Here’s the very first podcast. It tells a little of the history of Boyd’s Tower at Twofold Bay on the far south coast of New South Wales. Listen to the tower’s story through the lives of two people associated with it – Ben Boyd, its builder, and Peter Lia, a young whaler who lost his life chasing a whale. Jim was there in mid September and thought the ambience inside the tower sounded so interesting that he had to try it. You will hear him testing the acoustics with his minidisc.
In early Spring, a corridor of golden wattle, nectar rich hairpin banksias and fallen gum leaves leads to an overhang. Four full-size “portals” plus “keyholes” create complex plays of sunlight on the earth below the dark sandstone.
A most unusual rock formation. The man who gave instructions for his mortal remains to have this as their final resting place was a most unusual man.
There was his wife’s half-way house. Mrs Foy found Blue Mountains trains slow, dirty and annoying so her husband built a little place where her coach could lay up overnight on trips from Darling Point to Medlow Bath and she could rest her head. He later sold this Faulconbridge property to Norman Lindsay and now its one of the National Trust’s showpieces.
Finally, there’s the ornate department store building opposite Sydney’s Museum Station. Foy was an honest retailer and the thousands of Sydney-siders entering the building to purchase something important had a fair idea what the charge would be. In 2017, the building is part of the “Downing Centre” complex of NSW courts and most entering still have a good understanding of the charge.
Standing before the bent old Black Ash tree, the orange lichen, the “Old Man’s Beard” plant, the grey flaky-barked tea trees and the geebungs, it’s easy to understand Mark Foy’s love for the hideaway that contrasted to the intensity of his life.
But his family didn’t put him there. Maybe they seized the opportunity to stop doing what he said. One thing we can take from the story of Mark Foy: If you are one of those wise people who want to spend lots of time communing with your favourite piece of Blue Mountains bushland, do it while you’re alive.
Railway history provides a sobering study for those contemplating massive outlays on new transport infrastructure (which seems to be a favourite preoccupation in the current era). It is interesting to reflect on the huge challenge for past governments in bringing some railway services into operation, even those that proved short-lived.
These histories of fast-tracked construction and short operational lives leading to substantial obsolescence should be noted by those who would risk the environment and the health of public finances on huge but dubious transport projects such as new motorways and airports.
The acquisition by National Parks and Wildlife Service of private land at Hat Hill Road earlier this year was another small advancement in the sustained campaign by this Society and others to preserve Blue Mountains swamps and make the public more aware of how important they are.
A 2015 chronology on our Society’s website by Lyndal Sullivan with excellent photographs by Dr Ian Baird outlines years of achievements but we still need to take every opportunity to make their role better understood and correct misinformation.
Various kinds of swamps play a role in nearly every part of the Greater Blue Mountains. Hat Hill Road is one of the best places to see them and comprehend their role in our broader ecology. Swamps aid the flourishing of significant species including the endangered Giant Dragonfly and Blue Mountains Water Skink. As our climate becomes more subject to extremes, swamps are valuable storage reservoirs, particularly the hanging swamps found on many slopes above Blue Mountains cliff-lines.
Swamps regularise the flow of streams and waterfalls during cycles of drought and excessive rain. This safeguards tiny ecological systems such as the wet cliff-face plant communities, some of them containing very rare species like the Dwarf Pine which depend on a regular spraying from waterfalls. The temperate rainforest communities in our canyons and valleys also rely on stream-flow being sustained.
Some commentators confuse some of our swamps with monocultures of grassland or the products of long-term indigenous management of the Blue Mountains landscape by fire. The various roles of indigenous people and fire in the mountains has been the subject of a long discussion by writers such as Margaret Baker (Geographical Society of NSW, Conference Papers No 14, 1997), and Andy McQueen (HERITAGE Blue Mountains Assn of Cultural Heritage Organisations, 2013). Indigenous people increased their numbers in high altitudes about 5,000 years ago when their tool technology improved, allowing better use of small mammals including possums and koalas. “Fire stick farming”, a much bandied-about example of indigenous land management, probably belongs to less rugged areas of Australia.
The swamps in the mountains contain diverse flora and fauna. Positive developments like the latest National Park addition must strengthen our resolve to promote their significance.
Sadly, not all visitors are respectful, particularly some with off road vehicles. Implementation of a plan of management is overdue. Thank you to Jim Smith for introducing me to this place.
Here’s the very first podcast. It tells a little of the history of Boyd’s Tower at Twofold Bay on the far south coast of New South Wales. Listen to the tower’s story through the lives of two people associated with it – Ben Boyd, its builder, and Peter Lia, a young whaler who lost his life chasing a whale. Jim was there in mid September and thought the ambience inside the tower sounded so interesting that he had to try it. You will hear him testing the acoustics with his minidisc.
