Monday - D7P1

Monday, 6:00 am. With precious little sleep under our belts we commenced our last day on the island. The one barrel on the east was full of water and had been chlorinated overnight and was awaiting testing. It was covered in Zinc and all of the plumbing was securely cemented in place. It was fully ready for community use. The west barrel was not yet functional. The zinc housing was up, the plumbing was all in place, the problem was that the barrel still leaked. We had tried a number of remedies, all of which helped, but none of which completely eliminated the problem. We were facing the options of either caulking the gasket of the lid with silicone gel caulk which, while solving the leak problem, meant that the tank was permanently sealed and could never be opened for maintenance (the "nuclear option"). The second option was simply not to hook on the second tank at all; this still allowed the community to have a source of water but it would be stressed that that water could be used for cooking, bathing or cleaning, but not for drinking. We are there to serve the communities needs in a way that serves them best, not to compel them to use our plans if they do not fit into the fabric of the communities daily life.

Around 7 am we powwowed to try to sort out the best right direction.When all was to be said and done, I believed that sealing the gasket with silicone caulk would be the definitive fix despite sacrificing the ability to clean that tanks. I could only hope that rigorous use of chlorine would retard the growth of bacteria and slime for an indeterminate period. I felt that this risk was superior to not having 50% of the planned drinking water, especially in such close proximity to the school kitchen where students were expected to go for water. Part of this program had been educational in nature and we were trying to inculcate a value for healthy, accessible, potable safe water. Placing the tanks near the school kitchen went a long way to fulfilling that goal as not only were the tanks convenient to a population center, they were precisely that segment of the population that could be taught, and would internalize, the message of the benefits of clean water. Daniel and Ambrosio were already imitating our bottled water behavior so we were dragging them up the learning curve by peer pressure. I really was gratified to see people in the community, usually children or young adults, being sent with vessels to retrieve water for the home. They came with vessels of all sizes and shapes and usually in relay teams. The economics of water can be a brutal dictatorship. I suggest the book "Drinking Water" by James Saltzman as a primer on this complicated subject. Anyways, people liked and used last years system; I could only hope as much for this years as well.

 

We needed to reach a decision soon as it was heading on to 8 am and we had to decide what route to go, install it, check it then fill it with water and chlorine test it. In the end, the nuclear option won out. We epoxied the valve nipple into place, layered a thick bead of silicone caulk over the recessed gasket, layed a flat circle of two layers of duck tape on the flat edge of the rim,tapped it all into place with a rubber hammer then applied the vise-clamp. With the extra layers of caulk plus the two layers of duck tape it was almost impossible to close the vise by hand and I tapped it down until it caught with a hammer. That was to be it's final position and that was just that.

For the fourth time we allowed the water to flow in to the tank. This morning I was dry. I was dry and dressed to do a bit of light cleanup work, pack what remained of my bags and prepare to depart. A lot was riding on the performance of the west side tank. Any leak at all, after the shot-the-wad nuclear option, meant that we scrapped the plan on that side. Better safe than sorry. We opened the valve and ran the water in. Once again, it ran burbbling up to the halfway mark then grew quiet. Though I was in fresh dry clothes I continued to wipe a dry rag under the tank awaiting the telltale moisture that would foretell our doom. It was dry at the halfway mark; dry at the 2/3rds mark; dry at the 3/4 mark. Looking good, but not quite full. The tank topped out when water ran up and out of the vent hole. We shut off the valve and wiped the bottom of the barrel dry and waited. Nothing. No drip, no ooze, no sweat. It was just plain dry. Was it the epoxying of the nipple, the application of the gasket caulk or the extra bands of duck tape to draw it in tighter? Hell if I knew. The nuclear option got the job done. And to be fair to us, we had been given substandard work materials by Richards. We would need to try to find a new vendor in Bocas.

And, on top of this, the freakin' circus came to town. Once again one of the pre-scheduled Ecotours floundered on to our little island. It was now 11 am and we were leaving in 1 hour. A group of about 20 or so senior citizen tourists crowded up onto the platform of el rancho to hear what was being done. The only problem was that we were the only people who could explain it, and we were very busy. Frank was now testing the new barrel and drilling Ambrosio in the operating technique.Some of us left our duties for 5 minute rotations to chat and explain the program to the seniors. But we still had to be ready to go at noon. There was just too much general commotion and we really could not get back to work until the tourists, as respectful as they were, departed. Once they left we negotiated an additional hour from the water taxi guy. We discussed strategies with Ambrosio for optimizing use of chlorinated water, such as drawing from the chlorinated tank for drinking water but going back around to the old main tank spigot for water for cleaning muddy clothes or animals or tools. We tried to teach him to save the chlorinated water for drinking and hand washing. Even cooking water could be non-chlorinated if it was going to be boiled. I tried to do this with him in an off-the cuff, quiet, Socratic way as well as such a way that it clearly accorded him prestige as the "operator of the municipal water works". To "qualify" for the job he had to do a brief real-time demonstration, starting with an empty tank, filling it, selecting the correct dose of bleach for the volume in the tank, then properly mixing it up in a larger  intermediate volume vessel then finally pouring it into the tank via he chlorine port then allowing adequate time to equilibrate.

The exam got underway - I felt distinctly awkward having this man Ambrosio, a peer - have to demonstrate his competence to me. I also needed to make sure that no matter what happened he would not be shamed or ridiculed for it. We started up by the platform where the bleach and water testing strip and equipment were. Ambrosio indicate the 3.5% strength of the beach and explained how it was necessary to identify the strength of the bleach and use the correct set of calculations for each strenght. So far so good. Then he took a 12 cc syringe and drew up 5 ml of bleach. My heart stopped - this was not enough. Which was exactly what Ambrosio proceeded to explain; the 5 ml was enough to dose 20 gallons or a half tank but the full 40 gallon batch required 10 ml of bleach. He had it. He understood it. It was the Annie Sullivan-Helen Keller moment. The "got-it" moment. Ambrosio proceeded to move flawlessly through the set up then jumped down to the tank level to pour the the augmented volume bottle of bleach into the bleach port. I stood behind him, out of the way, yet on hand if he had any questions. He had none.

And as this lovely, dignified gentleman that I had come to know over the past 13 months prepared his first batch of clean, correctly-chlorinated rainwater, he uttered a small phrase. I don't know if it was meant for me to be heard, but I think not. It was just Ambrosio speaking out loud, perhaps to himself, perhaps to me, perhaps to no one in particular. But what he quietly said was "Hoy dia yo trabajo para hacer  agua por mi propio" which translates "Today I work to make my own water". It was a simple statement, but it was the first time in his life he could utter it.It was neither prideful nor regretfully. There was a hint of wonder about it's power, and a sense of the responsibility that came with it. But for the first time, he was working to make his own supply of safe potable water, just as he had seen us doing with out filters at nights. He had merged with our club. As his words sunk into my consciousness I became aware of the tremendous gift I had been given to be in this place and to witness this one mans new found power. In some ways, it was a dream as old as man, in others a more modern story. Still, it was powerful. Tremendously powerful. And I had been there to witness it. My throat thickened and I had trouble talking for a moment; my eyes grew misty. I almost cried.  We had achieved what we had come for; it was time to go home.

I congratulated Ambrosio heartily on his success and explained how proud I was of him mastering the steps behind the procedures for adding the proper volumes of chlorine. I sought out Chip for a round of hand-shakes.

He has been my mentor and friend for over 10 years and I owe as much of my presence on that island to him, as I do to anyone else. Those anyone else's include my Fiance, Gail Ostrau-Young, who taught me my first math, my former professor at SUNY Ulster Steve Plumb, who taught me the fundamentals and to think like an engineer,  my very good friend and student, Ben Rounds Jr and my darling friend Marie Barnes. You'e all added something that helped get me here. The last photos of me and Chip were taken at 12:31 pm. We had a boat coming at 1 pm and we did not want to be late. An afternoon wandering around Bocas del Toro sounded real good to all of us. I will leave the island with a few shots of our team, here and there.

I will close this entry with the following statement: if you put this exact team together again, I don't care where you are going or what the project is - you better save me a seat!