Across the South West, some of the most important work protecting rivers and seas happens out of sight. Beneath roads, footpaths and farmland lies a vast network of pipes, chambers and pumping stations designed to carry wastewater safely away from homes and communities.

When the system works, it attracts little attention. When it fails, the consequences can be serious.

For Pete Turney, who spent more than 40 years working across sewerage, drainage and wastewater treatment before retiring, the job relied on instinct, experience and making judgement calls with limited information.

For Lewis Salter, part of a new generation of wastewater operatives at South West Water, the same job now starts with cameras, tablets and 3D images that show what’s happening below ground.

They never worked side by side.

But, put their experiences together, and the contrast tells the story of how the job - and the risks that come with it - have changed.

“You looked, you judged, and you hoped you were right”

Pete joined the industry in the early 1970s, just after responsibility for sewerage and drainage transferred from local councils.

“The network was in desperate need of modernisation,” he said. “There was basically no technology. None.”

Communication with teams in the field relied on unreliable radios.

Maps were outdated. Many jobs were physical, labour-intensive and slow.

“If we had a blockage or a burst, you’d have teams of us walking across muddy fields in all weathers, looking for signs of a spill. Sometimes you didn’t even know exactly where the sewer was meant to be.”

If the records didn’t show it clearly, the only option was to dig.

“We’d excavate trial holes with a digger just to try and locate the pipe.”

Sewage pumping stations - often underground because of odour and gases like methane and hydrogen sulphide - were inspected manually.

“That meant climbing down rusty ladder rungs with a torch,” Pete said. “You lifted a cover, had a look, and made a call based on what you could see., and half the time, what mattered was what you couldn’t see.”

“It needed planning, permits, the right PPE, breathing apparatus, gas monitors. And even then, you were still guessing until you were down there.”

He pauses when he talks about it now.

“Putting people into tanks or sewers always carries risk. Any technology that takes some of that away and that’s a good thing.”

“I can’t imagine working any other way”

Lewis entered the industry in a very different world.

“I honestly can’t imagine doing this job without the tech,” he said. “It must have been tough.”

Instead of torches and guesswork, Lewis uses high-resolution 360-degree cameras lowered into chambers, sometimes more than 15 metres deep, supported by powerful lighting. Drones capture the layout above ground.

“The camera takes images every metre. Walls, joints, fittings, stuff you’d never spot from the surface.”

The footage is processed into detailed 3D visual models that can be viewed remotely.

“Someone in the office can see exactly what I’m seeing, without standing over a manhole.

“That changes how decisions get made.”