Koopa Memories

Tags

Bribie Island, Koopa, Moreton Bay

Marilyn Carr writes…

When I was six, maybe even younger, my father used to take me down to the lowest deck on the SS “Koopa” to watch the two stokers at work shovelling in the coal; we would also pause further along the passage-way at the half-door which allowed a small child, partly hoisted up by their father, to peer down into the gleaming engine room. The engine was painted red and green; the brass plaque that would have said when and where the S.S. “Koopa” was built truly shone. It must be fifty years since the “Koopa” last sailed across the Bay to Bribie – after stopping at Redcliffe jetty. I can remember a Thursday trip in 1950 or 1951 which would have been close to when it stopped running, but my earliest recollections go back to before its service elsewhere during the Second World War.

However, if I shut my eyes, in my imagination I can curl my hands around the varnished, curved railings still.

‘Koopa’ at Bribie Jetty 1920s (photo courtesy Ian Hall)

What wonderful stories that “old girl” could have told! May I share a couple of stories that come to mind? First, we were told an enormous groper was supposed to have its home under the shelf just where the “Koopa” berthed at Bribie. Legend had it that once some foolhardy soul did not heed advice and dived into the water off the “Koopa”. He went straight into the jaws of the waiting groper!

There were bottles of oysters that could be purchased by passengers from a little kiosk (which was painted black and sat between the two runways that led out to the wharf) as they returned to the Koopa after their three hours’ stay on Bribie. Three short toots signalled the vessels immediate departure back to Brisbane. Life on Bribie revolved around the arrival and departure four times a week of the “Koopa”. (I think there may also have been some night trips at one time.)

One has to be a little careful here, though the lady of this story was most respected by my family. She still, I believe, would have many relatives around Moreton Bay. The lady grew carnations which she would take to the “Koopa” for them to be sold in Brisbane. She had also been left by her former employer a motor car (possibly one of the very few cars – not trucks – on the island. One needs to think “Model T” now) and driving this car she would automobile (“drive” as a word seems inadequate and there were not really roads anyway) to the jetty all dressed up in flowing white wearing a large hat and carrying her big, big bunch of carnations.

Occasionally, on her return home could one say the warmth of the day would overcome her and she would stop for a little snore!

Just before the final journey of the “Koopa” to Bribie, Bribie’s Lady of the Carnations made her last trip as well. She had passed away and the captain of the “Koopa” had the task of the dispersal of her ashes from the “Koopa”’s deck. Now, I only heard this story but it goes like this: there was a sudden wind change at the critical moment of the dispersal ceremony. Bribie’s Lady of the Carnations did not return immediately to the Bay but to the “Koopa”’s decks! Her spirit furious, that was the end of the “Koopa”!

Marilyn Carr

July 2002

Reference: Peter Ludlow ‘Moreton Bay Letters’

Stories from Bribie Island – 1

Tags

Bribie Island, Bubonic Plague, Cormorant, Ian Fairweather, Moreton Bay

 

S.S.Cormorant (hulk at Bongaree)

Les Bax: 

‘I was on the fishing boat that towed the hulk of the ‘Cormorant’ to its final resting place on Bribie Island. The ‘Cormorant’ had been purchased by Bribie resident, George Sharp, with the object of using it to stop the erosion of Bongaree foreshore frontages. As planned we arrived at Bribie at 5:00pm at the top of the tide. Arrangements had been made to meet up with Council employees, who would help put the hull in place, but there was no sign of anyone from Council, after a short time, we decided to go ahead and beach the ‘Cormorant’ ourselves. We fitted ropes to the shore, attaching one to a tree and the fishing boat guided the hull into position. The ‘Cormorant’ rested on the bottom about half way up the beach. Billy Woods had been engaged for the following morning to blow a hole in the hull, ensuring it was stay where it was placed. He arrived as planned and assuming the hull was where the Council put it, proceeded to place the explosives in the hull and detonate them. The ‘Cormorant’ would remain exactly where me and my mate, Ron Duell, had beached her until 1990 when its remains were removed for safety reasons.’

Jim Ormiston:

‘I was four years old in 1919 and my family lived in Terrace Street, New Farm. It was just after WWI and Brisbane was in the grip of the Bubonic Plague. So bad was it that the authorities had a horse and wagon which used to go round the suburbs to collect the dead. It was reminiscent of the Black Plague in Europe centuries earlier.

‘One morning dad heard the wagon in the street outside our house and the call of “Bring out your dead.” When he looked out the window he saw four bodies from the house next door being loaded on the wagon. It was all he needed to make up his mind and he called to my mother, Elsie, to pack a port. Then our family caught the S.S. “Koopa” down to Bribie Island.

‘We had no money and nowhere to live, so we went up about a mile south of the jetty where the RSL Club now is. It was all bush then and dad had packed a small tomahawk in the port which he used to strip bark from the pine trees and build a little humpy for shelter. Fortunately food was plentiful. We’d put a lasso out with food to attract goannas, which we’d skin, fillet and cook. Or we would boil up a bucket of yabbies. Fish were also plentiful which we caught using bent pins on a line.’

Lisa West:

‘I visited Bribie’s reclusive artist, Ian Fairweather’s hut many times. If we happened to meet at the shops, I would have a cup of tea with him at Joe’s Jetty Café. Fairweather was then heavily involved with his translations of ancient Chinese novels, a task which required enormous concentration and perseverance.

‘So fine were his translations that the Buddhist Society of America, of which he was a member, honoured him by sending him an exquisite rectangular seal. Although Fairweather was not a man to receive honours gladly, But I remember that he was especially pleased with this seal, and the recognition of his Buddhist peers.

‘Best known of these translations was THE DRUNKEN BUDDHA, which had been accepted by University of Queensland Press for publication. Fairweather needed a typist and approached me to do the job for him. Although I couldn’t type myself, I did refer him to another resident of the island who proceeded with the task. However, as the work progressed the woman’s husband became alarmed with Fairweather’s accounts of the main character’s somewhat unorthodox personal habits and thought it best if his wife passed on the task to someone else. As Fairweather himself was a bit of a mystery to the other residents on Bribie, the typist’s husband was probably equating Fairweather’s habits with those of the drunken buddha!

‘Another typist was duly found.’

Ian Fairweather and hut (Photo courtesy Ron Powell)

References: Moreton Bay People – The Complete Collection

Stories from Moreton Island – 1

Tags

Aborigine, Moreton Bay, Sovereign, Uncle Bob

Dr Robert Anderson OAM (Uncle Bob):

‘In 1832, on the south end of Mulgumpin (Moreton Island) at dawn, surrounding a camp of Ngugi people on the banks of a fresh water lagoon, soldiers shot down as many as twenty people. Hidden in the bushes, Winyeeaba Murriaba a child of three at this time, was one of the survivors. Winyeeaba Murriaba and the remaining Ngugi were removed from Mulgumpin to Minjerribah (Stradbroke Island). Much later she was to become my Great Grandmother.’

The ‘Sovereign’ attempting to cross the South Passage bar in 1847

Winifred Davenport:

‘The Sovereign went to sea on the morning of 11 March 1847 and was wrecked on the bar of the South Passage within a mile and a half of the shore and almost in a direct line with the south end of Moreton Island. Only 10 of the 54 passengers and crew were saved. Both the pilot and his assistant were absent at the time.’

The Moreton Bay Courier:

‘The steamer had still another wave to encounter before getting over the bar; and at this critical juncture, the engineer called out to Captain Cape that the framing of the engines and part of the machinery had broken down…on descending from his post on the paddle-box, he examined them, and found that the frames of both engines were broken close under the plummer boxes, which were turned upside down … the ship … was drifting on the north spit. The engineer shortly afterwards let the steam off, by order of the Captain, to prevent the vessel from being blown up. The sea at this time was making breaches over her, and the rudder chains parted … As the vessel still drifted, the lar-board anchor was let go, the starboard one having been carried away from the parted in the swell … she continued to drag on the north spit. Previously … the sails were set to provide against the danger … but all to no purpose. The rollers now broke upon the devoted vessel with great violence, carrying away bulwarks and causing the wool and billets of wood to move violently about the decks, whereby three men were killed, while several more had their arms and legs broken, or otherwise disabled. The Captain then told the passengers that he saw no hopes of saving the vessel, as she was still dragging towards the spit. He had just ceased speaking when a tremendous sea broke over the ship, and swept washed away the fore hatches. Tarpaulins were then nailed over them, but they proved of no service …. The passengers were in the utmost consternation, they set up most piteous cries for help; some ran to the side, and in the agonies of despair, plunged into the sea … [Men] … worked for some time at the pumps which, however soon got choked up, and they then assisted in heaving overboard the remainder of the deck cargo … The doors of the companion were then opened, and the females came on deck together. The dreadful moment which was to determine the on, and every one saw in the countenance of his companion the vivid expression of his own feelings …. Mr. Stubbs, who appears to have maintained his presence of mind throughout, now cried out, ‘avoid the suction’: and jumped overboard. One dreadful shriek was heard, proceeding from one of the females in the forepart of the ship, as she took one roll, heeled over and sank, and then all was still. The struggle for life then commenced; some of the passengers clung to the wool bales, some to the portions of the wreck, while others, who had been disabled on board, soon sank to rise no more alive … Mr. Stubbs … saw breakers ahead proceeding from the bar, which appeared coming towards him like and foaming, and enough to appall the stoutest heart. How he got through them he does not recollect, for he saw nothing more until he reached the shoal water of the beach, which was about four miles from the spot where he left the vessel. He had just vigor enough remaining to get out of the reach of the breakers, when a native belonging to the pilot’s crew seized him by the waist, and supported him till his strength returned … Mr. Richards and neighbourhood, rendered every assistance in their power, and aided by a prisoner of the Crown, named William Rollings, a servant of the pilot, and the native crew, by the most arduous exertions succeeded in saving the lives of six more individuals, who, but for their assistance, must have perished in the surf.’

Peter Ludlow:

‘The loss of the Sovereign, with the loss of 45 lives, was a disaster that shook the foundations of the young pastoral and business community.25 More than any other single event, it led to vessels using the northern entrance to Moreton Bay rather than the South Passage.’

Tom Welsby:

‘The Aborigine, Toompani is said to have swam in the surf at the point and to have saved several passengers, with the assistance of his mates. The New South Wales Government gave him a brass plate on which I have read his actions anent the ‘Sovereign’, and for years that Government, and later on the Queensland Government kept him supplied with a first class boat, by which he was often enabled to make hauls of fish for either sale or for food amongst the inhabitants ashore.’

Stories from the Brisbane River – 2 (Thomas Welsby’s Home, ‘Amity’)

Tags

Amity, Moreton Bay, Welsby

Just upstream from the US Submarine Memorial at New Farm (see blog of 02.07.2016) is the former home of an early prominent Queenslander, Thomas Welsby. It’s easy to miss it nestling amongst its trees and the crowding apartment blocks on the riverbank.

Tom Welsby’s house viewed from the river

To anyone who is in any way familiar with Moreton Bay history, the name of Thomas Welsby is synonymous. Welsby loved history and sport. He was foundation honorary treasurer (1913), president (1936-37) and vice-president (1917-36, 1937-41) of the Historical Society of Queensland. He advocated that government subsidise the society to collect Queensland’s early records, and he bequeathed his large library to the society and his portrait hangs over the entrance. Welsby also wrote seven books about the history of the Moreton Bay region.

In 1882 Welsby had been manager and half-back for Queensland’s first intercolonial Rugby Union team which played in Sydney. He helped to revive the code in 1928, was a life member of the Queensland Rugby Union (president 1929-39) and donated the Welsby Cup. He was foundation secretary of the Brisbane Gymnasium in 1882, sponsored boxing matches and formed the Queensland Amateur Boxing and Wrestling Union in 1909. Welsby had a house at Amity on Stradbroke Island and was patron of the Amateur Fishing Society from 1916. He was also a founding member of the Royal Queensland Yacht Club in 1885, later being commodore in 1903-19.

Tom Welsby (centre) and fishing crew

Welsby married Margaret Gilchrist Kingston in February 1893. They had two daughters, a son, and a young Torres Strait Islands girl named Jane whom they had fostered. Their son died in 1902 aged two months, and Margaret died the following year from tuberculosis. Jane later became Welsby’s housekeeper and remained with him until his death in February 1941 at ‘Amity’.

‘Amity’ was constructed by Welsby just prior to his marriage, and for the rest of his life was his only Brisbane residence.

Welsby moved into the house in December 1892, and in February 1893 endured the disastrous flood which came within 8 inches of the verandah flooring. Welsby marked the height of the flood on the entrance stairs, and the marker still survives.

(Reference: Queensland Heritage Register)

Stories from Bulimba – 3

Tags

boatyard, Bulimba

Ron Peterson:

‘Just after the war, when I was 18, I began work at Rheems, but my real desire was to work on boats, so I obtained a Launchmaster’s Licence, and managed to get permission to leave Rheems.  It seems strange these days to have to seek permission to leave a job, but it was just after WWII and manpower was extremely short, especially in essential industries.

‘I began work on the ferry at Bulimba which ran from 4 pm until 9 am.  There were two shifts: 4 pm to 1 am, and 1 am to 9 am.  The “Hetherington”, a vehicular ferry, ran during the day.  During my shift, I ran a regular shuttle service until 2 am, after which time I’d tie up at Bulimba and do maintenance work on the boat.  Any prospective passengers on the north bank would have to ring a bell to attract my attention.  These were mainly Courier Mail shiftworkers and party goers.’

Reference: Moreton Bay People, The Complete Collection

Royal yacht Britannia’s welcome on Brisbane River 29 Sep 1982

Glenys Powell:

‘I’m a river rat from Bulimba. We were Reliance River Rangers and we sailed out of Watt’s boat building business next to the Apollo Ferry. We sailed in the sailing season and rescued little boys in the overturned moths. We had an old English-style sailing boat, clinker hulled, sixteen feet (4.8 metres) – a scream of a boat. We used to sail down to Bishop Island and back in it.

‘When Britannia came with Queen Elizabeth II, who was a Ranger in her day, we went to welcome her, along with a whole flotilla of small craft. Our ship put up a message in flags and someone on the Britannia’s bridge read it, quickly ran down and told the Queen, and she came around to our side of the ship so she could see our message, gave us a wave, and actually strung up a message in flags in reply to us.’

Reference: The Port of Brisbane, Its People and Its Personalities

Glenys Powell:

‘In the 1950s the Brisbane River was a wonderful river! We knew when the blue and black funnel ships came in that we’d get rain, and sure enough it would bucket down! Even the teachers would look out when it was raining and see the blue and black funnels moored across the river.

‘Flying boats used to land at what we called the old hockey fields.

‘For a kid coming from the coal mines at Ipswich, the river was a fascinating scene. All the ships coming in and turning. I remember the Himalaya – a large ship – turning in the river, and it just made it around in the limited space for a ship of its size.

‘I lived at the industrial end of Bulimba – there was some noise from the Cairncross Dockyard but it was aircraft that were noisiest. The people at Hamilton got a reduction in their rates because of it but we at Bulimba – just across the river – never got a bean.’

Reference: The Port of Brisbane, Its People and Its Personalities

Lyle White:

‘I grew up at Bulimba and was apprenticed as a boat builder at Milkraft in 1958. It was just about all timber boatbuilding then. We built a lot of fishing boats after World War II as there was a bountiful supply of prawns and fish.

‘Milkraft also built cruise boats and recreational boats. In any one year they’d make 15 or 20 timber boats, which were either sharpie (V) or carvel (round) hull designs. Most of the trawlers were sharpies, which were cheaper than the carvel type. The bigger cruise ships were carvels. By the time I got out of boat building in 1967 they were starting to find new materials to build with. Aluminium and fiberglass were just starting off. Until then, we had only used fiberglass to sheathe battery boxes and iceboxes rather than using metal, which would corrode.’

Reference: The Port of Brisbane, Its People and Its Personalities

Ken Brown (‘Brownie’):

‘I’ve always thought tugboats were the coolest looking boats. I really loved them because when they got a job they’d have to steam down from the Customs House and pick up the ship at the mouth of the river and bring it back up and were always making good way coming down the river.

‘When me and my buddies saw one coming down the Hawthorne Reach, we’d paddle our surfboards like crazy out onto the mud flat at Bulimba Point. As the tug came round the corner the stern wave would hit the mudbank, and because the tug was turning the corner it would tighten the wave up even more and we used to get waves up to three feet high. There would be three or four of them come off the stern of these tugs because of the amount of draught that they had. The first waves I ever rode as a surfer were at Bulimba Point!  That was how I satisfied my surfing lust when I wasn’t at the beach.

‘The other sad thing that’s missing now from the Brisbane River is the sailing. When everyone was coming home with spinnakers up, the Brisbane River was just fantastic. In the winter they played footy; in the summer, if they weren’t playing cricket they went sailing. Of course, the guys that had a bit of money had boats, but a lot were built under people’s houses. It was the workingman’s sport and there was a huge following, with spectator boats taking people out to watch it.

‘I think Brisbane lost part of its identity when the sailing clubs moved away from the river, and I really would love to see it again. If there’s anybody out there reading this that wants to do something really neat for Brisbane, work out a way to bring sailing back onto the river, and our river will come back to life again.’

Reference: The Port of Brisbane, Its People and Its Personalities

Don Campbell:

‘Although both my wife, Joan, and I were born in Toowoomba, we purchased a general store and news agency in Bulimba soon after our marriage. The store, Balmoral News, was initially situated at the old tram terminus, which is now the roundabout on the corner of Bulimba and Oxford Streets.

‘When we opened for business on 8 November 1959, there was no sealed footpath outside, and entering the shop required a high step up from the dirt pavement. To make entrance easier for our customers we quickly had a wooden platform build at the entrance. Soon after opening we discontinued the grocery side of the business, and expanded the newsagency side to include a Golden Casket agency, as well as selling stationery, books, and greeting cards. In those days, there used to be three caskets drawn per week, and our shop was allotted four books each of twenty tickets to sell. Each ticket sold for about $1. In our first year of operations the shop sold one first prize of $30,000 as well as numerous other prizes.

‘Being at the tram terminus, we had a lot of trammies with headaches coming in to the shop to buy a packet of Bex or a Vincents to take with an Indian Tonic or a Coke.

‘Joan and I were to ride the last tram on 13 April 1969, the date the Brisbane City Council ceased their tramway’s operation. We still have thei souvenir tickets from the ride.’

Reference: Don Campbell in conversation with Peter Ludlow 2014

Stories from Bulimba – 1

Tags

Aborigine, Bulimba

 

Bulimba House in 2015 (Photo courtesy Shiftchange)

Early Settlers

The native name of Bulimba was “Tugulawah” (heart shaped). The first European settler was David Cannon.McConnell who built Bulimba House in 1850 at the end of Bulimba Point. The house was built of grey freestone, obtained from the Black Ball Quarry – a site later occupied by Baynes Brothers, as a meat works known as Queensport. McConnell grew maize and oats as fodder for his cattle, which he imported for his pastoral holding he had taken up at Cressbrook.

McConnell had planned to make Bulimba his home, but found the climate unsuitable for his wife, who was in poor health. Donald Coutts then bought the Bulimba property, and after cultivating it for some years, cut some of it up into small blocks and auctioned them in 1864. When Coutts died the remaining property was sold to Thorpe Riding who cut it up into 4 ha and 5 ha farms that were sold and worked for many years.

The only practical way to Brisbane was by boat, and the Bulimba Ferry dates from 1864 and was operated by John Watson, a boat-builder by trade, who also built Fort Lytton near the mouth of the Brisbane River. He also built the Mercantile Wharf on the bank opposite his home at Bulimba.

The earliest settlers at Bulimba grew mainly vegetables and maize, but in 1856 bananas were planted, and by 1862 they became the principal crop. At about this time, sugar cane growing was introduced with the first sugar being crushed by the floating sugar mill named Walrus, which steamed along Bulimba Creek and later the Brisbane River. Later, with the introduction of steam powered crushing mills, the Walrus went out of existence as a sugar mill, but later became established as a distillery. Walrus Rum was well known in the late 1860s.

Later as the sugar industry expanded, more land was required for growing the cane, and the industry gradually transferred from the Bulimba area up along the Queensland coast.

Boat Builders

 As a young man, Norman Reginald Wright had spent some time with his parents on a mixed farm on Coochiemudlo Island in Moreton Bay. The venture proved to be unsuccessful and the family returned to Brisbane where Norman worked for the firm of Laycock-Littledykes. However, due to an accident, he suffered a hand wound and was unable to work for several weeks, and during this period he spent most of his time at the boat shed of John Hawkins Whereat at McConnell Street. It was here that he decided to enter the boat building business and applied successfully for a job with Whereat’ s. During his employment at Whereat’s Wright designed and built ‘out of cedar picked up in the mangroves on Peel Island and scraps’ the ten footer Commonwealth with which he won many sailing championships.

In the off season, fishing trips in George Crouch’s fishing boats to the sand hills on Moreton Island never failed to secure ample supplied of fish. (The Crouch Brothers, fishermen, arrived from Botany Bay early in 1865 and later bought land on the river bank at Bulimba).

In 1909 Norman Wright commenced business on his own account initially at Newstead. However a Brisbane City Council decision to resume the water frontage caused the removal to Bulimba.

With the outbreak of World War II, the Bulimba boatbuilding industry shifted to wartime construction and contributed all types of craft from small motorboats to coastal patrol boats, with the Fairmiles being the best known.

Just as Norman Wright owed a debt to John Whereat for his start in boatbuilding, so too did he pass on his skills to many other boatbuilders, initially to the likes of Jack McCleer, Roy Bliss, Charlie Crowley, the Tripconys, and Lance Watts, who in turn continued the tradition as the Bulimba boatbuilding industry continued to evolve to the present today.

Reference: Ludlow, Peter Moreton Bay People 2012

Stories From Bishop Island – 1

Tags

Bishop Island, Hercules, Moreton Bay

 

Hulk of the Hercules at the One Mile

Situated at the mouth of the Brisbane River, Bishop Island was formed in 1912 as spoil from the dredge “Hercules” during the cutting of a new shipping channel.  The island took its name from A.G.Bishop, Master of the “Hercules” for this operation. Bishop Island as such no longer exists, having been incorporated into the new Port of Brisbane terminal at Fisherman Island.

Ian Kennedy in his paper Captain A.F.G.Bishop 1857-1950 presented to the Wynnum Manly Historical Society in 2002:

“A total of 4,500,000 tons of material was dredged and the spoil from ‘Hercules’ was directed to a low mud bank on the southern side of the river mouth. This formed an island about two metres above the high water mark, about 17 hectares in area. At the time, the dredge master and his crew did not give much thought to their ‘Island’ appearing on an admiralty chart, and none to its eventual future as a pleasure resort…At first the ‘Island’ was referred to as ‘Hercules Bank’ and later as ‘Wreck Island’ but, in due course, was gazetted ‘Bishop Island’.” (4)

Charles Bateson/Jack Loney:

The ‘Hercules’ was a steel dredge of 895 tons. Built at Walker-on-Tyne, 1900. Lbd 230.5 x 39.3 x II ft. Dredged the Bar Cutting at the entrance to the Brisbane river and used the silt to form Bishop Island in Moreton bay where many vessel were scuttled. She herself lies scuttled between Dunwicch and Myora in Moreton Bay.

Bunny Dickson:

In 1954, Bonty Dickson purchased the wreck of the 250 foot ex Brisbane River dredge “Hercules”, and it was towed down and put on the One Mile.  He grew oysters on trays inside the hull (after first catching them on the bedsteads), and found they would grow much quicker inside the wreck.  However to fatten them up, he still had to put them out in the sun. (1)

References:

(1) Ludlow, Peter. Moreton Bay People-The Complete Collection. privately published, Stones Corner, 2000

(2) Ludlow, Peter. Moreton Bay Letters. privately published, Stones Corner, 2003

(3) Ludlow, Peter. Moreton Bay Reflections. privately published, Stones Corner, 2007

(4) Ludlow, Peter. The Port of Brisbane, Its People and Its Personalities, published by the Port of Brisbane Pty Ltd, 2013

Stories From Mud Island – 4

Tags

Moreton Bay, Mud Island, Peel Island, quarantine

an Iron Sailing Vessel 3 Masted barque similar to the ‘Ophelia’

In last week’s post ‘Stories From Mud Island – 3‘ I noted the death and burial on Mud Island of Elizabeth Roache, one of the ill fated passengers of the ‘Ophelia’. Now, a reader, John Hildyard, has kindly supplied an account of that 1875 voyage, as recorded in the diary of one of his ancestors, William Marlborough Davis. Here is an extract from that diary in which he recounts the arrival of the vessel in Moreton Bay, and of its subsequent quarantining at Peel Island:

Friday 13th August 1875.

I am glad to say we got into the bay last night, and about 8 o’clock we had fresh meat, bread and vegetables brought to us in a small steam cutter. After the cutter had discharged the provisions, it took us in tow as far as the Anchorage. This morning we had beef steak for breakfast and roast pork and potatoes for dinner. They came to us with the Government Doctor and Inspector police. They wanted to know how many deaths we had, and if there were any cases of fever on-board. Our Doctor replying in the affirmative, we were ordered to run the yellow flag up the mainmast, which is a signal for quarantine. We expect to go on an island, which is about 25 miles further on.

Saturday, 14 August.

The Inspector of Police came to us again this morning, he brought official orders for us to go into quarantine one Peel Island. I am sorry to say that we had another death this morning. A single girl died of consumption. The ships carpenter made a coffin for her and a boat’s crew took her to a small island and buried her. We had 16 deaths at sea and one here in the bay.

Sunday 15th August.

The Government tug came this morning and took us in tow Peel Island. When we had gone about 10 miles, we were stuck fast the three hours and 20 minutes; the tug at last succeeded in getting us off. As soon as we were in deep water, she left us at anchor. We passed the island of St Eleana (sic) this morning where all the convicts are sent from the colonies. They are employed in various ways, some on sugar plantations, others are taught to make tools, shoes, clothing etc.

Monday 16th August.

The tug took in tow early this morning and by 9 o’clock, we were lying off Peel Island. The single girls had orders to immediately get ready to disembark, the ships boats were lowered for that purpose.

Tuesday 17th August.

The married people are going off this morning, but they are loath to leave the ship to go onto an island, but of course they are bound to go. The doctor gave orders for the single men to get ready, and I can tell you in less than 10 minutes, they were all ready with their beds and baggage, waiting for the orders to man the boats. In about half an hour all single men passengers were clear of the ship. We had a very awkward place of landing, the shore was all rocks which we had to climb over as best we could. When we reached the island, our first orders were to fix tents, then we were numbered off, ten to each tent. The next orders were to go and get our boxes from the shore for fear they might get washed away. I think it is a piece of nonsense sending all the boxes ashore, some passengers have got as many as three and four heavy boxes containing tools furniture etc, which of course would do no more harm in the ship then her cargo. But orders have been given by the Queensland Government that all passengers luggage of whatever description, was to be taken to the island, so that the ship my have a proper cleaning. We took a short walk about the island just before dusk. It is very thick with bush, there are also a great many large birds and the shores are covered with shellfish different kinds.

Wednesday 18th August.

It was sometime last night before we could sleep owing to the mosquitoes, they were troublesome. Where I woke in the morning, I found myself covered from head to foot with mosquito bites; they raise great lumps on you and if scratched, swell times the size. Last night the cabin passengers set off some fireworks from the ship “Ophelia”, it had a nice effect and was answered with ringing cheers from the island.

Thursday 19th August.

While here, we are allowed a pound of mutton and a pound of flour or bread a day; when we get flour we make dampers, we mix the flour with water and then make a good wood fire, and put them in the ashes to bake.

Friday 20th August.

We all have orders to shift tents further into the bush. We get some nice fine days here, but very heavy dews at night. We get wet through walking through the high scrub.

Sunday 22nd August.

We had a raging fire through the woods yesterday (Saturday). It burned last night and is still burning. This morning the governor of the island offered a reward of 5 pounds to anyone that would give information that would lead to the conviction of the offender.

Monday 23rd August.

We hear this morning that the ship “Ophelia” has passed the quarantine inspection; this afternoon the government inspectors came to inspect the emigrants on the island, and we hear we are likely to go round to Brisbane tomorrow or the next day.

Tuesday 24th August.

This morning we had orders to get our boxes down to the beach.

Wednesday 25th August.

The time is here this morning and we have all orders to get ready to embark for Brisbane; we were not long in boarding the tug, the single girls went first, married people next and then single men. We went off to the tug in boats and weighed anchor about 12 o’clock. There have been several families left behind, they are too unwell to leave yet. We arrived in Brisbane by 5:30 PM. The single men had orders to get all the luggage out of the tug before they were allowed to go ashore. We arrived at the emigration Depot by about 6 PM, where we were served with tea, after which we were allowed to go out till 9 o’clock. There was very little to be seen by the time we got to town, all the shops being closed; they close here at dusk, we soon made our way back to the depot. A great many of our passengers were the worse for drink. The place was in an uproar and I can tell you it was very late before we got to sleep.

Thursday 26th of August.

We had a great many farmers down this morning to engage those emigrants who were willing to offer their services. Very nearly all the Irish emigrants were engaged, they took the first offer. There was no call for blacksmiths, all the carpenters were engaged at good wages. Smith work is very slack in Brisbane. I in company with several more of our passengers got a Government pass and took a train to Ipswich, where we arrived at about 7 PM. We went to the immigration depot for tea.

Friday 27th August.

This morning we went to look for employment. I went to the Government Railways works and got employment in the smith shop. It is the largest works in Queensland, the Railways works here are under the Queensland Government. We work eight hours a day or 48 hours per week. Commencing at 8 o’clock we work till one, then resume work at 2 o’clock and leave at a quarter to 6, with the exception of Saturdays, when we leave work at a quarter past 12.

The Case for a Peel Island Jetty

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Aborigine, jetty, Moreton Bay, Peel Island, Quandamooka

As a keen follower of Peel Island’s history for over 35 years, I was very interested in the Wynnum Herald article of 28 October 2015, which called for Government funding to construct a jetty on Peel Island once more. Ever since its western jetty had been condemned and finally demolished in the late 1990s, the cry has been going out for its replacement.

The former western jetty at Peel Island 1990

From 1989, while the jetty was still usable, tour operators brought many groups who showed intense interest the island’s history. Such groups included the Redland Shire Council’s History Week celebrations, the Leprosy Mission, the Lady Brisbane, bird watching groups, Queensland Naturalists Club, the Brisbane History Group, and the Coochiemudlo Island History Group. Most came to see the former leprosarium, which closed in 1959, but were also struck by Peel’s natural, and largely unspoilt, beauty.  So there is also a strong case for eco-tourism.

But as well as European history, Peel, or Teerk Roo Ra to its Indigenous people, has a rich Aboriginal history and culture. So I am gratified to see that Cameron Costello, Quandamooka Yoolooburrabee Aboriginal Corporation chief executive has joined in the chorus of people asking for Government investment to upgrade the island’s infrastructure, notably its jetty. Teerk Roo Ra could be a showplace for Aboriginal culture of National importance.

A precedent as a place of learning has already been set when ‘Churchie’ (Anglican Church Grammar School) leased some of the former Lazaret buildings for their camps from 1968 until it relinquished its lease in 1993.  With a new jetty, other groups could be involved – not just from schools, but also art, church, environmental, and social groups as well.

Jetty technology has developed markedly since the days of the old wooden goliath pictured above. Also the viaduct to the jetty is still intact, so a jetty could be built at reasonable cost. I wholeheartedly support a feasible study being carried out.

Peter Ludlow

Professional Historians Australia

http://www.moretonbayhistory.com

Peel Island Postscript

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Lazaret, Leprosy, Moreton Bay, Peel Island

‘Limosa’ at Platypus Bay, Peel Island. Stone jetty left and ‘Platypus’ hulk in rear of photo.

My recent visit to Peel Island was my first in several years, and certainly my first in more than 20 years where I had stayed for more than one night. After wading ashore from ‘Limosa’ through the cold winter water of Platypus Bay, the sandy beach still had that warm welcoming feeling that immediately made me feel back home. With perfect winter weather, this visit would prove to be a suitable postscript to my collected writings about the island’s history: ‘Peel Island History – A Personal Quest’.

Lazaret buildings, Peel Island. From left: former Matron’s quarters, Superintendent’s quarters, Recreation Hall, white male patients’ huts

At the former Lazaret (Leprosarium), nothing much has changed over the intervening years: the female bath house and some more male patient’s huts have been restored and painted. Inside the buildings, though, I was pleased to see that some of the internal furnishings had also been restored: a white female hut, the recreation hall, and the Catholic Church all give the visitor an idea of how the patients lived.

Interior white female patient’s hut, Peel Island Lazaret, showing restored furnishings

On Saturday, members of the Moreton Bay Trailer Boat Club came over for a tour and I was able to help out as a guide. For me, telling the stories of the patients’ daily lives provided the real flesh to the backdrop of the empty buildings. I haven’t guided a tour for some time now, but retelling the stories of Peel’s grim past, soon recaptured its emotional pull for me again.

Interior Rec hall, Peel Island Lazaret

It’s a shame that more tours cannot come to the island, but without a jetty to service the larger tour boats, groups must rely on their own transport. I would love to see the fine maintenance and restoration work done by the QPWS and Quandamooka used more by the public. One link to the outside community, though, has been established with the Cleveland Star of the Sea Church who helped restore the Catholic Church on Peel and who conduct quarterly services there. Other community groups – schools, art groups, Natural History groups etc – could also follow their example, and keep Peel Island, this gem of Moreton Bay, shining.

Interior Catholic church, Peel Island Lazaret