Rare photo of the Brighton

The ferry Brighton had a chequered career. Launched on the Clyde in 1883, she took up service on the Sydney to Manly run. On 7th August 1900, she collided with the collier S S Brunner near the Sow and Pigs reef, on the ferry's last trip of the day to Manly. As a result of a navigation error later ascribed to the ferry's master, the Brunner struck the Brighton just forward of the paddle box, causing water to flood into the torn hull. The ferry's master immediately ran for nearby Chowder Bay and managed to ground her. The photo shows the result of the incident.

Luckily, no one was injured and after repairs the ferry was soon back in service. Our thanks to Lynne Westbury for donating this photo to our collection, and to Bill Allen for help in identification.

John MacRitchie 2011.

Ferry Binngarra

The Manly ferry Binngarra was designed by Captain Christie of Mort’s Dock.[1] She was launched by Mrs A Howie, wife of the chairman of directors of the Port Jackson Co-operative Steamship Company in 1905. The ferry’s average speed in trials was 14 knots. She made her first trip to Manly on 29 October 1905. Her hull was fitted with five watertight bulkheads; the upper deck was open and downstairs was enclosed. She was insured for £23,000. At the time of launch, the Binngarra was the largest steamer built in NSW.
It was calculated that Binngarra ran an estimated 78,279 trips to Manly and carried 30 million passengers over 639,124 miles.
On 1 November 1905, she crashed into the stone sea wall at Circular Quay, dislodging great blocks of masonry.[2] It took the combined efforts of tugs Leveret and Hero, towing for over an hour to dislodge her. In December 1906, the Binngarra collided with the 163-ton Wallaby.
She was sold out of service in May 1933 as a store-ship, and she was towed to Port Stephens with her engines removed. She was requisitioned by the US Navy in WW2 as a cargo-carrying hull in the New Guinea region, and remarkably at this point she came under the command of a Manly man, Mr I MacGillivray-Elder of Fairlight.
He described his emotions at coming across the Binngarra at Dreger Harbour. Her superstructure had been removed, and two tall masts and derricks had been installed. Both propellers had been removed. The vessel now had considerable cargo capacity, and when properly loaded assumed an even keep and rode surprisingly well.[3] She had no anchor windlass. Her armament consisted of four ancient Browning machine-guns. “It was amazing how fond one can become of such an extraordinary ship”, he commented.
The hull was sunk at sea 18 miles off the Heads on 11 December 1946.[4]

[1] Manly Daily 19 August 1971.
[2] Manly Daily 19 August 1971.
[3] Manly Daily 7 February 1974.
[4] Manly Daily 28 October 1981, p22.

Ferry memorabilia

Just donated to our collection is this return ferry ticket. It looks as though it dates from the mid-1950s, and was a promotional gimmick from Woolworths. There can't be too many of these tickets still in existence, particularly unused. Our thanks to Pam Brock for the donation.

Bringing home the bacon

Thanks to Terry Metherell for drawing my attention to an article which appeared in the Brisbane Courier, Tuesday 1 January 1878. Titled “A Queenslander in Sydney”, it is a long piece about the writer’s impressions of Sydney. It includes a description of Manly’s Fairy Bower, then still relatively unspoiled, and there is also this account of the entertainment on offer at Manly on Boxing Day, 1877:
“But, if Christmas Day was calm, Boxing Day was not. Once more the scene shifts to Manly Beach, and we are on the verandah of the Pier Hotel, and the steamers, and the barrel organs, and the German band, and the holiday folks, are coming in: Emu, and Breadalbane, Goolwa, Phantom, and Royal Alfred, ‘one down, 'tither come on,’ come looming round the Middle Head, disgorge cargo and are off again for more in a merry follow-my-leader style. Buckets of ‘prog’ [food], guns, fishing tackle, and babies form the chief impedimenta of the ‘camp followers,’ and a nervous invalid accustomed to the quietude of Cleveland or (say) of Bowen, would be startled out of seven years' growth by the bustling noise and scene... One melancholy death occurred on Boxing Day, at Manly Beach. There is rigged out from the pier, like the boom from the Wolverine, a spar, well-greased; and at the end of it is slung a four-dozen case containing a pig, to be the prize of him who first walks the pole and gets him. After about a couple of dozen spills off the greased spar and into the water, one daring cornstalk [youth] hugged the boom and got the pig out, and it fell into the water, in the clutches of the swimmers, who, in disputing the prize, six at each leg and two at each ear soon drowned it; and, this we believe was the only life lost at Manly Beach during Boxing Day.”

The band on the ferry

In pre-War days on the Manly ferries there used to be a band on board, playing the popular tunes of the day. The following anonymous poem which dates from the 1920s is supposedly by 'an old bandsman who used to come down to Sydney for the Brass Band Contest every year':

I love to go to Manly where the gentle breezes blow
And where the men and maidens in the bounding billows go.
I loved the journey over, it was bonza, it was grand,
As the ferry moved to music from the little German Band.

On the upper deck they gathered, sometimes four, sometimes three
And oh the jazzes that they played, and oh the melodee.
They played the latest numbers heard at the pantomime
And then, the way they played them, Lor’ luv me, it was fine.

Of course you couldn’t hear them from the bottom deck, you know,
Nor underneath the hatches where the courting couples go;
Still, that was but a detail for one would make descent
And offer the collection box no matter where you went!

But now the trip to Manly, with glimpse of rolling sea
With bobbing empty bottles holds never charm with me,
I miss the quaint piano, and the queer asthmatic flute
The double bass and fiddle – why the boat is cold and mute!

I always went to Sydney when contest time came round
For I loved to hear the playing and the waves of rolling sound
And when I wearied sometimes of the masters’ noble notes
I would steal away to Manly and the band upon the boats!

This year I’m doin’ nothin’, the contest won’t see me,
The men that run the show down there and I do not agree -
We sent an ultimatum, and to the Sec. I wrote,
“If you want me at your concert, put the band back on the boat!”