When Our RV Water Heater Started Betraying Us
The first cold blast hit us on a Tuesday morning outside Amarillo. We were three days into a two-week trip, and the shower went from warm to ice-cold in the middle of rinsing shampoo. We thought it was a fluke. Maybe we had run the tank dry. Maybe the propane was low. We gave it twenty minutes, tried again, and got another five minutes of lukewarm water before it quit entirely.
That was the moment we should have known.
But we kept going. We adjusted our shower schedules. We heated water on the stove for dishes. We told ourselves it was fine, that we would deal with it when we got back to Florida. Then the leak started. A few drops under the rig at first, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. By the time we pulled into a campground in New Mexico, there was a puddle the size of a dinner plate every morning.
Our Suburban tank heater was over twelve years old. We had been full-timing since 2018, and this thing had been with us since before we bought the rig. It had survived desert heat, mountain cold, and more hard water than we care to remember. But age catches up with everything, and we had ignored the warning signs for months.
When we finally pulled the unit out, the anode rod was gone. Not corroded. Gone. Dissolved into nothing, leaving the tank exposed to rust and mineral buildup. The heating element looked like it had been dipped in concrete. And the pressure relief valve was weeping constantly, which explained the puddle. We had pushed it too far, and now we were staring at an RV water heater replacement whether we were ready or not. Looking back, we should have started researching our options months earlier, but like most full-timers, we convinced ourselves we could squeeze another season out of the old unit. If you find yourself in a similar situation and need to troubleshoot other RV systems, check out our RV maintenance guides for more hands-on advice from the road.
Why We Ditched the Tank (And Why You Might Not Have To)
We spent two weeks convinced we were going tankless. The idea of endless hot water sounded perfect. No more timing showers. No more waiting twenty minutes for the tank to reheat after someone washed dishes. We watched YouTube videos, read forum threads, and talked to other RVers who swore by their Girard or Suburban tankless units.
Then we talked to a couple in Quartzsite who had ripped theirs out.
They told us about the cold water blasts every time they turned the faucet off and back on during a shower. The way the burner would cycle off if the flow rate dropped too low, leaving them standing there wet and freezing while it reignited. The annual descaling maintenance that required buying aftermarket valves, a pump, and a five-gallon bucket setup that cost them nearly three hundred bucks. They had gone back to a twelve-gallon Suburban tank and never looked back.
That conversation changed our mind. We do not take long showers. We do not run the washing machine and the shower at the same time. What we need is reliability, not endless capacity. We also realized that our RV water heater replacement decision needed to factor in our actual usage patterns, not the theoretical benefits of endless hot water. So we stuck with a tank. And the first time we fired up the dual-fuel mode—gas and electric running together—and had scalding hot water in under five minutes, we knew we had made the right call.
The Two Water Heaters We Actually Recommend (And Why Everything Else Fell Short)
We went with the Suburban SW12DEL, and it has been bulletproof. Twelve gallons, dual fuel, and a recovery time that makes our old six-gallon unit look like a joke. The first time we used it, we ran two back-to-back showers and still had hot water left for dishes. It cost us around six hundred dollars for the unit itself, and we installed it ourselves in an afternoon. The dual-fuel capability turned out to be a game-changer—when we are plugged into shore power at a campground, we can run both the electric element and the propane burner simultaneously, cutting our heat-up time in half.
The thing that sold us was the simplicity. No mixing valves to clog. No recirculation pumps to crack. No ignition system that requires a certified technician to troubleshoot. It is a tank with a burner and an element, and when something goes wrong, we can fix it with basic tools and a trip to the hardware store. We have been running it for eight months now, through a summer in the Arizona desert and a winter in the Smokies, and it has not missed a beat.
The other option we seriously considered was the Truma AquaGo. If we had the budget and did not care about DIY repairs, we would have bought it. Truma builds the best tankless unit on the market, and everyone we know who has one loves it. The German engineering shows—the build quality is exceptional, the temperature control is precise, and the unit is compact enough to fit in spaces where traditional tank heaters cannot go. But it costs twelve hundred dollars for the unit alone, and you have to pay a certified Truma technician to install it or you void the warranty. That is another four hours of labor at shop rates, which puts the total cost somewhere north of two thousand dollars. For us, that was a dealbreaker.
We looked at the Girard GSWH-2, the Fogatti units, and a handful of other tankless models in the six-hundred-dollar range. They all had the same problem: mixed reviews about temperature consistency and cold water bursts. Some people love them. Some people rip them out after six months. We were not interested in rolling the dice. The Suburban IW60 tankless got better reviews, but it still requires the descaling setup and does not deliver instant hot water the way people think it will.
Everything else we dismissed outright. The Suburban IW60RL recirculation model has a failure rate so high that Alpine fifth wheel owners are swapping them out before they even leave the lot. The Atwood XT has a mixing valve that clogs with sediment and a burner orifice that spiders love to nest in.
What Our DIY RV Water Heater Replacement Taught Us (And What It Actually Cost)
We pulled the old unit on a Saturday morning in our driveway. The hardest part was not the water lines or the gas connection—it was getting the screws out of the exterior panel. Twelve years of Florida humidity had rusted them solid, and we ended up drilling two of them out. Once the panel was off, the rest was straightforward. Shut off the water pump, drain the tank, disconnect the cold and hot lines, unhook the propane, and pull the unit out through the exterior opening.
The new Suburban slid right in. Same footprint, same mounting holes, same connections. We used brand new stainless braided hoses for the water lines and replaced the propane flex line while we were at it. The electrical connection was a simple plug. The only modification we had to make was extending the exterior cover by an inch using a piece of stainless steel sheet metal we picked up at Home Depot. We also took the opportunity to add a layer of high-temperature foam insulation around the tank, which makes a noticeable difference in heat retention during cold weather camping.
Total cost: six hundred dollars for the heater, forty dollars for hoses and fittings, fifteen dollars for the sheet metal, another twenty dollars for the foam insulation, and about four hours of our time. If we had paid a mobile RV tech to do it, we would have been looking at another three to four hundred dollars in labor. The only moment we almost called someone was when we could not get the gas line to stop weeping at the connection. Turns out we had cross-threaded it. We backed it out, cleaned the threads, applied fresh pipe dope, and it sealed perfectly.
The one tool we did not expect to need was a wire brush. The mounting surface on the rig was caked with old sealant and grime, and we had to scrape it clean before the new unit would sit flush. We also learned that you should fire up the heater and check for leaks before you button up the exterior panel. We found a slow drip at the pressure relief valve that we fixed by tightening it a quarter turn. If we had closed everything up first, we would have had to tear it all apart again.
The Maintenance Habits That Keep Our New Heater Alive
Every spring, we pull the anode rod. It takes ten minutes, and it is the single most important thing you can do to extend the life of a tank heater. The rod sacrifices itself to protect the tank from corrosion, and if you let it dissolve completely, the tank starts rusting from the inside out. Ours was half-gone after eight months, which told us the water in the campgrounds we stay at is brutal. We now keep a spare anode rod in our parts bin at all times. The rod costs about fifteen dollars and can add years to the life of your tank.
We also flush the tank twice a year. Not with chemicals, fresh water run through the drain plug until it comes out clear. The amount of sediment that comes out is disgusting. We learned this the hard way when we ignored it for the first six months and noticed the hot water started smelling like sulfur. One flush fixed it. Now we do it religiously every six months, and we have noticed that our water stays cleaner and the tank heats faster.
The weird sign that told us something was wrong before it broke was the burner taking multiple tries to light. That was the igniter starting to fail, and we caught it early enough to replace it before we were stuck without hot water in the middle of nowhere. Now we listen for that click and whoosh every time we fire it up, and if it hesitates, we know to check the igniter and the burner orifice for spider webs. We also learned to inspect the burner chamber at least once a year, because spiders, wasps, and even mice will nest in there if you give them the chance.
Another maintenance habit we adopted is checking the pressure relief valve every few months. We lift the lever to make sure it opens freely and releases water, which prevents it from seizing up. A stuck pressure relief valve is a safety hazard—if the tank overheats and the valve does not open, you could end up with a dangerous pressure buildup. We also keep an eye on the exterior vent for any signs of soot or discoloration, which would indicate incomplete combustion or a ventilation problem.
Before You Buy, Know This One Thing
Measure your existing water heater before you shop. Not the exterior dimensions—measure the cutout in the side of your rig, the depth of the compartment, and the location of the gas and water connections. We have heard horror stories of people ordering a replacement water heater for RV only to find out it does not fit because the mounting holes are two inches off or the gas line comes in from the wrong side. Most RV water heaters are interchangeable within the same brand, but not all of them. The Suburban we bought dropped right into the space our old Suburban left behind, but if we had tried to swap in an Atwood or a Dometic, we would have been cutting sheet metal and rerouting lines.
Take a photo of your current setup with your phone. Measure everything. Write it down. Check the model number on your existing unit and look up the specifications online to confirm the mounting pattern and connection locations. The ten minutes you spend measuring will save you from returning a four-hundred-dollar unit that does not fit. We also recommend joining an RV forum or Facebook group specific to your rig model—other owners have often documented their experiences and can tell you exactly which models are direct replacements and which require modifications.
One more thing we wish someone had told us: consider buying from a retailer with a good return policy, not the cheapest price online. We ordered ours from a major RV parts supplier that offered free returns within thirty days, which gave us peace of mind that if the unit did not fit or had a defect, we were not stuck with it.
