The shadow of the headframe

Kalgoorlie is the centre of the Western Australian mining industry (if not Australia’s). There are hundreds of mines surrounding the town; at a quiet moment the sounds of drills and diggers working the largest of them (the Super Pit) are carried on the desert wind from the edge of town. Gold runs through the veins here both those under your feet and through the blood of the people, miners with a nugget in their pocket and a story to tell (although the pub owners usually have the nuggets).

The town centre is a 1900s Federation statement of goldrush wealth, demanding attention and respect in the manner of the nouveau riche, the souped-up V8s passing by providing the modern analogue, worth more than their 20 year old drivers should be able to afford. One concession to reality is the 4 lane streets, no show of power but dictated by the turning circle of a camel train.

Not every story is one of romance and success. As the skimpy battled to match the faded chalk written wine list with the bottles in front of her (fine dining is possible in a mining town) the guy at the bar asked me how the conference was going. “I’m new in town, I’m working at a gravel quarry at the moment but I came here to try and get onto the mines. I want to drive dump trucks if I can.” I never found out where he’d come from, who he’d left behind or was hoping to bring with him, instead I left him as alone as I found him, his dream not melting as fast as the ice in his bourbon and coke as every story here still has a grain of hope.

Not simply a typical Aussie backyard - the hill behind is formed by waste from the Super Pit.

I was there for Diggers, the mining industry’s trade show where every mining magnate, wanna-be magnate or just geos there for a beer hoping for an idea or deal to let them make an impact is clamouring for the attention of Australia’s money men, bankers and stockbrokers dropped into the middle of the desert and given the hard sell. The hard sell is especially effective if you keep them at the pub til late, although when they go its time for catching up with old mates, spreading rumours and telling tall stories about how big your projects going to be. This is the other end of the spectrum to the geology conference I went to, here everything is about resources and money, every person meeting you is making a contact, trying to see if they can help you or you can help them. No-one contacted me after the conference in Portugal, already I’ve had half a dozen emails/calls since Kal and I’m not going to tell you how many job offers (if any geos need a job get in touch and I’ll give you some contacts).