Work orders onto a tablet
The office writes it, a tablet carries it, the crew ticks it off and sends photos. One packet, one device, no account for anybody on site.
SchradWorks Dispatch
The office plans it. The crew scans it. The record comes back. One platform, adjusted to your trade — the words, the forms, the codes, the checks — and hosted where you can see it.
What it does
The office writes it, a tablet carries it, the crew ticks it off and sends photos. One packet, one device, no account for anybody on site.
A daily check from the key tag: walk-around, lights, fluids, the bucket, the tools on board. The office sees every answer and approves before the keys move.
Ask what the code says and get the passage from your own copy, named, in feet and metres — never a number from memory.
The clearances and separations you work to, above the code, answered in one line: the figure, the metres, what it is for.
Every yard pinned on its building from the address alone. Nearest yard at a touch, distance and drive time, directions into the phone's own maps.
Ask in plain words. Codes come back one to a row, the extra folded under, the passage one press away. A model on your own box — nothing leaves it.
A screen on site shows the day's task list; a camera shows the yard; a link shows a client both, live, with nothing they could press.
Your own box, your own data, backed up nightly. No outside calls, no inbound ports, no third party in the middle of your crews' day.
On the screen
Your trade
Nothing here is a template with a trade's name on it. The words, the forms, the codes and the checks are set once for your account, and every screen speaks them.
A day's work order
Your own codes and clearances, from your sheet and your copy of the code — never from memory.
Source of truth and safety
A clearance keeps a lineman alive. The product quotes the passage from the account's own code book and names the document, or says plainly that there is nothing to quote. It never gives a figure from memory.
Feet and inches the way it is called out of a bucket, metres beside it. Where the book prints both, both come from the book; where it does not, the line says the number was converted.
A yard is pinned on its building from the address, from data kept on the box. No button on the everyday screen can move it. The office reads, measures and gives directions.
The data, the model, the map's pins, the code book: all on a machine you own, reached through a tunnel that dials out. No inbound port, no outside service in the loop.
How we work
We read your work and your data before we write a line, and put what we found in writing: what exists, what is missing, what we propose, and the decisions that are yours.
The ambitious version, built properly the first time: your vocabulary, your forms, your sheet, your book.
Over a thousand checks run before anything reaches your box, on your box. A release that fails one never lands.
Every release has a note: what changed, why, and how to do it again. The next one is a command, not a memory.
Get in touch
Tell us what they do and what slows them down, and we'll get back to you.