"Never known to quail, At the fury of a gale.."
The world of railways, as we know, embraces so much more than the conveyance of passengers and goods by train, and the locomotives and rolling stock which did so. The railways owned a vast number of road vehicles from horse-drawn drays to motor lorries and vans, not to mention charabanc tours for holidaymakers and country bus services. The railway interest in docks went with the ownership of ships and ferries in large numbers and in the between-the-wars years railways became involved in the new transport age of flying with the creation of Railway Air Services. The railway-owned ferries and even some of the cargo vessels have been mentioned in our pages in both triumph and adversity: those which served with distinction in both world wars, splendid ships like the TSS Canterbury which provided the sea-going link with the 'Golden Arrow' Pullman, the train ferries which carried the 'Night Ferry' sleeping cars and other wagons to the Continent in the pre-Tunnel era, or the TSMV Princess Victoria which set sail from Stranraer for Larne in the teeth of a furious gale in 1953 only to founder in the North Channel with tragic loss of life. Railway shipping played a valuable role in the nation's maritime commerce, one which deserves better recognition.

In the sphere of shipping activities two other areas in which railways became involved were the coastal steamers which plied the Clyde coast between Glasgow and the Islands and the pleasure craft which floated over the waters of the Lake District. It is of the latter that we shall speak in an article in this month's issue. January's archive picture feature on the Clyde paddle steamers made due note of the rivalry between the North British, Caledonian and Glasgow & South Western companies for their services along the Clyde coast and to the Isles of Arran, Bute and Cumbrae, and in providing popular day trips for Glasgow folk during the holidaying season. The article ended with the unfortunate fate of the NBR's Waverley, sunk by enemy action during the Dunkirk evacuation. It was not, though, to be the end of that name for in 1946 the London & North Eastern Railway launched the fourth Waverley which went on to become the last paddler working the Clyde coast when withdrawn in 1973. Happily, she was saved by the Paddle Steamer Preservation Society and since January 1975 has been delighting tourists with cruises around the waters where she spent her working life.

I've enjoyed a couple of exceptionally pleasant days aboard the Waverley and what rewarding experiences they proved to be. One warm day was spent largely on deck apart from going below for those essential refreshments; on another occasion we encountered the Queen Elizabeth II on an anniversary return to the Clyde where she had been built, though that day's voyage concluded early when the paddler found herself in increasingly choppy conditions and had to put in at Largs where we disembarked instead of continuing to our destination at Ayr. As a by-product the l/l/aver/eycruises introduced me to a growing appreciation of single malt whiskies, as Irish railtours had earlier to Guinness... maybe it's the company I keep...
A few years ago a little band of us, schoolfriends of long standing, marked our collective significant birthday with a holiday near Coniston where our Alma Mater had an outdoor pursuits centre. We went to see it again for old times' sake but it had been sold off for residential use - no doubt too risk-beset for school use these days, being within sneaking-off distance of the lake itself. It was, though, on Coniston Water that I had my choice of personal treat which was to cross it on the restored Furness Railway steam yacht Gondola. This delightful craft is described in more detail in our article; I can say, though, it was a treat worth waiting for.
After reaching the other side we climbed from the shore to visit Brantwood, the perfectly situated home of John Ruskin, the art critic and social polemicist. Ruskin, it might be recalled, used to fulminate against building railways in scenic areas of the country where he disapproved of them being, dreading not only their intrusive presence but their flooding of beauty spots by unwanted tourists and general, 'half-drunk' (as he imagined), urban riff-raff. Standing in his breakfast room and looking out across the lake to the mountains beyond, I couldn't help but reflect that the railway had indeed brought trippers to Coniston and had then provided pleasure boats to let them sail upon the Water - and that now railway vessels were carrying visitors to wander round Ruskin's very house, gawping at his personal artefacts and furnishings. Was, I wondered, Ruskin's soul writhing in torment at the realisation of his worst nightmare? Oh, well...! I do rather enjoy life afloat; I think I might have been content travelling abroad by liner, provided I was in a decent class of passage. A highlight of those family holidays in Scarborough was an evening sail along the coast in one of the pleasure steamers out of the harbour and I liked it the better if the sea was a bit lively, with a tang of the briny in the air, a touch of the spray on the breeze. Referring back to the previously mentioned Princess Victoria, she did not sink principally because the weather was too foul but because the inadequate stern doors were breached by large waves, causing the car deck to be inundated. However, faced with crossing the Irish Sea in those stormy conditions I might have forgone the invigorating stroll around the decks in favour of a fortifying glass (or two) of Highland spirits in the bar. But from the cross-channel ferry to the Lakeland pleasure boat we are, it is said, a sea-faring nation and in a style befitting the present century the likes of the Waverley and the Gondola serve to play to that heritage.