bufferstop

Hi Leslie No, I think what I'm talking about, came from an earlier IRRS Journal, it always stuck in my head, especially about the half day on the Saturday. Needless to say, I can't find the reference. I could be totally wrong. But, anyway, you're going to like, hopefully, what's going to emerge from the chrysalis,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

The beet wagons, in the 40's in Inchicore were being created and finished at 12 a day, and 6 on a Saturday, because it was a half day. Ended up at nearly 1200 in total, a fixture in nearly every station down through the decades. So universal, that they nearly fell through the cracks, like the one or two H vans or the absolute shameful lack of preservation of a cattle wagon. The most humble of wagons, but you cannot tell the history of Irish Railways without it. Well, we can't revisit the past, but maybe we can hold on to what's left.

Lovely model, Noel, would be interesting to compare it with an original beet wagon fully painted. "Ah, but such a thing no longer exists" Wait, what's that now.........

In fairness, the top one isn't even advertised as a railway item.........

Getting ridiculous now.... https://www.easyliveauction.com/catalogue/lot/417a52ac8ecd384480a5a1bb6a17771e/0af8d24542e81eb9357e7ef448a6646f/another-super-great-weekly-timed-auction-this-week-with-lot-166/ Two examples of this "wagon plate" have appeared in auctions in the last fortnight. https://www.easyliveauction.com/catalogue/lot/1fb5e223cb02cc14453f223ed796efc4/0af8d24542e81eb9357e7ef448a6646f/another-super-great-weekly-timed-auction-this-week-with-lot-308/

Many thanks to all of you for your condolences for Mam. I really appreciate your kindness. This post has nothing to do with railways but for the weekend that's in it... Back around 1989, I was working in a pub called the Greyhound down near the Oval in South London. Ran by a legend called Eddie Moran from Wicklow. Anyway we had a great clientele, huge mixture of people, that all got on. One of them was a Dub, I can't remember his name, we'll call him Jimmy, but he was about retirement age, never lost his 'Ah Jaysus Dub accent' He had worked in the Royal Horseguards for decades looking after the Queen's coaches and carriages. I said to him one night, any chance of a look around. "When are you off" "Tuesday" "Be at the gate at 2, I"ll be coming back from the lunch" I was there at 2, Jimmy marched in, I went after him, security came out, "Ah Jaysus, no he"s with me* In we went, complete tour of the place, Jimmy at one stage was showing one of the carriages used for Epsom or Goodwood "We put an extra step onto this because we're afraid she'd slip, she turned around and snapped at me "I"m not that bloody old"" Anyway we came to this shed, and inside was the State Coach used for opening Parliament and Coronations and the like. Jimmy was nearly whispering at this stage. I looked at it and I reached out and opened the door, and this is one of the greatest regrets of my life, I didn't hop up into it and do a royal wave. Jimmy would have either fainted or killed me but it would have been too late! So next time you see Charlie riding along in the State Coach, think of how close an Irish arse was to that cushion.....

That's correct, the hotel is being used exclusively to host Ukranians. Very nice people btw. The bar is open during the day to cater for the bus tourists. They have a food truck and bar outside the hotel which seems very popular. Maam is really the crossroads of Connemara. If the railway offering is correct, it will do very very well.

I buried Mam last week. I held her hand as she breathed her last, looking out of a window, that has seen trains pass by for over 150 years. And Mam fought so hard for the rights of gatekeepers. They were treated as the absolute lowest grade by the company. They were officially employed 24/7, no days off. They had to pay for the luxury of a bathroom or a water supply or septic tank. They ran to the shops in between trains In most gates, there wasn't even semaphore signals. Mam was one of the organisers getting the union involved. She went up and down the line along with others, persuading each gatehouse to stick together. And they did. And they got what they were entitled to. Actual days off and relief at night. The working time act came in 97, and it solidified everything.. There's not many gatekeepers left anymore, everything is remote now. But those that are left are in better conditions You fought and you won, Mam. It won't be the same without you. Rest easy now, with Dad.

Amazing what turns up at auctions. https://www.easyliveauction.com/catalogue/lot/dd379d341a8dae9cdf0cb55ef4da5071/0af8d24542e81eb9357e7ef448a6646f/contents-of-broadway-bar-greenore-clarkes-bar-carl-lot-271/ https://www.easyliveauction.com/catalogue/lot/3a2c231da208a96f288e6d924ae2b09a/0af8d24542e81eb9357e7ef448a6646f/contents-of-broadway-bar-greenore-clarkes-bar-carl-lot-237/ I'm not sure what you could do with them though, maybe the ultimate entrance to a mancave................

Back in the day, my Dad was a mighty man for growing vegetables. He grew them along the track. About 4 to 6 foot from the rail. Beds of spuds, carrots, onions, gooseberries, strawberries, you name it, he grew it. His only worry every year was the weed sprayer, but as long as he knew that the regular driver was driving it, he'd relax, the man knew every garden on the network, an absolute genius. I can't remember his name, but he was a legend. I was working in the garden one day with Dad, I was about ten or eleven, even then I was wondering how the hell I was going to remember how to do the beds, and grow vegetables when I grew up. 028 sailed in light, it stopped and the crew had the craic with Dad, and toddled off, we resumed digging, about 20 minutes later, 028 reappeared. The crew were looking for a key for the next level crossing. It was locked against the railway, because they weren't expecting an LE, and had probably gone into town, and there was rudimentary communication in any case. There were a few fucks exclaimed and a key exchanged, and off they went again. I never saw 028 in service again, but she's always lodged in my mind. Today, I look at where Dad grew vegetables along the track, and there's trees growing in the same place, and I shake my head in admiration and disbelief. His generation were truly a rare breed.

Uno Mas

Dunk, dunk, dunk. Wagon pulled for wheel set replacement

I can neither model nor take good photos. Anyway....

Patience, young Grasshopper, track must be laid first.............

I'm definitely no PW expert, I've been looking at this for ages and still can't figure it out. Is the inside section meant to be the cross section of a fishplate, but why the curvature ,and what are the other offshoots relating to? https://www.easyliveauction.com/catalogue/lot/0b8b5b346ee9794d287f2f2b15e2f283/0af8d24542e81eb9357e7ef448a6646f/general-railwayana-online-sale-650-lots-all-small-p-lot-407/

For Northern aficionados , there's a couple of wagon plates coming up for auction on 29th in Bray. https://www.easyliveauction.com/catalogue/lot/81e38dffe250d76ec4dcface631bf885/0af8d24542e81eb9357e7ef448a6646f/the-collectors-cabinet-lot-524/ https://www.easyliveauction.com/catalogue/lot/40a92c245757391a9fb075ce5af8a50d/0af8d24542e81eb9357e7ef448a6646f/the-collectors-cabinet-lot-522/

30 year old rule, Murph, state records get revealed before railway (redacted) ones....

That is a stunning photograph. (Imagine if it was in colour!)

Back in a previous life, I used to discharge oil cars and refuel 071's and 201's. I'm not joking when I say the discharge process was complicated. It all involved the correct turning of valves in a sequence that wasn't straightforward. There was also a big wrench involved. I got one practical demonstration on it, with a warning to write it all down. The wisest advice ever, and that became a very valued piece of paper. So, that was it, I was trained, and the next oil car that came down was my responsibility. One of the first thing to do was climb up and partially jam open the lid and let the air in. Than start to hook up the hose. open the valves in the correct order, and then and only then, open the main valve on the oil car. If you hadn't the line set up and the diesel started flowing, it wasn't going to be pretty... Anyway, tank replenished, you could refuel the locos. The 071's had a basic nozzle like in a forecourt. It had a cut off like a car as far as I remember, but you couldn't leave it unattended. The 201's had a different bespoke system. They had a hose that locked onto the fuel tank, you locked it on, turned on the pump and it fed away until it hit the cut off point automatically. Now, normally, I never had to put more than 1000-1500 litres into one, before they cut off, as they had been already fuelled In Inchicore that morning, an odd time , maybe around 2000l. I'd usually hop up into the loco, have the craic with the driver, he was waiting to drop it up to the shed, there was a fuel gauge up between the windows. It might take 5-10 minutes. One night we were watching it go up and up, so much so that I thought it was misreading and went down to shut it off.. I don't know whether the limiter was broke, but there was 3300 litres pumped into it. Now I know the tank capacity was nominally 4,500l, but it was limited well below that. It must have waddled out the next morning. 3300 litres is over 3.5 ton of fuel....... Then it went over to being serviced by road, and another bit of the old railway evaporated.

I remembered recently, a most unusual incident. About 25 years ago, I was up in the National Museum, doing a bit of non railway research with a colleague, who was an archaeologist. We were looking at a very localised area, and seeking whether any finds from the area had been submitted to the Museum. At the time, nothing had been digitised, and all the records were still catalogued in paper files. So we were given free reign for the whole catalogue. I strayed a bit from the brief. There were some quite incredible stories between people that had found very valuable artefacts and their interaction with the museum I found my granddad's submission to the museum, which he found whilst he was digging turf (it's railway related but not related to this story). Anyway, by complete accident, I came across quite an unique file. Back around 1965-66, a milesman doing his length, between Balla and Claremorris, in Brize,(on Balla bank) spotted a artefact on the side of the line. It turned out to be a pewter jug. Now , luckily enough, he was fascinated enough, that he didn't throw it into the bushes, but he put it in his bag and brought it back to base. They were intrigued enough to send it off to the National Museum where they identified it as a medieval jug from around c.14th century. And it's still in the reserve collection today. So, how did it end up on the side of the track? Well the only logical explanation, that I can advocate, is that it was part of the quarrying operation in Lecarrow, survived the quarrying process, landed in a ballast wagon with about 10 tons of stone, survived the unloading and ended up on the side of the track where a man with sharp eyes spotted him. As an aside, my colleague knew the person in charge of the vaults, so we got down there and we got a look at the jug. It wasn't exactly the Ardagh Chalice, but still, it had an amazing story. I ended up with free reign of the place whilst they were chatting. I remember opening one particular cupboard, and it was full of bog butter, over 2000 years old. (I had seen, whilst a kid, a newspaper report, of some men finding some in the bog and spreading some on soda bread and eating) To this day, I regret not sticking my finger in and having a taste....

That second picture is surely in the Dardenelles siding in the mid 90's. . There was the remains of a six wheel brake there as well? Hgricer will reveal all, I'm sure! I'm pretty sure they're was a similiar tank in the loading banks, around 601 in Inchicore, around the same time. I must try and find those photos.

Back in the day, when I needed a haircut as a child, you'd think it was a simple job of driving into town and going to the barbers. Eh, no. It entailed going up on the evening passenger from Westport with my dad driving, getting off the loco in Athlone Midland, walking across the bridge, ( whilst the train subsequently passed you, -no high viz here-) down the bank, into a housing estate to the home of the Garavans. Paddy worked in the job, Maureen was born in our home house, and the daughter, Geraldine, was a teenage hairdreser. Haircut done, we sat around the house, loads of tea, treated like royalty.The finest of people. And eventually, we headed back to the station to take the Night Mail home. Almost invariably an A class. I can still feel the oil and grease, the trobbing of the engine and the half lighting on the loco even today. There was one night when I was sitting on the seat, when Dinny Minogue arrived up. I think he was a Loco Inspector from Ballina. He didn't blink a eye at a 10 year old sitting on a footplate after 1am. He insisted that I sit back down on the seat, and stood for the whole journey, chatting to my dad. A proper railwayman. My dad had great time for him. ( Now that I think of it, I don't know what he was doing on a night mail and can't remember how he was getting to Ballina, from Claremorris, but that was the railway then, a 24 hour job)

It's the time of year for remembering those that have gone before, so here goes.... I grew up in a railway house, my bed was and still is about 8 foot from the nearest rail. It was a former station and gate crossing. That meant milesmen! Our house straddled two lengths , which totalled about 6 miles each. Milesmen were a special breed, they were out in all weathers, their only protection were heavy yellow oilskins, which wasnt exactly Goretex. So, they took refuge in every gatehouse, whether sun or hail. The kettle would be on and the craic would start. Remember, none of the gate houses had public phones then, just the railway phones which connected both the adjacent cabins and gatehouses in between. I grew up with them coming into the house, with a quick knock on the door, like members of the family. Depending on which way they were going, you could depend on them like the clock. Of course, that led to me heading out with the "mobile" gang when there was a bit of relaying going on. I well remember them jacking up sleepers and panels, and getting me to stick my hand under to unscrew the tang from the bolts. I was about 7 or 8 at the time. I must have driven them demented in hindsight!! They were always full of great stories, whether railways or otherwise, and you'd always be listening to the gossip. One of the really great milesmen, was Bill Gannon, a beautiful ballroom dancer. He used to regale us with stories about Paddy Gorman. Paddy was very reclusive, living in a former gate cottage that covered a black gates into a bog. Anyway, Bill's unofficial duties included calling into Paddy every day, doing a few messages for him and shaving him twice a week. I'm not sure did he ever see anyone else during the week. When Paddy died, the railway wasted no time in levelling the house, and now if you didn't know, you would have no idea it ever existed. Rest in Peace, Bill, a gentleman. And, then there was Paddy McAndrew. I dont know what age was Paddy. Maybe in his 40's. he was a wiry man, with sallow skin, burnt with the seasons, and long sideburns. I was only a small child at the time, maybe 5 or 6. Paddy had inordinate patience with me. he used to draw faces on my hardboiled eggs. And used to bring me out looking for mushrooms in the adjoining fields. He was such a gentle man. My parents loved him and I loved him. I was way too young to understand the concepts of depression or loneliness, but Paddy must have been consumed by them. He was living on his own in a rundown bedsit. I'm not really sure whether he had any family. One morning, he was coming out on his length, when he heard the morning goods coming, and he laid his head on the rail. It's been decades since, and I'm getting old. But as long as I draw breath, Paddy, I'll remember your kindness to a small boy. May God be as gentle to you as you were to me.

Fantastic. I presume the house extension is starting after Christmas

That is one of the most definitive answers that I've ever heard to a question about Irish railways. Thanks for even taking the trouble to write it. Keep it lit!