We escaped the heat of Coober Pedy for the same here 366 kilometres further south. Our camp tonight is on the junction of the Stuart Highway and the road to Woomera, Roxby Downs and Andamooka.
Before we left the Opal Centre of the World, we topped up with diesel and I popped back in to the Underground Bookshop to see Mark. Yesterday I had spent time trying to track down someone to print my New Zealand Election voting papers off my USB stick, without success. There seems to be a blanket law in Coober Pedy that no foreigner shall insert a USB into any computer. I could well understand their caution but for me, it was proving a frustration. However I suggested to the proprietor of the bookstore that I email the file to him and that he then print it off. “No problem”, he said and so I did. This morning when I called in to see this wonderful man who doubles as a funeral director and a Shell distributor, he promptly printed off the four pages and refused to take any monetary compensation. I thanked him profusely, and in return for this wonderful service can only recommend any visitor to Coober Pedy to visit this excellent store, linger in the cool of the earth, peruse his well-stocked shelves and find a book to suit your needs, be it used or new.
We paused thrice on the highway leaving the area, firstly at the information bay regarding the evolution of the opal mining blower machinery. The most distinctive piece of machinery on the opal fields is a truck with a crane like arrangement leading up to a concrete mixer at the end. These rather weird machines are patched together from an assortment of metal bits and add to the surreal landscape.
 |
| Farewell to Coober Pedy |
A chap by the name of Mario Pagnon used a machine in 1970 that sucked dirt straight into a fan, creating a mini dust storm every time it was turned on. The blower eventually blew itself up on the Eleven Mile Opal Field.
Another fellow named Otto Hardweg adjusted the accelerator on his blower until he had it sounding like a jet engine. The cast iron housing exploded and flew in all directions. He settled for an elevator to remove the dirt from his mine.
Warwick Goldsworthy’s blower was particularly sensitive to fine dirt. To overcome the problem he sprayed the dirt with water. This resulted in mud being flung high in every direction, much to the discomfort of anyone who dared approach his mine.
Obviously a cartoon style documentary could be made about the ingenious creativity of the miners of Coober Pedy! Comic or not, Coober Pedy miners are now recognised for investing and developing the machinery used to find the elusive gem.
Interestingly Murray Joynt, a fitter and turner from New Zealand, designed and built a blower with a hopper attached in 1970. This is the prototype of modern blowers used today.
Our second stop was at the John McDouell Stuart Memorial on the roadside, celebrating this renowned explorer of Australia. We had paused at another such memorial north of Alice Springs on the Stuart Highway, and while we continue our way on this road, I would not be entirely surprised if we should come to yet another. Australian’s just cannot say enough about this man!
The third and last stop was at the memorial to Willie Hutchison, the discoverer of the Cooper Pedy opal. Today we learned that he and his father never did reap any reward from this discovery which did not surprise us. This seems so often to be the outcome of such discoveries. We also learned to our dismay that this boy did not even live long enough to celebrate his discovery from afar; he drowned in a river five years later while droving cattle in Queensland.
The road south continued through flat desolate land, until after about one hundred kilometres where there was a little more vegetation in evidence. The colours of both soil and vegetation; blue grey, green, yellow, red and orange, was quite spectacular, however it continued to appal me that we were apparently in sheep country. Soon the “Beware cattle and kangaroos crossing” signs changed to “Beware cattle and sheep crossing”. The sparse tussock like grass and scrubby like plants no more than ankle height do not make for attractive fodder, but then I am seeing this from New Zealand eyes. But for all this, we saw no sheep, and the only cattle, except for two grazing in the far distance, were those on the side of the road, keeping the road killed roos company.
We stopped for lunch at a rest area named for the nearby station, Bon Bon, a singularly uninteresting place, but off the road. Not far from this area we came upon a Flying Doctor landing strip; the middle of the road which had been widened big enough to probably take a Hercules aircraft. We imagined how it would be driving along, pulling the caravan and suddenly coming nose to nose with a landing aircraft.
About fifty kilometres west of the Woomera turnoff, we came upon the first of a string of lakes; Lake Hart to our north, still with quite a lot of water , although a fellow traveller told us it was much lower than four weeks ago. We did briefly consider staying there but the flies were bad, and so we moved on, soon stopping again to look over a corner of Island Lagoon, a large lake almost dry, just great salt plains.
 |
| Lake Hart |
At Pimba, we called into the roadhouse area briefly, but then decided to go the six kilometres on to Woomera. The “Village” as it is known was established as part of the joint British Australian project to provide accommodation and amenities for those using the range – a role Woomera has today. Until 1982 access to the town was restricted from the public. Today while still administered by the Department of Defence, Woomera welcomes visitors and we shall endeavour to discovour its secrets tomorrow.
The testing range extends across the Great Victorian Desert into Western Australia and originally encompassed some 270,000 square kilometres. Today it covers only 127,000 square kilometres and is known as the Woomera Prohibited Area. Permits are required to enter this area except for those travelling on the Stuart Highway or the circuit via William’s Creek. Any deviation is forbidden, even today.
After checking out the Visitor Centre, posting my completed voting papers off and buying today’s Australian newspaper, we decided we would not risk camping in the car park beside the theatre even though it was suggested in the CMCA bible; the "No Camping" sign seemed to suggest otherwise. And so we returned to Pimba and will explore Woomera tomorrow.
Pimba is little more than Spud’s Roadhouse. Apparently it was once a shanty support settlement for Woomera, housing those who were not welcome in Woomera. In the early sixties, the town was formerly surveyed and an area of one square kilometre was pegged out as the township. Sitting here in this very dusty and gusty roadhouse yard, it is hard to believe that there was much more here.
I am proud to see that my father's (Mario) invention has been recognised. At the time, he was recognised by Sir Mark Oliphant as a SA mining pioneer and inventor. My father never stopped inventing....
ReplyDelete