Confessions of a Canton goods guard

[The Johnster]

It has been suggested by a contributor to this site that I should record some of my experiences of working on the railway in the 70s for posterity, as the current railway is very different both in it's working methods and it's culture (there are no guards anymore), and the technology is much improved.  I am probably not worthy, and I would ask you to be patient with my lapses of memory, and will no doubt annoy Mike Stationmaster who will proably have plenty of my mistakes to correct, for which I will be grateful.  Some of it will be opinion, but I will try to flag this up when I am aware of it.

 

So, as a sort of introduction and first installment:-

 

At the age of 19 in the spring of the year 1971, I was in a bit of a quandry.  I had failed my A levels and my planned university career was never going to happen, my dad had refused to tolerate supporting me for resits and evicted me so I had to go somewhere and earn a living, and I'd had a go at the Civil Service but hated it, the dullness and office politics.  I didn't really know what to do with myself, and my life might have been a bit different if I had.  A major regret is not taking up an offer from my Geology teacher who had contacts in the British Antarctic Survey; I could have gone down there on a two year lab technician contract and come back with some useful experience and enough money to set myself up with a house and no mortgage.  But I wanted to drink beer and dance with girls, and only one of those things was available on the Great White Continent...

 

BR was experiencing a shortage of goods guards at that time, and recruiting 'off the street'.  They had lost a lot of the old hands over the previous couple of years by redundancy settlements, expecting the job to require less staffing in the wake of the introduction of the single-manning of fully fitted goods trains by drivers, with more of these trains appearing as the move to fully fitted block freight working progressed, but the union, the NUR, had managed to sway the 'company' into accepting guards on fully fitted goods trains in order to act as secondmen during light engine movements and to continue to be responsible for the protection of the train in the rear with detonators should this be necessary. 

 

This caught Cardiff Area (and no doubt others) off-guard (sorry, that was unforgiveable), and a hasty recruitment drive coupled with training courses were arranged.  I saw the advertisment in the sitsvac of the Western Mail, and, though a combination of a longstanding railway enthusiasm and a paucity of creative imagination, applied.  I recieved a letter the following morning (they're keen, I thought) to attend for an interview and medical examination at Marland House at 15.00 that day, a Friday, this being main area office opposite the old Cardiff bus station, now demolished; it's replacement, the monolithic Brunel House behind Queen Street station, was under construction at that time.

 

The interview was pretty easy going, Area Manager (his name is lost in the mists) and Guard's Inspector, Mr Lloyd, mostly concerned with my having had any family precedents on the railway that they could check out as a sort of character reference, and a few basic questions about what I expected from the job and pointing out the insane hours of duty, how would I get in to work, I had a car.  They accepted my English O level as proof of literacy and gave me some simple arithmetic problems to solve, mental HTU and fractions & decimal/long division on paper.  The medical was a bit more serious; their doctor was not bothered by my glasses, though that would have prevented my joining a footplate line of promotion, but my blood pressure, lung expansion, reflexes, balance, and colour sight were given a bit of a going over.  I remember a colour test looking down a tube intended to replicate sighting a semaphore signal oil lamp at night from a distance of a mile, a barely visible dot of dim light and you had to say what colour it was showing, and there were tiny silhouettes, actually based on the sight testing signals on the M&SWJ embankment at Swindon with which I was already familiar; the doctor was quite impressed when I pointed this out!  There was also a fairly tough 'pick out the dots' colour test.

 

Following morning (still keen!) I had a letter telling me to report to the Train Crew Manager at Canton the following Monday at 09.00, with a photocopy hand-drawn plan of how to access the depot office block and where I was allowed to park my car.  Presumably I'd satisfied the medical requirements, but nobody ever said.  Given the latish timing of my interview and medical I suspect it had already been posted before I'd even got to Marland House.  But I was now a railwayman!

[The Johnster]

Wow, quite a response!  You lot need to get lives, seriously...

 

So, it's now the following Monday and I'm there on time, a bit lost in the signing on lobby, but I managed to work out that I was probably supposed to tell somebody who I was and why I was there at the roster clerk's window.  I was not expected, but one of the Train Crew Supervisors came out, took me downstairs to the main stores, part of the big Maintenance Shed building, and sorted me out a pair of heavy duty work gloves, a hi-viz waistcoat, and a button-up dust jacket.  He then took me around the walking routes to the running shed foreman's office, carriage shed, and DMU shed forman's office.  This took about an hour or so, and he then asked me if I had the proper equipment.  This one stymied me a little; how could I have the proper equipment, I'd only just got there and our visit to the stores had not turned up any more than the gloves, hi-viz, ad dust jacket (I was quite pleased with the dust jacket, it had the arrows of indecision embossed on the buttons.  Oh, if only the spotting gang could see me now!).

 

He suggested that I proceed to a certain stall in Cardiff's indoor market where I could purchase the proper equipment, that most essential of traincrew apparatus, a tea can.  He further suggested that I then go home, having bought this, as I'd been sprung on him and he had nothing for me to occupy myself with for the rest of that day, but could I turn up at 8 o'clock the following morning and he'd have 'something' for me.  Not the worst of starts.

 

So I showed up at 8 on the Tuesday at the roster clerks' window where a tall imposing chap with a fairly distincive nose was waiting for me in a shunter's cap, overalls, and a dust jacket much like mine but that had clearly seen a bit of action.   'You John Richards?', he asked, and when I confirmed that I was, indeed, that individual, 'come with me, then, and we'll show you some railway work, see if you like it'.  Now this was music to my ears.  He introduced himself as Ted Beecham, shunter, Penarth North Curve Yard, a place I'd neve heard of but which, as I soon found out, was not in Penarth but behind Canton Shed just to the south of Ninian Park Halt, between the Ninian Park-Grangetown line and the old Ninian Park football stadium where Cardiff City usually lost to other teams in those days.  I'll come back to it in a minute.

 

First, though, there were some formalities, as they roster clerk told me that my pay number was 4518, asked me to sign for a brand new 1955 British Railways Rule Book (wish I'd kept that, now) and handed me a locker key; I'd have to find the locker myself, but not now, there was railway work to learn!  I accompanied Ted around the back of the carriage shed and across the tracks to North Curve Yard cabin, where the first test (while I was being intoduced to the other shunter, George Colwall, the E76 pilot driver Bill Setchfield, and the E76 guard for that day, whose name I forget but who was known as Elephant Boy because he'd once worked for Billy Smart's Circus), was 'right, let's see if you know how to use that teacan, make us a brew!'.  I passed, flying colours (it'll do, just about), and was now not just a railwayman, but a proper railwayman, one that could make tea and Ted showed me how to swing the can, a terrifying manoevre that involved looping the loop with your hand hopefully firmly grasping the handle, fast enough for the top to stay on the can; this was alleged to brew the tea more quickly and thoroughly.  The importance of tea to the smooth running of the railway in those days cannot be overstated!

 

It was to be seven weeks before the start of the next guards' training course, and I was to spend that time at Penarth North Curve picking up whatever ropes I could, at my own pace and in excellent company.  I could not have asked for a better bunch of blokes to show me said ropes, or a better introduction to railway work at it's most basic level.  It was wonderful; more about it in the next installment!  I was not required to sign on or off at the depot during this time, just turned up at the yard at 7 in the morning, the reason for which will become apparent next time, and go home when I felt like it, about 3 in the afternoon mostly, again for reasons which will become apparent.  Over the rest of that week, I learned more about railways than at any time before or since, and enjoyed every minute!  They were showing me how to play trains properly, with real trains to play with, and they were paying me to do so; what was not to like!

[Enterprisingwestern]

 

Excellent .

Just Johnsternory on the telly now and I reckon you've cracked it!

 

Mike.

 

[scottystitch]

This is an excellent initiative. I always read your explanations and reminiscences with great care and enthusiasm. 
 

Please continue to make these posts when you can.  
 

Best

 

Scott. 

[MidlandRed]

This is really interesting and entertaining stuff @The Johnster - I’ll look forward to these. 

[The Johnster]

Thank you for your kind words, good gentlemodellers, they are greatly appreciated!  I'll try and post every few days to prevent it becoming onerous, but it could go on for a while!  Enjoying it so far; good writing practice and good to revive the memories, well, some of them, anyway...  What I'm hoping to achieve is an illustration of what railway work was actually like at the sharp end out in the cold and rain in the 70s (one's enthusiasm only takes one so far in the small wee hours on a dirty winter night when one is running out of stove coal in a draughty rocking van...), and the culture and 'crack' of the job as well; if I can interest and entertain you into the bargain, well, job done, happy days!  Posterity might find some of it useful as well...

[The Johnster]

8 hours ago, Enterprisingwestern said:

 

Excellent .

Just Johnsternory on the telly now and I reckon you've cracked it!

 

Mike.

 

 

I used to be in a band that did some tv work.  No thanks, horrible people, where's your AK47 when you want it?

[Peter Kazmierczak]

Really well written and very engaging; I'm looking forward to chapter 3.

[balders]

Read this whilst waiting at Ninian Park in the rain for 37403 to get the road back into the station after a jaunt up to Cwmbargoed.......most appropriate really! Very enjoyable @The Johnster 

 

Regards

 

Guy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Welchester]

Thanks for this, Johnster. I've enjoyed reading your reminiscences in various threads. It's good to have them in one place.

[johnofwessex]

Thank yiou very much.

 

Now there is the question of how we preserve some of the threads/postings on the site for posterity

[sf315]

Really looking forward to reading these tales. 

Love to read about how the Railway was run in the period I model. 

I knew about swinging the billy can around and have seen it done. 

Yes it is an excellent brewing method for tea. 

[The Johnster]

Part the third, in which The Johnster, or The Professor as he is soon to become known, settles in to life at Penarth North Curve on the E76 pilot:-

 

Pulled up the old Riley Elf behind the cabin at North Curve the following day, a little before 7.  You approached this through a lane up the side of Ninian Park stadium, all long gone now, it's Cardiff Bus' main depot.  They had a depot down there in those days, but further up from the Stadium on Sloper Road.  Cuppa in the cabin and catchup with today's news and gossip, to which I was mostly an observer, and then George the shunter pipes up 'come on then, let's go for a bit of a run, and we all climbed aboard the 08, four of us, Bill driver, George shunter, Elephant Boy guard, and The Johnster, official strapper for the next seven weeks. Not just any old strapper, you understand, it was very rapidly obvious that I was Ted's and Bill's specific strapper; they'd taken a liking to me and my eagerness to learn, and were happy to put themselves out in consequence.  Destination, Ferry Road, trip to service the Esso tank farm at Ely Harbour and the various rail-served concerns along Ferry Road.  If you know Ferry Road nowadays, the access to the Retail Park, Sports Village, IKEA, and the Campbell Drive housing development, forget everything! 

 

Ferry Road in those days was a rough, potholed, narrow, small-industry strewn way with the Ely Harbour branch embankment to one side and a string of small factories, scrapyards, workshops, and such on the other, rusty corrugated iron, huge potholes filled with muddy water, and a general air of scruffiness and decay being the order of the day, as well as cars parked on the railway tracks, which were mostly invisible if it was raining.  It did a vicious dogleg under a very low bridge under the Harbour Branch and ran between it and the foreshore for the rest of the way to the tank farm and the entrance to the Ely River Foot Tunnel, can't offhand remember if that was still in use in those days.  It ran under the river and came up just that side of Penarth Dock entrance lock, and you could hear the oil tankers' engines rumbling overhead if you were down there at the right time.  Every bit as claustrophibic and terrifying as a real U-boat...

 

The regular coastal tankers running up here from Milford Haven were smart modern 400tonners called Esso Ipswich and Esso Poole.  My dad was a Cardiff ship pilot and they were regulars of his; he claimed to have scraped the top of the tunnel with Esso Poole on one occasion, and once brought her through Sully Island Sound, loaded, at high water in order to berth her during the slack.  'Couldn't have been much more than a foot under her' I told him; '14 inches, actually', good comeback, dad.

 

We hauled our train out on to the down of the TVR Penarth Branch, Ted shunter working the ground frame, into Ninian Park Halt Down Platform.  We then propelled through the trailing crossover, operated by the panel, towards Grangetown.  It was not unusual to be held at the signal protecting the junction with the Barry line for a dmu or two to go about their business, during which time George, Elephant Boy, and The Johnster walked the hundred yards or so to Grangetown Ground Frame.  Elephant Boy got on the phone to the panel, who released the ground frame key.  IIRC there were six levers, black for the crossover between down and up lines just to the north of the station, red for the calling-on signal on the post of the signal that the train was held at, black for the Branch turnout, blue for it's facing point lock as it was on a passenger-rated line,  black for the trap point exiting the branch, and red for the ground position signal that allowed that move.  I had already picked up that these subsidiary signals were referrred to as 'dummies' by everybody on the loco.  He operated the frame, explaining to me what he was doing and what the interlocking did, while George called Bill on.  The 08 then propelled it's train onto the harbour branch, George walked up to where we were, and EB put the frame back, took the key out, thanked the panel, and we all got back on the engine. 

 

The harbour branch was now ours, we were safely locked in, and gods of our world, about a mile of railway.  I was enjoying this!  The first move was to propel down as far as the bridge carrying the road under the railway at the bottom of Clive Street, where there was a facing turnout to access the road level sidings at a lower level.  The formation of the incline carrring this can still be made out, but you've got to look for it!  Because these lower level sidings were accessed in this way, the turnout was springloaded, and I was given the task of standing on the foot pedal that kept if over while the train propelled through it.  First, though, the tanks, leading the propelled formation, were uncoupled by George, who pinned a brake down on the nearest one, while EB positioned himself at the bottom of the incline, where the line crosses Ferry Road, to direct traffic; this was an ungated and otherwise unmanned crossing.  Bill set the 08 back across the bridge, and I stood on the point lever, and, joy of joys glory of glories, called him by handsignal on as George had shown me earlier.  Bill gave me an acknowledging toot, and the train moved slowly forwards.  I did that, me, I do railway work, I am a railwayman, 350hp and about 150tons and a driver at my Command!  The demigod feeling evaporated when Bill didn't stop to pick me up after I'd released the sprung point, and I had to walk down the incline to catch up, by which time they'd moved on a bit, but I was floating on air anyway...

 

Shunting Ferry Road meant exchanging vans, mostly, one or two opens.  There was a scrappy on a kickback siding with a terrifying Alsatian guard dog which a) took an instant and permanent dislike to The Johnster, and b) was quite capable of jumping up to cab window height and snapping his not inconsiderable jaws at him.  There was an oil storage business as well, where we swapped vans full of full drums for others full of empty drum, or was it the other way around (actually, it was both).  There was a builders yard, and the Car Auctions Yard, which sometimes attracted a lowfit with a vehicle on it.  George showed me how to uncouple with the pole, but I hadn't got the hang of coupling up with it yet (in fact I never considered myself fully competent and able to couple up 100% of the time with a pole, often having to go back for a second shot.  Any of Mike's Radyr guards would have run rings around me, and most Canton guards actually, in this respect).  Banter with the various characters in the various businesses, and I became aware of another vital service the railway performed for this working community, as Bill handed out packets of winnings and collected bets to be placed at the bookies under Leckwith Road bridge when he went for his breakfast at the cafe next door to it.  A usual diversion was to move cars and sometime vans and trucks off the line out of our way.  EB and George were solid types that you wouldn't want to run into up a dark alley, and quite competent at this, but eventually even The Wimpster could bounce a family saloon out of the way.

 

Everybody got a new van or wagon?  Everybody got rid of their old one?  Is that f*ckin' dog chained up inside?  Fine, back up the incline to the main branch, and couple on to the tanks we left there earlier.  Propel down over the dogleg bridge, past 'The Red House', a pub noted for lockins due to it's remote location, actually the 'Penarth Railway Hotel', a nod to the branch's TVR history, and painted green.  Despite it's name, it was painted green, and a bit of a rarity in that there were not many pubs in Cardiff that you could leave a loco in the car park of.  There was one other, and we will revisit it in another episode.  Bit of tanker bothering at the tank farm, but they had their own shunter so we stayed on the engine until they'd finished, EB went and did a tally, and we were right away Grangetown Ground Frame. 

 

George worked it in this direction, and we then abandoned him, the panel wanting to get us off the Barry Extension and out of the way of the dmus.  It would be about half-nine, tennish, by now.  We would normally let George put the frame back and lock up while we headed off in the direction of Ninian Park Halt, where Bill, whenever he was on the duty, would abandon ship and leave it to the guard.  Bill would go down the caff and get his vittles, put the bets on, and turn up demanding tea about forty minutes later; EB or whoever the guard was that day would drive back through the shunt into the yard when the dummy cleared and run through an empty road that had been set for him on to the bottom end headshunt, which went across the Virgil Street road bridge to pick George up and save him a longer walk. 

 

Everybody had done this hundreds of time, and it was routine.  As was impressed upon me many times by these blokes, who were excellent teachers and encouraged you to have a go at things, even when it must have been a pita to them, that routine is a dangerous enemy on the railway, and just because the a job always proceeds in exactly the way you have learned it and expect it to, you must alway retain a vigilance, because today it might not...

 

That about sums up the Ferry Road morning trip.  There would be another one in the afternoon if there was traffic, which was usually from the tank farm.  The job now was breakfast, and more tea, and then at about half 11 we would gird up our loins for the Ely Paper Mill trip.  This was to blow some of my railway preconceptions out of the water; I'd already been a bit shocked at propelling loose-coupled and unbraked with no brake van on the Ferry Road leg.  A rake of medfits carrying wood pulp would be made up ahead of half a dozen 16ton minerals of coal, the 08 would run around it and couple on from the bottom end of the yard, and propel righly line to Ely Paper Mill Ground Frame.  Four levers, red calling on, blue fpl, black turnout, red exit dummy.  EB did the honours with the panel ad let me throw the levers.  There's a bit of a knack to this, you release the clip, start to haul back gently, and as you feel the lever pick up the slack of the rodding or wire, throw yourself backwards with your full weight.  Full weight from the start will put your back out and you won't have pulled the lever.  Once the lever frame work was done, there wasn't much else, as the Mill's shunter did the groundwork and made up the tally to give to the guard.  Suited me, chance for a footplate ride on the little RSH 0-4-0, always kept in immaculate condition.  

 

But now the shocker; on the way back, we hauled the completely unfitted train wrong road!  All the way from the exit dummy to the entrance dummy at North Curve, through two main signals applying to the correct direction!  It deeply offended my sense of safe railway proprietry, and at this point (or rather, in the cabin shortly afterwards) I was introduced to the Sectional Appendix to the Rules and Regulation (Awre Jc-Fishguard and branches), which authorised this and many other stunts that I would not have believed two days previously.  This knowledge, or at least the awareness that it existed and was used, marked my psychological transition from enthusiast to, well, something else.  I am enthusiastic about railways, but since that morning have never regarded myself as a railway enthusiast.  It's a difference of attitude, and difficult to explain quantitatively, but nonetheless genuine  and real. 

 

Last thing in the evening was a transfer trip to Radyr Quarry, with whatever trade we'd picked on the earlier trips and that had been put off by those through trains booked to call at the yard.  Off North Curve Yard at street level was Virgil Street coal yard, straight off a model, two roads, cells, merchant offices, weighbridge, flatbeds, sack, weighing machines, the lot.  This was protected from runaway wagons by a sprung footlever turnout at the top of the incline by the cabin, similar to that at Ferry Road.  I was starting to pick up insights into the nittygritty end of the job, and loving every minute, even when it rained.

 

Another driver and EB took me on a run in a brake van up to Hereford during this period, which was highly educational, and drummed in on me the importance of good route knowledge.  I rode up in the van and came back in the cab of a 47, seeing the job from both guards' and drivers' viewpoints, and learned a lot of general good stuff from that day, both men stressing the importance of keeping the couplings tight as much as possible to minimise bumps and snatches on undulating roads at freight speeds.  This stayed with me, and was to stand me in good stead later.  Done entirely off their own bats, unofficially, they just though it was a good thing to do and to help me learn better.  That sort of support and cameraderie was under threat in those days for various reasons, but enough of it was still present to be a factor!

 

Then on a Friday Ted told me to book off at Canton, which I hadn't been to for nearly seven weeks, payslips coming over to the curve cabin in a van with Ted and Bills', and the fun was over for now; told to report 08.30 Guards' Training Module, Cardiff West Signal Box, Monday morning, hand drawn sketch map showing footpath approach to West Box from Clare Road but I knew this well enough already from my spotting days.  Many of the official walking routes I was to use in my career were known to me from Ian Allan's Shed Directories, but to be brutally honest, my spotting experiences were of not nearly as much use to me as I though they might be.  Head start on minor stuff like knowing loco classes, and the basics of vacuum brakes, but I had a mountain more of stuff to learn.  Bring it on...

Edited March 13, 2023 by The Johnster

[ikks]

Brilliant Johnster,

This has to be the start of a book, something reminiscience of Mike Higston's "London Midland Fireman", it's invaluable to lovers of railway history.....and us muddlers!!!................. Love it!!.

Mike

[Ian Smeeton]

Please sir, can I have some more?

 

Regards

 

Oliver

(Ian)

[admiles]

Really rather enjoying these so keep it up The Johnster.

 

The mental picture I have of the hand drawn maps reminds me of Spike Milligan's war memoirs for some reason (also a fascinating read btw).

[C126]

These writings are quite wonderful, especially with the sites' descriptions and details.  Perhaps others here might be persuaded to set their memories to type as well...  Please can someone ensure they will be invulnerable to the photo-wiping lurgi striking?  Look forward to the next episode a.s.a.p.  Thank you for going to all this trouble.

[KeithHC]

Surprised you did not nip across to get a Clark’s pie. Only once did I drive around Ferry road and Clive street before all the redevelopment. Just wished I had a camera at the time. Keep up the recollections they are fascinating.

 

Keith

[woodenhead]

@The Johnster This is exactly the type of thread that could be a blog rather than a post.

 

With a blog each of your entries will be seperated and visible to anyone who looks at it, any comments on each blog entry will be at the bottom so that the pure reminiscing from yourself remains front and centre and doesn't get drowned by others comments.

 

Before you get too far into this, have a think about the format.

[Flying Pig]

I'm enjoying this very much, particularly the details of trip working, but I agree with @woodenhead that the content would be suited to a blog.

[Peter Kazmierczak]

Superb. 

 

A map to put all the lines/places in context would be really helpful for those of us who don't know Cardiff.

 

Bring on chapter 4...

[rab]

On 14/03/2023 at 13:58, ikks said:

Brilliant Johnster,

This has to be the start of a book, something reminiscience of Mike Higston's "London Midland Fireman", it's invaluable to lovers of railway history.....and us muddlers!!!................. Love it!!.

Mike

Remember, you read it here first. :)

[The Johnster]

Ok, I'll start the next installment as a blog, you're right, it is more manageable there. 

 

For Peter K, most of the track mentioned in the North Curve installment is still there.  Now called the 'City Line', the Radyr Quarry line as we knew it ran to the south of Canton shed, 'Penarth North Curve' or just North Curve, forming the northern chord of a triangle, with the East Curve being the Barry Railway's 'Cardiff Extension' and the South Curve being the original TVR Penarth Branch from Radyr Jc.  The Penarth Harbour Branch, not quite the same thing, ran from this to what was generally known as Ely Harbour, wharves on the Ely River originally serving coal hoists, but by my time these had gone and the area was the Esso tank farm.  It ran in a dead straight line from Grangetown Jc to the wharves. 

 

Ely Paper Mill occupied a large site between Ely Bridge on Cowbridge Road and the curve of the TVR branch.  The TVR Penarth Branch runs parallel to the SWML for a distance between Ninian Park Halt and the curve that takes it over the SWML, and the gf to access the sidings was situated at the point this curve begins.  You can see the North Curve junction about a mile away from that point, as the track ran straight, along an embankment.

 

Hope that explains matters as my scanner is kaput.

[Flying Pig]

23 minutes ago, The Johnster said:

I'll start the next installment as a blog, you're right, it is more manageable there. 

 

 

Could you please copy the first three instalments to the blog, so it's all together for future reference?

[KeithHC]

Rail map online is a good reference to see all the various sidings etc. if you click on labels and features this gives even more detail.

 

Keith