Franklin House

(Rated G incidently)

Franklin House, in Franklin Village, on the edge of Launceston. Heading south, there's about a handful of houses before the city boundary.

This was the first property obtained by the National Trust in Tasmania, when it was it was rescued about 1960.




Built in the 1830s, it's a typical Georgian "gentleman's cottage", with a central hallway that the room open off. Upstairs is a little different. Two bedrooms open off the landing, as you'd expect, but the front two rooms joins together to make one large living room, that can be divided with a wooden screen that folds back.

The other interesting room, is on the far left there. It was a school for boys, where all the proper family sent their sons.



At the rear of the house, there's an open courtyard with a wing on each side.



North side (straight into the sun, yay)



with the stable on the end





The stable window is interesting. It looks like you turn the knob and the sticks hold up the louvres.



The other wing



With the kitchen up against the house.



The gardens are quite lovely, in season.

SV May Queen

One set of photos I forgot to post from the Wooden Boat Festival. (By 'forgot' I mean I didn't get a good photo of the whole ship on the day, so I had to look through old ones to find one and I hadn't got around to it, and I also wanted to incorporate some of the information from the brochure, but I have no idea where it is and the website it helpfully uninformative, so you can make up your own words.)

Just in you were starting think all the sailing ships were modern replicas, here's the SV May Queen, a trading ketch built in 1867 and used to transport timber and stuff. "Australia's oldest sail trading vessel still afloat and on of only four wooden vessels from that era still afloat in the world."



She sat in Watermans Dock for long time, being restored. Despite the poor light, this shot gives a good overview.



At the Wooden Boat Festival (ooh, I have walked past this ship so many times and now it's open! Quick, where's a gold coin). We come in over the stern and down into the black hole.




Down in the hold. From the bow, looking along the starboard side. That light on the left is annoying.



Despite the light, it's dark down here.



With the flash on. There's a display panel on the right there.









Looking along the deck, towards the stern. The main mast is on the right. Both masts have fore & aft sails.

Just to keep things interesting

Friday was interesting, weatherwise.

The first sail was at 12.30 pm, a small school group. It was warm (having looked at the weather observations, I'll change that to hot. It got up to 30oC, unusual for late March) and there was very little wind. At first the river was smooth, no movement at all, although that changed a bit later on. As usual, we motored up under the bridge, turned around, made sail and came back down the river under sail. Some of the kids didn't think we were moving. It was hard to sure. We were moving, at 1.5 knots (2.8 kph or 1.7 mph). As a guide, the average walking speed is about 3-4 mph or 5-6 kph.


The second sail was at 6.30 pm, a group of staff from another school. By now it had come over overcast and the wind had picked up (looking at the weather obs again, it got up to 39 kph in that period, with gusts up to 63 kph). We went further up the Derwent than usual, up towards the rain. Just an occasional drop at first, then picking up until we're talking about finding the raincoats. In the meantime, the ship has been turned around and the motor turned off, and there comes the call to make sail. Just two sails though,because of the wind -- fore course and top.

Now she's moving. The water is foaming on either side of the bow. Found out the next day that we passed under the bridge, in the wind and the rain,

(file photos)

at 6.2 knots. I've heard somewhere that her maximum speed is about 6 knots.

The sun set on the way back up the river, that's where last night's photos are from. In the dark and the wind, some of the crew went aloft to furl the course "clipped on at all times", which required a lot of shouting as us down on deck had to hold the lines and let them out as required. Usually they're left to hang loose when their sail is being furled. The top sail (top gallant, which had been loosened but not used) had to wait until we were berthed. They weren't going up there in that weather.

On Saturday, the wind settled down, but it turned cold. 15.5 oC was the highest temperature recorded in the city (I'm told to expect up to 5oC colder out on the water). Speeds varied between about 1.8 & 4.4 knots. Quite normal, but so cold, even with fleecy jacket.

(And a little side note. On the second harbour sail on Saturday, there were a bunch of boys there for a pirate birthday party. I got bored at one point and took out the squirrel to take some photos. This got the usual questions from the crew near me, one of whom suggested I put him up on the spanker



which involved climbing up on the aft cabin. That got the attention of another of the crew, who decided to occupy the young boys for a few minutes by having them look for the squirrel on the ship. All to the amusement of the nearby passengers.)

A couple of photos

Just a couple of photos. Will write a bit for them tomorrow.

Trip report: Day 4, All gone

This one should be short.

I started the morning by walking up along the river, to the beach.

That's back the way I've just walked. There's the ferry, on the left, the light from the squirrel photos on the right in front of a big yellow building, the cement silos in front of Endeavour are almost in the middle. You can't quite see the black masts in the smaller photo. The city centre such as it is, is beyound and to the right of the yellow building.



It's a longer walk than I thought, but it's nice though.



This was a bit weird. I thought the seagull had happened to land near the galahs, but as the flock moved away from me, the seagull stayed with them. Wether it's a seagull with an identity problem or it was going for safety in numbers, I don't know.



That's the Bluff, with the lighthouse. The beach is into the left a bit.



There's the beach, beyond the stretch of black rock. It's quite a nice beach, if rather busy. There a surf lifesaving club based there and you're supposed to swim between the flags. At least, there used to be. Beens years since I've gone there.

Not today though. I had two hours to fill in. The plan was to walk up along the coast for almost an hour, then walk back.

Devonport, in the middle part, is laid out in a grid and I had to be back to a point that was roughly south-easterly of the beach area. So if I headed back that way through the streets, I'd back in plenty of time.

There's a street headed in the right direction, probably the only diagonal street in that part of the city.


Haven't I seen them before, like 3 days ago in Launceston?



At the end of the this street, I walked for a few more blocks and got to William St, which I'd walked up the week before so I knew it ran north-south and at which point I'd have to change direction to get to the right place. But, at this point it should have been running parallel to the street I was on, not across it. Problem. Maybe it turned at some point. I walked along it and ended up heading towards where I'd started. A bit of a worry. I back tracked to the point where I'd deviated from my course and started walking what I thought was the right way. Maybe. I'd got turned around somewhere. All around were houses, some quite new so maybe I was walking towards the edge of the city, rather than the middle. There was a hill ahead. I know there was a hill further south that I'd walked up the week before, but that was much further to the south. Most likely I was walking west. No indicators of where I was. Although I saw a bus turn the corner at one point. A bus stop might help, except there were none along this road :( It was overcast too, so it was hard to find the sun. It's over there, almost directly to my left. Hmm. It's 9.30 am, the sun should be in the east. If I'm walking south, then the sun would be on my left. Ha. If I'd stuck with my original route, I would have been right. I head left/east a bit and hit William St again, and this time it's running in the right direction. A couple of blocks further down and I'm in the area I know.

I get back to the wharf just on 10 am.

It's a morning tea to say farewell & thank you to the volunteers.



A rather nice morning tea too. Some of the Endeavour's crew in blue & the captain in white.

We talked and ate, and the some of us went back on the ship to help pack up.

Just I get to that, this is something you won't usually see. It's removed so visitors don't trip over it.



For steering, the rope runs from the barrel of the wheel



to the tiller.



All the museum stuff is packed away when they leave port, and unpacked at the next destination. At sea, the cabins are used by supernumeraries (paying passengers) so they have to be set up too. There's a few hours work in that.

It was interesting though, because when you're looking over the displays, you miss a lot of the details.



Like the metalwork on this desk. It's not something you'd consciously notice if you looked into the cabin, but it adds to the atmosphere. It's like world building for a novel. Even if the reader/viewer doesn't notice all the details, together they create the illusion that this setting is real. How can it not be?

Also, as I said quite often about the officer's cabins, every time you look at a display, you see something you missed. When you're packing one up though, you notice everything.



This woollen coat is lovely. According to the guide book, it's copied from one owned by Parkinson, one of the artists.

Once I'd done packing up Green's cabin, I went down to the midimates mess and packed the master's cabin. I do like them dominoes. What isn't fun though, folding up sheets without them dragging on the floor, when you can't stand up.

With the cabins pretty much done, I went out to the mess deck and helped clear the table. It's just Mark & me & Diana left of the volunteers now. The crew are happy to have us helping. One of the quickest pack up they've had.

For lunch we had left overs from morning tea.

The final thing to do was the hammocks.



That's Diana, who is a very lovely person by the way, folding one up. She told me what to do -- like them out, put the ropes here and then do this and that, and I wasn't really paying attention. I laid them out and let her fold them. Once the hammocks over the tables were done, we did the ones in the marines' area, in where it's low. That;s where I caught my foot on an anchor lashed to the side, startled myself and then rammed my knee down on the seam along the edge of the deck. Ouch. Although other than the initial bang, it didn't hurt much. It wasn't until I was lugging my bag back to the bus that it started to hurt. It got better though. Same knee that kept getting bashed when I was playing hockey too.

After the hammocks were done, and more goodbyes said, it was time to leave.

From this



to this



It was a wonderful 3 days. Friendly guides, friendly crew, friendly visitors. Apparently one visitor had just come back from a trip to England and he'd gone over Victory. He thought we did a better job.

Words and photos are all very well, but if you get a chance to visit HMB Endeavour replica, and they're aiming to get to as many ports in Australia as possible, go and have a look over her. And if you're able to spend a couple of days as a guide, that's definitely worthwhile :)

Trip report: Night 3

Shipkeeping involves sleeping on the ship overnight and getting up during the night for a period to make sure everything is as it should be. Sleeping in hammocks is optional, I assume, as we were asked if we wanted to.

Made up and ready for me.

We used the ones in the marines' area, because they were easier to get into. I asked how they got into the higher ones and got a demonstration. It involved grabbing a beam and pulling yourself up by the arms. !

There were three volunteers and three, I think, of the crew, which meant a 90 minute session for everyone. At eight, we were taken around and shown what had to done on our rounds.

In the engine room, check the water pressure, check the level of water in the bilge and check the temperate of the cool room and freezer.



It's a little weird, going from recreated 18th C to late 20th C by climbing down a ladder. The masts run through the engine room too, the main mast anyway. Can't remember where the mizzen went.

Go up a level and check great cabin. Up onto the deck to check the mooring lines and gangway. Across the wharf to check the rescue boat hasn't escape. Then record the wind speed & direction, and the state of the sea, well, river. Keep an eye out for anyone causing trouble.

That's done on the hour, every hour.

I was scheduled for 11.30 to 1 am. I considered staying up, that's not that far off my usual bedtime and if you wake me up in the middle of the night, I'm not all that coherent. On the other hand, I could go to bed at 9.30 and have a two hour nap, which I'm used too. And I was tired.



I got in the way I was told, because there was a beam there which made it easier to get in & move around. However that meant I was looking straight into a light, so I turned around in the hammock, and got all tangled up. Sleeping bags are good for getting tangled in on a flat bed. Bah. I did get, sort of, sorted out though. I was also told it's best to lay on your back, or you'll fall out, but you think I can sleep laying on my back? Rolling onto my side is the cue to go to sleep. I also discovered that, see that black square thing? That's a porthole, it's more noticable in the first photo. A draught comes through there. The sides of the hammock come up and cover your body, but it still blows over your ear.

I must have fallen asleep though, because it seemed only a few minutes later that Mark came to wake me up, although I was awake at the time.

In the middle of the night, this ship is dark and very quiet.



Stern windows in the great cabin.

You know there are people around you sleeping and out there somewhere is the rest of the world but it doesn't you touch you.

Especially up on deck.



The masts have lights on them, which makes the timber glow quite nicely. The moon was being dramatic too.









The 90 minutes went quite quickly, and I was soon back in my hammock. I had a large light behind which made it hard to sleep, but I did doze a bit. We were woken up at 6.30 am. Getting out of bed involved leaning to the side and there, you're up. Much easier way to start the day than that get up and out of bed thing.

Had breakfast. Took some more photos.



I'm reminded of one visitor, when I was talking about the guns being fired, who asked "but what about the cannons?" Too easy to forget that not everyone speaks the same "language".

And the visitor in the great cabin the day before, the one who put black and white film in his camera, because it seemed appropriate for the ship.



Went off to kill time until the farewell morning tea at 10 am.

That's a new day though.