BOYD’S TOWER

Boyd’s Tower is situated on the southern headland of Twofold Bay, above the Seahorse Shoals, on the far south coast of New South Wales.

[Sydney Illustrated News1870]
George Bass sailed passed there in 1797 and named this expanse of water after the two distinct sections which shape it. While exploring this area in the following year, he amusingly likened the reddish stained rocks that form a considerable part of the southern headland, to a drunkard’s nose. This area became known as Red Point.

the red cliffs below the tower

Just over four decades after the fleeting visit made by Bass, a five storey, sandstone Tower graced the southern headland. This four sided Tower displayed at the top of each of the three sides which faced the water the capital letters BOYD. Indented into the stone and coloured in black, the name Boyd could be clearly read. This imposing construction rose to a height of some twenty-three metres. It advertised to maritime travellers that they were now entering the commercial empire of a London stockbroker named Benjamin Boyd.

Although never completed, the sandstone Tower  still testifies to the skill of the many tradespersons who worked on it. It also reminds us of the physically backbreaking work involved in a structure of such imposing height. Whenever I have walked around and entered the Tower during my visits over the last twenty or so years, I have never felt the structure in any way threatening to my safety.

BOYD carved at the top of the tower

At the time of the Tower’s erection in late 1846 and 1847, Boyd had already established a town nearby in Twofold Bay. Bearing his name, Boydtown was to be the centre for his ambitious, commercial enterprises which included whaling, pastoralism, financial and maritime pursuits.   

   Previous to the Tower’s construction, Boyd had directed that a tower be built on the headland and a lantern placed at its summit. A large tree was modified  for this purpose. Its branches were removed and the  trunk was braced with wooden poles which were fixed with iron bands. Its visibility was increased by painting the wood white and the iron black. Not a lighthouse as such, its purpose was to indicate clearly just where the entrance to  Boydtown was on the coast. Prior to familiarity with the coastline and the availability of accurate charts, it was sometimes a hit and miss venture when sailing these often dangerous waters.  

Boyd’s Tower

Alexander Weatherhead provides us with some examples from his own experience, in his memoir Leaves From My Life. When sailing with his family to Twofold Bay in the early1840s, the crew engaged the services of an Aboriginal man to act as a pilot ‘as they did not know where the bay was’. However, their pilot became confused and thought they were at Twofold Bay when in fact they were only near Bodalla. When they did finally arrive at Twofold Bay, the crew took some convincing to believe that they had actually arrived.

On a later trip, Weatherhead travelled from Sydney with a cargo of sandstone which had been quarried there. These dressed, sandstone blocks  were being shipped to Twofold Bay where they were to be be used to build the hotel at Boydtown. Despite Weatherhaead thinking he recognised Twofold Bay, the vessel sailed passed it. He was supported in his belief by three stone masons who had also previously travelled there. However, as Weatherhead reflected in his memoir, he ‘could not see anything to make (himself) sure of it’.      

Boyd’s Tower would help provide a solution to this uncertainty. It was originally intended to be a lighthouse. Each block of sandstone that went into its construction was quarried at Pyrmont in Sydney. The stone was pre-cut, numbered and shipped from Sydney on Boyd’s own steamships. As mentioned above, he had previously done the same thing with the sandstone required for the Boydtown buildings.  Offloaded at East Boyd jetty, the stone blocks for the Tower were then transported, two at a time, by bullock wagon. This was a difficult and expensive enterprise, by any stretch of the imagination. Unused stones can still be seen scattered on the ground as you approach the Tower. Grouped in pairs they appear to lie where they were originally tipped from the bullock wagons.

Unused sandstone blocks left where they were tipped from the wagons

Because of his many other enterprises, Boyd delegated Oswald Brierly, the manager of the East Boyd whaling station, to supervise the construction of the Tower. During the build, Brierly and Boyd kept in contact by letter. A crude gantry system was apparently used to haul the blocks into position, doing  away with the need for scaffolding. Stonemasons were employed to dress the sandstone blocks. Access to each wooden level or ‘staging’ was by ladder. Serious consideration must have been given to safety as there appears to have been no death or serious injury during the build.  

looking up through the wooden stages inside Boyd’s Tower

The Tower failed to satisfy an official inspection and was never completed. It was only ever lit briefly three times. From 1848 the new Tower gave Boyd’s whale crews a significant advantage over rival ones. They began to use it as a  convenient lookout for whale spotting until Boyd’s financial failures and his subsequent departure from Australia in 1849.

From 1860, Alexander Davidson and his family began shore-based whaling from Kiah Inlet in Twofold Bay. There he built a boatshed and tryworks. He also placed lookouts at the Tower. A gunshot was fired or smoke signal sent to warn the boat crews in the bay when a whale was sighted. Photographs show a rough shelter was constructed against the base of the north facing wall and nearby a fireplace was constructed from three of the unused stones. The latter can still be seen today.

Whalers can be seen in the windows and in the shelter. [photo: CE Wellings]
The hole which was cut into the Tower wall to support the roof ridge of the shelter is also visible. A draught board was fashioned out of another disused stone so the whalers could pass the time while waiting for a sighting. This ‘game board’ has also survived. Fishing was another activity carried out while they waited.

A visit to Kiah Inlet today gives a very different impression of what things would have been like in the hectic days of whaling. The gentle lapping of the water and the picturesque expanse of beach is now in sharp contrast to when whaling was operating there.. The smells which emanated from the try works, the noisy activity involved in the dissection of the whales and their blood and parts subsequently polluting water and beach, can now only be imagined.

Kiah Inlet

The ever present dangers involved in whaling are highlighted by a carved inscription in the stone ledge at the bottom of the ground floor northern window of the Tower. It is a memorial to a young Norwegian oarsman from a Davidson whaling boat.

‘In memory of Peter Lia,

who was killed by a whale,

September 28, 1881.

Aged 2 _’

Over the years, it has become difficult to read Peter Lia’s age. He was probably 22 or 24. Two small crosses have also been carved on each side of this window. The incident resulting in Lia’s death occurred at night. The whale, on being harpooned, apparently towed the boat eight miles out to sea. If the harpoon rope had not been cut, things could have been even grimmer than they tuned out to be. Sadly, Lia’s body was never retrieved. He was the only employee known to have lost his life while whaling for the Davidson family.

The condition of the Tower’s stone work is still good, despite the weathering of some small sections. Sometime during the first two decades after its construction the Tower suffered lightning damage to the top of its south-west corner. 

Lightning damage at the top of the tower

In his 1988 Boyer Lecture, the late Professor Manning Clark confessed that in his volumes on Australian history, his ‘scenes with ordinary people were niggardly in number’ when compared to those written about ‘the mighty men of renown’. I was reminded of these comments when visiting the Tower in early 1997.  BOYD’s name is in large letters on top of the tower whereas the name of Peter Lia is not so clearly visible. It looks as though it was hand chiselled into the window ledge by one of his workmates. This observation led to the writing of the song Boyd’s Tower which tells the story of Peter Lia’s death.

The Ben Boyd National Park Bicentennial Project described the Tower that sits prominently on the southern headland as ‘the most extravagant in scale and construction of the buildings Boyd erected at Twofold Bay’. From this it could legitimately be argued that this expensive, uncompleted and unused structure is a monument to its namesake’s folly. Perhaps it is more realistic to regard the Tower as a testament to the many unnamed tradespeople and workers who built it. Their skills and labour resulted in a solid, well-built, enduring  edifice that speaks volumes for their accuracy, precision and strenuous efforts. We should also include in this testimonial some other unsung ‘ordinary people’, namely the whalers who put their lives on the line each time they ventured out from Kiah Inlet in chase of ‘the giants of the icy deep’.

© Jim Low


Jim Low is a singer/songwriter and published author. His background is in education and he has also developed learning materials for the NSW Department of School Education. His passion is Australian history.

EMAIL: jim@jimlow.net       WEBSITE: jimlow.net


From Bung Bong to Lapstone Hill

© Jim Low

Last March, while travelling to Melbourne from Warracknabeal, I came to Bung Bong. This area, which sounds like it was named after some defective piece of drug apparatus, is on the Pyrenees Highway. I stopped where the highway crosses the Bet Bet Creek. Next to the crossing are the ruins of the old Bung Bong road bridge, also known as the Glenmona Bridge.

Glenmona Bridge
Glenmona Bridge

Built in 1871, this bridge replaced its wooden predecessor which was washed away by extreme flood waters the previous year. The three span bridge is made of bluestone piers and abutments which support three, wrought iron, lattice trusses. Rather than importing them from England, these forty six and a half metre long trusses were the first of a series to be used for main road bridges in rural Victoria. They were manufactured in Ballarat and are considered to be”significant artefacts in the history of manufacturing in Victoria”.

The crossing over which the bridge spans was a very important transport corridor during the nineteenth century. Pastoral enterprises and gold discoveries induced people to venture into the central and western areas of the state.

Stopping on seeing this old, abandoned bridge from the highway, I must admit I had a bit of a job getting anywhere near it. No sign was evident to provide the passer-by with information about the bridge. If this was such a significant reminder of our past, as I was later to discover, no effort had been made to facilitate a closer scrutiny. No path was discernible and a preponderance of natural undergrowth hampered my endeavours.

When finally at the bridge, I saw that the main deck that would have rested on the bridge’s trusses was gone. I later read that this deck, made of wooden planking, was destroyed long ago by fire. The three trusses however were still clearly visible. Unfortunately this also meant that they were now at the mercy of the weather.

I climbed under the bridge and photographed the piers that towered about ten metres above me. I found it useful to approach the bridge from both sides of the crossing to appreciate fully the effort and craftsmanship that went into its making.

After leaving the bridge I immediately left the Pyrenees Highway and travelled along the Talbot-Avoca Road. It was not long before some more built features in the landscape caught my attention. These however were not quite as obvious as the bridge had been. I discovered three bluestone culverts of varying dimensions along the road, the largest one at a place called Amherst, just before Talbot. Only the first of these culverts still had rusted, metal clasps protruding from the parapets. I imagine these clasps would have secured wooden, safety posts along which railings would have run. I guess over the years the others had been pilfered for scrap metal.

The workmanship that went into the design and construction of these culverts was impressive. The dressed bordering of the keystones, the delicate curvature of one of the parapets and the neat, lined patterns formed by the sparing use of mortar between the bluestone, all added to their visual impact. They seemed a sympathetic complement to the undulating, picturesque, rural bushland setting. As I climbed around these fascinating, carefully fashioned constructions from the past, appreciating their value and significance, I was also aware of the overgrown state of the immediate vegetation.

Culvert on Mitchell’s Pass

Looking after such significant sites appears no longer to be of a high priority. I was reminded of the sandstone block culverts that run under the historic Mitchell’s Pass on the lower Blue Mountains in New South Wales, very close to where I live. Constructed by convicts nearly one hundred and eighty years ago, a descent through overgrown weeds and shrubs is now the only way you can find and appreciate them.

These thoughts from the Victorian countryside returned to me last week when walking above a very deep, sandstone cutting which leds to the eastern portal of the now disused Lapstone Tunnel. Use of the tunnel began at the end of 1892. This single rail tunnel was part of the first attempt to deviate from the Lapstone Zigzag Railway. The zigzag had been built in the 1860s by John Whitton and opened in 1867. Whitton’s limited budget did not allow for the construction of a tunnel. The zigzag was therefore his solution to the dilemma of getting a railway line successfully onto the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, New South Wales. The zigzag railway was used for twenty five years.

Access to the eastern portal is not signposted. It is overgrown, dangerous in a number of places but very exciting and rewarding to visit. Like the old Bung Bong Bridge and the culverts I accidentally came across in Victoria, the portal is disappearing into the undergrowth. The top curvature of the tunnel is only just visible as are the sandstone blocks that surround the upper section of the portal.

unused Lapstone tunnel

The ridge line opposite to where I walked was the vantage point from which the well-known Australian artist Arthur Streeton captured the tunnel’s construction. From sketches and water colourings he made at this site in 1891 while residing at Glenbrook, Streeton created his famous oil painting Fire’s On. It now hangs in the Art Gallery of Sydney.

He likened the eastern portal to “a great dragon’s mouth”. He was fascinated by the depth of the sandstone cutting which leads to the tunnel and the way not only the workers at the base of the cutting but also the gum trees along the tops were so diminished in size. These days the cutting’s depth, while apparent, is mostly hidden by trees and undergrowth.

Unfortunately many people do not have the opportunity to see some of these places of significance and it is usually because they are unaware of their existence. As these sites continue to be hidden by the natural growth around them and damaged by weather as well as vandalism, the chances to gain information about them and suitable access to appreciate them are further diminished.

I know it all comes down to money and many of our places of historical significance do not generate the dollar. This possibly explains why many tourist information centres do not consider the provision of information about these historic sites a high priority, unless of course they can in some way provide a financial return. The upkeep of such sites through their conservation, restoration and maintenance puts considerable demands on the public purse strings. This does not take into account the other problems relating to public safety and liability when visiting such sites. It is a real problem because as Australians we should be aware of our country’s rich history. What better way to achieve this than to visit the areas of significance and hopefully appreciate that history more readily.

Read the poem called Abandoned Bridge over Bet Bet Creek