how was Greenfest? (passive solar in Rhode Island)
“How was Greenfest?” someone asked recently. I thought for just an instant--aside from my daughter Amy working with me all day Sunday, the highlight of the confab was The Guy From Rhode Island.
From out of the throng, The Guy stalked up to our booth, wearing a manic grin. Grizzlebearded, he could have been a well-preserved sixtysomething, or he could have endured 46 or 47 rather hard years--regardless, he was animated and bursting to tell us about the house he built, twenty five years ago, on the Rhode Island coast.
“It has one moving part, and has provided free heat flawlessly every winter since it’s been built.”
“When can I visit?”
The question vanished like a pebble tossed into a rip tide.
“I designed it myself. It’s half-buried into the earth, so it’s cool in summer. We’ve never needed A/C. The state required a minimum of 18” of windows above ground; they provide cross ventilation.”
The design incorporates channels beneath the floor made from concrete blocks laid sideways, with cores aligned. Surmising from a somewhat fragmented conversation--during the day, sunlight from large south facing windows warms up the blocks; at night, cool air descends through vents into the channels. As the air becomes warm, it rises through vents on the opposite side of the floor, and circulates through the room. Yielding its heat to the room, the air descends again to repeat the cycle. The one moving part is a damper to regulate the air flow.
The Guy added a flourish to the system--the sequence of rooms is organized to coordinate the course of the sun with his family’s daily activities.
“The kids are up first, so I placed the playroom on the eastern end. A little later we get up to make breakfast, so the kitchen is next in line. The dining area follows. The living room is where we spend our evenings, so it’s located on the west, to catch the afternoon sun. And I put the kids' bedrooms on the north side--they can take the cold!”
Ah, for the simpler days of OPEC, and the shock of gasoline hitting 50 cents a gallon. Jimmy Carter in a cardigan sweater. When he conceived this house, was Our Guy regarded as a genius or a weird-o; was he celebrated or shunned?
I’ll choose to ignore the question, like The Guy ignored mine. Rather I’ll bring a fresh attitude to my next project; we CAN do this stuff, we CAN pull it off.
-AA