They're Racing at Gerringong!

It was Saturday 16th November 1929. Somehow, thousands of people had made their way to the northern end of Seven Mile Beach (between what are now the townships of Shoalhaven Heads and Gerroa) to watch a program of motor car races.

The beach at that spot was ideal for racing. At low tide the sand was firm and well-compacted. And the beach was wide enough for ‘six cars abreast’ to compete on a makeshift oval circuit marked out with flags. Speed trials and motor racing had been held there since at least 1924 and well before that, in the 1860s, horse races had been conducted at the same location.

On Saturday 16th November 1929 there was an added ‘innovation…with the visit of a large number of (aero)planes’. This prompted the local newspaper, the South Coast Register (22.11.1929) to write a piece praising the two local policemen: ‘Never before had there been such a crowd, nor as many cars…The control of the crowd, management of the cars and direction of the 'planes to the parking areas fell on the shoulders of Constables Brogan and Hawker, and they handled the position so well that there was not a hitch in the programme, nor an accident to a spectator. The supervision of the 'planes landing and the care of the public were carried out very effectively, and these two officers are to be highly commended for their able work.’

(The day, though, ended with a tragedy. A ‘Gipsy Moth, crashed and dived headlong into the sea just outside the raging surf when two men — the pilot, Jesse O'Connor, and Mr. W. Berg, photographer of the "Guardian" newspaper — met their deaths in full view of the horror-stricken thousands of people’ (Nowra Leader, 22.11.1929). It was not reported whether a planned race between a car and an aeroplane was then able to proceed.)

This location, at the northern end of Seven Mile Beach and part of the Gerringong Council area, was used by a number of organisations among them being the Royal Automobile Club of Australia, the Royal Automobile Club of Sydney, the Bexley Moror Cycle Club, the Western Suburbs Motor Cycle Club, the Nowra Motor Cycle Club, the Sydney Bicycle & Motor Club, and the Corrimal Racing Club that had received sponsorship from Bennett and Wood (manufacturers of the very popular Speedwell bicycle) for at least one of their race meetings. It seems Gerringong Council normally tolerated use of the beach for these meetings as long as they were advised in advance that the meetings were to be held. And there were undoubted benefits to local towns: ‘The race was viewed with a great deal of interest by the large number of visitors who were staying at the various guest houses and cottages’ in the area. (South Coast Register, 14.1.1930)

Newspapers encouraged their readers to attend the meetings: ‘Any person desirous of thrills should not fail in their objective if they proceed to the Seven Mile Beach on a racing day, and watch a flying mile, more or less’ (Nowra Leader, 19.12.1924). And they also regularly included detailed information about forthcoming race meetings that would have helped boost attendances.

But not everyone was aways happy. A complaint from the Gerringong Congregational Church in 1929 (‘On the occasion in question it was hardly safe for pedestrians to go to the Congregational Church as the cars and bicycles were coming along the road as thick as bees’) led to Gerringong Council asking the police to take the names of those in attendance at the next meeting. (A Constable Wolters then gathered the names and addresses of riders from the Nowra Motor Cycle Club, ‘stating that no offence had been committed so far as the Police were concerned’ and a letter from the Local Government Association advised Council ‘it was an offence for any person to do any act in any public reserve which was likely to injure, endanger, obstruct, inconvenience or annoy any person in the reserve’. It suggested ‘Council put up a notice drawing attention to the fact.’.) Council’s response was to ban racing on the beach on Sundays (‘the beach should then not be disturbed by racing whir. wurz. crack-n. racks on a Sabbath, so that the gentle roll and lapping of the waves on the sea. shore will, in the future, continue in its quietude undisturbed’ is how the Nowra Leader, (26.7.1929), colourfully described the decision), with the Council arguing ‘these people mostly had the Saturday off each week, and they could race then’.

Things became more farcical when Berry Council decided to become involved, having its solicitors send a letter to the Sydney Bicycle and Motor Cycle Club ‘stating the beach was under the control of the Berry Council…(and) Council intends to take measures to enforce its powers’ (South Coast Register, 15.4.1930). Berry Council controlled the southern end of the beach ‘for 100 yards above the high water mark, which was no good whatever for motor racing’, but argued ‘Gerringong might give permission for racing on a certain day, and Berry Council might also give permission for some other sport on the same day, and then there would be a clash.’(South Coast Register, 3.6.1930)

Not every race meeting was successful. After a meeting when ‘hardly a hundred braved the elements that afternoon. A mist from the sea, obscured the sight of the cars a short distance from starting point…and "The Flying Mile," for all comers was shortened by half in consequence of the pelting rain’, the observation was made that ‘the old Aborigine belief is that certain presiding spirits control regions by mountain and sea. Saddleback held a fiery deity - the Seven Mile, a beneficent one, that gathered together the birds on land, and the fish in the sea. The latter evidently liked peace and quietness and gloomily expresses disfavour, when the peace of his surroundings is broken by the roar of racing engines or the explosions of their exhaust. Certain it is for every fixture when the motors meet to try conclusions on that seven mile of glistening sand, the weather plays up or the sea turns cranky, and "watery" obstacles from the sky above or the shore beneath, spoils success and enjoyment.

Saturday gave one of the worst cases in point - wind and rain doing their worst to deprive the afternoon of interest and inflict discomfort. As the sun lightened up the splendour, the last of the motors left the beach…That old legendary deity, it would seem, chuckled long and deeply, when left to his solitary splendours’. (Kiama Reporter & Illawarra Journal, 30.11.1927)

Some serious racing and time trials were undertaken at Seven Mile Beach.

On 7th October 1925, an automotive designer, driver and engineer by the name of Don Harkness became the first person in Australia to drive a car for a mile at over 100 miles per hour. He had built a new vehicle powered by a Hispano Suiza aircraft engine for the attempt and, cheered on by over 2,000 spectators, recorded a speed of 107.75mph. He received a trophy valued at £50.

It seems ‘that old legendary deity’ was in a non-too-accommodating mood when Norman ‘Wizard’ Smith, a well-known racing driver, attempted to set a 200mph record on Seven Mile Beach on Saturday 30th November 1929. Three thousand spectators turned up, but ‘the beach had depressions and bumps that made it dangerous for the try-out contemplated, besides which it was strewn with trails of slippery seaweed. Nevertheless, in several runs a speed of 130 miles was achieved - a bumpy ridge taken in a leap by the car as it ate the distance up and gave a qualm to those who remembered the tragedy of the beach (the crash of the Gipsy Moth) so recently.’

‘Wizard’ Smith returned the next day (a Sunday!), the ever-obliging Constable Wolters of Gerringong ‘marked out the course’, but ‘few people were about on Sunday as they did not know the record run had been made.’ On this occasion Smith recorded a speed of 128.57mph. ‘A_t the finish the car raised great fountains of sand and almost overturned…and the spray soon hid the car from sight of those at the Crooked River end._’

‘After his record-breaking run on Sunday, Mr Smith gave several people trips in his car and one man who had been whirled along at what is to Mr Smith the ordinary speed of 120mph, was so thrilled that he did not recover for about 24 hours, most of them spent in bed.’

The (few) spectators fared no better. ‘There were all sorts and kinds of cars on the beach…some 12 of them got stuck in the outlet of the river and some stayed there until the waves of the incoming tide washed over them…one of the cars which had been bogged, a Hudson, could not be shifted until the floor was awash and a lady who had remained at her post until then, was carried out bodily by her husband. As a bystander remarked, the age of chivalry was not yet dead.’ (Kiama Reporter & Illawarra Journal, 4.12.1929)