So the first rain in 30 days hit the Lower Mainland yesterday evening with such ferocity it punched a hole in our beleaguered roof. This we discover as we bed down, past midnight, after an already exhausting day. In retrospect, amusing, though at the time not so much so. Pics show the bucket battalion mobilised to defend, after a long night and a partial emptying.
So the first leak started where the blue bucket was. As I was affixing a paper-clip/string dangly (stops the dripping noise!) to this one minor irritation, about five other points in the ceiling sprung up and began their symphonic accompaniment. At this point we gathered whatever Rubbermaids and saucepans we could, with a sort of Dutch-boy naïveté. With these in place, the valence above the window (upper left) began pouring like a water-feature at a posh restaurant. Towels and Old Navy bags were strewn about halfheartedly. Our indoor pool party had reached Egyptian-plague proportions, minus the frogs and divinely induced SIDS.
By the way, note the ingenious blue-bucket/Garbino overflow system in centre-right frame (gimme a break: I was half-delirious with fatigue, the other half with incredulity). This turned out to be a lifesaver: Blue was full and the Garbino close to brimming by the morning. To imagine the scale of the inflow: the white bin holds ~30litres and was totally full in ~6 hours. Note this wasn’t the biggest leak.
Anyways, once the troops were in place we managed a fitful sleep and woke to find our placements had held back the deluge, barely. Roofer’s coming in Friday, and the forecast is sun till Tuesday, so everything is falling into place (except, we hope, the roof).
Oh no! I’ve had a similar experience of deluge in the living room. I remember hoping for the sudden appearance of a Moses-like figure to part the sea and at least let me traverse through the room without making funny (well, funny to my adolescent brother, rather heartbreaking to my mother) squelchy noises. I hope you have a shop vac at your disposal. If not, call my brother (you have my mom’s old number right, Naz? the 271… If not, call Cheryl) and tell him I told you to lend it to him. Wow, that last sentance is quite the messy abuse of pronouns. Anyhow, good luck with your troubles! Oh, and check the roof repair. Aaron’s parents current roof has no tar pap, as he found out to his chagrin after a ferocious wind storm. We’ll be thinking of you in sunny CA!
Oops, tar PAPER, not pap. Brain’s leaking along with your roof.
Supervise the roofers work if you can — many are notorious for cutting corners as much of the work they do is never inspected by the homeowner until it’s too late.
Flashing must be in place in valleys, around skylights, or other protrusions. Asphalt shingles need to be nailed in with roofing nails, usually 6 per sheet, and in the right place. Tar paper should be put on before the shingles.
I had the pleasure of inspecting my parent’s roof when a neighbor kindly pointed out a gaping hole in the shingle work… no tar paper, shingles were tacked on with a single staple (and that single staple was in the wrong spot), and the roofer had long changed phone numbers (or probably went out of business)
Good luck, grab some beer, and act as foreman or supervisor at least.