8 October 2026
Dot and Pete had a little
fibro house along Bolganup Road on the way to the Porongurup Ranges. Some of
the land surrounding the house was left as bush with kangaroos bouncing through
at dusk and some of it had a range of fruit trees. On our first day in this
area this time, we peeked
through the gate and it appeared that the orchard that we played in and ate
from in the 1960s and 70s was gone. A look at the aerial photos on
realestate.com proved the loss. I can’t remember all the different types of
fruit trees that Uncle Pete grew but amongst the apricot and plum trees, Granny
Smith apples were grown. Being able to step outside and pick a crisp, juicy
piece of lusciously green fruit was a miracle. I can even remember owning a
small vial of green apple perfume because the sensation of biting into a Granny
Smith was a treat for all the senses and I wanted to be reminded of it even
when I wasn’t there.
But
it appears this isn’t the only orchard that has disappeared and been replaced
by vineyards and blue gum plantations.
In a book
about the history of the Mount Barker Co-operative called “It started with
apples”, it seems that because this land was so densely forested, orchards were
developed because they required less land clearing than other farming options.
The first apple trees were planted in 1860. By 1908 there were 15 commercial orchardists
and by 1910, the numbers had soared dramatically to 75. The catalyst for this
was the opening up of the export market to Europe. This continued on and off
for decades with interruptions due to war and enhancements due to the
introduction of electricity to the area which enabled cold storage. However,
even by the time we started to holiday here in the 1960s, landowners were
starting to transition from the stone fruit and apple growing to less
labour-intensive or more lucrative alternatives such as cattle, sheep, plantation
timber and of course wine making. Although it would seem that wine making is no
longer as dominant an industry as it was from the 1980s onwards. Talking to
viticulturists during our travels, they all commented on the number of people
who’d given up with vines left dormant or pulled out altogether.
However
it seems that not all of Pete’s trees were lost. As we were driving back from a
walk in the Porongurup National Park, I spotted a woman in the front garden of Dot
and Pete’s house so we pulled in and spoke to her and her grandchild through
the gate. On hearing our story, she invited us in. She was from New Zealand, visiting
her daughter, Pamela, who had bought the place a few years ago with her
partner. Pamela, Lola her daughter, and
Frankie and Ava the dogs, generously showed us over the property and even into
the house. Different of course, from our time, but with some recognisable
points such as the original wood kitchen stove and jarrah wooden floorboards.
The bones of the house are still recognisable.
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