I'm just preparing for a trip back to the UK. As usual I'm assembling a little bag of UK banknotes and change, but this time I'm being a bit more careful since the current one-pound coin and five-pound note are about to be withdrawn and replaced.
The one pound coin was introduced in 1983 - until then we had the pound note, which (unlike any modern British notes) was green. And before decimalisation in 1972, there was even a note for half of one pound, the 'ten bob note' (ten shillings, 50p in modern money). It was a little smaller than the pound note, and a reddish-brown colour.
The ten-bob note still lives on, in the colloquial expression, "bent as a nine-bob note" - meaning dishonest or corrupt. "I wouldn't buy nuffin' from that lot, they're all bent as a nine-bob note". Because a nine-shilling note would necessarily be a forgery. And also it alliterates nicely.
Five pounds used to be serious money, at least for a working class family like mine, as I once saw very vivdly. I must have been about seven or eight. We were on our annual week's holiday with my grandmother in Dovercourt, close to the ancient (and still very important) port of Harwich. She'd retired to a tiny cottage there around the time I was born. It was just big enough for her, my parents and myself, my parents sleeping on what must have been a horribly uncomfortable convertible sofa (a "put-u-up") that had to be unfolded after dinner every night and restored to its daytime function every morning. To a small child it was a paradise. The beach, with its choc-ices and endless civil engineering possibilities, was short bus-ride away on the exotic green Eastern National bus. There was a ferry across the estuary to Felixstowe, with its fairground, and walks along the promenade to see the long-disused lighthouses.
We had just got off one of those green buses, on our way to the beach, when my mother gave a gasp of horror. One of those five pound notes was missing from her purse. She was sure she'd had it when we left, so it must have come out somehow during the journey. That single banknote represented most of our holiday budget. My father earned about £30 per week, as a shop assistant selling the odds and ends that went into the then-thriving East End clothing industry along with the fabric itself.
My mother wasn't given to tearful outbursts, and I don't remember her crying, but it was certainly a very stressful moment. I remember her doing the mental arithmetic to see what kind of holiday we could still have on the remaining money in her purse. She tried to reassure me that everything would be alright, but I don't think it would have been.
In desperation, she made a phone call to the bus depot which occupied a very central position on Dovercourt's main shopping street. And, miracle of miracles, someone had seen the note fall and given it to the driver, who had handed it in to the depot as he drive past. I think maybe my mother did cry then. I won't say "that would never happen today", because I think these random acts of kindness are still common enough, and people were no more honest then than they are now. But certainly it was a huge stroke of good luck.
And there was better to come. My mother jumped on the next bus into town and rushed into the garage. The rule was that the bus company took 10% of the value of any lost property, as a way to cover their costs in handling it. Getting 90% of our holiday budget back was a lot better than losing it all, but it was still a significant dent.
The man in the bus garage office said to her, "Well, rightly we ought to take ten shillings off you. But you called almost before it was handed in, so it don't seem right really." And gave her back her whole five pound note, without taking the 10% they were entitled to. Really I'm sure he just felt sorry for my mother.
So our holiday proceeded with its intended budget after all. The fact that I still remember all these details - I can even remember where we were and what kind of bus it was (a Bristol MW or LS single decker, since you didn't ask) - speaks volumes about the impact this little incident had on a small boy at the time.
Saturday, 4 February 2017
When I started to put together my LGB garden railway, I quickly realized I would need some way to keep the track clean. The brass rails oxidize quickly outdoors, not to mention getting covered in bits of leaf and general garden dirt. Clean track with a bright, conductive surface is essential for smooth operation.
It’s possible to clean track by hand, of course. I have about 100 feet of track - small by garden standards - and it is a thoroughly unpleasant and back-breaking job, shuffling around the garden on your bottom, scratching away at a couple of feet of track at a time. There has to be a better way.
LGB have thought of this, and they give you two possibilities. One is a goods wagon with a couple of tiny abrasive pads on the bottom. Experience with even a small, indoor layout shows that these quickly wear out and get clogged. The Rolls-Royce alternative is the Track Cleaning Loco, styled after the yellow track maintenance vehicles you see all over the world. At least, originally they were yellow. When they introduced a DCC version, it became red.
As shipped, there is no control to turn on and off the cleaning motor. If you drive the loco forwards, it cleans as it goes, making a terrible noise that sends our cat scrambling for the fence. In reverse, it runs quietly and without cleaning the track. Neat, but not always convenient.
Early in its life, it had a disaster. While I was tinkering with it, body removed, a loose wire touched the track, shorting the track power to the motor. This fried not only the decoder, but also the LGB board that runs the lights and so on, and even some of the external electrics of the layout itself. I took advantage of that to do a full DCC installation, using a cheap Chinese voltage step-down board to supply an adjustable voltage to the cleaning motor. This could now be controlled using DCC with a relay to switch the power to it. It pulls about 2 amps, way beyond the auxiliary output of the decoder.
It was operable again, but still needed clean track to work. It bounces along the track quite violently as the cleaning wheels oscillate against its movement, so much so that we christened it Mr Bouncy.
The first year that I reopened the layout in spring, I had no choice but to clean the whole layout by hand. It really is a miserable job, and it persuaded me to try and make Mr Bouncy actually work.
My first attempt was to fit NCE's own booster module. This uses six one-farad supercaps in series. Supercaps are amazing things. Until about 10 years ago, the largest capacitor you could get was about 100,000µF. And it was huge. Supercaps use a different technology making tens end even hundreds of farads perfectly practical. The only problem is that they run at very low voltages - normally 2.7V. The NCE booster turned out to be useless - it can only run at 15V, so I had to turn down my 18V track voltage. That upset several of the locomotives, and made smooth running much harder. And it just didn't have enough capacity for a loco as large as this. - in fact it had no effect at all.
Nevertheless, supercaps are a very attractive solution to the problem. I thought about various ways to use them. I bought a bag of 10 30F units, and just for the sheer ridiculousness of it, a 350F supercap, which is about the size of a D-cell battery. Unlike a battery, though, it will cheerfully supply tens or even hundreds of amps for as long as it is charged.
The problem is that supercaps have to be carefully managed. You can connect them in series, but even so you have to to do something to ensure that none of them go over the individual voltage limit. You also have to control the charging current - a discharged supercap will cheerfully pull hundreds of amps. That looks like a short circuit to the rest of the layout, and will just shut down the power supply. There's a very nice chip (the LTC3350) made to deal with exactly these problems, but it's not suitable for the kind of amateur construction I'm doing. For one thing it's only available in a PQFN package, which requires industrial machinery to solder.
So it was back to the supercap solution. There are two problems: how to reduce the track voltage to something acceptable to the supercap, at the same time controlling the charging current; and how to bring that voltage back up to the 18V or so that the decoder is expecting.
The extra parts are quickly explained. The two big diodes on the left are 1N5422 5A Schottky diodes. They feed the higher of the input voltage and the output of the converter, to the output. The converter is set to slightly less than the track voltage, so its output is only used when the track voltage is absent. The smaller 1N4001 beside them ensures there is no reverse current through the step-down converter. The LED and zener at the top right show when the supercaps are charged close to 5.2V. There is a second supercap under the board, fitting into the gap between the wheels.
Finally it was time to test Mr Bouncy on the track. And this time, he worked perfectly. The track was filthy, unused for several months and black with oxide. I cleaned a short stretch, put Mr Bouncy on it and left him to charge - it takes about 30 seconds for the supercaps to charge fully. Then I set him slowly in motion. It was a pleasure to watch. The cleaner motor runs only on track power, so you can easily hear when power is interrupted. But the traction motor uses the booster. He will continue to trundle along slowly for up to about ten seconds, invariably enough to reach good power again and recharge. At first the cleaner runs only very intermittently, but on the second pass the track is a little cleaner and by the fifth pass it was running almost continuously, leaving beautiful shiny rails behind himself. A handful of times he did stop altogether, but the small current available through the dirty rails was enough to slowly recharge the supercaps, until he nudged along a few inches and then reached good power again. He can just be left to make a dozen or so circuits of the whole track, without any supervision at all.
We're very close to perfection now. One remaining problem with Mr Bouncy is that the rails aren't cleaned evenly. For some reason a little oxide remains over the sleepers, but not in between them. Clearly the height of the railtop is not exactly constant. I think the solution to that is to attach a conventional "scraper" type rail cleaner behind him, to finish the job off, and I've just ordered one of those. It is a real pleasure to watch him going round and round, occasionally idling along under his own power but never coming to a stop. And much easier than doing the job by hand. Though our cat, Missy, doesn't really agree.