Thats Lawrence With a Double U, not Laurence With a U.

Yesterday we took a trip 30kms downriver from Grafton to the little village of Lawrence. The name of this town is not relevant to our family, despite our plethora of Laurences. Those Laurences are all from the Travers side of the family who were busy establishing themselves in Hobart at about the time the Ogilvies & Tindals were eyeing off the Clarence valley. Our Laurence is spelt with a u.

This Lawrence, originally called The Elbow, was named Lawrence in honour of a hero of the 1857 Indian Mutiny and earns its part in this story because of Edward Ogilvies attempts to make it the major centre on the Clarence, rather than Grafton. Apparently Edward didn't see eye to eye with the other patriachs of Grafton. Not sure why. Maybe he didn't like the idea of sharing his authority with others or perhaps he was just obstreperous. Whatever the reason, on his return from his trip to England he did his best to raise Lawrence's significance.

This watercolour is in an album by Edward Forde, held in the Mitchell Library. It shows the veranda of the Commercial Hotel in Lawrence in 1860, which was owned by Edward from about that time until it was delicensed in 1894. It burnt down many years ago according to the nice lady at the Lawrence Museum.

He bought land and property here and established a wharf from where he imported his supplies and exported produce from Yulgilbar, much to the chagrin of the Grafton merchants. He was backing the wrong horse, however, because Lawrence never really took off and once the railway went through Grafton in the late 1880s, that was it for Lawrence. 

All that remains of Edward's dreams for Lawrence. A park near where his wharf once stood.

Today it is a bucolic little hamlet with virtually no buildings of historic significance. Over the years flood or fire has claimed most of its older buildings, the Lawrence Hotel burning down as recently as 1987 (to be replaced by a modern tavern). To my eye the oldest building in town is probably the Police Station/House which I would guess to be c.1870s. There are a few others from the 1890s but mostly it is a tree change kind of place with modern houses on large blocks. On that basis it can give you a sense of what Grafton might have been in Edwards time, with houses scattered along the river on large blocks with vegetable gardens, fruit trees and the occasional horse or goat grazing in the yard. It also has a nice folk museum in a disused ABC radio station.

Lawrence Post Office with the Police Station in the background. The Commercial Hotel was up on the rise just past the Police Station.

From Lawrence we took a car ferry across the river down to McLean which is a town that has retained many of its historic pubs, shops and administrative buildings and has a nice feel to it. McLean is also the southernmost limit of sugar cane growing in Australia and it has a subtropical air with cane fields and macademia groves. From there we went down another 20kms to the mouth of the Clarence at Yamba.

Yamba is a sprawling beachside town that appears to have grown considerably in the last 40 or so years. Its like a lot of beachy places (think Mandurah) where the developers arrived before the planners. There are multi-storey apartment buildings, palatial beachside houses, the occasional old beach cottage, strips of takeaway food, surf shops, beach gift shops etc and then all the other joys of modern commercial life like Maccas, Target, Woolies etc. You know the drill. Perhaps Yamba is the aboriginal word for crass.

The mouth of the Clarence at Yamba. Two big stone breakwaters keep it open today.

The weather has been outstanding (sunny and low 20s) so today we packed a picnic and did a big bike ride up to the Rogan Bridge, the first bridge upstream from Grafton and a round trip of 52kms; a one day PB (personal best for those unsporty amongst you) for Trish. For me it was a good trial to see what the country is like for riding, as I intend doing the bits Edward rode horseback, by bike. While it is a bit up and down, the hills are not too steep so it should be a doddle.

Finally, when we got home we figured we should partake of some Ozzie culture not available to us in the West (praise the Lord); the pokie supported club (for a pokie supported cheap dinner). The nearest, & Grafton's flashest (reminded me of a mini Vegas casino) was the GDSC which I incorrectly guessed stood for Grafton District Sports Club. Wrong.  It's Grafton District Services  Club or in other words the RSL. We arrived a few minutes before 6pm and just afterwards a lady announced on the PA "Ladies & Gentlemen, its 6 o'clock". How thoughtful, I thought. As a contribution to responsible gambling they're letting all the addicts know that maybe they should go home for tea, or at least take a break.

But no. The PA lady went on to tell us all that it was time to stand, all face the west, and take a minutes silence while she recited the "Lest we Forget" verse and the whole place solemnly did! Do they do this every day in every  RSL? I never knew. Well at least that means they can't take the piss when Moslems do their daily prayers to Mecca.