Stories from the stores

Last time, I related the sad story of the demise of HMS Trafalgar, who had her nuclear reactor shut down a few weeks ago prior to retirement.

In 1993, Trafalgar was affiliated with the north-west town of Lancaster, just across Morecambe Bay from Barrow-in-Furness where many naval submarines are built. Now the boat has been decommissioned, the affiliation has come to an end, and the tip of Morecambe’s Stone Jetty is to be renamed ‘Trafalgar Point’ in the boat’s honour.

Apparently, council officials had considered naming a plaza, rather than a jetty, but realised that there was already a rather more famous Trafalgar Square. This leads me neatly to some wonderfully atmospheric photos of the London landmark in the collection of the National Media Museum:

Trafalgar Square, c.1890 (NMeM / Science & Society)

London’s Trafalgar Square has been a traffic hot-spot for more than a century…

'Held Up, Trafalgar Square', 1923 (NMeM / Royal Photographic Society / Science & Society)

…although the air quality has certainly improved since the early days.

Hansom cab in Trafalgar Square, c.1898 (NMeM / Royal Photographic Society / Science & Society)

Trafalgar Square is often at the heart of demonstrations, marches and rallies. One event, held in the square in Easter 1966, was captured in another of the NMeM’s photographs: a march by the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament…

CND Easter March, Trafalgar Square, 1966 (NMeM / Tony Ray-Jones / Science & Society)

Fifteen years later, the nuclear-powered, nuclear-armed submarine Trafalgar was launched…

The photographic collections of the National Media Museum (part of the National Museum of Science and Industry) are truly remarkable. You can explore some of their holdings here if you can’t visit in person.

Earlier, I told you about HMS Astute, the Royal Navy’s latest nuclear-powered submarine, due to be handed over by the builders later this year.

She’s the second naval submarine with that name, the first being launched in 1944 as part of the Amphion-class of boats. We’ve this model of HMS Amphion herself on show in our Shipping gallery:

Model of HMS 'Amphion', 1944 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Another boat in the series was HMS Alliance. To experience life on board a submarine, head for the Royal Navy Submarine Museum in Gosport, where Alliance is open to the public. I had an excellent guided tour from a retired submariner on my last visit.

You can also climb on board the Royal Navy’s first ever submarine, ordered 110 years ago. The Holland 1, UK-built to American designs, has been fully restored and well worth a visit.

'Holland'-class submarine, 1901 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Visiting them really brings home how cramped life on board a submarine must be.

Sailors in a British submarine, 1914-18 (NMeM / Daily Herald Archive / Science & Society)

The latest nuclear boats are bigger, though, as they’ve plenty of power. The latest Astute will replace HMS Trafalgar, now retiring after more than a quarter-century of service. Her nuclear reactor produced enough electricity each year to power a town the size of Swindon.

Switching it off has been a real wrench for the crew. One engineer said, ‘it’s like putting your best friend to sleep – the lads have built up this fantastic machine, kept it going … suddenly, you’re ending all that.’

It may have felt sudden, but the boat will be crewed for many months yet – it takes a long time for a nuclear reactor to cool down after 26 years of fission!

While growing up, when I wasn’t busy playing with hammers, I was intrigued by the Moon and I would act out Lego explorations of the Lunarscape. Two interests that that I have in common with engineer James Hall Nasmyth – whose invention of the steam hammer I explored in an earlier post.

Astronomy was one of Nasmyth’s passions and when he retired in 1856, he had more time to devote to scientific investigation.

He used this 20-inch reflecting telescope for looking at the Moon and Sun.

Nasmyth's 20 inch reflecting telescope (Science Museum / Science & Society Picture Library)

I first came across it on a visit to our Blythe House store, and I was drawn to the huge grey iron lump of a telescope amongst a display of slender wood and brass ones. You can really see his history in making industrial machinery.

Nasmyth used his chunky telescope to make detailed drawings and plaster models of his observations, and co-wrote a book with James Carpenter called The Moon, Considered as a Planet, a World, and a Satellite.

It was impossible at the time to photograph all that he could see through his telescope, so instead he photographed his plaster models for use in the book.

Plaster relief model of a portion of the Moon by James Nasmyth (Science Museum / Science & Society Picture Library)

So two of our museum objects – a massive hammer and a lumpy telescope – have led to me on a journey through the story of James Hall Nasmyth. I jumped for joy last year when I saw that that same lumpy telescope was taken from storage and put on display as the entrance piece of our new Cosmos & Culture exhibition.

Nasmyth's telescope at the entrance of Cosmos & Culture (Science Museum)

Imagine the following pub conversation:

‘What are you driving these days?’

‘Actually, I’ve just taken delivery of my Jaguar Jet-Car. Just doing my bit for the environment…’

It’s not as outlandish as it seems. Jet cars have been around for a while and we’ve got the terrific Rover ‘Jet 1′ from 1948 on show at the Science Museum:

Rover 'Jet 1', 1948 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

The problem back then was that the jet engine (or gas turbine) was used to spin a shaft coupled directly to the car’s wheels, and jet engines aren’t too good at the rapid changes of speed demanded in a car.

Sixty years on, the idea’s back – but this time in a wholly new form. An automotive engineer I met at a transport industry event told me about research now being funded by the Technology Strategy Board on a jet-powered car.

The new approach, being led by Jaguar Land Rover, is to develop micro jet engines coupled to electrical generators, charging batteries that drive electric motors.

The concept is the same as hybrid cars such as the Toyota ‘Prius‘, but with a gas turbine rather than a conventional piston engine keeping the batteries charged. The trick, presumably, will be to balance a complex set of variables: power, weight, fuel consumption, size, cost and mechanical simplicity.

There’s also the cultural meaning of the jet engine, a potent symbol since the 1940s of British defiant modernism, an icon of Harold Wilson’s white heat of technology.

Whittle jet engine, 1941 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Let’s be honest. Jets are cool – they excite people – and if we’re to grapple successfully with environmental problems, we must remember people make technology choices for lots of reasons, not all of them rational. Something worth talking about down the pub, perhaps.

I love hammers, or to be more precise, I like hitting things with hammers. Be it nails, walnuts or – at some point in the long-distant past – brothers. So when I saw this giant steam powered hammer looming over me in Making the Modern World I had to learn more.

Nasmyth Steam Hammer (Science Museum / Science and Society Picture Library)

It was invented by James Hall Nasmyth. He was born in 1808, and drawn to mechanics from a young age, making his first steam engine at the age of 17.

He forged a successful career making industrial machinery – at least after an early setback when a piece of his iron work broke through the wooden floor of his workshop and landed in the glass cutters flat below.

The impetus for creating the steam hammer came in 1838 when the Great Western Company was experiencing problems making the Ship SS Great Britain. The company’s engineer, Francis Humphries, wrote to Nasmyth with a challenge: “I find there is not a forge-hammer in England or Scotland powerful enough to forge the paddle-shaft of the engine for the Great Britain! What am I to do?”

Steam Hammer painting by Nasymth

He’d come to the right man. Nasmyth patented the steam hammer in June 1842 and demonstrated it at The Great Exhibition of 1851. Well aware that the machine’s accuracy combined with its extraordinary power was a remarkable selling point, he set an egg resting on a glass under the hammer. When the hammer fell it broke the egg but not the glass. 

He then reset the machine, and the hammer thudded down with a thump that shook the building.

Although Nasmyth patented the hammer, and built his reputation on it, the first one was actually built at Eugene Schneider’s Le Creusot Ironworks in France, before 1842. This may have been the result of Schneider visiting Nasmyth’s works while he was away, and being shown Nasmyth’s sketch for the as-yet-unbuilt hammer. Nasmyth discovered the hammer working when he later paid a return visit to Le Creusot, and had to rush through a patent on his return to England. Always keep your secret drawings under lock and key!

Nasmyth retired in 1856 announcing, “I have now enough of this world’s goods: let younger men have their chance”. He might have been done with worldly goods, but he certainly wasn’t done with science. More on that in my next post…

This BBC News story landed in my inbox the other day, thanks to Peter at our Wiltshire site, near Swindon. It’s about government plans to designate the M4 motorway, between Wales and London via Swindon, as a ‘hydrogen highway’.

'To York' poster showing highwayman Dick Turpin, 1934 (NRM / Pictorial Collection / Science & Society)

Putting aside my mental image of an explosive Dick Turpin, I find it’s all about refuelling. Alternatives to petrol and diesel vehicles are being developed, but each needs a different type of energy source, and the infrastructure isn’t there to provide it.

The ‘hydrogen highway’ plan is to create multi-fuel filling stations along the M4 to jump-start the process.

Ford 'Comuta' electric car, 1967 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Electric vehicles are one key area for development. I’ve spoken about them quite a bit already. Their range is small and they take ages to recharge, but at least there’s already a nationwide electricity grid.

Biofuels like biodiesel are another option, and some can use existing delivery pipelines.

The real problem comes with compressed gases such as hydrogen, used in fuel cell vehicles to generate electricity. It’s distinctly tricky to store, transport and use.

DAF 44 experimental fuel cell car, 1967 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

An even bigger problem is making it in the first place. It’s mostly made from non-renewable natural gas, or by splitting water using electricity. Where does that electricity come from? Burning coal, mostly.

Delivering coal to Didcot power station, 1973 (NRM / Science & Society)

It’s a complex business. I recently finished reading Stewart Brand’s latest book, Whole Earth Discipline, in which he dissects the complicated world of climate and environment. I urge you to read it.

Eighty years ago today, a young American astronomer discovered tiny Pluto. Clyde Tombaugh was searching for a predicted ‘Planet X’ that might explain oddities in the orbits of Neptune and Uranus.

Tombaugh spent months painstakingly photographing the same sections of sky and studying the images with a blink comparator. On 18 Feburary 1930, he noticed that on photographs taken a few nights apart that January, one ’star’ had moved, indicating that it was actually a nearby object moving against the fixed background of distant stars. Further observations confirmed the discovery, which was announced to the world that March.

This Lowell Observatory photograph announcing the discovery shows Pluto marked with arrows. (Image: Science Museum)

Despite the fanfare, Pluto turned out not to be Planet X – Tombaugh had just been looking in the right place at the right time. Subsequent observations revealed that Pluto was too small to match the predictions. Eventually, revised calculations of Netpune and Uranus’s orbits removed the need for Planet X altogether.

Things got worse for Pluto by the 2000s, with astronomers discovering a slew of similarly-sized bodies beyond Neptune. Either our Solar System had a lot more planets than anyone had realised, or it was time to rethink what counts as a planet. On 24 August 2006 the International Astronomical Union voted on a new definition, demoting Pluto to ‘dwarf planet’.

‘Save Pluto’ campaigns were quick to follow. This bumper sticker was one of the first products to go on sale.

For ... (Image: Science Museum)

However, it didn’t take very long for someone to come up with a response:

... and against. (Image: Science Museum)

The IAU’s definition of ‘planet’ remains controversial, so there may be hope for Pluto yet. Because it’s so faraway and faint we still know very little about it, but a spacecraft called New Horizons is due to fly by in 2015. It’s carrying some of Tombaugh’s ashes.

You can see the bumper stickers and the photograph in Cosmos & Culture, while a detector for New Horizons is on display in Exploring Space.

A few months ago, I showed you two ship models on show in our maritime galleries, both called Savannah.

The 1818 version was the first steamship to cross an ocean (even though she did so mostly under sail power)…

Model of Paddle Ship 'Savannah', 1818 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

…while her 1959 namesake was the world’s first nuclear-powered merchant ship.

Model of Nuclear Ship 'Savannah', 1959 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

The first nuclear ship was a naval submarine, USS Nautilus, launched in 1954, with British equivalents following a few years later, such as HMS Resolution.

Model of HMS 'Resolution' nuclear submarine, 1966 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

The latest British nuclear boat, HMS Astute, is due to be handed over to the Royal Navy this year, with a nuclear reactor the size of a domestic dustbin and enough fuel to last for 25 years.

But warships and merchant craft are totally different beasts, not least crewing levels and maintenance infrastructure. The 1950s Savannah traded successfully for a while, but the economic conditions back then weren’t conducive to nuclear ships.

Now, though, the maritime industry is looking for ways to reduce emissions and fuel costs.

Nuclear might be one answer, and Lloyd’s Register (an organisation that sets standards and manages risk in the shipping industry) has recently been carrying out fresh research into nuclear-powered merchant ships.

There are plenty of problems to solve, but technically, it’s a mature industry. Savannah proved the concept of nuclear merchant ships in the 1960s. Only time will tell whether the industry is ready to return to them fifty years on.

It’s an interesting time to be a marine engineer…

It’s a real privilege to get right up close to an object; being able to read an inscription; noticing the wear and tear; discovering an unexpected little detail. A few years ago I examined the Museum’s Beta 1 – a late 1940s rocket engine – and spotted the letters ‘T STOFF INLET’ inlet stamped on one of the valves.

My discovery on the Beta 1 rocket engine © Science Museum / Science & Society

This British engine was a precursor to those used on the Black Arrow space rocket and I knew of its German ancestry but was still delighted to find clear evidence preserved on the artefact (T Stoff was the German term for hydrogen peroxide oxidiser).

Of course, the problem with many museum objects is that they have to be kept behind glass.

The Apollo 10 command module – one of the Museum’s Centenary icons – is rather fortunately not enclosed but has still to be physically isolated from the visitor with a barrier and from air-born dust by Perspex covers over the hatch and docking port.

Apollo 10 command module, 1969 © Science Museum / Science & Society

So for one day only in May of 2009, to commemorate the mission’s 40^th anniversary, we sought permission from the spacecraft’s owner – the Smithsonian Institution’s National Air and Space Museum – to VERY CAREFULLY allow people up close to peer inside the spacecraft.

It took a lot of organising, but it was wonderful to see the reactions of the very young visitors who, with help from mum or dad, enjoyed looking in at the truly space age control consoles of the spacecraft.

Computer keyboard, Apollo 10 © Science Museum / Science & Society

They could just about make out the hurried pencil jottings that the astronauts had made near their computer console. They’d probably been working out some bearings or the timing of a rocket engine burn. As the astronauts say themselves: if you want to be an astronaut you need to work hard at school and do the maths!

Last week, I showed you our 1930s mobile library from Erith. This got me thinking about libraries and the wonders they contain.

Our own library has the most extraordinary collection of literature. If you like anything at all, you’ll find riches beyond compare at the Science Museum Library – and it’s all free to see.

Our Ingenious website is great for finding highlights. For instance, here’s Agostino Ramelli, a sixteenth-century Italian engineer:

Agostino Ramelli, 1588 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Ramelli wrote a highly influential book called (in translation) The various and ingenious machines of Captain Agostino Ramelli, full of incredible machines and fabulous gadgetry.

Faced with a tricky moat? Try the portable moat-bridge…

Floating bridge, 1588 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

High wall on the other side? You may prefer the combined moat-bridge and wall-scaler…

Machine for bridging a moat and scaling walls, 1588 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

But if all this looks too much like hard work, Ramelli had just the device:

Machine for studying several books at once, 1588 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Incapacitated by gout? Surf the book-wheel. All your reading needs met without having to move from your chair. Priceless!

If you want to see Ramelli’s book in the flesh, you can make an appointment to see an original copy at our Swindon library, or there’s a 1970s translation in London (check it hasn’t been borrowed before making a special journey).

And if you want to chat to our librarians and archivists in anything above a whisper, they’ll be exhibiting at the Who Do You Think You Are? show at London’s Olympia, the country’s biggest family history event, from 26 to 28 February. Well worth a visit!