Circa 1803

200 years ago, Mathew Flinders spied the safety of Port Phillip Bay, although unaware to him, there were eyes that spied closely on him. Eyes from 2 distinct peoples who already occupied the bay area for the while and, perhaps, without too much conflict. The first were dark skinned, to whom this place St Kilda, was originally home.

Originally home to the Aboriginal [ abo'riginal - abode n. one's home; original. from the beginning] KOORIE or KULIN nation., specifically the BUNURONG-NGARUM clan, whom as per common local aboriginal lore, so I am told, the park's current inhabitants (who we now reverently refer to as 'The Parkies') would not discontinue to gather here, since the beginning of the 'dream time' itself, to meet in this special place, a place that even now lends itself to the merry congregation of so many, so fittingly. Nor did the persistence of the 'whites' relentless convergence meet with resistance the chosen purpose of this place.

As adage, with much merit, the local aboriginal 'Parkies' have offered us their blessing to use the land, and to continue their traditional use of this land for purposes of congregation; to use the place openly and peaceably and for expression (explained with much vigor over a six-pack of tinnies) as a meeting place for all nations.

The second people of the bay area however, who were also watching Flinders maneuver through the bay, were a bit more concerned than the first, and would have watched on with much disdain and even fear. This second group of inhabitants were white. Living in tiny, modest communities from Portland to Gippsland, some were hidden & others perched high on cliff tops, vantage points from where they might spot a whale or an HMAS enemy ship. These coastal villages harboured runaway convicts from Sydney, who had run south as far as they could till they hit the coast & could go no further. They were gathering in numbers right across the South coast, joined by Sailors who'd absconded from the growing number of commercial whaling & sealing ships around the Bass Straight.

Sailors had left the safety of their ships to have a shot on their own. Whales were an easy enough target when they were already dead & being hauled by another, slower ship. Absconded sailors soon mustered the help of the desperate escapee convicts in the area, who, without too much convincing, would be recruited to form the bands of pirates, to attack, kill and pillage other commercial ships. Considering that one whale could earn, even on the black market, the equivalent of today's two million dollars, a nice amount to share around and enough even to get you back to England, even as a convict, safely & rich.

There is much evidence of Pirating along the coast, but for political reasons not much of that news was likely to be extended back to England. It was known that 100's of convicts who'd escaped Sydney's low security prisons had fled south & were gathering along beaches and rivers of southern NSW, looking for other convict settlements. Most likely, these runaways were the first white settlers of St Kilda.

Circa 1839, post white settlement in Port Phillip

Amongst tall, shady gums and a salt creek meandering from the sea to where we now stand, was built a boat shed, servicing and maintaining the small sea craft around the bay, essential in this sea-faring era, this vibrant foreshore-based settlement soon became known as St Kilda Boat Shed. This humble structure in form, still looms above you, no architectural diamond but big in personality.

Folklore has it that the early sailors, who'd patronised the boat shed, emphatically declared that this most auspicious vantage, with its shallow creek relief would remain reserved for a perfect purpose -- drinking. This was probably the genesis of the strong drinking culture that remains in St Kilda today.

Circa 1848 - 50

To the woe of its traditional patrons, gentrification of the thriving St Kilda district soon affected the casual sphere around the unsophisticated boat shed. The new settlers and property developers of the district offended the sheds traditional patrons, of local boat builders, sailors, diggers & fishermen, when it was announced that the shed would be converted into a Tea House. The locals resisted this idginity desperately, honoring their predecessors vow that this wall-less shed should be used for no other purpose... Under immense bureaucratic pressure, tea was ordered to be stocked, the staunch clientele resisted consumption of this unfamiliar substance. And political pressure mounted. The regulars were outraged; to be forced to drink tea in their own institution was considered a grave assault on the growing abuse of the rights of the common peoples in early Victoria.

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Soon, with increasing popularity of the precinct, Crown Land sales, which were quite prolific, were now causing new roads to be built, such as from Alma Rd and Wellington St to Chapel St and High St, in 1853. The value of Crown Land in the area soared, and the political push towards gentrification followed. Not unlike what is happening here today.

Historic references inferred that a gentlemanly-like local who bought into the new estate on the Upper Esplanade, impressed by the mob of undesirables, dogs, and sordid people alike that congregated at the end of the road -- the dead-end Esplanade, running into the swamp area next to where we now stand -- wrote, "A bawdy resonance would emanate from this site well into the early hours; where sordid folk would get up to all sorts of shenanigans."

Increasing sales & vallues of Crown Land now impinged on their 40-year tradition & their rights. This fueled a relentless rage. They refused to drink the tea, instead would drink their rum from tea mugs, as though to fool the watchers-on. Resistant to the end, the bureaucrats inside pulled a fast one. Police were ordered to go in, to arrest and shut down the boat shed. At that time, in other parts of the land, police were acting strenuously, endeavouring to put down the practice of sly grog selling. So it was under this pretext that it was said, that in consequence of complaints made, police would be sent in to make enquiries.

"It was hop beer which I made for my own personal use!" exclaimed one resistant aficionado. That day, under the Licensing Act, the operator was threatened with the charges of 'illegal possession of a still to sedition and resisting arrest'. Conviction could be proved that pernicious traffic was being carried out in the shed and that any bench of the day would inflict a substantial penalty or imprisonment, alternately immediate vacation of the boat shed was sought.

Misunderstood and weakened by the fight, the operator did cease all further sales of alcohol. And on that day, the shed's entire & unique past was lost, and all just to rid the area of a number of so-called undesirables. Undesirable were they to themselves, or to the property developers, who were now swarming over the estates in the district.

It is said that a number of the vanquished patrons moved on to join friends in Ballarat who were also torn between the paradoxes of law & justice. Here again, the rights of the ordinary citizen were being frustrated. Some of the Boat Shed freedom fighters were said to have gone on to be influential in the Eureka Stockade of 1854. The Eureka Stockade rebellion, Australia's only rebellion, was to become a most defining moment in the history of democracy. Although the diggers at Eureka were defeated in the battle, their stand led to political reforms which, it is argued, were the basis for the introduction of representative government in Australia and the cradle of Australian democracy. "Go Resistance".

With its resistant core broken, most dead or arrested at the stockade, St Kilda was proclaimed a Municipal District in February 1857l

The boat shed's veiled, sly drinking tradition came to a complete end in 1890, under the 182nd section of the Licensing Act, 1890. It was temporarily shut down. The licensing laws of the new Act gave greater powers & were forcibly acted on.

The walls of the boat shed were filled in by local handypersons at the price of a few dozen pints of rum. With its sanitised name, "Continental Tea House", a plan was embarked on by Cr. O'Donnell & landscape architect Catani, in commemoration of this infamous land mark: a reserve would be built, to be named O'Donnell Gardens. Now set amongst gardens with an alfresco aspect, it soon became a welcoming respite for romantic couples who were drawn to the area, and the ex-patrons were appalled.

Circa 1912, Luna Park, St Kilda

Contrary to popular belief, Luna Park Triangle and the Luna Park entertainment attraction were not designed with children in mind. St Kilda was a notorious port town, big on adult themes.

The Palais De Dance and the Sea Baths were a haven for wandering bachelors. It was actually young couples who popularised Luna Park with its exciting ghost train and scenic railway, not to mention the 'Tunnel of LOVE', all designed to assist the young buck with a prescription that would facilitate an encouraging encounter toward a frightened, female interest.

Circa 1925

Unsuccessful, the Tea House changed hands and became a Fish'n'Chip café a popular family destination by day and notorious haunt of St Kilda's "Ladies of the Night" by dark. It reverted back, in true St Kilda style...