Tanks for the memory

Aahhh! Rainwater, so pure and sweet, far better than what comes out of our taps today. Or is it? 

Maybe, if you have a modern tank, tightly covered and fitted with a strainer. But the old galvanised iron tanks of my childhood could be a bit dodgy. The welcome sound of rain on the roof could mean all sorts of stuff being washed into the tank – dust, leaves, bird droppings, dead insects.

Occasionally there was something bigger – hapless possums could fall into uncovered tanks. The story was told of a local hall where people complained that the tea at supper-time tasted odd. Sure enough, when the tank was inspected…Ugh!

In even earlier days, there were underground water tanks, built of brick rendered with cement. Water had to be retrieved with a bucket on a rope, or a hand-pump, laborious work. The water stayed nice and cool in summer though, and containers of milk and butter were often stored down there, to be hauled up when needed. No doubt a few fell in, too!

Over the years, a rainwater tank acquires a build-up of sludge in the bottom, which eventually has to be cleaned out. Watching this operation can be a bit off-putting – you mean we’ve been drinking THAT?

An iron tank that was starting to show a few leaks could be repaired by applying a patch - some material dipped in tar or thin cement – a piece of Dad’s old work trousers was good for this.

A tank could gain a new lease of life if the inside was concreted – first you lined it with wire netting, and then applied layers of concrete. Over the years these tanks sometimes acquired ‘stalagmites’ from seepage.

If you were flush enough to buy a new tank, the retired one was turned on its’ side and chocked with a couple of logs, to provide storage for firewood or stock food.

The tank was usually mounted on a timber stand, ideally of redgum to deter white ants. Otherwise they might munch away undetected for yers, until the inevitable happened and tank and stand came crashing to the ground.

Some people covered the tank stand with hessian or wire netting and grew creepers over it, and Mum’s precious collection of ferns found shelter there too.

 Nowadays you can buy a mighty fine tank of fibreglass or plastic, in a range of sizes and colours. And there’s provision for turning the first flush of rainwater away, until the roof is clean.

Modern tanks are mosquito proof too. Wrigglers in your glass of water are a bit of a turn-off – you could always strain them out of course (and we did!) and remind Dad to climb up and add a spoonful of kero to the water.

Surprisingly, this doesn’t taint the water; kerosine is a very thin oil, and just floats on top of the water.

Another water container must be mentioned, too – the canvas water bag. Once found on the bumper-bar, or the running-board, of every car, you wouldn’t leave home without it in the summer. Made of sturdy canvas, it kept your drinking water cool by evaporation from the damp surface of the bag. 

Water from a waterbag has a unique taste, but nonetheless welcome to a thirsty traveller.

Maybe our modern tap-water isn’t so bad after all…