Tug Life - A Lifetime of Class 60s With Steve Purves
In a new occasional feature, our Project Mangers explain just why they picked to do the models we make. In the first edition, Class 60 Project Manager Steve Purves explains why he fancied a Tug.
Take it away, Steve!
I grew up in Melton Mowbray. As a young lad, I’d stand at the end of Melton station, watching the hectic daytime shunting of pet food container traffic from loops to yard. My parents would sometimes take me over to Loughborough as a treat to watch the faster trains.
The big excitement in the early ’90s was, of course, the Class 60. We’d wander over to catch sight of them at the back of Brush. If we were lucky, we’d see them out on test runs and occasionally even leaving the works. This left a strong impression on me, as it did on many others.
Fast forward a few years to 1994, to be precise. My grandad, a local stonemason, got the job of rebuilding the tunnel face at the 10¼-inch gauge Stapleford Miniature Railway, and luckily for me, this fell during the school holidays. The railway had been closed since the ’80s and was being brought back to life, but I hadn’t even known it existed. I went along to work with him, tasked with tramming the stonework from station to tunnel on a flat wagon. I was in my element. Near the end of the job, an older chap called me over and invited me to help prepare the steam locos for their boiler tests. That was all the encouragement I needed, and with my parents’ blessing, I was supervised by the small group of engineers working there: Neil Simkins, Richard Coleby, Bob Moore, and his son David. My folks would drop me off and pick me up, but I owe all my knowledge to those chaps. They never treated me as a kid – I was a peer.
One day, David mentioned “his 60.” My ears pricked up. Hanging in the workshop was the classic Trainload poster of four Class 60s lined up in each sector. David told me he was building one in 10¼-inch gauge – a 14-foot-long body, and soon it would be brought to the railway to show the Heywood Society as a work in progress. David worked at Brush and had been a commissioning engineer on Class 60, so he knew them inside out, and his “model” reflected that knowledge. It was spot on – looked like a 60, felt like a 60. Over the next few years, I watched the 60 evolve and come together, though it was still a long way from finished.Fast-forward to 2000, and I was leaving school. I knew I wanted to work on the railway, but getting a foot in the door was difficult. David asked around and managed to secure me an interview with EWS at Toton as an apprentice fitter. I could hardly believe it when I got the job. I spent most of my time studying locos but also had a good bit of time on the lathe. The Class 56, 58, and 60 were my regulars, with the occasional Class 37 as well. The 60 was by far my favourite to work on – clean lines, everything thoughtfully laid out. I had a few runs out on the mainline, and I always favoured a 60.
I spent a few years away from railways, but the Class 60 had made a lasting impression. I wanted one! I couldn’t have a real one, and I certainly couldn’t fit a 10¼-inch gauge one, but a trip to Warley sparked an idea when I saw some 5-inch gauge Class 50s.I’d used CAD in a previous job and thought, “How hard can it be?” I started drawing a Class 60 with the aim of making a kit in 5-inch gauge. Working from the original drawings, I completed the bodyshell and most of the chassis work. Coming out at 6 feet long, it was a beast! I thought if I could sell a couple of kits, it would cover the cost of my own loco. Sadly, my day job’s increasing workload slowed progress.
When I moved to Accurascale, I had a Zoom interview, and in the meeting, they asked, “What three things would you want to make?” Class 60 was at the top of my list. I’m grateful to Accurascale for finally allowing me to “get on with it.” It was green-lit on my first day on the job over two years ago. I’ve finally managed to put my mark on a Class 60. It’s been a privilege to share my passion for the class and, hopefully, spark interest in its nuances and variations. I’m indebted to David for his advice throughout the design process – who better?
I’ve still got a long list of things I’d like to make, but the 60 holds a special place for me. It’s punctuated my life, been part of my core memories, and I think it always will be.
Enough rambling! Well done for sticking with me. Oh, and David’s 60? After 28 years, it’s still not quite finished – next year’s the year!