Brisbane Suburban Roads: bad design, bad ergonomics.

Posted on July 4, 2015 by wp-admin

Do you get frustrated at the wheel?

I don’t mean lack of sex. I mean, do the constant checks to traffic-flow drive you mad? There’s absolutely no point in either being in a hurry, or attempting to keep to a schedule, if you are driving through Brisbane suburbia. The constant blockages, hold-ups, un-synchronised traffic-lights, arbitrary stop signs everywhere, lack of intelligent road-marking, a total excess of road-marking, et cetera, all are infuriating to the sentient driver who has experienced the best in traffic control, and sees the worst in Brisbane, for all its wealth.

There is, without doubt, a definite ploy on the part of road-designers in Brisbane suburbs, to deliberately slow traffic to the extent of jamming.

Bottle-necks are deliberately built in dozens, if not hundreds of locations. Many nearside lanes have concrete obstructions and signs built on them, to the extreme danger of two-wheel traffic particularly, and the tyre-marks show all the hits and near-misses.

Traffic lights, except for one or two locations, are not synchronised, or worse, timed to offer red at each junction. An extreme case is in the city itself, where, whichever is the route of travel, no consecutive lights are ever green. Most lights are on primitive timers, having no relation to conditions at any time, changing by clockwork all 24 hours.

No traffic lights flash ‘Give Way’ at night, but continue operating despite no traffic being present. Lights on sensors are very few, some even replaced by timers.

The whole road design is gridlock-oriented, with busy roads blocked for kilometers during morning and afternoon rush; soon gridlock will actually take place, not by accident-blockage, but by traffic density.

We need a new broom at Traffic Control, to sweep away all the bottlenecks, stop- signs, infantile road-markings, frighteningly dangerous so-called ‘bike lanes’, all the paraphernalia of the garden-gnome mentality.

On one two-kilometer stretch of road near Toombul, there are SIXTY signs for the attention of drivers. Count the insane excess in your suburb.

OK, I’ve had my rant, now, the details. Some technology is required, therefore expense, but most changes are simple and practical, needing nothing more than a left-turn lane at all intersections and lights, for example.

1) Stop signs: Almost all eliminated, replaced by ‘Give Way’. If a vigil is kept at a stop sign, it will be noticed that very few drivers actually come to a standstill, when they can see the road is clear. Why stop, when the meaning of ‘Give Way’ is perfectly clear? A classic case of police cunning is at a stop-sign in a bizarre left-turn lane in Nundah, where hundreds are booked for not stopping dead at the line. Those who know the trap stop dead, though the road may be clear, only to be run into from behind by the poor bugger who wonders why the hell you stopped. Broken glass constantly litters that intersection.

2) Intersections: ‘T’ junctions and crossroads. For some unfathomable reason, a few years ago some wowser of design attempted with much success to eliminate all multiple lanes exiting intersections. Kerbs have been extended onto the road surface on the left, and islands on the right. In other words, no left or extra right-turn lanes. One vehicle turning right blocks the road for all those wanting to turn left, and vice versa. Why were these bottlenecks ever instituted? Who gains? Where is the safety factor?

3) Mid-road pedestrian islands: A good idea generally, but they must always be sited on a through road at the FAR side of a right-turn intersection, otherwise they act as an obstruction to waiting right-turn traffic, blocking the flow for straight-through traffic and causing danger to pedestrians. A childish mistake of road-design seen in quite a few places; who is responsible for this lack of professionalism? Or is it another deliberate and dangerous ploy?

4) Extraneous line-marking and painted ‘bike lanes’: That is, not actual bike lanes, safely separated from the motorised traffic by kerbs and barriers, but simply designated and extending into main traffic-flow by a line-marking. This horrendously dangerous practice gives some unthinking cyclists the impression that they are somehow protected whilst within their white line, and serves only to increase the statistics regarding boastful kilometers of spurious and non-existent ‘bike lanes’.

Throughout Brisbane there are line-markings between the kerb and the centre-line, tending to reduce the driving width and forcing on-coming traffic closer. To the left of this extra line is the supposed ‘bike lane’, although parking is generally allowed within it, rendering such designation erroneous and a death-trap for cyclists. A cyclist riding in the narrow gap between the line-marking and parked cars, the designated ‘bike lane’, is facing two severe risks.

The first is when a driver opens the car door without looking behind: a door projects nearly a metre into the cyclist’s path and is unavoidable without extreme danger from already-squeezed traffic; either the cyclist hits the door or, second risk, the passing truck hits the cyclist. In any case, two large semi-trailers passing each other in opposite directions seldom leave room for any obstruction, and the trucks always win.

The commendable attitude of road-design in making it safer for cyclists has been hi-jacked by the race for purely imaginary kilometers of designated bike tracks. This falsification directly endangers cyclists and has caused deaths.

Cyclists in today’s traffic are all at risk of death or severe injury, no matter how careful and aware are other road-users. This is an undeniable fact, exacerbated by the inculcation in the minds of cyclists of their right-of-way and right to use the public roads.

A wise cyclist will take none of this for granted, but will look out for her own safety in a most dangerous environment, where nobody is necessarily at fault when an accident happens.

A wise cyclist will not wear headphones.

A wise cyclist will always look behind before pulling out to pass a parked vehicle.

Wise cyclists will never ride two-abreast: those days have gone 50 years ago.

A wise cyclist will never feel protected by road-markings. A supposed right-of-way is not a safe right-of-way.

Who the hell teaches cyclists safe road-use in today’s traffic? Anyone?
Could you imagine, if two-wheeled transport had never been invented, and had just become a circus-act, that trick of balance would ever be allowed on the public road?

5) Zebra Crossings: Here is a mystery. In order to accentuate the appearance of a pedestrian on a crossing, white lines must cross the road from side to side. Any interruption of those lines immediately signals something crossing. By having the stripes the zebra way leaves gaps to camoflage pedestrians. Any artist would offer that information: yet no-one has considered it. Furthermore, illuminating crossings from above rather from the side actually helps to render pedestrians invisible, an obvious fact any stage-lighting expert would know. Think dark, rainy nights.

Building out kerbs and signs into the road surface at crossings does not safeguard pedestrians but certainly does endanger two-wheel riders. All obstructions into traffic lanes must be considered un-necessary and dangereous, particularly and essentially in rain, darkness, and wind. The multiple tyre-marks attest to the danger.

One more remark on mad pedestrians with the indestructible god-syndrome: why do some pedestrians dress in black, walk on the road at night rather than the footpath, facing away from the oncoming traffic, whilst pushing prams. They and their babies WILL die.

Two remarks: Why do mothers push their prams and babies out into traffic, from behind parked cars, so that they can see if anything is coming?

Just outside our house, in the middle of the night, someone drove into a parked car, pushing it 50 metres down the road and onto the verge. Black-clad road-walkers beware.

Again, crossing-users now feel they have the right to safety, and many step off the kerb at speed with no awareness or concern. Where is the education?

6) Now, the costly fix: traffic lights: the bane of drivers in cities with no technology, like Brisbane. I say costly, but really the technology is cheap and has been available for over 50 years. The fix, to everyone’s happiness and contentment, is permanently synchronised lights in both directions, on all through roads, at all times, and linked to the speed limit, whatever that may be, and the limit may have to be slower.

How often have we, as responsible law-abiding drivers, sat fuming at a red light on a totally deserted cross-road, waiting, waiting, for the primitive clockwork to operate in our favour. How often have we stopped at a red light instigated by a solitary pedestrian, which light remains red even whilst the pedestrian has walked 100 metres and out of sight? All these irritations have been cleared away in other cities where traffic-flow is a science operated by professionals.

Admittedly, some small sections of roads do have lights synchronised at certain times, so the traffic controllers do know about the fix, apparently.

In case anyone is unsure as to what synchronised traffic-lights do……..imagine you have waited at lights from a side-road, and are turning onto a main road. You may also have to wait at the next red light on the main road, but from then on, if you stick to the speed limit, and drive neither too fast nor too slow, every traffic light will turn green for you, for ever, to the distant horizon, into the setting sun of permanent delight. A motorists paradise, here on Earth.

Imagine our main Brisbane arterial roads free of red lights. Sure there is a cost, but it’s nothing compared with building a freeway. When I was a kid, as an exchange student passing through Hamburg in my host’s car, I was astounded to see all the traffic lights miraculously changing to green as we approached them, for mile after mile. I thought it was magic, or co-incidence, more likely, and shouted in surprise at each green, Wow, another one. Vhy ze surprise, said my hosts, zey are synchronised, off course. That was in 1960.

Every traffic-light must have a ‘Left turn at any time’ sign, and lane, if possible.

7) Roundabouts. Brilliant. Invented 100 years ago, but virtually unknown in Brisbane; the few that exist are marvels of efficiency, and work so well even when overloaded, because they make sense. Drivers, most of them, understand the procedure, patience is not strained because there is no wasted road-space, everyone has their turn. Except…….the wowsers can not leave well-alone. Some of the few smaller roundabouts actually have bottlenecks built into them, the footpath deliberately widened to block off the left-turn lane. Deliberately. No possible explanation could be valid, and no doubt fatuous mumblings about ‘safety’ would be mouthed.

Roundabouts could satifactorily take the place of 90% of traffic lights. We have seen what happens when a functioning roundabout is replaced by a dozen traffic lights: endless waiting, queues of vehicles polluting the local businesses with exhaust-gas. See West End, a classic example. It can only be assumed that the department responsible for traffic lights relies on the proliferation of meddling to secure their existence.

The installation of each new set of lights guarantees that it will take more time to get through that intersection: Guarantees. A roundabout in the same place actually speeds flow. The examples are endless.

8) Parking. In this era of the vehicle, parking is at a premium, and all parallel-parking should be fazed out in favour of diagonal, drive-in. Not reverse-in. Reversing into a space necessarily holds up traffic, though it makes for a quick getaway. Backing out of a space is performed while the road is clear: no hold-up.

The wide space between the kerb and building-alignment is a hangover from pedestrian days and is wasted in cities, except as a place for dogs to shit. This space must now be used for parking and footpath.

9) SPEED LIMITS

A visitor to Brisbane, and a great proportion of residents, have no idea what the suburban speed limit is in any given location. Many assume that if they can not see a sign, it’s legal to do 60 km/hour, but no. If a speed sign can not be seen, and one has not been passed previously on that road, to avoid fines and point-loss one must drive at 50km/hour, no matter how ridiculous that sounds.

The fact is that there is no way of knowing what the speed limit is until a sign appears ahead, and signs are often two or more kilometers apart. Only local knowledge from previous trips will help, and strangers must be left in the dark.

Almost every driver on un-signed roads does 60 or more, though the limit on those roads is actually 50. The speed limit is 50 unless otherwise signed. Who knew that?

The policing of speed limits is now virtually without lee-way. Two km over will get you booked, even though many speedometers on modern cars are not accurate to within 5 km/hour. Not long ago the lee-way was about 9km/hr.

A consequence of this is that so many folk have been booked, losing licenses and cash, that traffic now flows at 10km below the speed limit, with dangerous bunching and frustration. It is not safe to drive with attention constantly on the speedometer, and cruise-control, if available, needs adjusting after every braking.

It may be an urban myth, but I recently heard that where the speed limit is, say, 100km/hr, to actually drive accurately at that speed is to break the law: 99km/hr is the legal maximum. Given that any speedometer is certain to be more than 5km/hr inaccurate, all this pettifogging is bullshit, my word against yours, an un-proveable situation biased on the side of outrageous fines, inflicting the heaviest penalties on those whose wages, if any, are breadline. So, depressing though it is, we all may well consider that all speed limits are 10km/hr LESS than signed, or risk our children’s food for a month.

Within the last month a remarkable thing happened. In my neighbourhood, a stop-sign was removed. This sign stopped the traffic for forty years on the main through-road, in favour of the little-used side road. It probably raised millions in fines. This action was taken out of sheer necessity: traffic was banking up for a kilometer, blocking many access roads and causing local gridlock. Now traffic flows freely even at the busiest times. The cost of a bit of road-marking and the removal of signs was minimal, and saved time and frustration for thousands of drivers. Why had it taken so long, and why aren’t all such bottlenecks removed immediately? There are hundreds throughout Brisbane. On your drive to work, count the number of unnecessary blockages which could be fixed by give-way signs, roundabouts, left-turn lanes et cetera.

By the constant work taking place on our suburban roads, for example, line-marking, new kerbing, new traffic-lights, it can be assumed that there is a department in charge of these operations. The principal aim of such operations should obviously be to speed traffic-flow safely, remove obstructions, and keep the road surface in good condition. These three specifics seem to come last on the list of projects. Why? Who is in charge?

ACU

Posted on July 2, 2015 by wp-admin

ACU

There’s one just down the road.

I can tell it’s ACU because of the big new sign out the front. Or back, in this case, by the car park. It says ‘Australian Catholic University’: An oxymoron, or at least, a misnomer.

Perhaps, with a small ‘c’, implying ‘universal’ or ‘whole’ education, I would be content to send a child there; but no, the capital ‘C’ refers to a religious institution, where one would be right in thinking there must be certain curbs to the scientific method, and also the inclusion of practices tending to instill superstition, false belief and the ceremonies of one particular sect; practices best kept away from education and locked in monastery or church.

‘Catholic’ does not even include other superstitions, and there are thousands, but is specific to the Roman variety, and is a successful business venture by a very successful clique notable for its pederast priests and child-beating nuns. I have it from good authority.

As for University, those establishment today are far from being universal, but are available only to the wealthy, or those able to submit to crippling debt.

Furthermore, those having been ground fine by the mill appear to exit clutching degrees but having little knowledge of any matters outside their specific inculcation, not even, in some cases, of their own language. Again, ‘University’ is a sad misrepresentation of the teaching offered.

If your child wishes a further education, and can read and write and go to school on its own back legs, that child would expect the truth pending further discovery, a rigorous scientific method, no obfuscation or unverified conclusions, and a broad knowledge of the world, pertaining to, and in addition to the child’s own selected field.

Though a modern university may be a simple fee-charging degree-provider, surely some broad education is a necessary adjunct to any specific course, and surely all superstitious peddling must be banished from within the walls, and preferably from the entire country, to safeguard our sanity, safety, and sentience.

ACU later, ok?

Mount Coot-tha Tracks

Posted on July 2, 2015 by wp-admin

THE BUSH AT BRISBANE’S DOORSTEP

Over forty years ago I started exploring Mt. Coot-tha; it’s forest, creeks and tracks.

It was and is a neglected area, ravaged by constant burn-offs and the consequent erosion, however, on my weekly visits I was sure to see wallabies and the occasional kangaroo, and massive lace monitors rending the eucalypt bark in their attempts to hide from my curiosity.

The place has changed little from my early visits, but the old barbed-wire fences that once criss-crossed the hills have now disappeared, and the mysterious concrete slabs, pads for long-forgotten buildings, are mostly obliterated by loose gravel and moss. Old gold workings also have mostly been smoothed-out by the years, and the permanent car-bodies sink lower each season as the steel turns to oxide, exposing the cast-iron and non-ferrous parts.

There are still small sanctuaries of rain-forest in the gullies and along the bigger creek-beds; rain-forest that would once have covered the entire hill were it not for the fire-crazed habits of human populations, continuing to this day. Fire seldom reaches these deep pockets of vegetation, as it always travels uphill. Even spindly hoop pines survive in places.

Near the old chip factory, which was busy producing not chips but crisps during my early visits, on the other side of the road by the car park, is a dell of turf surrounded by silky oaks, with a big bauhinnia and a few exotics: once a garden of some forgotten homestead perhaps. It is from here that it was and is my custom to walk and run a circuit of some five to ten kilometers, depending on enthusiasm. The accompanying dog has been gone for twenty years, but I’m now lucky to have my dear friend to discuss with and complain as we shake off the city roar and fume and climb up the little track through the trees watching the horizon get lower and Moreton Bay stretching out behind us. Soon the haze of traffic pollution hugging the city is below us and the air is clean, oxygenated, with nose-pleasing eucayptus, wattyl, greasy-grass, funghi, jequirity vine, and dozens of unseen plants. Until……..

Until walkers appear ahead, on the track, their presence often preceded by artificial industrial smells mis-called de-odorants, bad perfumes, hair-sprays, after-shave: all so unsuited and alien to the fresh forest. On a still day it may take a hundred metres before their stinkl dissipates, but then a new alien presence reveals its offensive mark: the small track, just the width of one or two pairs of legs, widens out to three, four, five metres, the trees and saplings removed, the ground excavated, torn, shaped and rolled, a new and un-necessary highway coils through the scrub, its smoothness waiting for the first tropical downpour to wash the surface into gullies and gutters.

Old footpaths are now deliberately blocked with rocks, tree-litter and plastic notices warning ‘Track Closed’. Fine outlooks are no longer available to new visitors, but regular hikers keep the way visible, stepping round the deposited rubbish and moving blockages.

Ten years or so ago, one tiny track I regularly used, along with many others, was the playground of a 1.2M Bobcat. The track was widened to two metres and advertised with cute wooden signs on posts. A couple of years later a change of heart ‘closed’ the track, for ‘revegetation’, though it wasn’t the walkers that had caused the erosion. The signs rotted away and the regulars ignored the ‘closure’, until another regime suddenly decided to put an even bigger machine in to wipe out any revegetation that had actually taken place. Old hikers see all the contradictions and laugh.

The prettiest place on the rounds, which was a favourite resting-stop after galloping through the bush like an idiot, was the nearly-always running creek and waterfall. There clear pools and wide rocks invited the walker to strip off shoes and sweaty socks and bathe red feet in the cool water. If the waterfall was active I’d float nude in the pool at the bottom, a most luxurious pleasure in the height of the Brisbane summer. I used to drink from the creek: crystal and icy, with a faint smokey taste. The water flowed from the watershed at the kiosk road, unpolluted by any human activity, until that is, they built a public toilet at the source, with a septic overflow. Fear of e. coli stopped my thirst-quenching, but I still chanced a swim after storms flushed the pool. But not any more.

That paradise has gone. Where once was picnic on the water-smoothed rocks of millions of seasonal storms, where the creek cascaded into the pool below, overhung by islanded calystomens, where sweaty walkers bathed feet in water that flowed between rounded boulders in a stream-bed carved from the solid rock, where there was often a family or two, with children scrambling in the water and down by the pool, now, now, is an industrial fibre-glass gantry overshadowing all with steps and landings, fences and balustrades and warning signs, springing from massive concrete footings in the creek itself. Not a delicate Japanese bridge upstream of the cascade, leaving the feature un-spoilt and the access free, but a factory fire-escape straddling the once-beautiful waterfall. Even the waterfall itself is now fenced with warnings and danger-signs. Brilliant. Perhaps the entire hill should be out of bounds as a danger threatening the life of anyone that ventures there.

There are projects on which money could be spent on Mt. Coot-Tha, but the garden-gnome syndrome is always uppermost in planners’ minds: litter an untouched space with toys and foibles unrelated to their surrounds. Someone with true vision stops the traffic, builds a pleasant mall with shady trees; the gnomers move in with junk to pack every space, never improving, just cluttering. The hill is one such garden which will not be left alone; every year sees one more eyesore, someone’s pet scheme, and yet still the car bodies remain, the eroded areas worsen, lantana proliferates, the preventable fires kill the saplings and further scar the ravaged, stunted trees where once stood giants. An old shipping-container wrapped with plastic barrier-fencing was dumped on one lovely picnic area; others were also left on the tracks where they stayed for years, and have just been removed.

Lantana, which normally is unsuited to the poor dry soils of the hill, is getting a hold in many places, and no attempt has ever been made to eradicate it, despite the constant tinkering with tracks and chainsawing and fatuous raking around: the real work never gets done. When it first appeared twenty years ago a couple of blokes could have kept it down: I doubt, now that it is common, that those policing the park even notice that it exists.

Some sensible works have been welcome; the barbeque fireplaces, a shelter or two, tapwater standpipes, the regular mowing of open ground, an occasional toilet. But all toilets must be dry-composting systems, not septic, and Round-up as an alternative to weeding has killed a fine bottle-tree and is not wild-life safe. New picnic places being built bristle with faults: lack of parking, accessability, situated on the busy traffic road, with no individual barbeques: all concrete, steel, car fumes.

The massive bulldozing of forest tracks is continuing, though. For whose benefit? Burn-offs are still threatened, just when the previous few years’ good rain has grown an excellent crop of fine saplings now of 100mm diameter and unspoilt by fire: these new trees could be the future magnificent forest replacing the poor stunted trees of 100 deliberately-lit destructions. The hill is easily managed for dousing accidental fire, being minutes from the city and airport. Fifty years fire-free would see rain-forest climbing out of its sheltered enclaves, fine tall eucalypts, ground mulch cover preserving soil and moisture, and possibly the return of marsupials, if machinery is kept out.

Leave well alone. But we know that’s too much to ask of the gnomers.

Mt. Coot-Tha forest park is a place where like-minded people visit to exercise, rehearse for bigger adventures in Nepal, walk the dog, or simply have a break in high, clear air amongst the gums and wattyls, away from traffic, industry, and the constant earthmoving of the city. Every person queried on council activities up there has been upset by the invasive crass interference of our small, wild area.

Housing affordability

Posted on June 14, 2015 by wp-admin

When a couple with full-time work, and savings in the bank, can access a loan amounting to only one third of the cost of the cheapest housing in a city, whilst at the same time paying $400 to $500 a week in rent, there is some sad malfunction of the market.

The average wage is now insufficient to purchase a ‘first’ home. Even two average wages fall short.

There was a time in the 1970s when a strange transition took place; whereas the Commonwealth Bank was refusing finance to buyers with 90% of the cost of a house, in savings with that bank, other institutions offered loans which could be financed by the rent from a cheap ‘investment’, opening the floodgates for those seeing a portfolio of properties as a means to a life of wealth, work-free.

This situation was, and is, encouraged by the invidious application of negative gearing, whereby the birthright of home-ownership by a citizen is traded as a commodity by the wealthy.

In 1975 anyone, on the average wage, even a low permanent wage, could buy a cheap house, then a few years later, use the equity to buy another, as long as the wage plus the rent on number 2 house kept coming in. Thus started the spiraling inequalities we see today. Those who started off small ended up with many houses, a self-financing operation of zero risk, the tenants shouldering all the load, paying off their individual houses for the owner.

Thirty years later, in the new century, these early investors have accumulated 40, 50, houses, and counting: there is no limit, As the first are paid off by the tenants, there are two fabulous gains for the owner: both rents and values increase. Once the house is paid off and unencumbered by interest and repayments, the income from it actually increases, creating a pool of ready cash. As more and more houses become loan-free over the years, the cash pool increases incrementally.

So what is the problem? Get a job, get a loan, get the first of your many houses: your ‘property portfolio’.

It can’t be done. Well, not as it once could. A good job and hard work will no longer simply get you into the market, apart from the fact that the majority of jobs are no longer as well paid, relatively, as those of 40 years ago, compared with house prices, and jobs today are less permanent.

A nurse’s wage in 1970 would finance a cheap house in the city. Not now. Three wages would need to be combined to buy the same house in 2015. And there’s the rub.

Inner-city house prices have not always been high compared with the suburbs. Some city enclaves were very unpopular, run-down, and cheap: no longer; the massive population increase and suburb expansion has made commuting the least-desirable aspect of home-ownership.

Even the main-road position, with traffic noise and air-pollution, which reduced house prices drastically years ago, now has a high value relative to its proximity to the city: the closer, the higher, despite the fact that main arterial roads are now nightmares of 24-hour armageddon.

Because of the lucrative and secure attraction of citizens’ homes as investments, and the tax incentives associated with this form of bondage, housing is no longer a right of the people, but a rent-farm for a lucky minority.

Sure, you can ‘break in to the market’, but it takes huge initial savings or very high income, wealthy and/or crazy guarantors, or undetected crime.

So, why are house prices so high?

Normally, house prices will be higher the closer to centres of employment, disregarding the differences due to, say, posh or poor neighbourhoods, river-or-beachfronts, et cetera; population growth simply expands this situation. But the accelerant, raising the cost of all housing, is ‘investment’. I use quotes whenever I consider the word in question to be common but invalid.

Under the heading ‘investment’ are the thousands of Australian houses not owned by those who live in them. Using the necessity of shelter as a means to make money is a form of usury of the worst kind. Basic rental housing should be provided at cost by the state, as a stepping stone to ownership.

When foreign nationals are able legally to farm rents from Australian citizens, the housing situation is truly out of control. New housing estates in the outer suburbs, at great distance from work and amenities, were once the toe-hold of the first-house buyer, the folk who wanted a new home of their own. The land was cheap, the house basic, the neighbours all battlers. Gardens were planted, friends were made and neighbourhoods grew character.

Today, housing in new estates on suburban boundaries, and in unit-blocks in the inner city, are landlord-owned. The percentage of resident-owners falls each year. Rents increase, values increase, home-ownership becomes an impossible dream for the actual citizens.

Solution: Housing should never have become a rent-farming business. Strong dis-incentives to multiple ownership should be the aim. Negative-gearing should be dropped, and each additional property taxed at a higher rate until it no longer becomes viable to own many. Foreign nationals should be banned from owning dwellings in Australia. Housing remaining vacant, boarded-up or inaccessible should be suspect and under the threat of confiscation.

This action, gradually introduced, would slow price inflation and increase owner-occupier numbers. Threats to the building industry would be non-existent: there can only ever be housing for the current population; as it grows, housing grows. The difference will be owners rather than tenants occupying.

But wait, there’s more………

Australia has a hidden asset. There are bush towns desperate for residents. Housing is dirt-cheap. The mortgage load carried on the shoulders of the city-dweller could be cast off……..but……of course it’s a big ‘but’; no work or amenities, initially, but the re-pioneer has pleasure of helping to vitalise old townships and encouraging others to settle. We are blinkered by the stress of the modern city, to keep going, keep working, starting the day earlier and earlier, switching the pc on as soon as we get home at night. There is another way of living, and bringing up children. Australia is a big place.

Australia is a very big place.

There’s no need to cram yourself into a tight corner.

All the best, everyone.

Queensland House restoration regulations.

Posted on July 14, 2014 by wp-admin

The building regulations as applied to domestic construction in Queensland occupy a massive volume. Even the type, size, gauge and metal of every screw, bolt, and nail is specified. However………….

There are no requirements whatsoever regarding the quality of repairs, alteration, or enlargement for the traditional Queensland house.

There are no standards whatsoever concerning trade work on historic housing.

There is no inspection process protecting indigenous Queensland housing, even for dwellings over 100 years old.

The protection of the historic domestic architecture is left entirely in the hands of the owners, who may commit any act of destruction by way of alteration on their property. Of the number of these owners, a great proportion have no idea, education or concern regarding the value of their houses.

A few famously historic residences are supposedly protected by a small band of dedicated Heritage custodians, which has little power in most cases, and none in others, where, for example, arson permanently erases all responsibility, with no redress.

Every year, for the last fifty years, traditional Queensland houses are legally demolished under zoning laws passed decades ago. These lost dwellings were in most cases among the very first houses ever built in this state. And the very first buildings ever to be built on the land they occupied. Any other country would treasure its pioneering architecture; in Queensland the householders alone are the only protectors of the state’s heritage. This heritage is being demolished for unit blocks, the slums of the future, a use-by date disaster.

The recognition of domestic architecture of a locality and era, as being valuable by its individuality of style and construction, is a matter of education and political consideration. In most countries traditional domestic buildings are strictly protected to preserve the character of those villages, suburbs and cities where they exist as a majority. In Queensland one would assume that the trashing of the wooden house is welcomed by authority, thus freeing land for development.

Even in a street of exquisitely-preserved housing, those owners have no recourse if one house has its facade obliterated by a rabid designer. The tales of desecration are endless, the numbers of fine houses diminishing every day, the nineteenth and early twentieth century inner suburbs of our towns and cities being moth-eaten by neglect and ‘development’.

Admittedly the policing of work on Queenslanders is problematic, but given the choice of decay or restore, most owners in this era of temporary affluence would choose restoration. Advice for extending old timber houses is simple: there should be no obvious sign of new work.

Political will is the priority; a most unlikely circumstance in this mining-mentality governance.

An endemic problem is amateur repair and maintenance seen in almost every case where work has been done. The current building ‘trade’ has no training for carpentry as applied to historic dwellings, consequently so-called tradesmen botch every attempt at repair or replacement of 100-year-old craftsmanship. The result of this inadequacy is the costly repetition of decayed work and the general defacement of the original structure.

Among the hundreds of carpentry and joinery details required in historic timber housing, (which need to be taught as an essential qualification before a license to work is granted), the most important is the eliminating of decay on external fixtures. With suitable maintenance a house built in the 1890′s survived intact for 50 to 70 years or longer, whereas ‘modern’ repairs often fail within five years.

Housing built today under the current building code is notoriously guaranteed a life-span of only twenty years; not even one generation. As the use-by date approaches, the ‘monocoque’ type of construction becomes impossible to repair, as there is no basic frame surviving to hang new work on. An analogy with cement-and-steel boat-hulls is apt; immensely strong and cheap initially, but to be scrapped after a decade or two.

There will be no protection of the remaining original housing in the state of Queensland unless there is a movement to educate owners of the value of maintaining and altering their properties to to a quality of tradesmanship equaling or bettering that of the original builders. Legislative interference by council and government are unlikely to occur until Australia catches up with the conservation measures taken by European countries to preserve their national domestic architecture. At present the opposite is happening: with cash to influence town-planning, any historic building may be razed, desecrated or surreptitiously burnt. Within the last month a magnificent building, supposedly under the care of a prominent Brisbane club, was burned ‘beyond repair’, clearing the way for the club’s tremendous vision: a car park.

Many, too many, owners of fine old Queensland homes fail to recognise the excellent quality of work, timber, design and construction of the very house they live in. Perhaps their years of occupation render them oblivious; familiarity certainly breeds contempt. It takes a young purchaser to actually recognise the style and value in an old, butchered home, and wish care and careful attention had replaced jerry-built alterations. Even now the vandalism continues; self-inflicted: owners ruining their own homes. The list of disasters is long, but here are a few……………..

Decks arbitrarily tacked on.
Skillion roofs ditto.
Verandas enclosed.
VJ partitions cut through or removed.
Visible timber stumps replaced with 75mm SHS.
Unconsidered raising.
Unmatched cladding.
Hoop pine floors sanded and polished; exposed to hard footwear.
Water-based paints used on exposed timber.
Unmatched joinery.
Internal and external cladding covered over.
Modern roof ventilators that pollute ceiling-space.
Historically inaccurate, badly-made and fitted steps, balustrades, post-mouldings, brackets, capitals, veranda deck fascias.

The above may require explanation, but most points are obvious. Non would be pemitted in a Heritage-listed building. Here is an analogy. On the farm, in a shed, covered in a shit-shrouded tarp, is a dilapidated but valuable vintage motor car. It was made in 1923. The owner had long died, the farm changed hands. Kids got it running, cut off the saloon and turned it into a ute. Later replaced the engine with a Ford, which failed. The original engine and body mouldered in a paddock. A collector retrieved all the rusted parts, and the ute, and for $50 towed the lot away. Five years later, the restored car is immaculate. Expert and time-consuming labour has uncovered the treasure, which sells at auction for $150,000. Just a car. Too many owners of vintage houses are like the kids with the old car. They should learn, and to their benefit. Beautifully restored and enlarged Queensland houses sell to young people for lots of money; they can see the value, and will protect their investment.

The Burra Charter is a wish-list for the protection of iconic sites. Its definitions and principles are a mass of semantics and bureaucratese, most admirable and well-meaning, and very much at arm’s-length from the rot and maltreatment of the ubiquitous Queensland house. For the relevance of the Charter to the humble but also iconic wooden dwelling it may as well be written in hieroglyphics. Were a carpenter, looking for work, to quote from the Charter to the owner of a 1903 cottage in Buranda, he would be considered mad. Yet, one day, with luck, in a hundred years or so, the few remaining old cottages may shine like beautiful museum exhibits in a sea of ticky-tacky where once was a whole suburb of distinct domestic architecture. Too little, too late.

The protection of the old suburban heritage lies solely with the individual householders. This can be seen in streetscapes where a node of fine restoration has spread from neighbour to neighbour and wise influence and perhaps advice has passed from dwelling to dwelling. To buy into such a street and further the reclamation should be the aim of anyone who has realised how style and value go hand-in-hand. A cherished street may encourage a neighbourhood and perhaps a suburb. This is how heritage may be saved: without regulation but with example and education.

Essay no. 2 Religion Madness

Posted on June 9, 2014 by wp-admin

The seeds of superstition

A child enduring sadness or fear will hope that if no cracks in the paving are trodden on, everything will be well. The child does not believe or expect that all will be well, but, being helpless, invents this controlled action to fill a small void.

A child will count every tile on a wall, in the hope that if the sum is an even number, all will be well. It knows, as a sentient creature, that there is no logic in this penance, yet it has a calming effect, and is soon set aside.

Inculcation of superstition

Later in life, the older child may be indoctrinated with the ambient superstitions of family life, which, deriving from adults, it not only does not question, but believes.

The gradual development of independent thought

As puberty sets in, with its multiple distractions and derangements, a peculiar fervour may take place in the child which leads it to search out manifestations of its indoctrination.

With the consolidation of puberty, as rational thought sometimes returns, in a few cases, the young adult experiences a lifting of the cloud of superstition and the clearing of the claustrophobia of religious conditioning. In the light of knowledge-gathering from from new reading of the world outside the family and customs of the local community, there is a sudden realisation that perhaps none of the hitherto held beliefs are valid.

Within days of this thought, and with deep consideration of it and a pervading sense of relief, the new rational mind becomes unencumbered of religion and superstition. Freedom of thought, and hence action, open up to an exhilaration of spirit; the world is a place where the mind can direct the body with a freedom that can only be restricted physically.

Enlightenment from conditioning for a minority

This revelation, coming with the end of puberty in both sexes, as the mind becomes aware, is not general; although it is a definite phenomenon, it affects a minority.

Revelation of the irrelevance and falsity of instilled superstitious beliefs can occur at any age, however. A friend who in our youth I discovered with surprise to be a devoted catholic, never missing mass, at the age of thirty-five suddenly perceived how bizarre was his long-held conditioning. Within a week his ‘faith’ turned to revulsion of the industry of catholicism, its pederast priests, global wealth, and indoctrinating schools and colleges: teaching institutions diluting true knowledge with superstition.

Strongly-held irrational beliefs can be suddenly abandoned at any time; it is as if a window opens in the brain, allowing its natural analytical processes to examine an internal hindrance hitherto ignored or accepted as given. When I tentatively queried my friend on his change of outlook, what had led to its occurrence, and how he felt regarding his previous life, he had no explanation. A new dawning, a realisation, simply happened, as a scientist may have a serendipitous enlightenment regarding her research.

It seems that no child can avoid absorbing superstitions prevalent in home and family life. If the child is brought up in an environment free from religion or superstition, it will likewise be free, perhaps taking up some random belief in young adulthood.

Superstition an aberration of the large human brain. and deliberate indoctrination

Religious belief is not, as one would expect, a phenomenon of poor education and low IQ. It is a mind-set occurring in all societies world-wide, though the ‘belief’ is usually instilled from the local community. I was once shocked on meeting two friends in the street at night with their young daughter, seven or eight years old. The parents wealthy, well-educated, intelligent, good company and the opposite of wowserish. They had come from some esoteric ceremony and their little daughter was dressed as a ‘bride of christ’ or some such terminology. The meeting was bewildering for me, as if meeting my friends naked in the street, or covered in paint, without them giving any explanation of their condition. Though loving them dearly, I felt that they had inflicted on their child an action which she had no opportunity to question, an action deeply and darkly symbolic, with meaning that would be abstruse or impossible for even an adult to understand. Would you give a child a tattoo that it may hate, and hate you for, in later life?

The two encounters I have mentioned happen to involve the catholic sect, being the most common in my environment, but there are hundreds of religions extant, all, of course, invented by humans, usually men, and adopted by other humans without derision or question. Why? We could all invent a religion and form a sect. But why would anyone join? Have no doubt, some would join, and be fervent. And some would die professing and protecting their belief. It is a madness, a madness affecting men specifically.

Most women are less concerned with the ‘faith’ industry, having, perhaps more wisdom and experience of the real world of work and family. The ranting crowds of rabid ‘believers’ are nearly all men, and although the remnant congregations of derelict churches are women, they are old and few, and have outlived their husbands

Wisdom through wide experience

The percentage of the population who hold no irrational beliefs is small in most countries and negligible in others. A thorough, broad education tends dissipate residual superstitions, but not necessarily. A specific education directed to one aim can leave a student quite ignorant throughout life, though equipped for and successful in a narrow field. This is the function of modern universities. The reading of books other than novels is declining throughout humanity, with a corresponding reduction in knowledge on a wide scale. Cleverness has little to do with wisdom.

Ineradicable mind-set

I do not write in the hope of rescuing folk from their belief in the non-existent supernatural. It can’t be done. Indoctrination, however, is easy, which is why the evangelists and missionaries rake in so much cash for themselves or their institutions. The dirty slate is impossible to clean. There is an overweening pride in a belief held with conviction; nothing so delicate as logic could possibly budge it, not even a brisk branding of the buttocks. It is also very demeaning to admit to being indoctrinated. Non-religious belief in the form of knowledge, however, as with Galileo, can be shrugged off…..’.I would prefer not to be tortured, so I’ll shut up (but it’s true anyway)’.

The over-large human brain, its consequent malfunctions, and the genetic source of optimism

This fallibility in humans is no doubt one of the drawbacks of a brain which has tripled in volume over the millennia. Our mind is too big for our boots, with the consequent and not unexpected set of derangements. This relatively huge brain inevitably reached the position of considering its own workings, and that of its attached body: a disastrous situation. Under the circumstances it is truly amazing that in general we get along so well, though, sometimes, waking in the night, the terror of existence shakes us in fear; this is the human burden. We must live our entire, considered and worrysome lives with the looming knowledge that we will one day grind to a permanent stop, and then put that very nasty big fact out of our thoughts and swept under the carpet. It’s not surprising that so many of us have mad ideas and actions. Eat, drink, and be merry; too right.

As a child, I read of the robot which was built with a wonderful brain. All was well until the robot discovered that it was not human, that it was a machine. The discovery was so distressing that the robot ‘killed’ itself. I was at first made tearfully sad at the robot’s condition, poor thing, it thought it was a man. Then in later years my feelings were reversed, for we are the machines who have endings, who die, whereas the robot can continue, and renew, and replace. We are all made aware of this. How we cope is a mystery. How we remain, for the most part good-humoured and optimistic, I really don’t know, except that without that certainly genetic origin to our optimism, our huge brain would be the death of us.

‘Atheism’: a non-descriptive abstract

This little essay has deliberately avoided the word ‘atheism’ until now, because the term defines normal sentience as a corollary of ‘theism’ or perhaps ‘deism’, both terms referring to something other. There is no such phenomenon as ‘atheism’, which is a description defining ‘no circumstance’ in terms of ‘not-something’, and is even less meaningful than describing ‘water’ as ‘not-rock’. I had fun writing that.

Of the many design-faults our big brains have revealed, the tendency to harbour irrational ideas, the holding of religion as certainty is the most devastating for humanity. (closely followed by overpopulation and the power of global investment organisations, but not in this brief)

There are so many other brain-problems which come to light that were we cars, we would have been recalled dozens of times to the manufacturers for rectification. Religious belief is just one manifestation. For example, all animals crave food, we crave food. Animals eat what they can find, no problem, they stay healthy, in due course they die. We turn the craving for food into an obsessive drug-desire, consuming ever more delicious concoctions to excess, with inevitable and manifold horrendous results. Billions of dollars are made feeding this craving. Billions of dollars are made selling religions. The malfunctions of a super-hyped brain is the source of drug-similar cravings exploited by entrepeneurs in many fields, and the subject of further discussion.

So, think for yourself

Think for yourself. Consider that which you believe, and doubt. Certainties may become obsolete with new discoveries. Examine that which you are told; is it genuine? Is this page worthy of serious thought, or is it rubbish? Belief is the result of conditioning, an open mind can test belief; it can be depressing and hard work but you’ll feel so much better afterwards.

Go ahead, believe what you like. But don’t blame me.

Essay No. 1: You want to live in the city?

Posted on June 6, 2014 by wp-admin

You want to live in, or near the city? You think there will be work, amenities, access to central entertainments? You may be right, but do you realise what a huge chunk of your income will be spent on suburban living?

Whether you are renting or own your accommodation, 90% of your mail will be bills; hardly a week goes by without some bills, which will be for far more than you would consider spending on yourself. The drain on your resources is enormous, we are all being milked by organisations that have us by the short-and-curlies.

The concentration of us in high-density living is equivalent to battery-farming, and it’s not just the suburbs of the world that are being leached of funds, whole countries are in the grip of global business which cannot be controlled or restricted by governments.

If you feel overpowered by the constant and seemingly unavoidable outlay undermining your income, it is worth considering for a moment the cause of this woe. Bear in mind that this is a planet-wide syndrome, working-folk in all city-suburban communities are suffering.

An article in The Guardian Weekly, 6-6-14, by Gary Younge gives great insight into this condition, and I can only see one escape from its clutches: an escape that is probably impractical, impossible, or merely fanciful for most of us.

Governments around the world have privatised and sold-off most or all of their country’s assets, the assets we use on a daily basis: gas, coal, oil, petrol, diesel, ores of iron, aluminium, all the rare metals, the list is endless. The giant companies that process this raw material into the products we must buy are out of reach of governments, for the most part, and though a trickle of royalty drips into insatiable local coffers, the bulk of enormous profits, which we pay for, disappears into the ether of shareholders and company executives.

Most of the main transactions we make, week by week, are to to businesses sending profits to international shareholders. Banks, transport, even universities are not necessarily owned by, or in, the countries in which they operate.

Read Gary Younge’s piece; a government which attempts to extricate itself from this octopus of outside monopolies will have it’s economy ruined and its people destitute. The unseen landlord will debase the currency, cut off the power, finish trade and collapse all infrastructure. What he doesn’t venture so far as to surmise is the possibility of a government rising from the ashes of a totally wrecked economy, whilst retaining all its assets, becoming the holy grail of society: not just by the people, but for the people, the profits of a country’s labour and resources staying within the country and available for trade. A highly unlikely outcome, but worth dreaming about.

So, escape, in the mean time, because extrication from beneath our profiteering global landlords is never going to happen, because, as a country, we’d all have to agree, and when has that ever happened? Escape means not living in the city. It means being as self-sufficient as possible. It does not mean growing veggies and keeping chooks, though that would help, and be a cathartic link with reality and the great outdoors, away from the screen.

One advantage of the technologies of the recent decade is the achievement of two of the most important factors in self-sufficiency: the generating of electricity and access to world-wide communications. Anywhere. Isolation from high-density living is no longer isolation. This takes money, of course, and is consequently unavailable to most of us, but, if you’re thinking of buying a house…….make sure it’s in the bush, with no sewage-disposal, power, water, or land-line phone available, or garbage collection, or postal delivery; all these ‘services’ imply either direct cost to the householder, or costs encroaching in the future. Any supply other than that self-generated is equivalent to taxation. Once outside services are allowed in, the rateable value rises and the bills multiply.

The nitty-gritty of self-sufficiency is another essay, but eminently doable. The advantage is a tremendous saving of hard-earned cash, the disadvantage is a possible lack of work for some trades. Many on-line and computer-based jobs can operate anywhere. The essence of the proposal is the avoidance of the grip of global monopoly in every-day living, as far as possible. You would be amazed at what can be done.

My own fantasy, never achieved of course, but still a lovely idea, takes place in the country I call home: Australia. There are many neglected and almost deserted outback settlements in Australia, the populace drifted away due to mine closures and other events. The real-estate is almost free, or at least very cheap. I picture a group of like-minded folk choosing their particular places in the settlement and starting a mass re-building and restoration project, including the pub, of course. Could it be done?

These are the criteria: Low rates, tank water, satellite communication, solar power and hot water, bulk fuel purchase, quality building insulation, waterless separating toilets, etc.. No communal living; each dwelling a separate entity as in the city. Once established, the renovated settlement would have to fend off rate rises and ‘services’. Ha ha, great fun. Establish a library, shops, restaurants, sports facilities, anything needed or volunteered, and none with connected services: no infrastructure to build or maintain. Each property- owner fills in the potholes in the road adjacent. No communal responsibility other than to be normally reasonable. Among the communal benefits, if agreed, would be bulk purchases of essential items, in other words, a co-operative; fuel, solar equipment, building materials et cetera bought by the community at bulk prices.

‘Taking over’ a deserted settlement eliminates a mass of expensive bureaucratic work; the grid of roads and subdivisions already exists, but, importantly, all services are disconnected. Titles can be researched and amazed owners contacted for unexpected sale. In order to eliminate future profiteering by outsiders, the entire settlement must be purchased in one action by the new community.

If the original settlement is completely derelict or razed, it matters not. A survey will quickly re-establish boundaries. Each separate subdivision will be issued to the new owners by lottery initially, and the titles re-assigned accordingly; any later combination taking place by swap, sale, or agreement, as in any suburb. This initial process will be critical; the first of the occasions when a joint pooling of a bank will further the new community.

A little exploring of the concept will uncover a bristling of problematic spines. For example; what of the founding-members who put in the initial stake, but take no further part, never becoming settlers? By default, they become investors, diluting the energy of the committed. At this point in my proposal I draw the line at further imaginings, for were a group to actually set out along this path, a massive covenant would have to be drawn up to cover every possible outcome, a normal, and not a frightening process, but a necessary one, one which could take place over many exciting meetings both practical and sociable.

The success of such a venture depends, at its very base, on the irrevocable title of the individual members, to the land they will own in the settlement, for better or worse. All the rest is simply decision-making for the benefit of all.

Restoring The Queensland House: heritage-listed carpentry Brisbane

Posted on April 25, 2014 by wp-admin

We have been restoring and enlarging heritage houses in Brisbane since 1975, and are sticklers for quality and historic accuracy.

Our aim, given owner’s support, is to leave no sign of recent interference on a fine old house; not always possible given the necessities of modern living, but that aim must certainly apply to roof-lines, joinery, cladding, etc., and all internal mouldings for VJ or BJ partitions, belt-rails, skirtings and scotias.

From stumps to ridge-capping we have expert knowledge and construction techniques, supplying plans for council and advice for owners. We are hands-on carpenters and builders, working with fellow-tradesmen to complete a project, building stairs, steps, balustrades, kitchens, bathrooms as required, with particular attention to the character of the existing home.

Please refer to the second edition of ‘The Building of the Queensland House’ for useful advice regarding this type of work.

For information, contact me, Andy, at andrewljenner@gmail.com or Rupert, at jennerrupert@hotmail.com

Photos from a recent job follow……….some serious carpentry on Queenslanders:

Rupert cleaning out checks in stringers with a granny’s tooth.

For an external set of steps to a one-off design, with a particular going and rise, using massive iron-bark, it takes very little extra time and expense to work on-site, where the measurements are!

Finished stringer in position on landing, rot-treated, painted, and showing rebates for treads and risers, and hole for 18mm step-bolt.

All external timber is coated with copper napthenate and oil-primed, including all cuts, rebates and joints, prior to assembly. Unfortunately, using lead paint in joints and housings is illegal, though the best protector of timber. Copper is next best available.

Detail of step landing frame.

Using a traditional technique to build the landing is pretty, and very strong, and the new CCA-treated stumps are foolproof.

Bottom flight in position, strained to landing.

There is a trick to making external steps with risers: the treads have a slope of 2mm down from front to back, for security of use, and a 5mm gap between the back of the tread and the riser to drain off rainwater. Seldom seen but necessary.

Steps with risers, newels and banisters

Steps and balustrades in progress.

Balustrades are built as separate units; the ends of the rails slot into rectangular hardwood pegs set into the posts. There are no nails, screws or bolts into the posts, a regular cause of rot. With a bit of effort and a lever-bar, a section of balustrade may thus be removed to hoist in a grand piano.

Detail of veranda deck construction, joists checked into diagonal bearer.

All deck framing is CCA treated, and joints with copper napthenate. Trip-L-grips, where not seen, are an irreplaceable fix, though not kosher, and oversize sections take out the bounce. A veranda must be safe and secure.

Bearer and joists prior to new roof.

Detail of veranda post, showing rebate and double joist to take edge-board. (inside)

Edge-boards, painted with the balustrades, take the weather well, unlike the projecting end grain of the decking, which deteriorates very quickly. The edge-boards slot neatly into the rebates in the posts, covering the top of the fascia, and sheltering all susceptible timber from sun and rain.

Finished veranda, showing exposed rafters, purlins and hip, simple balustrade, edge-board and deck.

Well, not quite finished: the brackets and capitals for the posts have yet to be chosen. The purlins, in the old style, are checked-in flush with the tops of the rafters and hip, which have a broad section taken off the lower arris. This construction was designed by the owners to be seen, not covered. If you look carefully, the near-left post and section of un-painted head are all that is remaining of the original small veranda, for forensic sake: absolutely every other part is new.

Warning: Over the years we notice relatively new external carpentry has rotted to a horrifying extent, causing great worry and cost to owners. Why this is so is due to a few causes. From the time of building, a Queensland house would survive at least 50 years without damage, why not now? 1) Inferior timber (sapwood, ‘treated’ pine, blackbutt, etc) used 2) No permanent rot-proofing used in joints (lead or arsenic-based oil paint) 3) Water-based paint applied at any stage to external timber No.3 is the worst offender, despite advice to the contrary from painters. 100-year-old cladding exposed to the elements will start decaying from the day it is coated with plastic paint; moisture that has penetrated can not dry out, causing fungal attack. Take note, painters. Oil-based paint or no paint is the rule. Yes, modern plastic paints are excellent, and superior, but never on exposed timber. What is the point of installing expensive external carpentry and joinery if it is to be ruined by the misguided application of plastic paint?

Here are some more work-photos of jobs both heritage and contemporary around Brisbane, thanks to considerate owners who want the best in building practice for their beautiful Queensland houses. Andy and Rupert have constructed all the new carpentry and building that follows……….

Tie-down bolts on old-to-new construction

Repairs to lych-gate

Some re-structuring here……..

during…………

Completed, not painted yet to match existing. Click on and you can see the detail on the new gable.

Andy at the bench, with very clean Volleys. Do carpenters have benches any more?

New gazebo

Building the gazebo was fun, using very large sections of cypress pine for all construction; cypress is a rather neglected timber, however, it is harvested from our native self-generating forests, and has many excellent properties: it is virtually rot- and termite-proof, resisting all weathering-decay. It needs no painting or preserving with poisons, and has the most beautiful smell. We try to use it for all exposed situations where finish and strength are a secondary consideration, but it will outlast all other timbers.

Whole rear of Queenslander extended, with concertina doors and large inside-outside deck.

The frame for the external part of the deck is all Queensland cypress, from Womble Bank.

Multi-level decking.

Steelwork on a non-heritage job; we do all our own on-site welding.

More steel construction.

An hour with the welder is worth two day’s carpentry; there’s the rub. It ain’t pretty but it’s quick and strong.

Rupert fixing a gun-barrel deck; notice the new posts, joists and edge-board, rescuing a previous disaster.

It’s not all work; Andy and electrician mate Mick Hoelscher.

We rely on the other trades in our projects; many are now old friends with invaluable knowledge and reliability. Our trust in their work makes life easy

Pondering the lifting of an unwieldy length of flashing; we fix all our corro, but draw the line at roof-tiles and slate. Rupert, Andy, and Kevin.

Retro balustrade and steps.

New roof and onlooker.

Tricky repairs to inaccessible bay roof.

Here are some illustrations from the second edition of ‘The Building of the Queensland House’, available from many independent bookshops. Google the title for details. John Braben is the artist; his drawings show carpenters at work on Queenslanders over 100 years ago, when the carpentry trade was a real craft, a craft Rupert and I continue to this day.

His Master’s Saw.

Secret-nailing a VJ ceiling.

Chopping propeller wedges.

Boring out the housing on a newel-post with a fettler’s auger.

The Artist, John Braben.

John has a list of artistic credits as long as your arm, and in ‘The Building of the Queensland House’ he has many more fine drawings of early Brisbane carpentry, including the landscape of Red Hill which wraps the cover.

Veranda post detail

25th June 2014 Rupert and I have decided to do a letter-box drop locally, targetting those beautiful old Queensland houses that are missing all the intricate veranda detail that makes them so attractive; this is what we’re saying…………

There are so many beautifully preserved old Queenslanders on our streets, except, that is, for the finishing of the veranda. I don’t know why this is so. Can the owners a) not want it, b) not afford it, c) not realise it is missing, or d) not care?

Bracket for double post

When the house next door is immaculate in its historic finery, it is hard to believe the lack is deliberate. Anyway, we have been gently pointing out in our unsolicited junk trash mail that the staggeringly fine houses in question are missing their vital post brackets and capitals, the replacement of which would increase the value a thousandfold, and be the envy of the neighbourhood……….to no avail so far, but we’re hoping for a job or two for the effort.

Seriously, once the veranda decorations are applied, it does make a huge difference to the aspect of the facade. There are many styles of many eras to choose from; it would be a mistake to put 1890 brackets on a 1930 house, for example, but the original builders would never have left off those details.

We are particular about all replacement carpentry and joinery in heritage houses. There are important points to be aware of, even with a simple fixture like a post bracket….. 1) Brackets must be cut ‘on the bias’, the grain running diagonally. 2) The finished piece must be treated all round with CCA or copper napthenate. 3) Oil primers and paints only must be used. 4) The brackets should be painted the same (light) colour as the posts and the capital mouldings.

Some brackets, and their position relative to the work.

We have good reasons for all the above, even no. 4. Brackets are often seen painted a dark colour, even charcoal-grey. May as well not have them, being invisible. The post fixtures represent a form of classic column, being an intrinsic part of the post, and must therefore be painted as one. You wouldn’t paint the spokes of a wheel in different colours.

More Brackets drawn from Brisbane houses 1880-1930.

Many of these brackets were popular in different periods. The two similar patterns on the left of the top and middle rows were common over a 40-year span. As fashions changed, styles became more simple until, in the 1940s these brackets were replaced by very plain curved or angular sweeps across the veranda-head from post to post.

As a footnote, and supporting other blogs concerning the Queensland house, it must be apparent that the state has been losing its heritage constantly over the last forty-odd years as zoning regulations literally clear the way for multiple-dwelling development.

Whole inner-suburb blocks in Brisbane now have but a few of the original houses, and I use the word ‘original’ explicitly, because, in every case, the houses being demolished were and are the very first to be built on their sites. Historic documents show open paddocks and bush where no previous architecture has ever existed.

The Queensland house was a pioneering project, and is now part of our history. Local planning treats this invaluable heritage as ‘slum-clearance’ with the crass bravado of third-world gluttony for the New. The only safeguard for our indigenous domestic houses lies with the householders themselves.

It is essential, if our towns and cities wish to retain any last semblance of the historic credentials of the pioneer settlers, that the fortunate present owners recognise the treasure they possess. Each stump, each vee-joint board, each piece of hoop-pine or spotty-gum tongue-and-groove flooring, was cut from the surrounding scrub, processed in a bush sawmill and machine shop, and assembled by expert carpenters who were themselves New Chums. To treat these houses with disrespect is a crime and an insult to the battlers who created our communities.

Growing Organic Avocados

Posted on March 14, 2014 by wp-admin

Seven year-old Hass crop

Introduction: The following is a description of an attempt to grow avocados organically, without irrigation, pesticides or fertilizers. Only time will tell whether the venture is foolish. Last season produced the first tiny ‘commercial’ crop, filling one cubic metre bin for packing. As more trees come into production, more problems and setbacks will arise, some worrying, some serious. Under the circumstances, the operation must be treated as an experiment, not a financial investment, however, obviously the hope is for future success and the reward of quality organic produce. Subscribing to Avocados Australia Limited, an invaluable body publishing ‘Talking Avocados’, the magazine of current technology for commercial production, makes me realise that I am perhaps on the lunatic fringe of farming, at the mercy of every known natural setback. On the positive side, having seen, in the area, small neglected plantations run wild for many years, yet still capable of being cropped in a small way, and also garden trees powering on with no TLC or attention of any kind, promised an intermediate regime of careful husbandry to improve the chances of commercial viability without interfering with the health of the trees, the fruit, the soil, or most importantly, the indigenous and introduced bees and other beneficial pollinating insects. The Area: The plantation is in Ravensbourne, near Toowoomba in Queensland, Australia, an area popular for commercial operations. The site is a hilltop of dense vine-forest at about 800M above sea-level, often mist-shrouded. The trees are in either rows or quincunx, in open clearings and tree-shaded positions. Importantly, virgin forest surrounds the clearings. The Climate: After many years of low rainfall, a decade ago there was a mysterious and welcome change, bringing up to 1500mm annually recently: a tremendous amount. This change cannot be relied on as being permanent, and may revert to past conditions. Since January this year, now March 2014, there has been less than 100mm in what would normally be the wet season. Frost in winter is light but consistent on small exposed areas, temperatures rarely dipping below minus one degree C, or above 38 degrees. The Soil: Red volcanic loam with widespread basalt bombs of all sizes up to a metre in diameter. Some parts are cluttered with these rounded rocks, others free. On being uncovered the bombs craze, crack, and de-shell over the years. The soil is tough when dry, but soft and easy to dig when moist, and resists compaction by tractor-wheels etc. There is virtually no run-off in all but the heaviest storms, making it a rare event that fills the dam. Rain disappears the instant it hits the ground. First Plantings: Seven years ago the first grafted plants were put in, mostly Hass. Great liberties were taken with the rules, against all advice from the literature and nursery, and I believe the risks were worth it. Having no irrigation it seemed unwise to plant high on mounds and risk the inevitable dessication by sun and wind, so on the contrary, holes were augered in conical depressions, both to catch rain and to keep roots deep and hopefully in moist ground. In addition, the nursery potting mix was discarded, and naked roots watered into the native soil with a dilute seaweed solution. The reason for this was a result of plantings becoming dry-stressed within days: the nursery mix, being designed to instantly shed excess water, acted as an insulation preventing absorption from the surrounding soil. This mix is only of use with irrigation, even then there is the danger of waterlogging. The sooner roots penetrate natural ground the better chance of survival. Later plantings compromised the ‘naked root’ system by just giving the de-bagged roots a light wash to expose them to the soil. This has proved successful. Setbacks: All was going well for three years, then frost killed the scions of fifty-odd trees. A few survived, a few died, most sprouted from the rootstock. All attempts to re-graft failed; esoteric knowledge is required, and I don’t have it. New plantings in the frosty areas have survived by the simple technique of having a very scruffy plantation; tall grasses and weeds were allowed to grow up around the little trees. Some top leaves may get burned, but the weeds protect the scions. This fix also had another surprising advantage, during a much more severe setback. Some months after the frost caused the death of those new avos, I was a proud horticulturalist with a model plantation of bowling-green lawns and neat trees tied to supporting posts. Admittedly the weeds were allowed in frosty areas, as a hopeful protection, but nothing prepared me for the shock that happened after a week away. Some time during that week, and only then, hundreds of trees were ring-barked from the ground to 3-400mm up the trunk: most of the plantation at the time.

Typical ring-bark of young tree.

Small tooth-marks were obvious, though I never had proof of the actual animals, and there must have been many of them to do such damage. The suspects were rabbits, hares, bandicoots. Rabbits are seldom seen, there are a few hares, surely not enough to get through all that bark, and many bandicoots……but why that one particular week? Possums have stripped young trees from the top down, but not causing more than nuisance damage. Deer? Not yet. Very little further ringbarking has happened since, and new plantings have been protected with wire mesh. A ring-barked tree will take years to die, if the sapwood is undamaged. During that time avocados make desperate efforts to form a bark link from the roots to the undamaged section. Tiny remnants left by the teeth-marks grow and join, and bark grows both down and up the stripped patch. If a link is formed, the tree will eventually survive; if not, there’s no hope, though the rootstock will sprout. About half of the trees died a two-year death. Of the hundreds of thousands of new trees in commercial plantations I have seen none with any protection. Phytophthora: This seems to be a disease of grafted-stock plantations and irrigation, not of wildings or garden trees, and the protection against it the use of phosphoric acid in sprays and hypodermic syringes. Unlike the ring-barking event, phytophthora can kill a small tree stone dead in a few days; a more mature tree takes longer and can therefore be saved. The nurseries are now selling resistant rootstock, but it seems at present the safeguard is regular and constant application of phosphor. I have lost fewer trees to this endemic problem than to other events, and am cautiously ignoring it at present, but am prepared to burst into action. The quick-draining soil and lack of irrigation are working in my favour for the moment, but from week to week the situation could change. Organic disadvantages: Recent plantings have not mollycoddled the young trees; a fatalistic attitude has taken over, but the basic technique has proved itself for the conditions stated previously. The disadvantages of the system are as follows: Trees take a long time to establish, and therefore fruit. Losses and consequent re-planting is wasteful, expensive, and labour-intensive. Wild animals cause damage and loss. Monocultures suffer less. Fruiting may be reduced without artificial support. Organic advantages: Trees develop strong far-reaching roots which act as a buffer to climate change. Soil remains active, mulch breakdown is not hindered by artificial fertilizers. Pollinators from surrounding bush are not endangered Small native birds with nests in the surrounding bush (and in the actual avocado trees) are year-round predators on fruit-spotting insects, and thrive in the un-spoilt conditions. The farmer herself, or himself, has a better, safer, healthier work environment. The fruit of the labour is more valuable in every way. This Plantation: ………..will be ‘In-certification’ later this year, with luck; an expensive operation but necessary to access market distribution in the future, by which time the kindly local packing-shed may have an organic outlet. But, first, the avos. Anything could go wrong. I will keep this site going and would be very keen to hear from any like-growers with information. Being annoyingly self-sufficient I consequently make many unnecessary mistakes and welcome advice.

Quincunx of hass

It’s now nearing the end of April and despite the relative lack of rain there is a substantial difference between the photos above and the actual plantation; there has been much growth. Walking and constantly checking for disasters I hadn’t noticed that the things are actually growing. And fruiting. There are good-sized avos on the more mature trees, with three or four months to go. Some of last season’s crop, left hanging by accident, were excellent and rich eating even by March this year. Come July I’m hoping to be ‘in certification’, and able to sell the good stuff………if there is any. Are farmers naturally negative and superstitious? It wouldn’t do to count any chooks.

Risen from the dead.

Three stumps like this, assumed to be dead from phytophthera, after six months suddenly sprouted what looks like healthy growth. Absolutely no input from me, no Agrifos.

Another resurrection.

This growth in just over a week, in cold weather nearing winter. Strange.

Reed, May 3rd, 2014.

Lamb-Hass, May 3rd, 2014

Pinkerton May 3rd 2014.

I have been picking many varieties recently for home use, and for friends; a few every week to have a ripening supply. It is too early, really; the crop should stay on the tree til at least August or September, but they ripen well, after two or three weeks, and though a bit watery/oily, they are delicious. Today (20th May) I picked a bag of full-sized fruit that may not be ripe for weeks………..in the mean time others are ready. In August, though, the fruit will ripen in 10 to 14 days, without gassing, which is unnecessary.

Guess the cause of the symptom……….

This gum on the plantation looks sad: die-back? Drought? Waterlogging? Storm, lightning, what? I have seen many tall gums looking like this in many parts of Australia, and assumed that drought was the cause, but I was watching when this actually happened. It took ten minutes of hail. The leaves were mostly all still on the tree, but the branches were coated in ice for an hour or so. Over the next weeks the bark began to fall off the affected branches. The leafy branches remaining were on the lea side, and somewhat protected. New growth is very slowly appearing a year after the event. Many tall gums in the area look the same. Interestingly, most of the avos were ok, though many had abraded bark from the hailstones. None died.

Lightning destruction.

This tree really was hit by lightning. It grew on a small ridge that seems to attract strikes, particularly on a neighbour’s place. I have to have special shunts and protectors to safeguard my solar power supply during storms; small devices were constantly failing as thunder-clouds surged overhead. So far

16 June 2014 As a ‘quality control’ exercise I have taken samples of the various varieties in fruit at present. Owing to a number of factors some of the types are uncertain; it was all getting out of control some time ago and my records were getting confused. Failures due to frost, animal ring-barking, phytophthera, unknown causes and the occasional mowing mistake (oh shit) were at various times replaced, mostly by hass, and in a few cases three times. Yes three consecutive plantings in the same position to maintain the plantation; neither practical nor economic. Things have improved since then.

Unsure of this variety at present

On the left are some of the unknown ones; I’ll be able to dig out my original records I hope.

Fuerte

It’s early for picking; judging by last year’s little crop they can be left on the trees for at least three months without deterioration, unless by the weather.

Edranol

Most of the fruit has reached its full size by now. The samples shown will be opened and photographed as they ripen, to check for seed size and wasp damage.

Reed

The reed variety below are in different stages of growth from tree to tree. Whether the smaller fruit will continue to grow through the winter is doubtful. There were wurtz planted in this area, which could be the smaller type.

Lamb-Hass

The lamb-hass were expensive to buy and slow to grow but are doing well. They are bulkier than the hass and I believe have a smaller seed; we’ll see when they ripen. I hate wasting the beautiful fruit by sacrificing for science.

Pinkerton

Pinkertons are not fruiting prolifically, but it is early days for them.

Hass

I’m very interested in the two home-grown varieties below. The hass are looking after themselves and hopefully will look after me, but the Russet look very hopeful. These two avos weigh over half a Kg each, and have a very attractive russet bloom on the sunny side. I suspect that they will be disappointing when ripe, but you never know.

New variety Russet Jenner yet to be tested

New variety Smooth Jenner yet to be tested

The same goes for these six beauties above. A shape like hass but with an even, glossy smoothness. This is a young tree’s first crop; not one fruit last year, and now it is heavy with hundreds of avos. Dreaming of a successful sport is harmless; like hoping for the winning ticket! All will be revealed in a week or two……..watch this space.

New variety Pear Jenner of doubtful viability, yet to be tested

.These on the left I’m pretty certain are crap; The tree will survive for one more season, then if no good, it’s firewood.

21 June 2014

The Russet wilding (above) picked on the 14th of June ripened today; very quick, too quick to be commercially viable, however, on cutting, there are good points. The skin is firm but not thick, and peels easily, the seed is large but not out of proportion for the size of fruit, and the flesh is pale, smooth and creamy with no sign of stringyness associated with many wildings, and pleasantly nutty. The cut avocado, below, will be compared with the uncut , which I shall leave in its ripening state at room temperature for a few days to assess its keeping qualities. The other wildings ‘Smooth’ are still firm.

Cut ripe Russet

Bearing in mind that the two ‘Russets’ on the left weigh half a kilogram it certainly is a tree worth keeping and perhaps grafting from. It will be very interesting to see how it fares next year, meanwhile I’m waiting for the ‘Smooth’ to ripen for testing; I picked a few, so I can monitor its keeping qualities from picking-to-ripening.

I get to eat them, too. Delicious.

Two thoughts have occurred to me at the plantation. The first concerns the burrows at the base of many avocados; perhaps the digging creatures (rodents, bandicoots?) are eating the roots, causing die-back of parts or all of the tree above, which I have been attributing to phytophthera. How to test this?

Secondly, the recent few days of misty, drizzly grey weather has put but a smidgin in the gauge, at the most 5mm on any day, yet the ground becomes soaked under the tree-cover; a very useful effect: the mist condenses on the leaves and branches and falls in heavy drops, though in the open there is no actual rain. It would be difficult to test without a gauge of 2 or 3 square metres set under the canopy, but I recon the actual rainfall would be two or three times that in the open. The forest is self-maintaining, as will be the plantation.

Ripe Edranol?

25th June 2014: Picked on the 14th (see above) this Edranol is just ripening, which gives it eleven to fourteen days shelf-life from picking, at room temperature. The seed is unsatisfactorily large, possibly this particular tree is inferior, but I would assume the fruit is a wilding if I hadn’t paid good money for the grafted tree.

2nd July 2014 The wilding Smooth pictured below are now just ripening without refrigeration, and are remarkably good, with a very small seed, good tough skin that peels easily, and firm, oily flesh which is not mushy or wet. The tree had a laden first crop which has taken 18 days since picking for the first ripening; others are still firm, so a 20-day period is useful. Below is a photo of the first cut ripe Smooth;

Ripe ‘Smooth’ wilding

11th July 2014

There will be frosts up on the hill; I’ve been away so I don’t know what damage has been done, if any: new trees planted years ago were all lost in frost areas, the graft killed. I hope the replacements are tough enough to cope.

The Lamb-Hass are just ripening; they were picked on the 14th June, nearly a month ago, without refrigeration. I have noticed that these and the Smooth are shrinking slightly on ripening, causing vertical furrowing of the skin, but with no deterioration of the flesh. Perhaps as a result of being picked too early? I’ll see how the ones remaining on the trees behave.

25th August 2014 Getting near picking time. Possibly will be certified Organic soon, which means lots of extra work. The cost has been huge, out of all proportion to the value of the fruit, but I’m thinking of the future…..or am I mad?

13th September 2014 This is a very frustrating period, waiting, waiting, and tying many ends together, and accumulating stuff to tackle the harvest. Time is running out for an ideal picking date, but I’m hoping that the cooler temperatures and elevation will hold the fruit safely for some time yet.

The Certification Organic-In-Conversion has arrived. Two big boxes are ready for the tractor-trailer, total volume 1Cu. M.
Tables ready for bush packing.
Scales and cartons ready.
Labels almost ready.
The distributors at Rocklea have their forms and accreditation posted: no contact from them yet.
Waiting, waiting.

CONTINUES WITH NEWS FROM FEBRUARY 2015

Last year’s work and crop was encouraging; the plantation is now ‘In Certification’, a few more young trees bore their first fruit to add to the small promising total, and the distributors at Rocklea Markets were helpful, praising the quality, and paying me money.

There are still no chemicals of any sort being used for any reason on the trees. I have considered injecting a few sad specimens with phosphoric acid, but am holding off as they seem to be repairing themselves……..an unlikely event, I’ll admit.

Late last year there was no penetrating rain for months, and the new plantings were suffering badly, there being no irrigation. Few were dying, but all were on the point of dying, until finally in December good rain came, and now all are slowly reviving. Commercially this situation is unacceptable, but from my point of view, the trees are becoming very resistant and tough, if slow, and therefore viably productive of organic fruit in the future.

This summer has been unusual, in ways both good and bad and annoying. Good, in that there has been excellent healthy growth of the maturing trees, bad in that I will have virtually no crop this year, and annoying because of the staggering weed growth.

No crop: a hailstorm travelled through, knocking off all the flowers, and scarring the setting fruit, on all varieties, sparing none. No damage was done otherwise, and the trees powered on………but no crop.

Weed growth: I’ve never seen anything like it in previous years. It does no harm, and when mowed produces good green mulch, but this rampant growth overtopped and totally obscured the new and 2-year-old plantings in a very short time, making it a nightmare to clear without mowing down the avos too. Ok, so I was away for a month, but this was ridiculous. Cobbler’s pegs seven feet high, tobacco plants to eight and nine feet, creepers everywhere. If it weren’t for the careful setting-out of the rows I would have had no idea where the bloody trees were.

It used to take three days to mow the entire place; this time I need a fortnight of hard work.

So, there’s all winter to get the place into shape, and wonder what to do with the small, battered crop…..just how many avos can I eat? There will be a tiny amount to sell.

MARCH 2015

The hailstorm mentioned above has certainly cancelled this year’s crop, though the scarred fruit is all growing well. As the fruit gets bigger the scars are relatively smaller:some consolation! But I don’t think they’ll be saleable. Ah well……next year.

JULY 2015

Well, here is a branch of the recent crop previously and fancifully called Russet Jenner, ha ha, and they do look beautiful, except for the fact that the hail knocked off most of the setting fruit, including all the other trees.

I have approached Birdwood nursery, where I bought all the stock, to see if they would help, for a price, to make grafts from this tree…….as yet I have had no reply.

As I have mentioned, all previous attempts to graft have failed, and the googled info has no new techniques for accomplishing this. There are secrets to this trade, and wisely so, otherwise everyone would set up shop. Still, one must pay for skill.

JULY 2018 UPDATE ON PLANTATION.

I notice the seasons have been flying past, the poor blog neglected; Acts of God, alias Weather, have set things back financially. Two years running hail has attacked my newly-hatched avos, fresh-formed from the flower, knocking off flowers, buds, tiny fruit, and wounding those that hung on. Nevertheless a couple of tonnes has gone to market at excellent prices……..a situation that cannot last.

Hundreds of thousands of avo trees are being planted in Australia alone; inevitably there will be a glut in the future. Until then, I’m making hay while the sun shines.

My hard and expensive past work is finally starting to earn a bit of money. Bar hail, things would be better, but the trees themselves are fine, and each year more and more are bearing fruit, though it will be a long time before they are all on line.

My picking plan is drastically altered. I now pick the largest fruit from each tree as it reaches a good size, so the harvest looks like being spread over six months or more. Most of the fruiting trees have been picked three times so far, in a relaxed weekly fashion: a day preparing boxes, two days picking, a day packing, a day to market. This is for half a tonne, sometimes less. Flat out, on my own, I can see a tonne a week processed, for a good income at today’s prices. It can’t last.

My last pick was over 500kg a couple of weeks ago. There’s still a lot of small fruit on the trees which I’m hoping (as I write) this marvellous rain will grow to a good size, if it’s not too late: the ground was very dry. So far the new regime has proved ok with the market and with me, spreading the season over months. The habits of different varieties helps too; one huge Reed tree has given four pickings, and more to come. Some varieties are early, some late. Each year more trees bear fruit, a lovely bounty to look forward to for a long time to come.

I was too optimistic with under-story planting; not a good idea. Avos grow to the sun before they fruit. I’m considering getting rid of inter-plantation forest trees, and some on the boundaries; The forest trees of many varieties have grown enormously over the years, out-shading the slow avos.

My yearly expensive ($1500) Organic Certification inspection is done; a necessary outlay while prices are good, but doubtful in the future.

For 2018, despite hail, the work has produced a small income. But. Soon the van and tractor will break down, etc. Ah well. If only the avos will outpace the expences……

UPDATE NEW YEAR 2019-2020

No doubt the news is common knowledge now, though I predicted it in a blog on July 2019. We are in a disastrous drought in Queensland and NSW. Disastrous for all farmers, and for me.

The avos are buggered. This is the fourth consecutive year in which the weather has defeated enterprise; in order: hail, hail, a fortnight of icy cold during flowering and setting of fruit (it all dropped off), and now, the worst of the lot, drought, that is at this moment killing many of my trees and putting the remainder in the balance.

Since long before the setting of the berries no rain has fallen until right now; 60mm last week, which may or may not save many trees. So the picture is of naked leafless trees with tiny 30mm fruit dangling desperately in the wind. These are the best trees; some 100 are dead, totally dried out: mostly the smallest, planted hopefully within the forest enclosures. But the forest has sucked the ground dry.

My recent blogs on ‘Qld. drought’ will explain the situation, and the fact that terrible fires have scourged the country, (and missed my place by two kilometres…….this time). The country has been through similar devastation in the 1890′s, well and tragically described by Henry Lawson in his stories and poetry: an eyewitness of greater impact than all the current tv coverage.

So I fear for my place. All the work of 20 years may come to nothing. The fact that my pond and dam have been dry for over five years should have been a warning. Neighbours are running out of bore-water for irrigation; their trees and crops will go suddenly, when they go. Mine at least have good roots, but time will tell.

Recently I set up my ‘pathetic’ bore. I put it in (over 90 metres deep), cased and equipped, years ago, on a whim, and when I had cash. As a toy, really. But now I realise the thousand litres per hour is a very useful amount should my rainwater tank get low. The bore can be sucked dry after a few thousand, but has always filled the next day, so I got to work and fitted it up with a slab, shed, tank and pump, (the old stationary-engine and antique pump from the ‘dam’), and 150M of pipe to the house-tank. So, there’s water for humans, if not agriculture, and it’s excellent drinking water. I may line the pond, next.

On top of these worries, for the first time I have actually seen a deer grazing on the block; under the fig tree just by the chalet. A doe, though there must be stags too, which have broken-off the tops of a few small trees. What damage will they cause in the future? Will they eat the avo-trees, or the bark off them? Fire must be driving them up here. Also, just a day ago, a dingo by the dam……..so much for the baiting campaign………all fuss, no results, typical bureaucracy.

So, a new year in a day or two. Ravensbourne threatened by drought, fire, deer, possums, dingos, hares and rabbits, and a total loss of the fourth avo crop, and possibly the trees too, as well as the forest, house, and infrastructure if a fire goes through………wonderful.

How strange to read the start of this blog again now. Despite all the problems the plantation was lush and green and fecund, and the thought of drought was laughable in one of the most consistently moist areas of Queensland. No-one could have predicted, or even considered such a change, in such a short time. Tragically, this looks to be a severe step in the drying of our climate, and a permanent one, with no reverting to previous rainfall totals. Time will tell, and blogs.

Land Rover Forward Control

Posted on October 5, 2013 by wp-admin

I bought this lumbering beast as a go-anywhere family wagon; it did, and broke a dozen half-shafts on the way, and terrified other road-users when it lurched around corners.

After a couple of years lurching, I saw the light, and decided to remove the double-skin of steel body and other extraneous crap. After cutting all tie-down bolts, at the tip a friendly dozer-driver lifted off the superstructure, which weighed 1¼ tons. She rose 4″ on the rear springs and 2″ on the front.

A new/old cabin , new alloy tray, panel-beating and shiny paint revealed a different creature; speedy acceleration, no lurching, no more broken shafts, and half the fuel consumption.

The Forward Control is really a marvellous machine. Low-tech, easily maintained, tough, light, capable of carrying a ton anywhere, through 4′ of water or more.

I wish I still had it!

Swedish (Haiti?) Ketch ‘Paro’a’

Posted on October 5, 2013 by wp-admin

The yacht PARO’A, Swedish ketch design.

Built app. 1960-65 at Rockhampton Queensland Australia.

Superbly constructed of Eungella gum, a ‘double-ender’.

33′ waterline, 40′ o/a, 13 tons, massive lead keel.

Where is she now? Who built her? What history? Why was she neglected?

I was her owner for nearly ten years of work, freedom and fun, from the early 1980s. After six months of full-time repairs and restoration (where did I get the time and money?) at the easy-going QCYC, she was the prettiest and most eager boat to sail. Because of her sharp lines and substantial weight, she would keep her way close-hauled in the awful Moreton Bay chop which would drive most craft home after 40 knots. We once bashed back from Tangalooma with 5 trawlers lined up in our leveled-out wake, on an otherwise deserted bay.

During initial repairs, from the bilge I dug out and removed well over a ton of weird, frighteningly-heavy yellowish-brown caked substance, added for extra ballast: why? What was it? Paro’a lifted 6″ from her water-line and gained 5 knots. Remember this if you read my Land Rover Blog.

Many memories and stories and trips. My best wishes to her and whoever sails her.

June, 2014: I have been contacted recently by Linus, another owner of Paro’a for many years, who has much interesting information, memories and photographs of the yacht. He is obviously a sailor of knowledge and practical experience, and has also spent time and energy keeping Paro’a afloat. With his permission I may include our conversations and pictures on the blog.

Celestial Navigation Work Forms

Posted on October 5, 2013 by wp-admin

Astral, or Celestial Navigation : finding your way, or your position on the planet, by observation of heavenly bodies; that is, the stars, the sun, the planets, or the moon, (not Elle McPherson), using as tools the sextant, chronometer, and sight reduction tables.

The Science of astral navigation as described above is now virtually obsolete, since satellite navigation using pre-programmed computing devices has superseded the sextant.

When, as occasionally happens, electronic navigation and communication devices are rendered inoperative by adverse conditions at sea (i.e. they get wet), the study of sight reduction may be a life-saving exercise.

The Student will find suitable information to research this subject, however, there have never been available the absolutely necessary logical worksheets on which to enter information and calculation. Old admiralty forms provide no guidance, though since publication (25 years ago now) others have been devised, but none so concise and inclusive of all possible data. Careful reading of the two worksheets will reveal how every contingency is allowed for, step by step.

The Worksheets were originally printed in blocks of 50 and sold for a nominal price. The first sheet contains introductory instructions for use, each other leaf has the worksheet on the recto, and noon sight form on the verso, bound A5 and perforated for a standard folder.

The Reader is welcome to reproduce these forms free of any charge or caveat, with my best wishes. But think of the labour that went into designing them!

The Building of The Queensland House

Posted on December 22, 2012 by wp-admin

The Building of the Queensland House: a carpentry history of the Queenslander.

Above is the cover, illustrated and designed by John Braben, of the book, and my first blog, which gives me the opportunity of offering some information.
As the title explains, the book is a practical guide to the classic domestic architecture of the state of Queensland, the north-east chunk of Australia. It is not a pretty assembly of photogenic cupolas in garden settings, but a hands-on day-to-day diary of the blokes and their trade, cuts, bruises, falls and all. The specific type of house in question was being built from approximately 1880 to 1920, give or take a few years: this era defines the style.

No new Queenslanders, and fewer originals.
The shame is that, not only was the book not written seventy years ago, but that it was written by me. I have never built a Queensland house; it’s possible that no-one alive has. There are poor copies, on skinny steel posts, with rooms lacking proper height, but no proper Queenslanders. I have built every part, but not the whole, if that makes sense. The shame is that even now the character of the old suburbs is degrading as more and more old places are either demolished or used as stage-sets for outrageous ‘statements’ in steel and glass. A French, German or English suburb of typically indigenous architecture would be preserved to the last nail.

Queensland without its weatherboard cottages would be the bland featureless anonymity of the new housing estates. Have you seen the number of traditional Queensland houses legally demolished every year as a result of zoning decisions made decades ago? Each unit block occupies land pioneered by the early carpenters, the builders of our original domestic architecture. In any other country this heritage would be treasured rather than trashed for the slums of the future.

So the book shines a light on the work and materials that go into The Building of the Queensland House, in the hope that those who love the wood-and-corro cottages are not in the minority. There are three parts; the historic setting of the building site a hundred years ago, the carpentry and construction details necessary for accurate restoration, and much advice on enlarging a small cottage to a grand design without wrecking the neighbourhood.

Below: me, Andy, feeling sore……

John has many fine illustrations throughout: the full cover above, for example, shows a bullock-team delivering the stumps to the site in the Brisbane suburb of Red Hill, around 1900, with the scaffolding of the future St Brigit’s church in the background. Dozens of construction-drawings and sections spatter the text, and pages of photographs of all the tools of the trade show what went into the chippies’ kit, box, and bast. Stories and mishaps of the trade, pathetic jokes and instructions on avoiding injury add some Vegemite to the dry bread of scarfs, mortises and rebates.

To my surprise and pleasure, the book is nearly sold out, thanks to the support of local booksellers like Black Cat in Paddington, the BookBank in Toowong, and the unlikely but excellent Wooloongabba Antiques Centre. An attack of hubris has pushed me, for better or worse, to a Second Edition, which if successful will earn me a few dollars a copy, rather than the $1.50 loss that I nevertheless consider worthwhile for the fun of being a Norther. Or, a garage full of expensive wood-pulp. The second edition, to help sales, will be called ‘Wood: fifty shades of brown’.
The books are available from;

The BookBank, Toowong, 07 3870 0050……..Sad note: closed. Hopefully to re-open at a new location.
Wooloongabba Antique Centre 07 3392 1114
Paddington Antique Centre 3369 8088
New Farm Editions, 07 3254 2122
River Bend, Bulimba 07 3899 8555 has one copy which they can neither find nor, obviously, sell. Not available from here, but you could try.
Avid Reader, West End 07 3846 3422
Folio, Brisbane City 07 3221 1368
Timber Qld. Fortitude Valley, 073358 7906
New Farm Editions, 07 3254 2122
Books of Buderim, 07 5445 1625
Nook and Cranny, Goondiwindi, 07 4671 5690
Berkelouws, Eumundi, 07 5442 8366
The Station Store, Longreach, 07 4658 2006
The Queensland Museum Shop, Brisbane, 07 3840 7729 Mary Who,Townsville,07 4771 3824
Maleny Bookshop, 07 5494 3666
Ideology, Banyo, 0402 511 342
The State Library of Queensland Shop, 07 3840 The Restoration Station Waterworks Road Ashgrove 3366 5855 Paddington Hardware

Here are some illustrations from the book, a few: there are very many drawings, plans, elevations, sections and photographs from life and from hundred-year-old books dealing with carpentry and allied business.

(MYSTERIOUSLY, THESE ILLUSTRATIONS HAVE DISAPPEARED FROM THE BLOG: WHY?)

Since the above info, and the extended list of kind booksellers, the second edition is now available and trickling out into the world.

The new book has an extra chapter on ‘Maintenance’, more illustrations, additions, and excellent drawings by John Braben. Most of the embarrassing typos are expunged, though inevitably new ones appear. Bugger.

John Braben, the artist-illustrator

When I held the new edition, I was puzzled by the fact that despite all the extra pages the book was exactly the same thickness as the first, with the same heavy quality stock used: the reason, thinner paper. A weightier book, though, by 40 grams or so. Same price.

The printer is local, not overseas: Clark & Mackay in Rocklea, Brisbane, who did wonders with my typesetting and produced the second edition, from start to finish, in a fortnight. I believe in supporting Queensland independent businesses, which is why the book is only available from shops.

The bookshops listed above have been very kind to the book, promoting and displaying it where possible. Some have featured ‘meet the author’ events which I find scary but good fun; interesting people turn up with insightful queries, and knowledge is gained all round.
My pallet-loads of the second edition are slowly dwindling as a steady flow stocks shelves around Queensland; as yet no shop in the other states has chanced to sell this admittedly parochial work, but please call me on 0427 42 43 40 if you’re interested.

Update June 2014

The independent bookshops above have been very loyal, with regular orders coming through. The 2nd edition is half sold and my printing costs have been well covered. Sales are never going to be more than pocket-money, but here’s my problem: there is no slowing-down of orders as I expected, neither is there an encouraging surge in popularity, so, when this printing runs out, do I go to the great expense of a 3rd edition? Can I afford it?

A 3rd print would be fun, because there’s more information accumulated that I must include, and more essential Braben illustrations. Could I afford to do it, and if done, would the small-but-steady sales continue? Or would I be stuck with a very expensive pile of books? And a small run is not the answer, because the cost is very high; the more, the cheaper. An acceleration of sales would give me the green light!

This I suppose is the quandary of the publishing industry, in miniature, for which I have great sympathy.

It is gratifying to get feedback from interesting and unexpected sources. Uni students, to whom the book has relevance in their course, ditto journalism students, young carpenters finding info non-existent in the current trade, bookshops tell me of overseas requests, particularly from Black Cat in Paddington, Brisbane. There has been interest from architects who have been most respectful to a lowly chippy. SAD NOTE to the foregoing: Black Cat has now closed, beaten by the congestion and lack of parking. It’s ironic that the growing popularity of the Paddo main drag has actually resulted in the closure of many shops, and if you’re on a mission to get a book for a present, no chance, it’s chokka.

But new outlets appear, and Jimmy Poulos from the magnificent Restoration Station on Waterworks Rd in Ashgrove now stocks the book, though the proprietor himself is thoroughly expert in Queensland House architecture.

I’m answering my own questions here; there should be a 3rd print!

May 2015 Well the 2nd edition is getting near the end; the last boxes on the last pallet are dwindling. Though another, enlarged edition would be great to publish, the small but consistent sales mean boxes of books occupy space for months and months, and every delivery is usually ten or so books, occasionally a box. If the orders would stop I’d feel resigned to no new edition, but they don’t stop! And the constant dripping is painful!

What to do? It’s still a quandary. Well, since writing this, I had to make a decision.

Update October 2015

In the last couple of months something has happened, and the remaining books have been selling at record speed: I have no idea why. So a third edition is ready for printing, despite the huge cost. It takes an awful number of sales before I break even, that’s the problem. Eventually I make a quid, but that seems to get lost in the bills that pile up in the mail: a lump sum is useful, eh.

In a way I’m glad, because there is a heap of stuff missing from the previous editions that really needed to go in. (The entire chapter on ‘Steps’ is re-written, plus more info, illustrations and drawings from John) This means extra pages and cost, of course, weight and thickness too, so extra postage, but it is worthwhile.

Sadly, bookshops are still closing, but the remaining ones are hanging in and benefiting from the extra trade. Because of its content, hardware shops are now stocking the book, which is marvellous; who’d have thought?

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