Percolation Test In Brockenhurst Portable May 2026

He’d dug the hole at dawn. A perfect cube, one metre deep, two metres wide, at the lowest point of the field where the rushes grew thickest. That was rule one: test the worst spot. He’d roughed up the bottom with a rake, just as the British Standard told him, breaking the smeared clay walls. Now, he filled a five-gallon bucket from a nearby stream and poured it in. The water sat there, murky and indifferent, like a cold eye staring back at the grey sky.

He started his phone’s stopwatch. The first hour was agony. The water level dropped only a centimetre. He imagined the water molecules panicking, finding no escape, just slick, impervious clay. He thought of the bank manager’s thin smile, Jess’s worried silences at 2 a.m., the way his daughter had started calling their rented flat “the temporary home.” percolation test in brockenhurst

At 30 minutes, another 7mm. He did the math. 12mm per half hour. 24mm per hour. The magic number from the planning portal was 15mm per hour as the absolute minimum. He was above it. Just barely. He’d dug the hole at dawn

He reset the test properly. Soaked the hole overnight. Came back at dawn. This time, he filled the hole to a precise 300mm depth, marked a stake, and waited. He’d roughed up the bottom with a rake,