La bohème in a mining donga

On the weekend, one of the other sub-contractors asks me if I want to go up to the highest point of Mt Isa. Yes, I say, he organises a key, hard hats, and we climb up on the highest mining tower on the mine. We step outside onto the flat roof of the tower, the sight is magnificent,  360 degrees and not a hill in sight. I have never seen anything like it. Just flat brown country. In the background I see what looks like a lake. My mate tells me that’s a dam, supplying the water for Mt Isa. We can go there for a swim tomorrow, he says. 

Mount Isa

We walk down the stairs again, just to see the mine shaft lift door open. 'Can we go down and have a look' my mate asks the mine foreman. 'Your contractors, here, aren't you?' he asks. 'Yes,' we confirm. 'Go on then', he says and we all climb into the lift which takes us about 20 floors down into the bowl of the earth.  The foreman shows us around an area where train carriages are full of iron ore, the carriages are turned upside down and the material disappears down a huge shaft. We climb back into the lift and descend even further down a level. 


There we walk into an even larger area about the size of a cathedral, where we see the material coming down through the shaft from upstairs and is broken down with very large chains that rotate through the raw material, breaking it up into smaller pieces. This whole setup is gigantic. Eventually, the lift takes us back up top. It was an amazing experience.


Sunday and we all climb onto the ute.  It’s not far to the lake. There are lots of families, bar-b-que areas and a changing hut. We get changed into our togs, the water is nice, not cold but it cools us down from the heat anyway.

We have brought prepared food from the mess and have a picnic by the side of the lake.

I’m full and have a snooze, when I wake up by an ambulance siren. There is a commotion near the lake, when I’m fully awake I see someone being carried into the ambulance. Apparently he got into trouble in the water after a heavy lunch.

After dinner, back at the barracks, we are in Bill’s room, having a few beers and singing opera arias. Bill is a good singer, so is Freddy Henshaw, a sheetmetal worker. I join in and we sing the Rodolfo and Marcello duet from La Boème. I wonder what the other sub-contractors are thinking.

I stay a few weeks in Mt Isa. The temperatures don’t drop during the day but at night it’s getting cooler.

Another Sunday we go to the local Swimming pool and I am being thrown into the pool. I’m terrified, I can’t swim, but somehow get to like the pool and eventually jump in myself a few times. By the time I leave Mt Isa, I can swim. At least better than before.

A few of us are invited to a party in someone’s home in Mt Isa on Saturday night. It’s great. There is a keg of beer and all the blokes are standing near it. The ladies are under the washing line by themselves. I have never seen anything like it. By midnight the keg is empty and the house owned comes out with a carton of small bottles of beer. Have a ‘stubby’ he says as he hands me a small bottle of beer. I know I shouldn’t drink anymore. I know I had enough but one more won’t hurt.

Some of the blokes had enough too. A couple of them are having a sleep on the grass and another is throwing up over the back fence into the neighbour’s yard.

A week later my job in Mt Isa is done, not so for the others. I fly back to Brisbane.