Broken River coal had a run for a while ...

Press, 23 January 1988, Page 24

Broken River coal had a run for a while ...

UNA DROMGOOLE writes about the history, and some remaining signs, of a high country coal mine that supplied Christchurch for several years.

The Mount Torlesse Collieries Company was, in its day, important to Christchurch. For householders, its coal relieved a shortage. For the authorities, it forestalled trouble.

Coal usually came by ship from the West Coast, and deliveries could be irregular. When fuel ran short, anger increased; so did the risk of rioting.

By May, 1918, the coal shortage had become so bad that when a shipment did arrive, a police guard was formed at the State Coal Depot before sales began. Fortunately, the constable found his job easy that time, but a coal supply that did not depend on shipping would be an asset. The same month, the Mount Torlesse Collieries Company began mining. Preparations had been going on for two years, but production had been delayed until the Midland Line reached Avoca, about halfway between Springfield and Cass. The first seam proved difficult and unrewarding. After a few months, mining moved across Broken River to what became the main area, Alum Creek. Trucks of coal were rolling to Christchurch before the end of the year. From the mine, the tramway came down the slope, crossed Broken River by a strong bridge with concrete piers, and continued some distance downstream.

Next was a real obstacle, a river terrace some 150 metres high. Track was constructed with rails and a looped steel cable which ran from the big wheels near the river to the boiler standing at the end of a long spur of the hill called Noman’s Land.

The boiler had to be powerful to haul laden trucks up the steep track, part of which could possibly rival for steepness the wellknown Denniston Incline.

The viaduct spanning the side of the appropriately-named Deep Gully was spectacular. The last section of the tramway was a gentle grade for three kilometres down the hillside finishing with a short, steep run to bins at the

railway siding. The coal was a high-grade lignite with a fairly high sulphur content. Various estimates were made of the amount in the field, one as high as half a million tons. Because some Alum Creek seams were nearly vertical, special methods had to be used, working from the top downwards. In 1919, and again in 1920, production peaked at more than 16,000 tons. At first, the mine workers lived in tents, most of them in a place where the 150-metre terrace swings briefly away from the river and a low terrace has been formed. Present-day trampers visiting at the height of

summer find this an attractive place to camp or stop for lunch. But in the winter, it would be a different matter, especially when wind gusted rain down the rising river, or when frost or snow covered the ground. It is inland at an altitude of 460 metres.

In February, 1919, the housing section of a report from the Chief Inspector of Coal Mines said that 46 men were employed at the mine and four at the screen and bins near the railway, that eight of the men were married with families, and that the tent site was bleak and cold. There had been a bad snowfall the previous winter. Suitable houses for employees,

especially married people, were essential, because if they were not provided before the coming winter, some married employees would leave and this would seriously affect the household coal supply of Christchurch. In other words, the prime purpose of the houses was not necessarily the comfort of miners and families. It was to supply Christchurch with much-needed coal. When the architect Hurst Seagar drew up plans for these houses, he may have been thinking of a settlement about the size of the railway construction camp which had flourished nearby until about 1910, and had peaked at 600 families.

His plans showed a garden township with roads radiating from a public hall. The houses were to have bathrooms with hot and cold water, built-in furniture, glassed-in verandahs and porches, wash-houses and coal bins, all under one roof. The plans included a bowling green and tennis courts.

The report rejected the plan as too costly, adding that coal miners “had been found not to appreciate the more elegant features suggested.” In fact, six houses were built, each with four rooms, bathroom, scullery and outhouse, total cost about $6600. They were far and away better than the tents, and, not far from the boiler, had a grand view up towards Cass and to the hills beyond the Waimakariri.

But at 600 metres and windswept, the site was still cold. Access to the workings was by a good benched track which led for nearly two kilometres down to the big wheels near the river. There is still some evidence of

dwellings near> the boiler and at Alum Creek.

A shortage of miners was one reason production fell off in 1921-22. Competition, after the Otira Tunnel opened, from more popular West Coast coal caused a further fall. For the mine’s last few years, production was less than a quarter that of the peak years.

In 1926, lack of orders caused more than 200 tons of coal to be stored at the Avoca siding through much of the winter. In the ten years of production, a total of 73,680 tons of coal had been produced. The mine closed early in 1928. These days, the tramway from station to boiler is still visible, though overgrown by matagouri and thistles. The boiler is a landmark, with concrete and metal artefacts scattered nearby. Down the incline, the sleepers, rails and cable still lie, rotting and rusting among secondgrowth trees. Girders and beams of the viaduct have disappeared, though at the bottom one concrete base remains.

The viaduct’s deck swings like a greatly elongated hammock from the crumbling cliff face to a rocky outcrop some 80 metres further on, and again from the outcrop to the ground. It is not the same as a tightrope over Niagara Falls, but it is still a long way down to the ravine with its jagged rocks. That the rails are still bolted together bears witness to the strength and thoroughness of their construction; some sleepers have rotted to slip sideways or fall off.

The benched track can still be used with care, but of the six houses not much remains but chimney foundations. In the river, one concrete pier of the bridge to Alum Creek lies forlornly on its side, overturned by a 1926 flood. Upriver, parts of the tramway have disappeared. Here and there are pairs of bogey wheels or parts of a broken or skeletal truck. A rusty boiler lies in the river like a sleeping taniwha, hair-covered by shingle. Leaning against a cliff on the

south side of Broken River in a long pair of almost-vertical rails. At first a puzzle to the visitor, they came from a temporary wooden bridge, long washed away, which led across to a briefly-worked outcrop of coal not far from the main mine. Back at Alum Creek the tram rails can be seen for a short distance, but in this valley the land has either fallen in or been blasted in after the mine closed. Steep, grey cliffs surround the basin, with its broken, slipping

rock and earth marked here and there by the wavy lines of coal seams. Round the top, the tussocks peer over the edge. There is a dangerous-looking sink-hole in one place. Odd bits of ironmongery lie about. There is even a long wire that comes down from near the top, passing on the way through a hole in a rock.

A little sulphurous stream bubbles out and is swelled by other trickles to become Alum Creek. High up in the scrub is evidence

'of a mine entrance, though it is so concealed that a man who found it by accident one day almost failed to find it again the next day. The Mines Department •is emphatic in its warnings of danger to anyone who visits the area.

Anyone driving to Avoca should follow the gravel road which turns off State Highway 73 a short distance on the Christchurch side of Cass. Permission to tramp in the area should be sought from Flock Hill Station.