1. The Rob Roy Hotel – The Bloodhouse By The Bay
The Rob Roy wasn’t just Balmain’s toughest pub — it was a rite of passage.
A few steps from the wharf, and a world away from polite society, it opened in 1857 and stayed open for over 100 years.
Someone tried to clean it up in the 1870s, slapping on the name The Oriental like a fancy hat on a bare-knuckle boxer.
Didn’t take. The bloodhouse vibes stayed, along with the regulars who’d punch you for looking at their beer the wrong way.
It was loud, it was lawless, and it was legendary.
The Rob Roy (1857–1958)Bled out after 101 years of brawls — license exiled to Wiley Park.
2. The Waverley Hotel – The Pub With Two Faces
The Waverley didn’t need a corner. It had a secret back door to the harbour.
Smack in the middle of Darling Street, this was the pub where sailors slipped in, dried off, and got half-cut before heading back out.
It ran on rum, rebellion, and the occasional seaman on shore leave.
Closed in 1910 thanks to the Reduction Vote — which decided Sydney didn’t need so many good stories, or pubs with convenient escape routes.
The Waverley (1851–1910)
Closed not for crime, but for being in the wrong suburb during a temperance tantrum.
3. The William Wallace Hotel – The Braveheart Boozer
Named after Scotland’s greatest freedom fighter — and later, frequented by the man who played him. Yes, Mel bloody Gibson drank here. And in true Willie Wallie style, they painted a mural of Braveheart inside the pub — whisky in one hand, beer in the other. Locals loved it. Filmmakers loved it (Caddie, Adoration filmed scenes inside). It stayed gloriously unfashionable until the bitter end, a stubborn old boozer in a world of wine bars. Shut down in 2019 after 140 years.
The William Wallace (1879–2019)Fought the good fight — then quietly surrendered to renovation.
4. Forth & Clyde Hotel – Bikers, Brawls, and Bloody Mayhem
If pubs had spirit animals, the Forth & Clyde’s was a hellhound on a Harley.
Perched near Mort Bay, it started life as a working-class watering hole for Mort’s Dock labourers — schooners, swearing, and salt-of-the-earth solidarity.
By the 1960s, the dockers gave way to bikers. Leather replaced overalls, and the pub took on a louder, rowdier edge.
It even featured in the cult biker film Stone — with real outlaw bikies as extras and police on standby. Miraculously, no one got stabbed. That day.
The Forth & Clyde shut its doors in 1972.
The building’s still there — looking quietly relieved that the chaos is someone else’s problem now.
The Forth & Clyde (1857–1972)Drank with dockies, roared with bikies — then disappeared in a cloud of exhaust.
5. The Shipwright’s Arms – The pub you could swim to
So close to the bay, some punters barely made it onto dry land before ordering a pint.
It opened in 1841 for the shipwrights and scallywags who built Balmain — or at least drank like they did.
It was soaked in salt, sweat, and stories that shouldn’t be repeated near children.
By the 1960s, it quietly bowed out and became a house.
But you can bet some old sea dog is still looking for the front bar — and his lost boot.
The Shipwright’s Arms (1844–1966)Sank beneath the tide of time — now just another house with rum in the walls.
6. The Pacific Hotel – Home of the Opera House (Not That One)
The Pacific wasn’t Sydney’s Opera House — it was better.
Instead of sopranos, it had a regular punter belting out power ballads and pub anthems, often joined by Colgate-Palmolive factory workers still in their overalls.
The noise? Operatic.
The pitch? All over the place.
The vibe? Bloody unforgettable.
It even landed a role as Patchett’s Hotel in the Aussie soap E Street, stealing scenes with its classic Aussie-pub charisma.
But not long after its brief moment of TV glory, the Pacific pulled its final pint.
A last chorus rang out, the lights went down — and the pub went quiet forever.
The Pacific Hotel (1865–1991)Curtains fell, crowd dispersed, and not a single encore.
7. Volunteer Hotel – Raise a Glass to the Firefighters
If the big firebell rang on Darling Street, Balmain’s volunteer firefighters raced to the blaze… …then raced straight here for a few calming ales afterward. The Volunteer Hotel was the ultimate reward for saving the suburb from going up in flames. Closed in 1928, just as Balmain started modernising. But it’s nice to think every time a Balmain firefighter puts out a blaze today, somewhere a ghost bartender at the Volunteer is pouring them a pint.
The Volunteer Hotel (1865–1928)Extinguished by the very fire it used to fuel — progress.
8. Star Hotel – The Dockies’ Den
At the edge of Mort Bay, the Star was where the wharfies, boilermakers, and union men plotted strikes and swapped stories. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t even very clean. But it was real. After meetings at the Ship Painters and Dockers Union next door, workers would flood into the Star, singing, arguing, and drinking themselves hoarse. The Star shut down in 1930 — but if you pass the corner of Mort and Trouton Streets, you’re standing on the bones of a thousand lost paydays.
The Star Hotel (1866–1930)Drank itself through the boom — and starved in the bust.
9. Albion Hotel – The Beer That Built Balmain
One of the earliest pubs on Darling Street, opened 1860. The Albion served the first generations of dockworkers — but when the London Hotel opened a few doors down with fancier beer and better furniture, the Albion struggled. By 1876, it lost its licence, and the old pub became a bakery, then a shop. Moral of the story: never open a pub next to someone selling fresher beer.
The Albion Hotel (1860–1876)Lost the pub wars to a fancier neighbour.
10. Town Hall Hotel – Balmain’s Last Stand
Fast forward to the 21st century. The Town Hall Hotel stood tall through world wars, union marches, the six o’clock swill, and the endless tide of gentrification. But it couldn’t survive 2017. Sold off and shut down — turned into a medical centre (because nothing says Balmain spirit like Botox and blood tests). Former mayor Darcy Byrne called it “the dangerous dismantling of Sydney’s history.” He was right. The Townie was a bloody good pub. And now it’s a bloody good cautionary tale.
The Town Hall Hotel (1879–2017)Survived wars, swill, and strikes — but not the property boom.
A Final Toast
Balmain once had more pubs per person than anywhere else in Australia. Today, most are gone. But their stories aren’t. Every time you walk past a crooked sandstone wall, an old corner shop, or a building with a suspiciously wide front step — you’re stepping on pub history .
Raise a glass to the William Wallaces, the Waverleys, the Rob Roys, and all the forgotten watering holes that kept Balmain buzzing.
Gone — but still bloody interesting. Speaking of which …try booking one of our tours.
