The Making of a Waterfall

An artful blend of technical know-how and aesthetics brings falling water to a garden
By B.B. Stamats and David Barnhizer

Had it not been for World War I and the Model T, the idea of putting a waterfall in our side yard probably would not have crossed our minds. Around 1910, the New York, New Haven, & Hartford Railroad planned to add a line from White Plains, New York, to Danbury, Connecticut. As part of the effort to construct a railroad bed, they carved through a particular Ridgefield, Connecticut, hillside, creating about 50 yards of level land and a cliff of sheer limestone 90 feet long and 17 feet high. But with the war threatening and more and more commuters driving instead of taking the train, they abandoned the idea.

In 1943, about thirty years and a war-and-a-half later, an old saltbox (circa 1750) was moved to that site from down the road. By the time we bought the house in 1975, a small porch, screened on three sides, had been added. We dined on the porch every evening in good weather, enjoying the view of the cliff that spanned our side yard.

It took a few years and perhaps 300 to 400 dinners before one of us mused "I wonder what a waterfall would look like?" "Disneyland, probably." "Maybe, maybe not." A few dozen dinners later, we agreed that the only way to find out whether it was a good idea–or a gauche idea–was to try it

When you live in an antique house with a delicate well, copper pipes, and a septic system, you need a clever plumber. So when we described the waterfall-pond idea to our plumber, Bob, it was no surprise that he responded, "We can do that." After studying the site for a full 10 seconds, he determined that we'd need a 1-horsepower pump and about 60 feet of 2-inch PVC pipe to circulate enough water from the pond we'd construct to the top of the cliff to deliver a "half-decent-looking waterfall." We later discovered that there's a formula to determine the size of the pump needed, but since we trusted Bob's ingenuity, we took his word for it.

Putting the pipes in place

While waiting for the cement base to cure, Bob installed a MyersWHR10 pump (information: 419-289-1144). Since it's actually designed as a sewage pump, Bob explained that when leaves fell into the pond, it would "chew 'em up," preventing them from clogging the system. From the pump, Bob laid a length of 2-inch PVC pipe in a shallow trench to the west end of the cliff and through a crevasse to the top of the cliff (see illustration).

At the end of the pipe on the top of the cliff, he installed three valves (see illustration). The middle valve feeds the main waterfall, and the two side valves feed the rivulets. Bob laid 1-inch PVC pipe from the two side valves to the crevasses on each side of the main fall (see illustration). We can adjust these valves to control of the flow of water over the cliff.

After Bob installed the pipes to the top of the waterfall, he laid a length of 1-inch PVC pipe in a shallow trench from a spigot located at the side of the house to the east end of the pond. He also installed a float valve (like the one in a toilet tank) just below the top of the pond (see detailed illustration). As the water level in pond sinks from normal evaporation, the float valve turns on automatically, drawing water from the house to keep the water level in the pond constant.

We hired an electrician to install an all-weather junction box near the pond. He connected the junction box to the breaker box in our basement with a standard 120-volt line (Romex underground feeder) that he laid in the same trench as the water line (see illustration). At the junction box, he installed two outlets–one to provide power to the pump and another for general use, each with a ground-fault protector and built-in reset button. We eventually used the second outlet for lighting along the path to the falls. The electrician mounted an on-off switch for the pump and a dimmer for the lights in the house near our side door.

The Last step: adding water

Because our well delivers only 1 gallon per minute to the 300-gallon holding tanks Bob put in our basement several years before, the approximately 1500 gallons needed to fill the pond would wipe out our daily water supply for about a week. So we called a pool water company, and they filled our little pond in five minutes.

Finally, with all the components in place, we said grace, substituting "waterfall" for "bounteous meal," and plugged in the pump. There was a low, sucking sound as the level of the pond dropped an inch, then a deep hollow gurgling like Godzilla's death rattle. A long, 6 seconds later, our gusher came in, shooting a column of water over the edge of the cliff, past the pond, and out into the garden! It was not exactly the effect we were after, but the volume was perfect. With the addition of a few well-placed rocks, the pipes were hidden, the water flow was deflected, and we had our waterfall. We then adjusted the side valves to get the flow of water to the rivulets looking good, and pronounced it an artistic triumph of non-Disneyesque proportions. We drank several toasts to our creative brilliance, cleverness, and non-pareil taste.

The next morning, we noticed that the water level in the pond was sinking at an alarming rate, and we wondered if there was a leak somewhere. Bob thought the problem would correct itself once the cement in the pond completely cured. We waited a few weeks, but the sinking didn't subside. A pool construction guy convinced us to empty the pond and spray the base of the pool with a coat of gunnite, which would act as a sealant. The next load of water held, and the problem was solved. It was at this point that we had to admit that our cost estimate had been low by about 500 percent. When all was said and done, our waterfall had cost about $8000. But it looked, and sounded, great.

Maintaining the waterfall

As far as maintenance goes, there's little to do from late April through October except to feed our fish and use a pool-cleaning net to remove some of the early autumn leaves. Because the water lines from the house to the pond and from the pond to the falls are buried only a couple inches deep, we open the valves at the top of the cliff and blow out the lines with a compressor in early November before freezing weather arrives. Also at that time, we stretch netting over the pond to catch the bulk of the falling and blowing leaves. For the benefit of the somnolent fish, we drop a floating electric heating element (De-Icer, Model S1500, manufacturer's phone number) into the pond during the winter months to keep an oxygen hole open.

Mid-April is spring-cleaning time. Using our household sump pump, we transfer most of the water from the pond into a portable kiddie pool. As the water level in the pond sinks, it's easy to catch the fish in a net and transfer them to a small holding tank. Because the last few inches of water are muddy, we pump it into the woods. After shoveling out the mud and leaves at the bottom, we hose down the pond interior and drain the resulting puddle with the sump pump. Once that's done, we reverse the process, pumping the water from the kiddie pool back into the pond, releasing the fish as soon as the water is deep enough. The whole effort takes us about 8 hours, determined mainly by the power of our sump pump.

Over the years, we've nurtured a pre-school of fish (mostly koi and shubunkins) which thrive in our pond, and we've experimented with various water plants. The falls have also stimulated a substantial growth of mosses on the face of the cliff and rocks around the pool, adding to the naturalistic look. But the truth be told: with the addition of flora above, below, and all around, the waterfall has become an attraction to garden visitors, many of whom are also fans of Disneyland.

Mosses on the face of the cliff and rocks around the pool add to the naturalistic look.

As B.B. summarizes, "The picture is quite dramatic, of course, but the sound the water makes as it cascades off the rock shelf and into the pond is a substantial part of our pleasure. It's not only restful, but it completely masks the buzz of traffic from the road below our house. It also masks the sound of David's cornet. He loves to sit out by the waterfall in the evening with a gin and tonic and play his horn right at it." David adds, "It's like singing in the shower. After about 15 minutes, between the gin and the waterfall, I am Wynton Marsalis."