We've probably all come across them. Those poor souls whose life is filled with mishaps of one sort or another.
I had one such bloke as my chainman.
He was a very likeable and dependable fella but prone to regular happenings that fortunately were never serious despite the potential to be disastrous.
He was a city bloke, short and not the best at jumping fences.
They were tackled by climbing to the top strand , treating it like a ladder then standing very precariously on the highest wire (more often barbed} then jumping off and hopefully landing right way up.
Well one day he came violently unstuck when reaching the top he hadn't noticed the plumb bob string had become entangled in the wire, whilst the 16 oz brass hunk was attached to his belt.
He did his usual swaying to and fro then leapt off. The string being by now tightly wrapped around the top strand locked fast and he landed in a very ungainly fashion on the ground.
We would cut bush pickets for chaining to, and again, not being a "bushy" he sliced off the first small eucalypt he saw, swung it over his shoulder and proceeded to cut the points on both ends with the axe. (that's an acquired art that separates the men from the boys).
He hadn't realised the sapling was also a home for ants who took strong objection to their home being rendered useless.
You can imagine the rest as they invaded his arms, neck hair. Ouch!
Another time, stinking hot, clad in shorts and boots with no socks we pulled up in the scrub and he got out of the vehicle for a fag (gasper, cigarette).
The track we were surveying was actually an old railway and the line had been graded of ballast which was windrowed out to the side. Perfect stuff for creepy crawlies.
He hops up on to the mound beside the track, lights up and takes in the surroundings. Standing on an ants nest in boots, no socks and shorts is not recommended. These were our Jack Jumpers. Black ants about å?" long, fierce blighters with a savage bight and were relentless in their attacks. Not ones to bite and leave, they continued to attack.
Now as unpleasant as it was, it looked hilarious, but the pain and discomfort lasts for days. You don't mess with our Jack Jumpers.
Road surveys were traverse and cross sections. We'd drive spikes in the bitumen every 20 metres. Those familiar with bitumen surfaces know how hard a decently made road can be.
We used axes (5å? lb ones) to drive the spikes.
I was watching him drive a spike home when the axe sheared off the handle and shot straight up in the air about 5 feet. How it missed him I'll never know, but thankfully it did. The other option doesn't bear thinking about.
He was also a forgetful bloke and more often than not would leave his plumb bob behind.
It was rather annoying and one day I knew he didn't have it when we headed off to continue where the previous days measurement had got us to. About å? of a mile later we started our survey. No plumb bob! Bit like leaving the prism pole behind in modern surveying. There was only one thing for it. 1å? miles later he was back ready to start the days work.
But there were those lighter moments. He loved antiques as did I, and along with his wife ran a small antique business.
He had an uncanny way of sniffing out items from the many farms we'd visit in our surveys and would find and buy stuff at often bargain prices. I benefited by also picking up items for very little monetary investment. We have a magnificent red pine 7 drawer chest of drawers. $2 in 1975, complete with a silver four penny piece I found later.
He was a good chainman, an excellent one, but what some would deem a liability.
Thankfully the latter despite many mishaps and close shaves, never turned those potentials into realities.
( thought we could edit the topic? Did something change?)
Some people spend their entire lives trying to climb uphill. No matter what they do, something will knock them back down. I suppose, statistically speaking, there must be people on the other end of the spectrum who have never experienced disappointment, injury or loss.
What I've noticed about your part of the world is everything out there looks particularly hazardous. Just making it out alive after a day of surveying is a feat unto itself.
I had a fella back in the 80's that had a very strong passion to become a field surveyor... he had maybe 10 years as a drafter.
He was and Excellent drafter, great at plotting topo and breaking contours (correctly) straight from the field notes. Truly understood the math and geometry. Also a wiz at ink on mylar, hand lettering every bit as clear as a leroy, but much quicker.
We gave him a try for a couple months in the field. "Where the Sidewalk Ends" is where he needed to stay...
I lost track of him, he was laid off when winter hit. Too bad there was not enough work (inside or out) to feed thru the winter.
Just making it out alive after a day of surveying is a feat unto itself
Those lizards are impressive indeed.
We were camped outback once years ago and it was my first introduction to them.
Fascinated by their ability to climb trees we were far less impressed when one headed towards our tent and dived under the ground sheet exiting at the other end. We must have set tent on his path as there was plenty of room to bypass it.
Snakes are the only thing I have concerns for,though some spiders are deadly, even featuring in a song.
Main snakes here are those Tiger Snakes, highly venomous.
Wife hates snakes. We've had them inside and I've had to relocate at least one each year.
Her aversion goes back many years though.
We honeymooned in our highland country. Walked in, pitched tent and galant new husband tended to her needs with cooking and extolling the virtues of our wilder parts of Tasmania.
However, the euphoria soon waned when packing up the ground sheet we saw at least å? dozen little snakes lying where we'd made bed for the last few days!
Now I imagine that last story holds true to "one of several chainmen in my life" as she had accompanied me and held the pole on several surveys.
Think the last time was a rural job where she backed the pole into an electric fence. Seemed to knock the enthusiasm for helping me.
Funny stories. Thanks.
All the brit slang too.
Bloke
Fag
Gasper
We used to have three man crews, hired guys off and on till they found something better or stuck it out and became interested in doing this stuff (can't imagine why).
So I'm in an OJ Bronco, with a guy in the back and a guy riding shotgun. We come up to a gate that accesses a large energy company's land. It was always unlocked but difficult to open, very tight, probably on purpose.
I wanted to see how the newbie handled it, it looked like a hernia was about to happen so I got out to show him a few tricks, you know take the wire in the center of the gate and pull really hard stretching it usually works. So I did that, he got it opened (not a very big guy) and I drove through.
I parked and waited a bit, the guy in back who was kinda encased in a bunch of gear taps me on the shoulder, I look back, the shotgun guy had closed the gate but he's on the wrong side, he can't get it back open so he starts climbing through it.
He has a down coat on and it rips, he gets in the truck with feathers flying everywhere, I reach into the console and hand him a roll of duct tape. It was like a black cloud hovered over him, stuff like that seemed to happen to him a lot. He went off to engineering school.
MightyMoe, post: 357908, member: 700 wrote: He went off to engineering school.
fully understood
Richard, post: 357822, member: 833 wrote: Snakes are the only thing I have concerns for,though some spiders are deadly, even featuring in a song.
Main snakes here are those Tiger Snakes, highly venomous.
https://surveyorconnect.com/threads/no-august-september-october-photos.323978/#post-341225