I guess at some time we’ve all watched a video or DVD shot in the cab of a steam locomotive, usually on the main line, as the engine speeds along.  The driver sitting, apparently relaxed, with one hand on the regulator and his arm leaning on the cab window, looking forward with an occasional glance upwards at the gauges.  The fireman shovels some coal into a roaring firebox and then standing back, mops the sweat from his brow with what appears to be an oily rag as he checks his gauges; feeding water into the boiler, watching the line for signals and shouting his observations to his driver.  All shouted over the cacophony of sound in this hot and steamy world, whilst balancing on the vibrating, rattling, swaying and pitching footplate.

From the unmoving comfort and safety of a deeply cushioned armchair it all looks so easy and the temptation to utter quietly “well I could do that” is also all too easy.  And of course it is easy – to put your name down, that is, for one of the Footplate Experience Courses offered by a large number of heritage railways.  So you want to drive a steam engine, a diesel engine, a diesel multiple unit, even a Bubblecar?  No problem sir!  If you have the money you can do it, and some railways can even offer you a series of five or six day long courses and turn you into a fireman and a driver at the end of it.

Funny that!  How long did it take someone in the days of steam on B.R. or even a volunteer on a heritage railway to get anywhere near the controls on the driver’s side?  Well years actually.  A couple of years or more spending extremely early, sometimes bitterly cold, mornings lighting up and cleaning the loco; learning all the time about the sharp bits, the hot bits and the very dirty bits that are attached to or stick out of the sides or bottom of the loco.  The same bits that catch the unwary a sharp blow to some part of their anatomy, bringing forth a torrent of Shakespearean English, clearly readable as their frozen breath hangs in the early morning air.

Even then the newly ‘passed’ cleaner had only just begun to learn the seemingly unending duties of a fireman under the watchful eye and, if you were really unlucky, the unceasing haranguing of an experienced driver.  Some firemen never ever got to drive, sometimes in forty or more years of service.  But between duties and with a quiet five minutes to themselves there was always the rule book – to be understood and learnt thoroughly.

And so after a few years of gaining experience firing, at last a chance to move the loco around the yard, still under the ever watchful eye of a qualified driver.  Until gradually experience was gained on the running lines and the ‘passed’ fireman could finally put himself forward for a job as driver.

In the new millennium however we don’t actually need to do all of that.  Time is, after all, a commodity in short supply and it’s so convenient therefore that we can compress years of hard learning into five or six one day courses.  Lovely jubbly!  Here’s my credit card, where do I sign?

Well I think not.  Did I mention learning the road?  Learning how to fire five or six different locomotives all with different size grates and a particular way of coaling the fire in each; or driving one loco on the right hand side of the cab and the next one on the left?  Yes you can get a whole mixture of locomotives from different regions on a heritage railway gala day.  And so it goes on, this lifelong learning curve.

But what we can do is to sample just a part of that.  For a small wadge of money we can take a bite into the top end of the learning curve, oh yes and throw a few shovelfuls of coal through that fire door thing just to show willing.  For our only concern is to get our hands on the long accelerator thingy and as long as we know where the brake pedal is we can be away!

Away with the fairies maybe, but not the steam locomotive!  So I joined a Footplate Experience course at the South Devon Railway to find out what the day is all about and get my own chance to actually drive a steam locomotive down the line.  And it must be said in fairness to the South Devon Railway that they do not attempt to describe the day other than “experience on the footplate.”    Which is exactly what the day is all about; providing us with a wealth of glorious memories to take home and treasure for years to come; even understand a little more of what is actually going on the next time the footplate DVD is watched.

The day begins, as it does with all heritage railways around the country, with a talk about safety on the railway.  This is a very important part of the course and one not to be ignored.  The SDR issues a sheaf of notes which are sent to you when you book, the page of safety notes ends with two very important statements: - It’s hot, it’s heavy and it moves; and The Railway is not a dangerous place until you forget that it is.

In my position as Photographer in Residence at the South Devon I have access to most parts of the railway, the sheds, the yards and a lot of my work is undertaken on the lineside.  Ingrained in my mind at all time is that latter statement – The railway is not a dangerous place until you forget that it is.  Put very simply it’s how I stay clear of injury, or even worse.

From this safety aspect of the day the group on Footex are given a tour of the Engineering Workshops, the locomotive shed and the yard.  Here they will catch first sight of the locomotive they will be operating and meet the crew who will be their teachers and guides for the day.  As the crew complete the final preparation of the loco there’s usually time to return to the station for that all important tea or coffee before the day starts in earnest.

Chris made sure that we had ‘the board’, that I had the reverser pulled fully back, that I had created sufficient vacuum in the train pipes and when Anthony called across ‘right away Driver’ after the guard had given him the green flag, I gave the whistle chain a sharp pull and tugged on the regulator.  I’d watched drivers using the regulator to start a train from a standing position many times and new that it was short movements that were required to get us moving.  I avoided the thing I was dreading most – getting too much steam into the cylinders and slipping – and got us off to a smooth start.  Chris’s whole ethos on the footplate is to drive as economically as possible and on his word I slid the reverser forward a couple of notches as our speed increased.

Having travelled the line so many times I knew where the speed restrictions were on the section I was driving – Buckfastleigh to Staverton – and was prepared for the first restriction when it came.  On this first trip Chris operated the blower so that we wouldn’t have too much to remember in the first five minutes.  When the regulator is closed there is a danger that the fire can blow back into the cab so the blower must be turned on.  On the word from Chris I closed the regulator, pulled the reverser right back and we rolled down the restriction and through the curve at Cadderford.

And so it went on all the way to Bishops Bridge, opening the regulator to bring the speed back up, notching up the reverser; coasting again at Hood Bridge until we got the board, sounding the whistle wherever the lineside notice dictated us to and generally getting an inkling of what this beast I was driving was all about.  At Bishops Bridge we entered the loop, where we were to hand in our token to the signalman and wait for the Totnes – Buckfastleigh service train with heavy freight 2-8-0 3803 in charge,  to pass us.  Here we swopped around, Anthony taking the regulator and me on the firing side.

Firing is perhaps something else people might fear having to do.  But the shovel is not that large so you are definitely not picking up a hundred weight of coal and trying to get it into the firebox.  Great Western locomotives had few luxuries for crews in their design, but the fireman is collecting coal on the shovel at cab floor level and only lifting it a few inches to the firebox door.  The most difficult thing I found was negotiating the shovel in an arc when the footplate area is restricted by virtue of the fact that there are four people in a cab designed for two.  On the pannier the firebox is not that deep either so there’s no great distance to throw the coal when the fireman (Sheree) asks you to put it on the front. 

During the course of the day you get three firing and driving turns – driving a different section each time.  I managed Buckfastleigh – Staverton; Totnes – Staverton and on the last trip Staverton – Buckfastleigh.  Each time a little more experience and confidence is gained, until you are quite able to anticipate Chris’s advice and more importantly be able to do everything in the correct order.  I found myself checking the chimney as confirmation of what I was doing with the regulator, checking the line ahead for signals and repeaters, and glancing at the vacuum gauge to make sure that all was well there.

At the end of the day it would be foolish to consider yourself an experienced driver, but you will certainly have gained confidence and the knowledge of how the locomotive works. I undoubtedly gained an empathy with this quite complicated but rather beautiful machine that is so responsive to your touch.

Just as I never had a burning desire to become a photographer all those years ago neither have I ever had a burning desire to drive a steam locomotive.  But after a day on the footplate the absolute joy of being in control of a machine that you don’t simply sit in, turn a key, put into gear and release the handbrake to get from A to B is ‘something else’.  To see the line from a different perspective, to be a part of that locomotive, to feel it, to hear it responding is something I will never forget.

Whoever lit the burning desire that I now have to drive and fire again thank you.  Perhaps it was the same person who has fired me up with  the burning desire to continue into retirement as a photographer – it took 43 years but I got there in the end.