How I Revived My Dishwasher With My Smartphone

It happened at the end of August. After nine years of good and loyal service, the dishwasher I inherited from my very first shared apartment gave up on me. Bought for €300 in September 2015, the small Boulanger machine followed me through a move, two breakups and three job changes before letting out its final “brrrrr”.

Determined not to let her die without a fight, I call a technician from Solvarea/Boulanger who diagnoses a drain pump failure. In the process, I receive a quote well above the fateful “33% threshold” beyond which we no longer repair our devices. Not allergic to washing dishes by hand, I did not want to throw away a machine of this type because of a single broken part. You don't throw away your car because a tire is flat! So I decided to repair the beast myself.

Find the part

I then started looking for the aforementioned part. The dishwasher was old, entry-level and already had a parts availability guarantee of only five years when I bought it. However, I found what I was looking for! Armed with the exact reference of my model, I did some research and came across the website of Sparekawho certifies to me that the listed model is “100% compatible” with my dishwasher. I'll try.

When paying, the site offers me a video support appointment for exactly €0 extra. The repair bonus having recently been extended to remote repair actsthe platform can afford to offer “free” appointments to those who want to get their hands dirty (well, in dirty water in the case that interests us).

Once the order is placed, Spareka asks me to choose a date and time for an appointment within the next 15 days. The company uses around fifty freelance technicians to ensure its appointments, so there are plenty of slots (every 10 minutes from 8am to 10pm approximately). In three clicks, the appointment is made, the order validated and my drain pump is on its way.

Hands in the grease

Once the package is collected, I patiently wait for the fateful date. Between the reservation and the appointment, many emails and text messages explain to me how the appointment will take place, what tools I will need and how to contact the assigned technician. A platform with a somewhat spartan design even allows me to communicate with the latter and complete my file with the information relevant to the repair (photos of the device, serial number, etc.).

On D-Day, I disconnect my machine from the plumbing circuit in advance and install it in the middle of the kitchen, belly in the air. I then connect from my phone to the Spareka video platform and wait patiently for the technician to arrive. No need to download an application, enter a secret code or anything: a simple web page accessible from any browser authorizes the contact. A good thing for those who do not always have the space to install additional apps on their phone. The experience is basic (with a button to switch between the front and rear photo module, one to mute the microphone and the camera, one to hang up), but sufficient.

On the dot, Corentin, the technician assigned to me, logs in. After introducing ourselves, we get down to the repair. As a preamble, he explains to me how the different parts of my dishwasher work. The communication is clear, the explanations precise, and learning a little more about how his machine works is very appreciable. Juggling the phone in one hand while inspecting the insides of the appliance isn't always easy, especially when it comes to showing certain elements on the screen. But since the machine isn't terribly complex or miniaturized, we get by.

Virtually placed on a homemade phone holder made of doorstops and Patafix, Corentin shows me where the part to change is and explains the disassembly process step by step. One by one, I remove the cables holding the pump in place then, with a simple quarter turn, I dismantle the defective part, making room for the new one. The moment would have been devilishly satisfying if the operation had not ultimately turned out to be as simple as anything. A few keyboard clicks later, Corentin shows me how to reassemble the new part. Quarter turn, cable, cable (in the right order): and there you have it, the part is changed!

A well-deserved second life

Slightly incredulous, I ask the technician if that's all there is to do and he assures me that it is with a smile. With the file filled out on his side, Corentin then asks me to do a test and offers to call me back 1 hour later to make sure everything is fine. A few contortions later, the machine is reconnected to the circuit and the soft sound of the drain pump is immediately heard. After a quick cycle, no leaks or implosions of the machine to report. That's it, my little dishwasher has just gained a few more years of life.

I send Corentin a few videos of the different noises of the appliance via the chat platform integrated into Spareka, then he calls me back to make sure that there is no abnormal behavior to report. He informs me that the part is guaranteed for three months and tells me that if problems arise later, it will then be possible to make another appointment to diagnose them. A summary email summarizes all this for me and congratulates me on having successfully completed my repair. Too busy savoring the victory of my two little hands over the announced obsolescence of my dishwasher, I absent-mindedly archive it.

The result: a hundred euros saved and the incalculable satisfaction of having learned a little more about how a device that belongs to me works and having saved the planet additional kilos of electrical waste.

Impressions and conclusion

Skeptical about how video repair works (anyone who has ever tried to remotely help someone with a problem on their computer will know why), I must admit that I came away very pleasantly surprised by the experience. Having already put my hands in the guts of the machine previously (we don't hold the Tech + sustainable section of Digital for six months without adopting a few reflexes), I was resolutely confident in my DIY abilities, but the support of an expert gave me the confidence boost necessary to embark on the adventure.

The only minor black spots are more minor technical issues. The Spareka file management platform is somewhat austere, sending attachments is not exactly easy (I had to resort to using a WeTransfer link for the videos mentioned above), and the number of text messages and emails (about eight each) surrounding the order and the video appointment are slightly excessive. Beyond these somewhat minor issues, the experience is frankly more fluid and efficient than I would have thought.

Much less complicated than one might think, the operation of our household appliances is not so obscure, provided that one knows how to hold a screwdriver and is well supported. Even people who are not very handy would, I would bet, have succeeded in the operation with flying colors. You still have to want to embark on the adventure, and it is undoubtedly this lever that still limits the use of remote repair the most. The savings made compared to an intervention at home or the potential purchase of a machine are nevertheless substantial enough to be convincing.