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Retired lighthouse keeper Harold Taylor continues his memoirs about a tour of duty at Hanois at Alderney in 1974-75:--
Going up the central staircase one reached what had been the lantern, but was now a room with two levels. The front contained an engine, up a short flight was the compressors for the Fog signal and arranged around the walls were the batteries. A vertical ladder led to the lantern. What was now the upper engine room had been the floor of the lantern in the old days.
The lantern had apparently been shortened. Another gallery flat built at what would have been plinth level, and the new lantern built on it, retaining roughly the same height. Going out through the gallery door at lantern level, one would have access to a device used for refuelling. Because the helipad was down on the rocks, a means to get the fuel and water by helicopter had to be devised.
This was done by building at lantern level a large netted area, where the chopper could deposit a pillow tank of fuel or water. Hoses would be connected and the commodity would make its way down by gravity. There were to be snags about this later.
The helipad was a problem, being below water level for more than half the day it grew a lot of algae. This had to be cleaned off ready for the relief as it became like a skating rink. It took many hours with stiff brooms and chloride of lime. There was a large expanse of rocks to which we had access at low water.
The main landing was on two levels. On the top level at the west side of the tower was a pool which I gather had been used by the builders for collecting water at high tide, which would be left and accessible. When I was there previously, during the Neap tides the keepers had kept their crab or lobster catches there, until on one occasion a storm had arisen and the catch had been washed out.
At my suggestion they had a wire mesh cover built to prevent this. Although the cover was missing one could see where it had been fastened. We used to use the pool to have a dip and clean up during the summer. It was also the pool we used to top up the toilet and shower tank.
To get back to the oil supply. I found that although one could usually top up the fuel tanks in the lower engine room with the electric pump, it was almost impossible to do the same with the top engine room. One had to resort to using a hand pump which was there for emergency purposes. I did send a pump away for servicing in the hope that it would improve things but it did not.
In the mean time I looked around for reasons, at the same time bearing in mind the disastrous circumstances when Clive had closed the station down due to water in the fuel. I found that the system had not been changed and there was still no means of sumping the oil tanks. As I have mentioned it was no use asking Bob K anything because he seemed to know nothing about the station although he would have been K.I.C under the previous regime.
He also could not tell you where you might find things. Eventually I found some 'Blue Chalk', an item he had never heard of. My tests showed I had from 4 to 6 inches of water in all the five tanks, but no means to get it out. I hunted around and found some plastic piping and some copper piping.
With these I managed to fiddle sufficient length over and into the tanks to reach the bottoms. There was only a few inches clearance between the top of the tanks and the ceiling. Then with some more outside to reach below the level of the bottom of the tank I sucked until I had sufficient water in the pipe to commence a syphon action.
Thus I was able to remove the water from the storage tanks. In the course of this action I realised why one had difficulty in pumping fuel to the top of the tower, and proved it over a period.
What had happened was an incompetent system of pipes. Instead of taking a draw off from the bottom of the tanks to the pump, they had inserted a pipe down from the top inside the tank to the bottom then gone down the outside of the tank to the pump which was situated about level with the bottom of the tanks, therefore the pump did not remain primed as it would have done the other way, and in my opinion the pump had more to do than it was capable of.
This was later proved to some extent when the tanks were full up. In that state one had no difficulty in pumping fuel all the way to the top of the building, but once the tanks got about half empty the pump could not carry out its intended function.
We had more difficulties with this later, because after about two turns off, Trinity decided to change their helicopter contractors. They brought in a smaller aircraft, which could not carry the 200 gallon tanks. Their limit was 100, and initially they used the 200 bags to carry it. It presented us with a colossal problem.
The net had sagged due to the previous pressure. The half filled bags did not show a profile above the side of the net, so there was no 'head' of liquid to start the gravity feed. We used all means at our disposal to commence this, and we were fortunate in having an extra hand on the job, a mechanic from Blackwall, Clem Leggat.
We tried by means of pulley and rope to raise the tank one end to give us this head, but it was not enough. You have to realise that 100 gallons weighs at least 1,000 lbs. I succeeded in the end by pumping fuel up from the oil store, past the top engine room, and into the pillow tank, then letting it flow back which started up the syphon.
During this time we were in contact with the depot at Cowes, by the depot tender, and the Supt. was on the air. In reporting the difficulties we were having which he did not seem to comprehend I told him it was like trying to have sex with a Walrus. He told me to order what ever I needed, to come off on the next relief to strengthen the netting.
This I did, and the material came off on the next relief, but the P.K. did not have the same concept of the situation and cut all the timber lengths, creating a small island in the centre of the net. This prevented me using the material as I intended to cover the whole area. The extra long 'U' bolts I had ordered were not used and were now of no use. Some of the, now spare timber, I used to make the bedroom more comfortable.
By replacing a lot of thick cardboard which had been used for separating zones, with timber shelves and screening across the scaffold tubes. There was an amusing, though serious incident regarding fuelling after Management Aviation took over the reliefs.
It came about this way. Not having a winch like the Sikorsky, this new plane had only a lifting gear that could jettison the pillow tank with a lever situated internally. They came out with their tank of fuel, but found after gently presenting themselves over the net that it would not release.
At the time this Bulkow chopper was strange to us and we did not know its workings, otherwise we may have defined the problem. After about three attempts to deposit the oil the chopper made off and was coming in for a further attempt, when suddenly the bag fell from the craft into the sea where it left a horrible green stain.
At the time of the release and its suddenness, the chopper nearly flipped over backwards, as the pilot was not expecting to lose the load. It transpired that what had happened, was that the loading crew at the airport; also new, had inadvertently hooked the lifting strap over part of the framework which carried the releasing hook, and making the tank unreleasable.
The Hamco was useful to an extent, but because it needed proper Domestic fuel, and Trinity was only using commercial diesel, it lost out, not only in efficiency, but manual hours for us cleaning it. The fuel left considerably more carbon and took us hours to clean out.
At the same time, Norman was not helpful in the matter, taking some of the tools and turning them into 'crab holing' implements. They were beyond recovery for their proper use. It was the same with some antique tools which he had destroyed from their original use. Such as the Bow Drill.
After about two turns I lost Bob Kett who was promoted P.K. and went to Wolf Rock. After a few turns he requested to be returned to A.K. In his place we had a comical, but immensely friendly chap called Pete Smith.
A nicer chap you could not wish to meet. He was a heavy goods driver and obviously missed his calling. He had an eye for the ' birds' and I believe all his tales of scoring whilst waiting for the relief to be carried out. Although a great mate he was really very unsuitable to be a lighthouse keeper as he could not bear his own company. He was an incessant chatter box.
He eventually resigned after a few years. I did visit him at his home in the Midlands once. He and Bob W got on well. One relief when we were delayed he hired a car so as to see more of the island and we joined him.
Whilst I was on station a directive came out for us to list all the engine spares on station.
There was apparently some sort of economy going on. Not before time, as the workshops department were extremely wasteful. For example, whenever they came on station to do a job, or service, what they did not use they left on station. We used to accumulate cupboards full of stuff that would never be used, and which it would be ridiculous to throw away.
For instance, we had three engines on station, each of which had three fuel injectors, we had 24. At the next service a mechanic would turn up with another 9. We had something like a dozen sets of engine joints, and three would come out at each service, the mechanic only using a few of the items in the pack.
I returned a huge list of stuff I wished to be rid of. In all probability, they did not know the use for some so never requested their return. In fact I got rid of little other than about half of the injectors. So our cupboards remained full. It did have some recompense, because although we should not have had the gear on station I was able to carry out repairs to the piping of one of the compressors when they burst.
One comical episode, for which my record seems to have disappeared was an occasion, when we had been refuelling. As our new contractors helicopters did not have winching arrangements. It meant when the pillow tanks were emptied we had to carry then down the stairway and lower them to the landing from the winch room.
Whilst this was going on the slack rope was whipping about and it flicked my spectacles off. They landed on the concrete without breaking, but slid down a slope into a channel behind the lighthouse. This was about six feet wide and when full on a normal tide about the same in depth, but we must have been in the Springs for there was only about 3 feet in them.
One end of this channel was open to the sea. I decided to look for them, but to avoid the risk of standing on them I made a raft out of two life buoys. Using some goggles I had acquired I made a fruitless search of the water, but getting out I caught my shorts on some barnacles or some similar thing which ripped them to shreds so that as I came out of the water I was stood naked with just some green wellies on.
As chance would have it Pete had his camera down to photograph the chopper on the pad when it left, and took the opportunity of a candid camera shot.
One episode needs carrying further, and that is the incident of the Elwood Mead. Between the time that she went aground at Christmas and the time I joined the Hanois, another ship had run into trouble between the two sites and a little closer to the Hanois. She was a Philippine registered cargo vessel called the Prosperity.
She carried a deck cargo of timber and had struck the rocks. 24 members of her crew had perished. When I flew out to the lighthouse both wrecks were clearly visible, as was a lot of the timber strewn about the surrounding rocks, un-approachable by local boatmen. During the month we were to see this ship eventually split into three sections, two of which sank.
During the month; due to their presence, the Bristow helicopter got the contract to assist in the salvage of the Elwood Mead of some quarter of a million tons. All through the month they were ferrying mobile gravel pumps to the vessel to lighten ship in the hope of floating her off the pinnacle of rock that had pierced her bottom. Early the morning we were due ashore, it was hoped that she would float clear, but it was not to be, which in some ways led to a new experience for us, because our relief chopper was prevented from leaving Cornwall.
The temporarily locally based chopper was requested to take us ashore. In doing so it had to call at the Elwood and we landed on her deck. The next high water they were in fact able to float clear.
Getting home was still a chancy thing, because not knowing what time one would be put ashore, you could not book up in advance for the flight back to the mainland. We were never sure where that would be. Eastleigh, Gatwick or Heathrow.
Of course some wanted Birmingham or beyond. I was only ever interested in the first two and over the period of time we were able to organise a good relationship with the various booking offices. I recall once in fact, that from touch down from the chopper I was aboard a flight home within ten minutes.
From the days on Alderney, I discovered that I could book up a provisional flight some time in advance, but when I tried to organise this at Eastleigh they would not assist me. Subsequently, I found that I could do this from the Channel Island end, which seemed quite ridiculous, so this I did.
I also worked out a very useful situation with my baggage, which due to the terrorist threat one was supposed to keep an eye on. Until things got worse the reception would take my bag and place it with the aircrews baggage, this left me free to leave the airport if I had several hours to wait. Later when this was not convenient the Security Control people would take it in for me, and they would make great play, going through the motions of checks at boarding time, when they had had the stuff in their possession for hours already. It was probably done to unnerve other doubtful passengers.
Not long after this I got another move, brought about by some of Trinity's incompetence and disregard for other authorities. Someone had brought to the notice of the Bailiwick that the houses Trinity had been allowed to build for their keepers at Pliemont were not now being used for that purpose, but were occupied by keepers working at Sark Lighthouse.
The Welfare Officer visited me and told me of the situation, and Trinity had been threatened with the confiscation of the houses if keepers of the Bailiwick's lights were not housed there. To meet this requirement I was to be transferred to Sark and Wally Long would be returned to the Hanois where he had been before helicopter reliefs were introduced.
Another keeper who was transferred back was Dave Spurgeon, but I cannot recall whose place he took over although I do remember that Pete eventually went to the Smalls. Dave was a bloody nuisance, apparently he had discovered that the Helicopter pilot; the son of the owner, was given a substantial amount of money to spend on us chaps to keep us sweet. I discovered this accidentally.
Although the crew stayed at the best hotel on the island they would come out and meet us in the evening, and we would all go on the binge together, usually finishing up in the Wyndhams Hotel. On these nights Dave would turn up although he had to travel right across the island to do so. I noticed that he never put his hand in his pocket and stand his round like everyone else.
On one occasion when it seemed to be coming round to me again. I told him that it was time he put his hand in his pocket, with which he disappeared. Afterwards, Mike Bond, the pilot told me that he was always a 'hanger on' and had learnt that he was given £500. a year to spend on the keepers. I must admit Mike had been noted for his generosity.
We used to have some hilarious times early on with these reliefs until many of the chaps found their own places to settle. Such as Harry Whitehouse, who was now junior P.K. to Casquets. He was a character and a half. I had heard of him when I was on Lundy, but he had resigned by then, rejoining much later when I think I was on the Eddystone. He had a reputation for the drink and found his own place to imbibe. He openly said that all his suitcases contained were bottles of brandy. Bob K had his own hidey hole.
He seemed to frequent any of the funk holes occupied by the Irish, but I do not know for why, because he was not of that race himself.
Lane McComie, he of the D.T.s was a case in point, but we are going to meet him again later. When we first met he was appointed to Sark, but he was not going off there. Either through illness or some mix up, he was to go off to the Casquets on this first relief, which he did not take too kindly to.
He caused all sort of ructions and arguing with the Superintendent mainly by virtue of the fact of getting drunk at the airport, with so little else to do. Especially on the Sunday, waiting for the fog bound helicopter, when all we could get at the nearly deserted airport was cups of tea. Our agent there was particularly helpful and I worked up a useful relationship with him and his crew.
The end of this spell of duty for Harold Taylor at Hanois finished in 25th May 1975.
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