The Advanced Passenger Train Driver's Test

The IAM offers advanced training and a stiff test on all sorts of vehicles from two-wheelers up to commercial vehicles, but it comes as a bit of a shock to see what can be involved in testing drivers for the latest of what may be described as multi-multi-seat vehicles. The Advanced Passenger Train (APT) is a monster so removed from the normal run of trains, and its driver's test so different from the normal train driver's test, that it truly qualifies as an advanced test of railcraft.

To start with, you are being tested for a certificate in which not only your future employer, but also British Transport Police and the Health and Safety Executive have an interest. Previous train driver experience does not necessarily help, and those who belong to railway preservation societies and have once stood on the footplate of a steam engine need definitely not apply.

The APT concept dates from the 1960's. It was revolutionary then and is still revolutionary now. The idea was to take a train to ever higher speeds along conventional track by means of an active suspension system which even tilted the coaches as they went round the bends.

Training of the Forward Train Manager (FTM, the official title) starts, as with an airline pilot, on a simulator, situated in an unassuming warehouse-like building in Berkshire. There is a full mock-up of the engine and the first carriage. As in reality, one must first "hang the brass" before opening the cab door. This phrase refers to the 30 cm brass disc which is the FTM's personal identifier, with his name and qualifying date surrounding a composite picture of Stephenson's Rocket and the APT engine. This must be locked into its secure halter on the outside of the engine before the diesel motors can even be started. Possession of this identifier disc is of course a source of tremendous pride to the FTM, who almost always buys a miniature version to fix to his car, though the tradition is strictly observed that the badge is covered when someone else is driving. Beginners make do with an aluminium plate.

Before hanging the plate and entering the cab, I had to do the outside checks, going through a checklist a bit like Petrol, Oil, Water, Electricity and Rubber. I once muttered "No cows on the cow-catcher" to one of my senior observers, but it did not go down too well. Once inside the cab, sit down, turn the key, observe the lights come on, start the auxiliary motors, and then, bizarrely, leave the seat to attend to a small lever near the cab door. This serves to test the suspension by pressurising one side at a time. Feeling slightly queasy, I look back through the side window as the locomotive and first carriage rock each way in turn. Just as well the lever is far out of reach of the driver's seat!

The actual test is conducted under Code Blue railway conditions. Although it may look like a normal working day, the signal boxes along the test route are manned with the most senior staff and even the station clerks have an extra manager looking over their shoulders. There are also extra police on duty, though fewer than for Code Purple, which is invoked for Royal Trains. All in all, it is a pretty daunting prospect for the candidate, knowing that all these folk are wishing him well, and that he must not let them down.

Unlike most test situations the candidate is allowed to choose the start and finish of the route. I would really have liked to take a Continental tour from Amsterdam to Hamburg, because the East-West Amsterdam to Berlin route makes a cross with the South-North Bonn to Hamburg route in Osnabrück station. The link is by a long curve, so one has the pleasure of setting off from the station and, 10 minutes later, of steaming through it again on a different level! However, the examiner allowed me my second choice, a more modest trip from Derby to Sheffield, though he exerted his usual privilege of diverting me past some main-line track repairs.

Entering the first tunnel, I switched on the Hydrolight main beam. This wonderful piece of technology, a direct link with the early age of railways, relies on the interaction of a stream of oxyhydrogen gas and calcium oxide, and dispenses with the need for a high-powered projector bulb, which may fail.

All good things come to an end, and most bad ones, including railcraft tests. I had not slipped a red light, nor overrun the finishing mark near the buffers, but even then I was mightily pleased to hear the examiner say "Well done!", before asking to take over my aluminium plate.

I hope you enjoyed this account. I shared digs as a student with a friend doing a D. Phil. thesis on the APT active suspension, but the whole APT project was shelved over 10 years ago. The layout of Osnabrück station is genuine. Virgin Trains refer to their drivers in public as Forward Train Managers (Midland Mainline calls a ticket inspector a Revenue Protection Officer). The Hydrolight is perhaps better known as limelight. All the rest, I am afraid, is an old-fashioned horological, i.e. a complete wind-up.

The real APT is to be viewed at http://www.apt-p.com/

An introduction to modern tilting trains is at:
                http://www.o-keating.com/hsr/tilt.htm

Copyright PHP Harris 1999

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