All that remains is a slow refill
Sometimes, the answer will be revealed in a dream. In my case, I woke earlier than usual, with the clear idea that my problem with pool pumping would be solved when I found the leak. Not water; I would have already covered that one. In this case, it was a tiny flaw in my pipe wrapping experiment. Just enough space for air to mix with the water flow. Outside, with the sun barely over the horizon, the neighbourhood was quiet enough for me to hear the aspiration. Hence, the inspiration.
I rewrapped the pipe and things began to work properly. Pressure up past 10, peaking at 15 (in contrast with the short bursts of 3, last evening). It wasn’t perfect, in that I still had to prime the pump, but much less often. Within 90 minutes, I had the satisfaction of a job well done. Barely a litre of dirty water remained. And 15 minutes later, the work crew arrived.
We went out to touch base. The team leader agreed to let us know if this was a lost cause, but after stripping away the tattered liner he reassured us that things were still, fundamentally, solid. Twelve years and counting! The sound of power screwdrivers gave way to a huge vacuum cleaner, as they seated the new liner and withdrew the trapped air. By lunchtime, they were gone. Nobody waved goodbye (a sign that they were contented craftsmen). The bill will follow, I’m sure.
Son #2 did the pickup and package of a pile of blue vinyl. In return, we moved him home (in a material sense). And now I watch the water level rise, ever so slowly.
