Love this ‘fake’ Greens ad done on Gruen Nation!
Check it out!

The local Kiama Deputy Mayor ( and currently acting Mayor) Ben van der Wijngaart is running for the Greens in the 2010 Federal election in the seat of Gilmore and has opened up his own TV Channel.Check it out,
This is the broadcast policy channel with stuff like this

Go to the public endorsement channel if you want to upload a message

Send it to Ben’s Youtube TV Channel(bqucv7lcjmp1@m.youtube.com)
and it should go straight through, or if you are an ambitious local filmmaker contact us and maybe your wildest dreams might come true! ( not that one, the one you tell your parents about)
Here is a great Irish Green ad I found.

and a English one here

Ben’s facebook pages


I really like the Irish one, especially with Kiama having such a Irish connection, but I reckon we could probably make one as good if we tried.


These are a number of photos from the recent Jack Waugh exhibition held at the Jamberoo School of Arts, by the Jamberoo Red Cross. I have to admit the landscapes he did were so instantly local and Australian. He was mainly famous for illustrations in magazines, but he did a lot of illustrations for lot of local history publications (mostly Jamberoo) and seemed to catch that fiercely parochial but very open spirit of Jamberoo.

These are part of a sketch series of local Jamberoo life, done in a rather 19th Century Bulletin style

Of course the big star at the exhibition was the original of the ‘Santa and the Drover’ illustration

used so widely for Arnotts on its biscuit tins

and in its ads.

I wonder if Jack Waugh was related to the old dairy family of Waughs in Jamberoo ( the cricketers Steve and Mark Waugh and the equally estimable other brothers Dean Waugh,and Danny Waugh) are.
Congrats to Jamberoo Red Cross for a very professional exhibition, which seemed very well attended, and by the number of local families lending art, it seems ‘trey cool’ to have a ‘Jack Waugh’ on the wall. Most of the material os preserved by his son and the rest of the surviving family. I wouldn’t mind a Jack Waugh on my wall!
If you want to know more about Jack, this is by far the best article on him, by Greg Ray, and rather than pinch all his reaearch and change a few adjectives (as they train you at uni to do) I cannot not do more than merely step aside with a quiet smile and usher you forth to it,

This intro give a good summation,,,,
“John Edward (Jack) Waugh was a prolific commercial artist and illustrator whose work appeared in many Australian publications.

He was one of the artistic mainstays of the K.G. Murray publishing group and his illustrations were a prominent feature in such titles as Man, Man Junior, Adam and Cavalcade.

His glorious double-page paintings – like those of fellow artist Phil Belbin – adorned the pages of Man through its heyday in the late 1940s and 50s to the end of the magazine’s life in the 1970s.

Perhaps his best-known single illustration, however, was painted for the Arnotts biscuit company in 1964 and appeared on the back page of the Australian Woman’s Weekly several times over a number of years. The picture showed Santa Claus pausing for a rest by a country wayside, sharing a billy of tea (and some biscuits) with a wiry Aussie drover. The drover was Waugh himself (he often modelled for his own pictures in a mirror) and the picture was such a hit with Arnotts and the public that instead of appearing once only it was republished year after year at Christmas time. Eventually Arnotts, in recognition of Waugh’s creation of a powerful and valuable image, paid him an extra cheque and thanked him for his inspiration. In a way, the outwardly tough but inwardly sentimental drover is a fitting symbol of the independent, self-reliant and outdoorsy ex-serviceman whose strongly masculine drawing style co-existed with a passion for nature, the bush and conservation. “

Are these photos proof that Kiama is the World’s Greatest Blowhole?
Does this photo (which shows a blow at the Kiama Blowhole around 1880, much higher that the Kiama Lighthouse, (which is 36.3 metres off sea level) a world record?


Some History on them name Kiama and here
“Blowhole History

The main Kiama Blowhole was discovered by George Bass on his voyage of coastal exploration on December 6, 1797, after anchoring his whaleboat in the sheltered bay which became Kiama Harbour.

The shore Bass wrote, showed evidence of considerable volcanic fire and on the point he found: “The earth for a considerable distance round in the form approaching a circle seemed to have given way; it was now a green slope…..Towards the centre was a deep ragged hole of about 25 to 30 feet in diameter and on one side of it the sea washed in through a subterraneous passage…with a most tremendous noise…”

Bass was not, in fact, the first to discover the Kiama Blowhole, as local Aboriginals had for generations referred to it as Khanterintee.

In January 1889 a performer by the name of Charles Jackson attracted large crowds to see his crossings of the mouth of the Blowhole on a tightrope.

A smaller “little Blowhole” is located a few minutes south of the main Blowhole & performs best under moderate seas.”

The second largest blowhole, in Mexico, La Bufadora, thinks so. It claims to be the second largest blowhole in the world and names Kiama as the largest
While no official listings exist, what science articles on the subject do name Kiama as the world’s largest blowhole.

Maybe it is time for Kiama to claim the title, and use it to promote the town, but also come up with a plan for what the poor thousands of tourists who go up to see the Kiama Blowhole, should do instead, maybe a Lunchtime Blowhole Show next to the Blowhole every day?

Most other towns would be pretty much onto this, but I think Kiama tends to rests on its tourist laurels!


This concert was organised by folk legend Phyl Lobl and its relevance is that most of the songs were celebrating the local history of Kiama and the Illawarra, with songs about Daisy the Kiama cow, Mountain Dew Moonshine, The Butter Track, The Ghost Glen by Henry Kendall, and others.

Performers Phyl Lobl, Shayna Stewart, John Broomhall, Alan Morrison, Bob McInnes, John Spillane, and Stuart Leslie perform at Kiama’s inaugural Songs of the South folk concert. (Songs of the Kiama and Illawarra Local History)

Well-known singer Margaret Roadknight put in an unexpected cameo
More photos in the gallery here.

Kiama, Australia News

There has been a Kiama High and Kiama High School Captains since 1954. Is anyone has any infomation about any of the people on this board let me know in the comment section below.

I will be posting some biographical details on some of the Kiama High School Captains, and those who went onto make their mark in society

Here is a website for Kiama high on Wiki(The Kiama High school site has beend own for some time)

Some details from that site
Kiama High School

Kiama High School logo
Ad Altiora (To higher things)
Kiama, NSW
Coordinates 34°40′53″S 150°50′46″E / 34.68139°S 150.84611°E / -34.68139; 150.84611Coordinates: 34°40′53″S 150°50′46″E / 34.68139°S 150.84611°E / -34.68139; 150.84611
Type Coeducational comprehensive state school
Established 1960
Principal Graham Sutherland
Grades 7-12
Enrolment Approx. 1300 students
Colour(s) Blue, White and Gold

Noteworthy alumni
Jack Alexander, Australian and NSW Rugby League representative.
Matt Brown, NSW Labor Member for Kiama.
Kim Dalton (27 April 1981 – 1 November 2005), Kiama’s first international Taekwondo representative, multiple NSW, Victorian and Australian champion, fifth dan blackbelt and Illawarra’s highest ranked female blackbelt. Author of The Real Fight and KHS school captain. Winner of Kiama Junior Sports Award, inductee in the inaugural Kiama Sporting Hall of Fame 2008. Life saver Kiama SLSC.
Sally Fitzgibbons, the current U18’s Girls Junior World Surfing Champion.
Donna Kosta, a national Taekwondo champion.
Robbie Maddison, world record for the longest motorcycle ramp jump at 322 feet 7-1/2.
Former students Josh Morris and Brett Morris are rugby league players for the St George Illawarra Dragons.
Luke Muttdon, a national u18s rugby league representative.
Todd Prestage, former WCT surfer.
Former student Ashton Sims is a rugby league player for the Brisbane Broncos.
Rod Wishart, Australian and NSW Rugby League representative.

Kiama Harbour was dug out over 17 years,
and opened in 1876.

Most of the rock was moved to formed a causeway, looking toward where the future Post Office will be.

which was built only two years later in 1878

with the belltower added later by Anton Ettinghausen (great grand father of Andrew Ettinghausen the footballer and TV personality), who built the Pilot’s Cottage, finished in 1881.

The Pilot's Cottage was finished in 1881 to service Kiama harbour.
It was designed to be a small port, with a tight fit to get in, but deep enough for large ships, such as this!

P07336The History of Kiama Harbour in many ways the living history of the steamships that came through.
That story is the Illawarra Steamship Navigation Company.
Here is a link to some ship models held up at the Powerhouse Museum (they also have listed a dinner plate marked ISNC but I can;t find it at the moment).
Kiama was one of the stops along the shipping line of the Illawarra Steamship Navigation Company.

In 1910 Henry Lawson wrote a languid article about travelling on one of their ships. Here is the article. It catches the EXPERIENCE of steam travel far more than any history I have read.
I will be publishing a number of other parts of the story of Kiama Harbour soon.

BERMAGUI – IN A STRANGE SUNSET {published in The Bulletin, 1910}
by Henry Lawson

“BERMAGUI: Where The Mystery was – and where mystery is. Sunset, and a sad, old mysterious bright gold fan-like to dull copper one. Red flag with broad white cross; gloomy and half fearful, half threatening in sunset glare.

Sort of jumbled curve of bay – sand, rotten rock and beach scrub and tussock. As if it were meant to be a clean curve with white sand. But juttings-out of rotting earth and sand and bastard rock that were not “points” nor anything else were left – mixed up with scraggy bush and scrub and coarse tufts that Nature forgot, or hadn’t time to shove away and tidy up. Scene started in a hurry, left half fin-

{p. 305} ished, and – forgotten. Blue hill – or bastard mountain – to the west, running down to pygmy peak at the end of it: Mount Dromedary – and looks like it. Tired, sulky, obstinate old Dromedary in the dusk, shutting out daylight. Point same rotten clay or rock topped with a fringe of bastard, scraggy, half-dead trees. Stacks of sleepers, sleepers, sleepers and sawn timber alGng darkening clay road. Jumble of sand, and mongrel scrub, and tussock, and Beach Hotel. Sort of regular jumble of weatherboard shanties. All secm to facc sunset with guilty, guilty, glazcd and glaring eyes turned towards where, far out at the end of the Mountain, Lamont Young’s party were lost – or not lost – nearly thirty years ago. One house, back half behind clump of decent trees to the left, with only one guilty, glassy, brassy eye visible from deck. Showing well above jumble of houses on hill at the back, one small, oblong, weatherboard, bare, verandahless “cottage” with two eyes more glassy, more glaring, more blaring, and guiltier than all the rest, against sunset.

Darkness falls. Flares glaring on wharf and deck. Long sawn timber swung aboard and below with amazing clumsiness and carelessness. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Snatching hatfuls of cargo from every little port. Too lightly laden. Chancing it and running across from Maoriland in perhaps the most dangerous seas in the world, in little more than ballast. I knouJ it and have known it for many years. Way back in Dann’s time – Clark Russel speaks of it. Rotten ships started off round the world – too deeply laden. Down here, in Lawson’s time, coffin ships from Newcastle to Sydney have dropped into a trough and through the bottom like a kettle filled with bullets. And men drowned like rats in same kettle with lid cramped on. Now it’s all haste, razor-edged competition, and greed. I’ve been round the Cape, from Durban to Sydney, where the Waratah was lost, and know something about something.

I’d rather be in one of our little Mallacoota or Cunningham cutters with a comfortable belly full of cargo, off Gabo, in a sea, than in some of our long, high, narrow, top-heavy, too-lightly-laden, speed-greedy liners, in the long, greasy, devilish beam roll. The little cutter sits upright, anyway, and climbs like a cat. Think of the liner turned turtle ! Hundreds, men, women, children, lads and lasses, trapped, helpless – the most horrible death you could imagine at sea. When she swamps, there’s light, at least, to the last, and a chance for it.

But we’re sketching Bermagui. Sawn timber. Chaff goes ashore. (Points and trees dark and dreary). More cheese comes on board. Cheese, butter, eggs, sawn timber, calves, pigs, and sleepers, and in the season, wool! We can’t get away from wool.

Pigs and calves slung aboard anyhow here, without the benefit of the bosses.

Someone, catching me furtively taking notes, asks:

“Taking an inventory of the live stock?”

“Yes,” I say.

So I was – both in the cattle hold and the saloon. But that later. But let’s get out of this.

Light on Montague Island like star in the East. Moonlight.

Passed Ulladulla in my sleep, but it sounds like cheese, butter, eggs, calves, pigs, pumpkins, and, in the season, wool.

Same as Cunnamulla in Queensland always suggests mashed pumpkin or pumpkin pies to me.

Hatches left off, with chain round, to give air to stock. Roaring of young bulls, blurring of calves, grunting and squealing of pigs in cattle hold – and ditto in saloon smoking-room, for they’re drinking a bit. If we only had a donkey, and

{p. 306} a sheep or two, and a goat, we’d be complete for’ard. Sailor says there’s queer cattle in the saloon sometimes.

Roused by strange noise just as I was dising off. Thought it was comic steward doing a bit of ventriloquism, or imitating animals, or the chief, for the edification of his mates – they all doss here – just as we were going to sleep. It was the fore cabin steward with the jim-jams in his sleep. Most uncanny sounds I ever heard.

About the saloon – there’s a thing that will be altered when this strikes the proper person. On one line in the fore~cabin it is written everywhere in brass and paint and worked on the mats- “Second Class Ladies”, “Second Class Gents”; on the other “Males”, “Females”. Stony fact. Goes a bit further than “Men” and “Women”, doesn’t it?

Morning bright and glorious. Off Port Hacking. Rockdale over beyond, chimney visible. Shelving cliffs: cutter between the heads – sails dark-brown, clay-coloured, light brown with touch of yellow, yellowish grev, and grey, and tawny, and almost black as they turn to the sunlight or away: small boats fishing outside. Strong morning breeze. The heads at nine o’clock.

And so Australia. No meadows and fields showing fair down to the sea, nor aught, as in other lands, to hint of the grcat wealth of love and riches within her. Shelving rock coast, capped with hopeless and forbidding, dry coastal scrub – you’d never dream of what was behind and within. Australia, my Australia; and I hold her mine as no man ever did, or ever shall. ”
Check out the ‘Swedish Captain Mystery’ on this page