After we bought our house in the late Eighties we finished our basement and as part of the project the contractor was able to construct a separate space for a darkroom. What was so exciting was that for the first time I was going to have running water! Beyond having the small plastic sink located in the space, I would now have the opportunity to have a real darkroom sink my printing trays (and eventually a Jobo processor) could easily fit in. After considerable thought I decided I wanted a ten-foot sink that would easily accommodate a number of 16×20 trays.

Of course I wanted a stainless steel sink and in the late Eighties before the digital onslaught they were expensive, even when used. The price – – about $3000! Not even remotely possible! I informed my wife of the price and she promptly informed me that we couldn’t afford it. Then I told her I would build one out of wood. Her immediate response was laughing derision. She was familiar with my skillset so it would be better if we found the money for the stainless steel sink. She said at least it wouldn’t leak. Yes I had never built anything of any significance and even the small jobs were pretty much of a joke. I was aware of this. I love being told the obvious by the one I love.

So what was I to do? The only thing possible, given the perceived gauntlet that had been thrown down – BUILD A LARGE WOODEN SINK! Locate some plans. Check! I found a great book that I recommend to anyone considering a darkroom, “Build Your Own Home Dark-Room”, by Lista Deren and Will McDonald, Amherst Media (still available used). Purchase all the requisite materials and necessary tools. Check! Proceed to build it. Check! Yes, it wasn’t completely perfect, and it took a lot longer than I thought it would take to build, but damn it, it held water and even drained as it should!

There was only one problem that I didn’t think about then. I built it in the confined space of the newly completed darkroom and I soon realized that I would never be able to get it out the door, around the corner and up the adjacent stairs if we ever decided to move. No problem, I used it for twenty-five trouble free years and actually developed an attachment to the thing.

When we sold the house I promised the buyers I would get rid of the sink and cap off all the associated plumbing. Then I had another idea as improbable as my one to build the sink in the first place. I would saw both the sink and its base in half so it could be moved to Pennsylvania where it would eventually be put back together!

Again, my wife thought I was crazy, and after over thirty-five years of marriage she had the evidence to prove it. So what was I to do? Call me a sap but I wasn’t going to abandon it! So a good friend of mine brought a very frightening power tool over and together we were able to saw the whole thing in half. Well sort of.

The pieces were moved to Pennsylvania, and with the help of a kindly carpenter, who first laughed but then felt sorry for me, the sink was put back together again.

All’s well that ends well!