UNTOLD HISTORY OF WA: From a muddy bath to swimming baths on the river

With a river on the city’s doorstep and an unrivalled climate, it was only natural for the settlers who had made their way to the Swan River Colony to take to the water. And that meant addressing the question of where to take the plunge, and dressing appropriately to do so. The Western Australian Times observed on August 31, 1875, that “it certainly has flitted across our practical brain, now that the summer is approaching, that we should have a public bathing place”. “We can hardly conceive how Perth could have existed for even 12 months without having made some provision for a bathing place. “Leaving out the strenuous necessity for cleanliness in order to ensure public health, we have the still greater incentive of a warm and almost tropical climate. “We hear a great deal about our fearful sanitary condition. “It is common to lay the whole cause of such upon the condition of streets, drainage, etc, but we do not think we are far out in asserting that individual attention to cleanliness will go a long way towards promoting public, as well as individual health. “If, as we opine the proper facilities exist for the formation of baths for the public, we have little hesitation in asserting that the neglect in their construction robs the city of one-half of its due modicum of health, besides denying to all, one of the most invigorating luxuries in a warm climate,” the paper said. The State Library’s Swan River stories site says that to facilitate river bathing, a tin bathing shed adjoining an enclosure was erected between the William Street and Barrack Street jetties in 1884. But there were problems. The West Australian reported on February 7, 1884, that “great complaints continue to be made regarding the conduct of the larrikins who frequent the new bathing house beside the Recreation Ground”. “The erection of this bathing house in the locality chosen has done nothing to promote either decency or cleanliness, the objects for which the accommodation was said to be required. “The water in which the frequenters of the premises disport themselves is polluted with sewage, and their gambols, (are) . . . within direct range of observation from the only part of the river which ladies are in the habit — or, rather, used to be in the habit — of frequenting.” The “ungarmented” bathers pay uncostumed visits to the mainland, for which they sometimes exhibit a preference as a dressing place to the shed so kindly provided for them. “The language they address to one another in very high-pitched tones is seldom free from epithets to which some listeners have been known to take exception,” The West Australian said. On February 2, 1893, the paper lamented that little had been done to provide a proper facility for river bathing at the city, and stressed the need for reclamation of the river foreshore along the Esplanade. “Every day is revealed, in all its hideousness, the mud flat which extends from the Yacht Club to William Street Jetty, and each afternoon the sea breeze which should bring with it the pure air of the ocean, distributes over one of the most populous parts of Perth exhalations of a most unpleasant and far from healthy description. “Another matter pertaining to sanitation, and of which the Swan River has much need, is a bathing house. “The difficulty in the way of the establishment of a bathing house which might without discomfort be bathed in would appear to be the shallowness of the water upon the town side of the river.” And nudity continued to offend. “Anyone now taking a boating party containing ladies down the river in the afternoon has to carefully watch not only the winds or the tide but also the banks whereupon unclothed men congregate,” The West declared. “Complaint has more than once been made that the river in the daytime, except in the more secluded parts, is no place either for women or children. “But not only is the sense of sight disgusted; the sense of hearing is also liable to be shocked. “It would seem, therefore, that it is time that some attempt was made to put a stop both to indecent bathing and to the superfluous use of bad language upon the river. “Under Section 104 of the new Police Act, bathing, except in proper costume, is prohibited between the hours of six in the morning and eight in the evening, in any place of public resort. “It might, however, be worth testing in a court of law. “As to swearing, it is illegal, and should as far as possible be stopped at all places and times where and when those who object are forced to listen to it,” The West said. The library’s site says it was argued that if the river was to remain the chief attraction of the city, a new bathing facility was required. A Perth Bathing House Fund had been established with government support, and new baths, eventually built at a cost of £2600 and leased by the city council, were opened on March 5, 1898. The West Australian reported on March 7 that the facility was opened by mayor Alexander Forrest, who noted it was a matter of regret that they had not been built further out into the river. The baths were built mainly of jarrah, on piles driven about 2m below the level of the river. “The outside elevation is attractive, being after the Moorish style of architecture, and with its four towers, capped by cupolas, which adorn the centre and two extremities of the front elevation, it forms a pretty background to the Esplanade,” the paper said. The baths were approached from the Esplanade by a 60m-long jetty. The were two compartments in the baths, each measuring 26m by 45m, varying in depth from about half a metre deep to up to about 2m. “A sheet-piled partition separates these compartments, one of which is reserved for ladies, the greatest privacy being ensured,” the paper said There were 62 dressing rooms, and each compartment had three “shower baths” and latrines. But with concerns about mud and low water levels, the push went on for a new site. The State Library says the foot of Mt Eliza had always been a popular swimming spot, but a muddy river bottom was not the only problem. When, in 1911, the site was proposed as a possible area for a new baths building, “it was argued that visitors walking the terraces on Mt Eliza could look down on swimmers and those dressing”. After a time of debate about what would be the best option, new city baths on Mounts Bay Road at Crawley were opened on February 7, 1914. “Alone among the capitals of Australia, Perth, despite its peculiar natural advantages, could not hitherto boast the possession of public baths worthy of the name or in any sense answering to the needs of its people. “The old baths on the Esplanade front, never adequate to requirements, were moreover, placed in a position which, owing to the river silt and the natural drainage of the city, could not possibly have been more ill-chosen. “The bottom had only to be stirred to render the water dirty in the extreme and malodorous often beyond description.” While the new site was not universally seen as excellent, “it is, at any rate, immeasurably superior to that near the Narrows on which some people had set their hearts,” the paper said. The new site had a clean and even sandy bottom, and although “’the new baths are some distance further from the Town Hall than they would have been if erected at the Narrows,” they were “much nearer the populous and growing suburb of Subiaco.” In addition, a new tram service from the city was promised. “Perth, at any rate, has at last baths which . . . will be in all respects a credit to the metropolis,” The West said. Ed Jaggard, in the Historical Encyclopedia of Western Australia, wrote that river baths were also established at Peppermint Grove in 1898, Claremont in 1901, East Fremantle in 1900, Nedlands in 1909 and the Bicton Baths opened in 1926. Generations of West Australian children took to the river — often along jellyfish — and learnt to swim. The City Baths were removed in 1920. Crawley Baths were demolished in 1964, Claremont in 1972, and Nedlands Baths closed in 1975-76, although some of the structure remains. The Crawley Baths were commemorated in 2007 by the installation of “Eliza”, a 2.2m bronze sculpture by Perth artists Tony Jones and Ben Jones. Mounted on a steel pylon 15m off the shore, it depicts a woman about to dive off a wooden platform — a sight that is now passed by many thousands of residents as they drive on Mounts Bay Road to and from the city every day.