A real high flying position (by Daily Telegraph reporter Tim Vollmer pictured above): My mind is racing as I scramble over the edge of the office building's roof - the street below now worryingly distant - with just two strands of rope, no thicker than a finger, all that is holding my weight. I struggle to slide into a small wooden seat, clip my full body harness on to it, then am handed the tools of my trade for the day - sponge, small bucket and squeegee. With the rise of glass-covered multi-storey towers has come a new job, the high-rise window cleaner, requiring a handful of brave souls to dangle anywhere up to 100m in the air from a flimsy-looking rope, washing away the city's grime.
"The gear doesn't fail . . . usually," Safetek director and my boss for the day Jan Kroupa says reassuringly, seeing my nervous eyes glancing at the collection of carabiners, descenders and safety lines hanging from my body. We've attached our ropes to two anchors on the roof, which I'm told is actually the biggest safety risk, as the team's mechanical test kit regularly uncovers unsafe bolts that could give way. Once over the side I slowly lower myself down to the first window, making sure all my equipment is clipped to me with lengths of cord so nothing falls to the footpath. We've already tested for wind - using the hi-tech technique of spitting from the roof and watching where it falls - ensuring we work in the right direction and don't have drips blowing on to clean sections of glass.
Through the glass I can just make out the office workers at their desks, with a few of the women giving a wave and a smile, but most oblivious to the pair of spider-men clinging to the window. The actual washing is an artform, with the window quickly covered in suds before I attempt the surprisingly difficult task of wiping it off with the squeegee using a single unbroken motion. We give the edges a quick wipe, again to stop drips, then lower ourselves down slightly and start the process over. Each strip is about 2m wide and experienced guys can do much more, swinging across and jamming their skyhooks into crevices on the building.
I've picked an easy day for it, with almost no wind and mild weather. On a summer scorcher the task becomes substantially harder, with a surface temperature of more than 60C giving just seconds to do the whole task before the water evaporates. For Jan, the biggest challenge is finding good staff. "For some reason this industry attracts a lot of weird people," he says. I can't imagine why.
"The gear doesn't fail . . . usually," Safetek director and my boss for the day Jan Kroupa says reassuringly, seeing my nervous eyes glancing at the collection of carabiners, descenders and safety lines hanging from my body. We've attached our ropes to two anchors on the roof, which I'm told is actually the biggest safety risk, as the team's mechanical test kit regularly uncovers unsafe bolts that could give way. Once over the side I slowly lower myself down to the first window, making sure all my equipment is clipped to me with lengths of cord so nothing falls to the footpath. We've already tested for wind - using the hi-tech technique of spitting from the roof and watching where it falls - ensuring we work in the right direction and don't have drips blowing on to clean sections of glass.
Through the glass I can just make out the office workers at their desks, with a few of the women giving a wave and a smile, but most oblivious to the pair of spider-men clinging to the window. The actual washing is an artform, with the window quickly covered in suds before I attempt the surprisingly difficult task of wiping it off with the squeegee using a single unbroken motion. We give the edges a quick wipe, again to stop drips, then lower ourselves down slightly and start the process over. Each strip is about 2m wide and experienced guys can do much more, swinging across and jamming their skyhooks into crevices on the building.
I've picked an easy day for it, with almost no wind and mild weather. On a summer scorcher the task becomes substantially harder, with a surface temperature of more than 60C giving just seconds to do the whole task before the water evaporates. For Jan, the biggest challenge is finding good staff. "For some reason this industry attracts a lot of weird people," he says. I can't imagine why.
In this job, you really live the high life: Abseiling from the top of Adelaide’s tallest buildings, Stuart Pope sees the city in a different light. “In the morning if we start early the sun is rising and it is very picturesque,” Mr Pope says. “I think it is the thing that the boys like the most - the different perspective on life. Looking down, everyone seems to be so busy.” Mr Pope, 42, is licensed to abseil off high-rises for any manner of jobs, from washing windows and cleaning hard-to-reach places to erecting signs. Three-quarters of his clients are city-based and 80 per cent of his jobs involve high-rise buildings. Mr Pope laughs when asked about the strange things he has seen through building windows. “We’ve definitely caught some people by surprise,” he says. “We’ve seen ladies showing more than they should be.”
Mr Pope, who employs 11 people including five other licensed abseilers, says the work attracts naturally adventurous people but he has had some potential employees get cold feet. “We have had guys who were very keen to start with, then realised they are out of their comfort zone,” he says. “Some of the lads will have a look from above before they abseil and we will start them on a smaller building to get them used to it.” And when he says “lads” he means it literally: Only one woman has seriously asked him about a job. “If the girls are capable of doing the work we are keen to take them.”
He says the job requires a high level of physical fitness, and a respect for and knowledge of safety practices. Mr Pope runs his own business, Sky High Access Australia, from Panorama with wife Sarah. Working for a window cleaner straight out of school, he branched out on his own 21 years ago, mainly catering for domestic clients, and completed a certificate in abseiling 14 years ago. “Rather nervous” is how he felt the first time he went over the top.
For the record, the highest building Mr Pope has abseiled down is Telstra House on Pirie St, which is more than 100m tall. While retirement is years away, Mr Pope says when the time comes he will have to find something to replace the adrenaline rush abseiling brings. “I think there are other ways I can do that, such as para-gliding or bungee jumping,” he says. Pictured above: High achievers, window cleaners, from left, Stuart Pope, Dan, Jon, Ryan and Rob.
No comments:
Post a Comment