TOD Tour, Day 47 - Point Dangar

Sue in the gardens at Mavis's Kitchen

After leaving our digs mid morning, we only just warmed the engine before we stopped, even beforecrossing the baby Tweed River, at Mavis' Kitchen.

Run by the same organisation that has the lease at the Tweed Regional Gallery, we were greeted by a Frenchman and seated on the rear balcony which gets a last look at Korrumbyn Creek before it joins the Tweed. A popular spot for such occasions, the downstairs area was high in preparation for a wedding later in the day but despite all the activity, we were still made welcome. After our coffees, we went for a wander through the garden where much of the fruit and vegetables for the table are grown. Circular raised beds edged by roofing tiles make concentric circles from the centre of the garden and sculptures accentuate its European feel. It was a delightful interlude.

Following the Tweed after morning tea, we traced it to the ocean and an hour wandering at Point Danger on the NSW/Qld border.

Captain Cook Memorial
Lighthouse

The Captain Cook Memorial Light dominates this high point above Tweed Heads and is part navigation device, part sculpture, part tourist attraction and stands on what is still controversially named, Point Dangar. The argument is over whether the location named by Cook on 17th May, 1770 is here or Fingal Head. In 1823, John Oxley surveying in HMS Mermaid concluded that Fingal Head was the place named by Cook but in 1828, Henry Rous sailed up the eastern coastline from the south, rounded Fingal Head and moored in Rainbow Bay and named the current location as Cook's Point Dangar - an action which was to lead to nearly two hundred years of debate. Mind you, Rous then sailed down and mapped the Tweed, believing it to be the Clarence River, so perhaps that confusion and the highly skilled reputation of John Oxley leads us to the more accurate side of the argument.

1971, the same year that the lighthouse was built with its four tall concrete pillars marking the cardinal points of the compass and a year after the re-enactment of Cook's voyage up the east coast of Australia and great celebration's at Point Dangar, the Geographical names board concluded that Fingal Head was the point Cook named. However, the same board concluded in 1998, possibly with consideration to legal and constitutional ramifications over naming rights and state borders, that the current location and nomenclature are correct. The debate rages on, with books and papers from learned experts standing on one or the other side of the argument.

The light was the first in the world to experiment with a laser emitted warning beam but the experiment failed and it now flashes its double white flashes at an interval of ten seconds from an electric light source. Interestingly, that warning configuration is to warn mariners that there are reefs immediately to the east but there are no reefs there. They lie of Fingal Head!

The NSW Maritime Rescue operate from a prefab building beside the lighthouse, an arrangement bought on by the discovery of concrete cancer in the footings of the lighthouse, under which their permanent observation bunker looks out across the mouth of the Tweed River and to the ocean. They had run a small kiosk in there as well, to raise funds for their volunteer organisation, but OH&S considerations for the public meant it had to be abandoned until repair work was completed. They are still waiting for permission to return.

View over the mouth of the Tweed

A park area on the northern side of the light has been developed with a walk along the top of the cliffs and plaques dedicated to lives lost at sea during wars. A particular memorial marks the 268 civilian and medical staff lost when the hospital ship Centaur was torpedoed and sunk in just three minutes off North Stradbroke Island in May of 1943 by a Japanese submarine. The speed of the sinking prevented the deployment of lifeboats and only 64 survived for the next day and a half they were in the water before being rescued by the USS Mugford. It has been estimated more than 200 escaped the Centaur after the explosion but less than a third survived ... the dead drowning, dying of wounds or being taken by sharks.

Without any trace of racism in the comment, it felt strange watching Japanese tourists taking photos of the memorial, many of them bowing their heads for a moment's silence and I wondered how it felt for them. Perhaps Americans who have stood at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial might tell me.

It was only a short hour's drive from there to Birkdale, in the south east of Brisbane and the hospitality of Sue's sister Judy and her husband Russell.

A Little Further North - Exploring 1770

Bustard Bay, 1770

A full day, bright sunshine, 26C and not a cloud to be seen were the parameters within which we explored the Town of 1770 today. Under such tough conditions, we persevered and succeed in having a fine day.

Our caravan park is located at 1770 itself, which is closer to the southern headland to Bustard Bay, known as Round Hill. The township is really two small villages - Agnes Waters and 1770 - separated by a couple of hundred metres of the Captain Cook Drive.

Our first calling point this morning was the short few kilometres to the end of Captain Cook Drive where the housing runs out and the national parks have established a new carpark and lookout. Ironically, the view from the carpark is probably better than from the lookout but both revealed a very pretty place. I can easily imagine why ex Tambar people, the Husseys, chose to come to 1770. Believe me, there is no comparison between Tambar and 1770 which would even remotely give the north western pimple on the backside of society the edge over this little jewel. Blue green seas, lovely beaches, green green green tropical vegetation.

Mind you, its clear that the 1770 we were looking at today has changed dramatically in the last ten years. Like coastal places right around Australia, especially those with such rich visual assets, the developers have moved in and resorts are festering the landscape. Its a shame, because the locals might reap some financial benefit but the reason why they lived here is gradually submerging under the imagination of architects and the filthy lucre of businessmen.

1770 marks the second landing on Australian soil by The Navigator, Lt James Cook. He anchored in the bay, made observations, allowed Banks and Solander to go ashore and catalogue the flora and fauna and even shoot a bustard which made the evening dinner table, most likely only for officers and gentlemen. Matthew Flinders visited thirty two years later in Investigator and mapped the area with great accuracy.

At the Agnes Waters end, Daniel Clowes operated on a lease which occupied 12 square miles, running cattle down as far as the current surf beach. His was the first lease taken up at Agnes Water and it was Clowes who named it, for his daughter Agnes. Clowes first wife, Rachel, died and was buried on the property in January, 1885. He gave her a substantial gravestone for the time. Clowes remarried but when he died in May of 1991, his instruction was to be buried beside Rachel. Perhaps this wasn't taken well by the second wife, as the graves, which remain today in the small park behind the surf beach, show Rachel's fine masonry headstone, standing all of five feet high and beside it, an unmarked, crude wooden cross. Hell hath no fury they say ...

As an indication of the pace of development here, the surf club was only formed in 1989, largely using discarded equipment from other club and worked out of an old shipping container. Recently it has opened a new licenced premises at 1770, whilst it original shed remains at the beach at Agnes Water, still serving the purpose of being an active station from which the club can assure the safety of swimmers.

After the lookout, we stopped in for coffee at The Tree, which was originally a corner shop and sly grog shop. It is now a completely rebuilt cafe and licenced premises, with decking reminiscent of the decks of a ship and everything furnished in oiled wood and corrugated iron. The coffee was good and we followed it with a walk along the foreshore development which has been done with great taste by the local council. Gardens and decking walkways and well appointed shelter sheds for family bbq's stretch along a lengthy piece of the foreshore.

Sunset, 1770

We drove back to the opposite end of the settlement and took some photos at the beach at Agnes Water. As this place has now become a must for backpackers, accents thick in German, French, English curried the air. We dined on greasy fish and chips - a mistake we would both pay a price for.

After lunch, the local museum proved very interesting. It had been started and build 70 years ago by Arthur Jeffery, whose brother the park on what had been Clowes land - behind the beach and where he held hands into eternity with his first wife - had been name after. Arthur was a man with a bent for history, particularly objects from history and hist original timber museum forms part of the current building complex. As is usual with local museum, it was a hotchpotch of items, some of them totally irrelevant but never the less interesting. The written histories - one of which we purchased - are however most intriguing and often reveal the skeletons which rattle in small town cupboards.

Considering the entry price ($3), this was extra good value.

Sue took to the surf on a secluded part of the beach because there is still a little bit of wild thing in her which must be encouraged lest her dotage contain regrets. I envy her freedom and sometime wish I might ignore Peter's Little Helpers and live with such freedom as earlier years gifted me. This is, of course, foolishness or desire or both, because on balance, my more measured life is both safer and more fulfilling. Just sometimes, such as she splashed about this afternoon, yearning visits again to test my resolve but I won't let down those that look to me for example - however sideways their glances. Love makes this constraint an easy one to comply with.

Our daylight hours finished with a swim in the saltwater pool at the caravan park and then a rapt

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watching of the sunset over Bustard Bay - named by Cook to honour a delicious meal. Thank goodness the French weren't first to Australia. Can you imagine Cocq-a-vin Bay?

The sunset was red and purple and yellow and gorgeous. I'm sorry you missed but I'm glad you weren't here. That's Sue's job.

A Liitle Further North - Brisbane to Hervey Bay

After pleasant hours touching base with Sue's sister Judy, her husband Russell and their children Scott and Rachael during the time preceding bed, we both sleep extra well in our improvised digs in the spare bedroom, although the higher than usual humidity levels we will have to adapt to were evident.

In the morning, after one of Jude's usual extra healthy breakfasts, we set off and had left the confines of the Brisbane and her suburbs fairly quickly as we crossed the Gateway, slipped past the airport and were into the Glasshouse Mountains in no time flat. This collection of fifteen volcanic plugs in various stages of eroded decay, were named by Capt James Cook as he sailed north to an engagement with the Barrier Reef. Clearly seen form off shore, Captain Jim was reminded of the glass kilns of his home of Yorkshire by the shapes of the mountains. For those who have travelled south west of Gunnedah, the same effect can be had when reaching Mullaley and seeing the shapes of volcanic domes rising rapidly off the floor of the plains ... its just that these are far more dramatic and of course, linked to the Great Navigator himself.

We took in what we could without walking - my knee still in a semi-swollen and uncomfortable state post Waratahs Reunion weekend - and settled for the main lookout in the area. It was overcast but bright so definition was hard to find on the faces of these ancient, sullen children, brooding as they are in their own corners of the playground. The best part of our stop were photos of a Pretty Face Wallaby and joey. Before leaving the area, we had very ordinary coffee break, featuring very ordinary coffee. We are starting to get a sense for when it is wiser to order tea.

Pretty Face Wallaby 

We stopped shortly after so I could shoot some photos of a pineapple plantation below one of these huge, sudden mountains. Sue disappeared down the road and by the time I caught up with her, she was standing at the roadside with a freshly picked pineapple which she had charmed from a farmer who was conducting quality control on his crop as it was picked, ready for transport. Sue asked lots of questions, took some photos and would have used that little girl look and was rewarded with a free sample. Just as well she uses her charm for goodness and niceness!

On our way back to the Bruce Highway - only in Qld would a major arterial road be named Bruce - we called in at the Glasshouse Mountains Information Centre which was well resourced with people as well as information told through quality technology. Our first joint planning determined Hervey Bay as our destination for the evening and a site was booked and some SOP's agreed on. Until now, Sue had done all the planning and I just turned up but with us being well and truly on the road, it was time to be at least partially organised.

What struck us was the lack of rest stops in the first 250kms north of Brisbane. If you need relief or relief, you had to drive off the Bruce (no poofters) and into one of the many small town normally bypassed. It was one of these, Yandina, whose sporting oval played host to our lunchtime break and another of them, whose name was so easy to forget that I forgot it, which provided comfort through provision of a public toilet. Finally, Tiaro, gave us the chance to have a cup of tea (see, we are learning) and wait out an approaching storm. I wasn't driving through another wet outburst after the one near Beaudessert yesterday. Weatherzone - via my mobile phone - confirmed what our eyes told us, so we waited as the front passed through to the north of us. As a result, we drove only through showers and arrived at Hervey Bay after the tempest had spent it's fury.

We are booked in for two nights here just to do some strategic planning for the next three weeks.

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After that, we start on shorter hops and some look-and-see stuff.