Savings From A Rainy Day

By: Ruth Mullen

The Oregonian

Homes & Gardens of the Northwest

July 24, 2003

 

Not many Portland families can honestly say they hope for rain. But Ole and Maitri Ersson do. “Every time it rains, we get a thrill,” Ole says.

 

For almost seven years, the Southeast Portland couple and their three teenagers have showered, flushed, laundered, cooked, irrigated and, yes, even sipped the 29,000 gallons of rainwater they capture from their 1,200-square-foot rooftop each year.

 

They are Portland’s pioneers of rainwater harvesting. And thanks to their ingenuity and foresight, they helped set the standard for city-approved rainwater-catchment systems. The couple received the city’s first permit for rainwater harvesting in 1998, after a prolonged permitting process. Thanks to them, there’s now a code guide for us all. “It’s something I’ve always wanted to do,” says Ole, 48.

 

In fact, rainwater harvesting is far from new. It’s standard practice in many parts of the world, including a flourishing community of raincatchers in thirsty Austin, Texas.

 

“It’s just common-sense stuff,” Ole says. “And it’s not really high tech.”

 

Granted, Ole is a family physician with a head for science, but he insists his $1,500 system is relatively easy to install and maintain. Many parts can be purchased at a hardware store, while others, such as a 3000-gallon cistern, can be found at a farm-supply store. Because of their sheer size, tanks can be buried underground, but the Ersson’s sits behind their house as part of their garden.

 

From September through June, the family relies almost entirely on rainwater for household use. Portland receives between 3 and 4 feet of rain annually, and for every inch of rain the Erssons collect, 750 gallons of water is transported by storm drains into their 1,500-gallon cistern.

 

As a rule, the Erssons take only five-minute showers (except for their three teens, who have been known to linger) and use a highly efficient, front-loading clothes washer. As a result, their household water consumption is about 2,500 gallons a month for a family of five, well below the city average of 5,500 gallons for a household of just over two people.

 

Come June, the Erssons simply flip a switch that hooks them back into the city water system to get through Portland’s dry summers.

 

“Water is a renewable and sustainable resource in Oregon,” Ole says. “People should take advantage of it.”

 

But most of us don’t. And as the city grows, so will the demand for water. “We don’t question growth,” says Mike O’Brien, of Portland’s Office of Sustainable Development. “We just deliver the water.”

 

Rising household water bills, sewer and storm runoff into the Willamette River, and a proposed multimillion-dollar water-treatment plant are just a few of the issues confronting Portland ratepayers. The city is under a court order to reduce the amount of raw sewage that flows into its rivers by 2011. As a result, sewer bills have risen dramatically to pay for $1 billion in repairs to the city’s combined sewer system.

 

“It’s just going to get more expensive,” says Jim Doane, retired principal engineer for the Portland Water Bureau and a commissioner for the Tualatin Valley Water District. “Everybody has to do their part.”

 

Many, in fact, are eager to. According to Doane, more than half of Portland’s single-family homeowners let their lawns go dry and brown in summer. Further proof that conservation is anything but an afterthought here.

 

“There’s a culture in Portland we haven’t seen anywhere else,” Doane says. “People here will do the right thing, and they don’t need a lot of prodding to do it.”

 

But much more could be done.

 

Since they installed their system in 1996, the Erssons have inspired a small trend among local green-building advocates. According to the Office of Sustainable Development, about a dozen or so homeowners have installed similar systems to irrigate their gardens and even flush their toilets.

 

But very few have gone completely off city water. This requires a lot more bureaucratic hassle. That’s because city plumbing inspectors are understandably skittish about water-quality issues. They want to make sure households are vigilant about maintaining a potable water supply.

 

Those who collect rainwater for drinking and showering must test their water twice a year and keep their microbial filters and ultraviolet-light sterilizers in top working order. Rain gutters and storage tanks must also be cleaned periodically.

 

Sure, it’s more work, but the Erssons say the extra effort is well worth it. For one, rainwater tastes much better than city water—there’s no chlorine aftertaste. Plus, there’s no need for hair conditioners or fabric softeners—rainwater is free of salts and minerals. And not paying a city water bill nine months of the year is certainly a bonus. Besides, “people should know what it feels like to take a shower in rainwater,” says Maitri, 53.

 

By setting an example, the Erssons are pushing us all to become more responsible stewards of the earth, even as they enjoy its bounty.

 

“Water is becoming the critical resource of the 21st century,” Ole says. “But we just take it for granted in Oregon.”

 

Savings from a rainy day / Feedback welcome / revised January 22, 2004