For around a year now, the British Transport Police have teamed up with all Train Operating Companies (TOCs) in Britain, along with Network Rail and other rail stakeholders, to promote their special text number, to which anything suspicious or out-of-the-ordinary can be reported, anonymously if preferred.
61016 should be announced on board all trains at least once an hour and its use is part of a toolkit to report anything from a passenger feeling intimidated by behaviour in their coach, to someone at a station who's seen something that doesn't look right - like someone photographing CCTV cameras.
I've been told in the past that texting 61016 can also bring benefits to train guards who have problems with passengers. Guards are normally told to call the British Transport Police for any assistance they require, though from previous - successful - experience, you do have to go through some laborious yet necessary questions, which can take time and often time is of the essence.
Recently I was working a train across the Hope Valley from Sheffield to Stockport. A lady said she had purchase her ticket via a mobile App and that subsequently her phone's battery had run out of charge and was now flat. I reminded her that when she agrees to purchase a ticket in this way, she agrees to ensure sufficient charge in her phone and that if she was unable to show a valid ticket for the journey she was making, she would be required to pay again.
However, the ticket machine system we use has a Samsung phone as its main constituent part and we've all been issued with Samsung USB chargers. I carry mine with me when checking tickets on trains in which feature USB charging points. I was in one of these very trains and offered up my charge lead.
The lady rather tentatively took up my offer - which started alarm bells ringing - and I stayed with her until her phone had sufficient charge to turn on. Unfortunately, the lady was unable to find any ticket she had purchased on the mobile App used. Nothing at all. How strange (or not)!?
She then turned rather combative and refused to pay or supply me with her details so I could issue her an Unpaid Fares Notice (UFN) which can be paid up to 21 days later. I said she'd have to leave the train at the next station (Stockport). Ten seconds later I entered the front vestibule of the train and found three lads who were all unaware of what had happened with the lady in the coach. They said they tickets were on her flat mobile phone too.
Their faces were a picture when I told them I'd used my Samsung charger to charge their friend's phone. Yet none was willing to pay or give me their details, citing an error in the mobile App's process. Again, I told them to leave at the next station, but the mild abuse they responded with made it clear they had no intention to leave the train there as it wasn't their destination.
I went to the back cab and text 61016. I'd been told that this misses the initial layer of personnel, and goes through to the main Control Room, where they decide immediately whether to action the request or not.
I gave my name, position and train's head code. I detailed what had happened and how I suspected none of the 4 would leave at Stockport. I made BTP aware this was a fare evasion issue and nothing more serious.
As I'd predicted, the passengers failed to leave the train at Stockport. Once we had left, I send an update to 61016 that started: "Hi. Further to my previous message..." and gave my platform number and arrival time at my next station, Manchester Piccadilly.
Upon arrival, I noticed a BTP officer speaking to a member of platform staff on the opposite platform to mine. I opened my (local) door only, as is procedure. I did consider calling the officer over, though thought this rather rude as she could be dealing with something more serious and that I only had 4 people on who didn't want to pay. At the moment I decided to release all of the doors, allowing all passengers to leave all coaches, the BTP officer walked over and asked if I was the 2037 arrival.
Aaaaaargh! The scene we were faced with in trying to identify the fare evaders, who were now leaving the train with around 200 others, was similar to the scene in The Dark Knight movie where at the funeral of Commissioner Loeb, the Joker and his allies (dressed as Gotham police officers) attempt to assassinate Mayor Garcia and all hell breaks loose. There are fake cops and good cops running all over the place after shots were fired.
Sadly, and perhaps, typically, we were unable to find the fare evaders. The BTP officer had a further two with her, I should add. Perhaps we should have remained at the stairs off the platform (the only exit) rather than try and find the "perps"? The lady had a date tattooed on her chest, and since that was the only unique feature I could recall, the officer radioed the gateline at the exit to the station, where ticket checks were being made.
The dispatcher told me that the 'barriers' were in operation, so was fairly confident that they'd be stopped and following the radio message, be made to pay.
Knowing the layout of Manchester Piccadilly station, unless there was some kinds of blockade at the top of the stairs off my platform, there were many different avenues any fare evader could take to leave the station, via a whole host of different platforms, not just down the travelator - the route most would take.
Some you win, some you lose. It was reassuring, though, that two texts to 61016 were taken seriously and BTP dispatched. My only criticism is that I was never responded to by text detailing the reference number or told of the outcome (whether they were caught or not). Buy, hey, for me it was all over once we'd left Manchester Piccadilly. Onwards...
