For many of us, the rotary clothes hoist is as Australian as a kookaburra, even given a starring role in the Sydney Olympics closing ceremony, and so it is natural to assume that it's an Australian invention.

In fact, it's difficult to pinpoint exactly who created it. There were many different variations on a similar theme proposed if not actually manufactured in America and Britain, with one patent dating back to the 1850s.

But one thing is certain: while the first rotary clothes lines certainly appeared elsewhere in the late 1800s, Australia, with its reliably sunny days and warm breezes, proved to be its natural home.

From bushes to hoisted lines

Until the 19th century, the normal way to dry laundry was to drape sheets and clothing on bushes — scented, if you were particular — or to peg them to a line hung between two posts or across whole streets, as is still picturesquely encountered in cities like Naples.

The beauty of a rotary clothes hoist was that metres of clothesline could be contained within a small area. With the frame of splayed arms sitting on a pivot, the person pegging out the damp items could simply stand in one place and pull the free line around to them.

Being able to raise the lines to a higher level to catch breezes and stop sheets dragging on the ground was even better.

At first, very tall, fixed models were made that could be tilted towards the person pegging out the clothes, thanks to a hinge on top of the centre post, but this was still somewhat clumsy. Many thought that a fixed structure with a proper hoisting mechanism would make the whole thing more straightforward.

Early attempts were anything but simple, though, with heavy rack-and-pinion systems that look more industrial than domestic, and with metal teeth which could easily snare fingers if care wasn't taken.

By the late 1940s, 200 Toyne hoists were being manufactured each week. ( ABC: Naomi Frost )

Toyne's hoists

In Australia a blacksmith from Geelong called Gilbert Toyne, along with his friend Lambert Downey, launched the Aeroplane Clothes Hoist at Melbourne's 1911 Royal Agricultural Show. Dropping aeroplane into the name showed how cutting-edge they believed it to be, given that the first powered flight by the Wright brothers had taken place only eight years earlier.

The design was popular but somewhat clumsy, with a galvanised metal frame atop a timber post on which a ratcheting mechanism and counterweight was attached.

A photograph in its 1913 sales booklet showed the hoist being used in the home garden of future World War I war hero John Monash, in Toorak — an indication that this was an item aimed at the wealthy.

Toyne's design had five arms through which the line was threaded, strong enough to withstand the weight of a heavy washload. Other advertisements promoted its labour-saving quality and its economic use of space, as well as making more dubious claims that trudging through wet grass could invite disease.

The hoist, with its own paved standing area, was seen as the hygienic, healthy future.

The Aeroplane Clothes Hoist company lasted only a few years. World War I took Toyne to Europe to fight, during which time he was gassed. When he returned to Australia, he found that his wife had left him for the manager of his company.

Undaunted, Toyne continued working on the clothes hoist. By 1926, he had made a major breakthrough and perfected the raising mechanism, enclosing it entirely within a knuckle on the upright post that was activated by a simple handle. This made it not only neater and more streamlined, but safer.

There were more changes: everything was now made from galvanised metal with the radiating arms held aloft by a tent-shape frame for added strength. Different sizes were available, from the small and cheaper Toynette, which couldn't be raised but had a span of about 3 metres, big enough for a small household, to large hoists of over 6 metres in diameter, which provided more than 50 metres of hanging line to those whose weekly washloads were likely a source of neighbourhood wonder.

The Hills hoist became an essential feature of backyards across Australia. ( ABC Arts: Stacy Gougoulis )

Sales of Toyne hoists were healthy, and by the late 1940s, 200 were being manufactured each week.

Like all inventors, Toyne never stopped tinkering, creating different versions of his rotary hoist, including a hydraulic model that could be raised and lowered by simply turning a tap.

He also invented the Ezewac — a clothes-lifting device to help transfer wet clothes from copper to trough and mangle.

Business-wise, though, he was struggling. He had sold the Victorian commercial rights to his rotary hoist to the McKirdy family in 1925 and then moved to Sydney in 1929, aiming to capture the New South Wales market. His personal life, as is related in the book Hung Out To Dry (by historians Peter Cuffley and Cas Middlemis) was impacted by the death of his four-year-old son from diphtheria; the death soon after of twins born prematurely brought him even lower.

The Great Depression impacted sales, too.

Toyne moved back to Melbourne, but had to trade under a different name so that there would be no clash with the Toyne rotary hoists sold by the McKirdys. The literal but dull name of his new company — the Quick-Drying Revolving Clothes Line Company — clearly shows that Toyne's marketing nous was not equal to his engineering ability.

The birth of 'Hills hoist'

In 1941, Toyne's patent for the all-important hoisting mechanism lapsed, paving the way for competitors to use his invention.

Returned soldier Lance Hill from Adelaide wanted to create a more space-conscious clothesline and was now able to incorporate Toyne's knowhow as the basis for his own product, at first simplifying it with a lever as opposed to a handle.

More importantly, Hill had a knack for promotion, and the Hills hoist became part of a range of useful metal items, from laundry trolleys to children's swings. The alliteration of the name was doubtless important, the Hills hoist being the perfect shorthand for every hoist.

It was the right moment, too, thanks to the continuing expansion of suburban Australia in the 1950s and 1960s, and the expansion of advertising. The Hills hoist became an essential feature of backyards across Australia.

There was no better advertisement for the product than when Cyclone Tracy flattened one area of Darwin in 1974 — leaving only a single Hills hoist standing.

Interesting facts: In 1912, the introduction of ball bearings made revolving hoists spin more freely in the breeze.

In 1912, the introduction of ball bearings made revolving hoists spin more freely in the breeze. A 1926 design by famed garden designer Edna Walling shows an enclosed area dedicated to the hoist, hidden by hedging.

A 1926 design by famed garden designer Edna Walling shows an enclosed area dedicated to the hoist, hidden by hedging. The Hills hoist was commemorated by Australia Post on a stamp in 2009.

The Hills hoist was commemorated by Australia Post on a stamp in 2009. The rotary hoist is back in fashion, seen as the environmentally conscious alternative to using electric tumble dryers.

Twenty years later, Hills celebrated the sale of its five-millionth hoist.

Gilbert Toyne died in 1983, having stopped making his own hoists in 1973. The last models had required him to buy some components from Hills, an indignity of sorts.

And yet, what better affirmation can there be than to see your own invention helping households around the land dry their laundry so easily?

While Toyne's name is unknown by many, there's no doubt that his mechanism helped cement the hoist's precious place in Australia's domestic history, creating an enduring icon for the nation.