Well it’s allright for Andrew Rowsell (#0466H) – he works for BT so he’s out there all the time and gets to see lots of telegraph pole oddities.  Luckily for us though, he’s now an honorary member of our most esteemed, august and elite society.  So he sends them to us and for which we are extremely grateful. 

This amazing splinted utility pole specimen he photographed at a place called Three Waters in Cornwall.  Surely it must have been easier to just put up a new pole though?  All photos gratefully received – please send them to martin@telegraphpoleappreciationsociety.org. 

Thank you.

 Meanwhile, a request from Dan Newby from Internetshire.

I am looking for a manual on a KS-19935 L7 Test Set. Made for Western Electric by Stelma, Inc. in Stamford, Conn. USA.

Any suggestions?

Aren’t we all?  Anyway, do drop us a line if you can help Dan, or if you even know what he’s talking about.

Finally, just to let you know that Jack Nesbit’s new website “British Insulators” is now up and running.  In it he showcases his collection of telegraph pole insulators.  I believe he intends to display them all mounted on crossarms like the example he sent me, below. 

W e can almost imagine the telephone conversation that led to this…

“Hello, thanks for calling BT.”

“Er, hello, Hulton Lane builders here,”

“If you’re calling from the number you want to talk about press 1 now”

“Oh ok! But we were wondering if you could move your telegraph pole so we could finish building our house?”

“Please enter the full number of the telephone you’d like to talk about.”

“Look, your telegraph pole is right where we want to build our house.”

“You’ve now got four choices”

“And you’ve got to get it shifted, or these lads’ll be on overtime.”

 “If you’d like to place or check on an existing order press 1 now.”

“Look, is there somebody there who I can talk to about this telegraph pole?”

“If your call is about billing or payments, press 2.”

“No I’m not calling about bloody billing!”

“If you’re moving home and want to stop your service, press 3.”

“You’ll be moving home in a minute if you don’t answer my question. 

“If you’re calling to report a fault or need help with any of our services, please press 4 now.”

“Oh sod it!”

“Right lads, it’s not going anywhere so build the bloody thing around it.”

Thanks to Jay Davis of Somerset for sending us the photo.

Someone at the Shropshire Star is also a connoisseur of telegraph poles I suspect.  For no other paper has quite so many stories about them.  Here they are again, from 14th March edition.

Thanks to Andrew Rowsell for sending this amazing photo in.  Andrew works for Openreach.  Those lovely people who connect up people’s lovely telegraph poles so they can have the lovely internet and that.  And if I may have said anything hasty about BT and Openreach in previous posts you have to understand it was in the heat of the moment and I didn’t mean it.  Oh God! Please don’t disconnect me.  It wasn’t me.  It was my brother.  He made me say all those bad things.

All I know about this wireless telegraph pole is that it is somewhere in the Solent area.  Look, there’s blue sky so it can’t be Wales.  This is either :

1.  An interesting new take on finials.

2.  A really massive novelty pencil sharpener.

3.  A warning to other teddys.

Ready for the quick-fire round, fingers on buzzers, here is your starter for ten…

Just what the hell is that thing?

I spotted this object half-way up an electricity pole at Ddôl Cownwy near Lake Vyrnwy in mid Wales.  I must have stood and stared at it for ten minutes or more – straining hard to bring up the slightest notion as to what it could be.  It looks like some bizarre upturned salt-pot/indicator lens hybrid.

It seems to have the side-light lens off an old Austin Maxi and a sort of screwcap. If it is a lamp though, then it must be battery powered as there were no discernible wires.  But then what is it lighting?  Useless as a street lamp as it was in a field some distance from the lane.

Sorry, but I’ve exhausted my wonderment gland trying to figure it out, and my speculation cortex fairly aches.  I’ve since spotted another one near Welshpool too.  So if anyone out there in telegraph pole land can enlighten us, then our gratitude will be yours and we’ll emanate some positive vibes into your direction*. 

* Please state compass bearing for effective vibe transmission.

N ever, not ever, would I have expected a telegraph pole to make the front page of any newspaper.

I’d just popped into the garage at Four Crosses to stock up on Wham Bars, Maltesers and pink pop, when this headline shouted out at me from the cash desk.

On an otherwise quiet news day in Shropshire Star land, this at least justifes my disclaimer (top left) This story relates to an 11KV electricity distribution pole, but it’s a tall wooden thing, with wires coming out of it, so it must be a telegraph pole, right?

T ypical!  No photos of telegraph poles growing through roofs of houses for months, then all of a sudden two come along in quick succession.  Ian Jolly very kindly sent us the photo for November’s pole of the Month.  Then, this week, Peter Freeman sent us another photo of the same pole, only from a different angle.  Don’t bother visitng Combe Martin to gaze in awe at this wondrous pole, because apparently it’s not there anymore.  The pole that is, not Combe Martin. Which, I believe, does still exist – hanging, as it does, off the A399 in Devon.

EXCLUSIVE

As has so often happened in the past, a rare event or ghostly apparition has been captured on film whilst the photographer’s attention was on the intended subject.

In this case, I was taking pictures of ye olde telegraphe poles along the B5105.  It was only much later when processing it for inclusion on this very website that I noticed the bizarre patch of blue lower right. 

I felt sure my photograph had inadvertently captured a small piece of blue sky – that fabled phenomena which occurs when the rain stops and the clouds part or thin sufficiently such that an observer may see the sky behind.

My wife wasn’t convinced. And I needed to know so contacted Simon Keeling at Weatherweb.net.  He examined my image in the minutest detail and with some of the most cutting-edge forensic photographic equipment.  He also re-examined the weathercasts for the day in question and re-ran the meteorological models using all the sophisticated computing power at his disposal.

His answer was clear and unambiguous.  “The photograph was taken in August.  In Wales.” he said. “Your camera’s knackered!”.

I have now bought myself a Samsung ES71.

T hese pictures were meant to go on the site 2 years ago (almost to the day).  Then we had that problem with the back-boiler.  And the car failed the MOT, and then the cat needed worming, and they just sort of slipped down the back of the sofa – until today that is, when I retrieved them, all covered in cat hairs and with a half-chewed fruit gum stuck to the back.

These antiquities are from the collection of John Penny – member #0307 – yes; that John Penny.  The author of a four-book trilogy comprising the two books: “Telegraph Poles I have known and loved” and “Great Poles I have climbed”. The latter, featuring the tale of the infamous DP3 in Wine Street, Yeovil.  Now sadly a shadow of its former self having had a goodly portion lopped off the top.

John has spent an entire working life swinging around the tops of DPs in his native Dorset. And now spends his days gazing out at the Peugeot estate car on his drive.

A facsimile of the one on the right now adorns our letter box.