Craig Black. Far-from-dazzling platinum blonde. Enthusiast of trains, boats and small furry animals - usually those with anthropomorphic qualities. Scottish. Aspergers (not like Elon Musk). He/him/that prick. Talks way too much, and never concisely. Co-creator of 'Space Pirate Captain MacTaggart'.
...and you won't do nothing to save your doggone soul- Oh, wait, sorry, it's not the song that title's referring to.
No, we're looking at that trusty old warhorse of urban transport, the tram. We examine the rise, fall and rebirth of the tram - from the humble horse-drawn examples on the Isle of Man, to the Balloons, Boats and Railcoaches which made Blackpool famous, to the tram's demise, to their subsequent ultra-modern rebirth on the streets of cities like Manchester.
This week, the narrow gauge gets its chance to shine! In the days of steam - and even long before - much industry depended on these little engines, not least the slate quarries of Wales. Many of these industries are long gone, but the trains live on in service to tourists. Some lines, of course, have always served tourists, and some have even been built purely for the entertainment of well-off individuals...
The coming of the railways had just as big an impact on the towns as it did on the countryside. Suburbs as we know them were created by people using the new lines to move out to greener, cleaner pastures, away from the smoky, grimy, crowded cities where they worked. London in particular became a hotspot for that new breed of passenger we now know as the commuter - but someone commuting along, say, the Metropolitan line would have a totally different experience from someone who used the Great Eastern. And they would both have a completely different experience to someone travelling by the ominously-named Misery Line to Southend.
Coal quite literally fuelled this country's Industrial Revolution, and railways as we know them were invented purely to carry it from where it was to where it was needed - all the other stuff we use them for was just an afterthought. Horses were used to haul the coal at first, but then steam engines came along, and gradually evolved to keep up with the ever-increasing demand for coal - in fact, the development of the industrial engine is almost a microcosm of the evolution its bigger main line cousins went through.
Saturday Movie Night: The Vicar Who Made Thomas The Tank Engine Was...Strange (2026)
Something a little unusual this week, as I'm showcasing a video that's literally only just been released! This comes from one of my favourite YouTubers outside of the Thomas/real world railway fandom, a chap called Eddache. His video essays are generally well-researched, well-edited, and pretty damn funny, so I wasn't worried when I heard he was doing a Thomas essay - I was confident he'd be able to do the subject justice...
...And he has done, by-and-large. Without giving too much away, he's managed to profile our Awdry in a way that's informative, balanced, funny, and even a little heartfelt. Plus, he uses the phrase 'lamentable ignorance of Rule 34' at one point, which did make me laugh out loud, so that's always a plus...
The 1960s saw the birth of the railway preservation movement, with lines like the Bluebell Railway flying the flag for this commemoration of the age of steam. Preservation efforts have been going on almost continuously ever since, and this is how the scene looked in the late 80s. With a revival of interest in the railways among young and old, new schemes were popping up all over the place, and the old guard were building upon the foundations they themselves laid all those years ago.
(Thomas is shunting a long line of trucks into a siding. He can't quite see the buffers, so Percy is helping to guide him in from an adjacent siding...)
Percy: Okay, back a bit... Back a bit further! Come on, you're doing alright... Left hand- Left hand down a bit! Left hand down a bit...!
Thomas: What exactly does that mean?
Percy: What's what mean?
Thomas: Left hand down a bit - what does it mean?
Percy: I don't know. I've just heard people saying it when they've been helping people to reverse lorries in the goods yard. Must mean something...
Thomas: I can't think what... How much further have I got to go?
Percy: Oh, you've got a few feet yet. Just keep coming...keep coming! C'mon, bit further! Bit further-
(Suddenly, the trucks impact against the buffers with an almighty BANG! Thomas stops sharply.)
Much of our nostalgia for the age of steam tends to focus on the glamour of the main line, or the nostalgic charm of the wandering country branch line. But steam engines also had their part to play in industry, bustling about on their own lines, and completely invisible to all except those in the know. It is only thanks to the efforts of enthusiasts, historians and filmmakers that this important part of our heritage has not been lost entirely.
Number: 47191 (D1841, pre-TOPS)
Class: BR Class 47 Co-Co
Built: 1965
First visted Sodor: Around 1980/81
Service on Sodor (Shed): NWR Utility (Crovan's Gate)
Livery: BR Diesel Blue
The NWR has seen its fair share of visiting BR engines over the years, and from the 1960s onwards, almost all of these have been diesels. Most of them simply stay for a night or two and then head home, without making much of an impression. A select few end up going native and joining the NWR's ranks. And then there are some who aren't permanent Sodor residents, but might as well be, considering how often they visit the island. Todd fits squarely into this last category.
Todd is one of a number of Class 47s who travels onto NWR metals on a regular basis - usually with trains he's brought from other BR regions. He generally stays on Sodor for a few days at a time, does any odd jobs that crop up, and then heads back to the Mainland - all without much in the way of fanfare or recognition. Not that Todd would know what to do with a thank you if he received one - the satisfaction of a job well done is reward enough for him, and as a 47, he's used to quietly going about his work without anyone taking any notice of him.
In fact, that seems to be what Todd's all about. Like most of his brothers and sisters (all five hundred-odd of them!), he's content to think of himself as one of the backroom boys - doing whatever work comes his way, going wherever that work takes him, and quietly going about it in the background, unseen and unsung. Not for him, the whole business of trying to stand out from the crowd.
But Todd does stand out, in his own small way. He's got a certain something which sets him apart from his siblings - a sort of charisma that makes it difficult not to like him. Even the most uptight or prejudiced engines can't help but befriend him after a short while. Todd also likes to keep busy, and can get restless if he's got nothing to do - which is probably why he's always taking on odd jobs whenever he's on Sodor.
Todd began life as D1841, and entered service in April 1965. He was allocated to Crewe North shed, from which he ran all manner of trains right across the north of England. For the first month of his life, Todd shared the shed with what few steam engines were still based there. Even so early on, he had a natural charisma, which allowed him to build up a good rapport with the steam engines in the short time they were around - something which was to stand Todd in good stead later on in his life.
Like with so many of his siblings, Todd's existence was to be one of remarkable consistency. For example, he has been based at Crewe for almost his entire life - I say almost, because he was inexplicably transferred to the Birmingham area for a few months in 1968, before returning to Crewe just as suddenly. His pattern of work has also remained much the same - travel to some distant depot, spend a night or two there, and then make his way back to Crewe.
If you were to ask Todd (as indeed we did), he'd be the first to admit that his early life wasn't all that exciting. In fact, the most interesting thing to happen to him, so he says, was when he was given his current number of 47191 under the TOPS scheme of the early-1970s. Oh yes, and there was that one time he was left idling in a siding during a trip working, and a fox somehow got into his rear cab and stole half his driver's lunch! It was a young tod that did the deed, and this is allegedly how 47191 came to be known as Todd.
Yes, very interesting stuff, but let's skip forward a bit to the winter of 1980/81, seeing as that was when Todd paid his first visit to the NWR. That day had seen him arriving at Vicarstown with an ordinary semi-fast service from Manchester, and handing the train over to an NWR engine - Todd remembers it being Henry - to complete the journey to Tidmouth. He'd then made his way to Crovan's Gate for refuelling and servicing - BR diesels having special permission to make use of NWR facilities when visiting Sodor.
As usual, Todd spent a couple of days hanging around Crovan's Gate, and this meant he was on hand to rescue James when his injectors failed just outside Ballahoo. His past rapport with steam engines came in useful here, as his friendly conversation with James played a great part in finally dispelling the red engine's longstanding prejudices against diesels. As a result of this encounter, James is now one of Todd's closest friends among the Sodor engines.
Todd left Sodor for home soon after, but one way or another, he just kept on coming back throughout most of the 80s. While not a constant presence, he returned just often enough that the Sodor engines began to recognise him, and got to know him better. He always stayed at Crovan's Gate during his visits, so the others affectionately referred to him as The Works Diesel - at least, until someone finally thought to ask what his actual name was!
As mentioned above, Todd was not the only 47 to visit Sodor on a regular basis - in fact, he was one of about half a dozen who frequently ventured onto NWR metals. This fact was frequently forgotten by the Sodor engines, who naturally had trouble telling at a glance just which one of the visiting diesels they were dealing with. Sometimes they would just guess, and end up being completely wrong - many was the time when an NWR engine would strike up a conversation with Todd, only to realise too late that they were actually talking to a Damien, or even a Gemma!
Todd, for his part, was always patient when correcting others and explaining how to tell him apart from his fellow 47s. (In short, it's all in the numbers - Todd is 47191, Gemma is 47166, Damien is 47304, and so on...) He often explained it in a strained voice, though, so we can assume it annoyed him just as much as it did the others - indeed, it's probably one of the only things to get under the skin of the otherwise-unflappable Todd.
Todd's visits to Sodor continued into the 1990s, but became more sporadic from about 1993 onwards. All we know about Todd's history after this point is what he's shared during his subsequent visits. In short, he was caught up in the madness of privatisation, and ended up with a spot-hire firm offering engines to freight operating companies on a short-term basis. One of these companies had a contract to run freight trains between Britain and Sodor, and it is while pulling some of these trains that Todd has made his most recent ventures onto NWR metals.
To this day, Todd remains a welcome sight - if not a regular one - on the rails of Sodor. He always enjoys catching up with the friends he's made there, and he is forever impressed by how much the island has managed to stay the same, even as the rest of the world has changed beyond recognition. The Sodor engines, too, are impressed by how much Todd has managed to stay the same: after all the changes he's witnessed and experienced, he's still the same friendly, charismatic, hard-working Todd they first got to know back in 1980 - one simply has to marvel at his consistency!
Trivia
As you might have worked out, Todd is my take on the unnamed Class 47 who helped change James' perception of diesels by coming to his aid in Deep Freeze, and turned up in a couple of other places. He's never been given an official name, which gives the fandom carte-blanche to call him whatever they like - the ERS, for instance, calls him Wendell. Most fans don't bother, though, simply referring to him as The Works Diesel.
Why did I go with Todd as a name? Well, I once read that the Class 47s are sometimes nicknamed Brushes after their manufacturer, and I thought, "Hmm, Brush is also the name for a fox's tail - so why don't I name all my Class 47 OCs after fictional foxes or fox-related individuals?" I loved this idea for two reasons: it helped narrow down the potential options to a manageable number, and it would allow me to indulge my weakness for terrible puns.
Tod, by the way, is a popular name for fictional foxes - it being the traditional term for a male fox - but I can't remember which one I specifically named this Todd after.
There was no real rhyme or reason to Todd specifically being 47191. My only requirements were that he was a bog-standard 47, based at Crewe around the time Deep Freeze takes place, and withdrawn early enough that I could extend his fictional history without clashing with real life - it took a lot of trawling through BRDatabase to find an example that fit the bill on all three counts.
Saturday Movie Night: Steam on the Isle of Man (1988)
We're going overseas for this week's video! Well, only as far out as the Isle of Man, but that's close enough. This small island is probably the closest we can get to a real-life Island of Sodor - it sits in the same part of the Irish Sea, and is just as jam-packed with railways. It's also resisted the mainland thrust of modernisation, preserving much of not only the old equipment and infrastructure, but also something of the spirit of the age of steam - which may also be the spirit of the Manxman.
Those of us who were fortunate enough to have experienced the age of steam have our fond memories of those days. For enthusiast Barry Smith, the fondest of these is of when steam trains meant holiday time - travelling on the Atlantic Coast Express between Waterloo Station and any number of coastal resorts. We follow Barry as he traces the old route between Waterloo and Exmouth - on a mix of steam, diesel and electric - to try and rekindle something of those happy holiday memories.
Some weeks ago, I shared a video exploring the West Highland Line, and the steam service which had only recently been reintroduced there a couple of years prior. Well, this is another look at the line, a couple of years on. Little had changed during that time: the steam services were still popular, the scenery was still rugged and spectacular, and the railwaymen still held the same pride in the job. There were one or two changes, of course - one of the biggest being the replacement of the old signalling system with the new-fangled Radio-Electronic Token Block system.
The Settle & Carlisle Railway traverses some of the most remote, dramatic corners of the Pennines. Its construction was a prodigious effort by some six thousand navvies, and one of the last main lines in Britain to be built by pick and shovel alone. It is a line of magnificent structures and stunning views...
...and throughout most of the 1980s, it was in danger of being closed. This action by British Rail proved controversial, to say the least, and a campaign was mounted to try and save the line. BR would abandon their plans in 1989 and keep the S&C open, but that was way in the future when this programme was made - exploring as it does what was at stake. One campaigner put it best: "This is England, and it's the best spirit of England - surely nobody who bats for Britain would want to get rid of this?!"
Saturday Movie Night: A Tale of Two Scotsmen (1986)
Is it a locomotive? Is it a train? Is it in fact a white elephant? The name Flying Scotsman means different things to different people, and in this, the final episode of Steam Days, Miles Kington seeks to clear up at least some of the confusion. With the help of railway film archivist John Huntley, we learn the history of Flying Scotman the train, and then move on to the history of Flying Scotsman the engine - including her disastrous American tour, and her repatriation to Britain in the nick of time.
Our old friend Miles Kington grew up in close proximity to the old Great Western Railway, and unsurprisingly, he carried a little of that bias into adulthood. This week sees him tracking the history of his beloved GWR as he travels from Bristol to the furthest reaches of that great railway empire aboard a succession of steam railtours.
Throughout the age of steam, the various railway companies were constantly pulling out all the stops to convince prospective passengers that they were the best means of getting them from A to B - and one way of doing that was to make their trains run faster than anyone else's. Miles Kington tracks the history of this arms race between engineers, from the venerable old Stirling Single, to the ton-up boy they call the City of Truro (with a good-natured dispute about the validity of its record), finishing with the undisputed champion of them all, Mallard!
One of the NWR’s biggest achievements in recent years has been the extension of the Arlesburgh branch all the way up to the fishing town of Harwick. This ambitious project was completed in 1986, and was the final realization of a plan which had taken seventy years to come into fruition. However, this extension was not the first railway to reach Harwick. That honour went to an equally ambitious scheme to link this isolated part of Sodor with the island's heartland - the Cronk & Harwick Railway.
In the 1850s, the tiny fishing village of Harwick was in the middle of an economic slump. The people of the Ooyre Valley had long supported themselves with a lucrative smuggling trade, but this had recently been suppressed by the authorities, and there was almost nothing in the way of legitimate work to fall back on. Something had to be done if poverty and unrest were to be avoided.
At that time, the first railways were being built on Sodor, and someone suggested that Harwick should have one of its own - it would help bring money to the area, and provide honest work for the people. A scheme was drawn up which would see a line running from Harwick, up the Ooyre Valley, and then swinging south to the nearest major settlement, the fort town of Peel Godred. There, it would link with the rest of Sodor via a line which had already been proposed by the fledgling Sodor & Mainland Railway.
The Cronk & Harwick Railway Company, as the scheme became known, was formed in 1855, and construction began right away. Naturally, they started at the Harwick end, constructing a stone pier where goods could be exchanged between ships and wagons. The stone came from a new quarry at Droghan-y-Claghan, about six miles up the valley...
...And therein lay a problem. The new railway had been planned following the route of an existing road between Harwick and Peel Godred, with gradients deemed suitable for both horses and steam locomotives. However, the line had been forced to diverge from the road at one point a mile or so out of Harwick, and the new route took it up a much steeper gradient.
Above and Below: The top and bottom ends of Sheep Pasture Incline, on the Cromford & High Peak Railway in Derbyshire. The incline on the C&HR was worked to very much the same principles.
The solution in this case was a rope-worked incline, up and down which wagons could be raised and lowered. Initially, only a single line was laid, with the hauling power provided by a stationary steam engine at the top. In later years, though, the incline track was doubled, and it became more common to use descending loaded wagons to haul ascending empties.
The C&HR extended eastward in a piecemeal fashion throughout the 1860s, and by 1870 had reached the hamlet of Cregwir. It had also become clear by now, though, that the Sodor & Mainland Railway was on the verge of bankruptcy, and unlikely to get around to building its promised branch line to Peel Godred. By this time, the narrow gauge Mid Sodor Railway was making an effort to reach the town, and the C&HR decided to forge ahead with construction, in the hopes that they could build an interchange station.
The 1870s also saw the opening of a roadside tramway between Harwick and Ballaswein. This used the existing C&HR line for its first mile or so, diverging to the north just before Harwick Bottom, the yard at the base of the incline. At this stage, the tramway was worked by horse-drawn vehicles, as indeed was the rest of the C&HR network.
Above: The Harwick & Ballaswein Tramway used double-decker tramcars somewhat akin to this example on the Douglas Bay Horse Tramway, over on the neighbouring Isle of Man.
It was not until the 1880s that money became available for steam engines to be introduced to the C&HR. The Harwick Incline had effectively split the line into two sections, and the motive power considerations were different for each. For the lower section, it was decided that two tram engines would suffice - one to work the Ballaswein Tramway, and the other to haul wagons between the Incline and the Pier.
Above: C&HR #1, Flora - the first of the two tram engines, and now the only surviving C&HR engine. Seen here in her heritage livery, circa 1980.
To this end, the C&HR ordered two engines from Thomas Green & Sons of Leeds, to a specification not unlike a pair they'd recently supplied to the Dundee & District Tramway. Both engines arrived on Sodor in 1885, and began work later that same year. C&HR #1 was named Flora, after a Roman goddess of spring. #2 should have been named Chloris - Flora's Greek equivalent - but there was apparently a miscommunication, and she ended up being named Clarice instead!
When it came to the upper section, only one engine was deemed necessary for the moment - with the possibility of more being acquired once the Peel Godred extension was complete. The C&HR turned to the second-hand market for this engine, purchasing a Black Hawthorn 0-4-0ST from parts unknown. This became the railway's #3, and gained the name Zanthus (after one of the horses he was to replace - who was himself named after an immortal horse in Greek mythology).
Above: Zanthus bears a striking resemblence to this 1874 machine, Bauxite No.2, now preserved at York. The coach, too, looks not unlike the two supplied to the C&HR.
The seller also offered the C&HR a pair of ancient four-wheeled coaches, which they accepted with the intention of establishing dedicated passenger services on the upper section. These plans never really came to fruition, though - the closest they got was using the coaches as guard's vans on goods trains, and allowing passengers to hitch a lift if they needed one (for a small fee, obviously).
The stage was now set for the two halves of the C&HR to settle into the pattern of life they would enjoy for the remainder of their existence. Flora and Clarice handled the lower section together, with one engine carrying passengers between Harwick and Ballaswein, and the other hauling wagons between the Pier and Harwick Bottom.
Meanwhile, Zanthus had sole charge of the upper section. His main duties were hauling loaded stone wagons from the two quarries to Harwick Top, and bringing back the empties. The level of traffic in the area was such that he had no problem also carrying general goods, or even the odd passenger. The line as a whole paid its way, but only just...
All the while, the C&HR continued extending towards Peel Godred, progressing bit by bit as money and materials allowed. To their credit, they actually got surprisingly far - by 1914, they were only two or three miles away from their goal. I mention this year specifically because that was of course when the North Western Railway was formed, as an amalgamation of most of the existing standard gauge lines on Sodor - with the exception of the Cronk & Harwick line, which remained independent.
The NWR had intended to build their own line up the coast to Harwick, as a strategic railway during the First World War, but by the time they’d reached Arlesburgh, the immediate threat had passed, so that was where the line stopped. Other projects took priority, and one of these was to finally construct the S&MR's proposed branch line to Peel Godred, which was completed in 1923.
Above and Below: NWR #1, Thomas (with Annie & Clarabel) on a railtour along the C&HR line, some time in the 1980s. The producers of the television series took inspiration from the line when designing their version of Toby's old tramway. These views are a few miles north of Peel Godred.
The NWR still wanted to reach Harwick somehow, and upon hearing about the C&HR's line, entered into talks with the smaller company. Terms were soon agreed: the NWR would complete the last bit of track, in exchange for being allowed running powers over the C&HR network. They were as good as their word - they built the last couple of miles of track into Peel Godred, and expanded their station there to accommodate the new line. At the other end of the line, they built a new line which diverged from the existing line at Droghan-y-Claghan, bypassed the Incline, and travelled into Harwick on a gradient much more suitable for steam engines. The work was completed in 1925, and the results were...
...Disappointing, in the long run. The NWR didn't gain much from the endeavour apart from access to Harwick itself. Even this wasn't quite as successful as hoped - the route was long, arduous and convoluted, its isolated nature made it unpopular with engines who had to use it, and NWR trains often had to stop and make way for those on the C&HR - and their timetables were...relaxed, to put it mildly.
Above: Another view of Thomas on the C&HR, on the same railtour. I forgot to include it on my map, but this is Black Loch - I imagine this is at the opposite end of the loch from Callan Castle.
By the 1930s, things were not so rosy for the C&HR either. The last few years had seen the rise of motor vehicles, and these had gradually taken away what little traffic the line still carried. It started with the motor buses, which killed off the Ballaswein Tramway in 1933 - effectively turning the lower section into a goods-only line.
Then came the really fatal blow, in the form of the motor lorries. This did for the stone traffic, and in 1935, the Cronk & Harwick Railway finally shut its doors for good - with rolling stock, track and infrastructure all being sold to the NWR. There was very little they could do for the line, and it's most likely that, had it not been for the outbreak of war in 1939, they would have abandoned the line much sooner than they actually did.
As it was, the War gave the C&H line a brief reprieve, when it provided a vital rail link to a small naval base established at Harwick. This reprieve only lasted as long as hostilities did, and as soon as it was all over, the NWR finally made the reluctant decision to pull the plug. By 1947, the line had been completely abandoned, but the tracks were left in situ, just in case - a decision that was to pay dividends years later...
The story of the C&HR ends there, and does not pick up again until the late 1960s, when the NWR successfully reopens its branch line to Arlesburgh. This had prompted discussion within NWR circles regarding the possibility of extending the branch up the coast to Harwick, as had been intended in 1916. At the same time, though, there had also been growing pressure from the people of the Ooyre Valley to reinstate the old Cronk & Harwick line. Ultimately, the latter course of action was decided upon, as a short-term means of reaching Harwick by rail until the coastal line could be constructed.
Restoring the line itself was relatively straightforward, at least compared to the problem of finding sources of traffic - and motive power to handle it. The quarry companies had long switched over to lorries, and not too bothered about taking their business back to the railways - and there was almost no other goods traffic to fall back on. This meant that the line would have to cater entirely to passengers, but there were hardly enough of them to fill even a single coach.
Above: The observation saloons mentioned in the next paragraph - shown here in this undated view, being temporarily stored in the private siding of O.L King Coal Merchants, Ffarquhar.
The solution to both problems came rather by chance. During the line's restoration, Sir Topham Hatt had placed a pair of the NWR's observation saloons at the disposal of the gangers, to allow them to easily travel between worksites. Unfortunately, this restoration took place during 1968/69, at which time railtours and enthusiasts' specials were becoming popular on the rest of the network. The saloons were frequently in demand for these specials, and the workmen in charge of the C&H restoration were increasingly having to make do with whatever other coaches could be spared (to say nothing of the problem of having to roster an engine to pull them).
In response to this, Sir Topham Hatt made arrangements with British Rail to have a railbus loaned to the NWR to replace the saloons on the C&H project. BR had recently introduced these railbuses - smaller versions of their existing railcars and multiple units - on many of their lesser-used rural lines, and they'd helped enormously in helping to keep certain lines open. I'm sure you can see where this is going - Sir Topham Hatt realised that a railbus was exactly what was needed for the C&H line.
Above: A BR Park Royal railbus, of the same type as NWR #D5 Sheridan. This example is working on the Ayr & Dalmellington line in Scotland - the sort of isolated, sparsely-populated line these railbuses were designed for.
Sheridan - for that was this particular railbus' name - was duly taken into NWR stock, becoming the railway's number D5. With his help, the C&H restoration was complete by the beginning of 1969, at which point he took on the running of the passenger service between Harwick and Peel Godred. For this, Sheridan proved to be ideally suited - he could carry just the right number of passengers, had additional space to carry parcels and small goods, and he was even fitted with automatic folding steps, which allowed him to stop between stations to let people on and off closer to their homes.
The reopening of the C&H line did not exactly create an economic boom in the Harwick area, but it did help revive the area's fortunes in a small way. It was now easier for the people of the Ooyre Valley to travel to other parts of Sodor, and Sudrians were likewise better able to reach the scattered settlements to the north of their island - this area has largely been overlooked by mainland visitors, and so is a popular holiday destination for Sudrians looking to get away from it all.
Because of its remote location and low-key existence, the C&H line has not seen as many changes as on the rest of the NWR network. That's not to say it hasn't changed at all, of course, so let's finish this article by looking at a couple of the developments which have occurred in recent years.
Above: A picture of the Bowes Railway near Newcastle, an incline railway now operating as a heritage concern - pretty similar to how I imagine the Harwick Top Railway.
The late 1970s, for instance, saw the formation of the Harwick Top Trust, a band of enthusiasts who set up an industrial heritage centre at the yard of that name. As well as restoring the incline for demonstration purposes, they also reopened a stretch of the old goods line, running from Harwick Top itself to a point just outside Droghan-y-Claghan.
Above: Flora on running-in trials following her restoration in 1980. Alongside is the NWR's own #1, Thomas, and both are standing in the station at Great Waterton - itself newly-restored at this time.
The enthusiasts also managed to restore Flora, by now the only surviving engine from the old C&HR. Following the line's initial closure, she'd been put on static display in Harwick Park, along with one of her tram coaches. Both were purchased by the HTT in 1978, and restored to working order over the next two years. When the work was completed in 1980, the NWR generously allowed Flora's running-in trials to be carried out on their metals - this neatly doubled as a promotional tool for the fledgling HTR.
Below: Flora and her tram coach, circa 1980. The Sodor Tramways signs should of course actually read Ballaswein Tramway - although in HTR service, the coach carries a rotating selection of vintage advertisements sourced from old Sodor Roadways buses.
The next major development to affect the C&HR was the long-awaited extension of the Arlesburgh branch up the coast to Harwick. This was completed in 1986, a good seventy-odd years after this rail link to Harwick had first been proposed. For the most part, this did not physically affect the running of the C&H line - save for several agonizing weeks where Sheridan had to work around the major upgrade Harwick station received to accommodate the new line.
Below: The upgraded Harwick station, as it appears in the television series. While heavily simplified, the broad strokes of the layout have been preserved. The rightmost track is the through line to the C&HR.
In fact, the only serious effects on the C&H line were to be felt in its timetable - this being rewritten so that Sheridan provided a guaranteed connection with services at Harwick as well as Peel Godred. Although he was not a fast railbus by any means, he still provided the quickest way of travelling between those two settlements, which meant the line's importance did not diminish with the coming of the Arlesburgh branch extension.
Above: Treeton Colliery, South Yorkshire - purely because I needed a picture of a modern-looking colliery for this final section. Below: Ditto for this picture of Calder Hall nuclear power station. I know it's not a modular reactor, but shush...!
In the late-80s/early-90s, the railways around Harwick rose to even greater importance thanks to two major Sudrian developments. Firstly, a new modular nuclear power plant was constructed on the site of the long-closed quarry at Droghan-y-Claghan. Around the same time, vast untapped deposits of coal were discovered beneath Sodor's northernmost coastline, and the first shafts were sunk close to the site of the former Cregwir Quarry. Obviously, this necessitated the restoration and upgrading of both the old quarry lines.
Needless to say, both these developments have resulted in a major growth in traffic for the C&H line. While passenger numbers have increased, they remain just about enough for Sheridan to cope with on his own. Should the need arise, though, he is occasionally aided by other engines: either Valiant or Violet from the Arlesburgh end; and either Clarence or Callum from the Peel Godred end. From the late-80s onward, it has become just as common for other engines to visit the area on railtours - be they fellow NWR engines or mainland visitors.
Above: Vulcan, a sister engine to NWR #13 Valiant. Not exactly the best picture, but it was the only one I could find of this type of engine pulling trucks!
Speaking of Valiant, she was actually originally brought to Sodor with the working of the Arlesburgh-Harwick line in mind, and her duties now extend along the C&H line to what is now known as Cregwir Colliery. From here, she hauls trainloads of coal down the Little Western to Tidmouth, for further distribution across Sodor and beyond.
The only other major goods traffic on the line is nuclear waste from the power plant at Droghan-y-Claghan, and this was initially transported by NWR #D22 Chopper. He would carry one or two flask wagons all the way to Barrow-in-Furness, where a pair of BR diesels would take them the rest of the way to the processing centre at Sellafield. From 1995 onwards, though, Direct Rail Services took over the transport of nuclear materials by rail, and now only their diesels are allowed to handle this traffic.
Below: This view is not unlike that of nuclear flask operations on Sodor post-1995 - a pair of DRS-owned diesels (Class 20s, in this case) hauling a couple of flask wagons.
Such has the pattern of life on the old C&HR remained to this day, and this seems a good place to bring this breakdown of its history to a close. And what a history it's been. We started with a valley filled with smugglers and ne'er-do-wells, with ambitions to pull themselves out of the gutter and join up with their fellow Sudrians. And against all the odds, we've finished with them having achieved their goal - maybe not quite in the way they'd intended, but then again, it seems to be part of the Sudrian character to take everything that life throws at them, make the best of it, and somehow come out on top in the end.
