Jackie (JH) Robinson: mining fields reporter

Jackie (JH) Robinson: mining fields reporter
22 November 2025 – 21 February 2026
Little Gallery

For 40 years John Henry (‘Jackie’) Robinson (1883–1953) framed Waratah and the West Coast from a tripod. Robinson and two of his brothers were highly skilled photographers. From 1913 Jackie was an outstanding amateur based in Waratah. However, he appears to have lent many of his plates to his brother Robert Vaudry (‘Bert’), hence their lodgement in the Robinson Photographic Collection at the Devonport Regional Gallery.

Jackie produced so many portraits in Waratah that semi-professional might be a better tag for him than amateur. He developed his plates at night when his job was done for the day. No golden wedding anniversary, vice-regal visit or patriotic demonstration escaped his shutter.

This exhibition is curated by Author and Historian, Nic Haygarth.

Jackie (JH) Robinson: mining fields reporter

By Nic Haygarth

During the first half of the twentieth century many Tasmanian country towns had at least one photographer who recorded their characters, social life and public events. The survival of their images in some cases seems to have been a case of luck rather than design. For example, the West Tamar Historical Society acquired a large number of glass plate negatives of the Beaconsfield region, probably by the photographer JH Reycraft. Someone offered a member of that society a box of very decrepit-looking glass plates—not to put in a museum, but with the suggestion that they be used to build a greenhouse. The presenter of the plates had no interest in their subject matter or perhaps was not even aware that the plates carried photographic images.

Happily, the Waratah photographer John Henry (JH or Jackie) Robinson (1883–1953) has fared much better than that, hundreds of his glass plate negatives having been preserved by his family and acquired by the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery. Others made their way into the Devonport Regional Gallery collection by an unusual route. Three Robinson brothers were photographers, Vaudry Robinson (1885–1961) in Launceston, Bert Robinson (1892–1953) in Devonport and Jackie Robinson in Waratah. The Devonport Regional Gallery holds the wonderful Bert Robinson Collection of negatives—but amongst them are at least 300 Jackie Robinsons, easily identifiable by their subject matter. It seems that Jackie lent these to his brother but died before they could be returned to him. The two brothers died seven months apart in 1953.

A similar number of Jackie Robinsons survive as postcards and prints in private collections. Many Waratah residents placed Robinson portraits and landscapes in their personal albums. Sometimes the only photos they had of forebears were very professional-looking Robinson portraits featuring what appears to have been his only studio backdrop, of sun streaming across a rickety garden fence. Some holders of these photos have no idea who shot them. The images have come to represent bygone days in Waratah and now belong to anyone who experienced those days. I guess it’s a compliment to the photographer when this sort of community ownership of images takes place. Perhaps the real test of amateur country photographers like Robinson is the number of family albums their work is preserved in.

Jackie Robinson photos could illustrate a primer on early-twentieth-century mining technology. His collection effectively contains a twentieth-century photographic history of the Mount Bischoff Mine and the West Coast osmiridium fields. Robinson was there when the Governor or the Premier visited Waratah. He was present when a Tasmanian mining frontier, Savage River, had big New York fountain pen manufacturers at its beck and call. He was involved when Hollywood came calling, acting as stills photographer for the movie Jewelled nights when it was shot on the Savage River osmiridium field.

But he was also there to capture ordinary people living ordinary lives. You get a real taste of the joys and hardships of a West Coast community. What you don’t get in a Spurling or a Beattie but you do get in a small-town amateur like Robinson is that everyday spontaneity, of the bread being delivered in a wheelbarrow because the van broke down, of the Emu Bay Railway locomotive half-submerged by snow, isolating the town, or of a children’s fancy-dress party. There are plenty of picnics in his photos, with lush rainforest settings, big fish that didn’t get away, weddings, returned soldiers, hockey teams, wood chops, World War One and World War Two victory celebrations, panoramas of crowds gathered for anniversary celebrations or for a masked ball at the Athenaeum Hall, Waratah’s community hub. Unfortunately often we can’t identify the people, and it’s quite confronting to look into the eyes of so many individuals in these very sharp, very detailed crowd shots and wonder about the inner life of each of them, who were they and what they did, all of them now anonymous.

The Jackie Robinson photos in the Devonport Regional Gallery cover many topics, including the life of the Robinson family in Waratah, Launceston and at the beach, a Gordon River cruise, as well as a version of probably his most famous image—Clem Penney displaying his dead thylacine at Waratah in 1924. The themes chosen for this exhibition are Waratah in the late 1920s, life on the Savage River mining fields, the opening up of Corinna as a recreational resort, the day the planes came down near Waratah in 1937 and a trip to the Holdfast Gold Tunnel on the Whyte River. As an employee of the Mount Bischoff Tin Mining Company, Jackie recorded all of these as time permitted. He kept water coursing in the Mount Bischoff flumes while training his lens on the flow of everyday life.

Nic Haygarth

WHEN THE DIGGINGS ARE DUG OUT

By the late 1920s Waratah was being divested of its mining credentials. The centrifugal dredge churning up the North Bischoff Valley represented the failed last hope of the mighty Mount Bischoff Tin Mine. The 40-Head Mill dropped its metronomic beat. In a case of back to the future, the steam tramway to the mine reverted to horse-drawn. Churches without a flock were cut up and trucked to new towns. Other abandoned buildings had a habit of burning down overnight. Symbols of decay were mixed with on-going rituals like the bush picnic, barrow racing, the Anzac Day march, winter snowfalls, swimming in the Bischoff Company dams and the annual Muddy Creek Picnic and Sports. Old diehard prospector William Aylett still bent unwary ears with tales of liquid gold oozing from a rock. Last drinks rang out at the Bischoff and Waratah Hotels. Shopkeepers Antonio and Bill Shady and draper Hart Kerrison plied their trades as before. Unofficial kiosk hostess Martha Robinson scooped ice creams during the interval at the movies. Her husband Jackie Robinson recorded the rhythms of a town slowly losing its reason for being.

ON THE ‘OSSIE’ AND OUT ON THE DRINK

Osmiridium mining was a saviour for Waratah when the Mount Bischoff Mine laid off workers. In the days before the advent of the ballpoint pen, this natural alloy of osmium and iridium was stamped onto the gold nibs of fountain pens to make them more durable. In the 1920s Jackie Robinson ventured out many times from Waratah to the osmiridium diggings at Nineteen Mile Creek and Savage River with packer Ray Whyman while he delivered stores. Bob Humphries and his sons were ensconced at Burnt Spur, where a tunnel diverted the Savage River. Their old paling hut arched its back as if recoiling from the myrtle stag towering over it. In the river below Charles ‘Chilly’ Evans worked the streambed by ‘paddocking’, that is, cordoning off part of the river and pumping out the water. As was often the case, Ray Whyman sat in on Jackie’s shot, his presence becoming almost a signature of Jackie’s bush photos. The magnificent myrtle forest clinging to the steep faces of the Savage gorge still lives in Jackie’s images. Only a rough track existed beyond the Savage River turnoff when in the 1930s a vehicular road was built to Corinna as unemployment relief. The road changed Waratah’s relationship with the Pieman River. The ghosts of Corinna’s gold-mining revelry and Huonpining exploits now hosted a new boating, fishing and sightseeing resort. Jackie immortalised Johnny Ahrberg, the gritty old Swedish ferryman at the Pieman heads.

TARANAKI’S GOLD

Gold never loses its allure. In the 1880s and 1890s ‘Taranaki’ McGrath, Jim McGinty and ‘Chummy’ Griffin unearthed large gold nuggets near the confluence of the Rocky and Whyte Rivers in western Tasmania. Later efforts to work the gold on a large scale failed. In 1931 a company was formed to harvest the gold and osmiridium in the bed of the ‘Great Bend’ of the Whyte. It drove a 120-metre-long tunnel to divert the water from the bend. One tunneller, Roy Hurd, was killed in 1932 when part of the roof collapsed. Jackie Robinson hitched a ride most of the way to the mine site, the car being driven through mud and ‘a tunnel of shrubbery’ to Browns Plain, where the mining company had a store. From there a pack-track wound its way down to a footbridge across the Whyte River. The diversion scheme was a failure, the company manager concluding that at the ‘Great Bend’ the river had shifted from its ancient gold-bearing course. They had missed the gold!

THE DAY THE PLANES CAME DOWN

In February 1937 two RAAF Hawker Demon bi-planes flying from Laverton, Victoria, to Hobart crash-landed in thick cloud while trying to find Wynyard Airport to refuel. Pilot Donald Ashton Shorter (with Flight Sergeant Arthur Slight) landed his Hawker Demon A1-3 safely on the main road near Waratah, but pilot Gerry Buscombe (with Flight Sergeant Bill Gould) brought Hawker Demon A1-8 down in thick bush at Jones Creek, about 10 km west of the town. No one was seriously injured but the latter crew was missing for two days. Jackie Robinson and Ray Whyman, the star of many Robinson photos, joined the A1-3 crew on the rescue party for the A1-8 airmen. The pressure on the young pilots to master the fragile machines was immense. Ashton Shorter had only three months to live when Jackie took these photos. The 23-year-old was killed in an aerobatic display at Townsville in May 1937. Remarkably, Gerry Buscombe survived to unveil the restored Hawker Demon A1-8 at the RAAF Museum at Point Cook, Victoria, in 1987. Ray Whyman secured the A1-3’s broken propellor blade for the Bischoff Hotel, Waratah, where it still hangs over a doorway today, a reminder of the day the planes came down.