27 August 2012 - Duaringa Rest Area, Capricorn Highway, Queensland

After so many many months of excellent telephone and internet reception, we are struggling to cope with the fact that we are totally incommunicado much of the time as we travel inland again. Obviously we have been too spoiled for too long! However I am not struggling with rationing water and battery power; it is simply such a joy to be bush camping once again. And so here we are this late afternoon settled into another of these amazing rest areas, this time well back from the road and at least a kilometre from the busy western coal rail line. About an hour ago, we counted about a dozen parties in; I suspect there is now at least double that number, and it is not yet five o’clock. Yellow faced honey eaters have joined the throng of birds about us, these not seen for some time; they are quite lovely.

We left our Dululu camp early this morning, not quite sure how the day would pan out, but set on visiting famous Mount Morgan. This once largest gold mine in the southern hemisphere was just a thirty two kilometre run eastwards and so we were there about nine o'clock. Mount Morgan has been heritage listed since 1981 and we do think that everyone in the town has taken that completely to heart and absolutely literally, ceasing all maintenance or upgrade work since then. We called into the newsagent to pick up a newspaper and found it to be in a dingy dark old building with nothing to suggest the modern and attractive displays one sees in all other such businesses. We also were unable to source any national paper at all; apparently their supply had sold out in the first half hour. The superette was busy but dowdy and unattractive. The locals we spoke to were all very friendly and helpful, although those not behind counters servicing the public, seemed to be idle and as dowdy as the buildings and businesses. We were later told that the population is currently about 3,000 and given this fact, we decided that the facilities and services for a population of that size were abysmal.

We had found a flat park in a street some distance from the town centre and walked up the street in the sunshine and along the main road for some distance to the Information Centre located in the Rail Museum. The women behind the desk could not have been more helpful, explaining in some detail all the points on the mud map. It seemed that the old mine is out of bounds and out of sight to all but those who pay for a commercial tour of the place and those few government workers cleaning up any residual poisons from the mining process. We were encouraged to visit the dam where we could enjoy our picnic however when we drove the couple of kilometres up there, we found little space for parking even though there was hardly anyone else there.

This same woman encouraged us to visit the museum (not the one she was tending) because it really was the best of its kind in the entire region. We did so and did learn much about Mount Morgan and its one hundred year long mining history however it, the museum, like the rest of the town, appears to have gone into a holding mode since 1981.

In short, we were disappointed with Mount Morgan and to any reader from Mount Morgan, I apologise. I would also point out to them that the three little girls I stepped over in the Ladies loo were no more sick than you or I, and should have been at school. They looked even more sprightly when we encountered them later walking in the sunshine eating sweets from the shop. I fear that they will end their days in Mount Morgan doing little with their lives unless they get well very soon.

Perhaps it is appropriate to mention here some population statistics highlighted in the museum:

The Aboriginal population is now far greater in Mount Morgan than many other areas in Australia. In the 2006 National census, Mount Morgan had 2,984 residents. Of these 10.8% were Indigenous compared with 5.7% for the nearby city of Rockhampton and 2.3% for all of Australia.

To quickly explain Mount Morgan’s claim to fame with special reference to its inception: 

Way back in 1870, a stockman by the name of MacKinlay found gold bearing rocks near the top of Ironstone Mountain. He kept this a secret and insisted his family do the same. From time to time, he whittled a little of the gold off but this was all a bit of a hobby; he was a stockman not a miner. One of his daughters became friendly with a local and divulged the family secret; she was immediately banished. The young couple married and Sandy Gordon, the young man, was working at a mine until he was sacked for drunkenness. His wife begged his employer, Fred Morgan, to reinstate her husband on the condition that Sandy would show him something worth his while. And so the secret was out and the Morgan’s registered the claim in 1882 and thus the mining enterprise began.

In 1923 there was a major miners’ strike which ended up with a fire in the mine. This was eventually extinguished but the machinery was ruined and the mine closed. In 1929 a new outfit resurrected the mine as an opencast mine and work continued until about 1981. There is talk that the mine could have another chance at life by way of the tailings being sifted through with more modern technology, but for now it is only talk.

We left Mount Morgan soon after 11.30 am, heading back to Dululu, then turned north, before joining the Capricorn Highway. This highway is greatly superior to the Burnett Highway and much busier. Dozens of trucks carrying cattle toward the Gracemere Saleyards passed us and all about us were the vast grazing lands of the Central Highlands.

We found a spot on this large rest area then set off for a walk about this town of just 247 people, around the incredibly wide streets and well-kept if modest houses. There is a roadhouse where we filled with diesel, a school, a post office, a police station, a hotel and the council office which doubles as the library. Just a block from this camp, we saw trees in a couple of private yards black with upside down flying foxes. We have since learned there are 35,000 of them and the council refuses to move them on because there are a number of pregnant females and young among them. I wonder if we will hear them tonight? I wonder if they will be noisier than the crowd of honeyeaters who are making an absolute raucous outside our caravan door?