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ONE day, many years ago, so the legend says, a man
from the outlying districts beyond Mittagong wandered into a hotel
in that town during one of his monthly visits. In the bar
conversation switched from the weather to crops and wool and all
manner of things, and eventually centred on a candle which was
burning in the bar. Our friend from outback drew a small piece of
dark stone from his pocket and commented that, "these are the only
candles we use out my way." He held the stone over the candle flame,
and, to the amazement of all, it spluttered and burned. "Witches,"
and "the devil," several murmured, but our friend took it as a
matter of course and, extinguishing the lighted stone, laid it on
the bar counter. Curious hands fingered it and voices buzzed and
rose to a crescendo while a stranger strolled over and addressed our
friend. "Excuse me," he said, picking up the curiosity, "but where
did you get this stuff?" "Oh," our friend replied, "there's plenty
of that near where I live—out by the Wingecarribee." "Thanks; much
obliged," said the stranger, and, pocketing the specimen, he
departed. Needless to say, the stone was none other than oil-bearing
shale, the richest in Australia, and in it the stranger saw the
vision of a new industry.
And there the legend ends, for legend it is to all
save the local inhabitants, and notwithstanding that it was
published in a newspaper of the time as an authentic record of the
finding of kerosene shale at Joadja Creek.
The Birth of an Industry
When the shale was located, with seams of coal,
below the sandstone escarpments which crown the valley slopes of
Joadja Creek, samples were taken, and by analysis estimated to yield
100 gallons of crude oil to the ton—a most remarkable result. This
news was like a magnet—a company was formed to exploit the deposits
and ample capital subscribed. Commercial activity soon made its
presence felt in the district, and plant and buildings were put
under construction. Carpenters, stone masons, labourers and others
came to add their quota, and the valley, once peaceful and secluded,
resounded to the ring of the axe, the clang of the blacksmith's
anvil, and the thud of the mason's chisel and mallet.
A tent village sprang up almost overnight, but
gradually gave way to more orderly and dignified habitations. No
pains were spared in the planning of the project. It would be a
model city in the bush and it would be laid out properly. In this
site just near the creek the residential section would be built, and
the streets would be planted with ornamental English trees; and, so
that the houses would be decent dwellings, a brick-making plant was
erected to manufacture bricks locally. Across the stream on a slight
eminence, would be the manager's house, and beyond that the school,
post office and other semi-official buildings. In the feverish
excitement and enthusiasm the plant for the industry itself was not
neglected. The retorts were established in another corner of the
valley, and chimney stacks and furnaces built nearby. Two bridges
were built across the creek, one for ordinary traffic and the other
to accommodate the tramway which ' was to'-carry the shale from the
mine to the retorts. This was extended up the southern 'side of the
valley to the top of the sandstone scarp, so that the refined
products could be hauled out by a windlass in wheeled tanks.
Success
and Failure
Some time elapsed before the works were ready for
production because some of the machinery and other essential plant
had to be imported from abroad. Finally, in 1880, production was
begun and carried on very efficiently for some years, the coal with
which the shale occurs being used to stoke the furnaces. No doubt it
was a grand project. Even transport problems fell beneath its
momentous and impetuous rush; the 16 miles to Mittagong, .the
nearest railway town, was spanned by a railway specially constructed
in 1882 to carry the finished products to Sydney, and bring back any
other goods and merchandise. The industry was hailed by critics of
Australia's isolated position as the nation's salvation, and there
seemed nothing to hinder its progress. The settlement grew in size,
reaching a thousand souls, and all the amenities of town life were
provided; the town thrived and men came from all directions looking
for work in that busy little valley which a few short years before
had been immune from the influences of civilization.
But this industry of dreams was doomed to
failure—the activity was short lived. In 1889 the refining works
were demolished and moved, but the mining of shale continued till
1899, when industrial troubles caused a temporary closure. Finally
in 1904 the mine closed down indefinitely, as the shale was said to
be worked out, and the model township was abandoned. And so Joadja
faded into the gloomy past and became a place of ghosts where these
thirty years the hum and smoke of industry have not been heard or
seen.
One or two attempts were made to re-establish the
shale oil industry at Joadja, but none of them was on a large scale
and all have been abandoned almost as soon as they started. At the
present day the valley is a pitiful sight of economic desolation—the
influences of nature are beginning to regain their hold, and the
chimney stacks poke starkly into the azure sky surrounded by tall
graceful gums and unchecked blackberry bushes. The ornamental trees
in the residential section have run riot and, as if in shame, hide
from worldly gaze the ruined dwellings, no longer neat and tidy, but
dilapidated and unkempt. Most of the buildings have weathered and
are in ruins; brick walls have collapsed, and roofs blown away, but
the chimney stacks still stand as solitary monuments to a lost
industry. Recently all iron work and other materials, even to the
bell in the school house, were salvaged and taken away, and the
outward signs of industry will soon have vanished. Then at last the
beauteous silence of nature will reign supreme once more. |
