The West Winford Incident (10 page)

BOOK: The West Winford Incident
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Dave nodded. “It's too late for that now,” he replied wearily, “they're beginning to seal up the turbine. The steam is due to be on in less than three hours. It's clear that we're going to have to get those lugs cut off and then re-welded on after we've got it into position,” he added with evident resignation. Once the turbine was returned to the operations department it would be kept running for eighteen months unless something major occurred.

He felt sick; a wave of complete dejection passed through him. He had been so pleased to have been selected to represent the department upon this prestigious committee – his first chance to really impress. He felt that this had been an opportunity to take his place amongst the other well respected scientists, but now, when confronted with actually making his only real contribution to the investigation, he had failed. Joe and the scientists from the Slough labs were obtaining useful, probably vital, publishable results and what had he got? Nothing.

“Hang on a bloody minute,” exclaimed Gritty, jumping up from the impromptu seat he had made of a flange on the turbine casing. “We are being bloody stupid. It's the bloody woods and trees thing. If we're quick we can save the situation.”

He went on to point out the – blatantly obvious when you came to think of it – solution, at least for the time being. Their pressing problem was that the turbine had to start operation shortly, whilst their test didn't. A day or two here or there didn't matter to them. Lateral thinking maybe, but all they needed to do was to get a length of pipe welded into the LP steam line before the turbine went back into service. The pipe would have to be fitted with an isolation valve, which would be kept closed whilst the turbine was operating, until they had their own test vessel and Bunsen's sampler attached. So the turbine could start up as planned and they could get their test rig assembled over the next day or so. It could be connected to their isolating valve whilst the turbine was running and when they were ready, they would open the valve to extract their steam and begin the experiment.

After a certain amount of rushing around, the pipe and isolating valve was fitted into the main steam line, just before they were ordered to return their permit (the last one out!) to the office. With sighs all around, the turbine was gradually brought into operation according to system plans.

Dave and Gritty left Winford, both of them keen to get home. The situation had been saved and, although they were pleased, the rigors of the past two days had taken their toll.

Their journey back into Wiltshire was made in good time and, after apologising for his show of temper, Dave dropped Gritty off. It was dark but Dave was surprised to find his house also in darkness. Not the welcome for which he had hoped. The house was empty and cold and he had only just turned the heating on when the door burst open.

“Daddy, will you tell Jo off, she's been so mean to me?” whined Katy, throwing her school satchel on to a chair. She flopped onto the sofa pouting.

“Katy, I've only just got home myself. Where's Jo and Mummy anyway? And get your satchel off there and take it to your room.”

“I'm here,” called Jo from the hallway. “We saw you drive past. We were at the Potters' and don't take any notice of old misery drawers there, she's been a pest all day.”

“Not true, fat face.”

“Never mind that, where's your mother?”

Jo told her father that Sue had gone up to London, which came as an unwelcome surprise, as he thought that her trip wasn't planned for another week. He supposed that he would have to get his own tea. Jo said that they had been fed by Mrs Potter.

Dave was cold, the heating had been off all day. He felt irritable as he sorted through the fridge to find something to eat. A few minutes later Sue arrived. She was immediately accosted by Katy, who reiterated details of Jo's meanness. Sue placated her daughter and greeted Dave pleasantly.

“Sorry I'm a bit late, but it was worth it.”

She was tired and achy but she had had a good day.

“How did your work go love?” she enquired, putting her arm around Dave's waist as he sawed away at a loaf. Dave muttered a response. Despite his best efforts, his irritability surfaced and he complained that he hadn't known that she was going to London, adding, rather unnecessarily, that the house had been freezing when he got in. Sue, noted his manner, but decided to maintain her bright mood.

“Never mind love, we're all home now and it's warming up already. I'll make us a hot drink shortly, after I've had a quick shower. You can't imagine how hard I've worked today.”

Rather stiffly Dave replied that his day had been quite hard too.

“Well, you can relax now and put your feet up,” she persisted.

This didn't ease her husband's ill humour, which was not improved when the hostility between the girls, who had been sitting on the sofa making faces at each other, escalated into a pinching competition, with accompanying verbal abuse.

“Will you two just clear out?” shouted their father above their cries.

The girls obeyed, though a pushing-pulling match, beginning in the doorway, persisted up the stairs until the slamming of two doors signalled the end, for the present at least.

“It seems from your mood that your work didn't go so well,” Sue observed.

“Things were just very hard for a couple of days, that's all,” Dave grumbled, “and then to find you out with your friends…”

“What? Just what's that supposed to mean?” Sue was deviating from her soothing mode. “You knew that I was going up to London sometime. It just happens that the day was brought forward, that's all.”

“Well, not to a very convenient time.”

“Convenient for whom? For Christ's sake, Dave, I've been stuck in this house, more or less continuously, for weeks and then when I get the rare chance to go out and do something other than baking bloody tarts with the WI, it doesn't suit your convenience – well bloody tough luck.” Having made her point, Sue went to the doorway with the intention of taking her shower, but before she got through, she decided that Dave required a further insight into her thoughts.

“Do you fit any of your jaunts around me? I know that you are keen to make progress at work and I support you in that, but it seems that you'd rush off and do any fiddling, piddling, job you liked, without giving a second thought to how convenient, as you call it, it is to me, and that even includes bloody skittles too.” Having got those thoughts off her chest, Sue went for a tearful shower.

Dave was surprised by the suddenness and ferocity of his wife's fusillade. He felt aggrieved and it was the reference to skittles that stung most. It was a few days later before the Harrison household returned to something like normality, though a suggestion of residual resentment still lingered.

12

The return to a more harmonious household was greatly assisted by the coincidence of two, seemingly unrelated, incidents. Though unrelated, each played their part in lifting the spirits of both man and wife. Unsurprisingly, it was positive developments in both the Winford investigation and the Turner family history quest that were responsible.

It was with eager anticipation that Dave and Gritty travelled to Winford to start up the test rig. Initially, they partially opened the inlet valves a small amount, so that the flow of steam, from the turbine into the vessel, was low. This allowed all the components to warm up slowly. The pipework sections groaned as they expanded and adjusted to the rise in temperature. Later, they opened the valves fully and the steam flowed unhindered from the LP turbine pipework and through the test vessel. They noted the temperature and pressure. Dave had decided to delay installing samples until the system had been ‘steam cleaned' for a few days. Leaving Winford, both Gritty and Dave experienced a mixture of pleasure and relief.

Meanwhile, thanks to the combined efforts of the General Registry Office and the postal service, Sue received her eagerly anticipated certificates from Somerset House. She cleared away the remnants from breakfast to make table room for her studies. She checked her certificates:

Harry Boughton b. 27/4/1878 Father Thomas (Maltster), Mother Martha (formerly Eccles). Born Aston.

Caroline Jane Loomes b. 17/4/1872 Father James Henry (Servant), Mother Caroline (formerly Potten). Born Paddington.

Tom Turner b. 18/4/1873 Father George (Tin Plate Worker), Mother Emma (formerly Perkins). Born Birmingham.

“Yes!” she gasped. It all seemed to fit in with what she knew. Thomas' job tallied with her information and Caroline Jane's birthplace was confirmed as Paddington. Her mother's name was Potten. The certificate for her grandfather Turner was also almost certainly the correct one. She had covered many years during her search through the indexes and although there were several Thomas', this had been the only Tom and his birthplace was as expected. Sue felt that she could now start building up her family tree in earnest. She couldn't wait to pay another visit to London and do more searching, tiring though it was.

When Dave arrived home he found Sue to be, if not overwhelmed by his return, at least, not overtly hostile. He was able to add to the improvement in relations by announcing that he was due to collect his contract-hire car the following day. Sue was pleased, as it meant that she would now have the use of their Morris, which would give her much greater independence.

The evening could have passed pleasantly between the two, as Dave's combined satisfaction of having his test rig up and running, plus the new car, should have made him amenable. Initially he showed an interest in Sue's recent family history ‘finds', but he could sense that she would go on and on about them unless he cut her short. He attempted to conceal his increasing boredom.

“So what's your next step?” he enquired, after looking at her grandparents' documents.

“Well, for the moment I'll concentrate on the three couples that I've found and try to find details of their parents' marriage in the indexes. Now that I know the maiden names of my great grandmothers, it will be much easier.”

Whilst Sue paused briefly with this thought, Dave took his chance and went into the hall to collect his briefcase.

“Well, must get on myself.”

Sue was disappointed. She was so enthusiastic, but it was clear that her husband's priorities lay elsewhere. She was not deceived by his apparent interest in her family history, she realised that he was patronising her. As long as he was not diverted from his own interests he was happy. His attitude saddened her, as one of the pleasures of any activity was being able to share the successes and failures with others.

A few days later Sue phoned Pam to see if she could be persuaded to put down her hammer for the day, as she would like to take her out, it being such lovely weather.

“It's my treat. I've got the car from now on and it's to say thanks for the lifts that you've given me over the past months.”

“You should know by now that it doesn't take much for me to down tools. The old man will probably have a tantrum and have me thrashed by his manservant when I get back, but I'll just have to put up with that. Actually, I'm beginning to enjoy this rough treatment, but then Cummings does have something of the Mellors about him, so that's OK. What time?”

It was an hour later when Sue drove through the ornate gateway and along the tree-lined drive, to the eighteenth century house. The sun slanted through the beeches and, as she neared the building, an abundance of snowdrops lit up the imposing frontage. There were masses of them, including numerous large islands on the lawn in front of the main doorway. Crocuses were also making a determined effort to compete. She gave the archaic bell-pull a good tug and was disappointed when the door was opened by a frail lady and not the Mellors look-alike. Perhaps another time. Pam almost knocked the old dear off her feet as she brushed past her.

Sue's suggestion of Salisbury was fine with Pam, who relaxed, as best as anyone with her background could, in a Morris 1100. Strangely, Pam found that it was a pleasant change to be a passenger. Sue would have thought that someone in her friend's exalted position, would be used to being chauffeured everywhere, even to the local shops. Not so apparently.

They took the journey sedately. Wiltshire was a lovely county and Sue was, from now on, going to make every effort to enjoy it. Through Devizes and onwards to the open plain – wonderful. The rolling hills either side, the odd stand of beech and the sunshine. Later, having turned right just before Stonehenge, they passed a cluster of burial mounds and gradually descended towards Salisbury, instantly recognisable even though still some way off, by occasional glimpses of the cathedral spire.

Sue and Pam's day followed their well-established format of a pinch of culture (easily satisfied by Salisbury's treasures), a purposeful assault on the retail outlets and, favourite by quite a long way, the pub lunch. This long savoured finale was this day enacted at The County Hotel, adjacent to the River Avon, which Sue liked as much for its ambiance, as the food it served. It had, she thought, something of Trollope's Barchester about it and she could imagine the likes of Mr Harding, Mr Slope and Mrs Proudie sitting in this dining room, though obviously not all at the same table. This thought epitomised her feelings of the differences between her new home and Birmingham. She preferred the old fashioned, genteel air; the slower pace of life that pervaded Bath and the small market towns locally. She still felt herself a Brummie and was at home amongst her humorous, good natured, fellow citizens, but the life in the city was so hectic by comparison.

The meal was enjoyable. They drove home slowly, succumbing to that companionable mood that characterised their relationship.

“Keep your fingers crossed for me. I may escape Cummings' beating,” said Pam as they drew up at the huge doorway, “but on the other hand, I may be lucky,” she added with a twinkle in her eye. Sue drove the short trip home smiling. Dear Pam, she was priceless.

*

This was the third meeting of the sub-committee and Dave felt a keen anticipation now that he had a meaningful contribution to make. In addition to being able to report upon the on-site test rig, he had information from the Non Destructive Testing Group's site investigations.

After Henry and Pauline had combined to bring everyone up to date, Henry asked Dorinda McCann to report upon their work and, in particular, to introduce the memo that she and James Collingwood had prepared. Dorinda did this with, Dave thought, an unnecessary amount of formality. In essence though, it was really the tidying up of the information that they had presented at the last meeting, with a few more test details.

It was evident that they were firmly decided that the disc failure was the result of stress corrosion cracking caused by sodium hydroxide, which had been carried over with the steam from the boiler, into the turbine. Dave, though he accepted this was the most likely explanation, believed that other, admittedly less likely, possibilities should not be discounted. Though not having the university background of the others, he felt that his open-minded approach was more appropriate at this early stage.

Joe was next. He reported that he had produced two sets of pre-cracked specimens which he had loaded up to two separate values to obtain, at least a rough idea of the effect of stress intensity. He had also supplied Dave with similar specimens. His own tests were underway using laboratory produced ‘pure' steam.

Henry expressed delight at the progress being made. He, of course, felt himself, as independent chairman, to be responsible for the overall work of the sub-committee. It was to him that the Technical Committee, overseeing the whole investigation and ultimately the board of the Strategic Supplies Authority, would look to provide answers.

Dave was pleased to report that his on-site test rig had been manufactured and installed on Number 5 turbine and that it was currently being steamed out to clean the system. The pre-cracked specimens he had received from Joe would be placed into the test vessel within days, together with his own specimens. These were un-cracked specimens in the form of plain, small diameter bars, made from LP disc steel, under stress – in effect just long bolts. Dorinda interrupted him, saying that it was ludicrous for anyone to imagine that alloy steels, of the strength level used for the manufacture of turbine discs, could possibly suffer from stress corrosion cracking in high purity steam. She had been studying the phenomenon since her post graduate days, which was longer than she cared to remember. She had contributed to and attended virtually every major conference on the topic. She could say, with confidence, that the small number of chemical solutions that could cause stress corrosion cracking of these alloy steels could be counted on the fingers of one hand and she added, warming to her argument, a pretty small hand at that. James Collingwood added the final point in their argument which was that the credibility of the whole sub-committee would be undermined if it became known that they were pursuing any odd fancy, when there was an urgent job to be completed. Dave was chastened. He was not in a position to refute Dorinda's superior knowledge, yet he still thought, though did not express his view, that it was good science to include the less likely possibilities, even if only for the purposes of elimination. He sat awaiting Henry's final judgement.

Before Henry could make his, probably damning, remarks, Joe came to Dave's rescue in a way that surprised and pleased him. He said that he accepted much of what Dorinda had said but, on second thoughts, it could be that Dave may have a valid point in this instance. Everyone looked across to him for elucidation. After a pause, Joe went on to say that, at this time, everyone seemed to agree that the most likely cause of cracking of the Winford disc and therefore the turbine failure was contaminated steam. Further, it was generally agreed that cracking in normal ‘high purity' steam was an extremely remote…

“Impossible in my view.”

Following Dorinda's interruption, Joe continued by saying that this being the case, there remained the slight possibility, though remote, that contamination might still be present at Winford. If this was accepted, then the inclusion of some un-cracked specimens in the trial could be justified. If the chemical analysis of the steam during these trials, which Dave was monitoring, found evidence of contamination, it would give added weight to Dorinda's hypothesis if the plain specimens did crack.

Some seconds of silence followed Joe's comments. You're a real star, was Dave's unspoken thought. Henry, clearly relieved by Joe's observation, was pleased to be able to satisfy, to some extent, all parties.

After lunch, Dave passed around a summary of the results of non-destructive testing. A number of apparently sound discs had been removed from the LP rotors of the failed turbine. These had been tested for surface cracking around their bores and keyways, using a magnetic technique. Widespread cracking had been found in some of the discs. It was the pattern of the cracking which Dave thought instructive. The discs that had been positioned near the inlet of the LP steam were the most badly cracked, whilst those nearest the exit from the turbine contained no cracks. In general, cracking of the remainder diminished moving along the turbine rows towards the exit.

It was known that the steam conditions varied along the LP turbine, being just slightly wet near the inlet and becoming increasingly wet along the machine, until the final discs were operating in a continuous shower of water. Furthermore, the fine balance of the steam conditions near the inlet end, was such that it could be either just wet, or just dry, depending upon operating conditions.

Dave summarised, the disc cracking was worst where the steam cycled between being wet and dry and it was absent where the discs were completely wet. It could be postulated therefore that cracking occurred predominantly when the disc surfaces were alternately wet and dry which, he had to admit, fitted in with Dorinda's idea of contamination. One could imagine the gradual build-up of salt/impurity concentration as the wet/dry cycle took place, rather like the formation of a salt tidemark on a part of a beach, where the sea water evaporated as the tide went in and out. Henry thanked Dave for his contribution.

Dave was pleased with the eventual outcome of the meeting, but the residual tension caused by the argument about his work, with the implied suggestion that he was an idiot, made him weary and this feeling persisted during his journey home. He was less than pleased to find the place a bit of a mess, as well as being very noisy – the Potters' kids were there again. He was glad that Jo and Katy had friends, but these two were particularly boisterous and this infected his daughters, which meant that when the four were together, he knew that he would have to resign himself to two or three hours of disruption.

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