THE Calvert family’s pathway to Port Stephens, and Fingal Island in particular, was a long and twisting journey commencing in the north of England.

It was in Huddersfield that Herbert Calvert’s father opened the Crusader Woollen Mill.

Years later young Herbert, as son of the boss, became part of the management team.

Unfortunately, Herbert committed an unforgivable act – he married a worker!

For his perceived poor choice of a partner in life Herbert and his new wife were expelled to Albany, Western Australia, where they had two children – Herbert Bracken Calvert and sister Louie.

A move to Sydney followed where a young Herbert met his future wife Nancy while training the women’s rowing team for the Olympics on the Nepean River.

Now you are beginning to ask – what has this to do with the Outerlight on Fingal Island?

Well the link is through wife Nancy (nee Lund), who was part of a pioneering fishing and light keeping family in Nelson Bay.

Nancy’s Uncle George Lambourne, for a wedding present, had given ‘Bert’ a block of land in Nelson Bay.

After moving to town, Bert befriended Wilfred Reginald Tulk.

Wilf was originally a banana grower from Coffs Harbour who became Head Keeper on the island with Assistant Bill Southern and Mr Hickey third in charge.

“The beautiful garden half way along the track near the turn off to Shelley (Grit Hole) was all Uncle Wilf’s work,” said Bert’s daughter Louie, who was eight-years-old at the time.

The Calvert family were regular visitors to the island in the early 1950s, parking their car at Wreck Beach and walking across Box Beach over Fly Roads or Old Rocks around the beach and across the Spit.

Then a steep pinch up onto the island and along the track to the lighthouse.

The Calvert kids – Ray, Deidre and Louie – were on “Treasure Island”, bushwalking around the island and swimming in Shelley and feasting on sea food and locally grown fruit and vegetables.

They particularly loved Shark Bay, the most secluded and peaceful corner on the island.

The kids would walk in file from the lighthouse down a rocky track to the water’s edge where they were greeted, on each occasion, by a number of wobbegong sharks of all sizes.

Amazingly the sharks, which were in big numbers, would nose up into the shallows so that their noses and backs were out of the water.

It was never understood why this strange event happened.

Could it have been that they were expecting to be fed or was it curiosity?

Surely they weren’t trying to make friends?

Louie’s memories included a feeling of complete freedom, sleeping in the house surrounded by the noise of the sea and Tuppence the dog.

“Tup walking up the lino hallway and the click, click of his paws on the hard floor – I can still hear it,” she said.

“I can also smell the beautiful aroma of fresh bread which was baked almost daily by Aunty Olive.

“If the full loaf of bread was not eaten it was dunked in water the next day and placed back in the oven for half an hour.

“When it was taken out it was just like fresh bread.

“The island was a happy place, we were always surrounded by family and friends.”

Dobbin, the island’s horse, would pull the trolley from the wharf on wooden rails to the top of the rise before being hitched to the cart for the transfer of stores to the keeper’s quarters.

A docile animal on most occasions, Dobbin somehow knew when McLelland would deliver stores to the wharf and it was time to be hitched up.

The horse’s temperament changed and he became grumpy and hard to handle.

The Calvert kids loved nothing more than to hitch Dobbin to the cart and drive him down to the Grit Hole.

Wilf Tulk told the kids to travel slowly, however when they rounded the bend, out of sight, Dobbin was given a free rein and went up a gear or two.

“We gave him full throttle,” said Deidre.

When Dobbin got too old to work there was always someone from Nelson Bay who would bring the bags of feed out for the old horse.

Without teeth, Dobbin would spit out the corn which he couldn’t chew.

When Dobbin got pensioned off he was replaced by a tractor.

“More reliable but not half as much fun,” added Ray.

The lighthouse, which was always referred to simply as “George”, moved on a clockwork system which sometimes broke down.

When it did break down passing ships complained to Maritime that the light was out of sequence.

Every lighthouse has its own sequence and Point Stephens was not what it was expected to be.

Wilf and his assistant Bill Southern rotated the light with their fingers for long periods of time.

The Calverts recalled the telephone on the island.

“Ring Nelson Bay 1 and you would be connected to the lighthouse – along with a few others,” Deidre said.

“All calls went through the Nelson Bay exchange which was controlled by Ernie Harris.”

Deidre was a telephonist on the exchange at the time.

“There were fifty lines, many party lines, which could only be called – dangerous. Anyone could listen in.” Deidre recalled.

By John ‘Stinker’ CLARKE