She has now willingly entered the world of extreme composting, a place where all organic matter is treated with respect and dignity, and is seen for what it is: a valuable natural resource. In our quest for sustainability, we have made a substantial investment in a simple tool that will turn our ‘pollution’ on the sailboat into a beneficial product. Last week, upon our doorstep, we found our brand new composting head.
(Warning: from here on out, there will be some detailed scatalogical discussion).
Selkie, our Pearson Triton 28, currently has a traditional Lavac marine head, but there is no holding tank, meaning we can flush, but whatever we flush will immediately exit the hull and enter the sea. The same sea where we will be doing our snorkeling, fishing, and dishwashing. Offshore this is not a problem, but when we’ve been laying at anchor in a pristine, emerald watered cove for two weeks, this probably would not suffice.
We could have installed a holding tank, but the cost would have been comparable to the cost of the composting head, and then we’d lose that much more storage space. And then there’s the smell. The holding tank, and specifically the hoses, are renowned for their malodorous assaults on a sailor’s olfactory organs. How about the smell of the composting head, though, it can’t be much better right? Well, according to everybody that has one, the odor of the composting head is very minimal at the worst times, and non-existent the rest of the time.
The composting head works its magic by providing a means to separate the liquids from the solids. As long as the solids tank remains fairly dry, ventilated, agitated, and aerobic, the composting process proceeds in an odorless fashion. The liquid tank, when full of sterile urine, can simply be dumped overboard. We’ll provide updates on installation and how well it really works in July.
Anybody have tips on installation, use or maintenance for one of these contraptions?…
(Ed. note: Here’s where we expect some good smartass remarks from everybody)