Author: Scott
News Flash - another night with a sighting of the mysterious shivering blue Bigfoot creature, teetering in women’s sandals, reported in the vicinity of Lightning Ridge.
We awoke on Thursday morning to a slightly warmer caravan. The same cup of steaming coffee awaited me, and Pam was treated to a thick rich and frothy cup of hot chocolate. Sausage replaced the bacon but otherwise breakfast was a repeat of the hearty campsite feeding we experienced on Wednesday.
After breakfast we had a group meeting and decided we would break up the return drive and spend the night in a country pub, giving Pam and I another Australian experience to take away with us. Having completed Bob and David’s business yesterday, today we were free to explore the Grawin area. Bob had made arrangements with Norm the night before for Pam and I to have a tour of an actual working opal mine. After checking in with Norm we learned we would be taken away at 13:00. To fill the gap between breakfast and our tour, Bob wanted to drive over to the veteran’s memorial.
On our way out to the memorial we stopped by the overburden mining dump where massive piles of opal dirt are dumped by the various claim holders in the area. By law any new mines must eventually return all overburden dirt to the mine shafts and this central dumping repository is where overburden can be collected to fulfill this requirement. The most interesting aspect of the dump is the “Noodlers”. A Noodler is an individual who sifts through the minors overburden dirt looking for loose opals that may have been missed in the mining process. There must have been at least ten cars owned by Noodlers in the dump’s parking lot and the giant mounds of overburden were doted with the occasional Noodler busy at work noodling. Pam and I decided we would noodle a bit when we got back to the campsite and see if we could find a long forgotten opal in the rubble.
We continued on through the maze of Opal dust roads until somehow we navigated our way to the Grawin memorial. Many of the minors in Grawin are, or have been, in the Australian armed services and right in the middle of this rugged mining landscape sits a pristine and very tastefully constructed memorial for Australian veterans. Bob and David explained that the memorial was a work in progress with many of the local minors providing labor and resources to create and enhance the memorial site. The site sits on a plot of land that has been completely cleared and a small damn has been erected providing a lakeside atmosphere. Large sandstone boulders have been moved to form a low walled outdoor chapel area, with a large center stone with the inscription “Lest we forget” carved in the rock. The smaller surrounding rocks each adorn a plaque honoring the contributions and sacrifices made by Australian solders that have fought on behalf of Australia in all of the major conflicts over the past two centuries. Outside of the chapel area is seating for the various ceremonies and services held throughout the year. Each year on ANZAC Day (Australia and New Zealand Army Corp), ANZAC Day is Australia’s Memorial Day for veteran’s, over three hundred people visit the Grawin memorial for a morning service of remembrance. Adjacent to the chapel area is a small shelter with a bar that is used for disturbing rum at sunrise, which is a tradition at the memorial site on ANZAC Day. Each year the memorial area is further developed with recent additions including a mounted prop from a World War II aircraft, various artillery shells, a huge naval ship propeller and a large cargo container that is painted camouflage green, that is in the process of being converted into a military museum. Another recent enhancement is the excavation of a barbecue area that will soon provide additional facilities to support large groups of veterans, so they may gather for fellowship. Overall we were quite impressed not only with the memorial, but also with the pride and patriotism displayed by the minors of Grawin.
After our visit to the memorial we continued to explore the region stopping at the new damn that is under construction. Next we visited the Grawin “Golf Course” which consisted of a shed, a few plastic chairs and enough barren, hole ridden, rocky ground to confuse even the most astute gopher. We also pulled over to explore an old sheep station that was no longer in use. We were amazed at the combined knowledge between Bob and David who have each spent time working in sheep stations. Basically here is how it works. The sheep are herded into a small pen with a number of doors (one for each shearer). Once the sheep are contained in the pen, the shearer’s door would be opened and a farm hand would grab a sheep under the front legs and drag it to the shearer’s stool. The shearer would then buzz off all of the fleece with a rotary cutting tool that is powered by a motor driven apparatus above. The actual shearing tool looks like a big wand with the business end looking like a rotary razor for Shrek. The sheep are actually sheared in less then a minute (shearers are paid per sheared sheep). Many a sheep actually succumb to the accidental nick and cut. When the sheep has finished being sheared they are given a swat and sent through another door to rejoin the naked heard on the paddock. Standing in the sheep station with the very distant and rank smell of lanolin in the air, it was easy to envision the station operating feverishly at capacity. I don’t image the shearing experience was quite like visiting Vidal Sassoon for the little wooly bah bahs. Now if that isn’t bad enough we were shown the gruesome hand winched crane and hook for lifting the sheep that were no longer being used for wool and had moved into the final mutton stage of their existence. If I was a sheep you better bet I would keep growing as much darn wool as possible so I didn’t end up on the mutton hook like my buddy old Lamb Chop! Maybe that is the diabolical reason for keeping the crane in the middle of the paddock area, it sure would inspire some wooly motivation…
Our visit to the sheep station was a fascinating glimpse at a business that provides tremendous industry for both Australia and New Zealand, but we had places to go and people to see, we were off to find Norm and get down into the mines for our tour.
We returned to camp and we were soon introduced to Les. Les would be our tour guide and would be taking Pam and I (just Pam and I) away to show us his working claim. We waived a slightly anxious goodbye to Bob and David and piled into Les’s Land Cruiser. Seems as though Les was also well versed in the secret navigation and driving tactics of Grawin as he effortlessly zigged and zagged, knowing precisely at what tractor to turn left and which broken down car to slow for another turn… In a few short minutes we pulled into Les’s claim and we prepared for our subterranean adventure. Les went to switch on the generators for lighting and Pam and I donned hardhats. Now I would describe Les as a fairly direct kind of guy who has spent quite a bit of time in the mines. He asked us if either of us were afraid of heights or small spaces, and when Pam said she was a little, Les calmly said “Now don’t you worry if you freeze up on the ladder I got a cattle prod that will get you moving”. You can bet neither Pam nor I froze up on the 35’ decent into the one meter wide vertical mine shaft.
My first impression of the mine was how clean and dry it all seemed down there. Because opal dust is white and the tunnels are generally large enough to walk upright in, the mine felt much more bright, open and airy than I had imagined. Les was a wonderful guide, explaining how to find opal faults, and many of the other principals of opal mining. He dug out a few pieces of clear opal for us to inspect and painstaking led us through all the tunnels of his mine, it was like playing human ant farm. During the tour we were given an example of how the Grawin justice system worked. Les told us that people sometimes dug through into other miner’s mines to steal opal, and that these scavengers were called “rats”. When I asked what happened when a rat was caught, Les explained with a crooked smile that the rats would probably get a bump on the head and find themselves down a deep dark shaft never to be seen again.
We ended the tour with photos of Pam, Les and I all posing with the electric jack hammer. I even had a chance to operate the hammer a bit, definitely a high point of the tour for me. We crawled back out into the sunlight, still not freezing on the ladder for fear of a little prod, but the tour was not completely over. On our way back to the campsite Les took us by his personal campsite to introduce us to his “dogs”. When we arrived one of his dogs was standing on top of his motor home converted from a school bus. Now I thought to myself – how could a dog get on a bus? After a little encouragement and a little cajoling Les’s dog got off the bus and trotted over to us. Now I am thinking to myself – that dog looks an awful lot like a goat. When asked Les said, “yep me dogs is goats, ha ha ha”. It turns out that Les has two dog/goats named Goaty and Scanny. Scanny was named after some kind of tractor truck engine called a Scanny. Goaty was a little shy but Scanny was full of energy and greeted us with enthusiasm. Goaty soon came around and they each let us get in lots of petting.
After our dog/goat fix we returned to camp to find that Bob and David had completely cleaned up camp and packed up the vehicle. After a quick thank you and goodbye to Norm and Les we were on the move again, destination Dunedoo to find a country pub for the night.
Our drive to Dunneydoo was full of funny Bob and David stories and the time and miles seemed to quickly evaporate. One of the tidbits of information they shared was that in Australia dunny is a colloquialism for toilet, and of course we all know what the word doo can represent. So, in a manner of speaking we were streaking down the highway headed for the town of “Toilet Poop”.
Upon reaching the pub at Dunedoo we were all keen for a big hearty meal and something to wet our whistles. Bob and David headed to the pub and Pam and I soon joined them after cleaning up from our mining and goat/dog tour. The pub and rooms were very much like I imaged them to be. The facilities were basic and clean. The pub had a menu ranging with all sorts of BIG comfort food. I was in heaven. Pam and I settled on the steak dinner that came with a slice of cow that was over half the size of our ample plates, with the other half loaded down with chips and veg, and of course there was sauce to smother the whole lot. Just to finish off the job I ordered an appetizer of fried spring rolls. David and Bob both got the mixed grill that came with even more food including sausages, chops, beef, and maybe a possum or two. We had quite the feast for a very reasonable price. The remainder of the evening was spent sitting around telling stories while a few characters down the bar gawked at Pam and I who were obviously “not from there”. Everyone was friendly and our night at the pub added one more wonderful and genuine Aussie experience.
The next morning we were up with the chickens or chooks (as they are called in Oz). We had coffee and breakfast in town and hit the road again. The remainder of the ride home was a bit more sedate, with each of us a little talked out and content to admire the scenery and reflect on the past few days together. David dropped us off at Bob’s and we said goodbye to our new friend. Shan fed us lunch that was a much healthier caliber than our last few meals. Bob then drove us into the city and dropped our very tired carcasses off for some much needed rest.
Our journey to Lightning Ridge can be summed up as one of those “real life” experiences that can only happen through the hospitality and enthusiasm of people living in the visited country. Bob and David’s willingness to share Australia through their eyes and stories gave us insight that we never could have experienced on our own. Thanks guys!!!
News Flash - another night with a sighting of the mysterious shivering blue Bigfoot creature, teetering in women’s sandals, reported in the vicinity of Lightning Ridge.
We awoke on Thursday morning to a slightly warmer caravan. The same cup of steaming coffee awaited me, and Pam was treated to a thick rich and frothy cup of hot chocolate. Sausage replaced the bacon but otherwise breakfast was a repeat of the hearty campsite feeding we experienced on Wednesday.
After breakfast we had a group meeting and decided we would break up the return drive and spend the night in a country pub, giving Pam and I another Australian experience to take away with us. Having completed Bob and David’s business yesterday, today we were free to explore the Grawin area. Bob had made arrangements with Norm the night before for Pam and I to have a tour of an actual working opal mine. After checking in with Norm we learned we would be taken away at 13:00. To fill the gap between breakfast and our tour, Bob wanted to drive over to the veteran’s memorial.
On our way out to the memorial we stopped by the overburden mining dump where massive piles of opal dirt are dumped by the various claim holders in the area. By law any new mines must eventually return all overburden dirt to the mine shafts and this central dumping repository is where overburden can be collected to fulfill this requirement. The most interesting aspect of the dump is the “Noodlers”. A Noodler is an individual who sifts through the minors overburden dirt looking for loose opals that may have been missed in the mining process. There must have been at least ten cars owned by Noodlers in the dump’s parking lot and the giant mounds of overburden were doted with the occasional Noodler busy at work noodling. Pam and I decided we would noodle a bit when we got back to the campsite and see if we could find a long forgotten opal in the rubble.
We continued on through the maze of Opal dust roads until somehow we navigated our way to the Grawin memorial. Many of the minors in Grawin are, or have been, in the Australian armed services and right in the middle of this rugged mining landscape sits a pristine and very tastefully constructed memorial for Australian veterans. Bob and David explained that the memorial was a work in progress with many of the local minors providing labor and resources to create and enhance the memorial site. The site sits on a plot of land that has been completely cleared and a small damn has been erected providing a lakeside atmosphere. Large sandstone boulders have been moved to form a low walled outdoor chapel area, with a large center stone with the inscription “Lest we forget” carved in the rock. The smaller surrounding rocks each adorn a plaque honoring the contributions and sacrifices made by Australian solders that have fought on behalf of Australia in all of the major conflicts over the past two centuries. Outside of the chapel area is seating for the various ceremonies and services held throughout the year. Each year on ANZAC Day (Australia and New Zealand Army Corp), ANZAC Day is Australia’s Memorial Day for veteran’s, over three hundred people visit the Grawin memorial for a morning service of remembrance. Adjacent to the chapel area is a small shelter with a bar that is used for disturbing rum at sunrise, which is a tradition at the memorial site on ANZAC Day. Each year the memorial area is further developed with recent additions including a mounted prop from a World War II aircraft, various artillery shells, a huge naval ship propeller and a large cargo container that is painted camouflage green, that is in the process of being converted into a military museum. Another recent enhancement is the excavation of a barbecue area that will soon provide additional facilities to support large groups of veterans, so they may gather for fellowship. Overall we were quite impressed not only with the memorial, but also with the pride and patriotism displayed by the minors of Grawin.
After our visit to the memorial we continued to explore the region stopping at the new damn that is under construction. Next we visited the Grawin “Golf Course” which consisted of a shed, a few plastic chairs and enough barren, hole ridden, rocky ground to confuse even the most astute gopher. We also pulled over to explore an old sheep station that was no longer in use. We were amazed at the combined knowledge between Bob and David who have each spent time working in sheep stations. Basically here is how it works. The sheep are herded into a small pen with a number of doors (one for each shearer). Once the sheep are contained in the pen, the shearer’s door would be opened and a farm hand would grab a sheep under the front legs and drag it to the shearer’s stool. The shearer would then buzz off all of the fleece with a rotary cutting tool that is powered by a motor driven apparatus above. The actual shearing tool looks like a big wand with the business end looking like a rotary razor for Shrek. The sheep are actually sheared in less then a minute (shearers are paid per sheared sheep). Many a sheep actually succumb to the accidental nick and cut. When the sheep has finished being sheared they are given a swat and sent through another door to rejoin the naked heard on the paddock. Standing in the sheep station with the very distant and rank smell of lanolin in the air, it was easy to envision the station operating feverishly at capacity. I don’t image the shearing experience was quite like visiting Vidal Sassoon for the little wooly bah bahs. Now if that isn’t bad enough we were shown the gruesome hand winched crane and hook for lifting the sheep that were no longer being used for wool and had moved into the final mutton stage of their existence. If I was a sheep you better bet I would keep growing as much darn wool as possible so I didn’t end up on the mutton hook like my buddy old Lamb Chop! Maybe that is the diabolical reason for keeping the crane in the middle of the paddock area, it sure would inspire some wooly motivation…
Our visit to the sheep station was a fascinating glimpse at a business that provides tremendous industry for both Australia and New Zealand, but we had places to go and people to see, we were off to find Norm and get down into the mines for our tour.
We returned to camp and we were soon introduced to Les. Les would be our tour guide and would be taking Pam and I (just Pam and I) away to show us his working claim. We waived a slightly anxious goodbye to Bob and David and piled into Les’s Land Cruiser. Seems as though Les was also well versed in the secret navigation and driving tactics of Grawin as he effortlessly zigged and zagged, knowing precisely at what tractor to turn left and which broken down car to slow for another turn… In a few short minutes we pulled into Les’s claim and we prepared for our subterranean adventure. Les went to switch on the generators for lighting and Pam and I donned hardhats. Now I would describe Les as a fairly direct kind of guy who has spent quite a bit of time in the mines. He asked us if either of us were afraid of heights or small spaces, and when Pam said she was a little, Les calmly said “Now don’t you worry if you freeze up on the ladder I got a cattle prod that will get you moving”. You can bet neither Pam nor I froze up on the 35’ decent into the one meter wide vertical mine shaft.
My first impression of the mine was how clean and dry it all seemed down there. Because opal dust is white and the tunnels are generally large enough to walk upright in, the mine felt much more bright, open and airy than I had imagined. Les was a wonderful guide, explaining how to find opal faults, and many of the other principals of opal mining. He dug out a few pieces of clear opal for us to inspect and painstaking led us through all the tunnels of his mine, it was like playing human ant farm. During the tour we were given an example of how the Grawin justice system worked. Les told us that people sometimes dug through into other miner’s mines to steal opal, and that these scavengers were called “rats”. When I asked what happened when a rat was caught, Les explained with a crooked smile that the rats would probably get a bump on the head and find themselves down a deep dark shaft never to be seen again.
We ended the tour with photos of Pam, Les and I all posing with the electric jack hammer. I even had a chance to operate the hammer a bit, definitely a high point of the tour for me. We crawled back out into the sunlight, still not freezing on the ladder for fear of a little prod, but the tour was not completely over. On our way back to the campsite Les took us by his personal campsite to introduce us to his “dogs”. When we arrived one of his dogs was standing on top of his motor home converted from a school bus. Now I thought to myself – how could a dog get on a bus? After a little encouragement and a little cajoling Les’s dog got off the bus and trotted over to us. Now I am thinking to myself – that dog looks an awful lot like a goat. When asked Les said, “yep me dogs is goats, ha ha ha”. It turns out that Les has two dog/goats named Goaty and Scanny. Scanny was named after some kind of tractor truck engine called a Scanny. Goaty was a little shy but Scanny was full of energy and greeted us with enthusiasm. Goaty soon came around and they each let us get in lots of petting.
After our dog/goat fix we returned to camp to find that Bob and David had completely cleaned up camp and packed up the vehicle. After a quick thank you and goodbye to Norm and Les we were on the move again, destination Dunedoo to find a country pub for the night.
Our drive to Dunneydoo was full of funny Bob and David stories and the time and miles seemed to quickly evaporate. One of the tidbits of information they shared was that in Australia dunny is a colloquialism for toilet, and of course we all know what the word doo can represent. So, in a manner of speaking we were streaking down the highway headed for the town of “Toilet Poop”.
Upon reaching the pub at Dunedoo we were all keen for a big hearty meal and something to wet our whistles. Bob and David headed to the pub and Pam and I soon joined them after cleaning up from our mining and goat/dog tour. The pub and rooms were very much like I imaged them to be. The facilities were basic and clean. The pub had a menu ranging with all sorts of BIG comfort food. I was in heaven. Pam and I settled on the steak dinner that came with a slice of cow that was over half the size of our ample plates, with the other half loaded down with chips and veg, and of course there was sauce to smother the whole lot. Just to finish off the job I ordered an appetizer of fried spring rolls. David and Bob both got the mixed grill that came with even more food including sausages, chops, beef, and maybe a possum or two. We had quite the feast for a very reasonable price. The remainder of the evening was spent sitting around telling stories while a few characters down the bar gawked at Pam and I who were obviously “not from there”. Everyone was friendly and our night at the pub added one more wonderful and genuine Aussie experience.
The next morning we were up with the chickens or chooks (as they are called in Oz). We had coffee and breakfast in town and hit the road again. The remainder of the ride home was a bit more sedate, with each of us a little talked out and content to admire the scenery and reflect on the past few days together. David dropped us off at Bob’s and we said goodbye to our new friend. Shan fed us lunch that was a much healthier caliber than our last few meals. Bob then drove us into the city and dropped our very tired carcasses off for some much needed rest.
Our journey to Lightning Ridge can be summed up as one of those “real life” experiences that can only happen through the hospitality and enthusiasm of people living in the visited country. Bob and David’s willingness to share Australia through their eyes and stories gave us insight that we never could have experienced on our own. Thanks guys!!!
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