Authors: Alicia Hope
T
he bus finally came to the
last
locked gate before the mine’s entrance.
The driver
operated the remote d
evice that
unlocked the gate and
swung
it
open, and the bus
trundle
d
through
. From there they travelled a rough
track,
scarred with ruts
from
heavy vehicles and equipment,
to the mine’s office building.
The manager was
standing outside the
entrance,
waiting to
greet them
.
The
bus
pulled
in
beside him
,
and
when the door opened he
stuck hi
s head inside, saying,
‘Morning all, I hope you had a good trip. You certainly had lovely w
eather for it.’
Verity looked into the welcoming face of Alan Stewart, RCL’s bauxite
mine manager
and her
close colleague
of many years. H
e courteously took her hand and
assisted her down from the bus, while the visitors
filed
out
behind her.
‘Thank you
,
Alan, and yes
,
it was
an enjoyable trip on this fine spring day. A most interesting journey thanks to Ben, our capable host and commentator.’ Verity turned and gestured towards the young environmental officer
,
who
grin
ned proudly
.
Following a short
tour of the
mine
,
and
morning tea of
homemade
scones wi
th local jam and cream,
and
pots of freshly brewed tea and percolated coffee
, the visitors settled into the meeting room
for a presentation
by Alan and his staff
.
From the
smooth, professional
delivery,
it was obviou
s they’d gone to a lot of trouble with their preparation
. They
present
ed
the information in plain English
,
but
without appearing condescending to those in the know
.
From the
VIPs’ satisfied expressions
,
Verity
could sense the morning’s
PR exercise had been a success.
The presentation over, s
he drew
Alan
and Ben
to one side. ‘
I want to
thank you
both
. Alan, you
and your team have done a
great job, and so have you
, Ben.
It
’s
important
RCL
’s recognised
for being a responsible corporate citizen
, particularly regarding the environment.
And I think you
’ve
helped achieve
what we set out to do
today
.’
The two men beamed at her.
Later,
Verity stood watching the visitors
once again
board the bus
for the return trip
to Perth. She smiled as the delegates shook her hand and expressed
their
appreciation.
One
Japanese
gentleman
bowed low before her
,
and
gushed
about
it
being
a ‘
mos
t
interlesting
day’
.
As the last guest boarded the b
us, Verity
felt a
light touch on her elbow. It was Ben.
‘You’re travelling
to the refinery by chopper
with me, aren’t you
,
Miss Parker?
’
‘Yes,
Ben.
’
Her keen eyes noticed his
unusually serious
expression
. ‘
Why, is there a problem?’
‘No, not really
...
well, I suppose you could say so.’
Verity waite
d patiently for h
im to elaborate
.
‘It’s just that there might be
a roo
caught in one of the BRDAs ... um ...
I mean the bauxite residue disposal areas
,
w
hat we call the red mud lakes.
W
here the sticky red m
ud from the refining process is—
’
‘
I know what the
BRDAs
are for
,
Ben, and where they are.’
‘Oh yeah, of course you do.
’ He grinned sheepishly.
‘
Sorry, still in tour guide mode I guess.’
Verity nodded
. She
wasn’t upset
with
him,
but she
did resent the all-too-common assumption
that
, being a woman
,
she’d need
process
technicalities
explained
to her
. She
sighed inwardly and
prompted, ‘Go on.’
‘Well, like I said,
they’ve radioed me that
a roo
’s been
spotted
too close for comfort to
one of the
red mud lakes.
I was hoping
, if you
’re not
in a huge rush
, we could take a slight detour to fly over it?
Then I can check
if the roo’s actually in
the lake
.
If it i
s,
w
e
’ll need to mount
a rescue
, or—
’
Verity didn’t hesitate.
‘Of course
,
Ben
, give the pilot the details.’
Ben smil
ed his thanks and strode
over to where
t
he Bell 222 helicopt
er, painted in RCL’s colours, waited
quietly
on the
helipad
.
Verity
also
made her way to the chopper
, accompanied by Alan Stewart.
‘Thanks
again,
Alan. I appreciate all your efforts tod
ay, and those of your team. It
was an important exercise to get right
,
and you
nailed it
.’
Verity smiled
at the wide grin spreading across
Alan’s face.
‘
You’re more than welcome
,
Verity ... er ...
Miss Parker.’
‘Oh
,
Alan, please
don’t stand on ceremony. I’m the same Verity you’ve worked with for ye
ars, and I’m certainly not about
to
call
you
“
Mr Stewart
”
after all this time
!
’
‘Of course
,’ he
chuckled
.
‘
I just thought, now you’re CEO and all
.
…
’ H
e stood a little straighter.
‘H
ope
we’ll
see you down this way more often. It’s been a real pleasure
having you here today
.’
‘For me as well.’
Verity smiled and turned to climb into the cabin.
Once strapped in, she n
odded at
the pilot to start the engine.
Alan raised his hand once more before b
acking away as the
rotors
whirred
into life
,
and the he
lico
pter prepared for take-off.
As they
rose into the air
, Verity found herself hoping she had made some more allies that day.
Th
eir numbers were increasing,
albeit
slower than she’d like
.
It was a smooth trip from the mine to the mud lakes
,
with very little wind and clear views of the passing countryside below. As they fle
w over the
section of conveyor closest to the
property
that was
the subject of the
land grab
, Verity
smiled grimly and shook
her head at what she saw
below the speeding chopper
.
Some
specially made covers
,
fitted
as part of the company’s noise abatement
trials
,
were missing
from that section of the belt
, no doubt stolen
.
And s
he had her suspicions about who might have done it
.
She
pressed
her lips
together
and frowned
. It would be ironic if
the very people
with the most to gain from
noise
reductions,
were guilty of stealing the covers
. But if the company successfully implemented noise
abatement
methods, any hopes the neighbouring pro
perty owners had of receiving
big
compensation
payout
s
, would be dashed.
We have to buy that
parcel
of
land,
she reiterated to herself,
otherwise it’
l
l be
a
costly
thorn
in RCL’s side forever.
As they approached the mud lakes, Ben took a pair of binoculars from his bag and scanned
the area, looking for any sign of a
kangaroo.
‘There,’ he pointed, shouting to the pilot, ‘O
ver there, to the right
!’
The pilot adjusted his course and they flew towards the l
argest of the refinery’s
residue disposal areas.
Verity leaned forward, str
aining to catch a glimpse
, but they
were still too far away
to
see the animal
with the naked eye.
Ben put down the binoculars and
turned to speak to her.
‘It doesn’t look good from here, the roo
’s in the lake alright
.’
Verity nodded her
understanding
, her brow creased with concern.
She knew the residue areas were necessary, but wished there was some way to protect native animals from their dangers.
‘It’s the same old story
,’ Ben explained resignedly, ‘the roo
has
come to drink
from
the
pools of
rainwater on the lake’s surface
,
and been
caught in the grasping su
ction of the mud beneath it
. If we can’t get ‘im out, he
’s
doomed to
a
slow death
from hunger
,
or
from
the effects of t
he caustic mud eating into his skin
.
’
Verity
winced
, but reminded herself that the company’s
diligent monitoring
of the lakes
had resulted in
many
animals and birds
being
rescued, cleaned and treated
, and
released again.
Ben
went on
, ‘For a rescue to be successful, time’s of the essence. The longer
t
he
roo
stays in there, the lower his chances of survival.’