The former uranium mine, of Mary Kathleen, with its processing plant and associated township where over one thousand workers lived, has been ‘rehabilitated’. Now, all that’s left of this monumental project is the scarred hollow of an enormous open-pit mine and a bright blue pool that sits shimmering and toxic in the sunlight. No water-birds wade in its shallows, no fish swim in its depths, for this is a dead pool.
The only animals who are stupid enough to venture close to the mine itself, are curious humans. They come to gape at the unnatural colours of the water that has collected in the bottom of the diggings, ponder at the scars inflicted on the land… and take a selfie, of course.
The bright blues of the water were not caused, as I first suspected, by hordes of grey nomads surreptitiously tipping their chemical-rich toilet cassettes into the pit, but by on-going leaching of heavy metals and radioactivity from the pit walls and the millions of tonnes of ‘tailings’ (mine waste) nearby. Some sources claim that the rehabilitation was botched and that clay should have been used to cover the tailings, rather than rock.
Mary Kathleen then became the site of Australia’s first major rehabilitation project of a uranium mine, which was completed at the end of 1985 at a cost of $19 million. The mining company covered the tailings with crushed rock instead of clay in order to save millions of dollars. The seepage of radioactive radium and thorium and toxic elements from the tailings has been much greater than if clay had been used as a relatively impermeable barrier. There is ongoing low-level uptake of heavy metals and radionuclides into vegetation. (Australian Nuclear and Uranium Sites)
The mine itself is a popular spot for day-trippers out of nearby Cloncurry (such as ourselves), or Mt. Isa, who like to test the suspension of their 4WDs over the appalling potholes – and some quite nasty washouts – on the unmaintained road. Some eejits even insist on towing their caravans down there, which is definitely NOT recommended.
Just up the road however, all sorts of rigs were enjoying a much more tranquil existence in the ‘ruins’ of the old township. Although, there’s not really any ruins left. All the buildings were auctioned off, and trucked away to be used as housing elsewhere. All that’s left are the concrete slabs where the buildings (including a school, shops, churches, and even an Olympic-sized swimming pool) once stood. And these old concrete slabs, amid all the available space, make for a very wonderful – and free – campground. There are no facilities of any kind, and you’ll need to cart all your water in, and all your rubbish out, but there is plenty to room to stretch out, and some mature trees for shade.
As we stopped for a sandwich on one of the old slabs, I observed around us the small community of travelers who had set up (temporary) home in the ghost of Mary Kathleen. Most had their solar panels out, and were soaking up the free energy provided by even a winter sun. As we had found in the preceding months, with even a solar modest set-up, and some agility, it was very possible to live off-grid full-time. Everything, including the production of solar panels and batteries, has some impact on the environment; but thinking again about the huge toxic scars the Mary Kathleen mine has left on the amazing landscapes of this part of Queensland, I wondered if there is some better way…
More info:
https://nuclear.australianmap.net/mary-kathleen-former-uranium-mine
