Back at the London WRG AGM in January my naivety with all things WRG showed when I agreed to lead the July weekend dig.  At the time nobody pointed out to me that we would likely be without NJF and also that nobody digs in the summer.  So with these issues to contend with, by June I was planning the London WRG dig on the Wey and Arun canal.  The first step was to send out the usual email asking who is coming along, how they are getting there and any dietary requirements (oops forgot that one in my email).  By the evening of the pre-dig social 11 days before the weekend I had 3 people confirmed as attending the dig and it was not looking promising.  Martin would be there on the Sunday and Lesley was a possible if I could arrange transport but otherwise WRGies were pretty thin on the ground (surely the first time thin and WRGies have been used in the same sentence).  A further complication is that I was going to spend the next 6 days in a field in Somerset listening to music, getting muddy and having the odd pint or two of hot apple juice so would not really be in a position to arrange things in advance.  However, while sat in my muddy field things on the transport front started looking up.  NWPG had approached the WRG board about the cost of insuring NJF for the summer, as they needed a minibus for their summer camp on the Wey and Arun Canal.  With London WRG also agreeing to chip in we had an additional insured minibus for the summer.  Now all we needed was a driver.  After much discussion Nigel agreed to get the train to London on Friday evening and drive the minibus down to the accommodation (which is only 30 minutes or so from where Nigel lives).  Martin had also agreed to get the train down on Saturday night rather than drive down, so that NJF could travel back up to London on the Sunday.

Due to Nigel’s family commitments (something about the children really wanting to see Shrek 2 – of course Nigel showed no interest at all, yer right!!) the meeting time was changed to 8pm in front of the Post Box on Waterloo Station concourse.  At 8.02pm Nigel came strolling up and from there Sally, Nigel and myself started off on our epic tour of South London.  With Martin’s (and Transport for London’s advice) that it took only about 15 minutes by bus to get to East Dulwich we set off in a Black Cab to make the journey, thinking to save some time.  Twenty minutes later we pulled up alongside NJF having seemed to take a fairly indirect route (“South of the river this time of night guv, you must be joking” had struck again).  After picking up Lesley, the keys and NJF (not literally apart from the keys) we set off to try to find the A3.  After visiting some of the nicer and not so nice spots of South London (Dulwich Village and Brixton) we managed to work our way to the A3 and the journey began in earnest.  The Guildford junction of the A3 came and went as we continued on the A3 to get to Nigel’s house to pick up his kit for the weekend.  Running like a well-oiled machine Nigel’s wife (Jackie) was there to hand him over his coffee and kit and to see us off – she seemed quite keen to get rid of Nigel for the weekend, something to do with an American warship in Portsmouth harbour and lots of American sailors milling about.  With Lesley looking nervously at her watch we set off cross-country to find the accommodation in Plaistow.  At 10.55pm we pulled up in front of the village pub and Lesley fairly bolted out to get to the bar before time was called.  We all trooped into the pub to be met by Richard T and Sleepy Dave.  After a quick pint we turned up at the hall to find Marcus asleep in the front of his Land Rover.  At this point it turned out that nobody had collected the key for the hall so Nigel and I set off to find a bungalow called “Chumleigh”.  Fortunately for us it turned out to be the first bungalow we came to so we quickly returned to the hall and opened up the accommodation.  After unloading all of the necessary kit the regular late night toast eating started – albeit with Sally and I looking on anxiously as we weren’t sure we would have enough bread for breakfast and lunch the following day if the toast eating continued.  Due to the initial lack of transport and also the effort involved in getting it to NJF Sally had initially only carried out a shop for Saturday’s breakfast and lunch. Finally, common sense prevailed and everybody went to get their heads down for a few hours.

Saturday morning saw me rudely awakened by the theme from the film about the “633 Squadron”.  If I had to get up early to make breakfast for everyone I was at least going to pass on some of the misery.  Unfortunately, breakfast took slightly longer than I planned due to an intermittently working grill and a lack of cooking oil.  However, after some improvisation breakfast was cooked and the hordes (well 7 WRGies) fed.  After preparing the lunch (just a hint: don’t ask Dave to grate cheese for the sandwiches) it was off to the work site, which for this weekend was the Haybarn site where we were demolishing, the bridge last time we worked on the W & A.  We met up with John Gerard and the local organiser Graham, and promptly started moving plant and equipment down to the actual site.  Fortunately, the landowner has started putting in some drainage so the site was a bit less waterlogged than on our last visit (at least for the time being).  The list of tasks for the weekend included completing the demolition of the existing bridge and abutments; grading an access track down to the site, breaking up the rubble from the demolished bridge to use as road base, removing the rust from the container on site and painting it, and collecting tools and equipment from Tickners.

Whilst Marcus got to work moving the RSJs that we freed last time out of the way and then using the pecker to free the last RSJ, Richard T and Dave travelled up to Tickner’s Heath to start the task of collecting the plant.  Lesley and I started to break up the rubble with the sledgehammers whilst John, Nigel and Sally piled up the debris.  Unfortunately, Lesley must have misinterpreted the instruction “please break the rubble with the sledgehammer” into “please break the sledgehammer with the rubble” as she proceeded to break two sledgehammers over the course of the weekend.

With the RSJ freed Marcus turned his and the excavator’s attention to the grading of the access track, ably supported by Nigel and his dumper.  Sally and myself started up the compressor and got down to demolishing the bridge abutment using the road breakers.  With the arrival back on site of Richard and Dave and the Burco nearly boiling (for the first time that lunch time) I set off to Tickner’s for the next epic run to shift tools and equipment for the summer camp at the site.  During my visit I received a phone call from Nigel asking for some more sledgehammers due to the first instalment of Lesley’s hammer breaking exploits.

On my return from Tickner’s I expected to see a site full of activity with lunch having long since finished.  The only problem was that lunch had had to be delayed due to some idiot not having checked that the Burco was full before putting it on for lunch (can’t possibly have been my fault, honest!!).  This meant that lunch had not long been finished and the WRGies were just settling into their afternoon tasks.  Marcus had almost completed the grading of the access track and Richard T and Dave were now at work using the road breakers.  Lesley, Sally and John were busy breaking up and shifting the rubble, and Nigel was at home in his dumper.  One problem that arose on our return from Tickner’s was that the track had not been graded to a sufficient width for the mobile crane and low loader that must travel down it.  At this point though the weather intervened and the heavens proceeded to open turning the whole site into a mud bath.  Thankfully, the new container on site had yet to be cluttered with essential tools and equipment, but instead had plenty of room for sheltering WRGies.  This pretty much set the pattern for the remainder of the afternoon with the work being carried out between heavy rainfalls (and with Sally having to take an impromptu break to sew up the split in her trousers caused when she bent over).

By 6pm most of us had had enough for one day so we tidied away the tools and equipment and headed off in NJF to Sainsbury’s to buy the rest of the food for the weekend.  Once we had bought the food and got back to the hall the delights of the accommodation were to come into play.  This is one of those rare village halls that have showers and they were appreciated to the full by the WRGies before dinner (even Marcus had a shower).  Sally and Marcus had offered to cook the Saturday meal, although they were particularly coy about what exactly they were going to cook.  However, although a little late due to the delays in getting the food and getting back to the accommodation the “Toad-in-the-Hole” was greatly appreciated and the garlic mash done to just the right WRGie proportions (about enough garlic to knock out unsuspecting locals from 10m).  At 9.30pm Dave and myself set off in NJF for another cross-country jaunt to pick up Martin from a local station after his epic journey back from the Saul Festival.  On our return to the accommodation it was off to the pub to sample the local brew.  The village pub seem to have a relaxed view on licensing hours (or a slow clock) and we managed to fit in a reasonable amount of drinking before having to leave the pub.  Back at the accommodation pineapple and ice cream was had before people turned in for the night.

Breakfast was again prepared by me on the Sunday morning although at a slightly earlier time as the hall had to be cleared by 9.30am for use by a play group or some such.  For once we were all up and out of the hall having packed our kit and tidied the accommodation by 9.15am and headed off to site.  The rains of the previous days, as well as the trips up it by the canal trust’s Land Rover, had turned the nicely graded track into a bit of a quagmire, although it was still in a better state than on our previous recent visit.  The work progressed pretty much as it had done on the Saturday, except that this time we had a temperamental compressor hose which eventually gave up the ghost mid-afternoon.  By this stage Sally was decorating the site container with a polka dot pattern to cover the rust spots (after having outdone her efforts of the previous day to put an even bigger split in her trousers), Lesley and Martin were hard at work trying to break up the rubble and Dave was profiling the spoil from the track grading to provide an access route for from one side of the canal to the other under the instruction of Marcus.  The rest of us were busy doing whatever other jobs there were to be done.  The afternoon was punctuated with a visit from Graham Hawke of NWPG who was checking on our progress ahead of NWPG’s camp during the summer.  However, as the day and the rain wore on the heads on site started to drop.  With no real prospect of making anymore significant progress we called a halt to the work about 4.30pm and proceeded to clear up the site.  Most of the rubble had been cleared from the bridge hole (with the exception of one large piece of concrete that Marcus just couldn’t manage to move), the track had been graded (although only to a 2.3m width), the container was nicely decorated and most of the concrete had been broken out on the far abutment.  Once site had been tidied it was back to the accommodation to pick up the vehicles, get changed and drop the keys for the hall off.  There then followed a pretty uneventful journey back to London, aided with an almost inexhaustible supply of chicken sandwiches left over from lunch.

My thanks to all those who turned up (Nigel, Sally, Marcus, Dave, Richard T, John G, Lesley and Martin), especially Nigel and Martin for putting themselves out to drive NJF to and from the dig, Sally for doing the shopping and, along with Marcus, cooking dinner on Saturday night.  My apologies to Martin for causing him to miss the excitement at the Saul Festival on Saturday night.  I hope that all who turned up had a good dig and weren’t too disheartened by the work and weather.

Andy Richardson