Island Stories
Kangaroo Island, located off the southern coast of Australia in South Australia, is a stunning natural haven celebrated for its rich biodiversity, pristine beaches, and unique culinary offerings.
Known as one of Australia’s premier wildlife destinations, it provides an escape into unspoiled landscapes teeming with flora and fauna. The island’s history is equally fascinating, as it has served as a sanctuary for Indigenous peoples and a critical point of discovery during early European explorations.
From its iconic attractions to its welcoming locals, Kangaroo Island embodies the essence of Australia’s untamed beauty.
This website delves into the island’s top attractions, exhilarating activities, and delectable food experiences, offering a comprehensive look at what makes Kangaroo Island a must-visit location.
Their journey spanned five long months at sea. Having left England during the promise of spring, they eventually disembarked in Port Adelaide in the midst of an Australian spring. The mosquitoes of Adelaide, infamous even then, greeted the weary travelers at what was colloquially known as Port Misery. Despite the challenges, the family of four found their way to the city and began to establish their new life. The timeline remains somewhat unclear, but the family initially settled in a house on Beulah Road, Norwood, before later moving to Yankalilla. It seems likely that migrants were allotted both a city block and some acreage in the countryside as part of their settlement.
At Yankalilla, the family flourished, growing to include three boys—Thomas Jr., Charles, and Martin—and a daughter, Lucy. Thomas Sr. left his mark on the fledgling township, building the Yankalilla Hotel and donating land for a council chamber. He played a pivotal role in shaping the settlement during his decade-long stay, but eventually, the call for more land stirred him again. With two sons now attending St. Peter’s College, which had opened in 1847, Thomas Sr. began exploring opportunities further afield, even considering properties in Western Australia and the Gawler Ranges.
By the early 1860s, the family had settled near Ballast Head on Kangaroo Island. What drew them there is unknown—perhaps the proximity to Adelaide by sea, which was more practical than navigating the mainland’s unmade roads. This period marked significant change at the eastern end of the island. The State Government had begun offering large pastoral leases, attracting settlers alongside ex-sealers like Nat Thomas and William Walker, who had already begun farming there.
By 1875, as government policies evolved, these leases were resumed, the land surveyed, and sections offered for sale. For the early settlers, including the ex-sealers, affording this land presented a challenge. Family lore suggests Thomas Sr. had brought £800 with him from England, and Martin reportedly caught and sold wallabies and possums to pay for his share of the freeholding—the portion of land that remains in the hands of his descendants to this day.
Leaving The Old Country
Leaving her homeland was no easy task for Ellen, Thomas’s wife. Over six months pregnant and likely anxious about the journey ahead, she stood on the deck as their ship sailed out of Plymouth Harbour. The couple had already endured the heartbreak of losing several infants—a tragically common occurrence in those days—and the idea of giving birth on board a ship was far from reassuring. Ellen’s sardonic comment about it being “an April fool’s errand” likely captured her apprehension. Yet, fate was kind, and Charles Danford Willson arrived safely near the Cape of Good Hope during the voyage. The captain of their vessel, Captain Danford, lent his name to the new addition to the family—a fitting tribute to their safe passage.
WILLSON RIVER RE-VISITED
Floating frothy shapes on water clear,
reflected gum trees, sky and light.
Still, distant pools give flight
to imagined grandeur in another sphere.
We’d fight to preserve such untouched land
in Tassie or the North East coast,
or any place where fashionable to boast
that we had seen and been impressed.
in another place we’d be moved to sing
the Magnificat
but here we say,
‘went down the creek today.
Bloody nice place, that’.
Bev Willson
The New Century
With the dawn of Federation, Kangaroo Island, like the rest of the country, experienced a wave of progress. Hog Bay, in particular, saw significant development, gaining both a hotel and a jetty.
Before the jetty’s construction in 1903, all small-scale shipping operations relied on Christmas Cove, locally known as The Basin. Larger vessels, unable to dock, anchored offshore while goods and passengers were ferried to and from the beach using bullock drays or rowboats.
For nearly a century, sealers had relied on The Basin as the safest and most efficient landing point, naturally establishing it as the commercial heart of this end of the island long before the jetty was built. However, the construction of the jetty shifted the hub of daily life. Within just a few years, new businesses and infrastructure emerged near the jetty, including a hotel, two shops, a guesthouse, and a police station. Hog Bay was transforming.
The crowning achievement of this new era was the SS Karatta, a steamer built in 1907 specifically for the Outer Harbour to Kangaroo Island route.
With its twice-weekly service to both Kingscote and Penneshaw, it revolutionized transport and trade, making the island more connected than ever before.
SS Karatta
The new century had begun, and with it, a new era of prosperity and change for Kangaroo Island.
L.E. Clark's
One of the key figures in Penneshaw’s development at this time was L. E. Clark. A true mover and shaker, Clark oversaw the construction of both the new shop and guesthouse. His influence extended beyond business—he also planted the Norfolk Pines along North Terrace and took the initiative to cultivate flower beds, adding charm to the growing township.
The Naming of Willson River
Perhaps here it is worth explaining how the river came to bear the name Willson. While modest in size, it earns the title of "river" thanks to the springs along its course that keep it flowing year-round. According to family lore, the renaming occurred sometime after 1875, during a chance encounter with a group of government officials.
These officials had disembarked at Antechamber Bay and, while exploring the land, became hopelessly lost with no idea how to find their way back to their ship. As the story goes, they were relieved to spot the light of a homestead in the distance. Welcomed in, they were offered a meal, a bed for the night, and later, a buggy ride back to their ship. Grateful for the hospitality, the officials asked how they might repay such kindness.
It was Thomas Jr.'s wife who reportedly suggested, “Re-name Hog Bay River as Willson River,” and the officials agreed, leaving the family with an enduring connection to the land.
A Legacy of Land and Enterprise
Old maps reveal the shifting ownership of land during this period. Thomas Jr. and Martin, affectionately nicknamed "Club-foot Mart," farmed adjacent plots near Hog Bay River—now known as Willson River. Martin’s descendants continue to farm this land, while Tom Jr.’s property has since become home to the False Cape Winery.
The third brother, Charles Danford—called “Beach Charlie” or simply "CD"—settled at American Beach. The family had acquired the pastoral lease for this land from William Walker, a sealer whom Thomas Sr. clearly respected. Walker had a reputation for bartering, trading grain for sheep with new settlers, and Thomas Sr. often conducted business with him. These exchanges reflect the cooperative spirit of those formative years on the island. In time, Thomas Sr. sold his Ballast Head property and purchased what became known as Lincoln Green, perched on the hill above Penneshaw. It was here that he spent his final years, passing away in 1901.
The Spirit of the Early Settlers
The journey from England to Kangaroo Island reflects the challenges and determination faced by many early settlers striving to build new lives in unfamiliar lands. The Willson family's story is woven into the broader history of the region, marked by the landscapes they cultivated and the communities they were part of.
The map included here illustrates how land ownership evolved over the years, offering a glimpse into the changes that shaped the area and the contributions of those who called it home.
WILLSON RIVER RE-VISITED
Floating frothy shapes on water clear,
reflected gum trees, sky and light.
Still, distant pools give flight
to imagined grandeur in another sphere.
We’d fight to preserve such untouched land
in Tassie or the North East coast,
or any place where fashionable to boast
that we had seen and been impressed.
in another place we’d be moved to sing
the Magnificat
but here we say,
‘went down the creek today.
Bloody nice place, that’.
Bev Willson
VENI, VIDI, BUT NEVER VICI
Why the historic urge to change the way things are?
To come, to see, to be impressed,
yet unable to suppress
the urge to conquer all?
It seems the same today as way back when
the whalers came in days of yore
when Baudin told of whales and more
seals than could be caught by men.
And so from Albany, they headed Eastto settle where no restraining hand of law
could mar their lives or flaw
their pursuit of peace and happiness.
And happily they lived for thirty years until,
having heard the tales of Island life,
the South Australia Company arrived in force
to change their life - a bitter pill
Still today new settlers come because they "love it so"
and yet the urge to change established ways
makes old timers now, as in those far off days
say soft and low "If you're not happy here, just go."
Chapman River
SOLDIER SETTLER WIVES
"My dearest Helen,"
"Do you honestly think you really can
live in a hut for a year or two,
before a home on your land is built for you?
A camp!! I'm sure the men will think it grand
but for women and children? I can't understand
how David can expect so much of you.
I've always thought him weak - and selfish too.
And how any Government can pretend to repay
mens' service to their country in this way
is beyond my ken, and that of your father.
Dearest Helen, wouldn't you rather
come home for a time, until Donald is older?"
My mother had no idea at all
that most of us were prepared to call
a tin shed, a hut or even a tent
our home if, at long last, it meant
that we were together with our men.
We had been apart for so long, and then
it was all fun, a challenge. Like camping out
and we were young enough to cope with doubts
about the future and the financial wisdom
of taking on lifestyles in a place few had lived in.
Looking back, I can see
what my mother meant when she said to me
"Darling, women are always the ones
to pay the price of their menfolk's fun."
That in camp life, women would be the ones to pay
a high price for the new life begun that day.
But she couldn't see that the sacrifices that we women make
are done willingly, and hardly take
any guts at all, though viewed from a loving mother's angle,
would seem monstrous, an imposition, a total bungle.
HOG BAY DREAMING
Tranquil township dreaming in October dusk,
what age old memories
do you hold in trust?
Does Sukey, sealer’s woman, join
the ghosts that wander on the beach?
Will Baudin come again to fill his casks,
and Flinders find the anchorage he seeks?
Are the Sawyers busy building,
the wharf we use today
Do phantom cows come down to water
at the windmill on the beach?
And children come to get the herd,
one cow, one child per family each?
Now all so different, all so new,
a haze of memory spreads upon the sea,
of changes from the past we
knew,hiding others, yet to be.
HOG BAY DREAMING
Tranquil township dreaming in October dusk,
what age old memories
do you hold in trust?
Does Sukey, sealer’s woman, join
the ghosts that wander on the beach?
Will Baudin come again to fill his casks,
and Flinders find the anchorage he seeks?
Are the Sawyers busy building,
the wharf we use today
Do phantom cows come down to water
at the windmill on the beach?
And children come to get the herd,
one cow, one child per family each?
Now all so different, all so new,
a haze of memory spreads upon the sea,
of changes from the past we
knew,hiding others, yet to be.
When to Give, When to Receive, and When to Stand Together
There is a time to give, like the ocean to the shore,
Pouring forth kindness, expecting
nothing more.
A whispered word, a steady hand, a light in someone’s night,
A gift that costs you nothing but makes the world more bright.
There is a time to receive, like the earth drinks the rain,
Let love fill your cup when you're weary from the strain.
To open up your hands, to welcome grace inside,
To know that strength is not just in what you provide.
And there is a time to stand together, like trees in a storm,
Rooted in connection, keeping each other warm.
For no one walks alone upon this winding road,
We rise when we uplift, we heal when we hold.
So give when your heart is full, receive when you are in need,
And stand together always—this is life’s sacred creed.
WILLSON RIVER REVISITED
Floating frothy shapes on water clear,
reflected gum trees, sky and light.
Still, distant pools give flight
to imagined grandeur in another sphere.
We'd fight to preserve such untouched land
in Tasmania or the North East Coast.
Or any place where fashionable to boast
that we had seen and been impressed.
In another place we'd be moved to sing
Dominum Magnificat,
but here we say,
"Went down the creek today ........
Bloody nice place, that."
ABORIGINAL WIVES
In exile, life has brought to me,
the pain of living in white man's ways.
A prisoner on this island and long the days
when to my own land at Cape Jervis, I yearn to flee,
across the inviting, treacherous sea.
Yet I must live my life as though
it were my choice that I should spend
my days in excile from my home, my tribe, my friends.
As if it were my choice to never know
the way my abandoned child would grow.
Yet in some strange way, love has bloomed again
with you my jailer, father of my new born babe.
How can I look back when I know I pave
the way for those who carry my strain?
However unwillingly at first I came.
TI TREES AT CHAPMAN RIVER
TI TREES AT CHAPMAN RIVER
Ti Trees …..tall, silent secretive
hide the river, hide the place
where ibis wade in glassy shallows.
And the world, as we see it,
seems created for picnickers and little boys
The river banks are grassed
as if permanently prepared
for some Vice Regal
BETSY
Bury me where the waters meet -
Twix the lagoon and the pulsing sea
The one is where I've lived these years
Born children , loved ones three.
The other from where the soft winds blow
with tribal memories ever sweet.
Bury me here where the waters meet
twix the lagoon and the pulsing sea.
In summer, when the soft Easterlies blow,
looking East towards my land,
in my imagination I see
my people -the hills, the sea, the sand
of Van Diemans land where I was born,
and salt tears are on my cheek.
I snare the native wallaby and roos,
using threads of canvas sails,
tend the fire and cooked the meals,
while the men keep watch for whales.
Often times a ship will call to trade for fur and skins
and there is then a new supply of sugar, flour and tins
of tobacco - even rum to ease our woes,
far from the countries of our birth.
As the years have drifted on, - the children almost grown
I ask myself the question, "which land do I now call "home"?
So bury me where the waters meet -
T wix the lagoon and the pulsing sea
The one is where I've lived these years
Born children , loved ones three
the other from where the soft winds blow
with tribal memories ever sweet
Bury me here where the waters meet
twix the lagoon and the pulsing sea.