We've all heard of the pub with no beer. The chorus of Slim Dusty's timeless 1957 international hit is ingrained in our national psyche.
But there's-a nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear
Than to stand in the bar of a pub with no beer
Slim's song was actually based on a poem penned in 1943 by sugarcane farmer and poet Dan Sheahan about a pub in north Queensland that a bunch of US servicemen drank dry en route to Port Moresby during World War II.
Thankfully, the lack of amber fluid was only brief, and the pub's cellar was restocked with beer just a couple of days later.
Now, if you are a thirsty sugarcane farmer, 48 hours without a cold beer may seem an eternity, but that pales into insignificance when compared to the length of time the Gundaroo Inn was unable to sell beer - 98 years. Yes, almost a century.
Although the inn opened in 1872 as the Commercial Hotel, in 1896, its license to serve beer was rescinded as its accommodation at the time didn't meet industry standards. Instead, the pub was forced to operate under a Colonial Wine License - one of only 14 pubs in NSW to do so.
So, how did patrons of a country pub cope without beer?
You'd think they'd struggle, but it seems the locals embraced the idea that their pub, which promptly changed its name to the Star Wine Saloon, was officially a pub with no beer.
To mark the 150th anniversary of the iconic watering hole, earlier this week I headed to the small village, just 30 minutes drive north of Canberra, to have a drink with some locals who, although beer has been flowing again since 1994 (more about that later), still refer to the pub as "the wine bar", or "Crowe's Wine bar" to be more precise, named after the family which owned it for over a century.
"Matt Crowe was born in the wine bar and took over when his mother died, running it with his wife Beat and daughter Kaye, until just prior to his death in 1997," reports Ron Miller who has been a regular at the bar since he arrived in Gundaroo in 1975.
While locals were quick to adapt to the drinks on offer, not all visitors were pleased with the beer-free beverage selection.
"As late as the 1980s I remember a bloke pulled up in a ute and dragged an esky full of beer inside," recalls Ron. "As he cracked open a tinny, everyone in the bar said 'bugger off' and demanded he take the esky outside as Matt could lose his license."
Charlie Pearmain, who's been knocking back near-nightly glasses of port at the bar for about a decade longer than Ron, remembers the day some thirsty shearers and roustabouts rocked up from a nearby property for some hard-earned beers.
"They were mortified they couldn't get beer and drove into Canberra to get some takeaways, but after a week or so, they got sick of the drive and learned to drink cider and wine," he laughs.
Charlie's wife, Lyn, remembers drinking lemonade in the wine bar as a kid. Her late father, Len White, was a fixture at the wine bar for almost 70 years. There's even a plaque with his framed photo on the wall above the stool where he used to sit.
"If he missed a day, he'd be annoyed," explains Lyn. "He'd come in with a pile of ten or so 50-cent coins, one for each drink, which he'd flick across the bar to Matt. When he'd flicked the last one, it was time to go home."
As with any country town's watering hole, the wine bar has had its fair share of colourful incidents, like the time a bloke came in wielding a gun.
"Everyone in the bar challenged him that his gun wasn't loaded, so he turned around and said 'Yes, it is' before firing a bullet into the ceiling," recalls Kevin Curtis, who along with his wife, Helen, have been regulars at the bar for "about 50 years".
While in its heyday of the '60s, '70s, and '80s the bar was only open six days a week, that didn't stop regulars from enjoying a Sunday refreshment.
"As late as the 1970s Matt still had black-out blinds from the war on the windows, and he'd keep them pulled fully down on Sundays so no one would notice if a few of us sneaked in," reveals Charlie.
"Sometimes the police did come, and we'd all scramble out through the back door," he muses.
In 1994, the owners of all the Colonial Wine Licences around the state successfully lobbied the government to be able to sell beer.
Ron lays claims to drinking the first beer in the bar for almost 100 years.
"Matt was dressed to the nines, like it was a wedding, and the whole family stood behind the bar waiting for crowds to flock through the door," reveals Ron, adding, "but hardly anyone came in - it was an anticlimax."
After 98 long years, it seemed that good folk of Gundaroo had well and truly finessed their wine palate.
Or in Slim's words.
Oh it's hard to believe that there's customers still
But the money's still tinkling in the old ancient till
The wine buffs are happy and I know they're sincere
When they say they don't care if the pub's got no beer
The Gundaroo Inn (which now has a range of great beers on tap) is celebrating its 150th Anniversary on September 17 from 1pm. Bookings essential via this link (when booking mention in the 'notes section' it's for the anniversary BBQ).
Celebrating 150 years of wine (and beer)
When current publican, head chef and jack of all trades 34-year-old city slicker Jarrod Lord arrived at the historic Gundaroo Inn six months ago, he admits he was "on a steep learning curve".
"There's a lot of history here to get across," says Jarrod. "Thankfully, most locals have been forthcoming in informing me of the inn's rich past.".
One of the quirks of the historic Colonial Wine License which was amended in 1994 to include sale of beer and spirits that the pub now operates under, is that children are allowed in the bar.
"Obviously common sense prevails on certain occasions, but generally that condition makes us a much more family-friendly place than some other pubs," reveals Jarrod.
The cross-generational appeal of the wine bar in the '70s and '80s is something Ron Miller remembers well. "There'd be three main layers of patrons; adults crammed in and chatting at the bar, half-sized kids sitting around drinking lemonade, and babies crawling on the sticky floor," he laughs.
With several subsequent renovations and expansions, the bar and beer garden can now hold many times more patrons, which is lucky because Jarrod is expecting a bumper turn-out next Saturday (September 17) for the 150th anniversary barbecue run in partnership with the Gundaroo & District Historical Society.
"We're hoping many people who've been to the wine bar over the years will come along and share their reminiscences," says Sue Burns of the historical society, who has also curated an exhibition of photographs and memorabilia that will be on show at the pub from September 14-18.
According to publican Jarrod, "the vast majority of alcohol sales at the pub are now beer", however, I'm confident that isn't going to stop regulars from the glory days of the wine bar celebrating the 150th with a glass or two of port, sherry or cider. In fact, they've probably already started.
WHERE IN CANBERRA?
Rating: Easy (so long as you aren't a Millennial)
Clue: Is that a 'pregnant' pencil pine?
How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and address to tym@iinet.net.au. The first correct email sent after 10am, Saturday September 10, wins a double pass to Dendy, the Home of Quality Cinema.
Last week: Congratulations to Peter Harris of Latham who was first to identify last week's photo as a Melbourne B Class tram, complete with destination 'GUNGAHLIN' displayed, parked on City Walk, between Petrie Plaza and Garema Place in Civic in 1992. Peter just beat an avalanche of other readers including Scott Simmons, June McKenzie, and Jeremy Wainwright to the prize.
The photo was submitted by John Davenport who explains the tram "was trucked to Canberra and was on display for a fortnight in February 1992 to help promote the concept of a line to Gungahlin".
Peter Harris was also quick to point out "the first tram in Canberra was actually set up as a static display at the Dickson Tradies Club in April 1979". Peter further adds "the first electric trams to run in Canberra were installed beside the Australian War Memorial in September 2001 to generate interest for the Federation Tram Line" to connect the National Museum of Australia through Civic, to the war memorial. The project was scrapped after the federal government refused to support it. According to John Davenport, "After some time in safe storage those two electric trams were moved to the Sydney Tram Museum at Loftus in Sydney."
SPOTTED
If you look closely, on the wash basins at Gundaroo Inn you'll see the outline of a sheep with a bird (crow) perched on its back. Hand-painted by Leanne Percival, they are a subtle nod to "Crowe's Wine Bar" which operated for over a century on the site. "Crows Baa" - get it?
CONTACT TIM: Email: tym@iinet.net.au or Twitter: @TimYowie or write c/- The Canberra Times, GPO Box 606, Civic, ACT, 2601
