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Mar 30, 2003 My story last week about the cutting down of the tallest tree in Scandinavia has reminded me that I must put in my order for more firewood for next winter. We are lucky enough to be the proud owners of a not so new house in the countryside, which relies on wood heating for warmth. And believe me, when it gets down to minus thirty degrees outside, you need all the warmth you can find. Last winter was the first we had spent in our house, so we were unaccustomed to the intricacies and special tricks involved in getting the heating system functioning. When we bought the house late last Spring, we had been given an overview of the furnace and boiler and uncountable valves and pipes by the seller. At that time I had only been in Sweden for a few months and my Swedish was not the best (it’s still not so good, but I’m going to school now studying Swedish as a second language. But that’s another story for another week, perhaps). But back to the heating. In Autumn, after a few days of cold weather, we decided that maybe it was time to think about warming the house. We had already obtained a couple of trailer loads of firewood, around two or three cubic metres perhaps, from some friends. This, I thought, would last us a few weeks. So with unfounded optimism I ventured down into the basement of the garage where the central heating boiler was located. This piece of equipment looks big enough to power a small steam locomotive and is complete with temperature and pressure gauges, thermostats, pressure relief valves – and a plastic bucket. I made sure that the water supply to the boiler was turned on, crumpled up some newspaper in the firebox, laid some small sticks on the top of the newspaper, lit the lot, closed the fire door and waited. And waited. And waited. Apart from a small spiral of smoke from the chimney, which quickly died away, there was no sign of life and when I opened the fire box door I could see that the fire had gone out. Trying to remember the basic instructions, I suddenly thought about the air supply to the fire. Sure enough, I had left the air intake closed and the fire had simply suffocated and gone out. Back to the newspaper and small sticks routine (you see, the Nya Wermlands Tidningen is not only useful to learn about the tallest trees, but is also very good as a firestarter) only this time with the air vent open. Success! Soon the fire was roaring merrily and I started to load up the firebox with logs. I could see the temperature gauge rising and soon it settled at around 70 degrees Celsius. Back inside the house, I ventured down to the cellar where we had been shown four large accumulator tanks. These, I remembered, were used to store the hot water coming in from the boiler in the garage basement and in turn heat up the water that circulates through the radiators around the house. Sure enough, the temperature gauges on each of the accumulator tanks were also rising. Back upstairs from the cellar, I checked the nearest radiator. Stone cold. Icy. Now what could be wrong? We had a good fire going, the water in the tanks and boiler was hot, I had turned on the water circulation pump, but the radiators… nothing. A quick phone call to my father in law produced the response “Try letting the air out of the radiators, it’s probably an air block stopping the water circulating”. Sure enough, we opened the air bleed valve on each radiator in turn, and were rewarded with a satisfying hiss as the air in the system escaped. We also found out that as soon as the air had been released, hot water followed quickly behind. So then it was time to get mops and buckets and dry the floors… But now we had hot radiators and the house was warm. For a few days, at least. That’s when I discovered the ferocious appetite that the boiler had for wood. Our estimated few weeks supply was gone in less than two weeks. Luckily we managed to locate a wood supply before we froze to death and soon had a further six cubic metres of best quality firewood stacked in the wood shed. But now our luck turned for the worse. Sweden experienced one of the coldest winters on record and our six cubic metres of firewood dwindled away like snow on a summer’s day. And of course, with the extreme cold, firewood was at a premium and couldn’t be found anywhere. No more wood heating. It’s OK, I thought. The radiator system is built to use either wood fired heating or electrical heating of the water. We’ll simply switch over to electricity until we can locate some firewood. Yes, well, that sounds good in theory, but in practice we found that the load on the electrical system to heat the water was just a bit beyond its capacity. One morning I remember changing the fuses no less than five times in less than two hours as we repeatedly overloaded the system. Not to mention the high pitched hum arising from the electricity meter as the dials spun round in a blur. Finally the overload safety switch on the electric water heater burned out with a loud crackle. We soon discovered that we could bypass the safety switch with some judicious wiring and not blow the fuses if we didn’t switch on the washing machine at the same time as the stove, we managed to generate some warmth in the radiators for a few more days. By now we had located a firewood supplier who agreed to deliver twenty two cubic metres of firewood within a couple of days. The firewood was duly delivered and stacked in the wood shed. But on measuring the wood shed, we discovered that we had actually been supplied with sixteen cubic metres, rather than the twenty two ordered (and paid for). When we queried the supplier, his response was that it was twenty two cubic metres when it left his yard loosely packed in a truck, and that’s the way firewood is measured, not stacked neatly in a wood shed. “There’s a lot of air in a truck load of firewood” he said, in Swedish of course. At least that’s what I think he said… Now we were set. We had firewood again so we could turn off the overdraft generating electrical heating and get back to the more reasonable wood heating. So we thought. But now we discovered a small trickle of water coming from under the accumulator tanks and closer investigation revealed a hole in one of the pipes connecting the tanks together. Of course it was Sunday when we discovered the leak, which was getting bigger as we watched. It was at this stage that the miracle happened. We called a plumber, who not only answered his phone, but who actually came out that evening and made a temporary repair to the pipe. And only charged one hundred kronor. I now truly believe in Santa Claus, the tooth fairy and life after death. The next day I was able to buy a length of copper pipe and fittings, cut out the leaking section of pipe and replace it with a new one. And since then the weather has improved and the snow has just about melted… So today we will phone around and try to find a wood supplier who sells just firewood, as opposed to firewood mixed with thirty percent air, and who can deliver this spring. That will give me the summer to dry and stack the wood, clean the boiler, get the chimney swept and replace the burned out overload protection on the electrical system. Hälsningar till nästa vecka, About the author: Robin Alan Bell is an Englishman by birth, but migrated to Australia back in '72. Married and divorced there. Spent the last 3 years living by myself on a remote farm in rural New South Wales with no mains electricity, water etc. All power, heating was from natural resources (solar, wind, wood). "Met" a Swedish girl on the internet, came to Sweden for a holiday, loved the place (and the girl), moved to Sweden permanently Christmas 2001 and married the girl in Easter 2002. Living happily ever after... Email Robin Alan Bell: sosoft@ozemail.com.au ------------ Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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