Fairleads | |||||||||
|
|||||||||
Fairleads
About the author:
Tony Fisher is President of the New Zealand Chapter, International Guild of Knot Tyers. He started rigging and working at heights in 1958, and specialises in safe working practices using full suspension harnesses and associated equipment. He spent 19 years 9 months and 3 days building what he claims to be the biggest bridge to one house in an urban setting in the Southern Hemisphere (he kept running out of money!). Every two years he travels to the remote Chatham Islands, 800kms east of New Zealand, to do rigging work on a telemetry operation associated with the recovery of a long-thought-to-be-extinct member of the albatross family (The Chatham Island Taiko, aka the magenta petrel).
Tony has worked on masts, bridges, and cranes throughout his working life, but has earned his keep as a primary school teacher (13 years), science adviser to schools (17 years), union organiser (2 years), editor and gofer for NZ's Royal Society (18months), and as an education officer at NZ's National Observatory (5years). He was awarded a Fellowship of the New Zealand Educational Institute in 1992 for his contribution to curriculum development in science, and for his work as National President of the Schools Advisory Services, where he led the fight for the service's survival during a period of dramatic reorganisation.
For the last five years he has been Chief Rigger on Wellington's floating crane, the "Hikitia", where he has specialised in heavy lift operations and splicing wire ropes. His interests include drumming in music halls, stage shows, and old time dances. He is currently in England where his wife is teaching English. During his time there he plans to work on rigging projects. His first was on the re-rigging of the "Golden Hinde" at St. Mary Overie Dock, Southwark, London. Tony can be reached via email r.fisher@onetel.net.
Introduction
Whilst visiting one of the founders of the International Guild of Knot Tyers, Des Pawson, recently, he encouraged me to put on record perspectives of my experiences as a height working rigger since 1958. I was also encouraged in this by another founder of the Guild, Geoffrey Budworth.
They argued that the men who taught me my craft in the 1950s, had learnt their skills in the 1930s from men who had learnt THEIR skills from men in the 1880s from men who had learnt THEIR skills in the late-19th Century.... and that I was a repository of that knowledge with a duty, as a member of the Guild, to record it. Initially I was daunted by their challenge... but I agree that those people who have taught, guided, and supported me over the last 40 years would want this task completed.
This account, therefore, does not purport to be a treatise of expertise, but a personal record, which in turn could be used as an ideas springboard for others.
The Main Maxims
Above all, show respect for your workmates. Snide comments and putdowns are not part of showing respect; they hide deepfelt insecurities within yourself. In the following text, I shall explain each maxim and give examples. 1. Anything above 10 feet is hazardous, and anything below 10 feet is dangerous. I don't like falling. Even with my Judo training, where learning to fall is a major part of early development in the sport, I still find falling a dis-orienting experience. I detest people who laugh when they observe others falling. It is also painful, no matter how slight the fall. A couple of years ago, I was showing one of the owners of the floating crane I was working on, where I had been painting at the jib-head, 130' above us. I took a step back, the better to admire my handiwork, and tripped over a deck fitting. I broke my wrist. Most of my falls have been at ground or deck level, thankfully rarely whilst working aloft. Indeed, most of my problems aloft have been through cuts and the ever-present bruising. Therefore, I treat all aspects of my rigging work, no matter where, as a dangerous and hazardous experience. 2. It is a job: you're there to work, not to entertain others. I have no respect for the "performing monkeys" who put on an act whilst working at heights. In this regard, I am not decrying performers or actors who are earning their living doing just that. No, my comments are aimed at riggers, builders, or other types whose job is not entertainment, but nevertheless perform to ground-based audiences. At best, they are not focusing on the work they are being paid to do. At worst they could distract others, with fatal consequences. My message to them is simple: You should be totally task-focused whilst working at heights. In this regard, I ignore what is happening below, unless it is a message from those in my team. We have sets of recognised signals to which we respond accordingly. I will detail these below. 3. If you feel confident whilst working at heights, hold on and shout for help. "Bluey" Welch* was my first height-work rigging boss. He was a Leading Hand Rigger in the Wellington Harbour Board in 1958. When he explained this idea to me he said that it's the overconfident ones who fall... and usually take one of their mates with them.
* I never did find out his real name! In those days workers often had more than one job to feed their families, and they often used aliases to save on tax. This mechanism meant that they only paid primary rates of tax. Secondary rates were (and still are) much higher. When I tried to meet him some years later, I couldn't find any record of a "Bluey" Welch! Later I learnt the real lesson in this one: Fear or apprehension whilst working in a dangerous situation is a normal human survival defence mechanism. For 17 years, as well as being a rigger I was also a specialist who, as a science adviser to schools in New Zealand, had as one of my responsibilities the task of inspecting campsites used by school groups. It was my particular job to inspect adventure courses. These places usually had swings, flying foxes, "commando"-type bridges, and other challenging facilities. It was also the nature of my job to run training courses for teachers who would use the courses to assist and challenge their pupils. One of the greatest problems I had was to change teacher attitudes towards the hesitant child. Teachers often pushed children beyond their natural fears and apprehensions in the belief that they had to "challenge" each child. I still do not believe that this is correct. I agree that people should be given challenges, that risk-taking is part of the human condition. But I feel that humans should always measure up the situation that they find themselves in, and if they are to go outside their comfort zone, then it should be with care and consideration. And people supporting them should nurture them gently in their endeavours. Many people, seeing what I do, say that I can't be afraid of heights. Yes, I am. It is only through preparation and training and the use of sensible gear and safety equipment that I do what I do. I am confident that I can do a task before I set out; if I am not, then I don't venture into the danger. Some of the best moments in rigging come whilst you are aloft, having a rest, a drink, and a sweetie. Just look at the beauty around you. 4. Focus no further than your feet I minimise the time that I look below me. Time spent looking down is time spent not working. Worse, it can maximise any fear that you experience, or at least distract you from the task at hand. Climb, do, descend. Obviously you do have to look down when engaged in lifting or lowering operations. 5. Be as comfortable as you can
a. Climbing at heights successfully has much to do with energy conservation. Every two years, I travel to the remote Chatham Islands. They are 800 miles east of New Zealand. I work on a small, triangular section, one foot on a side, 75 foot high, on a radio mast that is part of a telemetry operation in a conservation project. (The Taiko Expedition, the magenta petrel, petrodoma magentae, a sea bird, a small member of the albatross family, which was thought to be extinct, and had not been seen for 100 years, but rediscovered by my colleague, David Crockett). The bush line is about 30 feet high. Once you get above this level, you hit semi-Antarctic conditions. When aloft here, I have a person on the ground who assists me. Their main task is to monitor my work, to keep verbal contact with me, and to bring me down as soon as my speech slurs or any other hypothermic reactions are noticed.* *Europa Chang, from the International Guild of Knot Tyers in the U.K., also asked about height people working in hot climates and the need to beware of sunstroke. I am not experienced in working in hot weather situations. I would appreciate comments in this regard from people who have worked in these conditions. I do think that water retention and the need to take salt tablets are at least two points here. 6. Harnesses are for real riggers. Among my pet hates are some of the macho, "he-men" practices of the past. In those days you often saw:
In those days, doing any of these things was deemed to be proof that you were a "real man". Absolutely stupid! What happened was that workers were getting killed and injured or sustained injuries that have come to haunt them in later years. In commenting on this article, Geoffrey Budworth mentioned, "When Lord Robens, the respected Chair of the National Coal Board in the UK, presided over the commission that led to the Health & Safety at Work. Etc. Act: 1974, he commented that the biggest obstacle in industry to the concept of health and safety was "inertia". By this he meant not simply the acceptance of risks, so much as the perverse sense of male pride in submitting to them, which showed itself in remarks as:
In rigging terms, it used to be: "Only sissies use harnesses." In my early years there was an adage: "One hand for the boss, one hand for yourself". One of the joys of working with modern Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) is that once secured you can devote two hands for the boss! So among the many benefits of using this gear is that the boss gets much, much more productivity. I often found with a bosun's chair that within 20 minutes, my lower legs got pins and needles and I really couldn't work on the chair for too long because of circulation problems. I use a Petzl C-71 (Navaho Complet). It is a full-body harness, which I find excellent for climbing. Another type of harness, closer to the old bosun's chair is the "Bucket"-type harness. It has a full seat and is excellent for tree work and jobs like window cleaning where your main task is abseiling. The Petzl C-90 (Navaho Boss) is one example. Real riggers and height workers use this Personal Protective Equipment at all times, and do so with pride. They do not take unnecessary risks, and they ban short-cut merchants from the job. Short cuts in the rigging sense are short cuts to death or hospital... But for me, one of the greatest needs for harnesses aloft is simply that if you get injured you can be lowered quickly and efficiently, and professional medical help can treat you that much sooner than if we have to waste time setting up a jury rig to lower you. I have never tried to put a harness on someone aloft, but I have tied a firefighter's chair knot to lower someone, and I didn't find it easy. It also took quite a while, and the patient suffered rope bruising afterwards. One matter, which Bob Dean of LGH Rigging Services Ltd., of London mentioned to me recently that I was not aware of, and I would like to share with you now... Should someone have collapsed aloft and have been suspended prior to rescue, there is a chance that their inert body may have suffered circulation problems (When in a harness you are adjusting your body continually). So don't lower them completely to the ground, just let their feet lightly touch. Try not to move their body around in the harness too much. There have been instances where toxins have been trapped in parts of the body by the harness acting a tourniquet; by lowering them completely to the ground, these toxins have been able to circulate, and have poisoned other parts of the body. Let the paramedics or doctors treat the patient before lowering completely. Riggers like lifting things up gently, and lowering them gently. One point raised on this issue, again by Europa Chang, mentions accounts of jousting in mediaeval times. There are tales of men, she says, who had sat in the saddle all day, and were then knocked off their horses by other knights. By the time that they were released from their armour, they had died. Could these stories be related? 7. The concept of "Sight Lines." I have not seen this concept in documents, and I apologise if it is old hat to you. One of the real dangers of working aloft is the problem of being distracted by something happening below you. I call this the problem of "Sight-lines". I like to rope off all the area below where I am working. It is usually an area much larger than directly below me. It allows for the possibility of anything falling, hitting something on the way down and ricocheting. But more important to me is that area where there is a possibility of someone straying into my sight line area. A sightline area is that area below you, where any unusual movement could distract a rigger working above. Unfortunately, few people understand this, and I have had a lot of difficulty in the past with workmates who in all other respects were great at this work. Anything unusual within your sightlines can be hazardous to you. Dare I mention it, but yes, I must: I rarely allow my loved ones to see me at work. A mate of mine nearly killed himself one day when on a scaffolding job. It was in the middle of Wellington city, and his wife saw him aloft and screamed so loud that he lost his balance! Fortunately he grabbed on, as these were the days before scaffolding clips and harnesses. 8. The 2" death This happens in many guises, but for me it is usually when walking along scaffold planks. If the planks are butted together (the ends touching), then there is no problem. But when the ends are lapped (one end on top of another), the 2" death is always present! You walk along, thinking that the next plank is above this one. It isn't, it is below! So, when you step up to the next plank, you actually place your foot 2" further down than you have planned in your brain. This is the two-inch death! It is a horrible feeling. A similar thing happens when the rungs of a ladder are wider spaced than you anticipate, or when the ratlines on ship's shrouds are unevenly spaced... A much more serious situation is when, working from a ladder, you try to reach out that 2" further than you should. Many people have died, or had spinal cords snapped this way. Whatever, when it happens, it is VERY scary and the only way to recover from it is to obey the next maxim... 9. Three limbs secure. Wherever possible, when you are moving any one limb aloft... You keep the other three limbs secure. When I first started climbing on the "Golden Hinde" recently, a number of the ratlines that I was climbing on parted! Had I not followed this rule, I would have fallen. You will understand if I explain that from then on my work schedule changed! I ensured that all the ratlines that I was going to use, were sound after that! 10. "UNDER BELOW!" "WATCH OUT BELOW!" "BELOW!" I'm not sure how universal the cry: "Under Below!" is, but in my experience anyone in New Zealand, experienced in our work, knows exactly what to do when they hear this call! Geoffrey Budworth tells me that in the UK "Watch Out below!" or just "Below!" are more usual. Any of these calls means that something is falling; if you are below, you have to take avoidance action ‹ fast!! Assuming that everyone below is away from (that is, out of), the roped-off safety area, then the action to take is to run away from that area fast, looking up only when you are away from what you deem to be the danger area. If you look up first, then precious safety time has been lost and you compound any danger that you may be in at the time the call from aloft was made. If for some reason, you are in the safety area, then if something was to land on you, it would have done so before you could react. You are best to stand still and hope that your safety helmet does its job! This is one case where avoidance is the best policy. If someone gets within my sight lines, which is always included within the roped-off safety area, I stop the job, climb down and explain to that person the danger of the situation to all concerned. If I feel that the person's attitude is bad, I ensure that they get off the job before work continues. 11. Avoid vocal distractions. Rigging jobs should always be well planned, carried out methodically and slowly, with a minimum of sound from the team. Voice commands should be kept to a minimum, withand signals the norm. Radio technology can be acceptable, assuming good quality equipment, and good radio etiquette. NEVER permit the use of shouted orders. Shouting should be left for danger warnings in extreme circumstances. I detest the type who shouts on the job. It is a form either of showing off to an audience or denigration of another person. In all my jobs I make a plan, a sketch, or a set of procedures on paper. I take my crew through all aspects of the job. I ask for comments; suggestions for improvement, perspectives of worry or doubt. we make modifications as needed, then we go back over the improved plan of action. I then walk through the job with the whole team to ensure that all phases of health & safety are understood. Once the job is underway, I don't allow others to tell us what to do; that causes confusion, wastes time, and heralds Murphy's Law*. If we discover a "shouter" in our midst, I ensure that that person doesn't come back onto a job of mine.
*Geoffrey Budworth comments: - "This is not a racial slur on the Irish people. Murphy was, I believe, a designing engineer, who coined this axiom in relation to design features for component parts. He was overwhelmed by people from other professions who agreed with him. They had all experienced the same truth." During the job, there is only one boss: the person who starts the job, and orders each stage of the operation. But if anyone sees something hazardous, something going wrong, then that person can stop the job. To conclude on this maxim the issue here is safety. That's one idea that I will not compromise. In forty years of doing this type of work, no person has been injured on a job that I have controlled. People rushing around shouting are indicators of a lack of planning and training. They are a hazard to all about them. 12. It's twice as hard, and takes twice as long. Rigging work is hard; tough and dangerous. Its no good being romantic about it. Even the simplest task aloft is twice as hard and takes twice as long to do, than when you are at deck or ground level. Even taking out a knife to cut a thin line takes a lot of thought and effort. You don't want to drop the tool, you don't want to cut yourself or your abseiling rope or the shroud that you are climbing! It's a maxim that I have always been puzzled about. I go aloft to do the simplest of tasks and it takes so long! Sometimes the people on the ground can see the problem, but can't understand why you seem to be doing something else prior to doing the simple job. It is often a simple matter, like not being able to get to the job at a comfortable angle, so you have to re-adjust something or move to another place. Or you get up there and there is a more urgent job to be done, that you didn't see from the ground. You are rarely balanced; you have all your Personal Protective Equipment around you; sunlight has a habit of getting in your eyes at the most inopportune moments; the wind always gets up, affecting your hearing, just when you don't want it to! Tools have lanyards on them. Usually about an inch too short! To cap it all off, the spanner you brought up is the wrong size! In her remarkable book, Taking on the World (Michael Joseph 2002, ISBN 0-7181-4525-9), Ellen Mc Arthur relates, in vivid form, her efforts to do maintenance work on her yacht, "Kingfisher", in high seas. In one episode she tells of going aloft to retrieve a halyard: "I returned to the deck completely exhausted: I had found it hard enough just to hang on, let alone bring the halyard down." She had climbed 90 feet up the mast, in high seas and ferocious winds! She goes on to relate another episode where she was aloft for over four hours wondering all the while if the automatic pilot would malfunction. She wrote that the seas were so high, had the automatic pilot switched off, the vessel would have heeled over so far, that she could have walked down the mainsail! "The job only took half an hour, then I began my descent. This was by far the most dangerous part and I had my heart in my mouth... we had been surfing at well over 20 knots while I was up there... my limbs were bruised and my head was spinning, but I felt like a million dollars as I spoke on the phone..." To Ellen, it was the descent that was the hardest. Despite having a rope she was carrying aloft snagging, despite the horrors of the dead weight of 200 feet of halyard that she was taking with her, after four hours she could still be exhilarated!
I once did an abseiling job on Wellington Stadium's four light towers. I had to replace two split pins on each tower. Four towers, half a day's work- no problems! We assumed that the contractor would have used standard (same sized) split pins. Accordingly, I went aloft and found that each fitting had different-sized pins. The job took twice as long. Mind you, the reason we were up there was the building contractor had put in galvanized pins where stainless steel was specified. Being right next to the sea, the obvious happened. They rusted. Wind, salt sea air and grit erosion did the trick. I had to drill out each rusted-in pin. Very hard swinging up there. This is the kind of circumstance where two-way radio systems are invaluable, as you can keep your workmates up-to-date with what is happening. Maybe others are more efficient than me, but I have found that no rigging job goes perfectly to plan. On the other hand, restrict talk to essentials, or it can be a distraction. I think that is the skill of the rigger: to adjust to circumstances on the spot, and to have the ability to adapt, to accept, and to solve challenges in hazardous situations. I do try to minimise these problems, but I still find rigging hard work. And it does take twice as long as you think that it will. 13. Do it right, do it once.
My contribution to this maxim is to stress that prior planning, research and preparation are so very, very important. The other rule applying here is the old: łA stitch in time saves nine.˛ In rigging, as in all jobs, we see little things that need fixing, so we go ahead and do them. On a sailing ship recently, I herringboned a hatch cover, which I saw had a small tear in it. I was criticised for spending time on "secondary issues." But to me these matters soon become big issues if not dealt with when they are small. Particularly on a ship. A large part of a rigger's job is to walk about the worksite looking at, and attending to, small repair jobs. 14. Risks. If you are a boss: "Is your profit worth killing for?" If you are a worker: "Is your boss worth dying for?" The answer is obvious to each question, but a third one then arises: Why are so many people still killed whilst earning a living? I must admit that I have been on dangerous jobs where safety has been compromised, and I continued in those jobs because I needed the money. But I am not proud of this. It is a two-way matter. The legislation and regulations are there to protect both employer and employee. Your only protection on such jobs is to ensure that there are always backup safety systems. When conditions are dangerous, take your time, work as carefully as you can, and then get out of the job as soon as possible. Always keep meticulous records of all you have done on the job. Where possible, take photographs, before and afterwards. Keep them at home in a safe place. Where possible, get a workmate to agree to testify to the truth of any matters recorded should legal action be taken against you. Think twice when you are asked to use other people's safety gear. Personally, I never use other people's harnesses or abseiling ropes. If I were ever to do it, I would insist on knowing the industrial background of the equipment. But most important of all, I would thoroughly check every inch of this gear and not hesitate to discard it if I had ANY doubts. Never let anyone else secure your personal protective equipment. I learnt this lesson, without mishap fortunately. I worked in an Observatory and offered to climb on the inside of the dome to secure a fitting. It meant hanging upside down. I asked a colleague, who was an abseiler, to fit the scaffold clips onto the back of my harness. I forgot to tell him to fit the clips onto the metal ring, put there for that purpose. He fitted it instead to the plastic spreader at the back of the harness. If I had needed to put a load on these clips while aloft, they would certainly have failed. I realised what had happened only when I completed the job and was on the ground taking off the harness. I was very lucky. This was completely my fault and I have never again allowed anyone else to secure me or my equipment prior to a climb. The choice of Personal Protective Equipment is a personal one, or one dictated by the employer. But do make sure that you can read the accompanying supplier's literature so that you can determine all safety aspects of the equipment. I personally use Petzl gear, because I can determine the necessary safety specifications for each piece of equipment. This includes being able to determine who actually made that piece of gear. But most important to me is the ability to rate each piece of equipment against international standards of safety. Regarding risks. My own maxim is: Eliminate All Risks. If I can't completely eliminate risk on a job, I rethink the whole operation. There are times when you try to eliminate risk completely in the planning stages, but whilst on the job you do silly things, like stretching that little bit too far. If you get away with it, you try to ensure that you don't repeat it. These are the situations where riggers often come to grief. Another safety practice from the world of diving was explained to me by Geoffrey Budworth, a past police diver on the river Thames, and a Metropolitan Police Inspector. He is also author of the book; "River Beat, a history of London's River Police since 1798." (Historical Publications Limited: 1998. ISBN: 0-948667-41-9). He writes, "Divers have a useful trick which riggers may or may not use. When divers work under water within reach of something, which if activated, would be a hazard, they personally check beforehand that it has been immobilised, de-activiated, padlocked or whatever. They take any key, fuse or other item down with them, so that they know where it is (and that nobody unaware of the situation can come along and switch on or open up the hazardous equipment)." When rigging, I have a carabiner (snap link) on my tool belt. I always take my own personal keys aloft with me. Keeping keys to potential hazards on this carabiner sounds an excellent idea. 15. You don't have to be rough to be tough. Since starting wage-working in 1956, I have met many really tough people. Surprisingly the REAL tough people are all rather gentle, polite and courteous. They are also very clean and tidy. Cuts, bruises, burns, and grazes are all part of the rigger's lot. If you were not careful about personal hygiene, you would very soon become septic! And you would be off work regularly. Tidiness and order on a rigging job are essential, because when things go wrong, and you reach for a tool which is not in the right place, there are always serious consequences. My early rigging life was with men 40 years older than I was. They may have been drinkers, probably were poor husbands and fathers because of the long hours they had to work. But on the job they were meticulous in their work practices. I admire and salute genuinely tough people, and despise brutal people of any sort. I do enjoy the company of riggers and other workers because they are positive people, contributing to society, not leeching off it. 16. 7/8ths of the job is completed by the time you start climbing. This really sums up all the above maxims. Thinking through the job: planning; preparation activities; researching; getting the gear to site; setting up; training; and agreeing on work methods ‹ they all have to take place before the job actually commences. Don't forget the finishing-up aspect of the job! In my work planning I also add onto this maxim, that if all the time in the pre-work phase and the actual work phase is added up as a sum to that time... then some sizeable fraction of that time has to be added for tidying up, packing away, and final reporting. I have noticed that once people come down from a climb, they often walk away and don't even think about this aspect of the job. Finishing the job properly and not leaving others to do it all, is a major indicator to me about the professionalism of a rigger. In conclusion:
Thanks: I especially want to acknowledge the leadership I have always received from Brian Field, who has recently stepped down as President of the International Guild of Knot Tyers. Brian's warmth and humanity has engendered the conditions which have allowed this article to be written. His urging that the Guild was not only a forum for the exchange of ideas but was a venue for people to be together. He rightly calls it: "The Friendly Guild" I have had the idea to produce a book called: "Proud to be High" for a number of years, where I record top height workers' professional lives. My son, Robbie is a professional photographer and a climber. It was, and still is, my hope to use him to take action shots of these people. I now realise that this exercise has stirred those old plans again. Thanks to you, Des and Geoffrey. At the editing stage: To Geoffrey Budworth for the forward to this article and for his wise suggestions. These editing comments have led to many improvements to the article. Thank you also Geoffrey for information about Ellen Mc Arthur's wonderful adventures. To Des Pawson for suggesting to me that the names of my mentors should be recorded. The lessons that I have learnt have been from people who may never have had their names recorded otherwise. To Jeff Wyatt, recently appointed President of the International Guild of Knot Tyers, for help in converting metric measures to imperial ones, encouragement, editorial advice and friendship. To other members of the International Guild of Knot Tyers: Richard Hopkins who has updated me on UK standards in rigging and abseiling and lent me an enormous literature that he has collected, Europa Chang-Dawson for many kindnesses (especially the road map of England) and additional comments, to Ian Schofield for driving me around the country, and especially to the Surrey branch meetings and to another founding member of the Guild, Don Woods, for introducing me to the Essex Branch. I want especially to thank Harold Scott and his wife, Ethel, not only for their courtesy and hospitality, but also for taking me into dimensions and realms of wire and rope knotting practice and theory I never knew existed! Thank you also, Bob Dean and Louisa King of RGH Rigging Services, London, for your friendly support since my arrival here in England, to fellow crewmembers on the "Golden Hinde": Jamoulie; John; Joe; Catherine; and Laurence. Dedicated to my mentors: Jim Lang, Graeme Keen, Jim Whitty, Fred Peak, "Bluey" Welch, Charlie Henderson, George McCutcheon, Kenny Ross, John & Joy Ackrill, Bob & Mary Box, John Forsythe, Pat Cunningham, Terry Poynton, Jack Sheahan, David Crockett and all The Chatham Islands Taiko Recovery Expedition Team. All these people, riggers, scaffolders, sailors, engineers, ship owners, and scout leaders had a huge influence on the experiences behind this article. Tony Fisher |
|||||||||
© Brion Toss Rigging. Web Development: Wind's Eye Design, Inc. |