Charters Towers: Gold, GOLD, GOLD!!

Charters Towers, Qld

Gold! GOLD!!   GOLD!!!

That was some time ago, though.

      Leaving the Tourist Mecca of Cairns wasn't easy, because when you look at it, we were on the Pig's Back in a big way. Here we were, neatly 'in' at the Edmonton caravan park, near a pub, alongside a Jayco Dealer, right on the highway, a bit south of Cairns but with a local contact of many years' standing, someone who knew everybody we needed to know.  What do we do? We have a top night BBQ and wined-up (or is that wind-up?) to meet and enjoy our hosts' hospitality, and then we shoot through.  A roll-up at Edmonton Bowls Club (avoiding the owls that are supposed to keep the feral birds at bay) and after joining Fullers Club for a meal and a small investment programme, and then a day touring with our local guide, Q, we leave the Kuranda Markets and the Atherton Tableland and off we go.  Q is well-known and respected and has previously helped us out. But onward, outward, ever questing - we go.

Near Burdekin. No burning today, so no Burdekin Snow - the soot from the canefields. Most are Green-cut today.

The landscape changed radically as we avoided the un-marked police cars and slipped through the early morning road-works and canefields towards Townsville. The V8 Supercars would have been great to watch but we headed west towards the magical mining section of Queensland's Central North. Further inland we'd have found Mt Isa but first, Charters Towers.
     First gold find was in the 1800s, and local guff has it that after some horses bolted, a 12-year-old lad called Jericho found both the horses - for which he was probably rewarded - and some gold, for which I doubt justice was done.  Mind you, his name is remembered and his exploits repeated. The resultant town features masonary monuments and edifices beyond most Queenslanders' imaginations. The main street boasts wonderful examples of Edwardian style found nowhere except in the great mining towns of the past. Even banks no longer in existence had head offices here.

The Town Hall is magnifient, just one more impressive reminder of the wealth extracted in the Golden Years.

Stock Exchange Mall. Great lunch and tint museum.

Charters Towers Services Bowling Club. Friendly, carpet, stuffed shade system.

We found the Bowls club and had a roll-up. As is often the case, sheer chance put us alongside Lorraine (once) Gibbons and her husband from Eyre Peninsula, SA. Zan & I got a game of casual fours and we both kept our records intact, albeit a draw in my case. Good fun!  

We really enjoyed our Park, (left) with strips of tropical plants between each site.

The people were, as always, an interesting and varied lot, and gave us plenty of encouragement and tips re places and things to see.

At dinner provided by the local Lions Club, a local historian spoke about the mining and pioneering days of the town and district, and it was as if the pages of history opened and let us in.  His style was relaxed, well informed and totally credible. No bullshit or personal style, he connected many of the questions I had about the current situation where mining is conducted almost as a quiet aside, with the general population not to be taken into the company confidence. He listed off half a dozen staples of mining activities without letting the cat out of the bag, but the size and frequency of the trains passing through Charters Towers indicate the success of the ventures.

        Not having any success next day  at getting lunch in the pubs of the town, we deliberately  avoided the pseudo-bakeries and kept looking, finally discovering the Stock Exchange Mall.  This was in other past mining towns apparently a rare thing, for the punters to be able to openly and legally invest in the boom. Dangerous and exciting events, mining booms and stock exchanges when acting together!!  Fortunes were 'made and lost' so the historian said, but my thought was immediately that the rich and famous must have had a wonderful time here, watching as might have the Greek gods as the mere mortals hurled thamselves into the fray. Inevitablility was a Greek theme, and losing your shirt to a shyster or a paper gold rush featured as large as life here. The money was made in legendary amounts, the official records alone making the gold extracted valued at more than some European countries were worth at the time. And probably still are, if you take Greek accounting at face value.

                     The magnificent  Royal Hotel is now a Private Hotel, but it is in wonderful condition, its architectural style and dignity intact.

The customers of this Bank must have felt wonderful walking in to plonk down some more bags of cash. What a galling thought that all of it went back to England because the poms had the cash($900 000 dollars, because I don't know where the pounds sign is) to buy the main lode-line mine. Sixteen billion pounds worth of gold went zipping off to mother England before the sagging market made the owners offload the worst bits to others before simply walking away.

Enough.  Sure, the heady days of the past, with everybody in town frenetically chasing the golden dream, might be past, but I get the feeling that the rich and those in the know are still in hot pursuit, albeit in different vehicles!

We packed last thing at night intending to head  off early to cover some ground (over 500 km) to Lake Maraboon, south of Emerald, tomorrow. The technique has stood us in good stead, because the first three hours of the day can be the quietest on the road in terms of traffic and nasty side and head winds.
Certainly we enjoy the trips, and Zan says happily each night before our departure " Look! Off on another holiday tomorrow!"