Chapter 4: Mintabie

There was an old Cessna 280 Caravan on the tarmac when Susan dropped Sam at the airfield.

“Call me if you get to Adelaide,” she said.

“Number in the book?”

“I dropped a card in your swag.”

“It’ll be a while.”

“That’s OK.” She drove off in a cloud.

Sam walked over and introduced himself to two men.

“I’m Wings, he’s Doc.”

“I think I can guess what you each do.”

“You’re headin’ for Mintabie?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll only be on the ground for a few minutes, loading a patient. Then we’re off due north to the hospital in the Alice.”

“I thought Mintabie had a clinic again.”

“It does, but it doesn’t do things tougher than a broken bone or an appendectomy.”

“We might as well get goin’, Doc.”

“Right-o. Sit in back, Sam. It’ll be well under an hour.”

Sam observed the dry waste, then the Tallaringa Nature Reserve, then darker red waste and the white of the dead lake splashed across it. There was a ribbon of the highway trending slightly west of north from Coober Pedy.

“Nearly there,” said Wings. Sam could hear him radio the airstrip. The houses became visible to his right, a few bumps and they came to a halt.

“Where you heading, Sam?”

“Store, I was told.”

“Anyone’ll help you. Ambulance’ll take you.”

Climbing down, San saw Doc already near the ambulance where two men were standing.

Mintabie is an opal mining community in the ‘APY lands’ in South Australia. It is unique in comparison to other communities situated in the APY Lands, in that its residents are largely not of Indigenous Australian origin, and significant mining activity (of gemstones) is occurring. [Wikipedia]

A gurney was taken from the ambulance, its wheels were lowered and it was pushed to the Cessna. Wings helped the men manoeuvre the gurney into the plane. The men returned to Sam. Doc waved and closed the door. In a minute the Cessna turned, taxied and took off.

“Goin’ to the store?”

“Yes.”

“Hop in. In front.” In less than five minutes they bumped to the storefront. “Here y’are.”

“Thanks.”

Sam walked in and was greeted by a middle-aged man. “You Bunjil?”

“Yes.”

“I wuz tol’ ter send you ter the Hotel. Downa road, palm trees in front.”

“Thank you.”

The Mintabie Hotel (and pub and campground and laundromat) proved to be a low, sand-colored block. When he went to the desk to register a cheery woman said: “Oh, Mr. Hollister! Inspector Timmons bin askin’ for you. He’ll be back by one fer lunch.”

Sam thanked her, went to his room, and then to the pub, the Goanna Grill, which was populated by a bartender and several old opal miners, one of whom was feeding a pokie.

“Does he ever win?” Sam asked.

“‘Bout once a week. I think he only loses a bit in the long run, not much. But he don’t win a lot, neither.”

A tall, bulky man in a SAPOL [South Australia Police] shirt came in, spotted Sam and walked over. “Hollister?”

Sam nodded. “I’m Timmons. My station’s in Marla. That’s under 40 klicks from here, but it takes near an hour an’ a half on the track. So I’m not much good when there’s trouble. Do you know the history?”

“Not at all.”

“Well, let’s order lunch and I’ll tell a long, sorry tale.” They did. And Timmons began: “As in many other parts of South Australia, Aborigines were the first to find opal at Mintabie. They sold black opal at Coober Pedy during the first world war but it was years before white miners braved the harsh conditions. The first miners to work here found the sandstone too hard. So it wasn’t until 1976, when large machinery was introduced, that the potential of Mintabie was fully realized and the township was established. But

When Anangu began their struggle for land rights in 1976, very little prospecting was being conducted at Mintabie. As things turned out, the push for land rights coincided with a rush on opal exploration. Consequently, by the time the South Australian Parliament began to seriously consider granting land rights to Anangu, a growing number of opal miners were setting up operations around Mintabie. Then, in 1981, Anangu won the inalienable freehold title to the APY Lands. This victory came at the end of bitter negotiations. As part of them Anangu agreed to lease back to the Crown the small parcel of land on which the township of Mintabie sits.

The Pitjantjatjara Council wrote to the Crown about its serious concerns about “sly grog selling”: [Timmons read from a sheet] ‘The difficulties associated with Mintabie are deep-rooted ones. For a long time, the community there has been under little control from the Government, either through the Police or the Mines Department ... The main problem in the past has been sly grog selling which has continued unchecked as recently as last week. As a result of unlimited access to take-away liquor, many Pitjantjatjara and Yankunytjatjara people have been subjected to acute social dislocation. One of their men was shot-gunned to death, others killed in road accidents and many involved in lesser violence.’

Despite long periods of government inattention, over a period of nearly 40 years, Anangu have repeatedly highlighted the negative impacts that certain individuals and businesses operating out of Mintabie have on their lives. In 2002, in a written submission to a parliamentary inquiry, Iwantja Council alleged that many people at Mintabie were involved in “selling sly grog to Anangu.”

SAPOL has confirmed that Mintabie is the source for a significant amount of the drugs and alcohol coming on to the APY Lands. SAPOL has also reported that it had ‘recently found buried at Mintabie a large container set up with hydroponic gear that [had] been the source of cannabis for much of the lands for the past couple of years.’”

Timmons continued: “I know that drugs and alcohol continue to enter the APY Lands through Mintabie. In August 2007, South Australia Police arrested and charged two men at Mintabie for their alleged involvement in a ‘cannabis selling network.’ There was another arrest in 2008 and they’ve continued irregularly until a few months ago. The opal mining ended in ‘17/’18. The government declared the town closed. A lot of the Europeans pulled out. But some, like those old fossickers remained. But there’s still cannabis bein’ produced. A lawyer in Sydney told the Aboriginal Council that you might help.”

“Now I understand,” Sam said. “That lawyer was my father. I’m being involved more to help the Aborigines than SAPOL. But I’m anxious to do this. We introduced alcohol to Australia and marijuana, too. Do you have a plan?”

“Not really. First of all, I’m sure this hotel isn’t selling bulk alcohol out its back door. More likely, it goes through the store. But not illegally. After all, if a miner buys a case of gin or vodka or whiskey, that’s OK. But if they sell it on, that isn’t. And the drugs are flat illegal.”

“So, let’s focus on marijuana. How can I help there?”

“I’ve arranged for you to stay with the local Anangu leader. I think of him as chief, but he says that’s wrong. His name is Joe Marlu. He says it’s not his true name, though.”

“I understand.”

“He’s the Council’s presence in the school. And I said you’d help. They’re up to over 20 again. A while back they were down around a dozen.”

“I guess I could teach. But I’m just past Grade 12, myself.”

“Makes it more likely you’re not a nark.”

“Right. Let’s go then.”

“Baggage?”