The Lorne pier, a true centerpiece to Lorne from almost any angle, is a seminal feature that still echoes the past – despite its recent renewal.
Most know the pier as a place to stroll in the sun, to spot a frolicking seal, to watch a stingray effortlessly swirl and circle between the pylons, or from which to throw a line in hope of ‘the catch of the day’. Fewer know of its pivotal past: the bygone days of Lorne when the Port of Lorne – still the official, never-rescinded designation for our maritime link – was the industrial centre of our jewel of a town.
For most of the 1900s, till the couta suddenly disappeared from Bass Strait in the 1970s, the pier was all about fishing: couta boats lined up on its deck, its unique but necessary crane, crates of fish boxed in ‘the Co-op’, and the smells of fish, kelp, salt, and sea.
But reaching further back into memory, different sounds, sights and scents would have assailed the senses. The pungent smell of oil, the lazy drift of smoke from the stacks of a steamer drawn alongside, the neigh of weary horses, dung, the heady scent of newly cut timber, and the groan of chains. And, above all, the crash of massive trunks – the pride of the Otway forests – as they tumbled into the hold of a waiting ship.
Steamers would disgorge visitors to the guesthouses that were proliferating in the town centre then, laden with prized Mountain Ash and Messmate giants – hardwood timber felled from the ancient hills – they would depart for the ports of Geelong and Melbourne. These were the goldrush years in the second half of the 19th century when Victoria was riding the back of unparalleled prosperity. The goldfield poppet heads of Bendigo, Ballarat, Clunes and Maryborough, and the sidewalk promenades of a rapidly-expanding Marvelous Melbourne had created an endless demand for strong, durable timber. Lorne and our southern coastal neighbours, Apollo Bay and Wye River [see the remnants of its old loading pier] were close, and the sea-trip quick. Crucially, the Otway ranges held some of the finest, strongest timber the world had ever seen.
Then, there was no question: it was log, then log more. The environmental concerns and resource conservation issues of today were far from mind – indeed, they were not ‘in mind’ at all. Now-a-days, the clearing of old growth forests would have evoked visceral complaint from the environmentalist lobby, but then? … timber cutters were regarded as almost suicidally brave men – tough and uncompromising – working at unimaginable heights in the tree-tops of the mighty Otway Mountain Ash.
As the Otway old-growth forests were plundered, rail penetrated from inland to the north-western slopes into Deans Marsh and the Pennyroyal valley from Wensleydale and Moriac, into Weeaproinah and Beech Forest from Colac, and into Timboon, the Aire, and the Gellibrand River valleys from Camperdown and Cobden. Meanwhile, the Lorne pier provided sea access to the deep, short gullies of the eastern slopes, where giant hardwoods were abundant.
My great, great uncle, Howard Hitchcock who conceived, funded, then resourced the Great Ocean Road, was still in knee-breeches when the Port of Lorne was in its heyday, his ‘road’ not yet a twinkle in his eye. A chancy Cobb and Co. coach provided the only road access from Deans Marsh, but the coach was regularly bogged and immobilized by deep mud. The sea was the only reliable way in … and out.
Trains and railway lines were impossible in the steep coastal terrain, but horse-drawn trolleys and tiny, pocket handkerchief-sized steam engines that ran on rickety tram-tracks – the fore-runners of light rail – were ideal. Tramways penetrated the St George River, the Cumberland, and the lower reaches of the Erskine at Lorne, and the Barham River and Skenes Creek at Apollo Bay.
Walk the George upstream from the river mouth. The wide track to the footbridge over Cherry Tree Creek was once a tramway. Further up-river, look carefully as you tread, as remnants of tramline sleepers still remain – though most have now rotted away. Watch for the cuttings perched above tight river bends and carved through ridges.
Old tram tracks also hugged the coastline. Vestiges remain, high on the southern St George headland from Sheoak and low around the northern St George headland to the Queens Park caravan park. Their destination … the Lorne pier.
Sawmills dotted the hinterland – upwards of 300 at their heyday – with some close at hand to Lorne: the sawmill site at Allenvale – now a tent-only campground; the mill at Hitchcock Gully near Kennett River; Armistead’s Mill above the little Erskine bridge on 5-mile track; and Babington’s mill on the Wymboleel track from Benwerrin.
Once – and not so long ago – our nearby ranges echoed to the scrape of saws, the shouts of hard, tough timber men, the thunderous crash of felled giants, the snorts of laboring horses, the chuff of mini-steam engines, and the creak of laden wagons.
Drive the Kaanglang Track and about half-way down towards the Lake Elizabeth turn-off, three giant stumps from the old growth forest – axe-man notches carved into their sides like the mortal wounds of battle – still stand: immense echoes of a once-ancient forest. I never pass theses sentinels by without stopping: pausing to listen, and imagine, the long-past cries of the timbermen, the crash and splinter of the mighty Ash and Messmate, and the distant warning whistle of the timber train as it rolled the winding tramway, down to the Forrest rail-head and the mill that stood beside it.
Rail-heads at Forrest, Beech Forest, Deans Marsh, and Wensleydale bore away the giants from the western slopes while the piers at Apollo Bay, the Wye, and Lorne loaded the eastern stands – yet that the Otways were clear-felled is now but a memory. But … if you look carefully as you travel the forest tracks, you will notice how ‘size-uniform’ the forest trees are Indeed they are all 120-150 years of age. But … look even harder and here and there, a magical giant can be found, towering high above the rest, a remnant tree from the Gondwana forests of the old Otways.
Today, we think of Lorne as ‘good food, restaurants, the beach, and parties on the deck. But a deeper historical Lorne is founded in timber and fishing. Learn more of the hidden pulse of ‘old Lorne’ by visiting the Lorne Historical Society’s two current exhibits:
- ‘Timber! the Early History of the Otway Timber Industry’ exhibit at the Lorne Historical Society [Saturdays and Sundays, 10-ish to 12-ish].
- ‘Fishy Tales’ at the Lorne Co-Op [Saturdays and Sundays, 12-ish to 2-ish]
Both exhibits are excellent, are free, and both will take you and yours far deeper into this southern coastal gem of a town.
John Agar
