Moreton Island (Moorgumpin)

Moreton Bay Map

            Until the last ice age, indigenous peoples roamed the lands now occupied by Moreton Bay. After the ice age some 15,000 years ago, the sea levels began to rise and the coastline contracted. Sand was washed northwards from what is now New South Wales and formed the islands now known as Moreton and Stradbroke, thus enclosing the area of Moreton Bay.

            The indigenous people of Moreton Island (Moorgumpin) were known as the Nugui people. With the arrival of Europeans, a massacre by British soldiers in 1833 significantly reduced the Nugui’s numbers, and in 1847 their remaining people were transferred to Stradbroke Island.

Shipping

            When the Moreton Bay settlement was established on the Brisbane River in 1824, sailing ships began using the South Passage between Stradbroke and Moreton Islands.  This was to continue until the wreck of the Sovereign there in 1847. The wreck, with the loss of forty-five lives, was a disaster that shook the foundations of the young pastoral and business community.  More than any other single event, it led to vessels using the northern entrance to Moreton Bay rather than the South Passage.

            Although both entrances were then being used, the pilot station remained at Amity Point on Stradbroke Island, but pilots were made available for ships using either entrance. However, as the condition of the South Passage continued to deteriorate and more vessels used the North Passage, the Pilot Station at Amity was closed and officially moved to Moreton Island on August 1, 1848, first at Cowan Cowan and then at Bulwer. Tom Welsby notes, however, that working conditions for the pilots at Moreton were still laborious:

“A crow’s nest of ti-tree saplings was erected at Comboyuro Point to enable the lookout man to see vessels when they rounded North Point. He then had to walk about a mile to inform the pilot, and by the time he left the beach with his boat about an hour had been consumed. If it was fine weather and ebb tide, after two or three hours’ pulling (on the oars) he would reach the ship, and the boat would then return to the station.” 

            During 1856, with vessels now entering Moreton Bay via the north entrance between Bribie and Moreton Islands, the New South Wales Government erected the Cape Moreton lighthouse, a stone tower twenty-three metres high and 120 metres above sea level. This lighthouse, with its original lens, is still in use. The stone for the lighthouse and the light keepers’ cottages was quarried at first from the immediate neighbourhood of the works, but it was found to be of bad quality underneath the hard top and the remainder was obtained from a nearby hill. The lantern was of iron with 16 sides. The Government schooner Spitfire carried the lantern and many of the other items for the lighthouse from Brisbane to Moreton Island, landing them at the pilot station from whence they were transported overland to the site. Such an important and interesting event did the commencement of the operations of the new light prove to be that pleasure cruises to view the lighthouse were run on the steamer Breadalbane, taking about 100 passengers from Ipswich and Brisbane, music and dancing were enjoyed on board while in the river.

Cape Moreton Lighthouse (Photo courtesy Rebecca Heard)

            An early navigation family closely associated with Moreton Island was the Clohertys. Bruce Hazel provides the following details: ‘The Clohertys migrated to Australia from Galway in 1875 in the ship Corlic. Thomas Alfred Cloherty was born in 1857 and was the pilot Master for Moreton Bay in the late 1800’s. He was stationed at the Bulwer Lighthouse on Moreton Island. He married Mary Ann Evans about 1886 and they had 13 children while living at Bulwer on Moreton Island. His brother, William, also migrated on the ship Corlic in 1875. He was a signalman and light keeper from 1884 to 1910 at South Passage Moreton Island.

            The South Passage Light house location was eroded away and the settlement was relocated to Kooringal, which today is a very popular tourist resort. The stretch of water between Moreton Island and the Moreton banks at the south end of the island was originally named Cloherty’s Gutter after William Cloherty. It was later changed to Day’s Gutter after a prominent identity Frank Day. The south Passage lighthouse location was originally named Oolong, which is a Chinese tea.’    

Tangalooma

            In 1952 Whale Products P/L opened a whaling station at Tangalooma. Quotas averaging 600 per year were met until 1959 when world whale oil prices began to fall due to competition from vegetable oils.  The whaling station closed in 1962, and in 1963 the Tangalooma site was purchased by Greg Cavill and converted to a tourist resort. Today it continues as such with few reminders, save for the massive concrete flensing deck, of its former purpose.

            While the whaling station was in operation, sharks were attracted into Moreton Bay by the dead whale carcasses towed by the catchers to Tangalooma for processing.  With the sharks came the big game fishermen, most notably quiz personality Bob Dyer and his wife Dolly. At the start of the whaling season they would bring their game fishing boat, Tennessee II, up from Sydney. After much burleying the waters with whale meat and blood, Bob would try to catch the biggest shark that came in for a feed. In this way he was to claim many game fishing records at that time.

BOB DYER with a 2,162 lb (980 kg) white pointer shark

            But it wasn’t just the sharks that brought fishermen to Moreton Island. It had always been legendary for its fishing catches both from the ocean and bay sides of the island. Moreton was always a good place to get away from it all, and have a break from city life – for the poor and wealthy alike. Some who came for a break liked Moreton’s relaxed lifestyle so much that they decided to stay on. Pick of the squatters’ choices was North Point, where the Hospital Fishing Club set up residence. By the 1960s there had been sufficient public interest in Moreton Island for the Government to make allotments available for sale, and in 1963 the first land sales took place at Kooringal, near the island’s southern end.

(Extract from Peter Ludlow’s book ‘Moreton Bay People 2012’ (now out of print)

Bayside Reminiscences – Surfers Paradise – Nell Birt (nee Covill)

Bernard Elsey’s Beachcomber Hotel and pool – the scene of his popular pyjama parties

I was born in Manly in 1918 and apart from two short periods (Bribie in the thirties and Surfers Paradise in the early fifties) l lived most of my life in Brisbane until seven years ago, when I moved to North Stradbroke, where I now live.  Although I left Manly when I was two years old, I went back to visit over the next few years, and have fond memories of going to the oyster banks to have my fill of what is still my favourite food.  It was legal to take away as many oysters as you wished – provided they were shelled. We would eat our fill while there, and take more home in a billycan.  My aunt would then cook yummy oyster stew.

One of my earliest memories is of travelling to Southport in the mid-twenties.   The trip took several hours, and necessitated crossing two rivers, the Logan and the Coomera.  The crossings were made by barges, which carried eight cars.  As one load was filled, the next eight cars would move up and wait for the ferry to go across the river and back.   We children would play while we waited for our turn to cross, and I remember once falling from the back of our small utility and cutting my knee when we moved off unexpectedly.  (In fact, I still have the scar.)

At Surfers Paradise

Although Surfers Paradise is not really part of the Bay, I thought my impressions of this area in the late forties and early fifties may be of some interest. In the mid to late 1940s my husband bought a large parcel of land at Surfers Paradise. This comprised several hundred acres and reached from Ferny Avenue to the Nerang River, and from Narrow Neck to where River Drive curves towards the river.  We then proceeded to develop it, filling low-lying parts with truckload after truckload of sand, and then putting in roads and naming them (Cypress, Pine etc).  We gave the Council some land for a park around what was the Budd’s Beach area. Allotments were sold for ₤600 ($1200) – the mind boggles to think what they’d be worth today. My dad retired and he and my mother built a house on one of the allotments facing the river.  Dad loved fishing, and there were lots of fish in the river.  I remember his favourite was flathead. (Their modest house was torn down some years ago and replaced with a much larger one.)  We also owned land in Cavill Avenue and in Orchid Avenue, but unfortunately sold these immediately prior to the lifting in the early fifties of building restrictions, after which Surfers Paradise began to boom.

At the time, Surfers was at the verge of its popularity with people other than local Brisbane holidaymakers.  They were mostly from Melbourne, coming in winter to enjoy the sun and the beach. The development was noticeable in just the four or five years I lived there, particularly in Cavill Avenue, where we opened a Real Estate office.  The hotel was the venue for meals and entertainment – dancing to the music of Johnny Goldner was very popular.  Also, next door to the hotel beer garden was a two-storey building where ‘pyjama parties’ were held.  A Chinese restaurant was opened, and further down the highway the “Windjammer” – run by a Melbourne woman, Sophie Graves – was the venue for Sunday night entertainment. Johnny Goldner was pianist there also.  Towards the end of my stay in Surfers I remember going to South Stradbroke on one of the launch trips run by Bernard Elsey.  I also remember Keith Williams, who took up my husband’s suggestion and started a water ski business on the Nerang River (not long before his Hamilton Island days).

At Stradbroke Island

Going to Surfers now is like going to a different world from the one I knew.  I certainly would not like to live there now, though it’s fun to visit occasionally.  My interest now is in Stradbroke, which strangely enough I had not visited until I bought a house here seven years ago.  Although personally I know nothing of the early Straddie, I have read several books on its quite remarkable history.  Even in the past few years I have noticed that it is changing – the rise in land prices and the number of visitors denote that the island is becoming very popular.  I often sit at the Dunwich Bakery for morning coffee, and meet and converse with people from many parts of the world – I have met people from Denmark, Germany, England, Japan, Italy, Switzerland, even one from Alaska.  Very seldom do I meet anyone from the US.  It is all very interesting and I am enjoying spending my later years here on Straddie.

Nell Birt (nee Covill)

February 2009

(Extract from Peter Ludlow’s book ‘Moreton Bay People 2012’ (now out of print)

Bayside Reminiscences – Bribie – Nell Birt (nee Covill)

In 1930, due to my father’s ill health my family moved to Bribie Island, and took a lease on the kiosk on the ocean beach side.  I stayed in Brisbane to attend school, and for the first year saw my family only on school holidays, then for the next two years, I went to Bribie each weekend.  We travelled on the Koopa (and a couple of times on the Doomba).  After leaving Brisbane the vessel would call in at Redcliffe to pick up more passengers, then sail on to Bribie.  Music was provided for the passengers in the form of gramophone records, played on an old wind-up gramophone – mostly waltzes as I recall.  There were many other children in my situation – one of them being Dorothy Shirley, whose reflections are mentioned in Moreton Bay People – and the trip was never boring.

On arrival at Bribie I caught the bus (driven by Dorothy’s father, Bill Shirley) to the ocean side – the island is three miles wide at this point. (My younger brother, who was seven at the time, would ride his bike across to school at Bongaree each day).  Apart from the kiosk, which apparently had been shifted further from the beach due to erosion, and the lifesavers’ shed, the only other buildings were a few ‘weekenders’ built on a narrow dirt road leading from the kiosk north for a few hundred metres.  The kiosk itself was comprised of a shop, large dining room and kitchen, and living quarters, with a couple of bedrooms for boarders or over-nighters. After we left the island – around 1933 – the kiosk was later renovated as a guesthouse, and the lease taken over by Bill Shirley.     

In the shop we sold basic groceries, sweets and drinks, and in season Boronia wildflowers and Christmas Bells, which my elder brother would collect from inland.  We would serve hot fish dinners for visitors.  I recall the kitchen with its very large wood stove and enormous frying pans where my mother would cook the freshly caught fish.  Mr. Shirley would phone from the bay side to tell us how many people from the Koopa were coming across, though this wasn’t always an indication of how many of them would want dinner, some bringing their own picnic lunch.

We had a couple of cows, and there was always plenty of milk. Our dog – a Blue Heeler – was trained to round up the cows and bring them home when they strayed.  There was no refrigeration so the problem of keeping eggs fresh was overcome by placing them in a large tin filled with a viscous substance called, I believe, “waterglass’, which would keep the eggs from contact with the air. There was no wireless, but I remember my dad and brother making what they called a crystal set. We had a piano, and on the weekends the lifesavers would often come over and one or two would bring instruments and we would have a very enjoyable evening.

The ocean beach at Bribie Island

The beach was, of course, beautiful – broad and white and clean.  We sometimes went by truck on the beach as far north as the point where Bribie almost touches Caloundra.  Eugary (known as ‘pippies’ to southerners) were plentiful and could be collected just by feeling in the sand with your toes at the water’s edge.  As for fishing – when I look at the size of the whiting served and sold today, I can’t help thinking of the whiting of over 12 inch (30 cm.) length the men caught by throwing a line in the surf in front of the kiosk.  Worms were the most used bait, which my brother was very adept at catching.  Apparently, this is not an easy task but I enjoyed watching him.  He would carry what was called a “stink bag”, filled with old fish heads and such. This he would drag along the sand until a worm popped its head up.  Then instead of just pulling it out quickly, in which case it would break off, he ‘stroked’ it until it relaxed, when it could be pulled out easily.  This was quite an art!

After about three years my family moved back to Brisbane, and it was many years before I visited the island again.  However, while speaking of Bribie, I was interested in a mention in Moreton Bay People of Fairweather’s The Drunken Buddha, the fascinating book he translated from the Chinese, and illustrated with his paintings.  My daughter, Cyrelle, who was Production Manager at the UQ Press, designed the cover and layout of the book, and with publisher Frank Thompson visited Fairweather on Bribie.  Frank was amazed to see many of the paintings in the open, at the mercy of bird droppings etc.

‘The Drunken Buddha’ book cover

Nell Birt (nee Covill)

February 2009

Jack Wheeler’s Memories of Moreton Bay

At the September 2005 meeting of the Redcliffe Historical Society, I listened to the lecture by Peter Ludlow on Peel Island. It brought back memories to me of some of the Bay islands, when I was a very young boy, about seven or eight years old.  I was born in 1910, so this would have been around 1918.  By then, the Otter, the Government vessel, took supplies over to the three islands, St. Helena, which was the penal settlement; Peel Island, the lazaret; and to Stradbroke Island, at Dunwich, where there was a home for the elderly.

In those days you had to obtain a permit from the relevant department to travel on the Otter.  I think if you had relatives at Dunwich you could travel more often, but other people were limited to visiting there once a year.  I distinctly remember going there one day with my grandmother.  We sailed firstly to St Helena where a trolley was rolled out along the jetty by men who I take it were the ‘residents’.  The supplies were loaded onto this trolley.  Then we proceeded on to Peel Island where the same procedure was followed, the trolley perhaps rolled out by the healthier patients, or possibly staff.  Then the boat sailed on to Dunwich where I think we stayed for about two hours.  This gave you time to visit residents or walk around the area.  Then of course the Otter returned to Brisbane at North Quay.  I understand that it made this trip about twice a week.

The Otter at Dunwich Jetty (Photo courtesy Ossie Fischer)

It’s marvellous how listening to Peter’s lecture has revived my memories about these events.  Also, referring to old memories, I think it must have been in late 1914 or early 1915 that my father took me to Redcliffe. I would have been four or five.  I remember going there on the Koopa.  Now the Koopa, to us young boys, was the pride of the Brisbane River.  It had to be because it had two funnels, and any ship with two funnels was marvellous, you know!  I remember pulling in to the old Redcliffe Jetty, walking along this long jetty and coming to this house in the middle – I think we called it the halfway house – then stepping ashore at Redcliffe.  That was my first visit.

The second visit to this area was landing at Woody Point, on the Lucinda.  This boat used to bring the children of the State Schools there, for a picnic once a year.  Once again, I was with my grandmother.  We left Queen’s Wharf to sail down the Brisbane River, and then cross Bramble Bay to Woody Point.  We never came to Redcliffe for these picnics, just Woody Point.  I remember doing this trip a couple of times.  They were my early memories of Moreton Bay.

The Queensland Government’s vessel – Lucinda

My memories of Bribie Island were when the Brisbane Tug Company who owned the Koopa and the Beaver had a lease of the island.  There was a caretaker there, and little huts on the Passage side.  I remember staying there with my grandmother.  The huts were simple, one room, with beds, a wood stove and a sink.  There was no running water.  You had to use the pump at the caretaker’s house and carry the water in a kerosene tin back to your hut.  I think the rent was two shillings and sixpence (25 cents) a week.  That’s all there was at Bribie.  There was nothing over at the main beach.  We walked across, about three miles, on a sandy track.  I remember my mother and me doing this walk carrying drinking water in a billycan, which was always very warm on arrival!  There was only one vehicle on the island, which belonged to the caretaker, who was the only permanent resident.  It used to be amusing.  We’d sail to Bribie on the Koopa, which was equipped with a bar.  The people holidaying on the island would be waiting for us to tie up, then, as we went ashore, they would board the boat and enjoy the bar facilities.  This procedure was reversed when we were about to leave in the afternoon.  In later years, when people came to live on Bribie, a bowling club was formed.  In those days, Brisbane had no hotels open on a Sunday.  The bowling club had a liquor license, but could sell alcohol to members only.  This resulted in many Brisbane people joining the club, which was reputed to have the largest membership of any bowling club in Queensland!

The old Koopa kept on running, year after year.  Then the Second World War broke out in 1939. I was in the Navy, and I came across the Koopa at anchor in Milne Bay in New Guinea.  She was the mother ship to the Fairmile class of small Australian patrol boats.  I never heard of her after that, and don’t know what happened to her – whether she lies somewhere still or has been broken up for razor blades.

The Koopa (photo courtesy Yvonne D’Arcy)

Later when I was about fourteen, I sailed the bay with my family and friends.  I remember that we always skirted around Peel Island, afraid that we might get washed up there.  Then we sailed on to Dunwich, where we would get lovely fresh bread and stores.  We would travel down the Canaipa Passage, on to the Broadwater and Southport, where we anchored.  Altogether we spent a lovely two weeks around the southern part of the bay.  We lived on the boat, but went ashore for events such as the New Year’s Eve festivities at Southport.  Unlike some events today, with young people running wild, these were orderly yet enjoyable occasions. In those days, too, the waters were quiet, not crowded with the shipping that there is today.  There were no ‘tinnies’ with outboard motors, no jet-skis.  The Bay was peaceful as you sailed across, and plenty of fish for dinner!

Anyway, these are memories I like to think back on, and when you hear a lecture, someone else talking about these items, it brings back more recollections.  So to have people such as Peter Ludlow revive these memories for me is indeed a real pleasure.

Jack Wheeler

Redcliffe Historical Society

September 2005

Editor: Like my lecture to the Redcliffe Historical Society, I hope this blog will invoke many such memories of our Moreton Bay for you, my reader. But if you have none to invoke, then I hope my words will stimulate you go down to the bay and collect some of your own.

(Extract from Peter Ludlow’s book ‘Moreton Bay People 2012’ (now out of print)