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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Welcome, to Van Dieman’s Land you rogues that humble Britain, who finally made a stand, to send you to Port Arthur upon the brink of hell where on the road to Hobart is this little town Sorell. Founded in the eighteen hundreds, Sorell can’t ignore the bushranger Matt Brady back in eighteen twenty-four, when he stormed the settlement wreaking havoc on the law. The most infamous bushranger roads to Sorell ever saw. Now the rogues have gone but their history lives today. Milled wheat is just a memory for the folk up Sydney way. Stone buildings dare the southerlies gusting up storm bay, where we cross Pittwater Shallows on the Sorell Causeway. The first Sorell bridge was built back in eighteen seventy-two. Eight years it took to build and many never seen it through, for they became the bankrupts, and now that bridge has gone where above sea stars and oyster farms, Sorell’s moving on. Two years, two long years have passed. This new Sorell causeway bridge is opened up at last, and McGee’s bridge to Hobart joins Sorell’s noted days of bushranging convicts, and two ruined causeways. Now the rogues have gone but their history lives today. Milled wheat is just a memory for the folk up Sydney way. Stone buildings dare the southerlies gusting up storm bay, where we cross Pittwater Shallows on the Sorell Causeway. Where we cross Pittwater Shallows on the Sorell Causeway. Between Hobart and Port Arthur is this little town Sorell.
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