Thanks Ian - very intereresting Allowing for inflation a vapouriser should be in today's money: £11.70 (based on £7.05 in 1995 - £6.00 including VAT) and a new M320 should be £88.50. quote from inflation calculator: The inflation rate in United Kingdom between 1995 and today has been 67.11%, which translates into a total increase of £0.67. This means that 1 pound in 1995 is equivalent to 1.67 pounds in 2021. In other words, the purchasing power of £1 in 1995 equals £1.67 today. The average annual inflation rate has been 1.92%
Very interesting. It’s also testament to the demise of British industry. Enough sub-standard lamps to include them on their price list.
Others may know better abount Willis and Bates, but many "old" british industries failed to modernise and become agile or flexible to react to maket conditions. Too many staff, high redundancy costs, pension fund deficits, expensive fixed property costs, underinvestment in R&D, underinvestment in plant and machinery, lack of "cost" engineering and other factors I am sure. Into this for W&B add that the MOD no longer wanted pressure lanterns, and falling public interest/demand.. I suspect the "substandard" lamps were probably MOD rejects that failed inspection due to superficial defects.
You never visited the Pellon Works, obviously! I wrote an account of my visit and posted it here but I'll not be able to find it now. It was quite an experience!* I tend to agree about the MOD rejects - I had a military Vapalux with a sticky label marked B.E.R. which I took to be 'beyond economic repair'. The fault? - a slightly bent pump-rod which took me 30 seconds to straighten with two light taps of a hammer. Even quicker to replace it with another one... * found it! "It was quite an interesting visit. I landed there just at the start of the lunch-break and not wanting to disturb the artisans within (no doubt happily munching away at the contents of their 'snap' tins), I went back into Halifax for a wander around. Returning to the factory at the end of lunchtime, once I'd managed to find the entrance, I walked through grass a foot high, thumped a couple of times on the door and it was eventually answered by a grubby brown-coated gentleman. I explained that I'd come to have a look around the lamp museum they had. He clearly hadn't a clue what I was talking about so I tried to explain that I'd heard they had a museum with an example of every lamp and lantern they'd ever produced. That brought a glimmer of understanding to his face but still no offer of entry. I then mentioned that I'd also come to buy some spare parts. At this point the transformation in attitude and interest was marked - clearly the prospect of money changing hands was the magic key, and before anyone could say 'Open Sesame!' I was whisked inside. I was led into a dark and dingy space with no windows and only one feeble lightbulb for illumination. The floor was rough and uneven; the walls appeared to have been rough-plastered and perhaps had been white-washed sometime during the reign of Queen Victoria but not since. In the centre of the space was a huge filthy table somewhat resembling a welders bench and covered with the black detritus of the ages. In the centre of the bench was a Tilley X246B - I kid ye not - a Tilley X246B! Once my eyes had become accustomed to the gloom, I perceived, seated around the walls, perhaps half a dozen scruffy individuals still munching away at their snap held in their filthy black hands. They viewed me with some curiosity until my leader, nonchalantly pointing at me backwards with his thumb, announced with heavy irony, "This 'uns come to look at our lamp museum" which, I can tell you, created no end of mirth for what seemed like half a lifetime. I was then led through a somewhat lighter area with a glazed roof, being careful to circumnavigate the many puddles of rainwater which had obviously leaked in over the past few days. At the end of this I encountered another man in a grubby white coat. This was the Works Manager, Peter Sunderland. Explaining what I wanted to see, he led me to his 'office' which was a kind of lean-to shack which had been constructed against one of the factory walls. Therein, holding up the ceiling was a wooden bearer from which hung maybe 8-10 lanterns ranging from an E41 right up to a 320. In the middle of these was 'The Holy Grail' - a Vapalux do-nut - and I explained that it was this I'd most like to see. He did deign to lift it down and I was allowed to photograph it for a couple of minutes. I think at that point I either got too close to it, or asked too many awkward questions about it or he just got bored with me and it was peremptorily whipped away from the desk-top and safely returned to its previous position hanging from the ceiling. Clearly, my allotted time with the Vapalux do-nut had expired. I then explained that I'd like to buy half a dozen of the Tilley 606 vapourisers that they made. "Oh", he told me, "we haven't made any of those for years!" At this point I was tempted to ask, 'well why the ***k are they still listed on your website, then?' but didn't. Anyway, sensing that (a) I had money on me which was (b) burning a hole in my pocket, he led me to a room which had a huge pile of lantern boxes stacked in it. These turned out to be M1B collectors' lanterns and I said I'd like to buy one. I had to tell him how much they were listed at on the website (which I did honestly, including VAT). He said that VAT didn't apply if you bought anything at the factory. I was dubious at that but not about to argue so I mentioned the list price excluding VAT. He rounded it down a bit from there to a sum you could easily pay in notes and I handed over the cash which he quietly 'trousered'. He picked up a box, opened it (presumably to make sure all the accessories were in there), resealed it and the next thing I knew I was back standing on the grass outside! If I hadn't had the M1B, still re-sealed in its box and a considerably lighter wallet when I got back home, I'd have sworn it was all some kind of strange dream - very surreal indeed!"
Hi @David Shouksmith - no I never visited them. Bythe sounds of it and I have been to similar workshops/businesses so I guess my observations hold true. A very well told and amusing anecdote tho.
Nice background story, made me smile. @Mr cod I think this remarkable price list should also be found in the Library, as an evidence of times that are gone Matthias
That was your cue to go off and check Google Streetview! Since no-one did, I've had to do it myself now. It looks like the factory is still there although possible smartened up a little:- Odd that I can't remember that reservoir, although the clue's in the name of the road, obviously. I can't even remember the embankment although at the time I was focussed fully on finding some sort of entrance to the factory. The grassy area through which I eventually found the door was opposite the orange and white van parked in Reservoir Road. Here's a view inside the factory - from Ian Ashton's book:- L-R Peter Sunderland, JJ, the new owner and Stuart Kendall, the former owner...
David , do you have any clues as to what happened to the vapalux donut that you mentioned earlier. Regards ian
@David Shouksmith : It's called a brain fart, David! Believe me, you will survive... I have lots of them!! (what was I just doing???)
Well, shortly after I was there, all the lanterns I'd seen hanging from the roof (including the do-nut) were put up for sale at £2000 - I was sorely tempted although that was a lot of money. However, I thought the other lanterns could be sold and offset some of the cost. Before I could act, they were taken off sale (I seem to recall someone got to the seller and told him he wasn't asking enough!) and they subsequently appeared on eBay. They sold for £2,800 in the end which was far too rich for me. I was re-united with the do-nut (and another as it happened, belonging to Steve Woods) at Newark one year. I think the guy who bought it was a bit embarrassed at how much he'd paid. I can't remember his name but he lived on the South Coast somewhere (doesn't cut it down much - sorry!). I've no idea where it is now but I wonder if he wants to sell it... I can't remember which of these was the one at the factory. I did try to slope off without the owners noticing but didn't get very far... There is at least one other do-nut in existence and I've seen a photograph of it but the person who sent it to me had been sworn to secrecy and wouldn't tell me who owned it or give a location beyond the name of a county. I'll respect that and not mention it here. Bugger! - now I'm yearning for a Vapalux do-nut again. Funds waiting...
Despite the good-humored narration by David I find it a rather sad story. But I guess most endings of once proud enterprises are not of the uplifting kind, with often the same factors and defeat abound.
