The Think Tank
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  • May2nd

    Whyalla’s very own community newspaper, published without profit!

    We’re still getting things going here, but we have uploaded several articles to this website for you to read in the mean time. If you’d like to get a physical copy of the Newspaper, be sure to send us an email and we will either point you in the right direction or arrange to post one out to you!

    Thanks for visiting and we look forward to your feedback.

  • May2nd

    When I was thirteen, a lot less hairy, and wetter behind the gills than a freshly caught flat fish, my older brother and I piled into the back of a good friend’s white Nissan Pulsar and we set off together on an adventure that I’ll never forget. Destination: the Lowly Peninsula. Location: 30 kilometres North-East of Whyalla, South Australia. The year was 1994. The petrol tank was full. And with the air-conditioner cranked, fishing rods on the rack and the stereo pumping out more decibels than a Van Halen tribute band, good times felt more certain than day following night following day.

    Aside from the great company, a few very bad jokes, a thermos full of awful-tasting instant coffee and a Rodney Rude tape that was played all the way there and all the way back (the main source of all the bad jokes), I will always remember how clean and white the sand was. Soft to the feet, and shimmering in the sun as brightly as a bed sheet hung across a gun-metal grey washing line. A quiet, tranquil kind of place. A postcard kind of place. Just a 19th century lighthouse dividing the sky, a few rickety old tin shacks standing defiantly against the wind for company, and the sound of the sea lapping quietly against the shore.

    I remember the perfume of still-warm rocks and sun-baked shells skipping through the air. I remember ripping open a big bag of cockleshells and cracking my fishing line across the blue-green water, in the manner of a lion-tamer brandishing a calf-skin whip. I remember hauling in a pair of King George Whiting, hard-won and sparkling in the moonlight like a fist-full of fifty-cent pieces. And I remember me – wrapped in an old chocolate-brown tasselled blanket, sitting on the dunes and looking up at the stars – an endless canvas of smattered-white speckles melting into pools of black-bird black.

    But it wasn’t all beautiful, rose-tinted loveliness however. There was something else. Something that didn’t (and still doesn’t) fit the picture. Nature wasn’t the only force that had shaped this land. The hands of industry had also left their mark. And that mark was deep.

    This essay is about that mark – and the marks that some people, who have no feeling or respect for this land, intend to make.

    A little background

    Once upon a time in the early 80’s, a bunch of business men and politicians came together like a cheese grater and a block of parmesan over a peperoni pizza and decided that it would be a great idea to allow Santos (an Australian gas and oil company), to construct a 650 kilometre pipeline from Moomba’s Cooper and Eromanga Basins to Stony Point on the Point Lowly Peninsula. The proposal also included plans to build a petroleum fractionation plant (which separates raw hydrocarbon into more valuable component gasses) along with a major export facility at Weeroona bay (now known as Port ?Bonython). The project  was valued at over $800 million dollars, and must have sounded like a silver bullet for rural South Australia’s problems at the time, especially in a climate of significant socio-economic uncertainty.

    As a ‘one company’ town, Whyalla has always been beholden to the mysterious, unpredictable workings of the external market (and, by extension, is heavily influenced by external ideas, external interests and, inevitably, external politics – we have never, for want of a better phrase, been in control of our own destiny, which has arguably contributed to our traditionally high levels of community disengagement and public apathy – but that’s a story for another day). Throughout the 70’s, unemployment levels were in severe flux and took a turn for the worse following the closure of the famous BHP shipyards in 1978 . The early 80’s saw a rapid production downturn at the steelworks (thanks to a nation-wide industry crisis due to rising competition and production efficiencies overseas), culminating in the closure of both the No. 1 blast furnace and the brick works in 1981 and 1982 respectively . The pellet plant was rumoured to be the next domino to fall, and the fear of further closures must have been rife. Whyalla was seemingly against a wall and desperate for options, desperate for identity and desperate for stability. But in desperation, reactive, knee-jerk, decisions are often made – decisions that may well have short term benefits, but almost always at the cost of profound, long-term consequences.  As is often the case with such projects, the public interest takes a back seat to private interests – and in a culture of
    *now is better*, short term profits take precedence over any notion of long-term sustainability – especially in the context of annual business cycles, shareholders’ meetings, CEO bonuses for rapid (ultimately untenable) growth, and of course, three year state election terms.

    Subsequently, the spin machine sprung into action.  Boom times were predicted by the government, sold by the papers, and bought up by the public like snags at a sausage sizzle. The shipyards were a thing of the past after all – and men in striped business suits and spotted neck ties tend not to live in the past. The people would soon wipe their arses with twenty dollar bills, or so it was foretold, and all would be well. All struggles forgotten, forgiven – perhaps even celebrated – as inextinguishable proof of our collective grit and determination to survive.

    But not everyone bought into ‘the story’ however. Some folks strongly objected to the Santos plant, and fought against the tide of pro-growth fervour in favour of preserving Point Lowly for public use. In short, the protestors liked the way things were. They liked having access to the beach. They liked being able to fish the area unimpeded. They even rightly identified the importance of Point Lowly as a culturally important, convenient and affordable recreational retreat for the Whyalla people and beyond. But most significantly of all, they clearly identified the many potential  (and in hindsight, quite obvious) problems with putting a hydrocarbon processing plant smack bang in the middle of such a beautiful and ecologically diverse area.

    The long-term jobs and rivers of gold never did materialise – at least not for us. Many of the construction jobs came from outside of Whyalla (something to think about, especially in the context of our current ‘skills shortage’) – and while there is always a trickle-down effect in any capitalist system (and we must assume the falling pennies must have kept some businesses afloat through the construction phase), in my opinion this kind of ‘here today, gone tomorrow’ money has had very little long-term, positive impact on the integrity and longevity of our city.

    The balance sheet doesn’t read well in my view. A community of shack owners were swept aside without much consideration, compensation or legal recourse.  We, the Whyalla public, have been left with less recreational and culturally significant land to use, which has greatly impacted our ability to effectively market and develop the peninsula as a major tourist attraction (and thus, expand our economy and achieve the width and stability that we always craved, ironically enough) – and the baby boomers have wrapped it all up in a brown paper package tied up with string and gifted the children of tomorrow with a potentially cataclysmic environmental liability with very little to show for their sacrifice.

    Back to the future

    But let’s get an updated perspective. Step into my time machine and help yourself to a cup of tea and a sticky bun my friend! Set the dials for the year 2011! Errrrroooooah! Errrrrooooah! (insert appropriate time machine noises here)

    And…woooosh! Here we are. My, how things have changed. Whyalla has a McDonalds now. (That’s progress for you right there.)

    But all is not as it should be! For that very same Santos petrochemical plant, so lovingly described just a moment ago, has since sprung a few leaks…

    In May 2008 as part of routine testing, Santos discovered that hydrocarbons, including butane, propane and crude oil, had seeped into the groundwater beneath its holding tanks. To contain the damage and prevent the toxic spill from escaping into the gulf, Santos began constructing a 450 metre underground barrier worth several million dollars. A spokesperson for Santos stated that: “A systematic and thorough investigation into all possible sources is being conducted” and according to the Advertiser, “the company had no way of determining the level of contamination at the
    site and would not estimate how much pollution had leaked out.”

    Speaking to the ABC in May 2010, exactly two years after the leaks were first discovered, the EPA’s contamination’s manager Greg Hill said: “It’s a significant amount of hydrocarbon in the ground. I would say it will take many years before the issue is concluded” and ‘the source of the leak is yet to be fully identified’

    Hmm. Let’s just whip out a chunky red whiteboard marker and underline that point.

    SANTOS, a company valued at over eight billion dollars – supremely well capitalised, and one of Australia’s top thirty corporations, apparently can’t prevent, expediently detect the source of, or even properly manage a leak in one of its own plants?

    Gee – I don’t know – do you think we should be worried about this?

    In September 2010, United Research Services (URS) sent a report to Santos’ environmental advisor which contains a series of revealing environmental sampling results .  In the Ballast Pond sampling results,  suspended solids, turbidity, benzene, arsenic, zinc, ammonia, total hydrogen, phosphorus (and in one sample, mercury and sulphide) were all observed at concentrations above the environmental protection (water quality) Policy 2003 (“WQP”) for protection of marine ecosystems.  In the intertidal zone sampling results, Petroleum hydrocarbons were detected in 12 of the 24 primary samples. BTEX compounds (an acronym that stands for benzene, toluene, ethylbenzene, and xylenes – classified as ‘volatile organic compounds’) were detected in 32 of the 73 samples and 8 of those exceeded the benzene concentration WQP marine criterion. Polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons and dissolved metals were also found above WQP marine criterion in some samples. Clearly these findings should be of some public concern.

    At the time of printing this article, and according to the ABC on the 25th of February 2011 , Santos now claims that it is “almost certain it has found all sources of the oil leak” and is blaming the problem on a faulty drain system, while the Environmental Protection Authority continues to investigate reports that the oil leak is bigger than originally thought. But regardless of any speculation or criticism about Santos’ handling of the situation or any long-term impacts that may result, this event usefully highlights a couple of things I think we all need to seriously think about.

    Risks

    Firstly, it doesn’t matter how much money and resources you have at your disposal – industrial infrastructure (including vehicles like oil tankers), inevitably ages and becomes more susceptible to damage and malfunction over time – and with that increase in unreliability, the probability of a leak, a spill or something worse must also increase. Even in a well run, well funded company with an apparently superb maintenance record, equipment failure is an inevitable consequence of mechanical and technological complexity. The more complicated something is, the more stuff can go wrong with it. And factories, refineries, modern industrial plants, bulk transports and tankers are examples of extremely sophisticated technology.
    Secondly, the point must be made that people are fallible and prone to errors of fact and judgement even at the best of times. After all, we are ‘only human’. But when dealing with toxic materials and processes, we must also admit that human error can be and has been damaging to both life and the environment in the past, and doubtless will be again.

    Now – put these two things together – industry and human beings – and then add a sensitive, diverse, and unique marine ecosystem into the mix. The presence of the marine eco-system does not increase the probability that the plant equipment will fail, or that the people will make a mistake. But what it does do however, is ensure that if mistakes are made, and if equipment does fail, the cost of that failure will result in significant and (most likely) irreversible damage to not only the environment and one of Australia’s most significant food sources, but also the very basis of our community’s future – an unavoidable non-mining based economy.

    We cannot completely manage the risk of either human error or mechanical and technological failure. BUT what we can do is effectively manage the risk to our marine environment simply by not encouraging, funding or supporting further industrial development in ecologically sensitive areas like the Lowly Peninsula, especially when there are so many valid alternatives.

    Again, using Santos as a relevant, retro-active example, even companies with ‘good’ reputations have had their share of close-calls and environmental catastrophes. As recently as 2006, Santos was partially responsible as a minor shareholder for the Banjar Panji toxic mud disaster in Indonesia, a gas exploration project which turned into a full-scale disaster when mud flows left 10,000 people homeless on the island of Java . Or, for something closer to home, in 1992, the double-hulled oil tanker “ERA” was punctured by the tug boat “Turmoil”, resulting in a 300 tonne oil spill that just happened to float towards the coastline South of Port Pirie rather than our own, and subsequently damaged kilometers of coastal mangroves. As local vet Andrew Melville Smith said in a well received power-point presentation in January 2010 , we were lucky it didn’t get pushed up the gulf into the shallow end of an inverted shallow estuary. Very, very lucky.

    Hold onto these points for a moment and let’s cast an eye over the developments that are being proposed for Point Lowly now in 2011:

    1)    A major deep-sea port facility designed to export iron ore and possibly even copper concentrate, located right in the middle of the famous Giant Cuttlefish breeding grounds. Think about the construction of the port, pile driving of the sea floor and what that may do to such a unique species and their chosen habitat. Think of the enormous quantities of ore and the hazardous materials that will be trucked through our regional areas.  Consider the potential impacts of the inevitable dust pollution and how this may affect our health, housing and heritage. Consider how this will destroy Whyalla’s growing and hard-won reputation as a safe place to live, and Lowly’s potential as an international tourist attraction.  Think about the indigenous people being locked out of more their dreaming sites, and what this would mean to an already decimated Indigenous culture. Consider the environmental impact of a cape-sized Super-tanker pulling up to the coast
    every few weeks, in such shallow water (plus the narrow margin of error this affords), and the devastating effect of any potential oil spill in the gulf. Think about the foreign micro-bacteria and barnacles clinging onto the hulls of such vessels, and the damage any introduced species may cause to our native marine plants, animals and fishing grounds  Oh – and speaking of fishing grounds, how much of the gulf will be enveloped by new industrial exclusion zones?  To top all of this off, it is the view of the Alternative Port Working Party  that the Point Lowly Flinders port option is inefficient, restrictive, risky, and isn’t  the most cost effective, strategic, long term solution! It is an expedient ,suboptimal, convenient, “quick and dirty” answer .

    2)    Next up, there’s the proposed BHP Billiton desalination plant. Expensive to run, and using non renewable energy, producing non-drinkable water, and located some 350 kilometres away from  the open ocean, this project has ‘bad idea’ written all over it. With intakes sucking in micro-organisms, a hyper saline discharge, toxic chemical discharge, and local waters affected by dodge tides, tidal movement (and then, no tidal movement for hours), with poor prospects for adequate dispersion, to claim a desalination plant will have no impact on our environment seems nothing short of delusional. In practical terms, altering the salt content of the sea for a Cuttlefish may be the metaphorical equivalent of altering the chemical composition of air we breathe. There can be no doubt that this project puts our marine species, food security and tourism potential under momentous long-term risk.

    3)    Finally, the already-approved diesel refinery at Point Lowly seems especially pointless and dangerous, given the problems Santos are having at the moment. Consider too, the long term issue of global warming. Do we really want to cling-to and encourage the development of out-dated, fossil-fuel based technology, despite the existence of cleaner, renewable energy sources like the solar oasis project, wind power, and geo-thermal – and when we are on the verge  of establishing a carbon based economy?

    For all intensive purposes, the state government appears to be addicted to mining royalties like a drug addict drawn to a crack house. State Labor is hell-bent on being as accommodating to mining giants (and minnows) as possible, even if it’s at the cost of adequate community consultation and participation (re: democracy) and the interests of future South Australian’s. To them, the Eyre Peninsula is just a big birthday cake.  We’re in the middle of the biggest carve up in history and all the big boys want a slice – while Jill and Joe average, predictably, are left eating crumbs and sucking on the candles.

    We’ve heard about the announcement of deep-water oil exploration at the mouth of the Spencer Gulf and the auctioning of titles in the middle of Port Lincoln’s Tuna Fishing grounds. We’ve heard about Onesteel’s proposed desalination plant but none of the potential impacts. We’ve heard about Uranium SA’s uranium leeching project just to the South of Whyalla, but not the potential risks to the mangroves and the water table. We’ve heard about Arafura Resources’ proposed billion dollar Rare Earth’s processing facility with its sulphuric acid plant and capacity to handle radioactive materials – all located just a hop-skip from a residential area – but again, we’re being baited with the potential upside and little mention risks of any potential environmental, health or social impacts. How about the Cultana
    Army range expansion adjacent to the Point Lowly Peninsula?  Why here? Why now? What is all this going to do to the cost of living? How about the dream of economic equality? Housing affordability? Lots of people have asked questions but nobody has heard any decent answers.

    Perhaps the most important point to make about all of this is that no project exists within a bubble in complete isolation. There is interplay between projects as everything draws on and shares the same set of basic resources. Therefore, it must be said that the potential impact of all this development is, in essence, cumulative. The combination of activity is likely to be much more damaging than the projects are individually, with the risk of disaster rising exponentially like compound interest with each new development.  Sadly, the cumulative effect of this industrial activity will decimate the Lowly Peninsula and could likely destroy the Spencer Gulf’s  marine environment.

    Conclusion

    It’s fair to say that even a five year-old understands that actions have consequences. If you keep putting your hand into the cookie jar, you’re going to get a smack sooner or later. But some consequences are less obvious and measurable than others. And although arguments based around such consequences may be emotionally charged, that does not make such arguments automatically invalid.

    We all have fireplace stories to tell of school excursions to Lowly on impossibly hot days and nights, and exciting fishing adventures in tin-bottomed boats; of weekend getaways and grand final celebrations, of long afternoon’s snorkelling in the sun, splashing among the dolphins and the cuttlefish. Memories like these swim happily in our collective consciousness. The recollections may differ in the detail, but they are, in essence, shared experiences that define us as an interconnected community – we are a tribe – and not just a meandering group of disassociated individuals. It is important for us all to realise that a connection with place, whether that place is a house, a netball club or the pub down the street, is an essential part of what makes us human beings. Point Lowly is part of our cultural tradition and a part of this community, like a sister or a brother – and by default, like it or not, we are its appointed guardians. Like the Aboriginal people who believe they belong to the land and are its caretakers rather than its owners, we have a very clear responsibility to preserve the integrity of the Point Lowly Peninsula, the surrounding coastal environment and Upper Spencer Gulf for future generations. Our grandchildren must surely be entitled to the same fundamental human rights we have grown accustomed to. The right to fish from the sea (and expect to catch something). The right to breathe clean air (and expect not to catch something). And, as local retired engineer Sid Wilson once said to me – the right to visit heaven without going though hell to get there.

    The question then for Point Lowly, our species and every other creature on the planet remains the same – is it really too late to do anything about the industrialisation of the Upper Spencer Gulf? Ultimately, it’s a question only you can answer.

    Your continued silence is interpreted by those in power as a form of consent. By remaining passive, disengaged from other people and sticking your head in the sand, the Government can continue to ride rough-shod over the entire Eyre Peninsula and get away with whatever it ikes. However, by speaking up and acting together, we can still put a stop to this appaling farce and hold the government to account for pandering to the prevailing attitude of corporate entitlement and greed that continues to cause so much damage to the world.

    On the other hand, if we concede defeat on this very small stage we have been given to protect, it is not unreasonable to surmise that the obituary of the Lowly Peninsula, the Spencer Gulf and humanity has indeed, already been written.

    - By Richard Parker

    References

    (1) Scheiffers, Sue, P.114, A Ribbon of Steel: Whyalla Surges Ahead. Lutheran Publishing House, Adelaide: 1985.

    (2)  Scheiffers, Sue,.P.118, A Ribbon of Steel: Whyalla Surges Ahead. Lutheran Publishing House, Adelaide: 1985.

    (3) Rodrigues, Sam, Adelaide Advertiser. January 15th2010, “Santos still looking for toxic leak” http://tinyurl.com/29em6bh, (accessed October 5th, 2010).

    (4) ABC News Online, May 19th 2010, “Santos oil leak to take ‘years’ to fix” http://tinyurl.com/29u6kug, (accessed October 5th, 2010)

    (5) UPS letter to Santos Ltd Environmental Advisor, September 3, 2010, “Port Bonython: summary of May/June 2010 Water Sampling Results” pp 2-4 (leaked .pdf document)

    (6) ABC News Online, Feb 25 2011, “Drain Blamed for Santos Leak”, http://tiny.cc/w5dve (Accessed March 13, 2011)

    (7) Sydney Morning Herald, August 12 2006, “Disaster zone grows in toxic mud spill” http://tinyurl.com/2a7udro (accessed October 5th 2010)

    (8) Melville-Smith, Andrew, January 2010 ”Presentation part 1 to Whyalla Council debate oil moratorium”, http://tiny.cc/vt59i (accessed October 5th 2010)

  • May2nd

    Welcome drug addict, to the story of your addiction to oil. Yes, every one of us is totally addicted to oil. Wonderful stuff this oil. It has us all hooked regardless of our age, gender, race, colour or religion.  And guess what ….. there is not enough to go around, so pretty soon we are going to be paying through the nose for our oil fix and those that can’t pay …. well they will starve to death. Welcome to the slow slippery slide to the point where when oil becomes so scarce we end up killing each other over it.  Welcome to thermonuclear war and the end of the planet, as we know it and possibly the human race.

    Does this have to be our future? Can we cure our addiction? Or have we past the point of no return where there are simply so many of us requiring so much oil, that there is simply not enough time to develop and deploy alternatives before our supply gets so low, we end up killing each other over it. And in case you think this is a fantasy, it has already started with America’s invasion of Iraq. As one person said “Do you think America would have invaded Iraq if their main export was broccoli?”

    Oil is cheaper per litre than beer, cask wine, milk, orange juice and even bottled water. Oil is a finite geological resource, never to be repeated in any time frame of significance to us and yet here we are using it in ever increasing amounts without the slightest thought of the future. This  is criminally short-sighted behaviour and we are fortunate that time separates us from future generations who will have some rather unpleasant things to say to this generation.

    To get a glimpse of the predicament we are currently in, you need to appreciate what we use oil for.  Oil is used to produce the dams, pipes and equipment to store and distribute water and is the fuel that runs the pumps to move the water to where it is needed.  Oil is used for fertilizers, farm machinery, harvesting, storage and distribution of produce to the factories, for processing and packaging of food and distribution to supermarkets and finally for us to go shopping at the supermarket. Oil is used to mine the raw materials from the ground, ship them to China, to run the factories in China, to ship the finished product to Australia and on to the retail store and eventually to the end consumer.  In short, we are totally addicted to oil.

    This raises the interesting question, can we avoid disaster?  The answer is NO. The previous generation were so selfish, they chose to ignore the problem and leave the solution to us. In short, our parents have robbed us of the chance of avoiding disaster and a crash is now a mathematical certainty.

    So here we are at the end of 2011, with over 6.9 Billion people and growing at the rate of 70 million per year – which means the population will double in the next 60 odd years. Our current reserves of oil are estimated at 1 trillion barrels of oil and we are using 80 million barrels of oils a year and this increases every year.  This means we will use the lot in the next 10 to 20 years. Even if our reserve estimates are wrong and we have two or three times as much oil, that still means our oil supply will be exhausted in 30 to 60 years. Of course we have to realise that, as we use up all the oil, it will become harder to get and production will fall behind demand and then the trouble starts. And when we burn a trillion barrels of oil, we will be dumping huge amounts of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, increasing global warming and further adding to our problems with food, water and habitability.

    Is the situation hopeless?  The answer is NO. This generation, the people in the 30 to 60 year age group have a clear choice. We can make changes, or continue on as normal and enjoy the good life for the next 10 to 30 years. But we need to be perfectly clear that by doing so, we leave the next generation with no choices and we
    place the survival of the human race in extreme jeopardy.  It would be tragic if the human race became extinct. All our technology, science, culture and languages would be lost forever. We need to remember, this has happened before on a local level with past civilizations such as the Babylonians. We are now repeating this on a global scale The alternative choice involves a complete rethink and restructuring of the way we live and interact with the planet. It involves sacrifices for our children and grandchildren. It involves a re-education and mobilization of the population on a scale never seen before and it requires us all to put aside our differences and concentrate on one goal: survival.

    So after all the pessimism, what are the solutions that will soften the crash when it comes? The start is easy. We need to recognise that we are the problem. There are far too many of us and we need a clear statement from the Prime Minister that Australia is overpopulated. Then we can restructure our society so that our population starts to decline. When we have achieved a declining population, Australia can be a world leader and show other countries by example how they can reduce their population.

    Next we need a ten year plan to reduce our fossil fuel use to 10% of today’s consumption by reducing the amount of available oil every year whilst supplying massive subsidies for electric and fuel cell vehicles and public transport. This transition would involve a huge education campaign to sell alternatives, responsible vehicle use, public transport and video conferencing rather than travel.

    Our energy supply would require a complete overhaul. All coal fired power stations would need to be shut down within 10 years and replaced with solar, wind, geothermal and tidal power.  Every building in Australia should be required to provide all their hot water and 80% of the of power needs from solar or renewable power on site.

    Manufacturers need to be  made responsible for the collection of their products and recycling at the end of their products life. Every single box and container should have a deposit and be recycled. The word disposable should be banned and nothing should go into land fill. The motto of the day should be: If you can’t recycle it, you can’t have it.

    We will have to change our ideas about water. We will need to ensure that every house in Australia has and uses a large rainwater tank. All waste water should be 100% recycled and mixed with some desalinated and storage water to form our water supply for topping up our tanks when there is not enough rain. Further, we need to recognise that the export of food represents the export of huge quantities of water and oil. We need to change our exports from food to expertise and technology to enable countries overseas to manage their populations and grow food locally.

    We need to rebuild our cities into smaller towns separated by native bushland and habitat where people live and work in their town  Travel between towns needs to be reduced to a minimum and then done on public transport and replaced where ever possible by video conferencing.

    Finally, we need to restore equity in the population with opportunity for everyone with the academic ability to go to university free of charge and we need to close the wage gap between the executives and the general population. Utopian maybe, but these are the solutions we will need to implement if we want a future for our children. It is up to us – this generation – to kick the oil habit. Put simply, this is our last chance to provide a future for the human race.

    - Dr Andrew Melville Smith

  • April23rd

    Deja vu

    Posted in: Uncategorized

    Deja vu, ‘an illusory feeling of having already experienced a present situation’  (French = ‘something already seen’). Such moments are uncommon for me but are memorable when they happen. One of those flashbacks which sent shivers down my spine happened during the previous Federal Government’s tenure when the Prime Minister and others talked up their policy of indefinitely detaining men, women and children asylum seekers in desert and remote island prisons. When this was justified in emotional outbursts such as “we will decide who comes to our country and the manner in which they come” I was suddenly taken back to a film clip I had seen of Adolph Hitler regaling an adoring audience with similar emotional appeals and dramatic pauses. I did not understand the words he said but didn’t need to in order to see the similar abuse of power and the ability of intelligent people to abandon reason in favour of emotion.

    Those who actively opposed building a fractionation plant on Weeroona Bay back in the 1980′s (it seems like yesterday) are also struck by a deja vu flashback to that time by the recent State Government’s promotion of greatly expanded industrialisation of the Point Lowly Peninsula. Many tactics by the original SANTOS developers are now being repeated by the proponents for industrialisation of Point Lowly:
    •    The recreational value of the site targeted is down-played. The choice of the seldom used name ‘Stony Point’ over ‘Weeroona Bay’ for the 1980′s SANTOS development has its equivalent in today’s use of ‘Port Bonython’ over ‘Point Lowly Peninsula’ which has a long and strong association with family outings, holidays and relaxation.

    •    For both SANTOS and the present proposals, the benefits to Whyalla are given religous status while the loss of recreation access and quality of life is not even acknowledged. Aileen Ekblomb, Whyalla Mayor in the 1980′s, assured us that we would have access right up to the SANTOS fence. It seemed of no consequence to her where the fence would need to be. The present statement from Robert Jenkins for the state government that we would even be able to have a better view of the cuttlefish from the new export jetty is just as misleading; rather like promoting dying because you’d look good in a coffin!

    •    The opponents against SANTOS being built right on the best coastal recreation area within 100 kilometres of Whyalla, were painted at the time as anti employment or part of the ratbag fringe. This time round the Cuttlefish Coast Coaliton has already been falsely blamed by one councillor for vandalism attacks on his business premises in spite of zero evidence.

    Unfortunately the fight against entrenched interests, whether American slave owners who declared they could not afford to grow cotton without slave labour or today’s developers taking the cheapest way out in spite of the long term costs to others, is always fought in the face of general community apathy. A dedicated minority will always take up the fight when it is needed but clearly they often lose.

    Fortunately the fight is won often enough to keep hope alive that this time public opinion will join with the common good and the cause will be unstoppable.

  • July1st

    A number of years ago, South Australian poet Geoff Goodfellow gave a performance to students at a Whyalla school. He performed a number of his poems, and spoke about the writing process. The students could understand many of the themes in his work; domestic violence, divorce, drug abuse, rape, the impact of overtime and abortion. In more ways than one, he is not a pretty poet. He is, however, a creator of strong imagery.

    When one student asked Goodfellow what he would write about Whyalla, he said that he didn’t know this town, and challenged the students to write about their town. He said to start with a strong image or idea, and build from there. Many students immediately began with the negatives of the town; of rubbish in the bush, dust in the air or weekend boredom. If I were to set a similar task today I can imagine many of the responses would be, unfortunately, of a similar ilk.

    I clearly remember what my response was to that task in 2000. I was going to start with the giant rudder. What a symbol. What a shame, too, that it was positioned on top of a hill, where, unattached to a ship, it was useless and impotent. The symbol became a metaphor…we had a ship left high and dry on the outskirts of BHP, to develop the theme. And so the idea of the Good Ship Whyalla was born in my mind.

    The Good Ship Whyalla sailed happily through the decades of the 40’s and 50’s. But then things went astray. Like rats deserting a sinking ship,

    the population fled. Some of those left behind began to bail furiously, desperate to keep themselves and the GS Whyalla afloat. Others went along for the ride. At some stage, that giant rudder was placed like a tombstone above the town, leaving the GS Whyalla rudderless, drifting…the outback meeting the sea and slowly going under.

    At about this time, rumours were flying thick and fast…I remember some wit proclaiming that Whyalla produced more rumours than it did steel. Some of these rumours of course came true, but many never have…like the ship-breaking plant, the solar-oasis project, the rebirth of ship-building, and so on. Thankfully, however, the ship appears to be back on course. But is it?
    The clear cry of the early days of this century was on long-term sustainable development. The snapper fishing competition and the fishy fringe is an example of this. So too is the cuttlefish tourism industry. Now suddenly the boom is here, and Whyalla has gone into growth overload.

    Unfortunately the rudder is still on top of that hill, and not attached to the boat. A report in the Advertiser (March 19th 2008) suggested that Whyalla’s population was predicted to reach 35,000 by 2018 and 80,000 by 2050. If this is the case, then we had better plan our route and work closely with the navigator lest we be dashed upon the rocks and reefs. We have only narrowly avoided some of these hidden snags in recent years…such as the farcical foreshore redevelopment plan, the giant something on the foreshore and the banning of the public to Mount Laura.

    Still hidden is the proposed second jetty for ore loading at Point Bonython. What will be the effect on Point Lowly and the cuttlefish?

    Still hidden is the question of an adequate water source. If we struggle to supply 22,000 with water, how will we sustain 80,000?

    Still hidden is the question of infrastructure and resources. If we struggle to supply 22,000 with enough doctors and nurses and teachers, how will we sustain 80,000?

    Still hidden is the question of wage inequity. With the mines and associated industries being forced to offer extravagant wages, how will other industries like aquaculture be able to compete, and hold employees in their industry? These are interesting times, and the optimism in the community is a positive thing. Yet every time I drive by that rudder…

    - The mysterious ‘eccles’

  • July1st

    I was too young to remember when I began to start going out to Point Lowly with my family. My mum has told me the stories of me as a three year old crying because of the seaweed! But my fear of seaweed obviously didn’t last too long because the only memories I have of Point Lowly are happy ones. Fishing with my family, playing in the sand dunes with my younger brother, spending countless Christmas lunches overlooking the water, and spending hours down on the rocks looking in the pools for rock crabs. I have spent my whole life, like many Whyalla residents, enjoying all the wonderful things that Point Lowly has to offer.

    Now as a 24 year old High School Teacher, while my spare time is now limited, I still like to enjoy as much time as possible at Point Lowly. It’s my escape from the realities of everyday life in Whyalla. I have always hoped that my children could enjoy the same things I have enjoyed in my childhood at Point Lowly, but since the proposed development issue has come up I have began to wonder whether this will ever happen. That’s why I have become a member of the Cuttlefish Coast Coalition. I have always believed in standing up for what you believe in and what is right.

    Industrialising the Point Lowly Peninsula is wrong. Not only will it minimise the recreational facilities in Point Lowly – but who would want to go out there anyway, with unsightly areas such as those proposed? The area is known for it’s beautiful scenery, and the thought of the developments out there almost makes me sick. I can’t imagine going out there to fish or swim with a Refinery Site in the background.

    The environment and marine life are also coming under threat. The proposed Deep Sea Port will be the site for the transportation of Copper Concentrate. Can you imagine the disastrous effect it would have on the marine life if it were to come in contact with the water? Has the State Government considered the implications on our Cuttlefish?

    Also, the area is of high significance for the local Barngarla People. The Point Lowly Peninsula is full of Indigenous heritage – including the dreaming surrounding the Seven Sisters. Preserving this history should be considered a high priority for the next generation.

    Don’t get me wrong – I am not against development all together – but development which threatens the area is wrong. Point Lowly has huge potential in terms of eco-tourism, which would bring money and employment opportunities to the Whyalla community, but at the same time is environmentally friendly. The environmental sustainability of the area should be our number one priority.

    This issue has hit Whyalla residents like a storm, dividing us into two groups. It is interesting to listen to people’s viewpoints – which is something that is increasingly becoming a regular part of my day. Informing and making people aware has quickly become a huge passion of mine. Being a part of this is much better than sitting back and doing nothing at all.

    I want to end this article by asking the question; what are you doing to stop this? Because in twenty years if this goes ahead don’t be left thinking ‘I wish I did something’. Please show your support and help save Whyalla’s backyard. Sign the petition, write letters to the paper or our local politicians – stand up and be proactive in this fight – together we can make a difference!

    - Sarah Bradbury

  • July1st

    It doesn’t matter how tough you are or how many dump trucks you can bench-press at the gym on a Monday afternoon, I think everyone is afraid of something. Some people are scared of heights. Others are terrified of spiders.  A fear of the bogeyman (or ‘bogies’, assuming there is more than one running around your particular neighborhood) is called Bogyphobia. If you’re afraid of peanut butter getting stuck to the roof of your mouth, that’s called Arachibutyrophobia (which also happens to be impossible to pronounce with a mouthful of peanut butter). Personally, I have an irrational fear about jamming my head inside a George Foreman lean mean grilling machine. But there are some things that seem to crop up on just about everybody’s heeby-jeeby list. Death, public speaking, David Bowie bursting out of a birthday cake in tights, and – perhaps the most nightmarish of them all – unemployment.

    As children, we all dream about being ‘something’ when we grow up – a firefighter, a doctor, a hairdresser – or perhaps even one of those twenty-metre tall Japanese robots complete with eyeball lasers and twin-linked shoulder-mounted missile launchers. Ask twenty kids and you’ll probably get twenty different answers. But I can almost guarantee that no child wants to grow up to be the guy standing in line at Centrelink, watching themselves on a closed circuit television and left wondering how, when and why their lives went so terribly wrong. I should know – because not so long ago, that guy was me.


    Being unemployed can suck harder than a nuclear powered dust buster cranked up to ‘full suck’. When you don’t have a job, the lack of cash can make supporting a family, paying the bills and putting food on the table tougher than the twelve tasks of Hercules. Socioecomic disadvantage is socially isolating, stigmatizing and has consistently been linked with poor mental and physiological health.  Self esteem takes a major battering, identity is flushed down the toilet, stress levels skyrocket and destructive behavior like over-eating, increased alcohol consumption, substance abuse and gambling can all become major problems for the most vulnerable members of our community. Make no mistake about it: unemployment is a divisive, corrosive force that can degenerate into a destructive, self-fulfilling, intergenerational prophecy.

    So it’s important to acknowledge right from the off – jobs are extremely important.

    But I wish to use this space to ask some very important questions. Should generating employment (indiscriminant of long-term value) be our society’s primary concern above everything else and to the exclusion of everything else? Or are there other factors we need to consider when consciously designing the kind of society in which we wish to live? Is our standard of living more important than the standard of living and human rights of our children and grandchildren? And finally, how much is a job actually worth – and what is the price we are ultimately willing to pay?

    If there’s one place in South Australia that is intimately familiar with the concept of “paying a price”, it has to be Whyalla.

    Just about everyone is aware of our long and inglorious history of high unemployment (and of course, all the issues that go along with it). As a ‘one company town’, we have often lacked the imagination, will, leadership and support to successfully expand our economic diversity beyond the steelworks and mining-based industry, which has made us particularly vulnerable to external market forces. This has created enormous instability in the past, and a climate where everyone is constantly looking over their shoulders waiting to get tapped -  I guess you could refer to this as ‘employment anxiety’. This anxiety is perhaps the major factor that has driven regional politics over the last fifty years – and it’s an issue that has consistently been leveraged and manipulated for political and private gain.

    There was a time when the Whyalla Council probably would have approved a nuclear waste dump on viscount slim avenue if it came with the promise of half a dozen construction jobs and a friendly smack on the arse. The good news however, is that the merest mention of the word ‘jobs’ is no longer an automatic ‘I win’ card in modern public discourse. Whyalla has started to grow wise to the fact that not every opportunity has a silver lining, and not every multinational mega-corp that knocks on our door necessarily has our best interests at heart.

    The proposed development of the Point Lowly Peninsula is clearly the most relevant and recent example of this. Because while the construction of a desalination plant, a deep-sea port and storage facility, diesel refinery and an ammonium nitrate explosives plant may seem an attractive proposition to some in terms of economic stimulus, these developments may in fact cost more jobs than they create, especially over the long-term. If  heavy industry causes damage to the peninsula and its unique marine environment (as suggested by many academics and environmentalists) our tourism, aquaculture and future food security is also likely to be irreversibly damaged.  And if the mining boom threatens our ability to sustain ourselves over the centuries to come, is that not the very definition of a price too high?

    The potential to develop Industries that are infinitely sustainable is about to be sacrificed for the development of industries that are not – and our political leaders are once again, asking us to put all our eggs in one basket while spending the next thirty years playing ‘don’t drop the basket’.

    Mining jobs are based on a limited resource – the ore (or whatever material is being exploited), will eventually run out – and when that happens, any associated jobs will inevitably evaporate like the steam from a hot Chinese takeaway. So what then? Has anybody thought about what comes after the mining boom? The political stooges that claim to lead us evidently haven’t bothered to look that far ahead. Their blind, idiotic, short-sighted and misplaced optimism leads them to believe that everything will be okay – there will be no spill. Human beings won’t and don’t make mistakes. Greed and personal interest never take precedence over the public good. The legal system never fails. The suit and tie crowd in Adelaide will always take care of us. These assumptions leave Whyalla without a viable plan B. The future we are currently barreling towards is a grim one. Without a sense of restraint, responsibility and the sensible preservation of the environment that supports us, the next generation is set to inherit a credit-card debt unlike any other – an inhabitable industrial wasteland potentially incapable of sustaining life, let alone an entire community. And without a healthy ocean to feed us, without an unspoiled tourist attraction to support our economy, without an accessible recreation area to nourish our sprits,   Whyalla will slowly slip into a state of redundancy.

    The mining boom also presents us with a number of issues we need to contend with now as well – including a series of social and economic inequities that I believe this community is just not prepared for.  House prices for example will grow exponentially, which will make some property developers billions of dollars – but put even the most modest dwelling far beyond the reach of young people, single parent families and low to middle income earners. Rents also, will soar to ridiculous levels due to the shortage of adequate public housing. Many people without a job in heavy industry will probably be worse off, as a chasm opens up between those who have and those who do not.  And while those at the top insist that the big bucks eventually trickle through to the bottom, this seldom seems to be the case – as highlighted by the Whyalla City Plaza traders during the last boom – and underlined by the aggressive media campaign run by some of Australia’s most powerful mining corperations, crying poor and railing against a more equitable taxation system. And when it comes to mining profits, how much of the wealth dug from the ground actually stays in the region?

    It is important to consider the fact that the majority of mining and construction jobs are occupied by men – will an influx of mining jobs further disadvantage women in a relative sense, creating even more sex-based inequity in Whyalla, a city with a high percentage of single mothers who realistically, are unable to engage in such employment opportunities? Has there been any investment by the government in local infrastructure and services, public transport or any research into the potential social and cultural consequences of another local mining boom? And if our past local councils have struggled to manage our income and assets – and implement basic triple bottom line accounting – how will we ever cope with a population explosion? An influx of people will inevitably put pressure on schools and hospitals, housing and public services  – all while pushing the cost of living up and up and up. The government’s grand illusion is that we, average working (and non working) people of Whyalla, will gain from the development of point lowly – the reality is, over the long term and without a pristine environment on which to base sustainable industry, we will lose.