Water works

It was dirty, grubby work. Down a dark, narrow hole, three metres under the street. Breaking hard rock and concrete. Bit by bit. Hour after hour.

It began as a simple leak in a water pipe running under Main Street in Wellington. But a number of factors turned a routine repair into an overnight marathon and a race against time.

The leak had sprung in the middle of the village core—digging up the street wasn’t a workable option. Worse, the pipe was encased in concrete. This meant a lot of hand work. Down a narrow, damp hole. County waterworks staff took turns on the jackhammer. It was tough slogging. There was little room to manoeuvre and less room to find a comfortable working position.

As afternoon slipped into evening, it became evident they would be in this hole all night. A handful of business along Main Street had been without water for a day, and it was increasingly likely they would remain without water for another day at least. Restaurants. Inns. Shops. Offices. Library. All without water. No showers. No bathing. No toilets flushed.

As bad as it was for these homes and businesses, there was a bigger problem looming in the night. Without the main water line, there was little feeding the village’s water tower. And it was running low.

If the leak wasn’t fixed soon, it would no longer be just a few downtown homes and businesses impacted, it would be the entire village, including its fire service.

So the waterworks crew kept at it. All night long. With generators humming overhead and lights beaming down the hole, County workers chipped away at the concrete pipe. They worked the jackhammers until they were too hot to touch.

Then things got worse. A block of concrete had become wedged underneath the pipe. It had to be broken up, but there wasn’t enough room in the hole for the jackhammer to attack it. A smaller jackhammer was found. No good. With the clock ticking, the only option left was to hammer out a larger hole in the hard bedrock in order to access the target concrete block.

Typically, County limestone chips off in fist-sized chunks. Leaning on the hammer as much as the machine could bear, produced bits small enough to be held between two fingers.

Morning came. More folks gathered around the hole. There was a growing urgency. Inns and restaurants were facing turning away business for a second day. In August.

The water tower level was getting very low.

No one went home. No one quit. Workers continued to take turns descending into the hole—putting their backs into the task. Everyone wishing it was over.

By early afternoon the last bit of concrete had been broken. The leaking section of pipe was cut and removed. No one expected what they would find next.

Lying neatly on the bedrock was a single penny. One edge was worn thin from years of water erosion, but it still clearly revealed the date of the coin: 1962. That was the year construction began on the new water service in the village. Excavation began in November and was completed the following summer.

Given the placement of the penny, directly beneath the pipe and resting on a floor of bedrock, workers believe the coin was carefully and deliberately placed there by the installation crew more than a half century ago. Destined to be retrieved by a future work crew. A small reward for what they must have known would be a hard and dirty job.

By early evening, the water was back on. Water quality teams ensured the water was safe. Weary and exhausted clean up crews mopped up. The light was fading on a second day before the last truck finally pulled away.

We had the opportunity and privilege to witness first hand the dedicated work of the County waterworks crew. It wasn’t easy accommodating unwashed guests for a couple of days. But it was job made easier thanks to the near constant communication and assistance of County waterworks staff—keeping those affected apprised every step of the way. The municipality also arranged for water to be delivered up and down the street. No one was thirsty. Arena showers and washrooms were opened to residents and visitors.

In our case, we managed to connect a garden hose to our generous neighbour’s external faucet (unaffected by the water disconnection). County staff even clambered under our building to close the incoming pipe— to make this jerry-rigged water supply system work.

The truly impressive part is that this crew stayed at it. Hammering away at the concrete all night long, until it was beaten. There were plenty of reasons and opportunities to lay the tools down—to go at it fresh another day. But they didn’t. They stayed at it—until the job was done.

The County waterworks crew did a great job under tough conditions. It was noted and appreciated.

A big part of customer service is communicating when a problem occurs. Bad things happen. But it is how organizations respond that matters most.

Last week, we were well served by our County waterworks department.

rick@wellingtontimes.ca