WATER, water everywhere. And not a drop fit to drink. And would you really want to?
We all live in a watery world, but water can annoyingly pop up in the most surprising and unexpected places.
This unstoppable liquid gatecrasher can infiltrate, ooze, seep, soak through, or percolate almost everywhere. Would you believe it can create lakes underground in old mine tunnels (and subterranean Newcastle is riddled with them) or make unintended huge swimming pools in city basements?
The wrath of water came to mind last week when our beloved art deco Newcastle Ocean Baths celebrated its centenary.
But what about the original, hidden Newcastle city baths, not located outdoors, but indoors off Newcomen Street in the heart of the old CBD? Haven't heard of it? Little wonder, as this historic Corporation or Municipal Swimming Baths housed behind a narrow, but decorative, two-storey Corinthian facade opened in 1888, but lasted just 18 years.
The indoor swimming oasis measuring 27.5metres long by 10.5metres wide, held 370,000 litres of water and was fed by seawater pumped in over six hours.
It still exists, sort of, intact but without any water beneath the sloping floor of the City Arcade recreated on the same site In 1939. Countless swimming carnivals and swimming lessons for patrons were once held there. In 1904 a national swimming competition (for the one and only time) was even staged there. It closed two years later in March 1906.
City miners, coming straight from work for a quick dip, helped seal the pool's fate by regularly blackening the water. But, by then, there were drainage issues, and nearby beaches such as Newcastle and Nobbys were becoming popular.
After the baths closed, the underground site became a small picture theatre for more than eight years, then a billiard saloon, and finally a printery. The site's full story is outlined in my book, The Hidden Hunter.
One surviving photograph inside the old municipal baths (pictured) seems to show it being dark and dingy, but nothing could be further from the truth. After all, 85 new electric lamps illuminated the interior.
Moving along, I was fascinated years ago to hear a tale from former miner John B, of Caves Beach, about a hidden underground 'lake' in the Merewether/Glenrock area. John said it was a special school for mine trainees based at the nearby, now gone, Burwood Colliery at Whitebridge. Each course, involving about a dozen students, lasted three to six months with their classroom located close to the pit bottom.
This Burwood School began in the late 1940s, but closed in the 1950s. It then reopened in January 1980.
"One of the jobs two of us would occasionally do was to inspect the (bricked-up) fire seals of disused mine tunnels beneath coastal Merewether (and take gas readings) to make sure the area was still safe," John, then 74, said.
"Part of the mine was flooded, so we'd use a small aluminium boat permanently moored down there to row across a lake maybe 300 to 400 metres long in the old tunnel system (dating back to the mid 1850s).
"The water was waist-deep in there, so it was the best way to get around. A lot of blokes wanted to take this dinghy home with them," he joked.
Weekender spoke this week to former Newcastle lord mayor and veteran surveyor John McNaughton about the likely existence of other 'lakes' created by seeping water in the labyrinth of old Hunter mine tunnels.
Although initially sceptical, he said he had never personally surveyed down the Burwood pit, which closed in 1982.
"Flooded mines are no-go zones," he said flatly.
"There's probably six to eight old mines around Merewether Heights, alone.
"But I recall two odd mine flooding cases.
"One was at Waratah about 10 years ago and the other was in Henry Street, Merewether, behind the golf club."
"Those workings tipped away to the south and would fill up with water, and the only way it could get out when the space was full was for the water to go up and over onto the golf course," he said.
All of which brings me to a remarkable picture taken ages ago by mine electrician Barry Howard of four men in a rowboat underground at the Northern (Rhondda) Colliery, near Teralba. When the picture was taken, a dam had overflowed and flooded the west tunnel.
The picture's date, however, is unknown.
The rare photograph comes courtesy of Special Collections at the University of Newcastle (UoN), and the four water enthusiasts shown are listed as Frank Carney, Peter Strang, Les Morrison and Reg Hepplewhite.
Which brings me to another odd tale of unexpected flooding, involving the former landmark Newcastle Herald building in Bolton Street.
At the time, in the 1990s, The Herald was about to remove a two-storey, 91-ton black giant of a printing press that had been on emergency standby since 1985.
Bolted to the floor in a deep pit, after soaking up oceans of ink and spitting out millions of newspapers for decades, this mighty old Goss Headliner rotary press with its 25 miles(40km) of contact wiring, was about to be dismantled for scrap.
A crew of up to 13 were once needed to operate this metal monster. Everyone then wore earmuffs to prevent industrial deafness. Also, when the press roared to life at the touch of a button, the whole Herald building used to shake.
Also gathered to say farewell on the day I was there were retired pressroom employees Jim Garven, Jim Taylor and ex-head electrician Kevin 'Chip' Brain.
The beast was to be dismantled over 10 weeks using spanners, not by oxyacetylene torches (normally a four-week task) because the leftover oil and paper dust represented a fire risk
Soon, other tales emerged from the trio of old hands.
The most intriguing yarn was how sneaky an intruder water could be.
As 'Chippy' Brain said at the time: "When we dug the pit in 1963 into the earth to hold the press (about 25 metres long by four metres deep) we didn't realise that we had our own 'Tank Stream' running down The Hill under this building.
"It rained, and we came back the next day to find the pit filled up like a swimming pool. The water's beautifully clear. It's filtered through a white clay.
"The pump still goes 24 hours a day. You're not allowed to drink the water, and it's now re-directed by pipes and pumped into the roof for the building's cooling system. There's a river behind that (south) wall," he added.
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