Artykuły w czasopismach na temat „Sandalwood oil industry – Western Australia”

The oil and gas production sector in Western Australia has grown dramatically in recent years and now represents the largest resource sector in the State economy. The industry has a very promising future but it faces a number of challenges if it is to achieve its full potential. Its production location in remote parts of the State confers both advantages and disadvantages. Chief among the disadvantages is the challenge of convincing the community and government of the benefits from the industry when many of those benefits are not apparent to the majority of the population. The emphasis in this paper is on economic impacts, social benefits and community attitudes.WA has produced about 820 million barrels of oil and 2000 million barrels of natural gas when gas is calculated in energy equivalent terms. Petroleum energy production has increased dramatically over the last 15 years and the State is now a substantial energy exporter. Petroleum sources provide the energy for over 85% of the final energy used in the State. Total industry investment over the last 18 years has been nearly $21,000 million for an average of $3.2 million each day. Direct employment by petroleum companies is around 2,500 people with flow-on employment in the services sector estimated at over 17,000 people. Petroleum companies have been major contributors to government revenue and to the development of remote regions in WA.

The commercially valuable root hemiparasite Santalum spicatum (R.Br.) A.DC. (sandalwood) once grew throughout the medium- to low-rainfall areas of the south-western agricultural region of Australia; however, this resource has been exhausted by over-exploitation and clearing for agriculture. There has been growing interest from the farming community and other investors in the development of a plantation Santalum spicatum industry in southern Western Australia. This study investigated the distribution of remnant S. spicatum within the Pallinup River catchment and assessed the risk of S. spicatum population decline due to salinity. The natural range of host species at different sites (river catchments) across the south coast was also investigated. Remnant populations of S.�spicatum within and adjacent to the Pallinup River catchment were small (1–70 trees) and highly fragmented. The risk of further population decline due to salinity was concluded to be small because remnant trees were generally growing in well drained, sandy soils that were elevated above (median 9 m) their immediate drainage line. Across the seven river catchments surveyed, S. spicatum occurred in a range of vegetation associations and parasitised numerous species (68) from a wide range of genera and families. The suite of species exploited varied within and between catchments. Thirty species, including most monocots and Myrtaceae, were not successfully parasitised. Remnant S. spicatum always occurred on well drained soil types that supported open-woodland or mallee–heath communities. Sandalwood plantations, supported by numerous individuals of a range of host species (10–40 species), were shown to be productive in terms of sandalwood growth. The scale of the developing sandalwood plantation industry is likely to be small and unlikely to cover large areas of catchments. Thus, this industry alone is unlikely to address the salinity crisis through broadscale recharge management. However, additional to on-site recharge reduction, biodiverse host plantations may improve the prospects for biodiversity and rivers in salinising landscapes through the protection and enhancement of natural biodiversity, creation of new habitat, conservation of plant species and by providing a commercial incentive to protect biodiversity.

Oil and gas production is characterised by a truly international industry, and yet a unique local environment. Solutions developed elsewhere cannot always be imported directly for Australian use. For this reason alone, a strong local technology base is of value to the Australian oil and gas industry. Other benefits include the ability to provide high quality education and training for people entering, and already in, the industry.A case study is described where the Western Australian technology base is facilitating solutions to a specific challenge faced on the North West Shelf (NWS); namely, that the criteria for reliable development and operation of its offshore infrastructure for oil and gas production are more severe than other petroleum provinces, requiring new analytical tools to be developed.

The skilled labour shortage facing the upstream oil and gas industry is encouraging companies who have already begun to examine ways of increasing the number of indigenous people in their workforce.It is common practice for companies to use fly-in flyout solutions to build a stable workforce in remote areas. While this suits many workers and operations, a simpler solution arguably would be to have a skilled workforce who works in their home region. Many resource companies are now placing a renewed emphasis on training indigenous people to take on roles in the oil and gas industry. A highly skilled local workforce will have benefits for industry with a reduction in logistical costs and an increase in retention rates.This paper describes the challenges facing companies which elect to develop those skills in a largely technically unskilled indigenous community. The paper uses a range of case studies drawn from company experience. It further showcases some success stories and describes where the industry might need to focus its efforts in order to achieve a more equitable training and employment outcome for Australia’s indigenous communities.

Santalum spicatum (R.Br.) A.DC is a West Australian sandalwood species highly valued for the sesquiterpene-rich oil in mature heartwood. The oil composition, particularly levels of the valuable sesquiterpenoids α- and β-santalol and the allergenic E,E-farnesol, are known to vary across its natural distribution. Our study investigated associations of oil characteristics in 186 S. spicatum trees in semiarid and arid regions of Western Australia with genetic structure, environmental parameters and morphological features. We found associations between oil composition and genetic structure, as well as between oil composition and environmental factors. Analysis of individuals using STRUCTURE revealed two major genetic clusters (K = 2), comprising trees from the arid north clustered together, and the semiarid south-west clustered separately. Mantel tests revealed a significant association between oil characteristics and genetic distance (r = 0.129, P = 0.02). There was considerable variation in the growing environment of S. spicatum. An Adonis test showed a significant association between oil composition and provenance (P = 0.001) and between oil composition and soil type (P = 0.002) but not oil composition and other environmental characters. Soil type was significantly related to santalol and E,E-farnesol content. No significant associations between oil composition and morphological features were identified.

Petroleum exploration activity in Western Australia over the past decade has been on the increase, boosted by the positive results of many new discoveries, mainly on the North West Shelf but also in frontier areas. Significant discoveries in 1999–2000 resulted from new exploration concepts including deep plays in the Barrow/Dampier Sub-basins, heavy oil plays in the Carnarvon Basin, a deep-water gas play west of Gorgon, large gas/condensate plays in the Browse Basin, and a new gas play in the southern Bonaparte Basin. Discovery itself is a great incentive to the industry to further exploration; however, concerns over oil price, the Australian dollar, markets, policies and perceived prospectivity impact on exploration spending. The short-term outlook for WA is good as a result of existing work commitments including an average of 50 exploration wells to be drilled each year for the next three years. Onshore, where exploration has been subdued, there are signs of increased activity. The Western Australian government is playing a key role in promoting the State through gazettals, promotional activities— conferences and publications, acquiring precompetitive data and making petroleum data more accessible. The government funded Petroleum Exploration Initiatives program is continuing and efforts are being made to facilitate exploration. Sustained high oil prices, improvements in technology and efforts to expedite access to land are just some of the factors which will assist companies in their endeavours. In the longer term, continued growth in Western Australia’s petroleum industry is projected.

Exploration activity in Australia in 2013 occurred across a broad spectrum of conventional and unconventional plays. Competition for acreage was buoyant with large tracts of key onshore basins either licensed or under application. Offshore, there were new awards on the western Australian margin and in the Bight Basin off SA. Offshore 3D seismic acquisition was reduced from anomalously high levels in 2012. Onshore 2D seismic acquisition was at historic highs and onshore 3D was the most ever recorded. Overall drilling levels were maintained despite a decline offshore. Of 13 offshore wells drilled, six were discoveries. Sixty-nine exploration wells (excluding CSG wells) were drilled onshore. Fifty addressed conventional, and 19 were unconventional shale or basin-centered gas targets. Sixty of the 69 wells were drilled in the Cooper/Eromanga Basin where conventional oil and gas exploration yielded 11 oil and six gas discoveries. Drilling and fraccing campaigns in the Nappamerri Trough unconventional gas plays provided early encouraging results. 213 exploration and appraisal CSG wells were drilled in the CSG basins of Queensland and NSW. In Queensland a record total of 1,317 CSG wells were drilled in fiscal year 2012/2013. Shale gas exploration activity was increasingly focused on the Palaeozoic and Proterozoic Basins of Western, Central and Northern Australia with major oil and gas companies involved in joint ventures preparing for drilling in 2014. The results of these programmes will have an important bearing on the future direction of exploration in these plays.

Australia remains in pole position to become the world’s leading exporter of liquefied natural gas (LNG) and the number one exporter in the future. Maintaining this trajectory will require the oil and gas industry in Australia to remain competitive in project delivery to continue to attract investments. Yet, the Australian project delivery environment poses a big threat to this trajectory. Several research studies, organisations and institutions have come up with a long list of generic factors contributing to project management success and failure. The aim of this study is to examine oil and gas projects in Australia with a view to ascertain their success or otherwise and the specific contributing factors. This study has used a qualitative method of research by examining secondary sources of information on four recent Western Australia LNG projects (Gorgon, Wheatstone, Prelude and Ichthys) and presenting them as case studies. Specifically, the research has used mostly online sources that are either independent reports or information sourced from company websites. The key findings suggest that major oil and gas projects in Australia fail, and that failure or success is determined by the ability of the project management team to deliver the project on budget and on schedule. This is exemplified by the projects examined in this study, which have all shown cost and schedule overruns. Six critical factors are observed as contributing to cost and schedule overrun: project location, high cost of executing projects in Australia versus overseas, skills shortages, overseas manufacturing, project complexity and cultural and environment issues. Innovation, collaboration and standardisation, as adopted from other regions, are the initial practices suggested for the Australian industry to overcome all six factors and encourage further investment.

The year 1995 witnessed the largest growth in world oil demand in recent history. This growth was driven principally by increased consumption in Asia. Despite this increased demand average oil prices rose only marginally due to both excess production capacity within OPEC and the expectation of the return of the Iraqis to the world oil market. Oil prices are unlikely to improve over the long term since the over-supply of crude is expected to persist well into the next century.In Australia there was an increased reliance on imported oil, as consumption rose in response to an expanding economy whilst domestic liquids production continued to decline. The contribution of the Australian upstream industry continued to shift towards Western Australia as production from the Carnarvon Basin rose, whilst Bass Strait declined. Gas production rose for the year although the LNG facilities on the Burrup Peninsula are now working at full capacity. Further growth in LNG sales will require facilities expansion and such plans were well advanced over the course of last year.The profitability of the upstream oil and gas sector continued to be poor, despite the positive signs within the West Australian market. This situation is unlikely to change in the short term as the over-supply of crude is expected to hold down oil prices. The long term viability of the E&P industry in Australia may well depend on further modification of the current fiscal regime.

Uniquely positioned globally, logistically and financially, resource rich, Western Australia is poised to lead the establishment of liquefied natural gas (LNG) as a marine fuel in the Asia Pacific region. Maritime trade is vital to the global economy, but is a major source of atmospheric pollution. This paper considers how tightening restrictions on marine exhaust emissions will affect vessel owners and the shipping trade, and why LNG offers a clean, safe and economically viable option to meet the new restrictions. Western Australia’s bulk iron ore export trade to Asia offers sufficient critical mass to underpin the creation of this new LNG bunkering industry. A design has already been completed for a new bulk ore carrier capable of running on both conventional heavy fuel oil and LNG and meeting the new emissions requirements. The LNG Marine Fuel Institute has analysed the demand and supply side business cases required to get this industry started. On the demand side, its modelling concludes that LNG-powered vessels can be economically viable if bunkering LNG is priced in the range of US$7 to $10/mmBtu. On the supply side, this price is achievable from an initial commercial scale 0.5 mtpa LNG bunkering facility if the natural gas feedstock can be priced in the range of AU$5 to $7/GJ (excluding pipeline charges). Such a plant would require ~75 TJ/d of natural gas feedstock. Western Australia’s domestic gas market is well positioned to meet this demand in terms of both price and volume. The benefits of this new industry would extend to Australian bulk exporters, gas suppliers, ship owners and operators, infrastructure owners and Australian governments.

Australia’s lack of gas supply infrastructure and market opportunities means that in the northwest of our nation more than 100 trillion cubic feet of gas remains uncommitted to customer contracts.Because of Western Australia’s relatively small domestic gas markets and the long transport distances to larger markets, the belief has been that only the LNG industry has the scale to monetise the large volumes of gas required to underpin greenfield developments and expansion of gas supply infrastructure.Changing fuel specifications around the world, combined with the limited opportunities for new LNG contracts, has renewed interest in gas-to-liquids (GTL) technology as an alternative to crude oil refining for a source of clean and efficient transport fuels. GTL is an exciting new market opportunity for Australian gas.Exploration interest in Australia appears to be waning. Declining opportunities for oil discoveries and the lack of markets for natural gas make investments in Australia’s upstream sector unattractive compared to other locations around the world.In addition, Australia has dwindling crude oil supplies and faces the prospect of increasing reliance on imported crude oil and refined products. An Australian GTL Clean Diesel industry can help overcome these hurdles by creating a designer blendstock and a valuable new GTL Clean Diesel export industry.A GTL Clean Diesel industry would not only help resolve many of Australia’s current upstream and downstream problems in the petroleum industry, but would also provide massive economic benefits to Australia.This paper will look not only at the making but also the marketing of this fuel of the future.

Through 2016, there has been increasing interest in the rules and regulations that apply to decommission facilities in Australia’s offshore waters. APPEA is developing guidelines as is the State of Western Australia. The Department of Industry Innovation and Research is preparing a discussion paper on Australia’s decommissioning laws, regulation and practice. It is expected to issue by the end of 2016. These developments are long overdue. Australia’s laws regarding these activities have barely changed since the offshore legislation was enacted in 1967. How major facilities are decommissioned in Australia will be a matter of interest to numerous stakeholders. It seems likely that decisions taken in the next two years will result in a modernisation of Australia’s law and practice and will determine how the major offshore facilities will be decommissioned over the next 30 years. The paper canvasses the reform process, considers the more modern regimes overseas and whether they have achieved their objectives, looks at regional (Asia–Pacific) practice and informs delegates as to the path forward on any legislative reform. The position of the States and the Commonwealth are contrasted.

The Portable Remotely Operated Drill (PROD), is a new generation drill capable of obtaining 100+ m of B sized rock/sediment core in water depths down to 2,000 m. Robotically driven from a mother-ship, PROD weighs 10 tonnes in air and six tonnes in water. It provides substantial operational flexibility in coring/sampling while at the same time providing precision positioning and sampling performance independent of surface water conditions. PROD is designed specifically to travel easily with predicted major use in the oil industry, telecommunications and the global research industries. Successful testing of PROD in shallow water has occurred off Eastern and Western Australia during 1999. Deep water trials off the western coast of the USA will be completed in March 2000. When operational, PROD will be a catalyst for a new phase of ocean exploration, from which Australia must surely benefit.

Abstract On June 9th, 2015, ACME Oil Company’s rig suffered a dynamic positioned ‘run-off’. The mobile drilling unit lost its station above the wellhead and a loss of well control was experienced. “A massive environmental emergency unfolded…affecting pristine coastline and masses of wildlife”. Incident Management and Field Response Teams were activated in a multi-agency operation, bringing together 200 personnel from 16 oil and gas companies and 18 government agencies and third party providers. Source control, aerial, offshore, nearshore, shoreline and oiled wildlife response capabilities were deployed and national/international support was utilised. Jointly managed by the Australian Marine Oil Spill Centre (AMOSC), the Australian Maritime Safety Authority (AMSA), the Federal Department of Industry and Science, and the Western Australian Department of Transport -Exercise Westwind was a successful multi-faceted marine spill response, demonstrating Australia’s collective Industry/Government capacity to respond to a large, offshore loss of well control incident in a remote and isolated location. ACME Oil Company was a fictitious company formed to enable the amalgamation of Australian petroleum companies to exercise industry arrangements under one ‘banner’ during the exercise period. ACME Oil Company had its own set of credentials, company website and Oil Pollution Emergency Plan. The company also held real time memberships with a number of service providers including AMOSC, Oil Spill Response Ltd, Trendsetter Engineering International, Oceaneering Australia and addenergy. Representing an innovative approach to spill response exercising, ACME Oil Company was a valuable and critical aspect to industry and governments participation under a non-attributable banner. Additionally, it enabled safe, widespread lessons to be observed, allowed for real-time testing of arrangements and provided a safe environment for regulators, stakeholder and industry interplay. The exercise was an efficient and practical solution for Industry titleholders and their third party supporting organisations, to test shared response resources and to ensure Industry arrangements for responding to oil pollution are in accordance with the Offshore Petroleum and Greenhouse Gas Storage (Environment) Regulations 2009. This paper will discuss the development program behind the exercise and the experience of managing an exercise of this nature. It will highlight the successes including the creation and implementation of a fictitious company and the extensive collaboration between the industry and government personnel involved. It will also look forward – where are we 11-months later? Can the history of exercising and/or response help us improve for the future-implementation of change and continued testing is critical in furthering our oil spill response capability and capacity.Exercise Westwind – Operational Phase TwoExercise Westwind – Operational Phase Two

On 12 May 1988 amendments to the Queensland Petroleum Act of 1923 came into force. These empower the Governor- in- Council to appoint a Pipelines Tribunal to inquire into the operations of any existing or proposed pipeline. The Act now affirms the existence of the Secretary of Mines as a Corporation which can undertake all the aspects of an oil company from exploration to distribution of refined products. In particular, this corporation now has the sole right to construct and operate any pipeline in Queensland which extends beyond the boundaries of a lease. There was little or no dialogue with industry prior to the proclamation of these amendments.In comparison with the Petroleum Acts of South Australia, Western Australia and the Northern Territory, the Queensland Petroleum Act contains many areas subject to ministerial discretion or which are no longer relevant to present- day administrative practices. The Queensland Government's proposal to issue a green paper discussing amendments to the Act, based on submissions from interested parties, is welcomed since it is in the interests of management of the exploratory oil industry to strive for uniformity of administration in each state.

Light Detection and Ranging (LiDAR), a comparatively new technology in the field of underwater surveying, has principally been used for taking precise measurement of undersea structures in the oil and gas industry. Typically, the LiDAR is deployed on a remotely operated vehicle (ROV), which will “land” on the seafloor in order to generate a 3D point cloud of its environment from a stationary position. To explore the potential of subsea LiDAR on a moving platform in an environmental context, we deployed an underwater LiDAR system simultaneously with a multibeam echosounder (MBES), surveying Kingston Reef off the coast of Rottnest Island, Western Australia. This paper compares and summarises the relative accuracy and characteristics of underwater LiDAR and multibeam sonar and investigates synergies between sonar and LiDAR technology for the purpose of benthic habitat mapping and underwater simultaneous localisation and mapping (SLAM) for Autonomous Underwater Vehicles (AUVs). We found that LiDAR reflectivity and multibeam backscatter are complementary technologies for habitat mapping, which can combine to discriminate between habitats that could not be mapped with either one alone. For robot navigation, SLAM can be effectively applied with either technology, however, when a Global Navigation Satellite System (GNSS) is available, SLAM does not significantly improve the self-consistency of multibeam data, but it does for LiDAR.

Oil and gas industry safety performance in Australia compares well with other industries. Performance of the Australian Oil and Gas Industry, however, as reported by APPEA, lags behind the average performance of the international industry, as reported by the International Association of Oil and Gas Producers (OGP). The improving trend in health and safety performance in Australia over the last ten years is continuing, but progress is slowing. This slow-down suggests that if we continue to work in the same manner as we have done in the past, we will not create the shift in performance required to match or better the international industry average. The current structure of the industry has a number of different operating companies supported by a broad base of contractors. In 2009, contractor exposure hours accounted for 88% of the total hours worked by Woodside. Each operator and contractor has their own approach to health and safety management. The industry backdrop is an increase in activity driven by coal seam gas (CSG) exploitation, a number of LNG megaprojects in development in Western Australia, a significant proportion of senior personnel retiring from the industry, and a significant influx of people new to the industry to support expansion and replace retirees. This will increase demands on existing, already stretched, industry resources and could reduce our ability to develop new approaches and effectively implement them. One of the actions taken to address this at Woodside has been to engage over 100 senior leaders in our company and the CEOs of all of our major contractors to build a commitment to change the basis upon which operator and contractor work together on health and safety issues. This has involved establishing industry sector focus groups for: drilling; exploration and geomatics; onshore project construction; offshore project construction; and, production. Each group is comprised of Woodside and contractor leadership. Given the success of these groups in formulating and driving their own agendas for improvement, and given the strong (and quite pleasing) contractor desire for ownership, Woodside sponsorship will cease at the end of 2010. The approach aims to create sustainable, self governed health and safety focus groups to develop industry solutions to our industry’s health and safety challenges. The groups operate on the premise that excellence in health and safety performance is of mutual benefit and is non-competitive.

The Australian Government’s 2018 offshore petroleum exploration acreage release was announced by the Commonwealth Minister for Resources and Northern Australia, Senator the Hon Matthew Canavan at the 2018 APPEA conference. This paper provides insights into the processes that the Australian Government has undertaken to select the final release areas and goes into detail on the ongoing petroleum related activities of the Department of Industry, Innovation and Science (the Department). The annual acreage release is a central component of ensuring ongoing, sustainable and responsible investment in Australia’s offshore petroleum sector. The annual acreage release remains the primary mechanism for securing investment in offshore oil and gas exploration in areas of known petroleum potential and new geological frontiers. Continued exploration for oil and gas in Commonwealth waters is a central component of ensuring Australia’s future energy security. Australia’s well established and independent environmental regulator, NOPSEMA (the National Offshore Petroleum Safety and Environmental Management Authority), ensures all petroleum activities in Commonwealth waters are performed safely and in an environmentally responsible manner. Combined with NOPTA’s (National Offshore Petroleum Titles Administrator) leading practice titles administration, Australia remains an attractive investment destination while offering industry leading environmental protections and ensuring safe working conditions industry-wide. Australia offers investors access to data, secure tenure, a stable economic environment and a well-established transparent regulatory system for offshore petroleum activities. A key driver for sustainable activity in Australia is the acceptance of multiple use access to Australia’s marine resources. Recognising this, the department consults with a range of stakeholders on the areas it proposes to release for petroleum exploration. This consultation process provides an opportunity for all interested parties to provide comments and feedback on the areas proposed and in particular highlight how interested parties or the areas might be impacted by exploration activities. The 21 areas in the 2018 offshore petroleum exploration acreage release are located in the offshore areas of Western Australia, South Australia, Victoria and the Ashmore-Cartier Islands. These areas will enable the next wave of investment in the Australian resources sector, and the prospect of new oil, gas and condensate production.

ABSTRACT In the early hours of Sunday, July 21, 1991, the laden tanker Kirki was approaching the Australian coast in heavy weather when the bow section broke away from the main structure and sank. The vessel was on passage from the Middle East to Australia loaded with light crude oil. Fire was seen to break out forward, and the master transmitted a Mayday signal, which resulted in a successful rescue by the Australian authorities. At the time of the incident, the vessel was some 55 miles off the coast of Western Australia. The initial loss of oil and the threat of severe pollution of the coastline required the activation of the Australian National Plan to Combat Pollution of the Sea by Oil and its associated state and oil industry plans. This paper details the actions taken, addresses the lessons learned by the authorities and agencies involved, and lists the recommendations arising out of the actions taken to respond to the pollution aspects of the incident. It does not deal in detail with the distress and rescue details, but touches only on those areas that provide background to the subsequent pollution response.

The Australian Government's decision to deregulate indigenous crude oil marketing from 1 January 1988 brings to an end the period of the Government's involvement in this area of the petroleum industry. The determination of price, the development and monitoring of administrative procedures to ensure equitable allocation of indigenous crude, and the resolution of differing views between producers, refiners and marketers were all areas where Government was actively involved. While the extent of future involvement is uncertain, the policy changes put a different dimension on exploration and production efforts for all companies and on their relationship with the marketplace, both locally and overseas.The move to deregulation widens the available options for all parties - producers, refiner/ marketers and international traders. WTiile these options exist, the most probable situation in 1988 is not expected to be greatly different from that which has existed in the last couple of years. No refineries will be shut down; product imports will increase slightly but not significantly enough to affect total demand on Australian refineries. A reduced level of indigenous crude should be run to enable greater flexibility in crude/feedstock selection for optimising refinery profitability. However, at least 75 per cent of indigenous production should be continued to be absorbed within Australia with the bulk of the exports being made from Gippsland and Jabiru areas.The change in emphasis towards product excise has ensured that the Australian Government has the mechanism to sustain revenue, essentially independent of the prices obtained for indigenous crude. As such, the Government's involvement in crude oil marketing, if at all, will be significantly reduced.Factors affecting negotiations between producers and other interested parties have been explored. It is considered that, although it is highly unlikely that firm markets will have been established by early 1988, a workable set of arrangements will have been developed to ensure that crude oil production is moved. As many uncertainties will exist on the validity of these arrangements for the long term, there will be a tendency towards spot or short-term sales agreements so that the options are left open. The key pricing points are seen to be the value BP Australia is prepared to pay for Western Australia and Queensland production, at Kwinana and Brisbane respectively, and the prices being obtained by Esso/BHP for Gippsland crude in the export market.

This paper provides a brief update on some of the key environmental issues that arose during 2009. In Queensland, activity is dominated by coal seam gas projects and specifically coal seam gas (CSG) to liquefied natural gas (LNG) projects. Environmental milestones for these projects are discussed, and the State Government’s response policy and regulation development response is reviewed. The progress of the more conventional LNG projects in Western Australia and the Northern Territory is also discussed. The final report on the mandated ten year review of the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999 was released in December 2009. Seventy-one recommendations were made, and some key recommendations related to our industry are discussed here. Climate change has again dominated the media, with the United Nations Climate Change Conference held in Copenhagen in December 2009. In Queensland, the Government released a paper that presented a range of strategies and policies, building on a number of existing schemes and introducing new measures. Gas is identified as a key transitional fuel while low emission coal technology and emerging renewable energy sources are being developed. Greenhouse gas legislation is continuing to be developed across several states, but subordinate legislation is yet to be finalised. In Victoria, submissions on the Greenhouse Gas Geological Sequestration Regulations closed in October 2009, and the Greenhouse Gas Geological Sequestration Act 2008 came into effect on 1 December 2009. In March 2009, ten offshore acreage releases were made under the Commonwealth legislation; however, the closing date for submissions is dependent upon the development of the regulations. South Australia passed an Act amending the Petroleum and Geothermal Act 2000 on 1 October 2009 to allow geosequestration. A number of reviews of the regulatory framework or the administrative systems associated with the upstream oil and gas sector have been completed in the last decade. All these reviews make similar findings and recommendations, and most recently the Jones Report, tabled in Western Australian Parliament on 12 August 2009, found that most key recommendations from previous reports and reviews had not been addressed or properly implemented. There seems to be little point in undertaking regulatory and system reviews that consistently make similar findings, if these findings are never addressed. The hurdles to implementation of key recommendations need to be identified, so that progress can be made in improving the approvals processes for the industry, and improving the environmental outcomes.

Has the industry seen the light on project delivery? Numerous signs of improved execution through the downturn in Australia and across the globe suggest oil and gas companies are finally getting it right after a lengthy period of dismal performance. Even before prices went to US$100 per barrel and beyond, the oil and gas industry had a poor track record of delivering major projects. However, higher prices exacerbated the situation, encouraging poor capital discipline and overconfidence in undertaking large-scale, highly complex projects that overstretched the supply chain. The results were delays, cost overruns and billions of dollars in value destroyed. Over the past decade the average project was delivered 6 months late, with costs up 14% compared with the forecast at final investment decision. The top 15 cost blowouts were a cumulative US$80 billion over budget. Much of that was in Australia. But lessons have been learned. Without the safety net of higher prices, the successful execution of capital projects has become of crucial importance to the industry. There is now evidence of post-downturn projects being delivered on time and on budget; in Australasia, recent examples include Greater Western Flank Phase 2 and the Bayu-Undan infill drilling campaign. But do these successes mean execution has really improved? It can be argued these are relatively simple brownfield, subsea developments. When we enter the next investment cycle with bigger projects (Scarborough, Browse and Barossa), will we see the same old mistakes repeated again?

The oil and gas industry in Western Australia will need to address their carbon emissions in response to the state government’s aspiration of net zero greenhouse gas emissions by 2050. The geological storage of carbon dioxide is a proven technology and an option for reducing emissions. Storage operations would need to provide adequate monitoring systems in compliance with yet to be defined regulations and to assure the public that potential leakage could be confidently detected, managed and remediated. The In-Situ Laboratory in the south-west of Western Australia was established as a research field site to support low emissions technology development and provides a unique field site for controlled CO2 release experiments in a fault zone and testing of monitoring technologies between 400 m depth and the ground surface. A first test injection of 38 tonnes of food-grade gaseous CO2 in 2019 demonstrated the ability to detect less than 10 tonnes of CO2 with fibre optic sensing and borehole seismic testing. Results from the previous test and future experiments will help to improve the sensitivity of monitoring technologies and could contribute to defining adequate monitoring requirements for carbon storage regulations.

Naturally Occurring Radioactive Materials (NORMs) in the offshore petroleum industry are generally associated with the formation of scale in pipes and vessels. As scale and sludge contain radioactive isotopes of radium they are in the category of Low Specific Activity (LSA) NORMs. Handling of NORMs creates issues involving occupational health and safety, environmental protection and radioactive waste management and waste disposal. Barium(Radium)Sulfate scale is highly insoluble and can create serious production problems by clogging pipes and valves.The paper discusses the external gamma radiation monitoring at the external surfaces of well and oil production pipes which assists in establishing the scale thickness patterns in pipes and in identifying the optimum location of a scale inhibitor injection point.To minimise radiation doses received by workers special NORM handling Work Procedures and Instructions supported by radiation protection training need to be developed. If facility personnel are trained in radiation protection and Work Procedures and Instructions are adopted it is possible to effectively manage personal radiation exposures below the public limit of 1 millisievert per year. Under such conditions no personal radiation monitoring during routine operations is required and the assessment of routine annual external radiation doses may be carried out through yearly external gamma radiation surveys of of fshore petroleum production facilities.The NORM waste cannot be disposed of onshore within the same disposal sites used for general non-radioactive waste. In Australia only the NORM waste generated in Western Australia can be disposed of onshore in an official low level radioactive waste disposal facility. It is important that Governments of other States and Territories address the onshore NORM waste disposal option. Regulations should also address a screening method for scrap metal contaminated by NORMs to be released for smelting.

Australia’s marine economy is worth over $70 billion a year, of which offshore oil and gas is a big contributor. Operating safely and in an environmentally sustainable way is vital to the long-term success of Australia’s offshore petroleum sector. Making good risk management decisions depends on a sound understanding of the complex marine environments in which they operate. Key emerging challenges include the effects of noise on marine life, decommissioning of offshore infrastructure, and the unprecedented rate of change in natural marine systems. The Australian Institute of Marine Science (AIMS) undertakes research that helps industry, regulators, government and the wider community to make informed decisions about the management of Australia’s marine estate. Working closely with industry and government partners, AIMS has established some of the world’s longest running and most comprehensive tropical marine monitoring programs. The regional baseline datasets span the subtropics of Western Australia, the North West and North Marine Regions, through to the Great Barrier Reef and the Coral Sea Marine Region. This unique repository of data and environmental intelligence allows quantification of system changes, modelling of anticipated future trends and impacts of development, and the development and testing of risk mitigation measures. Examples of research specifically tailored to meet the needs of the offshore oil and gas industry include recent projects in noise management, eco-toxicity and machine learning/automation. In each case, AIMS and its science partners worked with industry to develop research programs designed to help manage specific risks, or conduct work more efficiently and safely.

Focusing on Australian projects, this paper provides a summary of the key environmental challenges and developments that arose in 2010 and the industry’s response. The paper considers: developments in legislation and the regulatory environment relating to environmental approvals and management; major project approvals and their environmental requirements and implications; key environmental incidents; and reviews new environmental research and management initiatives that were introduced by the industry. A number of states have introduced changes to the way legislation and regulations are interpreted through changes to guidelines and administrative procedures. There has been a general increase in the standard and level of information that regulators expect proponents to provide and while generally these expectations are documented in guidelines and other documents, in some instances there has been a perceived ‘moving of the goal posts’ without clear guidance on what is expected and how the information will be considered once provided. There has been a number of major projects either commencing or gaining environmental approval in 2010. This includes major projects: in Western Australia, on the North West Shelf and in the Timor Sea/Browse Basin; onshore in Queensland in the coal-seam gas fields and continued exploration and development both onshore and offshore around Australia. One of the most significant approvals in 2010 was the Prelude LNG Project–the first approval in Australia of floating LNG technology. Major environmental incidents in 2009 (Montara in Australia and Macondo in the USA) continued to have repercussions in 2010 with the draft government response to the Report of the Montara Commission of Inquiry released in November. These incidents have put the oil and gas industry under the spotlight and this paper looks at some of the statistics on the frequency and severity of environmental incidents, albeit at a high level. Finally, the industry has continued to implement a number of environmentally related initiatives both in response to government policy and suggestion and independently through groups such as the APPEA environment committee.

Barrow Island, off the north-west coast of Western Australia, was declared a Class 'A' Nature Reserve for the protection of flora and fauna in 1908. Since 1963, West Australian Petroleum Pty Limited (WAPET) has conducted oil exploration and production operations on the island, producing over 235 million barrels of oil. The fact that the introduction of exotic plants and animals has been prevented and the island's full suite of native species remains intact is due to a rigorous environmental program. In developing and refining that management program over the past 25 years, WAPET has pioneered environmental management and rehabilitation techniques. In 1988-89, WAPET carried out a comprehensive review and audit of its management procedures to satisfy itself that its operations continued to meet the high environmental standards expected of our industry. The review critically examined the impacts of operational procedures including seismic exploration, gravel extraction, quarantine, rehabilitation and workforce education to determine the effect of the operations on the conservation values of Barrow Island. The Barrow Island operation demonstrates that with proper management and planning, development and conservation are not incompatible.

It is predicted that by 2020 the Northern Territory’s Aboriginal population will rise from 33% to 50% of the total population base. Parallel to this, business and government agencies will need to source thousands of new employees in anticipation of northern Australia’s economic growth forecast. In a wider context, if we struck an arc from Geraldton in Western Australia to Gladstone in Queensland, we know the resources sector is investing billions of dollars in new projects. In this same area of Australia we find thousands of Indigenous candidates seeking employment opportunities who are both willing and capable of operating and maintaining the assets. This paper will outline how Universal Engineering—a small fabrication and engineering contractor in the oil and gas industry—has approached its skill shortage problems. By encouraging non-traditional recruitment and retention strategies, various solutions and achievements are highlighted, showing how Universal Engineering has succeeded with recruiting, training and retaining Indigenous apprentices as part of its overall employment growth strategy. By engaging Indigenous employees over the past 10 years, Universal Engineering has refined its Indigenous training strategies and would like to share its knowledge with other employers in the oil and gas sectors. Our key success factors include the development of human resources systems, ensuring that parents—Mum, Auntie or Grandma—are willing to mentor their children through the initial training and employment phases and by adopting school based apprenticeships (taking place in years 11 and 12). These greatly assist with literacy and numeracy improvements and help the transition into the workplace. In the longer term, Universal is establishing role models and strong career planning to let our employees know they have stability and a future in the company, and indeed in the industry as a whole.

Due to increasing demand for energy around the world, the prevalence of global megaprojects within the oil and gas industry is increasing. Process pipes, valves and vessels may be manufactured and coated in China or Korea, where labour costs are comparatively low, before being transported to the final project location, such as Western Australia. During the transport and fabrication phase, coated steelwork may spend months or even years exposed to harsh offshore or coastal environments before going into service. This means coatings must be able to provide protection throughout an extensive construction phase, in addition to the in-service lifetime of the steel. This paper examines the demands on high temperature performance coatings both before and once in service. Test methodology and exposure data are reviewed with a focus on how modern aluminium pigmented silicone coatings provide a solution to the corrosion challenges faced in global megaprojects.

The Schools Information Program (SIP), a joint venture of the Petroleum Club of Western Australia and APPEA, has operated as a successful model of the petroleum industry engaging with the Western Australian education community since 1991.Targetted at Year 10 students (15-year-olds) in mainly metropolitan Perth Government and private high schools, the SIP involves the delivery of a short-term (about six weeks) education program—in six parts. The program, together with its course materials and student assessment instruments, is designed to integrate with components of WA’s curriculum for Science, Social Science, Technology and Enterprise, and English. Operating in 22 Perth schools, the SIP framework is structured according to six core areas of the hydrocarbon industry sector:exploration;drilling;production;transportation;refining; andsustainable development.The program’s mode of delivery is largely via a series of classroom presentations by volunteer professionals drawn from the WA petroleum industry, together with field trips to relevant sites near Perth. The SIP is managed by a part-time co-ordinator (0.6) and the entire program is overseen by a ‘steering committee’, drawn from APPEA, the Board of Governors of the Petroleum Club of WA, along with some of the industry presenters.Individual companies in the industry are involved at a number of levels: co-ordinating presenters; preparing presentation materials; providing on-going support for students during the program; providing prizes as an incentive to the students; and also providing cash donations to assist with the costs of the Co-ordinator. The course materials consist of standard slide presentations (available in both electronic or OHP format), and are complemented by written worksheets, and a website integrated with the Petroleum Club of WA’s site. During the program, the students, working in groups, compete for substantial industry-related prizes, by completing a research project related to the SIP course content. A separate Board of Review assesses projects formally according to a set of established criteria.That the SIP is a success is confirmed quantitatively using formal ongoing program evaluation by the students, their teachers, and the industry presenters, and is evidenced by the number of schools seeking the limited places in the program. Other education initiatives (e.g. Speaking of Oil and Gas, and The Introduction to the Petroleum Industry seminars) are also discussed in this paper as they have links to the SIP.

Can development of a finite resource, such as oil, be consistent with sustainable development? Sustainable development involves meeting the needs of current and future generations through simultaneous consideration of environmental, social and economic aspects (referred to as the triple bottom line).Since 1998, Woodside Energy Ltd (Woodside) has discovered three oil fields in the WA-271-P Permit area offshore North West Cape, northern Western Australia. The fields are some 20 km from the boundary of the Ningaloo Marine Park.The first part of this paper presents a case study of the Enfield Area Development. It describes the approach taken to simultaneously manage environmental, social and economic considerations while planning for the development of oil fields in exploration permit WA-271-P.A range of measures have been employed that are considered examples of best practice for the petroleum industry in Australia, including:early commitment to a range of responsible environmental management measures in design; a comprehensive community engagement program, with links to the development and environmental assessment processes; and pioneering environmental research.Novel methods of establishing environmental and social issues as key priorities within the Woodside development team have been successfully implemented.The case study provides by giving an overview of the most significant environmental risks associated with the proposed development, and concludes that the development does not represent a significant risk to the environment.The second part of the paper then addresses the question of whether oilfields can be developed sustainably, looking at current views from the literature, and whether the approach outlined in the case study can be considered sustainable.While the project is still in an early stage of development, it provides a strong indication that oil development can be consistent with current thinking on sustainability, provided that current needs, which include a dependence on fossil fuels, and future needs, such as preservation of the productive and social value of the environmental resource base, are balanced simultaneously. The paper concludes that oil development, even in an environmentally and socially sensitive area, can help facilitate the transition to a more sustainable future.

Local communities can challenge the successful development of onshore oil and gas operations; for this reason, it is important to develop meaningful relationships with communities, where possible. As oil and gas companies establish more onshore operations it is necessary to find ways to build and sustain effective community relations. Rio Tinto-Alcan (RTA) Weipa and Energy Resources Australia (ERA) are two significant resources operations in Australia that operate in sensitive remote environments. Positive, enduring and collaborative community relations are essential for the success of both operations. A partnership between each company and the schools within their respective local operating environment has created positive student outcomes and increased workforce stability, resulting in overall success for education and industry in the region. This paper describes the long-term community partnership strategy that has been implemented to achieve mutually beneficial arrangements. It identifies how this experience can be used as a model to guide the oil and gas industry to establish sustained community relationships with its onshore operations, including CSG activities, in the future. RTA and ERA have worked with Nous to create partnerships between the operations and their respective local schools. RTA and Western Cape College have partnered since 2005, and ERA has partnered with West Arnhem College since 2009. The starting point was identification of the school education and workforce needs of each partner, then aligning them through a partnership based around achieving mutual goals. Nous found RTA and ERA’s needs were to: attract and retain staff;recruit local staff;improve Indigenous education and employment; and,support communities for a bright future and healthy young people. The schools needed to ensure: graduates have life choices and the capability to make decisions themselves;post-school pathways exist for students;students have diversified learning opportunities (both in the classroom and on the job); and,strong Indigenous communities are maintained, supported by leaders and young people. Quality local school education is important to achieve these goals. The partnerships have established a broad program of activities to encourage young people to complete their schooling and forge pathways post-school. The development and maintenance of collaborative arrangements requires planning, action, leadership, coordination, and sustained commitment to achieve successful outcomes. This paper describes the approach, program initiatives and outcomes achieved, and how the approach can be adapted for onshore oil and gas operations.

The boom in Australian oil and gas development continued in 2013, with record overall investment of $60 billion. This investment resulted from spending on the seven LNG projects under development, together with that on numerous other oil and gas developments. These projects are expected to collectively contribute up to 665 million barrels of oil equivalent (MMboe) to Australia’s oil and gas production, which totaled 513.8 MMboe in 2013. LNG, presently Australia’s seventh largest export, is likely to soon rival the nation’s largest export, iron ore. By the end of 2013, three of the LNG projects under construction—Gorgon, Queensland Curtis LNG (QCLNG) and Gladstone LNG (GLNG)—were more than 70% complete; first LNG will be before the end of 2014 for QCLNG and in 2015 for Gorgon, GLNG and Australia Pacific LNG (APLNG). The other three LNG projects—Wheatstone, Prelude and Ichthys—are close behind. These new LNG projects follow Pluto, Australia’s third LNG project, which commenced production in 2012. A full year of production from Pluto drove increased gas production in 2013. Woodside also completed the North Rankin redevelopment and continued development of the Greater Western Flank, both of which will extend the life of the North West Shelf (NWS) project. A number of other projects also commenced production. In the Carnarvon Basin, oil production began at Santos’s Fletcher-Finucane Field, and at BHP Billiton’s Macedon project, domestic gas production started. In the Timor Sea, PTTEP’s Montara Field began production of oil. In Victoria, the ExxonMobil Kipper-Turrum-Tuna project came online, with the production of gas from Tuna and oil from Turrum. Production of gas from Origin Energy’s Geographe Field (as part of the Otway Gas Project) commenced in mid-2013. Onshore oil production grew in 2013, with the Cooper-Eromanga Basin now producing more oil than any other onshore Australian basin. A major effort is underway to increase production from the western flank oil trend and to develop both the conventional and unconventional gas fields in the Cooper Basin. Spending on the development of new projects probably peaked in 2013 and there is growing concern about a dearth of future projects, with expansion of existing LNG projects and development of new projects being pushed back due to a combination of increased costs and growing international competition. There are also ongoing industry concerns about impediments to onshore gas exploration and development generally.

Hadson Carnarvon Pty Ltd (Hadson), on behalf of the Joint Venture Partners, operates permits EP342 and TP/9 located at the northern end of Exmouth gulf, to the east of Cape Range peninsula, Western Australia. The Exmouth region is known for the Ningaloo Reef, and for its diving and recreational fishing. The area also supports a large commercial prawn fishery. Many marine areas in the Exmouth region are regarded as being environmentally sensitive with several areas of conservation value.The partners were committed to drilling two wells in EP342 and TP/9 in 1993 as part of the obligations under the permits. Public mistrust of, and an unfamiliarity with, the oil and gas industry gave the Exmouth community the perception that the EP342 drilling program would have a detrimental impact on the sensitive marine resources of the region and, hence, to the growing tourism industry in the region.Hadson developed a management strategy which involved an extensive local community education and consultation program. Activities for this program included presentations to various community and special interest groups and a two-day public exhibition in Exmouth. The management strategy also included commitment to statutory and voluntary environmental guidelines, and an impact assessment study.Hadson's communication program was successful on a local level: by the time drilling commenced, active opposition to the drilling program had diminished significantly. This drilling program showed the importance of involving the public in the plans of the company, of putting a 'face' to the company and of communicating environmental risk in a trustworthy manner.The State Government announced in July 1994 that petroleum exploration within Ningaloo Marine Park would not be permitted. This decision was not based on scientific evidence, but political strategy and a perception that in the Exmouth and wider community there was an innate 'fear' regarding the impact of the petroleum industry.

Losses in seed yield and quality caused by infection with Beet western yellows virus (BWYV) alone or in combination with direct feeding damage by Myzus persicae (green peach aphid) were quantified in field experiments with Brassica napus (canola, oilseed rape) in the ‘grainbelt’ region of south-western Australia. Plants infected with BWYV and infested with M. persicae were introduced into plots early to provide infection sources and spread BWYV to B. napus plants. Insecticides were applied as seed dressings and/or foliar applications to generate a wide range of BWYV incidences in plots. Colonisation by vector aphids and spread of BWYV infection were recorded in the plots of the different treatments. At sites A (Medina) and B (Badgingarra) in 2001, foliar insecticide applications were applied differentially at first, but, later, ‘blanket’ insecticide sprays were applied to all plots to exclude any direct feeding damage by aphids. When BWYV infection at sites A and B reached 96% and 100% of plants, it decreased seed yield by up to 46% and 37%, respectively. Also, variation in BWYV incidence explained 95% (site A) and 96% (site B) of the variation in yield gaps, where for each 1% increase in virus incidence there was a yield decrease of 12 (site A) and 6 (site B) kg/ha. At both sites, this yield decline was entirely because fewer seeds formed on infected plants. At site B, BWYV infection significantly diminished oil content of seeds (up to 3%), but significantly increased individual seed weight (up to 11%) and erucic acid content (up to 44%); significant increases in seed protein content (up to 6–11%) were recorded at both sites. In field experiments at sites B and C (Avondale) in 2002, insecticides were applied as seed dressings or foliar sprays. At site B, when BWYV incidence reached 98%, the overall yield loss caused by BWYV and direct M. persicae feeding damage combined was 50%. At site C, when BWYV incidence reached 97%, the overall combined yield decline caused by BWYV and direct feeding damage was 46%. This research under Australian conditions shows that, when aphids spread it to B. napus plantings such that many plants become infected at an early growth stage, BWYV has substantial yield-limiting potential in B. napus crops. Although the results represent a worst case scenario, the losses were greater than those reported previously in Europe and are cause for concern for the Australian B. napus industry. When applied at 525 g a.i./100 kg of seed, imidacloprid seed dressing controlled insecticide-resistant M. persicae and effectively suppressed spread of BWYV for 2.5 months and increased seed yield by 84% at site B and 88% at site C. Therefore, provided that mixing the insecticide with seed is sufficiently thorough, dressing seed with imidacloprid before sowing provides good prospects for control of BWYV and M. persicae in B. napus crops.

Crambe abyssinicia Hochst. is grown sporadically worldwide for its value as a source of high erucic acid industrial oils and secondary commercial products. While there is increasing interest in cropping C. abyssinicia in Australia, for these potentials and also as a source of oil for biodiesel production, currently, there have been no commercial crops of this species. In September 2004, inspection of a small experimental field crop in Beverley, Western Australia indicated the presence of significant leaf spotting just prior to commencement of flowering. The symptoms of this disease included as many as 10 to 15 spot lesions per leaf that were generally rounded and varied between 0.5 to 11 mm in diameter. Clusters of these lesions were often associated with chlorosis of the region of leaves where they occurred. More than 95% of plants inspected showed these symptoms. When affected leaves were incubated in moist chambers, typical conidia of Alternaria brassicae (Berk.) Sacc. were observed. The description of these conidia matched that of the Commonwealth Mycological Institute for this pathogen (1) showing obclavate conidia 105 to 210 μm long and 20 to 30 μm thick, with 11 to 15 transverse septa and 0 to 3 longitudinal or oblique septa, predominantly with a pronounced beak 5 to 8 μm thick extending 0.3 to 0.5 μm of the length of the conidium. Single-spore isolations were made onto potato dextrose agar. Subcultures of these isolates were identified using a polymerase chain reaction (PCR)- based assay (2). This assay involved the use of two sets of A. brassicae-specific primers selected for conventional and real-time PCR. The colonies were confirmed to belong to A. brassicae. In a pathogenicity test to confirm Koch's postulates, single-spore isolates were inoculated onto cotyledons and leaves of 10-day-old C. abyssinicia seedlings. Symptoms on inoculated plants appeared within a period of 14 days of inoculation, matching those found on the affected plants in the field, and A brassicae was reisolated. A. brassicae causes an important worldwide disease of crucifers, for example, it can be a devastating disease of rapeseed and the other cruciferous crops in the United States and Canada. Since A. brassicae has already been reported on other species of crucifers Australia-wide, it may pose a threat to any potential Crambe spp. industry in this country. References: (1) M. B. Ellis No. 162 in: Descriptions of Pathogenic Fungi and Bacteria. CMI, Kew, England, 1966. (2) T. Guillemette et al. Plant Dis. 88:490, 2004.

In selecting papers for this feature, reviewer Stéphane Menand of Helmerich and Payne has identified a trio of papers that investigates new approaches toward familiar issues encountered when drilling complex well types. Whether considering the customization of drilling approaches in Middle Eastern carbonate reservoirs, implementing a collaborative work flow in tackling high-tortuosity wells offshore Western Australia, or researching the ability of a fibrous material to effect hole cleaning as opposed to polymeric sweeps, the authors of these papers understand that technical expertise may not be completely realized if it is not applied to problems in original ways. In carbonate reservoirs, the goal of drilling extended-reach wells is set against the geological makeup of such formations, the complexity of which adds significant uncertainty to geosteering and well placement. The authors of paper SPE 203335 develop a work flow that makes possible the customization of drilling scenarios through an emphasis on mechanical specific energy, as well as the use of an optimized borehole-assembly design. The work flow helped deliver what the authors write is the longest well in the Middle East offshore Abu Dhabi. In a similar vein, the authors of paper SPE 202251 describe a challenging scenario involving an ultraextended-reach well in a mature field offshore Western Australia. The project overcame shallow water depth and a high tortuosity requirement by implementing an integrated plan that used a reservoir-mapping-while-drilling service. The authors stress that this technology, coupled with active collaboration between specialists, town, and rig site, allowed the project to achieve the desired oil-column thickness with zero collision incidents. Highly deviated wells often face problems resulting from ineffective hole cleaning. Paper SPE 203147 studies the properties of a fibrous material when compared with the hole-cleaning performance of common polymeric pills. The authors write that the fibrous material proved effective, in part because of a unique characteristic in which a spiderweb-like network of fibers is created that does not allow cuttings to settle easily in complex wells. In addition, the material is environmentally friendly. All three papers approach well- established problems in the critical industry sector of extended-reach drilling with innovation and confidence. Enjoy the papers and be sure to search SPE’s OnePetro online library for more fresh approaches to the technical challenges posed by these well types. Recommended additional reading at OnePetro: www.onepetro.org. SPE 196410 - Analysis of Friction-Reduction System During Drilling Operation at a High-Inclination Well on Field X by Rizqiana Mudhoffar, Tanri Abeng University, et al. SPE 197257 - Successful Management of Collision Risk in an Extended-Reach Well by Manchukarn Naknaka, Mubadala Petroleum, et al. SPE 202730 - Challenges in Drilling and Completion of Extended-Reach-Drilling Wells With Landing Point Departure of More Than 10,000 ft in Light/Slim Casing Design by Nitheesh Kumar Unnikrishnan, Abu Dhabi National Oil Company, et al.

The Australian Government formally releases new offshore exploration areas at the annual APPEA conference. This year, 31 areas plus two special areas in five offshore basins are being released for work program bidding. Closing dates for bid submissions are either six or twelve months after the release date (i.e. 3 December 2009 and 29 April 2010), depending on the exploration status in these areas is and on data availability. The 2009 release areas are located in Commonwealth waters offshore Northern Territory, Western Australia, South Australia and Victoria, comprising intensively explored areas close to existing production as well as new frontiers. As usual, the North West Shelf features very prominently and is complimented by new areas along the southern margin, including frontier exploration areas in the Ceduna Sub-basin (Bight Basin) and the Otway Basin. The Bonaparte Basin is represented by one release area in the Malita Graben, while five areas are available in the Southern Browse Basin in an under-explored area of the basin. A total of 14 areas are being released in the Carnarvon Basin, with eight areas located in the Dampier Sub-basin, three small blocks in the Rankin Platform and three large blocks on the Northern Exmouth Plateau (these are considered a deep water frontier). In the south, six large areas are on offer in the Ceduna Sub-basin and five areas of varying sizes are being released in the Otway Basin, including a deep water frontier offshore Victoria. The special release areas are located in the Petrel Sub-basin, Bonaparte Basin offshore Northern Territory, and encompass the Turtle/Barnett oil discoveries. The 2009 offshore acreage release offers a wide variety of block sizes in shallow as well as deep water environments. Area selection has been undertaken in consultation with industry, the states and Territory. This year’s acreage release caters for the whole gamut of exploration companies given that many areas are close to existing infrastructure while others are located in frontier offshore regions. As part of Geoscience Australia’s Offshore Energy Security Program, new data has been acquired in offshore frontier regions and have yielded encouraging insights into the hydrocarbon prospectivity of the Ceduna-Sub-basin.

The composition and functional properties of cow’s milk are of considerable importance to the dairy farmer, manufacturer, and consumer. Broadly, there are 3 options for altering the composition and/or functional properties of milk: cow nutrition and management, cow genetics, and dairy manufacturing technologies. This review considers the effects of nutrition and management on the composition and production of milk fat and protein, and the relevance of these effects to the feeding systems used in the Australian dairy industry. Dairy cows on herbage-based diets derive fatty acids for milk fat synthesis from the diet/rumen microorganisms (400–450 g/kg), from adipose tissues (<100 g/kg), and from de novo synthesis in the mammary gland (about 500 g/kg). However, the relative contributions of these sources of fatty acids to milk fat production are highly dependent upon feed intake, diet composition, and stage of lactation. Feed intake, the amount of starch relative to fibre, the amount and composition of long chain fatty acids in the diet, and energy balance are particularly important. Significant differences in these factors exist between pasture-based dairy production systems and those based on total mixed ration, leading to differences in milk fat composition between the two. High intakes of starch are associated with higher levels of de novo synthesis of fat in the mammary gland, resulting in milk fat with a higher concentration of saturated fatty acids. In contrast, higher intakes of polyunsaturated fatty acids from pasture and/or lipid supplements result in higher concentrations of unsaturated fatty acids, particularly oleate, trans-vaccenate, and conjugated linoleic acid (CLA) in milk fat. A decline in milk fat concentration associated with increased feeding with starch-based concentrates can be attributed to changes in the ratios of lipogenic to glucogenic volatile fatty acids produced in the rumen. Milk fat depression, however, is likely the result of increased rates of production of long chain fatty acids containing a trans-10 double bond in the rumen, in particular trans-10 18 : 1 and trans-10-cis-12 18 : 2 in response to diets that contain a high concentration of polyunsaturated fatty acids and/or starch. Low rumen fluid pH can also be a factor. The concentration and composition of protein in milk are largely unresponsive to variation in nutrition and management. Exceptions to this are the effects of very low intakes of metabolisable energy (ME) and/or metabolisable protein (MP) on the concentration of total protein in milk, and the effects of feeding with supplements that contain organic Se on the concentration of Se, as selenoprotein, in milk. In general, the first limitation for the synthesis of milk protein in Australian dairy production systems is availability of ME since pasture usually provides an excess of MP. However, low concentrations of protein in milk produced in Queensland and Western Australia, associated with seasonal variations in the nutritional value of herbage, may be a response to low intakes of both ME and MP. Stage of lactation is important in determining milk protein concentration, but has little influence on protein composition. The exception to this is in very late lactation where stage of lactation and low ME intake can interact to reduce the casein fraction and increase the whey fraction in milk and, consequently, reduce the yield of cheese per unit of milk. Milk and dairy products could also provide significant amounts of Se, as selenoproteins, in human diets. Feeding organic Se supplements to dairy cows grazing pastures that are low in Se may also benefit cow health. Research into targetted feeding strategies that make use of feed supplements including oil seeds, vegetable and fish oils, and organic Se supplements would increase the management options available to dairy farmers for the production of milks that differ in their composition. Given appropriate market signals, milk could be produced with lower concentrations of fat or higher levels of unsaturated fats, including CLA, and/or high concentrations of selenoproteins. This has the potential to allow the farmer to find a higher value market for milk and improve the competitiveness of the dairy manufacturer by enabling better matching of the supply of dairy products to the demands of the market.

By the 12th century, coffee was extensively cultivated in Yemen, and qawha and cahveh, hot beverages made from roast and ground coffee beans, became popular in the Islamic world over the next 300 years. Commercial production of coffee outside Yemen started in Sri Lanka in the 1660s, Java in the 1700s, and Latin America in 1715, and this production has associations with histories of colonial expansion and slavery. Introduced to Europe in the 17th century, coffee was described by Robert Burton in the section of his 1628 Anatomy of Melancholy devoted to medicines as “an intoxicant, a euphoric, a social and physical stimulant, and a digestive aid” (quoted in Weinberg and Bealer xii). Today, more than 400 billion cups of coffee are consumed each year. Coffee is also an ingredient in a series of iconic dishes such as tiramisu and, with chocolate, makes up the classic mocha mix. Coffee production is widespread in tropical and sub-tropical countries and it is the second largest traded world commodity; second only to oil and petroleum. The World Bank estimates that more than 500 million people throughout the world depend on coffee for their livelihoods, and 25 million of these are coffee farmers. Unfortunately, these farmers typically live and work in substandard conditions and receive only a small percentage of the final price that their coffee is sold for. The majority of coffee farmers are women and they face additional challenges, frequently suffering from abuse, neglect, and poverty, and unable to gain economic, social, or political power in either their family’s coffee businesses or their communities. Some farm coffee under enslaved or indentured conditions, although Fair Trade regimes are offering some lessening of inequalities. At the opposite end of the scale, a small, but growing, number of high-end producers market gourmet sustainable coffee from small-scale, environmentally-aware farming operations. For many in the West today, however, coffee is not about the facts of its production; coffee is all about consumption, and is now interwoven into our contemporary cultural and social habits. Caffeine, found in the leaves, seeds, and fruit of the coffee tree, is an addictive psychoactive substance, but has overcome resistance and disapproval around the world and is now unregulated and freely available, without licence. Our gastronomic sophistication is reflected in which coffee, brewing method, and location of consumption is chosen; our fast-paced lifestyles in the range of coffee-to-go options we have; and our capitalist orientation in the business opportunities this popularity has offered to small entrepreneurs and multinational franchise chains alike. Cafés and the meeting, mingling, discussions, and relaxing that occur there while drinking coffee, are a contemporary topic of reflection and scholarship, as are the similarities and differences between the contemporary café and its earlier incarnations, including, of course, the Enlightenment coffee house. As may be expected from a commodity which has such a place in our lives, coffee is represented in many ways in the media—including in advertising, movies, novels, poetry, songs and, of course, in culinary writing, including cookbooks, magazines, and newspapers. There are specialist journals and popular serials dedicated to expounding and exploring the fine grain detail of its production and consumption, and food historians have written multiple biographies of coffee’s place in our world. So ubiquitous, indeed, is coffee, that as a named colour, it popularly features in fashion, interior design, home wares, and other products. This issue of M/C Journal invited contributors to consider coffee from any relevant angle that makes a contribution to our understanding of coffee and its place in culture and/or the media, and the result is a valuable array of illuminating articles from a diverse range of perspectives. It is for this reason that we chose an image of coffee cherries for the front cover of this issue. Co-editor Jill Adams has worked in the coffee industry for over ten years and has a superb collection of coffee images that ranges from farmers in Papua New Guinea to artfully shot compositions of antique coffee brewing equipment. In making our choice, however, we felt that Spencer Franks’s image of ripe coffee cherries at the Skybury Coffee Plantation in Far North Queensland, Australia, encapsulates the “fruitful” nature of the response to our call for articles for this issue. While most are familiar, moreover, with the dark, glossy appearance and other sensual qualities of roasted coffee beans, fewer have any occasion to contemplate just how lovely the coffee tree is as a plant. Each author has utilised the idea of “coffee” as a powerful springboard into a fascinating range of areas, showing just how inseparable coffee is from so many parts of our daily lives—even scholarly enquiry. In our first feature article, Susie Khamis profiles and interrogates the Nespresso brand, and how it points to the growing individualisation of coffee consumption, whereby the social aspect of cafés gives way to a more self-centred consumer experience. This feature valuably contrasts the way Starbucks has marketed itself as a social hub with the Nespresso boutique experience—which as Khamis explains—is not a café, but rather a club, a trademarked, branded space, predicated on highly knowledgeable and, therefore, privileged patrons. Coffee drinking is also associated with both sobriety and hangover cures, with cigarettes, late nights, and music. Our second feature, by Jon Stewart, looks at how coffee has become interwoven into our lives and imaginations through the music that we listen to—from jazz to blues to musical theatre numbers. It examines the influence of coffee as subject for performers and songwriters in three areas: coffee and courtship rituals, the stimulating effects of caffeine, and the politics of coffee consumption, claiming that coffee carries a cultural and musicological significance comparable to that of other drugs and ubiquitous consumer goods that are often more readily associated with popular music. Diana Noyce looks at the short-lived temperance movement in Australia, the opulent architecture of the coffee palaces built in that era, what was actually drunk in them, and their fates as the temperance movement passed into history. Emma Felton lyrically investigates how “going for a coffee” is less about coffee and more about how we connect with others in a mobile world, when flexible work hours are increasingly the norm and more people are living alone than any other period in history. Felton also introducess a theme that other writers also engage with: that the café also plays a role in the development of civil discourse and civility, and plays an important role in the development of cosmopolitan civil societies. Ireland-based Máirtín Mac Con Iomaire surveys Dublin—that tea drinking city—and both the history of coffee houses and the enduring coffee culture it possesses; a coffee culture that seems well assured through a remarkable win for Ireland in the 2008 World Barista Championships. China has also always been strongly associated with tea drinking but Adel Wang introduces readers to the emerging, and unique, café and coffee culture of that country, as well as some of the proprietors who are bringing about this cultural change. Australia, also once a significant consumer of tea, shifted to a preference for coffee over a twenty year period that began with the arrival of American Servicemen in Australia during World War II. Jill Adams looks at the rise of coffee during that time, and the efforts made by the tea industry to halt its market growth. These strong links between tea and coffee are reflected in Duncan Barnes, Danielle Fusco, and Lelia Green’s thought-provoking study of how coffee is marketed in Bangladesh, another tea drinking country. Ray Oldenberg’s influential concept of the “third place” is referred to by many authors in this collection, but Anthony McCosker and Rowan Wilken focus on this idea. By using a study of how Polish composer, Krzysztof Penderecki, worked in his local café from 9 in the morning to noon each day, this article explores the interrelationship of café space, communication, creativity, and materialism. Donna Lee Brien brings us back to the domestic space with her article on how the popular media of cookery books and magazines portray how coffee was used in Australian cooking at mid-century, in the process, tracing how tiramisu triumphed over the trifle. By exploring the currently fashionable practice of “direct trade” between roasters and coffee growers Sophie Sunderland offers a fresh perspective on coffee production by powerfully arguing that feeling (“affect”) is central to the way in which coffee is produced, represented and consumed in Western mass culture. Sunderland thus brings the issue full circle and back to Khamis’s discussion, for there is much feeling mobilised in the marketing of Nespresso. We would like to thank all the contributors and our generous and erudite peer reviewers for their work in the process of putting together this issue. We would also like to specially thank Spencer Franks for permission to use his image of coffee cherries as our cover image. We would lastly like to thank you the general editors of M/C Journal for selecting this theme for the journal this year.References Oldenburg, Ray, ed. Celebrating the Third Place: Inspiring Stories about the “Great Good Places” At the Heart of Our Communities. New York: Marlowe & Company 2001.Weinberg, Bennett Alan, and Bonnie K Bealer. The World of Caffeine. New York and London: Routledge, 2001.

Special Care Notice This paper discusses trauma and violence inflicted upon the Indigenous peoples of Tasmania through the process of colonisation. Content within this paper may be distressing to some readers. Introduction The decimation of the First Peoples of Van Diemen’s Land (now Tasmania) was systematic and swift. First Contact was an emotionally, intellectually, physically, and spiritually confronting series of encounters for the Indigenous inhabitants. There were, according to some early records, a few examples of peaceful interactions (Morris 84). Yet, the inevitable competition over resources, and the intensity with which colonists pursued their “claims” for food, land, and water, quickly transformed amicable relationships into hostile rivalries. Jennifer Gall has written that, as “European settlement expanded in the late 1820s, violent exchanges between settlers and Aboriginal people were frequent, brutal and unchecked” (58). Indeed, the near-annihilation of the original custodians of the land was, if viewed through the lens of time, a process that could be described as one that was especially efficient. As John Morris notes: in 1803, when the first settlers arrived in Van Diemen’s Land, the Aborigines had already inhabited the island for some 25,000 years and the population has been estimated at 4,000. Seventy-three years later, Truganinni, [often cited as] the last Tasmanian of full Aboriginal descent, was dead. (84) Against a backdrop of extreme violence, often referred to as the Black War (Clements 1), there were some, admittedly dubious, efforts to contain the bloodshed. One such effort, in the late 1820s, was the production, and subsequent distribution, of a set of Proclamation Boards. Approximately 100 Proclamation Boards (the Board) were introduced by the Lieutenant Governor of the day, George Arthur (after whom Port Arthur on the Tasman Peninsula is named). The purpose of these Boards was to communicate, via a four-strip pictogram, to the Indigenous peoples of the island colony that all people—black and white—were considered equal under the law. “British Justice would protect” everyone (Morris 84). This is reflected in the narrative of the Boards. The first image presents Indigenous peoples and colonists living peacefully together. The second, and central, image shows “a conciliatory handshake between the British governor and an Aboriginal ‘chief’, highly reminiscent of images found in North America on treaty medals and anti-slavery tokens” (Darian-Smith and Edmonds 4). The third and fourth images depict the repercussions for committing murder, with an Indigenous man hanged for spearing a colonist and a European man also hanged for shooting an Aborigine. Both men executed under “gubernatorial supervision” (Turnbull 53). Image 1: Governor Davey's [sic - actually Governor Arthur's] Proclamation to the Aborigines, 1816 [sic - actually c. 1828-30]. Image Credit: Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW (Call Number: SAFE / R 247). The Board is an interesting re-imagining of one of the traditional methods of communication for Indigenous peoples; the leaving of images on the bark of trees. Such trees, often referred to as scarred trees, are rare in modern-day Tasmania as “the expansion of settlements, and the impact of bush fires and other environmental factors” resulted in many of these trees being destroyed (Aboriginal Heritage Tasmania online). Similarly, only a few of the Boards, inspired by these trees, survive today. The Proclamation Board was, in the 1860s, re-imagined as the output of a different Governor: Lieutenant Governor Davey (after whom Port Davey, on the south-west coast of Tasmania is named). This re-imagining of the Board’s creator was so effective that the Board, today, is popularly known as Governor Davey’s Proclamation to the Aborigines. This paper outlines several other re-imaginings of this Board. In addition, this paper offers another, new, re-imagining of the Board, positing that this is an early “pamphlet” on crime, justice and punishment which actually presents as a pre-cursor to the modern Australian true crime tale. In doing so this work connects the Proclamation Board to the larger genre of crime fiction. One Proclamation Board: Two Governors Labelled Van Diemen’s Land and settled as a colony of New South Wales in 1803, this island state would secede from the administration of mainland Australia in 1825. Another change would follow in 1856 when Van Diemen’s Land was, in another process of re-imagining, officially re-named Tasmania. This change in nomenclature was an initiative to, symbolically at least, separate the contemporary state from a criminal and violent past (Newman online). Tasmania’s violent history was, perhaps, inevitable. The island was claimed by Philip Gidley King, the Governor of New South Wales, in the name of His Majesty, not for the purpose of building a community, but to “prevent the French from gaining a footing on the east side of that island” and also to procure “timber and other natural products, as well as to raise grain and to promote the seal industry” (Clark 36). Another rationale for this land claim was to “divide the convicts” (Clark 36) which re-fashioned the island into a gaol. It was this penal element of the British colonisation of Australia that saw the worst of the British Empire forced upon the Aboriginal peoples. As historian Clive Turnbull explains: the brutish state of England was reproduced in the English colonies, and that in many ways its brutishness was increased, for now there came to Australia not the humanitarians or the indifferent, but the men who had vested interests in the systems of restraint; among those who suffered restraint were not only a vast number who were merely unfortunate and poverty-stricken—the victims of a ‘depression’—but brutalised persons, child-slaughterers and even potential cannibals. (Turnbull 25) As noted above the Black War of Tasmania saw unprecedented aggression against the rightful occupants of the land. Yet, the Aboriginal peoples were “promised the white man’s justice, the people [were] exhorted to live in amity with them, the wrongs which they suffer [were] deplored” (Turnbull 23). The administrators purported an egalitarian society, one of integration and peace but Van Diemen’s Land was colonised as a prison and as a place of profit. So, “like many apologists whose material benefit is bound up with the systems which they defend” (Turnbull 23), assertions of care for the health and welfare of the Aboriginal peoples were made but were not supported by sufficient policies, or sufficient will, and the Black War continued. Colonel Thomas Davey (1758-1823) was the second person to serve as Lieutenant Governor of Van Diemen’s Land; a term of office that began in 1813 and concluded in 1817. The fourth Lieutenant Governor of the island was Colonel Sir George Arthur (1784-1854); his term of office, significantly longer than Davey’s, being from 1824 to 1836. The two men were very different but are connected through this intriguing artefact, the Proclamation Board. One of the efforts made to assert the principle of equality under the law in Van Diemen’s Land was an outcome of work undertaken by Surveyor General George Frankland (1800-1838). Frankland wrote to Arthur in early 1829 and suggested the Proclamation Board (Morris 84), sometimes referred to as a Picture Board or the Tasmanian Hieroglyphics, as a tool to support Arthur’s various Proclamations. The Proclamation, signed on 15 April 1828 and promulgated in the The Hobart Town Courier on 19 April 1828 (Arthur 1), was one of several notices attempting to reduce the increasing levels of violence between Indigenous peoples and colonists. The date on Frankland’s correspondence clearly situates the Proclamation Board within Arthur’s tenure as Lieutenant Governor. The Board was, however, in the 1860s, re-imagined as the output of Davey. The Clerk of the Tasmanian House of Assembly, Hugh M. Hull, asserted that the Board was the work of Davey and not Arthur. Hull’s rationale for this, despite archival evidence connecting the Board to Frankland and, by extension, to Arthur, is predominantly anecdotal. In a letter to the editor of The Hobart Mercury, published 26 November 1874, Hull wrote: this curiosity was shown by me to the late Mrs Bateman, neé Pitt, a lady who arrived here in 1804, and with whom I went to school in 1822. She at once recognised it as one of a number prepared in 1816, under Governor Davey’s orders; and said she had seen one hanging on a gum tree at Cottage Green—now Battery Point. (3) Hull went on to assert that “if any old gentleman will look at the picture and remember the style of military and civil dress of 1810-15, he will find that Mrs Bateman was right” (3). Interestingly, Hull relies upon the recollections of a deceased school friend and the dress codes depicted by the artist to date the Proclamation Board as a product of 1816, in lieu of documentary evidence dating the Board as a product of 1828-1830. Curiously, the citation of dress can serve to undermine Hull’s argument. An early 1840s watercolour by Thomas Bock, of Mathinna, an Aboriginal child of Flinders Island adopted by Lieutenant Governor John Franklin (Felton online), features the young girl wearing a brightly coloured, high-waisted dress. This dress is very similar to the dresses worn by the children on the Proclamation Board (the difference being that Mathinna wears a red dress with a contrasting waistband, the children on the Board wear plain yellow dresses) (Bock). Acknowledging the simplicity of children's clothing during the colonial era, it could still be argued that it would have been unlikely the Governor of the day would have placed a child, enjoying at that time a life of privilege, in a situation where she sat for a portrait wearing an old-fashioned garment. So effective was Hull’s re-imagining of the Board’s creator that the Board was, for many years, popularly known as Governor Davey’s Proclamation to the Aborigines with even the date modified, to 1816, to fit Davey’s term of office. Further, it is worth noting that catalogue records acknowledge the error of attribution and list both Davey and Arthur as men connected to the creation of the Proclamation Board. A Surviving Board: Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales One of the surviving Proclamation Boards is held by the Mitchell Library. The Boards, oil on Huon pine, were painted by “convict artists incarcerated in the island penal colony” (Carroll 73). The work was mass produced (by the standards of mass production of the day) by pouncing, “a technique [of the Italian Renaissance] of pricking the contours of a drawing with a pin. Charcoal was then dusted on to the drawing” (Carroll 75-76). The images, once outlined, were painted in oil. Of approximately 100 Boards made, several survive today. There are seven known Boards within public collections (Gall 58): five in Australia (Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW, Sydney; Museum Victoria, Melbourne; National Library of Australia, Canberra; Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery, Hobart; and Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery, Launceston); and two overseas (The Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, Harvard University and the Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, University of Cambridge). The catalogue record, for the Board held by the Mitchell Library, offers the following details:Paintings: 1 oil painting on Huon pine board, rectangular in shape with rounded corners and hole at top centre for suspension ; 35.7 x 22.6 x 1 cm. 4 scenes are depicted:Aborigines and white settlers in European dress mingling harmoniouslyAboriginal men and women, and an Aboriginal child approach Governor Arthur to shake hands while peaceful soldiers look onA hostile Aboriginal man spears a male white settler and is hanged by the military as Governor Arthur looks onA hostile white settler shoots an Aboriginal man and is hanged by the military as Governor Arthur looks on. (SAFE / R 247) The Mitchell Library Board was purchased from J.W. Beattie in May 1919 for £30 (Morris 86), which is approximately $2,200 today. Importantly, the title of the record notes both the popular attribution of the Board and the man who actually instigated the Board’s production: “Governor Davey’s [sic – actually Governor Arthur] Proclamation to the Aborigines, 1816 [sic – actually c. 1828-30].” The date of the Board is still a cause of some speculation. The earlier date, 1828, marks the declaration of martial law (Turnbull 94) and 1830 marks the Black Line (Edmonds 215); the attempt to form a human line of white men to force many Tasmanian Aboriginals, four of the nine nations, onto the Tasman Peninsula (Ryan 3). Frankland’s suggestion for the Board was put forward on 4 February 1829, with Arthur’s official Conciliator to the Aborigines, G.A. Robinson, recording his first sighting of a Board on 24 December 1829 (Morris 84-85). Thus, the conception of the Board may have been in 1828 but the Proclamation project was not fully realised until 1830. Indeed, a news item on the Proclamation Board did appear in the popular press, but not until 5 March 1830: We are informed that the Government have given directions for the painting of a large number of pictures to be placed in the bush for the contemplation of the Aboriginal Inhabitants. […] However […] the causes of their hostility must be more deeply probed, or their taste as connoisseurs in paintings more clearly established, ere we can look for any beneficial result from this measure. (Colonial Times 2) The remark made in relation to becoming a connoisseur of painting, though intended to be derogatory, makes some sense. There was an assumption that the Indigenous peoples could easily translate a European-styled execution by hanging, as a visual metaphor for all forms of punishment. It has long been understood that Indigenous “social organisation and religious and ceremonial life were often as complex as those of the white invaders” (McCulloch 261). However, the Proclamation Board was, in every sense, Eurocentric and made no attempt to acknowledge the complexities of Aboriginal culture. It was, quite simply, never going to be an effective tool of communication, nor achieve its socio-legal aims. The Board Re-imagined: Popular Media The re-imagining of the Proclamation Board as a construct of Governor Davey, instead of Governor Arthur, is just one of many re-imaginings of this curious object. There are, of course, the various imaginings of the purpose of the Board. On the surface these images are a tool for reconciliation but as “the story of these paintings unfolds […] it becomes clear that the proclamations were in effect envoys sent back to Britain to exhibit the ingenious attempts being applied to civilise Australia” (Carroll 76). In this way the Board was re-imagined by the Administration that funded the exercise, even before the project was completed, from a mechanism to assist in the bringing about of peace into an object that would impress colonial superiors. Khadija von Zinnenburg Carroll has recently written about the Boards in the context of their “transnational circulation” and how “objects become subjects and speak of their past through the ventriloquism of contemporary art history” (75). Carroll argues the Board is an item that couples “military strategy with a fine arts propaganda campaign” (Carroll 78). Critically the Boards never achieved their advertised purpose for, as Carroll explains, there were “elaborate rituals Aboriginal Australians had for the dead” and, therefore, “the display of a dead, hanging body is unthinkable. […] being exposed to the sight of a hanged man must have been experienced as an unimaginable act of disrespect” (92). The Proclamation Board would, in sharp contrast to feelings of unimaginable disrespect, inspire feelings of pride across the colonial population. An example of this pride being revealed in the selection of the Board as an object worthy of reproduction, as a lithograph, for an Intercolonial Exhibition, held in Melbourne in 1866 (Morris 84). The lithograph, which identifies the Board as Governor Davey’s Proclamation to the Aborigines and dated 1816, was listed as item 572, of 738 items submitted by Tasmania, for the event (The Commissioners 69-85). This type of reproduction, or re-imagining, of the Board would not be an isolated event. Penelope Edmonds has described the Board as producing a “visual vernacular” through a range of derivatives including lantern slides, lithographs, and postcards. These types of tourist ephemera are in addition to efforts to produce unique re-workings of the Board as seen in Violet Mace’s Proclamation glazed earthernware, which includes a jug (1928) and a pottery cup (1934) (Edmonds online). The Board Re-imagined: A True Crime Tale The Proclamation Board offers numerous narratives. There is the story that the Board was designed and deployed to communicate. There is the story behind the Board. There is also the story of the credit for the initiative which was transferred from Governor Arthur to Governor Davey and subsequently returned to Arthur. There are, too, the provenance stories of individual Boards. There is another story the Proclamation Board offers. The story of true crime in colonial Australia. The Board, as noted, presents through a four-strip pictogram an idea that all are equal under the rule of law (Arthur 1). Advocating for a society of equals was a duplicitous practice, for while Aborigines were hanged for allegedly murdering settlers, “there is no record of whites being charged, let alone punished, for murdering Aborigines” (Morris 84). It would not be until 1838 that white men would be punished for the murder of Aboriginal people (on the mainland) in the wake of the Myall Creek Massacre, in northern New South Wales. There were other examples of attempts to bring about a greater equity under the rule of law but, as Amanda Nettelbeck explains, there was wide-spread resistance to the investigation and charging of colonists for crimes against the Indigenous population with cases regularly not going to trial, or, if making a courtroom, resulting in an acquittal (355-59). That such cases rested on “legally inadmissible Aboriginal testimony” (Reece in Nettelbeck 358) propped up a justice system that was, inherently, unjust in the nineteenth century. It is important to note that commentators at the time did allude to the crime narrative of the Board: when in the most civilized country in the world it has been found ineffective as example to hang murderers in chains, it is not to be expected a savage race will be influenced by the milder exhibition of effigy and caricature. (Colonial Times 2) It is argued here that the Board was much more than an offering of effigy and caricature. The Proclamation Board presents, in striking detail, the formula for the modern true crime tale: a peace disturbed by the act of murder; and the ensuing search for, and delivery of, justice. Reinforcing this point, are the ideas of justice seen within crime fiction, a genre that focuses on the restoration of order out of chaos (James 174), are made visible here as aspirational. The true crime tale does not, consistently, offer the reassurances found within crime fiction. In the real world, particularly one as violent as colonial Australia, we are forced to acknowledge that, below the surface of the official rhetoric on justice and crime, the guilty often go free and the innocent are sometimes hanged. Another point of note is that, if the latter date offered here, of 1830, is taken as the official date of the production of these Boards, then the significance of the Proclamation Board as a true crime tale is even more pronounced through a connection to crime fiction (both genres sharing a common literary heritage). The year 1830 marks the release of Australia’s first novel, Quintus Servinton written by convicted forger Henry Savery, a crime novel (produced in three volumes) published by Henry Melville of Hobart Town. Thus, this paper suggests, 1830 can be posited as a year that witnessed the production of two significant cultural artefacts, the Proclamation Board and the nation’s first full-length literary work, as also being the year that established the, now indomitable, traditions of true crime and crime fiction in Australia. Conclusion During the late 1820s in Van Diemen’s Land (now Tasmania) a set of approximately 100 Proclamation Boards were produced by the Lieutenant Governor of the day, George Arthur. The official purpose of these items was to communicate, to the Indigenous peoples of the island colony, that all—black and white—were equal under the law. Murderers, be they Aboriginal or colonist, would be punished. The Board is a re-imagining of one of the traditional methods of communication for Indigenous peoples; the leaving of drawings on the bark of trees. The Board was, in the 1860s, in time for an Intercolonial Exhibition, re-imagined as the output of Lieutenant Governor Davey. This re-imagining of the Board was so effective that surviving artefacts, today, are popularly known as Governor Davey’s Proclamation to the Aborigines with the date modified, to 1816, to fit the new narrative. The Proclamation Board was also reimagined, by its creators and consumers, in a variety of ways: as peace offering; military propaganda; exhibition object; tourism ephemera; and contemporary art. This paper has also, briefly, offered another re-imagining of the Board, positing that this early “pamphlet” on justice and punishment actually presents a pre-cursor to the modern Australian true crime tale. The Proclamation Board tells many stories but, at the core of this curious object, is a crime story: the story of mass murder. Acknowledgements The author acknowledges the Palawa peoples: the traditional custodians of the lands known today as Tasmania. The author acknowledges, too, the Gadigal people of the Eora nation upon whose lands this paper was researched and written. The author extends thanks to Richard Neville, Margot Riley, Kirsten Thorpe, and Justine Wilson of the State Library of New South Wales for sharing their knowledge and offering their support. The author is also grateful to the reviewers for their careful reading of the manuscript and for making valuable suggestions. ReferencesAboriginal Heritage Tasmania. “Scarred Trees.” Aboriginal Cultural Heritage, 2012. 12 Sep. 2015 ‹http://www.aboriginalheritage.tas.gov.au/aboriginal-cultural-heritage/archaeological-site-types/scarred-trees›.Arthur, George. “Proclamation.” The Hobart Town Courier 19 Apr. 1828: 1.———. Governor Davey’s [sic – actually Governor Arthur’s] Proclamation to the Aborigines, 1816 [sic – actually c. 1828-30]. Graphic Materials. Sydney: Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW, c. 1828-30.Bock, Thomas. Mathinna. Watercolour and Gouache on Paper. 23 x 19 cm (oval), c. 1840.Carroll, Khadija von Zinnenburg. Art in the Time of Colony: Empires and the Making of the Modern World, 1650-2000. Farnham, UK: Ashgate Publishing, 2014.Clark, Manning. History of Australia. Abridged by Michael Cathcart. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 1997 [1993]. Clements, Nicholas. The Black War: Fear, Sex and Resistance in Tasmania. St Lucia, Qld.: U of Queensland P, 2014.Colonial Times. “Hobart Town.” Colonial Times 5 Mar. 1830: 2.The Commissioners. Intercolonial Exhibition Official Catalogue. 2nd ed. Melbourne: Blundell & Ford, 1866.Darian-Smith, Kate, and Penelope Edmonds. “Conciliation on Colonial Frontiers.” Conciliation on Colonial Frontiers: Conflict, Performance and Commemoration in Australia and the Pacific Rim. Eds. Kate Darian-Smith and Penelope Edmonds. New York: Routledge, 2015. 1–14. Edmonds, Penelope. “‘Failing in Every Endeavour to Conciliate’: Governor Arthur’s Proclamation Boards to the Aborigines, Australian Conciliation Narratives and Their Transnational Connections.” Journal of Australian Studies 35.2 (2011): 201–18.———. “The Proclamation Cup: Tasmanian Potter Violet Mace and Colonial Quotations.” reCollections 5.2 (2010). 20 May 2015 ‹http://recollections.nma.gov.au/issues/vol_5_no_2/papers/the_proclamation_cup_›.Felton, Heather. “Mathinna.” Companion to Tasmanian History. Hobart: Centre for Tasmanian Historical Studies, University of Tasmania, 2006. 29 Sep. 2015 ‹http://www.utas.edu.au/library/companion_to_tasmanian_history/M/Mathinna.htm›.Gall, Jennifer. Library of Dreams: Treasures from the National Library of Australia. Canberra: National Library of Australia, 2011.Hull, Hugh M. “Tasmanian Hieroglyphics.” The Hobart Mercury 26 Nov. 1874: 3.James, P.D. Talking about Detective Fiction. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2009.Mace, Violet. Violet Mace’s Proclamation Jug. Glazed Earthernware. Launceston: Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery, 1928.———. Violet Mace’s Proclamation Cup. Glazed Earthernware. Canberra: National Museum of Australia, 1934.McCulloch, Samuel Clyde. “Sir George Gipps and Eastern Australia’s Policy toward the Aborigine, 1838-46.” The Journal of Modern History 33.3 (1961): 261–69.Morris, John. “Notes on a Message to the Tasmanian Aborigines in 1829, popularly called ‘Governor Davey’s Proclamation to the Aborigines, 1816’.” Australiana 10.3 (1988): 84–7.Nettelbeck, Amanda. “‘Equals of the White Man’: Prosecution of Settlers for Violence against Aboriginal Subjects of the Crown, Colonial Western Australia.” Law and History Review 31.2 (2013): 355–90.Newman, Terry. “Tasmania, the Name.” Companion to Tasmanian History, 2006. 16 Sep. 2015 ‹http://www.utas.edu.au/library/companion_to_tasmanian_history/T/Tasmania%20name.htm›.Reece, Robert H.W., in Amanda Nettelbeck. “‘Equals of the White Man’: Prosecution of Settlers for Violence against Aboriginal Subjects of the Crown, Colonial Western Australia.” Law and History Review 31.2 (2013): 355–90.Ryan, Lyndall. “The Black Line in Van Diemen’s Land: Success or Failure?” Journal of Australian Studies 37.1 (2013): 3–18.Savery, Henry. 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Al Gore brought climate change into … our living rooms. … The 2008 oil price hikes [and the global financial crisis] awakened the world to potential economic hardship in a rapidly urbanising world where the petrol-driven automobile is still king. (Mouritz 47) Six hundred million cars (Urry, “Climate Change” 265) traverse the world’s roads, or sit idly in garages and clogging city streets. The West’s economic progress has been built in part around the success of the automotive industry, where the private car rules the spaces and rhythms of daily life. The problem of “automobile dependence” (Newman and Kenworthy) is often cited as one of the biggest challenges facing countries attempting to combat anthropogenic climate change. Sociologist John Urry has claimed that automobility is an “entire culture” that has re-defined movement in the contemporary world (Urry Mobilities 133). As such, it is the single most significant environmental challenge “because of the intensity of resource use, the production of pollutants and the dominant culture which sustains the major discourses of what constitutes the good life” (Urry Sociology 57-8). Climate change has forced a re-thinking of not only how we produce and dispose of cars, but also how we use them. What might a society not dominated by the private, petrol-driven car look like? Some of the pre-eminent writers on climate change futures, such as Gwynne Dyer, James Lovelock and John Urry, discuss one possibility that might emerge when oil becomes scarce: societies will descend into civil chaos, “a Hobbesian war of all against all” where “regional warlordism” and the most brutish, barbaric aspects of human nature come to the fore (Urry, “Climate Change” 261). Discussing a post-car society, John Urry also proffers another scenario in his “sociologies of the future:” an Orwellian “digital panopticon” in which other modes of transport, far more suited to a networked society, might emerge on a large scale and, in the long run, “might tip the system” into post-car one before it is too late (Urry, “Climate Change” 261). Amongst the many options he discusses is car sharing. Since its introduction in Germany more than 30 years ago, most of the critical literature has been devoted to the planning, environmental and business innovation aspects of car sharing; however very little has been written on its cultural dimensions. This paper analyses this small but developing trend in many Western countries, but more specifically its emergence in Sydney. The convergence of climate change discourse with that of the global financial crisis has resulted in a focus in the mainstream media, over the last few months, on technologies and practices that might save us money and also help the environment. For instance, a Channel 10 News story in May 2009 focused on the boom in car sharing in Sydney (see: http://www.youtube.com/watch? v=EPTT8vYVXro). Car sharing is an adaptive technology that doesn’t do away with the car altogether, but rather transforms the ways in which cars are used, thought about and promoted. I argue that car sharing provides a challenge to the dominant consumerist model of the privately owned car that has sustained capitalist structures for at least the last 50 years. In addition, through looking at some marketing and promotion tactics of car sharing in Australia, I examine some emerging car sharing subjectivities that both extend and subvert the long-established discourses of the automobile’s flexibility and autonomy to tempt monogamous car buyers into becoming philandering car sharers. Much literature has emerged over the last decade devoted to the ubiquitous phenomenon of automobility. “The car is the literal ‘iron cage’ of modernity, motorised, moving and domestic,” claims Urry (“Connections” 28). Over the course of twentieth century, automobility became “the dominant form of daily movement over much of the planet (dominating even those who do not move by cars)” (Paterson 132). Underpinning Urry’s prolific production of literature is his concept of automobility. This he defines as a complex system of “intersecting assemblages” that is not only about driving cars but the nexus between “production, consumption, machinic complexes, mobility, culture and environmental resource use” (Urry, “Connections” 28). In addition, Matthew Paterson, in his Automobile Politics, asserts that “automobility” should be viewed as everything that makes driving around in a car possible: highways, parking structures and traffic rules (87). While the private car seems an inevitable outcome of a capitalistic, individualistic modern society, much work has gone into the process of naturalising a dominant notion of automobility on drivers’ horizons. Through art, literature, popular music and brand advertising, the car has long been associated with seductive forms of identity, and societies have been built around a hegemonic culture of car ownership and driving as the pre-eminent, modern mode of self-expression. And more than 50 years of a popular Hollywood film genre—road movies—has been devoted to glorifying the car as total freedom, or in its more nihilistic version, “freedom on the road to nowhere” (Corrigan). As Paterson claims, “autonomous mobility of car driving is socially produced … by a range of interventions that have made it possible” (18). One of the main reasons automobility has been so successful, he claims, is through its ability to reproduce capitalist society. It provided a commodity around which a whole set of symbols, images and discourses could be constructed which served to effectively legitimise capitalist society. (30) Once the process is locked-in, it then becomes difficult to reverse as billions of agents have adapted to it and built their lives around “automobility’s strange mixture of co-ercion and flexibility” (Urry, “Climate Change” 266). The Decline of the Car Globally, the greatest recent rupture in the automobile’s meta-narrative of success came about in October 2008 when three CEOs from the major US car firms (General Motors, Ford and Chrysler) begged the United States Senate for emergency loan funds to avoid going bankrupt. To put the economic significance of this into context, Emma Rothschild notes “when the listing of the ‘Fortune 500’ began in 1955, General Motors was the largest American corporation, and it was one of the three largest, measured in revenues, every year until 2007” (Rothschilds, “Can we transform”). Curiously, instead of focusing on the death of the car (industry), as we know it, that this scenario might inevitably herald, much of the media attention focused on the hypocrisy and environmental hubris of the fact that all the CEOs had flown in private luxury jets to Washington. “Couldn’t they have at least jet-pooled?” complained one Democrat Senator (Wutkowski). In their next visit to Washington, most of them drove up in experimental vehicles still in pre-production, including plug-in hybrids. Up until that point no other manufacturing industry had been bailed out in the current financial crisis. Of course it’s not the first time the automobile industries have been given government assistance. The Australian automotive industry has received on-going government subsidies since the 1980s. Most recently, PM Kevin Rudd granted a 6.2 billion dollar ‘green car’ package to Australian automotive manufacturers. His justification to the growing chorus of doubts about the economic legitimacy of such a move was: “Some might say it's not worth trying to have a car industry, that is not my view, it is not the view of the Australian government and it never will be the view of any government which I lead” (The Australian). Amongst the many reasons for the government support of these industries must include the extraordinary interweaving of discourses of nationhood and progress with the success of the car industry. As the last few months reveal, evidently the mantra still prevails of “what’s good for the country is good for GM and vice versa”, as the former CEO of General Motors, Charles “Engine” Wilson, argued back in 1952 (Hirsch). In post-industrial societies like Australia it’s not only the economic aspects of the automotive industries that are criticised. Cars seem to be slowly losing their grip on identity-formation that they managed to maintain throughout “the century of the car” (Gilroy). They are no longer unproblematically associated with progress, freedom, youthfulness and absolute autonomy. The decline and eventual death of the automobile as we know it will be long, arduous and drawn-out. But there are some signs of a post-automobile society emerging, perhaps where cars will still be used but they will not dominate our society, urban space and culture in quite the same way that they have over the last 50 years. Urry discusses six transformations that might ‘tip’ the hegemonic system of automobility into a post-car one. He mentions new fuel systems, new materials for car construction, the de-privatisation of cars, development of communications technologies and integration of networked public transport through smart card technology and systems (Urry, Mobilities 281-284). As Paterson and others have argued, computers and mobile phones have somehow become “more genuine symbols of mobility and in turn progress” than the car (157). As a result, much automobile advertising now intertwines communications technologies with brand to valorise mobility. Car sharing goes some way in not only de-privatising cars but also using smart card technology and networked systems enabling an association with mobility futures. In Automobile Politics Paterson asks, “Is the car fundamentally unsustainable? Can it be greened? Has the car been so naturalised on our mobile horizons that we can’t imagine a society without it?” (27). From a sustainability perspective, one of the biggest problems with cars is still the amount of space devoted to them; highways, garages, car parks. About one-quarter of the land in London and nearly one-half of that in Los Angeles is devoted to car-only environments (Urry, “Connections” 29). In Sydney, it is more like a quarter. We have to reduce the numbers of cars on our roads to make our societies livable (Newman and Kenworthy). Car sharing provokes a re-thinking of urban space. If one quarter of Sydney’s population car shared and we converted this space into green use or local market gardens, then we’d have a radically transformed city. Car sharing, not to be confused with ‘ride sharing’ or ‘car pooling,’ involves a number of people using cars that are parked centrally in dedicated car bays around the inner city. After becoming a member (much like a 6 or 12 monthly gym membership), the cars can be booked (and extended) by the hour via the web or phone. They can then be accessed via a smart card. In Sydney there are 3 car sharing organisations operating: Flexicar (http://www.flexicar.com.au/), CharterDrive (http://www.charterdrive.com.au/) and GoGet (http://www.goget.com.au/).[1] The largest of these, GoGet, has been operating for 6 years and has over 5000 members and 200 cars located predominantly in the inner city suburbs. Anecdotally, GoGet claims its membership is primarily drawn from professionals living in the inner-urban ring. Their motivation for joining is, firstly, the convenience that car sharing provides in a congested, public transport-challenged city like Sydney; secondly, the financial savings derived; and thirdly, members consider the environmental and social benefits axiomatic. [2] The promotion tactics of car sharing seems to reflect this by barely mentioning the environment but focusing on those aspects which link car sharing to futuristic and flexible subjectivities which I outline in the next section. Unlike traditional car rental, the vehicles in car sharing are scattered through local streets in a network allowing local residents and businesses access to the vehicles mostly on foot. One car share vehicle is used by 22-24 members and gets about seven cars off the street (Mehlman 22). With lots of different makes and models of vehicles in each of their fleets, Flexicar’s website claims, “around the corner, around the clock” “Flexicar offers you the freedom of driving your own car without the costs and hassles of owning one,” while GoGet asserts, “like owning a car only better.” Due to the initial lack of interest from government, all the car sharing organisations in Australia are privately owned. This is very different to the situation in Europe where governments grant considerable financial assistance and have often integrated car sharing into pre-existing public transport networks. Urry discusses the spread of car sharing across the Western world: Six hundred plus cities across Europe have developed car-sharing schemes involving 50,000 people (Cervero, 2001). Prototype examples are found such as Liselec in La Rochelle, and in northern California, Berlin and Japan (Motavalli, 2000: 233). In Deptford there is an on-site car pooling service organized by Avis attached to a new housing development, while in Jersey electric hire cars have been introduced by Toyota. (Urry, “Connections” 34) ‘Collaborative Consumption’ and Flexible, Philandering Subjectivities Car sharing shifts the dominant conception of a car from being a ‘commodity’, which people purchase and subsequently identify with, to a ‘service’ or network of vehicles that are collectively used. It does this through breaking down the one car = one person (or one family) ratio with one car instead servicing 20 or more people. One of Paterson’s biggest criticisms concerns car driving as “a form of social exclusion” (44). Car sharing goes some way in subverting the model of hyper-individualism that supports both hegemonic automobility and capitalist structures, whereby the private motorcar produces a “separation of individuals from one another driving in their own private universes with no account for anyone else” (Paterson 90). As a car sharer, the driver has to acknowledge that this is not their private domain, and the car no longer becomes an extension of their living room or bedroom, as is noted in much literature around car cultures (Morris, Sheller, Simpson). There are a community of people using the car, so the driver needs to be attentive to things like keeping the car clean and bringing it back on time so another person can use it. So while car sharing may change the affective relationship and self-identification with the vehicle itself, it doesn’t necessarily change the phenomenological dimensions of car driving, such as the nostalgic pleasure of driving on the open road, or perhaps more realistically in Sydney, the frustration of being caught in a traffic jam. However, the fact the driver doesn’t own the vehicle does alter their relationship to the space and the commodity in a literal as well as a figurative way. Like car ownership, evidently car sharing also produces its own set of limitations on freedom and convenience. That mobility and car ownership equals freedom—the ‘freedom to drive’—is one imaginary which car firms were able to successfully manipulate and perpetuate throughout the twentieth century. However, car sharing also attaches itself to the same discourses of freedom and pervasive individualism and then thwarts them. For instance, GoGet in Sydney have run numerous marketing campaigns that attempt to contest several ‘self-evident truths’ about automobility. One is flexibility. Flexibility (and associated convenience) was one thing that ownership of a car in the late twentieth century was firmly able to affiliate itself with. However, car ownership is now more often associated with being expensive, a hassle and a long-term commitment, through things like buying, licensing, service and maintenance, cleaning, fuelling, parking permits, etc. Cars have also long been linked with sexuality. When in the 1970s financial challenges to the car were coming as a result of the oil shocks, Chair of General Motors, James Roche stated that, “America’s romance with the car is not over. Instead it has blossomed into a marriage” (Rothschilds, Paradise Lost). In one marketing campaign GoGet asked, ‘Why buy a car when all you need is a one night stand?’, implying that owning a car is much like a monogamous relationship that engenders particular commitments and responsibilities, whereas car sharing can just be a ‘flirtation’ or a ‘one night stand’ and you don’t have to come back if you find it a hassle. Car sharing produces a philandering subjectivity that gives individuals the freedom to have lots of different types of cars, and therefore relationships with each of them: I can be a Mini Cooper driver one day and a Falcon driver the next. This disrupts the whole kind of identification with one type of car that ownership encourages. It also breaks down a stalwart of capitalism—brand loyalty to a particular make of car with models changing throughout a person’s lifetime. Car sharing engenders far more fluid types of subjectivities as opposed to those rigid identities associated with ownership of one car. Car sharing can also be regarded as part of an emerging phenomenon of what Rachel Botsman and Roo Rogers have called “collaborative consumption”—when a community gets together “through organized sharing, swapping, bartering, trading, gifting and renting to get the same pleasures of ownership with reduced personal cost and burden, and lower environmental impact” (www.collaborativeconsumption.com). As Urry has stated, these developments indicate a gradual transformation in current economic structures from ownership to access, as shown more generally by many services offered and accessed via the web (Urry Mobilities 283). Rogers and Botsman maintain that this has come about through the “convergence of online social networks increasing cost consciousness and environmental necessity." In the future we could predict an increasing shift to payment to ‘access’ for mobility services, rather than the outright private ownerships of vehicles (Urry, “Connections”). Networked-Subjectivities or a ‘Digital Panopticon’? Cars, no longer able on their own to signify progress in either technical or social terms, attain their symbolic value through their connection to other, now more prevalently ‘progressive’ technologies. (Paterson 155) The term ‘digital panopticon’ has often been used to describe a dystopian world of virtual surveillance through such things as web-enabled social networking sites where much information is public, or alternatively, for example, the traffic surveillance system in London whereby the public can be constantly scrutinised through the centrally monitored cameras that track people’s/vehicle’s movements on city streets. In his “sociologies of the future,” Urry maintains that one thing which might save us from descending into post-car civil chaos is a system governed by a “digital panopticon” mobility system. This would be governed by a nexus system “that orders, regulates, tracks and relatively soon would ‘drive’ each vehicle and monitor each driver/passenger” (Urry, “Connections” 33). The transformation of mobile technologies over the last decade has made car sharing, as a viable business model, possible. Through car sharing’s exploitation of an online booking system, and cars that can be tracked, monitored and traced, the seeds of a mobile “networked-subjectivity” are emerging. But it’s not just the technology people are embracing; a cultural shift is occurring in the way that people understand mobility, their own subjectivity, and more importantly, the role of cars. NETT Magazine did a feature on car sharing, and advertised it on their front cover as “GoGet’s web and mobile challenge to car owners” (May 2009). Car sharing seems to be able to tap into more contemporary understandings of what mobility and flexibility might mean in the twenty-first century. In their marketing and promotion tactics, car sharing organisations often discursively exploit science fiction terminology and generate a subjectivity much more dependent on networks and accessibility (158). In the suburbs people park their cars in garages. In car sharing, the vehicles are parked not in car bays or car parks, but in publically accessible ‘pods’, which promotes a futuristic, sci-fi experience. Even the phenomenological dimensions of swiping a smart card over the front of the windscreen to open the car engender a transformation in access to the car, instead of through a key. This is service-technology of the future while those stuck in car ownership are from the old economy and the “century of the car” (Gilroy). The connections between car sharing and the mobile phone and other communications technologies are part of the notion of a networked, accessible vehicle. However, the more problematic side to this is the car under surveillance. Nic Lowe, of his car sharing organisation GoGet says, “Because you’re tagged on and we know it’s you, you are able to drive the car… every event you do is logged, so we know what time you turned the key, what time you turned it off and we know how far you drove … if a car is lost we can sound the horn to disable it remotely to prevent theft. We can track how fast you were going and even how fast you accelerated … track the kilometres for billing purposes and even find out when people are using the car when they shouldn’t be” (Mehlman 27). The possibility with the GPS technology installed in the car is being able to monitor speeds at which people drive, thereby fining then every minute spent going over the speed limit. While this conjures up the notion of the car under surveillance, it is also a much less bleaker scenario than “a Hobbesian war of all against all”. Conclusion: “Hundreds of Cars, No Garage” The prospect of climate change is provoking innovation at a whole range of levels, as well as providing a re-thinking of how we use taken-for-granted technologies. Sometime this century the one tonne, privately owned, petrol-driven car will become an artefact, much like Sydney trams did last century. At this point in time, car sharing can be regarded as an emerging transitional technology to a post-car society that provides a challenge to hegemonic automobile culture. It is evidently not a radical departure from the car’s vast machinic complex and still remains a part of what Urry calls the “system of automobility”. From a pro-car perspective, its networked surveillance places constraints on the free agency of the car, while for those of the deep green variety it is, no doubt, a compromise. Nevertheless, it provides a starting point for re-thinking the foundations of the privately-owned car. While Urry makes an important point in relation to a society moving from ownership to access, he doesn’t take into account the cultural shifts occurring that are enabling car sharing to be attractive to prospective members: the notion of networked subjectivities, the discursive constructs used to establish car sharing as a thing of the future with pods and smart cards instead of garages and keys. If car sharing became mainstream it could have radical environmental impacts on things like urban space and pollution, as well as the dominant culture of “automobile dependence” (Newman and Kenworthy), as Australia attempts to move to a low carbon economy. Notes [1] My partner Bruce Jeffreys, together with Nic Lowe, founded Newtown Car Share in 2002, which is now called GoGet. [2] Several layers down in the ‘About Us’ link on GoGet’s website is the following information about the environmental benefits of car sharing: “GoGet's aim is to provide a reliable, convenient and affordable transport service that: allows people to live car-free, decreases car usage, improves local air quality, removes private cars from local streets, increases patronage for public transport, allows people to lead more active lives” (http://www.goget.com.au/about-us.html). References The Australian. “Kevin Rudd Throws $6.2bn Lifeline to Car Industry.” 10 Nov. 2008. < http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/business/story/ 0,28124,24628026-5018011,00.html >.Corrigan, Tim. “Genre, Gender, and Hysteria: The Road Movie in Outer Space.” A Cinema Without Walls: Movies, Culture after Vietnam. New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1991. Dwyer, Gwynne. Climate Wars. North Carlton: Scribe, 2008. 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Paradise Lost: The Decline of the Auto-Industrial Age. New York: Radom House, 1973. Rothschilds, Emma. “Can We Transform the Auto-Industrial Society?” New York Review of Books 56.3 (2009). < http://www.nybooks.com/articles/22333 >. Sheller, Mimi. “Automotive Emotions: Feeling the Car.” Theory, Culture and Society 21 (2004): 221–42. Simpson, Catherine. “Volatile Vehicles: When Women Take the Wheel.” Womenvision. Ed. Lisa French. Melbourne: Damned Publishing, 2003. 197-210. Urry, John. Sociology Beyond Societies: Mobilities for the 21st Century. London: Routledge, 2000. Urry, John. “Connections.” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 22 (2004): 27-37. Urry, John. Mobilities. Cambridge, and Maiden, MA: Polity Press, 2008. Urry, John. “Climate Change, Travel and Complex Futures.” British Journal of Sociology 59. 2 (2008): 261-279. Watts, Laura, and John Urry. “Moving Methods, Travelling Times.” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 26 (2008): 860-874. 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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. Waving to passers-by invites them to become part of the movement in a non-threatening and inclusive way. It thus envelops supporters and non-supporters alike, and its very innocuousness makes it difficult to suppress. We have argued that this instance can be referenced to a similar reverse movement at a broader level—that of co-opting liberal notions and involving the general populace in new practices and activities that undermine the status quo. The ability of the counterculture in general and environment movements in particular to innovate in the quest to challenge and change what it perceives as damaging or unethical practices demonstrates its ingenuity and spirit. This movement is testament to its dynamic nature. References ABC News. Metgasco Has No CSG Extraction Plans for Glenugie. 2013. 30 July 2014 ‹http://www.abc.net.au/news/2013-01-22/metgasco-says-no-csg-extraction-planned-for-glenugie/4477652›. Bible, Vanessa. 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