Darling Harbour wharves

Taken from Pyrmont Bridge, about midday today, facing slightly NW. On the right there are the looming towers of Barangaroo, and right foreground is the Sydney Acquarium, on the site of the original Market Street Wharf, commissioned by Governor Macquarie in 1811. On the left is the National Maritime Museum, and a smidge of the renovated wharves of the old industrialised Pyrmont. Way in the background, is the "north shore" with the towers of Chatswood just visible.

The "Phoenix" hulk

Phoenix Hulk moored at entrance to Billy Blue's Bay [Lavender Bay] : Robert Russell c. 1837 Sketch courtesy of the National Library of Australia, Canberra

In all its years as a penal colony, 1788 to 1840, there was only ever one hulk moored in Sydney's harbour, that of the "Phoenix", which was hove to in the triangulation of Dawes Point, Lavender Bay, and Goat Island, between 1825 and 1837. Governors Brisbane, Darling, and Bourke found it furthered their aims: the presence of the hulk flashed a warning to recalcitrant convicts; the hulk took the pressure off the overflowing gaol at Circular Quay (Sydney Gaol); and, the 260 felons on board were an easily deployed iron' gang for use on either Goat Island, or the rutted tracks throughout the burgeoning township.

Standing on Dawes Point, hanging over the railing of Pier One, here is the triangulated area nearly 200 years later. Imagine the "Captain Cook Cruises" vessel as the "Phoenix", being close enough to "X" marks the spot. To the left of the image, Goat Island sneaks its nose in, to the left of the fuel barge.

The fuel barge continues to chugg down the waterways of the harbour, and exit right. Leaving Goat Island centre stage. The evidence of the relationship between the island and the hulk, is scattered every-which-where on the island, together with the fingerprints of Governor Richard Bourke.

A pivot on my heels, together with a few dollysteps, and my Dawes Point location becomes apparent. Below are two annotated images to help you orient yourself. Both images, courtesy of The Graeme Andrews Collection at the National Maritime Museum.

At arms' length

Being in the thick of a crowded urban streetscape is a joy: such a visual feast, such a cachophony, such an assault upon all senses. However, they say you only know happiness, real happiness, when you have experienced its polar opposite. Could it perhaps also be true, that you only fully appreciate the hurly burly of a city, when you can experience it from a short distance, at arms' length.

Come sit with me a while down on the pier beside the tall ship 'James Craig'. On your way down, grab a coffee and a warm plain croissant from 'Yots' at the Maritime Museum. That's it. Lean back against a bollard, and take a deep draught. Listen to the sound of my city with the mute button on.

This is my contribution to the Skywatch Friday Community.

Painting flesh on the bones

The complexity that was master cartographer, Matthew Flinders, was brought flagrantly to life on Sunday afternoon at the National Maritime Museum, when Robert Clancy (professor, physician, and map tragic), Paul Brunton (Curator at Mitchell Library, bon vivant and generally good bloke), and Miriam Estersen (biographer) were let loose with the bones.

Hard to convey what FUN this seminar was. The packed theatre resounded with gales of laughter. This museum and its event calendar has a special place in my heart.

To my immense delight, I met Judy who has about 90 letters from her aunt who nursed in India during WW1 and is interested in transcribing and preserving them. Right up my alley way!

Sea Fever

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by, And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking, And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking. I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

John Masefield

Put him in a long boat

What would a gathering of old salts be without a cacophony of sea-shanties to pipe them aboard?

Festival of wooden boats

Heave ho, me hearties! Didn't it blow on Saturday. And the wind was straight off the Antarctic. But the passion she was warm and flowing. And the wind-blasted men and their lanky offspring were full of enthusiasm. An the red wine was aged and mellow, and the fries long and lanky also and dipped in red sauce. Ah, to sit quay-side and watch a gaggle of giddy youth construct flimsy wooden rowboats (for want of a better word). Struggling across the Pyrmont Bridge (which I experienced opening!! in both directions) to the National Maritime Museum at Darling Harbour was well worth it.

The age of steam lives again

The day dawned wet and miserable, as a major 'adverse weather event' swept across the south-east corner of our country inundating farms, villages and towns and sweeping all before it. All except the 45 hardy souls who were determined to relive the grand days of steam upon the harbour, in a journey aboard the sea-going steam tug, 'Waratah'.


Built at Cockatoo Island in 1902 as the 'Burunda', her role was to tow dredges between the major ports of the NSW coast. She was given a NSW name, 'Waratah', at the end of WW1 and in 1948, due to her age and condition, was restricted to the port of Newcastle.


In 1968 the government announced that she was uneconomical and was to be scrapped. The Sydney Heritage Fleet girded its loins for a battle. They bought her for 600 pounds.


After extensive restoration, involving a multitude of volunteer hours, the 'Waratah' steamed again in 1981 and in 1993 was granted permission to carry 49 passengers.

As we steamed from Roselle Bay up to the Concord Bridge, we were the centre of attention from other vessels and those walking the grey foreshores. With the peculiar stench of cinders and oil in my nostrils, I lived again the age of steam!



A member of the My World Tuesday community.

Thar she blows!

Th 1902 seagoing steam tug 'Waratah' blows her horn when passing under the Gladesville Bridge.

A member of The Weekend in Black and White community.

Harbour Islands (5) - Spectacle Island

There are 9 islands in Sydney Harbour: Shark, Clark, Garden, Fort Dennison. Goat, Cockatoo, Spectacle, Snapper and Rodd. Thus far, I have blogged on Shark Island, Goat Island, Garden Island and Cockatoo Island. Recently, I accompanied 60 intrepid salts from the Maritime Museum out to Spectacle Island.

Spectacle Island lies between Cockatoo Island and the Birkenhead Point peninsular on the western side of the Harbour Bridge. Controlled by the Navy, it is not open to the general public and tours are rare occurrences. It is used for training courses for naval tactical response groups and to house the Naval Heritage Collection, which collects and stores naval items for display at Garden Island and travelling exhibitions around the nation.


Originally two small islands connected by a tidal isthmus -hence its name - the first building on Spectacle Island was a convict-built powder magazine completed in 1865, designed to take some of the pressure off Goat Island. The chief engineer was George Barney who also constructed Victoria Barracks, Circular Quay and Fort Denison as well as the moat on Goat Island. The magazine, seen here, was constructed of rock from the island as well as from nearby Cockatoo Island during the construction of its Fitzroy Dock.


Commander Shane Moore, who live on the island, was our guide through the heritage collection. His knowledge is deep and it is personal. He knows the origin of every item in his massive collection, that ranges from Spanish canons, through ships bells, naval uniforms (including buttons), ships insignia and regulation eating utensils.


The two hour tour is not long enough to do this remarkable island justice. The group from the Maritime Museum was gobsmacked at every turn. We saw the ship's compass from the German cruiser, Emden, destroyed off the Cocos Islands in 1914. There is Mawson's sled from his Antarctic expeditions.

A truly remarkable collection stored on this island in the harbour that most Sydney-siders do not know exists.