Geoffrey Bede Goadby
A chance meeting at Mount Barney in the summer of 1949 arguably changed the course of rockclimbing in postwar Queensland. Geoff Goadby, then 24, was camped near Yellow Pinch on the recommendation of one of his fellow sailors, Bruce Mellor. Geoff had recently left the armed services and was wearing his polished black army-issue boots when he met up with 19-year-old Jon Stephenson. During their conversation, Geoff mentioned that he had recently abseiled down sea cliffs at Caloundra using a mainsheet from a yacht and was immediately invited to accompany Jon on an ascent of Leaning Peak. Jon had only just completed the first descent of the overhanging eastern cliff of Leaning with Derryck Firth, but with no knowledge of abseiling techniques, they had used prussik knots to lower themselves off! Two weeks after the fortuitous Mount Barney meeting, Jon and Geoff became the first to abseil off Leaning Peak, heralding an era of rockclimbing in Queensland that embraced the use of rope as a safety device.
Geoff’s knowledge of ropes came from sailing but he had read about climbing and saw the potential to apply his skills on the heights. Although the early, locally-made cotton rope was a far cry from today’s high-performance offerings, using it regularly to safeguard a climber was a marked departure from the anti-rope stance taken by Bert Salmon and his pre-war followers. Initially, manilla hemp rope was unavailable in Brisbane until Geoff — using his seafaring and diving knowledge — sourced some from a local factory, specifically manufacturing it for hard-hat divers. He tested it out with Raoul Mellish and Reg Ballard when they made the first ascent of the east face of Mount Warning that same year — 1949.
By 1950, Geoff had been enlisted to teach abseiling techniques to members of the newly-established University of Queensland Bushwalking Club (UQBWC) at Kangaroo Point cliffs. He and a small group of friends, including Alan Frost and Peter Barnes, later pioneered the first climbing routes there. The early training sessions didn’t always go according to plan as Geoff explained:
I was telling people what to do and I said to a bloke by the name of Byron Holloway (who was known as 'Chimp'): ‘You demonstrate.’ So he wrapped the rope around himself, walked over to the edge of the cliff and went CLUNK! That was quick…he had forgotten to tie it on! But there were a number of instances where a rope was a big help. Bertie Salmon reckoned it was unsporting to use artificial aids [like ropes] but I thought this was bloody ridiculous. He was an extremely competent climber himself but we couldn’t get him interested in the uni bushwalking club. We invited him once and he came along dressed up in a sports coat. He wasn’t interested. But he did subsequently change his view on ropes.
Geoff recalled that Jon Stephenson once climbed the Main Tower at the University of Queensland using a rope belay, unaware that his Geology supervisor, Professor Fred Whitehouse, was watching as he jumped for a handhold, stepping on one of the sandstone gargoyles that grace the face of the building. Later, rather than admonishing Jon for his antics, the professor was more interested in the difficulty of the climb!
Geoff’s interest in the outdoors had close links with the sea. In the late 1940s, he was invited to sail a 20 metre missionary boat to Papua New Guinea. During that time, he read about the caves at Chillagoe in North Queensland and became attracted by the idea of underground exploration.
I was using ropes because I was doing a bit of caving by myself — there was no one else doing it. I went to Texas, Rockhampton, Chillagoe three times. I was on my own at Rockhampton and you’ve got to be pretty careful in there on your own
His subterranean experiences sparked his interest in more land-based exploration and resulted in his chance meeting with the influential Jon Stephenson in 1949. Their friendship extended to Geoff participating in field trips to Mount Barney as Jon gathered data for his postgraduate research on the geology of the area. Geoff recalled that he carried the food in — and a pack filled with rocks out! They found that the Lands Department maps of the area were inaccurate with Jon discovering an unlisted mountain peak, promptly given the name of Mount Phillip — Jon’s first name — although he was always reluctant to publicise it.
Around the same time that the UQBWC formed — 1950 — a Brisbane Climbing Club also emerged from a mixture of university students, staff and ‘old school’ climbers like Bert Salmon and Fred Whitehouse. Geoff recalled the process:
We had a few meetings but usually, someone would ring up on Friday and say, ‘Let’s go somewhere.’ We used to go up onto the Glasshouses and set fireworks off on Guy Fawkes’ Night [5 November]. I invited a bunch of scuba divers up Beerwah once to let fireworks off but I had contacted the Forestry to let them know I was going to do it.
Eight months after it had formed, the Brisbane Climbing club collapsed when accusations that it had been infiltrated by ‘communists’ created deep divisions. It was a time of political conservatism and a fear of communism in the USA (McCarthyism) and here with the Prime Minister, Robert Menzies, enthusiastically supporting the ‘Reds under the beds’ shibboleth. Fortunately, the UQBWC continued with many of the same climbers joining forces again — the attraction of climbing overwhelming political disagreements. In photographs of the time, Geoff is easily recognisable by his distinctive ‘Robin Hood/pixie’ style hat.
In January 1953, Geoff was part of a six member UQBWC expedition to Hinchinbrook Island which included Jon Stephenson, John Comino, Dave Stewart, Ian McLeod and Geoff Broadbent. Despite being caught in a cyclone, they managed to make the first ascent of the Thumb, a granite monolith on the side of Mount Bowen. Geoff Goadby recalled:
It was just one of the things we did. Nothing spectacular. We knew we were the first to walk the full length of Hinchinbrook and Johnno [John Comino] would often go off without saying anything.
Later that year, Geoff joined what had become a tight knit group of friends — Jon Stephenson, Peter Barnes and Alan Frost — to climb the imposing south face of Beerwah. Alan Frost recalls his first meeting with Geoff on that day:
I came to Qld in 1953, a callow youth, to study Vet Science. I was ensconced at Kings College where Peter Barnes inhabited the next kennel. He introduced me to climbing, was thereafter my mentor; he soon introduced me to the Statesmen of Climbing in Brisbane. For this we went on his Triumph to Beerwah where we were to meet this Geoff. We found his car, but no sign of him: a bit of a search, then from the bushes leapt this strange figure, with a shout, a big smile, topped with his trade pixie/Robin Hood hat. Then Jon Stevenson arrived and we were off to climb the South face of Beerwah. A wonderful day, all new for me, somewhat overwhelmed by the company and their experience.
On 18 July, 1954, Geoff Goadby, 29, Jon Stephenson, 23, Peter Barnes, 25, and Alan Frost, 19, made the first ascent of Glennies Pulpit (then known variously as ‘Kilroy’s Moneybox’ or ‘The Pig’s Ding’) via today’s ‘Tourist Route’. It was a fitting farewell for Jon who left Australia soon after to complete his PhD research in London and to explore the world. Later that year, Geoff joined with John Comino, Alan Frost and Peter Barnes in guiding Italian Consul Felice Benuzzi up Leaning Peak. Peter Barnes’ photograph taken on the summit that day evokes the simplicity and the enchantment of the era. The inspiring trio of Geoff Goadby, Peter Barnes and Alan Frost dominated the achievements in climbing and scrambling in the early part of the 1950s, their energetic and speedy ascents of almost everything vertical in Southeast Queensland becoming legendary. Reading about their exploits was a major incentive for me — and I know, many others since — to try to follow in their footsteps.
Geoff Goadby not only pioneered the use of roped climbing in Queensland, but also forged the first locally-made pitons, cut out of mild steel. Typically, he recalled that he and his colleagues never went out with the intention of breaking records:
We did it because we enjoyed it. Good company. Walking led to climbing very often. Jon and I went to south or west Beerwah once. It hadn’t been climbed. It was a bloody hot day so we sat down beside a tree then we turned around and went home. If you can do that it’s a pretty reasonable attitude. We subsequently climbed it — the south face.
Geoff had a varied life that incorporated a wide range of experiences. After school, he began studying Science at university but left to work on a North Queensland cattle station. He returned to Brisbane and joined Norman Wright’s boat building yard with sailing soon becoming a major part of his life. He had significant success in blue water racing, being a member of the crew of the cruising yacht, Norseman, on four of the five occasions it won the Brisbane—Gladstone Yacht Race between 1951 and 1956. Geoff recalled that the owner-builder Lex Wilson had been racing for 50 years when he joined the crew. Over the next decade or so he worked in various occupations, including as a rigger on the TV aerials for the new TV stations being erected on Mount Coot-tha and with a small mining company, before moving to manage the newly-established laboratory at the University of Queensland Veterinary School Farm at Pinjarra Hills.
Throughout the early 1950s, he was involved in efforts by the UQBWC to build the first hut on Mount Barney after Jon Stephenson was benighted there in mid-winter with verglas covering the rock. But climbing was never far from Geoff’s agenda. Peter Barnes remembers his reaction when he heard about the fraught first ascent of Beerwah’s west chimney:
Alan Frost said it was the most frightening experience of his life so he reckoned it should be done properly and that the boys better go and give it another nudge. He and I and Geoff Goadby screamed up there one day and had a great time — [consults diary] 20 October ’56… Frost and [David] MacGibbon did it in August.
Alan Frost is the ‘youngster’ in that 1950s’ climbing cohort. At age 85, he’s still climbing and has made more than 100 ascents of Logan’s Ridge on Mount Barney, many of them solo. He acknowledges that it was Peter and Geoff who encouraged him to slow down and to look more closely at the world around him.
Geoff Goadby was a polymath — able to engage in authoritative conversation on almost any topic from the arts to the sciences — and his desire to explore the unknown remained a prime driving force throughout his life. He willingly shared his knowledge with others and always downplayed his own influential role, often with a quizzical smile.
Peter Barnes recalls his very first outing with Geoff Goadby — a climb up the east face of Mount Warning in November 1950. They had ridden to the base of the mountain on their motorcycles and were camped in a banana plantation, planning an early start. They had settled down for the evening in an old storage hut when Geoff suddenly appeared wearing a pair of pink pyjamas. And his response to the guffaws of his disbelieving comrades? ‘I like to be comfortable during the night.’
Geoff Goadby was the first person I interviewed in 1999 at the start of my research on Queensland climbing history that ultimately led to publication of the book, The Living Rock. At that first meeting and in all subsequent discussions, his enthusiasm, self-effacing humour and humility prevailed. It was inspiration for me to try to capture the essence of that moment in history when he and his peers had the world at their feet. They reached out and grabbed it, creating a pathway for all of us to follow. Geoff Goadby is remembered for his camaraderie, the passion he had for invention and exploration, and his willingness to share this knowledge with others. He is survived by his wife, Merle.
Michael Meadows
Thanks to Peter Barnes and Alan Frost
