Hobart trains

This leads on from the subject of the last post. I am fascinated with what it was like in Tasmania just before and after I was born. These are times that I can't or don't remember, but which aren't all that different in many ways to now.

I have mined the Tasmanian Archives for photos, and now I have found another great source, https://www.westonlangford.com. Mr Langford took photos, mostly of trains and bridges and other infrastructure, but also landscapes and of tourist attractions, between 1960 and his death in 2014. This site has over 38,000 of his photos taken in every state and also overseas.

from https://www.westonlangford.com/media/photos/103103.jpg
Commuter train north from Hobart passing the Royal Hobart Regatta grandstand,
24 May 1963

The beauty of the train pics is that suburban train services stopped in Hobart in 1978, eight years before I came here to live. In a short time the central rail terminus was demolished and tracks began to rot. So to find these pics with familiar and recognisable places still populated with trains is wonderful and strange.

The pic below with the little red and cream train particularly grabbed me. That bridge is still there spanning the Brooker Highway, and I had no idea it was a rail bridge. 

or that a line ever ran in that direction. This train is taking workers to the Zincworks, early one morning in 1965. I only recently spotted on an satellite photo that a line must have run in that direction.

https://www.westonlangford.com/media/photos/105398.jpg
7:10am passenger train from Derwent Park to Zincworks at Risdon
10 January 1965

Same spot last week.

I am honestly NOT a train nut although I can see why people are captivated by them. But it's true I am obsessed enough with these 1960s images to have made these 2 animations yesterday.

Guns, Boots, Money

Look at this mad old shop from olden days Hobart. GUNS BOOTS MONEY.

It's on the corner of Bathurst and Murray Streets. Looks like a country town.

The same spot today (well, last week).
The Playhouse Theatre at far left is just about the only survivor visible.
St David's Cathedral at far right of the middle pic is still there but obscured.

A pool of drool

The crime scene: Hattie's dinner dish.

I had been out for a while, and came in busting to go to the toilet. Animals were going nuts, so I put off relieving myself to feed them; Winston outside, Hattie inside. Hattie often nibbles half or less of her meat and bikkies then wanders off.

A few minutes later from inside the bathroom I heard alarmed miaows. I came out, to see Winston walking through the house trailing a huge rope of drool (we have timber floors, its OK). Hattie was by the door, giving periodic loud aggrieved miaows.

An astonishingly large pool of drool surrounded the cat dish. My forensic recreation of the scene is this.

• Hattie nibbled half her meat then wandered off. But not far.
• Winston ate his dinner and edged past Hattie, who terrifies him, and came inside.
• Winston noticed the uneaten meat and thought about doing a bad thing.
• Winston came closer to the dish and watched Hattie intently while thinking about doing the bad thing. He stayed there long enough to drool about a litre of drool. Hattie is quite deaf and was busy washing her paws, with her back to the house.
• Winston did the bad thing.
• Hattie finally noticed and raised the alarm.

I asked Winston straight out: did you eat Hattie's meat? He looked very guilty indeed. The burden of proof in criminal cases is high; I have reluctantly decided to drop the prosecution due to lack of firm evidence. But I am privately urging Hattie to sue.

Another letter to The Mercury

I have not yet learned to just skip Charles Woolley's column. The last one featured what feels to my ear like a made up quote and it lit my blue touch-paper.

- - - | - - - 

In his column in Tas Weekend 10/11/18 Charles Woolley admiringly quotes Norfolk Bay anti-fish-farm activist Mark Duncan saying “Mate I’m not a bloody greenie tree-hugging feral. I’m just a knockabout bloke … protecting my patch. I’m a local”. Woolley goes on to disparage the Greens as a voting option for people like Mr Duncan.

Many environmentalists trace their commitment back to some trigger event close to home that affected them and their neighbourhood personally. After this, their empathy for other people and other habitats led them to get involved in wider issues while continuing to advocate for their own patch. This is expressed in the slogan ‘Think Globally, Act Locally’

Whether Mr Duncan likes it or not, he is an environmental activist. He may one day develop empathy and start to care about issues not directly affecting his patch and his business. He may not. Either way, he might get more boats joining his flotilla if he stops bagging people with a genuine passion for Tasmania’s environment. If only knockabout blokes with shacks or businesses in Norfolk Bay are allowed in his group it might struggle.

At least he got a good promotional piece for his fishing charter business out of Charles, although he forgot to include the phone number.

Chris Rees

South Hobart

Launceston

Launceston is a surprisingly interesting place. It had the first electric municipal streetlights in the Southern hemisphere (1895). And the first underground sewer system in Australia – which is still working today. It's got a great range of architectural styles, especially from the 1890s when Hobart was in a depression, but Launceston was riding on Melbourne's coat-tails. Then there's this Gas Board building (a retort I think) from 1930.

A lot of suburbs are low-lying, and they regularly flood. The floods of 1929 were very serious (22 dead) and the photos of it are remarkable. 

And that brings me to what I came here to talk about. One of Australia's great footy grounds, York Park is by the river in Invermay. Across the river is undeveloped floodplain. Heaps of it. So when you look at an aerial photo (this has east at the top), there is nothing, nothing, nothing, fields, the river, a quarry, fields, a road, fields, nothing, the river again, then BAM an established AFL venue. It's odd, no?

At the PO in 2018

I just sent off Jacki's birthday present at the local PO. It has always been staffed by the older age bracket of postal clerk – the youngest is over 55 and seems… grim. Next door to the PO is Hobart's largest elder care facility. 

 I formed a 1-man queue behind a nice old gentleman who was withdrawing $500. As I waited I heard the familiar skipping snare sound at the start of Blister In The Sun by the Violent Femmes on the radio. 

When I'm out walking I strut my stuff
And I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite I just might stop to check you out… 

OK now you'll need your pin number.

Ah, oh that might, ah, that might be a stretch…

…body and beats, I stain my sheets I don't even know why…

Now it should have four numbers, you have only put in three.

Aaah - ooh, I, ah…

…my girlfriend, she's at the end,
She is starting to cry 

No, that's not it is it. OK, you've got another card?
I do, I… here it is

Let me go ooooooooon like
I blister in the sun 

Well do you know the number? This one needs a PIN number too. 

Let me go ooooooon
Big hands, I know you're the one…

* * * *

I stuck on my nine stamps. This was all still going on as I left. Good luck sir and well done to the grim postal clerk for holding it together and being respectful.

Tuesday Night Soccer 30.10.18

Well this was a bright idea - I hurt myself on Tuesday and won't be playing again for a while. But nevertheless I scored three goals (can only remember 2 right now) and did a couple of nice passes.

White: Steve, Cam, Troy, Old Sean, Pat, +1
Black: Adrian, Me, Rick, Hazel, Ben

• Took the ball up the centre and space opened up so I toed it at Steve in goals. He didn't see it coming and fumbled it in, and it hurt his wrist
• Little give and go with Adrian, punted it into the corner with my left toe
• Long looping pass onto Rick's head which he put away
• Left foot chip over traffic, again to Rick, led to a goal.

I was sore all week and probably shouldn't have played, was just curious to see what it would do to me really. Now I am really sore, had an x-ray on Friday to indicate if its tendonitis or osteitis. I am 50 years old.