Victoria’s Timber Tramways Have Their Story
Published in The Argus Week-End Magazine, Saturday 27th October 1945, page 14
By David Burke
Some Interesting Facts About a Picturesque Bush Transport System
Suppose you were stumbling through the dense timbers of North Gippsland—that vast forest area marked on your maps by a patch of uncharted blankness—when unexpectedly there was a break in the scrub to reveal, threading its unheralded way midst Nature’s wooden giants, a railway line.
Now there is nothing very unusual about a railway line. But take out that map again—this country is far from any railhead, just bush, unending virgin bush. You know no trains go through here, but at your feet are the rails. How can this be?
Because the lumber industry of our forests had so expanded by the turn of this century—the timber companies were finding themselves in serious difficulties through bad transport. Mills and cutting areas had been established far into the bush, inaccessible in distance and terrain to the tough, log-hauling bullock and horse teams. Though growing, Australia urgently needed wood, restriction in the movement of logs to mill, and further to Government railway, consequently threatened to strangle timber production.
In America the irksome problem had been solved by constructing inexpensive light and narrow railways, operated without any “safe-working” rules, and commonly termed “tramways” for all these reasons. Equipped with small steam locomotives, they proved able to haul seemingly infinite loads over the most difficult country. The idea was naturally taken up in Australia, for though crude, wooden railed tracks worked by horses, had been in use for some time, this was the first serious private attempt at mass movement of timber.
One of the earliest constructed lines was a six-mile length into the bush from Britannia siding, near Yarra Junction, to serve four mills and a seasoning works. It operated until 1930, when all were closed down. Now their quaint engine, named “Puffing Billy,” is rusting its little iron heart out in the loneliness of the scrub.
From the Lilydale lime works was another now defunct track—the “Cave Hill and Mt Evelyn tramway”—built to convey firewood fuel to the kilns. Their locomotive had something of a past, for it was one of the Bendigo steam-tram engines, sold in 1903 when those lines were converted to electric traction.
Timber railways through their merits were soon installed wherever the logging industry was undertaken in size, not only in the Otway, central, and Gippsland forests of Victoria, but all over Australia—along the west Tasmanian coast, South-East Queensland, and New South Wales north coast, and the jarrah-karri kingdoms of the West.
However, the greatest concentration of these timber-hauling tramways, indeed a veritable network, was in that area bounded by Warburton-Yarra Junction and Gembrook-Noojee. So great was the length of line that it was possible to travel directly from Warburton or Yarra Junction to Noojee, or a “round trip” from Warburton to Yarra Junction, and but for a short gap, right through to Gembrook !
Where the timber tramways run.
“Main line” of the district was the “Powelltown tramway,” a well-kept 19-mile track of 3ft gauge, built in 1902 by the Victorian Hardwood Company. Starting from Yarra Junction station it follows the level course of Little Yarra River to the big milling centre of Powelltown, and continues on through the thick country of high trees by countless hairpin curves, spindle-legged bridges, and a long tunnel to the bush terminus of “splitters’ camp.” From the camp the “high lead,” a great cable-worked incline, straddles the range, climbing 1,300ft in less than a mile. It gains access to the higher timbered regions, where additional mills and tramways have been constructed.
The tramway possesses five locomotives—diminutive, low-wheeled machines, with huge balloon smoke-stacks to arrest sparks, as they are fired with the local product, cut into 4ft lengths. Three of the engines have been given names—Little Yarra, Ada, and dinky Coffee Pot.
It is regrettable to report that this busy system has lately suspended operations to await the decision of its future rejuvenation or doom. Though the prime purpose of the Powelltown line was timber haulage, for many years it was the district’s chief artery of transport, and until 1942 a passenger service, using a home-made carriage, was run to regular schedule.
Perhaps you, my reader, have had that unique experience of jingling merrily down to Powelltown in the box-like vehicle hauled behind fussy Little Yarra, whose crew played poker on the tender-top to while away the journey!
Victorian forest areas.
Two lines connected with the Powelltown tramway to make the circuit from Warburton to Noojee—the Federal and Goodwood systems. The latter, the Goodwood railway, originated in Noojee, 14 miles away, but was of the different 3ft 6in width (yes, these, too, had their broken gauge problem), so preventing interchange of vehicles. Owned by the Goodwood Timber Trading Co (which also had a 23-mile line at Port Albert), it was quite a large line, having five locomotives, one of which was bought from the West Australian Government railways. However, the bush fires of 1939 so damaged the track that since then it has not operated in full.
The largest line still working is that from Warburton, the Federal mill tramway, a 17-mile railway starting at La La sidings (Warburton extension) and going via Big Pat’s Creek to the new Federal mill settlement.
This indeed is a trip well worth making. Using rails taken from Melbourne’s cable tram tracks, it assaults the ranges in a mass of writhing curves, grades as steep as 1 in 12, to conquer the heights at Starling’s Gap, elevation 2,250ft. Then it follows along the plateau to the mill settlement, which has its own post-office, at more than 2,000ft. The crossing with the Powelltown tramway takes place near the terminus, using a curious hinged track arrangement.
Three large railway-type tractors have been used since the Federal’s steam locomotives were sold on war service. Unlike the Government railways, they do not have continuous braking, so during the long descent of the steep grades the bogie-slings which carry the logs are marshalled ahead of the tractor—just in case.
Travellers to Gembrook by the Victorian Railways narrow-gauge train may have noticed a curious little railway commencing behind the station, to curve away into the forest. This is a 12-mile line extending almost to meet those radiating from Powelltown. It has two steam engines, one of which has a whistle 3ft long mounted aside the boiler, which is audible 20 miles away!
Perhaps the tramways have a mania for collecting locomotive curiosities and secondhand stock. In the forests centring about Erica there is a long line out to Ezard’s mill, in the snowy shadow of Mt Erica, the engine of which was originally two separate ones on the Port Albert tramline. They were sold, sent to Melbourne, regauged, and rebuilt into one single locomotive, then put to work on the Federal line at Warburton. After lying derelict for some years, the combined engine has been made useful again at its present location. Nearly to Erica the Forestry Commission has a very fine tramway from Collins’ siding, run with two Yankee geared engines.
And to the north timber trams have threaded the area about Healesville, Matlock, and Marysville; while at Alexandra the shire council owns a 13-mile 2ft gauge track to the Rubicon mill. This line has the honour of possessing the first diesel locomotives built in Australia by Kelly and Lewis, Springvale.
Timber railways have cobwebbed the forests of our state, small and large—perhaps to live and die years ago—now mere “streaks of rust,” for the jealous bush is quick to reclaim its rights. And the motor-truck has increased its popularity, so that tram mileage is but a fraction of former years—a romantic part of the timber industry gradually dying.
Few of us have known of the timber trams, but few Victorians know their forests. Maybe in the wood’s course of production—your house, that door, this table, my pen—the tram has played its vital part. The echoes of the axeman’s blade and the giant’s despairing crash are gone. Now it is loaded on the bogie slings—the screech of a whistle, and the whispering forest is startled to the rush of labouring exhaust, steam, and smoke. An absurd little engine, dwarfed by its load, with crank-rods threshing, is off to the mill, over high hill and deep gully, ever accompanied with the song of mumbling wheels and protesting rails.
Above the trees are waving to a happy blend with nature, and the trees will always wave—though only to a memory—the faint echo of a ghost train.
