Thu 12 Sep 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

In this and following instalments, readers can obtain a first hand idea of what's to be seen and done when holidaying on Yorke Peninsula, an area which is fast increasing in popularity as a tourist area. The author of this article (which will be published by instalments until concluded) is a well-known local farmer with a keen appreciation of progressive ideas, and through his eyes readers will learn more of the areas concerned than a mere description of scenery would convey. Most Australians know too little about their own districts, their own States, or their own country, for that matter, and servicemen whose duties took them to many parts of this vast continent, now realise that this ignore ance has been their loss. Travellers' tales down the ages have always been welcome hearing, and the same holds for modern times. Should any other reader have been fortunate enough to indulge recently in a spot of travel, we would be only too pleased to publish a full account in these columns, and so allow others to share in the broadening influence of "seeing the world" or at least — as the Tourist Bureaux have it — "Seeing Australia First".

And now to join our modern explorers :

"The party entered Balaklava from, the Northern District surrounding the town, on one of those very dusty and warm days which this district is so noted for. One could certainly see where the dust was, coming from, and also where it was going, to some extent, from the higher undulating country surrounding these drifty areas.

As it was "Sale Day" in Balaklava, quite a large crowd had gathered, and one could not help being very much taken by the possibilities for development as a town of much more importance and attraction than it is at the present stage. One member of the party who has travelled the State extensively was quite outspoken in this direction and commented to the effect that Balaklava was very fortunate being such a centre with very little "big town"" opposition in any way, and had much of the trade and business to use to its own betterment and should realise that its possibilities were good for the future if taken notice of.

Owing to a change in the direction, of the wind, and cooler conditions, the party journeyed on through to Saints Station, Bowmans and to Port Wakefield. On this section we were very much impressed by the improvement in the sand drift position compared with the position last year when one large desert was the order of the day. The Highways Department have taken the sand from the railway line and built up the road with it, metalling the surface and making a very good road, which are the main essentials to happy tourist traffic.


Much growth, owing to the past favourable Spring, and further helped by Summer rains, have produced excellent prospects for the next season : one could not help but notice the difference, although the very much diminished livestock were conspicuous by their absence. Perhaps it is a good thing, as over-stocking has been one of the evils in some of our drier areas.

Some time was spent in Port Wakefield, as a few of the members had rather a keen desire to quench their thirsts, and this somewhat cooler seaside town, or rather, on the head of the Gulf, was much appreciated after the warmer conditions in Balaklava. Port Wakefield, although having seen much better days, shows nevertheless a fairly progressive local interest in the town. The local swimming pool was a delight to the young fry (of which there were several) who never on any one occasion missed a chance to use every means at their disposal for a bit of fun or a joke at someone's expense. This high glee was always encouraged and also often-times endured. At one stage a trailer was unhooked from the towing vehicle by this element and one can imagine the amusement of the bystanders as the forward vehicle departed without its equipment: fortunately the driver also was in good spirits.

Journeying on, up through the Hummocks, we had a fine view of a portion of the coast, although this part is very dry type of country. We noticed the mail from Nantawarra (an old "T" model Ford) doing her best to beat the railcar to the siding, and of course "Lizzie's" reliability, which has made her famous in the past, eventually saw her through. At a point, several miles out from Port Wakefield, we turned off on to the Coast Road, as it is known. This road turned out to be something of an eye opener to all members, as a further account will show.

We journey along the water's edge for practically all the way to Ardrossan. Passing through Port Arthur we noticed several caravans and tents as here many campers seemed to want to come to be just near to the sea and spend many hours fishing or enjoying the general easy-going attitude that goes with holidays. One must bring all supplies such as water and food etc., as this small beach has not the facilities for obtaining these.

Clinton, which is a little further on, is one of those parts where one can pull up and feel that the good-will of the locals is always extended to any passing through. We always noticed this attitude to any tourists where ever we went, information regarding roads, camping, or any thing for one's comfort was not too much trouble.

Port Price looms large on the horizon, with its large dumps of salt, which always have a fascination for those not used to the processing of our common salt. A young, member of the party was heard to say, "She would certainly be a hell of a large shaker to hold that, Mum", as these clumps were chains long and many feet high. . Calling at the local "pub" after six, we realized that our liquor laws certainly need an overhaul. A farmer coming in for a drink after a hard days' work, is breaking the law if he has a drink after six, and lays himself open to a fairly heavy fine.

Tourist traffic will never be encouraged while we have such absolutely out-of-date laws. Some members of the party were inclined to "sign on" to get a drink, this seems to be the only method for an easy way round. The road winds around inland slightly after leaving Port Price, and the blue sea is hidden from view by the mangroves etc., and although this is only the beginning of the Coast Road, we find the surface exceptionally smooth and wide, and well graded.

Ardrossan is next on the list and is really the first town entered of any size this side of the Gulf. One notices many thousands of bags of wheat and barley stacked all over the town and in normal times, these must amount to some hundreds and thousands. We could not figure out why this cereal was stacked so haphazardly, as a large quantity would have to be handled so much, as same was far from the wharf. Here, as usual, the party soon started to explore the town and seaside. Firstly, the wharf and jetty attracted our attention. The rise and fall of the tide is 13 feet, and here one finds the sands are red, which is in contradiction to the usual sea sands. This is caused through the high cliffs which are of red clay, and reach down to thp water and of course making such a colour inevitable.

On the end of the jetty, the sea bed has been dredged to take oceangoing vessels to load grain and top up later at the deper ports. To stand on top of the cliffs and look out over the beautiful blue of the sea with the morning sun shining, is a sight many land-lubbers are very delighted about, and one could hear many compliments in this direction. The cliffs are about 80 to 90 feet high and this brought some very unsavoury remarks from one member of the party who had a mother-in-law complex. One look over the edge, and he said "A bonzer place to bring your sleepwalking mother-in-law," certainly hard on the old "battle axe", but he was inclined to think this reference mild, as he preferred to call her the old "battle cruiser", as she opened out on all sides when annoyed. The writer, being blessed with an extremely docile, well mannered and helpful mother-in-law, does not care to include his own views on this vexatious subject!

Ardrossan is well laid out with wide, well-drained streets, and certainly is inviting on first appearances and possesses good service stations and iepair facilities for any who need or choose to use same. A large amount of the districts goods are carried to and fro by boat and this morning the wharf was very busy and of course, interesting to those who have spent much of their time inland.

To be continued


Thu 10 Oct 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

Readers will recall in a recent issue the commencement of an account of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsular by a party of local residents. In the first instalment we journeyed with the travellers from Balaklava to Port Wakefield and thence along the Coast Road to Ardrossan, at which point we pick up the thread of the narrative.

All export goods, including cereals .are carted down the cliff to the wharf by motor lorry, then reloaded on to small rail trucks and taken down the jetty to be unloaded at the ship's side, before transhipment, and one wonders when the process will end. During the summer months fishing is very popular, and at low tide, one jmay see almost any type of small craft lying high and dry on the beach. One enterprising fisherman had made a boat from galvanized iron and, owing to her hollow bulkheads, guaranteed her to float in any position. This craft appealled strongly to the poorer sailors in the party.

We said goodbye to Ardrossan in brilliant sunshine, and for the next hundred miles travelled high above the ocean on the cliff edge. The glorious reflections and tints of the sun on the sea seemed to reflect the high spirits of the party, as the younger members engaged in much banter. We passed, an up-to-date grader, and envied the driver, his constant view of unlimited grandeur during his day's work. The traveller cannot resist giving these chaps a friendly wave, or stopping to have a yarn, as a mark of appreciation of their work, which has resulted in fine roads extending in every direction vastly different from those in our own district. Good roads mean goodwill and greater tourist attraction, and one tends to assess the enterprise and initiative of a district by the state of its roads. After seeing such outstanding efforts here on Yorke Peninsula, one realises that greater pressure for improved roads should be exerted in our own district.

At this time of the year, the country, which produces large crops of barley, seemed fairly dry. Bushy mallee and small tree growth extended right down to the sea, and here and there one noticed a caravan or car parked at a suitable place so that all could enjoy the fine scene, sometimes from as high as two hundred feet above the sea. The caravan, which has been greatly improved in recent years, is one means of travelling in comfort. We inspected one, which had a shower, a special lavatory, an electric lighting set, and a good old-fashioned beer pump for bringing water from low-level tanks. The sight of this pump, bearing an old monogram, caused a certain amount of mouth-watering on this fairly dry day, and some mumbling about the beer shortage.

We noticed several signposts along the road, pointing to "Port Julia" "Moolawurtie" and "Pine Point" "We visited all of these, and what delightful little places they proved to be! Some were revealed after travelling through very thick mallee scrub, whose green mingled with the varying shades of the ocean's blue. These small, humble ports were very homely places, and all carried the inevitable stacks of cereals, which I reflected the prosperity of this drier region. In these spots, many campers on the water's edge seemed to be there mainly for the enjoymen of old Sol's pleasant rays, and of bit of fishing. Some were farmer from nearby areas, who loved their environment and seemed contentet with a holiday not far from home— a remarkable tribute to their fine tourist paradise. This is the writer's personal opinion, but it is shared "by many others.

Back on the main road once again we were to enjoy an experience both unusual and very exciting, if taken as the younger members accepted it. Large canyons or gullies go down to the sea, and the road passes through ; these apparently regardless of depth. Here one finds all the thrills of the "Big Dipper". These gullies, taken at forty or fifty miles per hour, are equal to the best of the "Dipper", The outlaws of the party, in a modern car, tried then at higher speeds, but one attempt by the writer convinced him that he'd had all that could be desired for a motoring thrill. The youngest members of the party, among much squealing, calmly urged "Give her the works again, Pop !" which Pop did, much to his own and their amusement. Many of these "dippers" are encountered between Ardrossan and Port Vincent; the car ahead disappears from view, to arise not many hundred yards ahead. I will say to any doubting motorist "Try them yourself under the same conditions".

As we drove along the water's edge a grand panorama unfolded itself. The sun was overhead, the waters of the gulf perfectly smooth, and the fishing ketches and smaller craft just moved before a slight breeze, Emerging from a group of trees just off the coast, we had a sudden view of red-roofed houses, delightful blue sea, fishing cutters and motor-boats —a grand little settlement, perfectly situated several hundred feet below us. It was Port Vincent. Coming down into this lovely little bay I was struck by its superb beauty, while the youngsters commented on the lovely beach. The town is entered on what one might term a marine drive or parade, and as we drove slowly along, we were practically at the water's edge. At an unusual little cafe, elevated by piles on one side and built at street level on the other, we could order refreshments from the car. Or we could walk through the cafe to the beach, and practically eat an afternoon tea on the water ! The small fry were almost outlawed by the proprietress | because of their whoops of delight, and climbing up and down the steps to the beach, a few feet below. The lady in charge did everything possible to help the party ; one or two hungry members started a sandwich—eating competition, and were constantly gaining on the staff of the establishment. The Hotel Ventnor situated on the water-front, is, I believe, the only one in Port Vincent, and at this time of the year was completely booked out.

Immediately adjoining the cafe is the camping ground,. where many varieties of vehicles, tents and caravans were seen. Among them were several Balaklava identities securely entrenched; the business section of the home town seemed to be particularly represented. The area of the camping ground is too small for the large crowd, and such a place could have a ground twice its present size. We all realized that here was one of the best opportunities for large-scale development in tourist traffic in the State. I have camped in the fine park at Mount Gambier, when two hundred caravans were accommodated, so can speak from experience. Such facilities as electric power, hot and cold showers, decent lavatories, and effective control of general hygiene are urgently needed ,and must soon be the order of the day. Tourists can help by making the best of the existing conditions, as too often one sees exampies of downright abuse of public utilities.

The sea was exceptionally calm and of a very deep blue, and I could not help but notice the large number of various kinds of craft moving about—pleasure boats, dinghies, fishing cutters, and the inevitable small motor boats and launches. Port Vincent is only forty miles across the gulf from Port Adelaide, and many sailing parties travel to and fro in this direction. Christmas and New Year's Day always produce many gay scenes, when amateur, as well as professional fishermen, try their luck. We told one loical fisherman that many more Balaklavaites hoped to come here in the future, and his comment was "God help the fish'.

To be continued.


Thu 17 Oct 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

Reader's will recall in a recent issue the commencement of an account of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsular by a party of local residents. In the first instalment we journeyed with the travellers from Balaklava to Port Wakefield and thence along the Coast Road to Ardrossan, and last week we accompanied our tourist to Port Vincent, at which point we pick up the thread of the narrative.

During different sojourns at Port Vincent, we noticed the late John Gilchrist, who was well known to the members of the party, and who will always be remembered for his pleasant manner, and his enjoyment of the seaside holidays. Mr. Roy Metcalf, Mr. Bob Bansemer and Mr. Frank Cox were also observed to be on deck whenever the fish were there in abundance. Amongst the many others enjoying this sunny seaside resort were Mr. A. C. Fraser and family of Halbury, and Mr. and Mrs. L. J. Sires, of Kybunga. Two gentlemen who could hold their own anywhere at depleting the supply of sea food, were Messrs. Roy Anderson and Fred Nenmann of Halbury. Doubtless there were many others from this district who were there at the time, but we did not see them.

Port Vincent township is not a large place, but one can spend many happy hours on its beach, or in fishing, yachting or outboard speeding on its calm blue waters. One member of the party, gazing casually over the side of the jetty, remarked, "They certainly have some nice-looking girls here, Bill" whereupon Bill admitted that here one saw as many well-proportioned lasses as at any beach in the state—but we can't disclose all of his remarks !

Murray and Keith East, sons of Mr. Jack East of Balaklava, accompanied the writer on a tour of the Peninsula, and proved to be excellent company, and thorough fun-loving cobbers. Here I may mention that the enterprise of the firm of East Bros, of Mallala was much in evidence at practically every port and wharf which we visited. This wellknown firm has done quite a reasonable amount of pioneering in the development of Yorke Peninsula.

One very sunny morning the usual restlessness which urged the party to be on its way once more, seemed to possess everyone, and so we said farewell to Port Vincent, hat lovely little town with such vast and promising tourist possibilities. We travelled again over smooth, wide roads, above the level of the calm sea, towards Stanbury, another point of interest on our ever-widening horizon. Between these two towns is the Adelaide Cement Works. One could spend several hours here, particularly if one were as mechanically minded as a few members of our party. An open cut, approximately 200 feet deep, has been developed. The limestone is hewn and blasted out in large quantities and handled by huge shovels and excavators. The worker who operated one of these enormous caterpillar-propelled machines attracted much attention from the party. All admired the ease of manner with which he handled the great machine. The open cut comes right to the edge of the road, and it was greatly extended during the war years. The factory being situated on, or in, the water, we presumed that its products were shipped further afield, as I believe the completed product is not turned out there.

Even the casual tourist cannot help but notice the large stacks of limestone which have been heaped in this part of the Peninsula since the pioneers came to these parts. We saluted the early settlers for their fine work in removing limestone from the land in order to facilitate its cultivation. One hears so much these days from the efficient young farmers on the Peninsula or anywhere else for that matter) of what they have done, and how the "Old Man" at first distrusted tractors and power-driven machines. But they, like the writer—an extremely young farmer who is reluctant to admit too much to "Dad"—have to give credit to our fathers and forefathers who laboriously removed this limestone by hand, and in horse drawn vehicles, so that we who came after, could live more abundantly.

The country around here is fairly dry, talthough it seems to produce large quantities of our most urgent need today—food. These toilers of the soil are further handicapped by being somewhat isolated and at such a distance from the Adelaide market.

I have remarked several times on the vivid blue of the sea, which, in a hundred miles along the coast, did not vary, but as much of the journey was undertaken under ideal weather conditions, this may explain the ever-present blue.

As we approached Stansbury we noticed that the cliffs were gradually becoming less steep. We found Stansbury a pleasant little town, and drove practically on to the beach under shady trees, feeling that we had every reason to tell others that these enterprising little towns are worthy of a visit at any time. There is a butter factory near the sea, and there are facilities for fishing, but particularly there is the invitation of the people of Stanbury to come and enjoy yourselves.

To be continued.


Thu 24 Oct 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

In preceding instalments of this account of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsula by a party of local residents, readers were taken from Balaklava to Port Wakefield, thence along the Coast Road to Ardrossan and Port Vincent and on to Stansbury, at which point we again take up the story:

"Stansbury was one of the most soaked places during the summer rains early this year, 9 inches being registered. A schoolboy remarked to his mother: "The tide is high this morning ,Mum—and she's all messed up"—this referring to the brown colour of the sea in the vicinity. Stansbury took quite a washing, and was well flooded.

The fine Coast Road suffered from the usual amount of rain, but a recent report from that highly efficient organisation, the R.A.A., stated that this fine scenic way is in the best of order once more.

Here may we pass a comment, on and pay a tribute to the R.A.A. This I fine organisation has been used extensively by members of the party, and covers no less than 24 free or almost free services to motorists. Any touring driver could well be a member of this association, because in it one finds a sense of security, especially when travelling, as kindred associations are found in every State in Australia. We salute the R.A.A. for sterling service rendered us and many thousands of other travellers. The organisation is destined to be one of the greatest friends of the tourist, and will in future contribute even more to the maintenance and improvement of safety on the road, and the encouragement of the use of modern car as a means of first-rate enjoyment.

Leaving Stansbury, we drove on to a tiny settlement called Pickering, Which reminds one of many of the smaller ports, inlets, etc., we seemed to see every few miles. The country here is to use the R.A.A. strip map wording — "Level, through mixed farming lands". These surroundings were pleasant enough, as we travelled onwards, but some-what drier than usual. We emerged rather surprisingly at Coobowie, where we noticed large numbers of sea birds near the local jetty. We were now back at sea level, the tall cliffs along which we had been travelling having gradually decreased in height without our being aware of it. Coobowie was no doubt more important in byegone days than it is now, and here we draw some conclusions, of our own, which do not always conform with the conventional, as we believe that candid personal expressions of opinion make far more interesting reading than the more restrained sort of thing often found in travel books which are seldom read from cover to cover.

At Coobowie the whole party pulled up at the cheery little hotel, and here we received a right royal welcome. "Where do you come from ?", "How is old George over there and many more similar queries put us at home at once, and made us realise again what a small world it is : on our travels, we were continually meeting someone we knew, or answering enquiries about residents of the Balaklava district. The weather being warm, we thoroughly enjoyed our brief sojourn at Coobowieone could, with 'pot' in hand, admire the sea, and observe various tourists wandering around as tourists always do. Young and old alike seemed to be rejuvenated in this salubrious atmosphere.

Reluctantly — and much happier — we set off from Coobowie, and some three miles further on crossed a causeway, over a stretch of water which reaches inland for a short distance. It is quite a sensation to be travelling over the water in this way and the juvenile members of the party showed much delight, almost wanting to jump in — most kids love the water, be it salty, dirty, or even muddy.

Between this point and Edithburgh the short drive is very pleasant, as the road is again rather higher than the surrounding country, and the view across the sea to Edithburgh, with the never-ending blue, and fishing boats with sails catching the breeze, lead one to comment that the Peninsula affords ocean views equal to any.

Edithburgh stands out clearly, the once more-important gypsum works and chimney stacks towering above the skyline. We passed a large family of aborigines near the town, and the dark little faces, shining white teeth, and shy smiles of the children lead one to think that the one-time occupiers of this fine country retain some of their original characteristics, despite the largely degenerative influence of the white man. The children of our party, like children all over the world, were soon exchanging "Good-days'' with their dusky counterparts.

Edithburgh proved to be a very neat well laid out town, with one-way traffic arrangements in the main street, as in Ardrosssn. Three hotels (there may have been more) testified to the town's better days. Halting the cars outside one attractivelooking hotel, we found the bar practically on the footpath, and very much exposed to the public view : after our out-door life, it seemed that we would be very much at home here. Above the door, there was a ram's, head made of crystals specially treated in the locality. According to the barman, these crystals are gathered from adjacent lakes, and are of gypsum or salt cement: after cutting, turning and polishing, etc., they have a gleaming finish which is very attractive.

Lest the reader conclude that members of the party were a thirsty lot, we hasten to state that such was not the case. We visited many hotels on the Peninsula, for two reasons, chiefly: first, from the tourist aspect, and second, to have a friendly drink and learn from a fellow Australian more about that part of our country in which he lived, which information was always most willingly given. In the course of much discussion someone nearly always lost an argument, and had to 'buy' at the next stop ("if supplies were available") as a result. Off Edithburgh, and further down the coast, is Troubridge Lighthouse, which can be seen long before this pleasant seaside town is reached.

At Edithburgh, we saw the end, more or less, of our fine Coast Road, which continues to some extent, but not on the grand scale previously described. If one turns inland (if such a term can be used about the Peninsula) one finds that he has left a fine road only to link up with the excellent bitumen highway which extends from one end of the Peninsula to the other, in the centre, and continues right to Adelaide. Beyond Edithburgh, the maps describe the roads near the coast to Marion Bay, Cape Spencer and Corny Point as trials, etc.

Again in brilliant sunshine, we said au revoir to fair Edithburgh, and drove on to Port Moorowie, a small port with the inevitable jetty, wheat and other cereal sheds, and timber and iron for stacking and roofing this produce. At Moorowie, in the evening, the huge waves and pounding surf leave no doubts as to the power of the ocean, for here it seems unbridled, lashing with unrestricted fury at all objects in its path. From here on, the traveller may see and sense the complete isolation of this southernmost part of Yorke's Peninsula. Much of the area is uninhabited, and one soon realises that here nature in her various moods, unspoiled by man, can really be enjoyed. One member of the party, with, possibly, a thought for future depressions, considered this area one place where creditors would not worry a man. Certainly, if a man wished to disappear from human ken, he would be difficult to locate in this lovely spot. Without the least desire to corrupt anyone's moral code, we could recommend lower Yorke's Peninsula to any couple considering eloping, as an irate father would certainly do some round cursing in his efforts to trace the so-called moderns !

Westward from Port Moorowie, we kept close to the coast, the tracks being O.K. in dry weather, and quite pleasant to motor over. One day, it is to be hoped that wide, smooth roads will cater for tourists, and open up this interesting region. The view changes constantly as one drives along, mallee and low brush mingling with the blue or grey-green of the ocean.

Our next halt was at Marion Bay, and we found Marion quite a lady, too. The bay has a fairly long jetty, and it was a welcome break, after sitting in a car for many miles, to explore this pleasant spot.

Owing to a sudden change in our plans, we were not able to enjoy this marvellous part of Yorke's Peninsula to the full, but all members of our party were convinced that anyone who spent a week or so camping in these parts would always come again.

A little further along the track, Stenhouse Bay presents itself, and from here we could see the Allthorpe Islands, with the lighthouse thereon. This is an interesting spot, as most people who have been passengers on the "Moonta" or "Minnipa" on the "Gulf Trip" know that once the Allthorpes are left behind, much heavier seas can be expected, and naturally the "heavier" passengers dislike this. Which reminded us of a steward on the "Moonta" saying to a very seasick passenger trying to negotiate one of the corridors on the ship, "You can't do that here!" and the passenger's response "Can't I ? Just watch me!"

Stenhouse Bay has excellent harbour facilities, and large quantities of salt and gypsum were awaiting shipment. The wealth of sea-shore beauty makes the place cie to be remembered, with the tall cliffs, the variegated plant life, the spray on the granite rocks making an endless variety of fantastic patterns, all contributing to one's enjoyment.

To reach Inneston we travelled over a rocky road near the coast, almost in the centre of Cape Spencer (which barely warrants the title).

In these small settlements one always finds friendliness, and all the finer virtues of human nature in abundance. Wherever the traveller roams in these parts, he can rest assured that goodwill will be his lot. No tribute could be too high for these kindly settlers in a most isolated part of South Australia.

Production of gypsum and salt constitutes almost the sole employment of the people in this area, several lakes bearing testimony to this. Fish abound off the coast, and many travellers come here for the fishing alone. Our party did not include good fishermen, but even we were able to catch a few. .

Northward again, along the coast, through miles of country where Nature remained undisturbed, we drove on, sighting quite a few kangaroos on the way, and before long we arrived at Corny Point."

To be continued.


Thu 31 Oct 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

In preceding instalments of this account of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsula by a party of local residents, readers were taken from Balaklava to Port Wakefield, thence along the Coast Road to Ardrossan and Port Vincent and on to Stansbury, Coobowie, Edithburgh, Stenhouse Bay, and Corny Point, at which point we again take up the narrative :

"Corny Point, with its large boulders, with the spray rising and falling, the "bridal trains" and so on, provides interesting scenery which can be watched for a long time. Here one marvels at the rapidity with which the geological formations change. There are long stretches of surfing beach, on which the breakers pound with Nature's usual regularity. We could never have enough of this type of natural, unspoiled country, but with improved touring conditions, much of this will assuredly disappear. Nevertheless, tourist attractions will remain unlimited. Here the city dweller can find all the relaxation and peace he needs, providing, of course, that he possesses the usual caravan, or well-organised and thought-out camping gear. This lower Yorke's Peninsula will be even more popular when more developed, and the lazier type of tourist who likes all civilized amenities close at hand, will be seen there in ever-increasing number. At any time, the most fastidious traveller would be well rewarded by a visit to this part of the world.

Leaving Corny Point behind us, we drove on to Hardwicke Bay, a sheltered spot which drew more expressions of appreciation from members of the party. Here the several youngsters frolicked, as they did everywhere the opportunity offered. Their spirits reflected the instinct to appreciate nature everywhere, in every mood, born in them. Children can show many adults that life is always enjoyable, providing a similar outlook in this respect is attained.

Wishing the coastline a temporary goodbye, we travelled inland, for the first time in some 200-odd miles, to the inviting little village (may we say !) that is Warooka. Here we celebrated our "return to civilisation' — as one member of the party put it — in a right royal way. Incidentally, the remark quoted evoked an immediate 'bite' from the barman, who soon quietened the would-be joker with "Where the devil do you come from—Sydney ?" proceeding to explain that Warooka was a very real place. We always enjoyed this kind of banter, and sometimes agitated in this direction, often being amazed at the prolific flow of praise put forward in defence by enterprising local residents. A fine piano on the premises was soon discovered, and many good old songs and ditties revived in typical Aussie fashion. Perhaps Ned Kelly would have mended his ways if he had joined in with a similar gang at his lady friend's hotel! We liked "Warooka on the hill-top" as it were, considering it a reflection of a small English village, and we say to the people of the Peninsula, that there one may find the very essence of friendliness and general good fellowship. We noticed at Warooka representatives of the motor service conducted by Bastins, some of these being wellknown to Balak-ites — Hughie Dunn Bernie Starr, Joe Nicholas and other courteous drivers and members of the staff. In conversation with a passenger who had just alighted from one of the buses, she remarked that this enterprise provided comfortable, speedy and enjoyable travel which left little to be desired—in fact, some of her comments were so complimentary to the drivers that they must be withheld, as they are all married men, and the writer would hate to cause any misunderstandings ! All jokes aside, though, Bastin's service was always highly spoken of by those with whom we came in contact. We were always genuinely interested in Yorke's Peninsula travel services and agencies, because here there are no railways — which probably accounts for the truly outstanding roads. This type of private enterprise could be much [jnore extensively used in our own, or any other district for that matter, but is almost impracticable by reason of bureaucratic controls and railways, which are a State monopoly. The writer has had considerable experience in road transport, and says to all on Yorke's Peninsula "Put the screws on your M.P.'s — Federal and State — damned hard". There were many stories, particularly during the war years, of injustices inflicted on travellers and travel facilities, and one may recount here the tale of the farmer who wished to shear a few hundred hoggetts, and wrote to the Liquid Fuel Control Board applying for the additional fuel required to do it. After the usual delays he was informed that the Board was not aware that pigs were ever shorn at all! I myself have experienced similar bungling from this highly bureaucratic body, and incredible incompetence has been shown me by some of the officials there. Such comments as the foregoing may seem out of place in an account of a tour ist trip, but they are the result of our own findings after conversations with a great many Y.P. residents, whose definite views on such 'mattes left no doubt as to their sincerity.

Leaving Warooka (taking with us many pleasant memories) we headed for the extremely enterprising centre of Yorketown, where we found an excellently laid out town with fine, clean streets. One of the party recalled pre-war days, when Yorketown by night, presented quite a metropolitan atmosphere. Many fine shops and very up-to-date business premises evidence the support this town must receive from its people and the surrounding district. Perhaps we could recommend (and with out prejudice) that some of the business men of Balaklava, and members of the Balaklava District Council too, tour this area, because prosperity per capita on Yorke's Peninsula must be far in excess of what it is in the Balaklava district. I make this comment firmly believing that Balaklava is at the threshold of a great future, should we residents only wake up and be modern.

One sunny afternoon, strolling through Yorketown's streets, we were delighted to find a gathering of elderly men, mostly retired farmers or townspeople. These assemblies appeared to be customary, and these friendly elders, seated in small groups in some of the pleasant, shady spots which abound here, frequently recalled old times, and were never afraid to air their views on current events, with pride in their own town and achievements always to the fore. The party spent some time shopping here, and received courteous and first-class service from ail concerned. This town certainly caters for its own community and the public in general, and an example of this was given by the efficient work done by one up-to-date garage to repair a small but annoying break-down. Yorketown enterprise need have no fears for the future if service such as we experienced is maintained and extended.

"Bill', of Port Vincent, was again on the war-path with his opinions of local feminine pulchritude, and as the party included one or two others with the same roving eye, I chanced to overhear, among the usual spate of complimentary remarks, "That one must be a cousin to Venus." Personally, I would like to agree that the number of splendid examples of young Australian womanhood augurs well for the future of Yorke's Peninsula, and doubtless many servicemen returning to these parts after an absence of many years, much of the time amongst colored peoples, found the local scenery very easy on the eye. I may add that these are my own comments, and not included under "pressure" from others in our party. It is of course for other travellers to form their own opinions on these subjects.

We spent many more pleasant hours in Yorketown (which could be called the capital of Yorke's Peninsula). much to our benefit, but one fine afternoon we again heard the call of the open road, ancl set off along the main road to Adelaide, a fine highway with a smooth bitumen surface."

To be continued :


Thu 21 Nov 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

In preceding instalments of this account of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsula by a party of local residents, readers were taken from Balaklava to Port Wakefield, thence along the Coast Road to Ardrossan and Port Vincent and on to Stansbury, Coobowie, Edithburgh, Stenhouse Bay, Corny Point, Warooka and Yorketown, at which point we again take up the narrative.

Taking the Adelaide road from Yorketown, your narrator and his companions then travelled inland for some miles, and because of the flat slightly undulating nature of. this country, many varied and pleasing views were presented. Farmlands, evidence of pastoral pursuits, blue seascapes, native scrub, and occasional seagulls, though common enough in themselves, are just a few of the sights that charm the traveller on his way. Mail bags and boxes along the road reminded us of the Victor Harbour — Adelaide road, although the numerous names and inscriptions were missing. One might here recall some of these names — during the construction of the Goolwa Barrage, the writer spent some lime there, and such names as "Hotazell", "Cosyasell" and even "Coldazell" could be seen in close proximity to each other. Another name was "Gundagai Man", reminiscent of the famous "Dog on the Tucker Box" vand many others too, could be mentioned were it not for my fear that the censor might step in if they were.

More delightful travelling brought us to Minlaton, a centre where private enterprise and individual initiative are found to a very marked degree. Like other Peninsula towns, Minlaton has adopted a one way traffic system, and in the centre of the roadway, gardens and shrubs in seasonal variety bloom according to Nature's order, to be admired greatly by all passing by. The Town Hall is an outstanding modern building with curved instead of square external walls : when we saw it on this occasion, it was lit with a profusion of colored lights. Over here, people laugh at power restrictions, for they are well provided for with their own highly efficient, well-cared-for power stations, in definite contrast to areas served by soulless monopolistic enterprises. But more later concerning our visits to power houses.

Strolling down Minlaton's main street, we entered into conversation with many local and district residents, for this day was "Sale Day," and the town was crowded. It is an education in itself to meet many of the intelligent citizens of this fair town, for one hears many new aspects of various problems of the day. One person in particular we well remembered for his forth-right opinions on Transport and Liquid Fuel control, these subjects being like red rags to a bull to most people on the Peninsula, because of the full scale on which road transport is used, and had there been an inspector from one of these Boards anywhere within fifty miles at least, his ears must have been burning! The writer has had the experience of a prosecuting inspector who had the audacity to try to sell him oil while representing a firm, after having taken certain action whilst under Government protection. This type of citizen could most certainly sell icecream in Hell and do a roaring trade in heavy fur coats at the same time.

To get back to our subject once more, the Peninsula folk have done a grand job under endless restriction. The shopping facilities in MinInton are very comprehensive, and we were always able to buy something out of the ordinary or of value as a souvenir. Despite the widespread shortages, we would occasionally see, in the various towns through which we passed, something which would be unobtainable in other places, and on each occasion the feminine bargain-hunting instinct manifested itself as it always does.

Minlaton can be recommended to all, not so much because it is a friendly town, but because, although not large, it gives the distinct impression of doing a large volume of trade in spite of the proximity of other towns: it must have many times the opposition that Balaklava has, as a business centre.

Enjoying Minlaton's goodwill, we strolled further afield, and noticed a number of lawns, including a very fine bowling green. Mention of such facilities in other towns described, has been omitted, but Minlaton was found quite outstanding for its fine efforts to cater for young and old a like.

To sum up, Minlaton is neat and very clean and tidy, reflecting the finer virtues of human endeavour and enterprise, and probably the fullest co-operation' between the public and public bodies generally. We farewelled Minlaton with the sentiments "Carry on your excellent work, and make your fine little town even better, particularly from a tourist point of view — you will see many of them in the years to come."

On the road once more, through varied scenery, we gained the impression that the season at the time was a little dryer than usual. We were still following the fine bitumen road, and after a few more miles, headed again towards the sea. After a dozen miles or so, we encountered large sandhills (of white sand) close to the coast proper, this area bearing a marked similarity to some parts of the South East. We spent some time in this somewhat wild country, and the youngsters spent many happy hours climbing 60 or 70 feet up a steep sandhill to tumble down to the bottom with loud yells of delight. Even some of the older members of the party were encouraged to join in "Mum's" comments about "sand in the young fry's hair, sand on the car seats, sand in the sandwiches" and so on were at least heart-felt. However no one seemed to be much put out — where ever we travelled, our progress seemed comfortable and convenient.

The writer has covered hundreds of miles through Yorke's Perinsula clad only in a pair of shorts, and on many occasions did not even wear shoes. The real beach atmosphere nearly always prevailed, and this will keep contented even the most particular person. We did not include in our number too many of that kind!

Here I do not wish to cast. any reflections on those who prefer to use the "collar and tie" method of travel, because, speaking democratically, every man is entitled to his own ideas in such matters.

Rabbits were fairly numerous hereabout, and a little competitive hunting resulted in a "bag" of about three dozen bunnies. A little further on, we encountered a couple of young fellows who were having a thin time trying to collect a few rabbits, so we turned our bag over to them. "Bill" (of Port Vincent) saying "Take this lot home — you chaps might even get a hug from your mother-in-law !"

On we toured, through very thick and stunted mallee and other native bush, heading for Port Victoria, a colorful and indeed very historical little town — or should we say port? Entering the settlement, the usual seaside town atmosphere was at once noticeable : the surrounding country is fairly dry, but nevertheless the town seemed fairly industrious. From the Port Victoria jetty, some three or four miles out to sea, one can see very plainly Wardang Island, probably the most densely populated small island in many miles of sea along the coastline. On Wardang, there exists a very busy industry established by the Broken Hill Proprietary to supply sand to the smelters at Port Pirie and other parts. This sand is loaded by up to date devices, providing an interesting spectacle for any traveller. Not being too well acquainted with the techniques of our iron and steel industry, the reasons for the use of Wardang sand cannot be explained here (perhaps some reader may enlighten us —Ed.). Wardang has its own school, and, as in most other B.H.P. enterprises, it is convenient and up to date. The writer, himself an old scholar of the Balaklava High School, believes that another old scholar, Mr. Morris Marshall, was at one time a teacher at the Wardang School.

With the motor boat chugging away, the short trip, to Wardang can be very pleasant, especially on a moonlight evening, or a calm day. We were able to enjoy a very hurried visit only, so a fuller account of the Island cannot be given here, but I advise any traveller in this vicinity to thoroughly explore this place should he have more time to spend among its excellent inhabitants.

Few people have not heard about the full-rigged ships which, used to sail the seven seas until the last war put an end to their activities. Some of them now are no more, others are abandoned bulks, a few may yet sail again, but the glories of the "grain race" from South Australian ports to Europe appear to have gone for ever. Many of these ships anchored off Port Victoria to load the golden grain for overseas, and many readers will recall the link Balaklava has with one of these gallant ships — the "Hertzogen Cecilie", if my memory serves me right. Years ago Miss Jeanne Day stowed away on her, was eventually signed on as a cabin boy or stewardess, and had many adventures before returning to her homeland.

Wheat was loaded into the big sailing ships from ketches, and the writer remembers seeing a Finnish vessel at Port Victoria very early in the war. One Sunday afternoon some of these strapping Finns came ashore, and as a few of them spoke perfect English, we were able to converse at length. One could not but admire their fine, upstanding physique and their broad outlook. For instance, as I was standing on the end of the jetty one morning, these fellows came along and with the utmost lack of selfconsciousness, shed all their clothes and dived some 20 feet into the water : all appeared to be superb swimmers. The fact that quite a number of our party were of the opposite sex caused the visitors no concern : later they told me that in their own land they generally swam 'in the altogether.' I feel certain that the lady members of our party, broad-minded themselves, thoroughly enjoyed and admired the Finn's outlook. Their physique was typical of the Nordic races, and one could only envy the benefit they enjoyed from such wholesome living. "Venus herself would never have been ashamed to choose a husband from this band."

To be continued.


Thu 28 Nov 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

In preceding instalments of this account of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsula by a party of local residents, readers were taken from Bal.aklava to Port Wakefield, thence along the Coast Road to Ardrossan and Port Vincent and on to Stansbury, Coobowie, Edithburgh, Stenhouse Bay, Corny Point, Warooka and Yorket'own. In the last instalment the author recounted the party's further travels from Yorketown, to Minlaton and on to Port Victoria, where we left him enthusing over Ithe physique of the crews of the fullrigged ships which were annual prewar visitors to this outlet for Peninsula-grown grain. NOW READ ON (as the serial writers have it) :

"Many readers will recall the famous sailing vessels or 'wind-jammers,' their romantic associations, their annual race home to Europe, laden with grain, and the stalwart members of their crews, and I believe that despite war-time losses, we may see them out here again. We salute these magnificent full-rigged ships, which even now never fail to create intense interest among the more modern seafaring men as well as the lowly landlubber.

Port Victoria is famous in its own right for its fishing, and I have seen many large hauls taken here : to see the silvery harvest being taken from the wells of the fishing craft makes an inland dweller's mouth water. Huge schnapper and tons of whiting, snook and garfish, to mention only a few varieties, are unloaded, every day in season, and when the weather holds. I would say that the future of Port Victoria as a fishing centre has much improved possibilities. I believe that there is afoot a large scale move to establish an American type caravan park and other first class facilities for holiday makers. At this news, all who love the call of the open road will rejoice. I predict that vast changes will take place in the areas being described in this series in the next ten years : many more country families will be owning their own caravans, which make it seem as if one is taking his own home around in comparison with present touring methods. I consider the caravan the ideal means (particularly for the country man) of enjoying a much needed holiday. One often hears words of praise for the attractions of cities, but I would say to all of those who like myself gain their living in rural areas, we must make more of our country centres, and take a more active part in their administration, as they are doing here on Yorke's Peninsula. I will mention at this juncture the outspoken comment on our own District Council administration, and the terrible condition of most of our district rodas, one hears day after day in the streets. This is most intended as destructive or damaging criticism, but in comparison with other districts, throughout the whole of the State, the residents of the Balaklava district have cause to complain : it is up to them all to take a much more active interest in local public affairs. I have travelled extensively throughout the State, and could identify some of our local roads blindfold, and I know of many who have complained who will agree with this with a heart-felt "too damned right!"

In Port Victoria one evening we treated ourselves to a view of the local talkies, where we were delighted with the friendliness of the local residents. They certainly put plenty of feeling into their enjoyment of the show. On this particular occasion George Formby in "Come On, George" was the feature film — one well remembered by Balaklava movie goers. Owing to a change of operators, 'George' came on the screen more often than was intended, and the reels became generally tangled, but this did not affect the enjoyment of the patrons one iota : they spent every minute of it in high spirits. It was good to see a British film, with English actors, after the eternal round of Yankee productions with their raucous slang, emphasis on gangsters, rackets and crime generally, to the detriment of the moral standards of our younger generation. It seems pertinent to ask, also 'What is wrong with Australian moving picture talent?'

After an all too short stay in this bright spot, we journeyed further afield, towards the Aboriginal Mission Station at Point Pearce. Once more good roads were the order of the day, and we found also that there is a road right through the Mission grounds, which one can travel throughout providing the living conditions of the natives are not affected in any way by such traffic. On arrival at Point Pearce, we found several streets of houses, all of a drab sameness. Scores of little aboriginal children cast many glances in our direction. The settlement has its own church arid picture Show, which compares with many of the smaller rural centres. Pigs, or pig-raising, seemed to be one of the local industries, and the numbers in evidence we concluded that they must be a mainstay of this colony.

I cannot state the number of residents the Station has, nor the proportion of half-castes (if any), but I can say that, all who were there seemed reasonably happy, and possessed of the characteristic of our black brothers of being able to take life easily, in spite of the present tendency to live as" fast as possible : maybe we will be able to emulate them one day, in this respect.

One forms the opinion that the natives are very well cared for at this settlement, and that it is unlikely that they want for anything. However, in other ways, much could be done to improve the lot of the aboriginals who have survived.: the writer has a strong conviction (not resulting from a visit to Point Pearce) that the Australian aboriginal has not always had a 'fair go,' by any means.

On leaving this area (which, by the way, has a good sea front), we noticed a group of aboriginal children in their birthday suits enjoying a splash in a dam. We stopped for a while to speak to them, and I guessed that the eldest would not have been more than four years of age. They were all good swimmers. Our own young fry were delighted with the sight of these darker versions of themselves, although the swimmers were rather shy.

Travelling inland once more, wefound the country somewhat dryer than usual, but nevertheless interesting, as in any part seen for the first time. A little later we again found ourselves on the Adelaide road, and were soon greeted with a large sign bearing the inscription "Municipality of Maitland." Passing along a tree-lined road-way, we made a slow entry into Maitland, another of the many fine towns of Yorke's Peninsula. Maitland could be termed the capital of Yorke Valley, if such a term coujd be used: and use it we did, to find several local residents wholeheartedly agreeing with us. It is something of an eye-opener to discover how proud Yorke's Peninsula residents are of their respective towns. Maitland is not a large town, but its compactness is a creditable feature. Very wide main streets and good shopping facilities are impressive, and to all appearances the centre is growing rapidly in size and importance. We took particular notice of recent tree-planting efforts, which, in spite of a dry season, promised well.

Huge stock transport vehicles were halted in the streets, and were evidence of the efficient and speedy manner in which live-stock can be moved on the Peninsula, and gave proof that modern, well-planned road transport leaves little to be desired. The people behind the private enterprise responsible are to be congratulated, and although such activity is much abused in some quarters, were it less fettered by regulations and other Governmental interference generally, we would all be much happier. Under liquid fuel control regulations, one pays through the nose for petrol, and then some upstart bureaucrat issues instructions as to how it shall be used (often the good old Aussie retort is "Like Hell!") Maitland, being a municipality, and subscribing to a progressive policy, has had an active and at times stormy history of civic progress, according to reports published in district newspapers, of which more anon.

To be Continued.


Thu 5 Dec 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

In view of the statements recentJiy made by the Premier (Mr. Playford), who said that it was the desire of the Government to establish a chain of camping grounds throughput the State, with no little emphasis on Yorke's Peninsula as a tourist (playground, this account of expergences on a tour of the Peninsula is most timely, and of added interest (to those contemplating the exploration of fresh fields.)

In preceding instalments of this account of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsula by a party of local residents, readers were taken from Balaklava to Port Wakefield, thence along the Coast Road to Ardrossan and Port Vincent and on to Stans(bury, Coobowie, Edithburgh, StenShouse Bay, Corny Point, Warooka Yorketown, Minlaton, Point Pearce, and Maitland. Our tourist has more to say in this instalment concerning 'Maitland and its environs before going further afield :

"Maitland has much on which to commend itself, and is a growing town, which should become a centre iof no little importance with the passing of years. It was in this locality that we saw what must have been some of the largest haystacks in South Australia — some of them appeared to be 200 yards or more in "length. "What a hell of a sight for a cocky on holiday" was "Bill's" comment, because we considered that stacking hay was one of the worst tjobs on the land, even when undertaken with the most modern plant available.

Leaving "Maitland with every good wish for its future prosperity and developement, considering the town a reflection of its good local government and the friendly co-operation of its citizens, we heard again the call of the coast, towards which we headed, towards Balgowan, a tiny port similar to many others on this scenic coastline. Our fellow-travellers made many favorable comments on the good roads — here one finds very smooth surfaces, some of natural materials, and others built up. Some very high speeds were attained by the more sporting members of our party, whose opinions made it clear that these roads were safe under all reasonable conditions, being wide and well-cared for. Road maintenance is almost a daily affair, and not an annual, or perhaps five-year event as we see here in our own district. These Peninsula roads create the much-to-be desired good-will of all tourists, and are a true reflection of first class management by local bodies. We passed through small, bush growth, and the usual native mallee, and from the higher vantage points, from which we could look down towards our immediate destination, we were surprised to find such an amazing variety of scenery — the blue sea, and the fishing fleet from old Moonta and Sim's Cove are a delight to all who behold them.

Balgowan is a spot which has been much frequented by many Balaklava people. One of these, the late Bruce Mills (R.A.A.F.), is remembered by most, but particularly by one member of our party, at whose wedding Bruce was best man. Here I will pay a brief tribute to this gallant lad, whose company was always appreciated wherever he went, and particularly when he accompanied some of us to Balgowan in the old days. Mr. Mai. Roberts is another Balaklava resident who spends many of his less busy moments under canvas at Balgowan.

The lonely atmosphere of Balgowan made some of our gang go a little wild, travelling far up the beach, where no one could take offence, and indulging in swimming and sunbathing in their birthday suits : circumstances here made it easy to forget many conventional ideas.

Timber and iron, in large quantities, previously used in covering stacks of wheat and barley, are stored at Balgowan—these endless heaps of material would make people awaiting building permits jump off the deep end of the jetty in despair. One shudders at the temptation that must be offered to many honest citizens in the area, considering that these materials are virtually lying in the bush, and the only inhabitants of the area are a family of aboriginals.

Fishing off the jetty always provides a pleasant pastime, and the sea breeze (which always seems to blow a little more strongly here) invigorates one's outlook — although I doubt if any member of our party needed any assistance in this respect. On many occasions one was in serious danger of a premature ducking. One member of our company made some wisecrack about another "having the energy of an eastern sultan." Must have been the Middle East! These holidays must improve some of the participants quite a lot.

North of Balgowan, the white crests of large sandhills contrast starkly with the very deep greens and blues of the ocean, and further on, Cape Elizabeth offers a standing invitation to travel on — an invitation we seldom had sufficient resistance to refuse. As we were now journeying near the coast, we occasionally took a short hike across the sandhills to explore the beach, and it was after one of these brief journeys that certain members of our party surprised a few of the maidens from a nearby village enjoying, in that solitary spot, an all-out sun-bath : real sun-worshippers believe in doing the job properly, and these lasses were no exceptions. Much restraint had to be placed on "Bill," who was overcome with a violent impulse to give a loud "Hoi": we almost had to tie him down. After all, many of us had at one time or another taken our leisure in this fashion, so we left the ladies to Old Sol's tender mercies, and were soon on our way .once more. A short trip through fairly dry country, and over good roads — described as 'tracks,' we drove on, and in to Moonta, a fine old town, with memories, of its stormy past, its mining activities, and its once large population, and its reputation as the home of our cheery "Cousin Jacks".

Moonta welcomes one right royally, and during our three-weeks' sojourn in this pleasant Peninsula town, the attitude of friendliness to all always prevailed. Typical of this was the answer the outlaw of our party received when he inadvertently asked the local 'Sarge' "Where can we get a bet ?" "How the devil do you expect me to know ?" was the reply.

We found that after having spent only a short time in the town, we were more or less accepted as "locals," and this we sincerely appreciated. As a town, Moonta sprawls in various directions, reflecting the very lively days of a more prosperous past. Many old ruins testify to the existence of the town's better days and the "Cousin Jack" spirit still remains to a very marked extent.

Generally, when halted, we parked our vehicles in a row, presenting a wide variety of conveyances. The cavalcade often caused a fair crowd of local residents to assemble, and such was the case at Moonta. In the resulting discussion on camping grounds, etc., all joined in, and we decided to spend three weeks at Sim's Cove, a tiny, somewhat wild point, virtually in the water, about two miles below Moonta. We eventually arrived at this spot at about 2 o'clock one afternoon, and by 4:30 p.m. the camp site had been levelled off by our energetic male members, seven ! tents erected, fitted with electric light, radio, refrigeration, and a reasonable water supply. A few people who lived here, but working in Moonta or Wallaroo, were surprised, when they returned to their fishing port that evening, to find the transformation that had taken place during their absence. As this was to be our home for the next three weeks, we wasted no time in settling down, and a very homely atmosphere soon prevailed. We had an efficient electrician, two mechanics, and handy men and women in our number, and each did his or her share, while the small fry frolicked on the delightful little beach nearby, or really, about 30 feet immediately below, and reached by steps carved out of the inevitable limestone face, as limestone here is like one's mother-in-law's "good will" — no end to it!"

To be Continued.


Thu 12 Dec 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

(In view of the statements recently made by the Premier (Mr. Playiord), who said that it was the desire of the Government to establish a chain of camping grounds throughiOut the State, with no little emphasis on Yorke's Peninsula as a tourist playground, this account of experiences on a tour of the Peninsula is most timely, and of added interest to those contemplating the exploration of fresh fields.)

In preceding instalments of this account of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsula by a party of local residents, readers were taken from Balaklava to Port Wakefield, thence. along the Coast Road to Ardrossan and Port Vincent and on to Stansbury, Coobowie, Edithburgh, Sten!house Bay, Corny Point, Warooka, Yorketown, Minlaton, Point Pearce, Maitland, Balgowan and Moonta. Bast week's instalment described Bow our tourists made camp at Sims' <Cove, near Moonta in preparation for a longish stay and now that the humming of the engines of their cars has ceased for a while, readers will be able to better appreciate the peace-ful atmosphere described this week.

— Ed.

"Now that our party has firmly established itself at Sims' Cove, I will describe our location in greater detail."

The Cove is almost mid-way between Port Hughes and Moonta Bay, and is a very slight indentation on the coastline, possessing a very fine sandy beach, which is kept very clean and tidy, particularly as regards broken glass, for the fishermen here rarely wear boots or shoes: in fact, I seldom saw them with much gear at all, only when 'uptown.' I believe this small place was named after the people who live there now — about seven houses are situated on top of the cliffs which rise some 60 feet from the beach, and in these the Sims family, three generations of them, now live. They have always been fishermen, it seems. Their environment is an interesting change from the viewpoint of a man on the land, and to spend an hour or two yarning about various aspects of the life is an edifying experience. They are justly proud of their calling, and in support of stated facts could produce cuttings from local newspapers which left no doubt concerning the issue (more of this later).

Excellent bathing facilities by day and night are afforded here, the rise and fall of the tide being very small. During our stay here, very high tides — about 6 feet at the outside — occurred twice, and then in the early morning. A small breakwater, erected by an earlier generation, protects a small portion of the Cove, and sometimes the dinghies are moored in its shelter.

At about 6 p.m. on the day of our arrival, after we had all settled down well, the first of the local fishermen arrived home: he was Ross Sims, well-known hereabouts, and to many readers of the "Producer." Ross had a large haul of schnapper, and I weighed some of his catches: one specimen weighed 27 lbs. To see these large fish, especially when they are swimming in the well of a boat, and to see the struggle necessary to get them into the dip net, is very good fun to the land dweller.

Our evening meal that night was one we really enjoyed, and in my opinion some members of our party looked a little 'heavy', and seemed to walk slowly, etc.:, perhaps my readers can themselves imagine how one feels after a large meal of fish — and I say large because the amount consumed around our camp would make many inlanders furious. The quantity of fish here was like water on Niagara Falls — literally tons of it.

Our cooking was carried out on a communal basis, one member cleaning, another cooking and a few 'hanging around' making the usual nuisances of themselves, and sharing fully in the customary banter.

The following morning we were awakened by the local residents, who at about 5:30 a.m. were setting about the day's work. Based on my own observations, and with all respect to the gentlemen concerned, I will describe their routines.

Each man owns a dinghy or two, a, net boat or sometimes a larger craft, and occasionally a cutter for winter work or special tasks. They row in the dinghy from the larger craft to shallow water, and when the tide is sufficiently high, bring the larger craft as close inshore as possible to unload the fish with the maximum of ease and efficiency. I found the process of unloading baskets of whiting, garfish etc., very interesting and not without pleasure—when one is standing in fish literally feet deep, and recalls the scarcity of fish inland, the contrast is most marked. The baskets are filled to the brim, and then carried up the ramp or steps previously mentioned to the spot where the buyers are awaiting their arrival. The buyers weigh the fish, and are on the job most evenings, with large trucks, etc., to transport the silvery harvest to the various retailing points.

I will mention the members of the Sims family in the order in which we became acquainted with them: although they may not be wellknown in the Balaklava district, their background ensures them a large circle of friends, in other districts, who will be pleased to hear more of them. -

Ross Sims is recognised as one of South Australia's best fishermen, and his father, Ben (as he is known everywhere) has proved- that cbmmercial fishing is quite an interesting and remunerative pastime, or work (it seemed more a pastime to us!). Ross and Ben once secured a haul valued at £1,100 in one day, and this fact has been reported in many local papers, including the "Recorder" at Port Pirie, where the catch was unloaded. This event took place about one or two years ago, and I believe that one Balaklava district resident was present on the occasion.

Most of the sea-going craft are fitted with various types of motors, from small outboards to powerful multi-cylinder jobs. On several occasions, the mechanics in our number had busy times doing repair and fitting jobs to some of these power plants, these actions doing a lot to cement the goodwill existing between us all. I would like to record here our appreciation of the "ways in which all at Sims' Cove Cove helped to make our stay so pleasant. The whole population treated us as fellow community members, an attitude we never abused, and which we tried to repay in any way possible whenever the opportunity offered.

Again referring to matters mechanical, ive found our fishermen indifferent mechanics, preferring to know their own calling fully, and leave even minor repairs to someone else. To modern farmers, this seemed a striking comparison: presentday 'cockies' have to be first-class mechanics, more or less, as necessity dictates, and even the maintenance of modern plant is improved by va good training in general principles.

The fishing industry has as many varied tasks as any other, and I will describe some of them, as they appear to the land-lubber, in order of ing we noticed Perce Sims, the snapper specialist and his father (usually called "Uncle" by the gang) making seaward, and as there was a standing invitation to accompany them, two of our party went along too. The fishermen sail out to sea for several miles in a day, and then apparently anchor over a school of schnapper or other fish, the position being fixed by observation, prior knowledge, a sixth sense, or radar, for all I know. To see one of these large reddish fish on the end of your line is something of a thrill, and one realises that "the one that got away" constitutes a helluva loss. The schnepper (or is it snapper?), like all large fish, puts up quite a fight. Sometimes a 10 feet or 12 feet shark will take a line, fish, hooks and all practically out of one's hands: these wicked prowlers crop up occasionally but the fishermen treat them as part of the day's work. Seeing a shark snap at anything, the sight of the formidable array of teeth makes one wonder how so many people live after being attacked by one of these monsters.

If the weather holds and the fishing is good, the fishing boat is out at sea practically all day. The snapper (or schnapper !) are kept alive until the return to the shore by being placed in the well of the boat: the well is, in other words, a section removed from the bottom of the boat, amidships, with a grating at the bottom to prevent the fish from escaping. With any sort of a catch at all, the well presents a pleasant sight as the boat is chugging homeward through the blue sea, and one can see the day's catch swimming along with one.

On reaching home, many a tussle takes place when the catch is being transferred to the dinghy, the large fish twisting and turning until finally landed, when they are gutted and placed in the baskets. These baskets are similar to "Mum's" clothesbasket, except that a lid is provided, and I can remember one member of our party putting some old baskets to many uses, some of which it would be impossible to describe, so I'll not attempt it here !

Despite the apparent ease with which our mentors seemed to catch fish, we were all convinced that the fishing industry needs experienced men to ensure success. I suspect that many individual secrets are used, as most of our fishing friends seemed to have developed their own particular methods.

Perce Sims, previously mentioned, is an extremely clever lathe operator, and particularly so when making model aeroplanes and small epgines, etc.: he also casts some of the parts required. I have seen him go to work on a block of cast iron and another of brass, and turn up crankcase, carburettor, piston, cylinder and the other gadgets necessary to make the models function. Perce's initiative and ability has to be seen to be believed, as I cannot do full justice here to such enterprise.

And so ends this instalment of my narrative. In the next, I have more to say about Moonta, Wallaroo and Kadina.


Thu 19 Dec 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

(In view of the statements recently made by the Premier (Mr. Playford), who said that it was the de.sire of the Government to establish a chain of camping grounds through out the State, with no little emphasis on Yorke's Peninsula as a tourist playground, this account of experiences on a tour of the Peninsula is most timely, and of added interest to those contemplating the exploration of fresh fields.)

In preceding instalments of this ac.count of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsula by a party of local residents, readers were taken from Balaklava to Port Wakefield, thence along the Coast Road to Ardrossan .and Port Vincent and on to Stansbury, Coobowie, Edithburgh, Sten..house Bay, Corny Point, Warooka, Yorketown, Minlaton, Point Pearce, Maitland, Balgowan and Moonta. Then our tourists made camp at Simms' Cove, near Moonta, and in the preceding instalment, the Cove, its inhabitants, and their occupation were fully described. This week we are told more about the three towns of Moonta, Kadina and Wallaroo.

"Moonta can provide the tourist with many and varied entertainments.

The more sedate people, such as our bowlers, croquet players and so on, can disport themselves on one of the best equipped greens — as far as , night play is concerned — I have seen, particularly in the country. These greens are set, very conveniently, on one of the squares of the town, and are a source of pleasure to all who use them, as many a Balaklava bowler can testify. We used to drive up to Moonta from our Simms' Cove camp every evening for our usual icecream and cool drink, and the hot evenings passed unnoticed and pleasantly when spent in these restful green spots.

Three large hotels serve Moonta in the usual way, and they seem to be able to cater for all requirements, Beer was in short supply at times, and occasionally one was forced to endure the usual swill sessions caused when pubs open for an hour only each evening — a state of affairs repulsive even to the hardened toper. When will we be blessed with a more democratic outlook, and with the dismissal of the puritans and wowsers who tax our pleasures to the utmost — our new cars, refrigerators, washing machines, vacuum cleaners and so on — all downright necessities by modern standards of living, and in the 'Pursuit of Happiness' so often mentioned in the lip-service of our so-called 'democratic' statesmen; a little study of our political and economic set-up makes this present state of affairs even more abhorrent to the normally intelligent.

Moonta is also well able to cater for all church-going tourists, many fine churches reminding us of the town's more prosperous past. Large schools, both primary and secondary, are also well in evidence. Large dumps, comprising the residue of many years copper mining operations, and around the town the ruins of old buildings built in Moonta's hey-day, bear more mute testimony to past glories.

A large munition works, closed at the time, were typical of the unequal share in industrial hand-outs the country always gets, and the continued disuse of the plant ought to bring comment to local residents, who must wonder why such fine new buildings should remain idle.

This centre has its share of parks, and the central square with the Town Hall, complete with clock, give it an atmosphere of its own: we guessed that in the long ago, this square wa the scene of many gay and stirring occasions, no doubt an integral part of the town's eventful past. Present population is I understand, about 3,000

Just as city's suburbs have their own nomenclature, so do the outlying areas of scattered Moonta. A private bus service serves these parts and also provides transportation to and from Moonta Bay, Kadina and Wallaroo. The main streets here do not compare with other Peninsula towns, possessing very high crowns with correspondingly high kerbs and deep gutters. Many places would be difficult for old-timers or over-indulgent celebraters to negotiate, and one could easily find oneself in the gutter in Moonta. None of our gang, I hasten to add, met such a fate, even on extreme occasions, equivalent, say, to jollification in connection with the funeral of one's mother-in-law!

From our camp at Simms' Cove, we made many trips, both seaward and landward. One day we entered our cars and rolled along a fine bitumen road along the coast, towards Wallaroo. The country hereabouts was rather dry, and chief pursuits appeared to be of a pastoral or agricultural nature. We saw no really good crops- those we did see were very poor this season, and it seemed to me that it would be rare for this area to ever experience a really good season. Hugging the coastline still, near Wallaroo we came upon the huge new alcohol distilling plant, and I will describe this in what detail if i can for the benefit of those interested, particularly from a taxpayer's point of view! This large installation has; as yet not been put into operation, but the main gates bear all the usual notices, bicycle parks and sheds and car parks are provided, lawns and gardens established, and the whole appears in complete readiness to be merely switched to obtain full production. It is easy to imagine a taxpayer's feelings while viewing this particular Government enterprise: maintenance is costing £ 140 per week, as far as I can recall the fig— the cost of it was £425,343, and ures given in Hansard. The various buildings appear to be built of asbestolite or some similar material, and during our stay in the district we heard many estimates regarding the number of homes that could have been erected with the materials used in the construction of this apparently useless edifice. There was a time when we all hoped that some day, perhaps, useful purposes would be found for such a huge outlay, and our confidence in the Commonwealth Government might be restored in part. Faint hope, it seems! I would like to cite this one example to those who are always so ready to criticize genuine private enterprise, in which I believe so strongly myself. We ordinary people are 'sucked in' every day, and the few who stand for a better dealars opposed by many who should have a better understanding of the situation.

Mention of large enterprises brings to my mind the yarn about the Aussie and the Yank travelling South from Cairns. In Brisbane the Aussie showed the Town Hall to the Yank, whose comment was "Decent little model, Aussie!" — going one better than the Digger, as usual. On arrival in Sydney, the doughboy looked up at the Bridge in bewilderment,' and after a while said "Hell, Dig., you beat us here — your kids certainly have bigger Meccano sets than ours do."

The distillery at Wallaroo is situated practically on the sea front, and a pipe line apparently essential for the processes involved, runs right out into the sea. "They did one fine job," commented a member of our party. "So could I," replied another. " with someone else's money!" Sight of these plants invariably draws comment of one kind or another, and all Australians fervently hope that it will not be long before they are put into operation for the benefit of those who paid so dearly for them. At the moment they make glorious roosts for shags and pigeons.

Entering Wallaroo from the seaside frontage, we found the Cresco Superphosphate Works and the railway shunting yards adjacent to the new jetty, strongly built to take the heavy traffic. The old jetty stands further down. The town itself is scattered, and typical of many seaside towns in the State. Proof of Nature's conquest of man-made roofing, the sea air being no respecter of material shortages, almost every building shows effects of corrosion caused by salt.

In the Moonta/Wallaroo district, we renewed our acquaintance with railway and road crossings, non-existent during our tour of the Peninsula to date, and were reminded to take due care at such danger points.

An old town, Wallaroo bears the marks of passing years. The railway line and station roughly separates the northern and southern ends of the town. At the northern extremity is situated the large new hospital, which, being built on rising ground, has a grand sea view. In this spot, the full benefit of sea breezes should be obtained, and these alone should be a tonic to patients. Without doubt, a splendid hospital site.

The town is in the electorate of the Leader of the State Opposition (Hon. R. S. Richards) whose hold there is a strong one, on the evidence of local residents with whom we discussed the point.

A little further on, on the water's edge, we examined the works of the Wallaroo Mt. Lyall Fertiliser Company, a name a few farmers could erase from their memories. From many a farm door-mat, the name stares up at one, and in wet weather, a few holes cut in a super bag will result in a waist-coat very suitable for wearing in cold weather during ploughing time. Ned Kelly would have considered his appearance mild indeed when compared with that of a cocky so attired. The works were very busy, large loads of super being shipped by road and rail as we watched. Farmers used to deliver their wheat here, and back-load with super, Wallaroo being normally a large wheat terminal — I can recall seeing large overseas ships tied up at the jetty, taking on hundreds of thousands of bags of wheat here. Train loads of the precious grain disappeared into their holds, and the various methods of handling the cargo, and inspections of engine rooms, etc. provide a source of interest for all, especially those bred inland. The Fertiliser Works too are well worth an inspection, if one does not mind the proximity of a large amount of sulphuric acid, and the small amount of dust which is always present.

Emerging from a track near the phosphate works, we drove over a mile and a half of perfect beach — North Beach, so well known to hundreds of new year picnickers from a large inland area. Many shacks, caravans and tents testified to the call of the ocean, this beach being a firm favourite with those who appreciate a sun-bake or spine-bash in pleasant, natural surroundings. The beach is a great asset to Wallaroo, and on public holidays particularly, it becomes the playground of multitudes, making up to the town what it lacks in other directions. At the beach end of the jetty, a shark-proof pool controlled by the local swimming club is available to swimmers, and the water is so clear that a diver from the 10 feet or 20 feet board has some difficulty in determining the exact point at which he will meet the surface. The Wallaroo youngsters swim like fish, and watching their antics provides much enjoyment. Youth always adds zest to living, and here we saw no lack of it. In face and form, the local lasses left nothing to be desired, either, but of course, it is impossible to please everyone: it is time to sign off until after Christmas and to use the phrase popular with the travel-talk commentator, we say farewell to Wallaroo, with our 'hard case', Bill, on the warpath as ever, be-rmoaning the fact that French bathers were here conspicuous — by their absence!"

To be Continued.


Thu 9 Jan 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950) Trove

In preceding instalments of this account of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsula by a party of local residents, readers were taken from Balaklava to Port Wakefield, thence along the Coast Road to Ardrossan and Port Vincent and on to Stansbury, Coobowie, Edithburgh, Sten-; house Bay, Corny Point, Waroolca, Yorketown, Minlaton, Point Pearce, Maitland, Balgowan and Moonta. Then our tourists made camp at Simm's Cove, near Moonta, and Ibis nesting place was used as a base for investigations and explorations of the Moonta—Kadina—Wallaroo area, the report of which is here resumed.

"With more attention from our politicians, Wallaroo could possibly be a busy port, because it has reasonable exporting facilities, and favors the decentralisation policy. I would like to see much more of our primary produce shipped from Wallaroo and similar ports. Leaving the town, via the main street, we found ourselves once more on bitumen, this time the road to Kadina, or the "Bay Road" as the locals term it. The country between the two towns is very dry in appearance, but seems to produce good crops, etc. After a few miles had been covered, we had our first sight of Kadina, or rather, the old copper mine dump, which stands out for miles around, particularly from the Balaklava—Kulpara side. We found Kadina, too, an old coppermining town still bearing many signs of bygone days. Kadina is the largest town on Yorke's Peninsula, and also possesses the biggest population. Although the town is fairly old, and as rather wide-scattered; many and varied impressions are provided. We halted first in the town's main streets —in our opinion Greaves and Taylor Streets share the honor. Here we found exceptionally fine and large shops in no small number, and all carrying a splendid range of goods, as our womenfolk soon found out, and with which they 'played hell,' as all women do when confronted with a large display of fashions: one has to admire the capacity the fair sex has for taking notice of, and remembering, such a formidable list. There's no doubt about the female ability in any direction, for that matter—providing the cash lasts! (Careful, son—careful!—Ed.).

Large shady trees make Kadina's Victoria Square an exceptionally fine asset to the district, which can be very hot in the summer. Here we noticed a children's the equipment in the usual neglected state—I say 'usual' because we did find so many such playgrounds (including our own at Balaklava) sadly ; neglected, which state of affairs cannot but have some effect on the future generation. Apparently it is not too much trouble to drill youngsters for military or political purposes, but apathy in providing the means of developing healthy bodies and encouraging an individual outlook which is the enemy of regimentation amounts to downright opposition. I mention this (believing that I have a healthy and broad outlook on most matters, particularly where our children are concerned) because I find that the shadow of Socialistic extremes is riot a fairy story, but a stark reality. The only modern playground I have seen in my travels through most country areas is at Angaston—in fact, it one of the finest in South Australia. I suggest that anyone doubting this statement take a party of youngsters on this short trip from the Balaklava district, and let them pass judgment..

While in Kadina we visited the 'trots.' The district owns a fine new trotting track, which seems to lack no requirements of the sport. Of course, every member of our party had a good day! We all do! Here I wish to make a plea for the poor bookies and all those who get their living from such sports. I wonder who pays the bookies, because we all seem to win (like hell!). Kadina staged a fine meeting, despite a very dusty day (making us quite homesick), and gave patrons a good day's entertainment. A taxi service, result of an exserviceman's enterprise, gave a metropolitan touch, and should be of good service to towns-people. Many such undertakings are gradually making headway in country towns. We commended Mr. H. B. East and Mr. Horrie Ninnes on their attitude towards a Trades School undertaking and similar enterprises which were soon to be established, and which should be encouraged in our own town. All success to those associated with Kadina's progress— their ideas are worthy of every support. Country centres will flourish only when it becomes unnecessary for people to go to the cities for their requirements, or for better standards of living, and amenities—but more of this later.

After spending more time than we could really afford, we left Kadina, and set off on another good bitumen road, through the usual mallee, i.e., on each side of the road, for here, as in our own district, the land has been cleared to bareness. It is hard to understand why more timber was not left in isolated patches, for stock, etc., and to preserve some balance of nature, rather than cause conditions from which man is now suffering. After travelling for a few miles, we turned off the bitumen road, and drove through some delightful country to reach Arthurton. An early morning start means travelling some 20 miles with the vehicles in the shade of the taller mallee, and in hot weather this is a great contribution to one's comfort.

Inland, if so it could be termed, we found better roads, if possible, than the good ones we had enjoyed for many miles past. Exceptionally wide and smooth, one can turn off almost anywhere and find similar roads: the Peninsula excells in this respect.

Arthurton is a small but friendly town, and we pulled up at the local hotel, to find the proprietor an admirable publican—he had no shortages, and did everything possible for our comfort, which we really appreciated, because, in wartime most hotel services deteriorated to a great extent, and it was pleasant, to find one where such was not the case. Here we found two Balaklava residents lined up—Fred. Bridgman and Wes. Duck, en route to Maitland in connection with their duties with the Adelaide Electric Supply Co.

Leaving Arthurton, we headed again through what is called—officially or otherwise—Yorke Valley, and well named too, for I consider it a most fertile part of productive Yorke's Peninsula. I will give briefly my impressions of a 200-mile jaunt through and across this area, taking in Maitland, Curramulka, South Kilkerran, Urania and Kilkerran down to Minlaton and other places. No doubt my references to the Yorke Valley area and various towns, etc., raise a few comments from real Peninsulaites, but nevertheless this is is how it appeared to the writer, who maintains that the area stands to the everlasting credit of all residents there. All over Yorke's Peninsula, one sees fine homesteads and outbuildings, such improvements, I consider, being equal to any in Australia, taken on an aggregate, and certainly far in advance of those in our own district. This is not intended as a criticism, but as a statement of fact which will not be disputed by any who have travelled in those parts. Some of the homes scattered throughout this area would not be out of place in any of Adelaide's swankiest suburbs, and are a credit to their owners. Large or small, many houses had tiled roofs, and were built to modern ideas, and our reaction was "Thank God some country people appear to be enjoying all city living conditions and amenities." On Yorke's Peninsula, I have seen the following ideas. in such frequency that I will describe a few of them— most will be well known to my readers, but still one finds precious few of them in the Balaklava district.

Firstly, visiting one farm, we found a first-class hot water system supplying all members of the household and the households of employes, with outdoor hot and cold showers, which latter I tried, after a hard day's work, and found them excellent. Also seen were an electric washing machine, toasters, vacuum cleaners, cake mixers, refrigerators, irons, etc., all operating on the 32—40 volt current from the humble home lighting plants so often used in our rural areas. The washing machine operated on a 240 volt supply, and was easily converted by the use of another motor—often a re-wound generator from a 6 volt circuit, as in a car. Various firms do this work, the cost being about £4 for a quarter-horsepower motor, so it will be seen that where the means are available, a very handy domestic help can be obtained. Lighting in many homes here is equal to that in the city, despite the voltage discrepancy. Other appliances noted were single unit milking machines, a mangle electrically driven and controlled by a foot switch, electric fans, separators (with h.p. motors and V-belt drive), and, in farm workshops, soldering irons, electric drills, etc., performing well on 32 volts. To cover this subject fully would need separate articles, and Mr. Editor would probably wonder what had happened to our touring. Some homeesteads here have all the amenities mentioned above, and I myself have installed many of them, using the same voltage. It would be pleasing to see more such in our own district, especially to the housewives. Any man who has done the washing in the old-fashioned way, and then watched his wife do the same job with a modern electric washer would never again overlook the usefulness of such appliances. One farmer's wife said that the hardest work was hanging the clothes out to dry, and even this task is unnecessary when a spin dryer is used, although the initial outlay for this machine is fairly high. I would be only too pleased to discuss with those interested, the developements of electrification in country areas, and to help where possible. In my opinion we will have plenty of time to wear out our present, 32 volt plants before our highly Socialised 240 volt supply becomes available on farms—which we hope will be a reality one day, providing that a continuous supply at a reasonable cost is provided.

I asked one very charming young lady her opinion of country life as compared with city life, and she replied to the effect that if amenities like these referred to were properly developed, she would never be anxious to seek a husband in the city (my own conclusion was that she would have no trouble in finding one anywhere!) I trust that many of the fine young women of this type do remain in rural areas, for the hope of more modern trends lies with those who have the out-look, initiative and experience to keep plugging away for them.

As one who has always lived in the country, I could describe in detail all I saw in and around these many fine homes. However, to touch lightly on farm outbuildings, most of these are well constructed, conveniently located, and exceptionally roomy. Of course, there are the less-improved properties, but they are in the minority. Bad conditions on farms are not always the fault of the farmer, as many readers know. Machinery on these farms was generally of recent vintage, and there were many tractors, both wheeled and tracked. Implements such as harrows, combines, headers, etc., were wide, and were able to cover a large area of ground in a day, especially as most of the country here is very level and open. A most noticeable feature was the absence of creeks or gutters on farmland—they were practically nonexistent, this fact enabling the full use of such large machinery. The panorama to be seen in these districts when harvesting is in full swing is a sight which will take a lot of beating anywhere in South Australia, or in Australia, for that matter, and is a demonstration of the most up-todate farming methods.

We found most farmers and particularly their womenfolk well educated and friendly, and generally a highly intelligent people, worthy of engaging in our most important industry, food production.

Many fire-fighting devices were noticed, but, as "at home", really not sufficient.

It is not my desire to 'glorify' Yorke's Peninsula, as one sees the other side of the picture also, but I do believe in paying credit where it is due, and from my observations, these parts can always hold their own when comparisons are made. '

As we resume our travels, we caught many glimpses of the ocean on one side or the other. The proximity of the sea is refreshing to an inland dweller, and the sight of it during a hot day's work must have a cooling effect on farmers here. We passed through Maitland, and then through the small settlement of Agery, which is notable for a recently planted memorial avenue of trees, eventually reaching once more our camp at Simms' Cove, that delightful little spot where cool breezes and calm seas on moonlit nights could produce a most romantic atmosphere. Fish were soon cooking, and we could see the fairly large fishing fleet returning to Moonta Bay, a quite impressive sight. We were always hungry after a day or two on the road, and did full justice to our meal. Ross Simms was in again with a large haul and I remember many times his remark "We seem a few short, Ben"— some members of the party saw to this! Fish used to move remarkable distances for dead ones!"

To be concluded next week.


Thu 23 Jan 1946, The Producer (Balaklava, SA : 1940 - 1950)

In preceding instalments of this account of an extensive tour of Yorke's Peninsula by a party of local residents, readers were taken from Balaklava to Port Wakefield, thence along the Coast Road to Ardrossan and Port Vincent and on to Stansbury, Coobowie, Edithburgh, Stenhouse Bay, Corny Point, Warooka, Yorlcetown, Minlaton, Point Pearce, Maitland, Balgowan and Moonta. Then our tourists made camp at Simm's Cove, near Moonta, and this testing place was used as a base for investigations and explorations of the Moonta—Kadina—Wallaroo area, the report of which is here concluded. In this final instalment, our travellers break camp at picturesque Simms' Cove, and the final stages of this lengthy tour are described.

Before leaving Moonta, we inspected the local power station, a fine, neat unit, then in charge of Mr. G. Bridgman, a brother of Mr. Fred. Bridgman. I congratulate him on his fine management of the station, which supplies Moonta and district with electricity. Kadina's locally owned power station was also well worth the visit I paid it. One noticeable feature at the time was that during the period of restrictions in the use of electricity in Adelaide, the Kadina administration was encouraging their users to light their businesses, and churches and improve all town lighting, to improve the civic outlook. Kadina has a fine batch of well-kept Diesels, and the service seemed to be appreciated by the consumers.

One fine sunny morning, as our barefooted fishermen friends were heading seaward with their usual gear, we said farewell to them all as they sailed out in their various craft, while we, with some reluctance, loaded our equipment and moved out of delightful little Simms' Cove, which will doubtless call us back again to its fine people and ideal atmosphere of fish and sea breezes. We passed on through Moonta Bay, a holiday resort with shacks, houses and a small camping ground, which is gradually being improved to meet the needs of tourists. On a summer evening I have noticed over a hundred cars here, and have wished that more facilities were here to entertain those Who come here. A few fun devices would be a paying proposition and would help to entertain the large crowd of visitors. We enjoyed our evening here among our "Cousin Jack" friends and would have stayed longer had we been able.

On through Moonta, where we bought a few Cornish pasties as a farewell gesture. A mile out of Moonta, we turned homewards through Thrington, a tiny railway siding not far from Paskeville. Even to the last, the roads were still excellent. After turning on to the main road just out of Thrington, we were in extremely good wheat and pastoral country.

Paskeville, a small town 99% on one side of the railway line, was noticeable for its large wheat stacks and road junctions. It boasts an enormous volume of trade and production for its size, and of course never takes second place to any who dare to argue otherwise. The usual Peninsula "at home" feeling is well evidenced here, and we never tired of enjoying local goodwill whenever offered.

Down the bitumen road towards Kulpara, we pass between thick growths of mallee on both sides of the road, which is practically straight for twelve miles. We enter Kulpara, a tiny little place which serves those in the immediate vicinity between Port Wakefield and Paskeville. Here the main Peninsula road turns off to pass through Maitland, and the Bute road heads north from here, from the top of the Hummocks Range.

A mile further on, we stop and look back, for here we say farewell (or should I say "Au Revoir"?) to Yorke's Peninsula—a lovely place with so many tourist possibilities within such a small area. We review the winding coast of the Gulf down to Ardrossan and revive the many pleasant memories which it holds for us all. We salute Yorke's Peninsula—its people, their environment and their progress, and resolve to be back again one day to enjoy its many and varied pleasures.

Winding down through the Hummocks, with a colorful variety of scenery below us, ranging from blue seas to changing colors of the landscapes, we can see Port Wakefield in the distance—a lovely sight in this perfect weather. We make a brief sojourn in Port Wakefield and this time we hear more about its future as a tourist resort, and-of its camping ground. This small town seems to be awake to the possibility of a very bright future which could be its lot, should those concerned take the necessary action to keep its needs before their political representative. (No good having a well-fed horse unless you work him hard.)

On through Bowmans where we stop for a cool one, and meet a few friends on the local railway system. Although Bowmans is not blessed with the best of climates, it could be much improved with some of the attentions which small Yorke Peninsula towns get from their citizens.

After a few miles on the straight surface road, we notice the familiar Balaklava flour mill rising to greet us, and soon enter Balaklava in perfect weather, very different from that in which we left it, when one of those hot, dusty days prevailed. Balaklava has a wonderful opportunity, with its wide streets and triangular park in the business centre, to make greater use of shady trees and green spaces for the comfort of the general public. Generally speaking, here lies a first-rate opportunity for progressive citizens to use their initiative. A centre with such a large amount of general trade should have more to show, in comparison with many other towns I have visited. For many years I have spent a fair amount in obtaining all my requirements from Balaklava, and would with many others, appreciate a better township. Our local government could not claim perfection if it were to compare its roads with any on Yorke's Peninsula. From a tourists' point of view, progress and initiative of a "district are judged to a large degree by its roads, and I found this very true in many of my travels. In all of the two thousand miles I travelled on Yorke's Peninsula, I did not find one mile of bad road in any of the settled areas. I have read time and time again, in many tourist articles in various papers throughout Australia that Yorke's Peninsula possesses the best roads for such a confined area. That bears testimony to her progressive outlook and wideawake attitude to the important and profitable tourist trade. Our local council could broaden its views anywhere in the above area, for we sadly need more progress here (Ask any rate payer).

In conclusion, I would like to say that this article has been written in my everyday language from my own point of view, and I trust some have enjoyed reading it. It has been printed without any undue brushingup by our local Editor. Should any reader care to see Yorke's Peninsula as our party saw it, I will be only too glad to place all information and written matter at his disposal, because I firmly believe that a large amount of our present day ignorance could be dispensed with if we travelled more. Here I hear some say "Too costly! etc." Touring under proper conditions is inexpensive, particularly when one has had a little experience in the matter.

Now, with the compliments of all our party, I will say farewell to our readers, and trust we will meet again through the medium of the "Producer." On the way out of Balaklava we pass the Producer Office and wish the good old paper and its staff well, and hope that progress, supported by all, will be its lot in the coming years. And so, "Au Revoir till next time."