The Semi-Winterization of the Pond at Chez Sarge

Not quite the look of my frozen pond...
There was no submarine, and certainly no polar bears...

Other than that? Pretty close.

(U.S.Navy Photo by Chief Yeoman Alphonso Braggs)

As mentioned in the tale I bored regaled you with yesterday, The Missus Herself and Your Humble Scribe had not quite gotten around to winterizing the pond prior to the Thanksgiving festivities of Thursday last. Now normally this is a task we manage to do sometime in early November, I don't recollect ever having let it go this long, i.e. late November.

I also mentioned that it was bloody cold over the Thanksgiving holiday, as in 1° in New Hampshire, a balmy 14° here in Little Rhody. Which meant that being outside, the Pond at Chez Sarge would probably ice over in the period we were away. Which it did, to the tune of about an inch and a half of ice at the deep end. Also Manneken Pis, seen in the photo below, froze right up, his wee willie spouted not. (He did pile the ice high though, didn't he just? Note that, unlike his bronze counterpart in Brussels, our chap is made of concrete, almost stoned he is...)

Not a problem though as at the shallow end of the pond there is a waterfall. The constantly moving water kept it from freezing during the short cold snap. As the bitter cold lasted only about a day, I wasn't worried about the filter unit which resides in the ground next to the pond. It would take a lot more than one day of freezing temperatures to render the soil at Chez Sarge into something approaching the arctic tundra.

Now I had received my marching orders late on Friday (Black Friday to the shoppers in the crowd) that we would be cleaning the pond on the morrow. With a manly sigh, I accepted that it did need to be done, but I could still sleep late. Had a fine Friday eve, crashed late, awoke late as mama had fed the feline staff and was having a coffee in the dining room when I managed to stumble downstairs with all the grace of a poleaxed bullock.

"Good morning honey. What are you reading?" I asked.

"Good morning, I'm looking at an advertising circular from the Navy Exchange. Which is where I'm going after I wash up." sayeth the love of my life.

"Ah, so when you get back, we'll clean the pond?" thinking I had a few good hours of goofing off in the immediate future.

"Oh no, you need to start as soon as you've had breakfast. I won't be back until it's almost dark." sayeth the lady of the manse as she headed aloft to wash up.

I just stood there. Was this a good thing? ("He shouldn't screw it up too bad.") Perhaps a bad thing? ("He gave his mother a rough time, a little hard labor would help cure that attitude.") Maybe it was a neutral thing, division of labor and all that. She shops, I lift heavy things. The filter unit is kind of heavy and did need lifting out of its hole, so yes, I could see the logic of it. Then she called down from upstairs...

"Or you could come with me to the Exchange."

I nearly panicked, go shopping, on the weekend after Thanksgiving? No, that was not a fate I had imagined for myself. Quick, what to say, how to answer...

"No, that's okay honey. I really want to get the pond ready for winter."

She looked down the stairs at me and offered a most dazzling smile. I felt as if I had passed a test. I usually suck at those. I have spent lots of money on flowers in the past as penance for my sins. Not today! I was going to winterize the pond!

As she drove off, I headed out. I noticed that the ice on the deep end, the end which held the pump at the bottom, was really iced over.

As you can see in the photo above, I later broke out a chunk of the ice to get at the pump and noted that towards the deeper water, the ice was at least an inch and a half thick, tapering to not much by the "shoreline." (And yes, I used that photo the other day.) But at first the ice was too tough to attempt to break through and I needed to get the filter unit out first anyway. As it was warm-ish on Saturday, I figured the ice would weaken as the afternoon wore on. (Which as you can see, it did.)

Now I couldn't just go flailing away at the ice, for you see the fish were still in residence, they stay in the pond year-round, in the winter they are nearly dormant. Banging on the ice sends shock waves through the water (I learned this at pond maintenance school, no really, okay it wasn't a school, it was information online) and if y'all remember from your anti-submarine warfare days (ASW, also know as Awfully Slow Warfare), water is nearly incompressible, whereas fish are most certainly not. A big enough shock and it kills the fish. My fish. (And no Virgil, you can't go ice fishing in my pond.)

So, I had to wait. In the meantime I semi-emptied the filter unit of some really disgusting water, then got mad at it and simply yanked it from the ground. I am such a child at times. Though the filter unit had less water in it and was rather loose in its hole, it was still heavy, which I discovered when I yanked it from the ground. Though I did use my legs to lift, my back was still exceedingly pissed at me for a couple of days. Geez, I never learn.

After cleaning all of the various filter thingies within the filter unit, think little plastic spiky balls which agitate and clean the incoming water (see next photo), and large donut looking filter things which are made of some sort of foam, and which, of course, filter the water. (See the picture after the next one.)

Bioballs (no, seriously, that's what they're called)
(Source)

Foam filter "donut"
(Source)

Now all of those things were liberally coated with thick, disgusting smelling, slimy, green algae stuff. No, I don't know what it's really called, but it's gross, trust me. (Pond scum is another term I've heard used, though that typically floats on natural ponds. On manmade ponds it collects in the pump and in the filter units. Which need to be cleaned periodically.)

So by now, I was rather agitated and pretty gross from cleaning all that stuff. So I went over to check out the ice thickness to see if I could retrieve the pump from the murky deep. Yup, ice fractured rather well with just pushing on it, no shock waves, no dead fish. (Again Virgil, no, just no. You cannot fish in my pond.)

While all of this was going on, Mother Goose and
her goslings looked on in utter fascination.

So, there I was (not the Standard Juvat Caveat, I'm just using it in its non-military connotation), filter out, pump out, filter elements (foam donuts and spiky balls) all cleaned up, and the bubbler (a device to keep the water oxygenated) was installed and the fish slumbered away, only occasionally moving away from me and my noisome activities.

Bubbler at work

Mother Goose inspecting the result, note the fish slumbering
under the bridge. Nearby lies another section of bubbler tubing.
Which, you will note, is bubbling merrily away.

Before retiring to my bath, I decided that refreshments were in order...

Refreshments consumed (note the saw horse in the background, there is another, drying between them are a number of foam donuts held aloft on a shovel handle, drying) it was time to wash up. Though it was nigh on to 1500 local, I even shaved. It's tidy I like to be. For those worried about my safety, I only consumed one porter before attacking my whiskers with a sharp razor. I won't say how many I may, or may not, have had after my ablutions were complete. Suffice to say, I had enough to satiate my thirst. Pond ready for winter, Sarge ready for whatever.

When The Missus Herself returned to our humble abode, it was indeed dark. But the next day, on our way to church, she complimented me on a fine job. Though she did remark that before winter set in, we needed to get all of those leaves off of the bottom of the pond. The pond being only semi-winterized. Of course. Therefore I said, and you guys know the drill...

"Yes, dear."

I may have sighed, I don't really remember.