Bowels, in a mammal or a marine vessel, are no place to spend time. But there are situations where visiting a boat's bowels is unavoidable.
This past week presented one of those opportunities. There was a device in Robin's head called a Lectrasan, a waste treatment machine that supposedly made what exited through the "out" seacock as pure as what entered through the "in" seacock. But I had suspected for a long time that this machine was responsible for an unyielding odor that assaulted every nose that descended Robin's companionway ladder.
The machine had a blue plastic tank with a capacity of about two gallons, into which effluent from the head was deposited through one hose. It had some sort of grinding equipment, along with some electrodes that, I think, were supposed to neutralize any bacteria in the waste stream.
You'd flush the head into the tank and then push a button. Immediately, you heard a grinding sound something like a washing machine with a load of rocks. Then you'd hear a pump go on. At this point the effluent was, one assumed, exiting through a second hose leading to the "out" seacock.
The problem was that the pump never expelled all of the waste, so that in the tank and in the exit hose there always was borne a cargo of crap, treated or otherwise. And from there came the stink.
A Lecrasan is not an inexpensive piece of equipment. Ours was on board Robin when we bought her, and Monica thought it would be a waste to get rid of it.
But finally, perhaps overwhelmed by the impolite presence of the essence of bowel byproduct, she relented. And now was the time for the removeal.
I was aware that the several feet of 2 1/4 inch hose leading to and from the Lectrasan probably contained some leftover liquids. Thus informed, I took special care in removing the hoses.
Still, there was leakage, and when, after about three hours of work, all the machinery was safely overboard and in the marina Dumpster, there remained an olfactory reminder throughout Robin's cabins.
I went to the hardware store seeking a solution. In the "marine" aisle -- in any Chesapeake Bay hardware store it is wise to serve the needs of watermen and recreational boaters alike -- I found a biodegradable bilge cleaner. I bought it and, back at the marina, mixed three pints with a bucket full of tap water. I poured this solution into the cabinet from which I'd removed the Lectrasan, knowing the fluid would find its way to the bilge. Within a minute, the bilge pump went on and, for about a minute, it pumped a cloudy stream overboard.
I repeated this procedure and then dumped a third bucket, with water and a bit of bleach, into the same cabinet.
When I left the boat on Wednesday, it appeared to have a neutral aroma.
On Monday, I'll return to Robin for the next project -- removing a section of rotted bulkhead and replacing it with new marine plywood. My nose will tell me immediately whether I've scuttled the stink or whether I have to move on to the next step -- replacing all the old plumbing in the head with spotless new hoses and tanks.
It will be a spring filled with many such experiences, the instructional lot of the recreational boater.