CHARTERS TOWERS (7 - 10 JULY)

We cannot leave Richmond without a parting photo of two.  True to his word, our musical mate Phil performed for us all on the Saturday evening with a repertoire which again included a mix of country, rock and ballads, all interspersed with some fine instrumentals of the era in which I was singing with a little local rock band in Adelaide.  Ah, nostalgia!  I harbour a suspicion that it becomes more significant with increasing age.

Notwithstanding the odd glitch in his finger work, Phil really does put on a fine show. He has mastered the art of performing with an electronic backing system. At times you would swear he was fronting a six piece band. We had a great time.

No tale of the Richmond caravan park under its current management would be complete without mention of 'Murphy', the managers' dog...a cross between and Irish Wolf Hound and a Bull Mastiff....and the biggest sook on four legs. Murphy liked the music too.

But on to Charters Towers.  Our plan to extend in Richmond in an attempt to avoid the diesel draining headwinds as we made our way east was futile.  Our 7.30 am departure did see us make some 80 kms or so in comparative calm, but it was indeed 'the calm before the storm'.  For the next two hours, as we travelled across the last of the open grazing country through Hughenden and beyond, we were punching into an easterly banshee of a strength which forced us to slow to 70 kph at some stages.  We watched, almost in awe, as the fuel gauge literally moved before our eyes. I have discovered that the ability to maintain a stoic disregard of certain matters beyond one's control is a decided benefit when on the road. Sadly, I've not yet completely mastered the skill!

Our journey this day provided a number of real contrasts, one of which was the topography, when the grassy plains through which we had been travelling for the past few weeks finally surrendered to the wooded mountains of the northern Great Dividing Range.

I am not sure that these shots (including the disturbingly expanding windscreen crack) really do justice to the difference, but they are the best we could manage.

As I mentioned previously, our route took us through Hughenden, the third of the three 'Dinosaur Trail' towns of the Queensland outback. Given our concerns with the weather we did not take the time to explore, but did capture a shot of the resident Muttaburrasaurus as we negotiated a right turn in the main street.  This, we decided, provided a fitting farewell to a major feature of our travels of the past few weeks from the time we had arrived in Winton. We were 'dinosaured out'!

Now I think I have commented previously about the vagaries of expectations borne out of a study of brochures, pamphlets and other advertising and/or promotional blurb.  Charters Towers proved to be a classic case in point.

After a picturesque (and relatively wind free) descent through the ranges, 'The World' as CT was once know, hove into view.  The highway into the city was unremarkable and took us directly to the caravan park where we had a booked site (fortunately as it turned out....many were turned away after our arrival...combination of flooded local roads and the V8 Supercar series in Townsville).  Once organized, we were off into town, one I had for some reason thought would present the same inordinately wide streets designed to accommodate the bullock teams of the past, as we had found throughout outback Queensland.

In what was almost akin to a culture shock we discovered that the main two streets of CT were narrow and undulating.  Of course, any rational thinking based on the history of the city's establishment and development would render that fact entirely logical, but for some reason I had envisaged the opposite.  

 

What a change after the outback towns in which we had been for the past weeks, but then CT is a city unlike any other. 

On Christmas Eve, 1871, three prospectors and their 12 year old  aboriginal 'horse boy' were camped in the area at the base of a large hill when lighting spooked their horses.  'Jupiter Mossman' did his job and went off in search of them.  It will probably come as no surprise to read that in doing so he also found a nugget of alluvial gold in the creek bed which had provided the errant animals with shelter.  The rest, as they say, is history.

After picking up some 1,600 oz of gold nuggets on the surface of what became the 'Washington Reef', the three prospectors staked claims with the then Queensland gold commissioner, Mr W.S.E.M. Charters, and the rush was on.  'Charters Tors', as the town was initially known, grew rapidly.  Ten significant reefs were discovered and mined, producing the richest ore in Australia's mining history (50% richer than Victoria and 75% richer than that produced in Kalgoorlie).

In its heyday, CT was the second largest city in Queensland,  boasting a population of over 30,000 souls.   Human nature being what it is, those who managed to successfully extract gold or make their fortunes otherwise on the stock market or in the provision of goods and services, set about erecting buildings, both civic and private, with a single minded determination to thus proclaim the wealth and independence of the city.  They succeeded admirably!  Thank heavens the past and present burghers of CT have been equally determined in their efforts to preserve, and in some cases, spectacularly extend, many of these buildings. 

The wealth of the town was such that its own stock exchange was built in 1887-8, initially as an arcade of shops (which remain to this day). In 1890 the Charters Towers Stock Exchange was established, hosting three calls of the card a day when mining was at its peak.  As sadly remains the case today, when greed overcomes good sense and judgement, whilst many made fortunes on the exchange, equal numbers of hopefuls were ruined.  One notable investor lost the staggering amount of 200,000 thousand pounds! 

The City Hall (which was originally the National Bank), and Post Office, built in the late 1800's and beautifully maintained to this day, provide two further example of the opulence of CT at the time.

In addition to these overt expressions of independence and wealth, the general purchasing power of many of the population was such that it encouraged the development of businesses to cater for their every whim. The nickname for the city, 'The World', arose out of the somewhat vain, but apparently true, claim that there was nothing available in the world that could not be had in CT of the time and there was no need to go anywhere else.

Mining was, and remains, hard and dirty work.  A day underground invariably produces a significant thirst amongst those involved.  CT was not about to fail in its civic duty in this regard.  At one stage the miners and others had the staggering choice of 92 'watering holes' dotted throughout the town in which to wash away the dust of their toil.  Very few of these still exist, and those which do (two of which are pictured here)present standards of service and ambiance which, on our brief observations, are variable to say the least. 

On the other hand, the current cultural needs of the folk of CT are well met in a theatre building which was originally the Australian Bank of Commerce, but which, in true CT style, has now been adapted and extended to become a wonderful performing arts venue. 

Additions to the original building can just be seen on the right of this shot.  These extend well to the rear of the facade to provide the stage and theatre seating areas. 

The interior of the old building has been preserved in all its original grandeur.  At the left of this photo is the theatre bar.  What a venue in which to enjoy a champers at interval! 

Other rooms in the building have been given over to miscellaneous displays of various kinds, some of which were a little confusing in the mix of items, but enchanting for all that.

We cannot move on from the history of CT without mentioning the Police Station which sits proudly in the main thoroughfare of Gill Street.  In 1988 the original building was destroyed by, yes, you guessed it, fire  (that dreaded phantom arsonist of the Qld outback strikes again!).  To their eternal credit, the citizenry of CT demanded that the new station be built using the original plans.   So the yeomen of CT are now housed in a rare  example of an early 20thC police barracks.  What a far cry from the boring buildings which serve as many police stations throughout the country.


But as far as 'typically quirky CT' is concerned, we have saved the best till last.  The Civic Club.  Initially built as a fine home, the building was transformed in 1900.  The 'Londoners Club' was registered on 2 May of that year.  It provided to the upper crust of CT and was, for many years, regarded as the elite club of North Queensland.  All are now welcome to enjoy the extraordinary interior of this building which, apart from its bar and pokies, houses an old style billiard room and an entrance and passageways which have to be seen to be believed.

This is the sight which greets one on entry

before moving on down the passage past the billiard room

to the bar itself.

Even the ceiling above the bar is 'different' although in a most practical way.

A drink in the Civic Club is a journey back in time, marred only by the most annoying jangle of the pokies.  My particular enjoyment was enhanced by the fact that the woman serving behind the bar was the wife of the local Police Prosecutor.  She was a mine (pun intended) of information.

In addition to the fine buildings, CT's civic pride is further on display in the form of numerous delightful public gardens and streetscapes.  It is difficult to capture the full sweep of these, particularly on the dull day it was, but hopefully some idea can be gained from the following shots.

The extent of the public gardens and parks reminded us very much of Toowoomba as we drove around.  Indeed we remain surprised that this is an aspect of CT which does not receive a great deal of attention in the promotional material.  Mind you, a good rainfall helps.

(We had previously noted the size of the local gutters with surprise...until the rain started that is!)

As of about 1917, despite its flourishing start, increasing problems of ventilation and water associated with the increasingly deep mining operations resulted in a sharp decline in production and the town went into a steep decline for many years. The economy of the modern Charters Towers is focused on a resurgent mining industry, beef cattle production and education.  Improved mining techniques have resulted in the reopening of some of the mines and the development of plans which include the removal of ore from shafts and stopes which will run entirely under the city.  The beef industry did not surprise us, but the scope of the education facilities in CT did.  We have learnt that the colleges and schools of CT currently provide for the education of the vast majority outback Queensland children, some 2,500 of whom board in various facilities, all of a very high standard set in beautiful grounds.


As you may have gathered by now, we were enchanted by CT.  The only thing which marred our enjoyment (and photographic presentation) of the wonderful buildings and parks was the weather, which, by the time we were in full exploration mode the morning following our arrival, had turned seriously for the worse.

As this shot of our site shows, we were drowned overnight, as was coastal Townsville and many areas nearby. We were feeling somewhat sorry for ourselves as we hunkered down under 55 mils, but did spare a thought for the coastal dwellers who were blessed with nearly 100 mils, a 'dry season' deluge of proportions not recorded since 1950. Sunny Queensland my foot (or are we Jonahs?).

Of course, by now being seasoned travellers, adapting to, or managing crap weather has become de rigeour.  It is amazing how one's perspective can change for the better with an invigorating glass or two, fine company and a good meal. 







And whilst Queensland banana prawns will never really match the Kingies of our Gulfs and mud crab can but mimic the southern rock lobster (although pretty damn well we have to say), we have steeled ourselves to suffer in relative silence.

We left Charters Towers with regret and a self made promise to revisit at some time in the future when fine weather would allow for extended walks around what we have both agreed is one of Australia's real gems.  Townsville and Magnetic Island await, not to mention the need for a new windscreen and a good resupply.

I have just realised that the ship's cat has not featured in recent despatches.  I think it fair to say that Max is becoming a genuinely seasoned traveller.  He has the nous to repair to his little house when things are hectic

or recline at his ease after a hard night of guard duty. What a life!