The lost history of Newcastle's once-mighty government dockyards

IT might seem hard to believe now, but Newcastle Harbour was once the hub of major NSW government shipbuilding and ship repair.

Today it's all gone, consigned to the scrapheap of history, and no one could be sadder than former Hunter MP John Price who knows part of the story first-hand.

"You know the state government once operated three dockyards - at Walsh Island and at Dyke Point (both in Newcastle Harbour) and in Sydney at Cockatoo Island," he said.

"They were also very successful for a while, then they all died," Price said.

Now the lost dockyards, especially in the Port of Newcastle, seem in danger of being totally forgotten. But they won't, if Price has anything to do with it. To remedy the apparent collective loss of memory about the rise and fall of the city's dockyards, he's published what I suspect will become an invaluable reference tool for folk curious to know more about our past in detail and in context with past eras.

But he's a bit modest about his achievement, however, despite spending five years combing through historical records to write up his findings. He describes it this way: "The book might be a particular interest to people who once worked at Newcastle State Dockyard (1942-1987) or had relatives working there."

It's actually much more than that. Price realised that outside of a few academic papers, no one had ever tackled the vast story of how important government shipbuilding was once in NSW.

And he thought that time was running out to record the saga, much of which was within living memory. I wish his book had a shorter, catchier title. But, as it's all about the demise of NSW state-owned shipbuilding, the title does say it all: Political Indifference and Maritime Policy Failure.

Its theme is that local shipbuilding skills aren't a luxury, but a necessity, and that a stronger political will is needed to find solutions. He writes: "Currently, Australia, a significant island nation in the South Pacific is almost totally beholden to Northern Hemisphere shipowners, which in time of conflict seem to withdraw to north of the equator.

"Significant commercial shipbuilding capacity is currently absent from our national manufacturing program, as is significant commercial docking capacity."

Add to that, Australia needs to provide opportunities to train new generations of tradespeople skilled in manufacturing.

In an earlier conversation with the former MP in late 2022, when I previewed his book, Price reminded me that the private Carrington Slipways (initially in Carrington) had built an Antarctic exploration vessel that lasted 31 years at its Tomago yard. By comparison, its $528 million icebreaker replacement was built in Romania.

"And long before that, our former Walsh Island dockyard (1914-1932) had built a 15,000 ton floating dock by 1930 to repair ships. This was scrapped in 1977 and replaced by one built in Japan called Muloobinba, which was finally sold off in December 2012."

The early, long-demolished Walsh Island site, now incorporated into Kooragang, once employed 2500 workers and built 80 vessels ranging from a pilot vessel, to cargo ships, ferries, trawlers, tug boats and dredges. It was Newcastle's second largest employer after BHP.

Besides shipbuilding and repair, this versatile dockyard was involved in bridge building, and was contracted for 298 rail carriages and other rolling stock, plus colliery skips and pipes. Even steam road tractors were built, some of which were used to build Merewether baths. The dockyard had a wharf frontage of 2000 feet to the southern arm of the Hunter River. A rough, three-runway aerodrome was also built on the reclaimed sandy island.

But the yard closed during the 1930s Great Depression. In 1942 it was dismantled and shifted to Dyke Point, opposite today's Honeysuckle, and rebuilt. This dockyard went on to build about 98 vessels between 1942 and 1987, including the large passenger ferry, Princess of Tasmania, in 1958. During World War II, it repaired about 600 ships. Post-war it became one of six major commercial shipyards operating in Australia.

Its other work included providing crucial components for power stations in NSW, Victoria and Queensland, and it made parts of the hydro-electric systems in NSW, Victoria and Tasmania.

But the author of this maritime history is just as remarkable. Now in his 80s, he began work as an apprentice fitter and turner at the State Dockyard in 1956, before becoming a marine engineer and later moving into senior management, then leaving in 1982.

Price then went into politics for 23 years, becoming the Member for Waratah (1984-1999) and then Member for Maitland (1999-2007), including eight years as the Parliament's first deputy speaker.

"I've been a politician for most of my life, going from the safest seat to one of the most marginal," John Price OAM said.

He also served for 24 years on the Newcastle University Council, including time as deputy chancellor and as acting chancellor in 2012-2013.

Original advertising

On a recent trip to Merriwa, in the Upper Hunter, I came across what I regard as a part of an older, vanishing Australia. I put it in the same category as the original tram tracks out towards Jesmond, or boxlike, old drinking troughs for horses you might have seen a century ago outside Newcastle station or in Darby Street. Well, everywhere really in the 19th century horse-drawn age.

This time, though, it was a couple of rare emerald coloured tiles on a wall outside the Merriwa bakery in the main street. They showed a ram's head and a bull, or at least a cow's head. I'd only seen similar highly unusual, decorative objects on an old converted house in Laman Street, Newcastle, and in Carrington.

Such distinctive tiles have mostly now disappeared from suburbia. They represent an early, eye-catching form of advertising. In this case, the tiles denoted a butcher shop.

They date from the end of 1928 when two Merriwa buildings were built side by side, with the smaller one occupied by a butcher. The larger one was completed in 1935 and was occupied by McLennan's bakery. Under new owners, it survives today, although the actual butcher shop next door has gone the way of the dodo.