By Richard W. Heine

From Summer 1978-79 Edition of N.Z. Railway Observer

The author returns to Paekakariki after many years where, as children, he and his brother spent their Christmas holidays. He recalls a week in early January 1950, and compares it to a similar week in 1977, documenting in detail the signalling and interlocking.

Part 2

It is 1950, breakfast is over, and my brother and I run down towards the station past the musty privet hedge ( home of a Myriad blowflies ) that lines the road. As we approach, double blasts are heard from the whistle of train 600, the 8:25 a.m. Wellington - Palmerston North passenger train, as it makes its unhurried way out of the platform at 9:23. There is little point in a rapid acceleration because, as is the case on every occasion when train 611 ( the down morning Palmerston North - Wellington passenger ) is on time, signal 2810, 1.29km beyond the Advanced Starting signal 47, will be showing yellow over red, and signal 39 at McKay’s Crossing , a further 0.97km, a red over red aspect. Barely have we reached the station when, from the north, there comes a distant solitary wail as train 611 approaches the crossing with State Highway 1 at McKay’s and enters the stretch of double track leading south to Paekakariki. A few moments later another whistle from the north indicates that train 600 has been given a "proceed" indication from signal 39 ( see fig. 2 ) by the Paekakariki signalman and is now heading north on the long 6.5km straight of level track towards Paraparaumu.

Then sliding into sight around the curve in the track leading into the station, comes train 611. It draws to a halt on time at 9:30 a.m., having allowed the refreshment-room staff a mere seven minutes since the previous train to rush dirty cups and plates away and to prepare for their next lot of customers. During this brief duet for two trains, the "Ed" locomotive off train 600 has moved from track C2 to the south backshunt C4 under the authority of signals 10B and 18. The electric locomotives always wait at 10B until the arrivals of their own trains are imminent ; this allows the drivers to yarn and stretch their legs in the signal box. The "Ka" uncouples and runs forward to C3 as signalled by the low-speed light 10A ; it stops fair and square across the road in front of signals 5 and 18. Signals 10A and 10B are controlled by the same lever, the position of the points determining which signal clears, i.e. 10B clears when the crossover 12 is in the normal position. The down main part of this crossover is fitted with a facing points lock ( F.P.L. ) controlled by lever 11, and before signal 10A ( 0r 3 ) can be cleared, lever 11 must be reversed to lock the switch blades.

The driver rotates the "Ka’s" weightshaft with his power reverse and waits while levers 10, 11 and 12 are returned to normal and lever 13 is reversed to clear 13A. This done, the locomotive is moved back to the sheds along the easternmost siding, and lever 13 is restored to normal. To bring the "Ed" from C4 to A2, levers 12 and 13 are reversed in that order, the latter clearing signal 13A. To clear signal 13B, a large brass button behind lever13 is now pushed, and the "Ed" is brought out of the south backshunt to couple on to the train. At 9:38 a buzzer sounds in the signal box to indicate that the train is ready to depart from platform 2. After reversing lever 11 to lock points 12 in the normal position for the down main, signal 3 is cleared and the train leaves.

Signals 13A, 13B and the one controlling shunting from the Down Main at A3 track deserve special comment. These are Sykes banner signals and are unique in New Zealand. They consist of a circular glass-fronted unit about 300 mm in diameter, behind which is a centre-pivoted two-position are painted red. Behind the arm is a diffuse white screen. The whole unit is sealed, and at night the whole screen is lit from behind silhouetting the arm. Apart from these banner signals, and the other shunting signals ( which are all colour-light ), all signals at the southern end of the station are of the single-lens or searchlight type, whilst those at the northern end, through to Paraparaumu, are of the three-lens type. The explanation for this must lie in the fact that the double line from North Junction to Paekakariki was opened to traffic on 25 February 1940 ( along with the Tawa Flat - Paekakariki CTC installation ), whereas the double line from Paekakariki to McKay’s Crossing was opened on 5 December 1943. The South Box panel carries the date 1943, which suggests that the overall interlocking scheme came into force on the latter date. Both kinds of signal, incidentally, were manufactured by the Siemens and General Electric Railway Signal Company, England.

The rest of the morning progresses uneventfully. The provincial expresses to Gisborne ( train 612, ex Wellington at 9:25 a.m. MWF ) and New Plymouth ( train 610, ex Wellington 10:15 a.m. TuThFS ) come and go, with 8-minute stops for refreshments and a change of locomotives, in one instance involving a still streamlined "Ka" 932. Eventually "Ab" 834 emerges from the locomotive servicing area to carry out some yard shunting on the spur siding - empty fuel oil wagons, loaded wagons from the "rail-air" goods shed - and to sort wagons off the local Wellington shunt. Occasionally the locomotive moves past signal 1B at red, over the interlocked points 16 towards the north backshunt E1, under the direction of the shunter. Authority to make this movement is given by the signalman, by simultaneously illuminating the arrow indicator A1 16 and putting the points indicator P1 16 to yellow. The points indicator is similar in appearance to a two-aspect colour-light ground signal, showing either a red ( upper lens ) or yellow light. The essential difference is that it does not of itself convey any running rights. Both the A1 and PI are controlled by a key switch on the signal box panel and, after the authority is cancelled, a 20-30 second time release comes into operation before the points can be reserved. Shunting completed, "Ab" 834 sidles back to the locomotive sheds.

As the sun climbs towards its zenith, the day’s temperature continues to rise. The familiar high cliff backdrop that towers over the station not only prevents the slightest breeze from blowing, aided in this by the large sand dunes between the station and the beach, but also acts as a source of radiant heat just like a brick wall. Soon the ballast is too hot for my bare feet, and I must stand in the shade of buildings. Towards midday, around 11:45, the first up goods of the day pulls slowly into the Up Main ( track B2 ). This is train 624, ex Wellington 10:45 a.m., running "as directed by train control" to Palmerston North. January is the time for extensive stock movements to the freezing works, and this 63-total train consists entirely of "J" and "Jc" sheep wagons and "H" class cattle wagons, not long parted from their occupants, plus of course the guard’s van bringing up the rear. The sheep wagons have the sweet smell of sheep wool and dung, and their interior wooden sides are smooth and oily from the rubbing of countless fleeces, so different from similar wagons not in service. A shunter comes across from the Departmental houses that form the western border of the yards opposite the platform, and shovels manure into a bucket for his garden; but there is more in this train than he can use.

In due course "Ab" 834 appears again at the south end of the locomotive yard on to track C2, zigzags across via crossovers 16 and 11 from C2 to B1, and then reverses on to the train. Only the express locomotives reverses directly on to up trains from C1 via crossovers 14 and 16. The metallic ring and rasp of the shovel as it scrapes along the tender plate and thrusts into the loose coal is followed by lazy black smoke from the funnel, which is soon tickled along the blower. The engine’s air pump starts up and, as it works, the train brake pipe fills with compressed air and each triple valve in turn along the train gives a faint "tiss" sound as it releases the air from each brake cylinder. The brake gear responds with creaks and groans as the shoes move away from the wheels, almost as though yawning at the long wait. The whole performance is a leisurely affair, and eventually, with a modest "poop" on the whistle, the whole cavalcade draws slowly away with minimal acceleration for Palmerston North. The guard is half the train’s length from the van, but he leaps aboard as it comes alongside and gives the "guard aboard" signal to the driver as soon as they are within view of each other.

The early afternoon is the hottest part of the day, and heat from the ground makes the distant track shimmer. With no traffic movements for several hours, retreat to the beach is called for, walking through the lupins ( whose seed pods explode all around one ) and over the concrete foundations of buildings which once formed part of a military camp. Later in the afternoon I venture back to the station to await the arrival of the Auckland express ( train 626, ex Wellington at 3 p.m. ). It is preceded by one of the newly introduced multiple units, which is brought into platform 2, the Down Main, track A2, at 3:17, having picked up any passengers for the express at intermediate stations. The arrival of the express itself is not a splendid event. The first intimation of its approach is the unmelodious clanking of the crossing bells, followed almost immediately by a blast on the "Ed’s" air horn ( the first "Ew" was not to appear for another 15 months ), and the train crawls over the crossing under the permanent "15 m.p.h." speed restriction from the Up Main Home.

These audible cues do not in fact generate any action at the station, as the tea is already made, and the refreshment-room doors have been open for the last quarter of an hour. The train slides into platform 1 ( track B2 ). The young and agile leap from the bottom steps of the carriages ( the platform is a low one ) and sprint towards the open doors well before the wheels have stopped, followed by the remaining passengers who are unable or disinclined to jump while the train is still moving.

"Paekakariki, Paekakariki, time for refreshments," squawk the station loudspeakers, again and again for good measure. The ham sandwiches are magnificent always, the tea well made - the correct strength and temperature - but the coffee is some sort of essence. Both are served in huge cups with a non-spill capacity of 276 ml ( half a pint ), a diameter of 85 mm ( wall thickness 5 mm ), and a gross weight of 0.808 kg. While people stuff themselves with food - the whole performance at this time of the day seems compulsive - other things are happening. Immediately the train has stopped, the ritual of the locomotive change gets under way. The shunter drops down between the leading carriage and the "Ed", breaks the air hose, emerges and signals to the driver to close up while he tugs at the side-protruding lever on the carriage to open its knuckle coupling. The locomotive itself carries an adaptor in the form of a solid casting substituted when necessary for the usual coupling hook. The "Ed" moves forward with a low whine, the shunter riding on the rear cowcatcher, and decelerates with a curious "chug-chug-chug" to halt at the Up Starting signal 22. The shunter leaps off, sprints the length of the engine, and up the steps of the north box two at a time. He disappears inside and we wait.

At Paekakariki the North Box is used only for shunting, goods movement to the siding, and locomotive movements, and is manned by the shunter on duty as required. The South Box, on the other hand, is manned continuously and is able to control all main-line movements without recourse to the other box, through direct control of the Up Advanced Starting signal 47, the Up Starting 22, and the Down Main Home signal 2. Each signal box contains two ( up and down ) brown painted levers known as bolt locks. When reversed, these lock part of their frame, and allow the corresponding bolt lock lever in the other box to be restored to normal. While therefore both boxes may simultaneously have their bolt lock levers reversed, only one ( up or down ) bolt lock lever at a time may be restored to the normal position, i.e. each backlocks the other. The use of bolt locks between two separate frames effectively makes them function as a single frame from the point of view of interlocking. To reverse a bolt lock lever, i.e. to restore it to the normal position, power must be supplied to the electric lock holding the lever in the reverse position. This is achieved by pressing a large brass button in line with and behind the lever. The button feeds power to the lock via contacts that are made through the bolt lock lever in the other box.

While the "Ed" is being uncoupled, the South Box signalman has reversed his down and up bolt locks ( levers 6 and 16 ) so that the North Box, normally locked up, can be freed. To do this, the shunter must restore no fewer than seven levers in the following order : 19, 20, 18, 8, 15, 5, 12. Levers 15 and 19 are the down and up bolt locks; levers 12 and 5 are facing points locks on points 16 and on points 14, 6 and 11 respectively; lever 8 ( referred to as "release on lever 19") is the facing points lock for points 6 in the up direction; lever 18 is the slot control on South Box signals 21A and 21B ; and lever 20 is the slot control on South Box signals 23A and 23B. Slotting is a form of signal interlocking between two signal boxes, designed to prevent both men simultaneously admitting opposing trains to the platform or section of track between them.

( See Fig 4 for the Interlocking Table for Paekakariki showing order of lever movements )

( See Fig 5 for a description of the Paekakariki Siganls and Levers, 1950 in North and South Box )

A final "thrump" as lever 12 is restored, and then shyly, silently, the yellow low-speed light 10B comes on beneath the Up Starting signal 22. This light is controlled by a small three position , vertically mounted key switch. In the up position it operates 10A and 10B, in the down position signal 2, and in the mid position it holds all at red. A similar switch next to it controls 1A and 1B in the up position, and signal 4 in the down position. The locomotive moves off smartly and disappears around the bend in the Up Main beyond signal 2 to B1, in the vicinity of the shunting indicator.

The sounds commence again from the signal box: "slam" ( lever 16 is reversed ), "slam" ( lever 11 is reversed ) , and the key switch is moved down to give a yellow aspect on ground signal 2. Meanwhile the driver of the "Ed" has moved to the other cab, and soon this locomotive appears again, crosses on to the down main and then over to the east sidings ( track C2 ), and moves past the station buildings to stop at ground signal 10B. More "thrumps" from the signalbox as levers 11 and 16 are restored to normal, and then "slam, slam" as points 14 and 6 are reversed, and the other key switch pushed down to give a yellow on signal 4. The "Ka" has been simmering on track C1 for the last half hour or more. It springs from its slumber with clarity, reversing rapidly on to the helpless train which, without an engine, looks anything but a main-line express. The fireman gets down and assists with coupling up, including the steam-heat hose, as the train has run on stored heat since leaving Wellington. The locomotive throbs as the oil feed to the firebox is increased, and the safety valves begin to lift. This incidentally, is minor compared to one Sunday afternoon when a young employee on duty looking after water level and steam pressures obligingly turned up the oil feed on a hapless "Ka" on the turntable until red flames shot from the funnel.

The guard arrives for his usual exchange with the driver, and it is time for me to back away as far as possible from the locomotive. I wait in terrified expectation for the inevitable blast from the whistle, and make the inevitable jump when it finally occurs. Somehow the second blast, acknowledging that the guard has joined the train, is never as bad. Why is it, I wonder, that the driver always gives the lanyard such a tremendous yank, as though the loudness of the blast is a function of how hard he pulls. Now is the time to run forward and stand in the wet steam that spills out on to the platform from the still open cylinder drain cocks, as the pistons make their first few strokes. This is a train in a hurry, and acceleration is brisk as it unzips itself from the platform; then silence once more as the tail-end postal van disappears past signal 22, neatly tripped to red once more. In a few weeks this train will speed out of Paekakariki and, while standing at Levin, will be met in head-on collision by train 641 ( Palmerston North - Wellington , due to reach Paekakariki at 5:55 p.m. ) when a shift clerk admits both trains to the main platform.

During the train’s stop at Paekakariki, the seagulls – a constant reminder of the ocean close by – have been perching on the overhead traction wires. Now they swoop down on the plates of half eaten crusts scattered the length of the platform. Talk about being unaware of one’s situation! With 1500 volts d.c. up there, a mere stretch of your wings across an insulator and you are nothing but a charred puff of smoke and a few feathers drifting down. The clatter of the trolley as it picks up the crockery goes on for a while. The sun is now starting to descend towards the Marlborough Sounds, and the heat of the day is over. The sheep which inhabit the steep cliff backdrop become more active, and the lambs bleat spasmodically in odd contrast to the squawks of the gulls. Occasionally a missed foothold results in a stream of stones rattling down the cliff face.

Unlike trains from Wellington, those from the north can arrive in the station unawares. Coming towards Paekakariki, the line passes signal 2811 ( a double-unit signal so the lower unit can display a green aspect when signal 7A is cleared on the Down Home ) on a down grade of 1 in 330, followed by a level stretch for 800 metres, then down again at 1 in 143 and into the station at 1 in 333 in less than another 800 metres. The upshot of this is that drivers can shut off steam some distance north of the station and coast into sight with hardly any noise and just a wisp of steam from the snifting valves. But the local shunt is different! As it passes the locomotive sheds and comes into sight, there comes an incredible hollow clanking sound from the connecting and coupling rods, so loud that it echoes from the cliff face. The cause of this must be extreme wear in bearings, the rods falling ahead of the driving pins when the locomotive is running under its own momentum. Surely this duty must be its last before a visit to the workshops.

( See Fig 7 for the Gradient Diagram showing the section from Pukerua Bay to Paraparaumu )

To bring this rain into the east siding C2, the South Box has given North Box down bolt lock release to reverse levers 16, 12 and 5 ( the latter two being facing points locks ), but in addition, before lever 3 ( low speed Down Main to east sidings ) can be pulled off, South Box must pull off lever 4, i.e. lever 4 is a slot control over 3. The same low-speed light is used for the A1 to D2 ( west sidings ) movement using lever "7B" ( i.e. lever 7 followed by pushing a button under the panel ), but this is an extremely rare movement. Lever 7 on its own, referred to as 7A, gives a medium speed indication on the Down Home signal for an A1 to B2 movement. The other rare movement, in this case for through up trains, is B3 to C2 under lever 19, possible only for a crossing total not exceeding about 25. Lever 19 is also used for B3 to A2, as the "B unit" on the Up Home is a fixed red.

The locomotive, a "Ka", is released from the wagons, and comes back along the "locomotive road". It stops – for me! "Like a ride – hop on." Says a kindly, round-faced driver. I rush across in great excitement, picking my way over the rails and ballast, and climb the oil-caked steps in my bare feet into the cab. The driver gives an ever so-small tug on the regulator, hanging down from its pivot high up on the boiler, and this colossal steel monster starts to move – absolutely without effort, and without any perceptible mechanical sound. Never in my life have I been on something so huge, yet so dainty in its motion with nothing but a slight pitching as it presses down on the worn frogs and lightly ballasted sleepers. It stops next to the water hose and, while the driver swings down to oil the motion, the fireman climbs the side of the tender and throws back the hatch cover with a deep clonk. Tender tank filled, we move back a little further for fuel oil and sand, and then – still in reverse – inch on to the turntable until suddenly the whole 140 tonnes are balancing as though on a seesaw. The driver and fireman man each end of the table, and I am in charge on the locomotive – I hope that tender hand brake is really on. Turned, we are lined up with a parallel road, and then finally forward gear for the first time and into the shed at the south end. The driver lives in the village, and kindly pushes his bike as we walk home part of the way together – just as the New Plymouth railcar ( train 674, ex Wellington 5:13 p.m. ) pulls in for its quick 5-minute stop at 6.02. He tells me he came out from Britain where he used to drive for the L.M.S. He says he is one of the few drivers in New Zealand who can tell me about the banner signals in their original habitat. My feet are covered in oil, and it is long past teatime. My mother comes to meet us.

The steep cliffs, so high and close to the station, offer one a unique vantage point. They cannot be climbed opposite the station, where they are almost precipitous, and one must first walk northward past the locomotive sheds. Here bare rock and scree give way to grass, but it is still a matter of climbing on hands and knees. Once on the ridge one can move southward, and finally stand right over the quarry face. The railway looks like a model – except that the radii of the curves are so much broader – and I sit for hours watching the diminutive trains. I suppose the stunted karaka and whity-wood, which give some shade, have been watching that scene for forty years or more.

Most of the up goods trains through Paekakariki are destined for Palmerston North, and except for the Auckland express goods ( train 630 ex Wellington 11.40 a.m. Tue-Sat ) and the Napier goods ( train 902, ex Wellington 7.55 p.m. Mon-Fri ), they run "as directed by train control". A typical weekday has five goods trains to Palmerston North, two to Auckland, and one to Napier, plus an early morning train to Taihape. From Wellington they normally take about an hour or just over to reach Paekakariki. The express goods is allowed 51 minutes, plus nine minutes for the change of locomotive.

In the down direction to Wellington there are eight goods trains daily, but only three originate from Palmerston North ( plus the late-afternoon mixed, train 653 ). Of the others, one is from Napier, three from Auckland, and one from Frankton Junction. Again, only the down Napier goods ( train 935 ) and the express goods from Auckland ( train 631 ) are fully scheduled and are not required to await the direction of train control. Of the above eight, only one comes through during the day ( train 691 ex Palmerston North ). This one arrives at Paekakariki in the late morning. No fewer than six pass through between 2 a.m. and about 5.30 a.m., when needless to say I am never around, and the other ( train 107 ex Auckland ) about 7.30 in the evening.

One day for a treat, my brother Michael and I are allowed to take the mixed train ( No 608 Mon-Sat ) to Palmerston North for the day, and we stumble down to the station in the half light of the early morning to find it waiting at Platform 1, the Up Main. It has actually originated in Wellington, leaving there at 4.20 a.m. as a goods train, and has been sitting at Paekakariki since 5.37, the carriages having presumably been attached at Wellington. We pull out behind "Ab" 838 at 6.15 and arrive at Palmerston North 3 hours and 38 minutes later, having stopped at every possible station – a relic of the kind of service provided everywhere before roads were improved. ( The time taken may be compared with the 2 hours 9 minutes allowed passenger train 600, which also stops at all stations required). We leave train 608 to continue to its destination, Taihape, and spend the day at Palmerston North. We have never seen a "Bb" locomotive before, a class that seems to do all the shunting here.

We board the return mixed train ( No. 653 ) at the south dock at 5.12 p.m. and start the slow trip back, passing 626 ( the Auckland express ) at Longburn, 674 ( the railcar to New Plymouth ) at Levin, 640 ( 5.57 p.m. Wellington-Palmerston North passenger ) at Otaki, and 688 ( 7.15 p.m. Wellington-Auckland limited express ) at Waikanae, a neat example of timetabling. Cold and hungry, for there is no steam heat at the back of a mixed train, we finally arrive in the dark and are brought into the east siding C2 under low speed light at 8.57 p.m. This leaves the Down Main free for the New Plymouth railcar ( train 673, Sun, Tu, Th ) coming through about 9.43 p.m. Passengers off 653, if any, continue on to Wellington on the 9.25 unit, and 25 minutes later 653 follows the railcar to reach Wellington at 11 p.m. as an ordinary goods. We are already asleep.

Once or twice my father takes us down to the station at night, and we watch the Auckland limited express ( train 688 ) come in. At night the throbbing fire of the "Ka" waiting to depart is reflected in the ashpan and down on to the track as a pulsating reddish glow, and the air is pervaded by the continuous whine of the turbo-generator lighting the cab gauges and the headlight. As the carriages move faster and faster past us, they seem filled with white pillows rather than people, and one does not envy those travelling right through to Auckland second class.

All around, the signals stare into nothing, monotonously deep red, except for brief periods of bright apple green to allow the four following goods trains through, three to Palmerston North and one to Napier. Sometimes one of the Palmerston North trains is completely made up of white insulated bogie meat wagons. After the last has gone through, around 11 p.m., there is silence until train 699 from Palmerston North arrives about 2 a.m. – except , that is, on the one night of the year when the New Year is welcomed in, and everyone in Paekakariki is woken at midnight by the hoarse raucous noise of locomotive whistles sounding off.

"If you are going to stand there all day," says my wife Marilyn from the car, "I’ll take the children down to the beach." It is 1977 again.