Australia 1988

Tuesday 26 April — Sydney

We hit the ground at Sydney Airport just after 1200. The immigration person gave me six months without being asked. Customs was no problem. Outside, I enquired of a transport person which station I could get a train to Perth from, she said “Indian Pacific?”, I said “No, a steam train”. She didn’t blink, but I got funny looks from sundry bystanders. Took the airport shuttle into the Central Railway Station and headed for the information desk, where there was not much information. This is the right station, the train leaves at 0830 tomorrow, but that’s all they know. However, they did have a phone number. I rang it, explained what I was after, and was told - “the man who looks after that is not in today, but here’s another phone number” - which turned out to be the station information desk.

So I decided to have a beer or two and then find some accommodation near the station to facilitate an early start. Which turned out to be very easy, finding the accommodation that is, the CB Private Hotel, 200 rooms (which turned out to be cubicles with solid walls), and a single was $22. This was more convenient than trekking 2.5km to the nearest YH, which might be full.

So, dumped the bags and headed for the focal point of Sydney, the harbour, attending to a few small things (like getting some Australian currency) en route. The harbour is really nice, the last of the evening sun shining on the Opera House, ferries shuttling back and forth, the bridge looming above. Very nice.

I wandered around for a bit, sitting in front of the Opera House watching it getting dark, then thought about food. Long queue at a fish and chip shop, and while wandering around looking for an alternative, I decided instead to go for a cruise on the Manly ferry to view the harbour from the water. Which turned out to be a very good idea. It’s about 28 minutes each way with, in this case, a 7 minute turnaround, but there’s three boats in use at peak periods. The ferries do have a bow and a stern but both ends are sharp and have propellers. The only obvious indication of direction is that they switch off the Christmas tree lights at the front for the benefit of the helmsman.

Had a wander around the other side of the harbour and went into my first pub in Australia, the Fortunes of War, the oldest licence in Sydney. Back to the hotel, observing scenes apparently of the building of a station for the monorail which is not yet operational. (It was due for completion last September.)

Wednesday 27 April — Day 1 — Sydney to Bathurst

Australian Bicentennial Steam Trip No.3

As their contribution to the Australian Bicentennial celebrations, Railways of Australia, a co-ordinating committee for the various state railway organisations, organised a series of steam-hauled excursions to visit all state capitals accessible on the standard gauge rails. All the excursions would to be hauled by restored State Rail (NSW) locomotive 3801 which was brought back to mainline condition for the event by donations, Government grants and industry sponsorship channelled through 3801 Ltd.

3801 entered service in 1943 and was finally withdrawn in 1967. It has already crossed the continent, in 1970, hauling the “Western Endeavour” to mark the completion of the standard gauge rails to Perth.

By chance, I was informed of these trips while still in Auckland, and since one of them, from Sydney to Perth, was due to start the day after I would arrive there, I decided to try for a place on it. Railways of Australia have an office in Auckland Station and had a brochure but were not handling bookings for it. They directed me to a marketing company who knew nothing about it. The Australian Tourist Board had some information about it but are purely an information service. In the end, the Australia Travel Shop managed to get me booked for a price less than that quoted in the brochure but received no information to explain the difference, nor any departure details.

This narrative of the trip is based on my travel diary augmented by technical detail, place names and times gleaned from an article published in the New South Wales Railway Digest in July 1988, a copy of which was sent to me by one of my fellow passengers, and from various booklets I picked up on my travels.

No trouble getting up this morning. A building site adjacent to the hotel opened up at 0500 and that was that. I was at the railway station at 0700, just to be on the safe side. No-one knew what I should do with the voucher for a ticket from Sydney to Perth, to be presented to the Stationmaster, Melbourne, so we agreed to forget about it. The train goes from Platform 2 at 0820, not 0830 as I was informed yesterday, and there it was. Red carpet and a reception committee at the gate. They had a name tag for Mr I Reynolds, possibly me but the booking had been made for a Mr G Reynolds. A further search revealed another tag for a Mr initial-less Reynolds so I got that one.

I found my seat in the second class half of a carriage, dumped my bag and went for a wander up the platform. The train is made up of seven seating cars, a buffet and a lounge car, mostly of pre-war vintage, plus a crew car and a van of spare parts for the engine. Motive power is provided by 3801, to be assisted as far as Broken Hill by 3642, also a preserved State Rail loco. The compartments can seat 8 but are generally occupied by three or four people. I’m sharing a compartment with George and Val Hicks, from Penrith. There’s about 175 passengers in total.

There was a formal platform send-off before we left more or less on time. A lot of lineside interest. At Penrith, they attached an electric locomotive 4623 to assist with the steady climb up the Blue Mountains, which rather spoiled the first photo stop just west of Lawson. Mind you, it wasn’t a great location for a runpast anyway, as the official photo line set up on a bank at the end of a straight rather than by the lineside on the curve. Apparently, Australian railfans don’t like people in their photos. I hid in the bushes. 4623 was detached at Katoomba.

At Mt Victoria

We disembarked for lunch at Blackheath Community Hall, prepared by the local hotel and served in a most efficient manner in pleasant surroundings. There was a choice of main course, the two dishes being served alternately around the table and the punters left to swap with their neighbour to achieve the desired result.

After lunch, we boarded the 1323 local electric service with double-decker coaches seating 139, to Mt Victoria where our train had gone ahead to water the engines. From there, we steamed on through ten tunnels, bypassing the old line which zigzags down the hillside (now preserved by the ZigZag Railway), down to the coalfield at Lithgow. The next photo stop west of Tarana was much more satisfactory, with road realignment and new bridgeworks providing an excellent grandstand at the end of a curve. After that, it was on to Bathurst for the first overnight stop.

Coaches transferred the passengers to various motels. I share a room with Ted Ashdown. We both got cleaned up in under half an hour and back out for the coach to the Bathurst Leagues Club for cocktails (which turned out to be sherry or punch), a mayoral welcome (which was given by the Deputy Mayor) and dinner (which was very good). As at lunch, the choice for each course was implemented by dishing them up alternately around the table and letting the plebs sort it out as best they could. Afterwards, I went down to the bar and inspected the “pokies”, one-armed bandits, now mostly armless (you drop your money in and press a button), which are very popular in NSW. I did not waste my own money, just watched others losing theirs. Back to the motel by coach, then Ted and I went for a walk around the town centre before turning in.

Thursday 28 April — Day 2 — Bathurst to Parkes

Sort of an early start. Breakfast at 0700 before getting picked up by the coach at 0730 for what should have been an 0820 start. However, by the time they got the engines out of the yard and on to the train it was nearly nine o’clock before we rolled. We had not gone far before we were sidetracked into a loop to cross an eastbound passenger train and we were an hour late. A planned morning stop for a welcome by Newbridge residents became a cheery wave as we steamed past.

The residents of Blaney were made of sterner stuff. The place was stowed, with school children and adults seated in serried ranks by the lineside. Some of the older students staged a pageant - bushwhackers robbing the gold shipment - with lots of blanks (I hope) fired from shotguns. The goodies won. Then on to Orange for lunch. A tour of the town (I skipped the Visitor Centre and Art Gallery to go buy some more film), then out to Lake Canobolas for an excellent picnic lunch. [The lake was formed as an auxiliary water supply for Orange by damming Meadow Creek in October 1918, and the surrounding parkland is a popular picnic spot.] We rejoined the train a few miles further on at Borenore, losing a bit more time, and continued. Crossed the Silver City Comet (Broken Hill to Orange) at Molong then on to Parkes.

Coaches to the motel, El Mexicale, and a right rush to clean up before going to the Parkes Citizens Club for another excellent dinner with the menu choice again implemented by the alternate serving method. Afterwards a few speeches, then the local Musical Society staged an abridged version of their recent production “Blitz at the Ritz”, songs from the Second World War and bits of “The Glums” and “Dad and Dave”. Very enjoyable. Ted and I decided to walk back to the motel but went off in the wrong direction and ambled around the town for some time before meeting someone who knew where the station was, from which we could re-establish our bearings.

Friday 29 April — Day 3 — Parkes to Broken Hill

Waiting to cross a freight at Condobolin

A very early start today. It would have been even earlier but the alarm on my watch is not loud enough to penetrate sleep. But the toast arrived at 0530 and we were ready to catch the coach at 0600. 3642 has gone ahead to Ivanhoe for servicing and we start today hauled by 3801 solo. We did not leave at 0630 as scheduled, for no good reason, but by the time we reached Ivanhoe, we had gained an hour on the schedule. I had timed us at 17.2 seconds for a half kilometre, about 65 mph. There was a lot of footering about, changing engines and watering the carriages and we did not depart at the appointed time and then had to wait for a freight to come through. Finally left an hour behind schedule and, with a fairly spiritless performance by the crew of 3642, dropped a bit more time to be an hour and a half late at our evening meal stop at Menindee, having had one reasonable photo stop and an unscheduled stop in the sunset just before Menindee due to a shortage of steam!

A coach transfer to the local power boat club at Menindee Lakes, a water control complex for the Darling River. With no sense of urgency during the meal, we were well fed again and almost two hours late before we were ready to depart with both engines back again, but then we had to get out of the way for the Silver City Comet to come through towards Broken Hill. Then they couldn’t get the brakes off on both engines at the same time. When they got that sorted out, we were three hours late but it was a lovely run through the night under a starry sky with the fire reflecting on the smoke and steam every time the fireman opened the firebox door.

When we got to Broken Hill, they couldn’t fit all the luggage in one of the coaches so eleven of us were left at the station. After forty minutes, we lost faith in the coach driver’s promise to return and took taxis to the Mine Host Motel, where our room allocations were on a sheet of paper stuck to the office door.

Saturday 30 April — Day 4 — Broken Hill to Peterborough

Ted had stuck the breakfast order under the office door and it arrived in good time and reasonably correct. I had booked for the “Surface Mine and City Sights Tour”, expecting an open cast mine, but we drove into a pithead yard and back out again! This was after the bus had insufficient room for our luggage, which had to be left at the motel, and the bus broke down and took an hour to repair. We and the rest of our luggage did make it to the station on time but the train didn’t. A blocked injector was discovered on 3801 at the last minute and we finally left at 1400, two hours late, leaving 3642 behind to work its way back to Sydney with numerous school excursions en route.

Good steaming along the way, and a fairly slack schedule, recovered most of the lost time by Mannahill, in the middle of nowhere, but we had to wait to cross the Indian Pacific and were again late before we continued to Peterborough. I had a single room at the Junction Hotel, a cheap, reasonably clean pub rather more geared to the budget traveller than to some of our party who were booked in there. The food was good, I had a beer in the bar and retired. I’m told the disco downstairs continued till 0130 but I didn’t hear it.

Sunday 1 May — Day 5 — Peterborough to Port Augusta

Some of our party looked a little shell-shocked at breakfast. Peterborough is one of only two places where the narrow, standard and broad gauge lines of Australia all met, and has an important place in railway history. It now has a preservation society who run a steam train on holiday weekend Sundays on the otherwise disused narrow gauge line to Orrorroo and sometimes beyond. We had a trip out there on their train, hauled by PMR720 (NBL, 1949 for WAGR), with an excellent photo stop at Black Rock Bridge on the way back.

Departure was delayed to allow the Indian Pacific through, then on to a photo stop at Gladstone, the other place where all three gauges meet, to observe the only set of point with the three gauges on the same set of switches, something that there isn’t at Peterborough. Next photo stop at Crystal Brook where the standard gauge bridge collapsed a few years ago under a freight train and the line was temporarily rerouted over the disused narrow gauge bridge alongside. Fairly uneventful run through Coonamia, our nearest approach to Port Pirie, then north alongside the Spencer Gulf to Port Augusta.

Coach transfer to motels, most people in the Standpipe Golf Motor Inn, a large and expanding establishment on the outskirts of the town. Long queue in the dining room which can seat about 200 but can’t serve them all at once, even on a self service basis. After dinner, Ted went to do some laundry and I went for a wander into town. Nothing moved, except a couple of other lads from the train, also out for a postprandial stroll. Seems like a nice town. Returned to the motel for a cup of tea and bed.

Monday 2 May — Day 6 — Port Augusta to Tarcoola

An excursion this morning to the Pichi Richi Railway, another preserved length of narrow gauge line, part of the original Ghan line to Marree. More trouble here fitting the luggage into the coach, not to mention the people. However, we got away and drove to Quorn for a tour of the railway workshops. Therein I espied another Scottish built loco, a small shunter called Peronne built by Andrew Barclay in Kilmarnock. I was told later that I had missed another from the same stable called Paschendale, though not in such good order. Then a trip down their 16.5 kilometres of track, hauled by W934 (built by Beyer Peacock for WAGR in 1951), to Woolshed Flat where we rejoined the coaches for the return to Port Augusta.

The train has been somewhat augmented with the addition of Australian National diesel locomotives GM1 and GM2 (built only three years after 3801), still in use on scheduled traffic but due for preservation in the near future, plus a number of sleeping cars, buffet car, dining car and a power car for the air conditioning, not to mention the two water “gins” we’ve been carrying since Parkes. I’m told the total weight is now 1200 tons with three engines and 26 carriages/wagons. The sleeping cars are for the use of Group 1 passengers, limited in number to the three sittings of 48 that the dining car can handle. Group 2 passengers (including me) sleep in the sitting carriages and get meals from the buffet car.

As usual we’re running late, due to the delay with the coaches this morning. At the first photo stop, Yorkeys Crossing, once the train was moving, the diesels shut down leaving 3801 to pull the train up the slight incline itself, to some spontaneous applause from the official photo line (after they had taken their photos of course). It was dark when we reached Pimba, we could see the lights of Woomera across the plain. Just a small settlement. There was a fair gathering of locals to admire the engine. We continued into the night, but I’ve no idea when we reached Tarcoola, I had given up and retired at about 2315 when we were still a good way short.

Tuesday 3 May — Day 7 — Tarcoola to

I slept well on the carriage seat, except for a period when someone parked a diesel outside the window. There was a glorious sunrise which I did not photograph, being still too befuddled to think clearly. We should have left Tarcoola at five but it was nearer eight before we got away. At a photo stop at Manna Bank, the diesels blew a fuse, again leaving 3801 to haul the train up the slight grade itself. Took a photo of Barton before we reached the monument near Ooldea marking the joining of the lines from east and west in 1917. Apparently they were six inches out! Some rain fell while we were out, but it evaporated almost as soon as it hit the ground.

Nullarbor Plain from the train

On to the Nullarbor Plain and the longest straight in the world, all 300 miles of it. Stopped at Cook for longer than we should have. The locals had laid on free tea and bickies, with a donation box, proceeds to go to the local school and hospital. The diesels on scheduled services stop here, allowing the passengers twenty minutes to visit the souvenir caravan at the station, proceeds to the school, hospital and the Flying Doctor Service. I saw some tank wagons built in Wishaw.

It was dusk as we left Cook, still with a good distance to go on the longest straight. I wanted salmon mornay for dinner but again it had run out. So I got an extra profiterole and scoop of ice cream for dessert. Later I sat in the buffet car over a beer or three and had a congenial evening with the buffet car staff and a few hardy drinkers, before retiring to my compartment for a good night’s sleep.

Wednesday 4 May — Day 8 — Kalgoorlie

We were still chanking along when I woke just after six. I got up shortly after and ambled around a bit before breakfast. Took a photo at Zanthus, five and a half hours late. There is some slack in the timetable ahead but not that much. At Parkeston, we dropped the diesels that have assisted us from Port Augusta and picked up 200 school children for the last few kilometres under steam into Kalgoorlie, only four and a half hours late.

With a bit of shuffling of the timetable, the pre-arranged tours of Kalgoorlie/Boulder took place. I had booked for the tour of the Loop Line through the Golden Mile, in its day the richest gold mining square mile in the world. Now largely exhausted, some profit is being made by reprocessing the tailings (as at Broken Hill) with modern extraction techniques. The train was a couple of old suburban carriages from the days when this line had over 30 trains per day taking the miners to and from the mines. Then on to the Hainault Tourist Mine, for a tour of the old workings 200 feet underground. Then back into Kalgoorlie to return to the station via Hay Street with its three brothels, the existence of which, it is claimed, reduces the incidence of sexual crime to a very low level. I then nipped into the Kalgoorlie Hotel for a few beers before dinner in the Town Hall. Meanwhile, our train had been running trips for the locals.

After dinner, we left, more or less on time. There was a social gathering in the buffet car which finished off my bottle of Glenmorangie. Then the train made an unscheduled stop. A Swiss Army knife is very good for opening locked doors! There was much activity around the engine and they were still at it when I went to bed.

Thursday 5 May — Day 9 — Koolyanobbing to Perth

Merredin Railway Museum

The trouble was a stuffed bearing on the coupling rods and they have been taken off one side. So we’ll have the Westrail L261 diesel on front all the way to Perth rather than dropping it with the sleeping cars at Merredin. We stopped there for a while to refuel and water the engines, as well as feeding the multitude breakfast in the local community hall. Visited the small museum. Enthusiastic photographers were bused a couple of miles out of town to the marshalling yard for a fast run past.

Now running two hours late, on to Northam where lunch was thrown aboard. A last photo stop at Windmill Cutting. After a brief trial on the way into Perth, we dropped the diesel a mile or so before the terminal and 3801 hauled about 1000 tons into Perth on one cylinder, to be welcomed by a large crowd on the platform, only about twenty minutes late after nine days and nearly four thousand kilometres.

Postscript

Arrangements had already been made to get spares out from Sydney with hopes of effecting repairs before the local steam trips started on the following Saturday. Despite heroic efforts by 3801 Ltd, Westrail and local engineering shops, this proved impossible and 3801 did not run any steam trips in Perth. It returned east to Adelaide on schedule, but attached to a freight train. I saw it again there, and as far as I know, it steamed successfully through the rest of its programme.

Throughout this trip, I was much impressed by the enthusiasm shown by railway staff and the communities through which we passed. Particular thanks are due to the organising committee and their representatives who travelled on the train, Michael, Denny and Alan.

Wandered off to the nearest YH in Newcastle St and booked in for two nights. Had a shower then wandered around the city centre, bought a beer or two and retired early, being a bit tired and suffering a feeling of anti-climax after nine days on the move.