As the river Stour travels across the wide expanses of Suffolk, passing through seemingly empty space, worlds of habitation occasionally spring up along its course to greet the traveller. Towns and villages like settlements and colonies are dotted along its path, the way planets may one day greet the bold interstella space explorer, and it was one of these that was home to the Stour Fleet academy. Occupying a small office on the top floor, and sharing a reception area with at least 20 other small firms, the academy was housed in a large, modern office block. The Stour Fleet Academy was a brand new business venture (I had read on the internet when I booked) that provided a training service to fleet operators, both large and small, so that their drivers could obtain CPCs. It was here then that I arrived early on a Monday morning, keen to be enlightened in the art of Safe and Fuel Efficient Driving (SAFED).
I announced myself at reception to a young girl sitting behind a very high desk, the sort they have at police stations to stop the sergeant being throttled by irate lorry drivers with prohibitions issued because of `air coming from the bottom of the unloader valve`. “Stour Fleet Academy?” I said. “I`ll call him for you”, the receptionist said and then, with too much of a smile for my liking, “Have fun”. I sank into a chair opposite the door of a small lift and waited. A couple of minutes passed before a bell sounded, an illuminated sign above the lift door showed the letter G, and the door opened. Walking briskly into the reception area, I saw the man I assumed would be my instructor for the day. Dressed in clean and pressed drivers' working trousers (the type with stitched creases at the front) and blouson jacket to match, he quickly scanned the empty foyer and settled his gaze on me. He took one pace, stopped momentarily, and then leaning forward very slightly, as if about to topple, or walk, he took hold of the front of his jacket with both hands and pulled down on it. With that, and in one continuous movement, he made for me, hand held out.
“Luke”, he said, “and you must be TW”. We shook hands, exchanged pleasantries and were soon back in the lift heading for Luke`s office and the command centre of the Stour Fleet Academy. “Bridge”, Luke commanded in a loud and clear voice directed into the ether, as we stood waiting for the doors to close. Luke leaned backwards with both hands behind his back and surreptitiously pressed one of the numbered buttons on the lift`s console. I glanced at the receptionist through the closing doors; she was trying, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh.
Once in the office, a small room with walls panelled in a light, reddish wood and little else, apart from a desk made of wood that matched the walls, Luke went and sat in his chair, and leaned back in it. I stood in front of him - I seemed to have little option - and looked around. On the desk I saw a baseball, a flute and a chrome radiator badge from a Foden. “Relics”, Luke said, pointing to the badge, “a little hobby of mine”. Behind Luke, on a window shelf, I saw a model of a Volvo Globetrotter tractor and trailer, in unpainted white. Luke began. “We`ll go for a run about and see how we get on”, he said. “The course I use ensures exposure to a variety of challenges. In some areas there are pedestrians that will come at us like a meteor shower as soon as the traffic slows to a stop/start pace. In others, long stretches of straight featureless space will test our powers of observation and concentration. And, don`t forget, fuel is important; it can`t be warp speed all the time”.
I was pleased that we were soon down in a yard behind an adjacent warehouse and I was sitting in the passenger seat of a Volvo tractor, the subject of the model I had seen just minutes before. The tractor was attached to a fully loaded curtain trailer, also in white but with black sign writing from a rental company, You and Us Enterprise. “When we get back”, Luke said, “We`ll put her in cargo bay four”. I looked over my shoulder at the single, continuous loading platform, behind which none of the shutters were numbered.
Out on the open road, Luke started his demonstration drive while laying out the principles of safe and efficient driving. Observation was the first point he covered: “Long range scanning”, he called it. Lifting vision enables you to anticipate hazards, he explained, and predict the movements of other vehicles, cyclists and pedestrians beyond the immediate vicinity of the front of the cab. “On screen”, Luke said, making it sound like a command, but pointing to the mirror on the outside of the door beside me. Mirror work was critical. “You should always know where each corner of the trailer is”, he said. When I frowned he added, “I didn`t say you should be able to see each corner, just know where it is. That will deal with static objects; mirrors do the rest and deal with moving ones”. Position was next. “Take command of the road if you have to”. It wasn`t long before we were out of the town and, as is often the case, travelling behind another truck. “Don`t come up too close to the War Bird in front”, Luke said, as he came off the throttle. “You can look up his nearside on a left hand bend and see what`s coming up if you are back far enough. All this, of course, will help with fuel economy”. War Bird, I thought, that`s a new one – though, when you look at what goes on these days, somehow fitting.
The idea is to give yourself time to deal with incidents, I soon became aware, and time is achieved by distance – seeing things well ahead gives you the time to prepare for them in advance. “It`s the same with fuel economy”, Luke said. “Take this wormhole, for example”. I saw we were approaching a roundabout. “Once we`re in it, it`ll be too late, so we`ve got to get it right from the start”. We were closing on the roundabout as Luke said this and I watched intently as he started his approach. “Look ahead and see what`s in there already”, he said. "Off gas and judge your gap. Brake if needed but if you approach it steadily, hopefully you won`t have to. Get the gear”. Luke block changed the Volvo`s manual gearbox, “and we`re in”. I had to admit it all went very smoothly. No energy wasted through braking, no racing of the engine – a comfortable and safe passage through to the other side. “With a real wormhole”, I said, “you wouldn`t be able to see what was in it”. Luke looked pleased with this observation. “Most drivers approach the event horizon so fast it makes no odds”, he said. I had to agree to some extent - drivers these days seemed to treat give way lines as if they`d just leapt out in front of them.
We stopped at a cafe at the start of a dual carriageway and went in for tea and toast. “Ten-Forward”, Luke said, as we climbed out of the cab. Ethel’s, the sign stretching the entire length of the roof said. We walked in to a homely, warm atmosphere of chat and the smell of cooking. “Luke”, the lady behind the counter looked pleased to see him. “The usual”, she enquired, and then together, both their voices as one, “Tea, Earl Grey, hot”. After which, she smiled, he smiled and I smiled, but out of awkwardness rather than any understanding of the thing they seemed to share.
We sat at a table close to a window looking out on the lorry park. I would drive after the break, Luke told me, and he wanted to see all we had discussed put into practice. “Keep her going”, he said, “It takes more energy to get her going from standstill, so if you can, trickle along. Judgement is crucial. Judge gaps, light changes, everything. Keep the revs low, let her lug a little, there`s plenty of torque in these new engines. Plan ahead using the methods we`ve seen this morning”. “Ok”, I said. “Inertial dampers”, Luke said, “they`re ever present. Higher the speed, the more they work – against us. Air resistance, rolling resistance, it`s all friction trying to slow us, and the faster we go the more its effect – disproportionately so. So, we can help by keeping the revs down as well as reducing accelerations. Gentle with the throttle, gentle with the brakes, stay in high gear – that`s the way”. “Ok”, I said, again.
Walking out to the truck shortly after, another driver approached us, obviously intending to speak. “Still trying to give drivers the benefit of your limited knowledge are you Luke”? He said, walking straight on by. The unfriendly, bitterness of the remark surprised me a little but Luke seemed not to be phased by it. “Q”, he said, raising both eyebrows. “Now, remember what we discussed”, Luke said, once we were sitting in the Vovo. Then, after lifting his right hand and accompanied by a flick of the wrist, he delivered the instruction to move off with the word “engage”.
We continued along the dual carriageway for a while, taking care to watch our speed, and not just for reasons of economy: “this is the Dominion of the local traffic police”, Luke told me. He instructed me in the advantages of using the tractor beam (variable cruise control) which allows a more relaxed and fuel efficient drive in most cases, and the proper use of the photon torpedoes (headlamp flasher). "Why have the rear of another truck ten feet in front, unless you have to", he said. Eventually we turned off and travelled through a number of towns and villages, each with varying road widths and junction layouts. The road took us to a village surrounded by hills, I could see trees high up in the distance in every direction. It wasn`t long before we began to climb a steep gradient, as the road climbed up to a church in the centre of the village. I automatically reached for the gearstick, “Hold on, Number One”, I heard Luke say. “Let her lug”. We were slowing rapidly. “We`re losing power”, I said, “We can`t go on like this”. Luke lent over and shielded the gearstick with his clip board. “We`ve got to", he said, "she can take it”. A deep and, to me, telling vibration started to shake my seat. “Shields up”, Luke shouted, and I went for the gear lever. I block changed into low range, missed third and took second. “Give her all you`ve got”, Luke shouted again and I planted my right foot. To my amazement the Volvo dug in and hauled all 44 tonnes of us over the brow of the hill, the engine revs still, to my ears, remarkably low.
My lesson seemed to be over for the day and we drifted back to the yard, effortlessly – I felt relaxed and comfortable with my new found mode of driving. I quizzed Luke a bit about his plans for the future and if he thought his business would grow. “I`m not really in it for the money”, he said. “I love machines and trucks, that`s all. I do my thing. And I know how much damage trucks can do, not just to individuals in accidents but to the environment, as well. I know, I`ve been there”. I didn`t press him on this last point but instead agreed with his general idea. “You`re not wrong there”, I said. Luke looked out of the window to his left, at the countryside rolling by, “Not everyone would agree, there`s a lot of resistance, and denial. Many drivers don`t see this sort of training as gaining a new skill. There`s a lot like Q”. “I can imagine”, I said. Luke continued staring out the window. “We`ve had so many changes to contend with in the last decade, it`s hard for a lot of drivers to keep up. But changing driver behaviour is important”. “The big one”, I said, “the future”. Luke looked straight at me “It`s the final frontier”.
I collected my certificate and proof of training before I left and made my way to my car, which I had left behind the warehouse where the Volvo was parked. Looking up at the cargo doors I could just make out some faint figures coming through the painted facade above them. Bay 4, one read. I looked back to the building that was home to the Stour Fleet Academy, “Live long and prosper”, I said to it.
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