No
guts in this engine!
As
any one who has read “The Greystone Phenomenon 2” will know, we were given
our own trailer mounted pump. It was our most prized possession. Kid glove
treatment was the order of the day as far as that little beauty went.
One
day, not too long after we’d got the pump, a job arose at the airfield tank
farm that was made for the pump.
By
this time, we’d increased our transport fleet by the tune of one old Austin 1
Tonner. It was a brilliant old vehicle. It could outrun the “Snowdrop’s”
vehicles by at least 10 mph. It had an open back that could carry all passengers
and requirements for a 16 man “Bondoo” run, so it was always in great
demand.
The
other very useful feature was a towing hook. Not the type you find on military
vehicles now, with a quick release catch on top to form a very secure closure.
This one had a catch that when closed only covered half the opening .
Yorkie
and I decided that an early start would be in order, so at first light off to
the Port tank farm we went to get all our requirements loaded and hook up the
trailer.
When
we put the trailer’s towing eye over the hook we were both a little
apprehensive about how secure it would be. Had to take care of our little baby.
Solution
to security problem, get a long steel rope we had in the store and tie it on
with that just to make sure. Off we go, lashing this steel rope round and round
the tow hook until we were sure that only another Nuke could move it. The
remaining 10-15 feet of the “rope” was slung into the back of the truck.
In
the Wheelie and away we go. Lovely morning if I remember. Pinky coloured sun
just peeping over the horizon, lovely and cool with the wind blowing through the
open windows, gentle hum of a well tuned engine. What more could one ask for?
About
halfway to the airfield on the A1, I commented to Yorkie that in my opinion it
was about time we got our truck looked at. It didn’t seem to have the same
power that it once had. We needed the power if we were going to continue
outrunning the “Snowdrops”
Alan
agreed that we should get it serviced, but the problem seemed to be getting
worse by the minute. Soon we were struggling to keep up any momentum at all. It
was then that we both realised that the ragged sound we could hear wasn’t
coming from under the bonnet. It was coming from somewhere behind us.
I
should point out about now that MOT’s were not the order of the day on the
Rock. If it ran and was deemed “safe” then all was well and good. That
therefore was the reason why we had no rear view or wing mirrors. If we’d had
either we may have caught on a bit quicker.
With
a squeal reminiscent
of a stuck pig Yorkie shouts “Hit the brakes”. The speed of my reactions
even surprised me.
Out
we got. The sight that met our eyes was one of complete devastation. Laying in
the road about 15 feet behind was our “Ex trailer mounted pump” or at least
what was left of it.
Our
attempt at “Boy Scout knotting” was obviously a dismal failure. At some
stage, I’d estimate about 3-4 miles back, our pump had decided it was going to
come off the hook. Under normal circumstances this would have been only a minor
setback. Sadly the bit of steel rope we’d lobbed into the back of the truck
had a bloody great hook on it.
This
detail didn’t register at the time so what was the problem. The problem was
that when the pump came off, instead of rolling to a stop the hook had attached
itself to the tailboard, flipped the pump over and we’d dragged it for miles
thus grinding off all the controls, injectors, fuel pumps and anything else that
was remotely useful.
Hence
the “bad performance” of the truck. Nothing too much wrong with an engine
that can tow an upturned pump for miles along a tarmac road.
From
a Trailer mounted Pump to a lump of scrap metal in about 20 minutes. Is that a
record?