It was one of the most anticipated moments in our territory's history. Well, at least for purveyors of buried treasure.
At 10am on February 19, 1973, a group of dignitaries, surveyors, and bureaucrats from the Department of the Capital Territory and the media gathered on the north-eastern side of Mt Stromlo.
Despite the bush setting, most were clad in business shirts and ties - partly a sign of the times and partly a nod to the significance of the event.
Some had cameras. One had a shovel. Another a hammer and chisel.
Under the watchful eye of the big crowd, survey assistant (chainman) Ray Johnston (Johnno) was about to dig up a time capsule.
But this wasn't one of your run-of-the-mill capsules like the one you probably buried in primary school (I'm still kicking myself for donating my Donkey Kong console to my Year 6 capsule. Even though it was broken, I'd love to still have it.)
No, this capsule, buried as a war-time security measure in 1942, contained documents of city-wide significance.
With the threat of Japanese bombing raids, crucial photo-reduced documents about Canberra's land leases were rolled up in a tin can and buried exactly five chains from the Mt Stromlo Trigonometric (Trig) Station towards Black Mountain Trig.
In the event other copies were destroyed during enemy air attack, post-war, the buried cache of documents, a blueprint of our city, would have allowed the re-establishment of Canberra's all-important land leases.
Fortunately, Canberra was never bombed so the need to exhume the key documents did not arise.
However, when the idea of studying the method of preserving the documents arose three decades later, it was decided to unearth the long-buried capsule.
Ironically, and completely coincidentally, the date chosen for the recovery of the capsule was February 19, 1973, the anniversary of the bombing of Darwin in 1942.
One of those present was Julius Knight, who, at the time, was the only living person associated with its burial.
Also in the crowd was regular contributor to this column, Russell Wenholz, who back in 1973 was a wide-eyed, fresh-faced surveyor with the Department of the Interior Survey Section.
Russell recently led me to the site where the capsule had been buried and recalled the recovery of the capsule blow by blow, as if it happened yesterday.
"With all the dignitaries assembled, I had to set up the theodolite quickly as Johnno headed off with the pogo stick and prism before I had even set the bearing," recalls Russell.
"As the party headed down the slope - leather-soled shoes slipping on pine needles - I distinctly remember Kep Enderby, the federal government minister for the capital territory, saying "follow that big bloke (Johnno), he seems to know what he's doing."
It turns out there was a very good reason Johnno knew where to go.
The day before, under instruction from their boss, Russell and Johnno were despatched on a covert operation to locate the capsule to eliminate any chance of the capsule not being found the next day in front of the official party.
"When Julius Knight buried the capsule, the pines must have been such that he could see Black Mountain trig. I couldn't, so I sighted to a trig I could see - not sure which one - set a bearing and then turned off the bearing to Black Mountain trig," recalls Russell.
After finding what they believed was the correct location, the duo started to dig.
"We dug down enough to see the top of the capsule, with a shovel and crow bar, it wasn't hard digging," says Russell, "we just wanted to see it was there."
Once the diligent surveyors located it, they covered it back over and sprinkled a few pine needles over it and scurried back to their office.
However, it turns out that Russell and Johnno should perhaps have had sneak peek inside the tin, which was encased in concrete, for when, the next day, the moment came to prise open the capsule in front of the cameras, there was mass disappointment.
"They opened it with hammer and chisel, the concrete casing wasn't thick, [and] the tin fell apart, it was rotten," recalls Russell.
Unfortunately, water had made its way into the tin and the documents were soggy and unreadable.
"At least it could be determined that the method of preservation wasn't appropriate," muses Russell.
Russell was later involved with another Canberra time capsule. "Not digging one up this time, rather I coordinated the position for burying the time capsule at Uriarra School," he explains.
"However, the school closed in 2007 and I don't know what happened to the time capsule," he says.
The same goes for the water-logged contents of the war time capsule. While the good folk at the ANU Archives were recently able to find photos of it exhumation, the current location of its contents is a mystery.
SIMULACRA CORNER
While recently geocaching in bush near Pierces Creek Forest, Jeremy Hagan was stopped in his tracks by this "freaky tree stump". I'm just glad Jeremy encountered it in broad daylight, for with mouth agape and arms flung to the heavens, that horned beast would be a frightening sight at sunset. Or even scarier under moonlight.
More buried treasure
A tin can with soggy blueprints for our territory isn't our fair city's only buried treasure.
Subterranean Sculpture: Beneath Commonwealth Park is one of Canberra's strangest situated sculptures - six large aluminium tetrahedrons which in March 1975 were buried in a trench measuring 5 metres deep by 4 metres wide and 20 metres long. Sure, you can't eyeball the tetrahedrons unless you have access to state-of-the-art ground penetrating radar, but that shouldn't stop you attaining a deep appreciation of them. At the time of their burial, their creator, pre-eminent sculptor Bert Flugelman (1923 - 1913) encouraged detractors to imagine "what was under their feet and dwell upon the artistic merit of how the artwork was interred".
Tennent's Treasure: Some bushranger buffs claim that squirreled away in a cave on the slopes of Mt Tennent is the buried booty of bushranger John Tennant who supposedly hid on the mountain before his capture in 1828. One of Tennant's biggest heists was on November 21, 1827 when he cleaned out overseer James Ainslie's cottage at Duntroon of basic provisions including "one plain handkerchief, three red shirts, 150lbs of flour, trousers, 1 pair of half boots ... four holey dollars, three Spanish dollars and two rupees." Those holey dollars would be worth a fortune today.
Braidwood's Bounty: To avoid the prying eyes of creditors, prior to his death in 1843, and facing bankruptcy, Thomas Braidwood Wilson (yes, after whom the town is named) apparently hid a bag full of family jewellery in a hollow log in nearby bush. Storyteller John Gale reported in Canberra: Its History and Legends (1927) that some 30 years later an old man walking the nearby Jinden Mountains stumbled upon a leather bag laden with jewellery and trinkets partially concealed in a log. Was it Braidwood's stash? We may never know.
WHERE IN CANBERRA?
Rating: Hard
Clue: In the sunrise shadow of a well-known Canberra hill
How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and address to tym@iinet.net.au. The first correct email received after 10am, Saturday September 14 wins a double pass to Dendy, the Home of Quality Cinema.
Last week: Congratulations to Peter Harris of Latham who was first to correctly identify last week's photo as a scene at the old Goulburn Pumping Station at the Goulburn Historic Waterworks on the banks of the Wollondilly River at Marsden Weir. Built in 1885-86, it contains the only working Appleby Steam Beam Engine in the southern hemisphere. Peter just beat Andy Hogan, June McKenzie and Maureen Marshall of Nicholls to the prize. Don't miss: The Goulburn Historic Waterworks are hosting the Steampunk Victoriana Fair on Saturday October 19 from 9am to 5pm. Details: https://steampunkvictorianafair.com.au/. Well worth the drive.
Village Creek
More information has come to light on Kambah's Village Creek, which flows underground through pipes for almost its entire length from its source on the slopes of Mt Taylor to its mouth at Lake Tuggeranong.
A highlight of last weekend's Kambah Heritage Day was the guest appearances of Stephen and Suzun Bennet, two of the Bennet children, who grew up at Kambah Homestead before the suburb was created in 1974.
Both Bennets regaled a throng of history afficionados with stories of growing up on their family farm, including memories of shearers at work in the woolshed on the corner of O'Halloran Circuit and Springbett Street.
However, it didn't take long for talk to turn to Village Creek.
"In drought, it meandered in places and in flood flowed very fast," recalls Suzun, who along with Stephen fondly remember a 44-gallon drum they called "the boat".
"The drum was cut in half, but the edges weren't sharp, they'd been soldered so you wouldn't cut yourself," recalls Stephen.
"As kids, trying to get into that boat and to stop it capsizing was a major thrill - we laughed ourselves crazy," laughs Suzun.
Good old-fashioned fun.
- CONTACT TIM: Email: tym@iinet.net.au/ or Twitter: @TimYowie or write c/- The Canberra Times, GPO Box 606, Civic, ACT, 2601
