A canary in the
coal mine
Tom Lowry
memorial, 105km, Collie
When
Surgeon Alexander Collie (1793-1835) explored the inland of Western Australia
in the early 19th century he probably did not anticipate that a town
would be named after him: Collie, in 1829. The area was covered with forests
and thought to be good as pasturelands and for timber production. A decent
living for the small middleman. Wealth was out of the question, although their
way of live is close to the quality of living we aspire in these stressful
Metropolitan times. In that respect the early Ozzies were wealthy people.
But
when in 1883 coal was discovered around Collie, people quickly realised that
timber and pastureland was something they could do with less: Coal was much
more valuable. Somewhat hidden in the Archean rocks (over 2.5 Billion years
old) of the Yilgarn Craton, the coal was found in a Permian sub-basin. The
basin is considered to be a outlier of the Perth basin, and separated from the main
basin due to erosion and movements in the sub-cratons of the Australian craton.
Men put
on their tough coat and dug into the mines. Carrying their own explosives, they
made their way through dark tunnels, using light oil for a flickering lifeline.
Lives were lost, either in the coalmines due to collapsing tunnels, erroneously
placed explosives or just tough fate. Or years after due to inhaling coal dust.
Unions improved the working conditions hugely but when times got really tough
(WWII and its aftermath, when coal was desperately needed to rebuild the
country) the conditions were appalling and dangerous. Only in 1994 the
underground mining technique was abolished.
From
being a humble town, it rapidly grew into a major supplier in coal for the
state, which was so vital for power production in railways and shipping and for
the generation of electricity. Still now coal is transported by rail from
Collie. http://www.collierivervalley.org.au/about.htm
Geological map of the area around
Collie, indicating mines all over the place. Early exploration drilling for
coal layers. http://www.ga.gov.au/map/#geology
Collie now and back then. Many have
perished for the quality of live we currently enjoy
Driving
through the main street of Collie, I can almost taste the history. The hard
working Australian trying to make a living, far away from the coast, far away
from civilisation as we define it: Perth. I can barely imagine what Kalgoorlie,
Menzies or Leonora will be like, or even more distant gold mines, a thousand
kilometres inland. It breathes the atmosphere of the Twin Peaks series, a
TV-series by David Lynch with so many spoken and visual layers that the average
soap-addict really had to make an effort to follow the plot. Collie at dawn
breathes emptiness and forsakenness, but therefore more likely to hide some
pretty interesting things.
These
days Collie’s coal is used for the Muja and Collie coal-fired power stations
that supply South-West Australia with electricity. What would they do with
their CO2-emission? How many coal-fired stations does Australia have anyway?
And what is the way forward with those? Australia is sitting on the 5th
largest proven coal reserves in the world. What is the real plan
as far as production is concerned, being by far the biggest exporter of coal
(32% of the world export).
A
quick scan on the interest is making my eye browse frown:
-
According to (dated) WWF-research, one third of
Australia’s CO2 emission is generated by electricity generation, of which 97%
is produced by 24 coal-fired power stations.
-
Wikipedia reveals 21 proposals
for expansion or to be build coal-fired power stations.
-
The Rudd government has postponed the introduction of the Emission
Trading Scheme by one year, now scheduled for mid-2011). The upper limit for
CO2 reduction has been increased to 25% in 2020 compared to 2000, but only if
there will be global agreement to stabilise CO2 levels at 450 parts per million
or less. That was sufficient to get the Greens convinced that 25% is almost as
good as their 40%. The ETS will pass parliament. The 450ppm is getting very
close to the assumed irreversible 500…
-
Meanwhile, on the 11th of May, the Western Australian Government announces that it will
spend more than $260 million to boost the state's power supplies over the next
few years, to avoid power black outs in the 2011 and 2012 summers. The Barnett
government will buy two gas turbines and enter into a public-private
partnership for a $100 million refurbishment of the Collie Muja A and B
coalfire power stations. So what kind of CO2-enhibbeting quick-fix refurbishment
will that be?
And suddenly the outside world gets
very close to sleeping Collie. I hope Obama is going to be re-elected in 2012…
Finding
my hotel is not completely straightforward: the address has a number, but in
the street itself there is no house with any number. Even asking at a take-away
does not help: people don’t know which number their own house is at. The name
suffices in the end: Collie is so small that numbers don’t matter. I check in
at the Club Motel. A conglomerate of liquor store, ATM, convenient store, bar
and since some shed-like row of bricks is currently underused, a hotel as well.
But in all fairness, it does fit in the setting: a little dusty, at the far end
of town, hardly any customer around. Here the tired 19th-century
coal digger, commuting from Perth or the Southwest every two months puts his
feet up every night. Has a cold beer at the bar, tries to stay away from the
unavoidable brawl, and has a well-deserved rest before an early, very early,
start the next day. I do feel at home somehow.
I
make a stroll through town and start to get hungry. But it is soon clear that
if I don’t want to end up ordering take-away, I need to have my diner at the
only restaurant that is open. The king size portion is delicious and I am
greeted with “thank you son” when I head home.
When
I prepare myself for an early night, the liquor drive through/bar/motel
suddenly shows its real face; or rather, its lack of wall isolation. Earplugs
in these situations are your only friends.
The
next morning I lack the urge to hit it. Over-confidence is peeking over the
fence: I don’t need to be at my best to be in the bunch. May be true, but a
little bit more focus would be nice. The start of the race is calm. Logan hits
it a couple of times from the start, but doesn’t get away. I’m tucked in, cosy
and feeling good in the peleton. Let the rest do the work, I am going to enjoy
the scenery for a while. I have never felt like this before: the ability to
have a bit of a break, check out bikes or analyse who is attacking. Until now I
always sat in the high heartbeat numbers and either thought how on earth I was
going to hold on, or how long I was going to be able to sustain this pace.
Probably the pace here was leisurely but I surely enjoyed it. In the 2nd
lap of the five 21km-laps, Michael Frieberg hints that I should have a go: “see
what happens”. As if his word is truth, I follow his instructions. The guy is
19, but a huge talent and part of the team track pursuit that broke the
national record early 2009. Half way through the climb I see to my amazement
that I am away with 4 others, all different jerseys and the peleton is not
doing much. “Well, this must be the break away then, with all these colours”, I
conclude and make big efforts to increase the gap. Together with Elliot Wells,
Michael Verheyen, Chris Glasby and Russell Brooks we stay clear. My Aussie
Crates is ‘managing’ the peleton well, and especially Rowan is all over Logan
when he realises that he has missed the break, and tries to bridge the gap.
Russell
and Chris are not doing much. When they show up at the front the pace slows. I
try to encourage Chrus to do a little more work, as my mind gets suspicious
that he is saving his energy to the final bit. But it’s clear he is not up for
it: Elliot, Michael and I will have to do it ourselves. In lap 4 suddenly two
cyclists appear at the back. Out of instinct I tell them to buzz off. Some
touring B-graders who desperately are trying to hang on. But then I see the
face of team companion Michael Frieberg appearing beside me. I am honestly
surprised! How on earth did he do that?
Suddenly
Elliot, Michael and Russell start to look back more often. I get annoyed: not
the-looking-back mode please. In round 5, Michael places an attack in a
descend, but is caught again. Immediately after that I try to break away on a
climb, knowing there is more or less 10k to go. Michael en Elliot can follow,
but the rest can’t, and Michael doesn’t. Great team play, and his goals are in
another realm anyway…
The
three of us pace towards the last climb, and here Elliot quickens his pace.
Michael can follow, and to my surprise it is too much for me. My legs scream,
and I can’t convince my mind to push beyond the limit. I can see the top, but
the estimated distance to it is too much pain for my muscles to bear.
‘I’ll
hunt them down on the last flat bit’, is my excuse not to push further.
In
the last couple of kilometres I do hunt them down, and with 200m to go
I’m almost back on the wheel. But in a lost position, as they are gearing up
for the sprint. And I am pretty useless in a sprint after a pursuit like that.
But it’s my first podium in a road race, and more over $110 for Warchild. And
that matters.
Results
can be found here
The
real joy of the day arrives out of the blue: at a roundabout, halfway Dardanup
and Lowden, with no house in sight for kilometres, I discover Gnoms village. A
gathering of gnomes, gazing at the lost traveller that is passing by. Tens,
hundreds or may be even a thousand are neatly put together, with no reason
whatsoever. I ask a couple that seems as surprised as I am:
“What
is this place? Did you know about this?”
“Yeah,
it is quite famous, but completely odd”
“This
is fantastic, I’ve never seen something like it”
“It’s
pretty isn’t it? Unfortunately sometimes gnomes are smashed by urchins. And the
section back there sometimes is flooded, and the gnomes just …”
I
have to make an effort not to laugh. The thought of helpless drowning gnomes
because of a flooding river is almost too much.
