Mike Bellamy - Tough Outback

This book is dedicated to all the hard-working men and

women in the mining and construction industry, especially

those who Ive worked with over the years.

I WAS DIGGING OUT a house site on a windy, grey day in 1989 when a car pulled up and this tanned, lean, long-haired bloke hopped out. It was my old mate, Sammy, who I hadnt seen in ages.

How you going, Mike? he asked.

You havent been a naughty boy spending time at Her Majestys pleasure, have you, Sammy?

Bugger off, Mike. Ive been behaving myself, thank you very much. He laughed. Ive been over in WA working up in the mines on a D11N impact dozer.

The D11N was the largest dozer being produced by Caterpillar at the time, so I was surprised hed been let loose on one. How did you get on that thing, mate? Did you tell a few porkies to get a start?

Easy as! Thats why Im here, Mike. The company I work for is screaming out for operators, so they asked me if I knew of anyone they can give a start.

Man, Id love to give it a crack, but Ive got no experience on large gear.

You dont need any, Mike. Its not rocket science. So, what dyou reckon? Keen?

My oath! Why not?

It was to be the start of over 30 years working in the mining and construction industry in Australia.

* * *

On New Years Day 1990, Sammy and I boarded a British Airways flight direct to Perth, Western Australia (WA). The plane was almost empty, with about eight people at most in the economy cabin.

We decided to have a bit of a New Years celebration on the plane, so once wed settled in, I pushed the buzzer to summon a flight attendant.

A female flight attendant wandered up from the back. Yes, sir? she asked, with a look of resignation on her face. Will it be the same again? Two rums for you and two vodkas for your companion?

Thanks... I said, as I leaned across and squinted, trying to read her name badge, umm, Claudia.

About halfway into the flight, Sammy pressed the buzzer again. By that stage, neither of us was feeling any pain.

Claudia wheeled the drinks trolley up to us.

Hows it going, Claud? Two of the same, thanks, love, Sammy said to her.

Claudia just looked at us, clicked on the drinks trolleys brakes and walked off. Over her shoulder as she went, she said, Help yourselves, gentlemen.

Youre a legend, Claud, Sammy called after her. You know, Mike? he looked at me Shed have to be the nicest air hostess Ive ever met.

A few hours and a few more drinks later, we landed in Perth. Going through Customs, we both desperately tried to act as if we were sober. Thankfully, it worked even if I did stuff up by opening a broom cupboard door, thinking it was the exit. If it had been nowadays, every buzzer and alarm would have gone off when Sammy got scanned.

The airport had nice, cool air-conditioning, which I didnt notice until I walked out through the sliding doors. Boom! Outside I was met by a cloudless, deep-blue desert sky and a lovely 40-degree summer day. While we waited for a Swan taxi, sweat started rolling off me.

As we hopped in our taxi, the big, burly driver asked, How you going, cob? Where are you heading?

St Georges Terrace, thanks, mate, Sammy replied.

As we made our way into the city, I noticed lots of dry scrub, gumtrees and sand, which changed as we got closer to central Perth, when the landscape became like an oasis, with lush, green grass, ponds and parks everywhere and the Swan River sparkling like a jewel against the sandy foreshore.

We pulled up outside a hotel amid the old limestone buildings on St Georges Terrace and, as I opened the taxi door boom! that heat hit me again, even though it was six oclock in the evening.

Man, its a hot place, Sammy.

Mate, this is nothing! He laughed. Wait till you get up to the bush 45 degrees every day and the flies will carry you away. You just wait!

Having checked into the hotel and dropped off our gear, we decided to catch the train out to Fremantle, to have a bite to eat.

As we rolled along through the suburbs towards the coast, I noticed all the grand old Federation homesteads built of limestone, with their gracious bullnose verandahs and their backyards scattered with purple-flowering jacaranda trees.

As we passed the bustling container port and headed over the Swan River into Fremantle, the sun was setting over the Indian Ocean and the horizon glowed like it was on fire. What a sight.

My thoughts were interrupted by the trains intercom announcing our arrival into Fremantle. The train door slid open boom! there was that bloody heat again.

Walking up Market Street, with its mixture of convict-built colonial-era buildings and grand old Federation-style pubs, I felt like Id gone back in time. I could almost feel the history of the port city. It was a novelty to sit outside on the footpath, drinking coffee at one of the many cafes that lined the main street, watching people stroll past on that warm summers night. That night, I fell in love with the place.

* * *

Back at the hotel the next morning, I was woken by Sammy banging on my door. I opened my bloodshot, bleary eyes and, with my head pounding, I got up and opened the door.

Even though he looked like death warmed up, Sammy was clearly a man on a mission. Come on, Mike, Ive got a mate down in his car who will give us a lift out to the mining companys HQ in Welshpool!

I quickly got dressed and headed downstairs. Boom! The heat hit me once again as we stepped outside and it was only 10 oclock.

Sammy introduced me to Dino, who worked with him in the mines up at Mount Gibson. We shook hands and I got in the car.

Sammy piped up. Were just going for a bit of a drive first, Mike, out of the city.

I thought, thats kind of Dino to show me around.

Well, we disappeared up some winding road out the back of Kalamunda. There was no air-con in the car so I was sitting in the 30-something-degree car while the other two were smoking something they shouldnt have been. To top it all off, I was dying of a hangover and ready to chuck.

Half an hour later, we pulled over in this discreet layby area, which was in the shade of some gumtrees. Dino turned the car off and I listened to the deafening noise of cicadas singing in the trees above us.

Dino quietly muttered to Sammy as an old Falcon pulled up right beside us. The driver wound his window down.

Whos he? the stranger asked, pointing at me.

Hes okay, hes my mate, Sammy replied.

By then, I was wondering what the hell was going on.

Dino handed the stranger some cash out the window and the stranger handed him some white powder in tiny, wee bags. I hadnt realised Sammy was into shady dealings.

It turned out their plan was to take some of their purchase back to the mines to sell. They worked hard and played hard. Drugs and heavy drinking were rampant in the mines back in the early nineties.

I perked up a bit as we neared Welshpool an industrial suburb about 10 kilometres southeast of the city centre, which was home to a number of mining companies. Parked out the front of the yards were rows of big dump trucks. As we drove along, I spotted triple-sevens, which were CATs most popular workhorses, as well as a number of 785s and 773s. Then there were the big dozers D9Ls, D10s and D11Ns and there was even a few 651E motor scrapers, which were the biggest ones Caterpillar made. I was in heaven.