VOICE
A voice from
the woods
90 AUGUST 20 19 FORESTRYJOURNAL.CO.UKI
T’S possible that this past month, July 2019,
will go down in sawmill history as one to
forget.
One of the mainstays of sawmill life is a
little seven-and-a-half-tonne truck. Not only
is it used for deliveries, but also to keep the
sawmill tidy. We only have a small yard and
can be quickly overwhelmed with offcuts and
sawdust. So, as well as making deliveries,
the truck is constantly ferrying deliveries of
sawdust to auction marts, stables and farms.
With the driver away last month on holiday,
I was the only individual with the necessary
‘cards’ qualified to drive. This meant starting
at 4 a.m. and doing a couple of sawdust
deliveries before returning to the mill at my
usual time of 6.30 a.m., so I was mightily
relieved when he returned.
In hindsight, by clearing the yard of
sawdust, I’d done myself a huge favour as
an impromptu visit by the Health and Safety
Executive (HSE) proved uneventful. Dust is
the latest HSE stick with which to beat you
and to not have it in any quantity was a relief,
especially as the weather has been so hot and
dry.
The little truck is now getting quite old and,
despite being in good condition, reliable and
regularly maintained, I knew that sooner or
later all this would count for nothing as VOSA
increases its surveillance of ‘old’ vehicles,
regardless of mileage or condition. With this
in mind I had reached the conclusion that
sometime soon I would have to replace it. I
had something slightly larger in mind, but this
would require a driver with a full HGV licence
which, employment wise, was a completely
different proposition. I had recently hired a
new driver who seemed determined to reverse
into things every time he left the mill and left
me with a constant trail of destruction. Gate
posts, greenhouses, land rovers, electric gates
and even the doctor’s house all quivered when
this guy took to the wheel.
The cost in time and money was inhibitive,
so I have now replaced him. The person I have
in mind is currently operating the forklift and
holds an HGV licence, but needs the CPC and
Digi cards in order to be able to drive. I’ve
been subjecting him to a series of tests which
he has so far (without realising it) passed
with flying colours. In addition, he’ll muck in
with any task in the yard (which the previous
driver wouldn’t do) and on attitude alone this
is a huge improvement. With this in mind, areplacement vehicle is back on the agenda.
In the meantime, the existing truck is now
being driven by a temporary guy who is past
retirement age but whom I have offered to put
through the HGV test as backup. Although he
needs a job, he selflessly declined, which I
thought was a very magnanimous gesture.
So, with all this going on and having had
the existing truck recently MOT’d, safety
checked and with a full workshop check-over,
I thought nothing of sending it out on a job
down the A1. When the driver reported he’d
been pulled over by VOSA I wasn’t really
concerned, until they slapped a prohibition
notice on it; the reason being, a leaking brake
actuator on the rear axle. Anything else and
I would have thought ‘bad luck’. However,
having been around trucks for my entire life, I
did feel the inspector had been unreasonable.
Brake actuators have never changed and can
be a little fickle at the best of times. They are
designed to work on a constant pressure, i.e.
you put your foot on the brake. I’ve tested them
in the past and, for whatever reason, when you
ask someone to assist by pressing their foot on
the brake, they respond by priming the brake
pedal. If you do this and the actuator hasn’t
returned to rest, then a small amount of air will
leak.
So, under scrutiny, all you need is a nervous
driver with a shaky leg, police cars with
flashing blue lights, swarms of officials in
shiny high-vis jackets muttering “rhubarb”
and the scene is set! For a small businesswhich relies on its key components, such as its
delivery truck, what ensued was nothing short
of disastrous. Strangely, despite the prohibition
notice, the VOSA officials allowed the driver
to complete his deliveries before taking the
vehicle to a garage.
Had it been up to me, I would have fixed
the problem there and then. However, they
insisted that because I didn’t have the ‘correct’
facilities, it would have to go to a garage.
Lack of mechanics meant that a week passed
before a new actuator was fitted and then
a fortnight passed before the VOSA official
could come out and inspect it. Then he
cancelled at the last minute and it was a month
before the little truck got official clearance. In
the meantime, I bought a new one.
Trying to run a business like mine without a
truck has not been easy. In fact, it’s been a hell
of a month, but by employing hauliers for the
bigger loads we’ve managed to get by. I feel
particularly sorry for any small business trying
to make a living involving a truck.
Saturday, believe it or not, is one of our most
important days of the week. How we clean,
maintain and organise the yard determines the
success of the forthcoming week. Spending
these valuable days stuck in a classroom,
listening to someone drone on about
something completely unrelated to the job I
have to do, just so I can have a piece of paper
with a CPC tick on it, is quite depressing.
It’s almost a process of endurance, as I learn
nothing. My mind wanders onto the important
things I need to do: customers needing
firewood; jobs at home; clearing sawdust;
invoicing; jobs for the HSE; mountains of
paperwork for VOSA; litigation from the
council over the permit for the treatment tank
they themselves said I don’t need... and yet
here I am stuck in a classroom miles away
listening to this drivel. And wait, what’s this?
I now have to watch a documentary about
immigration officials searching for illegal
immigrants in Dover. That should be useful
in rural Northumberland! We’ve even had