Water, water. Or things we do to fill our tanks

It has been very dry here in Crookwell for some time now so on our second day back from Rathmines we were delighted to wake to rain. Good solid soaking wet stuff. Delighted because it was very close to necessary for K or his son-in-law get buckets of water out of the dam for the dogs and rams and also because the new water tank on the shearing shed was ready for use at last

Being  ever practical I was even more excited to be able to collect water off our caravan.

As you all know by now, our daughter and son-in-law are kindly allowing us to camp on their property. We are able to do this because we are relativity self contained in our set up.

We have a mini solar panel farm connected to our batteries. These and the gas bottles keep us going on all but the greyest days when we run the generator.

But water is truly the limiting factor. If you ask caravan owners how long they can stay off grid, the answer starts with power but always ends with water.  

So when it rained out came every bucket and tub strategically positioned under the key places where water runs off ... the back corner of the van, the two corners of the annex and along the shade cloth. We filled the caravan tanks with 160 litre of filtered rain water, we always pump through the filter, and still have 50 litres ready to pump in and another lot ready for clothes washing.


Just in case you have a picture in your minds of us sitting inside a warm caravan, sipping hot chocolate and delicately nibbling on choc chip hot cross buns...the only proper flavour in my opinion...let me paint you a picture. There's K in his swimmer shorts and a rain proof coat diving out into heavy rain every 10 minutes or so to transfer water from buckets to tubs and then pumping the whole lot into the van tank every 5 trips or so. Or me, when the rain slacked off shuffling buckets to get the best drip speed landing in the tubs.


We filled the caravan tanks with 160 litres of filtered rain water and still have 50 litres ready to pump in and another lot ready for clothes washing.
There is now the slightest hint of green on the paddocks. And there is water at the shearing shed too. A luxury we all enjoyed when the next lot of crutching was done on the weekend.

I had to include this shot of miss four year old stomping the wool down in the pack. She and her grandfather make good team. She directs. He does as he's told.

Cheers Sue
A Ferg on the Move