2nd December 2016

Seems the perception of Port Douglas as a luxury destination for tourists has transferred to those of us who live there too!  Such was our greeting by the older gentleman who was a volunteer at the Zara Clarke Museum in Charters Towers.  He thought we were rather fancy … funny considering us three girls were decked out in K-Mart and the Husband in shorts and a t-shirt that are ridiculously old.

The museum was the second stop of the day as our travelling home had been left with the local mechanic to sort out a fuel tank issue.  So, bundled into the courtesy car, we headed off for the Pioneer Cemetery.

What struck the girls immediately was how young the people who had died were.  Miss 10 even found a grave belonging to 11 week old twins.  The messages on the headstones that were there (the majority of the graves are unmarked – the poor couldn’t afford headstones) were so heartfelt, full of sorrow, yet hope that the person who had died would be reunited with their maker and loved ones.  Explaining to the girls why people died so young was interesting.  Watching them grapple with the concept of no sanitation, suspect hygiene practices, no anti biotics or anaesthetic and a limited knowledge of how disease spreads combined with incredibly harsh conditions (it is so dry here!) then come to the understanding of how things have changed, was fascinating.

So onwards to the museum and our gorgeous volunteer.  After the fancy was sorted out, he ushered us in and proceeded to give us a guided tour, starting with putting Miss 10 on a forty year old Kangaroo ride which had been at the front of stores to keep the children quiet.  His passion and knowledge was inspiring – his role at the museum was “to get things going again” so the kids could see how things worked.  He’d done a great job.  He took the girls to play old school gambling games – horse racing, poker machines and games of chance, his friend came along and cranked up an old record player which was a true delight.  He asked the girls if they knew what a boom box was – yes – well this is the first boom box.  Popping the record on, we listened for a bit, before with a twinkle of his eye, our volunteer announced “now here is the boom” and with a flourish, opened the doors to the cabinet and sure enough – boom! – out came the big sound.  The girls were stoked. Onwards to the pianola, an old German periscope, typewriters, cameras, an old school fly drowning contraption (could use one now actually) slates and then a map of the region – complete with an overlay of all the mine tunnels and a history lesson on how the gold reefs of the area were discovered – it was quite by accident, and by an Aboriginal guide after a storm forced the prospecting party to camp for the night on the site of what is now Charters Towers.  The locals keep up his memory, trying to ensure the white fellas don’t get all the credit!  Funnily enough, the history of that find later links with the history of gold discovery in our own area – enter Christie Palmerston and the gold rush stories of the Far North.

Off we toddle – wraps in what resembles the old time Coles café with a friendly face and a decent price for a huge portion of food – complete with the requisite tight arse free chilled water from the fridge.  Onwards to Tower Hill and the bunkers.  Our volunteer had recommended we visit them – it was all terribly fancy he said, the town tourism people had put them in to try to attract more tourists – followed by a giggle.  To be honest, the museum was the highlight!  But to their credit, the bunkers had a great 3D display and were really interesting – it was the beating sun belting on our heads and bodies that were slathered in 50+ sunscreen that were suffering!

Car fixed, onwards Christian Soldiers to the next adventure …