Sydney Metro catchment Sydney Metro catchment The Sydney Metro Catchment occupies an area of approximately 1,860 square kilometres, extending offshore to include state waters to the three nautical mile limit. The Sydney Metropolitan catchment area is made up of eight sub-catchments: Hacking River Northern Beaches (up to Narrabeen) The catchment includes nationally significant wetlands and RAMSAR sites. Estuarine Habitat Maps There is now a complete coverage for the 154 NSW estuaries which contain one or more of the important estuarine habitats such as seagrass, mangrove and saltmarsh. These maps will provide coastal Local Land Services and Local, State and Australian Governments with information to support natural resource condition targets and to monitor the effectiveness of management actions against those targets. Find out more about Key Fish Habitat mapping. Fish passage There are barriers to fish passage throughout this region. Reports are available that detail the extent and severity of weirs as barriers and of urban road crossings as barriers (see below).

Turella Weir fishway, Wolli Creek The creation of a rock ramp fishway on Turella Weir at Wolli Creek means fish can now access several kilometres of upstream habitat: an important improvement in this inner Sydney area. Wolli Creek is a tributary of the Cooks River, which flows through Sydney into Botany Bay. The weir and causeway were built in the early 1900s to provide access and water for adjacent Chinese market gardens. Turella Reserve and Wolli Creek Regional Park have now replaced the old market gardens, meaning the weir no longer serves its original purpose but still prevents fish from moving up- and downstream for most of the time. This project is part of the former Sydney Metropolitan Catchment Management Authority's (now Local Land Services) 'Cooks River Urban Water Initiative' which is rehabilitating the Wolli Creek environment by controlling weeds, replanting these areas with native plants and cleaning up stormwater before it flows into the creek. Industry and Investment NSW (Fisheries), Rockdale and Canterbury City Councils partnered the former Sydney Metropolitan CMA to undertake the fishway works and were supported by the Wolli Creek Preservation Society.

Watch fish using the fishway at Wolli Creek (video made by Gaven Gatenby of the Wolli Creek Preservation Society) Tallowa High Fishway Project – former Sydney Catchment Authority The former Sydney Catchment Authority Board (now Local Land Services) has provided funding for the Tallowa High Fishway Project. This will see the construction of a fishway at Tallowa Dam on the Shoalhaven River. The high fishway design will be the first of its kind in Australia and will include the incorporation of a multi-level off-take to reduce thermal pollution downstream. Fish habitat: Case Studies Distribution of estuarine vegetation Two studies have looked at the distribution of estuarine vegetation. Saltmarsh, mangrove and seagrass are known to provide important vegetated habitats for many species of fish and invertebrates, some of which are of commercial and/or recreational importance. The distribution of these plants in various New South Wales estuaries are reported to have changed over time. One place where change has been reported is the Parramatta River and its downstream extension, Sydney Harbour.

There would appear to have been a large net loss of seagrass from 129 ha to 52 ha, with large losses at some locations (Clontarf) and small gains at others (e.g., Iron Cove). In contrast, the area of mangrove has increased from 148 ha to 185 ha. Area of saltmarsh appears to have been steady at less than 10 ha. The results show that seagrass has been lost to a large degree and is presumably susceptible to further loss. This situation needs to be immediately addressed due to the importance of seagrass as a fish habitat. The increase in amount of mangrove is also of concern as it confirms studies done elsewhere in the Parramatta River that show an expansion of mangrove that parallels human settlement and use of the river. West, G., Williams, R.J. and Laird, R., 2004. Distribution of estuarine vegetation in the Parramatta River and Sydney Harbour, 2000. Final Report to NSW Maritime and the Australian Maritime Safety Authority. NSW Department of Primary Industries - Fisheries Final Report Series No. 70. 37pp.

ISSN 1449-9967. Focusing management needs of the sub-catchment level via assessments of change in the cover of estuarine vegetation, Port Hacking, NSW, Australia Seagrass, mangrove and saltmarsh are important habitats and the need to protect them is well recognised. Seagrass is a prime estuarine habitat for commercial and recreational species, but relative to sand, mud and reef, the portion of the floor of estuaries it covers is very small. Monitoring change in its distribution is of fundamental importance, as is differentiating between the natural and/or human-causes of change, and applying appropriate management responses. Photos of Port Hacking at intervals from 1930 to 1999 were examined to assess long term changes in cover of seagrass, mangrove and saltmarsh. During the middle of the century the cover of seagrass was stable at around 180 ha before declining to a minimum of 66 ha in 1977 and then increasing to 82 ha in 1999.

The area of mangrove increased steadily, from 15 ha to 33 ha, while the area of saltmarsh progressively declined from 14 ha to 9 ha. The most dramatic changes took place at Cabbage Tree Basin and the Hacking River, where large reductions in area of seagrass, and substantial increase in mangrove, were observed. Bait gatherers and/or storms may have damaged seagrass at the mouth of Gunnamatta Bay. In 1965 NSW Fisheries closed the whole of the bay to digging, but given the slow growth of seagrass, recovery may have been impeded by the large storms of May 1974 and June 1975. Other cultural factors, such as shellgrit mining, dredging and reclamation, have also had an influence on the distribution of macrophytes in Port Hacking. Urban development of the catchment increases the products of erosion and well as stormwater discharge. Sediments create new substrate for mangrove while stormwater increases turbidity and reduces the amount of light falling on seagrass. Some loss of saltmarsh has been caused by upslope expansion of mangrove.

Provided conservation guidelines of NSW Fisheries are adhered to, the recovery of seagrass should continue. We should attempt to re-establish saltmarsh at sites from which it disappeared. It is likely the cover of mangrove will continue to increase, potentially posing the issue of whether to remove it in certain circumstances. Monitoring of vegetation cover in estuaries is an ongoing management need. Williams, R.J and Meehan, A.J., 2004. Focusing management needs of the sub-catchment level via assessments of change in the cover of estuarine vegetation, Port Hacking, NSW, Australia. Wetlands Ecology and Management. 12: 499-518. Transport Transport Transport Garry Wotherspoon We got into Port Jackson early in the afternoon, and had the satisfaction of finding the finest harbour in the world, in which a thousand sail of the line may ride in the most perfect security…The different coves were examined with all possible expedition. I fixed on the one that had the best spring of water, and in which the ships can anchor so close to the shore that at a very small expence [sic] quays may be made at which the largest ships may unload.

This cove… I honoured with the name of Sydney. [1] So wrote Governor Phillip, in his first despatch from the colony to the Home Secretary, Lord Sydney. But while the harbour certainly was and still is a thing of beauty to behold, it became an obstacle to be overcome in the development of a transport system to serve the settlement spreading out from that little cove on the southern shore of Port Jackson. The harbour initially provided an easy means of access around the new settlement as it expanded up the Parramatta River and to the many inlets of Port Jackson, but its waters eventually became a barrier to the movement of goods and people back and forth. The compromises that created Sydney's transport network had to take into account the restrictions of physical geography, the changing economic and social needs of the population, the limitations of technology, ideas about funding and ownership, and political feasibility or expediency. Sydney's geography Sydney's physical geography – its topography, waterways, vegetation and areas of agricultural productivity – had to be negotiated as the settlement expanded.

Much of Sydney lies on the Cumberland Plain, a flat or gently undulating region through which two major rivers flow: the Parramatta, emptying into Port Jackson, and the Georges, emptying into Botany Bay. A number of smaller rivers and creeks flow west and north into the Nepean-Hawkesbury river system, which sweeps from the south near Bulli Point in a broad semicircle to Broken Bay in the north. In the centre was the original settlement at Sydney Cove. The plain is surrounded by higher land. To the north is the Hornsby Plateau, a series of gorges and ridges rising in parts to almost 300 metres. To the south is the Woronora Plateau, a similar landscape of gorges and ridges rising as high as 440 metres. To the west lies the Blue Mountains, the Great Divide which for a quarter of a century prevented the first settlers from reaching the broad slopes beyond. Today the city of Sydney has spread from the plain into the higher ground beyond, in the north, south and west. Port Jackson, Sydney's harbour, has rugged and hilly foreshores, particularly on the northern side.

The first white settlers chose the flatter areas to the south, at Sydney Cove and Farm Cove, as the site for their township. For many years the population of this minor convict outpost was small and concentrated, and there was little need for a passenger transport system. Since it was also a gaol, there was little encouragement for the population to spread out over a wide geographical area. Sydney was a walking city, as were most towns and small cities of the period. Its situation on the shores of Port Jackson, however, made water transport of some significance. Human-powered transport The transport of goods was an early problem. Little thought had been given to the logistics of establishing the colony's economy and infrastructure, and there was a shortage of draught animals for land haulage. In 1791, the local livestock – two stallions, six mares and two colts, and a small number of cattle – was far too precious to risk as beasts of burden. The obvious solution in a convict colony was human labour. Our earliest land transport system consisted of convicts dragging loads of stores and provisions, hauling stone, and loading and unloading ships.

Since convicts were occasionally denied access to government stores, they hired themselves out as carriers or hauliers to earn money for food. One of the earliest kinds of paid labour to emerge in the colony was the transport of goods. Water transport Water transport remained of paramount importance. The harbour and its nearby river systems became an early scene of' activity, with private enterprise taking the initiative, often in the face of constraints imposed by government and scarce resources. Government control of transport is a recurring factor through to the present day. But competition between publicly and privately owned transport also began to emerge. The land on the harbour shores was not particularly arable, and so attempts were made to grow food supplies further afield. Small pockets of settlement developed at Parramatta and Windsor, and further out along the reaches of the Nepean-Hawkesbury river system. Water transport was the best way to move produce from these areas to the growing township of Sydney, using the harbour and the Parramatta, Hawkesbury, Lane Cove and Nepean rivers. Soon a flourishing trade was established. Even in those days Sydneysiders complained about the inadequacy of their transport system.

The boat trip from Sydney to Parramatta often took up to 12 hours, instead of the scheduled four or five, and, in at least one recorded instance, took just under 14 hours. The deepwater harbour of Port Jackson meant that Sydney soon became the major seaport of the south-west Pacific region. As the colony grew and population spread north, west and south, coastal shipping developed, supplying the city with food and raw materials for its various industries and enabling transshipment to the outside world. The early shipping industry was a foundation for Sydney's future maritime activities, with important linkage effects to wharfage, chandlery, and associated industries. Land transport While water transport developed rapidly in the early days, land transport lagged, due to lack of mass demand and the undeveloped state of land transport technology. Industrialisation brought a switch from animate to inanimate sources of power, and from organic to inorganic (fossil) fuels, but the effect of this on land transport was slow. Over most of recorded history, the heavy hauling work had been done by animals – horses, donkeys, mules, oxen, bullocks. Sydney's land transport did not really change until the coming of railways.

The barriers of terrain and distance had been progressively, if slowly, overcome, before the railway arrived. In 1814, a 'common stage cart' service was introduced between Sydney and Richmond, carrying both goods and passengers. An English stagecoach was imported in 1819 and introduced to the Sydney-to-Parramatta run in 1821. This service also carried the Royal mail. The combination of English-style coaches and Sydney's road surfaces, however, proved disastrous, and it was not uncommon for these coaches to break down or come apart, with unfortunate consequences for the passengers. Locally built wagons and carriages were far more common than imported vehicles. Vehicles for hire seem to have appeared fairly early in the colony. As in England, some of the earliest 'for hire' vehicles were the cast-off carriages of the wealthy. They were commonly known as 'growlers' because of the noise made by their ungreased axles as they travelled over the city streets. As these growlers gradually fell apart from overuse, misuse or neglect, they were replaced by vehicles specifically designed for the hire trade. Road transport, despite the use of many second-hand vehicles, was not cheap, and it was very slow.

In 1841 the mail cart took six days to make the round trip from Sydney to Bathurst and back. The fare each way was £4/10/- per passenger, at a time when a skilled labourer's wage was around five shillings a week. Even by 1857, road transport was still slow and expensive. Heavy goods took, on average, 23 days to get from Sydney to Bathurst, and cost £15/10/- per ton. Bad roads meant that horses were not the best draught animals. Bullocks were far better for haulage, particularly outside the city, but the cost of drays was high – anything from £12 to £30 during the 1840s. On the eve of the gold rushes, in 1850, Sydney's transport was still very basic. The gold rushes created huge influx of population, starting the transformation of Sydney from a walking city to a public transport city.

Metropolitan Sydney's population rose from almost 54,000 in 1851 to 96,000 in 1861, and to 383,000 by 1891. Its proportion of total New South Wales's population also rose, from 28 per cent in 1851 to 34 per cent in 1891. It is not surprising that such growth in urban population was accompanied by transport innovations. The arrival of rail The first innovation was the railway. Plans were advanced in 1848 to link Sydney (particularly its port facilities) with Parramatta in the west, and with Liverpool, and ultimately Goulburn, in the south. This private project collapsed and the government took over, establishing in Australia a tradition of government ownership and control of the railways. Though railways were aimed initially at moving goods from the productive hinterland to the port, they affected the geographical pattern of Sydney's development, particularly its suburban spread, and served as an instrument for redistributing the city's population. At first, ribbons of suburbs grew along the railway, speeded up by the wholesale opening of large estates along the lines.

Population movements and rail expansion correlate closely in this period. The first Sydney-to-Parramatta line was opened in 1855, followed by extensions from Granville to Liverpool in 1856 and to Campbelltown in 1858; extensions from Parramatta to Blacktown in 1860, to Rooty Hill in 1861 and to Penrith in 1862; and from Blacktown to Richmond in 1864. Sydney's suburbs grew around this rail skeleton. Horse-drawn transport Sydney's first successful attempt at an urban transport system was undertaken at the same time, with the opening of the Pitt Street horse-car tramway in December 1861. It ran from Circular Quay along Pitt Street to the old Redfern railway station (where the Devonshire Street tunnel now stands), passing through the main business district of Sydney. The line consisted of a single track, one mile 63 chains (2.87 kilometres) long, and, as so often with Sydney's transport, a grave mistake was made. The line was also intended to move goods traffic in railway trucks, but the rails imported from England were unsuitable.

The solution was to reverse the rails and leave part of them protruding above the road surface, so that the longer flanges on the rail car wheels could travel easily over them. Naturally these protruding tracks created problems for any wheeled vehicles moving along Pitt Street and eventually, after continuous complaints, a parliamentary committee recommended the closure of the line, which took place on 31 December 1866. The horse-car tramway service was immediately replaced by a privately owned horse-drawn omnibus service, which remained Sydney's major form of urban transport until the early 1890s.This system reached its peak in 1889, providing Sydney with an extensive, if somewhat slow, land transport network. No figures are available on passenger numbers. Horses also continued to provide the main motive power for transport of goods within the city. Wagons and carts were the major carriers of books, food, clothing, newspapers, building materials, haberdashery, furniture and other items. This period also saw a great increase in both the numbers of private passenger vehicles and of cabs.

New American technology in coach-building led to rapid growth in production of hansom cabs, buckboard buggies, landaus, broughams, phaetons and Victorias. The middle class of Sydney invested heavily in their own vehicles, and driving in Sydney streets could be as hazardous then as it is today. Sydney's ferries Until the late 1880s, Sydney's population remained well served by water transport. There was a large network of ferry services covering inner suburbs, such as Balmain, Glebe and North Sydney, and the more distant outer areas, such as Manly and Watsons Bay. The Manly ferry, probably Sydney's most famous ferry service, experienced a continuous rise in patronage from the early days of the suburb's development until the opening of the Harbour Bridge in 1932 when competition from government bus services led to a decline. Initially private enterprise took the lead, and by the later decades of the nineteenth century the ferry system was run by large-scale private companies, operating services to all corners of the harbour. It was a well-patronised service before the advent of the trams.

By 1896 it is estimated that ferry services provided some 25 million passenger journeys and trams provided almost 65 million passenger journeys each year. Sydney's trams The trams were seen as the great answer to the problem of moving passengers cheaply and rapidly within the city. Here we see another of the important themes in Sydney's transport history – the impact of new technologies. In the quarter century before World War I, tramway systems mushroomed in virtually every major city in the world. Although the first trams were powered by horse, steam or cable, massive growth followed the introduction of electrification, which provided a constant and relatively cheap and clean source of power. Sydney's first mass public transport network was established at this time. Tramways played a critical role in opening up Sydney's suburbs. Sydney's population was expanding and filling in the areas between the ribbon developments that had taken place along the existing rail network Despite these developments, at the turn of the nineteenth century Sydney remained essentially a 'walking city'. The following table indicates how Sydneysiders got to work in 1901.

The journey to work in Sydney – 1901 Main mode of travel Total 100 Source: Ian Manning, 'The journey to work in Sydney', in G. Wotherspoon (ed), Sydney's Transport: Studies in Urban History, Hale & Iremonger, Sydney, 1983, p 191 Over the following decade, more than half the population switched to the developing public transport network – trains, trams, omnibuses and ferries. By the start of World War I, Sydney had been transformed from a 'walking city' into a public transport city. Electrification The transport network kept up with the expansion of Sydney's population and area mainly through the modernisation, via electrification, of the tram network. It was not an easy transition. Apart from the cost of track-laying and new rolling stock, and the time required to train staff, the major problem was power supply for the expanding network. In 1909 additional power-supply facilities were constructed, permitting the use of more and bigger cars and the laying of new lines.

Although new lines continued to be laid for the next 20 years, those built after World War I were relatively minor extensions and branches of existing lines. Sydney's tramway network reached its greatest extent in 1922. Technological developments were uneven, however. Horses still dominated goods transport in and around the city, though the trams were electrified. Electrification was also planned for the railways. The main proponent of electrifying the city and suburban railway was Dr JJC Bradfield, an important name in the history of Sydney's transport. From before World War I, Bradfield submitted various plans for improving Sydney's railway network. He identified some of Sydney's major transport problems: the need to extend the railway into the city; the need to connect Sydney with North Sydney by either bridging or tunnelling under the harbour, and the 'need' for an eastern suburbs railway. These issues were to be taken up time and again. Modernisation and extension There had often been talk of extending the railway network further into the city beyond its old terminus at Redfern. The first plans appear to be those of railway engineer-in-chief John Whitton in 1857.

Goods and passenger traffic was greatly inconvenienced by the railway terminating at the southern end of the city, some two miles (3.2 kilometres) distant from Circular Quay. Goods going to overseas markets had to be unloaded at the rail terminus and loaded onto some other form of transport, repeating the whole process at the wharves. A branch line for goods had been built in 1855, connecting the main rail network with Darling Harbour, but Darling Harbour was subject to silting and was also away from the main business district, so it was of little use for goods bound for the city. The growing commuter traffic had similar problems. Even after the opening of the new terminus at Central Station in 1906, workers still had to switch to another form of transport – horse-drawn buses or cabs, or electric trams – to get to work in the business district. An unusual combination of interests – Sydney merchants, city real estate developers and blue-collar residents of the expanding western suburbs – united to press for an extension of the rail network into the city and down to the Quay.

This agitation had arisen as far back as 1868 and had grown steadily during the 1870s and 1880s, as population continued to expand in the west and exports of rural products continued to grow. For many years the issue was successfully stalled by a similarly strange alliance of interests – the expanding population of the eastern suburbs who wanted a railway into their area, and country interests (operating as a pressure group through their members of parliament) who were against any city railway extensions. Colonial government railway funds went towards expansion of country lines rather than the much-called-for city railway extensions. And there were further complications: over the years there had been commercial wharf development of other bays on the south side of the harbour (Walsh Bay, for example) and the Quay was no longer seen to be the obvious destination of any further goods lines. Building bridges Plans for bridge-building in and around the city were also given low priority. In the nineteenth century, various isolated residential developments occurred along the shores of the harbour – for example on Glebe Island, Hunters Hill, and around North Sydney. Industrial developments were built around the harbour, at Mort's Dock in Balmain, and on Glebe Island.

All these developments created a need for bridges. Various plans for bridging the harbour had been suggested, beginning in Governor Macquarie's time. Francis Greenway had drawn up a plan as early as 1815, but little action had been taken. In 1857, a private company, the Pyrmont Bridge Company, bridged Darling Harbour and Blackwattle Bay, and charged a very unpopular toll. The necessity for access to the newly opened Glebe Island abattoirs led the colonial government to construct a bridge from Pyrmont to Glebe Island in 1862. Further population growth in the west, and the need to bring market produce from the Ryde area to the population of the south side, led to demands for additional bridges over the Parramatta and Lane Cove rivers. The construction of the Iron Cove, Fig Tree and Lane Cove bridges was authorised in the late 1870s. Serious demands for a bridge across the harbour also arose in the late 1870s, and by the first decade of the twentieth century there was a welter of conflicting plans.

In 1911 three schemes were under consideration: the plans of the Sydney Harbour Bridge Advisory Board; the plans of the Royal Commission on Communication between Sydney and North Sydney, and the plans of the Royal Commission into the Improvement of Sydney and its Suburbs. Further confusion was added when a public works committee reported unfavourably on safety aspects of both the proposed under-harbour tunnels and the pier-supported bridge. Instead, it recommended a 'steel cantilever bridge' as proposed by JJC Bradfield, then an engineer with the New South Wales Public Works Department. Modern railways and the Harbour Bridge The government, however, chose to take no action. In a time-honoured tradition, it called in an outside expert to give his views. David Hay, a London transport expert, proposed a two-track rail loop around the city, above ground from Central to Goulburn Street, then underground to George Street and the Town Hall, and to Wynyard Park. Here the line would divide into two, one branch to go on to North Sydney (by bridge or tunnel), the other to continue underground to Circular Quay, back through the Botanic Gardens and Pitt Street to Central. And still the plans arrived.

In 1915 JJC Bradfield, now engineer in charge of a newly created section of the Public Works Department, submitted a report which recommended an underground city railway with possible extensions to the northern and eastern suburbs, a harbour bridge, and electrification of all city and suburban rail lines. Bradfield's plan was accepted, and in 1917 work was begun on the city railway section of the plan. The electrification of the city and suburban rail network also got underway. Given the state's reserves of coal, it seemed eminently sensible. Electricity seemed then a clean form of energy, far cleaner than either coal-burning steam trains or diesel-fuelled motor trains. It allowed faster trips (because of more rapid acceleration), and it was also claimed to aid rapid braking, thus improving safety. The electrification of the Illawarra line was completed in March 1926, and that of the Canterbury lines six months later. Further electrification was completed in subsequent years: the North Shore line in 1928, and the Sydney to Parramatta, Granville to Liverpool, Lidcombe to Cabramatta, and Strathfield to Hornsby sections in the following year.

The underground city loop and Eastern Suburbs line The construction of the city underground and its network of stations had a major impact on retailing in the city. Before 1920, Central Station had fostered a thriving commercial and retailing area at the southern end of the city. The construction of the city loop stations from the late 1920s was detrimental to many businesses in this area – some stores were forced to close, and others entered a period of decline. On the other hand, stores like David Jones, at St James Station, enjoyed increasing business. Meanwhile the city rail loop remained uncompleted, and there was continued agitation throughout the 1930s to complete it, construct Circular Quay Station, and extend the rail network to the eastern suburbs. These projects, however, had to wait until after World War II. The proposed eastern suburbs railway, either connected somehow with a city railway or branching direct from Central, also had a long history of plans and proposals predating any action. The first plans to receive parliamentary approval were lost in a financial appropriations vote in 1879, but new schemes appeared continually.

Despite pressure from local residents and real-estate developers, the eastern suburbs railway was a low priority, particularly after the expansion of the tramway network into the area. But the 'country interest', a group of politicians representing rural landholders and their commercial allies, forced the rejection of bills allocating funds for city and suburban railways until well into the twentieth century: this helps explain why the eastern suburbs railway project took so long to come to fruition, and remained such an ongoing political issue, until it was finally opened, in June 1979. The arrival of the motor vehicle In the interwar period, a dramatic change stemmed from a new technology – the petrol-driven internal combustion engine. With the development in the late nineteenth century of motorised vehicles powered by the new engine, a new phase of land transport began – one that was to have repercussions not only on goods and passenger transport but also on the economic structure of society. Motor transport became important in the 1920s, and has been the dominant factor in creating the transport system as it exists in Sydney. In the late nineteenth century, when a motorised horseless buggy at last seemed a possibility, alternative forms of motive power might have been developed – for example, steam or electricity.

In the event, partly because oil was cheap and readily available in the United States, industrial societies opted for the petrol-driven motor, which brought with it unforeseen results. These include the dependence of many societies on oil; the growth of the massive petrochemical industry; and the growth in the economic system of an enormous infrastructure for the motor car. Apart from the car manufacturers, there are petrol companies, car parts producers, tyre manufacturers, government instrumentalities (such as the RTA and Sydney Buses), and powerful lobbies such as the NRMA. None of this was foreshadowed when the motor vehicle first appeared in Sydney. The average Sydneysider took enthusiastically to the new form of transport, despite the Cassandra-like prophesies of doom and damage to the social fabric proclaimed by society's moralisers. The authorities came to terms with it far more reluctantly. Gradually, laws and regulations were altered, traffic controls implemented and new supervisory bodies created. For public passenger transport, motor buses were soon seen as a far more flexible form of transport than fixed-track trams, and made a significant impact. By 1929, 612 private buses were carrying 90 million passengers annually.

Sydney's trams, once part of one of the largest and most efficient tram networks in the world, were gradually superseded by the revitalised railway network, and then replaced completely by buses. The motor vehicle had an impact in other forms of transport as well. Goods delivery in the city rapidly switched over to the new technology, as the following figures indicate: Commercial vans in Sydney 2016 Source: NSW Year Book, 1927/28, p 116 Motor vans had advantages over horse-drawn vehicles, particularly in speed and certainty of delivery of goods, and businesses moved to them quickly. But there were costs. Better quality roads were required for the new vehicles. With the establishment of the Department of Main Roads in 1925, an intensive and expensive programme of road upgrading was undertaken. Traffic congestion in the city increased immediately, and traffic control and road safety were two additional areas where the new vehicles were seen as less than beneficial. Public transport in decline In the immediate postwar years Sydney's transport system experienced a series of rapid, dramatic and far-reaching changes, with most impact on public passenger transport, especially ferries and trams.

The tramway system was in its last years and forces were already in operation that would lead to its closure in just over a decade. Ferry travel (which had revived somewhat during the war years, from 28 million passengers in 1939 to 37 million in 1945) entered a period of decline which saw its patronage fall to a low of 11 million in 1963 (although it has since risen slightly). Part of the cause was the growing acceptance of the motor car. The future was seen as belonging to the motor vehicle: motor buses would soon be the major form of public transport serving the city and suburbs. At the same time, private motor cars were owned by more and more people. The motor car, more than any other single factor, has determined the pattern of Sydney's urban development since World War II. The introduction of the motor lorry in the 1920s had changed the location of industry, which had once needed to be near the railway or waterways. Buses too, with their greater flexibility, had further hastened the process of suburbanisation.

Decentralisation of industry in the postwar years led to a shift in the location of employment, and further population expansion in the development of Sydney's 'fringe suburbs', posed problems for Sydney's CBD-centred transport system. In the early 1960s trips undertaken daily by private motor cars surpassed trips taken on public transport. In 1946-7, only 13 per cent of all trips in Sydney were by private car; by 1960 the figure had risen to 50 per cent, and by 1971 the proportion exceeded 70 per cent. This rapid increase was disastrous for the public transport system as commuters deserted in droves for the advantages of their own personal transport. This trend was facilitated by the expansion of hire-purchase facilities – while 'mass production cheapened the relative price of cars and brought them in range of rising working-class incomes, the growth of hire purchase solemnized the marriage'. [2] City of cars A car became a necessity for those wishing to live in one suburb and work in another not easily accessible by public transport. Widespread car ownership furthered the spread of suburbia, as people were freed from the limitations of the public transport system.

Patterns of residence, leisure and employment were all affected. The car has now become the major mode for travelling to and from work in Sydney. The use of buses and the massive growth in the road-freight haulage industry also form part of the motor vehicle's impact on the pattern of Sydney's transport. In the twenty-first century, where do Sydneysiders stand (as they usually have to, if they travel on overcrowded buses or trains in peak hours) in relation to their transport? The following table indicates the changes that have occurred in the journey to work for Sydneysiders over the past century: The journey to work in Sydney – 2001 Main mode of travel TOTAL 100.0 Source: Prepared for the Dictionary of Sydney, by Phil Raskall, Research Manager, City of Sydney Council, 2007 But there are positives. An orbital road system now circles the city, removing the necessity for road traffic to travel through the city to get across it. But at peak hours, roads within the CBD are gridlocked. As New South Wales's one-time Sustainability Commissioner, Peter Newman, noted, $10 billion has been spent over the past decade on tollways and tunnels.

A road lane can carry only about 2,500 people per hour, light rail can carry between 7,000 and 10,000 per hour, and trains can carry 50,000 people per hour – 20 times the capacity of a roadway. There is an urgent need for something like a light rail system, connecting the CBD and the inner suburbs, to relieve pressure on the roads. Newman went on to note that, since some 200,000 people come into the city by train every day, Sydney now needs a decade of rail building, to make a liveable and sustainable city. [3] A TV news program in 2005 highlighted that 'almost a third of Sydney's landscape is [now] dedicated to roads and car-parks - and more are being built.' There are 2.1 million cars on the road in Sydney in 2007, a growth of just under 10 per cent in five years. And as all transport experts agree, putting in more roads and freeways only adds to congestion and pollution.

In 2007, on any day at peak hour, there are 350,000 cars on the roads of greater Sydney. Currently, as in the early 1970s, rapidly escalating oil prices have highlighted the problems of a city basing its transport network heavily on the motor vehicle, whether car, bus or lorry. This situation has been exacerbated since 1990 by the propensity of the New South Wales state government to step away from its traditional role of building and managing public transport. Instead, it has refused to invest in public transport on the same scale as road spending, transferring its responsibilities in this area to so-called 'Public-Private Partnerships', by which private consortiums have built and operated toll roads around the city. This has proved to be highly unpopular with commuters and voters, as well as costly to the taxpayers, as transport bureaucrats have been outmanoeuvred by wily investment bankers. Extraneous influences, such as the desire to woo certain electors, the need to appear able to manage the state's infrastructure effectively, or the emergence of new ideas about financing public services in general, have usually impeded rational decision-making.

The future of Sydney's transport Past experience does not foster optimism about Sydney's transport future. While many cities have decided that the advantages of the so-called 'motorised democracy' are illusory for the great mass of the population, Sydney is once again at a crossroads where the city's direction must be reassessed. A society's transport requirements change constantly, due to population movements, changes in work and leisure patterns, alterations in demand for goods and services, and so on. No transport system is perfect and Sydney's transport network is no exception. New technologies provide innovative solutions to problems, but may have long-term economic and social implications that are unclear when the initial choices are made. Finally, governments are intimately involved in transport decision-making, but they are subject to changing ideologies and fiscal fashions. What of the future? New concerns about global warming, carbon dioxide emissions, respiratory diseases and our dependence on imported oil, supplies of which may have peaked, will all have effects on transport policy and provision in the decades to come.

References Garry Wotherspoon, (ed), Sydney's Transport: Studies in Urban History, Hale and Iremonger, Sydney, 1983 Garry Wotherspoon, 'The CARR that ate Sydney', available at accessed 31 January 2008 Notes [1] Arthur Phillip, first despatch from Sydney, Historical Records of New South Wales, Vol 1, part 2, (1788-1792) p 122 [2] R Connell and T Irving, Class Structure in Australian History, Longman Cheshire, Melbourne, 1980, p 295 [3] Sydney Morning Herald, 30 May 2005 . My Dinghy series Henley Parramatta River Sydney | The Parram… | Flickr Bob Moss By: Bob Moss My Dinghy series Henley Parramatta River Sydney The Parramatta River is an intermediate tide dominated, drowned valley estuary[1] located in Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. The Parramatta River is the main tributary of Sydney Harbour, a branch of Port Jackson. Secondary tributaries include the smaller Lane Cove and Duck rivers[clarification needed].

Formed by the confluence of Toongabbie Creek and Darling Mills Creek at North Parramatta,[3] the river flows in an easterly direction to a line between Yurulbin, Birchgrove and Manns Point, Greenwich.[4] Here it flows into Port Jackson, about 21 kilometres (13 mi) from the Tasman Sea. The total catchment area of the river is approximately 252.4 square kilometres (97.5 sq mi) and is tidal to Charles Street Weir in Parramatta, approximately 30 kilometres (19 mi) from the Sydney Heads.[5] The land adjacent to the Parramatta River was occupied for many thousands of years by the Burramattagal, Toongagal, Wallumattagal, Wangal, and Wategora Aboriginal peoples. They used the river as an important source of food and a place for trade Done Parramatta River Parramatta River River or creek Major tributary of Sydney Harbour, which flows east from Blacktown Creek to meet Port Jackson between Greenwich and Birchgrove. The river is tidal to Charles Street Weir at Parramatta, 30 kilometres from Sydney Heads.

River Cycles - A History of the Parramatta River by Ian Hoskins , 2015 Prior to European settlement, the waterway we now call the Parramatta River was a shared food source, a highway and a territorial boundary for the Wangal, Wallemudegal, Gammeraygal and Burramattagal peoples. Colonisation dramatically reshaped the ecology of the river; the natural cycles of climate and tide that had long influenced the waterway have been joined by other diverse social forces; economic, cultural and technological. Agriculture, river transport, land development and heavy industry have left a long term legacy despite recent environmental remediation. About the Murray River's Estuary: Full Text of My Address to the Sydney Institute - Jennifer Marohasy By jennifer on March 10, 2012 in Information , Opinion AT the very bottom of Australia’s Murray-Darling Basin is a vast coastal lagoon that was once connected to the Southern Ocean. The region was home for the Ngarrindjeri, who wore possum skin coats and loved to tell stories. One of their storiesii is about greed and the environment and also the consequences of telling lies.

Two men set off in their bark canoe for the Ngiakkung, a shallow, reed-filled corner of the lagoon their tribe favoured for fishing. That day thukeri, or bream, were so plentiful that the fish all but hopped into the canoe. Having acquired a substantial haul, one said, “Hey brother, we have plenty of thukeri. Let’s paddle to the shore before we sink.” But his friend, for whom plenty was never enough, wanted to keep on fishing. The fish piled up even higher in the canoe, which sank even lower. Eventually, they paddled towards the shore, where a stranger stood. “Hey brothers, I’m hungry,” he called out, “Have you got any fish to share?” The rapacious one replied, “No, we haven’t. Just enough to feed our families.” As the stranger turned to walk away, the men started laughing behind their hands. The stranger heard them and said, “You have plenty of fish, but because you are greedy and don’t want to share, you will never enjoy the thukeri again.” When the men reached the bank, they found the fish they had caught were thin and full of sharp bones. They told their families what had happened.

The old people said that the stranger was the Great Spirit Ngurunderi. From then on, for all time, the Ngarrindjeri people would be punished. Today, whenever Ngarrindjeri catch a bony bream, they are reminded of long ago, when Ngurunderi taught them a lesson. During the recent drought, the waters of Ngiakkung, a place now called Loveday Bay, dried up. No one could ever remember the lagoon, now called Lake Alexandrina, drying up before. Some of the people who now live around Lake Alexandrina said it was the fault of upstream irrigators. But there was little to no water upstream either. There was drought in the Murray Darling, and there had been drought before. But this was the first time the lake waters had receded. The old fishermen say that before irrigation, before the weirs, locks, levees and sea dykes, the Murray River would flog down from September until maybe Christmas, filling the lagoon, then out the mouth. By Christmas flow had usually slowed and water levels dropped right down. Then when the South Westerly wind picked up the sea would pour in through the mouth and work its way across the lake.

So Lake Alexandrina was fresh in spring and summer, but salty by autumn. What the old fishermen describe is an estuary: a transition zone. In these type of systems salt water comes in under freshwater, and moves across this type of coastal lagoon as what is known as saltwater ‘wedge’. The Murray River had a barrier estuary with a central lagoon, Lake Alexandrina, and a sand barrier, the Younghusband Peninsula. A single, narrow and shallow inlet that often closes over is also a characteristic of barrier estuaries. There are many barrier estuaries along the southern Australian coastline including Lake Illawarra just south of Wollongong. According to the Lake Illawarra Authority’s management guide, freshwater flows into the lake from the escarpment and salty water from the ocean tides and therefore it is an estuary. There are many of these Intermittently Closed and Open Lakes and Lagoons, known by the acronym ICOLL, from Sydney to the Victorian border. A significant issue is management of the risk of flooding when their ‘mouths’ close over. NSW State government policy doesn’t support the artificial opening of ICOLLs.

The South Australian government insists the Murray mouth, which is the inlet to Lake Alexandrina, be kept open. In fact since European settlement there have been many schemes devised to change the Murray’s mouth to make it deeper and wider, including through basting and dredging and more recently through water reform. The South Australian government also insists that Lake Alexandrina be a freshwater lake, not an estuary. In the 1930s, 7.6 kilometres of sea dykes were built blocking the five channels from Lake Alexandrina that converge on the Murray’s mouth to stop ‘salt water intrusions’. The sea dykes dammed the estuary making it totally dependent on river flows. Stopped the tide. Limiting natural scouring of the sea mouth in spring by the river flow and in autumn by the Southern Ocean. Not surprisingly the hydrology and geomorphology of the Murray’s mouth has changed with sand that used to shoal behind the mouth consolidating into Bird Island that continues to grow and may one day permanently plug the Murray’s mouth. During the Millennium drought, water levels in Lake Alexandrina fell precipitously from 0.85 metres above sea level to -1.10 metres below.

There was simply not enough water in upstream dams to keep both Lake Alexandrina and the adjacent Lake Albert supplied with adequate water notwithstanding the Snowy diversions and strictly limited allocations for irrigation during the drought. The South Australian government could have opened the 593 gates within the five sea dykes to let the Southern Ocean in, but instead kept the gates shut tight. This was not reported in the national media, instead, during the drought, television cameras focused on either the receding lake waters or the sand dredge working to keep the Murray’s mouth open, conveniently avoiding images of the massive sea dykes in between. As soon as the floodwaters arrived in the spring of 2010, the government opened the gates to let excess water out. The Parramatta River empties into Port Jackson that includes Sydney Harbour. Melbourne’s Yarra River empties into Port Phillip Bay. We don’t expect the Yarra River to keep Port Phillip Bay full of freshwater. But we do expect the Murray River to keep Lakes Alexandria and Albert full of freshwater, even during drought. Interesting the Yarra River has 57 per cent of its flow available to the environment.

The Murray has a similar level of water extraction with 58 per cent remaining for the environment. In June 2011, the Yarra was short-listed for a prestigious international environmental award, while the Murray River was being described by activist group, GetUp!, as on the brink of ecological collapse because of inadequate environmental flow. The Murray Darling is a large catchment and the upper Murray and Murrumbidgee snow fed, so most years it can fill Lakes Alexandrina and Albert with freshwater. On average over the 42 years from 1968 to 2010, 5,920 gigalitres a year of freshwater has flowed over Lock 1. That’s about 11 Sydney Harbour’s full of freshwater each year into the Lower Lakes. Of course the Southern Ocean could guarantee water for Lake Alexandrina during drought; except the gates have been kept shut to the Southern Ocean since February 1940. Before the sea dykes were built across the five channels that converge on the Murray’s mouth, mulloway, a large fish with a golden sheen, would hangout in the underwater canyons beyond the Murray’s mouth.

As though reluctant to come in, then on a big tide and a full moon large schools would race through the inlet between the sand dunes. The year the sea dykes were sealed, the mulloway came in and then were trapped, on each ebbing tide, churning in the channels below the sea dykes. There is an old photograph of the Goolwa wharf groaning under 160 ton of dead mulloway. During the 1980s prominent South Australians successfully lobbied for Lake Alexandrina to be listed as a Wetland of International Importance under the United Nation’s Ramsar Convention. The listing was never intended to restore the estuary and bring back the mulloway. The intention was to secure more water from upstream; as more than one South Australian has told me over the last year, we can import our rice and cotton from overseas, but there is only place we can get our freshwater and that is from upstream. All the new housing estates and marinas on Hindmarsh Island have fixed, not floating jetties: they have no intensions of ever restoring the tide.

It was clever politics, the Ramsar listing: the need for freshwater for the Lower Lakes is now always framed as being about the environment. Never mind that the Lower Lakes are managed as a freshwater storage and that the water allocation comes from upstream dams. And over the last decade, the Wentworth Group of Concerned Scientists has successfully lobbied for the environmental needs of Australia’s river systems to have a guaranteed first priority call on water. This became reality with the Water Act in 2007 that also gave precedence to particular environments: Ramsar-listed environments. The Wilderness Society is campaigning for the $10 billion allocated for implementation of the Water Act to be spent on water buy back ostensibly to restore natural environments in the Murray Darling. But given the legislation most of the water that is bought back will be to maintain the Lower Lakes with a regular allocation from the dams in the Murrumbidgee and upper Murray. A water license doesn’t guarantee irrigators water, the actual allocation depends on how much water is in the dams. The upper limit for all water extractions by NSW irrigators from the Murrumbidgee and Murray in any year is just over 4,000 Gl.

Coincidentally this is the same volume of freshwater the South Australian government is demanding as additional flow for the Ramsar listed Lower Lakes. So, all that campaigning for environmental flow is on the basis of a false premise. You are being deceived. Meeting the objectives of the Water Act 2007 may result in the closing down of irrigated agriculture in the NSW Riverina, but most of the ‘water saved’ will not benefit a natural environment. Remember back in 2004 when Mark Latham, was campaigning to win the federal election? He promised to add 450 gigalitres of environmental flows to the Murray River in his first term of government and an extra 1,500 within ten years. At that time Australian Greens leader, Bob Brown, said he would return 1,500 gigalitres within five years – in half the time. Back then 1,500 gigalitres seemed like a lot of water.

The late Peter Cullen also mentioned 1,500 gigalitres and indicated that volume was “scientifically derived.” The Wentworth Group proposed the water be returned through an annual incremental increase of 100 gigalitres for environmental flows. So, by last year 800 gigalitres should have been returned. In fact, campaigning during the 2010 federal election Julia Gillard said over 900 gigalitres had already been recovered. But no one is happy. The Australian Greens, who once demanded 1,500 Gl, are also now claiming that a minimum of 4,000 Gl must be returned to ensure the Murray River’s survival and 7,600 Gl if it is to be healthy. In 2004, the campaign for more water was ostensibly because of declining water quality and rising river salinity. This was shown to be a fiction: river salinity levels had been falling for twenty years as a result of the implementation of on-farm drainage and salinity management plans in the 1980s. So theoretically less, not more, water should now be needed, particularly given the drought has broken.

It was junk science that suggested an additional 2.7 Sydney Harbours of freshwater would restore the system back then, and more junk science by way of different computer modelling that now claims the need for 13.6 Sydney Harbours of freshwater. In July 2011, I visited the Federal Parliament in Canberra and met with about a dozen Labor, Liberal, National and Greens Senators and MPs representing voters from across the Murray Darling. I emphasized that: the health of a river system is more than the quantity of water flowing downstream; current management of Lake Alexandrina as an artificial freshwater oasis is unsustainable; and restoring the Murray River’s estuary must be a priority in any Murray Darling Basin Plan. They all knew about the sea dykes, the false premises on which much of the current water reform agenda is based, but they said restoring the estuary would be too hard, too political, it was potentially a vote loser in South Australia. So, there is no discussion or opposition to the detail in the planning documents relating to the distribution of the $10 billion for implementation of the Water Act.

The argument is only about how much water will be bought back, in particular how much water will be guaranteed for the Lower Lakes as an annual freshwater allocation at the expense of upstream food production. The supporting policies of the federal government, South Australian government and even the Australian Greens, is based on the assumption Lake Alexandrina has always been a freshwater lake. This claim, that the lake has always been fresh, is never juxtaposed, for example, against the observations in the diary of Charles Sturt that the waters of Lake Alexandrina were salty in February 1830, or the history of the mulloway fishery in Lake Alexandrina, until construction of the sea dykes. It would be difficult for a rational person, familiar with the available evidence, to come to the conclusion that Lake Alexandrina has been a predominately freshwater lake for 7,000 years. Yet this is the advice in reports from CSIRO and the Australian Wetlands and Rivers Centre.

And this popular claim is backed up by a prominent statement in the executive summary of a report commissioned by the South Australian Department of Environment and Heritage prepared by Jennie Fluin, Deborah Haynes and John Tibby.ix These scientists are recognised experts at reconstructing the past history of lakes and wetlands based on the presence or absence of particular species of diatom in sediment cores. Diatoms are unicellular algae with shells that preserve as microfossils. The scientists incorrectly state in the report that: “There is no evidence in the 7,000 year record of substantial marine incursions into Lake Alexandrina.” This claim, while consistent with government policy, is at odds with not only what we know about how Southern Australian estuaries evolved and now function, but also many studies published in reputable scientific journals including research papers authored by the same scientist. Indeed the claim is inconsistent with the specific diatom assemblage described in their published papers and also in their report to the South Australian government.

There is substantial evidence for three distinct phases in the evolution of the Murray River’s estuary: a period of maximum marine influence when the estuary was starting to form following a period of rapid sea-level rise 7,000 years ago, then a period of maximum freshwater influence after a sand barrier formed across the estuary, followed by a third phase with conflicting evidence as to whether Lake Alexandrina was becoming generally fresher or saltier at the time the sea dykes were built. That there have been three distinct phases in the evolution of the Murray River estuary is consistent with what is generally known about the evolution of barrier estuaries in Southern Australiaxii including, for example, the Illawarra Lakes in NSW. What we don’t know, we can learn. But it can be hard to unlearn lies, especially those that have been pounded into our brains like the story of the Murray’s mouth closing over and Lake Alexandrina drying-up all because of greedy upstream irrigators. Those who know about estuaries could be correcting the misinformation. But a majority of Australian scientists with expertise in such issues are dependent on government for their funding.

Like the Thukeri Story of the Ngarrindjeri, the real story of water reform in the Murray Darling is about greed, deception and telling lies but on a much grander scale. Increasingly my tribe, middle-class white Australia, has many compelling stories that purport to teach us how to live in harmony with the natural environment and the Murray River. Some of the stories are made-up by those with a vested interest, while many more are from people who simply want to save the environment, but who don’t understand it. Although their hearts are in the right place, they may not know that the natural history of Lake Alexandrina once included mulloway, or that Matthew Flinders did not draw a river mouth on his map of Encounter Bay, or that some scientists make claims that accord with government policy, but not the available evidence. Some think that sea water will kill the river red gums around the estuary. But river red gums don’t grow around the Lower Lakes. It is coastal country. Mangroves should be growing there. Mangroves grow in Sydney Harbour, Port Phillip Bay and along South Australia’s coastline where there are tides. But there are no mangroves at the bottom of the Murray River.

The Murray River doesn’t have an estuary: the sea dykes dammed the estuary and stopped the tides. It is wrong that politicians, environmental groups and scientists are all silent about the sea dykes. It is wrong that the whole of the Murray-Darling Basin, all one million square kilometres of it, should be held hostage to a fiction, to a specious claim about a freshwater lake. What our tribe needs is a story about the Murray grounded in reality. Otherwise we risk a thin future filled with sharp bones. Thank you. ***** This is the text of an address by Jennifer Marohasy to the Sydney Institute on February 8, 2012. A pdf version with footnotes and map can be downloaded here . About jennifer 2 Responses to About the Murray River’s Estuary: Full Text of My Address to the Sydney Institute toby March 10, 2012 at 2:16 pm # “The Parramatta River empties into Port Jackson that includes Sydney Harbour. Melbourne’s Yarra River empties into Port Phillip Bay. We don’t expect the Yarra River to keep Port Phillip Bay full of freshwater.

But we do expect the Murray River to keep Lakes Alexandria and Albert full of freshwater, even during drought.” This seems to sum it up Jen! Bob_FJ March 11, 2012 at 5:23 pm # Splendid article Jen! I can’t recall the details right now, but didn’t one of the early notable explorers or geographers record that the mouth of the Murray was sometimes blocked /dry back in his day? About: Parramatta River About: Parramatta River An Entity of Type : natural place , from Named Graph : , within Data Space : dbpedia.org The Parramatta River is an intermediate tide dominated, drowned valley estuary located in Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. The Parramatta River is the main tributary of Sydney Harbour, a branch of Port Jackson. Secondary tributaries include the smaller Lane Cove and Duck rivers[clarification needed].Formed by the confluence of Toongabbie Creek and Darling Mills Creek at North Parramatta, the river flows in an easterly direction to a line between Yurulbin, Birchgrove and Manns Point, Greenwich.

Here it flows into Port Jackson, about 21 kilometres (13 mi) from the Tasman Sea. Property abstract نهر باراماتا(بالإنجليزية: Parramatta River): هو نهر يقع في سيدني بولاية نيوساوث ويلز, أستراليا, نهر باراماتا هو الرافد الرئيسي لميناء سيدني، وهو فرع من ميناء جاكسون. الروافد الثانوية الأخرى تشمل نهر لين كوف الأصغر ونهر بطة Duck, يبدأ النهر في منطقة التقاء خور تونجابي Toongabbie وجدول مطاحن دارلنج غرب باراماتا، ويسافر باتجاه الشرق إلى نقطة بين ونقطة روبنسون، ومدينة Birchgrove.

هنا يصب النهر في ميناء جاكسون،على بعد حوالي 21 كيلومترا (13 ميل) من بحر تسمان.مترجم بوابة علم البيئة32x28pxبوابة ماء (ar) The Parramatta River is an intermediate tide dominated, drowned valley estuary located in Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. The Parramatta River is the main tributary of Sydney Harbour, a branch of Port Jackson. Secondary tributaries include the smaller Lane Cove and Duck rivers[clarification needed]. Formed by the confluence of Toongabbie Creek and Darling Mills Creek at North Parramatta, the river flows in an easterly direction to a line between Yurulbin, Birchgrove and Manns Point, Greenwich. Here it flows into Port Jackson, about 21 kilometres (13 mi) from the Tasman Sea. The total catchment area of the river is approximately 252.4 square kilometres (97.5 sq mi) and is tidal to Charles Street Weir in Parramatta, approximately 30 kilometres (19 mi) from the Sydney Heads.

The land adjacent to the Parramatta River was occupied for many thousands of years by the Burramattagal, Toongagal, Wallumattagal, Wangal, and Wategora Aboriginal peoples. They used the river as an important source of food and a place for trade. (en) La Parramatta est une rivière d'Australie s'achevant à Sydney, en Nouvelle-Galles du Sud. Cette voie d'eau navigable est le principal cours d'eau se jetant dans le port de Sydney, une partie de Port Jackson. La rivière nait au confluent de la Toongabbie Creek et de la Darling Mills Creek à l'ouest de Parramatta et coule vers l'est jusqu'à une ligne située entre Greenwich Point, Greenwich et Robinsons Point, à Birchgrove. Là, elle se jette dans le port de Sydney, a encore environ 21 km de l'océan. Le bassin versant total de la rivière fait environ 130 km² et la marée remonte jusqu'au quai rue Charles Weir à Parramatta, à environ 30 km de l'océan.

(fr) Der Parramatta River ist ein Wasserweg in Sydney in Australien. Er ist neben den kleineren Flüssen Lane Cove River und Duck River der wichtigste Nebenfluss des Hafens von Sydney (Port Jackson). Der Fluss beginnt am Zusammenfluss von Toongabbie Creek und Darling Mills Creek westlich von Parramatta City und fließt in östlicher Richtung bis auf eine Linie Greenwich Point (Greenwich) – Robinsons Point (Birchgrove). An dieser Stelle, immer noch 21 km vom Meer entfernt, fließt er in den Port Jackson. Die gesamte Einzugsfläche des Flusses umfasst ein Gebiet von ca. 130 km² und gilt bis zum Charles-Street-Wehr in Parramatta City, ca. 30 km westlich der Sydney Heads, als Ästuar. (de) Il Parramatta è un fiume australiano, che sfocia nel Port Jackson, a Sydney.

Formato dalla confluenza del Toongabbie Creek e del Darling Mills Creek a North Parramatta, fluisce in direzione orientale verso una linea fra Greenwich Point e Robinsons Point, Birchgrove. Qui si riversa in Port Jackson, a circa 21 km dal Mar di Tasman. (it) Parramatta River at the NSW Office of Environment and Heritage (en) comment The Parramatta River is an intermediate tide dominated, drowned valley estuary located in Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. The Parramatta River is the main tributary of Sydney Harbour, a branch of Port Jackson. Secondary tributaries include the smaller Lane Cove and Duck rivers[clarification needed].Formed by the confluence of Toongabbie Creek and Darling Mills Creek at North Parramatta, the river flows in an easterly direction to a line between Yurulbin, Birchgrove and Manns Point, Greenwich. Here it flows into Port Jackson, about 21 kilometres (13 mi) from the Tasman Sea.

(en) نهر باراماتا(بالإنجليزية: Parramatta River): هو نهر يقع في سيدني بولاية نيوساوث ويلز, أستراليا, نهر باراماتا هو الرافد الرئيسي لميناء سيدني، وهو فرع من ميناء جاكسون. الروافد الثانوية الأخرى تشمل نهر لين كوف الأصغر ونهر بطة Duck, يبدأ النهر في منطقة التقاء خور تونجابي Toongabbie وجدول مطاحن دارلنج غرب باراماتا، ويسافر باتجاه الشرق إلى نقطة بين ونقطة روبنسون، ومدينة Birchgrove. (ar) Der Parramatta River ist ein Wasserweg in Sydney in Australien.

Er ist neben den kleineren Flüssen Lane Cove River und Duck River der wichtigste Nebenfluss des Hafens von Sydney (Port Jackson).Der Fluss beginnt am Zusammenfluss von Toongabbie Creek und Darling Mills Creek westlich von Parramatta City und fließt in östlicher Richtung bis auf eine Linie Greenwich Point (Greenwich) – Robinsons Point (Birchgrove). An dieser Stelle, immer noch 21 km vom Meer entfernt, fließt er in den Port Jackson. (de) La Parramatta est une rivière d'Australie s'achevant à Sydney, en Nouvelle-Galles du Sud. Cette voie d'eau navigable est le principal cours d'eau se jetant dans le port de Sydney, une partie de Port Jackson.La rivière nait au confluent de la Toongabbie Creek et de la Darling Mills Creek à l'ouest de Parramatta et coule vers l'est jusqu'à une ligne située entre Greenwich Point, Greenwich et Robinsons Point, à Birchgrove.

Là, elle se jette dans le port de Sydney, a encore environ 21 km de l'océan. (fr) Il Parramatta è un fiume australiano, che sfocia nel Port Jackson, a Sydney.Formato dalla confluenza del Toongabbie Creek e del Darling Mills Creek a North Parramatta, fluisce in direzione orientale verso una linea fra Greenwich Point e Robinsons Point, Birchgrove. Qui si riversa in Port Jackson, a circa 21 km dal Mar di Tasman. (it)

Question: Which river flows through Sydney and into Port Jackson?
Answer: Parramatta