The Daydream Mine.

When we were planning this holiday we asked the kids where they wanted to go if they could choose anywhere. They didn’t even think twice and said “the Daydream Mine”. They couldn’t remember where it was, or even if we were ever likely to be in that part of Australia again, but that was the top of their destination list.

Luckily for them the trip to the Daydream Mine was perfectly feasible as it is between Silverton and Broken Hill and we were kind of planning to come this way anyway!

Since we have been in Broken Hill for a week now we thought we had better take the trip out there before we leave, otherwise we would have two broken-hearted kids whining at us all the way home!

Last time we went there was 2 years ago and, like the nearby town of Silverton, there were only a few others on the tour with us and we had the place to ourselves. When we drove up yesterday there were about 20 cars there and people milling around everywhere waiting for their tour to begin. Bugger…. curse their good advertising!

We wandered up to the office and just beat the next arriving carload of people to put our names at the bottom of the list for the next surface and underground tour.

The Daydream Mine is a proper old mine, no above ground machinery, no winches and no safe workplaces for those old miners. All pick and hammer here. The area was very rich in silver, lead and zinc, and in the late 1800’s Cornish miners flocked to the area from the copper mines of Burra in South Australia.

It wasn’t just miners though, they bought their wives and children too. There were no roads to such a remote place so they pushed wooden wheelbarrows full of their belongings the 400 miles here.

No wheelbarrows for us, luckily.

No roads. 400 miles. Wooden wheelbarrow.

Here is a picture of our car parked on the side of their nicely graded, slightly corrugated, 13km long driveway. Can you imagine the life that they had before if they thought packing up their kids and walking 400 miles into the dry unknown was a better option?

(When the miners first arrived here there were trees, but for miles around they were cut down for mine supports, smelter fuel and building material.)

Once they arrived here it wasn’t only the men who worked. The kids were the ones who pushed the carts full of ore to the surface, hauled sacks full of rocks, sorted the ore and cut tree trunks with hand saws for the mine supports. All this for 75c a week. That was not all they got though, working in such a place ensured that they shared in the respiratory complaints that the older miners did, and died young too.

On the surface tour the guide (who was great) showed us the remains of a hut. It was just a stack of stones in a small square which originally had a few logs laid over the top and more rocks stacked on top. There was a photo in the tea-room of one of the guides crouched in the doorway while the roof was still on but now the logs and rocks off the roof had been removed as I can’t imagine anyone going in there after all this time without first putting their affairs in order!

Daydream Mine township ruins map.

This tiny hut had no standing room and no lying room either. It was just a place to keep their cooking utensils and gather at night. They didn’t need any room for beds as their lungs were so riddled with miners complaint (phthisis) that they had to sleep propped up against the walls.

The township here had a population of 500 at its peak, with the obligatory pubs and other places that make people feel civilized. The ruins of the town are still there right across the road from the smelter.

Looking out over the ruins it is hard to imagine so many people living out here. It must have been an unbelievably hard existence.

Daydream Mine township ruins.

After we had heard the story of the workers we all wandered to the shed and were fitted out for helmets and headlights. The mine was dug by people who would be considered small by todays standards and as such the roof was dangerously low for our modern-day heads! It is also unlit, so without headlamps we would be plunged into darkness.

It was very funny to see the group hesitantly step forward to take an appropriately sized belt to buckle the battery for the lamp on to. We had been here before so we knew this would happen, but those in the crowd who were a little weight sensitive were clearly uncomfortable going to the long end of the rack for a larger belt!

Once we were geared up the guide led us to the steps and cautioned us not to touch things, to all stick together, to use the handrail and watch our heads. There is a sign at the top of the steps that warns you that you are about to pass the point of getting a refund, so anyone who wants to back out had better make up their minds right then and there!

Going down into the Daydream Mine.

The steps down are quite steep and the hole in the rock small, if you are claustrophobic you will realize pretty quickly that you are not going to enjoy yourself.

Once in it doesn’t get any better and the handrail comes in very handy! The mine slopes steeply and the roof is low, the kids were having no trouble at all, laughing at our difficulties, while all of the adults were very glad for the helmets, I can’t tell you how many times I banged mine against the roof, and I am by no means tall!

We wandered through tunnels while the guide stopped us at different points and told us stories until we reached a more open (but still small) area that went no further. We all perched on rocks and, lighting a single candle, he asked us to all turn off our headlamps. The original miners dug the 4km of tunnels by candlelight and he showed us how it was dug. A team of men used a sharpened metal bar and hammered it in to make a pattern of deep holes. Black powder was then poured in, a fuse, and the hole was plugged with clay. The fuses trailed out and all ran together, when the handful of them was lit the men ran quickly away hoping that only the bit that they want would fall apart and not the whole mine.

Last time we were here one of the kids on the tour freaked out halfway through and his mum had to take him back to the surface alone. On this tour the whole group made it through without difficulty, although by the time we had made the steep climb back to the top, and up the last few steps, some of the group were wobbly legged and probably wishing they had given up and gone back earlier too!

It was a great tour, the guide had been a miner himself in the big Broken Hill mines. Naturally, number 2 son immediately befriended with him after pointing out a hidden bit of rich ore that had previously escaped his notice during the many tours he had guided.

After we put all of our gear back in the shed we were the last to leave, as usual, as number 2 was pulled aside and the two of them had a good talk about interesting rocks while the rest of the crowd went to sign out. He was given a huge rock full of interesting shapes and colours to take home and, as you can imagine, was totally thrilled.

Daydream mine tea room.

We wandered back to the perfectly decorated office/tea room and bought a drinks and a piece of cake.

As the kids sat down with their soft drinks the bloke who did the tour wandered quietly past and gave number 2 one of the pieces of galena he had sneakily lifted from a display and muttered “put it in your pocket”. Again, a happy kid.

As I mentioned before, the road in to the mine is only 13kms long. It tuns through beautiful arid country and we kept pulling over for the other tourists to zoom past. They were all racing to the next thing and we were just happy where we were.

We pulled over a few times to look at the view or just an interesting bit of ground, it took us ages to get back to the main road. That is how we usually travel through the bush, if you go too fast you will miss out on all the cool stuff. The battery in the Man’s camera ran out halfway back and he was most unimpressed. This led us to returning the next day just to do the drive again!

relaxed kangaroos

Of course that meant we had no other plan for that day, and to drive the 26 km round trip took us hours. Again we constantly pulled over for those rushing past, including one time when we rolled to a stop beside a few kangaroos standing in the scrub. The other car rushed past, totally missing the chance to see them. The day before we had accidentally done the same beside a big, and very angry, Stumpy Tail lizard, nearly running him over!

I don’t understand why everyone drives all this way out to see things and then not actually look for them. What a waste.

We got home just in time for me so sit down and finish this post while listening to the NRL Grand Final on the radio (and the end on the tv). My team the Melbourne Storm got up and kicked the Canterbury Bulldogs winning 14 to 4. GO STORM! What a great day 😀

A big seat, an old chimney, and a sad memory.

This morning we thought we would go and have a look at the tourist centre thing overlooking the town. The building is perched precariously high on the top of the line of lode, and from the streets below it just looks like a building that slid off the back of a truck and landed hanging half off the edge of a big pile of gravel. As you travel around town it pops out from between buildings looking like it will only take the slightest tremor to slide it onto the train line below.

Just waiting for the OH&S guy to take the homemade step away….

Once we got up there we were confronted with a completely unexpected thing. A giant, red, park bench. A nearby plaque explained that it was art so the boys sat down, trying to appreciate it, but we only ended up laughing at its sheer silliness.

Obviously when the artist envisaged this piece he never though of one thing. People actually using it. It’s a chair and all, surely he would have factored in that possibility.

No human could have possibly sat up there without first climbing up on the wobbly bricks some obliging, and more practical, person had piled up on one side.

After a few photos of the kids pulling the kinds of faces a giant red chair deserved we wandered inside. It seemed to consist only of a cafe and a small gift shop, the outside area leading to a miners memorial and other touristy things was shut due to the weather, the winds were pretty strong and we were up pretty high… but, still, annoying… The whole thing looked better from down below when there was the chance it might fall down..

The plaque reads; This fireplace built by Tom Phin and A.W.B Orman May 1885 is part of the first office of the B.H.P.

Afterwards we thought we would look for something we had seen in one of the tourist brochures. There was still a remnant of the original BHP (Broken Hill Proprietory Company) building left in the town in the form of a stone chimney.It wasn’t very well signposted and in the tradition of all crappy tourist maps we pretty much had to guess where it might be. We found it easily but I really don’t think to many people bother to turn up the very short street at the side of the line of lode to see it.

It was just a chimney the same as all the other 1800’s stone chimneys we see on our travels but this time is wasn’t an anonymous pile out in the bush, or a picturesque ruin in someones garden. This was where the biggest mining company in the world began. Yep, BHP Billiton. Richest hole diggers in the world.

I think that anywhere else in the world the chimney would be surrounded by a museum extolling the virtues of the company, here in Broken Hill it is just an old chimney with the top broken and a corrugated iron roof keeping the worst of the weather off.

Once we left the chimney site we went looking for another old mine site, Browne’s shaft. Unlike most of the mine stuff in town that has been placed in a viewing area, this is a place that almost looks like the miners just walked off the job last year.

Browne’s Shaft.

Right next door is the managers house, now a private residence. You look down the shaft and there is a big dark hole. The small cages the miners rode down to the levels are right there, above your head.

It gives the impression that it wouldn’t take much effort to get it all up and running again, and was by far the most interesting mine thing we had seen so far.

 We spent ages wandering around looking at it from all angles and then wandered off into the scrub around it.

The man found a pile of old corings just lying in the spinifex and the kids ran around happily finding bits of old metal, pins and other interesting scrap just scattered around.

_____________________________

The saddest thing we saw today was these trucks on the side of the road as we were going up to the top of the line of lode. The plaque on the left reads;

To the memory of mullockers

Thomas Jordan aged 19

Leopold Campbell aged 21

Whose bodies remain beneath this spot in the A5 stope, 500 ft level, Central mine

as a result of a fall of rock at 3am 8th October 1902.

Dedicated 8th October 2002.

Damn flies!

When we were in Silverton we were thinking of having a sit down lunch. Of course, that was before we realized that each of the cars in town must have contained about 20 people and that having a peaceful lunch was a vain hope.

As the Man and I walked into the garden of one cafe we saw this blackboard sign which bought us both to a standstill.

THE FLIES ARE BAD SO PLEASE ENTER AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN THANK YOU.

The first thing the Man did was laugh and say “Bloody hell, the flies must get bad if they want you to shut the gate to the backyard that fast”.

Yes, we knew that it referred to the adjacent door, leading inside, but the position of the sign was just too good to ignore!

Shut the door! What were you, born in a tent?!

Lookout lizard. Silverton 2012.

When we were at the Mundi Mundi lookout the other day we naturally did a bit of wandering around in the nearby low scrub, in case we found any treasures.

Luckily for me I saw this little treasure while he was sunbathing on his rock.

He was happy for me to have a look at him for a few minutes, not even bothering to run off even when I called the kids over to have a look. Even me sneaking closer and closer with my camera didn’t alarm him and he was still there when we quietly walked away.

Flat out like a lizard…. ummmm… sunbathing?

Mineral museum, Broken Hill.

Number 2 son is a strange one. A boy of his age should be mainly interested in things like ninjas, weapons and video games, and he is, massively so.

shiny rock.

Something else he is even more interested in is a little unusual. He loves rocks. Shiny rocks, boring rocks, weird rocks, he loves them all.

Can you imagine how happy this little person was yesterday when we took him to a mineral museum?

He happily sat through the video display of the creation of the mineral deposits at Broken Hill, then raced ahead to see what treasures awaited.

He was not disappointed. I was immediately requested to take a photo of him standing next to a 42kg nugget of native silver, then spent the next half an hour or so taking photos of pretty much every display in the room, just so he didn’t miss a thing. “Mum, look at this.” “Mum, over here!” I expect that the other patrons were quick to move on just because they were shamed by their lack of excitement. 😉

weird rock.

There was even a table with a collection of minerals complete with a magnifier that beamed the enlarged image onto a big tv screen above you.

Oh, happy days! The amethyst residing in his pocket was whipped out and minutely examined before the rocks on the table were inspected with equal interest.

Number 1 son is not as interested in rocky things, but still goes along with it, after all, it is hard to resist such enthusiasm.

It was a small display, too small, obviously. As he neared the exit a little voice rang out through the room, “Awww, is that all?”

Strange child…. 😀

spiky rock.

The Living Desert, Broken Hill.

Last night we drove to The Living Desert, a park about 12km out of Broken Hill. It has a nature trail and a walk to the top of a hill where you can see a series of sandstone sculptures carved by artists from around the world in 1993, each with their own story. We planned to go at the end of the day to see the sun set hoping there would be a nice view from it.

We arrived there about 5 (the gates shut at 7) and decided not to drive directly to the top, but to drive around and park at the bottom of the hill, and walk up to the sculptures. That was a big mistake.

The walk winds around the stony hill and through a multitude of indigenous plants giving great views at every turn.

By the time we reached the sculpture garden at the top we had seen beautiful rocky outcrops, amazing views and quietly watched emus walk through the bushes while a group of teenagers stomped past, completely oblivious to them on their quest to get to the art.

No sculpture could outdo the natural beauty we saw on the way up there so when we arrived to find a crowd oohing and aaahing over what I thought were mostly average pieces we were distinctly underwhelmed. Some were good, but they were the ones with the largest amount of admirers and the hardest to see.

My apologies to those artists who had obviously put a lot of effort into their sculptures, including one who injured his hand badly while there, and whose piece had to be finished by a group effort, but I know what I like…

We did a turn around the sculptures, dodging the other visitors all the while. After re-grouping we decided that we would be more entertained by walking to one of the spots we had seen earlier, making ourselves comfortable, and watching the sunset in peace.

We wandered down the hill and found a nice spot to watch the shadows lengthening in the distance. Of course, once the sun had sunk to acceptably low level we realized we had no idea what time it was and from our vantage point we could see that our car was the only one left in the carpark. Eeek! We zoomed back to the car and made it out before the gate shut… phew! It would have been a cold night out there, that’s for sure!