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Harold Taylor continues his memoirs:-
When I got to the gate of the yard I was met by LO, 'Oh jesu grist, I am having trouble. The fuse keeps blowing, I've got a nail in there now and it is red hot.' I suggested he switched off and looked for a possible cause rather than over load the system that might burn out. LO was K.I.C. and I do not remember who else was on station other than it was an S.A.K.
The plug connections for the lights were flat on the ground in concrete blocks that held the pivots for the searchlights. I started there, as the moisture was running down the cable to the watertight fitting, or it would have been had it not been for what I found. Where the cable entered the gland on one, instead of having a round rubber washer, someone had just wrapped round a piece of rubber and moisture was entering through the join.
With the other, although there was a round hole around the cable, this block of rubber had outer square edges so it did not fill the gland and moisture was entering that way. So after about an hours work in difficult conditions the lights were restored and remained so for there after.
Bob did not remain with us long, a vacancy arose for a P.K. at Souter Point near his home, which he took.
It was a land station anyway. I believe he stayed there till he retired. He was replaced by Arthur Hughes, who came to us on first appointment as P.K. from Nash Point where he had been for several years. He certainly joined us late that year.
Round about Xmas that year I was on station and Pat was in charge. I had been up the island again, and returned as usual about tea time to find Pat sitting in the dark. I asked him why and learned that when he tried to start the engine it had burnt out. I found out that he had not reported at the last test because the radio would not work.
I tried to start the new charging engine to charge the radio batteries, but could not get a charging reading. I changed over the batteries and he reported the matter over the air. A few days later, Will had to journey over to the mainland to pick up an electrician, who turned out to be Jock Jess. He had strict instructions to do what he could immediately and return as it was Xmas and they could not risk him being stuck on the station over that period.
It was dark when he arrived and turned to straight away, using Tilley lamps for the purpose. Pat never put in an appearance. I feel Eddie must have been acting as O.K. again. First Jock re-wired the starting system, but it again burnt out as soon as he tried to start the motor. He therefore gave up on that. He had only done that to get some light to see what was wrong with the Charging Engine, the specific purpose for which he had been sent.
On examination of this he decided that for some reason the equipment was producing reverse polarity, which is the same conclusion I had reached. Jock went through the usual procedures for correcting this phenomenon, without success, as also I had earlier.
Incidentally, many of the Radio Mechanics had only the same qualification as myself when I went to sea as Radio Officer, so I could talk on equal terms. Some of course resented this. He decided then that he would try to cut out some portions of the circuit to find in which section it occurred. He was doing it with the board live so that he could check reaction, or rather between us we could view the reaction, as from where he was working he could not see the meters.
There was very little room and we only had limited light. Suddenly there was a big flash, and when our eyes had become accustomed to the light I saw that whatever he had done had cured the trouble.
I asked him, 'What did you do?'
He replied that he did not know, so I said,' Well don't do it again because you've cured it.' So we never knew what the trouble was. It was a mysterious fault cured by a mysterious remedy and left him free to go home the following day, which I think was the 23rd.
Having come out on a quick flip, Jock had brought neither food or bedding for his visit, so we fed him and he slept on the floor in the sitting room where we kept in the fire all night, using my overcoat as a blanket. When he left the following morning he was grateful for the help and comfort promising me a chicken to recompense for both. I am still waiting.
This charging unit was a new fitment to the station, and had been withdrawn from South Bishop station during its modernisation and electrification. It was called a Carbon Pile Generator.
The modernisation of the Bishop was a bit of a joke in my eyes, because of a certain set of circumstances, which go back before Bob Anderson. It was just before Xmas 58, my first year on the station and Bob was P.K. at the Bishop.
A radio message was passed to that station to the effect that a ship had reported that the sequence of lights was 17secs out. The reply sent by Bob was,' That is quite possible, as it is impossible to regulate the lens.' We all had a good laugh. The lens control was an Air Governor, similar to the one I had experienced at the Hanois for controlling the Fog Bell. It was extremely un-reliable, and there was a story that suspended somewhere in close proximity was a Gull feather treated with oil that rubbed on a vital part and kept the thing lubricated.
The station had been set up for Electrification 5 years earlier. All the equipment had been delivered and was cluttering up the gallery being attacked by the weather. Modernisation was put into immediate effect except when they came to unpack the cases all the stuff was unusable and had to be replaced Perhaps I should add that upon numerous visits by Officials, I understand repetitive instructions had been made for the removal of the Gull feather, which always led to worse circumstances of timing.
I have wandered from the issue. To get back to Bardsey, there was another amusing sequel to the lighting engine failure. In the New Year, the Electrical Superintendent; which was a new appointment and an ex Naval Officer, from Blackwall Depot arrived on station with a specialist from Listers to find out what the fault was with the engine and other matters.
I think the time was early February. I was on station with Arthur Hughes, and probably LO. The first thing that Listers' man decided was that we were using the wrong oil in the engine sump. This was not news to us, but we had been over ruled by Trinity. We were to use the oil supplied to the station.
The engine had been re-wired and no success was made in starting it. A delay now occurred until the weather was suitable for Will to go ashore and obtain the right lubricant. In the mean time these two spent their time going round all the fittings looking for a leak to earth, which they had found on putting on a Mega test.
They were not successful, and whilst discussing it one day at the dinner table, I remarked that from what they had said they had removed all fitting possible, except the main distribution board where all the main switches and fuse boxes were.
They looked at me in amazement, and dis-belief that they would find the fault there. Reluctantly they did this soul destroying job and came back triumphant, having found a crushed Pyro cable which would allow moisture to have contact with the wires. The engine room walls would run with moisture during foggy weather.
A rather funny incident came from this visit. Supplied with this new lighting unit had come a battery stand for the starter batteries. This was in a two tier form, but the bottom bank of batteries could not be serviced without disconnecting them and removing them from the stand. As I serviced these I had something to say about it.
Alan Frazier, the Electrical Supt. was at the dinner table one day, and we were discussing their work in general, when I spoke up and said, ' The bloke who designed that battery stand should build another, tie it round his neck and jump off the end of the island.' Whilst I was finishing this statement I had noticed Arthur signalling to me. Alan replied rather sheepishly, ' I'm sorry Harold, that was me.'
Alan must have conceived quite a trust in me, for when he left the station he had not quite completed all he would have liked to, and entrusted me to complete them for him, although Arthur deemed them non-essential, and they were never carried out.
Arthur was a keen swimmer and except when the weather was bad never failed to go for his daily swim, many times in my opinion in areas where it was not safe, out beyond the Cafn into the main stream across its mouth. Although this was early in the year, late Feb or early March, Alan decided one day that he would join Arthur and borrowed my costume. When he arrived back he was like a frozen digit.
We used to mix in with the Islanders as much as possible as we were a small community, who all needed each other for some purpose. All wood flotsam was hauled up above high water mark and carted away for fuel, no one ever touched anyone else's pile. Although at the lighthouse we did not use the wood, the depot supplied the coal, we still pulled up useful bits of timber as a past time, donating it to whoever we might first meet.
In the past it had been a very useful asset to some keepers. They would take it to the lighthouse, cut it up into short lengths, pack it in sacks and take home aboard the ship, giving a sack or two here and there for assistance from the crew. No doubt with coal rationing this had been a great aid, but it seemed to be on the decline, although Pat and LO still carried it on. For people like me it was not very practical. All flotsam carried the Welsh name of 'brock'.
Arthur did not take advantage of it. I was in the double turn with him and as it turned out I would spend the evening before relief at his home where they would give me supper, which saved my money, both food wise and because I did not go out drinking. I do not think Arthur was a drinking man. I did not like his attitude at home, but then there are a lot of men like that, who seem to take the idea that their wife is their servant, sit back and let everything move on around them. There were three daughters, and their intention seemed to be to move out of home as soon as possible.
There was a strange hierarchy in Trinity, fair, but almost unnecessary. I noticed it in this District more than any other. It was, to move people around in order of seniority to give then a better life. I would like to describe it in these terms, The Smalls was considered to be the worst station, followed by South Bishop, Skokholm, then Bardsey.
Therefore in order of your rank and length of service you would progress around the District. I was fortunate in a way, being the senior junior when I came to Bardsey, I stayed, as all the others being brought into the station were more senior than I, but a lot of the others from the other three stations seemed always to be on the move.
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