Tramcar rides

My uncle, Mc Kenzie David was a conductor of the trams. His job was to make sure that everyone, on entering, paid the required amount and he punched out the ticket on a machine slung over his shoulder.

His job called for a bit of athleticism. As a conductor, he hustled along the running board, holding on to the side rails while the tram was in top speed. Actually they could not exceed 15 miles an hour.

Tramcars rails were in the middle of the road. It seemed to me that tracks were everywhere — South Quay, Frederick Street, Park Street, St Vincent Street, Tragarete Road, Cipriani Boulevard, Keate Street and Charlotte Street all up to the big silk cotton tree at the entrance to Belmont Circular Road.

The word ‘Transfer Station’ was part of every commuter’s vocabulary. This was at the corner of Park and Frederick Street and as the name implies, without paying extra, you could transfer to another tram from there to any location whether it was St Clair, Broadway, Cocorite or as far as Four Roads which was the longest run.

Sometimes when the tram was in motion, a traveller would run along, grab the side bar, jump onto the running board and take his seat.

The authorities frowned on hopping tramcars but hoppers were admired as heroes.

At the terminus, the driver who stood up all the time between two panels operating the tram with both hands, simply removed two levers, took them to what was the back of the tram, installed them on similar panels and that became the front of the vehicle.

Also, the conductor detached a cord tied to a pole above the tram, which received its electricity from the overhead cables. He then placed it in the opposite direction, the wooden backrests of the long seats were also turned and the tram headed back to the Transfer Station. My maternal grandfather told me that when he was a boy, mules used to draw the tramcars. Checking the history books revealed that mules did pull the trams from 1883 to 1895 when all trams were electrified.

They were scrapped in 1950, and the silent speedy trolley buses bustled in their spaces. Big iron wheels ‘clankety’ clanking along were heard no more. It was not until 1963 that I took another tramcar ride. After visiting the battlefield at Waterloo, some of us boarded a tram in the old part of Brussels in Belgium. Nostalgia filled my mind and I was child again taking a ride round the Savannah.

Yet, stark historical evidence of their existence can still be seen. Opposite the QRC roundabout, on the ground inside the Savannah near to the sidewalk, just as you turn to head north, you can still see about ten feet of the parallel rails on which the tram once travelled.

As funny as the following sounds, it is true. Checking information on the tramcar, my brother, Cleaver, reminded me that occasionally on a Sunday when the tram was extremely crowded, it was unable to travel up the incline opposite the Archbishop’s house.

The conductor would throw sand on the rails and if that failed, the passengers would come out and push the vehicle to the top of the Rock Gardens obliquely opposite the entrance to the Botanical Gardens. There they boarded the tram once more and it jogged along merrily on its way.