We needed to clean up and clear out before 10:15 on Sunday morning. That included making breakfast and packing lunches. Our clean up was not difficult, since our standard was to leave the site cleaner than we found it. The facility served our needs, but they're due for a major renovation/remodel in the coming year. We probably will not recognize it if we had an opportunity to return in the coming years.
After a beautiful Saturday, the skies opened up Sunday morning. We weren't too worried about it as we loaded up and boarded the bus, but by the time we got to the Big Pit mine, it had become truly miserable, cold and damp. Our driver left us off in the lot behind the entrance, which meant we had to run from the eaves on one building to the eaves at the next building as we went about finding the entrance/welcome site. By the time we got to the waiting room in anticipation of our tour of the mine, we were drenched.
We had to wait in a good size waiting room before beginning our tour. We had to relinquish our "contraband" before going down the shaft. "Contraband" included anything with a battery--phones, cameras, watches.
 |
| This letter was written by an errant miner in 1901. He brought a "pipe" of all things down the mine. |
We had to suit up with helmets, head lamps and wet batteries which weighed about five kilos and sat on our hips.
Our hosts were former Welsh miners with terrific senses of humor and great singing voices. Their personal experiences gave them an eerie kind of authority. One miner sang us a beautiful song I'd never heard--"It's a Working Man I Am." Click on the highlighted title to hear the song. I guess it's more well known than I realized, but it was incredibly moving to hear this man sing it a capella while we were in the lift. One of the sites I reviewed in preparation mentioned that the Welsh miners sang as a matter of course as they went down and came up out of the mines.
I know it's a cliche, but I kept remembering the old Roddy MacDowall/Maureen O'Brien/Walter Pidgeon film, "How Green Was my Valley"--one of my mom's favorites, set in the coal mining region of 1930s Wales. I remember the film featured Welsh choral singers.
Our guide was a man named David Williams--a name I daresay is fairly common in that part of the world. It was the name of one of my professors when I was an undergraduate. Mr. Williams was softspoken, but had a razor sharp wit. He would make a joke and then slyly check our responses. At one point, he took out a little plastic container on which he'd written "Viagra" and offered one of our female members a "pill" (it was a Tic Tac). After our visit, I told one of my friends I had gained a newfound appreciation for Tom Jones's appeal.
David took us 300 feet underground--not very deep, but it was still impressive. He mentioned that whole families worked in the mine. Children (boys and girls) as young as five years old worked as "trappers" keeping doors closed between different sections of the mine so as to control ventilation and to prevent a build-up of gasses. Parents would occasionally tie their children to the door to make sure they would stay put and could be found by parents. While they might have had a candle or oil lamp, if these went out, it was pitch black. These poor little ones often had to sit in absolute dark for hours at a time, waiting until they saw the lantern on the coal dram pushed by one of their parents. David had us all turn out our headlamps so that we could gain an appreciation for the depth of the dark these kids experienced. As children aged, they would take on new jobs, such as pushing the drams or leading the ponies in the mines.
Our host, David, told us that when he started in the mines, he worked with the ponies. His job was to muck out the stables once a day and feed the ponies. They had to send up the waste daily because of the gasses emitted by their waste. David told us the mine owners insisted the ponies be fed three times a day, whereas the miners themselves ate only once a day.
We saw the stables where the ponies were kept. The stables each had a plaque with the ponies' names on it: Skipper, Maxwell, etc. David told us that eventually, the mine owners realized, after the unions came in, that it would be cheaper once a year for two weeks to bring the horses up to the surface while the miners took their holiday. They would blindfold the ponies and have to give them a number of hours to settle down before they could enjoy their own holiday. Imagine being in the dark for so long and then being exposed to the light. Those poor horses were so restricted. In the old days the horses were destroyed when they were no longer fit for mine work. In more recent years the horses retired.
We also learned dogs worked in the mines alongside the horses and miners.
The Big Pit mine is still considered active due to the regular tours. While we were on our tour, one of the other guides, Des, was charged with using the flame safety lamp to check for levels of methane and
black damp.
Our guide, David, stressed a number of times how dangerous the mine continues to be.
David also gave a brief history of the power of the owners, describing the coercion involved in forcing coal miners to be paid in tokens which could only be used at company stores. The owners would charge increasing amounts which forced miners deeper in debt and more beholden to the owners. Ultimately, miners formed unions and used the power of the strike to fight against the owners.
It was rather fun to see the canaries still in residence at the mines. Apparently, only males were taken in to the mines as the males sang.
We learned another risk was associated with a signal system using wires which, when struck, sent an audible signal, but also created a spark. David told us that the spark cost a number of miners their lives.
It was surprising to learn that a safety mask, or rebreather, was introduced only in 1970. David emphasized that the Germans had them since 1953.
Another feature of the mine which made it such an important living site, was the water which continues to run through the mine. The major difference is that today it runs through pipes. When the mine was operational,
it ran over the miners' shoes.
It was a fascinating and surprising visit. I was under the impression that visitors from the U.S. don't often make their way to this site, but we learned that Ann Romney had visited some time earlier this year. Apparently, she has Welsh heritage. The guides didn't seem terribly impressed by her.
We were treated so very well, as was true everywhere we went in Wales. I've become a major fan of the Welsh.
No comments:
Post a Comment