Rainy Days & Diesels

October already!  Where has the year gone?  It barely seems a few weeks since I joined the NVR and began life as a working volunteer at the Diesel Gala in March – and now here I am, a seasoned veteran officiating at the autumn diesel gala, which is the final big weekend event in the railway’s calendar.

The gala ran for three days, and I worked Saturday and Sunday on the trains as TTI.  Overall the atmosphere was pretty good, although there was the usual lack of manners and politeness that accompanies these events – in marked contrast to steam and family days.  This was particularly noticeable after last week’s 1940’s event where everyone was open and friendly.  The diesel crowd, by and large, stick their heads into Nikons and timetables and generally ignore everyone else around them unless they are part of their particular clique.  They also resent being asked to show tickets on board the trains, but the reason we ask to see them is that the diesel followers are notorious for resenting having to pay to travel on the trains in the first place – hence the need for regular inspections!  Also, because they insist on leaving one train at a station and then jumping aboard another train to go back behind a different loco, they come across several roving TTI’s during the day – but as we may not have seen them before, we don’t know that, “I’ve shown you my ticket a dozen times already.”  C’est la vie.

That aside, things went rather well.  We had a dazzling selection of motive power to hand, from class 08 up to 66 with pretty much everything in between.  Highlights of the gala depended upon personal preferences, but for me the class 52 Western D1062 Western Courier in maroon livery topped the bill, with 50135 Ark Royal close behind.  The Hoover was adorned in Loadhaul livery, which of course it never carried, so I wasn’t expecting to be impressed.  In the event, however, the loco actually suited this scheme far more than some liveries it did carry in BR service.

Three rakes of coaches were pressed into service, and being the NVR, we did this in our usual quirky fashion.  Set 1 was a five-car Mk1 rake – nothing unusual there.  Set 2 consisted of the four DSB opens plus the Belgian sliding door coach.  This vehicle was, of course, incompatible with the DSB’s so had no through corridor connection.  Set 3 was the most eclectic rake of the lot.  Normally we’d use the Wagon Lit set, but this is away earning a living on a filming contract.  We could have hired in a set of coaches, but we’d sooner do things our way.  So we got the non-operational twin-car DMU, coupled it up to two spare TPO coaches and stuck a Mk 1 TSO on the end.  Passengers were permitted to travel in one TPO, which is fine if you don’t want any light or even a window to look out of.  There was also only one seat, as this was the stowage vehicle!  Let’s just say that ticket inspections in this vehicle were quick and easy …

Not quite as it may appear!  A very rare chance to 

photograph the terminally ill DMU in passenger service - sort of.

Thanks to great teamwork on behalf of the loco crews, yard staff and signalbox, we kept the intensive service running pretty much on time for all three days.  Ironically the only real slip up came on Saturday night when we ran a single rake of coaches on two Wansford – Peterborough and return trips as Beer-Ex trains.  The Western was at one end, and two 37’s at the other.  Although plenty of NVR staff would ride these trains on an off-duty basis, I’d volunteered to stay on duty for these services as I don’t generally drink so wasn’t bothered about signing off and having a pint.  What I was really after was some nocturnal photography to try out my new shutter release cable, and planned to ride the trains, photograph them back at Wansford then do a night time shoot around the depot.  What could possibly go wrong?

I soon found out.  The Western failed at Wansford.  Not a total calamity with a dozen replacement locos lying around the place, but the logistics conspired against us.  In order to stick a new loco onto the front of the train, the whole consist had to be shunted out of the station.  You can’t shunt with passengers on board, so everyone had to be turfed off.  And who do you think got handed that enviable task?  The only idiot still on duty, that’s who.  The compartment coaches weren’t so bad; stick head in, announce the bad news and run away.  The TSO was a different matter.  Located immediately behind the recalcitrant loco, this coach was full of diehard Western fans who wanted some good nocturnal Maybach thrash accompanied by a pint.  Or five.  Telling them that the loco was knackered was one thing.  Chucking them off the train was another, especially as the weather, which had been very kind all day, had now turned and was chucking it down.  People were not happy.  People let me know they weren’t happy.  I felt about as popular as a ham sandwich in a mosque.

At length Control took control and chucked 50135 on top of the Western so that we could finally get going.  And when we got going, we went in fine style.  I took an executive decision not to do a ticket inspection for health and safety reasons as I would have been a Christian entering a TSO of well-oiled lions.  Some things are best left alone.  On arrival back at Wansford it was really pouring down, and I reluctantly cancelled my photoshoot around the depot.  I did manage some nice station shots, however, as I could work undercover and experiment with timings to get the best results.  In this respect the rain actually helped out, as the wet platforms provided some reflections that illuminated the station and added to the overall scene. 

It could almost be Plymouth and The Night Riviera.

The rain continued all day Sunday, varying between heavy downpours and very heavy downpours.  Passenger numbers were lower, and working the trains was a lot easier.  It also meant that I had the chance to do a spot of photography, including legging it out of Wansford so that I could get a lineside shot of the Western in action, as opposed to station and yard shots.  This picture was worth the inevitable soaking that resulted from my mad dash – the things I do for pleasure.

D1062 leaving Newquay for Paddington in '65.  I wish!

We received some good feedback about the gala via the various relevant forums that deal in such matters, or so I’ve been told.  We were praised for the choice of locos, running the advertised service, providing the locos that we said we would run and keeping it all together.  I felt that it was a big improvement over the Spring gala, and overall the mood seemed better and less intense.  

And so that pretty much brings the Nene Valley season to a close.  We’re still running up until the end of October and round off with Thomas having a spooky Halloween evening.  This is followed by a Fireworks Fiesta on 6 November before preparations commence in earnest for the Santa Specials to complete the year.

The rain hammers down at Wansford - not readily visible here, but the full set 

of larger images should shortly appear in Steamy Scenes photo galleries.

You Ask For a Shed, & Get a Couple of ED's!

Sunday proved to be quite an interesting occasion at the NVR, when no less than three visiting locomotives turned up and presented us with the opportunity to hold a mini Diesel Gala.  In truth, we were expecting a visiting GBRf class 66, which we got – what wasn’t anticipated was a pair of class 73’s attached to it!  It transpired that the class 73’s were ‘in the way’ to use highly technical railway jargon, so rather than move them, they were tacked onto the 66 and sent down to Wansford.

It was all part of a GBRf Gala Day, which offered a carboot sale at Wansford and, er, some other stuff I didn’t really notice.  The carboot sale was pitiful; four cars selling tat and a man punting wicker baskets seems a little underwhelming to me, although I’m no expert in this field.  Perhaps it was all part of the ‘less is more’ way of thinking.  So let me assure you that less is definitely less in this case.

Fortunately the visiting locos provided recompense for the dismal attractions not on offer.  They did, however, bring their own particular brand of problems – notably contemporary diesel fans.  These people are a totally different breed to your average railway enthusiast, and cause so many behavioural problems that a lot of regular volunteers won’t work at the Diesel Galas.  Indeed, I recounted my own experiences at the last gala in March.  Different loco classes attract different fans, and whilst some – notably the class 31 followers – are the most laid back, friendly and down to earth group you could hope to meet, the class 66 followers are often bullish, arrogant and downright rude.  They carry a couple of grand’s worth of camera kit around, but will jump a fence to avoid paying the £12 fare to ride behind their dream loco.

To even the score up a bit, the NVR relied on its secret weapon – THOMAS!  Yes, Thomas was in steam as booked, hauling the Yarwell shuttle.  The same coaches then worked the Wansford – Peterborough section behind a diesel with our resident class 14 on the first train; the 73’s on the second, class 66 on the third and back to the 14 for the last train.  The coaches were our Danish (DSB) open vehicles that added to the pot pourri nature of the day.

Now I have to say that when a train’s passenger list consists of 50% Thomas kids and parents having a day out, and 50% diehard class 66 groupies waving Nikons around, the atmosphere onboard the trains was interesting to say the least!  Some of the 66 group got into the spirit of the day, to be fair, and were quite laid back about Thomas’ haunted tunnel.  But later on at Wansford I was trying to herd passengers onto the already late running afternoon service when I was told, “We’re not getting on this train until that bloody kettle thing is removed!”  This lot were all in their late 40’s / early 50’s, so I can only assume that with the level of maturity on display, they must work for Elf n’ Safety.  Or a Town Council.  Or the Highways Agency.  And I'm sure some of them must have designed the new junction on Grantham's High Street.

I also got another telling off by one irate idiot, sorry, passenger, who bemoaned the fact that he hadn’t been issued with an authentic Edmondson style card ticket.  These tickets were extremely important, he informed me at length, because he logs every detail of the trip and then attaches the ticket to the relevant page.  Printed till receipts don’t cut a lot of ice, it would seem.  I tried the sensible and rational explanation, which got me nowhere – so I turned the argument on its head.  “Sir, you’re travelling in a Danish carriage behind Thomas The Tank Engine through a haunted tunnel in the middle of Cambridgeshire.  Just how much authenticity can you take in one day?”  He didn’t seem to like that much, although the family in seating bay opposite certainly did!

More daft comments were heard by a colleague, Old Arkwright, who works at Orton Mere Station.  You can read his accounts about the day here.

The event was not particularly well publicised by the organisers so passenger numbers were relatively low, which as far as being on duty on the trains went was a good thing.  We were able to keep control of the coaches and do full ticket inspections – during Diesel Galas you simply can’t get from one end of the train to the other, and two or three TTI’s are required on each train.

Overall it was an interesting, albeit hard day to be on duty.  It made a nice change to ride behind different locos and get some novel photos.  Although I have to say that I dropped an almighty clanger here, and set up the camera with ridiculous settings that resulted in enough noise on the photos to make them look as if they were from 1926.  It took a fair bit of editing to get a set suitable for publication.  Normally I’d just delete them and try again, but as this was such a unique event I just had to bite the bullet and sort them out.

Dieselly Led - Photos

The photos from the Nene Valley Railway Diesel Gala may now be viewed here. As I was ostensibly working during the gala, there's not much variety in terms of locations or composition. In truth, I was grabbing quick snaps whenever there was a quiet moment on Wansford Station during my mornings on the ticket barrier. Afternoons saw me working on the trains, so I popped out for some shots as locos ran round at Peterborough and Yarwell.

This was the debut of my new camera, and I just put it into auto mode and took pictures. I'm pleased that the camera coped very well with some difficult conditions, including shooting directly into the sun, low light and sunset. Since then I've even read the manual - well, a few pages at least - and with some practise at various techniques, the camera seems to offer great potential.

Dieselly Led

Last weekend I started as a working volunteer on the Nene Valley Railway, so this weekend I plunged headfirst into one of the busiest events of the year – The Spring Diesel Gala. My chosen role, covered in the previous post, is Travelling Ticket Inspector – and that role is being expanded to Booking Office and all things ticketing related in the future. The gala was already staffed by the time I joined, but extra hands are always welcome on such occasions as it provides more flexibility – and for me, an excellent opportunity to learn the job and meet other members.

The duty began at 07:30, but worth arriving early in order to fill up on one of Jayne’s breakfasts – and on a gala day, fill up when you can. Consequently I made sure on Sunday that I was at Wansford early doors! Once things kick off, there’s no going back. My roster for the morning meant that I would man the ticket gate at the platform entrance. Well, I am the new boy! However, I discovered it was the prime place to be given my position as new starter, as everybody had to come past at some point. Thus I got to meet many people who I’d work with later on, and it was an opportunity to match names with faces of the volunteers. I also met a number of familiar faces from the model railway exhibition circuit – but when you see such people out of their natural environment, you think, ‘I know you from somewhere …’ During quiet moments I also had the chance to play with my new camera, and early results are pleasing.

A quiet moment at Wansford, reminiscent of the Sixties.

My role on the ticket gate was to ensure that everybody had a valid ticket to travel on the trains, or a platform ticket if they just wanted to see the locos parked up on shed and run through the station. Passengers were no problem – they had all purchased tickets at the booking office, and were quite happy to produce them for inspection. The platform tickets were another matter! Several photographers resented having to contribute to the (significant) expense of putting on the event, and expected to wander around for free. This sort of behaviour was annoying on several counts –

- The Railway is a charity, not a business that makes a profit for shareholders.

- Galas are very expensive to organise, due to the costs of the visiting locos.

- The line is 7 miles long, and 5 miles of it runs adjacent to a public footpath – so there is ample opportunity to take excellent photographs for free. Of course, this means that some walking is involved, and these days getting from the car to the counter in McDonalds manages to tax a sizeable (in every sense) portion of the population, so a bit of linesiding is certainly out of the question.

Don't want to buy a platform ticket? This shot was taken less than

one minute's walk from the station. Amazing what you can find if you actually look!

Generally speaking, most people happily paid up and indeed they became regulars passing in and out of the barrier from the platform to the café and toilets etc, which meant that it was possible to build up a good rapport – the overall atmosphere was pleasurable and friendly. Two incidents stood out, however. The first man approached early on Saturday morning and I asked for his ticket.

“I don’t need one, I’m a founder member.”

“Unless you’re a working member, with a pass, you have to pay.”

“I’ve never paid before!”

“Welcome to my world sir. No ticket, no entry.”

With that he stomped off to the booking office to complain. And returned five minutes later with – a valid platform ticket!

I made a point of scrutinising his ticket while he moaned about the travesty of having to pay money to visit the line, which, by all accounts, he had built single-handed. My reply was simple, “Surely sir, as a founder member of the line, you will wish to actively contribute to the running of galas like this, and will therefore endorse the raising of revenue to ensure that such events may be held in the future?”

That stopped him in his tracks, and off he went, muttering away under his breath. But I’d made my (very valid) point.

The second occurrence was on Sunday, and even more bizarre. A man pushed past me on the barrier, so I stopped him and asked for a ticket.

“I don’t need one,” was the flat reply.

“I’ll make that decision,” I replied. He sighed, and said, “I’m here for the class 66. I have to go and see it to see if I want to travel behind it.”

“Then you’ll need a platform ticket to go and see it, won’t you sir?”

He sighed again, and with exaggerated slow speech as if to a young child said, “You don’t understand. I’ve come a considerable distance to travel behind the 66. But I need to see which 66 it is before I make up my mind if I’m going to travel behind it.”

Unperturbed, and with equally exaggerated slow speech I told him, “No sir, it is you who doesn’t understand. To view the loco that you have travelled a considerable distance to travel behind, but don’t know if you want to travel behind it now that you’re here, you will either need to purchase a travel ticket to ride on it, or a platform ticket to look at it.”

“And how can I decide to travel behind it if I don’t know what it is?” he asked, playing right into my hands.

“By purchasing a platform ticket and going to look at it.” How hard can it be, I wondered. By now he understood that he was getting nowhere and tried a different tack. “I don’t suppose you know which loco it is?” he sneered.

“I don’t suppose I do,” I agreed. Of course, had he been polite and pleasant I could have found out in less than 30 seconds, but he hadn’t so I didn’t.

“I suggest you ask at the booking office – they have a list in there. You can buy a ticket while you’re there,” I added helpfully. Scowling, off he went. Shortly afterwards he was back, waving a travel ticket in my face.

“You were quite, quite wrong,” he smirked. “They don’t know which loco it is either. You lot don’t seem to know anything much about anything, do you?”

“Well sir, I know an arse from an elbow and I know what I’m looking at right now and it's not an elbow. Next class 66 hauled train leaves at 15:00; have a pleasant trip, sir.”

He wasn’t expecting that – actually, neither was I, it just slipped out. Must be my day job coming to the fore. Still, it shut him up once and for all because he stalked off down the platform and I didn’t have the pleasure of his company again.

Of course the booking office had got the loco roster, but faced with his attitude, temporary amnesia had set in. But to my mind, if you’re travelling a ‘considerable distance’ to travel behind a loco, wouldn’t you check first and find out what it is? I found out later from members interested in such things that news about this loco – 66720 as it happens – was all over the relevant forums and websites as it would be the first time it had hauled a passenger train, and was thus a huge crowd puller.

So that's what all the fuss was about. Happy punters enjoy the inaugural

passenger run behind 66720 as it departs from Wansford with the Wagon Lits.

Some other unknown person also disagreed about the charge for platform tickets, because mid morning on Saturday we found that the lock on the bolted gate that provides access to platform 3 had been smashed to give free access via that particular route. Hope his mother’s proud of him. But those three incidents aside, the vast majority of visitors were very friendly and pleasant and working the gate was good fun, if a touch cold.

On the Saturday, I didn’t know all that many of the volunteers, and whilst those in appropriate uniforms of drivers and traincrew were easy to spot, some came through in civvies and promptly got stopped at the gate for a ticket – including the event organiser, who was quite bemused to find out that he needed a ticket for his own gala! Nevertheless, this was a good means of finding out who was who, and if nothing else it proved that I was doing my job. Just wait till I get my peaked cap!

In the afternoons I swapped roles and went aboard some of the trains as Travelling Ticket Inspector (TTI). Three rakes of coaches were in operation on an intensive timetable, so there was plenty of activity. The 5-car BR MK1 set was popular, but harder to work as it consisted mainly of compartments that take much longer to check. The four car Danish set was a doddle – open coaches with wide gangways that were quick and easy to walk through made the job simplicity itself.

The DSB rake before departure.

The Wagon-Lits rake was only three cars long as the fourth coach is in for overhaul, but was jam packed for much of the gala as the class 66 was working it (being the only air-braked set that it could haul). I didn’t set foot on this set until the very last train on the Sunday, and by then my roster had ended. However, by that stage all the other TTI’s had knocked off and there was no one left to man the train, so I volunteered – partly because of my inbuilt sense of duty to see the job done properly, and partly because the last train was double-headed by a pair of class 31’s with the crew determined for some good old fashioned thrash. Okay, okay - it was entirely the chance to ride the class 31’s and Wagon-Lits, as I find these coaches fascinating and relish any opportunity to travel on them – they’re worth a blog post of their own at some stage. There's something to look forward to.

The atmosphere on board the trains was great, and because almost everybody had seen me on the ticket gate there was plenty of banter and greetings that made the trips very entertaining. Everyone on the trains was well behaved and there didn’t seem to be any of the loutish behaviour I’ve seen elsewhere at Diesel Galas. Even the handful of members of the general public who turned up not knowing what was going on enjoyed their visits and the general atmosphere, which was gratifying.

Class 40 on the Mk1 rake prepares to depart from Yarwell.

Overall it was a great experience to view such an event from an entirely new perspective, and I thoroughly enjoyed the two days. I certainly felt (and can still feel!) the after effects of two 11 hour shifts spent standing and walking for the whole time, but it was satisfying to be part of something. I found the volunteers to be friendly and welcoming, and thoughtful touches such as regular coffees being brought out to me on the ticket gate were very welcome indeed – especially on Sunday morning, when the temperature began at –5°. The Peak wouldn’t start from cold, and I knew how it felt - it took three coffees and a bacon butty before I could even contemplate getting out onto the barrier.

Sunday evening at 18:30, and the last train has arrived back

at Wansford after an exhilarating weekend. Time to go home!

My next rostered turn is 28th March in the Booking Office, so I’m looking forward to trying out another new role.

All photos taken on my new Panasonic TZ6 camera, using only Intelligent Auto mode as I haven't had time to read the book yet. As usual. But so far so good.

NVR Diesel Gala - The Movie

Grumpy Git Productions presents the highlights from last weekend’s Diesel Gala at the Nene Valley Railway. I’ve not gone for any effects or story here; just six minutes of good old-fashioned lineside footage featuring the locos in action.

My personal highlights were the class 25 and 40 (both in BR green) working the crimson and cream MK1 set, both singly and double-headed. I would have liked to have used the original audio of the locos working on this film. Sadly, there was just too much intrusive wind noise captured by the camera that spoilt it. Secondly, the NVR is a very flat line, with various speed restrictions that prevent the locos from being powered up for a bit of thrash. For those reasons, I decided to use music instead of the English Electric Light Orchestra’s symphony that was recorded on the day.