Book Review: Narrow Gauge Railways in Mid-Wales by JIC Boyd

 

Many years ago, young Phil borrowed this book, Narrow Gauge Railways in Mid-Wales, repeatedly from my local library. I've never actually read it, but that wasn't the point. Inside were plans. Lots of plans. For locomotives, carriages and wagons. 

At the time, I dreamed that I'd use these plans to make models. I didn't dream of just owning them, I was going to build them myself. 

Of course, I never did. On my garden line, the main feature was cost, or at least lack of it. I built very basic wagons that didn't look that much like those in the book. Probably the nearest I got was building a set of wagons from Saltford Models kits, and they aren't much like those on "proper" narrow-gauge railways.  

This didn't matter; those plans inspired me to have a go. I've always collected drawings and now have several boxfiles of the things. All dreams to be realised one day. 

Someone is doubtless wondering why if I love plans so much, they aren't a bigger feature in modern magazines.  The first, is simple. No mag can afford to pay what drawing a plan up should cost. Look at each of these. Measuring up a wagon and then creating a drawing is a couple of days work. A couple of days which should be paid at a skilled rate. There are over two weeks in the photo above. 

The other reason is a bit sadder - I might look at these and dream of building a model, most people look at them and dream of buying RTR. Nothing wrong with that, but the only person who needs a plan is the one sat in front of a computer full of CAD. I did once ask someone if he'd be out with the tin snips if we published a plan for a Duchess, "Oh yes", he said. I was not convinced. Nowadays, a plan would be pored over, but only so people could find errors, real or imaginary, and pronounce on them online. 

Anyway, back to the book. I've occasionally looked at copies, but the other day, one popped up on Instagram being sold by Oxfam. The price was good, as is the cause. A couple of days later it was in my hand. 

Perhaps I'll get around to reading it now! 

Smallspace haul

 

If I'm honest, Smallspace was a lot about resisting temptation this year.Even I have worked out I really don't need any more plastic kit right now. Not Space: 1999 Eagle & Hawk War Games Edition 1:72 Scale Model. Not V.I.N.cent from the Black Hole. Nor the Visible V8 kit I've wanted to build since seeing it in Model Maker magazine back in the 1980s. Although that one has been superseded by the VW Engine I built a few years ago, 

Of course, I managed to add to the stash a little. Some very cheap paints from ranges I'm not that familiar with. I like trying different materials, and when they are 50p to £1 a pot, it would be daft not to experiment. 

For the model boats in the future, a few 1:12 scale figures are handy. They look like characters from the TV series Dr Who, you say? Just a coincidence. 

And I've not really built a vinyl figure kit, but I remember reading about them in Model Mart magazine. For a fiver, I quite fancy having a go at a 1/6th scale Dr Jones senior. 

 

Smallspace 2026

Check me out! I am full qualified to dock a Soyuz spacecraft to the ISS!

OK, a few caveats. I docked it on a simulator provided by the British Interplanetary Society. I bounced off the first time, and the controls, and the level I was working at, only allowed me to line up on the target using up/down left/right forward and back thrusters. No yaw control, that's for more advanced pilots. Mind you, I did this after 2 minutes of tuition, and only bounced off once. And that wasn't catastrophic. Not bad then, and fascinating. 

Smallspace was it's usual friendly mix of modelmaking, original props and replicas, along with slightly more trade than normal. All this in a village hall. 

Obviously, the car park was home to some Daleks. 

There were some Dr Who lookalikes, although this is stretching the term a lot. The Second Doctor's wig was spectacularly unconvincing. Oddly, no Tom Baker, but we did get a Sylvester McCoy, a Doctor I thought badly served by the TV show. 

"There's no railways here.", said a chap from Milton Keynes model club, but we enjoyed a good chat with one of the exhibitors over the best sci-fi spacecraft (Eagle transporters obvs) and how the genre holds a mirror up to current affairs.  

Anyway, enough of this. Go and look at my photos over on Flickr.  

Saturday Film Club: Tin baths on the Isle of Man

A quick look at the Tin Bath racing that I saw on my visit, along with the skateboard racing I missed because Groudle was calling. 

Manx tat

 

Obviously, I bought some tat from the Isle of Man. This was limited because I already have so much Manx tat from previous visits, I always buy a couple of Groudle dayglo pencils for example, that I have to work harder to search out the junk. 

But a visit to Peel soon sorted me out. 

From the Bonded Warehouse, I bought a Summit Hotel plate. 8 inches in diameter, with real gold (yeah, right) edges, the picture shows the current Summit of Snaefell. The name "hotel" is due to there being a bar inside, otherwise it's just a nice cafe with rather good cake. 

The building shows dates from 1984, the previous stone finish with castellations version from 1902 having burnt down in 1982.  

The back of the plate tells me the maker is J.Jackson of Dewsbury. The telephone code is 0924, which dates it before 1995. 

The second bit of tat, came from a charity shop on Peel seafront. 11 inches across, it features crude paintings of "Kissak" around the Manx triskelion. 

On the back we have the letters Shd, and a sticker telling me that this isn't either microwave or dishwasher safe. I think this tells me it isn't particularly old. 

Worth the six quid? Well, I've never seen one before, and there is a picture of a locomotive on it, and the money is going to a good cause. It just seems so amateurish though. Surely a better illustration of a loco could be found? Or was this some design competition for kids? 

Feel free to tell me that either, or both, of these is incredibly rare and valuable! 

Painting Binface

 

This blog firmly supports Count Binface in the upcoming Clacton by-election. It is time for an elected representative with sensible policies such as bringing back Ceefax, and stamping down on the price of a 99 ice cream. 

Some time ago, before all this was fashionable, I bought a miniature Binface from Troublemaker Games, and with everything in the news, it was time to paint him up.  

Work started with a coat of black primer from a rattlecan. Then the silver parts were picked out using a steel colour MiG oilbrusher, a handy test of the new painting thing. 

Then the knee pads, gloves etc were painted with either Humbrol 66 or 67, close inspection of the costume shows two shades of grey. Once dry, the finishing touch was a wash of black Citadel ink.

At some point, I must have has a base for the figure, but it's gone missing. I'll make something up. 

Waterborne Wedneday: Tin Bath Racing

One of our Manx highlights was the Castletown Tin Bath races. It's one of those events that people on TV travel shows seem to find, and the rest of us never see. 

Taking place in the middle harbour, it's a big deal. OK the town isn't huge, but we found ourselves parking on a lane a good few minutes from the water. Not a problem, and when we arrived, it became obvious why. This is popular!

There are three main events. The first involves a rope strung across the water. Competitors take turns to ride along this, trying to drop into a giant rubber ring in the middle. 

Then there are more giant rings for the snake racing. Several are tied together in a line, and the competitors lie in them and backstroke their way along. Quite how the steering works is a mystery, but it's all good, splashy fun. 

Finally, the main event, which takes place in several heats during the afternoon - the tin bath races. 

These are real tin baths, some decorated, with a bit of wood across the back holding a couple of big plastic bottles or fuel cans for extra buoyancy. Competitors have to row from one end of the harbour, around a buoy, and back again. This looks fun, if you like close proximity to dark, wet and cold water, but it's also hard work.  Baths don't exactly sythe through the water!

Not all the competitors make it, and the local sub aqua club is on hand to pull people out of the drink, and just to be sure, the lifeboat is moored up with crews on board.  

We all loved it. I'm sure there is modelling potential here, but I'll be happy with a fun afternoon at the races and some nice beer. Mum would have been even happier if the lobster buttie stand hadn't sold out by the time we found it though!

Visit the official World Tin Batch Championships website. 

A few more photos on Flickr.  

Remembering the Little Chef

 

I loved visiting a Little Chef restaurant. 

An Olympic Breakfast was a thing of beauty, especially if you were heading back home after an exhibition. Obviously, this wasn't always prefect; it was in the car park of one of these establishments that someone broke into our van and stole my stockbox, toolbox and camera bag thirty years ago.  The story of dealing with the insurance claim formed the basis of my first ever paid for article though, so silver linings etc. 

For The Collector, my latest project is turning Hornby's 1990 "Roadside Restaurant" into my favourite eating establishment (OK, favourite while on the road. Nothing much beats the cafe as Sea Lion rocks). 

Presumably, for licensing reasons, the kit isn't branded with the LC logos, but that wasn't going to stop me, and I made up my own sheets to cover the awnings and brand the walls. 

If you prefer not to remember Little Chef, other businesses have taken over their premises on the A1.  

And if you can't find an original kit, the model is still available from Gaugemaster, now called the Fordhampton Happy Chef Roadside Diner  

Phil's commune?

 

Commune: A commune is a shared living group, a local government unit, or a deep mental connection.

There is a park full of office blocks near Stratford that has appeared on the market. Ryon Hill is known to me as a couple of my friends were based there for work. 

You can read the full details here. 

It's a nice place, with some 80s-style buildings, and I think it would be perfect for a commune.  

Not some hippy-dippy rubbish, or the sort of place where everyone falls under the spell of a svengali, and all end up being abused and killing themselves. 

No. I'm thinking of a community of people who like making things. Craftspeople. People like those who read this blog. People who celebrate creativity. 

My completely unfunded plan, is that the upper floors of the buildings would be converted to modest apartments. Personally, I reckon I need something about four times the size of a Premier Inn room for a bedroom, kitchen, living space, bathroom, and a small office.  Couples and families will need more space, but we can work on that. There's a lot of space on offer on the site. 

The exciting stuff is the downstairs. You only get to live in the commune if you are an active participant in a hands-on hobby or craft. Thus, I'd have space to put up some model railways and a separate studio for making things. 

Other crafts would enjoy the same facilities. I'm not sure if these should be shared, or private. Probably a mix of the two. The classic car restorers could have the parking area under one of the buildings for welding, grinding etc. For safety alone, it's probably sensible that they enjoy a share garage. Arguably, part of the area should be split off for model engineers - with space for up to a 2ft gauge track running around the site. 

We'll also have retail space for people to sell their wares, and buy others. Look out for a branch of something that looks like Beatties! That's alongside art supplies, wool, material and all other types of shop that people like us enjoy a rummage through. 

I'm assuming that most of the occupants will have other "proper" jobs, so a shared workspace (there is already the remains of a Costa) would be wise. That way, you can do your job during the day, and your passion at evenings and weekends (stop sniggering at back). I'd like to see a library and pub too. Just because I like those sorts of places. Maybe a museum as well, with restoration people on-site. I could happily donate a load of exhibits for the railways and Isle of Man galleries. 

I'm thinking as well as railway modellers, engineers, classic car restorers, the place would be home to bakers, artists, gardeners, potters and pretty much any other practical hands-on creative activity. 

My dream is that all these enthusiasts will be lovely people, so peace and harmony will reign. We'll have regular exhibitions to appreciate each other's work, and share ideas. I'm sure the retail will attract custom from nearby Stratford-on-Avon and further afield. 

Some sort of governing board will be needed; I'm not proposing this as me in charge. I want more time for modelling anyway! We'll all be required to help out for a day a month around the site, keeping it tidy and assist the gardeners with the plant life. That serves to look after the grounds, and ensure everyone feels ownership of the place. 

You're probably thinking this is one of my madder posts, but I dream of something like this. A place where people can enjoy their hobbies and share that enthusiasm with others. Am I the only one? 

If I'm not, and you have a large amount of money burning a hole in your pocket (or you are phenomenally rich and want to offload what is loose change to you), then please get in touch! 

Steam on the Arrow Valley

 

One of the fun things with the garden railway scene, is being invited to run on other people's lines. I recently had the opportunity to try the Arrow Valley Railway, a 45mm line about half an hour from me. 

My railmotor was first out. Being electric, it's perfect for this sort of thing, and allowed me to the explore the track, which you have to move around to see properly. As you can see, Little Phil and Brian were waiting at the station. 

It's bad form not to bring a steam loco, or at least I think it is, so my Lady Anne came out after its recent run at the club. It promptly embarrassed me by refusing to light up. However, removing the gas jet isn't too hard, even for someone as clumsy as me, and within ten minutes I'd fixed the problem. And yes, I am stupidly proud of myself for doing this. 

On the track, the loco was sprightly. Regulator half open was sufficient for running, even a little fast at times!

 

Saturday Film Club: 10 Mesmerising Manufacturing Films from the 1960s

I've always enjoyed films showing how things are made, and so British Pathe have done me proud here. And there are two more to watch too!

Gordon Ellis railway cartoons

My "big" Manx purchase came from the antique centre in Peel, a pair of railway cartoons. They appear to be originals; even studying them under a loupe, this seems to be the case. Mind you, I'd not have been ripped off if they were prints for the price I paid. 

The first is a Manx Northern Railway train. Very much in the style of Rowland Emett, but the signature says Gordon Ellis, 1948. 

So, who is Gordon Ellis? 

According to Wikipedia, Ian Gordon Ellis (17 July 1920 – 3 December 1978) was a British artist who specialised in maritime painting.

The trouble is, I can't find any of his work online that looks like my cartoons. There are some other very nice paintings though. But I have no wall space...

The second cartoon is this one. 

Now, the signature on this is interesting. 

Interesting, because it looks the same as the signature on this painting. 

So, have I bought work from a known artist? 

It doesn't matter; I love both cartoons for their content, but I would like to know more of their history. Any art experts out there? 

(Note, you should be able to click on the images for bigger versions) 

Back to Groudle

With a bit of planning, our trip ran from Friday to the following Thursday. This meant I could enjoy a Wednesday evening visit to Groudle - handy!

Pride of the line, Sea Lion was running, and the early trains were well loaded.  

Of course, there was cake. 

A delicious gluten-free slice baked by Chris the Guard's wife. While I don't need to avoid the glutens, I like to try the stuff and send photos to my sister. However, no need this time, as I was packed off with an extra slice to take back to her, and she enjoyed it as much as I did!

While visiting the line both times, I also caught up with some people I've been chasing for Garden Rail articles. They were chastised for going on holiday, when they could be writing, but having done this, I'm wondering if I can put the whole thing down as a work expense...

Warehouse Wednesday: Gansey Mill

Each morning, before everyone else got up, I'd take a walk around the bay to enjoy the sounds and smells of the sea. This took me past a tall stone building. 

Back home, I've done a little research, using this excellent guide (PDF download).  In here, I find that "The present Mill was erected in 1844 by Holmes the Banker, and the building was used as a "Town Corn Mill." The building was originally used as a thrashing mill and later used as a Woollen Mill. It has now been converted into apartments."

If you fancy one of those apartments buy the way, it will cost you £167k for a two-bed with excellent views. 

At some point, the mill housed Gansey Pottery, with a wooden extension on the front. There was a waterwheel, but this disappeared in the 1930s. 

You can see this building on Google Streetview. 

Simple scenery modelling, cover it with cloud!

I said we were lucky with the weather, and this is true. Except for the day we ascended Snaefell. 

Knowing how fickle things can be 2037 feet up, we tried to pick a day when my sister might see the view. The trouble is, you don't really know. Although the webcam looked OK, by the time we made it up there, things were more reminiscent of my Dad and my first few visits, 33 years ago. 

Manannán's Cloak had descended, and there was no view. You can recreate this at home by glueing cotton wool on your glasses, and standing in front of the open 'fridge. 

Modellers could use this to their advantage by just sticking a big ball of cotton wool in a board, and playing some tram sounds. 

On the plus side, the cagoule I bought in 1993 is still working just as well as it ever did, even if it's not a bit snugger than it was back then.  

The souvenier I can't get home - yet.

Regular readers will know that some time ago, I bought a side tank, and cab back from Sea Lion. It's my favourite loco in the world, the price was right, and so I couldn't resist. For a few years, thanks to Mike Buttell, they lived in Port Erin Railway Museum, but when the curators decided they weren't wanted in there any more, I was faced with the problem of where they should live next. 

I managed to get the tank back a couple of years ago, but this left the cab back on the island.  

Since we were staying in a superb, and highly recommended, cottage in Port St Mary, a couple of minutes from the goods shed the back is living in, I had a plan to bring it back in the car. 

A set of roof bars was purchased, the idea being that I could strap it up there for the journey home. However, measuring Sea Lion, I worked out that we could actually get the thing in the back. OK, a bit of a squeeze, but the Berlingo is spacious if you shuffle the seats around. 

So, I arranged to collect the cab on the Tuesday morning. 

At this point, we hit a snag. In my mind, I'd bought the cab back. A flat sheet of steel. What I'd forgotten is that this came with the sides and bunker.  

The guys helping me gamely tried to squeeze the thing in the back of the car, but it wasn't going to work.It might have gone in at an angle, but not quite. We'd probably have had to leave my sister there, although she would have been happy to stop with the donkeys at the Rest Home for Old Horses!

As for the roof bars, well they are rated at 75kg, and this cab back is f*cking heavy. Even if we could have got it on top, there's no way I fancied a trip down the M6 with the thing up there!

So, back it went into the shed, and I need to formulate a new plan. A hired van would work; I just need to take a deep breath when booking on the Steam Packet website, where they seem to expect you to buy them a new ferry for transporting you over the water!

Sunday morning at Groudle Glen

A couple of weeks ago, my Mum, sister and myself, spent a week on the Isle of Man. 

We wanted to show my sister some of the places that meant a lot to my Dad, and obviously, one of those was Groudle Glen. 

We struck luck with the weather the whole week, especially for the glen, as the overnight rain saw everything looking very green in the daytime sunshine. 

Reaching Sea Lion rocks, I took the opportunity to stand on the same bank Dad and I stood on back in 1993. Then, there wasn't much to see, other than the track. When the train departed, we wondered quite why it seemed like a good idea to hang around in the drizzle, in the middle of nowhere. It did though, and we revisited the spot many times afterwards!

Fortunately, there is now an excellent cafe. Sister was delighted to find gluten-free cherry cake on sale, which both she and my Mum scoffed. In memory of Dad of course... 

I opted for a vanilla slice, but Dad hated custard, so Little Brian wouldn't look at it!

Saturday Film Club: Sand Drags - Dome Valley Raceway

You gotta love the internet for bringing sports you've never heard of, to your attention. Here we have, drag racing - on sand! Messy madness!

My first coach

 

I've never been fussed by model coaching stock. Wagons are much more interesting, and far more interesting to build too. The paintwork is easier for a start. 

Recently, I found my first coach model. It's a Lima MK1 in my favourite blood'n'custard livery. 

The thing has been through the wars. Almost certainly operated on our very first layouts, even before The Cawood Wistow and Selby line. 

At some point, the couplings have been removed, but not replaced by Sprat & Winkles. I seem to remember this is the point where I discovered that you had to fit S&W's to the body, but this limited the curve radius the model would than traverse 

Window glazing is from Wills vac-formed units, and looks pretty good to my eye, even today, 

I'm not sure what to do with the model next. I'm not going to throw it away, too much history there! Maybe a quick tidy up, but then I find myself wondering about those roof vents. Replacing them would make a difference, and the roof is cracked anyway. 

What about the handrails? Fiddly to do, and the paint will need touching up. Can I match the shade? 

 

Carrying model road vehicles

 

I've never been a fan of fixing road vehicles to model railways. For a start, it allows me to use the models on more than one layout. 

Then, it means that the models will "move around" between shows, so the display looks slightly different each time. I've usually got too many models anyway, so the changes can be rung. We don't want visitors to see the same thing each time. 

Finally, I quite like the process of placing each model. It's a sort of ritual, an indication that the set-up is nearly done. Quite therapeutic. At least if we aren't in a rush because of traffic delays...

But the models need a home off the layout, and for the Melbridge Dock set, this is a figure carrying case from Games Workshop. Sadly, this is so old, I can't find it for sale, but there are lots of options on eBay, for a lot less money than buying through the shops.

The foam holds each model securely, but without damage, even after a lot of miles. OK, the catch that holds it shut has broken, but a luggage strap (useful things these) does that job perfectly well. 

My Dad used to have the job of putting vehicles back in the box at the end of a show. He always managed to pack them in really neatly, a trait I didn't appear to inherit!