Specifically, a 50-metre, double-sided, high-vis, reinforced-fibreglass legend in my own right. You might think being a surveyor’s tape is glamorous in terms of my precision, geometry and neatly coiled glory. You’d be wrong. This is my story.
You haven’t truly lived until you’ve been dropped down a Victorian brick sewer during a “quick invert check”. One moment I’m basking in the back of the van, the next…Sploosh…I’m face-first in what I sincerely hope was just runoff.
Surveyor mutters, “’Bit whiffy down there”. Bit?! Mate, I can taste 1862.
Please note: I do not have a pest control clause in my contract.
Let’s talk about rats. Not figurative ones, but the real ones. I’ve seen them. I’ve been sniffed by them. Once, I was used as a tightrope by a particularly confident one who clearly skipped leg day.
I’ve been dipped in a brew. I’ve been used as a guide for how far the surveyor can throw their spirit level in frustration. I’ve been stepped on, buried, frozen solid and once used to stir a Pot Noodle.
And yet, when the client says “accurate to 2mm, please”, I’m still expected to perform like a Swiss watch.
There’s nothing quite as humbling as being threaded under a temporary fence, over a live cable trench and beneath the wheels of a dumper truck only to be yanked back at 60mph when someone shouts “reel it in!” with the care of a toddler on espresso.
I’ve met the underside of more boots than a festival ground.
Wiped with a sleeve. Hosed off (badly). Sprayed with what might’ve been deodorant once.
More commonly: left wet, muddy and curled up like a soggy lasagne sheet in the back of the van with a rogue pork pie and three copies of the Highway Code (none-current).
I’ve been stepped on, buried, frozen solid and once used to stir a Pot Noodle.
Ever had your metal end hook caught on rebar, fencing, a pigeon, and a junior engineer’s nose ring all in one week? I have.
I’m basically a magnet for chaos, and yet I’m still expected to hang perfectly at the 0.00 mark.
Despite the abuse, indignity and proximity to every imaginable bodily fluid, I get the job done.
Because when all the tech fails, the GNSS is drifting, the laser scanner’s gone on strike, the total station’s locked onto a bin bag, I’m still there.
You need a quick offset? A manhole spacing? A last-minute measure when the CAD file doesn’t match the real world?
Guess who’s up.
So, the next time you see a tape measure on site, grimy, cracked, held together with duct tape and raw willpower, spare a thought for what it’s been through.
We don’t just measure the world.
We’ve seen things.
And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll write a memoir: “50 Metres of Misery: Tales from the Trench”. Coming soon to a site cabin near you.
Want accurate, professional surveying without sacrificing your tape measure’s dignity? Call Academy Geomatics. We’ll get the job done (and maybe clean our gear afterwards, too).
For more information about our geospatial services, or to commission a survey or discuss a project, please get in touch.
