Drink up: Artesian wells and fountains

Let’s return to the subject of the public water supply.  Even with thousands of rain-collecting wells in the city, Venice needed more water.  (Bear in mind that in the 1600’s Venice had some 200,000 inhabitants).  And they were thirsty, needed to wash their clothes, needed to dye their wool and silk, and so on.

I do not know how many artesian wells have ever been drilled here, so please do not ask me.  But they were precious, obviously, especially when there was a drought.  Or when bombs began to fall in the 20th century, threatening the aqueduct.

This trusty artesian well is in the Campo dei Ognissanti in Dorsoduro.  Like many fountains here it lacks any sort of basin, no matter how small, for animals to drink from.  I do not understand this.
A restoration a few years ago added the official inscription…
“Prof.ta M 209.75 ” means “Profondita’ (profundity, depth) 209.75 meters,” or 688.15 feet.
This artesian well in Campo San Basso, otherwise known as the Piazzetta dei Leoncini, has been bubbling up for centuries.  It is said to be the deepest in the city.  I know no more, but if it’s deeper than the one at Ognissanti it deserves more respect than it ever gets.
There are always pigeons splashing around here, it must be something like a spa for them.
The upwelling water is easy to discern here. Curiously, while this pool must be a godsend to the pigeons and passing dogs, there is absolutely no provision here for supplying water to parched passersby. It’s the opposite of the fountain at the Ognissanti (and elsewhere).  What is so hard about the notion of supplying water to everybody/thing?
Do you see a well in Campazzo San Sebastiano? Look closer.
This metal cap covers the pipe which once carried the artesian water, and presumably could still carry it. This is near Lino’s childhood neighborhood, and he walked by here on the way to elementary school every day.  He remembers that this well was open during the Second World War, with a big tank set up to collect the water. Considering the bombs falling on Mestre (crucial railway node and near the industrial zone), the risk of losing water from the aqueduct was not to be taken lightly.  I think it would be an excellent idea to open this again.  There are plenty of dehydrated people who pass by here every day.
This is a very rough sketch of the water-tank-and-faucets set up on the artesian well in Campazzo San Sebastiano. As Lino recalls it, the tank was sitting on sawhorses, or some supporting structure (not shown).  The tank was filled by means of a tube attached to the fountain, and the water from the tank filled two long, closed metal tubes extending from both sides.  Faucets were punched into these tubes.  There was an overflow trough below the faucets, and an overflow tube from the top of the tank emptied the excess water into the trough.  The excess water flowed away toward one of the still-open “gatoli,” or drains, that once conveyed rainwater to a subterranean cistern, as written about in my earlier post.  Women brought their cooking pots, buckets, whatever container was called for, and filled up.
One is strangely tempted to bring a set of strong pliers…One is strangely not tempted to be arrested and hauled away.
Campo Sant’Agnese has a real, if decommissioned, well (background), and the scar of something (foreground) that looks very like a well. Perhaps this was one of those described by Tassini (translated by me): “In the 1500’s a well was drilled of the type called artesian. Marin Sanuto writes that ‘on July 8, 1533 there came to the Colegio sier Vincenzo Zorzi, sier Polo Loredan, sier Almoro’ Morexini Proveditori de Comun saying that following the orders of the Serenissimo and the most illustrious Signoria, they went to see the well in the district of Sant’ Agnese…'”  He goes on to say that the engineers had dug to a depth of 16 “passi,” and had found fresh water.  (A Venetian “passo” was equivalent to 1.738 meters, or 5.7 feet.  Therefore they hit the water table at 91.2 feet down.) There’s more.
Campo Sant’ Agnese on a tranquil summer day.  It wasn’t so tranquil on an unspecified day in 1866 when a crew was digging a well in a little garden attached to a brewery here and they hit water. Tassini: “A column of mud and sand, freed by the water and gas from the turbid strata pierced by the drill, hurled itself 40 meters (131 feet) in the air, deluging this material on the church as well as the nearby buildings and damaging them because of the collapse of the  underlying terrain.”  No report on the effect on the beer.

Most of the fountains that we see today around the city running day and night are supplied by the city aqueduct.  My next post will reveal the dazzling engineering of the historic — pre-20th century — Venetian aqueduct, but at the moment I want to acknowledge the burbling municipal H2O that has revived countless tourists.

As here. Filling up your own bottle is an excellent way to avoid paying the exorbitant prices for bottled water.
Thirsty dogs just have to figure out how to drink from a falling jet of water. It’s not that hard, but if I had a dog I’d definitely carry around a collapsible bowl.  I mean, come on.
But certainly we’re all grateful for the running water.  At least when the water IS running.
There is a number of fountains that are permanently dry, turned off, extinguished, whatever the correct term is. If you’re thirsty, seeing a fountain with no water appears to be something between a mirage and a deliberate affront.
However, there are some fountains, such as this one near SS. Giovanni and Paolo, that flow more or less briskly during the summer. The reason for closing some fountains between December and March is precisely to save water, seeing that the need for water isn’t as urgent when it’s freezing cold and there are relatively few tourists around, and those that are around aren’t perishing of thirst.
Then there are fountains which have been closed summer and winter.  This was running just fine till a few years ago, and even though I live nearby, and could easily run home for a drink, you have no idea how often on a sweltering summer day I would gladly avail myself of some water.  But no.  It must be part of the group of 70 fountains which have been closed because they weren’t in high-traffic tourist areas (a statistic dating from 2008).  Since then, enough of the city has become a high-traffic tourist area, especially when the sun is at its broilingest, to nullify that exception.  Open the dang fountain already!
The entire world seems to have given up on this fountain, just two steps from our house in an unimportant little courtyard.  Until recently it was running (well, dripping) just fine, minding its own business.  Then it was sealed, and now this.

Many people have asked me the obvious question: All that water running all the time, isn’t it a tremendous waste?  Veritas, the water company, says that it isn’t.  I suppose they would.  I haven’t found a contrasting opinion to that, but I have had to suspend more research because life is short.

The logical solution, as people occasionally suggest, is to install faucets so that only the water that’s needed at the moment comes pouring out.  Simple?  Of course not!

An Italian member of an online political forum, who goes by the name “gava,” wrote (translation by me): “My project to install faucets to eliminate waste of precious drinkable water from the fountains is not easy to realize.

“In Venice there are about 200 fountains which consume about 800 cubic meters of water a day (800,000 liters, or 211,337 US gallons).  A considerable amount, there’s no doubt.  But let’s think for a moment, the water comes directly from the spring at Scorze’, it has no costs for pumping or purification, they only add some chlorine.

“Furthermore, the installation of a switch would increase the bacterial load in the first stretch of pipe, and the controls made by ASL (the local health department) demonstrate this.  Practically speaking, to install faucets would give a tiny economic advantage and many disadvantages, from the maintenance of the pushbuttons (of the faucet) which are subject to frequent breaks, to the presence of bacteria in the first tract of water. (I think he means where the water exits from the faucet, which when the faucet is closed would promote buildup of bacteria.)

“Over the past five years, I’ve seen a maximum of 30 functioning fountains in Venice (note: VeniceWiki has made a map but a quick check shows it is incomplete). Those that have been closed for years may have something more than simple bacteria in the pipes, up to real encrustation. In any case, I still think that the system of filtering and taps could be improved, I don’t want it to be an excuse for throwing water away.”

An unnamed ex-member of this forum replied: “I remember that some time back they started to install pushbuttons but the main problem was that they break really easily, and so a good number of fountains were put back to the old system.”

To complicate matters, Veritas is responsible only for the fountains in the public parks; the others are maintained by “other organs,” which I have not identified.  But the fact that all the fountains aren’t managed by the same company means that of course there will be administrative and/or bureaucratic problems involved in any change.

So while we’re all waiting for simplicity and conservation to reign on earth, I suggest you drink the fountain water as much as you can.  After all, it’s there for you.

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