STORIES OF THE ROAD…
The ruin
THE DAY is dim and dismal. Rain falls from a slate grey sky. It is cool rather than cold. The weather sets the mood for my exploration of this old house on the clifftop above the gorge.
I am at the end of the road at Duck Reach in Launceston. Far below, the South Esk River tumbles as a fast flowing cascade. On its northern bank is the old Duck Reach hydroelectric station which in 1895 made Launceston the first city in Australia to be illuminated by hydroelectric power, and one of the first in the world. It generated hydroelectricity continuously for 60 years from 1895 and was the first publicly-owned hydroelectric power station in Australia and one of the earliest anywhere.
All went well until 1929 when the South Esk rose in flood. The power station was wrecked. The city was plunged into darkness. Other than that incident, the hydro station supplied the city with power until its decommissioning in 1955 and replacement by the dam and power station at Trevallyn, further upstream. The station is now a historic structure, a museum of what once was.
The river
I stand atop a vertical cliff of dolerite and below the river flows around water-rounded boulders and through pools connected by rapids at the bottom of the steep, forest-clad gorge. I can see a fair way along its length, its colours no longer dulled by the day’s overcast now that the clouds are clearing.
Scrubby forest clads the steep slopes and taller forest the tops on either side. I know that somewhere out of sight in the forest on the far side is a walking track that takes you to Trevellyn dam and the impoundment that is the lake it detains. I followed it once.
The ruin
The ruin stands behind me. Of what was once a building of heavy stone blocks, only the walls remain. What is it, this dark grey rock the walls are made of? Bluestone? That is what the locals call it.
I walk up the steps and peer through the door frame. There is no floor. It was consumed by the fire that destroyed the interior and the roof. Three large double-sided brick fireplaces project above what once was the roofline. The verandah remains, its awning singed by fire. When did fire come through here? Decades ago, I was told. An accident? Local folklore suggests otherwise.
The ruin sits on a slope. Under its elevated side are the ashes of a small fire suggesting that a homeless person camped here at some time. Although there is no floor here and it is dark and moist, it would have provided shelter from the rain and winter winds.
Curious about the brick structure up the slope above the ruins where the grassy clearing edges onto an open forest of small trees, I go check it out. It is an old water tank that was fed from runoff flowing in from upslope. Now it holds only debris.
The ruin is one of several stone buildings along this short length of street. The others have been rehabilitated and today they are the homes of people who like their isolation here above the gorge. This one stood at the end of the row but a little apart, and is said to have been the engineer’s quarters. The others, too, housed people who worked at the hydro station below. They look out to the far side of the gorge above the power station, but this end one also offers a fine view along the gorge and the South Esk that runs through it.
Here at the end of the narrow road the occupants could sit and gaze along the river while, below, the turbines hummed as they sent the energy of running water to the downstream city.
Beyond the fence at the end of the road a rough pad skirts the top of the cliffs, probably a route followed by locals and visitors to get to cliff top from where the view is along the gorge and the river.
The rain has set in now. It is constant, somewhere between moderate and heavy. Below the uniformly grey sky the forested far side of the gorge is the dullest of greens. A wind comes up and blows through the foliage.
What of the people?
On exploring ruins I wonder about the people who lived in them. What were the lives of those who operated the power station and who lived in these stone houses like? Did they feel the excitement of pioneering a new energy system, of bringing electric light to the city? Did their work create a sense of technological optimism as the new century unfolded?
There must have been many days like today experienced by the people who were here when that ruin was a house full of the life that happens in houses.
I turn to go, casting one last look at this ruin of dark stone in a misty and drenched landscape.
