By Kevin in Diamond Creek – the following reminiscences are not necessarily in chronological order.
See also Living in a Brunswick terrace 1940 – 1953 part 1
Living in a Brunswick terrace 1940 – 1953 part 2
Living in a Brunswick terrace 1940 – 1953 part 3
Living in a Brunswick terrace 1940 – 1953 part 4
Cracker night in Brunswick
Once upon a time, guards in London’s Parliament House caught a Mr. Fakes trying to blow up this heritage building with kegs of gunpowder. He was deal with accordingly.
Getting ready for cracker night
On November 5 this event used to be celebrated with fireworks in the 1940/50’s. In the run up to November 5 bonfires were built up on various vacant blocks of land in Brunswick. I remember a large vacant area, on the city side of the Liberty Theatre in Lygon Street, where trenches were dug during World War 2 as a refuge if bombs were falling. This block always had a big pile of burnables for cracker night.
Family fun on our Terrace paddock
The large open area behind our terrace block was handy and ideal for a bonfire with lots of open space. On the big night my kid sisters walloped their tea down to get out and watch Dad fire up our mound of junk. By nightfall my sisters and other local kids were running around with sparklers in their hands and dodging crackling Tom Thumb Bundles and exploding Jumping Jacks lurking on the ground. Golden Rain Sticks would shower the darkness with clouds of orange sparks and Skyrockets would take off from bottle launching pads filling the sky with bursting colours. The sound of yelling kids would be drowned out by a barrage of big hungers deafening bangs.
Poor old dogs and cats
The constant noise of cracker night sent out dog ‘Rover’ into a hideout under our big toilet seat. Our cat ‘Blackie’ vanished for 2 days. A down side of cracker night were the numerous injuries treated at hospitals. Fireworks ended up being banned except for professional operators handling fireworks at public events.
No more cracker nights
November 5, 1953 was the last cracker night in our terrace as my parents had bought a timber house a couple of streets away and bonfires and cracker nights were over for us.
Memories of the Coburg Lake
In my school days and early teens I was a frequent visitor to the Coburg Lake. The site was quarried in the 19th century to provide bluestone for the construction of Pentridge. A nasty scar on the landscape became the scenic Coburg Lake.
Model Boat Pool
The Boat Pool was always of interest with quiet sailing craft on Sunday and smelly, noisy power boats on Saturday. The power boats were tethered to a pole in the middle of the pool and roared around at high speed, if the cantankerous little engines would start. Sometimes they didn’t. Owners stopped their speeding boats by hitting the vertical throttle rod with their hand or letting the fuel run out. Messing around with the boats was done in the water wearing waders.
The Concrete Wading Pool
The concrete wading pool in the lawn was shallow and suitable for the small fry. The water was a clear brown colour but the walls were slimy. One day another kid told me not to go in the pool if I had any sores or scratches from the concrete as they would get worse. I stopped using the pool. Today the pool site is a playground.
The Boat Shed
The Council kept a boat at the lake in a locked wooden shed on the shoreline near the concrete pool. A rough gravel boat ramp alongside the shed gave easy access for entering deep swimming water.
Sitting on the dam wall
A favourite sunny spot for us was sitting on the wall that held in the lakes water. We could swim in deep water, get in and out easily and stretch out on our towels. One day, dangling my feet in the water I felt a mouth close over my heel. I pulled my legs out, fast. I think it was one of the Lakes eels having a taste of me.
The wall gave a great overall view of the lake. Looking down stream we could see the Chinese market gardener pottering amongst his vegie rows. In the years ahead the vegie garden would be a swimming pool.
The Top View
On the street side of the wall big boulders about 8 ft high, lined the shoreline. They made the base for the tall steel diving tower, nearly as high as the Brunswick Pool tower. It was exciting to climb but a terrifying jump. We didn’t and I never ever saw anyone take the leap.
Peeping into Pentridge
The tower was higher than the Pentridge all across the road. We could scan the prison grounds showing vegetable gardens, pastures and a lot of empty nothing. Today it is housing estates. We were also level with the armed guard in his covered lookout.
Jumping off the boulders
No way we would jump off the tower. Running jumps off the boulders into the deep water was our style. Smashing into the murky water we went down, down, down feeling the water temperature dropping. Still water at dam walls is always freezing cold.
During one jump I opened my eyes and saw the water go from murky yellow to jet black. I quickly kicked for the surface and the summer sun.
Floating around the lake
One day mate Keith said “How about we buy a big tube at our local disposal shop in Sydney Road, near Albion Street”. We bought a cheap tube, made for a large aircraft wheel. We blew it up at a service station and Keith’s dad whizzed us all in his thundering motor bike and side car to the Coburg Lake. We spent the day, in turns, circumnavigating the lake paddling in our big floating armchair.
The Lake today
Still opposite the remaining north wall of Pentridge the lake grounds and facilities are greatly improved, a credit to the Council.
Image: State Library Victoria
