TWO HARBOUR EXTREMES - COSSACK AND CAPE LAMBERT (6 - 12 MAY 2015)

I must begin this next exploration of the Karratha region with a postscript on my last and a "mea culpa". To my great embarrassment I have just realised that I have misspelled Point Samson throughout my previous missives, by adding a 'p' which was never part of the young man's name. I suspect I could have stayed quiet, but editorial honesty forbade that course. Apologies.

The postscript refers to the fact that I forgot to include an historical snippet in relation to Point Samson which had devastating consequences for so many Australians.  Between 1938 and 1966 blue asbestos from the mines at Wittenoom was shipped from Point Samson to spread its evil influence throughout the country.

'Evil'....what an appropriate word to describe the subsequent behaviour of the James Hardie executives and board members and the manner in which they deliberately misled all concerned. Their assertions that the company held sufficient funds to manage the inevitable claims which would be lodged for compensation were deliberate lies. 

I can still clearly recall the glib, reassuring and, as it transpired, utterly deceitful statements made at the time by the board Chairman, Meredith Hellicar, a pattern which, from the comments made by Justice Ian Gzell at the conclusion of her trial for breaches of the Corporations Act, she maintained in Court. What a despicable bunch this lot were. As a matter of extraordinary coincidence, as I was thinking about all this, the ABC was replaying the documentary 'Devil's Dust' which told of victim Ernie Banton's struggle for justice and compensation. 

But after that little vent, let's get on with our travels.  Not too distant from Point Samson are two places which could not be more different, Cossack and Cape Lambert, one the first port of the region, the other a modern, massive monster, a huge ore loading port facility.







The road to Cossack took us off the Roebourne - Point Samson road and east through the salt pans of the low plains.

Within a short time we came across the first of the old buildings of this historic town, the school house, sitting alone in what is now splendid isolation.  This was not always the case....in its heyday Cossack's population could move around the town by horse drawn tram, a line which passed right by the school and extended all the way to the neighbouring town of Roebourne.


Cossack holds a place of real significance in the development of the Pilbara region. I could not provide a better description of its development and demise than that which is to be found in the excellent brochure produced by the Shire of Roebourne.

"First used by Europeans in 1863, the new port paved the way for the pastoral, pearling and mining industries that today generate over 13 billion every year.

The first significant industry to develop here after pastoralists struggled with drought and isolation was pearling, when large pearl fields were discovered nearby.  By the 1880's up to 80 luggers were operating in the area, and by 1884 more than 400 people were living in Cossack.

The Pilbara gold rush was on by 1888 and hundreds of prospectors streamed trough Cossack and Roebourne to seek their fortunes on the Pilbara Goldfields.

Cossack's growth spanned nearly 50 years; however its decline was far more rapid. By 1900 pearling operations were moving to Broome and prospectors had moved to other goldfields.

Even worse, the harbour proved unsuitable for larger ships.  Between 1902 and 1904 a jetty was constructed in Point Samson and in 1910 the harbour facilities were relocated there. Other enterprises slowly drifted away and, by the early 1950's, the town was completely abandoned..........."

Eight of the many original buildings which made up Cossack have now been restored, as we could see from a town lookout. 







And what grand buildings they were, and are again.










Some are now being used to accommodate tourists to the area.








Others, such as the Customs House, have no other function at this stage, but who knows what the future will bring. By the way, isn't this a classic example of the thoughtlessness of some tourists....this lot just had to park in shade no matter that their mobile home imposed so inappropriately on what folk had come here to see and photograph. Liz was very happy that its owners were nowhere to be seen...I would have put on my grumpy hat and had a word!




Not surprisingly the old wharf is just across the road from the Customs House. It is a popular fishing spot, and is now complemented by the small boat ramp next to it.











After a somewhat cursory drive around the old township (I was still not walking far at this stage) we headed out to the Tien Tsin lookout. From here, looking out over the mouth of Butcher's Inlet,








and further upstream towards the Cossack wharf, we had no difficulty understanding why this presented a hazardous passage to any but small ships, and even they could only safely navigate this passage at high tide. The shifting sands and mud of the shoals must have been a nightmare for all approaching and departing skippers.








From this same lookout we were afforded a wonderful view across the expanses of Settlers Beach and the land mass of Point Samson beyond,






and, panning further to the left, across the salt pan flats, we could see the township of Wickham, hunkered down in the heat on the plains between the Point Samson Road and the spine of the Cape Lambert hills.

This township has a close association with the activities at Cape Lambert....it houses the workforce which maintains operations there.





So after this wonderful overview of the district, we headed back to old Cossack, down the narrow roadway which winds its way through the low scrub and ironstone outcrops.






It was time to farewell the past and take a look at the present. Cape Lambert lies on the opposite side of the peninsula to Cossack. It is accessed through the outskirts of Wickham where the road then meanders its way through the ridge of hills beyond. These were a constant reminder that we were in the Pilbara.....all that pokes through the covering of scrub is ironstone red.






The first indication of the infrastructure of the ore loading facility at Cape Lambert is the massive railway bridge complex (this pictured is but a small part of it) which takes the road over the many lines of the rail ore delivery system.








This really is something to see, particularly for visitors like us who have never experienced anything like it before.











The ore loading port, from which the ore from Rio Tinto's many Pilbara mines is exported, is operated by Pilbara Iron, a company which is more than happy to decorate its massive diesel locomotives which haul their enormous tails of ore waggons. 









Arrays of pylons and substations which mange the delivery of the vast quantities of electrical power needed to run these facilities are another obvious feature of all that we saw, now and later.








But before we took a closer look at the mechanical monsters which handle the ore, we scooted a little further down the road to the point where it ends at what is known as Boat Beach. This, to my great chagrin, is a good fishing beach. Several of our park mates came home daily with reasonable catches of sand whiting, garfish and trevally.  



I was particularly grumpy that my injured foot was still under The Matron's quarantine as far as exposure to sand or water was concerned. None of these local piscatorial delights fell foul of Marshie's hooks, but I did manage one small positive involvement. 

During one happy hour a fellow traveller who had captured a few good sized gar was bemoaning the fact that she had no idea how to fillet them properly. Your scribe's ears pricked up instantly....with all due modesty I can report that I am a dab hand at producing bone free butterfly fillets from even the smallest 'pencil gar'.  Liz was quick to confirm that she is yet to find a bone in any which make their way to her plate. 

"Pop them in the fridge for four hours to firm up and bring them to the next happy hour....I'll show you how to do it", was my suggestion.  No sooner said than done.  To my surprise the word had spread and I found myself demonstrating the finer points of gar filleting to an audience of twenty or so, but all went well. "Not a bone", was the happy report the following day.  A new friend for life had been made!



Boat Beach is overlooked by the Port Walcott yacht club, a modest establishment, but one which was particularly well patronised on this particular day....it was Mothers' Day. We were amused to see how many of those at the club enjoying a cold beer on the balcony were still dressed in their 'high viz' clothing.





We suspected they may have come directly from work.  It was not far to travel.  As we drove up the short dirt road past the clubhouse, two of the massive stockpile loaders reared up against the skyline.









These things are truly enormous. It was fascinating to watch these great preying mantis like machines move back and forward along their rails as the stockpiles grew.







We were quickly learning that everything associated with this industry is on a scale which we had never before really understood, including the amounts of money invested, the tonnages extracted and crushed and the infrastructure needed to transport and export the end product. 





The system is interesting. The ore waggons are upended into receiving hoppers. The ore is transported by convey belts to the stock pile loaders










which deposit it in huge rows along which other equally huge machines prowl, ripping away at the pile of ore with their circular bucket grabs which deposit it on yet another conveyor belt which moves the ore to the wharf ship loaders.





This whole operation runs constantly. And it is not hard to understand why when one casts an eye seaward.

This rather hazy shot shows five Cape size bulk ore carriers lying at anchor in the Cape Lambert roads. Now for the real jolt.....these were all I could get in one frame.....on this particular day there were twelve more stretching far and wide across the horizon. I was later told that it is not unusual for over twenty of these ships to be swinging on their anchor chains awaiting their turn to move alongside.

And time spend idle is expensive.  There is a real imperative to have these vessels loaded and on their way. We had previously seen at close hand an ore ship loading in Esperance. Cape Lambert is on a different scale altogether. Tours of the docks are not run here, and it was impossible to photograph beyond the stock pile area at close hand,

but I was able to snap this distant shot of ore carriers alongside the inner end of the wharf. I will have to ask you to take my word for it when I tell you that there are five ships in this photo.  But that's not the end of it, literally.

The loading wharf here extends almost three kilometres out to sea and here were three more of these marine leviathans gobbling up ore as fast as the loaders could dump it into their gaping holds. The average time taken to see one of these ships in, loaded and off again is 24 - 36 hours. How much ore? One hundred thousand tonnes and more is commonplace. Some of the largest Cape size bulk ore carriers are designed to manage up to 400,000 tonnes deadweight!

In an effort to provide some idea of the magnitude of the Cape Lambert loading wharves, I had included this shot taken gratefully from the Internet. Apart from showing four ships at the end of the jetty, it is obvious which one is almost fully loaded.


An export facility of this size is needed.  Rio Tinto operates twenty three mines in the Pilbara, and by 2016 plans to ship 330 million tonnes of product from Cape Lambert. Even at the rock (deliberate!) bottom price of $50 a tonne, this represents a staggering return....I'll let you do the sums.  




With our heads spinning somewhat, it was time to return to camp, back over the Cape Lambert railway bridge and one last look at the latest lines of ore waggons waiting to feed the endless appetite of the loading equipment.






Next we explore yet another two opposites, the old town of Roebourne and modern Wickham.