Leard State Forest’s Last Stand: Part 2
Leard Revisited
Driving up the Kamilaroi highway on the Liverpool plains of New South Wales, perched on the far side of the Great Divide, the sheer scale of the landscape is breathtaking. As we coast along, occasionally pulling over to let enormous road-blocking mining trucks be carried past, the scorching southern sun arcs over a serene vista.
Vast and varied fields stretch to the hills on either horizon, taking advantage of the deep rich soils that have weathered down from the ranges over aeons. Sulphur crested cockatoos wheel and screech overhead, and one can imagine the teeming verdancy of the forests that once flourished here before the farms, plunging deep taproots into the nourishing alluvial aquifers far beneath the surface. As is the case across much of the state, agriculture has left a long legacy of environmental degradation that is only now beginning to be addressed by a new generation of farmers as custodians of the land. Of particular importance is the sanctity of the aquifers. Ever present streams of water flow deep beneath the soil like the veins of the land, providing water for thirsty livestock and crops even in the harshest of droughts.
Even as old issues are starting to be addressed, a new threat is looming. Open cut coal mining has historically been prevalent in the Hunter Valley around Newcastle, but is now beginning to jump the Great Divide and move West into the Gunnedah basin and Liverpool Plains in search of new prospects. Combined with a new wave of coal seam gas exploration, the combined threat to water resources has never been greater. Where coal seam gas drilling and hydraulic fracturing has the potential to pollute the water table, open cut mining will destroy it. We saw a waterfall in the forest, but it was no cause for celebration. A stream of water arced from the alluvial soil beds in the mine wall and plunged into a lake of acrid water in the bottom of the pit.
Leard State forest is the largest surviving remnant woodland in the Liverpool plains, providing a home for numerous animals including Eastern Grey Kangaroos and the iconic Koala. It also supports a huge variety of birdlife and includes the largest remaining area of endangered whitebox gum in the world. At 7500 hectares it is an invaluable and significant green refuge, providing a tenuous link for wildlife between the Great Dividing Range in the East, Mount Kaputar national park to the North, and the Pilliga forest to the west.
Much of this will be destroyed by the coal industry if they have their way. 4000 hectares of the forest will ultimately be clearfelled, more then half of it’s total area. Idemitsu’s Boggabri mine has already begun this process on the Eastern side of the forest to feed the domestic Japanese power market, while Whitehaven’s Maules Creek mine will provide the coup de gras on the Western side, exporting their coal to the highest bidder from the largest coal port in the world at Newcastle. These two mines will leave but a thin strip of forest between them as a ‘wildlife corridor’, while their consultants promise that the ecology of the area will ultimately be improved by the projects after they’ve rehabilitated and restored nearby bushland.
This rehabiliation is ultimately thirty years away, and there is little mention of the final voids that will be left by the mines. These will fill with ground and rainwater and last for thousands of years, all while mixing with volatile chemicals from the disturbed soils and coal seams. Often water associated with coal seams becomes highly acidic, leading to acid mine drainage and uninhabitable water bodies.
The rehabilition we witnessed comprised around four species, whereas the Leard forest has upwards of 300 in its assemblage. It is taking place on the spoil pile left behind by the advancing mine, which is a pile of soil that has been blasted, mixed with deeper soils and coal, and finally dumped in a huge heap. Any hint of mychorrizae, soil microbes or other essential organisms for a healthy ecosystem are gone.
Not in Our Name
This devastation of the forest is not occuring without resistance. Front Line Action On Coal (FLAC) has maintained a camp in the forest for around a year and a half, hosting activists alongside farmers, journalists, ecologists, and many other people coming to see the forest for themselves.
With work expected to start on Whitehaven’s Maules creek mine any day, tension was high at camp as everyone kept an eye out for truck movements. Although the Northern Inland Council for the Environments (NICE) court case against Whitehaven was ongoing, an injunction to prevent them clearing the forest until the case was finished had failed. There is currently a callout for anyone available to gather at camp in order to bear witness to any destruction and get the word out.
