Q8's World

I think It's broke.

Thu, 23 Feb 2006 13:24:34 +0100

BANG !! I was rudely awoken from my torporous state by that and someone shouting 'Fire'! I immediately dropped the button and stopped the train. Opening the middle cab door to the passenger saloon I saw a gent in a trembly state standing at the far end. I say 'saw' reservedly as the car was filled with a semi haze of dust and smoke and all the lights had gone out. I hollered to the guy 'go through into the next car' which he obeyed with alacrity. The next thing was someone shouting down the tunnel 'driver?, driver?. The train was about 2 car lengths into the tunnel and it seemed to have exploded! I dashed back into the cab and bawled down the phone to my mate at the back 'Open the doors Pete' and he replying 'But you're in the tunnel!' which got rude words from me and the instruction to 'do as you're told'

Let us go back a little and describe the scene. It was not long after 9 in the morning going south on the Bakerloo with a 7 car 1938 stock. No problems so far just the usual 'auto-pilot' driving on early turn. Came to a stand at Charing Cross [now Embankment] platform and waited while the station duties took place. Heard the doors rumble closed and got the 'ding' of the bell and wound up. Tick, tick, tick, BANG!.................... Oh dear not your normal PCM sounds at all is that. The events above then took place so we'll carry on from there.

I walked through the shot, shit and shell to the next car with my handlamp to see my way. As I did so the doors opened and I hear shouts of 'Driver' again and when I get into the second car a figure in a large hat looms up in front of me. It's the station Inspector come down from upstairs in a near panic as the bang had been heard on the District line platforms and they thought an I.R.A. bomb had gone off. I said to him 'I'm all right mate' and he visibly deflated. 'What's happened' were his first words which got the usual cockney response of 'FIIKC'. I told him I had got the bell and wound up and the next thing came the aformentioned 'loud report' to put it in officialese. Sudeenly the car lights came back on as current was restored by the sub operator. He, not having heard the reason for the current discharging had waited the prescribed seven minutes and recharged as per rule.

Now we had a bit of light and could see things we asked the bloke who had been in the leading car who was now sitting down puffing away on a cigarette, what he had seen. He told us that he had been sitting in the centre transverse seat on the left and as the train started to move there came an enormous red/blue flash from under the seat on the other side of the car at the same time as the bang. We asked to show us which seat and he came with us and did so. Upon lifting the seat cushion and peering underneath it was obvious that whatever it was it was electrical as the metal work of the floor and inside car side panels was severely burned with evidence of a massive arc. We could not, obviously see the outside of the panels at the car was in the tunnel but later on when we could get a look we saw all the paint was burned off the metal.

'Gawd' said the inspector 'What are you going to do'?...... Do? said I. 'Whatever I have to to get this old cart out of the way mate.' By now my Guard and some station staff were all in attendance at the scene of the crime and the first decision was to get all members of the public out of the way. This was done in short order and once thay had gone me and my mate set about isolation things to prevent a recurrence. The inspector, poor chap, had not a clue as he had come up through the booking office grades so we packed him off to tell the controller what was afoot. Once he was gone I made sure that my mate had his heater button switched off as per instruction. Then I dived under a couple of seats and cut out the CON:Cos and the COM:Cos as they are described on the cant rail in the car. These key controlled switches prevent the PCM mechanism from working and stop the compressor under it's car from pumping. Having done that I went to the middle cab and tripped out the motor generators then also tempoarily cut out the Fault Isolating Switch and so cut the control lines in half. On the rear unit I reset the MG's so that at least one half of the train had auxiliary power. I then cut in the F.I.S. again.

The train is now effectively two trains coupled together with leading half having battery power only and no 630v equipment operative at all. 'Now comes the hard part' I tell my mate. With instructions to return to the back and make sure no-one is on board he was to shut the train doors and check his tail lights were working. While he did that I returned to the front cab and charged up the train line pipe and cut out the 10 point in that cab. The charging of the air took a little longer than normal but eventually the magic 65Lb was reached. I have now got to get the disabled wagons to London Road depot to get it mended. But I have do it with battery power for the control line and reduced brake pressure as I have to isolate the EP as well. I give my mate a call over the phone ask him if everything is ok and if it is to give me a bell. A reassuring 'ding' is heard and with a little prayer I wind up expecting more arcs and sparks. Wonder of wonders the train moves and we start our journey to salvation.

Now as I only have reduce brake pressure I am taking it very gingerly and go through Waterloo at about 10mph and once past there I expect to approach Lambeth North and get signalled toward the depot. But no, I get the platform signal. I make a rapid stop and get on the phone to Bobby. 'Ere mate I'm a dud. can't I go in the depot? I tell him. 'Sorry Buster' comes the reply. 'The old man has the fitter and the D.I. waiting at the Elephant for yer so you gotta go down there' He says. 'Beside that I got a train on the depot outlet road waiting for you to get past so you can't get in there anyway' With a silent curse I climb back in the cab and tell my mate of the dastardly plan. So we resume our funereal pace onward unto the almighty ones waiting at the line end. We reach said Heaven without further mishap and see the gentelmen in question waiting along with the SM on the southbound platform.

'You've been a gone and blown up a Met at Finchley Road' was the first utterances of the man with the big hat. 'I don't care a f*ck about Finchley Road' says I. 'I'm only concerned about this old crap heap here' This brings a grin from the great one and I am instucted to draw the train down to the crossover between the sidings so that the hammer and string merchant can have a gape underneath. I do as I am bid and Mr Fitter duly climbs out with his big torch and trolls alongside the train. His head disappears downwards from view like he was submerging and almost immediately pops up again with his mouth wide open as if he were drowning. This we have observed form inside the dimly lit car. This impressionist of a goldfish beckons to us to come outside to him and we do so. The sight that met our eyes nearly made them pop. There, under the car, was a mass of twisted metal, hanging wires and bits of porcelain insulator all in a nice monkey puzzle.

'I know what that is' says Mr Green Uniform [fitter] 'That's collapsed resistances, that is' 'Really'? says the big hat. 'Collapsed you say?.......more like f*cking disappeared to me' he elaborates. The only thing to do is get it to Neasden ASAP says the train mender. So the set of broken railway carriages is taken back into the southbound platform while sir consults with the bigger sir at Baker Street. He duly returns to say that 'Bakerman' is not happy and can we get the pile of old junk out of it so he can have his railway back. Now with at least being on the end of the train that has some power. I and my mate drag the poor old thing all the way out to Neasden so that she can be cured of her ailments. This was done as she re-appeared about 3 weeks later bright and shiny and as fit as a fiddle.

Me and my mate had to write out full reports at Baker Street in the canteen and also we had chance to chat with the Met driver who's 'A'; stock we had so nicely blown fuses on, for which he was grateful as he had a real 'bastard' of a turn. We got a bit of overtime for our efforts so all-in-all it was an eventful day.
« Last Edit: Dec 8, 2005, 4:45pm by q8 »

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A 'short' [in more ways than one]

Thu, 23 Feb 2006 13:12:36 +0100

A cold dark morning at Ealing Common depot. Me and my mate climb on board an 8 car 'Q' stabled on the alps to prep it for service. I do the doors and all the necessary at the east end and start to walk through to do the other end checking the condition of the cars, whether all the doors have opened, car lighting etcetera.

I get to the middle of the train and find it very dim as most of the car lights are out. Now on a 'Q' stock the car lights are incandecant lamps rated at 125v DC each in a series of 5 thus sharing 630v between them. If one in the series goes out or blows they all extinguish. There were 5 sets of five to a whole car. Well this car had 3 series out so it was therefore very dim and not fit for service.

So it was 4 on the whistle to get the fitter out. He toddles across bleary eyed and yawning. 'Wossamarrer mate' he drones. 'Got 3 series of lights out on this car cock' I reply. So he plods away to get a box of lamps and returns and climbs up.

With his torch he checks and tests bulbs and manages to get 2 series working again. He can't find which bulb in the 3rd series is the culprit so he take all the bulbs in the series out and looks into the sockets [all LT lamps were american Edison screw type ones BTW]. He replaces 4 bulbs of the series as the sockets seem to be OK. On the fifth socket he stops, shines the torch, says 'aha, thats the one' and promptly sticks his finger in the hole!

INSTANT AFRO HAIRCUT!! and all the rest of the bulbs lit up too. My mate took off his hat and grabbed his arm with it and yanked him free. [DC current will hold you and you CANNOT let go] The poor fitter collapses on the floor and his finger is black.

We sent him packing back to his hut to recover and put a bulb into the socket so that any curious passenger does not decide to do the same. It did not bring the series up but you were allowed to run with one series on a car out so it did not matter..

The moral of this story is,

NEVER PUT YOUR FINGER IN STRANGE HOLES!!

Comments

A Load Of Crap

Tue, 21 Feb 2006 18:46:50 +0100

Pouring with rain. 8 O'clock in the morning and standing at East Ham on the westbound getting drownded. After a couple of minutes the starter clears and I close the doors and give the bell. Train starts to move and I slam the Guards door glad to get out of the wet. Good job I had my cap and tent on as it kept most of me dry. However the car floor is awash and good few passengers near the doors were looking like wet washing. We don't get far however as the train stops at the advanced starter and stands for another 3 minutes or so. Onward we go and stop at Upton Park homes. A passenger asks me 'What's gone wrong mate' and I have to tell him I am as much in the dark as he is. Another five minutes and then into Upton Park platform. The BR stationman is standing there and informs me it's gonna be a long hike today as there is a flood in the tunnel at Mile End. This information elicits moans groans and curses from the on-board sardines and the comment thet 'they could have told us at Barking, then we could have gone in on the fast' This being a reference to the LTSR trains that were whizzing merrily past us toward London at 70 mph in 2 minute intervals. 12 car trains and packed to the nines as usual. Anyway after another couple of minutes we get a green to proceed. Another little hop to the advance and another dead stop. By now the trapped populace is getting restless and starts having a go at me. I tell them that I am in the same boat as they are and if I could help I would.

So with more little hops skips and jumps we get to Plaistow there to be told by the staff that controller wants us to tip out and go back east as he can't get any movement on the westbound. This causes uproar as the train previous to us had also be emptied and sent back and the platform was black with people. However we get them all out and with a good few deciding to head for Stratford by bus [if they can get on one] our train goes as far as West Ham homes and my mate shuts down and we change ends. After about 10 minutes my mate gives me a shout on the train phone to say that the train in the eastbound at Plaistow is dud and we are gonna be put in the bay road. So into the bay we go. In the west end cab I put up 'empty' marker lights with no destination plate as I don't know where we are going to when we do move out again.

I change ends again and find my mate is missing. He is not far away however as he is assisting the driver of the dud train and his Guard to set-up for a push out. By now there are trains all over the place and all at a standstill. The dud train moves off with the Guard driving from the rear. Me and my mate make a can of tea courtesy of the station staff as we don't know how long we are going to be in the bay. About 9 trains pass by going east in quick succession with only 2 going west. Both of which are absolutely solid with people. Then the station staff tell us the controller wants us to leave the bay and go west empty picking up at West Ham to take some of the crowd away from there. [There were no c2c platforms then]

Out of the bay we go and sure enough the place is buzzing and they all pile in glad to have a seat and train to ride on. To our surprise it's green signals all the way to Bromley by Bow so we bang on a bit more cheerfully. Another load of folk squeeze in at Bromley and I close the doors and miraculously get a pilot light and give the bell. The happiness is not long lasting though as we get to the advance and STOP. The rain has now left off but it's still very damp. After about fifteen minutes me and the passengers are scared shitless when there is a rapid tapping on my Guards door. Upon opening it who should be standing on the track but my driver! 'Ain't you heard me shouting on the phone?' he says. I tell him I have not. 'Well the driver on that last eastbound [trains have been passing east while we stood] told me we gotta reverse agian into Bromley. With that he marches off to the cab at the east end. Now we have a strange phenominon in that the signal we stopped at is now green and the shunt signal we have to take to reverse is also clear. It's not often you have clear signals at both ends of a train is it? So back into Bromley we go and some very annoyed people get off and troop over to the westbound platform. Off we go back east again until we get to the homes for Plaistow where are given the signal for...THE BAY. 'Oh what the f*ck is going on here? exclaimes my mate. [I have stayed at the east end of the train as I don't know what is going to happen] He gets down on the phone and gets back up and we once more enter the bay road.

Now we are in the bay we can only go west again so we just wait. My mate now needs a physical and disappears to have one. No sooner has he gone than I hear the points go over and the bay road starter clears. I gallop up to the phone and call the signalman who yells at me we are to put up Earls Court and get out of the bay as the controller has a train standing at the eastbound homes to enter the bay. I then [with much glee] tell him he will have to wait until my driver has finished his PNR. I am told to hang on and he patches me through to the controller who rants at me that I am holding the road up both ways and why have we not left the bay? I tell him I have no driver as he has gone for a crap and is not back yet. What follows was the worst tirade of swearing and rage I ever heard from a controller. He rounded it of with 'well you can f*ckingwell stay there then' followed by instructions to the signalman to get a release and get things moving again.

So me and my mate sit in the bay [he returned the instant I put the phone down] smoking and watching as trains pass both east and west. [the westbound ones very eratically.] After half an hour or so the stationwoman comes up and says to get ready as we are leaving in about 5 minutes. We duly take our action stations [no pun] and sure enough out we go. The queue of trains is as bad as ever but we run passenger and pick up a crush load. It takes about half an hour to reach Mile End and we are finally told the cause of all the kerfuffle. A sewer above the tunnel has burst between ME and Stepney Green and all doors and windows are to stay closed until SG is reached. This is relayed to ALL the passengers on the train so that they know if they DO open a window that only have themselves to blame for any subsequent ailments. We are told that station-to-station working is in force from Mile End To Stepney Green but the driver is instructed to not exceed 15mph until we get to Stepney.

So at a a funereal pace we set off. As we pass the pump house under the canal the most disgusting stench you can imagine assails our nostrils which makes some people heave. Then a little way further on we pass a veritable waterfall of shit and sewage like a brown curtain all over the train. This is too much for some folk and they add to the stench by depositing their breakfast over the car floor. On reaching Stepney it is obvious this is not the first occurence of such a happening as station staff with buckets of sand are at the ready. The train has a new livery too. Shit brown to be precise and you can't see out of the windows. Anyway not many get out and we proceed to Whitechapel where, thank the Lord, it is absolutely bucketing down and the train gets a good wash. We are told once again to tip out and go east which we do all the way to Upminster Depot.

The total time it took to go from Barking to Whitechapel was over 3 hours. BUT WASN'T IT FUN!!

Comments

T'aint Fare

Mon, 20 Feb 2006 12:47:29 +0100

Pouring with rain and the lady collector is sitting her little sentry box at Rotherhithe waiting for some of the populace to get off trains. A train is heard arriving down below and sure enough shortly after this heads and bodies hove into view coming up the escalator. The first are normal run-of-the-mill people coming home from work.Then a wonderful sight assails her eyes for ascending the moving stairs is an apparition. It is a 'Punk Rocker' in all his finery. Leather clothing, chains, badges, safety pins and all topped by the most beautiful spiked haircut you ever saw!

Not only that but the hair was multi-coloured like a rainbow on legs. 'I ain't gorra tikkit' says this vision. Now this is not unusual for the species so the lady TC says 'Where've you come from?' This brings a surprise in the the gent tells the truth and states where he actually HAS come from and not the previous station as they usually do.

'I just come from dahn Tootin' says the leatherclad lad. 'Ah, well thats £1.90 for you and 70p for your Parrot' .............Even the boy laughed.

Comments

It's much quicker.

Mon, 20 Feb 2006 12:27:48 +0100

A nice pleasant sunny morning at Hammersmith [District & Picaddilly] and a train is being held for time. A very 'poash' looking lady descends the stairs and sashays across the platform all fur and feathers. On reaching the train she adresses the Guard. 'I say, you there, my man' she warbles. 'Which is the quickest way to get to County Hall?' As she says this the starting signal clears and the Guard closes the doors. Being addressed as 'you there' and 'my man' has rather put his nose out of joint so he replies 'On the back of a fire engine Madam' and rings the bell and the train departs.

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