I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky.
John Masefield.
We have a little holiday apartment that we love to stay at in Phillip Island. Phillip Island is a place I have been visiting for decades (ug that sounds wrong)
It has taken quite the turn recently. I fear that the hipsters may be coming to replace our thongs with Birkenstocks and our fish and chips with poke bowls. Unfortunately I am immune to their bespoke, bearded pull, as evidenced by my pure unadulterated enjoyment of the brand new wine bar in town. I didn’t want to like it, but I did.
In recent years a visit to the Island for me has often included a wander around the beautiful grounds of the Old Boys Home Newhaven. There is something so dreamy and esoteric about the old crumbling buildings and outbuildings perched stoically on the edge of the bay.
I am obviously not the only one keenly reaching to hear the whispered song of these old buildings because this time when I visited, someone had knocked all the doors down or through or open.
I was told by one of the locals who also turned up (with his metal detector in tow) that a boy was once beaten so badly here that he eventually died. A little bit of further research seems to indicate that it was not actually here at the reformed boys home that this happened, but at the site next store which was eventually taken over. It seems that the Newhaven Boys Home (1914) and St Pauls Training School (established in 1928) were both homes to “delinquent boys” that operated with some success.
The Seaside Boys home next door was a different matter.
Can you imagine the remoteness and the conditions in 1914?
I wandered around a bit and captured some images of the buildings for my own enjoyment. I imagine that one day soon I will come for a look and the heritage listed buildings will be cordoned off, and the moment will be gone.
I’ll still have these photos though, and my imagination.
Enjoy.
The old chapel. I was not brave enough to walk upstairs….
Someone obviously loved the garden. The main buildings actually form a courtyard around a lovely but very overgrown garden. I think it was made even more delightful by how overgrown it was.
A direct walk to the water from the front of the property. My poor “models” were forced to pause their scurrying until I got a photo of them.
Those arches. Be still my beating heart.
The entrance. So impressive, even in decay.
Can you spot the face in the window? Me neither, but a little black and white filter certainly gives the vibe. 