Shift working

Working on the Separator floor (& others including the Condensery) meant 6 day, 3 shifts.

Nights, afternoons, mornings with one day off a week, agreed by consent with the others on the shift.

Quick changeover:

Nights:          Start Monday night 10:00pm. finish 6:24am Sunday.

Afternoons:   Start Sunday 2:00pm. finish Saturday 10:24pm.

Mornings:     Start Sunday 06:00am. finish Friday 2:24pm.

Long weekend:

                      Friday afternoon, Saturday, Sunday, start again Monday night.

Start nights:   Monday night 10:00pm. 

 

1972. The Blogger in pensive mood:
 Just home from a night shift.

The clocking in office, situated on the left by the end of the main building housing the laboratories, doubled as the wages office, paid on Thursdays to employees who were not salary.

A bonus, it has to be said, was that usually a young female member of the office staff, accompanied by the wages clerk, was on hand to give out the wage packets .We all had our favourites but I won't declare mine here.

In 1969 a worker did not get an adult wage until he or she was twenty one years old.

My 21st birthday would be in just under three months from the date I started.

Even so and with six-day working, I was delighted to get my first wage packet which was considerably more than the measly £5 a week earned in a shop and, before that, a bank.

OVERTIME:

It occurred to me to make a mention about overtime. In these early days there were times when, perhaps as a result of sickness, management would ask if operatives would do an extra shift. Of course, the extra cash would come in handy but often it was done in the spirit of helping out.

I specifically remember, after a double shift which happened to coincide with the two Bignall brothers working extra time in the Condensery, that on the way home in their car,

discussing overtime,  Phil Bignall remarked that he felt he wanted to help out. 

We all agreed. It was a kind of kin-ship. We felt we wanted to be seen as a part of the whole business. 

It was one aspect that made the place special. Many worked together. Teamwork.

Remembering Ron Bignall.

PAY:

a few examples from my employment history:

Pay slip November 1984
(from the Bob Friendship collection)

P60 for tax year 1972-73.
(From the Bob Friendship collection)

from the Bob Friendship collection.
....my first payslip. There was some overtime in this one.
Single persons yearly tax allowance about £90 per annum,
Income Tax £33 for every £100 after that. Something like that anyway.

Ad, circa 1973, courtesy Paul Martin

Paul "Fuzzy" Martin - 1979

Of course, 50 years on, it doesn't look much but the dairy was close behind Appledore Dockyard as regards wages in 1969 and Dartington Glass was also in the top three for wages.

 To try and put it into perspective for the newcomer petrol was 0.33p a gallon in decimal money or 6/6 (six shillings & sixpence) in pre-decimal currency, which represents just over 0.7p a litre in todays money.

A good weekly wage was £25. Before house prices rocketed in the early '70's it was possible to buy a small house for around £5,000. A new Triumph Herald or Mini would have set you back about £700.

A pint of beer would set you back roughly 11p.

Historically Torridge Vale had not always enjoyed the reputation I extol here. Up until the mid - 60's the place was often referred to as "China Town" and wages were only improved as a result of several strikes, from before the Second World War and after. Photos can be found on Torrington Museum web site or at the museum and also from the page here on my Blog.

Torrington museum Photos

My Dad & I kept racing pigeons and routine cleaning of the loft meant an ever-increasing pile of pigeon manure in the garden.

It seemed to me that there might be some supplementary funds to be made from the sale of the manure.

Accordingly I contrived a flyer which I pinned up in the clocking-in office, an image of how it went, more-or-less, below.

"Sh-it" did not go down well!

The establishment were not best pleased. As far as I recall, supervisor Colin Popham asked me, politely, to remove it.

I was now a marked man.

I was not about to become a Manure Mogul after all.

Still, dear old Ron Glover (Anhydro packing) bought two bags at 3/6d a bag and declared that he was well-pleased with the results. Ron and his wife Molly, who also worked at the dairy, lived at Buckland Brewer. Nice folk they were too.

The routine:

Morning shift:

During winter months when the milk intake was smaller, (no fresh green grass) the morning shift would arrive on the Separator floor on the hour and take over from the night shift who would have 24 minutes past the finishing hour to do this and change out of their work clothes before clocking out.

This extra time also made up the working week hours, 49 and a half hours a week.

Sometimes the first order of the day would be for one person to make the tea, a job done in Bridge House, a building away across the yard, and knocked down in the '80's as far as I remember. The night shift would also use this building and quite often when the light was switched on the floor would be awash with Cockroaches all scuttling away to hide. 

Bridge House - one day it was gone!

Bridge House included offices for the Transport Manager

The sheds below housed Fred Gullicks tyre shop as I recall.

The Roller Powder Milk Tanks - 3000 gallon capacity.

6 Roller tanks were positioned in the gaps at the back of the photo.

When the tea break was over one of the shift would clean the Roller tanks. You would get your Bakelite or stainless bucket, throw in a measure of "Yellow Soap", arm yourself with a long-handled broom and set about undoing the tank door using a heavy brace spanner to undo the two large brass nuts that secured the door.

Once open, brush and soap and a Pirelli steam hose set with warm water placed inside, the access was just large enough to allow a person to squeeze through, arms and shoulders first then, keeping the body taught with straight legs to avoid nasty shin scrapes, you slid yourself into the tank.

On a cold winters morning, (the departments were well ventilated), inside these tanks was the place to be excepting, of course, if you were spotted by, usually, one David Clarke, who worked upstairs in the Condensery. He would take great delight in using his Pirelli hose to inject a good squirt over you through the top access hole in the tank, ducking back before you could direct your own hose in his direction.

Dave Clarke, he was handy with a Pirelli hose!
Remembering Dave Clarke.

and from the top, 2007. Dave Clarkes' Pirelli hose lays dormant.

Storage Tanks that became Roller Tanks by 1969.
Photo: Torrington Museum.

These tanks were quite old. In earlier times they had been used for milk reception. The door mechanisms were worn so that you would have to lift the door, complete with heavy duty rubber seal, back into exactly the right position after cleaning.

If the doors were not refitted correctly you found out once refilling commenced and emergency action was required to re-fit the door if large quantities of milk was not to be lost to the drains.

The clean process usually took an hour and a half finishing just before 8 o'clock for breakfast.

Other pre start-up preps included checking the state/cleaning of the large silos outside, making them ready for storage of milk whether fresh or skimmed and that the two reception tanks upstairs were full of fresh milk ready for the separators to start morning processing before the days milk was available from the New Milk Dock.

a typical reception type tank, with the access steps - all that's left now.

Breakfast and start up.

This was staggered. Two or three would go to the canteen at 8 o'clock and the chargehand at 8:30 after he had the machinery up and running.

These machines, cleaned and sterilized by the night shift, would take about 10 minutes to run up to operating speed.

Milk would start arriving by churn lorry at the New Milk Dock by about 8 o'clock. The Milk Reception Dock foreman would telephone the Separator floor to say they were ready to start the pumps. 

The panel with buttons.

With the connecting pipework set, two red buttons were pressed sounding a Klaxon in the Dock and the pumps would commence around 9 o'clock sending new fresh milk to two 3000 gallon tanks located on the next floor up, adjacent to the Condensery. Fresh milk arriving from the Dock would be pasteurized to kill pathogenic (harmful) bacteria in the product. Milk would be passed through the heat exchangers where it would be flash heated to 70 degrees C. then cooled before continuing to the separation process. Coolant in the pasteurizer was Brine.

a typical pasteurizer.

If the brine was turned on too much and too quickly the pasteurizer would freeze causing milk to blow out under pressure from between the plates.

a typical pasteurizer plate with rubber gasket.

 If you were standing beside or opposite you would get a good soaking of milk, much to the merriment of your co-workers.

One of the first operations after breakfast was to adjust the Separators to provide the correct fat content cream for making Clotted Cream This was directed to a smallish  square vat, about 200 gallon capacity, that stood on a metal support base just inside the entrance to the department.

Fat content, if I remember, was 61.5%  but later was reduced to 58% and down further to about 53% though I'm not sure of the last figure.

Other cream was sent to the vat room next door for Double Devon bottled cream. Cream for Butter Making was directed upstairs to three (?) upright tanks, about 3000 gallon capacity, adjacent to the tank room, site of the six roller tanks.

Butter Cream fat content for this product was about 38.5%. 

Testing for the various fat output was the responsibility of lab staff from the Manufacturing Lab.

Back on the Separator floor, operatives such as myself would be tasked to control the direction of the skimmed milk produced by the separators and storage of fresh milk intake.

Silos 1 and 2 were beside the lift, (behind the green roof parapet) capacity 15,000 gallons, either skimmed or raw milk product.

Out across the yard were silos 3,4 and 5, capacity, each, 25,000 gallons.

Number three was generally used to hold skimmed milk.

As far as I recall, 4 & 5 were for fresh milk intake, either from the Dock or, in the mid-to-late 70's on, for unloading bulk tankers as churns were phased out. In the '80's a sixth silo was erected.

If I had the chance I'd catch Bulk Tanker driver Jack Sutton and get a tray of a dozen of his super Duck eggs for around 5 shillings (25p). Don't s'pose you could buy one egg for that price today. 

Real character was Jack. 

 Top & Bottom, winter 1981.

Stephan Poluha on the left and who lived at Taddiport, is holding the suction pipe whilst foreman supervisor John "Jed" Davis is on the right. Kevin Knight, with the hat, is outside the office. I think Ron Earle is in the trailer behind the 4 wheel drive tractor.

Remembering David "Singer" Hearn.
Photo courtesy Eddie Heath, circa 1972

How I remember him.

 Singer taken in his heyday loading and unloading tankers 

and often down at the station loading milk. 

A great workmate, he could make you laugh anytime!

Me: " Ok, Singer?"

Singer: " Awright Rubbercock?" 

"You gotta 'ave pleny o' Roast Beef, Cebeez (Sleep) & DickyDido!"

Don't you just love that??

With snow on the ground, farmers brought their milk when Bulk Tankers could not reach their farms.

Farmers making their way to and from the dairy.
photo: Bob Friendship collection.

Early am. 1981, taken from the Bacti Lab fire escape.
photo: Bob Friendship collection

and on a better day in 1972
Note the Buckingham Arms, formerly run by
Jimmy  & Brenda Horrell,
 still has the ("Starkeys") logo on the wall.
The cars as viewable are:
Foreground: a Mini and an Austin/Morris 1100,
and against the wall:
1953 Standard Vanguard, 1952 Austin Somerset & 1966(?) Triumph Herald.

In principle, the procedures of the morning shift, once under way, were carried on throughout the afternoon shift which was making sure that the product, whether skim, buttercream or full cream milk, was being routed to the appropriate storage vessel and to be ready to switch to another vessel/silo/tank as they became full.

Included were three tanks upstairs above the Cream Vat room, 18, 19 and 20, all 3000 gallon vessels. These were days before automated systems although during the late 1970's and on, modern systems were gradually built into the production processes thus reducing wastage in many instances and streamlining production and reducing costs.

There were many instances where, especially with regard to skimmed milk, froth would arrive at the top of the silo/tank well before it was indicated (by way of calibrated dials) and quantities of said froth would cascade out of the top of a silo or tank, raining down to its base and causing considerable embarrassment to the chap in charge of  this procedure necessitating swift application of a Pirelli hose to try and wash the mess away before it came to the attention of any lurking foremen or supervisors.

 I was guilty on several occasions!

From my own perspective I always looked forward to Morning Shift. The highlight was that after 9 o'clock various young women would come to the floor to take samples. Members of the Farmers lab would sample churns of milk containing Channel Island grade milk, usually about 4% fat, also known when bottled as Gold Top, this more especially available during summer months when the land grew lush grass containing higher levels of nutrients and  Carotene (Vitamin A) and was gathered from the brown & white Jersey breed of cattle. These churns, 8-12 or more, were dealt with by one Bill Brown.

Bill was probably in his late 50's at that time. One time my mate Freddie (Fred Sanders that is) acquired a black 2" rubber pipe sealing ring and, walking up behind Bill, clapped his hand on Bills' shoulder saying "Alright Beal", (laughing) and attached said rubber ring (with glue) to the unsuspecting Bills' right shoulder.

"Beal thinks he's a Jeep" exclaimed Freddie. We both fell about laughing.

However, when Bill went to the canteen for his cuppatea and was made aware of his "spare wheel - Jeep fashion", he was not at all amused and gave us both a ticking-off. 

Poor old Bill.

So, back to the ladies from the Labs.

At that fair age of 20 (and beyond) I admit to being allured by young women. To qualify that I mean I just liked women. That's fair enough I think.

Their presence inspired some kind of performance, on my part, to be brought to their attention. What to do? Goofing around was one thing, how to expand on that to get them to laugh?

Looking about the place, there wasn't much in the way of  Props. There was, I devised, one way to experiment with.

There was a gallery between the separator floor and Condensery, around which were railings, long since removed. However, across this gallery was a single metal tube.

I named it "Bobs pole". I will explain.

Looking up, left, and down, right. Bobs' pole.

 After a few trials I discovered I could climb over the railings, upstairs on the Condensery floor, stand a Wellington boot on the pole, crouch down, move off the pole and grab at the pipework below on the Separator floor, swinging about, letting myself down, eventually dropping to my floor below.

The trick was to time the Goof just as females from the lab arrived through the department doors below.

I can remember looks on faces with suppressed smiles as if to say "Bledy vool." Still, it was good fun and, sometimes, had the desired effect. One time, though, the pipework was being circulated with very hot sterilant and a quick let-go was necessary. Fortunately no damage was done.

Afternoon Shift, 2-10pm.

There isn't much to say about the 2-10 shift really. Work continued as on the morning shift except that, during the winter months when there was less milk to process, most afternoon shifts ran the milk out so that the machinery could be shut down, dismantled and cleaned and sterilised. This was a big help for the following night shift as, in many cases, the hard work had been done.

During the summer months separating could go on until 1 or 2 in the morning and you had to get on with the job of dismantling, cleaning and re-assembling the separators, tanks, silos ready for the morning shift.

I enjoyed the business of stripping the separators. There was friendly competition between us as we strived to get the work done as quickly as possible.

Each of us wore a waterproof apron and, with the machine locked, the pipework and covers were removed exposing the inner cover which was lifted off by means of an overhead electric hoist, used also to lift the plate unit, all parts of which were placed on a wooden trolley and separated into individual components. The gunge removed from the bowl during the separation process was scooped out and dumped in a black rubber bin.

The bowl and some associated parts were cleaned using a hand brush, water and Dilac was added as a sterilant post cleaning.

All parts removed from the units were loaded into a large water filled vat to which was added a half bucket of caustic soda. The water was then brought to the boil by running steam into it.

Much care was required when adding caustic to a bucket of water. If you don't know, water and caustic soda react furiously, boiling rapidly, and there were occasions when accidents happened.

Workers knew just what to do in such an emergency and injuries were minimalized by their quick response when help was needed. It was very much a team effort.

The factory had a first aid room on the ground floor of the new building. 

I once spent the night in it after a family row. 

               

Internal plates

Tools - of course.

Night Shift, 10pm-6am.

Coming on night shift during the winter as described above meant that, quite often, there were only a few small jobs to do and it was quite often the case that tea would be brewed anywhere between 11:30 and 1:00am and the shift workers would migrate to the changing room, settling on piles of dirty overalls, chomping sandwiches and drinking tea.

If there was nothing pressing to do it was usual to settle down and get some "Shuteye".

I would lie on a bench and strap myself to the wire guard division using my belt to help prevent falling off. 

It was not always successful though.

Sometimes the charge hand would say "Get away 'ome bowye, I'll clock 'e out." and some of us did just that.

In fact I was stopped, driving home in my beaten-up Simca Aronde, by the police on two occasions and had some difficulty explaining what I was about. I got fed up after the second occasion and rang the Barnstaple police station to complain to the duty sergeant.

I wasn't stopped again.

Work and Play.

There was opportunity to mess about after work and tea. In 1970 the dairy had only two new Bedford bulk tankers. On more than one occasion Freddie and myself would take one each and have a race down through the dairy. Freddie would drive his tanker out on the main road and back again on the bottom entrance used by the churn lorries. Now we would race to see who got to the fitters shop first. Usually Freddie won, roaring around the bend by the fitters shop and whizzing out in front of me.

There was always something to be at if the work was finished and you stayed your shift.

One time the head gasket blew on Freddies' Ford Anglia. Parked in an empty shed next to Fred Gullicks tyre workshop and, over a couple of nights, I helped Fred fix his car.

Sorted!

Other times the pair of us would explore other means of amusement.

There were a number of electric pallet trucks and, one particular night, choosing one of these we did a tour of the site.

Being for pedestrian use, the operator would pull the devices' handle toward him, press either forward or reverse buttons and execute the proposed manoeuvre.

These trucks had an hydraulic system for raising and lowering the forks.

a similar truck as mentioned.

 Standing on the forks, one behind the other, the "driver" (Freddie usually) with myself holding on, would raise us up a bit then set the thing in motion by a forward push on the control and a squeeze on the Go button.

Off we set, down the main drag, up the hill past Anhydro packing, along the top road to West Store and then..... sharp left across the cattle grid and up to the main office.

Now these trucks only have small wheels making the crossing of a cattle grid "interesting" but even better was coming down the steep slope and back across the said cattle grid.

Not designed for the descent of steep slopes and with no brakes excepting when the handle was released, electricity was being generated by the forward motion and we were surprised and amused by the firework display coming out of the operating handle.

Still, we made it back to base.

Another time, after tea and grub, about 12:30am., we commandeered the older of the two Lansing Bagnal butter tractors and went for a mosey.

Electric, weight about 3 tons, similar to our Tractor.

Down to the far end of the dairy site, just beyond the Fitters Shop, there was about-to-be-built new garage for the maintenance of the lorries.

However, the concrete raft for access to this proposed site had not yet been laid leaving a rough, uneven surface.

Freddie and I carried on in our Butter Tractor, driving off the concrete and onto the fore-mentioned rough ground.

It has to be said that we had not considered the use of the little tractor for off-roading.

That term had yet to be invented.

We had only gone the length of the tractor when it became jammed on a stone.

What to do?

First we borrowed one of the two electric milk floats used by the fitters. On board was a heavy duty hook and chain. Handy!

not designed for towing - or racing!

Connecting the two with a "view to a tow" didn't work. The milk float was not heavy enough for the job.

Problem. What next?

We returned the milk float to the fitters shop and tried Stan Shorts' empty 1500 gallon Bedford milk tanker. Coupled by means of the fitters hook and chain we gave it a try.

The tanker wasn't having it, with the rear bouncing up and down as the tyres skidded on the concrete. It was too light.

Some scratching of heads!

Back to the loading bay, two or three hoses thrust in the tanker, we waited for an hour whilst filling the lorry.

All this time, no one seemed aware of our movements. Good Show!

Time was going on. We got the butter tractor back on Terra Firma at about 5 o'clock, just in time to get back on the 'floor for morning start up procedure.

"Wear ve bin to, you pair o' monkeys?" enquired charge hand Bob Cudmore.

We left Shorty's wagon with the drain cock opened, leaving it to drain before being needed later that day. 

Out of his slumber and office came night foreman Derek Ward. I remember him scratching his head, asking what all the traffic noise was about.

PHEW!

50 years on, I remember it as if it were yesterday.

....to be continued....