| Last Updated 16/11/2004 |
| Contact Peter Lyons at : gaffer.lyons@btinternet.com |
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Area Hon Secretary, Pauline Dilley 19 Keppell Mews R'ingham 6168 |
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Presidents report Welcome aboard for another great addition of the OGA newsletter! I'm sure it will be chock-a-block full of stories and information. As I mentioned at our AGM last month, a hearty three cheers must be given to Mike and Mary Igglesden and Fiona Hook for all heir hard work in putting this newsletter together. It is really an excellent production. Speaking of the AGM, I would like to welcome a new team onto the Board. Victor Peters has put his hand up as Vice President, Jeremy Stockley has filled the Treasurers role, and Pauline Dilley will be our Secretary. I look forward to working with our new officers. I am sure we will have a good year. I would like to thank Shirley Cook for all the work she has done over the past few years as our Secretary-Treasurer. She has done a fantastic job helping to keep our organisation going, and I am sure I speak for all of us in saying that her excellent work is greatly appreciated. Last but not least I would like to thank Jack Gardner for his extremely interesting contributions to this newsletter, as well as all the other people who have taken time to help make this publication so much fun to read. Now I, like you Gentle Reader, will put my feet up and enjoy yet another interesting read! |
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| Chris Bowman's latest Couta boat in progress in the 'C' Shed |
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Editorial HERITAGE A dictionary's perspective of a heritage is -----'what is or may be inherited'. I have recently been fortunate enough to have been spending time wallowing in some of the U.K. Maritime Museums. They are, as are museums world wide, incredible places. One clear, tangible, insight into the lives of my, and of course your, ancestors, has been brought to life by the discovery and display of a Bronze Age boat, a boat built around 3500 years ago, at a time when the Pyramid of Cheops at Giza had recently been completed and long before Tutankhamun became Pharaoh of Egypt. This 40-foot boat of multichine construction was discovered in 1992 during excavations for a storm water pump in the Market Square of my old hometown in Kent. The boat is displayed in one of the finest display galleries in the U.K. about 100 metres from where it had sunk in the Dour river which still wends it way through the place now known as Dover. The boat's construction is primitive when compared to its contemporaries then being built in the Mediterranean, but is a direct link to our heritage, boats being built, of basically similar design, some 3500 years later. Of the dozens of maritime museums scattered around the U.K. coast the Chatham Historic Dockyard is another extraordinary place. It was here that, for 400 years ships were built for the Royal Navy. One small section of the exhibition records the 130-year history of the Royal National Lifeboat Institution. Fifteen lifeboats, ranging from early examples of pulling and sailing boats through to the modern 'all weather' craft are on display. Later, when talking to the coxswain of the Dover Lifeboat he told me the Dover boat could achieve 20 knots in any weather, but the crew has to withstand a pretty torrid time in heavy conditions. She is designed to plough through rather than over, the waves. They must face some unimaginable situations. I mentioned to him that Arthur Lidden - a former Dover Lifeboat coxswain , had migrated to Western Australia in the mid 1970's and made a lot of money crayfishing. 'Sounds like that is better than fishing in the North Sea - No fish left.' Heritage destroyed. Another extraordinary museum is the Maritime Museum in Falmouth. If ever you have the remotest chance to visit this place make the effort to go. Definitely a must see. As is the National Maritime Museum at Greenwich. Our own Fremantle Museum, of course, feeds us with untold material from which we may trace our heritage. I believe we are so fortunate to be able to access so many examples of maritime past. History, Legacy, Heritage, whatever the label, forms an important moulding of our lives today. The Old Gaffers Association contributes a small thread in this fascinating 'tapestry of life'. The other thread of this tapestry has arrived in the shape of Fiona and Bruce's Conall. He may only be one month old but I'm sure he is already showing aptitude for his destiny as a keen Old Gaffer by at least becoming accustomed to enduring a wet bottom! Congratulations Fiona and Bruce. |
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Three Old Gaffers on the Blackwood-A Paddlers Story By Clive Jarman In early June 1998 three old gaffers, Wally Cook, Mike Igglesden and myself decided to explore the lower reaches of the Blackwood River. We headed south through wind and rain with Wally's Sprit Rigged Yawl, Karina, in tow on the trailer and my Kayak, Maid O Pligh, wedged into Karina's cabin and sticking out the back of the cockpit. We arrived safely at Molloy caravan park, on the banks of the Blackwood near Molloy Island, about 8 kms upstream from Augusta. We made camp then I launched Maid O Pligh and went for an evening paddle around Molloy Island where the Scott River joins the Blackwood. The weather had cleared, it was a lovely still and quiet evening, with the forrest reflections in the still water with the sunset. On my return Wally and Mike had the camp Kitchen set up ( nice guys ) and the three of us cooked tea and relaxed with a glass of Port before retiring from the evening chill, Wally and Mike to Karina on her trailer, and me to my tent. Wednesday 3rd. Day one, overcast and damp, destination Alexandra Bridge 14kms north. Porridged and packed camp, I stowed my gear in Maid's sealed compartments and launched. Wally and Mike launched Karina while a couple of locals' videoed the event. We set off into a light northerly so it was slow going in my laden Kayak. An hour later we arrived at Twinems Bend, 4kms from where we launched. There is a small beach here on the east bank, where the river widens. This area of the Blackwood is in the Scott National Park and is a popular picnic spot in summer. Today just three silly men standing in the rain; hands grasped around mugs of hot soup. We pressed on up river with the wind on the nose and occasional showers. The Blackwood becomes wide in places with the forest skirting both banks. Alexandra Bridge hove in site after a hard slog upstream and as we passed beneath it, a double rainbow appeared in the sky behind us. A little further we passed the old bridge site, which was washed away in floods some years before, and moored at the camping area. A nice quiet spot with Bar-B-Que sites and flushing toilets but no showers. The campsite is accessible by road from the Brockman Highway and there is a small launching ramp. We had the place to ourselves and we had not seen anyone else on the river all day. We made camp and Wally somehow managed to get a fire going with damp wood. The firewood that the shire had placed here was green, luckily Wally brought a small bag of firewood from home. The rain stopped for a while and we managed to cook tea before dark. Then the Ranger appeared and charged us Ten dollars fifty camping fees, he wrote 'Three Kayaks' on the receipt and disappeared as fast as he came. Thursday 4th. Day two, up at 6am, woken by heavy rain. Daylight slowly crept on and the sky looked menacing. We quickly made porridge before the rain started again. Mike showed us his 'Are we having fun yet?' badge, but decided to wait for the right moment before wearing it. Three fishermen arrived in their car towing a dinghy. They said they had driven down from Bunbury, 130kms to the north, through some very bad weather and it was headed our way, they then launched their boat, donned wet weather gear and headed down stream in search of Black Bream. We quickly packed camp before the weather struck and were soon back on the river heading north in wind and rain. Our next stop, Warner Glen 14kms upstream from Alexandra Bridge. The river becomes narrower with mostly farming country on the east bank, and the occasional homestead. The banks are steep and densely wooded with few places to land a kayak, which makes life uncomfortable after a few hours paddling. The wind was sometimes astern and sometimes abeam as we wound our way upstream keeping a keen eye for fallen logs. Karina under motor had me slowly lagging behind so they moored to a tree to wait for me to catch up. When I did I was handed a welcome cup of tea, but after a couple of mouthfuls it tasted revolting. Wally then realized he'd made the tea using river water; the Blackwood is tidal as far as Warner Glen. The wind was dead astern and strong, and we made Warner Glen bridge before long. I landed at a spot named Chapman Pool and scrambled ashore up a muddy bank to try to find the camping area. Down came the rain again, so heavy, that mud was cascading down the bank onto the deck of the kayak. No campsite. I gingerly slid my way back down the muddy precipice and back into the cockpit, while Mike and Wally stood by on Karina to see that I made it back into my boat. The temperature had fallen with the heavy rain and I was shivering as I paddled back out into the river. Under the bridge I carried on upstream looking for the camping area when a shout from behind made me stop and turn around. Karina was leaning and Wally was struggling with the rigging, her mast had struck the bridge! I felt helpless in my kayak and watched anxiously as they struggled to get her free. They eventually untangled her, and headed back down stream. Mike was wearing his ' Are we having fun yet?' badge. We soon found the campsite up a small creek on the western side of the river. I was glad to get out of my cold wet clothes and join the others on Karina for a mug of soup, which cheered us again. Warner Glen Camp is a quiet remote spot under large trees, but the site is not clearly indicated on the map. No one came to collect camping fees, and we had to put up with green firewood again. It was not a peaceful night however, with thunder storms and heavy rain. Wally and Mike discovered that Karina's Hatch cover was not entirely waterproof. Friday 5th. Day three. The heavy sky had lifted and the wind had swung south, it had also stopped raining. We were packed and away early, and Karina passed under Warner Glen Bridge without incident. Up stream from the bridge is wild small boating country and Maid O Pligh was in her element. I paddled for a couple of hours on the remote winding stretch of this very pretty part of the Blackwood, in glorious sunshine. Karina got as far as the first rock bar about five kilometres up stream from the bridge, when she bumped Wally decided it was far enough and they turned and headed back to await my return at a small beach on the west bank. When I met up with them we lunched and headed back downstream taking Maid in tow so as to get back to Alexandra Bridge before dark. It had been a lovely warm and sunny day with light breeze's but by evening it had turned cold. The Rangers wife arrived this time to collect our money, Wally complained about the green firewood, she explained that if they left dry wood the locals steal it. Logical! It was cosy in my tent as I slipped into my sleeping bag. Wally and Mike moored Karina under a large tree, and were rudely awaken in the night by a Possum jumping about on the cabin top Saturday 6th. Day four, showers again, wind had swung back to the north but was light. A quick breakfast and off down the river, back towards Augusta. Made good time with the tailwind, which was slowly picking up. Karina soon passed me and hoisted sail; we met up again at Twinems Bend and had an early lunch. By early afternoon we were back at Molloy Island Caravan Park. We hauled out Maid O Pligh and put her on the trailer, I changed into some dry clothes and joined Wally and Mike on Karina. The wind was blowing hard as Wally let go the lines, Karina swung away before he could step back on board and we left him stranded on the landing. We heard some, fortunately, muffled cries on the wind as we swung Karina around to collect our skipper. After passing the chain ferry that goes across to Molloy Island, we hoisted sail and ran the 8kms down the channel through Hardy Inlet to Augusta. Here the Blackwood River flows out into Flinders Bay, the south western corner of Australia at Cape Leeuwin. The waters here can be very rough as the two ocean currents, the Indian and the Southern, meet. Passing the town we furled sail and motored along the channel to the bar, and could see large breakers beyond. As we made our turn we were almost swept over the bar in the fast flowing current from the river, but Wally's seamanship prevailed and Karina nosed her way against the flow, to get back up the channel to the inlet. The wind was now hard on the nose and we were battling against it with the motor full on. The furled sprit rig was creating a lot of windage, so we moored at a nearby rickety jetty and after some anxious moments, lowered the mast. Motoring back up Hardy Inlet was easier with the mast down and we had an uneventful trip back to Molloy Island Caravan Park where Karina was hauled out onto her trailer. After a nice hot shower, we were in the camp kitchen cooking tea and toasting the Blackwood with a Cognac; it was a cold night. We had traveled over 80kms on the Blackwood in mostly wet and cold weather, but it was a wonderful trip. |
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