Tales from the Ex-Maritime Romney rodent!
Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody,
26th August 2009
Black and White.
While black and white signal posts featured in my last letter, the other matter concerning things black and white is the bloody cat that seems to wander around the site with impyoonity. This beast will have to be removed, thrown out, or evicted, no matter what. When one considers this and the increase in Fox population, the railway is being over run by vermin. Time they were all stamped out.
It is all in a Name.
I notice in the national press that according to a crowd of head hunters, there appears to be a trend in the more popular names for those taking senior positions in industry to have come from the bible. David appears to be the most common, closely followed by John, Paul and Peter. Jacobs, seem to have fallen by the wayside. But what is notable is that, particularly for Monty Python fans, the name Brian is taking its place amongst Chief Executives. It therefore may mean that our Mr Brian Williams may be chosen for greater things, of course we must not forget the Thane of Morayshire, Ol'Da to those in the know, who may be in the frame for the Chief Executives position in one of our leading finance houses. There will be a tight rein in that outfit then?
Twinkle toes is no weel.
Head of Toffee (Trading Operational Financial Failure Evaluation Executive ) Is going about like a demented hen, since Twinkle Toes was taken into dry dock. He has nobody to blame, nobody to accuse, nobody to stitch up and nobody to build a false case around. Something will have to happen soon, or Head of Toffee will have seizure of some kind. But there again he is always having seizures.
Something Catching.
It has been reported that many frequent global and national travellers are choosing to use forms of transport that involve fewer numbers per vehicle. Their concern is that to mix with too many of the world's riff raff, at any one time, places them at risk to catch Swine Flu. This choice of alternative conveyance can be a private jet or limousine, therefore, is the preserve of the wealthy. Our railtour company has taken heed of the situation and it is reported that only those who appear to fit the wealth parameters are to be allowed to book First Class. All others, infected or not, will be squeezed into Second Class coaches and the Guard's Van. No pigs in First Class appears to be the policy. Nice of the well heeled to show such consideration.
Pit for Bath.
The in house research and development team, have been given the task of finding a better and less time consuming way of cleaning the Wheels and Side Frames of Locomotives. Their efforts have come up with a plan that can only be described as visionary. The main crux of which is to widen the pit at the water tower and lay the railway lines along the bottom of the pit. Then when the need arose to clean an Engine one just fills the pit with a detergent and water mix. After running the engine through the pit a few times, hey presto, a clean engine. Is it not good that some people are thinking on the railway. What Mr R Hill has to say on this matter has not been reported.
Hat scraper.
The same team have also designed a novel way of cleaning the driver's and firemen's grease top hats. This has been achieved and put into practise on Bo'ness platform, in the way that the flower baskets are hung. Their guinea pig for the introduction of this facility was none other than Leading Driver Mr J. Leggat. Mr Leggat (JAL to others) demonstrated the usefulness of the invention, by walking under the aforementioned baskets, and allowing the hanging fronds scrape his hat clean. It will be found that this invention only satisfies the need, if you are a short arse, like Mr Leggat.
Suck Squeeze Bang Blow Machines.
Congratulations to Mr Tony Dance in becoming a passed out Driver of Diesel Engines.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 21st July 2009
Signal Post
Due to an altercation amongst the Civil's Squad, there was an unexpected occurrence due to the heated discussion as to the exact location of the signal post at Manuel. There was a difference of opinion as where it was to be positioned, our honourable leader having emphasised the point at where it was to be installed several times, said “ due you want it in Black and White”. Hey presto we now have a Black and White striped signal post. Something similar to the old bus stops. I wish to take this opportunity to point out that the colour scheme of the Signal Post has nothing to do with the fact that Graham Scott is in mourning for Newcastle's recent performance, at their favourite sport. Behold the new signal post, all in Black and White, in photograph below.
A proper works train
Photograph by David Heath
Expiry dates on season tickets.
It has come to my attention that there have been instances where the on board revenue protection team have refused to accept a Life Membership ticket. The reason given to the disgruntled ticket holder, was that there is no expiry date on it. The guard in question may have direct contact with the almighty and suspected the ticket holder was possibly a ghost. You must admit these guards are very thorough.
Get Hooked
There they were all keen and smart
In and out of the engines they did dart
Engine ready gleaming and clean
all prepared, in public to be seen
Number one in red and Blue,
was on the train when it was due,
But the attaching link was big and heavy,
A lighter one would be made ready.
Messrs Johnston and Clarke
searched deep in the dark
of the running shed pit
to find a bit that would fit
Lo and behold to their surprise
a suitable lump of metal did arise.
A link with a double screw,
“By jove Neelie this will do.”
They clean it up with oil and rag
main pin and split pin in the bag
Poised like pit staff, Formula one
before you can blink the'll have it done.
Engine returns from duty of traction,
Team Clarke & Johnston swing into action
Their purpose determined new one, no mess
old one off now lying in the cess.
Alas alack this is now the bitter bit,
The new one to go does not fit,
All this happening in the pouring rain
had to put the old link, on again.
Parrot fashion
While many observers stop and look at the Civil's labouring away on the track, some pass comment some are local urchins with wise cracks that are generally old hat, but always impertinent. Lo and behold a gentlemen with a parrot on his shoulder stopped and gave words of encouragement. Our Honourable Chairman asked if pretty polly would care to join the Civil's group. The reply would not add much to this report, particularly after the creature emptied the contacts of its bowels down the back of its owner. But it does allow one to recall the role that parrots played in railway history. Many years ago the shed foreman at Eastfield had a parrot in his office which as most parrots do, imitated the shed foreman's North Glasgow accent faultlessly. Quite often the Coal distribution manager for the LNER would call up and ask how much coal was required for the next two weeks and equally as often the foreman was caught on the hop and would nip out to the coal ree to check how much was required. The parrot developed the habit of answering into the hand set lying on the desk, with a quantity far in excess of what was needed. Having done so and proud of its achievement, the parrot then perched up on the receiver rest, thus effectively ending the call. In the hubbub of a busy shed the foreman forgot all about the call until several long trains arrived with the duly ordered coal. This situation happened more than once until letters started arriving from LNER Headquarters asking Glasgow operations why they were needing so much coal, without the expected increase in revenue. The foreman eventually realised what had been happening, having caught the Parrot in the act one day. He was not best pleased and grabbed the parrot and threatened it with an early demise, but relented and threw it under one the side benches in the office. As misfortune would have it, the Duty Eastfield cat was in the vicinity at the time and it was kicked under the side benches also, coming to rest against the frightened Parrot. The Parrot looked at the cat and said, How many tons of coal did you order.
Foxed
There is concern that the fox population in the yard at Bo'ness is growing fast. Such has been the case since I and my Cousin Pothlewaite, stopped having fox hunts in the Romney Hut. This situation will have to be reconsidered. Meanwhile I do suggest that the model railway crowd chase them out from under the Norwegian Coaches. We'll deal with them later, the foxes I mean.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody,
8th June 2009
Birkhill.
Uncle Corrour is more than pleased with the completion of the extension to the platform at Birkhill. So pleased he is that he and all his weans have moved back into the area, just above the catch all netting at the Southern end. He seems to have a struck up a rapport with the resident Badgers, which is change, for he is usually stuck up and will not co-operate with anyone. The voyage round the world with the Birkhill Ocean Racing Club, must have done him some good.
Trains will not stop.
As has been reported in the national press, more trains will not stop at intermediate stations, which of course is the only way to run a fast and frequent service. It must be realised by those who criticise the measure, that passengers are a nuisance and require seats and platform facilities together with stopping trains, so that they are able to climb aboard. It must be understood that trains that have no passengers aboard and don't stop, have a much lower carbon foot print. Now that must be good for everyone, if you want to go anywhere just jump on a bus and let the fast and frequent trains carry on running round the country empty.
While there have been a number of complaints about the policy described above, the Train Operating Companies are insistent that it is the way ahead. Give them their due, they have relented a little and come with an alternative idea. What is not understood by the general public, is that this policy of not stopping at the intermediate stations is a precursor of not stopping the trains at any station. With a few track modifications the trains will run in circuits like Glasgow, Edinburgh, Newcastle York, London, Crewe, Preston, Carlisle and Glasgow. The trains will run with their doors open and anyone can leap in or out as it passes. It is believed that Old Da ( Thane of Morayshire ), is going to start boarding and disembarking classes at Motherwell Station. Motherwell station has been chosen because it is the first casualty of the non stopping policy, furthermore it is very close to where Old Da has his family seat. There is of course plans afoot that the new non stopping trains will have no seats, just padded vestibules to allow a soft landing, as the intending passengers hurtle their way aboard. Eh, the way ahead is peppered with challenges.
Bonus Track
You will have noticed that Transport for Edinburgh TfE have awarded themselves bonuses, for running a project that appears to be late and over budget. To redress this commercial imbalance with those that work on the track on the Bo'ness and Kinneil, it has been decided to award bonuses. James, our Honourable Chairman is to be given two tons of ballast for his own use, Lawrence a specially selected number of old sleepers and Donald will just have to make do with two levers and half a mile of point rodding. How the society can stand such extravagance I do not know.
Escape bid
There appears to be a level of discontent amongst the Locomotives in the running shed, the situation having deteriorated so much, that the Y9 tried to get the hell out of it. The cause of the altercation which resulted in the Y9 leaping out through the closed west end doors, without as much as by your leave or farewell, is unknown. When the reasons are made clear the matter will be treated to my usual legendary embellishments.
Expiration
It always enlightening to hear of fashion in all walks of life, but for Blast Pipe the Society's leading journal to suggest that there is an old fashioned way to die, ( page 4 Summer Issue), must mean that there is an “in fashion” way to do it. All those interested be there on the clandestine express to Birkhill on the evening of the 20th of June. Orient Express eat your heart out.
Flat lists
Overheard in the Romney Hut, “ no a philatelist is not somebody that has his name doon for a tenement in Mary Hull.”
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 24th April 2009
The trouble at mill seems to have gone away, since the cats have disappeared, do not ask where to, as the answer may be embarrassing. The fact is that Uncle Corrour and I are smothering ourselves in glory at the achievement and the back yard is now a cat free Zone.
Fast Track
You will have noticed that the progress with track maintenance has been going on a pace, with the level of improvements in quality of the permanent way, very noticeable.
You will have noticed the in depth development of both track and Signalling Equipment at Manuel particularly with reference to the North loop, or Station Loop.
You will have noticed the extension to the Platform at Birkhill.
You will have noticed that Edinburgh City Council have had a troubled relationship with their chosen contractor to build the Tramway from Leith to Turnhouse.
You will have noticed that our Honourable Chairman, along with Donald have been hingin aboot the City Chambers from time to time.
You will have by now noticed that there has been a fair amount of upheaval in Princes Street.
The solution to the problem is that should there be any further problems between the City Fathers and their contractors, the Civil's Group of the B & K would swing into action and complete the job. Now we know the real reason for the push to complete all the work required on the B&K. Two plots for the portacabins have already been ear marked in Shandwick Place. This information came to my ears while hiding behind the coal heap at the water tower, when the hierarchy of the Railway were discussing the aforementioned matters. I can therefore declare, that I was told over the coals.
Big scoop
Ken has carried out all the modifications necessary to enable the Manitou to operate with a shovel, to enable it to be used loading coal on to locomotives, or ballast into dogfish. I will not mention that another organised its first public display of its abilities. Nor would it be useful to record Ken's comments at that juncture.
Neither in nor oot
There was concern when the the pride of our operations was caught on less than perfect track at the entrance to the running shed. 80105 stuck half in or half out of the running shed.
The time had come the driver said,
to put the big black pug to bed,
With all preparation it was led,
into the open running shed.
Tom was in charge of the crew,
The steam was low but this he knew,
To push itself the air was blue,
There was no more he could do.
The men in blue stood all around,
Looking at rails and staring at the ground,
here a solution must be found,
Even if it is a diesel with a growling sound.
The diesel it would not start,
Not even a turn, a grunt, a fart
It had a battery that would not Bat.
All heads hung low and that was that.
But lo then a saviour came
with watts in store in a plastic frame.
A new battery for the pug that's lame
Chris got it started up again.
Then with some diesel puff,
into the shed with a huff and chuff,
when the going gets tough
A little push is quite enough.
Head of Retail
Twinkle Toes has asked, through an intermediary, that all those who helped at the LOGS stand at the Scottish Model Railway Exhibition at the SECC last February, be properly thanked for their efforts, which were carried out under difficult circumstances.
Dining cars
A lady travelling in the dining car of the Glasgow to Inverness train, was dithering on what to have for dinner. Was the chicken fresh? She asked the steward, who replied in the affirmative. She was still undecided and the steward mentioned that the cold tongue was recommended, but the lady protested that she would not eat anything out a creatures mouth. She settled on two boiled eggs.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 11 March 2009
There is trouble at mill I mean yard there are two many cats, yes both of them have to go. I have decided to call it quantative easing, the quantity is two and they are going to be eased out of the railway. It must be understood that catalysts, or any other kind of cat, will not be tolerated.
Sex in the cutting
And another thing that will not be tolerated, is being denied access to a full human size blow up doll, yes we are well aware that others, of the either the Civil's Squad or the S & T, found a tent complete with Doll and other items, somewhere near High Bridge fairly near the track on railway property and told no one else. In the absence of further information as to who belongs to aforementioned equipment, means that they cannot be returned to their rightful owner. Suffice to say that the immediate past Secretary General appears to be appraised of the situation, together with our honourable Chairman. Uncle Corrour and I are going to take this matter further and embellish the story where possible.
The green door.
Ken was distinctly displeased with the welding rods that would not provide a weld run that would stick to the new green door for the SLOG van. Even with Head of TOFFEE ( target operational financial failure evaluation executive), scowling at it did not help. The door was turned round and welded the other way, hey presto, the glue held. We will just ignore what Alex King said.
Doctor in our midst. It is considered a great honour for the Railway to have another university qualified personage, to grace the Headquarters at Bo'ness. David Wilson now has a degree, for for which we offer him our heartiest congratulations.
Half Track
Young Mr Lothian now knows what it is like to drive a shunter half on and half off the track.
To move a pug to move a coach,
is easy with the right approach,
it growling round the rails on site,
all going smoothly left and right,
With all the shunting in the rain,
moving up and down with a nice short train,
When all came and then went slack,
a pair of wheels are off the track.
With all the experts he could muster
many heads and know how, cluster,
With many curses shouts and wails,
Got the shunter back on the rails.
Lads
The ginger tom, dismissed in the first paragraph in last months letter, has reported back that the lads are busy with another dispute at the refinery in Grangemouth. But they will be back when things quieten down. No sign of them yet, they must have a more serious matter to deal with elsewhere.
Old Da's Glasses
It used to be keys he kept losing now it is glasses, no not pint glasses, optical type for providing improved vision. The alarm was raised after Old Da was found walking into the Romney Hut. I know that does not sound strange, but when he has his specs on, he uses the door. After retracing his steps, the escapee spectacles were recaptured at the bottom of the ladder to the sleeping coach. Mr Thomson's comments on the matter were visionary
In the wind
Heard in the wind coming out of the running shed. After a heated discussion about what he wis and what he wisnae g'on to dae, one volunteer said to the other. “That is right, you get yir retaliation in first.”
Blood and Fur
There has been a report that Mr Stevenson was not best pleased with the organisation of the Scottish Model Railway Show in February, at the SECC. This displeasure was caused by the SLOG having to perform in an oversized telephone box, in which to sell their wares. There now appears to be a risk, that SLOG will be charged for the cleaning up of the blood and fur on the floor of the Scottish Exhibition and Conference Centre. Head of Toffee's team have the matter under investigation. It is felt that Twinkle Toes, Slog's head of retail, should be congratulated for his sterling efforts under testing circumstances. This feeling is not extended by HEAD of TOFFEE, who feels that any form of accolade would only result in him not trying as hard next year.
55189 Final day
The train complete all coupled together,
all members board after a look at the weather,
A journey to Manuel for stare and a look,
but unable to go, for there is no sook.
They look for a leak in brake pipe system,
Despite extensive search it still defeats them,
No leak to be found by Guard or conductor,
Then somebody opened steam to the educter.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 01 Feb 09
Happy New year to you all
A bit late I know but the last few weeks have been hectic. The Ginger Tom Cat that had been very good at sending messages to us when we were on our global voyage, took umbrage at the fact that I had to inform, him that his services were no longer required. He has stormed off site saying he was going to tell the lads, we now await the lads with interest.
Must say that I am a bit cheesed off, because the area around the big compressor has been disturbed by Big Austerity Mashmole and the Travelling Heilander, when they were renewing the belts of the aforementioned compressor. Gone is the shaded walk we had from the Shaper Machine up past the milling machine, now comes to an abrupt end at the compressor. Gone are the delicately placed parts of an old Volkswagen engine and cooling air cowls, gone is the pile of rubbish including crisp packets, that were just about ready to become potatoes again. It must be stated that all this cleanliness is quite intolerable, people will start finding what they are looking for and do not give a tuppenny damn about us rodents. Mark my words, things will not be allowed to go on changing.
Homeless
Uncle Corrour is equally pissed off due to the platform extension at Birkhill where his domicile has been removed, so much for it being a listed mouse hole. Furthermore if he had been a Badger he would have had recourse to law, but being a British Railway Rodent he can only “get stuffed”. It has not been a good start for Uncle this year, because they are wanting him to pay for the repair of the A 80 at Longcroft and the unjamming of the Forth and Clyde Canal.
Tapping
It is rather sad that the wheel tapping demonstration that allowed visitors to National Railway Museum, to experience the difference when tapping a sound wheel to that of a defective one, is now discontinued because of Elf and Safety. It does bring to mind the Budd Neil cartoon in the Glasgow Evening Times in 1956, when the Swindon Inter City Units were just in service on the Edinburgh and Glasgow route. At the same time there was a oil crisis caused by the closure of the Suez Canal, hence all road fuel was rationed. The cartoon showed two fellas ( one was shown with a remarkable likeness of one Ronald Hill), with a 5 gallon can and a lump of hose, trying to get passed the ticket collector at the barrier in Queen Street Station. The caption was “ Y've heard O wheel tappers?, well we're tank tappers.”
I do believe that the new diesel storage tank at Eastfield had to be well guarded.
Discomforting
Rumour has it, that due to the poor level of upholstery on the driver's seats of our locomotives, the incidence of drivers suffering from Haemorrhoids is on the increase. Is it possible that our locomotives are being driven by pile drivers??
Burns
We are not talking about what happens to coal when we lay our hands on it, but our national Bard. It is now 250 years since his birth, mind you The Bard referred to us rodents as Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous, beasties, Wi' panics in our breastie. But he never met proper British Railway Rodents.
The mouse is wee and has a tail,
a head and legs, an a' that,
we have a belly, lugs and nose
but we are a rodent for a' that,
For a That an a' That
we live a life an a' that,
each day we dodge the traps and cats,
But the railway mouse tops a' that.
With apologies to Mr R Burns.
Lads
The ginger tom, dismissed in the first paragraph, has reported back that the lads are busy with another dispute at the refinery in Grangemouth. But they will be back when things quieten down.
Billy
Fireman Billy Willison is out off traffic for now, after an accident in his garage. We do hope that the repairs will soon be complete. Chief Executives are ten a penny, but good firemen are hard to come by. We look forward to seeing Billy on the footplate.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 22 Dec 08
The Royal Birkhill Sunk Club.
Due to difficulties beyond our understanding but well within our control, the authorities of the Forth and Clyde Canal permitted the polis to saw off Uncle Corrour's mast, the bit that was sticking up through the A80. This was done on the grounds that they wanted to open the road.
My dear Uncle did not see it that way, and demanded to be allowed to go home and instruct his solicitors. Since I was stuck behind Uncle Corrour's yacht, I packed a bag and caught the bus from Castle Cary to Falkirk, then to Bo'ness. We arrived to find a freezing Romney hut and the Environmental Control Technician in Chief, Mr A King was bemoaning the fact that the stove was not drawing. I knew it was Alex because he could be heard remonstrating with Alisdhair, neither of whom could be seen, due to the density of the fumes that were now filling the Romney Hut. No matter what they did the smoke went everywhere, except up the Lum. After Alisdhair agreed to assist in investigating the matter the fire was dropped into several buckets so we finished up with a few inefficient braziers out the back beside the Fair Maid.
The tale continues verbatim
Alisdhair ------- “ The chimney's probably blocked “
Alex ------------ “ How dae ye ken that”
Alisdhair ------- “ ther's nae smoke coming out the top when ye had the fire on.”
Alex -------------- “ Maybe there is a hole in it”
Alisdhair --------- “ There is supposed to be a hole in it.”
Alex -------------- “ How”
Alisdhair -------- “ Right up the middle of it to let the smoke out”
Alex ---------------” ok smart arse”
Plate at bend now removed
Alisdhair -------- “ see I told you there wis nae hole up the lum, it is blocked because the
innards of the last length. Have fallen down into the bend.”
Alex---------------- “ Whit will we dae”
Alisdhair --------- “ Take the chimney doon.”
Entire Lum removed and lying out on the concrete.
Ken Simpson enters stage left the following day. He assesses the situation and gathers a few lumps of steel together and manufactures a new lum. When all was ready Ken Alex and Santa Alisdhair, all huffed and puffed whit the aid of a fork lift truck put the chimney together again. Hey presto heat restored to the Romney Hut.
Toilets and Sewage
I notice in the railway press, that the office of the Railway Regulator has turned down a request from Network Rail to be allowed to charge extra for trains that are not fitted with sewage holding tanks. I wonder what they would have done with the money so collected, had they been allowed. Use it to buy Eau d' Cologne by the ton and spray it on the track behind the offending trains, or scatter an equal quantity of harpic power or domestos that kills 99% of all known germs, dead. Leaving the remaining 1% to gnaw away the concrete or steel sleepers. Such callousness should not be permitted.
Locks on doors
On the same vein as the last paragraph, ie highlighting the problems when people travel on trains and need to answer the call of nature. This situation is not by any means a new problem, as far as railways are concerned. When you consider the problems of providing toilet facilities in the more rural parts of the old North British Railway. A railway inspector of the aforementioned company, was carrying out his duties at Roy Bridge station during which he had cause to visit the dry lavatory that was provided. The inspector noticed that there was no lock or latch to hold the door closed when using the facility. He in turn instructed the Station Master to arrange for one to be fitted. A year or more later the same inspector was visiting Roy Bridge station again and immediately noticed that his instructions had not been carried out, as far as the toilet door was concerned. On requesting an explanation, the Station Master replied that he considered the fitting of a lock to the lavatory door was an unnecessary expense, as they had never lost a pail of shite in years.
A merry Christmas to all those loyal readers of this column.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from Castle Cary via (Cleft Stick )
Hello everybody, 15th Nov 08
The Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
Uncle Corrour and I have been navigating our respective Yachts homeward via the Bay of Biscay the Irish Sea and the Forth and Clyde Canal. Progress was steady as we sailed past Kilsyth cruising through Scotland's premier waterway when Uncle Corrour raised his mast to allow him to use his spinnaker. He claims it was a fuel and environmental saving measure, unfortunately he forgot to measure the clearance under the bridge between Longcroft and Castle Cary Viaduct that carries the M80 over the Canal. The end result was that he and his yacht along with Horace became jammed under the bridge, his mast sticking through the road and his keel rammed into the bottom of the Canal. We eventually found out that the local polis, fire brigade , Forth Valley Primary Care Trust and British Waterways Board, collectively have about the same level of Humour as the buggers who run the Panama Canal. Why they became so upset that the M80 was closed, I will never understand. Hence the origins of this months letter which we were going to send by firey cross, but elf and sayfti issues made it wiser to send it by cleft stick. We will arrive in Bo'ness before Christmas with a bit of luck.
Skids under
It has come to the attention of Network Rail, that the use of rolling stock that is fitted with toilets that discharge straight on to the track, is and has been for many years causing problems. It is reputed that the LNER had an immense problem, as had British rail, with quantity of raw sewage that was found flowing down the Six Foots, Fourfoots and the Cesses, in Gasworks Tunnel, a short distance from Kings Cross. This was caused by the fare paying punters making use of the on train facilities en mass, after the guard announced the train's imminent arrival at the Cross, as it hurtled through Finsbury Park. As can be imagined, the level of unwillingness by permanent way staff to work in this area was high. While the approach to Kings Cross was a notable disadvantage of on train toilets, a similar situation must have occurred on the approaches to all large terminus stations. It does give greater meaning to the yesteryear railway journalists, when describing the arrival of the Royal Scot into Glasgow Central from London, would describe the event in eloquent expressions such as “after only eight and a half hours from leaving the Capital, the great train slid effortlessly into platform two”. Maybe they knew more about the friction degradation of shit, than we have hither too given them credit.
Old Civil's Squad
One of the functions of old age is that eventually, if you have been blessed with children, is that the mantle of grandparent falls on to your shoulders. This is all very right and proper, until grandpa, grandad or whatever other title may be awarded, is asked to look after the weans. Since more and more of the members of the Civil's are falling into the aforementioned category , it has been suggested that creche facilities be provided in the Courier Coach, or a portable pen be erected on each work site. I am confident that our honourable Chairman will find a solution.
Money
From one of our leading politicians trying to justify the unjustifiable, described the spending of vast sums of money that we do not have as. “ reverse cyclic investment”. And there I was worried that they did not know what they were doing.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from Vigo (via Satellite)
Hello everybody, 1st Oct 08
The Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
Have been kept up to date by the two resident correspondents in Bo'ness, Hamish and McTavish, no, not Hamish McTavish, Hamish the Bristish Railway Moushe and McTavish the Squirrel. Must find a new set of false teeth.
We remained in Northern Spain because the VIP, mentioned in last Months letter, was returning via Vigo after his cruise. A great time was had by all and our friend Horace was in more passenger ship galley's than you could shake a dead cat at, therefore, he is more rotund than ever.
Old Friends
During our journeys we have often talked about our friends in Bo'ness and how much we miss them, so I was persuaded by others to focus on one or more of our friends, each month.
October's personage of the month is our old friend Ebeneezer. Ebeneezer is the Railway's senior Steam Locomotive Technocrat, who is a world authority on Whisky and Mince, ( not necessarily in the same glass).
Ebeneezer
Please do not be fooled into thinking that the cardboard valise he is carrying is a make do tool box, it is actually full of copying paper.
No Hoot or TooT
Not one to to be labelled a clipe, but there appears to be a serious loss of Hoot on the 165DE, No P6687, ex Babcock and Wilcox. Now I could disguise the identity of the culprit but we all know that it was Lee daddy boy Sutherland that broke the whistle, so Buses says. The embarrassing result is that Daddy Boy could not blow his own trumpet.
Geriatrics to the rescue.
Ever punctual Low Loader from Messrs A Goodman, made its presence felt one Monday when it was to pick up the tender for the Big Green Pug. After all the loading preparations were complete, the driver discovered that the winch engine on the trailer would not work. Alisdhair was summoned from the depths of the Romney Hut and Neilly appeared from the depths of Bo'ness. Together they bypassed the fuel filter and the fuel service pump and low and behold there was power. Amazing what two greetin faced old buggers can do, when you do not have a Diesel Driver and a Barrier Wagon to hand.
The Railway's Brigadoon.
The observant among you, having read the report and financial statements, published by The Scottish Railway Preservation Society, for the year ending 31st March 2008, will have noticed that in the membership movement category, that three people, yes only three, have taken advantage of the away day to Goneaway.
There are many interesting journeys to be had,
Some wonderful, exotic, some dull or even bad.
But none so good and so it should, on any sunny day,
to leap aboard and spend the day in beautiful Goneaway.
There are so many tickets now that no one really knows,
Some may give you money off, but you really pay through the nose.
There are apex savers, super savers or single all the way,
But best of all is cash on the nail for a return to Goneaway.
The beach is so magnificent that it goes on for evermore.
The weather always perfect, as you walk along the shore.
The meadows, mountains, bubbling brooks and pubs along the way.
What better way to live this dream than a day return from Goneaway.
Many thanks to Mary Rex who keeps track of all of us.
Sunk by a sink
Two leading technicians, Alisdhair and Jim, focussed their tremendous efforts on the running shed bothy wash hand basin. Alisdhair made a take over bid for Screwfix, but failed and had to be content with just the items he needed. Jim arrived with a enough equipment that would have been sufficient to do a ten year overhaul for 419. The end result after the basin was removed from the wall and new pipework installed, basin refitted and it still leaked. It was left in disgust, but after a couple of weeks it was working with no leaks. Jim and Alisdhair have asked me to pass their profound thanks to whoever repaired the leaks.
Money
As reported in the National press, a certain leading banker said “ we are a strongly capitalised bank now undertaking a complex transition with regrettable job losses, but we are planning to put the problems of the past behind us and have a business which is fit for purpose, going forward.”
This financial institution was nationalised the following day.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from mid Atlantic (via message in a bottle)
Hello everybody, 1st Aug 08
The Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
Have been concerned that our new correspondent, Hamish, has been a bit sluggish in sending the monthly report to me. But do not fear we have a stand in, or rather a squirrel called McTavish, who has taken up his duties with a flourish.
We had intended to sail from the Azores to Southampton for the Boat Show, but McTavish reported to us that a VIP is going to arrive at the port of Corruna, in Northern Spain, on board a P & O Cruise Liner. Therefore, we have changed course for Corruna to make the necessary preparations for his arrival. A team of RRE's ( Railway Rodents Espania ). The VIP is none than the illustrious Mr A King, an eminent member of the SRPS, who is doing the North Atlantic Island Ring. We wish him a pleasant voyage.
Bent Pipes
On the right hand side Main Piston Gland of No 19, an Austerity of great import, there was a lubricating pipe, of delicate shape and delectable curves, fashioned precisely to meet the exacting standards of the cylinder lubrication requirements of that part of the Immense Engine.
Furthermore, it was fitted with the appropriate connections to allow for its removal, in time of need when it became necessary to remove the piston gland. During a recent evolution involving the aforementioned parts this new pipe, so carefully made, was crushed asunder and bent beyond recognition, by persons known to us. We await with interest for the guilty to refashion the pipe.
All weather shelter.
Mr Alex (globetrotter ) King and his apprentice have been busy constructing, with the help of others from time to time, the all weather fundamental fabrication facility (F.F.F.). This well planned shelter, clad in Aluminium, or Aloominum, if you are from the other side of the pond, will provide a place where the Messrs King and Simpson can hurtle terms of abuse at each other, without fear of interference. Such was the interest in its construction, that a snippet of the repartee is set out below.
Alex -- “ Hey look there is a leak here.”
Ken – “What do you mean a leak?”
Alex -- “ I mean a location where the water is pissing through.”
Ken – “Where is the water coming frae?”
Alex – “The bloody sky you ejitt.”
Ken -- “That only means that there is a slight imperfection in pulling the roof sections together,
we will soon sort that.”
Alex -- “There is another yin over there.”
Ken -- “Anither whit?”
Alex – “Leak, an there's anither yin again.”
Ken -- “ Whit are daein man?”
Alex -- “I am pointing oot a' the leaks.”
Ken -- “ Look, these leaks only leak when it is rainin, so we will only work oot here when it's no
raining, then there'll be nae leaks.”
No more to be said.
Side Frame oil Lubricants
There has been a disturbing report that some lubricants are leaping out of the bearings and oiling the side frames, in some locomotives. It is believed that this is caused by oil travelling upwards without the aid of wicks or pumps. The authorities of the railway are most concerned that the lubricating oil in store, has been polluted with a Hydro Carbon Yeast, giving rise to an elevation far above its station, of the oil in question. Our resident expert in tribilogical matters has been called in to investigate.
The O. I. O. ( Oil Investigation Officer), in surveillance mode.
Haddock
A harassed waitress was working in a busy fish and potato emporium, in Rothesay on the Isle of Bute, when a customer, to whom the waitress had just served fish and chips, mentioned that the restaurant was awfie busy. The waitress pit doon her tray, and said “listen, busy,!! ye dinnae ken the hauf O' it, I hav'nae seen that sea oot there fur three weeks, and incidently neither's that haddie..
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from The Azores (via Satellite)
Hello everybody, 16th July 2008
The Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
There appears to have been an occurrence where the Ginger Tom that was sending out the reports to me, to enable the monthly letter to be written, has absconded, disappeared, left and gone away. Why this should have happened is not known, but Hamish, currently resident between the milling machine and the paraffin bath at the West End of The Romney Hut, has stepped into the breach. Hamish, who is my cousin twenty two times removed, is a genuine British Railway Rodent, but tends not to be at home all that often but hangs around here or there abouts, hence his name.
Have left Funchal where the pickings were good, slumming it about in the galleys of the various cruise ships that have graced the harbour. In fact Horace was just about a stowaway on one ship that was heading for the Caribbean. If we had allowed him to remain on board, his already rotund profile would have increased so dramatically, that the chances of him being recruited into the City of Aberdeen Fire Brigade would have been pretty slim.
Now in the Azores soaking up the sun and wine in full measure.
Duplicates.
South west trains, along with other Train Operating Companies, are being heavily criticised for their refusal to provide photo copying facilities on their trains. The train companies maintain that it is not in their conditions of franchise to provide such facilities, so that passengers can copy the top secret documents found on their trains. They are are not very accommodating, are they?
Sweeties out of date.
We are informed by the superintendent of the sweetie fountain, that the out of date Polo Mints with the soft centres are all OK, as it is only the hole that is out of date. We are relieved to hear that.
Bob Lochart
Many congratulations on becoming a passed fireman, may you not lose your shovel and tell Mr P Waterman to keep his opinions of Firemen to himself.
Hurdles
Due to the necessary economies being made in local government funding the railway has been asked to provide a hurdle training track, to allow athletes to train for the Bejing Olympics. Nobody appears to be using the facility, it must be wrong colour.
Speed Speed Speed
Alex and his apprentice have been tasked to make the new speed limit signs for erection at the appropriate locations along the railway. Little did we know that the condition of the track is so good that we can now travel at such enormous speeds on the Bo'ness and Kinneil Railway.
Pendolinos eat your heart out.
Union of South Africa.
It was a bit disappointing to hear that the Notable A4 6009, known in the trade as 9, had to be taken off the train at Tyne Yard due to an overheating bearing, on it's journey to the Waverley. Immediately the news was received at the Romney Hut, the entire workforce, Head of Target operational financial failure executive (TOFFEE) and Alex King, swung into action to prepare the Sentinel Ranald, to take the failed A4's place for the return journey to York from our capital city. The reason Ranald was chosen was because it was further on in restoration and it was the only locomotive available with stream lining. It was fully appreciated that the knowledgeable would notice the difference between an A4 and Ranald, but at speed many of the general public would think they had witnessed the famous locomotive. To say that head of TOFFEE was a bit gutted, when the authorities of the big railway would not entertain the idea of Ranald even being allowed anywhere near the the Main Line, was an under statement. How they love their regulations.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from Madeira (via Satellite)
Hello everybody, 5th June 2008
The Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
Taking advantage of the shoulder climate, that's a fancy way of saying best weather between the Falklands and the Equator is during May, half way between their summer and winter or to put it succinctly, Autumn. Why use one word when ten will do? We set sail for home via Ascension Island which is an island of many climates, ranging from dry tropical at sea level to semi tropical, even lush and cool, further up the mountain. The runway at Ascension is not flat, it has a gentle rise then over a summit and the gradient is downwards from then on. Fortunately us Yachtsmen have no use for such facilities, but what is conspicuous by its absence is a decent harbour. After two days of lying at anchor in the Mid Atlantic Swell, it was agreed that Madeira might offer better facilities at Funchal.
A Buddy without a Cuddy
Have been distressed to learn that Lieutenant Lumsden has been without a reliable STEED , in fact he had nae steed at all. This forced the Lieutenant to use public transport from somewhere in the western airts of that village to the west of Stepps, to Bo'ness and Lo an Behold he did not break out in a rash. But by all reports he just about suffered apoplexy, when the Bo'ness bus left the stop at Linlithgow a few moments prior to his wheezing carcass's celebrated arrival at the aforementioned bus stop. His opinion on Scotland's joined up transport would not enhance the quality of this report, but as was pointed out, when he retold the tale, there was a bus shelter at the bus stop in question. Now we all know they are called bus shelters, but being Scottish they do not shelter buses. Their real role in the life of Caledonia is to hold up the adverts and illegible timetables, this of course allows the occasional stranded passenger to hide from the torrential rain, snow, hail and lazy winds. Just think if we did have joined up transport, all these bus shelters would become redundant and it would become necessary to create the BSPS.
Hooks for Airlines
On the fab factory to do list, scribbled on Alex King's locker door is the item “ Hooks for Airlines”.
One could easily be misled into thinking that the hooks are for hanging up compressed air hoses, but the item so listed, is for a much more important task in the fight against Global Warming and high fuel prices. The main idea is that when several aircraft are going in roughly the same direction they all hook up to each other and the one in front tows the rest for the best part of the journey. Hence the need for hooks to be fitted to each end of the Boeing 737/800's and all such larger types including the new Airbus. The hooks designed by Alex's Apprentice Ken, are similar to that fitted to our Mk 1 coaches and of course able to accommodate the buckeye assembly. Freddie Laker's Skytrain lives on.
Birds at Birkhill
You may consider that there is nothing remarkable about Birds at Birkhill, until you see the dolly birds that visit the new platform extension. Little wonder that the Chairman is going on about the great turnouts that are being experienced with Civil's Squad. Repeated requests for the photographs to be available for publishing, have fallen on embarrassed ears.
Nae ticket
What some people will do for attention, in the light of the nationwide publicity at the opening of the Alloa to Stirling railway, there has to be someone to make a scene. The duty scene maker was none other than Mr James Westinghouse Pump Verth, who could not find his ticket. All the same with these geriatrics.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from Port Stanley ( via Satellite) (Apologies from the editor with regard to the delay in publishing!)
Hello everybody, 8th May 2008
The Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
We made our way towards the Falkland islands in bloody awful weather, which of course meant very lumpy seas, i.e. plenty waves. To relieve the tedium and having to hang on to our yachts for grim death, we decided to hang a right ( go to Starboard for the nautical types ) and we went down the sheltered Falkland Sound and subsequently finished up navigating up a long sea loch into what we discovered was, Albemarle Harbour. Quite a big place with the remnants of an old whaling station on the Southern side of the access channel. It was in this harbour with many inlets and bays that we lost Uncle Corrour for a time. After a few days we found Uncle Corrour and his yacht safe and since we were running out of food and did not fancy the seasoned mutton on offer we returned to the Falkland Sound and made a run for Port Stanley. This necessitated us heading North into the Southern Atlantic and then due east round the North of the East Falkland. Very glad to be in harbour, where there is plenty of food lying around for us British Railway Rodents and Horace.
We are a little disturbed by a report from the Ginger Tom in Bo'ness, that on the fabrication factory work to do list on Alex King's Locker door, there is an item “ Anchors for Marquees”. It is therefore obvious, that there is an intention for these Marquees to go to sea. Where bound one must ask ? Or is Alex and his apprentice up to something, yes I know that they are always up to something, but what kind of something? Maybe the new Romney Hut Extension is actually a tented affair that is going to be floated in the dock.
Congratulations are due to all concerned as we hear of the opening of the Alloa to Stirling railway line, a major step in the right direction. It is hoped that the opportunity is not missed to consider Stirling to Dunfermline via Culross, or is that terribly wishful thinking.
Chief Executive of ORR
I noticed in our copy of the times international, available in the CO-OP in Port Stanley every Monday, every second Wednesday and the third Friday in each month, except on the twenty third after Epiphany, that Chris Bolt, the Chief Executive of the ORR is to retire next year. We are at a loss to know why such extended notice is being given to such an earth shattering event, we can only presume that others may have designs on the poor chap's position, thus he will be able to say, that he was going anyway, when he is asked to take a sponsored walk. To suggest that the ORR may have shot their bolt is a bit ungracious.
Intelligent Coo
During an unfortunate failure of the resident Type One 8020 Half way up the gradient between the viaduct and Manuel, just under the M9, while fitting troughs in the fourfoot. When all heads were in the engine compartment and all bums in the air, a Black and White Coo wandered across, from the adjacent field and advised that they should check the position of the maintenance switch. On so doing, it was found to be in the wrong position, on putting in the correct position all started to work normally. The driver thanked the coo most profusely and proceeded with task in hand. After returning to Bo'ness The driver was still amazed at how did a black and white coo know about technical matters of a Type One. The situation bothered him so much that he went to see the farmer. After explaining what had happened, to the farmer, the farmer replied “are you sure it was the Black and White one, to which the driver said “ yes “. “Well you were very lucky indeed, because the Brown and White Coo does not know anything about Type Ones.”
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
Letter from Punta Arenas ( via Satellite)
Hello everybody, 1st April 2008
Head of Toffee
His Toffeeness insists that the targets he sets are Targets not limits, therefore if the amount earned is over the target, that is still a missed target and will be dealt with in the usual manner. Any method will be adopted to secure a conviction, no matter whether the culprit is innocent or guilty. Remember, justice has no place in this system.
SECC
I failed to mention in note of thanks last month, for the effort made by Tom Gray, Hamish Stevenson and Scott Fallon, for their work in ensuring the success of the LOGS stand at the Model Railway Show. If I have missed anyone else who assisted, tough.
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
After having a few nights in Punta Arenas where we filled our bellys, except Horace his belly can never be filled, we prepared for our departure for the Firth of Forth travelling via Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands. Horace was a bit disappointed, when we said to him, that why did he think that he was coming back to Bo'ness with us, after abandoning us in jail at Balboa in the Panama Canal. He was nearly in tears and after exacting a promise by him not to eat too much, we relented and allowed him to rejoin the Yachts. We sailed from Punta Arenas, first travelling west and proceeded south through the Cockburn Channel so that we would sail round Cape Horn, on our way to the Falklands. No point in sailing as far south as this and not actually “Rounding The Horn.”
Very interesting notes from the Ginger Tom who is keeping us informed of what is not happening at Bo'ness. The change of attitude of the developers does not come as a surprise, since there appears to be a serious change in the general economy despite the pontifications of the money men in the global markets. This situation has of course a knock on effect in the dispute with the powers that be, of the planning permission for the new pumping station under the viaduct. All authorities concerned state that they wish the project to proceed, which has the full backing of Alex King, but they cannot agree on the position of the pumping station. Failure to reach agreement will seriously compromise the water supply to the water troughs being fitted in the four foot, from 300yds south of the viaduct to the “ yard working” board, at Manuel.
This feature on a gradient is possible by using the very advanced Static Flood technique and will allow the trains to run to Manuel without the need of providing a water supply in that location . Morayshire is already fitted with a scoop, the other steam locomotives will also be fitted in time for the service extension to Manuel. An additional feature of the Static Flood system is that when steam locomotives are working Civil's trains, where they are stationary for periods, the flow in the troughs can be increased sufficiently to allow the scoop to be lowered and fill the water tanks. Novel eh.
Accidents
On asking one the railway worthies as to why he always downed his pint in one, he replied that is was because of an accident, he spilt some once.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from Punta Arenas ( via Snail Mail)
Hello everybody, 18th March 2008
Alisdhair's Foot From here on in, any reports about his bloody foot will be treated with utter contempt.
ZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
Having left Santiago we headed for Talcahuano, the port for the southern city of Concepcion, where we had a good time with the CRR (Chilean Railway Rodents). Stiill time came to move on towards Bo'ness, so we set sail for Punta Arenas travelling south through the inland sea passage to the Straights of Magellan, thus arriving in very cold and blustery day at Chile's most southerly port and naval base. This place is even colder than Bo'ness in the beginning of February.
Nothing could stop Uncle Corrour going ashore to find something to eat, since he is very good at finding food no matter where in the world we are, I therefore followed him. We were searching at the main freight terminal when we came across a snoring sombrero. We lifted the Sombrero and LO and Behold there is Horace, as rotund as ever, sound asleep. Horace was wakened by Uncle Corrour bellowing in his ear, to which Horace told him to piss off. So much for the raptures of glee when old relatives meet. “ We were told that you went down with the MV Explorer”. “ No “ replied Horace,” it called at Punta Arenas on its way to Antarctica and I went ashore and wined and dined too much, and by the time I had sobered up, the ship had sailed without me,” “ how's things in Bo'ness.?” We briefed him on what we knew and updated him on the problems that Twinkle Toes and Alisdhair were having in trying to control the invasion of asylum seeking ordinary railway rodents (ORRs), in the Romney Hut Bothy. The latest report is that they have despatched seven of the invaders into the next world. This was after Alisdhair ran a mutual improvement class for Twinkle toes, on how set a mouse trap, without losing your fingers. Anybody wishing a hard copy of the course notes should contact Twinkle Toes, his comments during the practical teach in, were very coarse. Showed a distinct lack of breeding. Anyway we went and had plenty to eat with Horace, as he had found out all the good places to dine in Punta Arenas.
ZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA
The 165
Nice to see it on the rails again, after Messrs Burnie and Paterson tried to take it overland.
We will have it fitted with crawler tracks one day.
Congratulations
Many congratulations are due to Head of the Trading Operational Financial Failure Evaluation Executive ( TOFFEE), in his success in ensuring that the correct target at the memorabelia stand at the model railway exhibition was met. It is obvious that Head of Toffee did not learn the lesson from the Bo'ness Toon Cooncil Elephant Catchers, where they foolishly caught the last two elephants, hence they lost their jobs. So congratulations are due to Twinkle Toes for putting his toffeeness out of business.
Well done Peter, for the work and the funds raised.
ZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA
You may have wondered why the Alphabet has appeared backwards every so often, throughout this letter. This is to remind us of Toni Dance, as it his one of his entertainment pieces to recite the alphabet backwards. Nonetheless, Toni is to be congratulated on his block work in the running shed, pity we could not have the whole of the area around the pit done this way. Also to be congratulated is Toni's able assistant Alex Forrest who has just been promoted to Labourer.
Network Rail
It is noted that there appears to be a groundswell of opinion in the corridors of power, that it is pointless fining Network Rail when they fail to deliver on major projects, because of the reasons mentioned in my previous letters. Why is it, that I feel worried about this outbreak of common sense?
Bouncing cats
I note that in the financial press, that due to the poor lending policies of the majority of banks of all types, the effect on the stock market is profound when it all comes home to roost. Although I do take heart that the small intermittent recovery of prices, as they continue their downward trend, is often referred to as Dead Cat Bounce. Three cheers for DEAD CATS BOUNCING.
I am all heart, eh.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from Santiago ( via satellite)
Hello everybody, 12th Feb 2008
Alisdhair's Foot Alisdhair has damaged his right foot, maybe he put it in it.
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
We arrived at the port of Arica in Northern Chile, in fact very near the Peruvian Border. Arica is a small port occupying an indentation on the relatively harbourless part of the coast, surrounded by the Atacama Desert. Its hinterland is similar to that of Caithness, Miles and Miles of bugger all. We went ashore and were promptly chased by an enormous cat, its size was our saving grace we were able to nip through a very small hole in a wooden fence and swim across sewer and hide until the danger was over. Uncle Corrour asked if I had noticed if it was male or female. To which I replied “ what does it matter the sex of your assailant, when he or she is going to kill you; and bye the way you stink”; “I can usually sweet talk any female, “ was Uncle Corrour's reply. When there is nothing left to say, he always says it. Having abandoned our idea to enter Peru and visit lake Titicaca by Rail, Because that bloody uncle cannot stand heights, we set sail for Santiago with its Andean back drop, and managed to find a decent berth where we could syruptishiously proceed ashore without being noticed. As usual Uncle Corrour brought up the point about how we were going to return to Bo'ness, since we certainly would not be welcomed by the Authorities at Panama. I made perfectly clear that we were heading for Terra Del Fuego via Cape Horn, “where is that,” he asked. I took my time to explain how far south it was and added that those that Sail round the Cape Horn are permitted to put one foot on the mess room table, in our case the Bothy table. “But I put all four feet on the bothy table, that is when we are dining there”. “Yes yes I know, but the rule is for people”. “ So as BRRs (British Railway Rodents), we are above that sort of behaviour”.
Alisdhair's Foot He still has the other one so he can hop around.
Kinneil Totems
Now taken root in the Goods Shed, it is now proposed to move Kinneil platform to the goods shed, to graft the signs on.
Alisdhair's Foot Will we ever hear the end of it.
The Great Train Robbery
Many of you will think that the great train robbery of the 1960s was the pinnacle of railway crime where several million pounds were stolen from a train. Our intrepid cohorts did not stop at that they stole the whole train. Now who would have thought that Head of Toffee and Twinkle Toes would be party to such nefarious activities.
In the air.
Heard escaping from the hermetic seals of the Romney Hut Doors, after the retelling of a vintage joke. “ I fell out of my cradle laughing at that one” “ Oh so that's why you are deformed.”
Military outposts
It has been reported in the national press, that Network Rail are to set up military style command posts to run its management of major engineering schemes. Well I suppose Colonel Robertson and Sergeant McLeish, does have a ring to it.
Communications
Many thanks to the Ginger Tom for his notes to us via satellite. But please try to send them on time.
On the M9
Overheard in the running shed, with reference to tailgating on the M9, “They were so close up my arse had we been fitted wi Buckeyes, we'd have been coupled.”
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from Off the coast of Chile ( via satellite)
Hello everybody, 4th January 2008
Happy new year to you all.
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
We sailed towards the Galapagos Islands, these remarkable islands that were pillaged by seamen for years who stopped to catch the giant tortoises, that did thrive on one of the islands, as a means of additional fresh meat to their somewhat limited diet. It does not take much imagination to learn that these creatures are now endangered in fact there is a grave risk that they will become extinct. As we were preparing for landfall there was a major interruption to our voyage of lawful occasion, to-whit it was the Polis again, well the Equadorian polis this time, asking via loud hailer as to who were we and what did we want. We explained that we were British Railway Rodents, desirous of visiting the famous islands. The heid Polisman said that we were mice and they did not want us anywhere near the delicate ecostructure of these oceanic islands. MICE we said, do you think we are ordinary Mice, do you know who you are talking to, rising to our full two and half inches. Yes was the reply, you are escaped mices from Panama, where you told the Senior Policeman there that you had been thrown out off better canals than his. We do not like your attitude senor so turn your yacht round and go the other way you are not welcome in the Galapagos Islands. Why are we not welcome in the Archipelago de Colon? ( to give it its proper name) (thought we would try and impress)? Senor you would breed like rabbits and ruin our delcate environment. Uncle Corrour on his yacht had not been saying very much, because I told him that I would do the negotiations in future, after he had as much as told the senior policeman at Panama, to stick his canal where the monkeys stuck their nuts, bellowed into the radio that that he would soon ruin more than their delicate environment, given half the chance. We turned our yachts with a heavy heart and set sail for Erica in Chile. You can't win em all.
Linguist
A number of years ago a linguist was a passenger on a train from Glasgow to Aberdeen. It was a very wet day, particularly so when the train stopped at Stonehaven, where a couple of Fish Wives joined the linguist in his third class compartment. The ladies talked away to each other and as the train continued on its journey to the Granite City, the Linguist became very interested in what lanuage they were speaking. He barely recognised any words they uttered and eventually he leaned over towards them and asked if they were European, to which one of the ladies replied, “ Na Na loon, its just the dreepies aff ma umbrella”.
Overdraughts
It is understood that when one uses money that does not belong to you, previously known as overdraughts, are now to be known as restuctured aid. That is refreshing news.
Kinneil Totems
Still upside down in the goods shed.
Track Renewal
I see that the Bo'ness and Kinneil Railway are not the only ones that have problems with finishing track renewal on time. I assume that Network Rail's contractors just do not have the photo finish Panache that we have.
Why is the stupidity of fining Network Rail, when it fails in its duties, allowed to continue.? It is the victim paying the fine of the perpetrator.
Mobile Department Store or Memorabilia Supermarket.
This vehicle has now arrived in Bo'ness and is being prepared to receive the teams of shop fitters, who will make it ready for the assult on the retail market. It is believed that Tesco and Lidl are revamping their retail posture to take account of the possible difficult trading environment, once Twinkle Toes has the bit between his teeth.
Communications
Many thanks to the Ginger Tom for his notes to us via satellite.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from Off the coast of Ecuador ( via satellite)
Hello everybody, 16th December 2007
CR 419
This locomotive is now over a hundred years old. Many congratulations to Jim Verth and his assistants for the very successful celebrations, culminating in a tremendous Ceilidh in the Inchyra Grange Hotel.
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
We eventually found our yachts with the aid of our new found Panamanian Rodent friends, which had been moored to the seaward end of the Miraflores Locks. The yachts were closely guarded by the polis and there seemed to be no way we could approach them without being shot and not by a camera. We were at an impasse and tried to find out what had happened to Horace to no avail. We consulted with our new found friends and it was decided that the only way that we were going to be able to board our yachts was to create a diversion. The Panamanian Rodent Mob decided that they would create a disturbance somewhere in Panama City while we would go back to the Gatun Locks, act as agents provocateur, when sufficient mayhem was engendered we would hitch a lift on the next ship going through the canal and leap off as it arrived at the Miraflores. This plan was actioned and all went well until we arrived at the yachts to be welcomed by a single polisman. Scheme scuppered!!! no the gentleman of the constabulary was there to inform us of the sad news that Horace was keeping himself well fed by joining cruise ships as they came through the canal, until he joined the MV Explorer and remained on it for its forthcoming Antarctic Cruise. There has been no word of Horace since the ship sank, and therefore he must be in Davy Jones's Locker. A sad end to a remarkably rotund Railway Rodent. We boarded our yachts and sped out of the Panama Canal under cover of darkness. Once clear of the terratorial waters of Panama we set sail for the Galapagos Islands.
New Management Speak
There is to be a change in the approach to workers, in any responsible organisation, which is based on an experience profile. Work should be an uplifting experience with exploration resulting in discovery, a place where time profiles are efficiently utilised and the growth of character uninhibited. All this will result in an enhanced capability and behavioural change, developing into the provision of a forum for a common language and methodology. This will allow each worker to take on a key role in their enrobement into the Railway business. It is believed that the foregoing is going to become policy in the B & K Railway. Eh Whoopee, shovelers of this world, eat your heart out.
GNER
It is understood that for a few weeks to allow the change over of the franchisee, GNER was operated by the taxpayer. British Railways no deid yet.
Birkhill Totems
Many congratulations are due to Ian we can make it Boettcher on the manufacture and the erection on the totems or running in boards at Birkhill. While there were problems with the correct orientation the end result is very good. The new sign, totem or running in board for Kinneil is causing more of a problem due to it being upside down. But rest assured that the entire resources of the goods shed are being levelled at the problem.
Points of Order
There are those of us that make points on the Railway. It would help greatly if some buggers would stop running through them.
A very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
HELP !
No news from our friend last seen in Balboa. Are they still alive? Have they been caught on the fiddle? Has anybody had any news?
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Letter from the Streets of Balboa
Hello everybody, 11th Nov 2007
CR 419
This old lady is now rapidly approaching her 100th Birthday and the centenary celebrations started with the polishing up the locomotive, together with a bit of artistry and paint, carried out by many, but in particular Lee Sutherland and Chris Lothian. The County Pair attained an all time record in being able to encourage, coax, cajole, threaten and coerce John I'm in management Spacey, to dirty his hands and help to prepare 419 for her big day, Saturday the 13th. Jim Westinghouse Pump Verth who has led the preparations was rightly pleased with the condition of the Locomotive. The warming through fire was lit on Friday night, and preparations continued on Saturday morning. Just after Eight O'clock there was more steam coming out of the cab than anywhere else. A gauge glass cock had spat out its packing. The Big Green Pug, Alias “ Morayshire”, was hurriedly made ready and hauled the 10.00 special to Birkhill, with all the notables on board. What was particularly notable, was that of all those that crowded into first class, none of them had servants in the third class compartments. This does pose the question, were they in fact gentry??? This callous disregard for one's station in society, is really quite reprehensible. Anyway champagne was flowing like the steam out the gauge glass cock, when Morayshire and Caley train arrived at Birkhill. Not to be completely outdone and due to some slick working the Steam in the Boiler of 419 was reduced sufficiently to allow the offending gauge glass cock to be repaired and the Caledonian Lady hauled the 13.50 in Tandem with Morayshire. She continued to operate faultlessly for the rest of the weekend. Well done to Jim and all his assistants.
419 at Birkhill ready to return to Bo'ness (Photo by Jane Gent)
Captions please!
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
Well we dug and dug and scraped and dug until we were out of the cell. On achieving our freedom, Uncle Corrour started to moan that he was cold. The coversation went like this :----
Uncle Corrour -- “ I am cold”
Me “ How can you be cold when we're in Panama, eight degrees north of the equator, fifteen degrees south of the Tropic of Cancer “.
Uncle Corrour -- “How do you know youve got cancer?
Me -- “ I have not got cancer”. I said we were fifteen degrees, South of the TROPIC of Cancer.
Uncle Corrour – “I am still cold”
Me -- “well jump up and down”.
Uncle Corrour -- “ Can't, I have not got the energy, after all that digging”.
Me -- “well sit on your arse then”.
Uncle Corrour -- “ Hey look at all those sausages.”
Me ---” They not sausages they are Enchiladas”.
Uncle Corrour – “What are whatever you called them.”
Me--- “They are a type of Tortilla.”
Uncle Corrour --- “I don't like tortoises.”
Me ---” Oh do what you like “
Uncle Corrour--- “ these tortoise sausages are awfie hard.”
Me ---- “ We have just escaped from jail in Balboa, it is dark, we do not know where the Panama Canal is from here, or where our yachts are and all you can think about is your stomach.”
Uncle Corrour ---- “Well I am hungry.”
At that point a light was switched on by person unknown, and lo and behold we discover that we're in a walk in deep freeze. No wonder Uncle Corrour was feeling cold, so was I a little, but pride forced me not to mention it. So our cell was next to the polis grub bank. We made our final escape from the curtilage of the polis station, post haste out through the deep freeze door.
We lay low until daylight so that we could rekonoyter the area and find the best way to find the Yachts. In our rekonoytering we met fellow Rodents, they were a bit larger than us and seemed to have an attitude that nothing was impossible. We struck up friendship with them but Uncle Corrour, ever suspicious, felt that we were now involved with Panamanian Rodent Mob. Maybe it is because they all carry violin cases, they are probably just a bunch of fiddlers.
The Head of Toffee ( trading operational financial failure evaluation executive) is now carrying out his surveillance tasks, incognito. So beware all who do business on behalf of LOGS, nothing will go unnoticed, so do not be fooled by what appears to be an innocent bystander, enthusiast or one who portrays to be an assessor from Visit Scotland, it could be Head of Toffee in disguise.
They seek him in the Signal Box, or even in the running shed,
maybe in the Romney Hut, when all have gone to bed.
They seek him in the platform where the Station Masters Dwell
But so far they have failed to find the Profits Pimpernell.
Further information has been received by the Ginger Tom at Bo'ness and passed to me, is that the new LOGS Coach, which is to replace the Southern Van as the Memorabelia Emporium, is currently at a location, known only to a chosen few, to have the secret surveillance cameras fitted.
Super Ballast
It has come to light that all other railways throughout the known world, use stones, wee ones, big ones, grey ones, black ones, white ones and even pink ones, as ballast on which to bed their track, or permanent way, to use the railway industry's greatest misnomer. Did you know that the Bo'ness and Kinneil alone buys expensive Memory Ballast. This remarkable material, according to Lawrence Kemp, one of our lead bean counting members of the Civil's Squad, will after being laid on the track bed, will automatically form dips of its own accord where the sleepers go. Pure Deid Brilliant, is it no.????? But there is one thing that must be remembered, if it is laid upside down you will have lumps instead of dips. So always load it into the Dogfish the right way up.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse
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Letter from Bilbao jail
Hello everybody, 3rd Oct 2007
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
As you are all aware that Uncle Corrour and I are still in Bilbao Jail. Uncle Corrour was becoming fidgety and moaning about the food, saying that it was worse than in the Romney Hut. Now there is gratitude for you, comparing the greasy crumbs from under the cooker and the shite from the fridge, with the delights of the Latin Dishes to which we have now become accustomed. In short Uncle Corrour was becoming home sick and so we decided that we could no longer wait for the wheels of the ORR to revolve in our favour and we were going to escape and find our Yachts and leave the Panama Canal syrupstishushly. Uncle Corrour then argued, how are we going to operate the lock gates without the Polis knowing about it?; O why does he always pick me up on the minor points. Yes you are right not switches, but points. I had to placate him by pointing that Canal Rodents can be bought, and we have still to escape from this bloody cell yet. I cannot see why that should gives us any problems when we can go in and out of the Diesel Shed back in Bo'ness at will, the only reason we have stayed so long is because the food was good. Then why are we leaving then? We are leaving because the food is rotten instead of being really rotten, it is all far too fresh. Bugger it, let's start digging.
Carbon Footprint.
Twinkle Toes has been concerned about his contribution to Global Warming, so he decided to quantify the damage he is doing to the planet by making a full size image of his carbon footprint in relief.
Twinkle toes with burnt offering of his Hot Cross Bun.
Birkhill Platform.
Due to the tremendous difficulty in being able to find drivers of trains that will stop precisley at the correct position, when the consist consists of consistently six 65 foot long coaches, on arrival at Birkhill. Loading and unloading prams, go chairs and the disabled in wheelchairs when the train stops short is a real pain. It is equally a pain when the train stops too far up the platform thus disembarking those in the front coach into a building site. Yes I know it is the intention to lengthen the Platform, but it could be lengthened all the way to the Viaduct and these bloody drivers would still not manage to stop in the right place.
Solution, when the improvements to Birkhill are carried out the entire platform will be mounted on bogies and hey presto the train can stop anywhere between Birkhill North and the Viaduct and the Station Master then starts up the platform engine and moves the platform to where it is required. Pure Died Brilliant, so it is, eh.
Cascading Up
There appears to be a trend in the railway industry to store out of use relatively new rolling stock , and bring into service old troublesome vehicles. I believe it is called Cascading Up.
If this trend continues, the mind boggles at the opportunities that lie ahead. We may see the Swindon DMU back on the E & G shuttling between Queen Street and Waverley, or even 80105 belting out to Dumbarton. Salvage for the land yacht yet?????
Arrival of Wee Miss Sutherland
Many congratulations to Fireman and Signalman Lee Sutherland and his lady Kay, on the arrival of their daughter Amy. It is believed that Lee has ordered a shovel for her first birthday.
Pass Wind
During the detailed discussions of the operation of sewrage plants in Bo'ness many years ago, where the emphasis was on using the resultant methane that resulted from the process, for power saving purposes. The leader of the discussion group was asked by an intertested member “ How much methane was gathered in every 24 hours” the answer was about half a cubic foot per capita”. So whether you Pass Wind in Muirhouses or Fart in Grangepans, just think of your contribution to global warming. Please ask yourself, how can I fart to the benefit of the community.
Hammeritious, is that name brackets I see on the class 37.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse, digging out of Bilbao Jail.
Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 1st Sept 2007
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
As you are all aware, that Uncle Corrour and I were ensconced in Bilbao Jail awaiting the pleasure of the Panama Canal Authorities. The British Consular staff in Panama were less than helpful and emphasised their postion as regards us, by declaring that we were not BRR (British Railway Rodents), since British Railways no longer existed as a railway operating organisation, and that we were ORR ( Ordinary Railway Rodents), and the Panamanian authorities could dispose of us any way they so wished. On being made aware of this, I was displeased, Uncle Corrour on the other hand was white with rage, he had gone passed the red bit. Strange when you think, that it was because Uncle Corrour passed a red bit, that we are in this pickle in the first place. The Panama Canal Authorities decided that they would ask for compensation and have found out that this organisation ORR is experienced in extracting large sums from the Uk Taxpayer, using any excuse whatever. “ We try Gringo “ as they slammed the cell door shut. Uncle Corrour has now lost his sense of humour.
Creation of a 90
It is understood that Big Ronnie has decided to join the ranks of the better class of vehicle ownership, by purchasing a Land Rover Defender 90. I feel that while the 90 is commodious, he would have been better with a Defender 110. Never mind I am sure that he will have many hours of pleasure, oiling up the 90 to the required standard, set out by those that know in Solihull.
TOFFEE Alert.
Two problems have arisen for Head Of Toffee ( target operational financial failure evaluation executive). The first being the scare, that thieves in Greater Manchester, who were tunnelling from a railway embankment, were attempting to steal a cash machine from a Block Buster Video store by under mining it, until they were rumbled by cable layers. It is now believed that this tunnel that was found, could be one of many or even a pre-planned decoy. As a result, it is felt that no Cash Machine or Confectionery Fountain any where near a railway is safe. Please do not disturb our resident Deutsche Bahn Ambassador, when he has his ear to the ground around the Romney Hut, these evil tunnellers have no scruples.
The second matter is much more serious and strikes right at the heart of the sweetmeat purveying organisation, even Twinkle Toes cannot be held liable for this situation, that is, until we bend the evidence to frame him. The custodian of the Confectionery Fountain, Head of TOFFEE is to be the subject of a national probe in to the cause of Choclaholics. According to reports in the the leading broad sheets of the national press, which states “ Among chocolate cravers greater activity was seen in the medial orbitofrontal cortex, pregenual cingulated cortex and ventral striatium – regions of the brain known to be involved in pleasure sensation, habit forming behaviours and drug addiction.”
I'm awfie glad they told us.
Network Rail
The threats to impose greater fines in addition to the ones already levied, on Network Rail still poses the question, who is it that is actually being fined? Yes, as has been said several times before, us the tax payer. There again, maybe the tunnellers referred to in the previous news item, were actually Network Rail staff seeking extra cash to pay the fines.
Death of Auntie Euphemia
The Ginger Tom, the erstwhile locum reporter, has intimated that a dead mouse has been found beside the coal road, just under the Kitchen Car of the Rail Tour Set. This Rodent a La Mort, has been identified as Great Aunt Euphemia, she was an upper class mouse who refused to forage for food in the Romney Hut or the Running Shed. She would travel to the Waverley and scamper through Princes Street gardens and raid the kitchens of the Caledonian Hotel. Auntie Euphemia would have nothing to do with anything connected with the North British since she was chased out of Methil Docks before the First World War, so she always ignored the North British Hotel, now called the Balmoral or some such other naff name. She always said that she would not been seen dead on the North British. Well we do not always have the privilege of choosing where we are found dead, do we.
Flushing out
The human organic waste logistics integration technician, known to all his friends as HOWLIT, was working under the urinal of the Running Shed Bothy, having shut the water supply valve to the cistern. When in walks the Lieutenant Lumsden thus activating the person approaching urinal water saving device. The urinal therefore flushed, which would have not caused a problem, had it not been that the waste pipes were disconnected. At least we now know that the water supply valve to the cistern leaks, so we either repair it or keep the Lieutenant out of the Bothy.
Questions
Is there any truth that the Class 37 which is being worked on in the Diesel Lodge, is to be named Hammeritius ???? Answers to the guest book.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse,
In Bilbao Jail.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 3rd August 2007
There is a rumour doing the rounds, that Lee I am growing a beard Sutherland, has enrolled for a special course, on how to stand nearer his razor. The reason given is that he did not like the sobriquet of The Furry Stallion.
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
To increase the capacity of the Panama Canal, the Canal Authorities have embarked on a courageous scheme to build new the locks at the Gatun & Miraflores, resulting in the level of the summit of the canal being raised. The Pedro Miguel locks thus becoming redundant. The surface area of the Gatun Lake, will increase and as quick as a flash, when the subject of flooding up new lochs was mentioned, Uncle Corrour immediately put forward the Civils of the Bo'ness and Kinneil as the best team in the world for creating new lochs. He went on to emphasise how single handedly they had created a new loch North of Birkhill Bridge and just as quick, removed it. The Panama Canal Authorities were impressed, but not sufficiently to place a contract with the 571/2 squad. The civil's 571/2 squad would have had to refuse the offer of work anyway, as they have sufficient work on their hands for the moment. Nonetheless, we continued our journey through the canal to the Miraflores Locks, me in command of my yacht and Uncle Corrour with his yacht. Well thats when things started to happen, I was trying tell Uncle Corrour not to go into the right hand lock because there was a red light on the entrance channel, but he said that did not matter and did a SPAD and became jammed in the closing gates. I, because of my concern about Uncle Corrour, did not notice that my yacht had gone broadside on to the lock gate rams and promptly became jammed under them. Well now one has often heard of over reaction, but all the canal staff seemed to have lost their sense of humour, all at once. It took about three days, to sort what was in effect a total stoppage in the canal and by the time it was all sorted out, the Dow Jones had fallen one thousand points, the Nikkei was in freefall, and our Gordon was going to hold another Cobra Meeting. They must like that beer, mind you it has always tated like knats piss to me. Nearly forgot to mention, Uncle Corrour and I are being looked after in the Jail in Bilbao.
Failure of a charabanc
It has been reported by the Ginger Tom that there has been much renting of raiment, with many, well a few, or maybe just one, dressed in sackcloth and ashes, in the running shed. Quite handy finding some place to put the ashes out of the pit. All this grief is because the Edinburgh Charabanc has failed its MOT and is not likely ever to pass again. There appears to be a move afoot, that Big Ronnie is going to be tutored by Bill Warren on how to drive an artic. The subsequent purchase of the artic will mean that Ronnie can carry around a Black 5 and a 9F at the same time, in more commodious conditions than were available in his old van.
Apology
In my last letter I referred to Private Preen, when it should have been Grenadier Preen. I trust the Grenadier Preen has not taken any offence or gate, over the clerical slip. I therefore give my sincere apology, for the error.
In letters of the Arc, for ever.
A note of posterity has been noted on the new Hand Rails fitted to UB 3, Nether Kinneil Bridge,
where the name Alex King has been bead welded on to one of the uprights. There for many generations to see. It was planned to put “ lets have a committee meeting” between Alex and King, but the uprights were not long enough.
Guard's shirt tails.
In future all guards must keep control of their shirt tails. Alisdhair Silcock was told off by Lieutenant Lumsden, to tuck his shirt tail in, as he tried to protest about the operations department removing his beloved power base, Brake Van 9237.
Joined up Railway
Many congratulations to all involved with the major relay, earthworks and redundant badger setts, to the South of Birkhill. It is certainly an impressive achievement and due in no small way, to the effective work put in by many. Unfortunately for some, the get up and go had got up and went.
Donald with get up and go gone!.
Retribution.
A buzzard had the temerity to leave a message on 419 as it climbed the hill, whereupon it was reported that Driver Mr Jim Westinghouse Pump Verth said “ I'll have him on the way down. As good as his word, the Buzzard and 419 collided on the way down the hill. This bird is now easily identifyable, because it has the imprint of a Caledonian lamp bracket on its arse.
Congratulations
Many congratulations to Matt Lambert who has now passed out as a guard. Your services are sorely needed.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse, In Bilbao jail.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 1st July 2007
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
We have been visiting a few islands in the Carribean and having been to St Thomas and St Lucia we are all well fed, having dined on the finest crumbs from the glorious tables of the idle rich. After our visit to the islands it was decided to proceed towards the Panama Canal. The first problem was to find a Panama Hat for old Uncle Corrour. He simply refuses to be seen dead in the canal not properly attired. I tried to explain to uncle Corrour that I had every intention of being seen in the canal alive, with or without a bloody Panama Hat, further more they probably have not heard of Panama Hats in Panama. We were instructed to bring sufficient food for the mules which tow the vessels from lock to lock in the canal. As you are all well aware the last thing that B.R. Rodents like doing is to give away food, especially Horace. Horace's appetite just about compromised our trans Atlantic crossing when we had to call at the Azores to top up with grub. On arrival at the canal there was embarrassment all round, when we found out that the Mules were rail mounted Automatic Tensioning Winches. When it was our turn to pass our ropes to pick up the Mule's wire the driver could not find his heys for the Mule. On that very subject, the last communication I had from the thick Ginger Tom at Bo'ness, was that the entire railway operations of Central Scotland were put in jeopardy by a Mr Boettcher, who lost the keys for the padlock on the gate at Manuel. Not wanting to be outdone Donald lost the Manuel point padlock key. Anything you can do, I can do better. What is more notable is that the Thane of Morayshire ( Ol' Da) had nothing to do with it. It appears that losing keys is very contagious, like bird flew ( Flue) or Flu, it can cross oceans. I digress.
The Mule driver found his keys, we hauled the wire on board our yacht, the wire was tensioned rapidly and whipped Uncle Corrour's Panama Hat into the Lock. The last we saw of the hat was disappearing down the sluice of the Gatun lock, into the Carribean. Those of you who say that we will never hear the end of it are perfectly correct, we hav'n't. More about the canal transit in my next letter.
Deutsche Bahn
The reason why some members of the society, who also earn their living with a well known freight company, have been practising gander pacing up and down the platform, has now become a little clearer. I have it on good authority, that Deutsche Bahn were impressed by the way that Head of Toffee carried out his duties. His pursuance of the culprits that fail to make targets is now legendary, and the German rail operator wants more of his calibre. It is also felt that this move will also give Private Preen alias Peter Dryden, a senior position in the new company.
Billy stops short
While bringing the Thomas train into Bo'ness, Billy Willison, cautious as ever, stopped a little bit short, thus causing absolute mayhem on the platform. Those waiting at board C climbed on to coach D and those for B into C. The situation gave rise the following doggerel.
Those for D went into E
and those for C went into D.
Those for B went into C
and those for A went into B.
Those for F hung around to be told
and poor old A was left out in the cold.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse, In the Panama Canal.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 2nd June 2007
Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club.
This letter has been a bit delayed due to the surface postal service from Barbados. Since there has been a requirement for everyone, yes everyone, to be fully aware of one's own carbon footprint, airmail was out of the question. Furthermore, to sail several thousand miles across the the Atlantic Ocean, experiencing a force four, for two weeks and then ecourage Airlines to imprint their carbon bootmark on the world, would have been hypocrisy at it's worst. The further cause of delay, was because I had to find a capable correspondent to keep me informed while I was away and since all the other B.R. Rodents are with me in our yacht, the ginger tom cat agreed to do it. Musn't let old prejudices stand in the way of good holiday. Mind you that Ginger Tom has no concept of time and geography. When I was trying to explain to him that we were going to sail out through turd invested waters of the Firth of Sewerage, and sail across the world he thought we would do it and be back in time for tea. In my efforts to explain to this thick feline, I pointed out that Elgin for example, was over one hundred and fifty miles away. He appeared to accept that and asked with enquiring enthusiasm of somebody who was learning fast, “Is Elgin in Morayshire?” delightedly I answered yes, well then said the cat, “ It is just up at the far end of the running shed is'nt it” May the good lord give me strength.
Bathing
It was further noted that Head of Toffee's ( Trading Operational Financial Failure Evaluation Executive), daily swim in the esturial waters at 6 am has now restarted, and the report that it was thought that Exxon Valdez had sunk off Bo'ness, is pure cheap gossip.
Car Parks
In has come to my attention that Alex Lets have a committee meeting King is or has, changed his fist name from Alexander to Par. This was noticed about a three weeks ago when Alex, I mean Par, was noticed striking a deal with Tarmacadam operatives working under the auspices of another concern, the result being a number of resident holes in the coal road being filled with the aforementioned tarmacadam. Very well done I thought, but few are aware that Par has been making deals nation wide and the puckle that I witnessed in the coal road is purely all part of the scheme to throw me off the scent of what is really happening. Par now has sufficient tarmacadam, all stowed in a fleet of 20 ton tippers, to throw down a car park anywhere it is required at the drop of a hat, furthermore it comes complete with all the parking bays marked, including route direction arrows. So all Loco Crews, Station Staff and Guards be warned, do not drop your hats or you will have a fully staffed and lined car park there in two seconds. God bless Alex with a nose for a deal.
Development
A note from the Glagow Herald in 1857-- Competing railway lines between towns eventuate in no advantage to the towns, only disadvantages. Then why are they encouraged by parliament? The authors and promoters of these lines are either lawyers, engineers, or contractors for their own benefit, or one or all combined with landowners, to fill their own pockets.--- The boot may be on the other foot, but it appears that nothing much else has changed.
Overheard in the Mk 3 sleeper at some ungodly hour ---a fireman, a fireman, my railway for a fireman, ---- don't worry it was only the Chairman letting everone know that he was short staffed. Apologies to William Shakespeare, no he was not the fireman that did not turn up.
Running shed
One must take note of the revamped west end door on the south road of the running shed, the attempt to form a lean too facility at this location has its merits, but a little longer in the planning would have brought out some more fruitful results. Olda and Lieutenant Lumsden have gone firm in what the concrete next to the south road is to be used for, and I believe their attitude is hardening. Big doors are not meant to be shunted.
Education
A Little snippit of education policy was revealed by our resident tower of knowledge, Mr Robert Wright, when he pointed out to an exhausted train cleaning team, at the end of busy Thomas day, that the demarcation in education subjects is as follows. “ if it wriggles it is Biology, if it stinks it is Chemistry, if it doesn't work it is Physics.” Nice to have these matters explained, isn't it.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse, In the Carribean.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 7th May 2007
Railway Rodents Sailing Club.
Since the removal of the Loch at Birkhill, removed our “Scotland at Sport” recreation facility, we have decided It is time to go BIG. This has resulted in us seeking authority to form a focus group, complete with a field team and several working parties that do not do very much, together with a plenum chamber. Now I do hope you have followed these measures closley and fully understand their implications, because if you do, you are bullshitting. On going BIG carries a number of changes including image, thus we are now the Royal Birkhill Ocean Racing Club and we have moved our allegiance to the Firth of Forth. We shipped our new craft on the sole plate of the Turbots and put the masts on the Salmon, although it all sounds a bit fishy, we managed to launch our yachts at Bo'ness. It was at that juncture that things started to go down hill, no I do not mean down hill, the firth is flatish, I mean that there were a lot of other things floating in the water. Shite to be precise and it was obvious that it all came from Edinburgh, as they all had had their tea, and some had white tufts of hair and a blue dust coat, all very twee. So much for our initial shake down regatta to Limekilns, but it had to be cancelled for obvious reasons.
It was further noted that Head of Toffee's ( Trading Operational Financial Failure Evaluation Executive), daily swim in the estuarial waters at 6 am has also been a casualty of the uncontrolled sewage discharge from our illustrious Capital City. He will just have to spend the time saved, cleaning out the dirty cabs of EWS class 66s; as reported in the national press.
There appears to have been a contretemps over a particular application of Hammerite paint on to a Locomotive under restoration, in the Diesel Lodge. While there was a particular level of suck, squeeze, bang and just about blows, they all had nothing to do with a Diesel Engine carrying out its lawful task. It appears that there has been an application of the offending material to the lower parts of the Class 37; which did not go down too well with others working on the Locomotive. A negative spin off has been that when the Hammerite representative arrived on site to sell his wares, he was given two orders, get out and stay out. It is believed that David, our resident Diplomatic Digger Driver, may have an opinion on the occurrence, as of course have others. The recommendation is, do not go near the Diesel Lodge with a tin of Hammerite.
Our white line Secretary General has been released with a tin of white line waterproof paint and was last seen with a fair wind for the viaduct, having issued the guard of the civil's train with a parking ticket for interrupting his work, by stopping the train in the platform at Birkhill and spoiling his white line at the platform edge. The self same Secretary General was last reported painting check rail ends, somewhere South of Beattock, on the West Coast main line.
I note in the Railway Press that Network Rail has been fined for the negligence of Railtrack with reference to the Ladbroke Grove Accident. This is Taxpayers prosecuting and fining themselves for something perpetrated by a private company. You could not make it up, could you?
Mr Ian Boettcher is to be congratulated, by volunteering to use the trap in the Running Shed Bothy that does not have a working light. Such sacrifice to recognise the effects of global warming, is an example to us all.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse.
Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 9th April 2007
It is with great credit that Big Ronnie puts so much effort into the condition of the Locomotives he is involved with, it is therefore a great pity he does not focus a little on the condition of his charabang ( van configuration ), that he uses to commute on the M9 between Bo'ness and Edinburgh. Ronnie was extolling the virtues of this remarkable vehicle, that never lets him down and is festooned with M.O.T.s, despite the fact that he needs to top up the coolant level to compensate for a product escape at the water pump, to the big heilander. To further display the vehicles reliability, Ronnie leapt into the driving seat and said his farewells, only to discover that the bloody thing would not start. It was therefore found necessary for Old Da and the Heilander to push the vehicle a short distance, to try a free the starter motor, on the assumption of course, that that was what was wrong. This van of Ronnie's is some weight, I would not be surprised if there is a enough bits in the back of it to build a Black Five. I know that is a bit of an exaggeration, if he had the boiler in the back of the van he would not be able to shut the doors. Ok we'll settle for the running gear. Big Ronnie went off to the Running Shed to fetch a rope, so that the charabang could be towed, and Old Da technically wellied the starter motor. Lo and behold the vehicle burst into life and Ronnie was underway. It reminds me of a conversation that I overheard at the Highland Show; ( in it's travelling days), which was being held in Ayr that year, where an American Rancher was trying to impress a crofter from Caithness, about how large his farm was back in Wyoming. The American continued, by saying, “ that it took him all day to drive round his spread”; to which the crofter replied, “ Och man, I used to have a tractor like that too”.
It is understood that Alex whaur's this train goin Forrest the duly elected shop steward for the civils', is having a difficult time with the management's attitude to the civils' pay claim. Alex is holding out for 51/2 % increase now, all up front and totally rejects the management's offer of the same percentage rise over three panels. Donald where's the point levers McLeish what does it matter we don't get paid anyway. Ah! but thats the whole point if you cannot argue about nothing, how are you going to argue about something. The Secretary General is going to issue a paper on the matter.
Mark over middle age Mashmole. There was a milestone anniversary, that just about went unnoticed amongst the souls that labour in the Romney Hut and/or the Running Shed.
A wee bird told me that Mr Ashmole is not much younger than 80105 in fact only two years younger, although he is a wee bit more younger than his Austerities. Happy birthday Mark. It is at this juncture that I register a complaint. Normally there are enough crumbs from the birthday cakes to keep Horace and I going for a week. On this occasion there was buggerall left, the next time you are having a fiftieth birthday, bake a bigger cake.
Due to our new found facilities in the way of a Loch at the North End of Birkhill, has allowed us to found a Railway Rodents Sailing Club. One must admit that RRSC has a nice ring to it, we did think of prefixing Royal, but it was felt that that would be a bit presumptive. Anyway a boat building programme was put in place, along with running classes to teach other mice to sail, when lo and behold, no bloody loch.
Birkhill loch before.......
and after !
Alex Forrest, David Heath, Donald McLeish and the rest of the civil's gang are behind this removal of our recreational facility. They had better not try to deny it, because we all saw Alex Forrest digging drains here, there and everywhere. While everybody is looking up at the Chairman, swinging from trees in accordance with the vegitation clearance programme, Alex nips in a digs a few holes under the track and whoops the loch is down into the Forth.
I have to announce that not many people and even fewer mices, know that Lieutenant Lumsden runs an orphanage for homeless Whitworth Taps. It is now believed that special funding through the United Nations Disadvantaged Tap Programme, will become available provided it can be established that no positive discrimination against BSF or Metric taps is practised. BSP or BA taps are not passed upon. The funding will be supported through, The Hole Reamer Expanding Angular Development Spiral, which is overseeing the tap crises and is focussing its efforts internationally, on a do or die policy.
It is not often that we have the priveledge of exciting occurrences in the Romney Hut, but the other day a refugee from the Diesel Lodge did arrive spitting tacks, which Alex King had to sweep up. This refugee continued to throw the toys out of his pram, to the amusement of the limited audience available at the time. One asks if it would be possible for the Diesel Lodge to send the appropriate notice of the intending performance, so that a decent sized audience can be assembled.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 8th March 2007
I must apologise for the delay in writing this letter. Mark Austerity Ashmole has been rattling my cage, causing a recurrence of my deafness.
The practice of urinating on the ballast by the Civil's Squad or the 57 team, is to cease immediately. The drains cannot cope.
Twinkle Toes is to be gongratulated for his unstinting efforts at the Model Railway Exhibition in Glasgow last month. The efforts of David, Hamish and Scott were all greatly appreciated. But before Gongs are issued, an improvement in profitability must be achieved in line with Head of Toffee's requirements, which intends to stick to.
The civils squad has been very active over and above relieving themselves on the track. They organised a vegitation clearance day, and behind D8020 there commenced a search for threatning trees, recalcitrant rhodedenrons, bolshi brambles and resting rubbish. I suppose that makes D8020 a search engine. We also had a bloody great fire at the old loop where the offending items were quickly despatched. Mind you Uncle Corrour was a bit pissed off that he was not invited.
The news that there was to be an employees wage review, as per the minutes of council, was received with great glee, by the entire Civil's Group. It was felt that to present their case in a proper professional and bolshi manner, they would need to elect a shop steward. The election was held and Alex whaur's this train goin Forrest is now the shop steward and offishull spokesman for the Civil's Group. The group wish Alex all the best in his new representative endeavours, and hope he will extract the highest percentage increase possible. He wishes that any instrangience by the management will be treated with indifference.
Mark Austerity Mashmole is going ballistic, somebody is burning all the hardwood bits and pieces to either light the fire or keep it going, leaving nothing for work on the workshop machines. In future wood you not use wood, otherwise the wood that you wood use will not be available for what you wood use it. I hope that is clear to everyone.
Uncle Corrour, Horace and I, decided to take advantage of the new inland sea to the North of Birkhill. Having found a Banana Skin that nobody wanted, we turned it into a boat and set sail for distant Birkhill platform. We were using small lollipops as paddles, but they melted after a short distance, but ever resourceful Uncle Corrour picked up a slender stick and a beech leaf and promptly raised a mast complete with sail, and thus we headed south. While all this was going on Horace, ever hungry, started to eat bits of Banana that still remained, but became too enthusiastic and ate a hole in the bottom of the boat. The vessel foundered on the shore just under the bridge and we had to walk the rest. We are now in the process of building programme of four new ships and then we will launch the Birkihill Navy. In the Birkhill Navy we never go to sea once round the lever frame and back in time for tea.
I am confident that all who need to know that Lieutenant Lumsden has a new steed, a TD 5 ˝ no less. But there are those that do not know that it has electric windows, which means it is not a real Rover Van. Maybe that is what is know as a Hyndland tractor.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse.
-----------News Flash-------------Just delivered to the editor by Horace---This was from a time long before Horace was born or so he tells me!
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everybody, 2 Feb 2007
Horace and I decided do go to Edinburgh for a look at the new platform layout at the Waverley.
We took a train from Linlithgow, and changed on to the empty coaching stock for the night sleepers at Haymarket, to check out reports that there was good grub to be had in the stewards pantry. This would also give us the honour of the first mice to use the new platforms on the south of the main station. Whooppee as we approached the platforms the rear bogie of the coach we were on took a different line to that of the front bogie, well we never thought that bringing in trains sideways was in the thinking, eh! how novel. Then all came to a sudden halt. Eventually Horace and I learned that it was not the intentions of those in control, to bring trains in to the station in the manner our train arrived. Very quickly there was many people with orange jackets on the track and platform, in fact everywhere you looked there was a soutrce of food with all these Orange jacketed people eating everything from rolls to chewing gum. The following day even as we were still feasting of the grub left behind there was even more people with Orange Jackets. In fact there was a complete wall of people wearing Orange Jackets, I was not aware that they had Orange walks in Waverley Station, but when you see Orange walks on television there are bands and banners, this walk in Waverley was a bit subdued, I wonder why?
It has been reported, that Twinkle Toes has been dancing around the firebox of 80105. The reason for this strange cavorting was the removal of the firebars in the grate to allow the dismantling of the ashpan, which is being renewed. Well I am not going to tell stories out of school. but I will. He, who shall remain nameless, broke some of the firebars as he wellied them off the rocker bars. He will just have to have the sales targets for memorabilia at the Scottish Railway Exhibition, adjusted to cover the cost of new firebars. The usual financial control authority will take this for action. I understand the fabrication and fitting of the new ashpan is going well, despite the pit being littered with broken firebars.
The diversity of activity carried out by our resident EWS Ambassador never fails to amaze. He was doing his shunter for a Fork Lift Truck, driven by Alex lets have a committee meeting King, when the aforementioned truck become stuck in the sand in the coal road. Whose fault it was has not yet been established as both driver and shunter deny all responsibility and say it was the civils fault for not putting up notices about the quicksand. Mr Simpson's comments, on hearing of the incident, would not usefully add to this report.
Mr Gerry let's give it another two coats Begg, had a fight with recalcitrant tin of paint and came off second best, hence the additional hue to the floor in way of the band saw. Do not ask about the biler suit he was wearing at the time, as his answer could possibly offend.
Alister McPhee has been caught red handed applying paint inside out by the coating police, as he was painting the new bothy coach in the Romney Hut. He admitted the offence and said he would do it again when they were not looking. This free thinking attitude must be snuffed out before it gets out of hand.
I notice that in the Glasgow Herald there was a comment from a newspaper in New York, about a Mr Rod Stewart singing folk songs about getting Grandmothers off a Bus. The journal thought that these nonsensical utterances, were maybe something to do with Mr Stewart's state of sobriety. Do they have no culture over there?
Congratualtions to Chris Lothian on passing out as a Guard, Another string to his Bow, of Fireman and Signalman.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 3rd Jan 2007
A happy New Year to you all.
There has been a level of consternation at the repairs necessary to mend the hole in the Hamilton's Cottage, caused when the Chairman's spectacles went through the roof. It is believed that the incident was caused by the chairman becoming a trifle overheated and laid the law down on his spectacles, which resulted in them being propelled skywards. The condition of the spectacle are not passed upon.
Many thanks must go to Chris Lothian for the effort and organisation put in to make a success of the Christmas party.
Driver Jim Verth, Fireman Chris Lothian, Alisdhair, Gordon, Tom and Evelyn
The highlight for us mice was the Christmas cracker train with 80105 in the capable hands of Mr Jim Verth, Mr J Spacey and Mr A MacLean. Plenty Grub about the footplate, but not much in the coaches though. Mind you that was more than made up for by the left overs in the cafeteria. Twinkle Toes danced the light fandango, as did Shed Master Harper. I do believe that the party continuation team did continue until the wee sma' hoors in another place. Horace, Uncle Corrour and I were far too tired to check it out, so the occurrence is unreported. Those seeking details could of course contact the Hieronymous Z Goatstrangler.
The light fandango in progress with twinkle toes in his element! ( Photo by Liz Ashmole)
Santa Trains just about stopped
Young Stuart Sellar drove the line checking Locomotive up the line prior to the first Santa Train of the season, lo and behold a tree was found blocking the line. Due to the prompt action of both Stuart and Chris Lothian the line was cleared and the first Santa Train ran just a teenie weenie bit late.
Santa Train Stopped
Santa instituted an immediate enquiry as to why the `1330 service to the North Pole was running late, on the 3rd of December. The Original report was that Mark Ashmole, the Fireman, had lost the hied. In fact, Mark lost his Santa's helpers hat on the way up to Birkhill and the train was stopped on the way back, to recover it, much to the amusement of all onboard. Santa was not best pleased and suggested that he tie it on in future.
Man and dugs on the line
Stuart Sellar also had to clear the line of a man with a shot gun and twa dugs, hunting parties know no bounds.
Technical activity
Activity round the back of the Romney Hut has taken on another frenzy of action packed technical accomplishment, by Alex lets have a committee meeting King and his cohort, sorry apprentice, Ken RRPW Simpson. There was a need to provide a less soggy surface for the Fork lift truck to operate while off the concrete, and Mr Simpson took the matter in hand. Mr Simpson was assisted by his journeyman Mr King. The ensuing description of the task in hand, is better presented in verbatim, to do justice to the smooth seamless organisation that swung into action to achieve the honourable goals set by the participants themselves. It is believed that there is little appreciation in the broader holistic aspects of the society, about the sheer brilliance of the aforementioned team.
Ken “ right com'oan noo get that hard core in that truck”
Alex “ whit truck”?
Ken “that yin yer leanin against”.
Alex “Whit are we gon' tae use wi' i't”?.
Ken ”shovels whit else”.
Alex “ naw ya eejit whit are ye gaun to pull the truck wi'”?.
Ken “ the fork lift truck”
Alex “that 'll no dae it”
Ken “Aye, it wull”
Alex “How”
Ken “yaise the pin at the back O' it”
Alex “ right then will I drive ?”
Ken “ye might as well, since yur useless at anythin else”
Alex “ I see yur plan, when it disnae work ye' ll blame me, ye auld scunner”
Ken “ why is it that when I teach ye all I know ye still know nothin.?”
Alex “ Quiet, ye non technical terrorist”.
I stopped taking notes when the situation became so heated, that we could have raised steam in Morayshire.
As usual, the job was completed to everyone's satisfaction.
Signal Box Keys
It was observed that a signalman reported for duty, but discovered that he had forgotten his keys and was standing beside the signal box thinking what he would do. I believe few of us do not know, that that is the origins of the expression, “ thinking outside the box”.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 1st Dec 2006
I notice that the exhibition industry is following a new fashion described in the national press as a display of hidden artefacts, referred to as the Hidden Gallery. Now there is an idea, a building or a shed or a gallery, in which the visitor can see nothing. It appears that where this has been tried, there has been no shortage of punters. I wonder if we could market ourselves as the Hidden Railway, come and see no trains.
There was immense consternation when the refuse disposal organisation of the railway was carrying out its allotted task, under the personal supervision of Alex lets have a committee meeting King, when a conflat in Romney Hut No. two siding started to smoulder. Head of Toffee, ever versatile, immediately swung into action and took charge of the situation, and ably assisted by Mr Ian we can make it Boettcher, Twinkle Toes, and of course Mr King. The minor conflagration was brought under immediate control. While this incident was innocent enough, it was discovered, shortly afterwards, that the sleeper gauge sticks were missing. Now this situation would not have warranted a mention, except that the entire civils group, two Road Rail Machines and a Bulldozer, together with Jim Watson, were poised to start laying the new concrete sleepers, to the south of the High Bridge. To say that the Chairman was agitated over the situation is maybe an understatement, he was damned near incandescent, but the Big Heilander came to the rescue by making new ones in double quick time, and properly morticed with matching grain. In claiming the glory for the rapid manufacture of the new gauge sticks, the Heilander has bought Ian Boettcher’s silence. Nonetheless, the question still remains as regards the original fire, what did Mr King use for kindling????
Uncle Corrour, Emily, Willberforce, Horace and I were having a get together in the fan duct, above the east bogie of the Mk three sleeper one Sunday Lunchtime. While we were comfartable enough, there was a background noise of someone snoring, but we did not mind we had fed well in the Romney Hut and looking forward to a pleasant afternoon snooze. Then there was the grumbling of a Diesel Shunter, wrong, two Diesel Shunters. They came closer and closer to the sleeper coach coupled up and moved it. We had to bail out, but there was still somebody snoring in the sleeper, I wonder who? It would not be a Director of the Railway would it???
I notice that South West Trains are considering removing some of the toilets out of their EMUs, to make more room for standing passengers, pack em in I say, possibly crosslegged. I wonder if they would consider leaving the hole in the floor when they remove the toilets, to allow those caught short to urinate through the hole on to the traction motor. Imagine the scene if the urinator completes the circuit and duly lights up like a Christmas tree. Oh well, a bit of festive embellishment would probably go down well with S. W. Trains punters.
We must all welcome the news of Mr James Westinghouse Pump Verth’s elevation to the Council, many congratulations. I am sure he will bring a level of sound management to the Society.
Jim wiping away a tear!
Do you remember the class fourteen that used to be located at Bo’ness until it was recently disposed of, then you may have noticed that there is an article on the class in the December 06 issue of Railway Magazine. Now I have always understood that every word printed in that magazine is a glittering gem of accurate truth. On page 42; Class 14 Technical details; states that the wheel diameter of a class 14 was, 34ft 7in (10.54m). So maybe it was not a genuine class 14 that we possessed after all.??
Recently I overheard a senior member of the railway staff being very definitely chastised, when he referred to the lumps of shaped wood that are placed under the wheels of a vehicle to stop it rolling away down a gradient as chocks. “ These are called Scotches” said the chastiser, “chocks are for bloody aeroplanes”. Oh well what do they call them in England Yorkies?? and maybe Taffies in Wales. In traditional fashion, do the railways in France go back their country's old name of Gaul and call their scotches Gauloshes ????.
Oh dear what a calamity David Drury is locked in the lavatory, no he was not locked in the lavatory. He was locked in the station by the cunning hand of our resident travelling person, Mr Hugh Gilmour. Mr Gilmour of course tried to deny a hand in the affair, but the ever vigilant mouse saw the whole situation unfold. What is more, David, on being released from captivity, discovered that he had had his keys on him all the time. A storm in a teacup eh.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everbody, (pickled again! )Ed 4th Nov 2006
It may be that mice are considered simpletons in todays railway world, but the recent opinions in the national press about the finances of GNER, the Great North Eastern Railway, do take some believing. According to the reports it appears that the company’s business plan, was, or maybe still is, that the money that they would receive by making claims against Network Rail for the unavailability of track access or other facilities, would balance the books with a little left over. Due to the dowright cussedness of Network Rail who had the cheek to get their act together, Lo and Behold, the track and facilities appear to have been available much more than expected. Now I had always thought that claims by TOCs against Network Rail, was to provide a redress for loss of profits, due to components of the infrastructure not being available. It appears that the practice of claiming Network Rail, was considered to be source of revenue in its own right. Surley this cannot be correct, or is the financial world warning everyone the need for a Grim Negative Equity Reminder.
The following reference and quotation is from an excellent book, The Wemyss Private Railway by Mr A.W. Brotchie published by The Oakwood Press and reproduced here by the kind permission of the author
In 1834 David Landale, Mining Engineer to Wemyss Collieries, furnished a report which estimated the volume of workable coal in the Fife Estate areas to be 464,707,920 Tons. A fair amount in anybody’s language.
He goes on to say later in his report
N.B. Start of Quotation.
When a coal mine is thoroughly ventilated, and all the mining operations are under control of an oversman, who has a system laid down for his guidance, the workmen having one common interest, being all paid by the ton, all seem happy and comfortable. You see the engines labouring away with their loads, the horses coming briskly up to the crossings, and their drivers pushing the crossing - men for their turns. You also hear the constant tinkle of the signal bell, the thundering of the trains on the inclined plane, the hissing of spare steam, and the occasional “bear a hand” of the workmen, encouraging one another to have a good days work as to quantity. All this forms really a cheerful and animated scene, and when the men and boys engaged in the transfer of coal assemble for half an hour to dinner, the laugh and the joke go round as merrily as on a harvest field.
In conclusion, I would beg leave to remark, that it has been stated, from quarters entitled to considerable attention, that coal-mines of the kingdom are rapidly wearing out. I believe that a more accurate observation and enquiry will shew, that the quantity of coal still to be wrought, is next to inexhaustable. Certain I am, that, so far as the Wemyss estate is concerned, no evil of this kind may be dreaded. The coal here was commenced with nearly as early as that at Dunfermline, which is believe to have been the first in Scotland; and, as yet, a mere fraction of what the estate contains (18 workable seams), has been wasted, and few of those below sea- level.
Before that quantity of coal is used, improved machinery will, no doubt, place as much more within our reach; and after that, if the march of intellect proceeds as rapidly as it has done for the last century, method will be devised for using the inflammable gases water and air without the aid of such clumsy material as pit coal. The great consumer of caloric, the steam-engine, will possibly be laid aside for some ethereal perpetuum mobile, which will require nothing but the word of command to make it perform the service required.
N.B. End of Quotation
Well it did not move, maybe it is not ethereal enough to be classed as a perpetuum mobile. never mind we will keep trying.
There appears to be a new and terrible hazard threatning the branch line service, this hazard was brought to the attention of the Railway and Air Traffic Authorities by Mr A Burns, Guard of this ilk. The threat is from low flying aircraft, particularly in the area between High Bridge and Birkhill. Council have reviewed the situation and it is belived that the need for specialised trained personnel in aircraft surviellance, has been identified. The Guards Van on the branch line and railtour sets, are to be fitted with Radar and part of the van adjacent to the present guards office is to be made into a aircraft surveilance office. This office will be manned by a specially trained Aircraft Strategic Surveillance & Helicopter Optimum Low Elevation officer who will be in addition to the current manning.
Training courses, run By Guard Burns, will be started when ever resources become available.
We are all were aware of England’s shortage of water, but it seems that liquid agents, sometimes known as (Agent provocateur de l’eau or e l’eau, e l’eau), have been scheming to steal tanks of water from the railway. The villans of the peace have targeted the tanks of 419 and intended to purloin the tanks when full and ship them to the rocky peninsular on the South Coast of Scotland, when no one was looking. Horace and I rumbled their little plan and duly chewed throught the water column rope, that Sparkes and son were intending to use to lift the tanks off the locomotive. The rope broke under strain and fell inside the tank. Best laid plans of mice and men etc etc. It is a good job Mr Verth was unaware of these syruptishus goings on, or I fear there would have been blood and fur on the floor of the running shed.
Well, it still has not moved. Maybe something wrong with its perpetuum.
It has been reported that there has been an attempted break out of the MMPD. This has to be viewed as the reciprocal of ram raiding, where them that’s in want out. I know it has always been difficult to gain entry to the MMPD, us mices have one hell of job, but the peripitetic welder must have been awfy desperate to get out. Mind you, is this another case of Alex King losing control of his apprentice.
Still has not moved. Maybe not Ethereal enough.
There has been claims of discrimination by the big heilander from Campbeltown, about why the sleeping car steward delivers morning newspapers to all the other occupied cabins, but not to his. He has been assured that this victimisation was not intentional, just purely deliberate.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 28th September 2006
It has been reported, that all the stops of the Hot Fog Department are being pulled out to complete the Clyde’s Mill No 3 locomotive and render it fit for operations this weekend. The feverish preparations are being led by Lieutenant Lumsden, ably assisted by Austerity Mashmole, Ol da and Dick to name but a few. In fact the entire department has been mobilised to provide a steam locomotive for the last train each day at the diesel gala, due to the unavailability of Diesel Drivers.
On a more serious note, a can of Irn Bru was reported missing, and the entire investigative powers and accumen of the Target Operational Financial Failure Evaluation Executive, (TOFFEE) was brought to bear on the matter. Head of Toffee toook personal charge of the search, he even recruited resident whipping boy Twinkle Toes, to assist in the search. The policy is that any customer of the confection tower in the Romney Hut, enjoys the full backup and weight of the whole of the Toffee Organisation. No stone was left unturned, all cars leaving the site were stopped and searched. An in depth exploration of all sheds, huts, stations, signal boxes and depots was carried out, sadly to no avail. The search area was expanded to include the entire Bo’ness district even as far as Linlithgow and Falkirk. Eventually Head of Toffee interviewed the victim of this tragedy and asked, “when was the item in question purchased from the tower” he replied that “A didnae buy it there, A goat it in Patels shoap in Byers Road in Glasgow.” At the time of writing Head of Toffee was not available for comment, as he was shifting beds around Scotland.
Some brave persons who use the running shed bothy to ablute, will have noticed that the number two trap now has a light that works. Thanks are due to Mr David Bryce ( Big Ears)
who very graciously sourced the aforementioned fitting, and did donate same to the Bothy.
Many thanks David for enabling the users to be seen in better light.
A little snippet from the past, about the operation of the Edinburgh and Glasgow Railway, E & G in LNER days at Eastfield, has reached my ears. Sometime in the Nineteen Thirties the Edinburgh train was passing Eastfield, having just climbed the hill from Queen Street Station, but appeared to be having difficulty in ridding itself of the Banker, usually a Class 3, N14. After a number of whistle signals there was no response from the Banking Engine, so the entire consist was brought to a halt, only to find that there was no crew on the banker. I wonder what the explanation was.
Many congratulations are due to Norman Girvan and Billy Willison on becoming a Passed Fireman. Another two to the happy band of shovellers.
Billy Willison getting some practice in!
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Norman Girvan getting in some practice!
It appears that new gauging titles are being brought into use by the Civils. if the gauge reads more than four millimetres over, it is referred to a Brunel’s gauge and the same figure under as Colonial. I have told them a million times before not to exaggerate.
Bye for now,
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 1st September 2006
Morayshire arrived back in Bo’ness with a piece of wood sticking out from underneath the tender, furthermore, this piece of would looked like a brake stick, no, no, not a broken stick, a brake stick. It is believed that this is the prototype of a new spare type of firemans shovel handle, to be used in extremis when firemen lose the hied, of the shovel that is. Yes you are correct, Tony Dance lost the head of the shovel in the firebox. He always said that due to his adeptness and flourish, when he was firing you would not see the shovel, he was right as all he could find was the handle. Toni, as resourceful as ever leapt down off Morayshire on arrival at Bo’ness and immediately tapped the furnace ( fire box to all in sundry) to run off the molten metal into a previously prepared mould. Alas alack the great machine had devoured the lot, even a painstaking forensic type search of the ashes after the day’s running, failed to produce any evidence of the remains of the shovel. This coal was far to bloody good.
The previous incident convenienly overshadowed an unfortunate incident when a fireman from Stepps, a little place to the west of Moodiesburn, connected up the vacuum bags after disconnecting the Locomotive. Due to the low tensile stress capability of the locomotive vacuum pipe and the flexibility of the vacuum bags, the locomotive and coaches did part company when the locomotive moved forward. Lo and behold, that was the reason that the brake stick was sticking out from underneath Morayshire’s tender. Well done to young Mr MacCallum, the driver, whose resourcefulness allowed the train to establish sook and continue on it’s lawful occasion. The identity of the culprit is not being disclosed, due to the fact that everybody knows who did it. Like a “ who dun it “ in reverse. There are those among us who do not make mistakes, they are the ones that do nothing.
After a very successful Thomas Weekend thanks are due to many people that made it happen but I feel that special mention must be made of the additional on train PICSSALO, Principal Infant Carriage Strategic Stowage and Logistic Officer. AKA Pram minder. Many thanks to Andy McLean for his help.
A report in the Glasgow Herald states that the “ Points are set for rail shake up” The cost of this shake up is to be 1.4 Billion, !.64 Billion inc VAT, then multiply it by the square of the age of your granny, will result in a cost overrun of 3 billion, My guess is that when all the excuses are taken into account I would not be surprised if the total bill to the Taxpayer does not reach 5 Billion pounds sterling. That is of course, if the scheme proposed is carried out. The basis for the need is the projected growth of 30% on the Edinburgh and Glasgow line by 2016, no that is not the time of the train, that is the year. In addition there will be 15 million passengers going through Glasgow Airport by 2030 and 20 million through Turnhouse on the same year, plus the 5 million using Prestwick all wanting to board trains. When you think about it, if you could stop the northbound aeroplanes carrying passengers for about a month, we could empty Scotland. Hey Presto, then not one penny need be spent.
This situation reminds me of the projected volume of horse shite, that would cover the streets of New York particularly outside the Penn Central Station. The alarm was raised, that due to the projected increase in rail travel, unless a removal system was put in place in the 1890s, one would have to wade knee deep through horse manure to gain access to the station. The city fathers embarked on an intensive recruitment and training schemes for both horses and handlers, Courses lasting a year for the handlers were set up and a special stud farm to breed the horses that would pull the carts that would remove the shite, was also requisitioned and the finest mares and stallions purchased. The idea was that there would be a 24hour removal system put in place. This was all but up and running, when somebody invented the motor car.
It has been noted that a new marketing tool has been developed to make potential passengers remember the railway. This tool is based on raising expectations of a train journey and then letting the train leave without the passengers. These passengers will still be talking about their railway experience yet. Novel eh.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 3rd August 2006
In the September 2006 issue of one of the leading monthly journals, with an emphasis on railways, there is an advert called a Our greatest-ever reader offer. This advert invites readers to book a once in a lifetime trip on a specially prepared Virgin Pendolino, on a Glasgow to Euston record attempt. This record attempt ( I’ll bet they will not be shovelling much coal), is going to try and go from Glasgow to London in under four hours. This exortation continues, that if it achieves the journey in 3hours 59 minutes it will become the first train ever to run southbound between the Capital Cities in under four hours.
Isn’t nice to know that this leading journal does not know the difference between Glasgow and Edinburgh, apart from if you have had your tea. What is causing more concern, is that does Virgin Trains know the difference between The Central and The Waverley? There is of course a profound level of confidence that our Big Railway owners under the guise of Network Rail, know the difference. After all what is 45 miles and political status between friends, as long as there is four feet eight and half inches between the rails.
I am pleased to report that a secret development, which has been nurtured in the Romney Hut, can now be revealed exclusively in this column. The new invention is an Impthostevisy which is the acronym for Imperial through steel viewing system. This system allows the detailed inspection of steel where it matters and is based on sound technical research, whereby the grain structure of the steel in question can be closely examined, at any point that is deemed necessary. This system is everything it is cracked up to be and is sufficiently versatile to be used in most locations. The operation requires to be carried out by a fully qualified Impthostevisior, who will cut the hole where required. The hole can be eliptical, square, round, triangular, rectangular even trapezoidal or any other shape one cares to come up with. Once the hole is cut it will be noticed that an area of inside steel becomes available for inspection. In addition this system allows one to see what is on the other side of the steel, without the need to circumnavigate the metal in question. This technique has in fact been around for a considerable time, steel washers for example were originally the by-product of this method of steel inspection and lo and behold a purpose was found for them. The same applies to colanders.
Dr. Ferrous McPhail using the system. Photo by Nifty Naismith
There is of course a product developed in parallel known as Methostevisy which is the metric through steel viewing system. This has been developed to allow the same facilities in metric steel, but will prevent the misuse of cutting imperial holes in metric steel.
Conglatulations to Paul Aucland from the Bluebell Railway on becoming a passed fireman on the Bo’ness and Kinneil. He throws a canny dice.
It is believed that first Great Western are looking for two mk 3 sleepers to increase their capacity on the Penzance – Paddington service. Rumours that they have been viewing our two vehicles, may not be rumours. There is also the other concern, that if First Great Western increase the size of their trains, their pals in the ORR are going to become even more upset at their tardy timekeeping. Maybe madness in their method ! How else do you have your rail services advertised on the front page of the Business Section of the Daily Telegraph complete with photograph of Paddington, without paying. The fact that FGW are averse to being punktyool, does not appear to have had a knock on effect on their 79.6 million pounds profit.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 7th July 2006
Head of Toffee, our EWS Resident Ambassador, is in sharp conflict with Twinkle Toes, our Resident Executive Grocer, over the supply of two ham and egg rolls. The director of Trading Operations Financial Failure Evaluation Executive, is seeking early settlement for the purvey supplied to the floor walker of the Railway Memorabelia Emporium, located in the Bay Platform. Despite the fullest explanation being given to Twinkle Toes by Head of Toffee, TT still refuses to cough up the reasonable sum of Ł120 per roll. It has been emphasised, that the high cost of the supply chain which had to be established, complete with the fall back provisions, to ensure that no interruptions occurred in the Slog Van’s retail posture, while the staff were eating their piece. In fact TT has told Head of Toffee what he can do with his ham and egg rolls. Head of Toffee is not available for comment at this time.
It is noticed in the Railway Press that the leading vehicle of the Swindon DMU Unit has arrived back in Bo’ness. While it is very good to see this vehicle back all refurbished, it has consumed a considerable amount of money from various sources. In a effort to recoup some of the monies ones attention is brought to the item in Tom Shields Diary, published in the Glasgow Herald many years ago. In the field of public health there was a need to send a strong message about the defensive methods against AIDS. The idea was that The London Rubber Company would be willing to pay handsomely, Ł1 million as mentioned, for the whole of a Glagow underground train to be painted as a giant condom. The opinions of the ladies of Hillhead and Kelvinside won the day and Strathclyde Passenger Transport Executive did not allow it to happen. A missed opportunity said many at the time. Since it has not been done yet, let us not miss the chance to find out what the reaction is of the ladies of Grangepans, Corbie Hall and Nether Kinneil. A Condom painted DMU going up through Snab Hill Bridge, I am sure it would arouse comment and earn money, maybe even shake off its Land Yacht image.
A jammy sandwich!
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, the Big Green Pug has left the shed and further more it was being made ready to climb the hill to Birkhill. On hearing the news Horace, Great Uncle Corrour, Gilbert and I, hitched a lift on the branch line train up to Crawyetts Bridge, with the aim of assisting with the sanding of the rails from Snab Hill Bridge to the High Bridge. We, that is Gilbert, Great Uncle Corrour and me, Horace was away looking for food, were scooping sand on to the rails with the aid of our tails, if fact we were doing rather well when Horace came back with a Jam sandwich that he had found under Crawyetts Bridge. To say we were delighted with the sustenance, is probably the understatement of the year. Having sat up on the rail eating away at the jam sandwich we heard the train coming and jumped down on to the ballast, except Horace he was stuck to the rail by the jam on his tail. He was always a messy eater. Panic panic, despite our combined efforts we were unable to release Horace’s tail from the top of the rail. As the train drew closer we told Horace to keep his head down and all that would happen was that he would finish up with a flat tail. Just as the first driving wheel of the Locomotive arrived at Horace’s tail it started to slip on the jam, then the tail stuck to the wheel and Horace was whipped round and round. He hung on with the rest of us watching dumb struck, as he spun round on the slipping locomotive wheel, sadly he then fell off and hit the side rod and the wee body was propelled into the bushes at the side of the track. Gilbert ran up to him and looked at the still body and said” Horace, speak to me”. There was silence and then, after a pregnant pause, one of Horace’s eyes opened and he said “ why the hell should I ? I passed you thirty times and you never opened your mouth”.
Well done to Linda our newest fireman, do not let go of the shovel it is a pure bugger firing by hand. Many congratulations.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 06 June 2006
It’s that time in the month again, when I send you my latest compilation of gossip, picked up from around Bo’ness and beyond. Many of you probably do not recognise me, or my friend Horace or even Uncle Corrour and his family at Birkhill, perish the thought that you may think that we are just vermin, but we own the site at Bo’ness and the only vermin are cats.
I hear that Mr Hamish Stevenson has found himself in conflict with the Awthentricity Committee, whereby they would not allow the alternate boards, of the recently repainted station building cladding, to be painted black and white. He feels that there is not a ounce of appreciation, been given to the fact that St Mirren have been elevated to the rarified atmosphere of the Premier Division. In Mr Stevenson’s own words, promotion was inevitable. In the football press the word is that they will be back where they belong, at the end of the season.
We must all welcome Alex king back from South Africa, to much sunshine is not good for him. I did detect that Alex has an air of disappointment with Heart of Midlothian football club, caused by the fact that they won (just) the Scottish Cup, without his assistance. Furthermore, news recently gleaned reports that Hearts have offerred to pay his season ticket next year, if he agrees to turn up missing.
Mr John Spacey, our Resident Waverley Staff representative, gave in impressive demonstration of how to shatter a Mark I door drop light. So complete was the destruction that not a single bit of the glass was deemed recoverable. It is believed that Mr Spacey is running courses, to train others in this skill. Mr I Boetcher is still muttering.
There is a new S.S.S.I. ( Site of Special Scientific Interest.) just to the Bo’ness side of the High Bridge, that is according to Firemen Extraordinaire Leggat and Cruickshanks. The Chairman, who was driver on Saturday the 3rd June, slowed the train right down at this point so that the passengers could observe the mating of the Golden Horned Toad. A rare sight indeed. Rumours that the slow speed was entirely due to a Low water level in the boiler and not enough steam, are quite malicious.
It wisnae by the time they were due,
That Thomas needed a Kettle or two,
The wee ones they did puff and blow,
But the big yins, they did not show.
Despite tubes galore and scratching heads,
The Muckle Engines stayed in their sheds.
it was terrible, in one fell stroke,
That both of them were truly broke.
This required another way,
to save Thomas for his great day,
what would pull the massive train,
A Diesel would have to take the strain.
Then there was an Awesome sight
A great big Forty Seven came into sight,
There the growlin engine did show,
The capability of suck squeeze bang blow.
There was power that one could feel,
Storming up through Nether Kinneil,
And all with such enormous sound,
With many wigglies that make the wheels go round.
On the Diesel Website, fun they do poke,
No hot fog machines, what a joke,
Their smugness they wish all to relate,
But this old mouse will not take the bait.
I notice in the national press that The North Yorkshire Moors Railway have moved their bank. I wonder if our bankers are similarly “moved”. How nice it would be, if they were overcome with emotion. There again it might not be to our advantage, if they took more interest.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 01 May 2006
Never mind being late last month, I am as pungktyool as I can be this month, I do hope that all concerned have noted, including our resident DDD (Diplomatic Digger Driver) ( Big Ears), from the (Modern Motive Power Depot), MMPD.
When the Swindon units were introduced to the Ayrshire and Clyde Coast services, my parents and I used to spend a few weeks each year hurtling up and down to Ayr, under the sink in Buffet Car Bar. where there was always good pickings to be had. One Monday morning on the first train from Ayr, a rather dishevelled lady appeared at the Bar and asked for a Brandy and Soda. The bar steward said “ A huvnae goat any” the lady then asked for a “Vodka and Tonic then” again the reply from the steward, “a hivnae goat that either”. The lady, still seeking the hair of the dog, requested several other alcoholic drinks none of which, as it turned out, was available, The bar steward then put his hand on the lady’s shoulder and said “listen hen, hae a cup of coaffee, its less than hauf the price and wull dae ye twice as guid,” Is that calibre of service matched to-day?
In the more rural parts of Scotland the horse drawn wagonnette, or open coach, was the the popular mode of transport to and from stations and steamers to final destinations. These wagonettes were the bus service of those days and considerable competition for passengers took place, usually by boasting how prompt they were or that they went faster and had more horses. Such a service was available, during the latter part of the 19th century, from Tarbert (Loch Fyne) to Campbeltown. Like all highly competitive services they often degenerated into straight forward racing and reckless behaviour ensued. One day the local Constable reported a coach being driven furiously, at speeds in excess of 25 miles an hour, as it passed through the village of Muasdale. At the resulting court case in Campbeltown, the Sheriff found the coach company guilty as charged and imposed a heavy fine. The following week in the Campbeltown Courier newspaper the company placed an advert, claiming they operated “The fastest coaches from Tarbert to Campbeltown, verified in court of Law”.
There are whisperings in the London underworld, I mean underground, that there is a plan to bring the redundant Post Office railway back into service, with a few extensions to allow Government Ministers to move about their business with greater efficiency. It is felt that the time spent in Congestion Zone traffic jams in Mr Livingston’s City, could be better spent. There is of course the added benefit of avoiding television cameras and reporters, particularly when things are not going too well. The Deputy Prime Minister is believed to be in charge of the operation, due to his transport background and recruiting safety critical staff is now underway. Strangely enough though, only those of the male sex are permitted to train as Guards, in direct contradiction to the Government’s declared anti discriminatory policy. The reason for this attitude seems to be a centred around a minister’s aversion to female whistle blowers.
The NB shunter seems to need even more batteries to try and and start it, would be a step in the right direction to get rid of the Diesel Engine, and fit an electric motor?
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 15 April 2006
I must apologise for being so late in sending my April letter, this was due to ever increasing demands on my time, brought about by so much off site activity at Ripley and Loughborough, for example.
Keeping up with the travels of Mr J Mair Coal Leggat, the railway’s resident pilgarlic, has stretched the resources of Horace and I to the limit. Never mind the distance to Loughborough, securing transport was difficult enough, with us having to sneak on to the same car as Tom Willison, only to be stopped halfway down into England by the Polis. Most embarrassing, I did not know where to look, but the matter was ably sorted out by Tom and off we continued on our journey, without a criminal record. Our arrival at the Great Central was greeted by J. Leggat complaining about the quality of the English chisels, he having just managed to destroy one. Nonetheless, the progress being made with 80105 is very good and many thanks are due to the stalwarts who have achieved so much. The big advantage of the Great Central is the number of cafes resturants and messes, not to mention dining trains, that poor mouses like Horace and I can find quality crumbs.
But things were happening back at the ranch. A terrorist alert was raised concerning the artillery activity in the running shed on Sundays. Horace and I had to hot feet it back to Bo’ness. Goes to show we can’t leave the place for ten minutes and all hell breaks out. In short, or rather in long, when one enters the running shed on Sundays, there is a risk of being hit by a missile. These missiles are being launched by Wee Bob, using a catapult ( Roman Influence) in attempt to reduce, no, eradicate the Collar Dove population, that have taken up residence in the aforementioned shed. One might say the reciprocal of David and Goliath. These Doves of Peace are shitting on No24 which Bob has just painted. Bob does not appreciate the extra punctuation, these avian script writers have added to N.C.B. West Ayr Area, which he has just written. Full flak jackets and helmets to be worn in the running shed on Sundays until further notice.
I am not one to clype, but since it was such a public occurrence a few lines came to mind.
Nae mair coal.
With Thomas and a carraige or two,
Was all that they really had to do,
To keep it going, more or less,
From distant Birkhill to Bo’ness.
Their bunker was becoming low,
But their fire had a nice glow,
They would manage down the slope,
into Bo’ness was their hope.
The fireman, with panache and flair,
Young Lothian found he was shovelling air,
It was mair than he could thole,
to find that there wis nae mair coal.
Oh Bo’ness there you are in sight,
Have mercy on our sorry plight,
With all the steam they could extort.
They came to a halt, one train length short.
Oh when an engine you do take,
to Birkhill with its three coach rake.
Note how much that you do burn,
and keep enough for your return.
There occurred and incident in the Romney Hut, which was a mixture of good and bad fortune, where Horace found a way in to Head of Toffee’s chocolate stock cupboard. This was due to an ill fitting door that had a gap at the top, how we had not found it before is a mystery. But one time when big Ian opened the door to the stock cupboard, Horace was asleep against the door having nearly finished the goodies on the top shelf. Horace fell to the ground and bounced into the bottom shelf, Lo and Behold, another Alladin’s Cave. Big Ian was very displeased on discovering his stock devoured without payment and promptly slammed the door shut and went off to remonstrate with Lieutenant Lumsden, about his misfortune. On his return with mouse proof storage boxes, he was further dismayed to find that Horace had eaten his way through most of the stock in the lower shelf. What Mr Ian Forsyth ( the Romney Hut Grocer) said, would not usefully add to this news item.
Big Ears dealt a glancing blow to the Civils Barrow, when he was driving the shunter. What Lawrence said he would do to Big Ears, makes one shudder.
Nice to see the Thane of Morayshire around the site again with his new universal axle boxes fitted, he now limps straighter. Bet you he still loses his keys though.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 05 March 2006
Mr Tony Dance must be congratulated on his achievement in tidying up the Kindling Hut. The rubbish has been removed and all the timber stacked in ship shape fashion.
It was with good fortune that I was scurrying around the Reserve Collection Building, when I heard an in depth conversation between George Lumsden and Alex King,.next to Percy.
I am hiding on the footplate behind the glove.
George --- “ Any chance of getting your apprentice to weld up that hole.”
Alex ---- “ are you sure it is a hole?”
George ---- “ well you can see daylight through it.”
Alex ------- “ That does not make it a hole “
George --- “ Then what does it make it “
Alex ----- “ It could be a Windae”
George --- “ It is no a windae”
Alex ------ “ How no?”
George ---- “ There’s nae curtains.”
Alex ------ “ I see, therefore, what your saying is that the molecular structure of the
decarbonised iron has changed sufficiently due to chemical reaction of H2O
and carbonic acid with the parent material.”
George---- “ No I am saying it is rotten.”
Alex ------- “ I do not know about that, anyway I have no authority to touch this locomotive
without the Awethentricity Committee’s say so.
George --- “ I’ll go and see Ken himself.”
Percy is looking real posh now that the work is complete.
Head of Toffee’s is still on the investigative warpath, despite the splendid performance of Twinkle Toes and his team at the recent Model Railway Exhibition. Twinkle toes is fair worried.
TWINKLE TOES
Congratulations are due to Peter and his assistants for the effort made and result obtained, well done.
There is a coach in the diesel shed upon which many people are working, in fact so many it at times looks like Santa’s workshop two weeks before Christmas. The influence of this coach is being felt weel beyond the boundaries of the Diesel Shed to the Romney Hut, where Magic Mashmole is turning out bushes by the ton. It did come to my notice, during the bush making evolution, that the Bank of England would be advised to move their money and other valuables from Tonbridge to the MMPD, because it is one hell of a place to get into, if you are not amongst the privledged and made privy to the code. Even when penetration of the bastion is achieved, you are faced with the final denial by Big Ears our DDD. Securitas eat your heart out.
You will all have noticed the fine new hard wood timber sleepers upon which the chairs and rails are resting at the Bo’ness Platform East End Head Shunt. You will also have noticed the national press and television coverage, about a hardwood timber that is wafting about in the breeze inside a newsworthy building, in the area of Holyrood in Edinburgh. You will also have noticed that this timber that is wafting about is Oak and is twelve feet long or thereabouts. Those of you who work on the track will also be aware that one of the difficulties in replacing wooden sleepers, is obtaining the long hard wood timbers of about twelve feet and longer, needed where sleepers are being replaced where the rails diverge at points. Now I think it might be prudent not to say any more about where the Civils Group have been procuring the necessary timbers. Just that it is a great pity that they were disturbed the other night.
Little did we know that Tony Dance’s tidy up of the kindling hut was just a cover so that he could make up the substitute beams out of old pallets, for the roof of the building in holyrood. Isn’t this investigative journalism fun?
The Thane of Morayshire has managed to have himself booked into Ross Hall, for a new axle box. I am sure we all wish him well. See if we care if he thinks that a spare Austerity Box is not good enough, albeit second hand.
It is utter conjecture, that an organiser of the corporate entertainment suites in Ibrox, has been disciplined for reputedly leading a party into cheering their host, by shouting Hib Hib Hooray.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 05 February 2006
A level of alarm was caused when the Civils Courier Coach could not be found. Conflicting reports were received about definite sightings, they saw it here, they saw it there, they saw in everywhere, some say in the RCB, some say in hell, where is the Civil’s Pimpernell. If anybody had asked me I would have told them that it was in the goods shed and that it was no longer green. Somebody has painted it a real non-descript colour. You must understand that Horace and I have taken up residence in the civil’s coach once again, it is quite snug at least with one of the guards doors having been refitted, it not so “ en flute”, as Mr John mair coal Leggat advised. Despite the vehicle having been located, a key to the Goods Shed could not. The matter became so serious that the full investigative weight of Head of Toffee was levelled at the situation. No stone or sleeper was left unturned but sadly the officer in charge came back to the track gang at the South Road of the Running Shed and did intimate to all those in attendance, the sad news of his failure to find a person who held a key to the goods shed. Donald McLeish who was by now standing beside the Chief Executive of Toffee, said “I have got a Key to the Goods Shed.” There was great rejoicing by the multitude ( all four of us), now the proper tools to do the job would now be available to lift the bloody rails. Head of Toffee was not amused.
I read in the national press that there have been complaints from residents, whose properties are near a railway line, about the amount of Hooting the drivers are doing when driving their EMUs in Southern England. On investigation it was discovered that the new EMU Horns have a different tone, and at the location in question the trains are passing a Whistle Board for the approaches to a Level Crossing. I wonder who would be first to castigate the railway should a train strike someone, on the crossing. Two hoots and yer oot.
Please note that Mouses can be vengeful, again in the international press it was reported that a Mouse in Mexico having been caught by a people, was thrown alive into a bonfire in the house garden. The mouse, its coat aflame, ran back into the wooden house, took refuge under a window sill and the tinder dry wood caught alight and the house burned down. Ashes to ashes dust to dust. Revenge indeed, so mouse catchers beware, we are not to be trifled with.
Just heard that there is a Mr Strachan who runs a football team, whose home ground is in the east side of the City of Glasgow. The aforementioned Mr Strachan has let it be known that he would like the Local police Force, that manages the crowd at home games, to change their name. It is believed that the force replied with the suggestion, that they be called the Clyde Force. There appears to have been no response from Parkhead corridors of power.
They may play in Cumbernauld now, but the spirit of Shawfield lives on.
There has been rising concern about a fully armed Catalyst masquerading as a Mousalyst, with intent to eliminate all mouses on the railway. Horace, Uncle Corrour and I being sharp little cookies, spotted the disguised felon and misled him into having his photie took by Alex.
From now on our resident Mouse Decoy Diplomatic Digger Driver, will be known as Big Ears.
The strength behind Barr’s.
I notice that Mr Blair (2nd cousin twice removed ) from you know who, our resident first class Brickie, is building the new bothy in the diesel shed. I do hope consideration is being given to accommodating an access for us mouses.
Our new development Officer Mr J Mayes, gave an impromptu course in Management to the slaves and ordinary jerks lifting the Running Shed South Road. He instructed those who wished to practice good management, just to frown and point. This policy was pursued and every body including the Chairman began pointing. It was found after a while, that the siding we were trying to lift did not move. Maybe the rails and the sleepers did not listen properly.
Overheard from a Civil’s worksite on the recent promotion of a Ballast Shoveller to a Senior Ballast Shoveller, “ The working class can kiss my arse I’ve got my gaffer’s job at last.”
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 05 Jan 2006
Happy New Year to you all, except Mr D Bryce our resident Diplomatic Digger Driver, (DDD) to whom I extend the most profound best wishes, but your cats can be taxidermered at any time, and I do not mean a wee hurl in a motor car. It is always disarming to find out that a member of the SRPS is in fact a Catalyst, who precipitates a fall out with Mousalysts and Mousalysts rule, understand. The policy still remains, No cats on the railway, except the one with the 419’s tyre profile on its tail, it may be needed.
While I am wishing everyone a Guid New Year, life in the Romney Hut is anything but guid. Lieutenant Lumsden has blitzed the midden at the far end of the hut, cleared out all the rubbish and found box spanners that have not seen the light of day for years. Stilsons of all varying lengths have obviously been breeding, well why else was it that one single stilson could not be found before the start of the operation, now there is a wheen of them. About ten Crow Foot spanners have also been liberated. But again our refuge has been destroyed, after baling out of the Civils Courier Coach, after somebody swiped the doors. it is also believed that a sweeping brush quarry has been unearthed.
Despite the heavy criticism of the statement in our timetable a few years ago, that trains run daily except Mondays, from members of the LOGS Railway Memorabelia Emporium Management Team, it appears that double standards are being employed. When they advertise their shop to be open on the first Sunday of every month and lo and behold it is not open on the first Sunday of January 2006. Thee be hung by thine own petard, methinks. What explanation Head of Toffee gave to all the punters that are arrived by the busload from all over the UK, to visit the only shop open in Scotland on New Years Day, only to find it shut is unknown to me, although I did perceive that he was none too pleased. I can only suggest that Twinkle Toes, alias Billy Elliot, and his cohort David Thornton, prepare to leave the country. No, with second thoughts, they would be better to do it.
Just heard that the Waverley, the station not the Paddler, is to have Ł53 million spent on it rehashing platforms and rearranging everything. It is believed that Mr J Spacey is behind the policy that Mouses will be banned from the refurbished Waverley. In fact they do not even welcome us now, strange folk at the Waverley.
It is a good job that, that nice Mr John mair coal Leggat leaves ready meals out for Horace and I in the bothy. Mind you we had a fright the other night when the big heiland laddie came into the Romney Hut at about 0100, that’s about one in the morning, to stoke the fire. I assume he did it to give us round the clock heating. He did not put the lights on and used his torch to find his way to the far end of the hut. I thought he said as he passed Nos 19 and 7; “My torch and beery breath they guideth me through the shadow of the Austerities.
Heard that Ol Granda is relocating his spare wheel on to the bonnet of his Lexus and fitting chunky tyres, in attempt to circumvent the new rule that only Land Rovers are permitted to be parked on the coal road. I am told he has even bought a can of spray on mud.
Blowing out from the Chimney of Hamiltons Cottage,” ye know, wu’ll hiv tae get it roughly accurate”.
When Gerry Begg was challenged that he was putting on a coat of primer inside out, he confirmed that it was actually upside down and hoped no one would notice. Of course we will not mention it to anyone.
May 2006 be good to you all.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 16 Dec 2005
There was terrible sad news from the MMPD, a mouse was found on the floor and did not respond to the recovery procedures levelled at it by the, we can hack it, brigade of concreters. (see Diesel Web Site). The identity of the mouse was established as my second cousin Wilberforce. He was not very bright, hence he was seeking sustinance in the MMPD, when everybody knows that if the concreters were ghosts, they would not give you a fright.
Up in the Sierra Manuel a considerable amount of work was being carried out on the points at our end of the link line from Network Rail, when Lawrence Kemp did a silly thing. He gave a can of yellow marker to the Secretary General, with the instructions to go and identify all sleepers that did not come up to our exacting standards. Lawrence casually waved his hand in the general direction of Edinburgh, as he was issuing this instruction. The Secretary General, ever obedient, proceeded with his task. After a short while the alarm was raised by David Heath, as to the intended limits of the Secretary’s area of operations, as it appeared he was heading for the Waverley as he rapidly approached the boundary gate. One could imagine the resulting furore, if the lords and masters of our National Network found a plethora yellow condemnation crosses on their sleepers, be they steel concrete or whatever, between Bo’ness Junction and Haymarket. Mind you it would have become dark before the Secretary General had reached Linlithgow. The comments of Mr David Bryce, our D.D.D. ( diplomatic digger driver.) would not add usefully to this news item.
It has come to my notice that Big Chief Running Shed, together with his braves Naesteam and Naecoal have been carrying out the role of Agent Provocateur. They have been syruptishushly turning over the pre- dumped sleepers so that the gaps in the growth rings are upwards, in the hope that the resident permanent way squad will not notice and put them under the track the wrong way. One of our alert team Mr Andrew Hemming cottoned on to this situation and took the remedial action of turning them over again. His further enquiry as to why the sleepers had to be laid with the growth rings gap downwards, brought no answers from his colleagues on the track, he therefore assumed that it was so that we would not notice the sleeper rotting from underneath. Do not tell the Secretary General, or he will be lifting very sleeper before putting a cross on it.
Heard a wee story the other day, that Sleepy Heid Sutherland and 80105 had a difficult relationship one morning, but with strenuous effort the matter was more or less redeemed by the valient effort of Lee and others when the Thane of Morayshire didnae stop to have wee sook of water and had to come back off the train. Just heard that Ol Da won the 10 year old Bottle of Macallan’s malt at the Railway Bash last Saturday. Reminds one of an old highland saying, “ ye dinnae miss the water until the Whisky’s neat”.
For the winter I and my family settle down in the most comfartible position we can find, and you can imagine our delight that the Civils Courier coach was shunted into no 1 road R.C.B. Despite the honourable attempts by the civils to clean up the coach, it has been used a few times since and there is enough debris in the mess to sustain my family and I, although keeping Horace fed is always a problem. Then disaster struck somebody removed both of the Guard’s doors, yes both and our snug winter residence has been ruined. One could say that the coach is “A La Flute” My family and I are now in the market for some one who can nick the holes out of a Flute. All this is happening and our honourable Chairman is totally oblivious to the situation of the resident rodents, as he chews the end off a adjacent coach.
I know that Ian Boettcher is behind all this.
I was able to sneak in without a squeak, to the buffet building the night of the Railway Bash on the 10th of December. Well! one did have one’s eyes opened. There was Peter Knight while still under investigation by Toffee, dancing the light fandango with stunning skill and agility, hitherto PK is to be known as Twinkle Toes. It was also noticed that a fireman ( trainee) from Stepps won a few raffle prizes. There is no truth in the rumour that it was a fix.
I do feel that Lee Sutherland who arranged and made it all happen, should be congratulated along with all who assisted. Maybe this could become an Annual event, or the event developed to kick start the organised social aspect of the railway.
Bye for now
Shaper Mouse.
Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 21st Nov 2005
I do apologise to all my readers for the undue delay in despatching the Letter for early November, this was due to the considerable amount of work us mouses had in dealing with all that was happening at the Railway from Late October onwards. First the Morayshire dayboo with the refulgent engine poised at the platform coupled to the two Thompsons was a sight to behold. I will not mention the two mark ones, they do sterling service but even with their hebdomadal wash, they still do no favours to our image. Mind you the crumbs left behind by some of the guards keeps the sides of my stomach apart. I do think that the peformance of Morayshire, Driven by Nifty Naismith, leading, being banked by 419, driven by Jim Westinghouse Pump Verth, was a sight to savour and listen to. Well done to all who made it happen.
Then lo and behold Thomas complete with Holy tanks, is loaded and dispatched to somewhere in Englandshire in the company of Lee have shovel will fire Sutherland and John mair coal Leggat. Please support Lee’s doo on the 10th Dec, these tanks are needed and you can have a good time as well.
On top of that our resident Grandee, No not Ron its aload of mince Hill, 80105, it returned at some ungodly hour from the Strathspey Railway.
Saw the results and some questions and answers to the railway quiz.
The question about Achnacloich reminded me about a trip we had with old Great Uncle Corrour, when we hitched a lft on the train to Oban from Falkirk Grahamston. We were quite comfortable in the Guards Van nestled in behind a calf in a sack, so we all had a nimble of the calf’s food, which was not bad except it made Uncle Corrour fart heavily for the rest of the day. The train was running about ten minutes late when it arrived at Achnacloich, and despite the agitation of the guard for a prompt dispatch, the Station Foreman was holding a door open up near the front of the train, while he was being updated on the local news by his cousin from Dalmally. At this juncture the fireman, anxious to lose no more time since every minute late meant less time on the turn round at Oban, came back along from the Black Five and informed the Foreman in a bellowing stage whisper “this train runs to a timetable, not a bloody calendar” shut that door. The train promptly left with the Station Foreman muttering, “never been the same since they allowed firemen to read.”
A few weeks ago Big Chief Runningshed, Naesteam and naecoal, decided that they would gather a few braves together and ambush the civils train and plunder the pandrol clips. Since the intelligence they had received from their resident spy, indicated that the train was going beyond deepest Nether Kinneal into the Sierra Manuel. They made their plans and laid the trap at the Southern side of the great wagonway and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and became very wet because it was raining. They further waited and became fed up disgruntled and went home. The following day they found out that the civils, being a bunch of wimps, did not take the train up because it was raining. Big Chief Runningshed went out into the sierra to find the spy, to tell him to buck his ideas up. On seeing someone and challenged him “ are you the spy” the man replied, “ no I am not, I am a Shepherd” “Ok” said Big Chief Runningshed “we could do with a Shepherd spy.” We’re awfy hungry.
I must report the disappointing news that the Civil’s Courier Coach has been cleaned up, there is not even a morsel left on the floor of the mess and the tool workshop has been tidied up as well. Is nothing sacred.
Heard in the wind at Manuel Junction, “ why do you take an instant dislike to me ?“ it saves time”.
Ken and Alex are to be congratulated on their efforts to glue the remaining steel of the running shed bothy boiler, together with other bits of the original steel, with the aid of copious quantities of weld. I believe a new lum is also under construction.
Many congratulations to James Robertson on being elected Chairman of the society.
bye for now,
Shaper Mouse.
Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello Everybody, 20th Oct 2005
For as long as I can remember my distant relatives, referred to as Uncle Corrour’s lot, have been resident in the bank opposite Birkhill platform. The deep vegitation was most suitable for the only family of mouses that only ate organic, naturally available food and ignored the crumbs from the table of the obese humans. Lo and behold, the Civils then do the most uncivilised thing and cut back all the vegetation on the aforementioned bank, thus rendering old uncle Corrour and his wheen of offspring, homeless. This catastrophic occurrence has not been given a mention in the local press never mind the National News, to say the least they are pretty scunnered. They have now moved to Todds Mill and have issued a very severe warning to Messrs Robertson and Kemp, that they will call in the big fellas, if this policy continues.
Over the last few months I have been priveledged to travel on the lamp bracket ‘s of Caley 419, Morayshire and No 1. During these visits, which I thoroughly enjoyed although a bit chilly at times, I seized the opporchancity of travelling on the footplate and observed the behaviour of the footplate crews, as I hid in the toolbox or other suitable location.
It has always struck me that the operation of a locomotive would lose something, if the driver and the fireman did not growl at each other. “Ye’ ll need mair in the corners,” “ No wull no” “ Pit mair in the corners” “ Wu’ll blow aff” “No wu’ll no, ye’ll need water” “ Biler’s goat plenty watter” “wu’ll ye pit some coal in that box now” “ A’right but mind ye said it”. After a period relative calm with just a few grunts and grumbling, the train arrives at its destination, where there is always the in depth discussion about who is going to oil what.
This matter brought to mind the case I read about in the 1937 records of the Glasgow Sheriff Court, where a fireman of the London Midland and Scottish Railway was accused of striking a driver with a shovel, which as a result of his action did cause the driver to be injured. The case proceeded with the usual wittering of legalese, of how the fireman did with malice aforethought on the footplate of a streamlined locomotive, hauling a prestigious service of the said Company from Carlisle to Glasgow, strike the driver of the locomotive a heavy blow, with the implement that is normally used to transfer coal from the tender to the firebox of the great engine. This incident appeared to have occurred in the region of Crawford, a few miles north of Beattock. The Fireman’s Defence Counsel leapt into the fray pleading that the fireman had no intention of harming the driver of the Coronation Scot, that due to the immense noise in the cab, he merely wished to tap the driver on the shoulder as a note of congratulations, on the splendid performance of the great high speed machine having just recently attained the summit of famous climb. The counsel went on to emphasise that the fireman’s intention was of an accolade, like the name of the train it could be said that the fireman intended to Coronate the driver. He went on further saying it could be considered a gesture of endearment. The Counsel continued to plead that, sadly while the fireman was carrying out this token of appreciation, the locomotive lurched resulting in the driver being hit on the head with shovel. Whether the Sheriff believed this story is not recorded, but the fireman was admonished and told not to do it again and if he wished to congratulate the driver in future, he was to stick to shaking hands.
It makes you wonder, if the name of the train was established because some fireman Coronated the driver with the shovel, and not as is commonly believed that it was in celebration of the Coronation of King George the Sixth.
Talking about drivers may I congratulate Mr Tom Willison on becoming a fully fledged driver, well done, but beware of gestures of endearment from firemen.
If you see a grey cat with what looks like a tyre profile half way up its tail, it is because it is a tyre profile. During the timing and setting of valves of 419, the locomotive was inadvertantly parked on the cat’s tail. You could have heard the row in Linlithgow. With a bit of luck that brute will keep clear for a while, or better still disappear for good.
bye for now,
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut
Hello everbody 4th Oct 2005
Recent reports from the Head of Toffee in the northern wastes of the North American Continent, have suggested that the search for answers as to why the sales of memorabillia at the Model Railway Exibition did not meet set targets, have been abandoned. In its place a quest has been mounted to seek out the Baileys Irish Cream fountain, which is reported to be in the area of Churchill on the shore of the Hudson Bay. Our intrepid explorer and EWS ambassador, did kit himself out with all the necessary equipment including sledges and dogs and sufficient stores, and left Churchill Railway station assuring everyone that he would find the Bailey’s Fountain. Mr P Knight, PK to his friends, did wish that the dugs would urinate on the food and thus force him to return with no Baileys. More from Toffee hied, I mean Head of Toffee, next letter.
Heard wafting out of the bothy, “ She’s got a figure like a bag o’ rolls; “ I cannot think what engine they were referring to.
A number of years ago, about the late fifties, I was taken by my late uncle Wilberforce to Glasgow Queen Street Station for a holiday and a feast in the train crews mess, along with the occasional tit bit from the Buffet cars on the new Swindon DMU sets. During that visit the following incident occurred.
In the bad old days of Queen Street Station, most trains were banked up the incline to Cowlairs by a Class 3 0-6-2 N14s, although in the twilight of real locomotive operations sometimes a class 4 Standard Tank would carry out the banking task. In a number of occasions if the incoming train was late, it would be stopped at Eastfield and the Train Engine changed for the Banking Engine to speed up the turn round in Queen Street Station. Most movements of Empty Coaching Stock ex Eastfield/ Cowlairs, into Q St were carried out by the N14s.
Once the Swindon Diesel Multiple Units were established in the Glasgow-- Edinburgh Service, the need for banking engines was confined to the North and West Highland services. Except for the 5.35pm Glasgow to Edinburgh stopping train. It stopped at every wayside pub on it’s way to the Capital, it even paused at Rough Castle box. The management of Queen Street seemed to regard this traditional service a bit of an imbuggerence, which interfered with their new super DMU service. The E.C.S. movement into Q St was usually on platform about ten past five, immediately after the departure of the 4.55pm Non stop to Haymarket and Waverley and the 5,00 departure which stopped at Falkirk High and Linlithgow in addition. The 5.35 invariably left from platform two which penetrated further into the station concourse than it does to-day. One winter’s night the ECS which was to form the 5.35 had not arrived and the assistant assistant Station Master, complete with Bowler Hat and a clip board was becoming incandescent as to where the train was and quite determined that it was not going to interfere with the departure of his 5.30 to the city from platform 3. This message he emphasised many times down the telephone which was mounted at the end of the platform. Anyway the Emply coaches for the 5.35 arrived at 5.32, and while the fireman was under fitting the slip coupling, the Assistant Assistant Station Master went up to the driver and informed him that he should have been here at ten past five, to which the driver replied “why? what happened?”.
Observing Ken Simpson, dismantling the Royal Mail Electric Buggie with a view to making it into a trailer and Alex King, David Hoskins and Alisdhair Silcock all watching, comment was passed that it was like working for the toon. This comment brought to mind the age old doggerel.
When yir working fur the toon,
when yir workin fur the toon,
ye never let yir hied up,
cos ye never hiv it doon.
bye for now,
Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut 6th September 2005
Hello Everybody,
As I promised, a report on Horace’s activities in the last quarter. You will all not be surprised to know that he has been eating, in fact he has been eating an awfy lot these days to the extent he is rotunder than ever. Irrespective of all his various expeditions he still keeps rabbitting on about when he was having his dinner under the table In the main dining room at Gleneagles. The occasion was the G 8 summit meeting and the world leaders were having dinner of Canapies, Consomme, Champignon Au Crouton, Poulet something or other and pudding. Well Horace was yet again, going on about having dinner with President Bush and his cohorts under the table of the large Radial Arm Drill in the workshop we have all come to know and love. No, Bush and Blair were not having their dinner in the Romney Hut under the Radial Arm Drill. Horace was holding court under the ---- well you know what I mean. After Horace had finished his dissertation for the umpteenth time wee Archie, the resident mouse from the MMPD, asked “what are Croutons”. The rest of us were glad he had asked, because we didnae hae the guts to admit wur ingnorance. Horace looked at us all with disdain and announced that “Croutons wis another name fur soggy toast”.
HEAD OF TOFFEE
Head of Toffee has taken the matter of the current investigation to new horizons and is carrying out a detailed search in the Northern wastes of the North American Continent. Not a single iceberg or glacier is being left untouched in thoroughness by which his search for the reason why the Target was not met. He will not rest, therefore he becomes awfy tired, and goes to sleep. No one escapes from Toffee
“There is trouble at Mill” as the saying goes in Yorkshire, the Firemen including trainees were up in arms, no very pleased and were upset. This situation had come about because there did not appear to be any intention of compensating the firemen for the extra walking they have to do to fire Morayshire. Their application for distance money or Mileage allowance, ( kilometre allowance does not apply on an imperial railway), was turned down flat because Lieutenant Lumsden said that the distance from the bunker aperture to that of the firebox hole, did not qualify. There followed subsequent claims by the firemen of Instrangience, derisory, unacceptable and many other adjectives that nobody understood. Eventually after threats that they would withdraw their labour, the Lieutenant caved in and finally agreed that the firemen would be paid an allowance of 20% of their present salary. The matter closed with the mutterings of Lieutnant Lumsden saying “to many Bolshi trainees from Stepps, we need to recruit from a better part of Glasgow”. Bill Warren please take note.
A very warm welcome to Mr John Mayes our new development officer, I do hope he is able to do something destructive as far the bloody cats are concerned, and that he finds the time to develop the anti cat week.
Bye for now,
The Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut 17th August 2005
Hello Everybody,
Many have been asking what has happened to my rotund friend Horace, well he has not been well, which means that he has been awfie no weel. This condition was brought about by eating too much when we were at Gleneagles, yes I know that he always eats too much but this time he over did it by quite a margin, that means a bit on the side. No it does not mean he had a bit on the side, it is the margin that is the bit on the side. Oh never mind. After he was stuck down the hole in the Gleneagles Golf Course, where there was a high risk of the 18th flag pole being put where he would not like it, there was a level of panic until we rescued him just in time. He has not been quite the same since, but still eats like a horse though he does not know how to say neigh. He has now fully rekoooperated and furthermore is back to normal. More about his activities next episode.
It may not be known by everybody but there has been an on going investigation by Mr I. Forsyth (our resident EWS Ambassador) and Mr A. Silcock (our sleuth extraordinaire), about the failure to meet pre-set targets on the railway memorabilia and printed document stall, at the S.E.C.C. last February. This stall was set up under the auspices of LOG Scotland, at the Model Railway Exhibition, the exhibition was first class but LOG Scotland stall takings, could not be considered MODEL, in the opinion of the Trading Operational Financial Failure Evaluation Executive, (TOFFEE). The head of TOFFEE has carried out a deep, in fact an awfie deep investigation as to why the Target was not met, in the buoyant trading conditions experienced last February. The focus of the investigation has been pin pointed, ie he knows who to victimise for the takings falling short by Ł85. Despite Peter Knight being given ample opportunity to come clean an admit that his selling technique failed, he should be glad he does not work for the Bank of Scotland, because according to recent newspaper reports, they put a cabbage on the head of those who fail in this manner. Mr Knight claims that he wiz kept in the dark, but nonetheless keeps portraying the role of “ I am hard done by”, to such an extent that he tried to escape. It is good job that TOFFEE are up to all his tricks and carried out an immediate search the moment he was reported missing. Mr Knight thought that 80105, which was lying up the east end head shunt was about to be loaded on to a lorry for Aviemore. Wrong, it had just been delivered from Aviemore the previous day and when it was pulled on to the pit, a grunt was heard from the Fire Box. The lead member of TOFFEE was in there like a flash and lo and behold Peter Knight was extracted from the firebox.
No one escapes from TOFFEE, they stick to the task..
In that case I wish to ask TOFFEE to assist in ridding the railway of the cats. There are now two of these bloody brutes one even managed to gain entry into the Romney Hut Bothy, not only that, was actually up on top of the cooker. We intend to organise an an A. C. W. that’s an anti cat week.
Anyway, now to more graceful things. We had a visit from Royalty a little while ago and the Duke of Gloucester seemed particularly impressed with the railway at Bo’ness. He was very interested in the work that Ron Hill was doing, we do not know what The Duke said to him, because it is classed as private, but we certainly saw Ronnie doff his bunnet. It now appears that if any of us lesser mortals wishes to talk to Ronnie, we have to apply for an audience. Ol Da’s comments on being made aware of the new arrangements, were a trifle pithy.
In celebration of the Royal visit I leapt on to the lamp bracket of No 1 together with my Scottish Royal Standard, that’s the yellow one with the Lion Rampant, for those who are not up to date on heraldry. While it seemed a good idea at the time, by the time the engine arrived at Birkhill I was bloody cold. One could say “ it would have severed the spheres of a brazen antropoid.”
Bye for now,
The Shaper Mouse
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Letter from the Romney Hut 25th July 2005
Hello Everybody,
When the Mice are away the Cats will play. Have received reports that a grey Tom Cat has been visiting the Railway when we were away at Gleneagles. This creature has been able to do this with impyoonity and furthermore, naebody tried to stop it. Well we’re back and that beast better make itself scarce, or there will be skin and hair all over the platform. The policy is no cats on the Railway, got it!!!
After years of corrosion caused by a mixture of Cats Pee, Sulpher in Locomotive Ash and straight forward rust, undulations began to appear in the South Road of the East Running Shed sidings. On removal of the hard packed ash there was exposed a rail in very poor condition, so the hunt was on to find a replacement length of 60lb flat bottom. Such a length was found on No 2 Romney Hut siding. With the leadership of Mr MacCallum and Alex King, together with considerable help from our peripitetic heilander and Mr Ian Forsyth, our resident EWS ambassador, we were able to reduce the number of gaps in the Bo’ness and Kinneil network. Mr Ian Boettcher wery graciously loaned drilling machine and drills and hey presto with a little help from Shaun Alan and David the job was completed on Monday. Special mention must be made of the determination and considerable heavy work carried out by Brian Williams, without whose efforts the task would not have been completed.
Many congratulations to James and Lawrence for their leadership and singleness of purpose and to all those who assisted in achieving the line upgrade to 25 tons. It brings to mind the old Hit Parade song. about life in a mining camp. ---
“ Sixteen tons and what do you get,
Another day older and deeper in debt,
Say brother why don’t you call me cause I can’t go,
I owe my soul to the company store.
Twenty five tons and what is the bets
That Morayshire steams over Crawyetts
That Morayshire’s ready, oh no no
The starboard injector still won’t go.
I reported in my last letter that the British Rail Rodent’s Ball, which was to be held in the Romney Hut Bothy, had to be cancelled due the fact that the flair of the bothy wiz a’ knoats.
We therefore had a problem of trying to find a suitable railway location that nobody would object to, or if they objected we would be in a position to tell them to go away. Well we decided that after the revelations in the newspapers, that if you use the correct techniques like Mr Byers did, one can finish up with the whole bloody railway. This encouraged us to think big and therefore we approached Network Rail and intimated that we would like to hold our Ball in Waverley Station. They were quite amenable at first but one John Spacey intervened and said we were a Hygene risk. They do not say that about the cats in Waverley. After several suggestions by us and refusals by the Big Railway, we decided to use our trumph card and threaten them with an invasion of Steel eating mouses. This pestilence would be released unless they gave us location for a whole week to hold a full blown Rodent festival. After several days of muttering that it has not been done in the last 115 years, they eventually agreed we could have the Forth Bridge. Come and join us in tip toeing through the scaffolding. Now you know the real reason why the Bridge is closed.
I believe that Lawrence and James have been called over to the Forth Bridge, something about Network Rail wanting to increase the axle loading. Is the Monday, sometimes Tuesday squad being hired out?
Not able to understand what Lindsay and Young Stuart want with a new tumble drier.
Bye for Now
The Shaper Mouse.
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The Shaper Mouse. 1st July 2005
Hello everyone,
To say that I am upset is the understatement of the decade, there we were ( Horace and I ); all packed and ready, just waiting for the Invitation from Her Majesty to assist her in reviewing the Fleet and everybody elses bloody fleet by the look of it, at Spithead and Lo and Behold we are treated with contempt, nothing arrives not even a couple of railway tickets. Well it serves them right if we are not being invited to eat up the scraps on HMS Endurance, then I hope that those who do, have the shits for a week. I see that there are number of well heeled people not very pleased about coughing up a few thousand for a review of the Fleet from the Liner Queen Elizabeth the Second, only to find themselves anchored off about three miles away. This would never have happened in the days of the Southern Railway steamers. The railway steamers in the Solent were renowned for their speed and deftness in taking all available shortcuts depending on the tide, en route to and from the Isle of Wight. Mind you there were a few embarrassing occurrences, when they sometimes hit or even became stuck on the putty. For them that dinnae ken, Spithead is about 4 miles South West from Portsmouth Harbour Station, as the mullet swims..
Since we were not welcome at the review of the fleet, we have changed sides and instead of supporting law and order and the establishment, we have joined the protesters at the G8 summit. We were going to stop proceedings at the Scottish Parliament but were beaten to it by those who new the building better than we did. Horace and I have since went to Gleneagles. We caught the Perth train at Linlithgow and leapt off while the train was passing through the station at Gleneagles, it should have been named Auchterarder but that did not suit the hoy poloi of the Caledonian Railway, not many stop there now. Bloody draughty travelling on the bogie frame, Horace is too fat to feel it much, but when we lept from the train he rolled halfway down the platform and came to halt against a rubbish bin which toppled over, my goodness me dinner at a stroke. After scavenging through the contents of the bin, we were replete and went for a sleep. In the morning we made for the Gleneagles Hotel. As we struggled over the Golf course to reach the icon of Railway Grandiosement, we had to negotiate a number of security fences, which were really no bother to us and dodge the security guards. What was a bother was golfers and their bolshi caddies who kept saying that we were field mices, don’t they recognise a pure bred British Railway Rodent when they see one? They will be calling us rabbits next. This place is polluted with security even the resident cats are equipped with Flak Jackets, throat mikes and mobile phones. Anyway I digress, when we were negotiating the eighteeth green Horace went head first down the hole because he was so intent on doging the golfers, he did not notice that the flag had been taken out. Before he could be rescued someone putted a ball and it went into the hole, Horace immediately kicked it out. If you had seen the pantomime that ensued, the graciousness of golfing came to the fore, with all parties some now incandescent with rage, leaving the course threatening to instruct their respective solicitors. It is such a jolly nice game. I then did my hero and rescued Horace before somebody replaced the flag. Let you know later if we manage to penetrate the inner sanctums of Gleneagles.
I see we now have a landlord, the laird of the pit, Thane of Morayshire, complete with walking stick for belting round the Galloways.
I notice a increase in the number of trains stopping at Dunblane, nothing of course to do with Mr Murray’s performance at Wimbeldon. Weel done bonnie lad.
We were going to hold the the West Lothian Rodents Ball in the G & S W R van, which is used as the Romney Hut Bothy. When one our noble rodents from the Waverley asked if we had a flair for dancing, we had to admit oor flair wis a’ knots. As a consequence the event wis cancelled.
Bye for now,
The Shaper Mouse
Letter from the Romney Hut. Mid June 05
Hello everyone,
Well Well Well, am no ill honest, what is this I have been hearing, that the Lord Roberts, (No 1 to some, Thomas to the weans, and that Blue Pug to the friends of John Leggat) has been off the road at the East End running shed points. It appears that there was an attempt to take it round to the Birkhill end of the train by road. Any suggestion that the situation was caused by having the Chairman and the Operating Manager on the footplate at the same time, is just vindictive and malishus gossip.
Not content with running the poor Engine off the Road, it is parcelled up and sent to the Wensleydale railway near Northallerton, somewhere on the windswept rocky peninsular off the South Coast of Scotland, to earn some money for the society. During the road transportation evolution, severe damage was rendered unto the hand brake equipment of the Locomotive, which did not exactly please Ol’da. In fact it would be fair to say that J Leggat and Mr. Lee (have shovel will fire) Sutherland, were a bit upset about it and a’.
It is believed that Mr D McLeish is trying to organise a re-enactment of the Battle of Trafalgar, in celebration of the 200th anniversary of that battle, between Fairground Crossing and Kinneil Platform, with his rail trolley yachts. Anyone who falls to the ground during the battle will be deemed off his trolley.
The blown away heilander, John Leggat and Jim Verth, asssited by George Lumsden and others hingin aboot. Just about forgot OlGranda mounted on the fork lift truck. This team jacked up the rear of 419 and pulled out the Bogie from under, then proceeded to fit the new bolster bearing to the Bogie. Gone were the chalked files and blue marking, it was angle grinders to the fore, to fit the bearing into the cross slide. We all knew that there was a generous amount of material on the sides when the bearing was cast, but after a few hours of trying and grinding, success was achieved. Could be referred to as bearing up under the train.
Just think if you really do not want to make a protest in Edinburgh or Gleneagles during the G8 summit, why not enjoy a day out away from it all, on Scotlands Secret Railway.
No the civils have not gone loopy, they are working on the Station Loop, well done to Lawrence, James and their teams.
In the negotiations with the developer of the waterfront at Bo’ness it is fortunate that the Railway has able persons speaking on its behalf, just think we could have had Shroeder, Chirac and Blair. The outcome would then be a set of rules that nobody wants, a subsidy that has already be spent but nobody knows where and a strategy that nobody recognises while everbody else is throwing their teddies out of the cot.
Bye for now
The Shaper Mouse.
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Letter from the Romney Hut 31st May 05
Thursday the 26th of May will be a red letter day in the history of Bo’ness, the tumult has yet to die down, The celebrations were of great magnitude and there was a lot of folk there, extra police were drafted in from all over Scotland to control the seething crowds. The Shaper Mouse (that’s me) arrived back on the 1620 from Queen Street last week and it has taken us (that’s Horace and Me or should I say Horace and I ) since then nearly a week to travel to Bo’ness from Lithgay, How were we to know that they were opening the new Lidol, lidul lidl or whatever it is called, shop on the day of our arrival. So the crowds wee not for us then, OK we get the message. Horace and I are in the Huff so stuff you lot, at least Horace and I wallowed in our Fame, at least it is better than wallowing in the human by-product that makes the grass grow greener in Grangepans.
We would not be here today if we had not received a farewell message from the great Central, which said the next time your passing just pass. They seemed to become upset at the amount of food Horace eats.
Excited crowds greet the return of the intrepid duo (Alex Livingstone)
I see there have been a few changes since I have been occupied elswhere, like the LMS sleeper is no longer occupied, a pity because it was a great source of grub. The main change is that somebody has opened the door to the Slog container, our private residence at the back of the Romney Hut. Furthermore they have entered the place and tidied it up, repaired the door, all without my permission or even making contact with the authenticity committee. While this structure may appear to the uneducated as an old container, it is in fact a disguised Roman brothel, used by them when they became pissed off building Anotnine’s Wall. Just think that that container, at one time, was the Northern Frontier of the Roman Empire and Bo’ness, a special interest holiday resort, not much has changed.
Heard that Donald Macleish is designing a sail driven trolley for use on civil days when there are no drivers for the duty diesel. He is confining his sail configuration to Mains and Mizzen Main and dispensing with the need for T’Gallant Royals, because of height gauge limitations at Snab Hill Bridge, but may consider a Jimmy Green under the Bow Sprit. This reminds of a tale about the apprentices at Kinneil Colliery, who built a rail mounted Trolley Yacht. The quest for speed was such, that in quiet times they would push their yacht further up the hill towards Birkhill, then run down the gradient and with sails assisting, to see how far they could travel towards old Bo’ness Station. As usual things got out of hand and due to design faliures in the braking system, they failed to stop before the concrete bridge ( which still stands today). At the moment of Impact of the mast with the bridge, a gentleman was walking his dog across the bridge. The gentleman found himself suddenly engulfed in canvas and ropes as the upper part of the mast parted company with the trolley. The dog was never heard of again. (That's a tall tail! or perhaps the journey was cur-tailed! Ed)
Words of wisdom from Mr Leggat, JAL to those who really don’t know him. Things is dubious because of the dubiety due to the dubishiousness put forward dubitatively, about dubitation.
Snatched from the smoke wafting out of the running shed, “wha lit up that biler afore there wiz a fire in it."
The Shaper Mouse
May 17th 2005
While we wait patiently for news of the Shaper Mouse, we tend to reflect what life has been like on the railway without him and his pal Horace. There has been no North American Indian activity in deepest Nether Kinneil, no attempted ambushes at the Crawyetts Bridge and no illegal Fox Hunting in the Romney Hut. Even Lieutenant Lumsden has confined himself to Fort Romney.
The rescue is under way, so I am assured by Mr Furlong, I have counted all the aircraft out and I have counted them all back, and they all seem to be going round in circles and landing again at Turnhouse. Whether they are meant to or not, I have been unable to find out. Maybe this is just a show of strength, a bit of subterfuge.
Dew, yes it is wet every morning, to the the necessary economies being made in the Rodent Defence Organisation, Mr Furlong’s team tried to go by Ryan Air to the BIG TOWER but because they were wearing army surplus “you can’t see me suits” complete with balaclavas and boot polish on their faces Prestwick Airport security were not amused, neither were Ayr Polis. At the time of going to press, they are due to appear before Ayr Magistrates on Monday morning.
That crowd at Prestwick was a decoy to fool FETA; for those of you that have forgotten, it stands for Fearless Eaters of Tiny Adventurers: The real rescue brigade is out in theatre, no they are not going to a show, it is a fancy name for war participants to emphasise that they are awfy near where the fightin is. Our team are going “Up Theatre” that means that they are goin awfy awfy near where the fightin is. They have approached the The Great Big Tower which is of a wobbly construction, made by building one EDAM (European Directive About Monuments.) on Top of each other. The Tower is fully camouflaged so that one could say “ye canny miss it.” Lo and behold once our lead Stilton group scaled the EDAMs of the Tower, they discovered that the place is full of mice, called monumental devourers eating their way out of the Tower, but alas no sign of our intrepid travellers.
We are now going live to a telephone call we are receiving now ----
“Hello this is the Shaper Mouse report wheeee---------------------------thump ing
from a Virg wheee----------------thump in, a Virgin Pen Whee------------------------thump dolino,
these linoleu--wheee------------------------------------thump m floor coverings do little for the adhesion when these Pendolinos take the reverse curves at 130 mph.”
Horace and I have been living it up on the Great Central for the last month. We jumped ship in Felixtowe, because Horace was sea sick and we had not even left the Quay.
In Bo’ness we have been receiving ransome notes, we thought you had been taken hostage by FETA and The Stilton Group have been sent out to rescue you.
Before we left the ship we struck up a friendship with the leading mouse on board, who said he was a representative of BRIE (Brirish Rodents Institute of Ensnarement). We told him we had no interest in being in an institution and to go forth and multiply, but we did not think he would try and do it. Yes it is news to us he was actually an under cover agent for FETA.”
Are you on your way back to Bo’ness.?
"Yes of course, we are famous now!”
After detailing the goings on over the last couple of months the Shaper Mouse has decided to go with the legend, because it makes a better story than the truth. We now await his triumphal return to Bo’ness.
SMART
Shaper Mouse Action Recovery Team.
May 1st 2005
We have a problem, apart from the Smart Team who are a resident problem, in that we have used a code that nobody knows in our attempt to contact the Stilton Group. This is what happens when one is confident that security is sufficiently poor, in that somebody would know the secret code that nobody knows, when in fact nobody does know. Everybody thinks that somebody knows when nobody knows what anybody could have known and only nobody knows. So we picked up the phone and gied him a ring. Lo and behold we’re in business and the Stilton Team are going out the far lands, whenever they can find a decent Port and rescue the Shaper Mouse.
SMART
Shaper Mouse Action Recovery Team.
From our guest correspondent.
Since the Shaper Mouse’s unscheduled departure, I Ferrous P.Incher have been asked to step in and keep you all informed of what is happening in and around the Romney Hut. I must say that I am a bit miffed that my splendid idea of the Ceremony of the lost Keys, has not been met with a groundswell of enthusiasm. Messrs Forsyth, Knight, King, Simpson and Thornton’s input, when asked about their possible participation, would not usefully add to this column.
Other railways have rules, laws, codes of behaviour, but the regular and occasional users of the Mark Three Sleepers, now have a Protocol. A Protocol is an original draft of terms agreed in the terms of a treaty. I am assured that there are no draughts in the Mark Threes and they do not receive many treats. Protocol also means official observance of procedural etiquette, which is a bit more like the expectations of the upper crust inhabitants of these splendid vehicles. Three cheers for Protocol Jackson.
There is a call going out to “ lock up your Scarabs, Thomson’s about” this is I feel, a gross over reaction to a minor incident, where Brian was carrying out a BackYard Worthiness test of the Tractor unit of G Lumsdens Scarab, when the bonnet fell off. Due to design failures with the speed arresting equipment, Mr Thomson drove over the aforementioned bonnet. Suffice to say that the wretched bonnet now has more wrinkles than half a pound of tripe. The comments of George, Ken and Alex could be heard well beyond the boundaries of Bo’ness. There is no truth in the rumour that Brian Thomson has been recruited by the government, to run the job creation scheme.
Ferrous P.Incher.
April 19th 2005
Due to the time lapse and further threats from the Big Cheese and the Even Bigger Cheese it has been decided that since we are now Cheesed Off, we are goin fur tae dae sumthin. Chat amongst yourselves until we decide what action to take.
After great deliberation it has been decided that we have no option but to call in our Strategic Integrated Logistic, Terror Organisation, Nullifying unit, known to those in the know as the Stilton unit. We are privileged at the Bo’ness and Kinneil Railway, of having direct access to the leader of this unit. The identity of this person is known only to a chosen few, sadly we are not one of the few, so we do not know who we are talking about. Ever since the “ Eat before reading “ policy was imposed we have not been able to know what we are supposed to be doing or what we should be doing, but after it is done we will know what we were doing, except that we now have indigestion. Nonethless, through a secret code that nobody knows, we have managed to make contact with one who can only be identified by their Nom de Battle, “ Twenty Fourth of a League. Yes we know that they dealt in Half Leagues at the battle of Balaclava, but they received discounts for bulk buying, we are poor.
There now follows a confidential instruction to Twenty Fourth of a League, which to those who do not have the password will appear as Gobbledegook.
Now that that is settled we can only wait while the rescue system grinds into motion, something like a diesel shunter. We do hope that the system does not fail us like the class 20 or type 1 as the Diesel Lodge would have us believe.
On another matter, it appears that we are going to lose all the Main Line Diesels from the Bo’ness and Kinneil Railway due to the long awaited Electrification of the line, ( See SRPS Diesel Website). While it is sad that such an occurrence is going to cause such an exodus, the big shed will be very useful for storing the 83 Cable drums for the O/head wire and the 480 support poles, plus the 38 double support gantries for the loops. After installation of the system, we will be able to put a few hot fog machines in the shed out of the weather. Interesting that the 303 is going to be operational so quickly and there was us thinking it was being developed as a Rabbit Hutch.
Smart
Shaper Mouse Action Recovery Team.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just received ransom note.
Okay Okay Okay Okay once I have stopped saying okay I will say something else, Okay Okay Okay Okay, you will not pay. We are losing patience, she was nice girl but had to move on, but that’s none of your business. So we were going to send the Shaper Mouse and his wee pal back to Bo’ness, but we have had second thoughts, these come after the first ones. We have figured out that if you are not willing to pay, not to have the Shaper Mouse returned, then you must have a reason to want him back, so we are not going to let you have him back even if you do not pay to have him back, or pay not to have him back, this is known as Back sliding.
We are going to breed from the shaper mouse, assuming he and his friend does not eat us out of existence. Then we will release his prodigy which will be a Genetically Modified breed, that will have a voracious appetite for all things on the railway labelled for Binge Rodents. This modification will be done by our Environmental Destruction And Mayhem unit. These Great Mouses will eat your railway out of existence and take note we cannot be bought, but they will be given away when they open the new Lidl store in Bo’ness.
Even Bigger Cheese
April 15th 2005
Romney Steam Shed Notice
Due to a need to establish the appropriate atmosphere in the heritage component of locomotive restoration, in line with Mr J Burnies’s article on Inspiration in the blast pipe, it has been decided to introduce a simple ceremony. This event will take place in the Romney Hut G.S.W.R. Bothy every Monday at 6pm. prompt and will be called the Ceremony of The Lost Keys. Each member involved will be rostered to be present at the appointed hour, to take part in the ceremony in the search for Old Granda’s Keys. All participants except Old Granda and Hamish Stevenson, will be dressed in Bilersuits and be equipped with Long handled Shifters. The Long Handled Shifters will be used on the various commands to Shoulder Shifters, Present Shifters and Shifters at the Ready. Old Granda will on each occasion will ask each participant if he or she has seen his keys, a notional search of the Romney Hut and the Running shed will then take place and the ceremony will close with an enquiry from Hamish Stevenson to ask what we are looking for.
Long Handled Shifters will be provided by Lieutenant Lumsden.
Anyone with an idea on how to stop B Thomson losing his keys, please keep it to themselves, as we need the cause for the ceremony.
Swindon Landyacht
Director of lost causes
April 1st 2005
We are not to be trifled with, but we have no objection to Semolina pudding, we have taken the two B.R.Ms Hostage. These two British Rail Mouses will be returned to you immediately unless you pay a ransome of great magnitude ( an awfy big wan.)
We are a branch of a section of a paramice splinter group and we are known as FETA Fearless Eaters of Tiny Adventurers. No we are not going to eat the Shaper Mouse and his pal, they are eating us out of existence. So pay up or we shall return them immediately.
Remember write carefully as we will read it only once.
If you want to ensure that ther is no more Shaper Mouse then you must pay two well seasoned whole Stiltons, with a well used crust with no idenitifiable bacteria present and a couple of cases of Port will go down well.
Remember FETA has global implications and major stores in most countries.
The big cheese.
From the
Romney Hut Tall
Tower
Easterish 2005
Hello everybody,
The rumour of my death has been grossly exaggerated, the dead member of the rodent family, found in the Romney Hut Pit was old Aunt Freda. She was a lovely old soul, very keen on Fox Hunting but inclined to let herself be carried away by her exuberance, especially when she had nothing else to ride on. There will now be a gap in the team of fox hunters the next time we hold such an affair in the Romney hut. That is over and above the gaps that are a feature of the Steam Garage, one day we hope to have wall to wall corrugated iron. Old Aunt Freda came from Duror in Argyll on the Caledonian Railway’s branch from Connel to Ballachulish. She left there after being sore affronted, when she was issued tickets for the Toll on the Connel Ferry Bridge, which described her as three pigs and a cow. The Caledonian Railway was notorious for having penny pinching economy drives, that meant they would not replenish tickets for mice. Having moved to Edinburgh she was the leading light in trying to prevent British Rail closing the Caley Station, sadly she failed miserably. Her other campaign was to stop Edinburgh Corporation, the city that regularly ran out of water, from building more water reservoirs in the nineteen sixties, on the grounds that they did not have enough water to fill the ones they already possessed. Once again she failed to change the politicians mind. She retired to West Lothian in disgust.
There is no truth in the rumour that nobody will lend Ol Granda their mobile phone, but he was last seen making a call on somebody else’s mobile with a long bit of string attached to it.
Horace and I were out with the civils during civils week and oh what a time we had, observing all from the long flatbed bolster wagon which was being pulled and pushed by funny looking contraption, called a road/rail vehicle. Must say young Davie MacLaren wields a good sleeper and is first class at whipping out base plate staples. Alex King is a dab hand at removing base plates, still stuck to sleepers by their staples. The rest of the squad were trained on how to use the aerosol yellow marker on the commended sleepers, by someone you would least expect to be a graffiti artist, so much for a misspent youth. I will not disclose her name to protect the guilty. Many a seasoned track worker like Lieutenant Lumsden and Roy knew, but had just forgotten how heavy bances and crowbars become towards the end of each day. Even the big fella from Campbeltown was a bit wabbit, as was the Secretary General. James and Lawrence are entitled to feel that a considerable amount has been achieved. Yes with more bodies and more days, more could have been achieved, as the gist of Jim Watson ‘s message last year: if there is not enough maintenance on track and infrastructure, nothing goes anywhere.
Lo and behold!! my friend Horace and I received a report, that these two road rail machines working on the railway were powered by Cats. We have a policy of No Cats on the railway, so there was nothing for it but to deal with the matter, with a view to ridding these machines of their cats. We set out early one morning to bell the cats and lay the necessary trap and see if could coax them into a situation that would mitigate their effectiveness, particularly in their appetite for mouses. First of all Horace dropped the bell as we were climbing on board one of the machines, what a bloody row it made, thus forcing us to quickly hide amongst the rails on the lorry next to the east end gate. We lay quiet surveying the situation, but never saw any cats, I believe we were victims of a wind up. Horace and I were reassessing the situation on what to do next, when the lorry was started up and off it went with us on it. To cut a very long story short, us and the rails we were unloaded at Felixtowe into a container, then loaded onto a ship and as I write we are passing a big rock at the west end of the Mediterranean. At least the weather HE L P .
This was how we received the last communication from the Shaper Mouse, a letter unsigned and incomplete. The editor is awfy wurried, in fact he is fair no weel, so he is, sure he is, in’t he no. It is believed that the letter was sent by another, masquerading as an agent provocateur and we will investigate the matter when we find out what that means.
Ed.
From our Whimsical Correspondent (Shaper's on Vacation) Marchish 2005
Notice to all members,
Due to the considerable increase in the price of scrap steel, a number of organisations have now taken a profound interest in this material, which was previously left to the lower end of the commodity trading market. Not least among the newly interested institutions is of course the cleared banks. The Scottish components of the clearing banks are no exception and appear to be taking not only an interest, but are now spurred on into putting into action, a steel trading facility in selected branches. These branches will be signalled by a special logo of Crossed Rails outside and carriage will be provided via a duct to an internal weighing machine. The right of way appears to be to accept steel in minimum parcels of 3kg ( half a stone), but can be made up of several pieces if of the correct gauge. Larger quantities can be accepted but a maximum dimension 0.5 by 0.3 by 0.2 metres has been imposed. ( No minimum restrictions apply to Imperial measurements) The rate per 3kg parcel will be decided by a conference of the Chairs of each eligible institution who is permitted to carry out Direct Commodity Trading ( D.C.T. ); as per current banking acts. The trading climate will dictate the bulk exchange rate, which will be decided by key chairs of the banking conference. This rate will be based on the assessment of each deposit on an volumetric standard of 1/2" (12mm) thick plate and will be referred to as the base plate rate. To prevent the Banks being “Screwed “ by unscrupulous vendors they are to place a levy on the quality of the rust on each component, to be called the oxidisation premium, this is to curtail steel laundering. The banks will subsequently trade the steel on to sleeper organisations, who will keep it and do nothing until the steel is rotten.
Once steel is traded from this source on the futures market, a futures index steel holdings pulled level and tensioned elasticity factor, will be published and referred to as the Fishplate Index.
A spokesperson for the banks did congratulate the railway for it’s excellent support of banks over the years.
Ferrous P. Incher.
Can this be correct? Your comments please! Ed
Letter from the Romney
Hut
Hello everybody,
As I write this the snow is piling up outside the Hut, making transits to and
from the Running Shed, the Station and the Civils Mess Van, all the more
difficult. My pal Horace, another mouse in the Romney Hut, tends not to wander
too far, he usually finds enough food under the bothy table, mind you a bit
fed up with selection. To improve his diet he set out on an expedition to the
Lodge of Diesels, found nothing, (far too tidy these people) and returned but
lost his way because somebody has moved the Mark One Sleeping coaches. Anyway,
we rescued him and brought him back suffering from Hyporthe/Hiphoter/, lets say
he wiz "awfy cold."
The snaw fell from the sky
And here all around, did lie
It was piled up very high.
It will turn tae slush, forbye.
Had a visit from a few intellectuals, maybe friends of Ron Hill, you know how he
delights in their company. They were wittering how they had been to Oxford and
others likewise about how they went to Cambridge. Somebody on the periphery of
the assembled group mentioned that he had been to both Oxford and Cambridge,
this raised a few questioning eyebrows, until he explained how wonderful these
away tickets are.
Outside in the snow I had cause to pause and then I had cause to pause again.
Two cause to pauses makes a total of Four Paws, that means a Cat or a
Fox. You will recall that I was organising a fox hunt in the Romney Hut.
Well it all went quite well and we had the fox cornered down at the bench
beside the lockers, when somebody put the lights out. The most of us fell into
the pit under No 7 austerity and the fox escaped out under the the big doors.
While all this was going on, David Thornton was cleaning up parts at the
Parraffin bath as the snow was blowing in through the imperfections on the
doors and landing on his head. Hence he was singing "Snowflakes keep falling
on my head" Never did imagine David in the role of the Sundance Kid.
I see that there is still bandit activity in deepest Nether Kinneil, to such
an extent that Big James Robertson and Daivd MacLaren are going down after
them, into the tunnel system the bad yins have built under the railway. ( see
Photies. in news page.) Lieutenant Lumsden is still of the opinion that it is
the weans of Big Chief Running Shed, Naecol and her brother Naesteem. Mind you
all this activity seems to get a remarkable amount of work done by the 571/2
group. Well Done.
The Shaper Mouse.
Feb 16th 05
Breaking news!
A dead mouse was found in the inspection pit in the Romney shed (suspected cause of death- laughter!). Not a relative of the rotund shaper mouse I hope. Found nearby a note with the following:-
Big Ronnie checks out our hire car at the Great Central. Ronnie disnay fancy they French motors ,says his spanners wouldnay fit they foreign cors.--------------------------------------------Brian Thomsons spanners would fit they motors!--------------------------------------------------------------------Wan big shifter and wan wee shifter!
Jan 28th 05
Letter from the Romney Hut
Nearly a month of 2005 gone already, my my how time flies, talking
about flying, heard another mouse from another place saying that they are going
to extend Turnhouse Airport ( Edinburgh), if they keep on extending it will
soon be at Blackness. Also noticed that approval has been given for the
extensions to Abbotsinch (Glasgow Airport). It is probably my small mind, but
if this policy continues the two airports will meet at Bo'ness what price the
diesel shed as the terminal building and the RCB for Air Cargo and the Romney
Hut as the Hangar? Yes I know it is a bit small, but it has the right shape.
Demolishers of Grangemouth Aerodrome, eat your heart out.
The rest of my family and I went on the Civil's Train one Monday a few weeks
ago, we had heard of rich pickings to be had in the mess room of the coach.
Oh what an adventure this turned out to be. Lindsay was driving and after a
delayed start due to loading equipment Etc, we made for the hills of Nether
Kinneil. Just after crossing Crawyetts Bridge having now entered Bandit
country, the line was blocked by a tree. Immediately Donald McLiesh, who was
riding shotgun, was on the track warning everybody that the ambush could take
place at any time. We all readied ourselves for the attack, determined to defend
the thousand pandrol clips to the last mouse. Concerned was raised that maybe
the bandits were after the base plates as well. Lawrence took charge in a
capable manner and armed several of the big lads with saws to chop up the
tree, while big Robertson went on a scouting mission. Tree was chopped up with
the appropriate huffing and puffing, Andrew did a pile of sawing and Alister
and Roy's weight eventually broke the back of the job. During this evolution
there arrived Lieutenant Lumsden, an emissary from Fort Romney on his
trusty steed, the original 4 X 4; who was of the opinion that this dastardly
deed was not the work of Bandits, but perpertrated by the Local Indians led by
big Chief Runningshed. The track cleared, James Roberson arrived back and
said that everybody was to get the finger out because we had hired a machine
and we were not doing the job intended. He was right, but dear me he has no
sense of occasion. The rest of the day was uneventful and a great deal of
useful work was accomplished.
Alarm alarm help ma boab there was reports of smoke coming from the Museum. I
do not normally go anywhere near the place because it is so tidy, but curiosity
killed the cat and I am in for anything that kills cats. I arrived to see old
Gran Da, Alister and George looking as pleased as punch having just managed to
start the Scarab. Ol Gran Da celebrated by putting his head and shoulders ( no
not shampoo), through the windscreen, an act recorded for posterity by Alex
Livingstone.
Down to more serious matters, there is evidence that there is a Fox in and
around the Romney Hut. I am organising a hunt, it will be legal because we will
not use dogs and all taking part will be on mouse back. The hunt will
assemble under the Bothy and we will run the beat round behind Ian's chocolate
dispensing machine and down towards the big Radial Arm Drilling Machine. We
will probably not catch it, but I am hoping like hell it will die laughing at
us.
Loads of Haggis around these days, I do not like it too spicey. This reminds me
of an incident many years ago, in the South Street Butchers shop in Bo'ness,
where the propietor posted a notice on his window "Our Haggis is noted".
Shortly after, one of the notable customers from up the top of the Toun entered
the shop and asked of the apprentice butcher, "why are your Haggis noted". "If
we didnae knoat them the guts would fa oot." was his reply.
Goodbye until the next letter.
The Shaper Mouse
Letter from the Romney
Hut
1st Jan 05
" It is the wind that blaws it through the
stairheid closet "
Dear Friends,
Although I am not an official member of the SRPS I have been resident in the
Romney Hut for many years, in fact my grandfather was there when it was built (
they never got it straight did they). Our family history extends well beyond
the Dock sidings era, in fact even before nationalisation of the coal and dock
industries. Therefore I consider myself to be the general owner of the entire
site and a fair bit of Borrowstouness to boot. It is because of the foregoing
that I felt it would be good to improve communication between you, the
volunteers of the SRPS and me, as the Recumbent Ruling Resident Rodent in
Romney, I know it is known as the Romney Hut, but it buggers up the
alliteration. When possible I will send a note of observations and precise
reports of happenings, as I see them, each month.
A few weeks ago somebody repaired the stove chimney in the Romney Hut then went
on to light the fire. Previously I knew when the fire was lit because through
the dense smoke you could see Ian Forsyth appear out of the corner like a
apparition. Now the bloody thing can be lit without me knowing it, so when I am
doing my rounds I often take a hop across the stove, did that one night, and I
have been licking my wee soles ever since.
The crowd out working on the track, you know the 571/2 group are doing a
remarkable job so remarkable that if you believed the heilander from
Campbeltown, you would think that they had done all the fishplates from Queen
Street to the Waverley. Big David is a dab hand at cleaning up the fishplate
bolts in the paraffin bath, I do wish that he would not spray it over the sides,
I was covered in paraffin. All it needed was a spark from Ashmole's welding to
land on me and this communication would not have occurred.
I now turn my attention to refectory matters. There is hardly enough food for a
Church version of my species on the Bothy floor. The purchase of pre-packed
tinned fish and fruit is to stop and crumbly cheese and flaky pastries are in.
I used to find a weeks rations under Ol Da's, sorry Ol Grandda's seat. A bit
more of Ron's Mince won't go amiss.
The Shaper Mouse.
I suspect that the well fed rotund wee beastie really burnt its feet after falling asleep in front of the fire! (Ed)
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