Old Friends, Old Machines and Old Times

What a magnificent way to spend a long weekend. Around here the May long weekend can often cough up great weather, and this was a superb example. Add to that the fact that it takes very little to get us to Stanthorpe anyway because it is one of our favourite places. So an invite to meet up with an old music teacher of mine on acreage outside Stanthorpe for some music making, and we were off.

Three ex-student families gathered one by one as we escaped from the Saturday activities in Brisbane. I actually spent more time driving on Saturday morning in Brisbane than I did driving to Stanthorpe.  Not really much time to do more than setup, cook and eat. Cold weather was promised for Saturday night and did it deliver! A healthy frost in the morning explained why we were so cold overnight. The first frost of the year, so a real Stanthorpe experience.

Sunday, the local markets beckoned, but to avoid needing to take three cars, I stayed home and helped with a few chores. I was richly rewarded for my efforts. With a captive audience it didn’t take Paul too long to offer rides in his collection of ancient motoring machinery. While he might be getting on in years, the ex-racer still has a twinkle in his eye and is eager to please.

Having taken a sizeable collection of instruments down ( a novelty for a camping trip I must say) I was keen to play. On Sunday we did smaller stuff, and buoyed by the experience, arranged for some local musicians to join us on Monday to mount an assault on the Spohr Grand Nonette http://www.encoreccm.org/pieces/309. This was one of my better memories from school and it turns out our hosts had a copy. She had attempted subsequent attempts at playing it at schools but our performance remains the only one achieved. The wide range of instruments required make it unlikely you will equipped to play it at any time, and then, as this time, some substitution was the order of the day.

We must do it again one day. After all, an enjoyable day like that is what all those years of hard work is about.

Can CSG and agriculture really share the land?

It is pretty hard to move in the Darling Downs area and fail to notice the multitude of gas wells springing up. Now I’m pretty used to seeing gas wells but previously this has been in remote parts of the country largely undesired by the rest of humanity.I’m talking out beyond Thargomindah at places like Eromanga and Moonie that if it wasn’t for gas and oil, pretty much nobody would be out there except rock farmers.

Now coal seam gas is pretty much a hot topic at the moment. Sadly though for the Greens who were completely unable to get any traction on the issue in the recent state election and in fact went backwards overall, but I digress. In concept CSG seems like a good idea to all but the most ardent renewable energy advocates. Historically, gas emerging from coal has been a hazard, demonstrated most dramatically recently by the Pike River mine explosion in New Zealand. It makes underground mining a dangerous prospect. However, you can leave the coal underground and just extract the gas through a small bore-hole. Seems like a good idea.

That’s the theory. In practice it is a little different. If you go to all of the trouble of digging a well then you want to extract the maximum amount of gas from it you can. Gas also has a tendency to escape into the atmosphere unless there is a good geological seal keeping it in. That kind of seal is also good at retaining water. Historically, the value of the water has been exploited in those areas before that of the gas. That water has been used for agriculture and in the case of the Darling Downs, the land has considerable agricultural value.

If you extract gas from an underground reserve, then something has to go in to replace what has been taken out. If the gas escapes under pressure, then the release of the pressure could lead to unnatural seismic activity. If it needs to be pumped out, then you need to pump something in to replace it. In general water is used to replace the gas. Water is also used as the principal ingredient in hydraulic fracturing of the rock, or “fracking” to maximise the release of gas from the rock.

In addition, we think we have a general handle on the geology that leads to gas. Less certain, and more controversially, we aren’t certain how underground water is created, stored and replenished. Indeed, there are some that argue that in some cases underground water is “fossilised” and not part of a shorter-term renewal cycle. This is where one of the controversies of the CSG extraction comes in. Because water and gas share geology and water is used by agriculture and gas in mining there is a tussle over how best that water may be used or shared.

There are very great questions in the minds of those that promote agriculture, a “renewable” use of the land, that the interaction of CSG extraction with ground and surface water may result in permanent changes to the water table, and contamination of the resource. Their argument is that we cannot be certain. In that context, the one-time use of the land for CSG extraction should not be allowed to disturb the ongoing use for agriculture.

And it is a not unreasonable concern given the range of things we don’t know. Lake Broadwater is an ephemeral lake, meaning it dries out at times. We know in times of drought it dries, and in times of floods, it fills. However, the exact conditions in which it fills and empties is not well understood and it is not a great leap to believe that altering underground water table conditions could change the behaviour of this lake.

So much for water. What about the land? It turns out I had an opportunity to get out in a truck to retrieve a water truck damaged on a CSG site. The land was typical black soil plain cleared for agriculture. This patch was being developed for a gas well. Not only was the drilling pad being covered in basically road construction materials (an area of perhaps a couple of hectares) but also a road was being constructed to access the well, in much the same fashion. In such a way probably several hectares of agricultural land is now buried in road-base for each well. I imagine this may be rehabilitated when the gas is exhausted and that is a good thing, but in the meantime that may be a not insignificant portion of the land now out of agricultural service. And what happens if the gas company goes broke in the meantime?

On balance is it a good thing? Well, I don’t think I know anything like enough about it to judge, but I think I do know enough to believe there is good reason for caution. It is easy to see that a “gas rush” could do a lot of irreversible damage, and it could also be safe if done properly. It is also apparent that we will look pretty stupid if in our rush to exploit the apparent reserve, we can’t feed ourselves either now or in the future.

Tying things together

It’s funny how some totally disparate things in life can suddenly be brought together at the most unexpected of times.

What does primary school history, learning to fly and Jimbour Station on the Darling Downs have in common? In short, me. As a young lad when history was part of the primary school curriculum (as distinct from NAPLAN, but don’t get me started) I did a project on explorer Ludwig Leichhardt (see, I can still spell it!). In true lack of perspective style typical of a pre-teen, I was curious to learn that his jumping-off point for his exploration was a station on the Darling Downs. The question that leapt to mind was why didn’t he pick something further out. Of course the answer is simple. At the time Jimbour Station was the northern-most outpost of the European frontier. Even though I was doing a project on exploration I failed to realise that you explore because you don’t know what is further out!

Now what about learning to fly. This was totally unexpected. My Sis-in-law spent some time around 10 years ago learning to fly. Early in this process she considered learning from Hempel’s Aviation and may have taken a trial flight with them. Subsequently Barry Hempel was killed in an aerobatics accident and there remained questions as to whether he was a fit-and-proper person to hold a pilots licence. Anyway, Jimbour station has a private airstrip (bitumen no less) and hangar right in front of the house. Jimbour served a prominent role in the early development of aviation in the country. Barry Hempel and Nancy Bird Walton were both mentioned in interpretive signage around the property.

So not only did our casual decision to visit Jimbour Station result in a totally unexpected discovery of a stately country home, we actually had rather more of a link to it than we may have imagined.

Coexistence

Even when we were once-a-year campers, that once a year was Easter. I’m sure we are not alone in that either. Easter brings out all sorts of people, and because there are lots of people out and about, lots of interesting places that are normally quiet, become hives of humanity.

Now many of these places attract people of a certain interest and that is only natural. If you go to a beach, then you would expect people who like go to a beach, if you can generalise. Some places have a range of attractions, and so continuing my hypothesis, are prone to attract a range of people.

And so we come to Lake Broadwater. In terms of attractions, we have a lake, power boat permits, broad-acre campgrounds, bush camping and birdlife. We also have families, youths, water-skiers, birds and other wildlife.

So what happens?

Well, you have ski boats mingling with swimmers. You have testosterone and alcohol-fuelled youths letting off romantic frustrations in utes sharing roads with kids on bikes. You have V8-powered boats disturbing nesting birds. You have unsupervised kids emptying rainwater tanks to watch the water running across the dry earth making all sorts of fascinating channels.

And how does it all end up?

Surprisingly well. When you consider all of the possibilities for disaster in the above mix you really have to think it quite marvellous that the weekend went off without a hitch. Perhaps we were all lucky, and every time you read of a disaster you realise just how close you are at any time you can be when your time is up.

Now we could get all up tight and paranoid and perhaps that is the right thing to do. That might be safer, but is it as much fun, and is it enjoyment that we are lacking most in our lives today?

It reminded me of a philosophy I once read which related to programming communications protocols between computers, but may be equally applicable to life more generally. It suggested to be liberal in what you will accept and conservative in what you expect of others. Perhaps it is a dose of that that makes Easter work so well.

Waterlillies

I’m no Monet, and Chinchilla is not Kakadu, but you can still find waterlillies in the most unexpected places. These are in Charlies Creek which runs through Chinchilla.

 

A brief look at a short history

Jondaryan Woolshed is now a living museum having served its purpose in the glory days of the wool industry in the Darling Downs area.

At one stage Jondaryan was one of those places that couldn’t decide whether it was a sheep station or a township. Up to 350 people lived and worked in the area and there were shops, pubs and services. While a good many tried to make a success of a pastoral industry in the area it took some decades for the original landholding to be expanded by acquisition to a viable size for things to really take off. At one stage it was the largest working shearing shed in Australia.

Then, after such a long gestation, a combination of factors led to its demise almost as quick (or as slow) as its rise. Jondaryan thrived as a railhead with the coming of the railway in the 1860s, and it was probably that factor ahead of all others that ensured its purpose and led to the thriving of the township that had taken some decades to get off the ground. In contrast, as much as that initial decision was far-sighted, when the time came for railway expansion, the leaders of Jondaryan shunned further development and so the railway expanded from Oakey instead. Today Oakey is the town and Jondaryan the museum.

It’s easy to think the farming industry has a long history here on the Darling Downs but perhaps that isn’t so true. After taking so long to get off the ground, the glory days were the 1870s – 1890s. The coming of organised labour then two world wars served to undermine further expansion. Government policy, and the provision of land to returned soldiers meant that large scale pastoral use gave way to more intensive cropping.

In that sense the Darling Downs as we know it today is really only about 50 years old. The past before that is symbolised by the empty shearing shed standing on 12 acres of what was previously hundreds of thousands. An even briefer period of dairying is remembered in the form of a cheese factory museum in the intervening period. Today we can look forward and wonder what the coal seam gas industry may make of the area.

The Darling Downs is on a cusp, but historically that is not uncommon. The area, with all its possibilities, is still looking for its niche.

On the road again

It hardly seems possible that a whole term could have gone by since we were last away. However, gone it has, and with everything that has happened in that time, we are all ready for a bit of R&R.

Easter has always been about friends and family and camping, and so this year we have again managed to combine all three. The destination – points around Dalby not quite three hours west of home and so all very convenient. As it happens, all very civilised as well.

The plan – a couple of nights at Jondaryan Woolshed, a handful of nights at Lake Broadwater, then perhaps Chinchilla or somewhere else on the way home.

 

Sunrise

Had to do it once, and as today is the final morning…

 

I do like to be beside the seaside

Despite my best efforts at a lazy start to the day, my family conspired against me. After convincing Elliot that 6:15 was in fact 3am, when he finally worked it out he wanted to spend the next little while proving how clever he was. And that was just one…

Slow starts aside, the sea beckoned. A cold southerly change came roaring through around 9pm last night and so the swim was dealt with rather rapidly. No wonder southerners think the Gold Coast is great. The swim marked a brief punctuation to an otherwise extended breakfast  which continued most of the morning.

A small piece of excitement raised a crowd when a sting ray came into the shallows and prowled amongst the breakers. That served as a brief entree to the main course which came later when three dolphins came in to feed, then played amongst the groups of swimmers close to shore.

It seems my attempts at getting a sleep would be futile, so we segued an extended breakfast into an early lunch. That allowed us to explore up and down the coast a little. This part of the coast has dramatic headlands separated by wide sweeps of beach. We clambered up and down and around a few of them before heading back to camp.

Another swim, and rather more successful this time. The southerly change was producing big seas on the open beaches and around the headlands, but at the camp the beach faces north and so is protected. Once the initial shock of the cold was overcome, it was very pleasant to bob around and catch the occasional wave.