The Ratters Of Lightning Ridge

By Richard Holmes

Australia is unique in that it is the home of 95% of the world's known black opal reserves, all buried beneath the dry Outback soil in a small area of New South Wales known as Lightning Ridge. Under existing laws an individual can hold only two mining claims that measure 50 meters, or roughly one acre in size. These restrictions do not exist in

• Language: English
• Publisher: Haystack Creatives
• Release date: Jul 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781953115669

Richard Holmes

Richard Holmes was born in London in 1945 and educated at Downside School and Churchill College, Cambridge. In 1974 his Shelley: The Pursuit won the Somerset Maugham Award and was described by Stephen Spender as ‘surely the best biography of Shelley ever written’. He is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, was awarded an OBE in 1992 and the Biographers' Club Lifetime Services to Biography Prize in 2014. He lives in London and Norwich with the novelist Rose Tremain.

Book preview

Foreword

Australia is unique in that it is the home of 95% of the world’s known black opal reserves, all buried beneath the dry Outback soil in a small area of New South Wales known as Lightning Ridge. Under existing laws an individual can hold only two mining claims that measure 50 meters by 50 meters, or roughly one acre in size. These restrictions do not exist in other parts of Australia.

Lightning Ridge is an area of the outback where many crooks, cutthroats, and thieves come to hide away from civilization. There are few people in the Lightning Ridge area. Everyone is highly suspicious of his neighbor and of what he is doing. Newcomers are not easily accepted. The paranoia of these people as they go about their daily lives, when it comes to mining and selling black opal, cannot be exaggerated. The people who steal from legitimate opal miners are called ratters.

The black opal in the Lightning Ridge area is mined in sedimentary rock dating to the Cretaceous Period, eighty to one hundred and thirty million years ago. The Lightning Ridge opal miners dig to a maximum depth of seventy feet, which has led some to ask the question: What might lie below the Cretaceous zone? In many places in Australia there exist volcanic intrusions of rock known as kimberlite that predate the Cretaceous period by millions of years. These kimberlite intrusions are sometimes the ‘host rock’ for diamonds. Could it be that if the Lightning Ridge miners dig deeper they might run into one of these pockets of kimberlite?

This adventure story centers around two leading characters: Rusty, a 40-year-old opal miner, and Kate, a 60-year-old, tough- as-nails woman who raises sheep and cattle when she is not mining opal. This story, I believe, captures a sense of intrigue and calamity that continues to happen between opal miners, ratters, and animals of the Outback area of Lightning Ridge, Australia.

I find Australia an exciting and interesting country. The people there are warm and friendly and ready to help a stranger enjoy their home ‘among the gum trees.’

Richard W. Holmes

Chapter 1

The Ridge

1879 Lightning broke massively across the sky in the outback bush of Australia 800 kilometers north and west of Sydney.

Suddenly, with a great flash of lightning 600 merino sheep, a kelpie dog and a 16-year old boy with a shepherd’s staff lay dead. The darkness of the night was broken only by lightning reflecting shadows of their lifeless bodies. All lay silently in the fierce dark of night with sounds of thunder and rain pouring down on their bodies.

1887 A dirty faced, barefoot 12-year old boy in tattered clothing brought a stone into the kitchen of his family’s two-room house. The run-down tin roof shack had torn canvas over the windows to keep out the flies in summer and the cold in winter. As the boy skipped through the back door of the kitchen, the screen door slammed shut. At the same time, a rooster crowed outside on a fence enclosure holding bleating sheep. His father was sitting at the kitchen table eating a meat pie and drinking his morning tea.

Dad, look at this crystal rock I found! Gee son, where did you get that?

On the side of the hill near that old wild orange tree that got hit by lightning last year.

Son, it sure is pretty. We’ll have to take it into Lightning Ridge and see if anyone knows what it is. Let me finish my tea. Then I’ll put the sheep in the paddock and we can go into town. The leathery face of the boy’s father showed years of hard labor. While he was only 45 years old, his appearance gave the impression he was much older. His clothes were rumpled and dirty. The father’s worn out Akubra, the wide-brimmed felt hat worn by most men in the outback bush of Australia, lay on the kitchen table.

The multi colored stone the boy found was a high quality black opal. He found it near the place now called Lightning Ridge named after the great storm in 1879 where so many sheep had died.

This is the first public recording of gem quality black opal in the Lightning Ridge area. Not much was known of black opal. Since there was no established market at that time, it had little value.

Current Day In a developed opal-mining field in the Lightning Ridge area, Rusty sat on an empty diesel fuel can in the morning sun picking at a brown clay and sandstone rock with his old pocketknife, a hint of blue and black on one side. It was ten in the morning. A lone merino sheep walked through the clearing 20 feet from him. A dozen apostle birds were resting on the ground and hanging in the nearby pine trees. Though wild and making loud squawks, they were looking for some kind of handout from Rusty who was oblivious to their overtures. A flock of vocal galahs swooped overhead, while a shrill cry of a magpie came from a large boxwood tree on the mining claim to the north. He knew there was more good opal on the claim. That morning he came up 70 feet out of the hole. The opal dirt was breaking on two levels, but the layers were thin and the opal shattered. Money had run out for fuel and supplies. He sat there in the warm sun thinking how he was going to continue digging that day. He was sure he was only inches away from a big pocket of gem opal that he could use to settle his outstanding debts and buy a new ute.

Although his skin was dark and leathery from the Australian sun, Rusty was a ruggedly good-looking 40-year old. He wore an old Akubra hat, and gave the look of a typical bush Australian in a harsh dry land. His denim shirtsleeves, dirty from red clay mining dirt, were rolled to the elbows. His old blue jeans were torn in a couple of places from the abrasive mine work. Gaiters, short leg covers, to keep the dirt out, covered his boots. He had thrown his old white plastic mine hat on the ground next to the diesel fuel can he was sitting on.

He came out of Sydney where he’d been in construction most of his life and had searched for opal in the Lightning Ridge area for nearly five years. Before he came to this area, he had heard of the big hits local miners had made finding opal. Black opal was unique to this area. Major finds of black opal only occurred within 166 kilometers of Lightning Ridge. He now felt he was close to a major opal find on his current claim. Ratters had ravaged his claim while he was on a trip to Sydney to see his children. Rusty was forced to move over to another claim. Prior to this, he had spent nearly a year and a half developing a claim with a partner named Nobby, only to have that claim taken from him in a dispute over claim rights.

Ratting can come in many forms. A miner rats on a friend. A neighbor rats on his neighbor’s claim by mining into it. People come in secret by day or by night and gouge out opal ratting a friend’s claim. A miner rats on his partner. Maybe a miner finds opal and never lets his investment partner know, or just shorts him with junk opal and none of the good stuff. A miner can be out of money and have to sell his good opal to someone who says it is cracked and worth nothing. There is no end of ways people dream up ratting for valuable opal when it comes into their possession.

Half a kilometer to the west, Nobby, Rusty’s old partner and his two sons worked on the man-lift. Some of their electric lines had twisted, causing a short circuit they were trying to repair. Nobby had a devious background and few people would even talk to him. He had bad relations with most of the locals because nobody he had dealt with ever got a fair shake. Nobby could not be true to his word and always tried to better himself, no matter what the deal. Several facial scars on both cheeks and a missing left eye covered by a black patch displayed the results of many past fights. Unfortunately, he taught his children well. They were of a similar devious disposition. Nobby and his two sons were as rough and dirty, both physically and in the way their thought process worked, as the mine below them.

The Australian bush was harsh, with little water and few people to be found for miles around. Rusty’s friend, Tom, a seedy looking individual in his sixties, had been burned out the night before, Rusty thought, by someone he had sold cracked opal to in Lightning Ridge. Rusty knew Tom wouldn’t normally try to sell cracked opal, but when times get tough and the money gets short, men do strange things. When selling black opal, consistent quality and color are paramount.

Rusty looked at his watch and saw it was time to get going. He had sat there in the morning sun long enough. He got up from his seat, picked up his mining hat, and walked to the dirt truck. Rusty had the dump truck filled the day before in order to get an early start to the puddling dam. The drive was long taking up most of the morning. The puddling dam he had under lease from the Walgett Shire was located at Six Mile. These water rights were scarce in the area. Once you had a puddling location, you did not let it go to someone else.

The puddling dams, as they are known, consist of a 20 to 30 foot high bench or platform in the center with a rainwater pond on one side and a dry pond on the other side of the bench. On that bench, each miner had an old converted cement mixer where he brought his opal dirt to be washed. A gas powered pump lifted water from the rainwater pond to the cement mixer. The dirt from the truck was transferred from the truck by a conveyor that ran off of a diesel engine connected to the cement mixer. The mixture of dirt and water in the old cement mixer ran for three hours in order to complete the cycle of turning dirt to mud. The liquid brown mud was released into the dry pond on the opposite side of the bench from the rainwater pond. What was left was a small pile of rocks that had to be taken back to the miner’s camp for inspection to see if it contained any precious opal. This process is known as puddling. The cement mixers are called agitators by the bush miners.

Rusty had to be careful to make his way to the dam site, as he had to travel back roads. The old truck was not licensed with the government of New South Wales, and the fines would be steep if he was caught on the road with an unlicensed vehicle. Also, the old truck was in bad condition, and it took a fair amount of ether to start the diesel engine. Worn tires added to the excitement of the trip.

Rusty took a detour to the Hilton at Glengarry to see Kate, a fellow mate, opal miner, and cattle rancher. He needed to get her drift on what he might do to continue mining.

Australians use the word mate for someone they are familiar with. It is generally someone with whom you have a close acquaintance. A Sheila is a general term for a woman. Women will refer to both men and women as love which is not of a personal nature, but merely as recognition of someone’s presence.

As Rusty pulled into the Hilton pub there were other utes in the parking lot.

A ute is any small utility vehicle.

Upon entering the pub, he noticed several ragged-looking miners either sitting or standing at the bar. Kate was sitting by herself at the end of the bar having a beer. He could tell she had not been out working that day as her dark blue shirt and light blue jeans were clean and orderly. She sat there wearing an Akubra and smoking a cigarette.

Hi Kate. Rusty said. He motioned to the bartender, Hey Red, I’ll have a middy of Tooheys.

Kate looked up from her drink with a surly expression to ask, What the heck are you doing here? I thought you were mining.

"I have a load to puddle, and it may be my last. I am out of money, fuel, and supplies.

Looks like I need a mate to continue."

Well burn me another kangaroo tale! What the heck do you expect from me? I got cattle to take care of.

Oh, I just thought you might have some ideas.

Well, strange you should ask, I did hear some crazy Yank in Lightning Ridge is looking for someone to spend some money on. Seems he thinks he can come down here from the ‘States and get involved with opal mining. What a laugh that is!

They had to keep their conversation low. The fellows at the other end of the bar, including Red the bartender, were straining to hear what they were saying.

I don’t know that I would want to get involved with that American, but his money would sure be nice. Kate, any chance you could help?

Sorry mate, I’m too busy pushing cattle right now. Maybe some other time.

In New South Wales the two favorite beers are Tooheys and VB (Victorian Bitter). These are served as a middy (a 10- ounce glass) or a schooner (a 15-ounce glass).

Rusty finished his drink and left the pub as the on-lookers puzzled over what Kate and he had been discussing. In the bush everyone wants to know the other guy’s business. Rusty jumped into his dirt truck, fired up the diesel, and took one of the back bush roads towards the dam. He had to drive slowly over the ruts in the red dirt road.

Even at a slow speed, he was kicking up a fair amount of dust. Suddenly two kangaroos shot out of the bush, the first one missed the truck, the second one hit the front a glancing blow, but wandered away unharmed. He liked the ‘roos and was glad he did not hurt them.

Rusty reached the dam site by noon and sat down on an old plastic milk crate by the puddler to have a meat pie and a drink he packed that morning. He wanted to have a little internal energy before he started up the agitator. He sat thinking how he planned to continue work that day and looked off to the West. The bird life is abundant in the outback. Wherever he went, he would see flocks of galahs and other birds in the area.

Unwatched by Rusty, a seven-foot king brown snake, a mulga, crawled towards him from around the back tire of the agitator.

This is an ugly snake with a terrible disposition.

Australians fear the king brown, or mulga more than any other snake. Unlike most poisonous snakes that strike and release, the mulga hangs on and continues to pump poison into its victim. It is said that in a contest between a big brown mulga and a cobra of the same size, the cobra doesn’t stand a chance. Even though it is known that the cobra’s venom is more toxic, the mulga will hang on and chew the other snake to death as it continues to pump venom into the cobra.

The big snake hypnotically had his eyes on Rusty who did not see him heading his way. The mulga had his head raised a foot high up off the ground poised and ready to strike at him. Rusty saw him out of the corner of his eye. When the snake was within six feet, Rusty got up and moved a pail on the ground beside the milk crate between the snake and him. Rusty backed away as quietly and as quickly as he could without getting the snake excited. The snake lowered his head and slipped off in the water collection pond. Rusty, like many Australians, has a great appreciation for the wilderness and what is in it, and did not express a desire to kill the snake, but got out of its way and let it go. Rusty understood it was the snake’s territory which he had invaded.

The dam was under the control of the Shire since all water in the area was very scarce. The Shire is not unlike a county within a state of the United States. Before Rusty started work, he always looked in on Hilda, caretaker for the Shire, for all of the puddling at Six Mile. Rusty sat down at her outdoor table under the awning of her permanent old mobile home trailer, called a caravan in the bush. Hilda poured him a cup of tea. Hilda said the night before she had to keep her caravan doors and windows shut, as the brown snakes were on the move. She could hear a couple of them crawling overhead at midnight. This area was a favorite home for the brown snake, since there was so much water and green brush around for them to live in. Hilda’s hair was partial-gray and wild- looking even though she tried to keep up her appearance. Hilda was a large, middle-aged woman who got the caretaker job after her husband died four years earlier. He was also an opal miner in that area. When her husband died, Hilda, being the tough woman she was with nowhere else to go, was never challenged for this job. Her husband had held the position for a long time and the local miners liked Hilda. Rusty told Hilda of his encounter with the mulga, thanked her, and went on his way.

Rusty backed the old dirt dump truck to the conveyor to load the dirt into the agitator. Rusty went down to the collecting pond to start the gas generator, which pumped water into the agitator for processing. He was very cautious to make sure the mulga had continued on its way. The agitator was old, making a lot of noise and needed adjustment from time to time to keep going. After three hours, Rusty dumped his load, collected the rocks, and threw the sandstone rocks into the dry mud pond.

Sandstone rocks do not contain opal nor do they turn to mud in the agitator.

He put the remaining rocks in four buckets. Rusty threw the buckets of rock on the back of the truck and headed back to the mine. At the mine site, he transferred the four buckets into his road ute, started it up and headed for Lightning Ridge. He was in search of the American that Kate mentioned.

Later in the week Rusty would cut open the rocks with his water cooled diamond saw. Until he opened up the rocks, he couldn’t tell if he had any gem-quality opal. Many miners do their own lapidary work in finishing stones. In this regard the first process in examining a stone that might contain opal of gem quality is to saw or grind off a thin edge of the stone for a peek inside. Opal is directional and might be beautiful at one angle but not at another. Therefore, great care is taken in examining stones. The preferred equipment that the miner uses are water-cooled saws and water-cooled grinding wheels that have diamond impregnated in their cutting surface. A miner might grind off a small section on all sides of a stone before he decides how he will finish the stone for sale.

It was 5:45 in the afternoon when Rusty pulled up in front of the Lightning Ridge pub. Opal Charlie was just heading into the pub and hailed Rusty.

Hi Rusty. How are things?

Fine Charlie. Have you seen an American looking for an opal project?

No, but maybe someone in the pub might know him.

Charlie was a wiry looking character five-foot, six-inches high and weighed no more than a hundred pounds. He was at least seventy years old, wore old clothes and a beat-up Akubra. His dark wrinkled face had a big smile but no teeth.

Two old opal miners were sitting at the bar. Snow, named for the big white beard on his face, looked portly with clean clothes. The other mate was called Blue, because he was always finding blue opal but had yet to find any of the really top opal with all the colors of the rainbow. Blue was another seedy looking miner. His clothes were old and wrinkled. By the look on his face, Rusty could tell he had his fill of beer that day.

Very seldom were last names used in the opal fields. Most opal miners had past histories which would curl your hair were they told.

Hi Rusty! yelled out Snow, Get any of the big ones yet? Rusty tried to avoid his line of sight and just shook his head, indicating he wasn’t on opal. He didn’t want to let anyone know even if he was finding opal.

Blue came up to Rusty and said, Say did you hear what happened at Peter’s claim last night? It seems that Peter was out for a couple of days so he put a 6-foot long goanna down into his mine to watch things while he had gone to Walgett.

Goannas are large monitor lizards with big claws. They live in the dry outback of Australia.

Peter made his money by working 30 hours a week at the local gas station and running errands for other miners. In his free time, he dug at his opal mine that he had worked for years.

Peter got back to his mine this morning and he says there’s blood all over the ladders and it’s not the goanna’s. Someone tried to get down in his mine while he was gone and met the goanna on the ladders, on its way out. He never got to the bottom from what Peter said, as there was blood all over the first 20-foot level. It looked like a pretty big fight, but I think the goanna won. Anyway, the ratter never made it to the bottom.

Rusty told Blue that was interesting, but had he seen an American around asking questions about opal mining.

Blue said, Yea, the fellow is across the street at the newsstand getting a newspaper. If you go over there, you might catch him.

Rusty left the pub and crossed the street to the newsstand. There was a good-looking fellow with a new Akubra coming out of the newsstand with a bunch of papers under his arm.

Rusty stopped the man and said, "Excuse me, but are you looking for an opal mining project?’

Jack Cline, the American dressed in a new pair of blue jeans and a red shirt said, Yes I am. Who are you and how did you find out I was interested in opal mining?

Mate, this is a small community and word gets around pretty fast. It’s hard to keep a lot of things quiet, especially when someone dressed like you spreads the word he has money to spend on opal. Why not just go over to the Black Opal Motel and hangout a sign and buy some opal?

No, I came down here from the ‘States and I’ve always had an interest in mining. I want to invest in a good opal mine project.

Mate, there’s a lot of folks down here who will be glad to take your money!

I realize that, but I would still like to try my luck on finding some opal on my own. I can’t be here all the time, but I would like to find a partner who needs some funding and would like to share in the profits of mining.

Jack, you have met the right guy! It just so happens I’ve used up all of my cash and am looking for a partner or partners to continue. I think my current claim has some great potential.

Have you got someone who can vouch for you and what you have done in the past?

Yes, the best person I could refer you to is Kate. She runs her own cattle operation, has had her own opal operation in the past, and is well respected. However, she is pretty tough. I’ll have to introduce you to her. She doesn’t have much to do with strangers.

Why don’t we go grab some food at the Bowling Club down the street? I hear they have some great meals down there. You can tell me all about your mine and where you are currently on finding opal.

I really can’t afford the Club right now. That’s okay, I’ll buy.

The Bowling Club is the largest and finest place to eat in town. The club also has gambling machines. The gambling keeps the price of meals down and allows for other social activities.

Jack Cline traveled a lot. He liked Australia, and he liked opals. He cut and polished opals as a hobby in California. Much of his time back home was spent helping others start new companies. Therefore, the idea of starting a project of opal mining did not seem foreign to him. He was in Australia as a tourist, but thought if he could find the right partner he would like to invest in an opal mining property as a source of material for his hobby. Many of his friends tried to discourage him from such an adventure, but once he got interested in opal, it became an obsession.

Rusty and Jack talked for two hours covering the status of Rusty’s claim, mine conditions and what Rusty thought was the chance of him finding opal.

Jack said, I’m staying at the Lightning Ridge Motel just down the street. I’d like to meet Kate and take a look at the mine. I have some other things to do this evening. Let’s meet tomorrow morning.

That evening as Rusty returned to his caravan, the western sky blazed with a pink glow. Black clouds and a misty rain set in. As Rusty placed his foot on the first step to his caravan, he noticed a one-inch round hole. It must be a funnel web spider, the deadliest in Australia. Rusty thought, If it doesn’t bother me, I won’t bother him. He continued on into his caravan.

Rusty came out of his caravan the next morning at 6 o’clock. As he was getting into his ute, he noticed the rubber surrounding his front window had been removed. The rubber strip was hanging partially on the hood, and two feet of it was dragging on the ground. He wondered who was angry with him. Who would do such a strange trick? It took Rusty the better part of an hour to take his screw driver and replace the rubber seal around the window. He went on with his work and thought no more of the experience.

The next morning, he again got up at 6 o’clock, came out to his ute and found the same rubber seal removed from his window. Now Rusty was upset and wondered who was after him. He heard nothing unusual the previous two nights.

That night he got back to his caravan around midnight and found nothing disturbed. He decided to get up early to see if anyone was outside. It was 4:45 in the morning when the sun started to break from the northeast. He peered out a small window in his caravan at his ute. There sitting on the hood of the truck was a red, white and gray galah pulling the rubber from the window. Now, he knew who the villain was. He opened the door and threw a wet sponge at the bird that immediately flew away. It seems from time to time the rose breasted galah develop a certain fetish. Thinking that the rubber lining around the windshield was some kind of worm, the galah was determined to have it removed.

Rusty got in touch with Jack Cline. He told Jack that he and Kate would meet him at his motel at 8 o’clock on Friday morning.

Jack said, let’s make it at the Blue Light Café for coffee at 8:15 on Friday morning.

Rusty got in touch with Kate and explained to her why he needed her to speak to Jack Cline. Kate was ruffled at having to make such a meeting with this American. Since Rusty and Kate were friends, she agreed to the meeting.

Rusty and Kate’s relationship went back a long way. He had helped Kate on many tough mining deals. He got her out of three scrapes with buyers in Lightning Ridge over cracked opal she had sold them. He had helped her set up a couple of mining sites in the past. Kate was not a woman one could easily get to know. She was rough and spoke few kind words to or about anyone. She had few friends. Her appearance didn’t help. She had a rough leathery face from her years in the bush. She was slender and her walk was stiff. If one didn’t know her, and approached from behind they might take her for a frail male miner. Kate was a woman who had a lot of experience in running her own opal operation. She had her own ranch with a lot of sheep and cattle. The open range of her ranch covered several thousand acres. The land was owned by New South Wales. Kate leased the land from the government with a renewable five-year lease. Kate was 60 years old, and five foot eight inches tall. She was always seen wearing an old rolled up hat that looked as if it had been in a lot of scrapes. The lines in her face gave away her age and showed years of hardship. In no manner was her attitude frail. Her tongue could cut down anyone she didn’t like.