The Water Heater

This is a good story of troubleshooting a system you know nothing about.

I have a cabin up near the Dixie National Forest in Utah. Like many homes, it’s got a hot water heater. Like many cabins in the area, this one’s hot water heater was old. Like, probably 12 years. The water in the area is iron-rich to say the least, and even with filters, it puts a lot of wear on a water heater. And also like many cabins in the area, we shut it down entirely for the winter (I hate snow), meaning we cut off the water supply, open low-level cold and hot water drains, and so on. We try to empty as much water as possible to avoid a burst pipe. Because the electricity is a little iffy in the winter, and because the water heater is electric, we shut off and drain as much water as possible from it as part of shutdown.

And then Spring arrives! We make our first trip to the cabin, close the low-level drains (or have our own private Bellagio fountain show), close the water heater drain valve, and open the main water supply. We bleed the air from the lines throughout the cabin by opening each faucet until the water runs steady. I then cut the water heater’s circuit breaker back on, and we go about our opening procedures.

An hour or so later… no hot water. Huh. Well, that’s not totally unusual. We’d discovered in a previous year that each of the two heater elements had its own little plastic circuit breaker pop-button thing, so I trundled to the basement to pop ‘em back in. No sizzling noise, like you could usually faintly hear as the heaters kicked in. An hour later, no hot water.

Uh oh. This was on top of a caved-in skylight, by the way, so we were really sweating our chances. And I know zip about hot water heater repair. But, I mean, how hard can it be? It’s electricity going to a couple of things that’re pretty much what you’d have on an electric stove, right?

So I downloaded the thing’s manual, which had a section on troubleshooting. First step, check the breaker. Done. Second step, check the voltage on the elements using a multimeter. Easy. 220v all the way. Third step, shut the circuit breaker off and check the resistance across the element, using the same multimeter. Infinite resistance–the element was burned out.

This is not, apparently, an unusual problem, because Home Depot sells a Hot Water Heater Repair Kit containing two new elements and a thermostat. While Loving Spouse drives down the mountain to buy one, I start re-draining the heater, after shutting off its water inlet valve on top. When the new Kit arrives, we unscrew the old water heater element and

the water was gushing out at us! “Holy

, get a bucket!” I’d just drained the damn thing, where was all this water coming from? Well, it was sure draining fast now through the 2” hole in the side where the element used to go. Oh, and the element didn’t come out. Not all of it. What came out was a 2” long stub, while the ones in the new Kit were like 8” long. The stub was all corroded. Hmm.

So we did the bucket brigade until the water got below the level of the hole. Now, at this point, you have to do some logical thinking.

1. If the top element was corroded, odds are the bottom one is, too. This must be why the Kit comes with two of them.
2. If this tank is still full of water, then the drain valve in the bottom is probably clogged with goo and corroded metal parts, so it never really drained.
3. We need a new water heater.
4. We can’t get a new heater now, and it’s nighttime, and we need a shower. A hot one, this time, with less cussing.

Buckets at the ready, we removed the lower element. This one was bad, but not as bad; I’m guessing the bottom one only comes on if the water is really cold and you’re using it fast, kind of as a backup to the top one. More bucket-ing. Install two new elements. Open water inlet valve

just tighten the elements down!!!” Okay, no leaks. Now, at this point, again, some logic:

1. Water is coming in the top.
2. Water should flow naturally to the bottom, because gravity.
3. Top is full with air with nowhere to go, which is going to compress as the water enters.
4. At some point, the compressed air may be strong enough to prevent new water from coming in. I know our water pressure is about 50psi, and it doesn’t take much to get air to 50psi.
5. If I turn this thing back on and both elements aren’t underwater, they may explode or something. It can’t be good.
6. I need to let the air out the top.

I don’t know these things, but I strongly suspect them, and logic would suggest that I’m right. Now maybe the air isn’t ever going to get to 50psi or so and stop the water from coming in, but it feels risky.

Flashlight in hand, I poke around the top of the heater until I see what is very obviously a pressure-release valve. That is, it’s a valve, and it’s on the top of the tank. It’s not there for good looks. I open it, and air commences rushing out. Water is going to soon follow it; I get a bucket ready. Sure enough, water starts spurting out. I close the valve. The heater is full of water. Circuit breaker on… and success. I hear The Sizzle, and a bit later we enjoy a nice shower.

And a couple of days later, we replace the heater. This time, we get an old pool cleaning host and a big funnel to catch the water and route it to the basement drain, because removing the elements is the only way to get enough water out to lift the damn thing off its base.

The point here is that I’d never done this before. I still don’t know a lot about the inner workings of a water heater, although I’m imagining now that they’re less magical than I’d suspected. I got a manual, followed some basic steps, watched a YouTube video on using the multimeter to take the measurements, and figured it out. I also learned a good bit about caring for the new water heater so that this doesn’t happen again. I stuck with logic. I followed a procedure. I thought about why I was doing these things, and used those facts to draw conclusions. That’s the Troubleshooting Mind. Even wet.