Buckets and a bit of muscle: Low-tech approach helps Santa Rosa gardener stretch drought supply

We started getting those “uh oh” feelings in December. The consecutive sunny days, mild temperatures and utter lack of clouds combined to create a sense of deep unease that was all too familiar.

And when the storms kept tracking north all the way through March and water officials sounded the alarm about record low reservoir levels and scant snowpack in the Sierra, it was, as Yogi Berra observed, déjà vu all over again: We were in for another drought of potentially devastating severity.

How devastating, of course, will depend on duration. As a family, we discussed the long-term social and civic consequences of another extended drought. But the big issues were out of our hands. Like everyone else, we had to endure the here and now with as little disruption to our daily lives as possible.

And that was particularly problematic for us. I like to garden, and my family likes the home-grown fruit and vegetables I grow in our Rincon Valley yard. Our local pollinators appreciate the zinnias I plant. And I find the work personally gratifying and a great mechanism for relieving stress. Also, I’d hoped to expand my garden this year: an extra tomato patch in the backyard, more vegetables of all varieties in the front. The certitude of water restrictions couldn’t have come at a worse time for us.

Wholesale recycling of family’s graywater

I considered scaling back my ambitions dramatically, but after some thought I decided to move ahead with my plans, accommodating the realities of the drought with extra mulching, judicious and minimal hand watering — and wholescale recycling of our family’s graywater, from bathroom sinks, showers, tubs and washing machine.

I’d been down this road before, of course. The 2012-2016 drought was the driest period in recorded state history, and I had managed to keep gardening. So I was ready in terms of both technology and technique. As before, I ascribed to the acronym KISS: Keep It Simple, Stupid.

This is partly because I’m – well, a little stupid. Some neighbors had responded to the looming drought with rather complex gravity-flow systems or pump apparatuses to shunt their graywater directly from source to plants. But that seemed daunting.

Plus, I’m lazy when it comes to plotting out schematics. If given an option, I’ll always default to simple brute labor to solve a household problem.

So first, I had to gear up. My needs were minimal: four 5-gallon buckets and two 32-gallon plastic garbage cans from Home Depot. Also, a couple of bales of wheat straw, to be replenished as necessary. I already had a required eight-foot extension to my washing machine hose. (Two older garbage cans that I used in the previous drought are now employed in my composting system.)

One bucket went into the shower stalls of each of our bathrooms. I attached the hose to my washing machine, putting the opposite end into one of the two garbage cans now situated just outside our garage back door. Our graywater collection system was officially up and running.

Naturally, my approach takes monitoring and labor, necessities that more automated systems avoid. When the buckets eventually fill with bypass water from our five-minute showers, I schlep them out the front door and carefully dole out the contents to our rose and blueberry bushes with a discarded child’s plastic beach bucket.

With my washing machine graywater system, I have to change the hoses from one garbage can to another between the wash and rinse cycles. Each large load of wash leaves me with two brimming garbage cans, which I then empty with my two remaining buckets, lugging them to all my vegetables, annual flowers and fruit trees.

Plantings growing under wheat straw mulch

Virtually all my plantings are growing under a heavy wheat straw mulch, conserving moisture and reflecting rather than absorbing solar energy. To date, I’m able to slake the thirst of everything that’s growing on my property. I might have to do some triage if water restrictions tighten — say, write off the Jerusalem artichokes and begonias to save the tomatoes and chard — but so far, so good.

It takes about 20 or 30 minutes to complete a full round of irrigation. Yes, it’s a lot of work — but it’s not drudgery. I’ve incorporated my watering routine into our family’s daily schedule: up early, make coffee for my wife and me, fix breakfast for our young son, then haul buckets while my wife washes up the dishes. I’m watering in the cool of the morning, the air is crisp and sweet, and birds are singing. It’s an enjoyable way to start the day. And if it’s a heavy wash day I’ll do a second watering at dusk, which is also pleasant.

Further, it makes me a better gardener. Watering by hand from a bucket requires you to get up close and personal with every plant. A week ago, I noticed some of my broccoli plants had been ravaged by slugs and snails, so I went on a few midnight patrols with a flashlight, plucking off the offending mollusks. I pick weeds while they’re still small, and I can identify plants that are looking a bit wan and peaked and might benefit from a dose of fish emulsion.

Hand watering, in short, forces you to slow down and directly engage with your garden. The garden — and ultimately, the gardener — profit as a result.

You will get toned

Finally, there’s another benefit to bucket brigade graywater irrigation: it gets you physically fit. I’d subscribed to a regular if not overly rigorous exercise program prior to the water emergency, but hauling buckets has definitely improved my strength. No real surprise there when you run the numbers. Water weighs 8.34 pounds per gallon. I’m hauling between 75 and 140 gallons – or between 625 and 1,168 pounds – daily. And I’m toting it in buckets that end up weighing between 33 and 42 pounds: one in each hand, lifting, bending, stooping and twisting.

In short, you may not get pumped from hauling graywater — but speaking from personal experience, you will get toned.