Roof Lantern Installation
Flat-roof glazing sized to the room and detailed into the kerb below it.
View this service →Suburban village core, interwar and modern estates. What that means for getting glass into a roof here is the whole of this page.
Flat-roof glazing sized to the room and detailed into the kerb below it.
View this service →Flush and kerb-mounted units into single-ply, felt and GRP flat roofs.
View this service →Roof windows trimmed into slate, clay and concrete tile without proud flashing.
View this service →We install VELUX alongside Fakro, Keylite and Roto roof windows.
View this service →Actuated opening units, rain sensors and controls, wired and commissioned.
View this service →Specified on U-value and g-value, not on the brochure photograph.
View this service →The lattice mast on the old research site is visible from most of Great Baddow, and it is a fair place to start. Stand under it and the village reads as one settlement on the edge of Chelmsford. Get closer and it is nothing of the sort. The core around St Mary the Virgin was put up when roofs were cut on site and covered in small clay tiles. The ribbon along Baddow Road and Galleywood Road went up between the wars. Meadgate and the closes behind it arrived from the middle sixties with roof structures made in a factory, and those behave very differently under a saw.
Sunspire puts rooflights into Great Baddow roofs and swaps out units that have come to the end of their working life, travelling from Chelmsford across a thirty mile road radius. What follows is a reading of the local roof stock and the choices each generation of it leaves open.
Great Baddow occupies a shoulder of higher ground. The land drops north and west towards the Chelmer and east towards Sandon, and that slope matters more to a roof job than it sounds. The old core sits in shelter. The newer edges, especially the plots looking out over open fields, take weather with nothing standing in front of them.
Exposure changes the detailing rather than the product on the order. A sheltered rear slope in the lee of the higher ground lets standard flashing behave. An open rear elevation catching south westerlies across the valley wants a taller upstand and its clamping bars checked harder at handover. Levels are the second consequence. A plot that steps down its garden often carries a rear addition sitting a storey below the main roof, and a scaffold there needs a level base and proper ties before anybody goes up it.
A conservation boundary wraps the church, its churchyard and the older frontages either side, and a number of individual buildings within it are listed in their own right. Anything cut into a slope that can be seen from the street inside that line is judged on whether it looks like it belongs to the building underneath it.
The unit that satisfies that test is a conservation pattern rooflight: a narrow cast frame, a bar running down the centre of the glass, and a fit that keeps the outer face level with the surrounding tiles instead of standing above them. Slopes hidden behind the ridge are frequently viewed with a lighter touch. That is a question to put to a planning officer at Chelmsford City Council before an order goes in, not an assumption to build a job on. The specification is set out at length on the conservation rooflight page.
Roofs on the oldest fabric in the village, the range around Baddow Hall and the cottages near the church included, are largely small format clay laid double lap by hand. Every tile touching an opening is cut and dressed individually.
The flashing set that suits that covering works with soakers slid up between the courses. It is a different component from the one a deep ribbed concrete tile takes, and the two are not interchangeable. Fit a deep profile apron onto flat clay and it bridges, leaving a void that driven rain will find inside two winters.
Old clay carries a second issue. Fixing nails give up with age, and where a roof was torched underneath with a lime and hair mix, that mix crumbles to dust. Lifting tiles anywhere near an opening is the moment both show themselves. Sound tiles come off, get stacked and go back on. The failed ones are set aside and matched from salvage rather than filled in with something modern that will read wrong for the next fifty years. That is slow, skilled handling, and it is why an opening in a clay roof carries a different labour figure from the identical unit dropped into a modern estate roof.
The houses lining the two main roads out of the village, and the streets hanging off them, went up in the twenties and thirties. Their roofs were assembled stick by stick on site: a ridge, purlins, common rafters roughly four hundred or six hundred apart, and a pitch usually in the mid thirties to mid forties.
Two things follow from that. The angle is steep enough that a roof window’s flashing does the job it was engineered around with no persuasion. And the void beneath has genuine height at the ridge, so daylight coming in reaches the floor rather than lighting a ceiling. Dropping two roof windows into a slope of that kind is about the least troublesome work available in this trade.
Everything that filled the fields behind the old village from about 1965 onwards, Meadgate and the closes around it included, sits under factory assembled trusses. They arrived on a lorry as finished triangles. The diagonal webs inside them are structural members: each one is either holding a length of timber in tension or pushing against another in compression.
Take out a web and the whole frame goes slack. The practical route is therefore to work in the gap the manufacturer already left. Between two trusses set six hundred apart, the clear opening comes out at around 550mm, which fixes the window size before anybody has opened a brochure. Going wider means an engineer designing a trimmer that carries load from the cut frames out into the ones either side, and that is a drawing and a calculation rather than a decision taken on the day.
Where somebody arrived wanting one broad opening, two slim units in separate bays usually reads better in the finished room. Light arriving at two points across a ceiling spreads more evenly than one bright block in the middle of it.
A ten minute walk from the church down to the Vineyards passes four different roof coverings, and each takes its own flashing set. The kit is picked from what is on the roof once the survey has been up there, not from what happens to be on the van.
| Covering | Where it turns up in the village | What the flashing set needs |
|---|---|---|
| Handmade and machine clay plain tile | The old core, Baddow Hall and the cottage rows | Soakers dressed between courses, tiles cut individually |
| Sand faced concrete tile | The interwar semis on both main roads | Shallow profile set, forgiving to dress |
| Deep ribbed interlocking tile | Meadgate and everything built after it | Deep profile set, or the apron bridges the troughs |
| Felt, GRP and single ply membrane | Rear additions, garages and link blocks | Membrane carried up the kerb and stopped under the frame |
There is a decent stock of chalet bungalows here, first floor rooms sitting inside the roof with the ceiling following the rafter line for part of its width. The room is already in the roof, so daylight has a short distance to travel and the gain from glazing shows up immediately.
Thickness is what catches people out. Once insulation has gone in between the rafters and again beneath them, the shaft running from glass down to ceiling can measure 250mm or more. Line that shaft with four square sides and sunlight drops through it as a hard block on the floor and does nothing else useful. Cut the lining back at an angle instead, wider at the ceiling than at the glass, and the same opening washes light sideways across the room and looks close to twice its actual size from underneath.
Most Baddow enquiries begin with a single storey addition at the back of the house. The decision that follows is whether the deck over it takes a roof lantern or a flat rooflight sitting level with the covering.
Span settles it far more often than preference does. Over a side return a couple of metres across, a lantern rising out of the deck crowds the space and the ceiling reads lower than it actually is. Level glass suits that shape. Over a rear addition running the full width of the house, four metres and upwards, the sloped bars of a lantern pull the eye up and give the room a direction it otherwise lacks. Above an island in a kitchen, that effect earns the beam work needed to hold it.
Level glazing lands on a kerb built up off the deck, with the waterproof covering carried up the outside of that kerb and stopped beneath the frame. The trade figure is 150mm, measured from the finished surface to the top of the kerb.
That number is two allowances stacked on each other. One for the depth of water that can sit on a deck before it drains away. One for how far rain will climb a vertical face with the wind behind it. On sheltered plots down in the old part of the village a manufacturer may warrant something lower where the falls are genuinely good. On the open ground facing Sandon and Galleywood, with nothing upwind to slow the weather, 150mm is a floor rather than a target, and shaving it so the glass sits flatter is a decision that returns in the third winter.
The unit is the small half of this work. What decides whether an opening is still dry in fifteen years is a set of details nobody can see once the job is finished: the height of the upstand, the fall of the surface running up to it, the laps in the flashing and the point at which the covering terminates. Get those right and almost any decent unit performs. Get one of them wrong and the best glass on the market will not save it.
That is the reasoning behind a ten year workmanship guarantee sitting alongside the manufacturer’s cover on the unit itself. The glass has its own warranty from the factory. The four details are ours.
A flat roof is laid to a fall. The design minimum is one in eighty, and that figure already builds in slack for a deck that deflects under load and for the tolerances of the people building it, so a finished surface ought to shed at that rate or better.
Water still lying two days after rain means the roof is ponding, and ponding held against the side of a kerb is what finds a tired lap or a weak termination. The village has plenty of candidates. Garages and link blocks were bolted onto interwar Baddow houses through the seventies, their joists have sagged in the four decades since, and the deck now holds a dish of standing water in the middle. Where a survey finds that, the order of work is falls first and glass afterwards. Setting a unit into a deck that does not drain only moves the difficulty to a place with a frame in it.
The old lanes run in no particular order and the estate closes curve, so rear elevations here point in every direction on the compass. Aspect drives the glass specification harder than the size of the opening does.
| Aspect | Daylight the room receives | Glass to specify |
|---|---|---|
| North, over the Chelmer valley | Steady and cool, no glare at any hour | Neutral glass, and the area can be generous |
| East, towards Sandon | Bright first thing, settled by lunchtime | Neutral, or a light solar coating |
| South, towards Galleywood | Heavy overhead load from May to September | Solar control glass, area held in check |
| West, towards the town | Low glare and heat building after four | Solar control, with a blind ordered at the same time |
Converting a loft works on the cut roofs of the two main roads and rarely on the trussed estates, for the structural reason above. Where one is going ahead, the glazing belongs on the drawing at the outset. Left to second fix it produces cables that were never run and openings landing in the wrong part of the slope.
One measurement carries most of the weight, and it is the height of the window head above the finished floor. A head at roughly two metres lets somebody standing beside it look out across the garden. A head at 1.6 metres gives the same person a bright ceiling and a view of cloud. On a shallow interwar slope that difference is decided by how far up the rafter the opening starts, which is a design question rather than a product one.
Once a converted Baddow loft is being used as a bedroom, one unit in the room normally has to serve as the way out in a fire, and that narrows which models can be specified.
The Regulations set a clear opening area, a minimum measurement in each direction, and a band of heights within which the sill has to sit above the finished floor so that somebody can actually reach it. The catch is the opening action rather than the frame size. A centre pivot sash rotates so half of it remains inside the aperture, which cuts the clear opening well below the dimensions printed on the label. A top hung sash swings out of the way and gives back nearly all of it. Two units that look identical from the garden can therefore give very different results, and the distinction is settled at the point of order. Where a top hung unit sits high in the slope, the cable for an electric opener wants running at first fix, when it costs almost nothing.
The usual starting ratio is glass at fifteen to twenty per cent of the floor area beneath it. On a rear elevation looking south across open ground, the top of that band is often too much.
Take an addition four metres by five. Twenty per cent of that floor is four square metres of glazing lying horizontal, facing the entire sky rather than one wall of it. At midday in July the energy arriving through it is considerable, and horizontal glass collects a good deal more of it than a vertical window of the same area ever would. Glass with a low g-value, meaning less of the sun’s heat passes through the pane, holds the room down through August at a small cost in December daylight. Add an opening unit at the highest point of the ceiling and the hot air that gathers up there leaves without a fan running. Where those two numbers meet is worked through on the energy efficient rooflights page.
The estate housing is kind to a scaffold crew. Meadgate and the sixties closes were set out with driveways, side gates and space at the boundary, so materials go round the outside of the house and the hallway stays clean.
The awkward addresses are in the old core. Cottage rows near the church and the top of the High Street can have no side route at all, leaving the front door or an alley shared with a neighbour as the only way through to the back. There are also plots stepping down towards the lower ground, where a tower needs extra lifts and a levelled base before anything else begins. All of it is written down at survey and carried into the fixed figure, rather than appearing as a surprise on the morning the lorry pulls up.
Cutting a new opening into a roof, or taking out an old unit and setting a current one in its place, has to be notified under the Building Regulations. Three parts apply in practice. Part L covers how much heat the glazing loses. Part K applies anywhere somebody could fall through or against it. Part B applies where the unit is the way out of a room in the roof. Great Baddow sits with Chelmsford City Council for both Building Control and planning.
Sunspire deals with the notification as part of the work, and the completion paperwork goes to the homeowner at the end of it. That matters more than it sounds. Unnotified alterations tend to surface at the point of sale, years later, when a buyer’s solicitor asks for a certificate nobody ever applied for and the transaction stalls while someone chases a regularisation. Planning consent is a separate question. Outside the conservation boundary a rooflight on a Baddow house normally falls within permitted development, provided the unit stands no more than 150mm above the existing roof plane.
A survey is what turns an emailed range into a fixed written figure, so it records everything capable of moving the number. The covering and how much life is left in it. The pitch, taken with a level rather than guessed from the pavement. What is holding the roof up, seen from inside the void with a torch. Where the ceiling line sits in relation to the rafters. Aspect. And the route materials take going up and waste takes coming down.
The finds that recur in this village are worth naming in advance. A trussed roof on a house that looks interwar from the road, because a later estate borrowed the same style of frontage. A bathroom fan discharging into the roof void instead of out through the covering, quietly wetting timber above the ceiling for years. And a flat roofed addition from the mid seventies laid dead level by whoever built it. Each of those is far cheaper to know about before a figure is agreed than after the covering comes off.
Timings hold reasonably well by job type. A roof window into a tiled Baddow slope is a single day. A level unit into an existing flat deck runs one day to two. A lantern that needs the ceiling opened up structurally takes two to four, and the spread depends mostly on whether a steel goes in.
The order of work rarely changes. Sheet and cover the room underneath. Take the covering back to expose the structure. Form the hole and trim the timber around it. Build or prepare the kerb on a flat deck, or set the flashing tray on a pitched slope. Land the unit and weather it in. Make the covering good right around the perimeter. Line and finish the reveal from inside. Whatever the forecast is doing, the roof is closed and watertight before the crew leaves each evening.
Three things produce a useful range by email. A photograph of the roof taken from the garden, a photograph of the ceiling from the room below, and a rough floor size for that room. Most Baddow addresses can be placed inside a range on those alone, and the survey afterwards turns the range into one number.
If the plan is still forming, look at the roof before the product. Establish the covering, the pitch, the direction the slope faces and what is carrying it. Those four answers cut the choice down to a handful of units and make every conversation after them shorter. Great Baddow sits alongside neighbouring Galleywood, Sandon and Danbury on the areas we cover page, and the costs guide sets out what moves a job between the emailed range and the written price.
We start with the building, the covering and the slope. Then we tell you what will suit it, and what it will cost, as a fixed written number.
Fill in what you can. It opens WhatsApp with the message ready to send.