The Derwent laps the hills near Hobart. Part 3

 

The Derwent laps the hills near Hobart. Effortlessly turning grassland into a flooded river bed. The Derwent doesn’t run swiftly. People sail on it. A few people row on it. Regatta Day attempts to make The River the heart of this city. The River Derwent is Hobart. Hobart is the river and the mountain.

The Derwent River begins in Lake St Clair. Somewhere south of the Tasman Bridge the Derwent River evolves into Storm Bay. The Derwent River is  about 180 km long. Upper tributaries are developed for hydro power. Around New Norfolk irrigation from the river for hops and fruit.

1793: The River Derwent was called Rivière du Nord by the French admiral Bruni d’Entrecasteaux. A couple of months later the British under John Hayes named the river after the River Derwent in England. The name Derwent is Celtic for valley thick with oaks.  

1943: A floating bridge was built across the River Derwent to link Hobart’s eastern and western shores. It consisted of a series of pontoons with a movable span near the western shore. The floating bridge frequently suffered substantial storm damage. There was constant disruption of road and water traffic due to the raising of lift span.

1960: Construction of the Tasman Bridge began.

1965: The Tasman Bridge officially opened.  

1975: On the 5th January at 9:27 p.m. the Lake Illawarra struck a concrete pylon of the bridge, resulting in the deaths of twelve people and its closure for two years.  It removed two pylons and 127m of the bridge. Five motorists and seven crew of the ship died. The ship was off course and at fault.

The bridge connects the two halves of Hobart. A lot of people live on the eastern shore and worked in the CBD of Hobart. With the bridge down Hobart became two cities. At the time the Bowen bridge did not exist. The only way across the river was via Bridgewater. Enterprising business men started transporting commuters across the river. Boom times for ferry operators.

The river is 35m deep at this point and the ship still lies at the bottom of the river with a concrete slab from the bridge on top of it. Ships regularly pass over the sunken ship without a thought. You can go diving on the sunken ship but it is very muddy with low visibility.

1977: Rebuilding of the bridge finished on 8/10/1977.

When the bridge was rebuilt the ferry services stopped. One ferry operator diversified into building ships. Very successfully and still going as Incat.

Today every ship passing under the bridge picks up a local harbor pilot before passing under the bridge. All traffic is halted. Everybody is once again reminded of the day the bridge ceased connecting Hobart.

Swimming across the river you do tend to look for and imagine the ship lying down there. When running the bridge, you tend to enjoy the view. You don’t think of the traumatized bridge or photos of cars on the broken bridge.

Normally I see the bridge covered by a blanket of living, moving runners and walkers. Concentrating, focused and pounding the bitumen. This year I run amongst fewer runners. The crowd is ahead of me.

Across the bridge is the second drink station.  Opposite Government House. Two cups of water for me. A few volunteers scurry around picking up discarded cups. Behind them is the Cenotaph. Every year I run I get slower and slower. A glance at the Cenotaph reminds me of the alternative to getting slower and older.

Previous races tell me the finish is a tease. Run past the finish line, tour Battery Point, and then come back to cross the finish line.

Crossing the finish bump in the road I discern an idea of my time. I am hot and tired and grab some water.

I try and find my lift home. It is a very big very active crowd. Thousands of happy sweaty people. We are all wearing medals. Some ran the bridge for the first time. Some ran better than last time. Some are getting older and slower. Everybody medal tells a story.

I eventually find my lift. We now discuss where we should go for a cup of coffee. We depart heading towards our chosen cafe.

Behind us a happy crowd talking; drinking water and taking photos. The organisers are less visible. They have created a delicious, wonderful crowd full of proud, exhausted, chatty people. The organisers have made many of us Hobartians a tiny bit healthier. Physically, socially and emotionally. One runner came first but, I think, the organizers, volunteers, spectators and the runners are all winners.