Train lovers stoked and ready to go

26 June 2006

When I arrived at the Victorian headquarters of the Australian Model Railway Association, Gary Danson was busying about with cleaning duties while fellow club member Geoff Tate was leafing slowly through old railway magazines in the club’s library. It was a midweek afternoon. We were the only ones in the old RSL building.

Danson is one of life’s whirlwinds, darting here and there, his strides hitched low and an old beanie flopping around on his head. His strength is organising. He takes care of the logistics of the club’s model-railway exhibitions in halls around Victoria.

Tate’s strength is artwork. He paints the scenery that offsets the many miles of train tracks in the club’s main 'layout,' as the elaborate set-up of tracks in the basement is known. At the time of my visit, Tate was painting a miniature bridge for the layout.

While the men bring varied strengths to their duties as club members, both came to their love of trains at the same age. Both claimed that they were three years old—four at the most, said Danson. He was on a train trip from Melbourne to visit family in the Riverina, in New South Wales. It was not only the trains that fascinated him; it was the comings and goings at the station at Cootamundra, where trains diverged to different regions of NSW.

Tate was three when he went with his family to Melbourne’s Spencer Street Station to see off his father, who was resuming army duties at a camp near Albury during World War II. A giant pair of hands hoisted young Geoffrey on to the footplate of the engine. The boy stood fascinated as the railway workers set about shovelling coal, checking gauges, preparing the Spirit of Progress to lurch into life.

Now, at 69, Tate says visions of a steam engine lurching to life form part of the soul of every train-lover. The engine’s hissing and panting suggests that it’s living and breathing. The visible workings of the engine lend further opportunity to imbue it with a sense of life. Danson likens the steam engine to a dragon.

The diesel engine, by contrast, is considered anonymous. 'It’s a box', says Danson. 'You don’t see the workings'.

During Tate’s working life, he had a series of jobs, including several years as a signwriter. 'When I worked in the city, I spent every

ARTS AND CULTURE

Train lovers stoked and ready to go

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