Enough of this lazing around the pool...time for sightseeing once more. Tully and the tour of the sugar mill is on today's agenda.
Tully is a small town with a big reputation in the sugar industry. It is dominated by two things...Mount Tyson in the topographical sense and the sugar mill from the economic perspective. And of course, climate wise, rain, rain, rain. As you probably know, Tully bears the reputation as being the wettest place in Australia (challenged only by nearby Babinda for the title!). The moist, warm winds of the wet season course in from the nearby Coral Sea to be hoisted up over Mount Tyson and rapidly cooled. Massive dumps of rain are the inevitable result. Impressive as the annual average of 4,000 mills may be, this is nothing compared to 1950 when the town was blessed with an Australian record rainfall of 7.9 metres. The enormity of this dump is aptly demonstrated by the second of the area's two big things (remember the Cassowary). The 7.9 metre high 'Big Gumboot' greets all visitors to Tully.
Reluctant as she is to be included in photos (I spend a lot of time trying to sneak up!) I managed to persuade Liz to pose here as a means of providing some perspective as to the height of this record of that massive rainfall.
Tully's main street is modest and like all areas of the town, dominated by Mount Tyson.
Many buildings in the town are still in varying states of reconstruction or disrepair as a result of the visit by cyclone Yasi which smashed into Tully at 300 kph. Fortunately the stronger buildings survived, such as the fine old State School.
I commented earlier on the dominance of the sugar mill in Tully. In fact throughout our visit, I was reminded of towns like Broken Hill and Mount Isa where, despite the extraordinary differences between these dry mining towns and Tully, they have one thing in common......complete economic dependence on one industry.
Tully Sugar produces only raw sugar which is then exported world wide from Mourilyan Harbour. The crushing season, which usually runs between 15 -20 weeks, results in an output which can vary greatly depending on climatic and other conditions. In 2005, for example, Tully Sugar produced 303,615 tonnes of raw sugar from a crush of 2.5 million tonnes of cane. The ongoing effects of Yasi have reduced the estimate for this current crush to 160,000 tonnes.
The industry statistics are impressive. The 'billets' of cut cane are delivered directly to the mill on a local network of 280 kms of 610 mm gauge rail track on which 14 locomotives of varying sizes haul the cane bins. During the crushing season the mill employs over 300 to manage the continuous 24 hour operation. 90,000 tonnes of cane are crushed weekly. Even in the 'off' season, 220 personnel are employed in maintenance operations.
Cane is presented at the mill in rakes of bins all of which carry a grower consignment note. These bins run on a continuous track which passes through the receiving hopper,
The industry statistics are impressive. The 'billets' of cut cane are delivered directly to the mill on a local network of 280 kms of 610 mm gauge rail track on which 14 locomotives of varying sizes haul the cane bins. During the crushing season the mill employs over 300 to manage the continuous 24 hour operation. 90,000 tonnes of cane are crushed weekly. Even in the 'off' season, 220 personnel are employed in maintenance operations.
Cane is presented at the mill in rakes of bins all of which carry a grower consignment note. These bins run on a continuous track which passes through the receiving hopper,
where the contents of each uncoupled bin is upended into a receiving hopper. The weight of received cane is recorded against each grower's consignment note.
From here the cane billets are passed through the 'shredder' where massive bladed rollers reduce the stalks to a fibrous mass. From here the shredded cane is passed through the first of five multi-roller crushers which squeeze out the juice. At the first of these
The end result of the crushing process is 'bagasse', a relatively dry fibre which is then used to fire the plant boilers. These produce sufficient steam to power the entire plant, including electricity generating turbines which not only satisfy the mill's electrical needs but return $5 million worth of power to the general grid. Bagasse is stored at the end of each crushing season and used in conjunction with coal to fire the boilers at the beginning of the next. The mill operates virtually independently of external energy sources during the crushing season.
Recycling is a serious business at Tully Sugar. Not only do they generate and export power using the waste cane material, mud which results from the juice filtering process and which is high in nutrients, is returned to the growers for use as fertiliser.
The juice emerges from the crushing process as a dark, muddy looking river, full of soil and other undesirable material. (it does look and smell horrible).
Indeed, the entire plant has a real 'Dickensian' feel to it. Steam hisses from grates and pipe ends, water drips from pressure joints, the air is filled with plant fibres and the din is deafening, but for all this the mill workers have obviously retained their sense of humour.
The impurities are removed from the juice by the addition of lime under heat before it concentrated into a thick syrup by boiling off the water in the evaporating plant. This syrup is then passed into a vacuum pan where fine 'seed' crystal is introduced. Water is driven off by heating the pans, and syrup is constantly added until sugar deposited on the seed material grows to a crystal approximately 1 mm square.
From here the sugar crystals are separated from the syrup in 'Fugals'. These look for all the world like oversized spin dryers and they act in exactly the same way.
The charges of dark syrup are spun at high speed. The liquid molasses is flung out of the perforated baskets and the raw sugar crystals remain lining the basket walls. A short burst of hot water removes any remaining sticky molasses. (the sugar can be seen on the basket wall in this shot) This operation is repeated about every two minutes.
The damp sugar crystals are scraped off the fugal walls and dumped onto a continuous conveyor belt and taken to be further dried to enhance storage life. Because of the levels of humidity in Tully, huge air conditioners supply the necessary cool dry air.
The by product molasses is reduced to pellet form and transported away from the mill in road trains filled from a huge overhead storage hopper for use primarily as stock food.
All of Tully Sugar's product is 'raw' sugar. Further refinement is necessary to produce the table, caster and icing sugars with which we are familiar. The entire extraction process is relatively simple in theory, but to see the size of the actual plant used in this operation was a real eye-opener.
Sugar is not the only business in which Tully Sugar is engaged. Diversification of the company operations has to date included the installation of the 10 MW alternator which produces electricity for the grid and the recent construction of a large shopping centre near the mill.
The present population of Tully is far smaller than that during the days when cane was cut by hand and many of the cutters made Tully their home. Cane cutting was always hard, back breaking work. A good cutter could average the extraordinary total of over ten tons per day.
For many years the process of firing the cane fields to destroy the inhabitant rats and snakes was not practised with the result that infections from rat borne diseases and fatal snake bites were not uncommon. Indeed strike action by the cutters was necessary to finally force the introduction of this practice (rarer these days because of mechanical harvesting methods).
A series of statutes depicting the earlier planting and harvesting methods have been commissioned by Tully Sugar and now grace the front area of the mill.
Annoyingly, protection from vandalism means that these can only be photographed individually through strategically located lined holes in the protective chain wire fence rather than as a panorama.
Apparently during this era Friday nights in Tully were socially interesting, to say the least. A combination of the end of a very hard week's dirty, physically demanding and sometimes dangerous work, a pocket full of spending money, single man status and a general disregard for, or ignorance of, any modicum of social graces, resulted in what has been described as a constant rolling fight up and down the main street. These would apparently continue until all the protagonists had either been removed to the police cells for the night or the pubs had shut. Special council teams were assigned to clean up the mess each Saturday morning.
I am pleased to report that modern Tully hosts a much more civilised Friday evening, although we did note in our wanderings that a significant number of the population of the town exhibited a 'certain demeanour'!
I am pleased to report that modern Tully hosts a much more civilised Friday evening, although we did note in our wanderings that a significant number of the population of the town exhibited a 'certain demeanour'!
Although it too is a town based on the sugar cane industry, Innisfail presents a real contrast. "Art Deco In The Tropics" proclaim the promotional brochures. And it is true...and extraordinary!
But before we embark on our tour of the incredible architecture of Innisfail (to us at least), a potted history of the town.
White folk first came to this area as they staggered ashore from the wreck of the sailing ship 'The Maria' in 1872. They were eventually rescued from the deprivations of the wild by one police Sub-Inspector Johnstone, who, with a stunning lack of modesty, named the large river in the area after himself. Don't you just love self-promotion. The only thing which amazes me is that, given the pomp and self-importance which was the hallmark of many of our colonial forebears, the name of a mere public servant has stuck.
On a more practical note, Johnstone did note the apparent fertility of the area as a result of which sugar cane plantations were initially established by an Irishman, Thomas FitzGerald, in 1879. This also marked the beginning of that shameful era of Australian history where the necessary labour for these endeavours was supplied by the 'blackbirded' South Sea Islanders, know as Kanakas. It remains a matter of historical argument as to whether these 'indentured labourers' were employees or slaves. The latter is the more generally accepted position, notwithstanding certain payments made to these men.
Innisfail, a derivation of the mythical name for Ireland, 'Innisfallen', was initially knows as Geralton. Why change, you ask. Well, believe it or not, it appears that a significant number of early sailing skippers confused their port of destination in Geralton, Western Australia, with Geralton, Queensland! How safe would one feel with a captain of this navigational talent? It's amazing they were able to find their way out of the English Channel. Making landfall in Australia must have only been possible to these challenged seafarers because of its huge size! Staggering as it may seem, the mistake was perpetrated with sufficient regularity to drive the name change in 1910. (I am still struggling with this!)
Italian, Greek, Maltese, Yugoslav, Filipino, Indian and Pakistani migrants later flocked to this area to work the cane fields, an ethnic mix which can still be seen in Innisfail today.
The river front now boasts a commemorative statue to these folk.
But to the buildings. Let us start with the most impressive, the Town Hall.
What an impressive lump of a building! Even the foyer maintains the Art Deco theme in the ceiling rose, the light fittings and the leadlight glass of the doors.
Innisfail claims to have the highest concentration of Art Deco buildings in any CBD, an assertion we would not dispute. Even the facade of the main river bridge carries the theme,
as do many of the shop fronts, both original and restored.
This devotion to Art Deco, maintained and extended throughout the town with a civic dedication which matches that which we saw in Charters Towers, owes it origins to a cyclone, or rather a series of cyclones, which had been steadily destroying the original town's timber buildings. This came to a head in 1918 when a catastrophic storm almost wiped the town off the map.
Concrete buildings were the obvious answer at a time when Art Deco, an architectural style which reflected a new modernism in an increasingly mechanical age, was all the rage. Never let it be said that the good folk of Innisfail were behind the times! The style was embraced with such an extraordinary passion during what was essentially an entire rebuild of the town, that I have had to apply strict editorial controls over this selection of representative photos.
It is everywhere, from the town's water tower
to the fire station building.
There were even some reminders of home. We found a 'Flinders Medical Centre' in Cloncurry, and here in Innisfail we discovered the namesake of a Brighton bakery.
In a temporary departure from Art Deco, and whilst on the 'reminders of home' theme, these two buildings were reminiscent of old Jetty Road, Brighton (to us at least)
And one final example of Art Deco where this building displays a classic 'Turks Head' facade (very fashionable at the time)
There is more to Innisfail's buildings than Art Deco, and we found some to be equally impressive. The Catholic Church, for example, is listed on the National heritage Register
and stands in complete contrast to its Anglican counterpart, almost across the road.
The modern (built in 1940) town Court House stands next to the large regional Police complex
whilst at the other end of the same street one can find the impressive McIlwraith Building. This began life as the 'White Horse Hotel' so named because of a "little White Horse statue" the original builder had brought with them from England. The original buidling on this site was totally destroyed in the 1918 cyclone but the McIlwraith's laudable sense of history prompted them to incorporate the statue at the top of the angled front facade of the building. (hard to see, but trust me, it is there!)
And for those, like me, who are always interested in the local RSL, Innisfail's is located on the river front,
directly opposite a simple but impressive memorial park.
At the risk of appearing parochial, I was particularly gratified to see that the work of those who have served overseas in a peacekeeping role has been specifically recognized on the memorial statue.
The Innisfail river front, located at the confluence of the North and South Johnstone Rivers, is home to a mix of craft, including private 'stinkies' and yachts, cruise vessels and a local commercial fishing fleet. It makes a delightful place for lunch, either from the upper deck of the floating cafe (a very large motor launch) or munching on fish and chips from the nearby 'chippy' caravan.
We cannot leave Innisfail without sharing two more local snippets. In contrast to all the Art Deco, the 'Joss House'
is a 'Universal Temple' which honours Buddhism, Taoism and Ancestor worship. Visitors are invited to bow to a God of their choice and then provide a donation to the upkeep.
I decided that my donation would be well received without having to first pay homage to a favoured God!
And finally, let me indulge my penchant for the quirky. How often have you seen a notice like this on the entrance door to a medical centre?
Our wanderings around the incredible, hilly, and architecturally diverse Innisfail were undertaken whilst the tug went in for a service and an assessment of the symptoms of what I thought may have been a slipping transmission. We were relieved indeed to be told that all was well, and the phenomenon we had experienced was normal when towing a heavy load. If time proves we have been misled, I am happy to have the appropriate ammunition to make a warranty fuss.
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