Seeing the dark stream meandering across the basement floor, I sprang into action: Take a leak (First things first!) and get a bucket of water running and begin sopping up the stain before Trish makes a surprise incursion into the basement. Oh Shite, what happened – I know, the pressure in the carboy blew the blow off tube off of the thingy and at some point during the night spraying a fountain of fermenting beer across the ceiling and all points (and objects) about the brewing table*.
Nope, not worse case scenario after all. The issue did involve the blow off tube, but not too awful badly: the tube exit-end had merely ejaculated from the bucked of water like a tiny flexible rocket and spewed foam out upon the table which, when coalesced, became a puddle which became a beerfall, which became the rivulet which meandered across the floor. Not too bad. Maybe a liter of production gone awry; still about 22 liters in the carboy. Not as bad as the ill-fated Chocolate Vanilla Stout episode involving an airlock that was unable to process the pressure produced by the violently voracious yeast farting CO2 into the carboy. While that one DID hit the ceiling it also blew out about 6 liters of the best smelling beer that I’ve never been able to replicate since. Must have been the freshness of the Vanilla beans….
All cleaned up, Dog Angel helping me before I could stop her; We will see if Trish’s sensors detect any brewing sins, later…
*BTW, for those of you that remember… My brewing table is the very same one that Nanny & Da had in their kitchen. Remember hours of playing with the cigar boxes full of cargo from distant pasts on that table? And the modeling clay? Ah… Good times as a you’t at granny’s…
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