Last year, MOH was having trouble with his central heating and had also noticed a small crack in his domestic oil tank. We have therefore been encouraging him to replace it before there was an environmental accident, and offered to help install the new one once he’d got a date for delivery.
We had been back in the marina just over a day when he rang us to say it was ordered and coming in five days. From when exactly turned out to be a vague estimation from the company, so we suggested he give them a call to determine the exact day so that we could plan accordingly.
We had a call on Wednesday to say it was coming Thursday morning, so we decided to travel down in the cooler evening in readiness.
He had already emptied the old one, making five trips down to the tip with his bottles for proper disposal of unwanted domestic oil, and had hoped to bring the new one in through the house. Weighing in at 165 kilos, we knew the suspended floor wouldn’t take it and being over 6 inches too wide for the doorways, it wouldn’t fit anyway.
MOH told us he’d cut down an old tree by the side of the house to make a passage from the front garden to the back.
When we arrived just after 8pm, we took one look at the relevant gap and thought
‘It ain’t gonna fit’.
It turned out that it would be a tight squeeze, so Hubby also remeasured the site and discovered the plinth was too short for the new tank, so the plan was to call the company first thing in the morning to ask for delivery to be made late in the afternoon instead.
Disconnecting the old tank and getting it into the front garden for carve up/disposal was relatively easy. I heard no swearing, and saw two heads pass by the window as they’d put it on broom handles and were using them as rollers to push it out.
begged asked me to take MOH grocery shopping so that he could get on with the job in hand without distraction. We came back with ingredients for a spaghetti bolognese, loads of fresh fruit and veg, salad stuff, milk and dog food.
MOH is a great guy and friend, but he is not practical.
He tends to go at everything like a bull in a china shop and then gets into all sorts of trouble which could have been avoided if he stopped to think first.
The tank was delivered at 5.30, and stands a good foot taller than the old one as it’s a bunded tank (ie. a tank within a tank in case of a leak).
The delivery guys helped get it round back on a trundle trolley/palletiser, but it was up to Hubby and MOH to put it in situ and connect it all up.
Friday was therefore installation day, and with the help of a car jack, planks and blocks, the guys were glad the tank was strapped to a pallet.
Inch by inch it was raised and blocks put underneath accordingly until it was level with the plinth.
The fuel monitor had already been set up, synchronised and attached to the top of the tank, so now it was just a case of moving it across from the pallet into position.
A new fixing kit was provided, but some of the angled pipework was required from the old one to join everything up.
MOH insisted on a little ceremony.
Not quite the launch of the QE3, but I gave a little speech:
“I name this tank Frank. May God bless her and all oil contained in her. May she never leak”.
The dogs were not impressed.
The original idea was to install the tank, get everything up and running, and then for any radiators to be replaced ready for the winter.
The fuel monitor has an alarm on it that beeps when the level is low. It has been beeping every hour or so since installation as the tank is empty, but MOH hasn’t heard it yet, even though the receiver is in his bedroom plugged into a socket underneath his bedside table.
He hasn’t ordered any oil either, so we are wondering when he will eventually ‘tune in’ and get fed up enough to pick up the phone!