There is a very direct route to reach the point I’d marked for initial investigation, unfortunately the cover at that point was pretty messed up and unable to be closed from beneath. I wasn’t happy to leave things open and unattended topside, still being a stickler for maintaining some pretence of credibility, and so we took a more leisurely route in. Jumping into the Fleet Sewer some quarter of a mile away a convoluted trek up a side pipe eventually hooks up with the Ludgate Hill Sewer which, heading north, leads to the point beneath our knackered cover. I’ll have to go back to the Ludgate Hill Sewer as I didn’t get any pictures, it’s really quite unique. It’s not large, but has a real hodgepodge of shapes over a very short length; I’m not entirely sure why this as it’s circumstance isn’t such that it would have been slowly covered over a long period, in fact it was built fairly swiftly following the 1666 fire. It might be that the post fire re-build was more of a refurb than replacement and retained sections of older conduit, whatever the case it’s worth a return visit. It’s also note worthy as one of the nastiest smelling sewers we’ve ever been in. The usual H2S stink barely flares a nostril these days but this was so much worse, a real sweaty unwashed masses type of aroma, think limburger cheese matured in the collective armpit of a college rugby team.

At the top of the hill we reached a junction that resides a front the west doorway of St. Paul’s Cathedral. Two 4ft pipes head left and right, each mirroring the other and encircling the cathedral, while a 3ft pipe continues on ahead directly beneath the most celebrated of Wren’s local works. We head right, following the line of St. Paul’s Church Yard. This short section of sewer set a new president for rodent populations, I’ve never seen quite so many rats springing from wall to wall, screeching and scrambling to escape our approach. I counted twenty four of the blighters caught up in a frantic sub city stampede, though many had darted from sight before I’d thought to attempt a tally. Mid count I had the timely fortune of avoiding a steaming mass of projectile spaghetti that rocketed from a knee high side pipe onto the opposite wall, then slinked down into a heap amongst the slow moving clogged accumulation of food matter and blackwater. There was an unusually large volume of accumulated food waste, which likely explains the rats. The topside walk back later in the evening revealed the entire street section above here to be a continuous row of restaurants and eateries. The steaming pasta cascade was swiftly followed by a turd so large you could have whittled it out and rowed the Thames in it. There was a time when such a sequence of events might have triggered a self analysis of my chosen recreational activity, I can’t remember when last that happened. As we reached our problematic cover, via a laddered drop down some twenty feet from the smaller sewer, we finally had some space and I took the opportunity to sort out the camera.

Pic. 1

The ladder in the back of pic.1 leads up to the dodgy cover, but isn’t the same ladder descending from the smaller sewer, which is out of shot on the right of the pic. The pic is taken from an adjoining east – west running sewer that once ran beneath the eastern continuation of Carter Lane, formerly Little Carter Lane (no longer a roadway). I love this junction, it’s a pleasing mix of forms, space and installed elements; it really felt like a network you could get lost in, much less uniform and precise than it’s Victorian neighbours. This was the upstream start point of the Paul’s Wharf Sewer proper and dates to c.1690/1700. From here we headed downstream ducking in and out of side pipes in the hope of turning up some suspected oddities.

Pic.2 – Looking up the steps of pic.1

By the time we were a little way downstream we had ruled out the most promising of our leads. An older section of significantly larger sewer, accessed via a side pipe, had been replaced within the last 30 years and was now a mediocre stoopy rcp Boo! That said, investigating the side pipes alone was a lot of fun. Pic.3 below is a Victorian era sewer routed to connect with Paul’s Wharf.

Pic.3

Continuing further downstream, what was once a ramped incline had been retro-fitted with steps and a handrail, pic.4 below. I couldn’t really say when this work was done, it’s all too easy to just say Victorian, chances are it was earlier. I love the shape of the main tunnel at this point, it has much more of a river culvert feel to it than a London sewer.

Pic.4

By the time we reached the point where the sewer had been modified (definitely Victorian era works) to pass beneath the District & Circle line we had ruled out all our avenues of investigation and so were content to enjoy the unexpectedly spacious Paul’s Wharf Sewer. The parallel twin pipes that take the sewer beneath the lines can be seen in the background of pic.5 below. Immediately downstream of the twin tunnels the main line changes shape and period, a 10ft egg shaped pipe of c.1834 yellow brick continues on for approx 35yds.

Pic.5 – Looking upstream to the Victorian mods that pass beneath the District & Circle line

The sewer’s official name is derived from the original outfall at St. Paul’s Wharf. Today the sewer terminates about 120 yards short of the Thames. All its content is dropped down into the Low Level #1 interceptor via the portal that can be seen right foreground in pic.7 below. The final 20 yds is now a 4ft rcp that runs to a welded steel plate (not a flap or outfall) with no continuation. This severing of the outfall was likely undertaken when the Blackfriars underpass was constructed in the mid 1960s.

Pic.6

With the outfall sealed and a rather limited capacity pipe to channel flow to the interceptor it’s apparent that this whole stretch has doubled as a storage tunnel, whether intentional or not. In pic.7 sanitary debris can be seen on the upper guard rail which is well above my head height, you can also see the level gauge in the back of the shot which rather implies that there’s need to be aware of what’s going on down here!

Pic.7

Not quite the evening we’d planned it to be, but a thoroughly enjoyable outing non the less.

Ten years on seems like a considerable enough passage of time to not rile those who raided their coffers to purchase a physical copy. As such I’ve saved both issues out as pdfs and made them available for download via the linked cover images below. Enjoy.

After years of dispute and deliberation Joseph Bazalgette (Chief Engineer of the Metropolitan Board of Works) was given a little short of carte blanche to reform London’s piecemeal drainage system, the clincher being the much documented ‘Great Stink‘ of 1858. Bazalgtte’s intercepting sewers constituted the lion’s share of the new main drainage works, with further improvements following their completion. On the north side of the Thames three west – east running sewers would receive content from London’s ancient valley lines, carrying the ill-scented flow out of the City to be discharged to the sea on the river’s ebb tide. The middle sewer of the three original interceptors runs for nine and a half miles, its dimensions for the first mile of this are a modest 4′ 6″ x 3′ and it’s along this stretch that the tale of our junction begins.

Pic. 1 – Ok. Somebody had better start explaining and fast!

Constructed c.1861 the first three quarters of a mile of the Middle Level Sewer No.1(MLS1) were run across farmland, though this was land being hastily encroached upon as middle-class suburbia steadily claimed ground. At the three quarter mile marker, where the tunnel first hit the streets, is where our junction begins. Beneath affluent avenues, lined with stucco fronted town houses, three distinct phases of work have formed a subterranean crossroads of intersecting arcs and impossible angles.

Fig. 1 – Phase one: Middle level sewer no.1 at Noting Hill, measuring 4′ 6″ x 3′ for the first mile of its course

Over the next forty years or so the city continued to grow and the area through which the first section of the MLS1 passed had become heavily urbanised, somewhat beyond forecasts. The increase in local sewer connections and paved surfaces had resulted in unacceptable instances of flooding during sustained or heavy rainfall. In 1904 the London County Council’s solution, under Chief Engineer Maurice Fitzmaurice, was the construction of a one and a quarter mile storm relief sewer, the North Kensington Relief(NKR). The new relief sewer would be the same dimensions for its entire length, a 5′ circular pipe, with a blue brick invert. At its upstream end overflow from the MLS1 would enter the relief via a small weir and tumbling bay. The overflow was conveyed south east to join the significantly larger Counters Creek Sewer at Holland Park Av.

Fig. 2 – Phase Two: The addition of Maurice Fitzmaurice’s North Kensington Relief Sewer.

Pic. 2 – The overflow point, from Middle Level to North Kensington Relief.

Pic. 3 – Looking roughly north up the NWSRS, with the NKR on the right.

Pic.2 above looks up the York stone steps of the tumbling bay, at the top of which the MLS1 is contained by a low dam board weir. The final phase of works in 1924 propelled what was an interesting drain junction to another level, it also propelled a whole host of filth beneath the streets of Notting Hill and Kensington. Three quarters of a mile north east of our junction, in Maida Vale, residents were more than a little perturbed by the frequent re-surfacing of an old Thames tributary, one of London’s infamous buried rivers. The river Westbourne, hereabouts channelled underground forming a major trunk sewer, was suffering similarly to the MLS1 twenty years previous. Massive urban development was threatening to rupture this main artery and send a pulsing river of feculence into homes and businesses. The London County Council’s solution? A three mile sub-city, brick beastie of a storm relief sewer, the North Western Storm Relief Sewer(NWSRS).

The course of NWSRS cuts directly across the NKR at three points, the first and most notable of these being right alongside the overflow point from the MLS1, as can be seen in Fig.3 below. This first junction of the two reliefs is of greater interest than the other two simply because of its associated features that are lacking elsewhere. The junction incorporates an access point, a distinct stepped increase in tunnel dimension, a tumbling bay that drops the NWSRS to a greater depth and oak dam boards on the intersected NKR. The most obvious difference between the NWSRS and the NKR is it’s size, varying between 7′ 6″ at its commencement to 9′ 6″ at its outfall. Its role was in fact to fulfil the function of the NKR as well as its primary relief function, leaving the older relief tunnel to act as an additional buffer during exceptional circumstances.

Fig. 3 – Phase Three: The NWSRS dissects the Kensington Relief Sewer.

Immediately downstream of this crossroads the NWSRS drops down a tumbling bay of twenty steps as it continues its journey south to its submerged outfall at the Thames. Fig.4 & 5 below show the locations of the photographs and hopefully help to clarify the relation between phases of work.

Fig. 4 – Photo markers and crossing point detail.

Fig. 5 – Photo markers and section E – E.

Below are the remaining images associated with the markers on Fig.4 & 5 which further illustrate the relationship between the various phases of work.

Pic. 4 – Oak dam boards and arcs.

Pic. 5 – Looking north at the crossing.

Pic. 6 – A parting shot. Please excuse the angle, I need a wider lens.

“What must my job be?!”

“I hope I get paid a lot for doing that!”

“Where is that anyway?”

Some of the more sensible questions I have often posed that my 13/14 year old self might have asked had I somehow had the opportunity to view third person video snippets (sans sound) of my current draining excursions, some twenty years prior. The scenes I imagine would prompt the most questions tend to be instances of entering/exiting manholes, particularly in obscure surrounds that my teenage counterpart wouldn’t be familiar with. I found myself running through these same imaginings just recently.

With both feet placed firmly on the same ladder rung, knees bent and my back jammed against the opposite wall, I was in position under a corroded manhole cover which looked as if it hadn’t moved for decades. Straightening up a little, a trial push delivered some movement and I shouted down to confirm that this would be our exit. I knew the approximate location at which we’d be re-joining London’s aboveground populous and we were credibly attired so there was no significant concern. A concerted effort to open the cover dislodged a cascade of ferrous metal pieces, many of which found their way down the back of my shirt and on to my clammy back, where they took up residence. Passing the point at which the cover needed any further assistance it dropped backwards on its hinges and I proceeded to climb the last few rungs of the ladder.

Hopping out of the shaft and on to the grass in a bustling public park, we were surrounded by picnicking families and sunbathing couples, while a whole host of sports and games went on about us; it’s usual to expect a few heads to turn when a filthy, sweaty workman unexpectedly appears from a manhole cover that nobody had even noticed previously. While I stood atop the open cover Metawaffle swiftly ascended the ladder into the glorious early evening sun. The presence of two filthy, sweaty workmen had now increased the head count of curious onlookers. A deft foot to the cover saw it slam shut, momentarily turning a further few heads, and we walked casually into the multitudes, quietly discussing our past few hours of underground adventuring.

For those who still looked on, as we disappeared from sight, our unexpected exit most likely raised questions comparable to those of my future gazing teen self, as we all viewed the semblance of a life to which we immediately attributed our own context.

When a fellow underground aficionado first ventured into a London sewer his planned journey began in St. John’s Wood, in an unremarkable section of the King’s Scholars’ Pond Sewer (K.S.P.S.). Unremarkable as it was the 5.5ft x 3.5ft egg shaped sewer bombarded John with curious new sights, sounds and smells. He later remarked “There is a fatal fascination about sewers, and whenever an entrance is opened, a crowd is sure to gather . .” (Hollingshead, John. Underground London. 1862).

Pic. 1 – The junction as seen in 2010, looking downstream to the inspection gallery.

The same section of tunnel where John Hollingshead began his virgin sewer expedition in 1860 has seen considerable alteration over the past 150 years; in 2010 there’s certainly more to remark upon, and more so to bombard the senses. This short text goes some way to unravelling a complex and compact sewer junction. The K.S.P.S. runs for approx. five miles in a south-easterly direction from Hampstead to the Thames. Located within the most northerly portion of this five mile run, the section we’re looking at did not receive any attention during the groundbreaking overhaul of London’s Main Drainage, under Joseph Bazalgette, Chief Engineer of the Metropolitan Board of Works. For an eighty five year period, from it’s construction c.1825 (Fig.1) to the construction of the London County Council’s Middle Level Sewer No.2 (Fig.2) in 1910, it remained unaltered. The timing of Hollingshead’s visit did in fact mean he travelled the entire route of the K.S.P.S. prior to any of Bazalgette’s major alteration works.

Fig. 1 – The original sewer tunnel pre alterations.

Fig. 2 – 1910 interceptor works creating the first phase of the junction.

The connection to the MID LVL SWR No.2 was the first stage of works forming the basis of the junction as it appears today. This first junction was a relatively simple set up where dam boards were installed in the K.S.P.S. tunnel immediately downstream of a new connection which diverted the sewage flow into a circular brick pipe measuring 5.6ft in diameter. The diversion pipe dropped the flow down a series of steps (Tumbling bay) to the intercepting sewer passing beneath the K.S.P.S., as seen in Fig.2.

Fig. 3 – 1940s Penstock works.

Fig. 4 – 1980s works, being the last to date.

A further thirty years passed with no works in the immediate vicinity of the junction, then in 1940 a penstock chamber was built on the downstream side of the dam boards. This allowed the K.S.P.S. tunnel to be entirely sealed off no matter what the volume of flow, diverting all its content into the intercepting sewer. The new penstock could be operated from street level via a manual gear mechanism. Also at this time a new local sewer was connected to the K.S.P.S. at the same juncture, see Fig.3 above.

Fig. 5 – Plan detail of the junction as it exists today, with markers for photo positions.

The final phase of works that created the junction as it exists today seems to have removed almost as much as it added, and oddly appears to have been something of a step backwards in some ways. c.1980 an inspection gallery, at about 10ft above the junction invert, was installed. The extension upwards, to the new gallery, of the original dam board chase(s) allowed boards to be manually inserted from above to completely seal off either the K.S.P.S. or the diverting pipe to the MID LVL SWR No.2 (see Fig.5 above). The 1940s penstock was then removed in favour of this seemingly more arduous option.

Pic. 2 – Looking upstream. Note dam board chase in foreground.

With its various phases of work this junction chamber is certainly an interesting place to photograph and was an unexpected and pleasant surprise on our first journey through this section of tunnel. No doubt Mr. Hollingshead was with us in spirit.

This was only the second occasion that myself and st00p had entered one of London’s combined trunk sewers, and it was the first occasion for our Australian compadre Siologen. So there we were, stood within the confines of London’s most notorious sewer, the Fleet, all feeling decidedly underwhelmed. Sure it was a huge brick tunnel and we’d lucked out to hit the main pipe just after an intercepting weir (which meant very little flow, other than that spewing from our access route) but this couldn’t be the ‘River’ Fleet? This place bore absolutely no likeness to the glorious sparkling waterway of our imaginings. Alas, we’d been more than a little naive. By now the whole ordeal had been comparable in disappointment to my chagrin at Kellogg’s decision to withdraw Cinnamon Pop Tarts from the UK breakfast market. Any how, even in our disgruntled states we weren’t so deflated as to pass up the chance to explore our immediate surrounds. A quick flash of the torches downstream revealed infinite tunnel, while immediately upstream was the afore mentioned intercepting weir.

Taking a look at the weir, there was no doubt that venturing upstream of this point was not an option. The flow beyond it was ferocious; a swirling, bubbling, choppy poop soup of unknown depth and unfathomable raging force. Battling our collective misery I had mustered the enthusiasm to take my camera from its bag when st00p got my attention by way of a sharp dig in the ribs. I swiftly pulled my gaze from the bag and on to him, to see his squinting face recoil at the blinding light from my headtorch. Diverting the torch light I looked back to see st00p had already moved away from me and was furiously gesturing upstream, but saying nothing at all. “Wh . . .?“, I had barely spoken half a word when I too was struck silent at the sight that had prompted st00p’s bruise inducing intercostal poke. Way off up the tunnel, being washed by the tumultuous waters, was an almost ninety degree bend, now visible where before there had been nothing but darkness. The light from what appeared to be several super luminous sources was bouncing off the walls, almost dissipating the heavy vaporous air as the beams danced erratically side to side, occasionally catching the crests of the unforgiving flow.

Someone was coming our way! Whoever it was hadn’t yet rounded the corner, we glanced at each other and scrambled for the broadband ducting, clumsily we dragged ourselves back up into the side pipe with ten times the haste by which we’d descended. Turning off our lights we crouched, with hearts thumping, and waited for whoever it was to make the corner. I took a sneaky glance back up the main tunnel. The glare of the approaching lights made it impossible to see anything beyond them, but they were round the corner and heading our way! We’d never encountered sewer workers before, I couldn’t imagine that it could have been anyone else. For one thing how the hell were they traversing the flow beyond the weir, other than with the aid of specialised equipment? Perhaps some sort of mechanised transport? All sorts of fanciful notions ran through my head. And those lights, super bright white (light), cutting endless beams through the darkness, superior to anything we were packing. Mere seconds had passed as my thoughts raced when came a sharp hissing whisper in my ear, as urgent as a whisper can be, the unmistakable antipodean tones of Siologen, “JD! JD! Who is it? What did you see?“.

“I couldn’t see anything past the lights“, I whispered back into the darkness, “but we need to get out of sight. They’re still coming this way.” Feeling the walls, we headed back thirty yards or so to a bend, I’ve never been quite so happy that I remembered the latex gloves! A quick flash of the torch confirmed that we weren’t in the line of fire of a projectile sewer and we settled in to silently wait for the workers to pass. Our new location was out of view of the main tunnel but offered the option of a glance around the bend should we need it. We were confident that our voices couldn’t be heard over the noise of the outfalling branch sewer, so while I watched the dimly glistening brickwork get ever brighter, st00p and Siologen thrashed out the pros and cons of various plans of action. For a moment there was calm, as if within the course of only fifty seconds a routine had been established, distracting us from our circumstances. However, as quickly as the calm had settled it was broken by the sound of muffled voices. Our hearts almost stopped and we fell silent, realising that if we could hear them then perhaps they had heard us? Their conversation was indistinguishable above the crashing water, but at times it almost sounded like congratulatory whooping and cheering. Whatever the case, these were definitely the voices of a number of men, and men who seemed very well at ease with their surroundings.

“Must be Thames Water.” I whispered, hoping someone’s ear was in the vicinity. For as much as I dared not give us away, I had to take a look. Now, there’s not really an effective method of peering out from a corner. Sure you can do it very slowly to avoid drawing attention with any sudden movement, but essentially you’re sticking your head out there to be seen. With this in mind I thought ‘what the hey’ and popped my head out, and it was at this point that Pascal decided to call in our previous good fortune at having avoided faces full of bowl fresh feculence. I find it best suits the scene that followed to recollect it in super slow motion, accompanied by Bach’s Air on a G string. My head emerges from the bend just as one of the workers turned in perfect synchronicity and shone his light up the branch sewer and on to my pasty white face which, much like st00p’s only minutes earlier, recoiled with eyes squinting from temporary blindness. Of course the entire incident played out within a fraction of a second and no sooner had my head been stuck out there like a lighthouse lamp than I was back out of sight, crouched with the other two. The damage was done though, probability had its pound of flesh; I absolutely must have been seen! We each held our breath, frozen to the spot, waiting for the sound of splashing footsteps heading our way, not wanting to start our frantic stooping race to the exit until there was no doubt that we had been detected.

We waited, chests tightening for fear that our combined exhalation would be sufficient a sound to draw attention to us, but the footsteps never came. Not only that, but the little ambient light there had been from the workers torches had all but vanished, and we could barely hear the mumbles of their boisterous conversation. They were leaving!? Stupefied we all looked out from our hiding spot, they really were leaving! This was ridiculous, I felt certain that I’d been seen, yet there they were leaving. We shuffled gingerly back to the main tunnel and spied out, downstream. Previously their lights had hindered me from getting any sight of them, but now the opposite was the case as we watched three silhouetted workers heading off, looking decidedly Close Encounters-esq.

Common sense would have had us count ourselves more than fortunate at this juncture and propose that we depart the scene, bemused, but somehow undiscovered. Common sense however seemed to be about as present as the sparkling waters of the buried river Fleet and thus we decided to wait it out, to see the workers out of sight. We didn’t have to wait long. Still in view, they had halted mid tunnel and we watched as one by one they stepped out of sight, not at all as we’d expected. We’d been holding our tongues for nigh on ten minutes now and this further unforeseen event broke the self imposed hush. “Where’d they go?” Siologen asked in a low voice, “They must have gone up a side tunnel, or a manhole.” replied st00p. We knew though that there were no manholes giving access into this section of tunnel, we’d checked thoroughly, so they must have set off up a side tunnel. If the days events had been bordering on ridiculous they rapidly descended in to lunacy as st00p, impetuous as he is, decided he had to see where they had headed.

Before either of us could argue against the idea, st00p was in the main tunnel, torch on, heading downstream. One thing’s for sure, playing C-3PO to st00p’s R2 is never dull; we weren’t about to let him run in to workers alone and for all our efforts to remain undetected we clambered down and joined him, marching down the tunnel, expecting the worst. I recalled, as we walked, the fact that these workers had somehow traversed the impassable water beyond the weir. They hadn’t appeared to have any equipment beyond that which was about their person, so how had they managed such a task? I am Jack’s utter sense of bewilderment! We walked on.

Walking along, your mind tends to wander. I often get a sense of being out of time; that which governs life aboveground is rendered obsolete in an environment where it is neither night nor day. It’s not so much that you lose track of time as it is a sensation of losing it entirely; consequently as we neared upon the side pipe, much sooner than anticipated, we weren’t at all surprised. Closer inspection of the workers’ exit point revealed that it wasn’t a side pipe at all, rather an access passageway. We’d been so certain that there wasn’t any manhole access into this stretch of tunnel, we’d checked aboveground, how could we have missed that? Yet another incident that highlighted their knowledge over ours.

The passageway’s junction with the main tunnel formed an arc from crown to invert. Edged with blue bricks, it was washed with a soft sulfurous glow, casting an oblong window of similarly orangey light on to the opposite tunnel wall. We were again close enough to hear the mumbles of conversation, closer even as we could almost pick out words now. Having turned out or lights we paused, a little apprehensive; bathed in the tangerine glow we each looked to the other, acknowledging the fact that we were no doubt about to get busted. In all but the same steps as we had watched taken minutes earlier, we too stepped into the passageway, just in time to see the last of the workers deftly climbing the ten foot ladder up to an open manhole. A wide grin crept across my face, the guy was on the ladder with his back to us, street light was flooding down, as he climbed up to join his colleagues, completely unaware of our presence behind him. Voyeurism is not on my list of favoured pastimes, but it was an oddly satisfying encounter.

The cold night air was being drawn into the passageway via the open manhole and we stood goose bumped and galvanised just feet from discovery. The cover also allowed the noise of life aboveground to reach our ears, mostly traffic, which amalgamated with the sounds of crashing water and made it more difficult still to hear any conversation. Considering the trip we’d had, we wagered there was really no way on, or under, earth that Lady Luck was about to see us get apprehended and so we took a few steps closer to the manhole in the hope of a little audible clarity. For the first time we were now close enough to properly hear, but, as if subconsciously aware of our eavesdropping, noone was talking. BANG! From nowhere a hefty looking industrial wader kicked the open cover, as a pair of disposable gloves were thrown back down the shaft. We took care to stay from view, and observed as each kick to the unyielding cover only inched it closed. Every blow unleashed a great creaking yelp, as if kicking a cowering dog, as metal grated on metal. And with every blow our permatan glow was diminished a little more. There we were, stood within the confines of London’s most notorious sewer, the Fleet, grinning inanely, all feeling decidedly overwhelmed. The last vestiges of street light were about to be banished from the passageway when there came a shout from above, a voice with an unmistakable antipodean tone “JD!! You shoulda made ‘im close the farkin’ cover, he never closes ’em, lazy barrstard.”

PHWUMP!!

Darkness.

Pic. 1 – Megatron, River sheaf, Sheffield.

Pic. 2 – Flushed Away, Overflow chamber, Macclesfield.

While I haven’t been back as often as I would have liked, I have made several pilgrimages to the culverts of my youth. This post isn’t an exposé of what the north has to offer; it’s merely a selection of images from some of those various trips. I’m keen to not make a habit of publishing great loads of images with little or no context, but I’m not entirely opposed to populating the odd post or two with a bunch of silhouette peppered pictures when I haven’t the time or inclination to spend slaving over a keyboard. These images span a period of six years or so, from 2004 – present, and represent a small portion of the great bounty of the north.

Pic. 3 – Crystal Phallus, Hockley Brook, Birmingham.

Pic. 4 – Gorton Falls, Gorton Brook, Manchester.

Pic. 5 – The Processor, Moston Brook, Manchester.

Pic. 6 – Bunker Drain, Warrington.

Pic. 7 – Pay Dirt, Manchester.

Pic. 8 – Kinder Surprise, Ford Green Brook, Stoke.

Pic. 9 – STD, Plumpton Clough Brook, Chadderton.

Pic. 10 – Redbarn, Wince Brook, Chadderton.

Pic. 11 – Lock Stock, Relief Sewer, Manchester.

Pic. 12 – Sirenity, Bilston Brook, Wolverhampton.

Pic. 13 – The Works, River Irk, Manchester.

Urbanunderworld.co.uk was among the first, if not the first, UK website with a majority proportion of its content dedicated to drain exploration. Having been online since 2002 under the urbanunderworld domain, and for a year or so previous to that on free hosting, the site had not been much updated since the end of 2006 and went offline at the end of 2008. Over the lifetime of the domain the exploring duo of Drainrat & Oggy furnished urbanunderworld with its wondrous content, and the importance of their contribution to an activity we enjoy so much should not to be forgotten! Not least for the fact that they continue to explore underground, but do so in a more private manner.

Pic. 1 – urbanunderworld.co.uk version 1.0.

Pic. 2 – urbanunderworld.co.uk version 2.0.

Drainrat & Oggy would agree that their greatest legacy is the discovery, exploration and documentation of the gargantuan storm drain which they dubbed ‘Bunker’. A mighty concrete beast, bristling with features and of spectacular scale, Bunker set the standard for modern UK storm drainage and has yet to be surpassed. Noted among the worlds finest drains by the much travelled Siologen, it is something of a rite of passage for UK drainers. In recent years Bunker’s increased internet exposure has also meant it has become popular outside of draining circles, with explorers of the more shotgun and bed-post persuasion. As well as Bunker the duo also uncovered and rightfully named other major drains across the country, drains which maintain their position as staple constituents on the list of must see UK sites. First in to Birmingham they brought us Moonwalker, Baptizer and Mistaken Identity. Breaking virgin ground again in Leeds, they uncovered Masticator and cyclops, and in Bristol their persistence paid off when they finally cracked the mighty Dreadnought. Closer to home in Manchester Oggy temporarily overcame his sewerphobia venturing into SSSI.

Drainrat was the driving force behind urbanunderworld, being from an engineering background, draining mixed his passion for underground spaces and large scale engineering with the edge of excitement and adventure that he also pursued in other activities outside of draining. He was also responsible for publishing their stories and findings online. The urbanunderworld website had two incarnations during its lifetime. In 2003 a Google search for ‘UK drain exploring’ returned few relevant results, atop the list, version1.0 of urbanunderworld provided burgeoning drain explorers with the confirmation that they were not alone in their peculiar pursuit. At that time the adult phase of my drain exploring life had seen few drains of great merit and I recall taking the photographic tour through Bunker, which featured on urbanunderworld, with eyes transfixed and mouth agape. Inspired by the website I set to work creating an interweb home from where to share our own drain adventures. Version 2.0 of urbanunderworld was a cosmetic make-over, while the ever expanding content remained as clear and accessible as always.

The other half of the urbanunderworld duo, Oggy, was a quietly confident and unassuming explorer who knew exactly what he did and did not like! What he did not like was sewage, sewers and anything pertaining to poop, he was always vehement in his aversion to such things. Always rocking the brightest of blue coats Oggy was the Dr.Watson to Drainrat’s Sherlock Holmes, a thoroughly pleasant guy and a great pleasure to explore with.

Pic. 3 – Drainrat (right) & Oggy (left) – Urban Underworld.

The departure of such a significant website deserves a tip of the hat in recognition for its role in forming UK drain exploration as we know it. Sure, drain exploration in the UK did not start with urbanunderworld, and it will not end with it, but it certainly would have been quite different without it. When I realised that the site was offline several thoughts came to mind, beyond the initial that sucks, firstly a eulogy was clearly required. I’d like to have been able to archive the site in some form, as Simon Cornwell has done with one of the earliest UK UE websites here. Unfortunately I have neither the time or resources and so for as long as some information is available we’ll have to make do with those pages indexed on the web archive here. For now the domain is being re-directed to this tribute page, so at least those seeking drains or following links to urbanunderworld will reach some relevant content. Should Drainrat decide one day that he’d like to take up the urbanunderworld mantle once more, then I’ll most gladly pass control of the domain back to where it rightly should be. Drainrat & Oggy, we salute you!

– noun
• the exploration of underground man-made drainage systems.

This text is not a three step guide to better draining. It is not a fast track to drain exploring knowledge, whilst by-passing drain exploring experience. It is most certainly not a text that will equip you to explore drains. So. Now we’ve firmly established what this is not, what exactly is it? What it is, is some common sense information, served with some hard facts in order to properly portray the very real dangers of exploring drains. If you’re even slightly contemplating exploring drains and you also value your life then please take the time to thoroughly read Predator’s Approach Doc. The .doc is written with Australian drains in mind, though much of the info is transferable, and although it is quite some years old now it is still the most comprehensive resource of it’s kind available online.

When it comes to drain exploring there’s one factor that is frequently overlooked, 99% of drains are active/operational environments. In a system that is largely automated and still functioning to fulfil its purpose, the presence of unauthorised visitors is not something that is equated into operational procedures. In short there are many potentially life threatening dangers in drains that are entirely beyond the control of any clandestine tourist and entirely outside an explorers ability to reasonably calculate for, consequently complacency is never an option!

In way of a little education to highlight some of the risks involved let’s very briefly break UK draining down into its rudimentary groupings. There are roughly three degrees of separation when it comes to explorable drains:

1. The Culvert / Underground Watercourse.

Where a formerly aboveground watercourse has been channelled underground through a conduit, most often in order to make use of the newly created land above. Quite often surface water drainage from the newly created land will be connected to the culvert, giving it a secondary function of draining surface water run-off, but primarily it exists to convey the watercourse underground. By its nature a culvert will feature an infall (upstream) and outfall (downstream) structure, depending upon its length it may also feature manhole access shafts along its underground course. It is not uncommon for Combined Sewers(see below) in close proximity to a culvert to have an overflow within the culvert, conveniently out of the gaze of the general public. To avoid the sewer becoming surcharged these Combined Sewer Overflows(CSO) are situated to allow an amount of flow from the sewer to discharge into the culverted watercourse during times of excessive rainfall. CSOs usually discharge via a screened overflow to prevent solid waste from entering the natural watercourse. Culverts are often mistakenly considered to be at the more recreational end of the draining spectrum. The risks in culverts are as plentiful as in any other underground drainage system and they should be approached with the exact same caution.

Pic. 1 – Baptiser culvert, Hockley Brook, Birmingham.

2. The Storm Drain / Storm Storage Tank / Storm Storage Tunnel.

Of course the name proclaims the function of these three common methods used to deal with sudden increases in water volumes due to excessive rainfall. The name should also sound alarm bells to anyone considering exploring such a facility, these places exists solely to channel or store huge volumes of water! These three variations on storm flow management are not exclusive of one another. The term ‘storm flow’ for the purpose of this text covers overflow from combined sewer systems and the surface water run-off of separate systems.

= Storm Drains =

Storm drains come in two basic flavours and both exist solely to deal with excessive flow during high rainfall conditions, thus during dry-weather conditions they will have little to no content.

Flavour number one is the Storm Relief Sewer, aka Storm Reliefs and Storm Sewers. In conjunction with a Combined Sewer System(see below) the Storm Relief Sewer provides extra capacity during storm conditions. A Storm Relief Sewer deals with its content by one, or all three, of the following: conveying the flow to a storage tank/tunnel(see below) from where it will be later pumped back into the system; channelling its flow back into the combined system at a point where it has a greater capacity; having an overflow outfall (CSO) on a local watercourse. It’s not uncommon for a Storm Relief Sewer to employ all three methods in that order of precedence.

Flavour number two is the Storm Water Drain, sometimes confusingly referred to as just Storm Drains and Storm Sewers, these are essentially a system of underground pipes whose collective function is to take only storm water run-off enabling it to be discharged directly into local watercourses with no adverse effect. Storm Relief Sewers and Storm Water Drains are usually contained systems, only being accessible via manholes or other similar access portals. Of course Storm Water Drains may feature an outfall structure but most are secured to restrict access for safety reasons, effectively creating a contained system. With a set up of this nature there can be an increased risk of air quality issues due to reduced airflow/ventilation. This can be further compounded in some Storm Drains by the presence of decaying organic matter in standing water deposited during the last storm event. There is a school of thought that suggests a contained system presents an increased risk of drowning in the event of a storm surge event, being as there is no outfall to we washed to. In reality the increased risk is minimal as the chances of being washed any distance in an open system without sustaining major injury or loosing your life before you reach the outfall is slim.

Pic. 2 – Bunker storm drain, Warrington.

= Storm Storage Tanks =

Storm storage tanks are most often used on a Combined Sewer System(see below) to provide increased capacity during higher than average rainfall conditions, to prevent sewage overflows into local watercourses, which would normally be a last resort. They come in all manner of shapes, sizes and configurations both vertical and horizontal. They may exist along the line of a Storm Relief Sewer, but could equally be an isolated storage tank or series of tanks joined to the Combined Sewer System via an overflow weir. Once the combined sewer levels have receded post-rainfall the storage tank(s) content is pumped back into the system at a regulated rate.

= Storm Storage Tunnels =

Storm storage tunnels are the natural progression from storage tanks where an even greater storage capacity is required and storage tanks of the equivalent capacity would not be financially viable or would be unachievable. As with storage tanks they may be connected to a Storm Relief Sewer or may be connected directly to the Combined Sewer System via an overflow.

Pic. 3 – C.O.T.S. storm storage tunnel, Brighton.

3. The Combined Sewer.

Considered by many to be a much more inhospitable exploration environment, largely due to the increased risks stemming from the greater levels of bacterial contamination and the presence of decaying organic matter resulting in increased potential for air quality issues. The Combined Sewer System is exactly as its name suggests, a drainage system built to deal with a combined flow comprised of:

Surface Water Run-off: street level rainwater drainage.
Foul Water(Brown/Black Water): waste-water with a high concentration of biological (faecal matter and urine) or chemical contamination, both domestic and industrial.
Grey Water: waste-water with a low concentration of biological or chemical contamination, generated from processes such as washing up and bathing.

Combined Sewers, like Storm Drains, are contained systems that generally do not have an infall or outfall. Small conduits feed from households, businesses and street drains into increasingly larger pipes conveying the flow to a treatment works where the contaminants are removed rendering the resulting liquids and solids suitable for discharge to the environment or re-use.

Pic. 4 – The Fleet Sewer, London.

The risks of drain exploration are many and are often entirely outside of an individuals control. Many people who explore drains do so with the assistance of specialised safety equipment, from Gas Monitors and Emergency Breathing Apparatus to Intrinsically safe lighting. Sticking on a pair of Wellington boots, grabbing a torch and heading into a drain for the first time is a recipe for disaster.

The decision to explore drains lies firmly with each individual and with that decision comes the responsibility for yourself and your actions, you have taken the decision and you are responsible!