Upholstery Factory Workplace Standards

I had a conversation with a family friend while we were laying on a beach in Ibiza and he mentioned his furniture business team had grown in number to 250+ due to increasing orders from some high street leaders. Thinking I may be able to help with some of his legislative training requirements I offered to lend a hand with the Fire Training aspect, Risk Assessments etc. and we agreed a kick off date and time.

Great start to the visit - I got to the factory site earlier than required and as my Mother (bless her) passed me my sandwiches and a flask of coffee (because us boys will always need looking after) we noted a forklift vehicle heading towards us carrying a full stack of what I discovered later were bed mechanisms for install into the sofas being manufactured in the main building. When I say 'full stack'...I mean a 'full stack', and with no restraining method applied they were rocking and moving as the vehicle travelled across the undulating road surface...we could not see the operator because the stack was so high and wide. The operator could not see too well from his side either based on the stack immediately in front of his vision. With deeper holes being encountered the jostling became more obvious and to prevent the stack from crashing to the ground while at speed the operator casually climbed off the seat, picked up his pace to align himself alongside the stack of metalwork and braced one side of the stack until the road condition improved. Once passed the holed flooring he then quickly re-took his seat onboard and on a much improved section of concrete sped up toward an automatic 'up and over' roller door which was activated by the breaking of a sensor beam and disappeared inside.

The screams coming from the inside of the factory space quickly turned to foul and heated language and all from feminine voices much to my surprise. A lot had happened with just two minutes of my arrival at the factory so I had a sense it was going to be 'eventful' and this was before we had undertaken any form of fire training.

Not being familiar with the layout of the premises or main building my curiosity of the roller door got the better of me and as I moved closer once again the huge door rolled up at speed with a 'whoosh' and I was not presented with a mixture of people, immensely long tables, sewing machines and quite literally stacks and stacks of single, 2-seater and 3-seater sofas presented from floor to ceiling across half of the cavernous space.

As i edged my way into the space and headed toward the growing mass of ladies near the sewing machines it became apparent that the swearing and cursing had emanated from this team and was still being gestured toward the back end of the fork lift truck as it weaved its way across the factory floor avoiding many sofa obstacles, more people and iron stanchions that braced the ceiling throughout. Looking at the multiple blackened tyre marks on the almost polished floor, and in particular several newer looking ones close to the angry bunch of ladies, it struck me that the fork lift operator had been veering closer and closer on each pass to the 40+ bunch who were tailoring the fabrics prior to them being fitted to the wooden sofa carcasses I could see further over. My old 'spider sense' was now on hyper-level and I could see there were no barriers or railings between the fork lift operating area and where the large group of ladies sat at individual machines quite literally 'weaving their magic'!

With the air still as blue as some of the hair do's I decided to give this space a wider berth and headed to the ultra-long tables that ran across one side of the main building. In total there were 4 separate benches of approximately 60 feet in length which it turns out were used to accommodate the many layers of fabric used to stencil with chalk and then cut depending on the style and specification needed. What caught my eye this time was a gentleman kneeling on top of a great many layers of fabric that I considered was too high to my untrained eye. In the chaps right hand was a reciprocating blade cutter which he used while following the chalk line that had been applied to the upper most layer of material. The blade was approximately 7" long and I noted 'had no guard fitted' across the blade area...a closer look at the chaps fingers and hand saw what looked collectively like a professional boxers hand just before the 'big glove' goes on and a mass of white tape across the fist and fingers...this was in fact a collection of plasters and make shift bandaging that had been applied by himself due to nicked contacts with the reciprocating blade as he maneuvered it around the over stacked material and chasing the chalk directions. He saw I was looking at his hands and in an instant climbed down from the top of the fabric stack and table and landed next to me offering me a handshake!. In a beautiful strong Welsh accent he said "I know what your thinking but their only nicks and they don't urt" (meaning the impact points of the blade to skin), "I stacked extra for this one as I'm leaving early today and I took the guard off cause I can only cut 15 layers when that's on there...without the guard I can do 20 odd and we all does it". I didn't shake his hand...it may have hurt me more than him.

What I loved about that situation was the fact that he just disclosed everything to me without me saying or asking him anything 'safety ish related'. I wasn't dressed particularly smart, I had no hi-viz clothing on and with so many people under one roof I could have been, and in fact was 'just anyone' but he had an over-riding need to tell me what he had done and why he had done it.

I could go on as there were many obvious and not so obvious safety compromises to my alerted eyes but to spare everyone I shall ease up on the details. Suffice to say that between the back of the factory where new items of furniture were being 'hand balled' into awaiting lorries and the 'Office' sign on the opposite side of the building space where I was aiming to go I saw so much 'confusion', busy business, moving people, that bloody forklift again and a group of grown men darting behind frames and sofa carcasses firing metal stapler pins at each other like a re-enactment of what I imaged were soldiers in the trenches of years ago.

All in all, I encountered maybe 50+ people between the road side and my getting to the Admin Office which spanned about 25 minutes. In my further effort to blend in and now well aware that my time in the military had altered me in more ways than one, tweeked and emphasized my then diminishing natural Welsh accent when offering an "alright there", or "hiya butt" even a few "hiya mate" words fell out which stopped everyone from asking me the simple questions...'who are you', 'what are you doing here', or 'can I help you'?

Recounting this in my head leads me to considering another type of TV show that we have not seen so far where contestants have to infiltrate a business and see how long they can last before they are apprehended by security...I would be an evident winner so far maybe.

When I finally got to the MD's office he was evidently pleased to see me and was 'intrigued' to hear of some of my observations...and 'surprised' to hear how long I had been there without any form of arrest or questioning...definitely a need for improved Security arrangements while we were going to fix stuff.

My introduction to the workforce by the Managing Director was one of those 'magic moments' I shall treasure...the looks on the faces below us in the corner of the factory as we were propped on a staircase landing several meters above. The sudden realisation of "I know's im" (Welsh bit again...sorry).

Needless to say there was a need of training for the collective workforce and not just on Fire Awareness. The people that worked there...well, it's a Welsh thing and they were fantastic to work with and I was made to feel so welcome and appreciated. The fork lift driver changed his ways and speed!, the ladies stopped swearing once the barriers were put in place and the non-professional boxer finally realised there was a safer way of getting it done without a daily fight.

Upon reflection and from the conversation held on the beach some months earlier to where we took the business with regards to safety, and in such a short time line and with nobody hurt we had done well. Bigger orders came in which provided security and peace of mind for the workforce, in fact, the whole feel of the business grew positively.

It's true what they say...'we can't make an omelet without cracking eggs' and some times we have to keep dusting ourselves down to get better.

Stay safe everyone and remember that 'safety is never a compromise'