One of the downsides of working at the Metal Box factory in Strood was getting there. Strood was about eight miles from home; once again, public transport was not an option, especially when starting at 6 am or finishing at 10 pm.
I was not old enough to drive a car, let alone afford one, and it was too far to cycle on a bike daily. The solution was a motorbike of some description. As a sixteen-year-old who had yet to pass a motorbike test to get a full motorbike license, I was limited to bikes that were less than 250cc. Dad “found” me a suitable moped. The moped had been stored in a shed for several years, was very rusty, and had a non-running engine. I cleaned the worst of the rust and repainted it; if I remember correctly, I painted it grey and orange - we must have had some of this paint lying around. As chief mechanic, Dad got the engine running with a large hammer and a block of wood. The moped only had a single seat - I remember it being exceptionally comfortable, and I am not sure the engine could have managed a pillion rider. A homemade wooden storage box behind the seat was suitable for storing waterproof trousers and other small items. I used this moped for about a year; it was not fast; downhill with the wind behind me, you might get to 25mph. If I remember correctly, wearing crash helmets was not a legal requirement when I started riding motorbikes. However, I always wore mine and a bike jacket plus gloves to protect me. The lighting on the moped could have been better, and it was difficult to see and be seen in the dark. One evening, on my way home from college, I was hit by a car pulling out from a junction and was knocked off the moped. It was a slow-speed accident; I was not going fast, however much I might have been trying, and the car was only moving slowly, catching the back wheel and flipping me off.
There was hardly any damage to either me or the moped.
This lack of performance and the poor lights, coupled with me starting to work shifts, necessitated a motorbike with a bit more get up and go. I persuaded Mum and Dad to help me purchase a better bike to commute on in the form of a second-hand 125cc Yamaha.
The Yamaha lasted a while until I passed my motorbike licence test and was replaced by a lovely 250cc Suzuki T250 motorbike. Passing the motorbike test back then was a lot easier than it is now.
It was a straightforward test with the examiner standing on the side of the road whilst I rode around a square block of streets waiting for him to jump out from behind a parked car to test my reaction to an emergency stop. You failed the test if you knocked the examiner over!
Sometime during my apprenticeship, I must have turned 17, as that was the minimum age I could learn to drive. I started having some driving lessons and passed my car driving test on the second attempt. By this time, Mum and Dad were a two-car family. Dad had a car he used for work and family outings, and Mum had bought a car as she had found a job and returned to work. Occasionally, I was allowed to borrow Mum's car for some essential needs, but not for general social reasons. So I sold my Suzuki T250 and bought my first car for the grand sum of £250.
In any sensible world, my first car was not really for an inexperienced young new car driver; a Ford Lotus Cortina was, in those days, quite a performance car. For a start, it cost me about £100 a year ( a lot of money at that time) to insure it, and I could only get third-party insurance - thankfully, the roads are nowhere near as busy or congested as they are these days. Most of these cars were painted white with a green stripe, but mine was a red one; I remember the registration number - YVW 310F - I don't think it exists now, probably crushed or at the bottom of a scrap heap now, as I had to sell it at auction.
It was a heavy petrol user; it only drove a few miles to the gallon and required 5* petrol, which has also disappeared from sale. With the oil crisis and other government and industrial issues, people were not buying this car. Although I tried to sell it by advertising in the local papers and the Exchange & Mart magazine, it didn't sell, so it went to auction. I remember I got back what I had initially paid for the car from the auction. When I looked online for a picture to include here, I found a similar was sold at auction in 2019 for £26,000 - a pity I couldn't have afforded to keep it - hindsight is lovely!
One of my primary reasons for having a car was commuting to the Metal Box factory at Acton in West London. During the last two years of my apprenticeship, you were required to attend several training courses and pass company exams to mark the formal completion of the apprenticeship. I typically participated in these courses with a couple of other apprentices from the Strood factory. We each took turns once a week to drive to West Acton; during the week we were in Acton, we stayed in bed and breakfast accommodation, where we were also given our evening meal, eating lunch in the Acton factory canteen.
The early part of 1975 was a busy time; my apprenticeship would end on my 20th birthday at the end of May. There were college exams to take - and I had been doing day release once a week since I had started my apprenticeship. There were also the company exams and practical tests to do at Acton. Generally, after the apprenticeship, you would become an engineer in the factory where you worked, in my case, at Strood. Whilst this was not guaranteed, it had been custom and practice for years. Unfortunately for me, this was not the case in 1975; the economic and political situation in the UK was at one of its many low points. Typically, you converted from apprentice to engineer because the factory would have vacancies to fill or people were leaving, retiring or even expanding the factory; none of this happened in 1975. Everyone with a job was not moving; there was too much job insecurity. I remember being told there would be no job at Strood at the end of May, and I would be effectively out of work. However, I do remember being at Acton doing previously mentioned exams and being summoned to see the head of the training schools; in those days, department heads had the title of superintendent. The training school superintendent had quite a reputation for being grumpy and bad-tempered, not someone to get on the wrong side of. I was shocked to be summarily summoned; I thought I was in trouble for something; had I done something wrong? So, I was shocked when the superintendent spoke nicely to me. He told me that he understood the situation I was in at Strood. He explained that there was an engineer vacancy at Acton and that he would like me to interview with the Acton factory Personnel Department about the job. Of course, I said yes. I had an interview with the Assistant Personnel Manager and met the production plant superintendent where I would be working. They must have been desperate, or I was impressed at the interview because they offered me the job! More of this in the following story.
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