A Story

Andy B
Tuesday, October 22, 2002 2:27 PM

Today I performed something that affected me deeply. I don't know why it did, because it shouldn't have.

At 15.00, I was asked if I would be interested in taking a tram to Preston Workshops. As always, I jumped at the chance because I love to get out of the usual routine and do something different. I asked which tram it was. Z1.74. No problem - what's it going there for? It's going to Bendigo for preservation.

For a split second I froze. I would probably be the last driver to drive this tram on the Melbourne network. At 15.20, I opened the door with my PE1 key. With a small scrape, the doors opened and I stepped inside. There was a funny smell to it, like one of death. My eyes looked around the interior. A slashed seat. Some grafitti. Some chocolate milk that hadn't been cleaned up. All pretty common. But I also saw something else there. I saw the probably millions of people this tram had carried throughout her lifetime. I saw the schoolkids crowding in the aisles at 3.30pm, jostling to get home. I saw the driver struggling with the fuses trying to get a defect fixed. I saw the couple snuggling at the back of the tram, cuddled in each others arms after a wonderful night out on the town.

I opened the console and checked all the switches. Everything worked fine. I closed the console and removed my key. I walked to the other end and repeated the procedure. Stepping outside, I checked the sand pipes. All but one was dropping sand. I got the point bar and gave it a gentle tap. Sand dropped out. I tested it again, and there was no blockage. It was if the tram knew this was her final run in Melbourne and she wanted to put on a fine performance. I took one last walk around the tram. I thought about the accidents it had been in. Had it killed anyone? If so, whose lives had been affected?

I got back in the cabin, shut the doors, checked my mirrors, gonged once and moved off. Before leaving the depot, I rang fleet operations to tell the operator who I was, which tram I was in and where I was going.

I had already decided on my route: From Glenhuntly Depot I would shunt at Sth Caulfield Junction to travel along Dandenong Rd and then into the city. Once in the city I would shunt at LaTrobe & Swanston, then again at LaTrobe & Elizabeth to run via St Vincents Plaza and St Georges Rd. The taxi voucher in my pocket would bring me home.

But everything didn't quite go to plan. At Dandenong & Hawthorn Rd, I nearly collided with a motorist determined to get in front of me while I turned left. I deliberately chose to go via the reserve track on Dandenong Rd so I could give her one last chance to stretch her legs in Melbourne.

After a bit of shunting, I was in LaTrobe St at Elizabeth St about to use the crossover to take me up LaTrobe St. I went to close the console, but the Forward/Reverse switch wouldn't move. Panicking, I thought maybe I'd not closed the rear console properly. No - I remember checking it twice! Looking in my mirror, I saw a City Circle tram behind me, followed closely by an A class.

Using some initiative, I decided to continue forward, and travel via Spencer St & Bourke St, and turning left into Victoria Pde.

You sneaky bitch, I thought. Your working life probably started out on Bourke St. And you wanted to say goodbye.

After negotiating the intersection at Nicholson & Gertrude St, I made my way through St Vincents Plaza, and then moved swiftly up Brunswick St. As Brunswick St became St Georges Rd, I quickly realised that this run was coming to and end. This tram would be stabled inside the workshops, stripped of it's ticketing equipment, before being loaded onto the back of a truck for transport to Bendigo.

I slowly made my way up St Georges Rd, but the workshops were approaching fast. I turned into Miller St, shunted on the crossover, and stopped the tram outside the entry gate. I pressed the intercom. "Security".

"Hi, this is Andy from Glenhuntly. I have tram 74 for you".

"Ok, 74. What was your name again sorry mate?"

"Andy".

"Thanks".

The gates groaned a little as they opened, ready to swallow the tram. Slowly I moved the tram past a row of B's, W's and Z3's looking on.

I turned onto a road, which I cannot remember the number. As I brought the tram to a gentle stop, I thought to myself "this is it". Funnily enough, the F/R switch was now working perfectly. Yep, sneaky little bitch. For the last time, as a public transport vehicle, I turned the switch from `FOR' to `OFF'. I lowered the pantograph and waited for the soft thud on the roof. I turned the battery off. I closed the lid of the console and removed my key from the barrel.

Standing up, I took a look inside the tram. I picked up the point bar, to take it back to Glenhuntly with me. For a reason I don't understand, I decided to leave it with the tram. I placed it on one of the front seats. It will probably be picked up by a Workshops staff member and thrown on the pile with others. Loudly I said "Thank you, and goodbye" before stepping outside, pulling in the mirror and locking the front door. I took one last look at the tram standing there. I thought "You are very lucky. You are going to a place where people will look after you, restore you, treat you with respect, admire you, and appreciate all your efforts. Many of your brothers and sisters won't be so lucky - they will probably end up on the scrap heap after being scavenged for parts".

I thought how lucky I was too, to be the last person to drive that tram in Melbourne. I also thought how horrible it was too, that after years of (mostly) faithful service I was the one that was leading it away. But I remembered it would be going for preservation, and would be in good and capable hands. I wanted so much to take a photo of it standing there, but I had forgotten to charge the digital camera the night before. Then again, some of the best photos are stored inside your head.

I took one last look at the tram, smiled and turned away, heading towards the security hut so I could call a taxi back to the depot.

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