The Scipio Solution

Day Ninety-Seven

WHAT THE HELL?

I take it by your reaction that something has gone over your head. Does everything have to be set down explicitly for you? Can you not draw your own inferences from the text? Whatever happened to reading between the lines? Whatever happened to the appreciation for sub-text? Take a moment to consider what has happened. Do you remember trying to remove the shut-off valve? Turning it continuously round and round? How do you suppose you did that without disconnecting the narrow, inflexible brass pipe that ran between the valve and the tap? You had to bend that pipe away from the valve, because you couldn't reach up under the sink with the wrench to loosen the compression fitting that held the pipe to the tap. Now do you remember? What did you think would happen after that pipe had been bent, or stated more correctly, crimped? You would just patch in a new section of pipe? Forty years ago, you might have. But look at the state of the sink, faucet and pipes today. When it was only a matter of replacing a washer, you could justify overlooking the rather obvious decrepitude of the combination. With the ruin you have already wreaked, let's be realistic. There is no way to justify simply patching things back together. You must go the whole distance. It was a mistake not to raze Carthage after the First Punic War. That just got you Hannibal marching up and down your peninsula. Do you really think it will be so easy to ignore the elephants in the bathroom? Need more motivation? Did you happen to notice that blackened stuff falling on the floor, from somewhere far up, along the wall, as you were working under the sink? The fallen bits are still on the floor or in the basin with the water and grout. Look at them. Yeah, they are rust. Take a look at the sink. It is a wall-hung sink. What do you suppose is holding it on the wall? A cast iron hanger, that's what. And judging by the amount of rusted iron that has been falling off, a cast iron hanger in very poor shape. All that's holding the sink up, probably, is inertia and the plumbing, a third or more of which you have already removed. Wishful thinking is the only alternative to replacing the hanger.

You are logically compelled to remove the sink and put in a new hanger, or possibly put in a new sink altogether. (Now that latter possibility is something we want to avoid, if at all possible. The cramped space would not allow for the installation of a standard-size vanity base and bowl, which means that you would have to make a custom base to fit. Reusing the sink is the best solution.) And with the sink down, you can get at the connections for the water lines, which means that you have a fair chance of removing the old faucet. That's the plan, anyway. What could go wrong?

The first thing that could go wrong is that you will not be able to shut off the cold water under the sink. We've had this discussion already. It's a regressive search for points to cut off the water. In the extremity of desperate measures, you would turn off the pump and drain the system. So there is the trepidation associated with the cold water shut-off valve to overcome. But the Channellock pliers have plenty of space in which to play. As for that flimsy handle. Who cares? In for a penny, in for a pound. (Yes, that's a stupid adage for a country that gave up pounds as currency about 240 years ago, but we've established that you are a traditionalist.) Miraculously, the shut-off valve turns. Not easily, but it turns.

Disconnect the feeder line. No need to bend anything now. You have already removed or loosened the drain trap. Nothing for it but to lift the sink and watch the cascade of rust. The sink comes free. It should. There is practically nothing holding it, as the cast iron hanger is so far rusted away that it is held together only by the screws that fastened it to the wall studs. It crumbles like puff pastry, in layers, and has about that flaky consistency. Forty years of water splashed out of the bowl and down the wall have seen to that.

The screws, too, are rusted, like the iron pins that were used to repair the cracks in the Parthenon. And with similar effect. They have expanded and now grab the surrounding wood with wiry tentacles. You could cut the heads off flush, and then drill them out. Or you might get lucky and be able to coax them out using the right karmic selection of pliers and screwdrivers. Besides, you want those screw holes. Drilling new ones through the tile is another thing to avoid, if possible. Never mind electric screwdrivers. Manual will give the greater torque. After about half an hour, the last of the screws is out.

Removing the faucet is all that remains as a potentially fatal pitfall. The nuts that fasten the faucet to the sink are corroded and must be cut off. A cutting wheel on a Dremel tool takes care of those. But then there is the approximately thirteen pounds of plumber's putty that was used as a substitute for a gasket forty years ago. It has petrified to the hardness of last year's fruit cake. That will take some serious muscle to chip away, not to mention delicacy. Scrapping, lots of scrapping, and drilling. What in the world was the plumber thinking? "You can't have too much putty," is a pretty good guess. It's the last line of defense. But it yields after about an hour of pioneering. You have undermined that final rampart, and the resistance drops away suddenly. Lincoln receiving Grant's dispatch announcing the fall of Vicksburg was only pleasantly gratified in comparison to the feeling that overwhelms you. The end of the war is now in sight.