Steven Karlson of Cold Spring Shops visits the far West of England, taking in the St Ives Branch, Penzance, and the wonderfully intact Great Western junction station of St Erth, complete with a full set of semaphore signalling
Every so often, there’s a twanging of the control wires and a semaphore clatters to “clear” (which is pulling “off” there and “on” here.)
Travelling west of the Tamar is like travelling back in time; there’s an awful lot of Victorian infrastructure still in use. When I first visited the area more than 20 years ago I never expected the semaphores at St Erth, Par, Lostwithiel and Liskeard would still be in use in 2007, with no plans for modernisation.
I suspect one reason for this is that modern colour light signalling systems have a finite life expectancy before insulation starts to decay, and the whole lot needs replacement. Meanwhile the life of Victorian mechanical interlocking systems can be extended indefinitely by replacing worn parts on a piecemeal basis. The resignalling budget year after year has to be spent on replacing life-expired colour light systems dating from the fifties and sixties. There’s never enough to replace the surviving pockets of semaphores.
I’m not so sure of Steven’s description of the 57/6 at the head of the Penzance sleeper.
Down the line at Penzance, the evening sleeper train to London Paddington has been placed at the station. Although that diesel has a very British number 57 605 and name Totnes Castle, inside it is an Electro-Motive diesel. It sounds like a train ought to.
The antiseptic whine of the EMD power unit can’t replace the throaty roar of the original Sulzer engines which gave 40 years of service in these locomotives, especially when it’s deadened by the massive silencer demanded in these more environmentally-friendly times.
It wasn’t long ago since you were able to see four locomotive-hauled trains occupying all four platform roads at Penzance at one point in the morning; the 08:20 Paddington and 08:48 Manchester, the inbound sleeper from Paddington, and the Travelling Post Office, which departed empty to St.Blazey for servicing.
Thanks for the link.
It’s a shame I don’t have the technology to post a video-with-sound of the “antiseptic whine” of a quartet of SD70MACs making short work of Creston Hill with 100 doublestacks on.
Yes, but how would they have compared with four 1960s ALCOs?
Compared with our classic 60s traction, the new-fangled EMD stuff just goes ‘ying ying ying ying”.
The ALCO sound card gives the impression of a bucket of bolts being thrown into a propellor. The new EMD diesels, with silencers and turbochargers and other such, do not have quite the authority of a normally aspirated 567 or the Fairbanks-Morse OP, but they are what real trains sound like. (The newest General Electrics, early examples of which are running about in Estonia, have a bit too much tractor slobber …)
But trains ought to go “chuff chuff”!
Ok, steam had to be replaced by diesels and electrics simply becasue you can start up modern traction when you need it rather than spend hours getting the boiler up to working temperature. Once can’t argue with the simple economics of the case.
How anyone can argue over which box on wheels sounds better is beyond me. They are all loud, smelly and generally un-romatic.
Oh come on.
Do you really get nothing from the deep roar of 3300 hp of twin Napier Deltics, or an English Electric 16CSVT of a class 50 attacking the 1:60 out of Par from a standing start with 13 coaches?
I suppose the Deltic was probably the most handsome of the diesels, but in terms of the sound no, they all come third to the hum of an electric pulling away and steam wins.
I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about this. I still think there’s nothing quite like being in the front coach behind a class 37 on that six mile grade out of Weymouth.