Water tanks in the dam

We'd always planned to have some potable water at the lake house (ie: not just from the muddy dam).  Dad's original idea was to run a pipe down from one of the tanks higher up the block, but then he worried the pressure would be too great to leave the line open all the time -- and too costly if the pipe burst and we lost a tank full of water.    So he moved on to plan B, which was to install a small tank standing in the water next to the lakehouse.

To save money Dad made use of tanks we already had on site.  For the stand he used an old metal header tank that came with the Rayburn all those years ago.  It had been damaged in the removal so wasn't suitable to install as a tank again, so this is a good way to recycle.  Then, he balanced a small tank he'd had beside the caravan on top.  It worked out to be the perfect height for the level of the pier.



The plan is to extend the pier at the front so that goes around the tank, and then you will not see the underneath part.  Eventually we will put a small basin and maybe even one of those portable shower bags next to the tank, and wall it off somehow so it's not so obtrusive looking.  I did prefer the way the lakehouse looked originally from the entrance, without the tank, but I think with creativity we can find a way to make this look equally nice.  Of course, this means the lakehouse will eventually get spouting too, so it can keep the tank topped up :)

1930's cast iron Sitz 'chair' bath

Our bathroom is on its way to being truly vintage.  We have the 1890's toilet -- "The Climax Washdown Pedestal Closet" to give its full tremendous title.  Now added to the mix is a 1930's chair bath.

I first encountered this style of bath when I visited Ripponlea, an historic house in Melbourne, in 2010. They had a matching bathroom set that included both a normal bath with a shower contraption above it, and this other bath in the shape of a chair.  They also had a toilet with a high cistern tank, so even though ours is a few decades out, it's still in broad keeping.



I was immediately struck by how useful a chair bath kind of thing would be during times of drought.  There is nothing like soaking in a bathtub, but that's something that you can do only rarely when you have to watch every drop of water.  But a chair bath would, I presume, give you a bit of a similar feeling, and use only a fraction of the water.  So I had been looking out for one, but with little hope, when suddenly ...  I found an Ebay listing for a restored 1930s german spa bath leather lounge chair.

Intrigued, I had a look and yes!  It was indeed one of these kind of baths, that had been restored and fitted with a (removable) leather cushion.  Here it is now, as well as a photo of what it was like when they found it:

It is hugely heavy, made of cast iron, takes two strong people to lift.  It's been sandblasted back to get rid of the staining, and right now has a lovely chalky white finish.  But we are going to have to put a sealant on the surface I fear, to make it like a normal bath, as I worry it might get easily stained otherwise.  

From the Ebay description:
If you are looking for something unique then chairs do not come much harder to find than this stunning example. Dated pre war and made by the German manufacturer Ahlmann. Fully sand blasted to remove all corrosion then the base has been painted gloss black to contrast with the matt white porcelain. A new tan leather cushion provides a comfortable and stylish look.

Since becoming the proud owner of this chair bath I've done a little digging to try and find out more about them.  Especially... why???!!!   Given that one was installed in a bathroom in Ripponlea that also had a normal bath, what on earth was the point of it?  

I found the answer in FAQ #6 at a brilliant website aptly titled Vintage Plumbing: 

The Sitz bath, or a Seat bath was made in the shape of a chair with a raised back, lowered and rounded bottom, and sides to rest the arms on. The operating hardware was standing valve and drain hardware roughly half the size of the set that would mount on a normal bathtub. These fixtures came in enamelled cast iron with claw legs or pedestal as well as solid porcelain with base moulded on or on individual pedestal like "legs". They were roughly 2.5 feet x 2.5 feet square and maybe 18" tall in back. Elaborate models had hardware on both sides that operated not only the fill spout and drain mechanism but also a "wave" feature up high on the back and even a douche feature that shot a geyser up from the drain fitting! ....

To best understand the purpose of this fixture, one has to understand the American culture regarding bathing 90-120 years ago. Bathing was widely feared as unhealthful or else felt to be unnecessary so many people didn't. ... Yet, water was and still is believed to have restorative and recuperative powers (and) hot water might reduce hemorrhoids ... So, for upper class or wealthy people who lived in finer homes in urban areas and who bathed more routinely than rural folks, specialty plumbing fixtures were available to be used for unusual bathing purposes.... Sitz baths were not all that uncommon in better homes and mansions. People could rest their posterior sections in about 8" of water through the use of this chair shaped and sized bathtub. Water could then work its magic. 

Indeed, if you search for Sitz bath today, you find it is still a recommended treatment for some medical conditions -- although sadly it nowadays takes the form of a plastic contraption you buy from a chemist and fit over your toilet!  Still.  I am happy that we are able to provide a home for this now-rare item.  I'm planning to situate it in the open shower area, and have the shower head on a pulley so we can just fill it from that whenever we want to use, rather than faffing about getting it its own plumbing.  And, if I change the cushion cover so it's waterproof, the rest of the time it can be a cool bathroom chair :) 

idea for pier handrail

We still have work to do on the pier. One of the things that Dad insists is needed is some sort of handhold, on one side anyway.  We're still toying with exactly what form it will take as we don't want it to be obtrusive.  Here's one idea, that I saw at Burgh Island on our recent visit.  I like it as it seems suitably nautical without being overly fancy:

The Climax Washdown Pedestal Closet

I've always admired the old porcelain ornately patterned Victorian-era toilets, the kind you see occasionally in fancy old hotels.  I'd have happily settled for a repro but even that I couldn't find. So I was left to watch Ebay and pray.  Some came up over the years but they ended up being way too expensive.  Then, finally, earlier this year there was one that -- because it has a (tiny) chip, and wasn't sold by an antique dealer -- was within reach, in both location and price.

I thus present to you "The Climax Washdown Pedestal Closet" (!!) that will one day, hopefully, be our toilet. :-)





I've done a little research on it since it arrived.  First, I got hold of a book entitled "Ceramic Water Closets" from which I learned: 

In 1884 Frederick Humperson introduced the wash-down WC, considered to be the first of its type.  D.T. Bostel of Brighton also claimed a similar invention in 1889.  Both firms had cooperated with sanitary potters and no doubt all parties contributed to the washdown closet's development.  Wash-down closers were an evolutionary development of earlier cottage pan and trap arrangements, but in one piece with the water seal raised to within the bowl.  Successful operation of wash-down WC's depends on the force of flushing water to drive soil from the bowl.  Early wash-downs were made with full-front pedestals, but later models were modified into the easier to make cut-away styling.  Since 1890 the wash-down flushing principle has been adopted as the prototype for most WC development.  

Our toilet has a full front (ie: it goes sort of straight down rather than tucking in with a curve like modern toilets), so that suggests it must be one of the earlier ones.  Cool!  There's something nice about it being a true ancestor to modern toilets.  :)

I also hunted online to see if I could find its manufacturer.  The only people I found still making this model style (albeit not fancily patterned) were Thomas Crapper & Co.  I emailed them to ask if this was one of theirs and they very kindly wrote back, not just with information about it but also some installation tips and warnings:  

That is an attractive loo, but I regret that I do not know who produced it. In the 19th century there were dozens of companies producing hundreds of different loo pans, so I do not know them all!   However I have looked it up and I see that 'Climax' was a W.C. trade name for Messrs. Smeaton & Sons of London, registered 1889.

Note that it is made for a high-level cistern (about six feet from the floor).  A low-level version will give you a very poor flush.  I note too that the loo is rather crazed... Bear in mind that this indicates that the loo has become porous.  You may find that the floor under the pan will become damp if you install it.  However if fitted in, say, a downstairs cloakroom which is well-ventilated, it may be all right.

With that warning in mind, we are testing its water-tightness at the moment, having stood it in an old oven tray and poured a jug of water in.  So far, so good... it is holding water no problem.  There is lots of crazing at the top but not much down below where the water sits in the pan, and none seems to have seeped out yet.  I'll give it a week.  In worst case, if it does leak I'll move onto plan B which is to put some sort of glue or epoxy over it in the part where the water is sitting.  It's such a nice loo that it's worth some effort saving.  

By the way, the porcelain edge isn't as uncomfortable to sit on as it might appear.  However, it is definitely cold, so my plan is to install one of the old fashioned style wooden seats over it, affixed via shelf brackets.  Although we will likely have to make such a seat ourselves, since to buy new is, sadly, a bit expensive.  If anyone can make one though, my Dad can. :)

Sadly, I fear this is the end of the trail in terms of finding about the supplier.  I had a hunt for "Smeaton & Sons" in London online and unearthed a reference to them being involved in improving public lavatories in Billingsgate Market in 1961.  Armed with the address from that of 40-43 Chancery Lane, I then unearthed two mentions of them (here and here) in the 1966 London Gazette relating to the company being wound up.  

we (halfway) have a proper pier!

We've had a functional pier for a year now, made out of old wire fence panels, salvaged from the Toora house.  But while perfectly serviceable, it lacked a certain charm up close.  So when he needs a break from the heavy digging work, Dad has been using up the leftover decking wood, from his own verandah in Melbourne, as well as the offcuts from the 'lake house' floor, to give it a proper pier finish.  

Here's a few photos of it in progress: 

 

A fence from Parnu, Estonia

In mid-August I went on a week's road trip across Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia.  It was great, although I wish we'd had more time, since there were some great things that were off the beaten path that we weren't able to see.

However, one night we stopped in Parnu, a beach resort town in Estonia, about halfway between Riga and Tallinn.  While wandering there I saw this fence:



While it's not the lovely brick walled garden fence of my dreams, it doesn't look half bad.  And it would be a hell of a lot cheaper and faster to erect than brick.  So perhaps we could compromise... put fence like this between most of the pillars, with solid brick walls in just a few sections.  That way we'd still have area to grow fruit against the walls, but without it completely breaking the bank, which a fully enclosed bricked walled garden will sadly do.  

dad donates a chair and dressing table

Dad is a master at scavenging useful objects from the roadside.  His latest find is a lovely Lloyd Loom style chair (in fact it could even be Lloyd Loom -- I can't tell without seeing if it has a label).  It needs painting, of course, but that's easy, and it will be perfect to go at a dressing table.



Speaking of which, Dad has also donated a dressing table top to go in the Lakehouse.  Here's his description, and below a photo.  I think, with a little restoration and creativity regarding finding it a proper base, it'll come up well.  I like the shape and it looks perfect paired with the old washbasin.  

I bought an antique cedar dresser from the woman who sold you the panelling.  It turned out that the whole of the bottom part was totally ruined and not salvageable.  So I took that away and made another base for the top and put it onto a table top for Jenny and Paul.  But they didn't want it anymore so I got it back.  I was storing it in my garage with the prospect of using it as a vanity in my bathroom here in Ringwood, but decided it would be much better in the Lakehouse if you like it.  The carving is by hand, and the whole will come up very nice with restoration.  

foundation digging

Dave had a fleeting trip to Australia in early August and managed to get a few hectic days working with Dad up at Amherst.  It turned out to be a frustrating time because the work they were doing -- on the foundations of the old house -- was tedious and slow.  There are apparently about 60 stumps needed for the extension area and they have to be in very precise positions.  The ground was hard and if you hit a rock, well, you just had to find a way through.  The little tractor wasn't strong enough to do it on its own so they had to experiment with jerry-rigging weights to it, in order to get more downward pressure.  And even then, did a lot by hand.  Anyway, progress was made, but just nowhere near as much as they'd hoped.

Here's some photos:







Here's an extract from Dad's email about it, after a subsequent trip: 

I am focussing on the old house ...   I will be working this week on getting the stump-holes completed.  I am hopeful a new approach of using progressively larger augers until the size needed is achieved will mean I won't  have to do so much manual digging to get the holes right for the stumps.  I was able to do the holes at the front of the house with just the large auger so was surprised with all the trouble we have at the rear of the house.  The weighting basket arrangement for the auger is working well, but with one less rock than we had before.  Getting our approach right for digging holes on the block is valuable lessons learned.  Dave and I struggled with the manual digging this trip, and with a better approach to digging holes may avoid another such crisis when time is precious. 

I cannot wait until the foundations are done and Dad can get onto the proper building. But that's nothing compared to Dad, I think all this digging work is intensely hard and frustrating for him; he much prefers carpentry.