Railway signalling: Deepfields

Larger version of diagram

Deepfields was one of the Stour Valley signal boxes I worked unofficially in the 1960s. Bloomfield Junction was the next box towards Birmingham (left of diagram), Spring Vale Sidings the next box in the Wolverhampton direction (right of box diagram). It was a standard ex-L.N.W. box with a brick base. At that time, Deepfields box was only open during the day and "switched out" at night.

On the up side of the line at Sprng Vale lay a steelworks usually referred to as 'Stewarts and Lloyds'. This complex extended along the line almost to Deepfields and gave rise to varied railway traffic in and out. The 'third line' on the Spring Vale side of Deepfields was an up and down permissive block goods line. 'Permissive' meant that a second, or subsequent, goods train could be admitted onto the occupied line. The 'fourth line' on the Spring Vale side gave access to a fan of sidings which extended to Spring Vale. There was no block signalling on these sidings and the connection at the Deepfields end was very rarely used.

Most of the running signals were upper quadrant semaphores but the Up Starter (lever 39) was a multiple-aspect colour light. Deepfields cleared it from red to yellow and then Bloomfield Junction cleared the signal from yellow to green as his distant signal. Occupation and clearance of the track circuit in the rear of the signal automatically put the signal back to 'Red', even with the lever still reverse in the frame. Similarly, Bloomfield's Down Starter had been replaced by a colour light so Deepfields' Down Distant lever 1 changed Bloomfield's colour light from yellow to green.

The lever sequence for trains on the Up Main was 40, 39 and 41 and finally 42. The top six inches of lever 39 had been removed, as a reminder to signalmen not to take a swing at it, because the only action of this lever was to work an electrical contact box under the floor. In contrast, the inner distant lever 41 and outer distant lever 42 needed a good pull to get the weight bars "off".

The lever sequence for trains on the down line was 2, 3, 4 and 1. Lever 1 was shortened, being the colour light.

The block shelf mounted two Fletcher's 'DN' absolute block instruments of ex-L.N.W. pattern, plus a third special block instrument for the permissive bi-directional up and down goods line. Although this instrument had two block indicator needles, only one could be used at a time, according to whether the train was 'coming' or 'going'. In addition, the commutator which allowed the block to be set at 'LINE CLEAR', 'TRAIN ON LINE' or, when not in use, 'LINE CLOSED' also included a mechanical reminder device which displayed the total number of trains in the section in a small window.

There were lots of points of interest in both the layout and operation at Deepfields and you can read more at 'Deepfields in Detail'.

Railway signalling: Bloomfield Junction

Larger version of diagram

Bloomfield Junction is another of the boxes I worked regularly under supervision in the 1960s. It was on the Stour Valley, with Deepfields the next box towards Wolverhampton (left of diagram), Tipton the next box in the Birmingham direction (right of box diagram) and Tipton Curve Junction the next box on the branch (top right of the diagram). It was a very tall ex-L.N.W. box with a two-storey brick base. The height was because the Great Western line from Priestfield Junction to Dudley crossed over the Stour Valley line just on the Birmingham side of the box. The extra height meant that the signalman was given a good view of the double-track junction he controlled.

At that time, Deepfields box closed at night and the block section then extended to Spring Vale Sidings box. On the branch, with only a freight service, Tipton Curve Junction was only open as required. When this box was closed, trains could run off and onto the branch at Tipton but every train for Deepfields direction required the Porter-Signalman to walk from Tipton to Tipton Curve to open the box. This arrangement, as the name implies, meant that most of the shift was taken up with porter's duties at Tipton Owen Street station, with brief sorties to Tipton Curve Junction box when necessary. There was often a lady on this duty.

In addition to controlling access to the branch, there were both up and down sidings. The South Staffordshire Wagon company on the up side generated a reasonable traffic in wagon repairs. On the down side, the canal wharves had originally been served from the former Great Western line but, by the time I was there, the extensive sidings were served via a connection from our Number 2 Down Siding. Various freight trip workings were booked to call and shunt Bloomfield as required. I remember T312 and T208 (the Tipton Shunt) particularly.

Most of the running signals were upper quadrant semaphores. However, the down starter (lever 42) was a multiple-aspect colour light. We cleared it from red to yellow and then Deepfields cleared the signal from yellow to green as his distant signal. Occupation and clearance of the track circuit in the rear of the signal automatically put the signal back to 'Red', even with the lever still reverse in the frame. Similarly, Deepfields' Up Starter had been replaced by a colour light. In this case our Up Distant lever 1 changed Deepfields' colour light from yellow to green.

The lever sequence for trains on the Up Main was 2, 3 and finally 1. The top six inches of lever 1 had been removed, as a reminder to signalmen not to take a swing at it, because the only action of this lever was to work an electrical contact box under the floor. The lever sequence for normal down trains was 44, 42, 45 and 46. Lever 42 was shortened, being the colour light. Levers 45 and 46 worked weight bars some distance away and practice was needed to make the electrical repeaters move to the 'OFF' position. Too often, the repeaters would hang in the 'WRONG' position, meaning that the distant signal was imperfectly shown, merely "cocked" rather than pointing up through 45 degrees.

The block shelf running the length of the lever frame at shoulder height carried three absolute block instruments of ex-L.N.W. 'Fletcher's Double Needle' pattern. This old-fashioned design combined the block indicator for the section ahead (controlled from the box in advance), the block indicator for the section in rear on the opposite line, our switch (or commutator) for setting the block indicator and the single-stroke bell with 'tapper'. Many railways used three units - "non-pegging" indicator, "pegging" indicator and bell but the L.N.W., with economy and elegance, had integrated them from an early date. In large boxes with a number of block instruments, the Fletcher 'DN' reduced the 'clutter' on the block shelf. Bloomfield had just three block instruments, communicating with Deepfields, Tipton Curve and Tipton boxes. The gongs of the single-stroke bells were all a different size, so as to produce different tones. A signalman could recognise which box was calling from a single 'Call Attention' beat.

I spent many happy times working this box and watching the trains go by. Even as the engineering work started to electrify the line, I could not imagine how completely a way of life would shortly be swept away.

Railway Signalling: Watery Lane

Larger version of diagram

In the late 1950s, I was a frequent vistor at Watery Lane signal box on the Stour Valley Line from Birmingham to Wolverhampron. Mond Gas Company's Siding was the next box towards Birmingham (left of diagram). However, this box was only open as required, so more usually the block section was Watery Lane to Dudleyport. In the Wolverhampton direction (right of diagram), Tipton was the next box. On the Birmingham side of the box, there were four lines, Up Goods, Up Main, Down Main, Down Goods. At Watery Lane, these four lines converged into two.

On the Tipton side of the box, Watery Lane controlled access to sidings on both the down side and up side. The up sidings remained busy well into the 1960's. A large, electric overhead travelling crane was provided over part of the sidings for loading and unloading and the yard enjoyed the services of a resident shunting locomotive, diagram T206. This was usually a Drewry 206 h.p. diesel mechanical shunter but occasionally a 350 h.p. diesel electric shunter was rostered. This shunter, in addition to making up wagons to be collected by the various steam-hauled pick-up freights which called during the day and positioning arriving wagons for loading or unloading, would also make the occasional foray to Bloomfield Junction or the Tip Siding at Tipton Curve. After a week of this duty, the shunter would go back to the motive power depot for refuelling and servicing, to either return or be replaced by a similar locomotive.

Watery Lane was an L.M.S. built 'A.R.P'. box, brick-built with a massive flat concrete roof, designed to be more resistant to bombing than conventional boxes. It had an L.M.S. standard lever frame on the side away from the track. These frames stood about 18 inches above the floor and all the interlocking was contained in flat trays protruding to the rear of the frame. The design was significantly more compact than the massive L.N.W. frames and was based on the standard Midland Railway frame.

The block shelf mounted two Fletcher's 'DN' absolute block instruments of ex-L.N.W. pattern for the main lines. The left one communicated with Mond Gas Company's Siding box or, when this box was switched out, Dudleyport. The right hand block instrument communicated with Tipton box. A third instrument on the far left controlled the Up and Down Goods Lines. This was a Fletcher's 'DN' permissive block instrument with a mechanical reminder device to show the current number of trains on the Down Goods Line in a small window. By the time I was a visitor, it was unusual for this reminder to even reach a count of '2'!

The next box at Tipton was permanently manned because it controlled the level crossing gates in Owen Street which were normally open for road traffic and had to be 'swung' for each train. Watery Lane also had a level crossing but, in this case, the gates were normally open for rail traffic. It was just as well that the gates rarely had to be opened for road traffic because there were four heavy gates controlled from a 'ships wheel', requiring considerable effort to wind them across. The level crossing also had a two of 'wicket' gates for pedestrians These gates were normally left unlocked and were in frequent use. Each gate was controlled by a brown lever in the frame. As each train approached, pulling the brown lever reverse in the frame would close the wicket (if it had been left open) and lock it shut. Having locked the wickets, it was common to hear shouting from below as an impatient pedestrian argued to be let across to avoid the delay. The problem, if the signalman took pity on the pedestrian, was that other pedestrians would rush to get through the gate as well. Even worse, opening the wicket on the other side of the crossing to let a pedestrian out would allow others to start crossing in the opposite direction. It could be stressful for the signalman!

We're sure to return here!

Working in Holland

When I was establishing my firm, some of my friends had jobs where they always seemed to be jetting off around the world and, I admit, I was occasionally envious. When, infrequently, I flew somewhere, I was always filled with great excitement and I wondered what it would be like to become blase with the process. In the 1980s, I had an opportunity to become a 'frequent flier' when the multinational giant, Philips, invited me to provide technical and training assistance on their initiative to secure railway telecommunications work. This initiative was based on their cable company in Holland.

This company had long-established facilities for making all types of complex copper telecommunications cables but heavy investment in optical fibre research had also make them one of the world leaders in this emerging technology. Nowadays, of course, optical transmission is everywhere, relied upon by computer networks, the internet, cable television and telephony. Back then, you got the sense of being at the 'leading edge'. I tried to help them with understanding the rather curious requirements of railway telecommunications systems and finding ways of adapting their existing products to be able to put together a well-engineered package. My firm had other commitments, of course, so I promised two days a week in Holland.

It worked like this. Every Tuesday, I was up early and my partner drove me to East Midlands Airport where I would check-in for the one hour flight by F27 turbo-prop to Schipol. A walk would take me to the railway station to catch a train to Utrecht. Here I'd change for a second train to Alphen-am-der-Rhein. Here I caught a local train, alighting at my destination, Waddinxveen. A walk of about a mile brought me to the offices where I arrived around 10.30 a.m. I'd work all day, stay late to make up for my late arrival, then walk to the station, catch a train and walk to my hotel. Next morning, I'd be in the office early, work all day then return to Schipol (three trains, again) and catch the evening flight back to East Midlands Airport, where my partner would meet me. I kept this up for 28 weeks and loved every minute of it, but I was a lot younger then! The experience didn't succeed in making me bored with air travel and I still sit glued to the window as if it's my first flight!

I met some wonderful people working in Holland and had some great times. One day, I'll tell you more.

Lionsmeet 2001

The 'Lion' supporters group, the Old Locomotive Committee (or, more simply, OLCO), holds a competition for live-steam models of 'Lion' every year. This report originally appeared in the Old Locomotive Committee newsletter 'Lionsheart'.

Lionsmeet 2001 was held at the home of Leyland SME in Worden Park, Leyland, near Preston. Leyland SME was originally Preston SME, re-christened when they re-located to their present home. Lionsmeet used the multi-gauge raised track arranged in the form of a folded dumbell continuous track. There is also a ground level track which extends across the parkland. Ultimately, it is intended that the ground level track will extend to the main gate of the park. The raised track is situated in a fenced-off, wooded area and is well-appointed with clubhouse, carriage sheds and workshop. Running is anti-clockwise, with automatic colour light signals in the vicinity of the clubhouse. Adjacent to the clubhouse, there is a multi-track traverser giving access to the continuous track from the various sidings and steaming bays. The steaming bays radiate from a splendid turntable which goes up and down, as well as round and round, to allow the steaming bays themselves to be at a more convenient height for preparation and disposal. These splendid facilities were complemented by a particularly warm welcome from the host club members and splendid catering facilities to ensure a successful event before any locomotive even turned a wheel!

During the morning, there was the usual practice running of the various models. Any ‘Lion’ is always attractive to watch, with the outside flycranks and coupling rods in view and we were treated to some fine running and high speeds. David Neish’s massive tank locomotive ‘Bessborough’ (not in steam on that day) was on display on one of the sidings and was universally admired for its fine workmanship. I imagined that this handsome locomotive surveyed the proceedings with some disdain as the diminuitive ‘Lion’ models rushed around the track. Practice running was followed by the serious business of lunch and then John Hawley summoned the competitors to prepare their locomotives to compete for the Mike Parrott Memorial Cup.

I’d accepted the role of Observer, not realising that the weather was going to deteriorate during the contest. However, since I always tell people "Anyone can work on an engine in good weather; it takes a railwayman to work in bad", I refrained from complaining too much.

Leyland SME had hosted IMLEC 2000, so we were following in illustrious footsteps. The start and finish for IMLEC 2000 had been the passenger station some distance from the clubhouse on level track, followed by a stretch of 1 in 250 down. Lionsmeet runs started adjacent to the clubhouse, then over the traverser followed by a left-hand curve, initially on the level then at 1 in 200 uphill. After turning through around 270 degrees, there is a gentle right-hand curve on the level where speed can be built up before tackling an adverse 1 in 100 on a tightening right-hander. There’s then a long, fast level, before entering another 270 degree left-hander, much of it rising at 1 in 250. The straight, level section through the station could be taken at speed before the final, descending left-hander at 1 in 250. The circuit is completed by a short, level section and then 1 in 125 down to the clubhouse. The starting point for Lionsmeet was to prove significant, as all competitors had some problems making a clean start on the left-hand curve with the adverse grade, particularly as the rain became heavier.

First to go was last year’s winner, Alan Bibby, competing on his home track and with a shrewdly-judged load of 3 adults and one child. On the uphill sections, Alan was developing a drawbar pull of about 20 pounds, producing speeds around 5 m.p.h. On the easier sections, around 10 pounds pull gave speeds varying from 8 to 9.5 m.p.h. In the allowed ten minutes, Alan completed four laps with his chosen load, giving the remaining competitors a hard target to beat.

Jon Swindlehurst went next and his Lion, worked hard, developed around 20 pounds pull and 5 m.p.h. uphill and a maximum of 8.5 m.p.h. elsewhere. The standard technique for taking on water on the move was for a ‘water boy’ to pass a plastic water container to the driver as he passed. On his third lap, Jon was unfortunate enough to ‘drop the catch’ on the first attempt. Priming started to affect the running on the fourth lap and the time ran out before the lap could be completed, leaving Jon with a very respectable work done figure.

Our new friend Don Howe then set off, initially with three adults, but the wet conditions on the railhead produced some slipping at the start. Don decided to reduce the load to two adults (as allowed by the rules) and got the train away. Maximum drawbar pull indicated was around 10 pounds, giving a speed of about 4 m.p.h. uphill and up to 7.5 m.p.h. elsewhere. On his second lap, as conditions worsened, slipping re-appeared and the locomotive stalled on a curved, rising grade. After a number of attempts to re-start Don decided to retire. We were all disappointed, particularly as Don had delighted us with some spirited practice running during the morning session.

Finally, as conditions became even worse, David Neish set off. To stand a chance of equalling Alan Bibby’s performance, the load was initially two adults and two children. This caused significant problems in getting the train away. Driving in such conditions is a mixture of understanding the way in which water lubricates the rail-wheel interface, reducing the maximum torque which can be applied without slippage, and skill in being able to produce that torque without slipping in order to overcome the rolling resistance of the load. David made a slow start and stalled a number of times. Even after reducing the load, it proved difficult to keep going. Maximum speed was 6.5 m.p.h. but curvature and adverse gradients induced further stalls. David tried setting back to get more favourable conditions for starting but, by this time, rain was dripping from the trees and onto the rails. Despite skilful efforts from David, he was unable to satisfactorily restart before the time ran out.

And so, Alan Bibby retained the trophy for a second year, after a fascinating demonstration of determination and expertise from all our competitors.

Railway signalling: Dudleyport

Click here for a larger version of the diagram

Back in the 1960s, Dudleyport was the largest of the boxes on the Stour Valley that I got to work. The mechanical box was situated on a double track main line using Absolute Block signalling. The next box to the left (the Birmingham direction) was Albion. The next box to the right was Mond Gas Company's Sidings, which was usually 'switched out' (closed), making the block section Dudleyport to Watery Lane. Between Dudleyport and Watery Lane there were also two additional goods line, paired by direction. The goods lines used Permissive Block signalling whereby a second (or subsequent) train could be allowed into an occupied section. The line diverging top right joined the South Stafford Line at Sedgley Junction, giving access to Dudley. This was also Absolute Block.

When the Stour Valley Line was constructed, it lay a few miles away from the important town of Dudley, so the branch was constructed to get passengers the rest of the way. The name 'Dudley-Port' indicates that your journey to Dudley was not quite over. The more usual euphemism was 'Road' - 'Clarbiston Road', for instance, was nowhere near the village. Although there were originally some through trains to Dudley, most passengers had to change onto the 'Dudley Dodger', a 'push-pull' or 'railmotor' train, which waited in the third platform. Passengers from Birmingham only had to cross the island platform to reach the 'Dodger' but, in the opposite direction, passengers from Dudley to Birmingham had to go through the subway to the up platform.

Although I remember push-pull fitted 2-6-2 tanks on the 'Dodger', by the early sixties when I got to work Dudleyport box, the service had reduced to a couple of trips a day operated by a single-car DMU, invariably called the 'Bubble Car'. Other DMUs worked the locals but, apart from some main-line diesels, trains were still steam-hauled.

The area had one other claim to fame - Palethorpes Sausage factory was only a short distance away. In 1896 this was the largest sausage producer in the world! Every afternoon, most of their production was loaded into their own railway vans at their private siding, brought up to Dudleyport and individual vehicles were attached to various expresses which stopped at Dudleyport for the purpose. In the morning, the empties would be returned and taken back to the Palethorpes siding. Under cost pressure from supermarkets, production was moved in 1967 to a new plant at Market Drayton.

All the points were mechanically operated, all the signals were semaphore, single wire operated, apart from the down distant. When Albion's down starting signal was converted to a colour light, Dudleyport controlled the change from yellow to green. One remarkable survivor was the platform starter from the bay platform, which was a lower-quadrant London and North Western signal with a wooden post. The main arm (lever 14) allowed trains onto the branch to Dudley. There were then two subsidiary semaphore arms mounted on brackets - the left one (lever 15) read to the carriage sidings, the right one (lever 16) read to the Down Goods.

Note that 'Up' and 'Down' on the branch were labelled to correspond with the South Stafford Line, which the branch joined at the next box, Sedgley Junction. Thus, a Down train on the main line turning left at Dudleyport would suddenly become an 'Up' train.

The box itself was a standard London and North Western design with a brick base and 70-lever frame. As was standard on the London and North Western and many railways, the frame was on the track side so that the signalman faced the tracks as he worked the levers. Continuous windows on the track side plus windows at each end of the box gave a view of movements outside. However, the block shelf above the levers partially obstructed the view and as more electrical equipment, such as signal light repeaters, was often added as time went on, visibility could be impaired. Later L.M.S. and British Rail practice was to place the frame away from the track so that, in theory, the view towards the track was less obstructed. Personally, I have always preferred the original arrangement.

Down trains on the main line required levers 2 (Home 1), 3 (Home 2 on the big wooden gantry spanning the main lines), 4 (starter on the large tubular post signal) and, finally, 1 (the distant). The top six inches of lever 1 had been removed, as a reminder to signalmen not to take a swing at it, because the only action of this lever was to work an electrical contact box under the floor.

Up trains on the main line required levers 69, 68, 67 and finally 70. Now this lever remained mechanical and certainly required some effort. The wire operated the weight bar for signal 70b, which was mounted underneath Mond Gas Company's Sidings signal. The wire then extended further to operate the weight bar for signal 70a, underneath Watery Lane's Up Starter. Electrical repeaters on the block shelf showed how successful you'd been at "giving the driver the back 'uns", that is, clearing the distant signals so that an approaching driver knew that all your signals were "Off". These repeaters could show 'ON' (signal arm horizontal, displaying a warning to an approaching train), 'OFF' (signal arm raised through 45 degrees) or just 'WRONG' which was somewhere in between the two valid positions.

>Matters obviously became more interesting if you were also dealing with freight trains on the goods lines, a train on the branch, or performing some shunting. There are many points of interest in the layout and maybe we'll return to Dudleyport again.

Working for the Big Boys

Back in 1975, G.E.C. (the English General Electric Company, not to be confused with the separate American business, General Electric or G.E.) was an industrial giant. You name it, G.E.C. made it - what we now call a clongomerate, but I don't remember the term being used then. Under the not altogether benign rule of Arnold Weinstock, the business had accumulated cash reserves of over 800 million pounds, then a huge sum (and not to be sniffed at now!).

They'd set their sights on the contract to electrify the main line railway in Taiwan which runs the length of the island from Keelung in the North, through the capital Tai Pei to Kaosiung in the South and after agressive international bidding, they won the contract. The telecommunications part of the contract was farmed out to the Overseas Projects Department at G.E.C. Telecommunications in Coventry. They had world-wide experience in cables, transmission equipment and general telephony. But the project required quite a lot of special-purpose systems for train despatching and maintenance which were outside their normal scope.

So my firm secured a sub-contract to design and supply the special-purpose systems. The requirements in Taiwan were novel, so we had a lot of design work to carry out. But we could adopt some parts of our existing designs and our previous railway experience was invaluable. We were so proud to obtain work from such a prestigious company as G.E.C! We entered a steep learning curve as we discovered just how demanding working for G.E.C. could be but we were also fortunate that the head of Overseas Projects was Eric Hancock. He represented what I regarded as the best of G.E.C. - experienced, competent, thorough, incisive, scrupulous and completely fair. He could also be demanding and infuriating.

I represented my firm at the regular progress and interface meetings chaired by Eric Hancock. Around the table would be representatives from each of the sub-contractors, all much larger firms than mine. Eric would demand brief, cogent answers to a series of well-formulated questions which would quickly test the weak points of any sub-contractor's position. I learnt a lot about business meetings from watching Eric, the expert ringmaster. He detested obfuscation and empty rhetoric and he could be scathing in interrogating the people around the table. I was amazed at how badly-prepared a lot of the attendees were and how they attempted to conceal their ignorance with "waffle". I learned to be prepared with facts, tell the truth briefly and admit it when I didn't have answers. To my surprise and relief, this seemed the magic formula and I seemed to get off very lightly compared with others at the meetings.

Eric would press to obtain undertakings about what would be achieved by what date and it was wise to ensure that what was promised was done. Woe betide those who failed in this respect, because Eric would have carefully recorded each undertaking in the minutes which were circulated. He would push for his "pound of flesh" and would examine each commercial agreement to ensure that what had been agreed was provided. But he was not unreasonable and if you could show that some work he required was not within your scope, he would discuss an extra payment to be made.

Although I had great respect for the man, his intransigence could be infuriating. I remember one occasion when he refused point-blank to pay a very considerable sum owing to us until I credited VAT amounting to, I think eighteen pence. I explained that the discrepancy had accumulated over a long series of invoices from individual 'rounding errors' in calculating the VAT. The methods used were in accordance with the VAT regulations. He would have none of it. His method of calculation gave different 'rounding errors' and that was it. He got his credit note, we got our cheque.

I learned a lot from Eric over that, and subsequent contracts for G.E.C. When he passed away, some years later, I was surprised to find myself devastated. All disagreements forgotten, I remember him only with fondness.

If it were easy, everyone would do it

In the early 1970s, British Rail was modernising and electrifying the West Coast Main Line from Crewe to Carlisle. Just three Power Signal Boxes at Warrington, Preston and Carlisle would take over the work of a large number of mechanical signal boxes. My firm had had some success in designing selective call systems for use over Private Mobile Radio so, when we were invited to tender for the design and supply of selective call telephone systems for the West Coast Main Line, we were keen to be involved. As far as we could tell, the opposition was still using mechanically tuned resonant reed relays. This was a well-established and reliable approach, but with a number of technical restrictions and relatively expensive.

We came up with an approach using a small number of voice frequencies transmitted as a sequence of tones which were electronically generated and detected. Provided that we could reduce power consumption sufficiently, the technique offered the possibility of a completely line-powered system with significant economies. Low power digital integrated circuits were just starting to appear, using Complementary Metal Oxide Silicon (CMOS) technology, and these devices seemed to offer exactly what we required. Motorola, one of the early manufacturers, were keen to expand their sales and so we tendered based on this approach and were delighted to be awarded the contract.

Detailed system design went ahead and the prototype equipment was built using the Motorola devices. Everything worked well so purchase orders for the production quantities were placed. Only then did problems appear. Motorola would not confirm delivery in line with their quotation and the truth only came out during a long telephone call with Phoenix, Arizona. Deliveries of the production quantities would be delayed by many months - an unacceptable position. We had been cautious enough to ensure that there was a second source for the integrated circuits at R.C.A., but not cautious enough to discover that only superior, military versions of the integrated circuits could be shipped in any reasonable timescale. The military versions were about ten times the cost of the industrial versions which we required and the effect on the project would have been disastrous. Not for the last time in my career, I felt utterly dejected.

Not knowing when to give up, we continued to search for an alternative. The ability to line power the equipment had been a major factor in the selection of our design but this was the hardest feature to reproduce if the CMOS devices were denied us. Eventually, we produced another prototype system which used exactly the same signalling system as the original design but where the integrated circuits were replaced by low-power silicon transistor stages. Quite a lot of the design effort had to be repeated but, at the end of the day, we were able to meet our commitments to British Rail and survive as a business. Subsequently, we received substantial repeat business from British Rail.

So, is there a moral to this tale? I'm sure there are lots, but I'll leave you to decide what they should be. It convinced me of the truth of the saying "If it were easy, everyone would do it".

Railway Signalling: Tipton

When I was much younger, I studied railway signalling and, through the kindness of a number of signalmen, I became a regular visitor at various signal boxes in the West Midlands. One of my favourites was Tipton, on the Stour Valley Line between Birmingham New Street and Wolverhampton. Under supervision, I worked this box on countless occasions. In May 1961, I made a simplified copy of the signalbox diagram, which is shown above. Larger version of the diagram.

The mechanical box was situated on a double track main line using Absolute Block signalling, controlling a busy road crossing with mechanically worked gates. The next box to the left (the Birmingham direction) was Watery Lane (which survives, but with a diminished role). The next box to the right (the Wolverhampton direction) was Bloomfield Junction. The line diverging bottom right joined the South Stafford Line at Wednesbury, giving access to the marshalling yard at Bescot, Walsall and beyond. The adjacent box was Tipton Curve Junction, where there was a branch to Bloomfield Junction, forming the 'Tipton Triangle'. The signalling was semaphore in 1961 and there was only one track circuit. A few years later, the branch was abandoned, a power signal box at Wolverhampton abolished all the mechanical signalboxes and the line was electrified. Tipton box survived for some years to supervise the road crossing, which was provided with lifting barriers. The crossing remains but is now supervised remotely from Watery Lane and all trace of the Tipton box is gone.

The box was a standard London and North Western Railway design, with a brick base. The lever frame was the earlier Webb design with the massive interlocking in the ground floor 'locking room'. Above the colour-coded levers on the operating floor was a block shelf carrying three Fletcher pattern double-needle block instruments plus sundry lamp repeaters.

Most movements were through trains on the main line, some of which called at the station (adjacent to crossover 19). Down trains required levers 3, 4 and the distant signal 2. There was block control on lever 4, requiring 'Line Clear' from Bloomfield Junction before clearance was possible. Up trains required 34, 33 and wire-operated distant signal 35, mounted on Bloomfield Junction's up starting signal, the 'four-armer'. Provided this distant signal had been correctly cleared (which could be tricky in summer when the wire expanded, unless the "slack adjuster" was correctly set), motor-worked distant 35B cleared automatically.

There was no Block Control on signal 33, which was termed a 'free signal'. Entrance to the sidings on the down side required lever 14 which controlled a set of points in the down main and two sets of trap points. Lever 15 selected between Siding 1 (the "front road") and Siding 2 (the "back road"). As was common, ground signal 13 controlled access to the main line from both sidings. Authority to back from the down main into either siding was by a handsignal from the box. Movements through the crossover, 19, were also controlled by handsignal. The branch line was accessed via facing points 21, provided with a facing point lock and locking bar, lever 21. Beyond the junction, there was an unusual locking or clearance bar, lever 18, with spring-controlled catch points beyond. A down train onto the branch required signals 5, 6 and 7. The trailing connection from the branch was lever 22, protected by signal 30. There was only a fixed distant signal coming off the branch: this was mounted on Tipton Curve Junction's "four-armer". Annett's Key 'A' released a sidings ground frame, but I never saw this used.

Then there were the level crossing gates, just outside the box. It was a skew crossing where two gates moved first, then the other two. Instead of the more common "ship's wheel", the gates were controlled by a "mangle wheel" with a greater reduction ratio requiring around 14 turns to complete the movement. It was quite difficult to get the gates swinging but, once they were moving, it was even harder to stop them. In those days, there were no flashing lights to control the traffic, you just had to wait as long as you dared then try to force the traffic to stop. But, of course, no motorist wants to be first in the queue, so they would tailgate or dash onto the crossing to try to prevent the gates closing in front of them. Minor accidents were common.

At that time, the majority of trains were still steam-hauled, although many of the locals were diesel multiple units and some main-line diesels were appearing. I feel very privileged that I saw the railway as it was, before it was all swept away. The movements I witnessed belonged to a different era. You can find more on this signal box here.

Sunday at Peak Rail:

Lisa and Jan on the footplate of 'Royal Pioneer' at Peak Rail on 14th January 2007 (photograph by John Archer).

I was driver at Peak Rail on Sunday. My fireman, Chris Ward (an ex-Annesley fireman from B.R. days) was there early to light-up. I turned up about 07:00 to oil-round. This is a messy and uncomfortable process, particularly with an inside cylinder engine like 'Royal Pioneer', where you usually end up climbing between the frames to reach the oiling points on the inside motion. At least it's easier than a Great Western 'King' or 'Castle'. These 4-cylinder engines have been praised by generations of enginemen for the way they pull and cursed for the contortions necessary to get oil in all the right places on the inside motion.

Although the first service train was not 'till 11:00, the loco is required for 08:30 for 'Driving Experience' where one or two people, mainly men but sometimes women, fulfill what is often a lifetime's ambition to drive and fire a steam locomotive. It's a popular birthday present for major birthdays. I was involved in what I think were the first commercially-organised driving experiences at Birmingham Railway Museum, but most preserved railways now offer this format, and I've supervised trainees at a number of railways on lots of different steam engines (and a few diesels). I believe my personal total of trainees is now over 5,000! Well, we had a pleasant couple of hours with our trainee who seemed to enjoy his time with us, well photographed by his family from the trackside, before moving across to the four coaches in the platform which formed the service.

We're in the steam heating season so, as well as attaching the screw coupling and vacuum hoses (invariably referred to as 'bags'), between the locomotive and leading coach, the fireman also coupled up the steam heating hoses so that he could warm the train. Then we were advised that the Church Lane signalman had arrived to find that a tree had been blown down by the high winds in the night. The tree had damaged one corner of the roof of the signalbox and was now blocking the track. We were told to expect a half-hour delay whilst a work party cut up and removed the obstruction.

In the event, we finally got away around 11:20 which meant we arrived at our Northern terminus, Rowsley, at about the time we should have been departing in the opposite direction. We uncoupled the engine and ran forward to the water tank to replenish the locomotive's saddle tank (even an 'Austerity' 0-6-0T is quite a big kettle and a thirsty beast, particularly when you're making steam to keep the passengers warm). We then ran round, coupled onto the other end of the train, set the loco lamps and "blew up" the brakes (that is, create the regulation 21 inches of Mercury partial vacuum in the brake system to release the continuous brake throughout the train). We ran round in a little less than the 20 minutes allowance, so we left Rowsley having "pulled back" a few minutes of the late running.

There's not much opportunity for fast running "on the road" - the Line Speed Limit on most preserved lines is 25 miles per hour and there are lower limits at various points along the route, where speed has to be reduced to as little as 5 miles per hour. Visitors to the footplate are often surprised to find that the majority of steam locomotives are not fitted with a speedometer, although substantial numbers of large passenger locomotives were so equipped. Instead, drivers took pride in the use of a variety of techniques to estimate their speed. In the old days, you could normally be sure that, if a train was exceeding the designated speed restriction, the driver was doing so deliberately. Nowadays, of course, with portable GPS commonplace, it's not unusual for interested passengers to keep track of your speed. Only last week, I had a report from a passenger that I'd been going 25 m.p.h. towards Matlock and 22 m.p.h. coming back (uphill) - perfectly legal!

However, a combination of keeping up the speed on the road and smart station working at our intermediate stop at Darley Dale meant that we were only about ten minutes late on arrival at our other terminus, Matlock Riverside. The best way to pick up seconds is in uncoupling, running round the stock and coupling but the allowed ten minutes doesn't give much scope for improvement. Safety is paramount - you don't pick up time by rushing with couplings or dashing about with the engine, but by working intelligently, avoiding wasted effort and stopping the engine accurately. Keeping a good lookout for the Guard's "rightaway" (green flag and whistle) helps, so that the train can depart promptly once authorised. We had a good run in the 'Down' direction (usually, but not invariably 'Down' is away from London, 'Up' towards London) and shaved a few more seconds on our stop at Darley Dale so that we pulled into Rowsley again only a few minutes in arrears. More smart working on watering and running round meant that we were ready to depart at 12:35, as booked.

Chris drove the second round trip and the afternoon fireman, Lisa, came on early to fire, leaving me with a watching brief. For the third trip, Chris left us and Lisa fired to me. One always refers to a fireman "firing to" a driver - indeed, the way a driver handles an engine makes a big difference to the task of the fireman. Ideally, teamwork allows the crew to work together and enjoy a much better trip. In the old days, some drivers were referred to as "mankillers" for their lack of consideration to the fireman in their use of steam.

Lisa and I completed the day on time and without incident. I think this may be the first time Peak Rail has fielded an all-female crew, although I've done it before at Birmingham Railway Museum, the Avon Valley Railway and the North Norfolk Railway.

Incidentally, the morning fireman, Chris Ward, has an excellent collection of photographs at http://christopher8062.fotopic.net/ and recollections of his B.R. days at http://www.annesleyfireman.com/.

Early Locomotive Design

This post is based on a talk given by Jan Ford at the Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester.

In the eighteen twenties, Manchester was already a thriving city with a business class of prosperous, imaginative entrepreneurs. Landlocked, Manchester looked to Liverpool, both for the import of raw materials and for the export of finished products. But communications with Liverpool, by road and canal, were inconvenient and slow.

One of the most successful early railways was the Stockton and Darlington Railway opened in 1825 in the North East of England. Although it was a mineral line and speeds were slow, it proved that steam locomotives offered a practical method of shifting heavy loads on a regular basis. With this inspiration, the Manchester businessmen looked to build a railway line from Manchester to Liverpool. Passenger carrying was envisaged from the start. The promoters’ dream was to travel from Manchester to Liverpool, transact their business and return to Manchester in time for dinner the same day!

There were vested interests who opposed the railway and the first attempt at securing the necessary Act of Parliament failed. Better prepared for the second attempt, the Act was secured. George Stephenson became involved in the project and the route decided upon included gradients (‘inclined planes’) gentle enough to allow the use of steam locomotives on the main part of the route. But the matter was not cut-and-dried. Locomotive design was still in its infancy and the possibility of fixed steam engines with cable haulage was seriously entertained.

A stationary engine could, if required, be large and fed from a generously-proportioned boiler. Permanent arrangements for the supply of water and fuel could be made. In contrast, locomotive engines had to fit the boiler and all the mechanism of the steam engine together with supplies of coal and water on a wheeled carriage which then proceeded to shake itself to pieces whilst breaking the rails upon which it ran. Materials were of generally poor quality and production techniques, such as involved in the casting and boring of cylinders, were still primitive. Essentially, locomotive building was blacksmith’s work.

The Directors of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway decided upon a competition, with a £500 prize to the winner, to find the best steam locomotive design before finally deciding upon the method of traction for their line. In 1929, the Rainhill Trials were held, amid massive public interest. The watching spectators viewed the event like a horse race, but the Directors had a more serious intent, seeking a locomotive which could haul a significant load and prove reliable but was not so heavy as to damage the track. The competitors who made an appearance represented a variety of approaches to the problems.

‘Cycloped’ was an ingenious way of utilising the power of a horse on a railway but it represented a dead-end.

‘Novelty’ was the entrant which caught the eye of the crowd, dashing around at spectacular speeds. The design was derived from the reasonably-successful steam carriage but 'Novelty' was plagued with problems and the design would have been difficult to extend into a larger, more powerful machine.

'Perseverance' was another 'steam carriage' design but here the problems were so severe that she was withdrawn from the competition without running.

There were two contenders from the North East. The Stephensons, father and son, produced ‘Rocket’, the eventual winner. Timothy Hackworth competed with ‘Sans Pareil’. The similarities and differences between these locomotives illustrate the essentials of an effective locomotive design and we’ll study these competitors in greater detail in a later article.

Although ‘Rocket’ won the Rainhill Trials and the Stephensons produced a number of copies for the Liverpool and Manchester in the 1830s, they were rather lightweight machines. The fairly similar ‘Northumbrian’ class quickly followed. But, in very short order, the Stephensons produced the ‘Planet’ which, in its own way, was as revolutionary as ‘Rocket’ had been.

Having put the essentials in place, design evolved in a less spectacular manner. To allow a larger locomotive, an extra pair of wheels was added and the 2-2-2 wheel arrangement of the ‘Patentee’ was copied by a number of manufacturers. For goods engines requiring additional traction, the leading pair of wheels was replaced by a coupled axle, giving an 0-4-2 wheel arrangement. In 1838, when the short-lived partnership of Todd, Kitson and Laird built ‘Lion’ for the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, they produced an 0-4-2 of distinctly Stephenson appearance.

As materials improved, bar or plate frames tended to replace the use of sandwich frames (or simply hanging parts on the boiler itself) but the general layout of locomotives of this period, with horizontal boiler and more-or-less horizontal cylinders inside or outside the framing was retained for the next century.

'Henry'

These notes were written some years ago when I was a regular driver at Birmingham Railway Museum. I believe I was the last person to have the locomotive in steam before the firebox was finally condemned. I'm not aware that the locomotive has been returned to steam (but I may be wrong). At the time, there was a 'Henry Club', championed by Jo Howard, to interest children in steam railways.

Henry is a classical-design four-coupled industrial saddle tank locomotive produced in 1901 but very similar in design to locomotives produced half a century later.

Boiler: Parallel boiler with round-topped, flush firebox. Conventional dome with 2-port slide-valve regulator. Firebox provided with a single row of firebars. Ashpan provided with a single, trailing damper, operated by a lever moving vertically on the left side of the firebox. Round firehole with split firedoors sliding horizontally. Ramsbottom safety valve (twin branch with single coil spring and relieving lever extending into cab) on top of firebox outside cab together with steam manifold. An auxiliary steam manifold is provided inside the cab on top of the firebox. Built-up smokebox with hinged, dished smokebox door, secured by a dart and tightened by a wheel. Cast chimney. Feed water introduced on vertical centre line of boiler, midway along length, on both left and right sides at clack valves provided with integral shut-off cocks. The clacks are supplied from two injectors with integral water cocks, bolted onto the underside of the saddle towards the rear of the tank, one on each side of the boiler. The water cocks are operated from the cab by horizontal levers which pull to open, push to shut off. Steam to the injectors is supplied by two cocks on the manifold operated from handles inside the cab. The overflow from each injector is taken downwards through the footframing.

Coal and water: Two coal bunkers are provided, one on either side of the firebox. Water is provided in a saddle tank, extending from the front of the smokebox to the rear of the boiler, but not covering the firebox. The dome and chimney pierce the tank, which has a lift-off lid for filling at the firebox end.

Steam distribution: The main steam pipe runs from the regulator valve in the dome to the smokebox, where it branches into two steam pipes passing to the valve chests. The two valve chests are mounted vertically between the frames adjacent to the two cylinders mounted outside the frames. Steam distribution is by slide valves operated from Stephenson's Link motion. The driving axle is provided with four eccentrics, forward and reverse for each cylinder. The end of each forward eccentric rod is connected to the top of the associated curved, slotted expansion link, the reverse eccentric rod to the bottom of the link. Each valve rod is operated from a die block sliding in the curved slot of the associated expansion link. Each link is suspended from the transverse weigh shaft by two lifting links. The weigh shaft is operated from the reversing lever on the right hand side of the cab via the reversing rod. Notches in the reversing quadrant allow the reversing rod to be set to Full Forward, Expansive Forward, Mid-gear, Expansive Back, Full Back. Drain cocks are provided for the front and back of each cylinder and for each valve chest. All six cocks are operated via a mechanical linkage from a vertical lever alongside the reversing quadrant (lift for cocks open).

Each cylinder drives a crosshead guided by two slide bars. The slide bars are attached to the cylinder casting at the front and a plate motion bracket at the rear. The crosshead drives the crankpin on the driving axle via the gudgeon pin and connecting rod. Each big end is provided with two semi-circular bearing brasses, adjusted by a gib and cotter. Two coupling rods distribute power to the leading axle.

Braking: Henry is provided with a single steam brake cylinder with relief valve mounted under the rear left of the cab with the piston rod operting horizontally, fore and aft, onto the transverse brake shaft. Two sets of brake rigging connect the brake shaft to the bottom of four brake hangers provided with cast brake blocks. A coil spring is provided at the front of the locomotive on the centreline to pull off the brakes. The steam brake is controlled by a rotary brake valve on the auxiliary steam manifold (fountain) in the cab. When the valve is open, live steam is supplied to the brake cylinder, proportional to valve opening. Closing the valve vents the brake cylinder to atmosphere via a pipe passing upwards through the cab roof.

To allow the locomotive to work passenger trains, a vacuum ejector has been provided above the foot framing on the right hand side of the smokebox. This is controlled from a live steam cock on the right hand side of the cab. The steam cock should not be opened too far as, otherwise, turbulence within the ejector will render it less effective at creating vacuum. The ejector exhausts a system of 2" piping connected to standard flexible vacuum hoses on the front and rear buffer beams. A driver's application valve and vacuum relief valve is provided on the right-hand side of the

Lubrication: Each axlebox has an integral oil reservoir cast on top, accessed by lifting a sheet steel cover plate. Three tail trimmings feed oil from each reservoir to the two hornguides and the journal.

Birmingham Science Museum

When I was young, it was a real thrill to visit Birmingham Science Museum, then situated in cramped quarters in Newhall Street. Every inch was packed with a fascinating variety of artefacts and, although some of the areas were a bit scruffy, it was all good fun.

That museum was closed and moved to a modern warehouse at Millenium Point, just yards away from the 1838 terminus of the London and Birmingham Railway in Curzon Street. I finally visited the new museum a few days ago and I'm afraid I found it as appalling as I expected. Three floors are described by one of my friends as a 'theme park' - lots of jazzily staged (and very noisy) interactive science exhibits suitable for children with attention deficit syndrome. As you look at one loud exhibit, the next distracts you with its sound track. Maybe the staging is effective for a young audience, but on the morning I visited there were no young people, just earnest adults who looked as bewildered as I was.

The low ceilings, dramatic lighting and sound effects soon made me flee to the ground floor, where there are real artefacts and a little daylight filters in from Millenium Square outside. There's a collection of stationary steam engines (including the 'Smethwick Engine', which claims to be the oldest working steam engine in the world), motor vehicles, aircraft, a Birmingham tram and the imprisoned locomotive 'City of Birmingham'.

But I'm afraid the layout seemed cramped, the eyelines to view the exhibits often poor, the printed explanations terse and the alternation of general gloom with occasional spotlights unhelpful. I can see that a lot of effort has gone into interpreting the things on display, so I'm sorry to appear so unappreciative.

My first trip to India

My first visit to India was a business trip in 1992. Ford Electronics had supplied telecommunications equipment to G.E.C. for the Delhi Ring Resignalling Project and I'd agreed to go to Delhi for a couple of weeks to assist in commissioning. In fact, I was there for almost seven weeks! We were very comfortably settled in a large, modern hotel in New Delhi invariably referred to as 'Taj Man Singh' because of its location in Man Singh Road. G.E.C. had a car and driver and each day we would be ferried through the city to the various work sites as necessary.

I had experienced the Far East a number of times in earlier trips to Hong Kong and Taiwan and expected India to be similar. But most people agree that India is unique. The combination of the heat, the people, the culture can overwhelm Westerners. I was told that people either love India or hate it - indifference is not an option. For a couple of days as I coped with it all, I wasn't sure which camp I'd be in. Then I decided I loved it. One of the ex-patriate wives told me "I've been here for five years, but India still has the power to shock or delight me with some new discovery".

There was a different shock for me on the first morning going to work. As the car passed under a railway bridge, a train was passing over the top. To my amazement, it was hauled by a very run-down steam locomotive - a class 'WP' broad-gauge 'Pacific'. I'd assumed all steam had been eliminated and yet here I was, transported back to the '60s when steam was being eliminated in Britain.

We started work in a telecommunications equipment room surrounded by railway lines at Delhi Junction. Working practices were so different from the U.K. - no high-visibility clothing, public and staff wandering all over the railway at will. On one side, we had the broad gauge through platforms with an incessant procession of trains, electric, diesel and (occasionally), steam. On the other side, the metre gauge terminal platforms were served a by a series of diesel- and steam-hauled services.

I could hardly believe my eyes and it was hard to keep my mind on the job in hand! But this, of course, was only the first of the shocks and surprises in store for me. You can read a little more of my adventures here.

[Link to continuation added 15-January 2013]

Thai Railfan Club

Jan working on the mural described below

During my earlier business trips to Thailand, I'd met Sanpasiri Viriyasiri who was involved in the Thai Railfan Club. He was carrying out an ambitious plan to open a railway museum in an existing warehouse building in Chatuchak Park, Bangkok. I'd agreed to go out there in the last few days before the official opening to try to lend a hand. It was a remarkable visit.

The first thing that struck me on visiting the museum was that it was a rather large building for the number of exhibits on hand. Sanpasiri assured me that more exhibits were expected imminently. He had high-level contacts in the Thai State Railway and had used them to good effect. But it was agreed that I would be despatched to the railway to seek out further exhibits of signalling equipment. Arrangements were made for me and I met the General Manager of the railways, who spoke excellent English. My friend Sanpasiri did not accompany me, because there were so many other arrangements to be made, but it was clear that he was regarded with great respect.

I was received with all courtesy and, at the end of a pleasant interview, I was taken to the Signalling Workshops to make detailed arrangements, with the full backing of the General Manager. There followed a fascinating tour of the workshops, where I felt rather like a child in a sweetshop. My eyes would light on something and I would stop and say "that would make a suitable exhibit!". My idea was to re-create a simple signal box, so that the method of signalling a train could be interpreted to museum visitors.

Most of Thailand then used semaphore signals, manually worked by wire from a lever frame in a signal box or station building. The equipment largely followed German practice. Points were double-wire operated from the same 'turnover' lever frame as the signals. In general, the section of track between stations was single, with electric tablet instruments at each end of the section interconnected over an open wire telephone route. The tablet instruments ensured that only one tablet at a time could be extracted from the pair of instruments as authority to a driver to enter the single line. This tablet had to be replaced in either of the pair of instruments before a further tablet could be withdrawn to allow a second train to proceed. At a regional level, the sequence of trains was controlled by a Train Despatcher who was in telephone communication with every signalbox and station in the region over the open wire telephone route. The Train Despatcher telephone equipment had originally been supplied by Standard Telephones and Cables in England but, by the time the museum opened, this life-expired equipment had been replaced by Ford Electronics equipment installed by G.E.C.

It was agreed that the Signalling Workshops would recondition a couple of tablet instruments, a small lever frame and a number of associated artefacts to form one of the displays in the museum. It was the first (and only) time I'd had the authority to commission work in this way.

I had another idea to 'decorate' the museum and this involved me directly. We agreed to paint a full-sized mural of the front view of a British locomotive on one of the end walls of the hall, hopefully to look as if the engine was just entering from outside. We purchased a number of sheets of plywood and fixed these to the end wall to form a 'doorway'. In a magazine I'd brought with me for my Thai friends, there were scale plans of an LMS 0-6-0T shunting engine, the ubiquitous 'Jinty'. I scaled up the front view to full size and drew the outline on the plywood in pencil. Then, using poster paints, I produced the mural, assisted by one of the members of Thai Railfan Club. It was, literally, a huge task. I had never produced a mural before - certainly not a full-size representation of a locomotive! When we were finished, I was amazed at how impressive it looked. The mural survived for a number of years, but when I went back last, it had gone.

Meanwhile, Sanpasiri had achieved tremendous results and artefacts were arriving and being set up hour by hour. The nationalised railway had made a splendid effort with the signalling display and the whole hall took on the appearance of a rather jolly museum. Just as well, as opening day was upon us and all sorts of celebrities were expected.

The opening ceremony was to be just outside the hall (Thai weather is usually rather more reliable than England, except in the rainy season). Microphones were set up, facing a row of huge leather armchairs for the VIPs. Behind the armchairs, a number of rows of folding chairs were provided for the 'lesser lights'. Everyone else was to stand. A number of television news crews were on hand, with Sanpasiri moving effortlessly from one to another giving interviews. To my astonishment, I was to participate in one interview. Since I neither understand nor speak Thai, my contribution was limited to nodding frequently in what I hoped was an intelligent manner whilst studying a plan of the exhibition.

As the VIPs arrived, I was solemnly introduced to each one. They all seemed disproportionately impressed by my presence but I never found out what they had been told. My final embarrassment was when it was made clear that one of the armchairs was for me. I sat through the opening ceremony, completely oblivious to what was being said, apart from the occasions when my name was spoken with far to much respect, for my contribution had not been great. But everyone was happy, we had a great day and, like Sanpasiri, I believe that anything which encourages people to delight in railways, particularly steam railways, is a good thing!

I still prize the Thai Railfan Club tee shirt they presented me with as a souvenir. It has a picture of one of the preserved Japanese-built 'Moguls' on the front and 'I LOVE TRAINS', in English and Thai, on the back.

My pictures

I have a few photographs of this wonderful visit. They were on 35mm film but they have been scanned and you can find them at Bangkok Railway Museum (1990).

[Photograph link added 29-Oct-2015]

Train Dispatcher Project - Thailand

A picture taken at the 'I & C Seminar' held at the conclusion of the Project

The first three or four visits I made to Thailand were on business. We'd concluded an agreement with G.E.C. to design and supply selective call telephone equipment for use on Thai State Railways.

The specification was clearly written around electro-mechanical equipment and much later I found some details of a quite old Japanese system which I imagine formed the basis of the Japanese tender. But we'd come up with what we thought was a fairly elegant approach using a microprocessor, enabling us to show quite significant cost savings which may have helped G.E.C. to secure the main contract.

I quite looked forward to the possibility of visiting Thailand as the contract proceeded. I was placed in a very good hotel - the Hilton at Nai Lert Park. The only down side was the mosquitoes, particularly in the evening, which were attracted by the number of canals in the vicinity. G.E.C. had a resident Project Manager, Phil, supported by a number of engineers based at the offices of the local agents, Summit Engineering. I made a number of good friends within Summit, especially Dheb and Kamthorn and I was treated with great courtesy. In addition to technical work carried out at the offices, I attended a number of meetings with the client, Thai State Railways, and the Japanese consultants. Sometimes there were clashes of culture and things could become difficult but my role was principally advisory and technical so I avoided the real rough-and-tumble.

As the installation work got under way, we ourselves had an Installation Manager, Peter, on site, to assist with installation problems and train the large numbers of staff who had to become conversant with the new equipment. Equipment was installed at over 600 locations throughout Thailand so there was quite a lot a travelling within Thailand.

On my various visits to Thailand, I was always based in Bangkok but I myself made trips to Chiang Mai in the North, Hat Yai in the South, Ubon Ratchathani in the East and along many of the branch railways. Of course, this travelling gave me the opportunity to study the railway, which delighted me. Steam had been eliminated some years earlier but there were occasional steam-hauled enthusiast specials, although I never managed to synchronise my visits with one of these trips.

Occasionally, when problems arose, I went out in the field to carry out tests or investigate the difficulty. I well remember one branch line where unacceptable levels of noise were present on the telephone circuits, despite the circuits themselves testing correctly. Eventually, we persuaded the railway to lay on a motorised inspection trolley so that we could drive along this branch looking for possible external factors. About halfway along the branch, we found one of the largest electrical substations I've ever seen, right next to the railway and with numerous overhead cables crossing or running parallel to the railway. The induction from this installation was more than enough to account for the problems but people were either unaware of its existence or failed to see its relevance. Once we'd identified the problem, we were able to mitigate the effects.

Eventually, after a great many 'alarums and excursions', the project was completed towards the end of 1989 and a conference was organised at a Bangkok hotel where G.E.C. outlined what had been achieved to a large group of senior managers from the railway. I was in charge of setting up a comprehensive working demonstration of the equipment which we'd supplied and I also addressed the conference briefly about our involvement. You can see pictures of this event here.

All-in-all, it was a wonderful experience, leaving me with a number of new friends and an abiding love of Thailand.

I've been back to Thailand a number of times since (for instance, see Thai Railfan Club and various posts on subsequent travels through the Far East, particularly Far East Tour, 2005).

My pictures

My 35mm pictures taken around Thai Railways as we commissioned the train despatcher equipment and pictures of the I&C Seminar have been scanned and can be found below:-

Railways in Thailand (1989).
Train Despatcher Project I & C Seminar: 1-Sep-1989

[Links to pictures added 29-Oct-2015]

Lion

It should be clear, from even casual inspection of this blog, that steam railways form an important part of my life. People often ask how I became actively involved. The short answer is 'Lion', the longer answer follows.

I was always interested in railways and engineering. That probably partly derives from my grandfather, who was an engineer and liked nothing better than explaining how things worked with an enthusiasm which was infectious. When I was quite young, I saw the comedy film "The Titfield Thunderbolt" which made quite an impression. I originally hoped to go into railway signal engineering. British Railways offered me a post, but not quite what I was after so I went into industrial electronics with a local company instead and rather turned my back on the railway scene. I could have joined the railway preservation movement then but I chose not to. After a few years, I started my own business and that left little time for hobbies. But I always retained a rather distant interest in railways.

I was already in my mid-40s on one fateful day in 1988 when I went to Manchester on business. The train I took to Manchester was routed via Crewe, instead of by the more usual Stoke-on-Trent line. As we clattered over the pointwork at Crewe North Junction, diverging onto the Manchester line, I glanced across at the site of Crewe Locomotive Works. Part of the largely redundant site had recently been converted into what was then called 'Crewe Heritage Centre' and visible above the fencing was the tall chimney of an ancient locomotive. I recognised it as the locomotive I'd seen 35 years earlier in Ealing Studios film 'The Titfield Thunderbolt', which I remembered was actually called 'Lion' and had survived from the early days of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway.

I went about my business during the day and eventually returned to Manchester Piccadilly station for the journey home. I made my way onto the platform for the express back home via Stoke on Trent, then I noticed a local train for Crewe on the adjacent platform. "Oh!", I thought, "Shall I get the express and get home quickly, or shall I get the local to Crewe and see if I can look at 'The Titfield Thunderbolt'?".

Well, I went to Crewe, walked to the Heritage Centre and found the 'Lion' supporters group, the Old Locomotive Committee (or simply OLCO) still running 'Lion' up and down the demonstration line. They gave me a ride, let me stand on the footplate and the Chairman said "You seem to be interested. Why don't you join our group?" To my surprise, I found myself saying "Why not?" and the rest, as they say, is history.

I didn't know at the time that they were short of a Secretary, so I served in this role and others for a number of years. But they let me fire the locomotive and occasionally drive before the locomotive was finally 'laid up' so I think myself very fortunate. With no great prospect of 'Lion' steaming again, I'd rather devote my efforts to working steam, so I resigned from my Secretary's role, but resumed it later.

All my posts on 'Lion' and the Old Locomotive Committee can be found here.

All my photographs of 'Lion' and the activities of the Old Locomotive Committee can be found here.

There's quite a collection of technical photographs of the prototype 'Lion' at Lion (Up close & personal).

[Links added: 9-Oct-2016]

Work

I still work more or less full time, but this important part of my life doesn't figure very strongly in these blogs. Considerations of commercial confidentiality mean that lots of things I'd be inclined to talk about can't be aired. Probably just as well, as my readers would probably find many of the topics even more mind-numbingly boring and obscure than my usual musings. My interest in engineering probably partly derives from my grandfather on my mother's side, who liked nothing better than explaining how things worked with an enthusiasm which was infectious. Prior to his retirement, he had been Chief Jig and Tool Designer at the Sunbeam Motor Company. I had originally hoped to go into railway signal engineering. British Railways offered me a post, but not quite what I was after, so I went into industrial electronics with a local company instead. In 1966, after a few years with the industrial electronics company, I started my own business in electronic engineering. I remained on good terms with my previous employer and they provided me with a number of our early orders. Since then, we've seen periods of growth, periods of contraction, good times and lots and lots of bad times. But overall, it's given me a fascinating and often challenging life. The business is now settled, at a very intimate scale, in a 350 year old barn next to my home. The commuting is better than it's ever been for me!

2018 Update:

Well, I'm still working and I have added a few more posts labelled 'Work'. There's an index of 'Work' posts here.

[Link to index added 16-Nov-2018]

Poland

The photograph, by Mike Leatherdale, shows Jan on the Ol 49 bringing the afternoon train from Posnan into Grosdysk (Click on picture to enlarge).

To celebrate a major birthday, my friend Mike Edwards had been given the present of an engine-driving holiday in Poland organised by the Wolsztyn Experience. Mike had already invited two of his motor bike enthusiast friends to join him and he asked if I'd like to make up a foursome. After some hesitation, I booked. In September, 2003, I met up with the three other participants at Stanstead and we had an excellent flight with Air Berlin to Berlin.

We'd a number of hours in Berlin before catching our train to Poland, so we caught the shuttle bus to the city to see some of the sights like the Brandenburg Gate, the Reichstag and the remains of The Wall. We travelled on the subway system and ended up at the excellent Museum of Technology where we spent a fascinating few hours. Suspended above the entrance to the museum is a complete aircraft - a Douglas C47, the military version of the famous DC3 'Dakota'. This is the aircraft which was the mainstay of the post-war Berlin Air Lift when the Russians tried to break the spirit of West Berlin by imposing a supply blockade. The splendid collection of railway locomotives was of particular interest to us all and outside there was even a working railway giving rides to a nearby museum site, sadly using diesel haulage. Eventually, we made our way to Berlin Zoo station, to catch the electric hauled express which was to take us to Poland. As the train made its slow departure from the city, we passed through areas which not so long ago had formed part of East Berlin and been virtually inaccessible.

An uneventful journey took us into Poland and we got off at the station where we were to be met, to continue by road to Wolsztyn. We were allocated rooms in the Wolsztyn Experience Clubhouse and a nearby flat. During briefings by Howard Jones, the organiser, the week was mapped out for us.

Mike and I volunteered go 'on the cushions' (travel as passengers) to Posnan to help fetch back a 2-8-0 freight locomotive which was returning from another part of Poland. We caught the early train from Wolstyn to Posnan, crewed by other people on the experience. There wasn't too long to wait before we heard the clank of an approaching steam locomotive and the class 'Tr5' stopped to pick us up. The Polish crew had some English so, once introductions were made, we set off light engine for Wolsztyn. On this leg, Mike drove and I fired. It had been decided, at some stage, that we would be combined with the following steam-hauled passenger train, so we were stopped to wait for the passenger train and shunted onto the front so that we made our first entry to Wolsztyn doubled headed in fine style!

On each day, we would work one of the 'diagrams', sharing the driving and firing and, of course, under the supervision of the Polish crew as we were handling public services on the PKP nationalised railway. When we were there, there were three basic 'diagrams':-

- an early service from Wolsztyn to Posnan, returning in the middle of the day.
- an afternoon service from Wolsztyn to Posnan, returning in the early evening.
- an afternoon service from Zybaszynek via Wolsztyn to Leszno.

Wolsztyn to Posnan is 50 miles reasonably flat, with about 21 stops, ending up 'under the wires' at the major station at Posnan, for which two hours is allowed.

Zebaszynek to Leszno is 50 miles, with a fair bit of 'collar work' (uphill), with 18 stops, for which one and three quarter hours is allowed.

The diagrams are designed for diesel haulage so, when using steam, there's no time for hanging around.

We were lucky in that we got to work on three different tender engines on the various diagrams:-

4-6-2 Pm 36-2 'Piekna Helena'
2-8-2 Pt 47-65
2-6-2 Ol 49-111

Of course, I also got to fire the Tr5 2-8-0 freight locomotive.

Jan, with Peak Rail driver Mike Edwards, on the footplate of Ol49 111 at Wolsztyn (Picture: Bob Roberts)

All of the trips were special, but I remember two particularly. First, an early train to Posnan which I drove from Wolsztyn with the massive Pt47. It was dark, it was raining, and we thundered towards Posnan, whistling for the many level crossings. Secondly, the afternoon train from Zybasynek to Lesno with the Pm36 'Piekna Helena' ('Beautiful Helen'). Mike had driven light engine tender first from Wolsztyn to Zybasynek to pick up the stock and I took over just after Zybasyn. We had to drive quite hard to meet the required sectional timings. As we passed through the forest section, the wailing of the whistle echoed back from the trees at each minor crossing. All too soon, we were at Lesno, dropped the coaches and then Mike drove light engine, tender first again, from Lesno back to Wolsztyn for disposal.

My photographs of this trip are at Polish Railways (PKP).

China

Back in 2002, when I read about the Three Gorges Project in China and how the completion of the hydro-electric project would permanently alter the appearance of the famous Three Gorges (raising the water level some 300 feet), I determined to see the area for myself before the flooding commenced.

I flew to Beijing (Peking) and was amazed at the huge modern airport. My guide took me to an equally modern American-style hotel in the centre of the city. Later, my guide took me to Tiananmen Square, crowded with tourists from every part of the huge country which is China but with very few Westerners. Despite the historic associations, I found it unthreatening. The huge parliament building lies on one side of the massive square, but the natural focus is the massive outer walls and gatehouse of the Forbidden City, carrying a large painting of Chairman Mao.

Along with hordes of tourists, we entered the Forbidden City, on payment of a few Yuan. For centuries only the highest castes of Chinese had been allowed into this palace (hence the name) and, when the Communsts took over, they lost no time in throwing it open to the people in a highly symbolic act. China has been criticised for its former poor standards of conservation and, it has to be said, some parts of this incredible city are rather down at heel. But there is a lot of work in progress and it appears to be of high qualty. The city is arranged as a series of concentric walls with hundreds of guest houses and palaces, becoming more important as you reach the centre of the city where only those closest to the Emperor were allowed. The overall effect is mind-boggling. One jarring note as we were fairly near the centre of the Forbidden City was a building attracting queues of people. "Starbucks!" said the guide proudly and he seemed quite disappointed that I had no desire to visit this particular building.

On an evening walking tour on my own of the brightly-lit city, I found modern shops representing all the Western designers and it was hard to believe that you were not in Europe. But I managed to work out how the Subway works and I went further afield where the lights were not so bright and the department stores more modest. I saw very few Europeans but I did not feel uncomfortable. Of course, I had some technical interest in how the Subway was built and operated. At the front of the train, it was possible to get a restricted view into the driving cab and along the track ahead. The trains are Driver Only Operation and the drivers follow the Japanese practice of pointing at each signal as they approach it and declaiming out loud the aspect displayed. I also visited the huge main line station which, even late at night was thronged with people. Eventually, I returned safely to my hotel to prepare for the organised private tour the following day.

First, we went to the Ming Tombs, out in the country, where successive emperors were buried. The scale of the place is impressive, particularly the underground tomb chambers. There were plenty of tourists, both Chinese and overseas visitors. Next, a visit to a Chinese 'hospital'. Coachloads of tourists were arriving for a brief consultation with a Chinese doctor, resulting in the prescribing of various herbal remedies on sale in the adjacent dispensary. Diagnosis is principally by the taking of the pulse on both wrists simultaneously, together with a careful assessment of the patient's appearance. The male doctor only spoke Chinese but a 'nurse' was on hand to translate the doctor's comments. The Chinese idea of 'chi' flowing through 'meridians' in the body is contrary to Western medicine, but the effectiveness of some Chinese techniques is slowly being accepted in the West. We then moved on to a factory where Cloisonne work was being produced. It's a fascinating and very labour-intensive process and I was happy to make some small purchases before being whisked away to see the Great Wall of China, where we arrived late afternoon.

All the pictures I'd seen of the Wall didn't prepare me for the sheer scale of the construction, as it snaked away into the distance following the contours of the exceptionally hilly terrain. In many places, the Wall has been lost or is in a poor state of repair but here, North of Beijing, a lot of work has been carried out and this is the section of the Wall that the majority of tourists see. I would have been content to have spent a lot longer walking the Wall: most tourists are happy to walk a few hundred yards and return so it's fairly easy to get to quieter spots where you can readily imagine the patrols charged with guarding the empire, so many centuries ago.

I took an internal flight to the city of Xian (pronounced 'see-ann'), which is a major modern city with an ancient core still surrounded by a massive brick-built wall. After studying the walls, which have survived remarkably well, we travelled through the noisy, bustling city to the quiet of a Bhuddist monastery. Helped by the number of visitors, they have been able to fund a new temple, built in the traditional style. The other attraction is the medieval Big Wild Goose Pagoda which you can ascend, on payment of a modest fee. From the top level, there is a marvellous panorama of the city.

I spent one night in a very pleasant Western-style hotel in the suburbs, before moving on to view the Terracotta Army. The Emperor Qin ('chin') prepared a huge mausoleum for himself during his lifetime, with thousands of clay soldiers, life size, to guard his remains. This prototype strong man of China was so reviled that his body lay undisturbed for only a few years before the whole complex was sacked and burnt. The extent of the works were forgotten until a few years ago, when three farmers digging a well started to uncover fragments of the soldiers. There are already three different museum buildings covering the excavations so far. The largest is built like an aircraft hanger, filled with excavated trenches containing rank after rank of clay soldiers. Each soldier's head was individually modelled and, originally, painted. Most of the figures currently on display have a brownish, clay appearance. It is a truly amazing site. My visit was out of season and I was able to get around the museums quite easily. But, be warned, I'm told it can be a real scrum at the height of the season. The international airport at Xian was built specifically so that China could exploit the tourist potential of the Terracotta Army. I also visited a factory in Xian where they produce wonderful furniture and, in various scales, models of the terracotta warriors using the local clay. I was so impressed, I arranged for the firm to ship back a full-size kneeling archer and full-size senior officer. These replicas invariably attract a lot of interest when people visit me.

Then on again, by another internal flight to the city of Chungking, where I arrived late at night. I think Chungking is currently the largest city in the world, as people leave the poverty of the countryside to try to achieve a better standard of living in the city. China's remarkable growth rates are being fuelled by this flight from agriculture but life in manufacturing is very tough, by Western standards.

We drove through the city to the banks of the Yangtse River, where I was to join a cruise ship for a trip through the Three Gorges. There's a series of concrete steps leading down to the water's edge, difficult to negotiate in the dark when you're tired. Worse was the very insubstantial-looking duckboards stretching right out into the river, ending at the brightly-lit cruise ship. Members of the crew were positioned on the duckboards every so often, holding rather ineffective electric torches by way of encouragement. At least my luggage was brought out for me. The ship, the 'Pinghu' was modern and spacious and within a few minutes I was able to collapse in my very decent cabin, re-united with my luggage.

Next morning, we bade farewell to Chungking and slipped our moorings to cruise downstream to the Three Gorges. It was raining and a heavy mist lay over everything, but I braved to upper deck to see what could be seen. The rain continued for quite a bit of the journey - it was certainly atmospheric, even if perhaps I didn't see the Three Gorges at their best. I hadn't realised that the Yangtze is such a vital communications artery in this part of China. The river traffic was amazing with large and small vessels of all descriptions. There is a wide variety of passenger ferries and quite large cargo vessels. The oddest and fastest vessels are perhaps the hydrofoil ferries, which appear to follow the Russian design, looking more like an aircraft with the 'fuselage' set in a sit-up-and-beg attitude on the hydroplanes. These noisy craft overtake everything on the river, throwing up a huge plume of spray at the stern. Quite a lot of coal is loaded into barges for river transport - the working practices would shock a European Heath and Safety Inspector. All sorts of towns are visible, mainly of modern construction. Once the dam is in service, the river level will rise to inundate most of the adjacent land, so newer towns have been built on higher land. I got a better look at this when we tied up for a shore visit.

We left the ship by the usual duckboards leading to the shore and were taken by bus to an ancient temple on high ground. Looking down towards the river, we could see a moonscape, where the old town was being demolished, a bleak vista of great lumps of broken cement, all covered in dust. When we returned to river level, I walked in the old town where hundreds of workmen were engaged in the demolition work. Although there were a few machines involved in the work, most of the demolition was being done by hand. I saw men precariously balanced on the remaining parts of the building under attack, flailing at the structure with large hammers. The rubble and reclained material is loaded onto large lorries, often by hand, and carried away in a swirl of concrete dust. After a day working in these conditions, the men eat and sleep in home-made tents dotted around the site. This was just one town - this pattern is being repeated all along the length of river affected by the dam project. The scale of the project is enormous.

Let's break off there, cruising down part of the Yangtze, longest river in Asia, third longest in the world. The rest of the trip was described (but not until 2020!) in the post China (part 2).

My pictures of the 2002 trip

Beijing, China
Xian, China
Yangtse River, China

[Link to part 2 added, pictures linked 26-Nov-2020]