Guy Barnett (Tasmania, Liberal Party) Share this | Hansard source

by leave—I drafted the following motion to record the sentiments of the Senate regarding the extraordinary survival of Beaconsfield miners Todd Russell and Brant Webb and their rescue by a community wholly dedicated to their survival. The motion also records our deep sympathy to the family of Larry Knight, who lost his life in the Anzac Day rock fall. The motion is cosponsored by Labor Senator Helen Polley and, following a request late yesterday, we agreed for Senator Bob Brown to also be a sponsor. I, and also on behalf of Senator Polley and Senator Brown, move:

That the Senate—

(a)

acknowledges the amazing courage and tenacity of Mr Todd Russell and Mr Brant Webb since the underground accident at the Beaconsfield Gold Mine on Anzac Day, 25 April 2006;

(b)

applauds the actions and resilience of the rescue team during the 14 day ordeal when these men were entombed 925 metres underground, and specifically acknowledges the work of the emergency services, mine management, the Mayor Barry Easther and his council, the Australian Workers Union, Tasmanian Minerals Council Limited, the Beaconsfield churches, and numerous community groups and volunteers, and the spirit of the Beaconsfield community in conducting and assisting the delicate exercise resulting in their successful rescue;

(c)

notes that the elation felt from this rescue feat is tempered by the death of Mr Larry Knight in the same accident, and pays tribute to his wife Jackie and family for deferring the funeral to afford priority for the rescue mission, and extends sincere condolences to Jackie and her family; and

(d)

records that Australia, and the world, will long remember this tragic accident and amazing, successful rescue with admiration.

I am honoured to speak of the surge of the great Aussie spirit at Beaconsfield during not only last Tuesday’s successful rescue but the entire drama since Anzac Day—a tumultuous 14 days. This time has been an emotional roller-coaster like no other.

Tuesday, 9 May 2006 was a day of mixed emotions. It was a day when many Australians cried tears of joy for the rescued miners and tears of sorrow for the Knight family. It was a day when the nation and, indeed, the world honoured Larry Knight and his two surviving companions, Todd Russell and Brant Webb, and the courage and graciousness of Larry’s wife, Jackie, and family, who deferred his funeral to afford priority to the rescue of his mates.

I was at Beaconsfield many times in the past 14 days and was at the site at around 5 am on Tuesday. I felt privileged to witness the true Aussie spirit among the community and rescue teams. We have all watched in awe as the town has rallied round the families of its fallen and those who survived. Tuesday morning was cold and breezy with some drizzle. Some people were in pyjamas and all of us were waiting in hope and expectancy. As Todd and Brant ripped their ID tags from the below-ground-tag board in triumph when they finally emerged from the mine shaft and their tomb below and then embraced their wives in tender bear hugs, a nation wept for joy. Was it humanly possible to watch this reunion with dry eyes? I think not.

This is why the day was a wonderful and joyful reminder of the innate spirit and mateship which made Gallipoli, on that first Anzac Day, in 1915, the Australian legend we cherish to this day. Who could believe that these men had been trapped almost a kilometre below the earth’s surface for 318 hours, in a 1.5- by 1.5- by 1.2-metre small cage with a large rock slab on top, in absolute darkness? They were cramped together in that tight space and, incredibly, for the first five days did not know if they were ever to be found or if the rock fall entombing them would tremor and strike again.

The disaster happened on Anzac Day when an earthquake measuring 2.2 on the Richter scale triggered a major rock fall 925 metres underground at the Beaconsfield mine, about 40 minutes by car north of Launceston, on the western side of the Tamar River. Reports said 19 miners escaped, but three failed to surface. On day 3, the community was devastated at the discovery of the body of Larry Knight, found by a remote-controlled vehicle. I must admit that, as an observer, like many others I held grave fears for Todd and Brant, but like others I hoped and prayed for a miracle of God. On Sunday, 30 April, with hopes fading and two days after we paused to remember the tragedy of Port Arthur 10 years earlier, the families of Todd Russell and Brant Webb, along with the rest of the Beaconsfield community and indeed the world, were both stunned and elated at news the pair had been located alive and apparently unharmed. This was a miracle unfolding.

Our spirits were uplifted and there was celebration in the streets of Beaconsfield, but locating and freeing the men were vastly different. Our excitement subsided and, for some, fear set in. Work finally began on the one-metre wide rescue tunnel to the two men. Even after 10 days, getting their footy tips in and joking with the rescuers, Todd and Brant implored their rescue team to take their time and do it safely. The rescuers cleverly drilled a small hole to deliver food and water. According to the Launceston Examiner newspaper, this was also the day the pair had their first hot meal since their ordeal began—chicken soup. The community believed the rescuers were getting closer to Todd and Brant and by late Saturday night or early Sunday morning they would be reached. I was there at the miners park with a host of locals waiting, hoping. But no. The rescuers encountered some of the hardest rock in the world. How much longer would it be? Our hearts were pounding. Some locals said to me, ‘I’m waiting here all night till they are out.’

At Sunday lunchtime on day 12, like a terrible and tragic omen, the nation lost one of its best-known journalists at the mine site, when Richard Carleton collapsed and died of a heart attack. I was there listening to his probing question to mine manager Matthew Gill not 10 metres away. Within a few moments, just a few metres away, Richard Carleton collapsed and died. Two days later, on Tuesday, 9 May, at 5.59 am, Todd Russell and Brant Webb emerged from the surface mine shaft to be greeted by their families, after an ordeal lasting two weeks. They broke the world record for the longest period entrapped underground in a mine disaster and they broke the mould in terms of human endurance. They proudly walked out of that mine, that tomb, into history.

I think those television images of Todd and Brant ripping their ID tags off the board at the mine’s surface entrance made us all realise the extent and complexity of what we had witnessed during 14 days of an emotional roller-coaster. It was then that we realised how fragile the success of the rescue was and how the trapped miners were never safe, from the time they were discovered alive until after they emerged from that shaft and were on the surface. That is why I want to record our passionate thanks to and admiration of so many people who played a part in this miracle.

I will not name all those who took part, but I will make a few exceptions. My personal tributes go to the West Tamar mayor, Barry Easther, whose leadership qualities shone bravely during the 14 days. He demonstrated leadership of his community, with a big heart, always hoping and praying, and he had the full support of his council. I acknowledge his deputy mayor, Max Burr, who is in the chamber today, for the support that he also gave. We thank the mine staff of the rescue command centre; workers and volunteers supporting the recovery centre; the various arms of the emergency services; mine management, ably led by manager Matthew Gill; the Australian Workers Union, led by Bill Shorten; the Tasmanian Minerals Council, led by Terry Long; local councillors; volunteers; and the many businesses which provided free amenities and produce, including for the throng of media. It seemed like there were hundreds of media people there, local, national and international.

I want to highlight the role of the local churches. They became like a lightning rod, a honey pot, for the local community. They were places for people to gather, talk, listen, be counselled and pray. On many of my visits, early in the day and late at night, I stopped at the Uniting Church in the centre of town. It was always open. The minister, Frances Seen, was like a beacon for many. She demonstrated the love, compassion and care that were needed during this trial. On one of my visits to the recovery centre, I noted Frances Seen providing the centre with a huge pot of soup. The town was full of people like this—caring, supporting and loving in different ways. A book could be written about the untold acts of service and kindness, and maybe it should be. Reverend Chris Thiele of the Anglican Church helped organise the funeral of Larry Knight and was support for Jackie and the Knight family. Thank you, Chris.

I pay a special tribute to the rescue crews, who risked their lives at the scene amidst an unstable rock fall environment and worked incredibly long and arduous hours to get their mates out. We saw them daily—the big, burly unsung heroes, the gentle giants seen on television and silhouetted against floodlights. Each day we shared in their desperation, frustration and doggedness.

Beaconsfield on Anzac Day, 25 April 2006, was an obscure township of 1,500 on a small island off the coast of mainland Australia, and it emerged two weeks later as a household name across the world. I thank the state government and all their personnel involved for their support throughout. I commend the Prime Minister’s decision to hold a bipartisan reception at Parliament House to honour Todd and Brant and those involved in the rescue and commend his pledge to assist where possible in the future of Beaconsfield. Let no-one be in any doubt that, despite the gritty and heroic way this small community has behaved in the past two weeks, it has taken a huge knock economically, with the future of the goldmine now uncertain. The Beaconsfield goldmine has been the lifeblood of the town. The state government has a responsibility to ensure a proper inquiry into the accident and mine safety. The mine’s safety must be addressed and, if proven safe, the mine should be reopened as soon as possible.

Interestingly, and finally, it was the Beaconsfield branch of the RSL for which I was able to obtain a lone pine as a gift this past Anzac Day. Mayor Barry Easther made the address that day and presented the pine on my behalf. I hope and pray the same Anzac spirit of courage, mateship and sacrifice can endure in all of us when we remember the Beaconsfield mine tragedy and what has been dubbed ‘the great escape’.