by Gifford Eardley
Seeing that a visit has been arranged to Parramatta Park on Sunday, June 19th, 1966, to permit the members and friends of the St. George Historical Society to enjoy, amongst other delights, a ride on the last remaining Sydney steam tram motor and its two carriages, it is thought fitting to append the following short screed. This has been written to give an inkling of the historical background of the engine concerned and the difficulties experienced in its reconstruction for operational purposes.
As the Steam Tram Preservation Society has a number of heavy financial commitments a charge of 10 cents is made for each adult riding in the carriages, children travel at half price. For those, like myself, who seek the privilege of a ride on the engine, if such accommodation can be arranged, there is a charge of 15 cents.
A child’s love for a steam locomotive passeth all understanding, and it is surprising how this initial interest survives throughout so many men’s later life. The interest may be latent, but it often comes to the fore when the stimulating sight of a mighty engine comes into vision. Locomotive designs belong to all sorts and conditions of types, each with its particular charm. Some steam engines are downright ugly, whilst others possess an elegance and grace which cause some of us to come completely under their spell, they all have a distinct character of their own. I quote – “Where there is steam and smoke, a smell of warm oil, and the sound of a sharp exhaust, there is life”. Can this be said of any other form of machine?
The admirers of the steam locomotive are legion and include intelligent men from all walks of life, including certain kings, governors, judges, personalities like Walt Disney and the late Henry Ford, members of the legal and medical professions, to say nothing of clergymen, to whom the subject appears to exert a peculiar fascination. Reverting to George Stephenson and his famous “Rocket” we read that on one occasion the famous and beauteous actress Fanny Kemble had the honour of a ride along with George. She was enthralled and later remarked “It was a snorting little animal which I felt inclined to pat”. And patted they have been accordingly by generations of men and the sons of men.
The particular engine in question, tram motor No. 103A, was imported in 1891 from the Baldwin Locomotive Company of Philadelphia, USA, to assist with the operation of the Sydney street tramway system. With the electrification of these lines this steam motor, amongst others of its ilk, was relegated to the various suburban services, and spent much time working the Arncliffe-Bexley, Kogarah-Sans Souci, and the Sutherland-Cronulla steam tramway systems. With the closure of the Kogarah-Sans Souci line in 1937 motor No. 103A was stored at Randwick Workshops for a period before being sold to Sydney Ferries Limited for use on their Parramatta-Redbank Wharf tramway. During April 1943 the motor was sold to the Colonial Sugar Company for shunting duties at their “Canite” factory at Rhodes, where, so it is understood, it disgraced itself by running off the end of the company’s jetty into the murky waters of Homebush Bay. After being recovered from the briny in a somewhat dilapidated condition it saw little if any further service at Rhodes, and, in 1950, went to the Commonwealth Engineering Company at Clyde on a spare parts basis. Here again its services and components met with little demand.
A friend of the writer, Bruce McDonald, happened to be nosing around the Clyde works yard and came upon the now discarded relic and was most surprised when the company officials, seeing his interest in the old time engine, gave it to him on condition that he arranged for its removal. A whip-around amongst certain of his friends assisted to cover transport costs, consequently the good and observant wives of Homebush had the shock of their lives to see this seemingly huge monster being taken through the tree-fringed streets of their select suburb. Arriving at the McDonald home it was unloaded in the front garden and left to its fate. Well-known business firms kindly loaned lifting tackle and the motor was inched, little by little, between the brick walls of two residences, with only inches to spare. The dividing fence between the properties was taken down preparatory to the movement.
After much exertion, coupled with many anxious moments, motor No. 103A was jockeyed around to a temporary resting place slightly clear of Mrs. McDonald’s clothesline, much to that long suffering lady’s gratification. Work began in earnest on the reconditioning of the engine, as in the course of its journeying, to say nothing of its immersion in Homebush Bay, the body work on the cab, in particular, was in sad need of renewal. Many of the other components, essential to its well-being were missing and proved most difficult to replace.
One of the leading shop-fitting concerns of Sydney took over the reconstruction of the cab, more or less as a matter of interest in the project. The ash-pan was missing from beneath the fire-box and inquiries made to replace this adjunct elicited the fact that a couple of long discarded ash-pans had been thrown into the Parramatta River at Redbank by the employees of the Sydney Ferries Ltd. Dredging operations, of the rope and hook variety, resulted in a suitable ash-pan being retrieved. Then came fire-bars which proved a problem to replace. Spares of any kind were not available, neither was the ready cash to have new ones cast at an iron-foundry. The haunts of other and long scrapped steam motors were thoroughly searched and finally it was learned that a lot of bits and pieces had been thrown into a hole at Bombo, near Kiama. A search party delved into this blackberry-covered excavation and at last were successful in bringing to light several of the sadly needed fire-bars. The front apron plate was numbered amongst the missing features, and Mr. Edwards, a machinery merchant of Sydenham, generously donated one that had been lying on his scrap metal dump. This plate had belonged to motor No. 5A but unfortunately a souvenir hunter had cut out a large jagged-edged portion of the sheet steel away in order to have the road number 5A added to his “scalp” list. Luckily the culprit was traced and the missing piece welded back into its parent metal. And so the work of restoration went on. A clergyman friend of the organisation, known to his plebeian associates as the “Bishop of Tasmania”, although he has not as yet aspired to episcopal rank, assisted in applying the priming coat of red-lead paint, standing well back from the brush to avoid drips and uttering blessings as sundry paint splashes anointed his clothing.
Eventually No. 103A was restored to its pristine beauty and personal comforts, thereby gaining the heartfelt thanks of Mrs. McDonald. The engine was again led carefully through the narrow space between the walls of the two houses, outward bound for Parramatta Park and ready once again to take the tracks as of yore. The steam motor has now been ceded to the New South Wales Steam Tram and Railway Preservation Society. The members of this group, working on a voluntary basis, have been responsible for the tramway system laid in Parramatta Park (Ed: museum relocated to Valley Heights in the Blue Mountains after fire destroyed the Parramatta Park site in 1993). They are to be commended in making such a wonderful contribution to the transport history of this State in preserving a living and steaming replica of what was regarded as perhaps the largest steam tramway system in the world.
Our St. George Historical Society is indebted to Frank Moag of Sans Souci, the President of the Preservation Society, for the privilege of inspecting and once again riding behind No. 103A, a fascinating locomotive which once played an important part in the transport needs of the residents of St. George.
This article was first published in the June 1966 edition of our magazine.
Browse the magazine archive.
Unless noted, images courtesy of the Bayside Library Service Local History Collection.