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English
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Part 29 of The Extended Railway Series
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Published:
2022-09-03
Completed:
2022-09-05
Words:
3,131
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4/4
Comments:
54
Kudos:
42
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708

Culdee Fell Engines

Summary:

Dear Friends,
It is often very hard to write about the Culdee Fell Railway. Nothing happens there! The railway employs strict safety controls to ensure that no accidents happen, and it is rare any of the engines act out – Patrick has mellowed out significantly since he was bought, and careful maintenance has kept all of the engines in top order. However, recently Shane Dooiney returned from a loan in Switzerland…
The Author.

Notes:

Please do not put this story into an AI for any reason or copy it elsewhere without my permission. Thank you.

Chapter 1: Return to Sodor

Summary:

Bear did not want to head to the mainland to pick up the goods train - but there he was. And when a BR Diesel breaks down, he finds a very unusual delivery on his train...

Notes:

Who thought I was done writing these? I am very much not - but as I said in the book summary, writing something for the Culdee Fell Railway is nigh impossible. But I've done my best, and I hope you all enjoy it!
And if I find the motivation, there will be another book next week!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Bear’s engine growled, then revved up, the diesel dragging the heavy freight train out of its siding and towards the mainline.
“Of course this would be the week BoCo’s certification for BR expired,” grumbled Bear. “And now I’m in bloody Immingham!” Bear still held a grudge against British Rail for their treatment of his class, and this came through as he ignored the harbourmaster pointing angrily at the clock.
“I’m meant to leave now, I don’t care what stupid delay’s keeping the rest of the network, I need to go!” he called out. The harbourmaster stormed over.

“You Sodor engines!” he rapped. “You’re all as bad as each other. A ‘Chopper’s’ broken down just outside the harbour. We’ll need to send for an engine.”
“I’ll go get it,” said Bear tiredly, and he rumbled away without another word, leaving a speechless harbourmaster behind.

The Class 20 was sitting just outside the yard with a train far too long for it.
“They asked me to take it,” the Chopper kept repeating. “I was supposed to handle it.”
“Clearly,” huffed Bear, buffering up and revving his engine loudly. “You’ll need to brake for me, but we can get you into port.”
“Oh yes, thank you.”

Bear dragged the Class 20 through the yard throat, and into the sidings. He uncoupled, and ran alongside. He was almost at the end of the train when he drew to a halt. Sitting on a flatbed three well-wagons from the back, sat a mountain engine in Culdee Fell purple.

“You’re a Sodor engine, aren’t you?” said the engine with a slight Swiss accent.
“Aye, and proud of it,” grinned Bear.
“Perfect. I need to get back to my railway – and I do not want to be flung across this shamble-railway for another day.”
“I’ll hook you up to my train,” said Bear, and he got to work. He had the time – the Class 20’s failure meant that two coal trains and a boat-train were now being signalled through ahead of the Hymek. He coupled the Culdee Fell engine to his train just as the harbourmaster strode back over. Poor Bear had been run around on the loop, and now sat facing the Culdee Fell engine while his driver sat in the cab at the other end.

“That engine isn’t meant for your train!”
“He’s bound for Sodor anyway, it’ll make your life easier,” Bear retorted. The harbourmaster began spluttering about regulations as the signal changed. With a polite honk of his horn, Bear rolled away before the harbourmaster could react.

Bear looked up at the new addition to his train. This wasn’t Culdee or Eric – both of whom he’d met at Crovan’s Gate, but a different engine. He looked tired.
“Where’ve you been?” asked Bear.
“Switzerland,” came the blunt reply. Bear wasn’t deterred.
“Quite the way to go for you, isn’t it? Was it for maintenance?”
“No. I was helping a railway while they got a new engine built.”
“Wow – maybe you could help this railway while they get a new management built in?” The CFR engine cracked a smile, and Bear inwardly cheered. Finally, a topic they could talk about.

“How many trains have you been on since arriving back in the country?” asked Bear.
“Five. I arrived back here at that harbour.”
“What?” laughed Bear incredulously.
“Yep. First they sent me to Liverpool, then London, then up to Gateshead, then back down here. This is train five.”
“Goodness,” said Bear.
“Of course, the CFR never looked into where I was,” continued the engine bitterly. Bear paused – this was new. “No, they didn’t care at all! No railway truly cares about its engines. We’re useful until we’re not.” Bear was stunned! He was about to speak, when the engine spoke again. “Trust me. We all have a lifespan, and it will be over one day.”

“What was your name again?” asked Bear eventually. He looked quite pale. The engine did not reply for some time, and the train continued its journey.

The journey was a long one, and Bear was thankful of the radio his driver was playing in his cab. He didn’t much want to talk to the silent engine on the flatbed behind him – even if he had asked a question. The scenery changed drastically. Wooded meadows became the busy city of Leeds, then onwards towards Carnforth. Bear knew the line well enough – every Sodor train had to enter Leeds, park at the platform and then leave again with the engine in reverse. This normally meant Bear had to stare at the blank face of a truck for half his journey – though this time it had been the silent form of the Culdee Fell engine.

Bear uncoupled and ran around his train, collected his brakevan, and brought it to the rear. Then he coupled up in front and backed his train onto his brakevan. Several passengers watched with interest – and were even more amazed when Bear’s crew reattached the coupling with their usual quick efficiency. Bear raised an eyebrow. A Pacer in the other platform grunted.
“Your crew’s moving so quick – where’s the fire?”
“Nowhere. We just have a schedule to maintain – and we were delayed enough at the docks.” The Pacer didn’t reply for a moment.
“You’re clean.”
“Yes…”
“Must be a newbie. Never seen your type before.”
“I’m not new,” huffed Bear. At that moment, the signal changed and Bear rumbled out of the station. The exchange had taken his mind off the Culdee Fell engine – though he thankfully remembered the engine before he passed Killdane. He got permission from the signalman, and uncoupled the engine from his train, ready to head up the last stretch home.

Just as Bear was about to leave, he heard a voice.

“Shane Dooiney,” said the CFR engine. “My name is Shane Dooiney.”

Notes:

Good news: this book is finished, and will be uploaded over the rest of the weekend. Bad news: I don't have the next book started. Bother. (Adds it to the 'need to do' pile). Yes. That will get done. Hope you all enjoyed, and I'd love to hear some thoughts on what will happen next!

Kudos, comments and shares are incredible and greatly appreciated!

Chapter 2: Alaric

Summary:

Alaric is the Number Seven engine on the Culdee Fell Railway, and is a quiet engine. He does his work, he rarely fusses. So what's causing him problems?...

Notes:

I think I should note that I have the events of this book jotted down as taking place in 1991, following on from 'Frank the Little Diesel Engine', which was from around 1990. I can't believe that this series has spanned all the years from 1973 on until now - and I have plans for at least until around 2004! (I will write a commission for anyone who can correctly guess the plan for 2004!)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Alaric is the Number Seven engine on the Culdee Fell railway. He is a quiet fellow, doing his work without much fuss and with little to say. He’s a pleasant engine to be around, but otherwise is overshadowed by his sibling Patrick. He has a fondness for telling the tourists little facts about the Culdee Fell Railway, though it isn’t often anyone really approaches him.

Tourists always preferred Culdee and Patrick – they were after all the pair written about in the Railway Series book.

One morning, Alaric awoke to a searing pain on the left side of his frame.
“Eric,” he said slowly.
“Yes Alaric?” asked Eric.
“I think something’s wrong with my frame.”

Eric looked worried.
“Don’t tell the manager – you know what he’s like right now!” The two shuddered. The manager had been very grumpy and frantic over the last week, as Shane Dooiney continued to not be where he was supposed to be. The manager had even gone to London on the express to speak to the board of directors from the Other Railway – and yet still Shane Dooiney was missing.

Alaric promised Eric he’d say nothing, and quietly hoped he wasn’t chosen to work.
“Come on Alaric, let’s get ready!” a driver chirped, and Alaric’s hopes were dashed. He let the crew steam him up, then went to collect his coach. As he did, he heard quite the commotion from the transfer siding.

“You made it!” cheered the manager. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” A crane was lifting Shane Dooiney onto the rails. Alaric wandered over, intrigued.
“Hullo,” he said kindly. “How was Switzerland?”
“Cold,” came the blunt reply. Alaric was taken aback.
“Ah, of course. Was the snow nice?”
“It made running difficult.”
“Oh… it’s nice to have you back.”

Alaric puffed away, wincing as his frames clenched in pain. Shane Dooiney watched, his eyes narrowing.

That night, Alaric slunk to the back of the shed to rest, only to find Shane Dooiney waiting for him.
“You should retire.”
“I… what?”
“You’re unwell – I can see it. Pains? In your frames maybe?”
“Well, yes – but I’m sure it’s fine…”
“It isn’t. Your time is up Alaric, go talk to the manager and retire before it’s too late.”
“How dare you?!” roared Patrick. The engines all glared at Shane Dooiney, but he didn’t respond to their questions and accusations. Instead, he just fell asleep.

The next day, Alaric had to work again. He pushed his coach up to the summit, and prepared to head back down. He made it to Shiloh, before slowing to let Culdee pass with an up train. That’s when it happened. Alaric had been feeling the pain in his frames all morning, but suddenly it spiked. There was the sound of metal grinding, and Alaric yelped in pain as something snapped. His entire left side collapsed, and water gushed out of holes punctured in his tank. The crew raced out of the cab to check him over, while Culdee watched on in horror.

“It hurts,” Alaric managed to say, before the pain was too much, and he fell unconscious.

Culdee raced down the mountain as fast as he could safely go, screeching into the transfer station.
“Alaric’s hurt!” he exclaimed. “He… his entire frame just collapsed!” Patrick grabbed the crane and the maintenance coach before rushing up the line, while the stationmaster rang ahead to stop all trains.

Shane Dooiney watched the scene through one sleepy eye, sighing as he closed it again.
“I tried to warn him,” he said.

Notes:

Is this a little dark for the 'General' rating? Perhaps, but I don't think this book quite tips into 'teen'. I am open to listening to any arguments for an increase of rating once the last story is out - but until them I'm sticking with 'General'.

Still - who's got guesses as to what happened to Alaric? Comment down below, and add kudos and share when you can!

Chapter 3: Metal Fatigue

Summary:

They bring Alaric back and discover the catastrophic issue hidden in his frames...

Notes:

Giving Alaric some focus has actually been a lot of fun. This entire railway has just so little about it written (both in canon and here on Ao3) and Alaric himself is one of the two engines who got... two? lines total in the entire RWS and the IOS book. So giving him a starring story was incredible!

I hope you enjoy this instalment!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

They brought Alaric back on a flatbed. He was shunted into a siding beside the shed while a mechanic was brought up from Crovan’s Gate. The line had been closed for the day, and all the engines crowded around the flatbed, worried for their friend. Alaric still hadn’t awoken, and they had had to put out his fire and drain his tank.

“He looks terrible!” gasped Ernest.
“No one knows what happened,” Culdee said mournfully. “One moment he was fine, the next he just… collapsed.”

Eric looked the worst out of all the engines crowding around Alaric.
“I told him not to worry,” he said. “I did this…”
“No you did not,” the manager said, patting Eric on his side tank. “It was my fault. I have taken too little care of this – I should have checked in with you all.”

There was a long silence.

Finally, the mechanic arrived from Crovan’s Gate. When he saw Alaric, he dropped his toolkit in horror.

“What did you do to him?” he exclaimed.
“We don’t know, but he was complaining about his frames,” Eric said.
“It’s metal fatigue,” said a dark voice. The engines gazed over at Shane Dooiney. “I saw it in Switzerland. There’s nothing to be done.”
“That can’t be true!” snapped Patrick. “There’s always something that can be done! We live on Sodor, the land where steam will always be king!”
“There is nothing you can do,” Shane Dooiney rapped. “I know what I am talking about.”

“Okay, that’s it!” roared Patrick. “What happened to you? You used to be so cheerful, and now it’s all doom and rudeness!”
“Everyone’s noticed,” Wilfred said, interjecting before Patrick could continue. “And you seem to know an awful lot about this… metal fatigue.”

Shane Dooiney snorted.
“I ought to. You sent me to Switzerland to replace an engine with metal fatigue after all.” The manager scowled.
“We loaned you to the Swiss to look after a train while their engine was refurbished.”
“Replaced you mean,” snarled Shane Dooiney. A driver hurried over and closed the doors before Shane Dooiney or the other engines could continue.

“We need to focus on Alaric, not arguing,” he said. The mechanic nodded, and strode over to where Alaric sat. He began on Alaric’s right-hand side, carefully checking every inch of the engine before moving over to the damage. He shone a torch in, and gasped.

“Shane Dooiney was right – that’s metal fatigue, and it’s come along badly. His axle is about to sheer off, his frames on the left have shorn and snapped, his tanks don’t look great and neither does his cylinders. I don’t think there’s much we can do for him – he needs to be completely dismantled, and even then, I’m not sure how far the fatigue has spread. He should be fine if we rebuild him… but he’ll never run again.”

They loaded Alaric onto a flatbed and one of the electric engines pulled him away. The manager turned to the remaining engines.

“Today, the line is closed. We will reopen tomorrow, but until then, you are all to head to your sheds and get a thorough inspection from the mechanic. This will not happen again.”

The engines rolled into the shed and the mechanic began his inspection on Ernest.

They looked over at Shane Dooiney.
“I think,” said Culdee eventually, “that it is time you actually told us about what happened in Switzerland.”

Shane Dooiney shot Culdee a dirty look.
“It’s not pleasant.”
“You forget that I watched Godred’s fall. Tell us.”

Shane Dooiney took a deep breath, sighed, and told his story.

Notes:

I have to give a shoutout to you all - the reception for this has been just so amazing! I honestly didn't expect much - I'd been away for a little and this story centres around what may be the least-written about railway on Sodor. Thank you all so much!

Kudos, comments and shares are forever appreciated and valued!

Chapter 4: The Swiss Experiment

Summary:

Shane Dooiney tells the story of his time in Switzerland.

Notes:

Beware, this chapter is a little on the darker side.

That's about it for the chapter note. Enjoy!

(This is partly - partly - inspired by 'Undead Shed' by 22Tesla. Go watch it.)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It all began when the manager received an email from the Culdee Fell’s partner railway in Switzerland, which ran up to some of the highest peaks in the country.

“They want an engine to cover for one of theirs while it is repaired,” the manager said to the engines. They were very excited, and talked amongst each other over who would be lucky enough to go. In the end, the manager chose Shane Dooiney. He had been overhauled not long before the email arrived, and was in the best condition. He left the railway, and was in Switzerland before the end of the month.

Immediately, it was clear there was something wrong. The engine that was meant to go to the works was sat in a small shed off the main yard. They seemed to be in a lot of pain, if the wincing was anything to go off of. Shane Dooiney wondered what was going on, but didn’t ask.

This was his first mistake.

He was told by one of the other steam engines that the engine had ‘metal fatigue’, and couldn’t be moved from the shed until they found a way to stop him disintegrating. At night, the shed doors slammed shut, and the sound of machinery and voices echoed from in the shed. Shane Dooiney couldn’t sleep for weeks.

Then, on the Wednesday of the third week, the sound of creaking filled the air. Shane Dooiney gazed out of the engine shed, and to his horror, saw the engine being driven out of the shed. They were missing wheels, and had strips of metal bolted onto them.

“What is happening?” he asked aloud. Another engine opened a sleepy eye.
“Are they trying to run them again? They’ll make it halfway up the first climb, and then something’ll go wrong.”
“They might convert them to oil burning again,” added another helpfully. “Or maybe they’ll try some fancy new nuclear fuel source.”
“Nuclear?!” gasped Shane Dooiney. “But why?”

The two engines looked grim.
“There’s not enough money in the world to repair metal fatigue when it’s bad enough,” they said. “So they’re trying every idea they have out on the poor thing. Adding layers of sheet metal to stop the fatigue, new fuel sources, modifications, anything they can think of.”

Shane Dooiney was horrified, terrified. The other engines all went back to sleep, but not him. He stayed up, eyes staring out into the gloom. Waiting, watching. The engine groaned back into the yard a few minutes later, but to Shane Dooiney it felt like an era. It was driven back into its shed, and then the doors slammed shut, and the sound of angry voices filled the air.

Then, everything was silent.

“We can’t keep doing this,” one man suddenly snapped in Swiss, close to Shane Dooiney. “The engine will fall apart soon. The sheet metal is infected.”
“Then we will have to send it away,” another voice said coldly. Two men strode into view, and Shane Dooiney closed his eyes tight, pretending to sleep.
“Scrap?”
“Ja.”

The engine was gone by Friday. Shane Dooiney was afraid – and he began to notice this cruelty everywhere. Engines driven while ill, engines isolated for days at the summit during a storm when they shouldn’t have been made to run up.

Shane Dooiney got lucky though. As a Culdee Fell engine, they couldn’t damage him before sending him home, so they were careful. But the other engines just took the mistreatment, never complaining.

Shane Dooiney saw the last snowfall of winter, and then he was on a flatbed heading home. A diesel had been built to replace the scrapped engine.

***

Shane Dooiney’s story ended with an uncomfortable silence. None of the other engines knew what to say. The manager did however.
“I would never, ever do something like that to one of my engines,” he said firmly. “I will not be working with that railway again either. We will do something for Alaric, don’t worry.”

He stormed out, intent on sending some strongly worded emails to the Swiss mountain railway, leaving the engines behind. Nothing more was said that night, and all too soon they were all fast asleep.

The manager was as good as his word. Alaric wasn’t able to return to service unfortunately – doing so would cause any lingering metal fatigue to return – but he was completely overhauled. While he was away, a small brick structure was built behind the station. The engines didn’t know what it was for – but they worried endlessly.

They got even more worried when Alaric returned, and the manager directed for him to be placed in the shed. But the manager was smiling.
“You will be a museum exhibit for our station,” he said. “You will stay in here and you can talk to the tourists, and to the others when they come into the platform. I’m sorry you won’t be able to run again, but this is I hope an alright substitute.”

Alaric was ecstatic! He’d been given the chance to talk to the tourists all day, and tell his stories. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t run again – but he was happy with his new position. One side of his tank was repainted to imitate his boiler, and he was placed comfortably in the museum alongside several other artefacts and photos. Now Alaric is a museum engine, and spends his days telling tourists all about the railway. He is at his happiest whenever he sees children’s faces light up when he says hello, and he is never bored.

Shane Dooiney still works on the Culdee Fell Railway, and after the manager heard his story he cut all communication with the Swiss railway. He can still be withdrawn at times, but opening up about his experience helped the others understand what he was going through and help him.

Notes:

Thank you for joining me on this Culdee Fell climb - it feels really weird to have written a story where none of the usual characters I write with. Not even Duke appeared! Still, poor Shane Dooiney. I feel sorry for him, having to spend time on a railway like the Swiss one. But he's back on the CFR now, and he's never going back.

Next time: Bill and Ben the China Clay Engines!

Kudos, comments and shares are greatly appreciated!

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