Hiding in plain sight

Not strictly true, but this little single-armed beauty was within 500yds of my dad’s house. We still call it dad’s house, but it isn’t really any more since he, ahem, moved upstairs –

was rather than is
and did but never does
a fully paid up member
of the past participle club

As must we all be one day. I have surely walked past this pole before as it is on a popular footpath alongside what is known locally as “The Inland Sea” which itself is accessed via an underpass from the Cob at the edge of Y Fali (Valley Village) on Ynys Môn (aka Anglesey). Until the early 2000s, Y Fali was actually called Dyffryn – which means Valley but was changed (against my will if I’m honest) to be Y Fali to sort of rhyme with what the locals and the RAF bods – who make an eternal racket all bloody day long – call the place. Clear as custard.

I was on a bird-watching loop of the area when I happened upon this. My regret is that I didn’t go back and take a photo of the dobies to see what age it was. The neurodivergent in me was also particularly attracted to the 12 neat wraps of barbed wire which could almost be an aerial winding for some giant’s crystal set which would only ever pick up Radio Athlone from 55 years ago.

A tall pole along a well walked footpath between two hedges.  The pole has various telephone wires emanating from it and a single arm about four foot from the top with 4 white screw top insulators.   The pole also has several winds of barbed wire at around the 8ft level.

Ukraine Poles

Just to prove that we’re not limited to poles in the UK & Ireland. Here are three make do and mend jobs from Cherkasy in Ukraine courtesy of Bruce Burrow. Looks a bit parky for my liking. What Bruce is doing out there is anyone’s guess. Anyway, titchy pictures I know – must be to do with the cold.

Pole #898

You might look at this pole and see just a run-of-the-mill 7 metre BT light Pole from 1988. Two dropwires, no crossarms, no insulators., but a placard declaring that it is pole #898. Oh and it’s in black and white. Well, this is a pole with a story. And I’ll relate it pretty much as it came to me.

Mark Scott is an author and researcher who was delving in to the family history and persecution of Charlie Warmington’s (see prev post) family at the hands of the Nazis and discovered that Charlie’s great aunt and uncles were, in fact, resistance fighters in Nazi occupied Vienna – for which they paid a heavy price. Anyway, Whilst Charlie and Mark were on a trip out to Vienna to discover more they found themselves, typically, in a pub at the end of the day.

“During one of these sessions I wanted to show Charlie a photograph of a boat, a dilapidated Dunkirk ‘Little Ship’ moored in bad shape, that I had discovered. I flicked through the photos on my phone with Charlie looking on and suddenly he shouted ‘Stop, stop!’. He stopped me at a photograph I had taken of Telegraph Pole 898 which lives not far from me.

Charlie asked could I send him the photo, which, incidentally was taken using a Leica iiic camera and Ilford FP4 film. I sent him the image then and there. Then he asked if he could forward it, ‘Of course’ I said. He told me he had a friend who would be delighted to see my photograph of Telegraph Pole 898 and he was very excited to know I had taken such an image.

I am very proud of the shot, for reasons I know not.”

I received several pole photos from Charlie – mostly around his home in Newtonabbey – but never this one until now, courtesy of Mark. I think we’re way past Pole of the Month for this one. It will henceforth, forever now be known as the Charlie Warmington Memorial Pole. And below is a mini-placard that I have just ordered and have every intention of attaching to said pole.

Meanwhile, Mark’s book is called “Transport Number 4” and will be available online immediately after the launch event.

Pole of the month for January 2026 is a 7m light pole with just two dropwires and a little placard that says it's pole #898.  The photo is in black and white
A blue plaque with white writing which says "Pole #898, in memory of Charlie Warmington, forever the Roamer

Pole of many arms

John Goddard wrote to ask “What is the best way to date a pole? There are no plates or etched marks on this one. It ran along side the old north midland railway station at Darfield South Yorkshire. The photo of the old now long gone station below shows two of the post, now fallen asleep per the remaining pics. The station was built in 1840 and the tunnel behind was scalped in to a cutting in 1899 so the post must date somewhere in that range but would really like to know a more exact date if its possible”.

I could have replied with 17th March 1864 and few would have been able to disprove me. Last quarter of the 19th century is about as far as I would dare hazard. Anyway, a vintage pole like this is a serious find. And I wouldn’t mind betting that with some grubbing around in that undergrowth may produce some fine vintage insulators too.

Answers on a postcard as to whether, in the second photo below, you can just see either (a) the tip of John’s finger or (b) the tip of John’s nose.

A vintage 9 armed pole at Darfield, S. Yorkshire. Tree foliage behind

Canute’s Poles

posted in: Found Poles, Oddities

A short walk down the coastal path from Llanon, Ceredigion, brought us to this rich stash of retired poles. They’ve clearly been part of a coastal defence scheme attempting to hold back the fierce Irish sea that smashes into this wild part of Cardigan Bay. The pole steps and inspection placards still visible on many of them. Ultimately the whole project was futile and the coastline has continued its eastwards march and is now some five metres beyond the “barrier” – now just an isolated run of skew-whiff sentinels, embarrassed at their own failure to be any help. Do see how the base of some of the poles has been gnawed away by the abrasive sand and pebbles. I spent a lot longer examining this wrecked wall than is decent even for an extremely curious nerd.

POTM & The Christmas Rush

Apologies if you’ve been waiting on an order from us. They are all now in the post but there was this tiddly little pole we wanted to take a look at you see. Only it was in Ireland. This required a four hour drive up to Holyhead, an overnight, then the 9am ferry to Dublin, then another six hour drive back up to the top left hand corner to find it. We didn’t tell anyone we were going as we tend to leave the key under the mat and last time, Auntie Brenda came in a tidied the place up. Now we can’t find a thing.

This must qualify as the cutest pole in, well, anywhere really. It’s short single arm with its solitary clipped off insulator serves to highlight the road-to-nowhere feel about the place. It’s the sort of pole you might find in a Flann O’Brien novel*1. The sky being the lighter of the two shades that this part of the world normally provides. This is just off the R238 at Leckemy on the back road to Moville near the quarry. I’m going to call it my Pole of the Month.

Another pole of interest is one that I once sailed past on Lough Swilly, just above Fahan (pronounced Farn) marina. Talk about past glories – this pole is no longer connected to anything, not even the house beyond the hedge. But it does shout to me “contender for calendar 2025”. One more photo is a fine run of power poles intersected by a rainbow near Inch island which happened to be on somebody’s special birthday and it kept on bloody raining!

And finally, the reason for the Christmas rush might also be my last chance to plug our wonderful 2024 Telegraph Pole Appreciation Society calendars. Here is mighty June. Can’t wait. Get yours <here>.

*1 The Third Policeman. Possibly the finest novel written. Ever.

The Telegraph Pole Appreciation Society 2024 calendar, showing June, with a very complex looking pole head arrangement.

More from the Cuckoo Line

Albert Einstein’s Special relativity indicates that a correspondent may experience relativistic time dilation when expecting the email and photographs they sent to be published within the same inertial frame of reference from the recipient’s standpoint. Or something.

This is the only way to explain the near three years that have elapsed since Matt Brown’s email(s) and photographs were transmitted to the TPAS HQ inbox. And, hand on heart, I’m not sure I even understood that first paragraph.

Matt and his family are regulars exploring ye Olde Cuckoo Line (click to see previous article on subject). Matt is also a car restorer and is rebuilding a GPO Morris van. Now, the photographs you see below are from a series of emails and so I will summarise them here. Most are serendipitous finds along said disused railway line and nearby woods down there in East Sussex. They are hunting for telegraphic artefacts for the making of their very own pre-1960’s garden pole. The yellow truck you see is a forest find GPO truck as once used by TV detectors et al. Other gems in these pics: An undated pole with a star shaped cut out where the date might be, A GPO crown transfer (presumably for the van restoration), a selection of spooky tunnels, culverts and iron railings and a couple of restored Morris van panels.

Not the best photographs in the world., arguably. And camera not in the steadiest hand in the world. With Dutch angles particularly on the tunnel shots. And arguably, not the highest resolution camera in the world. But we enthusiasts can find interest in pretty much anything. Thank you Matt. I imagine you must have finished that van by now.

Poles of the Oban Oblast

Fresh back from a lengthy return trip for some R&R near Oban, Argyll. Interesting overnight on the way up at the delightfully eccentric Ecclefechan Hotel but did the return journey back to west Wales in one pergatorial go – just stayed in bed the next day to recover. Anyway, herewith a selection of the tall, wooden, sticky-uppy things with wires coming out of the top that I spotted within a small radius of our home for the week – Gallanach Castle (see last pic). Poles here also from nearby isles of Kerrera and Lismore. The two penultimate pictures showing how we subsisted despite having a castle kitchen at our disposal.

A Nude Linesman in Oz

 I can’t believe how long it’s taken me to get this post up on to the website. Jerry Deacon, who sent this to me, can’t believe how long it’s taken either. And Jerry, I’ve just realised is none other than (previously plugged on here) Kilgraney Sleepers (now railwaysleepers.com) – the place to go for old railway sleepers (the clue is in the name) but also old and new telegraph poles for ornamental and nerdic use. Nice plug for you there Jerry; I trust that this is adequate recompense for my tardiness.

Anyway, back in March. Jerry wrote to tell us that as an intrepid explorer he came across Hamelin Pool Telegraph Station (1884) near Shark Bay in Western Australia. There is a definite passion for telegraph poles in Oz. In October 1872 the Overland Telegraph line between Darwin and Adelaide was completed, and the Australian telegraph network became linked directly to Europe (termite attacks notwithstanding). Hamelin station was established as a repeater station that linked Western Australia into this same network. And this is the last of these stations still extant. Now, for some reason, it features, quite prominently, a nude linesman attending to the pole top apparatus. Why this should be is anyone’s guess and Jerry offers no explanation, nor does anything at the station itself. Though he did suggest Nude Pole of the Month as a possible new feature for these very pages. I’m going to pretend he never said that.

Moochin’ about in Mullingar

Messing about in Ireland again! Well I only live a modest distance from the ferry at Fishguard, so it’d be churlish not to. A splendid overnight in James Joyce’s former watering hole, the very fine Greville Arms Hotel, in the midlands town of Mullingar in Co. Westmeath. Mullingar won’t ever win any tidy town awards but it had an old Irish charm all of its own. And the railway station had a further delight for us in the overlooked, disused and too-close-to-everything-to-chop-down ancient telegraph pole you see below. And a station on a bend is worth two in the bush or something.

People who like telegraph poles often like old railways too and vice-versa. I’m no different. So next day we found ourselves at Castletown (5 miles SE) walking ye olde rail trail that once ran between Mullingar and Athlone (you remember Athlone don’t you?) Our meeting, along said trail, with an elderly Irish gentleman whose wonderful accent and false teeth that rattled as he talked is a story for another time, perhaps over a pint of something black and nourishing. Anyway, this trail still has lengths of track in places and is a haven for wildlife. In fact, Ireland is fully fifty years behind our UK depletion of nature. I hope they learn from our mistakes. The final photo in the sequence is a delightful croc-face replete with insulators and insulating coat of ivy. This was on the way home in Co. WIcklow. Without further ado.

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