Page 203 - It's a Rum Life Book 3 "Ivy House Tales 1970 to 1984"

eventually managed to get the machine out into the open and I thought that this time I
would managed without any further problems. Little did I know exactly what was to come!

My second attempt had drawn quite a crowd. Everyone in the works seemed to be taking
their morning break at the same time, and early, to watch my antics, that promised to be
most entertaining.
I added a third strap. These thick, man made fibre lifting straps are officially tested and
guaranteed to lift the required weight they stipulate so with three I was covered for six
tons.

All was ready and after careful double and three times checking everything was ready, the
lift began.
I had the lorry so close there was no more than an inch between it and the machine. I had
the jib cranked double at its maximum lift capacity and revved the engine to maximum
speed. The pump beneath the gearbox was rattling away and with an extra roar from the
lorry engine, the machine rose steadily and slowly until it was virtually level with the lorry
body.
All I had to do then was swing it aboard.

On reflection, perhaps I took it just too slowly. Perhaps I should have just gone for it and
lifted the thing rapidly and plonked it down on the lorry. The straps were fine this time, but
the machine never made it.
Perhaps on reflection it was that swing request that did it. That little bit of extra effort I
demanded that was the “straw on the camels back”.
Quite suddenly, just as I began to swing the machine, there was an enormous bang and
the whole thing gently subsided back onto the ground. My immediate reaction was a
feeling of relief that it had not been half on and half off, as the machine would have tipped
over and certainly broken into small pieces as it hit the floor.

I had lost all power. The crane controls would not respond any more and a large pool of
sticky smelly hydraulic oil was pouring towards my feet from beneath the lorry.

No, it was not just a hydraulic pipe, the whole hydraulic pump had burst its casing and the
large bang like a grenade, had been the explosion that had spread small pieces of pump
casing, valves, springs and goodness knows what else over a wide area beneath the lorry.

I had to give up at this stage and admit defeat. I telephoned my yard from the factory office
and explained what had happened. My first thoughts were, “did the Rundle family know
what my new nickname was?”
They were not to be defeated, I was instructed to wait for a mobile crane.

THE MOBILE ALMOST DEFEATED
While we were waiting I persuaded the foreman to use his fork lift to put my crane jib back
on the lorry.
I then spent the remaining time sweeping up all the countless small pump pieces into a
dustpan and saving them for the hydraulic pump repair. A job I just knew would be down to
me!

A large four wheel mobile crane arrived within a couple of hours and I explained the
situation to the driver.

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