| The CRYPT Mag |
Our thanks go to Mr. I. Fyvie, The Watercress Line, Mr. T. Knowles, Mr.S. Smalley, The North Norfolk Rly., Severn Valley Rly., Mr.Chris Adams and countless others for their assistance in this production.
During all of this time, I've sought to bring you a range of interesting facets from the historical world of railways. Nothing could please me better, but now I find that I'm at a loss for new material, hence a divergence in the subject matter.
I was introduced to the railways at the tender age of six days old - a series of now defunct lines enabling the family's travel from one end of the country to the other - in order to be viewed by the other half of my family. This was of some great necessity, as our only form of transport was a Douglas motorcycle.
It's quite amazing what you can remember from that sort of age - the most vivid recall of an L.N.E.R. express, hauled by a magnificent Silver Gresley A4 with "chime" wailing, passing underneath the road bridge we were on. And the dirty but smiling faces of the two footplatemen crewing the Ivatt tank loco which started our journey. It's often said that our first impressions of the world shape our lives; in my case it's true !
The sight and sound of a pacific loco with a heavy train being used in anger is something to stir the soul; such was that of Gresley's finest ! From then on, I'd been truly hooked, and by four years of age had determined to be - - a fireman!
No, not a driver, as most kids did! My father was totally shocked upon my voicing this wish, and tried to convince me that driving was the thing to do, if that was my chosen vocation. I would look forward to that for a long time yet, but it wasn't to be; by then B.R.B. had made their intentions quite clear that steam traction was to be no more, and I just had no remote interest in being a "motorman" in a soul-less box! I went on to put this right on a preserved railway, but that's another story!
My interest in the railways was kept afloat by one main line that ran through my present home town - the Great Central Railway, which still ran steam until economies were told, and large sections were closed. In the remaining years of steam operation, a great many locos from several regions were noted. Most of them were in a filthy, unkempt condition, and worked their last days over this route before finally expiring, requiring major repair work that never took place.
Diesel traction replaced the failed locos, and lines of dead steam of all denominations collected in sidings, waiting for their last trip to the cutting torch. Though the requirement to modernise was obvious, it still seems a dreadful waste of resources, and always will. Some of these locos were less than fifteen years old, and could have provided years more of faithful service.
The new diesels were a novelty with footplatemen; quieter, cleaner and warmer, but even then, a good many still preferred the familiar ground of water, coal, and sweat. Just how many footplatemen moved on to other fields of employment, no-one knows. Certainly, most of the elderly contingent moved away from the footplate, probably being set in their ways, and sceptical of this new - fangled contraption.
The diesel didn't have it all it's own way though. Reliability was an Achillies heel, and time and again a battered, leaking steam loco had to be summoned to the rescue. Spotters rejoiced every time they saw this situation, though by now even the spotters were few and far between. Our other main line by now had been electrified, with several classes of electric loco identified. Cutting edge technology? I doubt that - the electric multiple units appeared to have been bodged from old local compartment stock left over from the pre - B.R. formation days.
They were as ugly as sin, and comfortless. The interior reminded me enforcibly of the train that had been my first encounter of the railways, except colder and dirtier, with no level of comfort to the seating whatsoever. These were rapidly replaced by a new design which, though the seats still had that spartan comfort level, at least afforded through movement for passengers trying to find seats.
There were still a small gathering of spotters to be found on the wall by the station, but having spoken to a few, the "magic" had gone, and the reticence of the old steam crews had pervaded even the "anorak brigade". The wall, which once was lined with sandwich boxes, cameras and spotters' backsides now lays bare - and that's our active station. So much in life changes, but are these changes for the better? The newest rolling stock on the West Coast Main Line is the Pendolino - after seeing one of these, I can only liken them to an ugly, drunken slug on steroids. Attractive they are not.
Next time out, with any luck, I should be bringing you a report on an excursion behind 6233. There seem to be three excursions from the locality, so providing my luck holds, I should be on one of them.
Keep on steaming!
Baz.
| © RIYAN Productions |
