It felt like a scene from the Famous Five as we hacked through the bush on Hill 60, armed with torches, searching for the hidden entry into the World War II tunnels.

Driven simply by curiosity to discover a largely neglected piece of Wollongong's rich underground life, we wanted to rediscover for ourselves the forgotten dream of Barrie Horlock.

Back in 1985 the former sailor and war veteran decided to pursue a dream to restore the twotunnels of the Illowra Battery that dissected Hill 60 overlooking Port Kembla and built to house two huge, 16-inch guns and their six crews.

They also allowed air to circulate and removed smoke produced by the battery's guns.

The guns were only used once - to fire a warning shot across the bows of a merchant ship that had strayed too close to mines - and in 1942 were partly responsible for the forced relocation of an Aboriginal community that had lived on the hill for many thousands of years.

Three years later, they were dismantled, leaving only a massive shield made of steel 10cm thick, whose rusting hulk still rests outside one of the tunnels, too heavy to move and too tough to vandalise.

Barrie worked for almost two years to clean out the tunnels and open them as a tourist attraction, possibly in tandem with a coffee shop or restaurant overlooking the spectacular view over the PortKembla Sewage Treatment Works and beyond.

He fought on two fronts: to persuade anyone who would listen that the tunnels should be opened up, and to prevent almost constant vandalism.

On both fronts, he ultimately lost.

His long hours of work were achieved at a time when he had lost both kidneys and had to spend six hours every second day on a dialysis machine.

Those hours were not entirely in vain, however, judging from the relatively clean condition of the tunnel floors.

"We swept out hundreds of hypodermic needles when we first came here last year," he told a newspaper in 1986.

"There were also heaps of condoms. Lately, they've taken to burning black silk, which might indicate some sort of black magic is being practiced.

"They left me a note signed Australian Mental Institute. I'll say they're mental."

Perhaps the ultimate insults, besides the graffiti of "filthy things written about women" were the massive black swastikas and "White Power" slogans painted on the walls of a restored mess room.

When we eventually find the back entrance - the front entrances near the car park are locked and welded shut - we find the graffiti unchanged, but signs that the drug culture has moved on from syringes judging from the makeshift bongs littering the ground.

About a dozen rooms open up off the twin tunnels, the largest is the size of a medium-sized living room, and the acoustics that echo in a low hum long after you stop singing would surely be perfect for black magic chants.

Other tunnels also exist near the Breakwater Battery Military Museum a short distance up the road, although not the network rumoured by some to stretch all the way to Mt Kembla.

"There are some rooms under the Heritage Park which used to be the magazines which held the gunpowder," museum president Tony Kent explained.

Some of the tunnels were built after submarines attacked Newcastle, but they had to be abandoned after they filled with water.

Visitors can see the room by appointment with the museum, but it is only open on the second and fourth Sunday of every month.

The museum, like the Hill 60 tunnels, appears to bear out the judgment of regional museums adviser Linda Raymond who spent the first six months of this year studying Wollongong's museums.

Her conclusion was that the city had "unbelievable richness in its cultural history" but relied on "passionate volunteers" with no local professional support and were therefore little known in the wider community.

They were words that would have struck a chord with Barrie Horlock, were he still alive, but our afternoon adventure in the tunnels would have been different if, instead of a mission of discovery, it had been a trip to a scenic coffee lounge and a walk lit by overhead lights instead of torches.

Our sympathies were also in part with the persistent vandals who broke all 23 locks Barrie bought to keep them out.

"They left me a letter saying I was trying to lock up their heritage and get a few dollars out of here," Barrie told the newspaper.

"They said I'd never keep them out, that they came down here to live out their fantasies in the dark."

Left: Armed with torches, visitors find their way into the old battery and tunnels at Hill 60 where two huge guns were housed in World WarII. They were only fired once - to warn of mines. Othertunnels are near the Breakwater Battery Military Museum.