As promised, a potted history of Mount Isa, which really is a remarkable town in many ways notwithstanding its lack of visual urban charm.
In the general mining scheme of things in Australia, MI is a relative newcomer. Lead ore was first discovered in the area in February 1923. The subsequent assay in Cloncurry showed it to be high grade. The prospector, John Miles, quickly returned and pegged out a lease which he named Mount Isa, a twist on the name Mount Ida, a then prominent Western Australian gold field.
The rush was on. By the end of 1923 118 leases were pegged. It is one thing to have leases, quite another to actually mine the ore. Miners were needed and they had to be housed.
During 1924, the newly established Mount Isa Mines Ltd built simple structures of iron and hessian brought in from Camooweal. A larger version of these 'tent houses' survives to this day.
And they were surprisingly comfortable. Hardly the Ritz, but at the time we poked our noses in this domestic palace, the outside temperature was nudging 36 degrees yet the interior was remarkably cool.
And then came the take-over. The newly established Mount Isa Mines Ltd had acquired all the leases in the area by the beginning of 1926 and the most distant mining operation in Australia, from the resources of coal and a seaport, was well and truly established.
Once the new town had been surveyed, public infrastructure buildings including a court house, school, hospital and pub (probably really the most important) were all transported from the old mining town of Kuridala plonked in Mount Isa. Waste not want not! This snippet reminded us of the fact that our favourite pub in Normanton, The Albion, had been similarly transported from Croydon once the gold ran out there.
It took MMI Ltd 13 years of mining and the development of a milling and smelting operation to turn its first profit, but from there it has never looked back. Initially the lead and copper ore was transported by camel train and cart over the 135 kms or so to Cloncurry, but in 1929 the government had built a railway line which connected the town to the port of Townsville. At the time this had been a real infrastructure gamble, but one which paid handsome dividends. This line quickly became the most profitable in the State and provided the capital for the development of much of Queensland's total rail network.
The isolation and harsh environment of MI produced two interesting social and industrial outcomes. Notwithstanding the racial mix of the community, the social cohesion in MI was always solid. In the mine, mates were mates, no matter where on earth (literally) one had come from. And on the industrial front, MMI Ltd management's shrewd realisation that efforts spent to ensure that their employee pay and conditions were fair and adequate, would pay strong dividends. MI mine workers weathered the Great Depression and the deprivations of the war years to the extent that by the late 1940's men working in the mines could be earning three to four times the average wage of people in the southern capital cities.
Oh, as an interesting aside, in its developmental years, MI held the record for the consumption of more beer than any similar town in the Commonwealth. It was hot then and it still is!
By 1955 MMI Ltd had weathered financial, industrial and technical difficulties to become Australia's largest single creator of export income. It is a mining giant to this day with extensive reserves and an assured future of many years.
In 1958, to meet the growing demands for water, MMI built Lake Moondarah at a point on the Leichhardt River 16 kms from the town. Not only was this the largest water scheme in Australia financed by private enterprise, it remains to this day a wonderful place to visit and enjoy, as we did.
The contrast between the blue expanses of the lake and the surrounding harsh countryside could not be more stark, both on the drive out to the lake and
when looking out over the surrounding bush from the lake lookout.
Apart from the facilities from which to launch boats and other craft, picnic grounds are set along one shore line. Sadly the attempts by the local water board staff to nurture the normally pristine lawns have been stymied by hordes of marauding wallabies which come in each night and eat the place bare.
But we came to picnic, so picnic we did,
after which there had to be the mandatory post luncheon nap on the lounge (on the only patch of green we could find)
The good folk of the water authority have also seen to it that the shore of the lake in this area had been built up with sand to create a beach, but, as another sad outcome of the drought, the water level was so low when we visited that the current water's edge is well beyond the sand and now laps against thick mud. My plans for a swim were very quickly shelved. Irrespective of its current state, this remains a wonderful facility for all who live in and visit Mount Isa.
The only other MI 'attraction' which Liz insisted on seeing was the Underground Hospital. I have to concede to having been a somewhat reluctant accompanying spouse, but am happy to now admit that it was more than well worth seeing, if for no other reason it seemed somehow to just exemplify the MI spirit of camaraderie and resourcefulness.
Entrance to this extraordinary facility is via a 'Hospital Museum', where, for me the most interesting exhibit was a handbook for WW2 American soldiers based in Australia. The social advice was priceless, but I was particularly interested to read the manner in which the fighting ability of the Digger was lauded. It did occur to me that this may have been a subtle way of suggesting to our visiting allies that 'cutting a digger's lunch' (stealing his girl for those of you less versed in the true Aussie vernacular!) might precipitate a sad outcome for the transgressing GI.
Liz had the time of her life in this part of the facility and was at particular pains to point out to me two pieces of equipment which were very much in use when she first began her nursing practice.
I must confess that the 'Bird Ventilator'
and the 'Vitalograph' were of only passing interest to me, but she was excited. I merely noted that these bits of kit looked pretty damned ancient!
I did, however, agree that the sign relating to the various talents of the medical hierarchy certainly matched her reputation when she was the Sister in Charge of the Memorial Orthopaedic Ward!
The verandahs of this museum were lined with all sorts of hospital paraphernalia of yesteryear, but this clutter paled into insignificance when compared with what we were to see in the Underground Hospital.
In 1942, following the bombing of Darwin, it was felt that Mount Isa may well become a target of a similar act of dastardry. What would you expect of a mining town...go underground of course. And would you believe once the decision had been taken to do just that, a group of volunteer miners dug out the necessary tunnels in 13 weeks.
As it transpired, the facility was never used, and, incredible as it may seem, was actually completely forgotten after the war. It was actually re-discovered almost by accident but a few years ago, and became the subject of a concerted campaign to re-open the tunnels and re-equip it with the many bits and pieces which were still stored there and elsewhere.
As can be seen at the entrance to the main tunnel, this facility was seriously underground.
The hillside climbs from here to a peak at least another thirty meters higher. And it's all solid rock.
This particular entrance leads to what was designated the 'maternity section'
before it turns at right angles into what was the planned surgical area (note the storage system)
and at right angles again to the 'ward' area.
And in the event of an emergency blockage of the entrances, at least the staff could get out, up the ladder and
out into the wide world via this ventilation shaft. How the patients would be removed is anyone's guess...another job for the trusty miners one suspects.
Whilst we both marvelled at the ingenuity of this establishment, we also wondered how on earth the staff would manage with the dust which would have been omnipresent. Given that it was never needed, we shall equally never know.
Well, that brings our Mount Isa jaunt to a close. It is, as I have mentioned before, an impressive town for many reasons, and undoubtedly the epitome of the isolated, hot, and barren outback mining town. Its population is as cosmopolitan as anywhere in Australia and its record of community cohesion and productivity is unparalleled. But let's face it, notwithstanding all that, its real claim to fame....the beer drinking capital of the Commonwealth (in its day). Champions all, in Mount Isa!
Oh, I nearly forgot to mention, Mount Isa is also hosts the largest rodeo in the southern hemisphere. That must have been a Freudian slip!
In Mount Isa our tussle with the outback heat had just begun. This was to continue as we made our way further west to Camooweal, Barkly Homestead and thence to the Stuart Highway where out noses would finally turn southwards towards Adelaide.
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