19/06/2026
Hart’s Shearing Shed – 40 Years On
26th May 1986
Last month marked 40 years since one of the biggest moments in the Hart Bros family history.
Back in the mid-1980s, the Anderson family sold land to Adelaide Brighton Cement for the expansion of the Klein Point quarry. Sitting on that land was a shearing shed that would soon be in the path of an open-cut mine.
Jock Hart purchased the shed, thinking it would be a handy addition to the farm on Wild Dog Hill Road, Warooka. Little did he know that, in years to come, the shed would become just as famous for parties as it was for shearing sheep.
Built in 1972, the shed measured 80 feet by 30 feet and was a three-stand shearing shed.
Many people said Jock’s idea of moving the entire shed in one piece was impossible. That only made him want to do it more. Jock’s theory was simple: with any big task, you tackle it like eating an elephant—one mouthful at a time. Take your time, make a plan, and it will happen.
Along with Doris, Gary, Ann and the rest of the crew, Jock made it happen. It took plenty of planning, hard work and determination, but eventually the day arrived.
The move itself was a production worthy of a movie.
Leading the convoy was Stumpy McKenzie and an eight-year-old Anthony Hart in the es**rt vehicle. Behind them came a fleet of Telecom and ETSA vans, utes and cherry pickers, ready to raise and lower power and telephone lines as the enormous shed passed underneath.
Above it all, Ern Hendry and Herman the German flew overhead in a plane, filming the move and keeping an eye on traffic.
On the road, just ahead of the shed, was Jock Hart in his Land Rover. In the back, among blocks of wood, an oxy trolley and Jock’s trusty kangaroo jack, sat Ann—Jock’s favourite daughter-in-law—whose job was to film the entire journey. Armed with a video camera once used by Alby Mangels during his World Safari adventures, Ann faced backwards for the whole trip, capturing the move like a country version of Steven Spielberg.
Then came the shed itself. It was so long that the trailer wheels sat about three-quarters of the way back, while the truck cab was only a metre or so in front of it.
Pulling the load was Hart Bros’ pride and joy: The Leader (Master Anthony)—a CAT-powered, Australian-made masterpiece of machinery.
In the cab were Malcolm Doecke, five-year-old Darren Hart, and behind the wheel, steering the whole operation, Gary Hart. When Jock needed someone he could trust up front, he trusted his son.
Somewhere in the chaos was cousin Bobby Hart from Wagga Wagga. Looking like a younger Mad Max and carrying just as much madness, Bobby raced ahead on his motorbike armed with a sledgehammer and pinch bar. His job was to knock over road signs and remove anything else that stood in the shed’s path. Once the shed passed, he would somehow get around the convoy, reinstall the signs and repeat the process at the next intersection.
At the rear of the convoy were Doris Hart and granddaughter Angela Hart. Their role was just as important as everyone else’s: providing smoko and, later, the champagne, beer and food needed to celebrate the achievement. Jock never did anything without Doris’ approval, and she was always there to make sure he stayed on track.
The route wound from Stansbury to Yorketown, around the back of town, up the Harry Butler Highway and onto Moorowie Station Road. When turning from the main road onto G.B. Sherriff Road, the shed leaned alarmingly and nearly touched the ground.
By this stage, crowds had begun to gather. Cars pulled over, kids jumped out to wave, and many people turned around to follow the convoy just to see how it all unfolded.
From Moorowie Station Road, the shed bypassed the back of Warooka. Families sat in front yards waving and cheering as the giant structure rolled past.
This move hadn’t happened overnight. Planning had been underway for months, and the whole community knew when the big day was coming.
From the back of Warooka, the convoy continued along White Hut Road before heading south towards Marion Bay. Eventually, the circus reached Wild Dog Hill Road—a sight Gary was undoubtedly relieved to see.
For some reason, the roughly eight kilometres of Wild Dog Hill Road leading to the Hart farm happened to be wider and free of overhanging trees. Whenever that topic came up later, Jock would grin like a little kid who had just thrown a rock through an old window.
Finally, the convoy reached the farm, where Alby Goodes waited beside the prepared shed site. His job was to roll the pad ready for the shed’s new home.
Gary turned the CAT-powered Leader into the paddock with the giant shed in tow. The old truck had never let the Harts down, but on this day it met its match. The rich soil was boggy, and the truck came to a halt.
Alby quickly arrived with the trusty SAME tractor and a cable, pulling the truck through.
At last, the shed was in place.
As the trucks and utes pulled up, the Hart family noticed a line of more than 15 cars entering the property. Nobody knew who they were. It soon became clear they were simply people who had witnessed the move, become caught up in the excitement and wanted to see what was going on.
Before long, the shed was opened up and Doris and her crew laid out the champagne, beer and food for a well-earned celebration. Old-school chairs and 44-gallon drums provided the furniture, while the spectacular view from the shed’s new location gave everyone something to admire.
To strengthen the structure during transport, large steel I-beams had been installed diagonally inside the shed. Before leaving Stansbury, someone had unknowingly left an oil can and a shifting spanner sitting on one of those beams. When the shed was opened at its destination, both items were still exactly where they had been left.
That was proof enough of how smoothly Gary had driven the load.
For the next couple of decades, the shed was used to shear Hart sheep and sheep from neighbouring farms. Many shearers worked there, and plenty of young shearers had their first crack in the stand.
But perhaps what Hart’s Shed became best known for was the parties.
It hosted 18ths, 21sts, 40ths, Warooka Hotel Social Club functions and countless random get-togethers.
In more recent years, the Hart family has continued the tradition with annual Shearing Shed Parties—an excuse to catch up, have a few drinks and scare the rats out.
Back in 1986, people said it was the biggest building ever moved in Australia. Whether that’s true or not, we may never know.
What we do know is that it remains one of the coolest things our family has ever done.
Not just the feat of moving such a massive structure, but the planning, teamwork and determination required to pull it off.
It’s something not many people have done—and something few are ever likely to do again.
Here’s to 40 years of Hart’s Shearing Shed. 🍷🍺
