FAMILY FINDS ISLAND LIFE ATTRACTIVE

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31134, 10 August 1966, Page 2

FAMILY FINDS ISLAND LIFE ATTRACTIVE

(By

FRANCES BARBER

Ships’ passengers, leaning over the rail as they pass a tiny Australian island, expect to see old bones, iron chains and perhaps a ghost or two drifting along the stone wall which keeps out the sea—but all they see is a woman quietly gardening.

She is auburn-haired, plump and jolly, the life and soul of ’ the island, which she shares with her husband and two children, t They are the only inhabitants and very proud of their home. f

It is an island of ; green lawns, fig trees and palm trees. And it { has all “mod. cons.” with a telephone, gas cooker, refrigerator, freezer unit and stainless steel sink. It is an island boasting! relics of early Australia, with! century-old cannons facing ! the mainland and a tower; with walls 12ft thick, built to I protect supplies of stored | gunpowder in convict days, i The island is not publi-l cised as a tourist spot It is Fort Denison, and the woman. I Mrs June Morris, is the wife! of the island’s caretaker. Mr; Clifford Morris, ruddy-faced • with steel grey hair and the! healthy look of a sea dog. has an important job there, | For more than 100 years the fort has stood in Sydney harbour, two miles off the city, and by motor-launch only five minutes away from Circular quay. The island itself existed long before white men first stepped on Australian soil. LATER RENAMED Once called Pinchgut—be-! cause of its early associations; as a “punishment island” for convicts found guilty of steal-! ing food from other convicts | —the island was later re-1 named after Sir William Denison. a nineteenth century' Governor of New South; ■Wales. The fort was built to give Sydney extra protection against enemy ships, but was!

'never used for the purpose. I The old cannons still ; standing today are used for igun salutes to visiting 'V.I.P.S. Before Mr Morris and his {family took over Fort DeniIson four years ago they lived ! in a south Sydney suburb. ! Drummoyne. There were ; neighbours next door and i children to play with the Morris children, Julie, aged 12, I and Joann, aged 10. I “Suburban life was very I pleasant and I had doubts ; about leaving it to come to i this funny little island,” Mrs !Morris said. “But now I ; wouldn’t want to live anyi where but here. In the subI urbs I was just another ordin|ary housewife—l’m just the {same here, of course, but I ifeel more important.” RECORDS TIDES ; Tourists who do find their way to the island, aboard a Maritime Services Board launch, are shown around by Mr Morris. Before each tour he tells them: no smoking and no eating confectioned’. His main job is to record vital maritime information, 'including the action of tides > in the harbour, and not to {sweep up cigarette ends and {toffee papers. While the tours are in pro- ; gress, Mrs Morris and the two {girls keep out of the way be|hind a door labelled “Strictly i Private.” This is the entrance I to the family’s living quarI tens, in one section of the fort. There is a large kitchen, {with modern equipment I gleaming in front of the old

t I stone walls, a lounge the same < 1 size (26ft by 15ft) and two rl bedrooms. ;i Vital for the caretaker’s , j wife is the big store cupboard 1 5 in the kichen. “I keep a big { - stock of food and household : 1 supplies because I can’t run 1 . around to the corner shop ? J every time I want something,” ! 1 she said. * Once a month, Mrs Morris ; , buys food in bulk from a Syd- r ney co-operative. Monday is s ' her once-weekly shopping day, ! 5 when she calls the launch to 1 ’ take her to the “mainland” 1 5 to buy meat and eggs. Every , I school day. Julie and Joann J • bring home a loaf of bread : - and the evening papers. ; LAUNCH TO SCHOOL t II Going to school by motor 5 Ilaunch is the most natural 1 thing in the world to the f girls. In the afternoon the 1 t launch brings them home c I again—often with extra pas- a , sengers, some of their school a , friends. ’ “Our pals love coming out c . to the island,” Julie said. She t I was busy at her mother’s sew- * ing machine, making clothes 11 ■ for one of Joann’s dolls. 12 , “We show them around the s I fort and they sit on the old § cannons. Then we take them . swimming in our little pool t i down by the water and show ® . them where we go fishing.” t Island life never makes the f ■ family feel cut off from Syd- r . ney. Their telephone is al- a ■ ways busy, the launch col- c , lects them whenever they . need it, and they hear the ! constant chugging of ferries

and other craft passing their front door. They find the harbour traffic noise mellow and friendly, easier to live with than the screeching of brakes and grating of gears. FEW TOURISTS Although there are only a few tourists, some are exasperating.” One middle-aged Melbourne woman was nearly in tears because there were no ancient convict bones or instruments of torture on Fort Denison. She accused the caretaker of telling lies about the history of the island. An elderly widow from overseas pleaded, unsuccessfully, to be allowed to spend a night on the island—so she could tell her friends at home. She offered to pay Mrs Morris five guineas, later increasing it to seven guineas, for the honour of a night’s sleep there. The lady was politely and firmly removed to the motor launch. Household chores, gardening and general preservation of the fort has to be a family affair, with the girls helping after school. Sundays and Mondays are days off for the caretaker, but in the summer they are usually spent on the island, swimming and sunbathing. There is a family car, but it is no use on Fort Denison and is kept in a Sydney garage. “Some people would hate this life but we love it,” said Mrs Morris. “We have no transport problems, no interfering neighbours and we feel really independent. And we are near enough to the big city to feel part of it.”