Articoli di riviste sul tema "Aquifers - New South Wales - Kempsey"

Groundwater and surface water have traditionally been managed separately in New South Wales (NSW). However, where rivers and aquifers are hydraulically connected, groundwater pumping has the potential to deplete streamflow. To highlight the major areas of connection in inland NSW, major streams were overlaid with groundwater depth data and the locations of irrigation bores. A consistent pattern was revealed related to basin geomorphology. The main areas of connection are the mid-sections of the major rivers where alluvial systems are well developed yet still narrow and constricted and groundwater depths are shallow. The mapping was validated and the processes explored by calculating water balances for a connected and disconnected reach in the Murrumbidgee River. These showed that, in highly connected reaches, river losses and/or gains are closely related to groundwater levels.

The Australian Candonidae ostracod fauna has few surface water representatives, despite Australia being one of the principal centers of Candonidae biodiversity. The majority of Australian species live in subterranean waters, with most genera and one tribe being endemic to the continent. Species in Australia show Tethyan and Gondwana connections, with relatives living in European and Central/South American subterranean waters. I describe Hancockcandonopsis gen. nov. from boreholes in the alluvial aquifers of the Peel River and Hunter Valley, which at present contains five species, of which three are named, H. inachos sp. nov., H. io sp. nov., and H. tamworthi sp. nov., and two are left on the open nomenclature. All species are allopatric and short range endemics. The genus belongs to the almost cosmopolitan Candonopsini tribe, and the major generic autapomorphy is a hook-shaped h3-seta on the cleaning leg. Characters on the prehensile palps and hemipenis of Hancockcandonopsis indicate a close relationship with the Queensland genus Pioneercandonopsis Karanovic, 2005 and two West Indies genera, Cubacandona Danielopol, 1978 and Caribecandona Broodbaker, 1983. A cladistic analysis, based on 32 Candonopsini species and 24 morphological characters, is used to test phylogenetic relationships among Candonopsini genera globally. Several hypotheses about the historical biogeography of this tribe are discussed.

Through the use of mitochondrial DNA (ATP8 gene), the prediction of intermediate genetic structuring was investigated in two species of estuarine glassfish (Ambassis marianus and Ambassis jacksoniensis) (Perciformes : Ambassidae) to determine the possibility of a generalised ‘estuarine’ genetic structure. Individuals were collected from estuaries in eastern Australia between Tin Can Bay (Queensland) in the north and Kempsey (New South Wales) in the south. Analysis of the haplotype frequencies found in this region suggested panmictic populations with star-like phylogenies with extremely high levels of genetic diversity, but with no correlation between geographic distance and genetic distance. Non-significant FST and ΦST suggested extensive dispersal among estuaries. However, Tajima’s D and Fu’s FS values suggest ‘mutation–genetic drift equilibrium’ has not been reached, and that population expansions occurring 262 000 (A. marianus) and 300 000 (A. jacksoniensis) years ago may obscure any phylogeographic structuring or isolation by distance. The finding of panmixia was contrary to the prediction of genetic structuring intermediate between that of marine fish (shallowly structured) and freshwater fish (highly structured), suggesting high dispersal capabilities in these species.

Groundwater is essential to crop production in many parts of the world, and the provision of clean groundwater is dependent on healthy groundwater ecosystems. To understand better the functioning of groundwater ecosystems, it is necessary to understand how the biota responds to environmental factors, and so distinguish natural variation from human induced changes. This study compares the groundwater biota of the adjacent Gwydir and Namoi River alluvial aquifers, both in the heartland of Australia’s cotton industry, and investigates the relative importance of environmental, anthropogenic, geological, and evolutionary processes on biotic distribution. Distinct differences in biotic assemblages were recorded between catchments at a community level. However, at a functional level (e.g. microbial activity, stygofauna abundances and richness) both ecosystems were similar. The distribution of biota in both catchments was influenced by similar environmental variables (e.g. geology, carbon availability, season, and land use). Broad trends in biotic distribution were evident: stygofauna responded most strongly to geological variables (reflecting habitat) and microbes to water quality and flow. Agricultural activities influenced biota in both catchments. Although possessing different taxa, the groundwater ecosystems of the two aquifers were functionally similar and responded to similar environmental conditions.

The present study examined the water relations of wallum dry sclerophyll woodland on the lower north coast of New South Wales (NSW). Wallum is the regionally distinct vegetation of Quaternary dunefields and beach ridge plains along the eastern coast of Australia. Wallum sand masses contain large aquifers, and previous studies have suggested that many of the plant species may be groundwater dependent. However, the extent of this dependency is largely unknown, despite an increasing reliance on the aquifers for groundwater extraction. Fifteen species from five growth-form categories and seven plant families were investigated. The pre-dawn and midday xylem water potential (ψx) of all species was monitored over a 20-month period from December 2007 to July 2009. Pressure–volume curve traits were determined for each species in late autumn 2008, including the osmotic potential at full (π100) and zero (π0) turgor, and bulk modulus of elasticity (ε). Carbon isotope ratios (δ13C) were determined in mid-autumn 2008 to measure water use efficiency (WUE). Comparative differences in water relations could be loosely related to growth forms. A tree (Eucalyptus racemosa subsp. racemosa) and most large shrubs had low midday ψx, π100 and π0, and high ε and WUE; whereas the majority of small and medium shrubs had high midday ψx, π100 and π0, and low ε and WUE. However, some species of similar growth form displayed contrasting behaviour in their water relations (e.g. the herbs Caustis recurvata var. recurvata and Hypolaena fastigiata), and such differences require further investigation. The results suggest that E. racemosa subsp. racemosa is likely to be groundwater dependent, and large shrubs such as Banksia aemula may also utilise groundwater. Both species are widespread in wallum, and therefore have the potential to play a key role in monitoring ecosystem health where aquifers are subject to groundwater extraction.

The management of water resources across Australia is undergoing fundamental reform in line with the priorities identified by the Council of Australian Governments (COAG) in 1994. This includes reforms to the specification of property rights, the way the resource is shared between the environment, irrigators and other users, charges for water use and the operational management of the river systems. In New South Wales (NSW), a series of water sharing plans (WSPs) is being developed for each water source in the State including regulated rivers, unregulated rivers and groundwater aquifers. These plans, which are the mechanisms by which COAG reforms are being implemented, are being developed by community-based water management committees (WMCs). The role of the WMCs is to develop a plan that achieves a balance between environmental, economic and social outcomes. NSW Agriculture has assisted a number of WMCs by quantifying the economic impact of proposed WSP options on the irrigation community. This paper outlines the approach taken by NSW Agriculture to quantifying economic impacts on irrigators in regulated catchments and provides results of case studies in the Lachlan River Catchment which is heavily developed for irrigation.

Short-range endemism is common in groundwater fauna (stygofauna), placing many species at risk from anthropogenic impacts such as water abstraction and pollution. Few of the alluvial aquifers in eastern Australia have been sampled for stygofauna. Fauna from two aquifers in Queensland and two in New South Wales was sampled to improve ecological knowledge of stygofauna and the potential threats posed to it by development. Our surveys found stygofauna in all four aquifers, with most taxa collected from bores with low electrical conductivity (<1500 µS cm–1). Taxon richness decreased with distance below the water table. The most taxon-rich bores in each region occurred where the water table depth was <10 m, were associated with the alluvium of tributaries of large regulated river systems, and were near phreatophytic trees. It is possible that tree roots constitute a habitat and source of organic matter in alluvial aquifers as they do in cave streams. It is important to document the biodiversity of particular regions and aquifers so that species can be conserved in the face of increasing groundwater use. For effective resource management, future research should strive to understand the tolerances and ecological requirements of groundwater communities and the ecosystem services they provide.

The eastern Australian aquifers remain mostly unexplored; however, recent surveys suggest that there could be substantial levels of subterranean biodiversity hidden in these aquifers. Groundwater fauna (stygofauna) is often characterised by short-range endemism. Furthermore, high levels of cryptic species, and lack of formal taxonomic descriptions and taxonomic expertise for many of the groups demand innovative approaches for assessing subterranean biodiversity. Here we evaluate the potential of using DNA barcoding as a rapid biodiversity assessment tool for the subterranean groundwater fauna of New South Wales, Australia. We experienced low amplification success using universal and more taxon-specific primers for PCR amplification of the barcoding gene (COI) in a range of crustacean stygofauna. Sequence comparisons of the most commonly used COI universal primers in selected crustacean taxa revealed high levels of variability. Our results suggest that successful amplification of the COI region from crustacean stygofauna is not straightforward using the standard ‘universal’ primers. We propose that the development of a multiprimer (taxon specific) and multigene approach for DNA barcode analyses, using next-generation sequencing methodologies, will help to overcome many of the technical problems reported here and provide a basis for using DNA barcoding for rapid biodiversity assessments of subterranean aquatic ecosystems.

Banking water in aquifers during wet years for long-term storage then recovering it in drought is an application of managed aquifer recharge (MAR) that minimises evaporation losses. This requires a suitable aquifer for long-term storage of banked water and occasional periods when entitlements to surface water are available and affordable. This has been widely practised in Arizona and California but thus far not in Australia, in spite of severe impacts on agriculture, society, and the environment during recent droughts in the Murray–Darling Basin. This preliminary study based on a simple area exclusion analysis using six variables, some on a 90 m grid, over the 1 million km2 basin produced a first estimate of the order of 2–4 × 109 m3 of additional aquifer storage potential in surficial aquifers close to rivers. For 6 of the 23 catchments evaluated, banking capacity exceeded an average water depth of 0.3 m for the irrigated area. At one prospective site in the Macquarie River catchment in New South Wales, water banking operations at various scales were simulated using 55 years of historical monthly hydrologic data, with recharge and recovery triggered by dam storage levels. This showed that the estimated 300 × 106 m3 additional local aquifer capacity could be fully utilised with a recharge and recovery capacity of 6 × 106 m3/month, and recharge occurred in 67% of months and recovery in 7% of months. A novel simulation of water banking with recharge and recovery triggered by water trading prices using 11 years of data gave a benefit cost ratio of ≈ 2. Data showed that water availability for recharge was a tighter constraint on water banking than aquifer storage capacity at this location. The analysis reveals that water banking merits further consideration in the Murray–Darling Basin. Firstly, management across hydrologically connected systems requires accounting for surface water and groundwater entitlements and allocations at the appropriate scale, as well as developing equitable economic and regulatory arrangements. Of course, site-specific assessment of water availability and hydrogeological suitability would be needed prior to construction of demonstration projects to support full-scale implementation.

The production of coalbed methane, or coal seam gas (CSG) in Australia increased 250-fold since the 1990s to around 1502 petajoules in 2019 and continues to expand. Groundwater flow in the aquifers intersected by gas wells could potentially facilitate a transport pathway for migration of contaminants or poorer quality water from deeper formations. While regulatory and mitigation mechanisms are put in place to minimize the risks, quantitative environmental impact assessments are also undertaken. When many gas wells are drilled in a wide area where many potential receptors are also spatially distributed, potential source-receptor combinations are too numerous to undertake detailed contamination risk assessment using contaminant transport modelling. However, valuable information can be gleaned from the analysis of groundwater flow directions and velocities to inform and prioritise contamination risk assessment and can precede computationally challenging stochastic contaminant transport modelling. A probabilistic particle tracking approach was developed as a computationally efficient screening analysis of contamination pathways for a planned CSG development near Narrabri in northern New South Wales, Australia. Particle tracking was run iteratively with a numerical groundwater flow model across a range of plausible parameter sets to generate an ensemble of estimated flow paths through the main Great Artesian Basin aquifer in the area. Spatial patterns of path lines and spatial relationships with potential receptors including neighbouring groundwater extraction wells and hydrologically connected ecological systems were analysed. Particle velocities ranged from 0.5 to 11 m/year and trajectories indicated dedicated contaminant transport modeling would be ideally focused at the local scale where wells are near potential receptors. The results of this type of analysis can inform the design of monitoring strategies and direct new data collection to reduce uncertainty and improve the effectiveness of adaptive management strategies and early detection of impacts.

Large sedimentary basins with multiple aquifer systems like the Great Artesian Basin and the Beetaloo Sub-Basin are associated with large time and spatial scales for regional groundwater flow and mixing effects from inter-aquifer exchange. This makes them difficult to study using traditional hydrogeological investigation techniques. In continental onshore Australia, such sedimentary aquifer systems can also be important freshwater resources. These resources have become increasingly stressed because of growing demand and use of groundwater by multiple industries (e.g. stock, irrigation, mining, oil and gas). The social licence to operate for extractive oil and gas industries increasingly requires robust and reliable scientific evidence on the degree to which the target formations are vertically and laterally hydraulically separated from the aquifers supplying fresh water for stock and agricultural use. The complexity of such groundwater interactions can only be interpreted by applying multiple lines of evidence including environmental isotopes, hydrochemistry, hydrogeological and geophysical observations. We present an overview of multi-tracer studies from coal seam gas areas (Queensland and New South Wales) or areas targeted for shale gas development (Northern Territory). The focus was to investigate recharge to surficial karst and deep confined aquifer systems before industrial extraction on time scales of decades up to one million years and aquifer inter-connectivity at the formation scale. A systematic and consistent methodology is applied for the different case study areas aimed at building robust conceptual hydrogeological models that inform groundwater management and groundwater modelling. The tracer studies provided (i) in all areas increased confidence around recharge estimates, (ii) evidence for a dual-porosity flow system in the Hutton Sandstone (Queensland) and (iii) new insights into the connectivity, or lack thereof, of flow systems.

Dryland salinity is recognised as a major environmental concern on the Liverpool Plains in north-eastern New South Wales. Previous hydrogeological and dryland salinity studies have highlighted the importance of adopting appropriate farming systems to reduce recharge into shallow aquifers. In this study, we applied the cropping systems model PERFECT to investigate the effects of climate, soil, and land use on recharge. Model inputs were derived from a range of sources including historical weather data, soil survey data, and information from landholder surveys. We investigated 47 different soils identified in a published soil survey covering approximately 280 000 ha of the Liverpool Plains. This study demonstrated a significant variation in soil physical properties and estimated recharge within soil types and illustrates the dangers of generalising soils into broad groupings. For example, under a wheat-sorghum rotation, predicted average annual recharge for soils classified as black earths ranged from 28 to 80 mm. Similar variability of predicted drainage is evident within other Great Soil Groups. The results reveal that response cropping alone will not significantly reduce recharge for all soils. Considering one black earth soil, average annual recharge is predicted to be 48 mm for a wheat-sorghum rotation, 22 mm for a response cropping rotation, and 8 mm for a lucerne{response cropping rotation. Therefore, including lucerne within a response cropping system is of benfit in reducing recharge. For all soil types, least recharge is predicted for permanent pasture but this land use is not an attractive option to farmers given the diversity of farming systems in the region. However, for some soils, continuous pasture is appropriate because excessive recharge is estimated for all cropping systems. This study has extended previous modelling work in the region as it considered a much wider range of soil types and cropping systems than previously investigated. Such a modelling approach permits the quantification of the effects of climate, soil type, and land use on recharge below the root-zone.

Unconventional energy sources have become increasingly important to the global energy mix. These include coal seam gas, shale gas and shale oil. The unconventional gas industry was pioneered in the United States and embraced following the first oil shock in 1973 (Rogers). As has been the case with many global resources (Hiscock), many of the same companies that worked in the USA carried their experience in this industry to early Australian explorations. Recently the USA has secured significant energy security with the development of unconventional energy deposits such as the Marcellus shale gas and the Bakken shale oil (Dobb; McGraw). But this has not come without environmental impact, including contamination to underground water supply (Osborn, Vengosh, Warner, Jackson) and potential greenhouse gas contributions (Howarth, Santoro, Ingraffea; McKenna). The environmental impact of unconventional gas extraction has raised serious public concern about the introduction and growth of the industry in Australia. In coal rich Australia coal seam gas is currently the major source of unconventional gas. Large gas deposits have been found in prime agricultural land along eastern Australia, such as the Liverpool Plains in New South Wales and the Darling Downs in Queensland. Competing land-uses and a series of environmental incidents from the coal seam gas industry have warranted major protest from a coalition of environmentalists and farmers (Berry; McLeish). Conflict between energy companies wanting development and environmentalists warning precaution is an easy script to cast for frontline media coverage. But historical perspectives are often missing in these contemporary debates. While coal mining and natural gas have often received “boosting” historical coverage (Diamond; Wilkinson), and although historical themes of “development” and “rushes” remain predominant when observing the span of the industry (AGA; Blainey), the history of unconventional gas, particularly the history of its environmental impact, has been little studied. Few people are aware, for example, that the first shale gas exploratory well was completed in late 2010 in the Cooper Basin in Central Australia (Molan) and is considered as a “new” frontier in Australian unconventional gas. Moreover many people are unaware that the first coal seam gas wells were completed in 1976 in Queensland. The first four wells offer an important moment for reflection in light of the industry’s recent move into Central Australia. By locating and analysing the first four coal seam gas wells, this essay identifies the roots of the unconventional gas industry in Australia and explores the early environmental impact of these wells. By analysing exploration reports that have been placed online by the Queensland Department of Natural Resources and Mines through the lens of environmental history, the dominant developmental narrative of this industry can also be scrutinised. These narratives often place more significance on economic and national benefits while displacing the environmental and social impacts of the industry (Connor, Higginbotham, Freeman, Albrecht; Duus; McEachern; Trigger). This essay therefore seeks to bring an environmental insight into early unconventional gas mining in Australia. As the author, I am concerned that nearly four decades on and it seems that no one has heeded the warning gleaned from these early wells and early exploration reports, as gas exploration in Australia continues under little scrutiny. Arrival The first four unconventional gas wells in Australia appear at the beginning of the industry world-wide (Schraufnagel, McBane, and Kuuskraa; McClanahan). The wells were explored by Houston Oils and Minerals—a company that entered the Australian mining scene by sharing a mining prospect with International Australian Energy Company (Wiltshire). The International Australian Energy Company was owned by Black Giant Oil Company in the US, which in turn was owned by International Royalty and Oil Company also based in the US. The Texan oilman Robert Kanton held a sixteen percent share in the latter. Kanton had an idea that the Mimosa Syncline in the south-eastern Bowen Basin was a gas trap waiting to be exploited. To test the theory he needed capital. Kanton presented the idea to Houston Oil and Minerals which had the financial backing to take the risk. Shotover No. 1 was drilled by Houston Oil and Minerals thirty miles south-east of the coal mining town of Blackwater. By late August 1975 it was drilled to 2,717 metres, discovered to have little gas, spudded, and, after a spend of $610,000, abandoned. The data from the Shotover well showed that the porosity of the rocks in the area was not a trap, and the Mimosa Syncline was therefore downgraded as a possible hydrocarbon location. There was, however, a small amount of gas found in the coal seams (Benbow 16). The well had passed through the huge coal seams of both the Bowen and Surat basins—important basins for the future of both the coal and gas industries. Mining Concepts In 1975, while Houston Oil and Minerals was drilling the Shotover well, US Steel and the US Bureau of Mines used hydraulic fracture, a technique already used in the petroleum industry, to drill vertical surface wells to drain gas from a coal seam (Methane Drainage Taskforce 102). They were able to remove gas from the coal seam before it was mined and sold enough to make a profit. With the well data from the Shotover well in Australia compiled, Houston returned to the US to research the possibility of harvesting methane in Australia. As the company saw it, methane drainage was “a novel exploitation concept” and the methane in the Bowen Basin was an “enormous hydrocarbon resource” (Wiltshire 7). The Shotover well passed through a section of the German Creek Coal measures and this became their next target. In September 1976 the Shotover well was re-opened and plugged at 1499 meters to become Australia’s first exploratory unconventional gas well. By the end of the month the rig was released and gas production tested. At one point an employee on the drilling operation observed a gas flame “the size of a 44 gal drum” (HOMA, “Shotover # 1” 9). But apart from the brief show, no gas flowed. And yet, Houston Oil and Minerals was not deterred, as they had already taken out other leases for further prospecting (Wiltshire 4). Only a week after the Shotover well had failed, Houston moved the methane search south-east to an area five miles north of the Moura township. Houston Oil and Minerals had researched the coal exploration seismic surveys of the area that were conducted in 1969, 1972, and 1973 to choose the location. Over the next two months in late 1976, two new wells—Kinma No.1 and Carra No.1—were drilled within a mile from each other and completed as gas wells. Houston Oil and Minerals also purchased the old oil exploration well Moura No. 1 from the Queensland Government and completed it as a suspended gas well. The company must have mined the Department of Mines archive to find Moura No.1, as the previous exploration report from 1969 noted methane given off from the coal seams (Sell). By December 1976 Houston Oil and Minerals had three gas wells in the vicinity of each other and by early 1977 testing had occurred. The results were disappointing with minimal gas flow at Kinma and Carra, but Moura showed a little more promise. Here, the drillers were able to convert their Fairbanks-Morse engine driving the pump from an engine run on LPG to one run on methane produced from the well (Porter, “Moura # 1”). Drink This? Although there was not much gas to find in the test production phase, there was a lot of water. The exploration reports produced by the company are incomplete (indeed no report was available for the Shotover well), but the information available shows that a large amount of water was extracted before gas started to flow (Porter, “Carra # 1”; Porter, “Moura # 1”; Porter, “Kinma # 1”). As Porter’s reports outline, prior to gas flowing, the water produced at Carra, Kinma and Moura totalled 37,600 litres, 11,900 and 2,900 respectively. It should be noted that the method used to test the amount of water was not continuous and these amounts were not the full amount of water produced; also, upon gas coming to the surface some of the wells continued to produce water. In short, before any gas flowed at the first unconventional gas wells in Australia at least 50,000 litres of water were taken from underground. Results show that the water was not ready to drink (Mathers, “Moura # 1”; Mathers, “Appendix 1”; HOMA, “Miscellaneous Pages” 21-24). The water had total dissolved solids (minerals) well over the average set by the authorities (WHO; Apps Laboratories; NHMRC; QDAFF). The well at Kinma recorded the highest levels, almost two and a half times the unacceptable standard. On average the water from the Moura well was of reasonable standard, possibly because some water was extracted from the well when it was originally sunk in 1969; but the water from Kinma and Carra was very poor quality, not good enough for crops, stock or to be let run into creeks. The biggest issue was the sodium concentration; all wells had very high salt levels. Kinma and Carra were four and two times the maximum standard respectively. In short, there was a substantial amount of poor quality water produced from drilling and testing the three wells. Fracking Australia Hydraulic fracturing is an artificial process that can encourage more gas to flow to the surface (McGraw; Fischetti; Senate). Prior to the testing phase at the Moura field, well data was sent to the Chemical Research and Development Department at Halliburton in Oklahoma, to examine the ability to fracture the coal and shale in the Australian wells. Halliburton was the founding father of hydraulic fracture. In Oklahoma on 17 March 1949, operating under an exclusive license from Standard Oil, this company conducted the first ever hydraulic fracture of an oil well (Montgomery and Smith). To come up with a program of hydraulic fracturing for the Australian field, Halliburton went back to the laboratory. They bonded together small slabs of coal and shale similar to Australian samples, drilled one-inch holes into the sample, then pressurised the holes and completed a “hydro-frac” in miniature. “These samples were difficult to prepare,” they wrote in their report to Houston Oil and Minerals (HOMA, “Miscellaneous Pages” 10). Their program for fracturing was informed by a field of science that had been evolving since the first hydraulic fracture but had rapidly progressed since the first oil shock. Halliburton’s laboratory test had confirmed that the model of Perkins and Kern developed for widths of hydraulic fracture—in an article that defined the field—should also apply to Australian coals (Perkins and Kern). By late January 1977 Halliburton had issued Houston Oil and Minerals with a program of hydraulic fracture to use on the central Queensland wells. On the final page of their report they warned: “There are many unknowns in a vertical fracture design procedure” (HOMA, “Miscellaneous Pages” 17). In July 1977, Moura No. 1 became the first coal seam gas well hydraulically fractured in Australia. The exploration report states: “During July 1977 the well was killed with 1% KCL solution and the tubing and packer were pulled from the well … and pumping commenced” (Porter 2-3). The use of the word “kill” is interesting—potassium chloride (KCl) is the third and final drug administered in the lethal injection of humans on death row in the USA. Potassium chloride was used to minimise the effect on parts of the coal seam that were water-sensitive and was the recommended solution prior to adding other chemicals (Montgomery and Smith 28); but a word such as “kill” also implies that the well and the larger environment were alive before fracking commenced (Giblett; Trigger). Pumping recommenced after the fracturing fluid was unloaded. Initially gas supply was very good. It increased from an average estimate of 7,000 cubic feet per day to 30,000, but this only lasted two days before coal and sand started flowing back up to the surface. In effect, the cleats were propped open but the coal did not close and hold onto them which meant coal particles and sand flowed back up the pipe with diminishing amounts of gas (Walters 12). Although there were some interesting results, the program was considered a failure. In April 1978, Houston Oil and Minerals finally abandoned the methane concept. Following the failure, they reflected on the possibilities for a coal seam gas industry given the gas prices in Queensland: “Methane drainage wells appear to offer no economic potential” (Wooldridge 2). At the wells they let the tubing drop into the hole, put a fifteen foot cement plug at the top of the hole, covered it with a steel plate and by their own description restored the area to its “original state” (Wiltshire 8). Houston Oil and Minerals now turned to “conventional targets” which included coal exploration (Wiltshire 7). A Thousand Memories The first four wells show some of the critical environmental issues that were present from the outset of the industry in Australia. The process of hydraulic fracture was not just a failure, but conducted on a science that had never been tested in Australia, was ponderous at best, and by Halliburton’s own admission had “many unknowns”. There was also the role of large multinationals providing “experience” (Briody; Hiscock) and conducting these tests while having limited knowledge of the Australian landscape. Before any gas came to the surface, a large amount of water was produced that was loaded with a mixture of salt and other heavy minerals. The source of water for both the mud drilling of Carra and Kinma, as well as the hydraulic fracture job on Moura, was extracted from Kianga Creek three miles from the site (HOMA, “Carra # 1” 5; HOMA, “Kinma # 1” 5; Porter, “Moura # 1”). No location was listed for the disposal of the water from the wells, including the hydraulic fracture liquid. Considering the poor quality of water, if the water was disposed on site or let drain into a creek, this would have had significant environmental impact. Nobody has yet answered the question of where all this water went. The environmental issues of water extraction, saline water and hydraulic fracture were present at the first four wells. At the first four wells environmental concern was not a priority. The complexity of inter-company relations, as witnessed at the Shotover well, shows there was little time. The re-use of old wells, such as the Moura well, also shows that economic priorities were more important. Even if environmental information was considered important at the time, no one would have had access to it because, as handwritten notes on some of the reports show, many of the reports were “confidential” (Sell). Even though coal mines commenced filing Environmental Impact Statements in the early 1970s, there is no such documentation for gas exploration conducted by Houston Oil and Minerals. A lack of broader awareness for the surrounding environment, from floral and faunal health to the impact on habitat quality, can be gleaned when reading across all the exploration reports. Nearly four decades on and we now have thousands of wells throughout the world. Yet, the challenges of unconventional gas still persist. The implications of the environmental history of the first four wells in Australia for contemporary unconventional gas exploration and development in this country and beyond are significant. Many environmental issues were present from the beginning of the coal seam gas industry in Australia. Owning up to this history would place policy makers and regulators in a position to strengthen current regulation. The industry continues to face the same challenges today as it did at the start of development—including water extraction, hydraulic fracturing and problems associated with drilling through underground aquifers. Looking more broadly at the unconventional gas industry, shale gas has appeared as the next target for energy resources in Australia. Reflecting on the first exploratory shale gas wells drilled in Central Australia, the chief executive of the company responsible for the shale gas wells noted their deliberate decision to locate their activities in semi-desert country away from “an area of prime agricultural land” and conflict with environmentalists (quoted in Molan). Moreover, the journalist Paul Cleary recently complained about the coal seam gas industry polluting Australia’s food-bowl but concluded that the “next frontier” should be in “remote” Central Australia with shale gas (Cleary 195). It appears that preference is to move the industry to the arid centre of Australia, to the ecologically and culturally unique Lake Eyre Basin region (Robin and Smith). Claims to move the industry away from areas that might have close public scrutiny disregard many groups in the Lake Eyre Basin, such as Aboriginal rights to land, and appear similar to other industrial projects that disregard local inhabitants, such as mega-dams and nuclear testing (Nixon). References AGA (Australian Gas Association). “Coal Seam Methane in Australia: An Overview.” AGA Research Paper 2 (1996). Apps Laboratories. “What Do Your Water Test Results Mean?” Apps Laboratories 7 Sept. 2012. 1 May 2013 ‹http://appslabs.com.au/downloads.htm›. Benbow, Dennis B. “Shotover No. 1: Lithology Report for Houston Oil and Minerals Corporation.” November 1975. Queensland Digital Exploration Reports. Company Report 5457_2. Brisbane: Queensland Department of Resources and Mines 4 June 2012. 1 May 2013 ‹https://qdexguest.deedi.qld.gov.au/portal/site/qdex/search?REPORT_ID=5457&COLLECTION_ID=999›. 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Introduction The counterculture that arose during the 1960s and 1970s left lasting social and political reverberations in developed nations. This was a time of increasing affluence and liberalisation which opened up remarkable political opportunities for social change. Within this context, an array of new social movements were a vital ingredient of the ferment that saw existing norms challenged and the establishment of new rights for many oppressed groups. An expanding arena of concerns included the environmental damage caused by 200 years of industrial capitalism. This article examines one aspect of a current environment movement in Australia, the anti-Coal Seam Gas (CSG) movement, and the part played by participants. In particular, the focus is upon one action that emerged during the recent Bentley Blockade, which was a regional mobilisation against proposed unconventional gas mining (UGM) near Lismore, NSW. Over the course of the blockade, the conventional ritual of waving at passers-by was transformed into a mechanism for garnering broad community support. Arguably, this was a crucial factor in the eventual outcome. In this case, we contend that the wave, rather than a countercultural artefact being appropriated by the mainstream, represents an everyday behaviour that builds social solidarity, which is subverted to become an effective part of the repertoire of the movement. At a more general level, this article examines how counterculture and mainstream interact via the subversion of “ordinary” citizens and the role of certain cultural understandings for that purpose. We will begin by examining the nature of the counterculture and its relationship to social movements before discussing the character of the anti-CSG movement in general and the Bentley Blockade in particular, using the personal experience of one of the writers. We will then be able to explore our thesis in detail and make some concluding remarks. The Counterculture and Social Movements In this article, we follow Cox’s understanding of the counterculture as a kind of meta-movement within which specific social movements are situated. For Cox (105), the counterculture that flourished during the 1960s and 1970s was an overarching movement in which existing social relations—in particular the family—were rejected by a younger generation, who succeeded in effectively fusing previously separate political and cultural spheres of dissent into one. Cox (103-04) points out that the precondition for such a phenomenon is “free space”—conditions under which counter-hegemonic activity can occur—for example, being liberated from the constraints of working to subsist, something which the unprecedented prosperity of the post WWII years allowed. Hence, in the 1960s and 1970s, as the counterculture emerged, a wave of activism arose in the western world which later came to be referred to as new social movements. These included the civil rights movement, women’s liberation, pacifism and the anti-nuclear and environment movements. The new movements rejected established power and organisational structures and tended, some scholars argued, to cross class lines, basing their claims on non-material issues. Della Porta and Diani claim this wave of movements is characterised by: a critical ideology in relation to modernism and progress; decentralized and participatory organizational structures; defense of interpersonal solidarity against the great bureaucracies; and the reclamation of autonomous spaces, rather than material advantages. (9) This depiction clearly announces the countercultural nature of the new social movements. As Carter (91) avers, these movements attempted to bypass the state and instead mobilise civil society, employing a range of innovative tactics and strategies—the repertoire of action—which may involve breaking laws. It should be noted that over time, some of these movements did shift towards accommodation of existing power structures and became more reformist in nature, to the point of forming political parties in the case of the Greens. However, inasmuch as the counterculture represented a merging of distinctively non-mainstream ways of life with the practice of actively challenging social arrangements at a political level (Cox 18–19; Grossberg 15–18;), the tactic of mobilising civil society to join social movements demonstrates in fact a reverse direction: large numbers of people are transfigured in radical ways by their involvement in social movements. One important principle underlying much of the repertoire of action of these new movements was non-violence. Again, this signals countercultural norms of the period. As Sharp (583–86) wrote at the time, non-violence is crucial in that it denies the aggressor their rationale for violent repression. This principle is founded on the liberal notion, whose legacy goes back to Locke, that the legitimacy of the government rests upon the consent of the governed—that is, the people can withdraw their consent (Locke in Ball & Dagger 92). Ghandi also relied upon this idea when formulating his non-violent approach to conflict, satyagraha (Sharp 83–84). Thus an idea that upholds the modern state is adopted by the counterculture in order to undermine it (the state), again demonstrating an instance of counterflow from the mainstream. Non-violence does not mean non-resistance. In fact, it usually involves non-compliance with a government or other authority and when practised in large numbers, can be very effective, as Ghandi and those in the civil rights movement showed. The result will be either that the government enters into negotiation with the protestors, or they can engage in violence to suppress them, which generally alienates the wider population, leading to a loss of support (Finley & Soifer 104–105). Tarrow (88) makes the important point that the less threatening an action, the harder it is to repress. As a result, democratic states have generally modified their response towards the “strategic weapon of nonviolent protest and even moved towards accommodation and recognition of this tactic as legitimate” (Tarrow 172). Nevertheless, the potential for state violence remains, and the freedom to protest is proscribed by various laws. One of the key figures to emerge from the new social movements that formed an integral part of the counterculture was Bill Moyer, who, in conjunction with colleagues produced a seminal text for theorising and organising social movements (Moyer et al.). Many contemporary social movements have been significantly influenced by Moyer’s Movement Action Plan (MAP), which describes not only key theoretical concepts but is also a practical guide to movement building and achieving aims. Moyer’s model was utilised in training the Northern Rivers community in the anti-CSG movement in conjunction with the non-violent direct action (NVDA) model developed by the North-East Forest Alliance (NEFA) that resisted logging in the forests of north-eastern NSW during the late 1980s and 1990s (Ricketts 138–40). Indeed, the Northern Rivers region of NSW—dubbed the Rainbow Region—is celebrated, as a “‘meeting place’ of countercultures and for the articulation of social and environmental ideals that challenge mainstream practice” (Ward and van Vuuren 63). As Bible (6–7) outlines, the Northern Rivers’ place in countercultural history is cemented by the holding of the Aquarius Festival in Nimbin in 1973 and the consequent decision of many attendees to stay on and settle in the region. They formed new kinds of communities based on an alternative ethics that eschewed a consumerist, individualist agenda in favour of modes of existence that emphasised living in harmony with the environment. The Terania Creek campaign of the late 1970s made the region famous for its environmental activism, when the new settlers resisted the logging of Nightcap National Park using nonviolent methods (Bible 5). It was also instrumental in developing an array of ingenious actions that were used in subsequent campaigns such as the Franklin Dam blockade in Tasmania in the early 1980s (Kelly 116). Indeed, many of these earlier activists were key figures in the anti-CSG movement that has developed in the Rainbow Region over the last few years. The Anti-CSG Movement Despite opposition to other forms of UGM, such as tight sands and shale oil extraction techniques, the term anti-CSG is used here, as it still seems to attract wide recognition. Unconventional gas extraction usually involves a process called fracking, which is the injection at high pressure of water, sand and a number of highly toxic chemicals underground to release the gas that is trapped in rock formations. Among the risks attributed to fracking are contamination of aquifers, air pollution from fugitive emissions and exposure to radioactive particles with resultant threats to human and animal health, as well as an increased risk of earthquakes (Ellsworth; Hand 13; Sovacool 254–260). Additionally, the vast amount of water that is extracted in the fracking process is saline and may contain residues of the fracking chemicals, heavy metals and radioactive matter. This produced water must either be stored or treated (Howarth 273–73; Sovacool 255). Further, there is potential for accidents and incidents and there are many reports—particularly in the United States where the practice is well established—of adverse events such as compressors exploding, leaks and spills, and water from taps catching fire (Sovacool 255–257). Despite an abundance of anecdotal evidence, until recently authorities and academics believed there was not enough “rigorous evidence” to make a definitive judgment of harm to animal and human health as a result of fracking (Mitka 2135). For example, in Australia, the Queensland Government was unable to find a clear link between fracking and health complaints in the Tara gasfield (Thompson 56), even though it is known that there are fugitive emissions from these gasfields (Tait et al. 3099-103). It is within this context that grassroots opposition to UGM began in Australia. The largest and most sustained challenge has come from the Northern Rivers of New South Wales, where a company called Metgasco has been attempting to engage in UGM for a number of years. Stiff community opposition has developed over this time, with activists training, co-ordinating and organising using the principles of Moyer’s MAP and NEFA’s NVDA. Numerous community and affinity groups opposing UGM sprang up including the Lock the Gate Alliance (LTG), a grassroots organisation opposing coal and gas mining, which formed in 2010 (Lock the Gate Alliance online). The movement put up sustained resistance to Metgasco’s attempts to establish wells at Glenugie, near Grafton and Doubtful Creek, near Kyogle in 2012 and 2013, despite the use of a substantial police presence at both locations. In the event, neither site was used for production despite exploratory wells being sunk (ABC News; Dobney). Metgasco announced it would be withdrawing its operations following new Federal and State government regulations at the time of the Doubtful Creek blockade. However it returned to the fray with a formal announcement in February 2014 (Metgasco), that it would drill at Bentley, 12 kilometres west of Lismore. It was widely believed this would occur with a view to production on an industrial scale should initial exploration prove fruitful. The Bentley Blockade It was known well before the formal announcement that Metgasco planned to drill at Bentley and community actions such as flash mobs, media releases and planning meetings were part of the build-up to direct action at the site. One of the authors of this article was actively involved in the movement and participated in a variety of these actions. By the end of January 2014 it was decided to hold an ongoing vigil at the site, which was still entirely undeveloped. Participants, including one author, volunteered for four-hour shifts which began at 5 a.m. each day and before long, were lasting into the night. The purpose of a vigil is to bear witness, maintain a presence and express a point of view. It thus accords well with the principle of non-violence. Eventually the site mushroomed into a tent village with three gates being blockaded. The main gate, Gate A, sprouted a variety of poles, tripods and other installations together with colourful tents and shelters, peopled by protesters on a 24-hour basis. The vigils persisted on all three gates for the duration of the blockade. As the number of blockaders swelled, popular support grew, lending weight to the notion that countercultural ideas and practices were spreading throughout the community. In response, Metgasco called on the State Government to provide police to coincide with the arrival of equipment. It was rumoured that 200 police would be drafted to defend the site in late April. When alerts were sent out to the community warning of imminent police action, an estimated crowd of 2000 people attended in the early hours of the morning and the police called off their operation (Feliu). As the weeks wore on, training was stepped up, attendees were educated in non-violent resistance and protestors willing to act as police liaison persons were placed on a rotating roster. In May, the State Government was preparing to send up to 800 police and the Riot Squad to break the blockade (NSW Hansard in Buckingham). Local farmers (now a part of the movement) and activist leaders had gone to Sydney in an effort to find a political solution in order to avoid what threatened to be a clash that would involve police violence. A confluence of events, such as: the sudden resignation of the Premier; revelations via the Independent Commission against Corruption about nefarious dealings and undue influence of the coal industry upon the government; a radio interview with locals by a popular broadcaster in Sydney; and the reputed hesitation of the police themselves in engaging with a group of possibly 7,000 to 10,000 protestors, resulted in the Office for Coal Seam Gas suspending Metgasco’s drilling licence on 15 May (NSW Department of Resources & Energy). The grounds were that the company had not adequately fulfilled its obligations to consult with the community. At the date of writing, the suspension still holds. The Wave The repertoire of contention at the Bentley Blockade was expansive, comprising most of the standard actions and strategies developed in earlier environmental struggles. These included direct blocking tactics in addition to the use of more carnivalesque actions like music and theatre, as well as the use of various media to reach a broader public. Non-violence was at the core of all actions, but we would tentatively suggest that Bentley may have provided a novel addition to the repertoire, stemming originally from the vigil, which brought the first protestors to the site. At the beginning of the vigil, which was initially held near the entrance to the proposed drilling site atop a cutting, occupants of passing vehicles below would demonstrate their support by sounding their horns and/or waving to the vigil-keepers, who at first were few in number. There was a precedent for this behaviour in the campaign leading up to the blockade. Activist groups such as the Knitting Nannas against Gas had encouraged vehicles to show support by sounding their horns. So when the motorists tooted spontaneously at Bentley, we waved back. Occupants of other vehicles would show disapproval by means of rude gestures and/or yelling and we would wave to them as well. After some weeks, as a presence began to be established at the site, it became routine for vigil keepers to smile and wave at all passing vehicles. This often elicited a positive response. After the first mass call-out discussed above, a number of us migrated to another gate, where numbers were much sparser and there was a perceived need for a greater presence. At this point, the participating writer had begun to act as a police liaison person, but the practice of waving routinely was continued. Those protecting this gate usually included protestors ready to block access, the police liaison person, a legal observer, vigil-keepers and a passing parade of visitors. Because this location was directly on the road, it was possible to see the drivers of vehicles and make eye contact more easily. Certain vehicles became familiar, passing at regular times, on the way to work or school, for example. As time passed, most of those protecting the gate also joined the waving ritual to the point where it became like a game to try to prise a signal of acknowledgement from the passing motorists, or even to win over a disapprover. Police vehicles, some of which passed at set intervals, were included in this game. Mostly they waved cheerfully. There were some we never managed to win over, but waving and making direct eye contact with regular motorists over time created a sense of community and an acknowledgement of the work we were doing, as they increasingly responded in kind. Motorists could hardly feel threatened when they encountered smiling, waving protestors. By including the disapprovers, we acted inclusively and our determined good humour seemed to de-escalate demonstrated hostility. Locals who did not want drilling to go ahead but who were nevertheless unwilling to join a direct action were thus able to participate in the resistance in a way that may have felt safe for them. Some of them even stopped and visited the site, voicing their support. Standing on the side of the road and waving to passers-by may seem peripheral to the “real” action, even trivial. But we would argue it is a valuable adjunct to a blockade (which is situated near a road) when one of the strategies of the overall campaign is to win popular backing. Hence waving, whilst not a completely new part of the repertoire, constitutes what Tilly (41–45) would call innovation at the margins, something he asserts is necessary to maintain the effectiveness and vitality of contentious action. In this case, it is arguable that the sheer size of community support probably helped to concentrate the minds of the state government politicians in Sydney, particularly as they contemplated initiating a massive, taxpayer-funded police action against the people for the benefit of a commercial operation. Waving is a symbolic gesture indicating acknowledgement and goodwill. It fits well within a repertoire based on the principle of non-violence. Moreover, it is a conventional social norm and everyday behaviour that is so innocuous that it is difficult to see how it could be suppressed by police or other authorities. Therein lies its subversiveness. For in communicating our common humanity in a spirit of friendliness, we drew attention to the fact that we were without rancour and tacitly invited others to join us and to explore our concerns. In this way, the counterculture drew upon a mainstream custom to develop and extend upon a new form of dissent. This constitutes a reversal of the more usual phenomenon of countercultural artefacts—such as “hippie clothing”—being appropriated or co-opted by the prevailing culture (see Reading). But it also fits with the more general phenomenon that we have argued was occurring; that of enticing ordinary residents into joining together in countercultural activity, via the pathway of a social movement. Conclusion The anti-CSG movement in the Northern Rivers was developed and organised by countercultural participants of previous contentious challenges. It was highly effective in building popular support whilst at the same time forging a loose coalition of various activist groups. We have surveyed one practice—the wave—that evolved out of mainstream culture over the course of the Bentley Blockade and suggested it may come to be seen as part of the repertoire of actions that can be beneficially employed under suitable conditions. 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