Of Tragedy and Valor
Bill & George Ewen

In their association with the sea and fishing, they can recall a number of historical or significant events. 

For instance, George Ewen was crayfishing with Lionel Rumbelow aboard the Ivy when granite was extracted from West Island for use when Parliament House was extended in 1936. They ferried men, supplies, and mail to the island and also helped with the granite work during the day.

George and Bill often fished together, during a life-time that has included various boats ranging up to 30-foot in length. For many years, they fished for crayfish and mullet between August and April before heading down into the Coorong to fish for the rest of the year. The Ewen brothers were often called upon to rescue people who got into trouble.  

Bill Ewen had the honour of being the youngest member of a lifeboat crew in Australia when he joined the Lady Daily at Victor Harbor age of 16. This 65-foot craft was sailed and paddled. 

Besides fishing, George and Bill Ewens' other major interests are sport, both having played cricket and football for Encounter Bay for long periods. 

Tragically, George Ewen died while fishing in May 1983 and was discovered by his long-time friend Ween.

Bill's tales are quite a catch ...and more

•  Victor Harbour Times (SA : 1932 - 1986) 

•  Fri 10 Aug 1984 

A chat with Bill Ewen is a fishing expedition itself. Move with the ebb and flow of this seaman's reminiscing, and you net a magnificent cache of interesting tales. Bill's wealth of coastal stories span not only his own fishing career of over 50 years, but also stretched back to Victor Harbor's beginnings as the site of one of the State's first whaling stations. 

Like all true fishermen, Bill, who will be 80 in October, can tell some real whoppers and, with a wink, will gleefully recall tales which clearly have grown with the telling. Some fishing facts prove elusive as Bill drifts from one interesting topic to another, while other tales of the unexpected surface by chance. And throughout the chat, Bill has your attention hook, line and sinker. 

Memories 'Ah yes, I can tell some stories,' Bill laughs. 'Some you just wouldn't believe. 'Ask me anything you want to know, and I'll probably be able to tell you,' he said. Bill remembers selling fish to Simpson Newland, and getting rides on his car. 

But his earliest memory reaches back to when he was only four years old . 'After all, that is only 75 years ago,' he grinned. 'A few months ago, a woman came up to me asked if I knew anything about the Kirby family. 'I said to her:'! remember the day your grandmother was buried.' 'Yes. I was not going to school yet and from the other side of the road, I could see the hearse coming. 'My mother called on me because I was grubby, and so I went inside when the people passed by.' Said Bill:'She didnt believe me ? but she came back later to say I was quite right.' 

The town band came out to play when Bill was born at Newlandtown on October 5, 1904, he reports. 'There were seven girls before I was born,' explained Bill, 'so there was a family celebration, as I was the first boy.' Two brothers followed: George Ewen whose death last year saw Bill give up fishing; and another brother Fred who died as a child. Bill and his wife Florence now live in a house only a stone's throw away from where Bill was born. 

The Victor Harbor connection for the Ewen family began when his grandparents in 1855 became one of the first couples to be married by the area's first minister, the Rev. Ridgeway Newland. His grandfather had come from Scotland, and his grandmother from around Lancashire. The couple lived at the whaling station at Alex's Corner, named after his grandfather, and a number of their 15 children, including Bill's father, were born there. The little cottage was built from material brought out as ballast in the boats of that day. A palm tree grows on the spot where the little house stood. 'We used to play cricket around there, chucking the little half bricks away,' Bill recalls. In 1869, the year Bill's father, Lewis, was born, the family moved to a house in Main Road, where the Ewen Reserve is situated.

Bill's mother, Mary, was born on Christmas day on a boat this side of Kangaroo Island, as it was sailing up to Port Adelaide. Newland School days, fishing days, football days. Bill remembers it all. 'Just ask me anything you want to know,' he savs. 'I will debate with anyone on the subject,' he repeatedly challenges. 'I will top anyone in Australia with stories about the fishermen here for the past 120-130 years,' he asserts. 'My father told me all about them, and I fished against a lot of the old ones myself.' Bill Ewen is the end of the line for an Encounter Bav fishintf family which dates back to the whaling days of the 1800s. His memories of off-shore and on-shore incidents in the area have been recorded to become part of the forthcoming book 'Victor Harbor -Birthplace of S.A.'. 

This column will regularly feature personalities who will be mentioned in the prestigious publication undertaken by Victor Harbor District Council.

Bill has a lew recollections of the Newland family. 'You have heard of Simpson Newland,' he commented. 'I sold him fish when I was 16 years old. 'He and Peter Waite, a Scotsman I think, used to come down in a big car and get mullet from me. Simpson Newland would wear a top hat and long tail coat, grey trousers and pull on boots.' Bill commented :'I used to like them coming, as they used to bring me three or four Granny Smith apples. 'That was a treat.' Bill also enjoyed rides in Simspon Newland 's car. 'His car was No 2 in the State,' Bill commented. He went on: 'I knew Sir Harry Newland who knew my grandfather. 'His wife would always pay l/6d for jack salmon for baking. 'She told her friends, and they all started to buy them. 'That was 60 years ago.' School Bill admits he was never very keen on school . 'I only went to school for about six or seven years, and I was not a good pupil. 'I was pleased when I turned 14 and could leave school and start fishing. 'I packed my bags and said goodbye. 'My father was fishing, and it was natural for me to want to do the same. 

He counted among his school mates, Malin Rumbelow, who still lives in Encounter Bay. 'I used to be a bit rough when I was a lad,' Bill confided. 'The Victor Harbor boys and the Encounter Bay boys did not get on well together, and it would show in the football. 'There were some tough games.' 'I used to be a rover, and got some kicks on the shins.' There were quite a few after-school incidents as well, he added. 'I guess I always ran second - but I was Bill Ewen with an ornately-framed photograph of Ma mother most consistent! 'he laughed. 

Bill played football for Encounter Bay for 21 years, and cricket for Encounter Bay for 33 years. Bill remembers years ago when there were schools of fish in the area and competition was fierce. It was first come, first served, Bill pointed out. 'We would sit up on the Bluff and look out, and the first one to see them would have them.' 

Malin Rumbelow and Bill have been friends since before they went to school as youngsters. 'It was seven weeks before George died, when we brought Malin himself back to shore one day feeling ill,' Bill recollected. 'George and I, we had gone out to our nets, and we spoke to Malin who was at his nets. 'He said he was not feeling well, so I just turned round and rowed over to him, and we helped him. 'Seven weeks later, he dragged George out.' Said Bill:'Malin is finished fishing. 'I am finished fishing. And George has gone.' He commented:'! reckon the fish have got it easy now eh?' 

Condemned In the early days, it was not unusual for them to bring in 30 dozen crayfish a day, using 25 pots, Bill commented. And tonnes of mullaway could be caught at Goolwa . He recalls one day, around 1921, when the fishermen sent ten tonne of mulloway to market - and it was all condemned. 'There were 333 boxes of them,' said Bill. 'But it was a hot day, and there were no refrigerated lorries then, and thev ended up being condemned.' The two biggest mulloway Bill ever had were caught on the same dav, one was 103 lb and the other 104 lb. Fish sold for one penny each when Bill began selling, and this went up to two pennies. 'You woulndn't get two snapper scales for that today.' Bill can remember seeing schools of salmon a mile long. But there was one fishermen who used to always top anyone's tales, said Bill, who didn't believe a word he spoke. One was a tale about garfish so thick on the surface, they were pushing each other out of the water. 'He said there were so many, they were getting sunburnt /Bill laughed. Another likely story was a shark this fisherman claimed he saw, standing on its head in water 12 feet deep - and rising 14 feet out of the sea. 'That would make it a mighty big shark, 'mused Bill. Shark

Bill and his late brother George once caught a shark, 12ft 6in long, which was put on display in Victor Harbor. Locals could view the catch for 2 shillings a head. Bill recalls tales his father told him of the early whaling days. The last whale was caught in 1878. It was harpooned between the former working jetty and the screwpile at Granite Island 'and it went like fury' Bill was told. The whale pulled the men to what is now Chiton Rocks before giving up. The worst whaling disaster, said Bill, saw the men lose their boat and all their equipment - but no lives. The trouble occurred when the mother came along after her calf was harpooned. 'Well, she just swung around and hit the boat, splitting it in two,' said Bill.

'My father told me all the men had to be rescued, by the other boat, but they lost all their harpoons and gear. 'Not a very good day for them at all.' 

Bill also remembers hearing the tale of a disastrous fire, called Black Sunday, which occurred some time last century. 'I wa told the farmers at Hindmarsh brough all their stock down to the beach that day,' said Bill. 'And the fire spread so far, it reached the shore and the seaweed caught alight.' Bill himself has seen many bad fires 'which burnt for seven days and seven nights in the bush' he commented .

 'Ah yes,' says Bill, 'I will debate with anyone on events that happened here in the early days.' And you leave Bill knowing you have just rippled the surface of his local knowledge -with the promise to return some time to fish around for those ones that got away! 

• Victor Harbour Times (SA : 1932 - 1986), 

• Thursday 14 October 1976, 

• Page 10 

At this time (1926) the Ewen family were living at Encounter Bay where they would fish from June to March for crays, mullet and mulloway. In open boats they would patrol Encounter Bay from Commodore Point at Port Elliot to Newland Head and Seal Rock, setting pots for crays. They would also set gill nets around the Bluff and the inner bay for mullo-way, snook and mullet. 

In March Bill, George and their father would decamp and set up in tents around Currency Creek and the Finnis River. They relied more on 'ringing' for mullo-way and mullet rather than setting nets. This method was most effec-tive on still dark nights. The men in dinghies would patrol rocky areas of the river, waiting to hear the sound of mullo-way 'cracking' on the surface. This sharp noise was a result of the mulloway's peculiar habit of cracking its tail on the surface while feeding. He is a very wary and easily scared fish and great care had to be taken by the fishermen when they shot their gear. Any sudden noise such as an oar banging against the boat would send the school down and away immedi-ately. 

The men would carefully and quietly shoot the net in a circle around the fish. If the bottom was good they would pull the net into the dinghy and gaff the mulloway live out of the bunt. If the bottom was rocky they would create a commotion with their oars and scare the mulloway into gilling in the wings of the net. 

The Ewens also used the conventional set net method; the beauty of this was that while they spent the evenings ringing, the set nets were themselves catching fish. These men found that a good strong West to Southwest blow stirred the water well and brought best results for gilling. This then was the situation which existed without significant change until the 1940's.

Bill and George Ewen, together with Cliff Williams and Dave Honeyman would arise at first light and nose out into the channels in their boat the 'Rolly'. One man would sit at the top of the mast continually on the lookout. Once a school was spotted the favoured practice was to follow it into one of the dead-end channels around Gnur-lung. Here they would wait for a making or dead slack tide before shooting their nets. One of them would jump off into chest-deep water. He would act as anchorman while the net dinghy was quietly rowed around the school. The net used was of heavy hemp, 160 yards long and very deep (up to 30 feet) . When 'done up' it would be pulled into the dinghy from both ends. This forced the mulloway into the bunt, which was then towed into shallow water. Here the leadline would be thrown over the floatline, effectively bag-ging up the fish. They'd then be gaffed live into the dinghies. In this way the Ewens have caught up to 4 tons in one shot, with fish ranging up to 70 pounds weight. Usually they would catch a 'true' school; this being a mixture of all sizes. Sometimes the fish would be in a 'pure' school, all of very similar size ( usually 8 to 12 pounders). In the Spring the mulloway would first enter the Mouth and would move up the Coorong feeding on the 'softshell' crabs that lived in the coral outcrops along the channels. These crabs were particularly vulnerable at this time because their shells were malting. The schools of mulloway, in particular, were very mobile. A school which came into the Mouth with a stiff sou'wester in the evening could travel well up beyond Tauwitchere feed-ing all night and drop out the Mouth the next morning. In this way Spring schools of the heavy, mature fish could make any number of very rewarding night-time feeding excursions inside the Mouth before their time came to spawn in the ocean in December. The Ewens would wait in the sandhills at Tauwitchere to spot these first fish. They would follow them up to the Bumcoola Flats and Gnurlung before they would shoot their gear. These Spring fish were generally large with the females' roe rapidly ripening. When their summer time hauling techniques became stabilized the Ewen brothers gave up fishing at Encounter Bay altogether. After April and with the onset of winter, Bill and George would revert to ringing and blind hauling on suitable nights. This essentially was the routine followed by the Woodrow brothers; ex-cept they still relied on set nets as well, in addition to gilling and hauling Dick Woodrow would longline out of the Mouth in winter. This was a dangerous and tricky operation where the fish ermen in their frail dinghies anchored in the jaws of the Mouth and fed out up to 600 yards of line. The outgoing tide would carry this line, supporting 6 to 10 baited hooks away out into the heavy surf beyond the Mouth. Here the mulloway, feeding and congregating in prep-aration to moving in, would strike at the whole congoli or mullet used as bait. Quite often up to 30 men would be anchored abreast waiting their turn to shoot. Needless to say without a great deal of cooperation the whole exercise would turn into a chaotic shambles. It only needed one 'black sheep' to step out of line and hundreds of yards of line and hooks would roll up into a hopeless tangle. As a result of frayed tempers many explosive and dan-gerous situations must have arisen as these tough men ran foul of each other. Another unique method used at the time was to shoot a net out of the Mouth. It was essentially the same technique as longlining but far harder work; however the capac-ity for fish was far greater. The net would be shot off a dinghy in the Mouth on the outgoing tide and would be controlled through an attached rope by men and or horses on the shore. Again it would be swept hundreds of yards. out to sea and eventually around the beach where it was pulled in. In this way schools of up to 1 ton could be beached with one shot. Fresh water run off encouraged the fish to hang off the Mouth where the feed was carried to them. They wouldn't move into the Coorong in large numbers until this flow dwindled, only then would they move in to do their own hunting in the channels and backwaters of the Coorong. In summary, hauling was the main large-scale method used in the Coorong in the 1940's and 50's. It accounted for the majority of mulloway caught even though it could only be employed under ideal conditions. However, it has only played a very small part in reducing the vast mulloway population, to the extent that today the upper Coorong cannot even support one fulltime hauling boat. 

Most of the fishermen dropped out of the game in the late '50's, with the last successful hauler, Alan Burtt selling up three years ago. His boat was the only one patrolling the waters between Goolwa barrage and Pelican Point for a number of years. It is quite plain that these fishermen gave up because they caught ever decreasing quantities of fish as the years went by, I am convinced that the schools of mulloway are finding the Coorong an increasingly unattractive feeding environment for one reason, pollution. 

Brothers Born to be Fishermen.

• Victor Harbor Times, 

• Wednesday 17 February 1982

Fishermen are born, not made. 

Yes, you have to be born to it,' say two members of one of the South Coast's prominent professional fishing families — the Ewen family. Bill and George Ewen have been fishing for 60 years from Victor Harbor and in that time have seen thousands come and go. 

'We learned from the old-time fishermen and got to know all the 'tricks of the trade' to help locate and catch fish where an amateur would not.' 

They started at the bottom of the bottom of the industry - hawking fish around the town before going to school.

The grandparents Alexander and Mary Ewen arrived in the area about 1848. Alexander Ewen, originally from Glasgow in Scotland, was a whaler all his working life, and held the position of the last manager of the whaling company at the Bluff from 1871 to 1878.

George and Bill Ewen's father, Louis Ewen, also turned to the sea for a living as a fisherman, with the sons following suit. While young lads they were going on the boat with their father, gaining valuable experience of fishing.

George and Bill Ewen later took up professional fishing fulltime and recall the bumper times of the 1920s and 1930s.

“I remember one day from those times when 10 tons of mullet left Victor Habor on the train to Adelaide” said Bill. 

Unfortunately it was hot weather and something went wrong with the train at Strathalbyn - the whole lot was condemned.

The fishing has faded since then, and sadly, George and Bill Ewen do not believe the good times will return. The growth in recreational fishing, beach use, and the number of motor boats as well as installation of the Goolwa barrages had all affected the fishing. And they believe the situation will become worse each year.

In their life-time at sea, Bill and George Ewen have had their anxious and lighter moments and say that on some occasions they were lucky to get back. But they add that every professional fisherman has known these times - of angry seas, gales, and tricky coastline.

Catches, too, have yielded some excitement. They have netted a 17 ft 6 in shark, and another, in 1932, measuring 15 ft 6 in and weighing over 1 ton. George Ewen cut the jaws out of the 15 footer and recalls that though a big man he could lower the jaws down over me without touching the sides.

In the past years, smaller 8, 10, and 12 foot sharks were common in the nets, in fact, George and Bill Ewen used to fish out the sharks first so that they could get on with the business of catching fish. In those days the sharks were worthless. Now, they are worth good money, but in the past decade have become scarce as the bigger boats operating further out take their toll.

Bill and George Ewens’ grandfather, Alexander is widely credited with having killed the biggest shark in the area - 18 ft 6 in.

Alexander was born in Glasgow. He and Mary Ewen were married by the Reverend Ridgeway Newland in 1855 and Mr Ewen later became the last manager of the whaling company at The Bluff. He died in 1993 at the age of 67.

In their association with the sea and fishing, they can recall a number of historical or significant events. 

For instance, George Ewen was crayfishing with Lionel Rumbelow aboard the Ivy when granite was extracted from the West Island for use on Parliament House works in 1936. They ferried the men, supplies, and mail to the island and also helped with the granite work during the day.

Bill Ewen had the honor of being the youngest member of the lifeboat crew in Australia when he joined the Lady Daily at Victor Harbor around 1920 at the age of 16. This was a 65 ft craft that was sailed and paddled. Mr Ewen is also the only living member of the crew of the last lifeboat at Victor Harbor - The Arthur Seaceacy.

In addition, he recalls fishing against the remaining members of the Encounter Bay (aboriginal) tribe before they left for Point McLeay.

Besides fishing, George and Bill Ewens’ other major interest are sport, both having played cricket and football for Encounter Bay for long periods.

Now, George and Bill Ewen are the last two fishermen in a fishing family that has historic links with the area. They fished separately, but often together, during a lifetime that has included various boats ranging up to 30ft in length.

For many years they fished for crayfish and mullet before heading down in the Coorong to fish for the rest of the year. Now, with flat bottom boats, they go after fish only, spotting shoals and netting the fish.

What of the future? The two say they intend to keep on fishing until. . .

George Ewen - Born to Fish

•  Victor Harbour Times (SA : 1932 - 1986) 

•  Wed 4 May 1983 

George Ewen, a prominent member of the local pioneer and fishing family, was born to fish.  George died last week. He was 71 years old. George was preparing to net a catch off the Victor coast on Friday morning — doing what he has been doing for over 60 years. It is believed he may have suffered a heart attack.

George was buried on Monday at a specially chosen site in the local cemetery overlooking The Bluff. He leaves behind his wife, Lily Susan, two daughters, Margaret and Kay, and six grandchildren.

The funeral service, attended by relatives and friends in the district, took place in a packed Newland Uniting Church. Encounter Bay Football Club provided a guard of honour at the church and cemetery.

George was a well-known and well-loved personality around town. George, along with his brother and fishing partner Bill (78) played cricket and football for Encounter Bay in his younger days. George was also a member of the local Buffalo Lodge.

The family involvement in the area goes back many years.

Their grandfather, Alexander Ewen, settled in this area about 1848, after sailing to Australia from Glasgow, in Scotland. He was a whaler all his working life. Their father Louis also turned to the sea for a living, and George and Bill followed in his footsteps.

Until his death, George lived in the house where he was born.

Ewen Reserve and Ewen Terrace in Victor Harbor were named after the family.

During his life-long fishing career, George experienced many hazardous trips and many exciting catches.

Talking about his death, a family spokesman said: 'That's the way he wanted to go...'

Destined for a Life at Sea

•  Times (Victor Harbor, SA : 1987 - 1999) 

•  Wed 10 May 1989 

• by Janine Jones

Bill Ewens was destined for a life at sea before he was even born. His grandfather Alexander was the last manager of the whaling station al the Bluff at Encounter Bay and the six of the 15 Ewens children, brothers and sisters of Bill's father Lewis, were born there. When Bill was a young boy his father, who was a fisherman, used to tell tales about the old whaling station and about the rapture of the last whale therein 1878 'My father saw the last whale that was caught when he took my grand father's lunch down to him by the jetty at Whalers Haven. ' says Bill 'He said they were standing inside it to cut it up. 'The whale was caught between the screwpile and working jetty and my father told me that they harpooned him and it dragged them all the way to what they call Chiton Rocks now. 'My grandmother used to tell me tales. 

One was that they caught a whale that was only a calf and its mother came onto the scene and smashed the whale boat in half 'One of the crew had his arm broken and another one had his ribs fractured.' 'My grandmother told me she was left on her own for nearly three days when my grandfather went after a whale down at the Coorong and she thought they were lost . 'My grandfather used to have a lot of Aborigines as crew. They were very good in the whaling days and my grandfather thought a lot of them. 'Later 1 met one of the old Aborig ines who had worked with my grand father and he told me my grandfather had been very kind to them 'They were treated pretty hard in those early days. ' ' After capturing his last whale in

Alexander Ewens quit the whaling trade because it was no longer providing a reasonable living and took up fishing. Lewis Ewens followed in his footsteps and then the 14-year old Bill Ewens continued the family tradition when he left Victor Harbor School for a life at sea. 

As children, the Ewens boys hawked fish for their father around the Victor Harbor, Encounter Bay, Port Elliot and Hind marsh Valley areas and continued to do this when they went out on their own. 'In those days we used to sell the fish in half an hour. I used to go hawking before 1 went to school but there weren't many places in Victor Harbor then. I can remember when there were only about 14 places be tween Kings Beach and the lnman Bridge.' recalls Bill. 

Bill says in the early days, before the introduction of cold storage, fishing was a hard business. 'There were more fish in the early days but there were bad prices, and you had no ice so you couldn't keep them. 'A lot of time the fish got condemned in the hot weather. I've seen tonnes of fish, whole big schools, condemned.' 

Despite advances in technology fish ing remained to be a dangerous business and when George drowned at sea about six years ago Bill decided to give the game up for good. ' He had a bad heart and he fell over the side, I think he got caught in the nets. But after the day George died I never got back on a boat again ' However, George's death was not the first Bill had experienced during his life at sea. 'A lot of my cobbers got drowned I knew five or six from where I lived, three or four Rumbelows and two Joneses.

"It wan pretty dangerous. You'd be telling lies if you said you weren't scared " says Bill 'There were plenty of times I shook at the knees.' Bill believes he was lucky to survive many of his trips out at sea and says he was constantly worrying about the welfare of his mates on the boat 'You've got cobbers out then- ami you're looking after them and they are looking after you . 'If one of them didn't come back at the right time you'd be worrying about him until he did.' Fishing took Bill and George all around the South ('oast and Coorong They met many other fisherman during their travels and according to Bill, they made some good friends. However, the fishermen in some regions were not happy about having strangers fish their waters. 'We were like foreigners to the Meningie fellas but sometimes they'd he alright to us,' recalls Bill. 'Pishing there was like taking the bread out of their mouths but some of them were still very kind to us, especially at (Joolwa ' 

Bill and George also met a lot of people playing football for Encounter Bay and Bill still remembers the rivalry between the different teams, especially Victor Harbor and Encounter Bay 'We used to have rough games with Victor Harbor, we used to always seem to clash with them , ' ' says Bill . 'When I first started we used to have about eight Aborigines playing Two or three of our own and others from Point McLeay 'When I played if anyone touched me the Aborigines stuck up for me. 'And they were very loyal If there was a brawl they would always get in to help you 'We used to walk down the street and talk about what we were going to do to each other in the game I remember time game at Yankalilla when it got out of control and the umpire lined us up and said he was going to re|»ort all ?'!♦- of us if we didn't cut it out ' 

In his younger days Bill was an avid cricketer, playing for the Encounter Bay club for many years. Bill did not serve in either of the world wars, being too young in the first and too old in the second. However, he and George were sent out to look for enemy submarines on a number of occasions. They were sent out to look for a Japanese and German submarines around the South East but Bill says he doesn't know what he would have done if they had found one .

"There was a Japanese sub kicking around the South Hast but I don't know what good we could have done if we ran into it because we only had rifles on hoard 'My brother and I got a terrible fright one morning We weren't allowed out in the dark but we sneaked out early at Kings Beach 'We heard this loud noise and this large object came out of the water and up over us '1 couldn't say then whether it was a whale or a submarine but now when I think back it could have been a submarine ' 

Bill and his wife Florence now live at the Belmont Resthome at Victor Harbor, where they recently celebrated their H()th wedding anniversary Although he is now retired, Bill is still a fisherman at heart and thoughts of his days at sea still occupy his mind 'I dream a lot about catching schools of fish and where they are and about my mates my cousins, brother and the Rumbelow boys I just can't seem to get it out of my mind ' '