Charles Darwin, part way through his five year voyage on the HMS Beagle, arrived in Sydney only 48 years after the First Fleet. Within a few days of his arrival, he was riding westwards to the new inland city of Bathurst, stopping around midday at an inn called Weatherboard.
It was located not far from my home, on the banks of Jamison Creek, and the area is now Wentworth Falls. Darwin detoured to see the already famous falls, and wrote much in his journal about the remarkable landscape through which he was travelling.
To commemorate the 200th anniversary of his birth, Cambridge University Press published an anniversary edition of Charles Darwin in Australia. It is a fascinating work, containing many facsimile exerpts of entries in his notebooks and journals, as well as drawings by such famous artists as Conrad Martens - a former shipmate of Darwin who had taken up residence in the colony of New South Wales.
Darwin's visit predates the existence of such technology as cameras, so the illustrations in the book are taken from paintings and drawings by artists such as Martens. Other artists are drawn upon to provide images of the scenery Darwin saw, as well as the plants and animals. One who is mentioned in the book is "the famous artist, John Gould" - another acquaintance of Darwin.
Yet, according to SLNSW Curator Margot Riley, Sydney Morning Herald, 2017-12-27, most of the illustrations in Gould's Birds of Australia were done by his wife, Elizabeth. Riley states that "Gould was not an artist" and that Elizabeth Gould's "exquisite work became almost totally eclipsed by the fame of her husband" - John designed the plates for his book, and carefully supervised their production, but the artwork was hers.
Elizabeth did the 84 plates while raising six children, and when she died, John Gould employed a number of artists and illustrators to fill her role in the production of his books. It seems somehow sad that brilliant artists like Elizabeth were so often consigned by cultural mores of their times to walk in the shadows.
Showing posts with label Wentworth Falls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wentworth Falls. Show all posts
Wednesday, 31 January 2018
Thursday, 25 January 2018
Sculpture by the Lake
When you are strolling through the parkland on the southern shore of Wentworth Falls Lake, you will pass a number of weather-greyed, curiously shaped sculptures. Some are low to the ground, and others stand tall - some are bulky, some slender or sinuous. All were once bright new pieces of sandstone, and images of them in that state can be found here.
Around twenty years ago, a team of sculptors set to work on those lumps of stone as they stood around the park. Under the eyes of the onlookers who passed through, and the picnickers who stopped for a while, the stones were transformed into representations of the seeds or seedpods of various trees, shrubs, and ferns that grew on the slopes around the lake.
16 artists each fashioned one sculpture according to their interpretation of the seed they had studied, and the results still intrigue visitors today. There is also a book that was published by Blue Mountains City Council, and compiled by Gabriella Hegyes that gives more details on the history of the project, and each of the artists - many of them being locals.
These are three of the sixteen sculptures that catch the eye of visitors to our beautiful lake - some of them are not as easy to find as they once were, for the trees and shrubs have grown over the decades.
They are there, though, and worth searching for - you need to move slowly and observantly, and in the process, you may find so much else of interest.
Juncus usitatus - Common Rush - by Nick Dorrer
Around twenty years ago, a team of sculptors set to work on those lumps of stone as they stood around the park. Under the eyes of the onlookers who passed through, and the picnickers who stopped for a while, the stones were transformed into representations of the seeds or seedpods of various trees, shrubs, and ferns that grew on the slopes around the lake.
Banksia serrata - Old Man Banksia - by Maija Collishaw
16 artists each fashioned one sculpture according to their interpretation of the seed they had studied, and the results still intrigue visitors today. There is also a book that was published by Blue Mountains City Council, and compiled by Gabriella Hegyes that gives more details on the history of the project, and each of the artists - many of them being locals.
Glleichenia dicarpa - Pouched Coral Fern - by Mary Anderson
These are three of the sixteen sculptures that catch the eye of visitors to our beautiful lake - some of them are not as easy to find as they once were, for the trees and shrubs have grown over the decades.
They are there, though, and worth searching for - you need to move slowly and observantly, and in the process, you may find so much else of interest.
Monday, 11 December 2017
Blink and you'll miss it.
Is it a lonely grave on a flower strewn hillside? It was, once, but the hillside has changed shape, as the railway line was pushed through, and the local roads were widened and built up.
The golden coreopsis flowers arrived after the trains, their seeds carried far and wide across NSW as the iron road pushed further out.
On the right hand side of this picture can be seen the abutments of an older bridge that carried Blaxland's Road across the tracks. It is significantly lower than the new bridge, which would have been built at the new, higher level required to allow the electrification of the Blue Mountains line.
The lonely headstone is in memory of James Fergusson, who was struck and killed by lightning 158 years ago, while settling cattle and horses into the yards near the Weatherboard Inn. Each year, close to the 21st of December, a group of people gather on the remains of the old road, opposite the site, to commemorate James and John, whose story is set out below by local historian Jon Low.
The following research by John Low has been published on the 'Simply Australia' website:
In the 19th century when you travelled the Western Road over the Blue Mountains you were in the bush. For over fifty years following its construction in 1814-15, the road was the conduit between the coastal settlement and the pasture lands of the west. It wound a precarious route along the top of a high ridge with deep, unexplored valleys on either side and its condition was subject to the vagaries of weather, heavy use and irregular maintenance. Travel by whatever means was fraught with difficulties, discomfort and sometimes danger as the sad little tale that follows illustrates.
While thousands journeyed across the Mountains in these early years, few chose to live here and minimal settlement took place until the railway arrived in 1867. Inns, military depots & convict stockades, tollhouses, camps and mounted police stations all hugged closely the edges of the road,while settlers, gold seekers, bullock and horse team drivers and all the restless human cargo of a growing colony drifted past.
Twenty-two year old James Fergusson, a carrier with a team of heavy horses, was a part of that incessant 19th century movement. In the early afternoon of 21st December 1859 he and another man, John Black, were among several teamsters setting up camp about 30 or 40 yards in front of the Weatherboard Inn. Christmas was only several days away and it's a safe bet they were looking forward to some merriment in the inn that evening. But, before they could enjoy themselves their horses had to be unharnessed, fed and watered and settled down for the night.
The story of what happened at the Weatherboard on that summer afternoon in 1859 was described in detail in The Empire, a popular Sydney newspaper of the time founded by Henry Parkes. Young Fergusson and his mate Black, it's journalist wrote, "had just unharnessed the horses, and were about to feed them, when a violent thunderstorm came on, and a flash of lightning of a most terrific character struck the two men, and the whole of the thirteen horses, killing both men and animals instantly. The lightning then passed through the inn without doing any further material damage. The bodies of the men and animals presented a most ghastly spectacle, the former turning almost black in a very short period."
Two other men were struck by "the electric fluid" but escaped serious injury, while several further members of the encampment and a number of horses were completely untouched. John Black, aged 28 and married with three young children, was interred in St. John's Burial Ground at Parramatta. James Fergusson, having no known relatives, was buried near the spot where he was killed. Perhaps it was his employer, Mr. R. Martin of Bowenfels, or maybe even his mates who paid for his burial and for his headstone and footstone, both clearly the work of a skilled tradesman. [Extract by John Low at http://simplyaustralia.net/article-jl-weatherboard.html, 17/08/2011]
Blaxland's Road is named after Gregory Blaxland, of the trio Blaxland, Lawson, and Wentworth, who set out from the Nepean River in 1813 to find a way for settlers to move cattle across the mountains from the Cumberland Plain to the open lands around Bathurst, and Wentworth Falls was named after, well, I'll leave you to guess.
Reference: https://www.bluemountainshaveyoursay.com.au/22793/documents/62795
The golden coreopsis flowers arrived after the trains, their seeds carried far and wide across NSW as the iron road pushed further out.
On the right hand side of this picture can be seen the abutments of an older bridge that carried Blaxland's Road across the tracks. It is significantly lower than the new bridge, which would have been built at the new, higher level required to allow the electrification of the Blue Mountains line.
Part of the crowd commemorating the 150th Anniversary of the arrival of the first train at Wentworth Falls (or Weatherboard, as it was known) held in July 2017
The plaque attached to the NW corner of the bridge that carries Blaxland's Road across the Main Western Line, just west of Wentworth Falls Station.
The lonely headstone is in memory of James Fergusson, who was struck and killed by lightning 158 years ago, while settling cattle and horses into the yards near the Weatherboard Inn. Each year, close to the 21st of December, a group of people gather on the remains of the old road, opposite the site, to commemorate James and John, whose story is set out below by local historian Jon Low.
The following research by John Low has been published on the 'Simply Australia' website:
In the 19th century when you travelled the Western Road over the Blue Mountains you were in the bush. For over fifty years following its construction in 1814-15, the road was the conduit between the coastal settlement and the pasture lands of the west. It wound a precarious route along the top of a high ridge with deep, unexplored valleys on either side and its condition was subject to the vagaries of weather, heavy use and irregular maintenance. Travel by whatever means was fraught with difficulties, discomfort and sometimes danger as the sad little tale that follows illustrates.
While thousands journeyed across the Mountains in these early years, few chose to live here and minimal settlement took place until the railway arrived in 1867. Inns, military depots & convict stockades, tollhouses, camps and mounted police stations all hugged closely the edges of the road,while settlers, gold seekers, bullock and horse team drivers and all the restless human cargo of a growing colony drifted past.
Twenty-two year old James Fergusson, a carrier with a team of heavy horses, was a part of that incessant 19th century movement. In the early afternoon of 21st December 1859 he and another man, John Black, were among several teamsters setting up camp about 30 or 40 yards in front of the Weatherboard Inn. Christmas was only several days away and it's a safe bet they were looking forward to some merriment in the inn that evening. But, before they could enjoy themselves their horses had to be unharnessed, fed and watered and settled down for the night.
The story of what happened at the Weatherboard on that summer afternoon in 1859 was described in detail in The Empire, a popular Sydney newspaper of the time founded by Henry Parkes. Young Fergusson and his mate Black, it's journalist wrote, "had just unharnessed the horses, and were about to feed them, when a violent thunderstorm came on, and a flash of lightning of a most terrific character struck the two men, and the whole of the thirteen horses, killing both men and animals instantly. The lightning then passed through the inn without doing any further material damage. The bodies of the men and animals presented a most ghastly spectacle, the former turning almost black in a very short period."
Two other men were struck by "the electric fluid" but escaped serious injury, while several further members of the encampment and a number of horses were completely untouched. John Black, aged 28 and married with three young children, was interred in St. John's Burial Ground at Parramatta. James Fergusson, having no known relatives, was buried near the spot where he was killed. Perhaps it was his employer, Mr. R. Martin of Bowenfels, or maybe even his mates who paid for his burial and for his headstone and footstone, both clearly the work of a skilled tradesman. [Extract by John Low at http://simplyaustralia.net/article-jl-weatherboard.html, 17/08/2011]
Blaxland's Road is named after Gregory Blaxland, of the trio Blaxland, Lawson, and Wentworth, who set out from the Nepean River in 1813 to find a way for settlers to move cattle across the mountains from the Cumberland Plain to the open lands around Bathurst, and Wentworth Falls was named after, well, I'll leave you to guess.
Reference: https://www.bluemountainshaveyoursay.com.au/22793/documents/62795
Tuesday, 5 December 2017
Cherax - Destructor, or Constructor?
Cherax Destructor - the common yabby of farm dams and creeks across a vast swathe of Australia, has made a home for itself in all sorts of odd places. It is not a native of the upper Blue Mountains, but has been here for quite a while. The grandkids and I have caught them on many occasions in Jamison Creek, beside the orchard, or in the Wentworth Falls Lake. Recently I found a number of small specimens inside the stomach of a Redfin Perch caught in the lake, and I am sure they are one of the reasons that the cormorants hang around the lake, as well.
It surprised me though, when I found it lurking in a tiny little rill that runs down the back of our place. I had seen an adult in there a while back, over 50 metres up from the main creek, and wondered if it was lost - and then the holes appeared in the banks of that miniature creek.
The debris from the excavation ended up strewn across the stream, just downstream. Heavy rain washed leaves into the pool that had formed, and when I cleared the blockage, yabbies only a few centimetres long scurried back into the hole. Within a day or two, the stream was blocked by another wall of sand and gravel.
I cleared it again, and again, and each time it was back within a night or two (cherax are prey to kookaburras, currawongs, foxes, and who knows what else - darkness is their friend) and each rebuild was bigger and better than the last. It took me a while to understand that this was no random construction - all the material excavated from the tunnel was neatly piled across the stream, forming a small lake around the tunnel entry. Not only that, but the water in the little pool above the dam was running through the tunnel and re-entering the stream about 750 mm downstream. Perfect for a female yabby nurturing eggs or babies.
At the beginning and end of the above video I focus on the point at which the water flows out of the downstream end of the tunnel and back into the stream. I have never seen a yabby do anything like this before, and wonder if anyone else has seen such behaviour.
It surprised me though, when I found it lurking in a tiny little rill that runs down the back of our place. I had seen an adult in there a while back, over 50 metres up from the main creek, and wondered if it was lost - and then the holes appeared in the banks of that miniature creek.
The first hole - angled down into the left hand bank of the stream, beneath the long blades of grass.
The debris from the excavation ended up strewn across the stream, just downstream. Heavy rain washed leaves into the pool that had formed, and when I cleared the blockage, yabbies only a few centimetres long scurried back into the hole. Within a day or two, the stream was blocked by another wall of sand and gravel.
Mixed in with the sand and mud was gravel up to 40mm in diameter - not bad work for a little creature that is often only 100 - 200 mm long itself
I cleared it again, and again, and each time it was back within a night or two (cherax are prey to kookaburras, currawongs, foxes, and who knows what else - darkness is their friend) and each rebuild was bigger and better than the last. It took me a while to understand that this was no random construction - all the material excavated from the tunnel was neatly piled across the stream, forming a small lake around the tunnel entry. Not only that, but the water in the little pool above the dam was running through the tunnel and re-entering the stream about 750 mm downstream. Perfect for a female yabby nurturing eggs or babies.
At the beginning and end of the above video I focus on the point at which the water flows out of the downstream end of the tunnel and back into the stream. I have never seen a yabby do anything like this before, and wonder if anyone else has seen such behaviour.
Friday, 17 November 2017
An Unintended Consequence of Steam Power.
In a country that is so often as dry as large swathes of Australia can be, a swimmable, fishable lake is a wonderful thing. I am fortunate to live only five minutes walk from such a place - the only one of its kind that is open to the public across the width of the Blue Mountains.
The wall of the dam is visible at the end of the leafy tunnel.
If you Google-Map-cruise along the Great Western Highway as it traverses the Blue Mountains - 60 kms from Lapstone to Mount Victoria - you will see a number of lakes wedged into the upper reaches of the valleys that cut across the great plateau. Only one - the Glenbrook Lagoon - is natural, the rest were constructed at various times during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries for water supply purposes. Several, including Woodford Lake, Wentworth Falls Lake, and another at Lawson that was later replaced by the public swimming pool, were built for the railway as it traversed the Mountains. The line reached the hamlet of Weatherboard (now Wentworth Falls) in 1867.
The dam across the upper reaches of Jamison Creek, Wentworth Falls, was brought into service in 1908 as a replacement for a smaller, unreliable reservoir on the north side of Lawson. Wentworth Falls Lake was intended as a reliable source of water for the steam locomotives on the Blue Mountains line, that were, at the time, the fastest and most reliable mode of transport from Sydney to the agricultural lands beyond the ranges. In the late eighties or early nineties, substantial work was done to the wall and spillway to improve the safety of the dam, and, in recent years, the local council has carried out improvements and additions to the picnic areas.
The 150th anniversary of the arrival of the railway at Wentworth Falls
The steam locomotives are almost gone from the Mountains line now, though occasional historical operations, mainly using the locomotives from the Valley Heights Rail Museum, still puff past the lake on their way to Katoomba or Mount Victoria, to the delight of the many locals and visitors who throng to the 10.5 hectare lake for picnics, kayaking, sailing, swimming, and fishing. A couple of times each year, the navies of the world also come to visit the lake. Do the visitors ever wonder at the way the level of the lake varies so little?
The lake sits in a basin that is fed by several small streams and some of those particular marvels of the Blue Mountains, the hanging swamp. Sometimes, in long dry spells, Jamison Creek downstream from the lake slows to a silent trickle, and the lake level drops by several centimetres, but those wonderful natural sponges that are formed by the hanging swamps continue their measured release of water into the streams, keeping the lake alive. In the same way, they provided the Darug people with water, food, and other resources, across the millenia, and made easier the westward journey of Blaxland, Lawson, and Wentworth, when they searched for a road to the western plains.
While the tourists frolic, and the locals seek relief from the heat, a great variety of life also thrives in the cool depths of the lake, or among the reeds and forest around its margins. Its surface is constantly disturbed by the ducks, water hens, fish, long necked turtles, and insects, that live there. Around its shores can be seen possums, wallabies, and a fascinating variety of reptiles and frogs - and there is almost always blossom to be seen, if you look carefully. If you can't see it, watch the honey-eaters and crimson rosellas - they know.
Further reading:
[PDF]Jamison Creek Catchment Floodplain Risk Management Study and Plan
www.bmcc.nsw.gov.au/download.cfm?f=13B3A74E-423B-CE58...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)