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The Mattens Cliff


wazatherfisherman

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After becoming a regular fisherman on the rocks at Dover Heights, you began to get to know the climb. I don't just mean know the way, but really know every step, particularly on the largest of the two rope climbs.

From the moment you got over the cliff-side safety fence, within a few yards, you're on your way downward.

The first part down is very steep going, with soft, shifting sand, held together by a little coarse grass and small shrubs and by the time you've gone down about 50 feet in height, you're now out less than 20 feet eastwards- towards the ocean, from where you started at the fence. From this point on, any slip outwards and it's a huge drop, all the way to the bottom- not entirely a vertical fall all the way, but you would tumble, with nothing to grab for and then be over the vertical wall of the cliff, about 270-280 feet above the ledge below. If you slipped up on this section, there was no chance for survival.

Edging along foot wide bits of sandstone, walking on angled overhanging ledges and protrusions, and in one spot, on pre-marked foot spaces, the white marking paint barely visible from years of being trodden on. A few places, along and below this section, you have to face into the cliff and edge along in a crouch position, there are a few small, purpose cut hand-holds, no hurrying along this bit, as you had to make sure your backpack doesn't get caught anywhere on protruding rock, especially just above your head, so you lean out backwards. It's slippery along here, water seeps through the rock naturally in a couple of spots, even if it hasn't rained for weeks. Grab the hand holds firmly.

The rods, secured tightly to each other by either 3 or 4 straps or bits of cord, useful in some of these "mini-climbs" as a steadier, like an extended walking stick. Everyone had to carry there own and for much of this access, you couldn't even pass your rod to one of your companions, rather instead, "set" it, leaning in towards the cliff, or pushing them sideways as you passed difficult parts. The fibreglass copped scrapes, no matter what care was taken, I doubt today's graphite would stand up to the treatment anywhere near as well.

A lot of guys hated this mid section as much as the rope climb, but personally, I didn't mind it compared to the ropes below.

It takes less than 10 minutes to traverse this top section and finally, you found yourself on a narrow angled ledge, again with a few cut foot marks, which sat only about 8 or so feet above an equally narrow path, going downwards, in the opposite direction from where you'd come. In effect, you were "zig-zagging" backwards and forwards as you moved down. Foot down on top of a piece of old pipe that had a "T" junction hammered on to make a step about 3 inches wide, then a rock used for another step and you're on the path.

The path trails steeply down for about 50 yards and is clay and dirt, no real danger walking the path, providing you stay away from the "drop" side. Then suddenly, you've arrived at the "small climb" - an almost vertical wall, dropping about 35 feet down. Atop this climb, a large, iron peg (we later replaced it with a big stainless one) is cemented in, with two ropes attached, left in place permanently. There is a natural ledge about halfway down the wall, that was undercut enough to comfortably lean on while holding the rope, and chiselled-out foot steps. These steps, mostly between 2 and 3 inches deep, just enough to easily get the toe of your shoe in and were spaced alternately down the entire wall, every left and every right exactly below each other. This made for easy sliding of your foot, just reach straight below the one above, making for easy reach in the pitch dark- fisherman's climbing times.

Alternating foot steps meant you could hold your rods in one hand and simply hang onto the two climbing ropes in your other hand. Why two? In case one breaks, permanently set ropes are exposed to both water run-off and the sun. This climb was basically one foot after the other, going straight from cut hole to the next, it was relatively easy. You climb with your legs, not hands, your hands are there holding the rope as a "steadier"- same as climbing a ladder.

Then you scramble down about another twenty feet below the small climb's wall and you've reached the final stage. Backpacks off, rods down, you've reached the pulley, sitting on the most eastward part of the cliff, well out from the vertical wall and from where the gear and rods are lowered to the the ledges below

The pulley is a very basic frame, shaped like a "T" with an extended length top. The downward post, cemented into a chiselled hole about a foot back from the edge, the top, extending out about 30 inches over this edge and the opposite end about 6 feet long, bolted to the wall with about four or five bolts. A pulley wheel on a strong frame bolted to the T and a rope roughly 120-130 feet long tied to the frame and threaded through the pulley wheel. This was always a hated job, due to someone had to lean out over the edge, holding onto the frame, to thread the rope. Nothing underneath the pulley for about 120+ feet.

One of us would then crouch and move crab-like, to the left, back inwards under a long overhang, about 4 feet high and about 40 feet to where the main climb sits. Then, after shaking the ropes to "dust" off any debris, make their way down the vertical wall. While one climbed, the remaining crew tied the backpacks on and after taking the strain on the rope, carefully pushed the gear over the edge, making sure it didn't swing on the rope. Once lowered, the first climber, after reaching the bottom of the ropes, would then untie the load, rope pulled back up and the rods would be tied next, to come down butts first. If there were only two of us, packs and rods were lowered together, with the rods hanging about 4 feet below the packs. Doing the lowering in this manner, once the rods reached the bottom, a bit of a push on the rope ensured the packs didn't end up on the rods. The last ten or so feet, one of those lowering, would move to the edge, take hold of the pulley frame, lean over slightly and direct the "push" of the rope, so an accurate landing was achieved. Then the pulley rope untied and dropped over as well,

There were several reasons why the rope came with us, firstly, if anyone got washed in, the rope could be used as a line to help get them out. Secondly, if you were going to leave it attached to the pulley, you had to tie it off to a protrusion below, so the wind wouldn't get it, as we'd already had a couple of ropes blow into a crevice, high up and out of reach, getting wedged in by the crown knot used to "seal" the end of the rope. If someone else came down, they had to untie the rope from the frame and carefully remove from the pulley wheel, so as to tie their own rope on, since the one already in use was tied off at the bottom. Thirdly, for a period, the ropes were being stolen while we were down fishing, making for an annoying and slower retrieve of the gear via the climbing ropes.

The climbing ropes were permanently in place, tied to and around 4 large iron pins, about an inch and a half thick. The pins had been placed in deep holes, laboriously chiselled out with a star chisel in years gone by, then cemented in place in a large cement block. The ropes were replaced spasmodically, whenever wear was noticed or they started to look too swollen from being wet too often, for long periods. These ropes were around an inch and a quarter- inch and a half diameter and your life depended on them being kept sound. Two ropes hung off each side, so you could have two in each hand, again, like holding the sides of a ladder.

One of the groups of guys fishing the spot, were firemen and they had great quality ropes and replaced them every twelve months or so, if not earlier. Other rope sources were both the ferry's and also the army, as both organisations generally replaced their equipment regularly.

To climb the big wall, straight down, was always a bit scary, prayers were often said, and everyone would watch as each climber carefully and methodically descended, about 30 feet to the "moment of truth" as it was known. At that point, the downwards wall went under at 90 degrees and you had to feel underneath, sight unseen, for a ledge that was down about 3 feet and in about 18 inches. There was a chiselled foot hole on the wall a few inches above the overhang-the "white foot hole"- it was called, you couldn't see it on the way down, but a white painted stripe on the wall above it indicated where to slide your foot, until about an inch and a half of the toe of your right shoe slipped in. This same overhang created the biggest nervous moments on the way back up, as a long stretch, followed by a real good push upwards from the "white foot-hole" was required, before safety was at hand.

After getting both feet on the ledge under the overhang, one more long step downwards put you on slightly more comfortable footing- a near foot wide ledge, from which you would then turn side on, never letting go of the ropes the entire way down, (other than to change over to the next set). facing north, and descend the next 10 or so feet to "halfway" via a series of small protrusions, about 2 inches wide, where the ropes were also attached to another set of pegs, similar to the top set. The ropes had been carefully measured out when installed, leaving enough rope to reach the halfway ledge, yet enough to travel across to the halfway pegs, which sat about 12 feet to the side of the vertical.

"Halfway" was about 2 feet wide and really solid, unlike the series of protrusions just navigated and a spot to get your breath back on the way back up, during the return journey at trip's end. From here it was roughly 60-65 feet down and although the first 10 or so feet offered decent toe holds for your feet, for the next 50 something feet, spots to place your toes on were at a minimum, with not many spots to get any more than just your toes in at best. About 25 feet from the bottom, there was a flat spot on the wall, with no toe holds at all, but 2 holes had been chiselled about 3 feet apart, one exactly below the other. A 3 foot stretch, first hole, then 3 foot to the other, then another 3 foot to better footing. After this, there was a ledge about a foot wide, that you could stand on with both feet, albeit snug against the wall. Then, some basic honeycomb wall, with plenty of places to put your feet and you were down! 

Although there is a really nice platform down about another 15-20 feet directly out from the climb, about 750 meters south is the main and largest fishing area, complete with a great "cave" and multiple fishing spots, so still about 15 or so minutes of boulder hopping and a couple of simple climbs to go, then fisherman's "paradise"- almost every species of fish commonly caught around Sydney's rocks available. 

The trip back was generally an easier climb up the ropes, due to the fact that you could see where your feet were going to go, unlike going down, where you were feeling as much as seeing.

Over the years, we took plenty of guys down and would tie the "safety rope" around them and then thread the rope around the four pegs at each of the two stages. They still had to climb independently, but the reassurance of the rope around their chest, got them up and down. In around 22 years of going down, only 2 guys "froze" on the cliff face ropes and both had to be manually hauled/dragged up.

None of the regulars complained or bagged anyone for getting as far as the ropes and deciding it wasn't for them, some people didn't realise until they were actually viewing the rope climb- always better to be safe than sorry. My own brother finally came down after years of thinking about it and then deciding he wasn't going to attempt the climb back up. He calmly said "when you get up top, just ring the helicopter for me, there's no way I'm climbing back up there"

Fair enough, so we called the Police and the Westpac chopper picked him up and dropped in the cliff-side park within 15 mins of the call. They said the same thing- rather pick up a healthy patient than a body.

At the bottom of the cliff, you may as well have been in another country, so isolated, yet so close to civilisation, but when we were young and adventurous, it was fitness, fun, fishing and adventure- all within a short distance from Australia's largest city.

JUST A WARNING!!- anyone considering doing trips like this, NEVER go without experienced companions- I mean experienced on a regular basis at the actual location you're planning on going to. No adventure is worth risking your life for.

Hope those reading enjoyed the read.

Cheers Waza

Edited by wazatherfisherman
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2 minutes ago, JAKSShark said:

Another awesome read! Very gripping story that got me feeling like i was there (nervous just thinking about it) 😃 

Hi JAKSShark I thought I'd better put in a decent description of what the place is like, due to having so many stories from going there. Very pleased it's turned out well enough for you to get the "feel" of the place!

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Waza. I was never a rock fisho, like you, always had a boat and only on rear occasions would I go land based. I always thought you blokes were a few pence short of a quid but admired your skill in negotiating those sort of rock ledges.

reading your summary makes me think I made the right choice in being a boater, but then again I missed out on all the adventures you blokes had. I can only imagine the adrenalin rush you felt with every step you took.

I used to think no fish was worth the effort as I had it so comfortable having the luxury of a floating platform that took me to far off places where the rock fishing brigade 's line couldn't reach.

Then again I had my moments in boats as well.

Good read and thanks for taking the time to share it with us.

Frank 

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Waza, you're description of the Mattens climb makes the cliffs around Currarong seem very benign. Sometimes the climb in is was all part of the adventure for us young, bulletproof fishermen.

A few spots I know of have footholds and metal spikes chiseled into the rockface like you refer to and I've always wondered how brave/crazy the guys were that made them, let alone how they suspended themselves off vertical cliff faces and worked with 2 hands.

Another great read mate. Thank's for sharing.

 

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3 hours ago, Burger said:

Awesome read Waza . .  . gotta say though . . . you blokes were freakin nuts! :1yikes: :1worthy: :D

Hi Burger thanks!  On about the 4th trip down, no more safety rope and then for a few years, no drama's. I did this description because I needed to, so as to tell of a couple more trips.

You would have loved the Blackfishing down there, abundant fish and giants amongst them, with a few guys burleying, it was great action!

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3 hours ago, frankS said:

Waza. I was never a rock fisho, like you, always had a boat and only on rear occasions would I go land based. I always thought you blokes were a few pence short of a quid but admired your skill in negotiating those sort of rock ledges.

reading your summary makes me think I made the right choice in being a boater, but then again I missed out on all the adventures you blokes had. I can only imagine the adrenalin rush you felt with every step you took.

I used to think no fish was worth the effort as I had it so comfortable having the luxury of a floating platform that took me to far off places where the rock fishing brigade 's line couldn't reach.

Then again I had my moments in boats as well.

Good read and thanks for taking the time to share it with us.

Frank 

Hi Frank and thanks! I actually have an odd fear of heights- believe it or not! Trouble was, the fishing there is better than anywhere, no crowds and definitely adventure, so I forced myself to go.

 Wally McLuckie who took us down the first few times, was fishing there every week until into his late 70's. Even after his Dr told him he could only carry 5 kg of gear- due to a slow recovering hernia, that didn't stop him, he just took his Blackfish gear, then cleaned, skinned and cut his catch up, only carrying home what went in the pan. 

He took a hand-line to fish for Snapper and whenever he got one (usually over 4 kg!) we'd carry it up for him. He only used 2 different baits for Snapper- either Garfish he caught himself or Blackfish gut 

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2 hours ago, Green Hornet said:

Waza, you're description of the Mattens climb makes the cliffs around Currarong seem very benign. Sometimes the climb in is was all part of the adventure for us young, bulletproof fishermen.

A few spots I know of have footholds and metal spikes chiseled into the rockface like you refer to and I've always wondered how brave/crazy the guys were that made them, let alone how they suspended themselves off vertical cliff faces and worked with 2 hands.

Another great read mate. Thank's for sharing.

 

Hi Pete wasn't it great to be bulletproof! Seems a LONG time ago now!

The ropes always gave you butterfly's, no matter how well you climbed. Many of Sydney's rock spots have been closed off and access destroyed by councils or vandals, 

Just doing maintenance was both difficult and dangerous, the guys who develop spots like the Mattens must have been fearless and whoever chiselled the "white foot hole" would have been hanging out backwards about 85 feet above thin air!

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19 minutes ago, wazatherfisherman said:

Hi Pete wasn't it great to be bulletproof! Seems a LONG time ago now!

The ropes always gave you butterfly's, no matter how well you climbed. Many of Sydney's rock spots have been closed off and access destroyed by councils or vandals, 

Just doing maintenance was both difficult and dangerous, the guys who develop spots like the Mattens must have been fearless and whoever chiselled the "white foot hole" would have been hanging out backwards about 85 feet above thin air!

Plenty of spots have been blocked off down here too Waza. Even relatively safe ones I used to climb as a 6 year old.

Seeing some of the old footage on The Mattens makes me think some of those guys who chiseled the holes may have worked on the Harbour Bridge or as riggers on the early day high rise buildings. Fearless men and no Workcover back in those days.

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My legs got wobbly when you described leaning out to slip the rope into the pulley & the white line foot hold caused my wrists to tense up

That’s an awesome description of the climb Waza that would’ve been an amazing climb, heart in mouth & what an adrenaline rush 

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3 minutes ago, 61 crusher said:

My legs got wobbly when you described leaning out to slip the rope into the pulley & the white line foot hold caused my wrists to tense up

That’s an awesome description of the climb Waza that would’ve been an amazing climb, heart in mouth & what an adrenaline rush 

Hi Dieter, when you got well practised on the cliff, you would be only about 90 seconds on the ropes going down and 2 minutes going up and yes it was a genuine adrenaline rush going down. Up was more like a sense of relief for me after I got off the ropes and "crabbed" to the pulley, knowing the worst was done again until next trip.

The joy of fishing made me go, regardless my fear of heights

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