Conservancy – septic tank install.
The restoration of a property like Rusticana is often a mix of the profoundly technical and the deeply emotional. Our most recent trip to Brandvlei was no exception, as my father and I set out to tackle one of the most essential—if unglamorous—infrastructure projects to date: the installation of a brand-new conservancy tank.
In the Northern Cape, municipal services operate on a different rhythm than the "fancy" sewage systems of the city. Brandvlei relies on a decentralised model where each home stores its own "black water" in onsite tanks. Periodically, a municipal truck makes the rounds to pump out these units and haul the waste to a treatment plant located a few kilometres outside of town. It is an old-school, rugged system that requires your infrastructure to be in peak condition.
Our mission was to replace our ancient, built-in tank—a crumbling relic that was well past its sell-by date—with a modern, heavy-duty plastic conservancy tank. However, before the tank could find its home, we had to contend with the Karoo earth itself. I managed to recruit two local men to assist with the excavation, a task that quickly turned into a battle of wills against the geology of the region. The ground here isn't just soil; it is a compacted fortress of slate and solid rock. Reaching our target depth of nearly two meters with a 1.5-meter radius felt less like digging and more like quarrying.
After days of gruelling manual labour, we finally hit our mark. We poured a solid cement base to ensure a level foundation, and with a collective sigh of relief, lowered the new tank into its cavern. We have since backfilled the area, leaving it ready for the reinforced concrete slab we plan to pour in the next phase. For now, we are still utilising the old tank while we finalise the connections, but knowing the new system is in the ground provides an incredible sense of security.
Amidst the dust and the heavy lifting, however, there was a palpable sense of change. My father, usually the first to jump into a technical challenge, moved with a different kind of quiet this time. Between tasks, I would find him sitting with a cup of tea, staring out across the vast, arid horizon, lost in thought. It was clear his heart was heavy with the absence of my mother; you could feel the weight of his memories in every silent moment.
This trip was particularly poignant as it marked Dad’s final "swan song" visit to Rusticana. After years of being my foreman, navigator, and mentor, he is finally hanging up his tool belt regarding the Brandvlei project. Seeing him oversee this last major installation felt like the closing of a significant chapter. He has left his mark on this house in the pipes, the wiring, and the very ground we broke this weekend. As we packed up for the final time together, the new tank hidden beneath the earth felt like a metaphor for his contribution: a solid, reliable foundation that will keep this home running for decades to come.
