I was determined to get out and about, notwithstanding the malaise brewing in the lower regions of my lungs. If there is one thing worse than feeling crook on the road it is sitting around dwelling on it. A sortie to the lighthouse at Vlamingh Head was just the shot. And what an interesting place it proved to be.
This feature of the North-West Cape takes its rather odd sounding name from Willem Hesselsz de Vlamingh, a Dutch sea captain in the employ of the Dutch East India Company who, like many of his contemporaries, charted a goodly section of the west coast of Australia, almost as an incidental activity, en route from Holland to the Dutch East Indies. As a brief aside, Vlamingh and his crew are believed to the be the first Europeans to have entered the Swan River on 10 January 1697. A realisation of just how many Dutch seafarers (apart from the more famous and infamous) were involved in the early charting and exploration of this coast has been something of a surprise to me. And of equal surprise has been the discovery of how many of them failed to make the necessary turn to port at the right time and met the Continent with a resounding and voyage ending thud! As another quick aside, I was interested to learn that the coast of Western Australia has claimed over 1,400 ships since the Dutch began exploiting the wealth of the East Indies in the 17th Century.
It could be said that the Vlamingh Head lighthouse, high on the hilltop overlooking both sides of the tip of the North-West Cape, came into existence literally by accident....another shipwreck.
In 1906, the still new Federal Government announced its intention to take over the management of all Australia's lighthouses. The Western Australian government of the day apparently rubbed its hands with glee. Let me quote directly from the words of a plaque near the lighthouse when referring to the reaction of those in power in the West......."[the] penny-pinching State Government scrambled to build more [lighthouses] before this happened".
But even this was not enough to secure the Vlamingh Head light. This location had not been considered a priority until the very night before the final decision was taken as to those spots on the coast which were to benefit from the construction of a lighthouse. Then fate stepped in in the form of the SS Mildura, a steel hulled cattle transport ship of 2,217 tons.
In early March 1907, the Mildura, under the command of Captain Charles Thorpe, set sail from Wyndham with a cargo of 498 cattle bound for Fremantle. Four days later, on 12 March 1907, in the face of a developing cyclone, the skipper made a serious miscalculation of course and position with unfortunate results for the ship and the cattle. Mildura struck the reef off Vlamingh Head, and although limited damage resulted and all the crew were later safely taken on board the SS Burrumbeet, the cattle drowned when set free to swim to shore.
Much of the ship was later salvaged, but the hull was left on the rocks, where, during WW2 it was used as a target for bombing practice. Understandably there is now little left of her.
As for the skipper, again let me quote from a plaque near the lighthouse. "The outcome for the ship's Captain was not so positive - despite (or perhaps because of!) having safely passed the Cape on 68 other occasions, he was found guilty of neglect and his Master's Certificate was suspended for three months!" I have to say I would be more than happy to have a beer with the person responsible for the wording of these plaques. I suspect we share the same sense of humour.
Whilst poor old Captain Thorpe may have spent three months 'on the beach' (a mere slap on the wrist in the scheme of things), his personal misfortune was to be of great subsequent benefit to his fellow Masters. The fate of the Mildura prompted an immediate call for Vlamingh Head to be included on the list of locations for the construction of a lighthouse. And so it was, with the first kerosene powered beam (now electric) piercing the night at the tip of the Cape on 10 December 1912.
Apart from the practice bombing runs over the hulk of Mildura, the North-West Cape was the location of other significant activity during the Second World War. In 1942, at the height of the Japanese expansion into the south-west Pacific, the good citizens of WA were becoming increasingly concerned about their futures. This is not entirely surprising seeing that they were the closer to the advancing foe than those on the east coast, where large numbers of troops were stationed and defences had already been established.
In response, the 2nd and 4th Infantry Divisions of the 3rd Australian Army Corps and the 1st Armoured Division were sent to WA for the defence of Perth and the northern regions of the state. Those defences included the establishment of joint RAAF, AMF and US Navy facilities on North-West Cape. RAAF Learmonth was born, and remains an operational base to this day. The Yanks built a submarine base on the eastern side of the Cape which they maintained until the Japanese threat was reduced. Code named 'Operation Potshot', this base played an important part in one of the most daring exploits of the war....the Z Force commando raid on Japanese shipping lying in Singapore harbour.
The 14 commandos involved in 'Operation Jaywick' embarked on a 70 ft Japanese fishing vessel which had been previously used by an Australian, Bill Reynolds, to evacuate civilians from Singapore. The 'Kofuku Maru' was renamed the 'Krait', after the small but deadly Asian snake. The raiding party, maintaining a disguise as Asian fishermen, sailed first from Thursday Island to the Exmouth Gulf where the 'Krait' was refuelled and repaired at the US naval base.
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This extraordinary group of Brits and Australians then sailed north to within 50 kms of Singapore. From there, on 26 September 1943, a number of them paddled collapsible canoes into the Singapore harbour and planted the limpet mines which subsequently sank seven ships. They all returned to Australia unharmed, but sadly, some of their number were killed in a later, similar operation which did not end well.
In one of those odd quirks of war, despite the utter daring and success of this raid, the consequences were tragic. The Japanese could not conceive that this raid could have been carried out from Australia. They were convinced the explosions had been the work of local saboteurs. Fifty seven Chinese, Malay, POW's, and European civilian suspects were rounded up by the notoriously barbaric Japanese military police. Torture and executions followed. The Australian authorities did not acknowledge the raid because of plans to carry out similar incursions, but as a result of the Japanese reactions, these plans were shelved.
But back to Vlamingh Head, where a radar station and anti-aircraft guns were mounted to provide a forward defence for the naval base during WW2. The guns were removed at the end of hostilities, and the radar head was destroyed by a cyclone, but these original sandbags are a reminder of the defences.
In response, the 2nd and 4th Infantry Divisions of the 3rd Australian Army Corps and the 1st Armoured Division were sent to WA for the defence of Perth and the northern regions of the state. Those defences included the establishment of joint RAAF, AMF and US Navy facilities on North-West Cape. RAAF Learmonth was born, and remains an operational base to this day. The Yanks built a submarine base on the eastern side of the Cape which they maintained until the Japanese threat was reduced. Code named 'Operation Potshot', this base played an important part in one of the most daring exploits of the war....the Z Force commando raid on Japanese shipping lying in Singapore harbour.
The 14 commandos involved in 'Operation Jaywick' embarked on a 70 ft Japanese fishing vessel which had been previously used by an Australian, Bill Reynolds, to evacuate civilians from Singapore. The 'Kofuku Maru' was renamed the 'Krait', after the small but deadly Asian snake. The raiding party, maintaining a disguise as Asian fishermen, sailed first from Thursday Island to the Exmouth Gulf where the 'Krait' was refuelled and repaired at the US naval base.
This extraordinary group of Brits and Australians then sailed north to within 50 kms of Singapore. From there, on 26 September 1943, a number of them paddled collapsible canoes into the Singapore harbour and planted the limpet mines which subsequently sank seven ships. They all returned to Australia unharmed, but sadly, some of their number were killed in a later, similar operation which did not end well.
In one of those odd quirks of war, despite the utter daring and success of this raid, the consequences were tragic. The Japanese could not conceive that this raid could have been carried out from Australia. They were convinced the explosions had been the work of local saboteurs. Fifty seven Chinese, Malay, POW's, and European civilian suspects were rounded up by the notoriously barbaric Japanese military police. Torture and executions followed. The Australian authorities did not acknowledge the raid because of plans to carry out similar incursions, but as a result of the Japanese reactions, these plans were shelved.
But back to Vlamingh Head, where a radar station and anti-aircraft guns were mounted to provide a forward defence for the naval base during WW2. The guns were removed at the end of hostilities, and the radar head was destroyed by a cyclone, but these original sandbags are a reminder of the defences.
From the vantage point of the hilltop, we were able to look out to the north-east, across the nearby Lighthouse Caravan Park to, in the far distance, the towers of the Naval Communications Base. These are the most wickedly difficult things to actually capture on film. You will just have to accept my word for it that we could see them from here.
So here is a better (but still not great) view of this incredible 'radio shack', the most powerful radio transmitter in the Southern hemisphere.
What's its story? In 1963, in response to the need to maintain communications with their Polaris submarines in the Indian and Western Pacific Oceans, the US negotiated with the Australian Government to built this Very Low Frequency communications base on the North-West Cape.
VLF transmissions have two unique features. Firstly they follow the curvature of the earth and can therefore travel enormous distances. The second critical feature from the perspective of submarine communications is that they can be received up to twenty metres below the surface of the sea.
These transmissions require incredible power, a million watts of it. The actual messages emanate from 'Tower Zero', the 389 metres high, central tower, around which twelve other towers support a web of antennae, as depicted in this diagram taken from the Net.
Tower Zero is supported by a concrete foundation which extends to a depth of 17 metres. Also beneath the ground on this 400 hectare site, is a buried array of copper wire, 417 kilometres of it! All 13 of the towers, which are the highest structures in the Southern hemisphere, have been designed and constructed to withstand winds of up to 500 kph. This was put to the test in April 1999, when Cyclone Vance slammed into the North-West Cape bringing with it a gust of 276 kph, the highest recorded wind speed in Australia's history. The towers survived when much of Exmouth, the town built specifically to support the base, did not.
Initially, the base, named after Prime Minister Harold Holt, was staffed entirely by American service personnel. In 1974 the Whitlam government renegotiated the relevant treaty. 'US' was dropped from the title of the base, and it was then 'officially' a joint facility, although one wag at the time noted that, "In the Communications Centre the only thing the Americans and the Australians shared was the coffee pot".
As the US Polaris strike submarines were phased out and replaced by the Ohio class boats, communications with this fleet were centred more in stations in the USA, but the facility on North-West Cape, which, by 1999 had become entirely Australian managed, still plays an important role.
I found it quite eerie to drive past this base and think that chaps sitting somewhere within its perimeter are communicating with submariners thousands of kilometres away. As I said before, this is some 'radio shack'.
What's its story? In 1963, in response to the need to maintain communications with their Polaris submarines in the Indian and Western Pacific Oceans, the US negotiated with the Australian Government to built this Very Low Frequency communications base on the North-West Cape.
VLF transmissions have two unique features. Firstly they follow the curvature of the earth and can therefore travel enormous distances. The second critical feature from the perspective of submarine communications is that they can be received up to twenty metres below the surface of the sea.
These transmissions require incredible power, a million watts of it. The actual messages emanate from 'Tower Zero', the 389 metres high, central tower, around which twelve other towers support a web of antennae, as depicted in this diagram taken from the Net.
Tower Zero is supported by a concrete foundation which extends to a depth of 17 metres. Also beneath the ground on this 400 hectare site, is a buried array of copper wire, 417 kilometres of it! All 13 of the towers, which are the highest structures in the Southern hemisphere, have been designed and constructed to withstand winds of up to 500 kph. This was put to the test in April 1999, when Cyclone Vance slammed into the North-West Cape bringing with it a gust of 276 kph, the highest recorded wind speed in Australia's history. The towers survived when much of Exmouth, the town built specifically to support the base, did not.
Initially, the base, named after Prime Minister Harold Holt, was staffed entirely by American service personnel. In 1974 the Whitlam government renegotiated the relevant treaty. 'US' was dropped from the title of the base, and it was then 'officially' a joint facility, although one wag at the time noted that, "In the Communications Centre the only thing the Americans and the Australians shared was the coffee pot".
As the US Polaris strike submarines were phased out and replaced by the Ohio class boats, communications with this fleet were centred more in stations in the USA, but the facility on North-West Cape, which, by 1999 had become entirely Australian managed, still plays an important role.
I found it quite eerie to drive past this base and think that chaps sitting somewhere within its perimeter are communicating with submariners thousands of kilometres away. As I said before, this is some 'radio shack'.
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