Tall Tales

[69843]

All this talk of rough riding reminds me of a story a car dealership out here might rather forget....

 

 

With the Indian Pacific coming on line for 1970 as the first true cross-country train in Australia, naturally there was a lot of build up, including plenty of media coverage as well as some test runs.

 

 

The story I've been told is that Rolls Royce (or a local dealer of) arranged for a brand new Silver Shadow to be placed on the motorail wagon during these runs with other cars also present. To keep cleaner than being exposed to the dust, the Silver Shadow was placed on the lower deck of the wagon. Anyhow the train did a return trial to Melbourne and then immediately did another, so it ended up doing 4 960km (600mi) trips on this wagon. Upon completion of this, the cars were rolled off the wagon, including a certain Rolls.....complete with large dents in the roof.

 

It turns out that while the wheels had been secured in the normal method, no-one had thought to secure the body to stop it floating around on the soft suspension, resulting in some expensive red faces.

[The Johnster]

In 1971, when I was 19, I stayed with a friend who had been over to ours on an exchange that wasn't an exchange from France, by which I mean I never got to go to France to learn French paid for by the school, but showed Jean-Paul round my own patch.  This resulted in an invite to spend a week with him and his family, who lived in a flat in the northern suburbs of Paris.  He returned the favour of showing me around the patch with a very late and not entirely sober night out on the Left Bank, and most enjoyable it was for a 19 year old as well.  It was a very warm and fine summer night and we decided to walk home, for the hell of it, to save the taxi fare, and to have some chance to not be too disgraceful when we got in.

 

The walk was about 4 or 5 miles, probably 6 counting the weaving and unsteadiness, but no problem to fit young lads, took about 2 hours, and was for much of it's length along a long straight suburban artery which was deserted except for the odd taxi or truck, and must have been build by Napoleon if not the Romans, both were big fans of making roads long, straight, and boring.  It ran parallel to and to the west of the Nord main line, and trains could be heard rattling up and down this about half a mile away, but not visible behind a high brick wall.  We kept ourselves entertained in our drunken way and were enjoying the adventure.  I'm given to understand that this is a pretty rough area nowadays, but no problem then, we hardly saw anyone!  It was pretty much a working area of factories and small and probably slightly dodgy industry, a bit run down and scruffy, the sort of place where the van driver checks who's watching before he opens the back doors and looks a bit furtive; much of South London looked similar and I imagine a good bit of the East End as well.

 

About 3 miles out, we came to a wire gate in the interminable wall, and of course I had to stop and have a squiz at the railway behind the wall, though not knowing much about matters SNCF was not expecting to be able to make sense of it.  There were rows of buffers stretching into the distant darkness on each side of a roadway leading in from the gate to some workshop looking buildings, and up against these buffers were rakes of passenger stock; I was clearly looking at the Nord's main carriage depot and sidings, with various types of main line and suburban coaches of varying ages visible; a more knowledgeable bloke would have got a lot more out the experience.

 

But, joy of joy and wonder of wonders, on the outside road to the left just inside the gate was a familiar sight; a Southern Railway PMV with air brakes and the ferry 'anchor' branding, in the usual unlined filth livery, presumably off the 'Night Ferry' but here alone and a bit abandoned.  Fairly freshly painted and plainly visible even in the half light of an August dawn, though, was the branding 'Not To Work Between Kensington Olympia And North Pole Junction'

 

Jean Paul was amused at, though uncomprehending, of the drunk Welsh boy on the pavement doing the dying fly in tears of helpless laughter at the sheer absurdity and magic of it all!  One of my abiding railway memories and still able to generate a smile as I write!

Edited August 17, 2017 by The Johnster

[Danemouth]

I've really enjoyed this thread but never having worked on the railway didn't think I had anything to contribute. Then I remembered ....

 

When I moved to North Cardiff, for a couple of years around 1997 I commuted from Birchgrove to Cardiff Queen St. Birchgrove is on the single track Coryton branch coming off the double track Caerphilly line at Heath low level, with six stations. The service was roughly half hourly.

 

One evening I went for the train and it was running very late, only a few minutes in front of the next Coryton train. We pile on the train and  of we go. When we get to the second station on the branch, Ty Glas, the conductor shouts out that control wants all the passengers to detrain and our train to start its return journey. We would catch the next train which is now sat on the Caerphilly line waiting to come onto the branch thereby blocking the Caerphilly trains.

 

He then says "You've refused haven't you?" we all shout "Yes". he tells control and the train proceeds all the way to Coryton.

 

The branch is described in an out of print book "The Cardiff Railway" by Eric Mountford, there's a lovely picture of Birchgrove Halt taken in 1958 with a Prairie 6614 and a 5 coach suburban train.

 

Dave

[Fat Controller]

In 1971, when I was 19, I stayed with a friend who had been over to ours on an exchange that wasn't an exchange from France, by which I mean I never got to go to France to learn French paid for by the school, but showed Jean-Paul round my own patch.  This resulted in an invite to spend a week with him and his family, who lived in a flat in the northern suburbs of Paris.  He returned the favour of showing me around the patch with a very late and not entirely sober night out on the Left Bank, and most enjoyable it was for a 19 year old as well.  It was a very warm and fine summer night and we decided to walk home, for the hell of it, to save the taxi fare, and to have some chance to not be too disgraceful when we got in.

 

The walk was about 4 or 5 miles, probably 6 counting the weaving and unsteadiness, but no problem to fit young lads, took about 2 hours, and was for much of it's length along a long straight suburban artery which was deserted except for the odd taxi or truck, and must have been build by Napoleon if not the Romans, both were big fans of making roads long, straight, and boring.  It ran parallel to and to the west of the Nord main line, and trains could be heard rattling up and down this about half a mile away, but not visible behind a high brick wall.  We kept ourselves entertained in our drunken way and were enjoying the adventure.  I'm given to understand that this is a pretty rough area nowadays, but no problem then, we hardly saw anyone!  It was pretty much a working area of factories and small and probably slightly dodgy industry, a bit run down and scruffy, the sort of place where the van driver checks who's watching before he opens the back doors and looks a bit furtive; much of South London looked similar and I imagine a good bit of the East End as well.

 

About 3 miles out, we came to a wire gate in the interminable wall, and of course I had to stop and have a squiz at the railway behind the wall, though not knowing much about matters SNCF was not expecting to be able to make sense of it.  There were rows of buffers stretching into the distant darkness on each side of a roadway leading in from the gate to some workshop looking buildings, and up against these buffers were rakes of passenger stock; I was clearly looking at the Nord's main carriage depot and sidings, with various types of main line and suburban coaches of varying ages visible; a more knowledgeable bloke would have got a lot more out the experience.

 

But, joy of joy and wonder of wonders, on the outside road to the left just inside the gate was a familiar sight; a Southern Railway PMV with air brakes and the ferry 'anchor' branding, in the usual unlined filth livery, presumably off the 'Night Ferry' but here alone and a bit abandoned.  Fairly freshly painted and plainly visible even in the half light of an August dawn, though, was the branding 'Not To Work Between Kensington Olympia And North Pole Junction'

 

Jean Paul was amused at, though uncomprehending, of the drunk Welsh boy on the pavement doing the dying fly in tears of helpless laughter at the sheer absurdity and magic of it all!  One of my abiding railway memories and still able to generate a smile as I write!

I wouldn't walk down there at night for a big clock.

The first set of walls were in front of La Chapelle MPD, the depot for all the passenger work on the former Nord lines. Lynne did a course at the SNCF training school on site; when I went to meet her one day, I noticed that the local hotels offered a one-hour daytime rate. A colleague on the same course nipped out to buy some cigarettes, without her bag with her ID papers, and was collared by the police.

The carriage sidings you describe are those at Le Landy, where TGVs and Eurostars are serviced- part of the site appears quite a lot in 1950s and '60s French films when an industrial ambience was required.

That branding on the ex-SR BY is obviously intended to stop it straying, as there were only three of them. In 1971 or 1972, I saw the last survivor at Swansea High Street, resplendent in BR (not Wagon-Lits) blue livery. 

[D854_Tiger]

I heard a story about a depot on the old Withered Arm.

 

A West Country had been sent out with an inexperienced fireman who unfortunately caught for some rather dodgy coal on the way home.

 

He had a hell of a time maintaining steam pressure, heading back to the depot, and had unfortunately shovelled in rather too much coal.

 

Once the locomotive had been put to bed, for the night, all that coal that had been so stubbornly refusing to burn, when needed, decided to do so.

 

Apparently, you could hear the locomotive blowing off all over the town and for most of the night.

[The Stationmaster]

I wouldn't walk down there at night for a big clock.

The first set of walls were in front of La Chapelle MPD, the depot for all the passenger work on the former Nord lines. Lynne did a course at the SNCF training school on site; when I went to meet her one day, I noticed that the local hotels offered a one-hour daytime rate. A colleague on the same course nipped out to buy some cigarettes, without her bag with her ID papers, and was collared by the police.

The carriage sidings you describe are those at Le Landy, where TGVs and Eurostars are serviced- part of the site appears quite a lot in 1950s and '60s French films when an industrial ambience was required.

That branding on the ex-SR BY is obviously intended to stop it straying, as there were only three of them. In 1971 or 1972, I saw the last survivor at Swansea High Street, resplendent in BR (not Wagon-Lits) blue livery. 

 

Distinctly nasty area nowadays Brian - from what i've heard it's gone even further down hill outside the railway fence than it had sunk to in the 1990s.

 

And there's 'Johnster' mentioning 1971 - the very year in which the Western Region, in their profound wisdom deported me to South Wales (which I actually rather enjoyed as things turned out except for traipsing across that ruddy field in pouring rain to get to Llandarcy shunting frame (ex signalbox) one night when called out to a derailment and I'd never even been to the place by road in daylight).  Quite an amusing evening crowned by the dumbo of a shunter not doing what I'd told him to do and, as a result, derailing the tank car we'd just re-railed and managing to get about 1 inch from where it had been derailed the first time.  That 1 inch was rather important as it meant the Landore breakdown gang, who fortunately hadn't left, knew exactly how to rerail as they'd already had practice and sorted the best way to do the job. 

[The Johnster]

I wouldn't walk down there at night for a big clock.

The first set of walls were in front of La Chapelle MPD, the depot for all the passenger work on the former Nord lines. Lynne did a course at the SNCF training school on site; when I went to meet her one day, I noticed that the local hotels offered a one-hour daytime rate. A colleague on the same course nipped out to buy some cigarettes, without her bag with her ID papers, and was collared by the police.

The carriage sidings you describe are those at Le Landy, where TGVs and Eurostars are serviced- part of the site appears quite a lot in 1950s and '60s French films when an industrial ambience was required.

That branding on the ex-SR BY is obviously intended to stop it straying, as there were only three of them. In 1971 or 1972, I saw the last survivor at Swansea High Street, resplendent in BR (not Wagon-Lits) blue livery. 

 

I wouldn't walk down there either, now, even for a Rolex Oyster, even in daylight never mind night.  Back in '71 it was just ordinary run down, seedy, and dodgy, not dangerous, I was well used to such areas from my train spotting days bunking sheds, and we saw hardly anyone the whole walk, and never felt in any way threatened or uncomfortable. I'd certainly been to parts of Liverpool and Bristol that were rougher.  You could probably have booked a room for an hour though, and the hotel would have probably been able to provide someone to keep you company in case you got lonely if you'd asked. But she'd have been a proper old fashioned clean and decent Paris working girl with a professional service industry attitude, not a crack whore.  There was no doubt plenty of baddery going on in tenements and lockups, but not out on the street and no concern of ours; one would be courting a stabbing at least nowadays and it is probably one of the most dangerous spots in Europe.  I doubt you'd get a taxi to drive through it even, in case it had to stop at traffic lights.  There are regular race riots and shoot outs with the rozzers or between gangs.  Jean Paul's family moved further out not long after my visit and I lost contact with him.

 

BY not PMV then.  It just seemed surreal and incredibly funny at the time, a moment of pure magic!  I like to think it is still there, quietly mouldering away and amusing the odd railway minded Brit passer by on hot summer nights after an evening on the Left Bank, but it probably isn't and there are certainly no railway minded Brit passers by, not for long anyway round there!

 

Not everything was better in the old days, but sometimes some of it wasn't as bad...

Edited August 18, 2017 by The Johnster

[manna]

G'Day Gents

Just reading another thread, about steam locos having a good thrash through Headingley! here's mine, having a normal day couple of trips to York via Harrogate, on the second trip back from York, with a little 141 unit, as we slowed down to stop at Headingley I opened the guards door, to see a heaving mass of humanity, the whole platform was covered, there must have been at least 500 people there!! where had they all come from :idea: The cricket :?: it must have just finished (England V Australia) but the problem was still there, How do you get 500 people on a 141, well you can't, I think we managed to get about 150 people and that was it, I think that we were so overloaded that we only managed about 40mph on the rest of the journey to Leeds :shock:

After a while at Leeds I was sent road learning again, but this time it was to Carlisle, as from Monday we spent 8 hours a day on a road learning DMU (101 or 108) going up and down with an instructor, we were also advised to buy a little green book all about the Settle and Carlisle, bridges, tunnels, stations etc, it certainly helped, and I kept it in my bag for a while, after I'd signed the line, What a wonderful line to work on (might have thought differently if we had broken down out in the middle of nowhere) I did a couple of trips on the older DMU's then we were trained on the new 156's, brand spanking new then, had one, one day that still had plastic sheet in the floor!! Anyway one Sunday an Inspector, collered me as I signed on, 'Guard' he said 'Today you will be taking two 156's to Carlisle, will you let us know how they fit on the platforms etc' I said that I would, and would let them know when I got back, this also being a one way trip, coming back on the cushions, there were no problems, although the back coach was often off the platform, so I was on the intercom at most stations, on arrival in Carlisle, I knew I was in for a long wait before we left for Leeds, so I had a look through the timetable, and bingo I could catch the next train to Lancaster I could then catch a train to Manchester and then to Leeds I'd be back 45 minutes earlier, so off I went, so there I am standing on Lancaster station, when a inspector comes walking up the platform to me and ask's me if I'm guard 'manna', I'm thinking what the heck!! then he says 'there's a phone call for you' now that really got me thinking, who the hell knows where I am, so I wanders back with the inspector, and he shows me the phone, so I picked it up and said 'Hello' and this voice comes back at me 'Hello this is Leeds control! how did you get on with the two 156's' How they figured where I was had me puzzled for a while, but nothing was ever said about my little wander round the North West frontier

manna

[terra-nova]

Another railway tall tale I heard was again nth hand and originated from the time that the drugs and alcohol screening programme was first introduced.

This caused a bit of concern to some people, although one worried member of staff thought he had a plan to outwit the test.

I don't know the exact method he used but it involved using a sample provided by his wife smuggled into the medical centre.

Test duly completed, the results were received which confirmed that the member of staff was clear, ......and hoped that congratulations were in order as he was pregnant.

I'm sure that somebody on RMWEB will know the true origin of this story

[manna]

G'Day Gents

BR in there wisdom, said that because I was a Good boy and did'nt crash to to many of there trains, that I could learn some of there more exotic locations, so off I went to Hull? more road learning, four or five trips a day between Selby and Hull for a week or so and your willing to sign anything!! and for most of the day, you spend more time talking to the Trolly Dollies than collecting tickets etc 'cos, nearly everybody had one, and so it went on, Hull,--- Man Picc, easy days, then I must have upset somebody really high up, do'nt remember kicking anyone off with a gold pass! because I then had to road learn Man Vic to Liverpool, all them stations! one every 300yds, or so it seemed, now it was Man Vic-to Liverpool, up and back, up and back, but at least I was with another guard, so you had someone to talk to, so a typical day was, get on the Newcastle-Liverpool train, quick trip to L/pool, breakfast, in a small cafe just down the road from Lime St, then a trip to Man Vic and back, lunch, then a trip to Earlestown and back, then a walk round L/pool, then another fast trip back to Leeds, but we were filling note books full of notes, signal locations cross overs etc, well one day during a walk round L/pool we found our selves at (I think) St Georges Hall which was being renovated and was full of workmen, now my friend was a organ freak (of the noisy type) so into the Hall he marches and finds the foreman, he only has one small request, can he play the hall organ! (me, I'm looking for a hole) after a short wait the foreman agrees, to his request, but sends a workman with us, (not sure he really trusted us), after a short walk involving a few stairs, there we are in this organ gallery,20' up in the air, my mate plonks himself down on a padded bench and looks at this massive keyboard, full of black and white keys and a equal number of stops, he then starts pushing buttons, winding levers, pulling stops out and pushing others in, after a couple of minutes he starts to play-------- that stopped all work in the hall, all the drills stopped, all the saws stopped ,I saw the foreman standing in the middle of the hall looking up at the organ, I don't think he thought my mate could play the organ (I did'nt) after 30 minutes of a Royal Wedding organ music, he stopped, turning round there was 60 workmen all standing there---- clapping??? he gave a bow, turned everything off and left, back to road learning, a nice little interlude to an otherwise boring two weeks, the following Monday we signed the Liverpool route, guess what happen then, Yep, L/pool, L/pool and more L/pool :x

manna

[The Stationmaster]

Another railway tall tale I heard was again nth hand and originated from the time that the drugs and alcohol screening programme was first introduced.

This caused a bit of concern to some people, although one worried member of staff thought he had a plan to outwit the test.

I don't know the exact method he used but it involved using a sample provided by his wife smuggled into the medical centre.

Test duly completed, the results were received which confirmed that the member of staff was clear, ......and hoped that congratulations were in order as he was pregnant.

I'm sure that somebody on RMWEB will know the true origin of this story

 

Completely apocryphal and born of wishful thinking I reckon.  The whole point with drug and alcohol testing was that the contractor involved took the sample at the workplace along with various signatures and there were also two samples in case of any problems or arguments so no way could that have been done unless it was some sloppy tuppenny ha'penny place that shouldn't have had the job.

 

Best one I know about drug testing was at my final employer where a significant portion of on-train staff were required to speak Flemish.  No it isn't easy to find people who speak Flemish, particularly in England, so at various times when recruiting drives were on we got numbers of Dutch people turning up.  But oddly most of them failed their medicals because they didn't realise that when they gave a sample it was not only being tested for drugs but also cannabis leaves traces for quite a few days after it has last been smoked - they apparently thought they were being clever, the drug analysts were a lot brighter than they thought.

[The Johnster]

I've really enjoyed this thread but never having worked on the railway didn't think I had anything to contribute. Then I remembered ....

 

When I moved to North Cardiff, for a couple of years around 1997 I commuted from Birchgrove to Cardiff Queen St. Birchgrove is on the single track Coryton branch coming off the double track Caerphilly line at Heath low level, with six stations. The service was roughly half hourly.

 

One evening I went for the train and it was running very late, only a few minutes in front of the next Coryton train. We pile on the train and  of we go. When we get to the second station on the branch, Ty Glas, the conductor shouts out that control wants all the passengers to detrain and our train to start its return journey. We would catch the next train which is now sat on the Caerphilly line waiting to come onto the branch thereby blocking the Caerphilly trains.

 

He then says "You've refused haven't you?" we all shout "Yes". he tells control and the train proceeds all the way to Coryton.

 

The branch is described in an out of print book "The Cardiff Railway" by Eric Mountford, there's a lovely picture of Birchgrove Halt taken in 1958 with a Prairie 6614 and a 5 coach suburban train.

 

Dave

 

That sounds like par for the course Coryton branch style.  

 

I once worked a rather poorly class 116 dmu up here, only 2 engines out of 4 working as we left Canton and another one dropped out as we got on to the branch at Heath Junction.  Luckily it is flat from there to Coryton, but when the driver changed ends at Coryton he found he couldn't drive from that end at all.  A bit of faffing did no good, and there was nothing for it but to propel back to Heath and tell control (no mobiles in those days, once away from Heath you were on your own).  Me, the guard, sat in the front cab bell-signalling the driver who drove the train from the rear cab.  He got hold of Control at Heath Junction box, still open then, and we were told to run a shuttle between there and Coryton as close as we could to the timetable until they could get a loco or a set to assist us, and to approach Heath Low Level under caution in case it was there waiting for us (the Coryton branch is dead straight except for the approach to Heath.

 

On the second propelling trip I could no longer resist leaving the driver's seat to sell tickets, just to see their faces!  It was a bright clear afternoon and not a terribly dangerous game to play (though you'd be up the road before tea time if you tried it now!).  'It's the new single manning agreement', I told them, 'cost cutting, you know'.

 

On the third trip a 37 was waiting to take us on to Queen Street, Central, and eventually Canton, the only time I ever worked a dmu rescued by a loco.

[D854_Tiger]

Spike Milligan always used to tell a story about one of his comrades that had been demobbed, following the conclusion of WW2. He had finished his time in service out in India and, like many others out there, had been unfortunate enough to suffer the ravages of dysentery.

 

Now apparently, the symptoms of dysentery can exacerbate somewhat slowly, attacks from nowhere can still occur sometime long after you may have thought you were over it. These attacks can give no warning and the consequences are often virtually impossible to manage, disastrous and come complete with a truly vile stench. 

 

Sure enough, this particular unfortunate chap was making his way on foot from a job interview in London, back to Victoria station, when the inevitable happened. He was desperate and struck upon the bright idea of rushing into the nearest department store, in order to purchase fresh clothes, mainly of the trouser variety.

 

He quickly picked up the first pair of trousers he could find and not wishing to linger (the smell), quickly paid whilst, for obvious reasons, keeping as much distance between himself and the till as possible. He grabbed the bag, containing his purchase, as soon as was humanly possible (which for a human in his condition was very quickly indeed) then smartly removed himself from the store and made his way to Victoria station, whereupon he was highly relieved to find a train waiting ready to depart.

 

Straight onto the train and into the first toilet, he set about a clean up operation, all the time eyes watering from the terrible smell.

 

The soiled trousers were immediately discarded out of the train window, of what was by now a moving train, he then cleaned up as best he could (within the limitations of a train toilet) before finally reaching into the bag, containing his recent purchase, and pulling out a ladies pink cardigan.

[The Johnster]

I suffered an unfortunate event of this sort while using the urinal in a notorious Cardiff club many years ago, the legendary 'New Moon' club.  Being in a suitable place already, I retreated to a cubicle to re-arrange myself to the best of my ability, and managed to deal with the worst of it fairly well, considering (there was a little more space than in a train toilet, but much less light), but it was clear that my underpants were beyond redemption and were, in fact, a goner, or perhaps a pair of goners, and I was going to have to dispose of them and spend the rest of the evening going 'commando' and taking the greatest possible care in the matter of Newcastle Brown Ale induced flatulence.  But what to do with the underpants?  I didn't want to take them back out of the cubicle, because a) they were extremely unpleasant, and b) there were by now other punters in the toilet and I didn't especially wish to advertise my predicament. 

 

Putting them down the loo was the first option, but I rejected that on the grounds that it would have probably blocked and anyone seeing me exit would have known who was responsible; I was, as I say, not feeling very proud of myself.  So I opened the small window to the outside (this was 4 floors above street level) and put them on the window ledge, shut the window, made a sort of temporary emergency pair of undies out of toilet paper, left the cubicle, washed my hands and carried on; I'd got away with it!

 

I was in there again (you'd have thought I'd have learned, but no) a few weeks later and, whilst again using the urinal, curiosity began to get the better of me.  As soon as I'd finished, I had to go into the cubicle to see if they were still there.  This question remained unanswered, because they'd bricked the window up...

 

The building was demolished a couple of years later.

[Classsix T]

Spike Milligan always used to tell a story about one of his comrades that had been demobbed, following the conclusion of WW2. He had finished his time in service out in India and, like many others out there, had been unfortunate enough to suffer the ravages of dysentery.

 

Now apparently, the symptoms of dysentery can exacerbate somewhat slowly, attacks from nowhere can still occur sometime long after you may have thought you were over it. These attacks can give no warning and the consequences are often virtually impossible to manage, disastrous and come complete with a truly vile stench.

 

Sure enough, this particular unfortunate chap was making his way on foot from a job interview in London, back to Victoria station, when the inevitable happened. He was desperate and struck upon the bright idea of rushing into the nearest department store, in order to purchase fresh clothes, mainly of the trouser variety.

 

He quickly picked up the first pair of trousers he could find and not wishing to linger (the smell), quickly paid whilst, for obvious reasons, keeping as much distance between himself and the till as possible. He grabbed the bag, containing his purchase, as soon as was humanly possible (which for a human in his condition was very quickly indeed) then smartly removed himself from the store and made his way to Victoria station, whereupon he was highly relieved to find a train waiting ready to depart.

 

Straight onto the train and into the first toilet, he set about a clean up operation, all the time eyes watering from the terrible smell.

 

The soiled trousers were immediately discarded out of the train window, of what was by now a moving train, he then cleaned up as best he could (within the limitations of a train toilet) before finally reaching into the bag, containing his recent purchase, and pulling out a ladies pink cardigan.

Yeah, that'uns done the rounds more than once. The version I'd heard involved a desperate leap for a pair of jeans and discovery of a denim jacket in the shopping bag.

Never held much truck with this story though,purely because carriage bog windows don't open, and why would you exit the lav,discard the pebbledashed strides out the nearest droplight then return to the bog to administer apparel normality.

 

Still, TALL tales is the name of the game.

 

C6T.

[manna]

G'Day Gents

 

After the last story, my mate dragged me around the new cathedral, but they would'nt let him have a go at the organ, so we took a taxi to Hattons instead, killed an hour!

Anyway,One of the things that was going down the plughole even in the early 90's was loco hauled trains, I did,nt work (as a guard) many but there was a few, signed on at Leeds one summer saturday, to find out that I was booked to work a 'Skeggie' to Doncaster, 9 Mk 1's and a 47, nice change from 142's etc, only one stop at Wakefield, nice easy run and about half full at 'Donny' plenty of buckets and spades

Another day I had worked a DMU to Sheffield, ( via Barnsley) when we got there, the unit was pinched, to go to Manchester, so I had my break and wandered back to the platform, No train, time of departure, still no train! then there's an announcement over the loudspeaker, that the train to Leeds was running 10 mins late, fair enough it happens! then in rolls a class 37 and three or four coaches, This was the Leeds train!!! all stations via Barnsley, except Castleford, (no run round) Well that was the best trip I ever had over the line, all the passengers commented that it was a lot better than the usual trains?? I also reckon the driver was on his way home, 'cos we made up the lost time and got to Leeds early, but I did get a talking to at Normanton by an inspector, because I waved the driver away with my hand instead of using my green flag :!: :!:

manna

[Coryton]

That sounds like par for the course Coryton branch style.  

 

I once worked a rather poorly class 116 dmu up here, only 2 engines out of 4 working as we left Canton and another one dropped out as we got on to the branch at Heath Junction.  Luckily it is flat from there to Coryton, but when the driver changed ends at Coryton he found he couldn't drive from that end at all.  A bit of faffing did no good, and there was nothing for it but to propel back to Heath and tell control (no mobiles in those days, once away from Heath you were on your own).  Me, the guard, sat in the front cab bell-signalling the driver who drove the train from the rear cab.  He got hold of Control at Heath Junction box, still open then, and we were told to run a shuttle between there and Coryton as close as we could to the timetable until they could get a loco or a set to assist us, and to approach Heath Low Level under caution in case it was there waiting for us (the Coryton branch is dead straight except for the approach to Heath.

 

On the second propelling trip I could no longer resist leaving the driver's seat to sell tickets, just to see their faces!  It was a bright clear afternoon and not a terribly dangerous game to play (though you'd be up the road before tea time if you tried it now!).  'It's the new single manning agreement', I told them, 'cost cutting, you know'.

 

On the third trip a 37 was waiting to take us on to Queen Street, Central, and eventually Canton, the only time I ever worked a dmu rescued by a loco.

 

It turns out that a 150 on only one engine can manage the Coryton branch/City line and just about keep to the timetable, as I discovered last week.

 

It's a good thing it's summer though - in the morning the carriage with the dead engine had the lights on emergency (one in three on) - by the time I came home in the afternoon there were no lights in there (does each carriage have a separate battery?).

 

Some might say a 150 with an engine down is an improvement over the usual Pacers...

[Coryton]

G'Day Gents

Just reading another thread, about steam locos having a good thrash through Headingley! here's mine, having a normal day couple of trips to York via Harrogate, on the second trip back from York, with a little 141 unit, as we slowed down to stop at Headingley I opened the guards door, to see a heaving mass of humanity, the whole platform was covered, there must have been at least 500 people there!! where had they all come from :idea: The cricket :?: it must have just finished (England V Australia) but the problem was still there, How do you get 500 people on a 141, well you can't, I think we managed to get about 150 people and that was it, I think that we were so overloaded that we only managed about 40mph on the 

 

 

Ah yes.

 

I took a photo (some years back) of a similar crowd trying to get on a first generation DMU at Headingley.

 

I didn't notice at the time, but the photo showed a passenger climbing into the rear cab. Once way to find some space, I suppose....

[Coryton]

He then says "You've refused haven't you?" we all shout "Yes". he tells control and the train proceeds all the way to Coryton.

 

Hmmm. 

 

I've never been that lucky.

 

I recently got thrown off at Heath (which is right at the start of a branch line) because the windscreen wipers in the front cab had failed. Fair enough.

 

But we all had to stand there in the rain (some of us fitted in the shelter) while it sat there waiting for its path back to Cardiff.

 

It's a bit of a shame we couldn't have waited in the train. It ran back in service, not ECS, presumably because the windscreen wipers were working at the other end.

[The Johnster]

Hmm.  Technically the train is out of service and unfit or safe for occupation by passengers until the driver changes ends, at which time it is fit for service and passengers.  I think you were treated a bit harshly, but of course the rules may have changed since my time.  Of course you had to wait at Heath Low Level after it had departed back down the hill for the next Coryton train to take you to your destinations anyway. 

 

I think I might have gone for a quick one in the 3 Arches...

[br2975]

It turns out that a 150 on only one engine can manage the Coryton branch/City line and just about keep to the timetable, as I discovered last week.

 

 

Some might say a 150 with an engine down is an improvement over the usual Pacers...

 

Try telling this to my wife - go on !

.

Her, and my, experience dictates that whenever a problem arises on the City Line, Valley Lines Control make it their mission in life to turn back Radyr bound services at Ninian Park and let the peasants from the west of the city fend for themselves.

.

This is compounded by ATW platform staff on 6 &7 being less than communicative and instead of telling the growing throng of disgruntled punters their train is caped, just announce.....  "Your Ninian Park service, Platform 7 - Ninian Park only Platform 7".............no advice for those poor sods travelling to Waungron Park, Fairwater and Danescourt .....(Radyr punters have learned, through experience, to use Aberdare / Treherbert and Merthyr trains and avoid the City Line).

.

Hopefully, whoever wins the next franchise will improve the flow of information to the people that matter.

.

I won't hold my breath.

Edited August 25, 2017 by br2975

[br2975]

In a former life, I policed the Canton area of Cardiff and found out my eccentric Inspector was a closet 'Hoover' fan.

.

He would regularly call me up to 'r.v' and take him to 'check the power' at Canton depot, where we had a generated a tea stop in the servicing shed, and hoped to find a 50 on shed .

.

One Sunday morning, having gone through the 'day book', washed the pandas, cleaned the nick and checked the station equipment the Inspector and I arrive at Canton depot scrounging a cuppa, only to be told by our friend (we'll call him Alan) "I've got to do a run up on this 37 if you fancy a ride ?"..................."is the Pope catholic ? Do fat babies f*rt ?"

.

Eventually the three of us cram into the cab of a newly converted heavyweight 37/7 and trundle up to the west inlet, next to the main entrance to the depot (not the footbridge) and we change ends.

 

Alan takes the drivers seat, my Inspector the second mans seat and I'm stood in the cab doorway behind the second mans seat....taking in the fresh air.

 

As the line falls sharply, there's little need for much throttle.........................and we roll along as a bus load of enthusiasts empties and the camera toting mob run to snap this new product of Crewe Works, with no interest in the uniforms in the cab.

.

My Inspector ( eccentric was an understatement),  looks over his shoulder and shouts to me, still in the cab door ".............for god's sake, try looking a bit professional, put your f******g helmet on !"

.

Brian R

 

EDIT:- These events were thirty years ago, yet during December 2016 I happened upon a Canton TMD get together in a Cardiff branch of the J.D.Wetherspoon chain; and was amazed to be recognised by several former Canton men, who also asked after my former Inspector, everyone asking "Is he still as daft........?"

Edited August 25, 2017 by br2975

[Coryton]

Try telling this to my wife - go on !

.

Her, and my, experience dictates that whenever a problem arises on the City Line, Valley Lines Control make it their mission in life to turn back Radyr bound services at Ninian Park and let the peasants from the west of the city fend for themselves.

.

This is compounded by ATW platform staff on 6 &7 being less than communicative and instead of telling the growing throng of disgruntled punters their train is caped, just announce.....  "Your Ninian Park service, Platform 7 - Ninian Park only Platform 7".............no advice for those poor sods travelling to Waungron Park, Fairwater and Danescourt .....(Radyr punters have learned, through experience, to use Aberdare / Treherbert and Merthyr trains and avoid the City Line).

.

Hopefully, whoever wins the next franchise will improve the flow of information to the people that matter.

.

I won't hold my breath.

 

If it's any consolation, ATW seem to feel much the same about the Coryton end of the line. If you're lucky they announce the decision to turn them back at Ty Glas just before the train pulls in to Queen Street rather than once it's left.

 

I've no complaints with the announcements at Queen Street though - I think they do a good job with the information they have.

 

I sometimes think the Radyr to Coryton service is a bit of an embarrassment to them. If they can't run it for any reason they just tell you to use Cardiff Bus. Sometimes they mention that train tickets will be accepted on the busses. There's never much information on which bus to catch of where from. And it's not much use if you're travelling between stations on the Coryton branch rather than to or from Cardiff though. 

 

Ah yes - then there was the time a Pacer sat down in the Northbound platform in Queen Street and refused to budge (platform 1 - before the extra platforms opened and the consequent renumbering). They finally got it moving - just - and we were told it would be put into the "sidings" at Heath. Despite my protests I was assured that there was indeed a siding there and I suppose there is, if you consider the Coryton branch to be a long siding. 

 

Probably the best they could do in the circumstances, but I didn't believe their assurances that the Coryton train behind was going to make it to its destination and got a taxi instead (I was in a bit of a hurry of course).

[br2975]

 

I sometimes think the Radyr to Coryton service is a bit of an embarrassment to them. If they can't run it for any reason they just tell you to use Cardiff Bus. Sometimes they mention that train tickets will be accepted on the busses. There's never much information on which bus to catch of where from. And it's not much use if you're travelling between stations on the Coryton branch rather than to or from Cardiff though. 

 

 

I accept that operational decisions made by Valley Line Control have to be explained to the public by ATW platform staff, BUT...............................

 

My experience, and despite being a regular traveller and lifelong enthusiast had no idea what the garbled announcement of  "fare acceptance is in force, fare acceptance is in force" meant, and neither did my wife, a commuter, or any of the other dozens waiting on Platform 7.

.

Industry jargon can be lost on outsiders

[manna]

G'day Gents

 

 

 

Well I'v still got a few tales to tell, so I might as well get them out, One dark night, two railwaymen were sitting on a 142 at Bradford 'Forster Sq' waiting to go home, the driver was revving up his racing 142 waiting for the green light! when the signal changed to GO, and off we stormed, ECS to Leeds, at we rounded the bend just outside Bradford the signal went back to red, we stopped and the driver got up to call the signalman, on his return he imformed me that there were some people up ahead chucking things off of the bridges that we had to pass under, well we thought it a good idea to slow the racing 142 down a tad, the driver opened the controller a tad and we rolled along at about 20mph, looking for trouble, and we found it, just as we rolled under a bridge BONGGG!! something big hit the windscreen and was gone, no broken glass, nothing sliding off the roof, we just looked at each other in the dark 'What the..!!!' the driver floored the racing 142 to the next signal, and quickly reported what had happened to the signalman, who reported this to control, who reported this to the police, who (sounds like a owl story........ who-who) had been touring the area looking for these ....little darlings! and the cops got them, still waiting at the bridge for the next train, little did they know, we were the LAST TRAIN? What they had done was to tie a rope to a 44 gallon plastic drum and tie that to a lampost, and just as the train came under the bridge, Drop it! the train then hit the drum and the drum sailed up in the air after being, landing back on the bridge, the train crew only saw the drum for a second of so!!! After that we raced back to Leeds, home and bed

 

Another night I was sitting in the back cab of a 156 unit when there was this banging sound coming from under the train (we were passing Hessel near Hull) and showers of sparks were coming out the back of the train, so I called the driver to let him know what was going on, His reply was 'Ah don't worry, were just run over a shopping trolly??) We were in Hull in a few minutes, so there was a fitter at hand to check the unit out, no damage, but it gives you a bit of a fright when you hear ballast hitting the underside of your train :mrgreen:

 

manna