The West Winford Incident (9 page)

Sue, alone again, stared at the phone. Following the excitement of the previous week she was feeling her isolation more keenly. She had spent part of the morning sketching out another family tree diagram with her newly acquired information added. She couldn't wait to make another trip home to glean further details. She was keen to chat about her early results with someone – anyone. She felt so energised, almost bursting with excitement, although she realised that she was being childish. Oh! To hell with it.

“Hello, Peter? Is that you?”

He confirmed his identity and his pleasure at hearing from her. Sue related her family history finds with hardly a pause for breath. Peter congratulated her on what he thought was great progress. He suggested that her next step would be to obtain copies of each grandparent's birth certificate and to do that would probably require a visit to London.

*

“Mum! Guess who has come to live near us,” cried Katy excitedly as she charged into the house making Sue jump. Jo followed at the more dignified pace befitting her developing maturity. Sue, startled from her reverie, asked what all the fuss was about. Katy explained that the house along the lane that had been empty for a while had been bought by the Potters. Her mother's puzzled look prompted Katy to explain that it was Rosy Potter's family. “My best friend from school. They moved in over half-term.” It will be nice for Katy to have someone to play with locally, Sue thought. Katy happily agreed and said that she had invited Rosy over after tea. Maybe her brother Sam may come as well. He was in Jo's class.

“He better not,” said Jo, “he's a real swot.”

“Well we all know you'd rather it was the luscious hunk Simon Heath who'd moved here don't we?”

The interested observer would be forgiven for concluding that there was some truth in Katy's remark from her sister's, less than dignified, reaction. A lightning lunge, a dodge, a flurry and weave followed by a race upstairs, finally rounded off by a slamming of doors.

*

Dave had escaped the confines of his office. He was on the Fosse Way again but this time travelling northwards on his way to visit Joe Griffiths in Nuneaton. Joe represented his company, who were the manufactures of the steam turbines at West Winford. Dave had been eagerly awaiting this meeting. It was the next logical step along his test-programme flow chart.

He put his foot down. Dave liked the Fosse Way. The good old Romans knew how to build roads, they didn't give a bugger about planning permission or public enquiries – straight as a die. The only slight irritations were the increasing number of main roads to cross as he got further north. This however, did nothing to spoil his buoyant mood. He reflected that this was almost a permanent state these days and little wonder. Everything was going so well. He loved his job, the personal freedom he enjoyed to get on with it without the continual necessity of seeking approval. This was so different to Fisher's Tubes, where his time and his work method had been strictly controlled. There was also the increased status. He mixed freely with his managers and had personal dealings with senior people at the various locations. Added to this was the interaction with his highly respected and renowned co-workers on the Corrosion Sub-Committee. On the home front, Jo and Katy had settled much better than he had anticipated. It had been an added bonus that the Potters had moved into the village. Sue, though a little down to start with, now seemed in a better frame of mind since meeting Pam and taking up her family history quest. As for the location, he had known from the outset that for him it was a dream come true; living in a rural setting had been a long held ambition.

Joe met Dave and took him on a tour of the laboratories. He was shown the partly constructed steam test rig, which was progressing well, before returning to Joe's office to discuss the programme, in particular the type of specimen to be used. Joe felt that the evidence was mounting in favour of the failure of the Winford disc having been caused by stress corrosion, in fact he said that in his view there was no doubt. Accordingly, as his rig capacity was limited, he was in favour of using test specimens in a stressed condition. Dave agreed and had planned to do the same in his on-site steam rig. If the specimens for their separate tests were taken from the same disc material and were of similar design, they should obtain a direct comparison from both test rigs. After lunch, they settled down to consider specimen design.

It was Joe's view that a lot, maybe all, of the evidence so far obtained was leading to the, he thought inevitable, conclusion that sodium hydroxide contamination was necessary to cause cracking in the medium strength low alloy steel from which the LP discs were made. It was possible that some sodium hydroxide, which was known to be present in the boiler water, had been inadvertently carried over with the steam into the turbine. This contamination may only have been present for a short time, but long enough for a small pit or crack to develop in the disc. Joe's view was that such a defect, once formed, might later deepen during operation in normal ‘uncontaminated' steam and penetrate into the disc at the keyway, where the stress was highest. It could become deep enough to cause failure under the operating stress of the steam turbine – increased during overspeed testing.

Dave listened carefully as Joe developed his point, nodding occasionally at the faultless logic. What Joe had in mind, given what he'd said, was the use of a specimen design that incorporated a preformed defect. In summary, he recommended using specimens containing a defect, in the form of a sharp crack, which would represent the sodium hydroxide damage that might have occurred in the actual discs. These specimens would be fitted with a bolt in such a way that a stress could be applied to the crack, the amount of stress could vary in the various specimens. Each specimen would be x-rayed before starting the test to obtain a picture of the starting crack. The specimens would be put into the test rig, through which high purity steam would be passed. Each specimen would be removed and x-rayed again to check for any increase in crack depth. Afterwards they would be returned for further exposure.

Finally, Joe had a pleasant surprise for Dave, as he had sufficient specimens, machined from the failed disc, for Dave's on-site tests as well as his own. Dave was delighted, even more so to find that they were already loaded up to the required stress intensities and each had been x-rayed. All Dave had to do now was to get his own test rig installed at Winford. He hoped that it could be ready to go by early March.

*

Dave left Nuneaton and travelled the short distance into Birmingham. He had arranged to stay with his parents overnight in order to call in on his old workmates the following day.

He submitted to the customary inquisition as they sat around the tea table. His parents lived quietly these days and were glad to learn of their son's progress. Mrs Harrison was unapologetic in her quest for information, as she was always keen to have something with which to impress her neighbours. Mr Harrison, though more diffident, was also proud of his son and enjoyed learning of his work. Later, as his parents settled down to watch television, Dave phoned Sue.

“Hello love, I'm glad you called,” greeted Sue, “how did your meeting go?”

“Fine, thanks. How's everything back at base camp?”

“All quiet now and I'm relaxing after a couple of boisterous hours with the Potter kids here. Betty has just collected them. She'd been invited out for the day so I agreed to look after Sam and Rosy.”

“That's good, but you will have to be careful that you don't become a regular child minder,” cautioned Dave.

“Yes I will, but it would suit me if, between us, we could set up an occasional sharing system as it would mean that I could get out now and again with Pam and so forth. Incidentally, on that subject, I would like to go up to Somerset House to do more family research and there's a chance for me to get up there in the next couple of weeks if it's OK with you.”

“Sounds a good idea. Be a nice change.”

Sue seized the opportunity. “I'd hoped you wouldn't mind as the chap who lent me a copy of his family history book – you remember?”

“Yes, Peter somebody?”

“Peter Fenner, that's right. Well he's offered me a seat in his car when he goes up to London for the day. Apparently he takes several of his family history circle regularly and they each go off and do their own thing. Although he has two regulars, the third seat is often free. It would be handy for me and economical too.”

“Sounds great,” enthused her husband.

“That's where an arrangement with Betty Potter would be good, as she'd look after Jo and Katy and, together with Sam and Rosy, get their homework hour organised.”

“That would be ideal.”

“Thanks love. Now I've got some good news for you – well for both of us really, and no, before you ask, I'm not pregnant. Gritty popped in to let you know that your request for a contract-hire car has been approved. It seems that the cost is mainly borne by the Authority, so hopefully, we should be able to afford to keep our Morris as well.” Dave agreed that it was good news. He rejoined his parents feeling pleased with himself. It was likely that Sue would be much happier now, having the extra freedom the car would give. Hopefully he could put all his efforts into achieving his own ambitions without feeling too guilty. The future did indeed look bright.

*

How dingy it all seemed. Dave was welcomed by his former lab colleagues, as he had been by the familiar faces that he'd passed on his way through the main workshops. He had forgotten just how noisy and frantic the place was. He had some good mates here. The lab was busy as ever and most of his former colleagues nodded a welcome or exchanged a quick handshake, before returning to their work. Dave didn't resent this. He could remember the pressure they were under to turn around the work quickly.

A couple of his closest friends broke off what they were doing and led him into the quiet of the chemical balance room for a chat. They brought him up to date with the gossip concerning mutual friends and appeared keen to hear of his progress. The three of them had been together for many years. As new school leavers they had joined Fisher's training scheme. They had embarked upon part-time day release courses at college and night school, desperately working through the various stages of the National and Higher National Certificate courses, followed by the professional institutions' examinations, the dread of having to repeat a year ever present. But good times for all that. They had played in the company's football and cricket teams and been especially active in the pursuit of girls and even now, as they relived some of the incidents, the hint of competition was still alive. After a cup of tea, Dave took his leave, promising to keep in touch.

Back in the car, Dave reflected upon those earlier times. His working life now was so different from that of the many people, bright people, working in numerous industrial labs around the Midlands. Even after obtaining their professional qualifications, the work for many was undemanding and repetitive. The chemists had maybe a hundred routine samples to analyse each day, whilst the metallurgists spent hours carrying out repetitive tensile strength or hardness tests on batches of components. All run like a production line really. Occasionally, an unusual job might turn up, perhaps a component failure to investigate but, for the most part it was a boring routine. Despite this he had been happy and contented and he admitted that, left to himself, he would probably have remained at Fisher's all his working life – lack of ambition, imagination, or just plain inertia? He was pleased that, largely thanks to Sue, he had taken his opportunity. As a result he felt that now he had a chance to make his mark and was sure that very many of the lads at Fisher's and elsewhere could do equally well given the chance. He was, after all, just one of them. The industrial landscape of Bolton and Watt gave way to pastoral Shakespeare country as Dave made his way home.

An unusual calm hovered, albeit precariously, as Katy and Jo grudgingly completed another assignment and Sue buried herself in her book. Dave's arrival was an excuse for all three to take a break.

Dave heard of their various activities, in particular Sue's preparations for her family history trip, which was due within the next couple of weeks. She was intending to obtain copies of the birth certificates for her grandparents. These were held at Somerset House. It seemed, however, that it was necessary to carry out one's own searches through the records. She was comforted in the knowledge that she would not be alone, as one of her fellow passengers on the trip was also visiting Somerset House and, as she was an old hand, would probably be able to get her started. Peter and the other woman were planning to visit The Society of Genealogists.

*

Dave learned that the manufacture of his test vessel was complete and being delivered to Winford. He made plans to travel down to the site with Gritty, to organise its assembly into the steam turbine pipework. As this would be a two day job arrangements were made for an overnight stay in Lyndhurst.

Dave asked Ian to store the pre-cracked specimens which he had received from Joe Griffiths. He also mentioned his own intention of including some extra specimens that did not contain cracks. The purpose of these was to determine whether cracks could initiate under normal ‘uncontaminated' steam conditions without having any pre-existing defect present. He accepted that this was extremely unlikely, but it would eliminate any lingering doubts that cracks could form during normal turbine operation. He regarded this as good science.

What he required were specimens to be manufactured from the Winford LP disc material, in the form of long bolts, loaded into an open steel frame through which steam could flow. The specimens would be stressed using locking nuts. He sketched what he had in mind. Ian, being both intelligent and resourceful, would, Dave was confident, be able to get the frame with its loaded specimens organised by the time the on-site test vessel was ready.

Dave arranged to pick up Gritty en route to Winford. He started early. Gritty was waiting at his front gate, ever keen and reliable. They arrived at Winford and were in high spirits now that the long tedious preparation period was over, things were now on the move. But not for long.

“No chance of a fitter until after lunch,” Dave was told. So he and Gritty spent the morning checking the test site around the steam inlet to the LP section of Number 5 turbine, deciding where best to position the test vessel. They found a suitable space on the turbine operating floor.

It was four o'clock when the fitter arrived. Although this was annoying, as far as the experiment was concerned, a short delay was not a problem as the length of the test was likely to be several months. Dave's concern was that Number 5 turbine which they'd been allocated for their experiment, was due to return to service the following evening and, as the Senior Maintenance Engineer had so succinctly announced, ‘It's steam-to-set at five o'clock tomorrow even if you're inside the bloody thing'.

“Right you are gents,” said the fitter on his arrival, “where's the permit?” It was following this remark that a naive Dave was instructed on the ‘permit to work' system which every power station operates. In brief, he learned that it was a safety system organised by the permit office, who issued permits, locks and keys to the person undertaking the work. The plant item covered by the permit was disabled and could not be operated until the permit had been returned. So Dave needed a permit for his work on the LP steam system. The fact that Dave couldn't fault the logic did little to soothe his temper. The final straw was the queue of people awaiting attention in the permit office. Naturally this was always busiest during overhaul periods. So as Dave and Gritty made their way to their digs in Lyndhurst, they could reflect that all they had achieved in one full day was finally obtaining a permit to do some work.

*

Sue was delighted when Peter called to ask if she was free the following day as they were having to bring their London trip forward. One of the ladies had a hospital appointment on the original day, he explained. Sue, having confirmed that Betty Potter could take Jo and Katy after school, had agreed.

*

It was an early start, but Sue found no difficulty in getting out of bed. Her interest in family history had been building; gradually dominating her thoughts. Even during sleep the subject had not been completely erased with the result that, before becoming fully conscious, a ghostly vision of an imagined ancestor hovered around her bed, beckoning; urging her awake.

It was a pleasant drive up to London with an abundance of chatter on all things genealogical between the two elderly women. Peter had been quiet, which may have been due to the need to concentrate on negotiating the rush-hour traffic. However, during a lull in the conversation, he explained to Sue that he would park the car under the Hammersmith flyover and they would pick up the tube from there.

All four took the District Line, with Peter and Beryl getting off at Gloucester Road, as they were visiting the Society of Genealogists' library, whilst Sue and Kathleen stayed on until Temple. The two of them climbed the hill up to the Strand and turned left to Somerset House. This building housed the birth, marriage and death certificates of all residents of England and Wales who had been registered since July 1837.

It came as a shock to Sue that she would not be searching through certificates, but through indexes and she was disappointed to learn that she would not have anything to take home with her that day. Any copies she ordered would be posted on to her.

*

Dave's patience was sorely tried early on his second day at Winford. He had thought that, having obtained the permit to work and having his fitter and mate, all would be well, but then another obstacle – the safety man – made further difficulties. The test vessel, he was informed, could not be sited where they had planned – ‘a clear hazard if ever he'd seen one'. Therefore, it would have to be positioned further away between two existing steam pipes, out of the main walkway. An additional requirement was that the test vessel and all its associated pipework, would have to be insulated to protect other workers, as these items would be hot when operating. Having thus spoken, he consulted his clipboard, scanned down its itemised list, before moving on to spoil someone else's morning.

After some head scratching and intakes of breath, Dave's fitter measured up the various pipe runs and identified suitable valve positions before returning to his workshop to begin cutting pipe to size. Later, he informed Dave, he would be back to sort out the routing and bending of the pipe sections required to bring the sampled steam, from the overhead LP turbine steam inlet supply, down to the test vessel's new location. Gritty and Dave were left to survey the test vessel and consider how best to position it in the area now required by the safety officer.

“It's going to be a tight squeeze,” Gritty observed, and Dave agreed. Between them they attempted to manoeuvre the vessel, which, in effect, was a large diameter, stainless steel cylinder with flanges top and bottom, several pipe entry bosses and fixing lugs. It was cumbersome and surprisingly heavy.

*

“I do believe they are getting heavier,” observed Sue to her companion as she carried another large volume and set it down with a thump on the sloping shelf. The other woman smiled in silent agreement.

The indexes of births, through which Sue was searching, were large, heavy, leather-bound volumes stretching seemingly endlessly along the shelving which lined the walls. The three separate sections, births, marriages and deaths, were divided up by narrow balconies. Each section began in July 1837 and ran chronologically up to the present day, every year being divided into quarters.

Sue began her search of the indexes looking for her grandfather, Harry Boughton. As she knew his age was twenty three from his marriage certificate in early 1902, she started with the January – March Volume for 1879, but without success, so she had to progress through the rest of that year and then into 1880 – another four heavy volumes – with no sign of Harry Boughton. Oh dear, this wasn't going to be as straightforward as she had imagined. Sue decided to try the years either side of the two years she had searched through and then, in the second volume, April – June of 1878, she found his entry. Despite feeling self-conscious, she experienced much joy at this, her first find. As she was to learn, this reaction never seemed to diminish, each success producing the same jolt of pleasure. Sue completed the application form for a copy of the original certificate, noting down his name, the place of registration (Aston), the volume, date and quarter plus an index reference number.

She next moved on to Harry's wife, Florence Daniel, in Birmingham, but another problem arose when she found several entries of that name in the indexes for the likely years and no obvious way of knowing which was her ancestor. She felt that it would be more useful to use the remaining time by moving on to her paternal grandparents Tom Turner and Caroline Jane Loomes, hoping to find a Caroline who was born in Paddington. She was less certain of the dates for these, as she had only the guesses that Uncle Stan had made to go on and it was very many books later – arms tired, back sore and feeling hot and sticky – before she found the likely entries and completed the request forms. Sue handed these in with the fee (7/6d each) and after self-addressing an envelope, she was finished. She realised that there was the possibility that the people that she'd identified might not be her ancestors. There could be other Tom Turners, for example, born in Birmingham around the same time as her grandfather. There was no way of knowing from the indexes alone and so she would have to wait until the copies of the certificates arrived. As she made her way back to the tube, she checked the time and was surprised when she found how long it had taken just to complete these first few steps.

*

“This will take forever,” complained Dave, giving the test vessel a violent shake, for the umpteenth time.

“Dave. Dave. Let's just leave it for a minute,” advised Gritty, stepping back and wiping his brow on the sleeve of his overall.

They had been struggling unsuccessfully for almost half an hour, the turbine hall was noisy, hot and humid, and they were both sweating profusely. The turbines either side of the one upon which they were working were operating and the floor throbbed with the vibrations created. There were plumes of steam emanating from vents here and there, adding to the humidity.

The situation was a tantalising one as, although it appeared that the test vessel would just fit into the space between the two large pipes, it simply refused to go into that position. Was it an optical illusion? The lugs welded to the sides didn't help, but even so it seemed possible that it should fit.

Dave succumbed reluctantly to Gritty's entreaty and they both went to the mess room for a drink and a well-earned break. Gritty, ever sensible, was right. A five minute rest and reflection was likely to be more beneficial than continuing the struggle.

They discussed progress, or rather the lack of it. It was not only the problem of getting the test vessel positioned, but the construction of the necessary steam piping was not progressing well either. The fitter and his mate had appeared periodically from their workshop with variously shaped sections and, as often as not, after shaking their heads they returned to their lair. Time was running out quickly, as Dave regularly reminded anyone who cared to listen. Gritty could sense how short Dave's temper was becoming, with outright rage only just beneath the surface of his colleague's sweaty, grimy, exterior. Although they had removed most of their clothing beneath their overalls, it still felt as though they were working in a tropical rain forest.

“Right, back to it. It's almost two o'clock,” urged Dave, lifting himself stiffly from a stool.

A surprising sight greeted them when they returned to the waiting turbine, with half a dozen men cheerfully working away above and below the turbine floor level. The mate explained that all the necessary piping had been cut and shaped and Fred (his fitter) had persuaded some of his colleagues to help with the assembly and fixing. A bit of good news at last.

Dave felt under particular pressure as this was his first major job; the first real test of his management skills. He thought that he had performed well since joining the SSA and in that respect, had been appreciated by both his Section Head and his colleagues. That, however, had been the kind of work for which he had been trained and had practised for many years at Fisher's Tubes. This was different. It was larger, in every sense, than laboratory based work. He was in charge and having to deal with practical men under on-site conditions. It was new to him, but was the kind of operation that he was expected to be competent to cope with. He had his test facility to get organised at Thornton Power Station when this investigation was completed, which, he assumed, would require similar qualities.

Well, at least things were now moving along, though he and Gritty had not made much progress themselves. Yet another half an hour, feeling physically drained, they had still not succeeded. The tempers of both men were fraying and, as Gritty gave the test vessel an unwelcome tug just as his colleague had his side positioned, Dave exploded in a torrent of expletives which the ever willing Gritty certainly did not deserve. Dave then proceeded to push – pull – shake and twist the vessel as violently as his waning strength and sweating palms would allow until his temper was assuaged. Gritty took up the struggle manfully, tugging and kicking, but with equal futility as his comrade. To the casual observer, this must have presented a comic scene reminiscent of Laurel and Hardy in the days of black and white films. They had to let it go. Their energy spent.

“Bastard thing,” Gritty observed with feeling, offering a final puny kick. “It's not helping having to hold it above floor level. When Alan designed it he imagined that the vessel would be supported by its pipe connections, but it would have been better to have had some feet welded to the bottom so that it could rest on the floor.”