Making a splash

It began more than a decade ago when I spied an old cast-iron bathtub in my inlaws' former Maine home. It looked like a piece of sculpture with its flowing lines, ornate faucets, and white marble chunks for feet.

A tall, stocky Bostonian, my father-in-law suffered from arthritis. He had retrieved the behemoth from his mother's brownstone in Back Bay, and lugged it along with a wood-burning scullery stove to his new home in Maine.

The subsequent owners of my inlaws' house, I discovered, had never actually used the tub. The grand old thing had served as a decorative piece and source of entertainment for their tabby cat. In Yankee spirit, they were willing to swap it for a nickel-plated chandelier my thrifty in-laws had stripped from their house before moving again.

It took my husband and three other men to lift the tub and move it out of the small bathroom, down a flight of stairs, over a newel post, and out the front door. But that was just the beginning of the saga -- the sanding, painting, and the ingenuity of my plumber -- to get the old "Standard" working in my home.

Freestanding tubs like mine, once put to such undignified uses as horse troughs or beer coolers, are back in style. Cramped, built-in baths -- all the rage during the 1960s -- are being torn out in favor of old soakers or reproductions. Tubs form the centerpiece of today's more lavish, liveable bathroom.

For baby boomers and others, nostalgic for their childhoods and seeking to unwind from their fast-paced lives, the bathroom has become a sanctuary and place to pamper themselves. In the tub, they can relax with a book or cup of tea. Fragrant bath salts, foaming bath gels, and milled soaps enhance the ritual of bathing.

American Standard, Kohler, and other producers of bathroom fixtures have taken the cue, dusting off and refining old designs, and introducing vintage-style baths, sinks, and toilets that meet modern plumbing codes and performance standards.

Waterworks has led the way, selling highly designed tubs and other bath fixtures handcrafted in Europe. The family-run Connecticut business has grown from one showroom to 35 stores nationwide and its bathroom products cover everything from bud vases to acacia-scented soap.

Many Waterworks products are beyond most people's means. The Clothilde -- a hand-hammered copper tub made in Normandy, France -- commands $29,000.

For people with a good eye, who enjoy scavenging and assembling their own bathroom, shops and salvage yards specializing in architectural antiquities have surfaced across the United States. Unable, previously, to give clawfoots away, junk and antique dealers now comb the country and beyond for old tubs, sinks, towel racks, soap baskets, and other bathroom fixtures.

A-1 Plumbing in Somerville specializes in antique plumbing fixtures and radiators. The company usually has several dozen bathtubs in stock. Prices range from $200 to $2,500.

Manager Joel Minnich confirms that tub sales have surged in recent years. He notes clawfoots have appeared in popular television shows like "Seinfeld" and "Friends."

"I think a lot of it has to do with the media," he said. "Jerry Seinfeld has a clawfoot tub. Kramer put a garbage disposal drain in his, and made dinner in it."

For tubbers, lacking the time or patience to hunt, reproductions are the way to go. They vary from the high-backed slipper tub to double-enders that fit two people. The acrylics or ones made of composites are much lighter than old clawfoots. Some say they heat up faster and stay warm longer. Replica faucets and fittings come in different setups and myriad styles and finishes. Plus, replacement parts are available.

Vintage-style baths are not cheap. Expect to pay at least $1,100 and that doesn't include fixtures, fittings, or even the feet in the case of some modern cast-iron models. Kohler's Ironworks Historic Bath, a cast-iron clawfoot, sells for about $2,223. A set of chrome Revival Bath Faucets with handshower, drain, riser tubes, and clawfeet adds $1,660.

Kim Kettler, an artist and former restaurant owner in Truro, debated whether to buy a reproduction or period tub when she started remodeling a garrison Colonial in the Lower Cape Cod town last year. She has added a turret, cupola, and wrap-round porch to give the house character and an older look.

Kettler, who has three children, two yellow Labrador retrievers, and a cat, checked out reproductions but didn't like their feel. She preferred the heft of the old soakers. Through New England Demolition and Salvage in East Wareham, she found a massive Roman-style tub with feet resembling a lion's paws. She had the center-drain bath refinished and vintage-style faucets installed. The total cost, she figures, approached $4,000.

Housed in the turret, Kettler's bathroom faces east. In the distance, the hills of the Pamet Valley unfold. The tub, with its glossy white porcelain and deep bronze exterior, sits on white tiles and is complemented by a flesh-pink cement counter and sink.

"I have a girlfriend who said `It's your house Kim, put what you love in it,' " Kettler said. "It's the kind of thing people will remember your house by."

Boston patent attorney Eugene Feher found his dream tub online through vintage tub.com. The French double-ender, with its graceful lines and original burnished bronze color, exuded charm. The tub had come out of a hotel in Paris.

Feher rented a U-Haul truck and fetched the French tub as well as a deep, flat-rimmed, clawfoot refinished for him at vintage tub.com's headquarters in Hazleton, Pa. Both tubs have been installed in the 1830s clapboard house he and his partner, Ina Purvins, are renovating in Lancaster.

The French bath was in good shape, but the old clawfoot had to be reporcelained and had a broken, incomplete waste drain. Plus, two of its feet had to be replaced. Feher estimates he spent about $6,000 on both baths not including fixtures. Still, he doesn't mind the time and expense.

"I like the process of going to a salvage place and finding something that's interesting. You are less likely to get a cookie-cutter piece," the lawyer reflected. "There's a story behind it."

Hunting for a storied tub may be fun, but getting one to work can be an ordeal. Heirloom baths in good condition are hard to find. Many clawfoots were left to rust outside so the cast-iron exterior may need sandblasting. The porcelain enamel may be damaged from bleach or abrasive cleansers that scour away the shiny

finish. Many tubs are coated with lead paint, so know how to handle and dispose of the hazardous material before wire-brushing the exterior and stripping the legs. Do-it-yourself kits for refinishing baths are available, but industry sources say the job is best left to professionals.

Luckily, around Massachusetts, bathtub refinishers have either sprung up or survived over the years. Some prefer to do the work on-site to avoid damage in transport. Expect to pay at least $500 for a quality job and request a warranty.

Refinishing an old tub is messy, but fixing original bath hardware can be more difficult. Period faucets are notorious for having extra-fine threads. The washers often are gone or the brass seats shot. Replacement parts are rare. Some old parts can be remade, but most plumbers recommend installing reproduction fixtures.

My old Standard tub was a problem case. A pipe connecting the faucets and drain had worn out. A replacement part couldn't be found. My plumber wound up using a pipe threader salvaged from a scraped US Merchant marine ship to replicate the part.

The piece was installed and the Standard has functioned without a hitch since. It also moved with us to another Maine home. To install it, a bulky, built-in bath had to come out. A lobsterman, eager to soak after a long day hauling traps, agreed to extract it from the second story. In Keystone Cops-style, he and his buddies got the clunker out and down a steep flight of stairs.

These days fourth-generation family members are enjoying the Standard. While their bath is drawn, our 20-month-old twin daughters love tossing in their rubber ducks and anything else they can find. Their splashes and screams of delight echo through our home.