The Smell of Molten Projects in the Morning

Ed Nisley's Blog: Shop notes, electronics, firmware, machinery, 3D printing, laser cuttery, and curiosities. Contents: 100% human thinking, 0% AI slop.

Tag: Repairs

If it used to work, it can work again

  • Removing a Water Heater Anode Rod

    Offset Tank - 2009
    Offset Tank – 2009

    While draining the water heater tank, I extracted the anode rod. Well, that was the plan; it took longer to drain the tank than I expected and much longer to get the anode rod out.

    The anode rod is basically an aluminum cylinder around a steel-wire core, attached to a steel bolt that screws into the top of the water heater. It has a 1-1/16″ hex head that calls for a rather large socket.

    You can see one problem right away: the anode rod’s head is offset in its opening atop the water heater, making it essentially impossible to get an ordinary 1-1/16″ socket onto the thing. No, they didn’t mis-punch the hole… notice that the cold water inlet nipple is offset in its opening. The hot-water nipple is offset, too, just in case you were wondering.

    Why is that? Well, the one thing that isn’t offset is the temperature & pressure relief valve on the right-front side of the tank. It seems when Whirlpool’s engineers were tasked with adding more insulation to the shell to get a better efficiency rating, they forgot that T&P valves don’t have arbitrarily long stems. Thus, the inner tank is offset within the shell so the T&P valve can reach outside.

    Of course, that means the insulation is thinner on the right-front than the left-rear, you can’t extract the anode rod, and the inlet & outlet nipples rub against the top cover, but so what?

    Offset Tank - 2003
    Offset Tank – 2003

    The photo is of the Whirlpool water heater I just installed, but it’s identical to this one installed back in 2002 and another installed in 2001 (the one that recently failed). They haven’t seen fit to correct the holes in the top cover in the last seven or eight years:

    This on a $400 water heater. “Made with pride in the USA”, indeed.

    Anyway, when I installed the heater, I applied a nibbling tool to the top cover and gnawed an opening sufficient to get the socket in and the anode rod out. When I checked the rod in 2004 (after two years), it was corroding, but that’s the way it’s supposed to be: it’s working!

    Missing Anode Rod
    Missing Anode Rod

    The recommended inspection interval is three years, but I admit I let it slide for five, based on what I saw earlier. Well, this time the anode rod was well and truly stuck. I eventually clicked an 18-inch breaker bar into the socket and wailed on the end with a two-pound hammer; after far more beating that I really liked, the bolt head loosened and the whole affair unscrewed easily and came out without further protest.

    Behold, there’s no rod attached to the head!

    I used a 12-point socket for this operation, but I have a six-point impact socket arriving shortly ($0.99 from eBay, plus $2 shipping). A 6-pointer has the advantage of applying force along the sides of the hex head, rather than just the vertices, which reduces the risk of stripping the head. Been there, done that, you’d think I’d learn from my experience, but I needed to get that thing out so I could proceed with the sediment extraction.

    [Update: More about why you really want a 6-point socket there.]

    There was an ominous clank inside the tank while I was massaging the breaker bar with the hammer. Peering down inside the tank through the rod hole, I spy the remains of the rod standing against the lower heating element, atop the expected pile of sediment in the bottom which is clogging the piddly little drain valve. It’s like looking into the Titanic’s dining room through a rivet hole.

    Turns out that the rod had broken off quite some time earlier. After better than an hour of laparoscopic surgery through the lower heating element port, I finally extracted the rod: it was bent double, which means it had been standing upright for a while and eventually folded over. The long section to the right is actually two rod cores folded against each other; the far right end has a neat U-bend.

    Corroded anode rod core
    Corroded anode rod core

    OK, I shouldn’t have left it slide for that long…

    So it goes. Leaving the rod across the heating element seems like a Bad Thing, plus I should get the rest of the sediment out of the bottom. That’ll be easier if I can flush the tank through the lower element’s port.

    I picked up a new magnesium rod at JD Johnson, a local plumbing outlet, for $28. That’s far less than at Water Heater Rescue, an invaluable source of information on the subject. The rod is 36 inches long, half a foot less than the 42 inch original, but that’s close enough; given the limited headroom, it’s easier to get into the tank.

    Removing the lower heating element requires a 1-1/2″ socket and the courage to cut back the insulation packed into the element port. More on that tomorrow…

  • Water Heater Drain & Flush

    Flushing with Y hose connector
    Flushing with Y hose connector

    For reasons that aren’t germane here, I’m responsible for two water heaters. Having just replaced one of them, I figured I should do a preemptive drain-and-flush on the other and check its anode rod.

    In principle, you just hitch a garden hose to the drain valve, turn it on, and flush the sediment right out of the bottom. In practice, it doesn’t work that smoothly, as the valve has a teeny little opening that instantly clogs with grit.

    The first step is to shut off the water, open the drain valve, and disconnect both flexible couplings at the top of the heater. You will move the heater a little bit during this operation and that will cause the flexy connectors to leak, maybe just a little bit, but enough to cause Bad Things to occur.

    In the past I’ve used a Y hose connector with a homebrew double-female adapter to blow water into the bottom of the heater; the hose runs to a nearby sink with a male hose thread on the cold-water faucet. The two teardrop-shaped black handles on the Y adapter are ball valve handles (crappy valves, but good enough).

    It goes like this:

    • Close the Y hose valve
    • Turn on the water at the sink
    • Open the water heater drain valve
    • Open the Y drain valve
    • Watch a brief piddle of water hit the bucket
    • Close the Y drain valve
    • Open the Y hose valve to blast water into the tank
    • Close it again
    • Open the drain
    • Repeat as needed

    With any luck, you won’t have that much sediment and the drainage will clear after only a few iterations. That didn’t happen here…

    Water heater drain valve parts
    Water heater drain valve parts

    The next step is to apply a strap wrench to the drain valve, remove the cover and core, and see if the larger opening will produce more flow.

    Note that the drain valve, at least on this Whirlpool heater, is basically a coarse-thread plug that depends on a rubber disk to seal against the valve body. I’d really rather have a full-flow ball valve down there instead of this piddly little thing.

    it is possible to replace the drain valve entirely, but the last time around I applied far more force than I thought prudent to the plastic valve body and got exactly bupkis in the way of rotation. Not wanting to break the damn thing off, I gave up.

    Valve cleanout with copper wire
    Valve cleanout with copper wire

    Anyhow, with the guts of the valve out of the way, the flow was still fairly weak. I rammed a copper wire up its snout and dislodged a truly disheartening amount of crud. The opening kept jamming shut, which meant there was a great pile of sediment atop the opening, so I spent quite  while wiggling the wire to keep the water flowing and the grit emerging. The pic at at the bottom shows some of the pile; there’s a heaping double handful of sediment on that shovel.

    The bottom of the tank is flat, with the valve pretty much flush with the bottom. That means you’ll leave a huge pile of sediment inside unless you swish some water around. That, of course, will clog the valve. Repeat until tired.

    When you go to put the valve back together, don’t be surprised if it doesn’t seal. Tighten the cap, put a hose plug on the outlet, and move on.

    You can tell by the color of the water that Something Is Not Right inside the tank… more on that tomorrow.

    Some of the water heater sediment
    Some of the water heater sediment
  • Tour Easy: Tightening the Coolback Seat Lace Cord

    Every now and then I notice the pedals are getting further away on my Tour Easy recumbent, which means it’s time to snug up the seat lace again. The lace cord has a Kevlar core, so it’s not very stretchy, but over the course of a few thousand miles either it stretches or the seat mesh relaxes.

    Here’s the only tool I’ve found that works for this purpose:

    Stanley 82-113 Hook Tool
    Stanley 82-113 Hook Tool: "The Hemorrhoid Picker"

    That’s what a friend calls his, anyway.

    It’s from Stanley and not in their current website listing, but they do offer the 78-393 – 4 Piece Hook and Pick Set, which looks to have a tool sporting the same hook end with a different (and much smaller) handle. IIRC, I got this one several-many years ago at Wal-Mart; maybe it’s a special-issue part number just for their shelves?

    What you do is work your way from the bottom of the seat lacing on one side all the way to the top, pulling out the slack as you go. At the top of that side, pull the accumulated cord into the knot, then start at the bottom of the other side. When you’ve got both sides pulled taut, knot up the slack again and you’re done.

    Needless to say, you can give yourself a King Hell puncture wound with that thing…

  • Digital Caliper Disassembly

    Caliper Back Side - Label Removed
    Caliper Back Side – Label Removed

    Just in case I spill a sticky liquid on the caliper and must disassemble it again…

    This was a relatively inexpenive, but not dirt cheap, caliper that has worked fine all along, apart from the issue with the thumb roller frame.

    After removing all the obvious screws, taking off all the various doodads, and extracting the sliding jaw, it still doesn’t come apart. The trick, as always, is to peel the label off the back side to reveal the five crucial screws that secure the electronics package to the metal scale.

    These screws don’t have the best heads in the world, but a #2 Phillips driver, solid pressure, and steady torque gets them out. All but one of the screws are pointed; the one in the lower-left corner (as above) is a machine screw that, I think, ensures a good electrical connection between the metal frame and the electronics package.

    Caliper Disassembled
    Caliper Disassembled

    With those screws removed, the electronics package pulls off to expose the innards. Note the cough delicate hand-forging that secures the tang to the back plate.

    The schmutz on the far right matched up with a similar patch of rust on the sliding scale. Some TopSaver rust treatment applied with a scrubbing pad reduced the problem to mere discoloration; the rust wasn’t all that deep.

    Reassemble in reverse order, with dabs of lubricant on the obvious wear points along the way. The thumb roller must go on after securing the electronics package, not before.

  • Slow Leak Detector: Tissue Paper

    Tissue-paper leak detector
    Tissue-paper leak detector

    When you make a plumbing joint with screwed compression fittings, there’s always a question of whether you’ve tightened the nut enough to make a good seal. The fittings come with copious warnings to not overtighten the nuts, which means I tend to undertighten them.

    It’s easy to spot a major leak or a trickle, but what about a very slow ooze on a hot water line where the drip will evaporate before you notice?

    Fold up a piece of tissue paper and secure it around the joint with a wire tie. Come back a few minutes / hours / days later: it’s easy to tell if the tissue has ever been wet, because its texture will be dramatically different.

    Having just replaced a water heater, the subject of leakage is a hot topic around here…

  • Whirlpool Water Heater “Lifetime” Warranty: The Good and the Bad

    So our 6-year-old Whirlpool electric water heater tank failed and dribbled water on the floor. Fortunately, I spotted the leak before it flooded the basement: I look at the heater just about every time I venture into the Basement Laboratory Electronics Wing. Judging from the mildew & fungus growing on the wooden base I built for it, though, I haven’t been doing a good job of walk-by inspecting. In my defense, the visible wooden edge is 3/8″ thick below the dark rim of the heater.

    Grit drained from tank
    Grit drained from tank

    I turned off the inlet & outlet ball valves, flipped the breaker off, routed a garden hose out the door, laid the end in an old cake pan, and drained the tank. The pan collected a fair amount of rusty grit (and more washed down the driveway), which means the glass-lined tank was suffering from internal rust.

    A call to the Warranty Hotline produced an Indian-subcontinent accented voice, who told me that I had to get a licensed plumber to tell them that it was, in fact, rusted out. “Any plumber in the phone book will do”, he said, “Just have them call this number and we will verify the situation with them.”

    My back of the envelope, confirmed by friends, is that it’d cost about $150 for a plumber to drop in. Oh, and this was on a Saturday morning, which means it might be a while later and bit more expensive than that. Paying somebody $75/hour to wait on hold didn’t seem attractive.

    A new heater of the same general nature is $400, give or take.

    Soooo, in round numbers, I’d be spending half the cost of the “free”  replacement just to find out if Whirlpool would honor the warranty.

    I was ready to just cut my losses and buy another heater when my friend Aitch suggested two simple alternatives:

    • Call the warranty line again, point out that this is the Internet Age, and offer to send them pictures of the problem, along with a statement that I was being truthful.
    • Spend the $150 to ship the dead heater to the office of the Whirlpool CEO with a note describing the situation

    I picked the first option and had a brief conversation along these general lines:

    • paying nearly half the price of a new heater for an “evaluation” is absurd
    • the leak was near the top; even the caps over the heating elements were rusted
    • the grit shows that tank has internal rust, so it’s not external corrosion
    • I’ll send pictures anywhere you want

    Much to my astonishment, the pleasant voice gave me a replacement authorization! No pictures needed.

    Knock me over with a feather…

    So I hauled the corpse back to Lowe’s, swapped it out for a new one, and away I went.

    Now, it’s worth noting that the new heater has a 12-year tank warranty, not the lifetime one that came with the original purchase. Given my experience with the first one, we’ll see what happens; I suppose they learned how expensive a lifetime warranty can be.

    Overall, a pleasant surprise, although the initial presentation wasn’t encouraging in the least.

    Memo to Self: Don’t ask, don’t get…

  • Blender Bearing Repair: Round Two

    Blender impeller and bearings
    Blender impeller and bearings

    It seems the bearings in our cheap blender last about a year, even if we don’t put the impeller in the dishwasher.

    The top bearing, the one nearest the impeller (on the left in the pic), developed detents, which says at least one of the balls has failed.

    Both bearing housings are rusty; water has no trouble getting past the flexible seals at each end. As they’re not immersion-proof, I assume the water has little trouble getting past the shield rings on either side of the balls.

    I replaced both of them, squeezed some silicone stopcock grease above the top bearing in the vain hope of excluding liquids, and we’ll see what transpires.