Leard Forest Blockade by WildernessWitness.

As we walked across the fields the moon rose a pale crescent in the east. We reached one of the machinery depots and the team split. Continuing on, the bright lights of the site office appeared in a a saddle before us. A huge halogen lamp turned night to day, and it was hard to feel as though we weren’t clearly visible. We reached our destination and prepared to set up, but the roar of an approaching engine and lights bobbing through the bush sent us into hiding. We lay still as a security vehicle approached and drove within ten metres of us. They roared of f down the road and we re turned to our task .

As dawn broke, a five metre high tripod sat astride machinery, with a protector dangling from the

top. Further back, the other team had set up a single long aluminium pole held up by lines running through no less then thirteen machines. Moving the machines or cutting the line would

cause the po le to topple wi th the protector a top i t .

Velyama gate blocked. Eastlink gate blocked. Northloop and Testons lane blocked. Every main ac-cess way to the mine site had a tripod and sitter in place to prevent access. A crowd had

gathered at Velyama gate in a mass show of opposition to the mine. The forest would be safe for today at least .

With little else to do, we lay in the bush and waited for the police response. Five hours later we

received word of multiple police cars and a police rescue truck headed for the site. Time dragged on. Unbeknownst to us, another protector had locked onto a cherry picker in the night and the

police were busy detaching them. They arrived soon enough, along with a gaggle of mine workers and site management, and proceeded to improvise by standing on an excavator blade to

retrieve our protector! The sitter had thrown their ropes over the top of the tripod and generally made an enormous tangle, so it took some time for the police rescue team to get them down

safely. Once the protector was down and arrested, the police and workers took off with the newly f reed cherry p icker in hot pursui t .

Arriving back at camp that afternoon there was a huge buzz. Some of the tripod teams had packed up minutes before police arrived, saving the apparatus for another day, and there was all

round agreement that it was a brilliant action, with on site work stopped for the day and some excel lent media coverage.

The company later claimed that the day had been a rostered day off and no work was scheduled. It seems odd that so many workers had turned up on an RDO. They must love their jobs so much they don’t mind putting in some unpaid overtime. Standard company practice is to downplay any

protest action. Every time there's an action they declare that there was no effect on the operation, and yet figures like $50 000 of lost productivity consistently pop up quietly on police charge

sheets. Admitting the true cost of ongoing action wouldn’t do their share price any favours .

During the long hot Australian summer the forest was being watched over, and preparations were being made. It had been a tense few months in the campaign for Leard state forest, an ecologically vital remnant Whitebox gum forest on the Liverpool plains of New South Wales, Australia. I came to the on-site camp to help actions designed to physically halt operation of the coal mine by (primarily) chaining and locking people ('protectors') in harms way of machinery using various home-made apparatus. We perform these actions repeatedly to protect as much forest as possib le by stopping as much 'work ' as possib le . Rumours had been circulating and each heavy truck that come by may have been the first in the inevitable stream of vehicles carrying buildings, machines, and equipment to begin the demolition of the forest and construction of Whitehaven Coal’s new Maules Creek mine. Not only will the mine destroy much of the forest, but the 30 million tonnes of CO2 released annually from it’s product will be on par with the annual emissions of the entire nation of New Zealand. When heavy machinery was spotted moving in on trucks, red alert was sent out to the networks of protectors that had built up throughout the campaign and a rolling blockade began. A 63 year old Tamworth man chained himself to a car at the gates, despite owning an engineering firm that sold equipment to the mines. Others blocked truck movements of a morning, locked themselves to excavators or tied themselves high up in treesits attached to machinery. Every night new actions were planned, and energy built as successes mounted. Protectors locked onto machines at dawn, confounding workers who arrived shortly afterwards to commence their day. The first action we were involved in locked up a specialised tree felling bulldozer for over half the day. Once the protector had been taken away by police we moved off through the forest only to halt, awestruck, at the sound of crashing timber nearby. We turned and moved back towards it expecting to come across the source within a couple of hundred metres. The sound of snapping timber and a roaring engine echoed through the forest. Half a kilometre later we saw a bright yellow beast moving through the forest pushing down fully grown whitebox, eucalypt and cypress trees as though they were matchsticks. It was clearing a path for a new road to bring in heavier equipment and speed the way of the da i ly s t ream of work vehic les . The contrast to our last v is i t was s tark .

After observing the behemoth for some time we headed back for camp. Away from the valley with the machines, the forest was peaceful. We followed wallaby trails as bird calls echoed through the trees. After a few hours walk we stopped for a break in a wallaby hideout. A handful of circular dirt pads had been worn under a canopy of shady bush. Having only snatched a couple of hours sleep on the forest floor the night before we soon drifted off. Coming to in the peace of the forest, it was hard to imagine our bush cubby being reduced to a dusty parce l of a i r tumbl ing around an enormous tox ic p i t .

We assembled in the early hours of the morning and headed out in the dark. Arriving near the site of the soon-to-be mine we unloaded our heavy cargo and set off into the night.

Leard Forest Blockade by WildernessWitness.

As we walked across the fields the moon rose a pale crescent in the east. We reached one of the machinery depots and the team split. Continuing on, the bright lights of the site office appeared in a a saddle before us. A huge halogen lamp turned night to day, and it was hard to feel as though we weren’t clearly visible. We reached our destination and prepared to set up, but the roar of an approaching engine and lights bobbing through the bush sent us into hiding. We lay still as a security vehicle approached and drove within ten metres of us. They roared of f down the road and we re turned to our task .

As dawn broke, a five metre high tripod sat astride machinery, with a protector dangling from the

top. Further back, the other team had set up a single long aluminium pole held up by lines running through no less then thirteen machines. Moving the machines or cutting the line would

cause the po le to topple wi th the protector a top i t .

Velyama gate blocked. Eastlink gate blocked. Northloop and Testons lane blocked. Every main ac-cess way to the mine site had a tripod and sitter in place to prevent access. A crowd had

gathered at Velyama gate in a mass show of opposition to the mine. The forest would be safe for today at least .

With little else to do, we lay in the bush and waited for the police response. Five hours later we

received word of multiple police cars and a police rescue truck headed for the site. Time dragged on. Unbeknownst to us, another protector had locked onto a cherry picker in the night and the

police were busy detaching them. They arrived soon enough, along with a gaggle of mine workers and site management, and proceeded to improvise by standing on an excavator blade to

retrieve our protector! The sitter had thrown their ropes over the top of the tripod and generally made an enormous tangle, so it took some time for the police rescue team to get them down

safely. Once the protector was down and arrested, the police and workers took off with the newly f reed cherry p icker in hot pursui t .

Arriving back at camp that afternoon there was a huge buzz. Some of the tripod teams had packed up minutes before police arrived, saving the apparatus for another day, and there was all

round agreement that it was a brilliant action, with on site work stopped for the day and some excel lent media coverage.

The company later claimed that the day had been a rostered day off and no work was scheduled. It seems odd that so many workers had turned up on an RDO. They must love their jobs so much they don’t mind putting in some unpaid overtime. Standard company practice is to downplay any

protest action. Every time there's an action they declare that there was no effect on the operation, and yet figures like $50 000 of lost productivity consistently pop up quietly on police charge

sheets. Admitting the true cost of ongoing action wouldn’t do their share price any favours .

During the long hot Australian summer the forest was being watched over, and preparations were being made. It had been a tense few months in the campaign for Leard state forest, an ecologically vital remnant Whitebox gum forest on the Liverpool plains of New South Wales, Australia. I came to the on-site camp to help actions designed to physically halt operation of the coal mine by (primarily) chaining and locking people ('protectors') in harms way of machinery using various home-made apparatus. We perform these actions repeatedly to protect as much forest as possib le by stopping as much 'work ' as possib le . Rumours had been circulating and each heavy truck that come by may have been the first in the inevitable stream of vehicles carrying buildings, machines, and equipment to begin the demolition of the forest and construction of Whitehaven Coal’s new Maules Creek mine. Not only will the mine destroy much of the forest, but the 30 million tonnes of CO2 released annually from it’s product will be on par with the annual emissions of the entire nation of New Zealand. When heavy machinery was spotted moving in on trucks, red alert was sent out to the networks of protectors that had built up throughout the campaign and a rolling blockade began. A 63 year old Tamworth man chained himself to a car at the gates, despite owning an engineering firm that sold equipment to the mines. Others blocked truck movements of a morning, locked themselves to excavators or tied themselves high up in treesits attached to machinery. Every night new actions were planned, and energy built as successes mounted. Protectors locked onto machines at dawn, confounding workers who arrived shortly afterwards to commence their day. The first action we were involved in locked up a specialised tree felling bulldozer for over half the day. Once the protector had been taken away by police we moved off through the forest only to halt, awestruck, at the sound of crashing timber nearby. We turned and moved back towards it expecting to come across the source within a couple of hundred metres. The sound of snapping timber and a roaring engine echoed through the forest. Half a kilometre later we saw a bright yellow beast moving through the forest pushing down fully grown whitebox, eucalypt and cypress trees as though they were matchsticks. It was clearing a path for a new road to bring in heavier equipment and speed the way of the da i ly s t ream of work vehic les . The contrast to our last v is i t was s tark .

After observing the behemoth for some time we headed back for camp. Away from the valley with the machines, the forest was peaceful. We followed wallaby trails as bird calls echoed through the trees. After a few hours walk we stopped for a break in a wallaby hideout. A handful of circular dirt pads had been worn under a canopy of shady bush. Having only snatched a couple of hours sleep on the forest floor the night before we soon drifted off. Coming to in the peace of the forest, it was hard to imagine our bush cubby being reduced to a dusty parce l of a i r tumbl ing around an enormous tox ic p i t .

We assembled in the early hours of the morning and headed out in the dark. Arriving near the site of the soon-to-be mine we unloaded our heavy cargo and set off into the night.