Well, my Porch friends: Pearl and I have been having a lot of fun since we last checked in here.
Luckily her visit coincided with me being able to take a bit of time to hit the road with her and really show her some of Victoria, the parts that tourists don’t usually get to see, as well as a few of the more well known places.
But I realise we’re overdue in sharing some of our travels here.
Now, when Pearl left the shores of America for her first trip overseas, I promised brother Randy
r redden
that not only would I take good care of her, but I wouldn’t forget that she’s a hillbilly gal, at heart.
Well, no fear of that Randy, my friend - us hillbillies are all over the world!
So continuing on from the last post, after our tasty lunch, Pearl and I went for a drive to one of the local forest parks, where I thought we could go for a walk and she could read some of the plaques describing the history of my area.
As we pulled into the park, Pearl expressed interest in the curious bird and animal species in Australia.
Here are a couple of
Sulphur Crested Cockatoos - seemingly regarding a sign with one of the local council by-laws on it, then indulging in a bit of civil disobedience!
As we strolled down a forest path, we came to this plaque:
Occasionally you will find a spot in a clearing in the forest, where one of those old settlers houses once stood, usually surrounded by some gnarled old fruit trees and old-school 19th century ornamental plants gone to seed, from the faded days of the British Empire. Most of the forest in this area is now a National Park.
It’s a strange, wistful kind of feeling to imagine what the life of the families who lived here from the 1890s onwards must have been like. They would of necessity have been tough, self reliant people. Having said that, some of the free selectors endured, and even thrived, but many ended up returning to the working class suburbs of what is now inner Melbourne.
I recall hearing an observation once that there is a kinship between Australia, the US and Canada because we all have a relatively recent pioneer heritage. The saying went on, that in many parts of Australia, we are maybe a generation closer to that heritage, than elsewhere.
The upper storeys of the forest here are dominated by the mighty Mountain Ash -
Eucalyptus Regnans - the tallest flowering tree in the world. Most of the trees you will see in these photos are actually second growth forest, only 100 or so years old.
This next plaque estimates the current Mountain Ash trees to be about 65 metres (213 feet) tall, but I daresay the trees would have gained another 5 metres (16 feet) at least, since that old sign was placed there.
The illustration from 1878 shows a crew of foresters at work, felling an old growth Mountain Ash tree with axes.
Interestingly, although Sheffield-made goods were the gold standard of pocket cutlery and chisels and planes; Australian woodsmen exclusively used American, and locally made axes. I think this reflects that English woodshaping tools were intended for a much more established lifestyle, where you probably worked milled or salvaged or coppiced timber, rather than having to fell giant trees, then limb them, and hew them with broadaxe and froe, from first growth forests. Later, the English Elwell axes from Wednesbury forge, and the Brades ‘Cockatoo’ axes became more common, but by that time, they were copying the classic 4 1/2 pounder US felling axe patterns.
Plumb axes were especially favoured here, and of course the famous Kelly ‘Tasmanian’ and ‘Dandenong’ patterns were also commonly in use.
This tall, dense, straight grained timber was naturally used for all sorts of things, but what it was especially prized for, was refitting sailing ships with replacement masts.
Often trade clippers would lose their masts on the way from Britain to Australia as they were battered by the fierce storms around the Cape of Good Hope, South Africa.
This area is where the jury rigged ships, eventually limping into Port Phillip Bay and Melbourne would have their new masts sourced from.
Many of the roads among these hills on the fringes of the east side of Melbourne, are unusually wide, considering they were once ‘game trails’ and walking paths of the ancient indigenous peoples of the area.
This is because they had to take large bullock teams dragging timber drays with the felled logs from the old growth forest to the flatlands out on the plain of the city of Melbourne.
One reporter at the start of the Gold Rush in 1852, counted 138 ships berthed in Port Phillip Bay, so this gives an idea of the bustling maritime traffic of the day. Many of these vessels had been abandoned, as the crew and officers alike ‘jumped ship’ and trekked out to the goldfields.
Indeed, this is how my mother’s side of my family came to be in Australia - we are apparently descended from a ship’s master out of Aberdeen, Scotland, who also ‘jumped ship’ in 1852, afflicted by the fever for gold, and the promise of a better life in the New World.
One of those characters who came to thrive in this area was an iron foundry worker named Tom Tregellas.
Every weekend, he would leave the industrial clamour of his job, and make the trek out of Melbourne by train and foot, and enjoy the solace of these forests.
He built a dwelling out of a huge hollowed out, fallen Mountain Ash log and would stay there, returning to his work on Monday morning.
He particularly loved and was fascinated by the shy and reclusive Superb Lyrebirds which have lived in these forests for at least 15 million years, according to the fossil record - natures most accomplished and masterful mimic, and a true wonder to listen to.
One of the early buses which ferried passengers from the end of the train line, up into these hills:
Of course, long before the first European naval explorers, whalers and settlers made landfall in Australia, the indigenous First Nations were here. The current estimation, based on archaeological evidence, is that humans have lived in this part of southern Australia for at least 40,000 years.
This plaque shows some of the other local animals and plants which sustained them.
The Wathaurong, Wurundjeri and Boonwarrung tribes all apparently shared access to these forests on Mt Dandenong as a place of abundant plant and animal resources.
As this plaque notes, this area was known as a ‘healing place’ and there are a number of springs which run with ‘sweetwater’ all year ‘round.
Here, Pearl and I head further away from the tourist spots, and off the beaten paths, as I show her one of these sacred springs, which is used by locals to this very day:
The spring runs into this small creek:
I know we have a few keen fishermen on the Porch, so I’ll confirm that yeah, there’s rainbow trout in these creeks!
This is where, after having travelled elsewhere for a while, I always stop by on my return.
I get out of the car and take deep lungfuls of the fern and eucalyptus scented air. I drink deeply from the spring, then fill a bottle and pour the water over my head in a travellers bush baptismal - washing away the dust of Far Off Other Places - and tell myself: ‘I’m Home’!
So, at the end of a long, hot day by now, I introduced Pearl to the Aussie answer to the punishing summer heat: our very own ‘sweetwater’ - a refreshing, freezing cold, locally brewed beer!
Next: Pearl and I trek into the heart of the ancient forest, as we search for a glimpse of the elusive
Superb Lyrebird.
Looking forward to the deep forests
What an adventure
