A 20ft container holds a three-bedroom house — if it's packed like the pros do it. Here's the method.
Packing a container badly costs you twice: broken gear at the far end, and wasted space that might have forced a second container. The professional method isn't complicated — it's just deliberate.
Sweep the floor bone dry, then lay a moisture barrier — builder's plastic or even flattened cartons. Containers are sealed steel boxes; the enemy isn't rain getting in, it's the moisture in your own furniture condensing on cold steel ("container rain"). A couple of dozen desiccant packs (or a tub of damp-rid per end) cheaply insures against a musty arrival.
Heavy low, light high, weight spread evenly along the floor. Washing machines, toolboxes and book cartons form the bottom layer, distributed front-to-back rather than piled at one end — an unbalanced container is a problem on the truck.
Build vertical walls, not piles. Pack in tight vertical tiers from floor to ceiling, working from the closed end toward the doors, and rope off each completed tier to the lashing points along the walls. Each tier braces the one behind it.
Mattresses and couches travel on edge against the walls, where they protect themselves and everything beside them. Wrap them — steel walls sweat.
Fill every void. Gaps are where damage happens: stuff soft items — linen bags, cushions, doonas — into every hole. A tightly packed container arrives intact; a loose one arrives shaken.
The last metre before the doors is prime real estate: the vacuum, the kettle box, tools for reassembling beds, and anything you'll want first at the other end. Rope the final tier off properly — it's the one that greets you (or falls on you) when the doors open.
Short move with defined dates: hire. Move with an open-ended timeline — building, renovating, storing between houses: buying a used unit often works out cheaper, and you can sell it afterwards. We do both, and we'll give you the straight arithmetic on 0418 179 002.
One call, one delivered number, seven days a week.