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A Glimpse At The RV Underworld, Black Tank Tales

 

The Lug_Nut View.  Beneath the modern glitter and shine of all RV’s is the underworld, the basement, and of course, the waste tanks.  Seemingly unchanged over the years, the black and grey tanks are filled and must be emptied as needed.  This, in most cases, is being done using the big stinky slinky, at least until now.  But, a new method using a smaller hose and a macerator is quickly becoming popular.  This new system has some advantages over the tried and true gravity drain method.  Let’s look at what it offers.

However, along with the advantages it provides, it may have a dark side.  The macerator is made up of a small stainless steel impeller, similar to that of a blender.  The spinning blades of the impeller puree any solids instantly on contact.  Following the emptying of the black tank, the grey tank is emptied.  While generally there are no solids found in the grey tank, there are hairs.  This hair, unlike paper and solids, does not all pass through the macerator, instead it may become wound into the impeller shaft.  Over time, if not cleaned out, the hair may build up and start binding the macerator’s movement.  So, and this is the dark side, it may one day need to be dismantled and cleaned.  Now, I don’t mind opening a pump and cleaning it, but a black water sewage pump?  Yuk!

Now, here’s a Black Tank Tale that actually happened and it involves a macerator pump.

A couple, we will call them Paulo and Jillian, owned a very luxurious coach.  This coach boasted of all the latest bells and whistles, including a macerator sewage system.  During a stay at an RV super show they had the need to dump their tanks.  Upon inserting the slim hose into the dump, Paulo switched on the macerator.  A clatter like that of a bag of ball bearings in a squirrel fan could be heard coming from the small disc like pump.  What could it be?  Was the pump self destructing?   Grrrrrrrr……….

Paulo contacted the coach maker to advise them of his plight and inquired as to what it might be.  The technical service people were stumped and could not imagine what would cause such a sound, but would work on it and get back to him.

They managed to empty the tanks and headed to their next stop, to meet friends at an RV resort three hours to the south.  Upon arriving at their destination, acquiring a site and getting set up, they saw a repair service truck parked just across the road.  Though the service vehicle appeared more like a derelict laundry truck, the words “RV Repair” was prominently displayed on the side.  Paulo approached the truck to see if they could check out and repair his macerator.  The man inside the truck stepped out and gave Paulo a toothless grin “Yeh, we’re real good at stuff like that.”  With that, the man, followed closely by two others, headed for their coach.  Visions of the Three Stooges ran through Paulo’s mind as they introduced themselves to him.  But only the first one had a Stooge name, Larry.  Apparently they were all brothers.  The others were Daryl and I think the third was also called Daryl.  Anyway, they swarmed around the problem area and discussed a strategy.  Paulo and Jillian left them to do their thing and walked up several sites to a friend’s coach to enjoy a home made chili lunch.  This guy makes the best chili this side of the free world.  Supposedly the secret is to count the exact number of beans to put in.  For this reason it is believed he got the name, The Bean Counter.

An hour later Paulo decided he had better go back down and see how the mountain boys were making out on his issue. He was gone for sometime then appeared back at the Bean Counter’s site, a piece of paper towel in his hand.  “Check this out!” he said opening the folded paper towel.  A small light brown stone lay in the paper.  “There was at least a dozen of these in the macerator, even bent the blades.”  He continued “What could this be?  Daryl, or maybe it was Daryl, tried to crush it with pliers, but it was indestructible. Maybe it’s from another planet or something.”

After some thought and a brief silence Jillian exclaimed “Cherry pits!  It’s cherry stones!”  All soon agreed, it was indeed a cherry pit.  But, how did cherry pits find there way into the waste tanks?

Jillian again spoke. “Cherries!  We ate all those cherries last week.  Paulo, what did you do with your pits?”

“I threw them in the garbage.” He said defensively.  They again fell silent.  Paulo and the others slowly all turned to Jillian.

“What?” she said.  “Don’t look at me.  I swallowed all the pits of the ones I ate!”   It took several seconds before Jillian realized what she said, and what had transpired.

 

Well, no damage.  The stainless cutter blades were bent back into their original shape and the macerator again purred while churning out a continue stream of liquid.  Paulo has convinced Jillian, for the sake of the macerator, not to swallow anymore fruit pits and was happy this was identified prior to peach season.

Fortunately, having the macerator option does not preclude you from having the large conventional sewer hose, which, apparently, is good to use during the fruit harvesting time.

Life Can Be The Pits    –     Lug_Nut     –     Peter Mercer

NOTE: To avoid embarrassment the names were cleverly altered as was the location and timeframe. Since the incident both Paulo and Jillian were relocated by the Nitwit Protection Program.  Jillian has devoted her life to teaching third world children how to make beaded necklaces using cherry stones.  Paulo has developed a designer macerator pump.  It has the logo of your favorite team on it as well as a cherry stone warning and disclaimer.

 

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