Memoirs of a Railway Volunteer - Part 1

Last year was a year of anniversaries for me. It was ten years since Peak Rail opened to Rowsley, twenty since we began work at Darley Dale, thirty years since I joined the Peak railway Society, forty years since the line closed – and I was fifty years old. It seemed a good time to begin work on a project I had been mulling over for years, and to begin work on “my memoirs”.

Working on a preserved railway sometimes seems like living in a cross between Dallas and the Goon Show; there has been plenty of farce and drama. I learned an awful lot in the process, and made many good friends in the course of our adventures.

Most of the chapters so far written have appeared on the Peak Rail web group, where with perhaps one or two exceptions they have been well received, especially by the veterans who were there at the time. I kept a log of my activities, and the details are as accurate as I can make them. One day i hope they will make a book. I make no apology for mentioning our errors; they were on public record before, and are part of our history. Though we did make mistakes we made many other things as well. Hopefully you will laugh, learn, and avoid them for the future. Then you can write about the new mistakes you have managed to find for yourselves.

Adventures in Railway Design. Part I – Mostly Signalling.

This is by way of a shaggy dog story. I am sat by the fire with the second pint of the evening empty in my hand, and there are tales in the bottom of the glass.

Designing any sort of a railway project is enormously complicated. I once read that the problems of the average river valley railway company will give a professionally qualified person some of the biggest challenges of his or her career. These various problems combine to create a much higher order of complexity and solving them is a very rewarding achievement, in which you need all the help you can get. Having done both, I would reckon that organising the defence in a murder trial is relatively easy.

Signalling and other engineers are like surgeons, very specialised in their expertise. A back specialist will not advise on wrist fractures. Design, installation, and maintenance engineers each have their own areas of knowledge. It may well be that an expert in major modern projects has difficulty adjusting to the simplicity and lateral thinking required in a volunteer preservation scheme. Nothing can be taken for granted and, if you want to manage such a thing successfully, you must get a broad range of advice and look at the options with a very critical eye.

The early attempts by Peak Rail to salvage signal boxes were not successful. In the early 1980’s the boxes from Marple, Marple Wharf, Hindlow and Lymm were all taken to pieces with no very clear plan to re-erect them. The fragile dismantled components were always in the way and having to be moved. Each time more bits got lost or broken and the timber pieces were outside rotting in the rain. One of the Marple boxes had a Midland tumbler frame, while Hindlow had a massive LNWR mechanism made of cast iron. It was difficult to shift and easy to break. In later years I tried to sell the LNWR frame to the Stockport S & T engineers for spares. The reply I got back was that they hated the wretched things, and the only hope they had to get rid of them was a catastrophic breakdown without parts, which I was threatening to supply, so would I please go away and keep quiet. Eventually we scrapped or burned the lot. Years later I heard on the grapevine that some LNWR frames at Stockport had been dismantled for repairs, and the bits had been scrapped by mistake. This created a crisis in which we could have charged almost any price for LNWR frame spares...never throw anything away, if you have the space. We kept the LMS pattern 4 1/2 inch tappet frame from the other Marple box. This is a much sounder design and we took care to acquire others as the chance arose.

Perhaps I should explain that an LMS frame is built up from segments, each consisting of one lever, which has a pivot sharing an intermediate casting with its neighbour. So, the arrangement is, casting, lever, casting, lever, with, in this case, a pitch of 4 ½ inches between each lever. Attached to the lever near the bottom end is the tappet, a rocking casting attached to a tongue of steel about 1” by ¼ which lies horizontally in the locking tray behind the frame. This has notches cut in it to mate with wedges riveted to the locking bars. The bars are ¼” square steel running in slots in the tray at right angles to the tongues. Pulling lever 3 releases 4 and locks 5, that sort of thing.

Once the frame has been set up by a locking fitter, the result is a tight mechanical programme which can only operate authorised sequences.

By contrast, in the LNWR design, the massive cast iron locking segments are fitted directly to the main drive rods from the bottom of the frame which are about 2” by 1” steel bar. Battleship engineering.

Anyway, the first turning point in Peak Rail S&T planning came with the decision to salvage Gorsey Bank Box from Wirksworth in one piece for use at Buxton. Midland boxes have nails hammered into the joints to lock them, and while they can be barred apart, this splits the tenons, which then rot. The bottom of the box was rotten, so we cut it off just below the first floor and replaced the base with steel uprights on which it sits today at Church Lane. At least in that format it was relatively easy to move. I would reckon that any attempt to move a box without a well organised scheme to reconstruct it more or less immediately is likely to end in failure. An awful lot of signal boxes have been salvaged by various railways and then quietly disappeared.

The fact remains, that while it looked very pretty, and the stove made it deliciously warm, we never actually commissioned the box at Buxton. Given that the box only had to control two turnouts and a facing point lock, how was that, and why on earth did we not just use a ground frame?

First of all, ground frames. A ground frame is a simplified version of a signal box frame operating from ground level. Typically a three lever frame will operate a siding connection. One lever for the turnout, one for the facing point lock and one for a ground signal, as used at Rowsley and many other places. If the frame is locked by the Staff Key carried on the engine then you don’t need a signalman. We were advised that ground frames were strategic spares and would not be available under any circumstances. The volunteer who was giving the advice, lets call him Albert, was a professional signalling design engineer. Nice guy, dedicated volunteer, brilliant at arranging salvage operations. Technically good at the detailed installation of S&T. In hindsight perhaps we got over obsessed with the details and couldn’t progress the mechanical S&T programme as a whole.

Time moved on and we began building a railway at Darley Dale. The easy bit was to establish a base in the South Yard and drive the railway South. The plans for the signalling, level crossing and platform led to many hard fought arguments.

The initial working assumptions were that Derbyshire County Council could create severe difficulties, and would require minimum obstruction of the highway. They were insisting on a barrier crossing on Station Road. A scheme was drawn up, with the best advice available to us at the time, for a single track crossing over the road, leading to a run round loop beyond the platform, controlled by a box at the Rowsley end of the platform as Derbyshire Dales District Council would never agree to a box by the road. The platform would have to be repaired with care as it had a rare fern growing out of it. We hoped to avoid the need to rebuild it with an overhang however on measurement the platform turned out to be built to a Midland Railway loading gauge, with 3 inches less clearance than LMS or BR at the platform edge, it was also considerably lower than modern requirements. There was a minor slope from the station building towards the track, to drain surface water away.

The proposed method of operation was that passengers would get off at the platform, after which the train would draw forwards empty to run round. By this means it was hoped to avoid almost all signalling requirements apart from the crossing.

We managed to get hold of some obsolete barrier mechanisms, though without the barriers, and arrangements were made to salvage Glendon North Signalbox from Northamptonshire. There was no option but to take the box out in pieces as road access was very limited. However the line was shut on a total possession and we could do as we wished. We put in a large working party and salvaged the box, the frame, and associated fittings, which meant all the mechanical S&T gear within about 200 yards either side of the box.

Back at Darley Dale, a space was cleared at the North end of the Up platform, and the main structural bits laid out for repair. However, doubts were creeping in and the arguments continued. For a start, it might well be cheaper to salvage another box in one piece than to repair Glendon itself. At about this time I got so fed up with the multiple schemes being discussed that I suggested the use of lower quadrant crossing barriers. Mick Thomas went down to see a senior member of the Railway Inspectorate for an informal discussion. At that time such gentlemen tended to be ex-officers from the Royal Engineers with railway experience. The theory was that the railways ran on military style discipline, so that former RE officers would have the experience, and understand the culture and the engineering, while being completely independent of the railway industry. H.M. inspecting officers had a truly formidable reputation. LTC Rolt described them as “the railway equivalent of Sherlock Holmes – difficult to fool and far too dangerous to try”. In practice, while perfectly capable of delivering a stinging military rebuke, they took a benign interest in the preservation movement and were always ready to give constructive advice to those wise enough to ask for it.

Mick had an interesting meeting with the Major. Peak Rail’s sacred cows were put on parade and shot. First of all there would be no electric barriers unless we could prove we could maintain them. Where did we think we would get spares for an obsolete design? Who would fit them? What would we do if they broke down - did we propose to employ a qualified barrier engineer on 24 hour call? Gates, manual, volunteers for the use of, would be much more suitable. As for the box, there would be no question of it going anywhere but next to the crossing. The signalman must see both road and rail. Having the loop beyond the platform was complicated and likely to confuse. What if it was raining and the passengers didn’t want to get off? How could we possibly guarantee that no passenger would ever travel in a train over this track? The loop would be in the platforms and properly signalled under the control of the signalman.

Then the Major delivered the crown jewels. He explained that Station Road had been built after the railway, it had its own Act of Parliament and was subject to the right to run a railway across at all times which was still in force. Any arguments with the local authorities would be limited in scope, and settled by him personally. They had no business interfering in railway design and he would write and tell them so. He did, in a very crisp short letter and sent Mick a copy which he treasures to this day. As to the platform, the requirement was that it must be structurally sound with a trip free surface and a satisfactory cross-sectional drawing and details of the fencing must be submitted prior to inspection. Incendiary comments were made about the fern. He trusted he would find that the platform sloped backwards at a gentle gradient and not forwards. Runaway pushchairs must not accelerate towards the track. The notion of re-building would not be mentioned by him and must not be mentioned by us. Provided we described our work as repairs to the existing structure, we could avoid the need to re-build to a modern profile, with all the extra masonry work and expense this would require. He would inspect on the drawings and on what he found on the day, and would not enquire what had been there before.

The first job to be tackled on the new agenda was the signal box. The Midland Box at Bamford was redundant, it was the same design as Glendon North, and someone else had already taken the frame. We began by digging out foundations next to Station road and casting a concrete base. Two weeks later, at 4 am on a Saturday morning, there was a total possession on the Hope Valley line and about 30 volunteers were on site in readiness. I prefer not to think too often about the health and safety implications of that job, but they do come back to me, generally in the small hours of the morning after eating too much cheese. To prepare the job you knock out two rows of cladding, just under the first floor, and then cut through the main uprights with a chain saw. The box tends to sit on the saw rather heavily towards the end of the cut, so you hammer in a steel wedge to keep the gap open. The next job is to thread a pair of girders into the gap to support the box on the chains. Unfortunately the ones we had brought were too weak and bent alarmingly when the crane tried to lift. We had a big 100 ton Octag crane and two low loaders on hire. Very expensive. Nearby were two offcuts of rail, about 20 feet long. The volunteers got in a line, picked them up and marched off with them “’ere-you can’t do that” “Oh can’t we?” The rails were slung, lifted by the crane, and slotted into the gap.

The bit I remember, where it got really interesting, was when we had pushed the rails through as far as possible so that they balanced on the front cladding and then took the chains off. I was standing on a frame support under the box and helped to slide the rails through to the back. My next job was to go up a ladder at the back of the box to sling the chains for the lift. As I did so a number of things rapidly became clear. The rail weighed about a third of a ton. It was supported on a piece of cladding about six inches wide and less than an inch thick, held in place by rusty nails which were perhaps eighty years old. My ladder was leaning on the same bit of timber and we were on top of the embankment. If the timber gave way then I would probably travel through a neat arc into the field, about 30 feet below and possibly with the rail on top of me. The timber did nothing. I slung the chain and went back down.

The top of the box was the dickens of a sight on a lowloader going through the middle of Bakewell at about 8am on a Saturday morning. I think it was Terry Perkins who was sitting on the roof with a forked pole, to lift the telephone wires clear. The bottom followed in the same manner, with a cradle of scaffolding inside it. Putting it back together was a bit more finicky, but at least it was daylight. The bottom of the box has no great rigidity in itself, so despite the cradle, it tended to shift out of square and had to be trued up with jacks and crowbars before we could put the top on. It was eight o’clock that night before we finished, but the box was standing on its new foundation. Later we joined the legs with bits cut from an electric pylon.

The following Monday I had a very satisfying phone call from the chief planning officer, who was not a happy man. He wanted to know when we were going to move the box as it had no planning permission, and would not get one as it infringed the building line. My reply went something the lines that when we did make our application, he would have to refer it to the County Council as a highways matter. They would have to refer it to the Railway Inspectorate as a railway matter. At the Railway Inspectorate, it would be dealt with by Major Olver – who had already said it must go right there. Good Morning. Later the same council gave us a community award because the box looked so good.

Meanwhile Albert was in charge of commissioning the new box, and it was going slowly. The volunteers held regular meetings, at one of which Albert was challenged by a carrot headed yorkshireman called Andy, who thought ground frames would be easier. Albert held his ground.
“All I’m saying is, you can’t do it like that. You cannot get ground frames”.
“Is tha sure?”
“Ground frames are strategic spares and they will not sell you any”
“Ah’ve bought ten ground frames”.

And so he had, from Doncaster, for £100 the lot. It costs a fair amount of money to move a signal box, and we didn’t see much of Albert after that.

Demolition of the Up platform face turned out to be surprisingly easy, more of an assisted collapse once we had rolled the edging slabs back. The mortar in the face had perished and it had split away from the cement and rubble filling at the rear. Part of it had no foundation at all, and you can still see the concrete slab we cast, opposite the front of the toilet block. The wall was “repaired” by a volunteer team led by Mick and stood 5 inches higher than before, and 3 inches further from the track.

At this point Mick went into overdrive, and the remaining problems went down like skittles. Several smaller frames were cannibalised to make a 7 lever frame for the crossing and a ground frame hut was built from the remains of Glendon North and a portacabin. A design for a steel copy of a wooden gate was prepared, and the gates and posts fabricated by BLI at Tunstead. Look carefully and you will see that the diagonals are reversed from a wooden design. Steel is strong in tension, wood is strong in compression. Station Road was closed for a fortnight (not easy to arrange) for the installation of the level crossing, which included floating the track on an enormous slab of concrete. The method was, first lay the tracks in panels and prop the rails up to perfect level on piles of brick. Install steel ducting for cables (taken from a footbridge bought with the naive idea of reconstructing it, but we won’t go into that just yet). Then pour one foot of concrete underneath and tamp to sleeper bottom level. Next, hit bricks with sledgehammer and sweep up the bits. Finally the road was tarmaced and re-opened. Not bad going for a fortnight.

At the end of the road closure, a long line of stock was shunted into the Down platform out of the way. It included a Class 25 diesel, the battery box of which left a scar on the original Midland profile platform, which can be seen to this day.

One thing I particularly remember, is that before the crossing was built, the local boy racer used to go roaring down Station Road in the evening. The day the road re-opened there was the roar of an engine and THUMP – he hit the crossing and nearly took off and swerved all over the road as he fought for control. He drove more slowly after that.

Later Mick hung the gates which were mounted on standard industrial roller bearings rather than plain hinges. The gates weighed about a ton each, and it was possible to move them with the pressure of one finger.

Finally, we called in the inspector, who approved the railway, which we opened on a day so foggy we could hardly see the trains.

We had a lot of fun, and if we wasted some of our time we didn’t waste much money – a lot of the surplus stuff we picked up was later sold – and the team which built the Rowsley extension learned an enormous amount.

The moral of the story, if there is one, is that if you are open about your plans and consult the volunteers you will have some lively discussions which will take a lot of time, but you can learn a lot in the process and save far more time in the long run. A well organised team is a precious thing.

Tim

 

That was lovly to read and well done to the railway

 

Tim ,

As you know I am a member of the Peak Rail E- group and have read this before plus parts two and three, very funny indeed and I think we can all relate to this.

Why not publish a soft cover book, have a signing and raise money for your Railway at the same time?????

Regards
Chris

 

One day it will be a book I hope, but there is an awful lot of work needed to finish the material and lick it into shape. I don't have as much time as I did, so it will probably take a long time. Publishing on the Peak Rail e-group brought in extra material on some incidents, eg, Joe Brown's Bath, and I am hoping to spark a few contacts from past and present Peak Rail volunteers in this group. Meanwhile I think some of my tales have relevance to some of the topics being discussed in this forum.

If anyone fancies themselves as a cartoonist, then there may be some inspiration in the later bits.

Tim

 

P.S. One very serious point is the difference between the ROGS and ROTS systems of approval. Imagine what would have happend if we had engaged an independant crossings consultant to argue the crossing design with the district and county councils. It would have taken a lot more than a two line letter to sort things out, and we might not have won. The advice would have cost a lot more than a return ticket to London. We could easily have been forced to spend a very large sum of money on a modern barrier crossing. That is the new system which will apply as of October.

Any railway which cannot attract and retain the services of professionally qualified volunteers is going to be in trouble.

Tim

 

There I have to agree with you Tim, secondly I feel that with so many rules and regulations forced upon us which cost and arm and a leg, some Railways are going to go to the wall sooner rather than later.

Regards
Chris

 

well, i read them in the wrong order but have spent all afternoon doing so!...great stuff! Thank you for writiing it all!