I’d driven past this popular anomaly in the cliffs dozens of times and I never thought it was much more than simply one of the many rock pools scattered around the Sydney regions I often explore. This one however looked a little more… natural… to the others so I took a closer look.
Believe it or not this was a convict built one! Beginning construction (or is it demolition?) in 1820, it was originally intended to be a private-use sea bath for Lieutenant Colonel James Thomas Morriset, who was the then Commandant of Newcastle.
The sea-bath, nestled neatly below the cliffs of King Edward’s Park, became a public place of recreation in the 1860’s after being slightly enlarged . Shortly before I took the above photo the council had just finished a new access path & steps making the infamous & sometimes treacherous walk down the cliff edge a bit less exciting but a lot safer.
Locals are used to referring to it as the “Bogey” hole which, unknown to my Novacastrian friends, is actually derived from the local aboriginal word meaning “to bathe”. Although not as popular as the nearby beaches this historic hole still gets a decent amount of use by residents and the occasional tourist. There is little doubt that it will still continue to offer a calm and safe spot to cool down for well over another 200 years.
The roads around the Northern Rivers region of NSW are an amazing place to spend a few days getting lost in. Today saw me meandering along the banks of the Clarence on my way to Yamba when I spied this building just outside of Lawrence.
Perched high on top of a small hill it was easy to assume that it was something special. The sign pointing me towards an ‘historical site’, in a north-eastern direction, confirmed my suspicions.
It happened to be the former 2NR radio station and was all too proud to let it be known on it’s stark white facade. It had been converted for quite some years already into the local museum and boasted excellent displays of local and broadcasting memorabilia. At least that’s what the sign outside told me. The museum had closed and was gated up.
I was too late to see inside but stood and admired the old girl’s humble grandeur for a few minutes longer before hitting the road again.
Apart from it’s famed jacaranda trees there is something extra special about Grafton. It has a unique character for an Aussie country town and it feels to me like it’s much further inland than it is.
Grafton was declared a city in 1885 when it’s main role was to supply the large and lush farming districts dotted beside the meandering Clarence River. The Bridge is the most mesmerising iron bridge that I have seen in Australia. Hang on… better make that second most. Care to guess the first?
Open in 1932, the construction of the bridge helped connect a community divided by the vast waters and was a vital link in the Sydney-Brisbane railroad. It was hailed as a great feat of engineering and of “Australian and Imperial importance”.
The Grafton Bridge has two levels. The upper is a reinforced concrete roadway to carry general street traffic while the lower level is a railroad with two pedestrian footpaths either side. When you enter the town, from the South Grafton side, there is no other option but to drive across the locally named “Bendy Bridge” which derives it’s name from the turn you must make at either end. This bend makes it terribly treacherous at times particularly when there is an approaching bus or grey nomad – a very common sight in this corner of the world!
After crossing the river from the south the rail and road diverge into two separate routes through the town centre. The train follows a elegant and arched viaduct through the town creating yet another unique scene throughout the already pretty town of Grafton.
In addition to the two-tiered bridge it has another amazing yet currently inoperative function. It has a huge bascule span of twenty-five metres in length that was regularly used to let large river traffic through. These days, very little river traffic is seen apart from recreation craft.
If you’re ever near check out the bridge and drive across it several times Like I did. Other sights of interest in Grafton are the jacaranda trees, the old homesteads dotted throughout the town and the banks of The Clarence River at sunset to watch the nightly departure of the flying foxes.
When I first saw photo’s of Trial Bay Gaol I was absolutely bemused at it’s existence. After discovering exactly where it was I quickly moved to the very top of the must see places on my north coast trip list. Trial Bay, and the namesake gaol, didn’t disappoint and had me in awe at it’s scale. That the leaders in Sydney and people at the time would even considered such a task at the time is impressive in itself… and they actually built it!
Let’s begin with a little background story. In the mid-19th century one of Australia’s busiest shipping routes was Sydney to Moreton Bay (Brisbane). The seas were formidable and all up some 90 ships and 243 lives were lost along the East Coast, of NSW by the mid 1800s. Something had to be done urgently to help and Trial Bay was designated, as a perfect refuge.
It’s geographic location and deep waters made the cove an ideal for ships to stop off, resupply and take refuge from the battering of the southerly storms which were a regularity on the treacherous voyage. One thing that was needed at Trial Bay however was the construction of a break wall to prevent waves interrupting the boats at bay. Arakoon, the small settlement nearby, was tipped to become one of Australia’s most prosperous cities after this 1.5km wall was constructed.
Beginning in 1877 the venture needed a much bigger workforce than the small farming communities around the Macleay River could supply. So they decided to build a gaol! Why? Well, one could barely call it original, yet someone obviously took inspiration in the great British tradition of casting felons off to far flung lands and of course, the governors in Sydney and Brisbane were happy to oblige.
The free labour from the prisoners went to use with haste but they soon faced issues. Even with a large team of skilled workers and stonemasons, preparing the strong local stone was surprisingly difficult and added much more time than they had originally anticipated. The Gaol was completed in 1886.
Trial Bay gaol is the only large scale prison built for public works project in Australian history. Because of it’s remoteness it was only ever used to house well behaved convicts approaching the end of their terms and in the years to follow, the prison more or less had an open door policy and minimal security. The escapes they had were mostly accidental with people getting lost or returning late after being on day release. For the most part the convicts were well-behaved and were keen to avoid risking their eventual release by following the rules. Besides they would probably perish, or fall into trouble with the natives, while trying to leave the area.
The grand ol’ girl upon completion. In the foreground is the superintendents homestead. It’s now a coffee shop.
After a few engineering debates and a budget issue, the prisoners began construction on the wall began in 1889. Progress was slow. This was due to the same problems they had quarrying of rock for the gaol, but in addition to this they had constant storms, gales and wash-aways while trying to extend out from the point. After 10 years only reached one seventh of what it’s final length was intended to be.
In 1903, yes fourteen years after it began, they had a change in engineering methods. The holes in the wall between larger rocks started to be filled with smaller ones. Shortly after this change another large southerly storm hit. The new style wall still could not stand up to the power of the mighty Tasman and neither could the government. They accepted defeat and the break wall was left as a 300m long mess. The gaol was abandoned before the year was out.
The last few years of construction were in reality pretty pointless. The newer style ships that were in common use could now be anchored far out to see during the severe storms which made the wall such a difficult task. After decades of hard labour of the prisoners at Trial Bay and the huge amount of funding, the gaol and the break wall ending up being an incredible waste. However, it would come to use some years later to intern a different kind of ‘troublemaker’…
The planned length of break wall
The eery and somehow inspiring mess that remains
The gaol and all the building remained relatively dormant for the next decade. When the outbreak of World War 1 came to Europe, the Australians panicked and the gaol came to quickly house a little over 500 men of German heritage. It was now a internment camp.
Since it was impossible to imprison all those of German descent in Australia, the men kept under close watch were academics, the teachers, craftsmen and religious leaders were declared as ‘enemy aliens’ of the Commonwealth. Going from first hand accounts they lived a fairly peaceful and easy going life at Trial Bay – especially considering the circumstances in other parts of the world. Having the Gaol so isolated from any real help or support however was a major concern for the Australian military. With German war ships occasionally looming off the east coast there was a chance of a possible attempted rescue by the Germans which the military didn’t want to risk. Six months before the end of The Great War, the men left the remoteness and beauty of Trial Bay and were moved to Holdsworthy army barracks in south-western Sydney.
Four years after the war, Trial Bay Gaol was completely stripped of everything that wasn’t bolted down, in addition to many things that were, in a move from the state to claim back as much money as they could from their losses. The old gaol remained empty and quiet for a few years until shorty after it became a popular destination for tourists. It became somewhat of a folly – most who visited it had absolutely no idea what this place ever was or why it was there. In the years to come it would be declared a public reserve, before being restored in the late 50’s. Now, it’s is still an amazingly beautiful campground and picnic spot. I highly recommend it as a great place to stop and spend a few nights.
“The venture of great expense and engineering hubris failing miserably’, I’m starting to discover, is a recurring theme in Australian history. The story of Trial Bay is unique but it echoes similarities to the story I wrote on the Charlotte Pass chairlift I completed recently. As sad as it might seem it is inevitable to have these failures. Without these kind of things attempted where on earth would civilisation be. All I know is that there probably wouldn’t be much to see from our past and that doesn’t sound like a future I want it to be.
The best thing about religion is that they built houses of prayer. Whatever the religion or country shrines, temples & churches were built to worship God or some kind of holy being. There is no doubting that they make the world a much more interesting place to travel.
I’m not a religious man, but you’ll occasionally find me making a b-line for the church when I’m out and about. Maybe it was the memories of going to mass with my Nanna one occasion when I was young… no it couldn’t of been that, I found it even duller than staring at a blown 40w bulb removed from the socket.
The best thing is about being denomination-less is that no matter the God, I can admire an appreciate the the building, the passion & the serenity for what it is. It’s worth going into every church you pass by on a regular basis, even once, no matter how busy your world is outside and regardless how you feel about your religion or lack of it.
In the first few hundred years of Australian (Christian) history our placing of churches around the country side was akin to the habits of the English, Scots, Welsh and the Irish of who were the vast majority of people attending them. Sometimes the churches can be very grand, like seen in major country towns and big cities. Sometimes, in country areas they are little bigger than little sandstone cottages. Sometimes a literally tin sheds.
The one in the photos I stumbled across while wandering Grafton, on the New South Wales north coast and is one of the greatest I’ve seen. It was reminiscent of some churches I saw in England, but it also had a uniquely Australian feel to it. The huge, ornate and medieval styled timber ceiling is the showpiece of what is possibly the most amazing use of the humble red house brick I have ever seen. Considering this, the external details are exquisite and I’m sure the locals are more than grateful for the radiant collection of stained glass windows that are dedicated to past residents and dotted around the church.
Like I always say, when in the area (Grafton in this instance), go and check it out for yourself as my camera and words will never give it the justice it deserves. If you get lost look for the dancing swans in the pond outside!
The 50s and 60s saw some of the bravest and craziest ventures in Australia’s history. The Snowy Hydro Scheme was spearheaded by a huge rush of new immigrants from Europe and is probably the most famous.
The new Australians bought their knowledge of mountains and engineering skills to help tunnel through them and build dams. They also brought their skis and had novel ideas for how to slide down the new slopes. Charlotte Pass became the beating heart of this new past-time.
The Chalet at Charlotte Pass had been there Since 1930 but it wasn’t yet a commercial enterprise. The treacherous conditions and transport to and from the village limited its ability to increase the number of guests. This was unarguably the appeal of the spot however more money had to be made to justify its existence.
The previous decade had seen a lot of progress at Perisher and Thredbo but none of them had a lift like the one that proposed to get quick and easy access to Charlotte Pass – the home of Australia’s best skiing.
In early 1963 the plan to build a five kilometres long chairlift, from the often snow-free Alpine Way, came to fruition. Capable of carrying 350 punters per hour and opening up an extra fifty square kilometres of ski-able terrain between the resort and the road. Add to this Australia’s highest, coldest and most remote restaurant (2057m) and there was little doubt of the success it would bring.
These ruins were as you see them here till some stage in the 90s when National Parks commissioned the military to use explosives & destroy as much of it as they could to minimise the visual impact.
After encountering several engineering issues with faulty pulley rubbers, cables and derailing it was tested and luckily passed a day before the start on the 1964 ski season. At the time many claimed it was the world’s longest lift at the time although, in reality, it was actually three separate systems placed end-to-end.
The winter of the opening year was like no other seen before and many wind and snow depth measurements taken from that year still stand beside the highest ever recorded. The highlight of 1964 was the infamous blizzard whose ferocity lasted for thirty-one days. The 180 km/h winds of this storm quickly highlighted the lifts biggest design flaw and the engineering marvel quickly turned into a disaster.
The top station restaurant in summer
The main reason for its failure was that the lifts were built directly across exposed east and west-facing slopes. The unfortunate fact (although pretty obvious) was that this slope received probably the wildest winds anywhere on the continent. This wind ended up blowing onto the semi-enclosed chairs which violently swung into towers and constantly derailed the haul rope.
There was so much snow in some spots that a channel needed to be cut for the chairs to pass through the huge drifts. It was a constant job that needed to be dug out by many hands, only to be filled again by another overnight snow-storm. On the odd occasion when the lift was running dozens of rescues ending up being carried out. Despite the myths, no one was ever seriously injured or killed.
The lift was built perpendicular and with little protection from the weather blowing off the Main Range was open to the full force of the ferocious winds. Even on a calm day, and a subtle wind, the direction of the lift would still make it too dangerous to justify running it. For this reason alone, it was far from an ideal location to run a reliable chairlift.
The chairs had to be fitted with special fibreglass protectors due to the length of time and the harshness of the elements on Rams Head Range.
During the storms, the staff in the restaurant could barely go outside either without getting themselves blown down the valley. Any brave guests who had somehow made it up were more or less on their own.
The weather was so extreme and they couldn’t have chosen a worse season to open up and test a lift of its type. Even if the lift had continued, any average season would still require it to have to face similar, albeit less consistent, conditions.
A worker takes a rest (probably after resetting the cable)
The chair went across the valley, past the old electrical huts & over the next ridge to Charlottes Pass
The chair was run for the following summer and then for the winter of 1965 which was notably better than the previous. Shortly afterwards the Kosciuszko Chalet went into receivership. Aside from the weather concerns, the new owners decided the leave the lift as the crew of 24 staff needed to run it was deemed not viable. The rest is history.
In summer the ruins of the lift are much more visible and parts of the cable still lay on the ground. The tower supports & old wheel assemblies can still be seen when you walk along the old lift line. The scale of the project was huge and the implementation involved an amazing amount of manpower.
Similarly to the Snowy Hydro scheme, I couldn’t imagine any project like this even being dreamt of in this modern age. The time this was built was Australia’s most industrious time. Back then it was easier to have (stubborn) courage and a greater vision when there were fewer shareholders and where failure didn’t always mean you hadn’t achieved anything.
Most of the old photos in this article were taken out of Rick Walkom’s amazing book“Skiing Off The Roof”which showcases the amazing history of Charlotte Pass Snow Resort. Others I took for myself.
Check out this rare clip with a small snippet of footage of the chairlift in operation.
Branded bricks. Boral Bricks?
This was the top station of the huge chairlift.
This was taken in the old basement of the restaurant
This engine was used for generating power
Most of the heaviest equipment has just been left.
The bull wheel at top-station
Borg Warner Australia
An old fuel tank for the generator
A complex frame support still remains… supportive.
As soon as stepped of the bus and into Oban I felt like I’d arrived somewhere comfortable. It wasn’t just the vast views of and the closeness of the Inner Herbrides but the rolling countryside and history the surrounded the quaint seaside town. When I was looking to move on from Inverary, yet another pretty spot nearby I couldn’t look past it & returned for a stint of six months. Scotland is in fact one big lump of absolute grandeur and beauty) It was very welcoming also, to find such rich Australian history, so far from home (compared to the rich Scottish immigrant history in Australia)
The next few months that followed brought to me a few strange and very welcome coincidence and it helped confirm to me as to why I felt so much at home here. It was a massive surprise to me after I found out that a distant relation of mine was born and grew up very close to Oban on the nearby Isle of Lismore (in the late 1700’s). I could literally see the Island from the front of the building I was staying in and only a half hour on the ferry.
Another day and some more research online saw me turn my attention to the Isle of Mull which had, believe it or not, a small patch of Australian government-owned land! Mull is only a short ferry trip from Oban and is known as “The gateway to the isles”. On it lies a man who some refer to as the ‘Father of Australia’, Governor Lachlan Macquarie.
Born in 1762, Macquarie became famous after his role a Governor of New South Wales in 1809. He carried on for a further 12 years and was known for being one of the more progressive early leaders who tried to promote Australia into a proud settlement rather than a backwater.
He is well known for initiating the exploration of huge areas of countryside in his time and committing Blaxland, Wentworth & Lawson to explore west over the Blue Mountains. This subsequently led to the order of developing Bathurst, Australia’s first inland city as he also appointed other explorers towards northern NSW and eventually into what is now southern Queensland. Another penal settlement, to later become known as Brisbane, was shortly initiated.
Despite many praises he also received more than his fair share of criticisms. At first he was branded as too autocratic and was always accused of wasting money and spending too much on military & government buildings. This may have been due to his rich and rewarded past in the military. One of the most well-known buildings that he commissioned, and a personal favourite of mine, is St. James Church near Hyde Park in Sydney. Originally it was planned to be a grand courthouse when half way through construction it was decided by higher powers that Macqaurie was being too careless. I was then finished as a church. If you ever see the church you will notice the lower half is very square, with columns and is quite unlike any other church.
St James Church, Sydney
Sydney’s street layout is for the most part, as Governor Macquarie planned and there are several other early buildings he saw to that still remain still remaining along, you guessed it, Macquarie St! In fact many place names not just in Sydney, but in greater New South Wales are named by or in honour of Gov. Maquarie or his wife, Elizabeth. Maquarie Park, Lake Macquarie, Port Maquarie and Macquarie Marshes are just to name a few. Elizabeth Bay, Elizabeth St., Mrs. Macquarie’s chair are some more.
After Gov. Macquarie had finished his time, he had been the longest serving Governor in the young Colony. His leadership was also a lesson for the motherland and rules were put into place for future governance to end the autocratic style of leadership that they had wanted at first. After his resignation he returned back to his Scottish homeland and passed away in 1824.
The site is inland between Gruelin & Salen
His remains lie in a humble mausoleum at the heart of the Isle of Mull (near Salen) and the surrounding grounds are proudly declared as owned by the Australian government. Situated in a peaceful glen it is quite off the beaten track and down yet another unbeaten on. The tomb is also in remembrance of his wife & children who would follow him in death some years later. Thankfully the site is maintained by Scottish Heritage.
I was so surprised when I heard of this resting place, seemingly in the middle of nowhere off Scotland’s west coast. A great man and story have ended with a fitting resting spot.
In addition to this story I stumbled across by chance I also find it quite surreal and have little doubt that my long lost relation, Dougald Mckellar, grew up on the Island next to Lachlan Macquarie’s. Dougald also became a navy soldier and came to Australia in 1814. Did they cross paths? Were they friends? I like the idea that heat least would have heard of this local-come-governor in the new colony of Australia. Who knows perhaps he even took inspiration from the fellow Hebridian’s success.
When most people, not from the area, think of Parramatta they probably think of the Eels Rugby League team and the Westfield’s shopping centre. I must admit, on the surface it seems like nothing special than a suburban hub but dig deeper and you’ll start seeing the signs of it’s rich history from the early colonial days.
The name Parramatta is a derivative from the Aboriginal name of the area, Burramatta, meaning “place of many eels”. Head down to the river and if your lucky enough you may get to see some of the huge beasts swimming about just below the murky waters surface.
Several years after the settlement of Sydney Cove, Parramatta was growing faster and had a higher population than the area we now know as The Rocks. The main reason for this shift out west was a sever lack of fresh drinking water for the expanding colony. The rocky outcrops and sandy soils made it difficult to find a reliable water source and left it a far from ideal place to grow crops. Limited success prompted a move out to the grassy plains and the brackish waters of Parramatta River. Many parks now in & around Parramatta are old colonial parks and ‘experimental’ farmlands.
Parramatta is home to some of Australia’s oldest buildings and early colonial history. Elizabeth Farm, the topic of this post, is Australia’s oldest farm. The home was built in 1793 for John Macarthur after he was granted initially 100 acres along the banks of the Parramatta river. His land size would be increased to almost 300 acres over the following years which included the current site of the Rosehill Racecourse. Macarthur must have been doing something right as his land holdings were increased even more over the following years to a total of about 1300 acres. His new grants were a little further afield in the areas know as Pennant & Seven Hills. He named his Parramatta farm after his wife and the farmstead survives as an interactive museum for anyone to explore the house and extensive gardens full of native plants.
Parramatta was the perfect place for John Macarthur to be. At the time he was the lieutenant for the New South Wales army Corps and so he needed to remain close to his regiment, housed nearby at the Parramatta Barracks. He went on to become Regimental Paymaster and later on promoted to chief Inspector of Public Works for the NSW government. It is no surprise that the man who had so much money & convict labour at his control ended up with one of the most useful farms in the city. The farm wasn’t a traditional venture but more of a testing facility for early farming techniques in Australia. It’s fruit orchards & gardens also brought it well deserved fame in the colony.
John Macarthur was a powerful voice in the colony and considering his role, was unsurprisingly described as being quite brash and arrogant. He had mixed relationships the early governors and any attempts at making friends politics were severely dented after a failed attempt to overthrow Governor Phillip King. Things got heated and it eventually led to Macarthur being challenged by the Lieutenant Governor, Colonel Paterson, to a duel. Paterson was injured and Macarthur was arrested by kings orders. He was sent to England for trial but was was acquitted due to the lack of witnesses present at the trial!
After witnessing the wool shortages while back in England he returned to Australia in 1804 with a vision of expanding Australia’s wool and export industry. Having arranged support and receiving official encouragement in London, he was then granted 5000 acres of land which he name “Camden”, in south west Sydney. He also received hundreds of Spanish sheep from the royal flock.
Despite his downfalls he was an incredibly smart & thrifty man and is now remembered as the father of the Australian wool industry. While there is no doubt that the wool industry would have developed in Australia regardless, it wouldn’t have happened no where near as efficiently as it had under Macarthurs control. He died in 1834.
Ladies having fun, ice skating at The Hotel Kosciuszko, Diggers Creek, 1910.
The original Kosciuszko Chalet 1930. The Chalet would later burn down twice before the current Chalet was built in 1939. The Chalet back in those days was a government owned enterprise & extremely hard to get a booking due to it’s popularity. People would end up sleeping in hallways, & common areas due to overcrowding.
Early over-snow transport was very slow and agricultural. For many years a similar method was used albeit with much newer and capable machinery and trailers.
Another over-snow option! Horses were used for carting rubbish and picking up supplies from further down the road.
Traffic chaos and confusion down near The Hotel Kosciuszko (now Sponars). I couldn’t imagine them getting very far in these old beauties. Note what seems to be a horse drawn plough in the foreground
The new Kosciuszko Chalet with Australia’s first successful ski lift in the foreground. Even in these days night skiing was a popular option. The floodlights used were leftover from the construction of the Harbour bridge! This photo was taken during the early 1940’s.
Anything goes at Charlotte’s! These poor women must be freezing without their gloves! This classic photo hangs in Arches, the Chalet’s restaurant and is a favourite of staff and guests alike.
Built in 1963 and ’64 this chairlift was supposed to answer the villages limited transport and brought people across the peaks from the Alpine Way near Thredbo. At the time when this chairlift was operating it was reported to be the longest in the world. It didn’t last long though due to the consistent and extreme conditions on Rams Head Range and poor design. It ran for just over a year in which included a summer & two winter seasons.
Welcome to the rooftop of Australia. The Main Range in Kosciuszko National Park is home to mainland Australia’s top ten highest peaks. Visitors used to be able to drive from Charlotte Pass to the base of Mt Kosciuszko until the sometime in the 70’s when the road was shut due to environmental concerns.
One of George Day’s famous summer rodeos behind the Kosciuszko Chalet. Hundreds of people would come up to watch the Legendary Chalet’s Manager show-off his horsemanship.
Bygone Australia 