A Buyer's
Guide to
Steam

A Survey of the current
small scale steam
scene conducted by
Jack Wheldon

One end of the spectrum. The Mamod SL1, externally fired with oscillating cylinders. (photo Mamod)

More than a decade after steam vanished from Britain's main line railways we find ourselves with an abundance of live steam models unknown since the early years of the century. In the 'fifties and 'sixties, when standard gauge steam was in decline, it was quite difficult to obtain a new steam-powered model-indeed, it was usual then to look first to the second hand market, where they could be had cheaply. Of course, the specialists offered fine machines built to order, then as now (one thinks for example of Mr E. J. Cooke of Coleford) but from the 'sixties until just a few years ago, there was virtually only one firm offering live steamers straight off the shelf, and that was Archangel Models. Then came the great resurgence of interest in garden railways and live steam; radio control became increasingly popular, and now we have a list of at least a dozen firms and individuals offering almost every type of live steam locomotive.

Now, the world of steam differs from that of electric models in a very important way. We take it for granted that an off-the-shelf electric model will 'go', and when we contemplate buying one, however keenly we examine its appearance, we tend to give only half a glance at the motor, which is probably a standard item manufactured elsewhere and chosen by the loco builder because he knows it to be right for the job. If we want to see the model run before we pay down cash, there is no problem; put it on the rail and switch on the juice. With steamers the case is far otherwise. However pleasing and true-to scale the outline may be, it is the engine's ability to move itself under steam that concerns us first of all. How long does it take to raise steam? How long will it run on a shot of fuel? What is the capacity of the boiler? What can it haul? Is it easy to operate-is it indeed manageable? Can one get to the parts that need regular lubrication? Is it heavy on fuel, with meths costing £5 per gallon? These are the questions we ask when we think of buying, but mark this; we cannot get an answer until the water and oil are in and the fire lit, at which stage the model is no longer a new one in the same sense of the word as an electric one that has just been switched on for the first time. It was because of the importance of getting an answer to the questions I have listed that the late 'LBSC', (L. Lawrence), laid down his famous maxim, 'Never part with money until you've seen it in steam'.

But here is the rub. 'LBSC' was thinking of passenger hauling engines and private deals between model engineers, whereas we are thinking of quantity-built models purchased by mail order and in shops, where the purchaser may well be a man who knows little of the quirks and fancies that seem to occupy the soul of every locomotive that moves by steam. The difficulty is that the performance of a steamer, even a very simple one, depends in part upon the performance of the driver! So, when a model purchased over the counter or by post fails to satisfy the expectations of the new owner, neither he, if he is not up to all the steam-operating tricks, nor the vendor, can be sure whether the fault lies with the engine or its operator. It has been known for a vendor who has received bitter complaints to take back an engine and find the thing working perfectly-the purchaser simply didn't know how to make it go. Again, models that have been taken back have shown evidence of tampering that rendered them inoperable. And, of course, occasionally models are bought that should never have been sold.

Let me tell two anecdotes on this theme. The first illustrates the risk of buying an unknown quantity; the other, the risk to the loco builder posed by the unskilled purchaser.

Back in 'sixty-three, when steamers were difficult to come by, I saw an advertisement by a New Zealand firm offering a small range of engines. I ordered one; a four wheeler. It proved to be a travesty of a locomotive. There was a brass boiler and a tin meths fire, and a crudely bent bit of tinplate that served as frames, running plate and 'superstructure'. Inside the 'cab' was a tiny oscillating cylinder with a soft brass pinion on its shaft, which drove a sharp tin contrate on the rear axle. The aluminium wheels were not coupled, and the engine did not exactly run because the drivers slipped under no load. Rather, it slithered along, and it did not slither very far, because in no time at all, the tin contrate cut all the teeth off the soft brass pinion, where-upon the cylinder revved up, and the trunnion pin fell out and was lost for ever. A curious point about the advertisement was that it promised a bottle of 'real steam oil' with every locomotive. Certainly a tiny flat bottle of brown glass was in the carton with the engine, but whether it contained steam oil I cannot say, for the substance inside it was so viscid that it would not pour out, even when the bottle was warmed. It may have been steam oil, but on the other hand it may have been concentrated dinosaur grease; it was of no use either way to that tiny oscillating cylinder. No one could have known that this engine was such an inadequate thing from a brief and truthful description of its makeup. It was indeed constructed of steel and brass, with a geared transmission!

My second story concerns a chap who bought an expensive internally- fired job. Before steaming it he stripped it completely in order to paint it. When he re-assembled it he found that his costly engine would not go; worse, to his chagrin it actually caught fire and burned all the new paint off. Convinced that he had been sold a pup, he complained bitterly to the manufacturer, only to learn that in stripping the engine he had unsealed the smokebox bottom, and had failed to render it airtight again before steaming... This chap certainly knew how a locomotive worked, but he was not quite knowledgeable enough, and his complaint was not justified.

From all this murk and confusion we can grope our way to the understanding of two lessons. First, if it was possible to buy a pup by mail order years ago when steamers were few, one may conjecture that the possibility remains today now that so many more people are offering steam locos of all shapes and sizes. I don't say it is so, but it could be so. Second, while it used to be possible in the old days for loco builders to give a sort of supplementary educational course to their patrons, it is most unlikely that such a benign service can continue long today, with newcomers to steam so very numerous.

There is yet another matter to be considered. Apart from wishing to know whether the engine we desire to possess will go, we

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