Completely off my Roca

I can now say definitively that I am not a fan of Roca.  I've only done what they wanted - replace the complete inlet valve system with a brand new one - and it was honestly the most inconvenient and generally hard-to-complete job I've done in about 30 years.  It's not all Roca's fault, obviously - some of the inconvenience is because the downstairs loo is a narrow little room, and some more is due to the way the thing was installed by the house builders/plumbers.  Here's a picture which I should have taken at the beginning:
restricted access
It's impossible to see this view directly - you have to hold your phone upside down at floor level pointing upwards, and guess what it's pointing at, to get this.  And then straighten it up and crop it in GIMP (like Photoshop for Linux) to make it look nice for you, dear reader.  It shows the isolating valve attached directly to the white plastic tube of the inlet assembly, and right at the top you can just see a bit of the white plastic nut which holds the inlet assembly into the cistern.  For a sense of scale, the copper pipe is 15mm diameter, so you can see that the gaps around the isolating valve nut and the plastic nut are pretty small.

The monstrous crow's foot wrench, when it arrived, turned out to be just as shiny as the 50 quid Facom one, with nice bevelled edges to boot.  It is also seemingly proportioned for undoing the wheel nuts of tanks (quite unlike the dainty object in the picture in the advert) but it does actually fit in under the cistern (just), and it did eventually do the job of loosening the valve nut, one sixth of a turn at a time.  Of course, you can't just slide the spanner off and reposition it, you have to wheedle it off and coax it back on at funny angles to avoid all the obstacles.  And if your socket driver has a ratchet, it it guaranteed to ratchet when you didn't want it to, and make it impossible to achieve the right position, so that you have to ratchet round the rest of the 300 degrees - which you have to do in a different space altogether, and then find your way back to the nut somehow.
monstrous (but shiny)

This must all done while clasping the loo in a kneeling bear hug, with arms feeding around the sides. In this position you can actually touch the nut with one hand, but you can only hold the socket driver with the other one, so you can't apply any real torque. Alternatively you can lie on one shoulder, with elbows about the ears, down one side of the toilet.  In this position you can use two hands on the spanner, but it's not possible to either touch or see the nut you're trying to undo.  Of course you can't switch between the two while holding the  spanner on the nut, and you have to be wary at all times of letting the monstrous crow's foot spanner fall onto the delicate ceramic of the toilet itself.

Then there is the plastic nut which holds the assembly into the cistern, which, of course, is a different size.  I had entertained the fantasy that since it's a plastic nut, it wouldn't be very tight, and I'd be able to loosen it without a special spanner.  Sometimes I am unaccountably insane!  Of course I couldn't - and the access limitations are even more severe.

At this point it became obvious that a custom-built special tool was needed.  Fortunately, I was able to come up with this:
special tool #387

...which is a 26mm box spanner, chopped to bits with an angle grinder, and welded onto one of those "stretch" cylinder head bolts you have to replace every time you remove them.  I still don't really understand why they can't be reused.  And I certainly don't approve of throwing them away.  So, I keep some in a box, for those occasions you need an 8mm rod about 8 inches long with a flanged hex head on one end.  Like now.

In practice, this tool worked so well that I may have to make another one to use instead of the crow's foot wrench.  For Roca close-coupled loos, it's the dog's bollocks - and I can save the crow's foot wrench for loosening the wheel nuts of tanks, if any should come my way.

So here's the reason for all my efforts, once it had been successfully extracted:
cause of all known grief
It's meant to be white, but that's what happens if you feed it with muddy water for a few years. The little thing in front is a flow limiter, which normally lives in the bottom of the inlet pipe and looks like this close up (new one shown for clarity):

tiny little slots

The idea here is that if you have tons of mains water pressure, this thing limits the flow rate of the water by making it go through the tiny little slots you can see here. Or if you have muddy water and low water pressure, the little slots block up and the flow is limited to nothing at all, which is a great success for the flow limiter, but a bit of a failure for everyone else.  The correct solution (in this case) is just to throw out the flow limiter altogether, since it was never actually needed in the first place.  Which you could, in principle, do without removing the whole assembly from the cistern; but in practice you can't move the feed pipe out of the way, so you do have to take it all out. And thus you do need the special tool after all.  As if I needed any justification.

Armed with my special tool, the tank wheel nut spanner, and a lifetime's experience condensed into a few short hours of painful, noisy struggling, I threw the whole thing together again in a tenth of the time it took to dismantle it, successfully bringing the whole sorry Roca saga to an end, for now. 

Elsewhere on the estate, our efforts to keep the neighbourhood's 1,276 cats out of the back garden to give the birds a chance have taken a new turn.  My efforts to fortify the gate having proved inadequate, we have acquired a remote control animatronic snake, which I think might just do the trick.  It is modelled on a rearing cobra (with fangs out) and it can go forwards in a curve to left and right, and backwards in a random direction, and works quite happily on tarmac.  At the same time its eyes glow, and it makes an evil hissing noise.  All that remains is to fix it up with a PIR detector and a remote power supply and we're there.  It can hide under the camper van, overlooking the gate, and I'm pretty sure it will scare the living shit out of the cat from number 12, which seems to be the only one left in the race now.   The only problem is that we really need a surveillance camera and some sort of recording device to capture the triumphant moment when we finally get the upper hand.  Can it be done with an old mobile phone and a Raspberry Pi?  Hmmm....


Plumbing the depths

Obviously one can't have a downstairs loo with attitude for long without giving some thought to fixing it.  Unfortunately I already have some experience with the loo cisterns in the house.  They are made by Roca, who like to think of themselves as an upmarket company, so they have taken it upon themselves to reinvent everything in their chosen field.  So although the cistern looks and works pretty much the same as everyone else's, all the bits are incompatible with "normal" ones.  Additionally, the assemblies inside are designed to be built in a factory, and never reopened.  It's so much less work to replace the whole unit, and throw the old one away!  So a slight dribble somewhere means swapping out the entire inlet or flush unit at a cost of about £25, instead of replacing a soft washer for 10p.

Needless to say, I don't intend to be constrained by the wasteful intention of this wanton business strategy.  I fully intend to refurbish my inlet valve assembly - but to be on the safe side, and minimise the downtime while I explore where no man has ventured before, I bought a new one anyway.  The one in the main bathroom sticks occasionally and needs a hearty whack to make it wake up, so hopefully I can rotate them round and keep a refurbished one in stock ready for the next trivial failure.

Whatever happens, I need to be able to remove the inlet valve assembly, which means draining the cistern and removing the inlet pipe from underneath.  To my great surprise, the house builders did actually fit an isolating valve under there, so the rest of the house can go about its business undisturbed while this happens. Hoorah!  But unfortunately, it also means that access to the pipe union is extremely constrained.  It's the bit with the writing on in this picture...
no room at the inlet

Plumbers use a special sort of spanner to solve this common problem - and I have one!

plumber's tap wrench

too floppy to contemplate
  Alas, mine is for imperial tap fittings, and doesn't fit 15mm pipe compression nuts.  In fact I couldn't find the right thing anywhere; the most common offering seems to be a sort of floppy self-adjusting thing that takes up a lot of space exactly where you don't have enough.  I actually have one of those as well, but it's so horrible to use, and generally unsatisfactory in every way that I didn't even try.

In general garage engineering, the tool of choice for such a challenge would be a crow's foot wrench, which is just an open-ended spanner with the handle sawn off and a square hole through it to take a socket extension. So I had a look at those on the world wide vending machine...

gobsmacked, actually
Wow! The top end of the market seems to be one made by Facom, and as you can see, it's very shiny and polished, which I suppose goes some way towards explaining the price; a truly vertiginous £51.95.

That's a bit more than I was expecting, to be honest.

No matter, I found one made by Kennedy for £5.99 Inc VAT  (Special Offer - was £6.99 14% off!) at the Zoro shop.

Obviously the shiny-ness isn't in the same league, and it doesn't feature subtle stress-relieving notches to protect the corners of your nuts (oo er!), but they promise that it's made of proper chrome-vanadium steel, and it's much more my sort of thing, price-wise.
more my sort of thing

Incidentally, neither picture actually shows a 24mm wrench.  The square hole is 3/8in in both cases, so the gap between the jaws in these pictures is somewhere between 11 and 15mm, I'd guess.  Or to put in another way, the pictures are about 100% wrong.

On top of that, the Kennedy one offers the following somewhat disturbing "technical drawing":
This doesn't even make sense on its own, let alone as a description of the article in the picture.  It's wrong in almost every conceivable way.

But... £5.99 Inc VAT, and who need a technical drawing anyway?

I'm still waiting for this to arrive, so that I can get at the cistern and fix the old unit (which probably just needs cleaning). Watch out for updates.




I'm getting a bit concerned that all my recent blog posts have been rants about the price of things.  Have my horizons been drawn so near?  No, of course not.  I'm also reading a fascinating book about consciousness from a neurobiological perspective, called "The Ego Tunnel - THE SCIENCE OF THE MIND AND THE MYTH OF THE SELF" (Thomas Metzinger), and I'm learning Italian on my phone, as well, which I think is surely deserving of a smug emoji, if only such a thing existed.  So I guess the unnecessary emphasis on value-for-money purchases must just be a consequence of poor editorial judgement.  Or maybe it's a indication of a generally cheeseparing attitude to life.  But if that's the case, I'd like to point out right now that of all the things I don't mind spending money on, cheese is definitely in the top three.

And I'm keeping quiet about the other two.

Incidentally, the bird feeder had a visitation from a squirrel the other day.  I spotted the little chap standing on the top, and he spotted me, and there was an impasse; then he decided that since I was indoors and he wasn't he would go for it anyway.  He went out along the horizontal part and then down the outside of the goldfinches' sunflower kernel feeder, leaving one back foot clutching to the ring it all hangs from.  He didn't seem to be able to get any sunflower seeds (not being equipped with the goldfinches' specialised beak) so he had a go at gnawing the plastic instead.  At this point I tried to get a picture, but before I could, he actually fell off, in a highly floundering, legs waving everywhere, most inelegant and highly amusing way!

I've never seen a squirrel fall of anything before, so I'm regarding it as a bit of a success for the design of the birdfeeder.  The squirrel seemed quite OK afterwards, and flounced off across the lawn with all the grace one normally expects from a squirrel.  I don't think he'll coming back though.  Too embarrassed, I reckon.

Welding again

Well, my welding helmet turned up very promptly, but to my surprise, the blue lightning design also features (in a ghostly, slightly spooky way) those pesky skulls!

pesky skulls, looming
Actually I'm getting to quite like them, even though I don't get the connection with welding at all.  The lightning makes perfect sense for arc welding, obviously, and I could follow through transforming metals towards some alchemical symbols, maybe, or possibly even a few runes, but the skulls -  maybe it's to do with defying death in some way?  Not really how I approach welding.  Now if they printed the skulls all over the trampoline, it would make a lot more sense...

Anyway, the house recycled water system repair turned out to be a big flop - when it rained recently and the tank filled up a bit,  the controller switched back to using stored water, pumped a load of crud up from the tank and blocked the inlet of the downstairs loo.  Now it takes several hours to fill up; a performance so leisurely that it borders on the complacent.  Not right at all.  When all's said and done, one doesn't want attitude from the plumbing, does one?

So it seems I will have to get into the tank again, and set the float switch a bit higher.  Which seems like a good reason to weld some stabilising bits onto the paved-tank-cover lifting wheel-o-tron (TM)  to stiffen it up a bit and keep the main rails upright when the full weight of the paved cover is being supported by the wheels.  Anyway, I had to try out the new skull hat.

Which is great!  My welding has instantly been transformed, by the miracle of being able to see through the welding mask, from this poor specimen:

crap welding
featuring lava flow-style blobbery, spatter, and voids, to this:

pretty good welding actually

...which really isn't too bad at all (apart from being out of focus, sorry).  For MIG welding.

Of course, I've long held an aspiration to get hold of a TIG welder, which is like gas welding but with an electric arc instead of a flame.  You get to control the filler rod yourself though, unlike MIG welding.
At its best, TIG welding can be genuinely beautiful, like this:


or these:


partly because of those amazing colours you can get welding stainless steel in different conditions.  Incidentally, for the pharmaceutical industry, the only acceptable colour for a weld in stainless is steel coloured.  So they have to settle for this sort of lovely:


and hopefully spend their time complaining about the bit that has only been tack-welded in place. But then I discovered laser welding, which is like TIG but with a laser!  Here's the advert piece:


Ideal for making steam engine boilers, apparently.  Alas, the laser welder hasn't made it to the hobbyist marketplace yet, and they cost a great deal of money.  I'll just have to wait for someone on YouTube to show me how to make one out of a broken microwave and a CD player (or something).

And in the meantime, go back to wishing I could justify a TIG welder - probably at a cost of about £500.  Which I can't, let's face it.  Unless I can think up a suitable project...

No more Mr. Bouncy?

I had hoped to be posting a stirring story of complete recovery from the front flip incident, but sadly, I can't yet.

It's three weeks since the tragic day, and progress towards my customary state of vitality seems to have stalled at a point where there's still a bit under my shoulder blade which hurts, sometimes quite a lot.  It's altogether somewhat unsatisfactory.  I may have to seek professional advice.  After all, people have been telling me that I should seek professional advice for years.

Fortunately I have recovered enough strength and mobility to use the MIG welder, so I have been able to do some useful things.

Our 5 year old house has a trendy rainwater collection system which collects all the rainwater from the house and the garage and puts it in a big tank under the terrace.  Along with anything that washes off the drive, because they (wrongly) connected up the land drain too - Grrr!  Recently, following liberal use of the newly-commissioned automated garden watering system, the tank ran dry, which resulted in unhappy noises from the pump in the garage.  That's not supposed to happen; it's supposed to detect an empty tank and switch over to mains water automatically.  Obviously this situation necessitated a look at the whatever is supposed to detect a low water level in the tank.  Which is located under the newly paved terrace.

Fortunately, we thought of that when we had the terrace built, and bought a very large (and very expensive) aluminium tray to hold the paving section over the tank so that you can lift the whole section out, for just such an eventuality.  Except that even Dales, who can deadlift at least 130kg, can't lift even one end of it with the the little T-handles provided.  So it needs a special tool...

After much pondering I made two of these out of some of the the rusty old Dexion which used to be the custom slope-levelling car ramps at our old house:

some rusty old Dexion
The long bit bolts down onto the aluminium frame with the paving in it, and you can lift the whole kaboodle by levering the wheels underneath by rotating the short bits until they are alongside the long bit, thus:

wheel, wheel...


Then you can wheel the whole thing away.  This can all be done single-handed by a half crippled ex-trampolinist with a sore back, or even, I suppose, an able bodied person, if that's all you've got.

Here's a close up of a corner.  I had to weld the little tab near the two nuts, because there's no room for a bolt underneath when it's bolted down and the tray is in its holder (first picture).   Apart from that it's all just big Meccano.

cornered

The next challenge was getting the top off the tank - it unscrews.  And it's tight.  So, some more rusty scrap iron, some more welding, and another tool appeared:

handle with care

I couldn't operate this by hand, despite the generous length of the handle, but fortunately it's short enough to get a leg over, which did the trick.  Phwaaaah!

Inside, the 150mm inlet pipe and the gauze filter were literally half full of solid sediment - which explains why the tank was empty.  Most of the incoming water just went serenely on by, straight into the overflow pipe.  I made a half pipe to temporarily replace the gauze section so that I could pressure-wash the poop out without it all going into the tank - which necessitated another special tool to put the half pipe in place (about 1.5m down the hole).

Here it is (on the right), along with yet another tool for scraping crap out of the bottom of the manhole.
some more rubbish

Hang glider aluminium tubing, Dexion offcuts, exhaust clamp parts, leg piece from the old ramps, cable ties, plastic drain pipe.

Eventually I got down to the float switch, which is supposed to be suspended 120mm above the bottom of the tank so that it hangs down when the tank is empty, and floats up when it isn't.  As far as I could tell, it had never actually been installed - just thrown in there with its 5m of cable.  So it was just sitting at a jaunty, and completely misleading angle in the mud on the bottom.  I screwed a hook into the tank side, hung the switch according to the installation manual (it's written in Dutch, but that's not a problem for Google translate), coiled the excess cable up neatly, put the gauze filter back in, and the job's a good 'un.

Why are builders so useless?  They installed 18 of these systems in this road alone; you would have thought that it was worthwhile for someone to spend a couple of minutes at least looking at the pictures in the installation manual.  Incidentally they also fitted the wrong type of pressure vessels for rainwater, and they all rotted away and flooded peoples' garages within a few years.  Rainwater is not like mains water these days, it seems.  Who knew?  Not the builders, evidently.

Still, it's good to get the old welder out after such a long time.  I'm glad I'm not trying to build a car chassis though, because I'm really rubbish at welding these days.  I basically can't see what's going on at all.  I think it may be time to treat myself to a modern self-dimming helmet.  Obviously there's a lot of choice, from the rather gorgeous, at a mere £594.48 (+ £11.95 delivery):

gorgeous

...through a whole raft of skulls...
what is it with the skulls?

...and eventually, to the seemingly somewhat ridiculous...
er... what?
Yes folks, it's an auto-dimming leather hat, presumably specially created for fans of


Or maybe just for those on a very limited budget, because this little number retails at a rather unbelievable £11.59 (postage free).

I think I'm going to go for something like this, for £27.50:


It costs £3 more than the same thing in plain black, but I like the zappy lightning idea, and blue is still my favourite colour.  And after all, you only live once, don't you?