Going Nuclear in the Outback

The Outback majors on crazy towns. Tiny communities, stranded in an inland sea of sand and scrub, hundreds of miles from anywhere. Yet even after the Martian landscape of Coober Pedy, Woomera, South Australia, is pretty special.

Woomera sits on the edge of a bona fide nuclear wasteland: the Woomera Prohibited Zone, a landscape more blasted than heath, which skirts the made road for hundreds of kilometres and stretches far, far back into the wastes.

Prohibited? Hell, yeah. It’s prohibited because, with the Cold War at its hottest, when the British and Australian governments wanted a handy space in which to test their nukes, Woomera was where they chose.

Unfortunate, really, for the Indigenous people whose land this was. They wandered the desert, right through the 1950s, hunting, gathering, pretty much untouched, living in camps, enjoying life on a land so barren that not even the most land-grabbing of pastoralists had pushed them further into the interior.

Then two towns sprang up, out of nowhere. Woomera, and Roxby Downs, 90-odd k further up a newly built road, to, well, nowhere. Not a problem. Plenty of room for all…

And then they started testing.

Missile Park in Woomera, South Australia

They were bright as a million suns, some of these bombs. Sprouting giant mushrooms out of dark desert dust, clouding the sky.

In their wake? Strange visitations. Falling hair. Bleeding gums. Burn marks on the skin. Animals with strange diseases. Sicknesses which the Elders couldn’t name…

How many died? Nobody knows.

Australian Indigenous people didn’t count as citizens or make it onto censuses until the 1960s. Only the whites counted enough to be, well, counted.

So, to the defence forces and aerospace companies who still make up the essence of Woomera’s population, the Simpson Desert was, like Bikini Atoll, as good as empty.

It’s still here, Woomera. Still alive. A strange little place. A company town. Slabbed out of breezeblock, red brick and corrugated iron to house rocket scientists, physicists, engineers, with missile models soaring over the town, the crumpled remains of test launches and satellites housed in their own barbed wire cages, airbrushed murals of Indigenous kids and rich violet sunsets descending over the Mad Max flatlands.

crumpled remains of missile testing in Woomera, South Australia, behind wire fence

There’s an optimism about it, despite its dark past. A 50s Americana feel to it, as though transplanted from suburban Vegas to the planet’s expansive south, or borrowed from The Truman Show. Wide, expansive, weirdly empty streets draw dust devils from the badlands which stretch out into infinity: gums and acacia wilt and choke, piny in the heat.

Woomera Pool against a bright blue sky, South Australia

A huge, blue pool, big enough for the town’s entire population of 350 to use at once, lies empty behind a 50s retro bright white frontage. The town theatre shows animated films weekly when the school is open.

It’s the sort of place where one might, without entire irony, Hoover on Benzedrine, take the edge off with Valium, then craft a Jello salad, awaiting the return of one’s chopper pilot husband from another secret mission into the desert…

What else? Two museums (one closed, both with extensive theodolite displays), a bowling alley, a diner, gift shop, a hotel (with “Night Shift” signs in lieu of do not disturb”), and, of course, the missile park…

An odd one, the missile park. Though some of the technology built here is used for satellites now, and all of it was pioneering in its day, it’s odd to see such an unashamed celebration of, well, weapons of mass destruction.

They tower over you, some of them. Skylark, like a bright red lippie rolled up to the blue sky, baking in the broiling sun where playing fields watered to a hallucinatory Technicolor green run down to the desert expanse.

Z scampers to an old Qantas plane, from the days when the name stood for Queensland and the Northern Territory. He hops into the gunner’s seat of a WWII Bofors. Poses for photos laying down anti-aircraft fire in the sky…

Z pretending to fire a WWII Bofors gun, Woomera, South Australia

The lady who runs the general store came to Woomera from Northern Ireland in the early 70s. And, like a lot of folk, she’s still here. Still got her accent, though the kids and grandkids are Aussies through and through.

She’s keen to talk. Who wouldn’t be?

“Are you new here?” she asks. “Or are you just passing through?”

“Just passing through,” I say. “We came from Alice Springs, stayed at the Eldo, headed for Adelaide.”

I scope her stock. It’s surprising. And not just because of the shiny array of subsidised fruit and veg.

There’s an epic array of magazines devoted to quilting, sewing, patchwork, even spinning: more than you’d find in your average major mall bookstore. I guess that’s what the women do, out here in the heat when the men are at work, the telly begins to pall and it’s too early to start drinking.

I’m headlong into the Gibber Gabber, the local newsletter, named for the type of desert in which Woomera sits. It leads, like other Outback news offerings I’ve absorbed along this trip, with Santa’s arrival in town last month. Progresses to years in review, meditative, op-ed pieces by luminaries such as the Head of Base Support for British Aerospace…

In the book selection at the giftshop, I pore over thee oeuvre of local hero Len Beadell, author of Bush Bashers, Blast the Bush, Beating About the Bush, Too Long in the Bush and (yes, really) Still in the Bush, who explored and built roads across much of the surrounding desert, naming them for his family.

He’s fighting for shelf space with Tom Clancy and SAS veteran Andy McNab. Nothing on John McDouall Stuart, the first known explorer to have crossed the continent from South to North. Though there’s some fabulous teatowels for the ladies, and my mother can’t resist.

Tea towel featuring a missile launching, branded Woomera, South Australia

Back at the store, the noticeboard has its own tale to tell. No yoga, wellness or spiritual healing here, though someone has lost four parrots and is hoping they can be found. It’s a garage sale gone micro. Completely bonkers.

One guy, who’s finally leaving town, is flogging off some rifles and ammo from his extensive collection, not to mention a fishing rod (barely used!). An optimist wants twenty-five bucks for his computer case (no innards)…

The barman at the Eldo Hotel came here from Adelaide and has been here, he tells me, for four whole years. “Does it ever get busy in here?” I ask him, looking around the passers-through who cluster in groups before the big picture windows.

“Sometimes,” he says. “When the defense force are in town. Some days, you can barely see across the room.”

“Do you get a lot of girls out then?” I ask, thinking of the slappers who cluster round every British military base in the country, looking for a soldier.

He looks at me. There aren’t many girls in Woomera. There’s not much of anything in Woomera. But it’s a fascinating place to be, when you’re passing through.

17 Responses

  1. My husband would LOVE this place. He really digs anything industrial, anything involving weapons, and anything with piles of metal scraps scattered at random.

    (He was in the Navy for four years so at least some of that is justified!)

    • admin says:

      Now, I would never have had you pinned as married to a Navy guy! But, yes, he would love the place. He’d probably adore both the museums, too…

  2. Justin says:

    What an odd place… I’m reading all of your Australian stories as I’ll be there in 2 1/2 short months…

    • admin says:

      There are some crazy places. The big don’t miss of the Red Centre? Kings Canyon is the most amazing and spiritual place. Also Kata Tjutas over Uluru, amazing walks…. I need to write the trip to the Red Centre up at some point, hopefully soon…

  3. Amanda says:

    This is a GREAT piece of travel writing.

    You’ve really captured Woomera as it is.

    Woomera always reminds me of a suburb of Canberra, transported into the middle nowhere. Couldn’t believe it when I first laid eyes on it. Swore I was back home!

    Have stayed at the Eldo, too, on a number of occasions on our way to and from Alice Springs. I have seen the Eldo’s bar and restaurant absolutely chockers (that’s full, for those who don’t speak Australian). But with elderly tourists!

    Was lectured by an old guy who told me that Saturday afternoon trading was destroying Australian society.

    Bad news is: if you want yoga, you’ll have to go to Coober Pedy.

    Believe it or not, the townsfolk in Coober Pedy sponsored a guy to do yoga teacher training a few years ago. They raised enough money to send him to Byron Bay, so they could finally have yoga in the town. (I did the same yoga teacher training course, which is how I came upon this story).

    Conversely, you could head up the road to Roxby Downs. They have an amazing leisure centre, and even have Pump and Body Balance. Which make me one happy gal when I visit (brother-in-law and family live in Roxby).

    Of course, Roxby doesn’t have the 1950s retro feel that Woomera has. But it does hold the distinction of having a entire cemetery … with not one single person buried in it.

    Make sure you write those Central Australia posts sometime 🙂

    • Theodora says:

      Thanks for your lovely comment! We never made it up to Roxby Downs, I must confess — I’d have loved to, though. But I can well imagine there being yoga in Coober Pedy — there’s definitely a need for it. I’ll try and think of a way I can work Central Australia in… Problem is, it’s so hard to keep up with the experiences as you write about them.

  4. Nicole says:

    This is really bad coming from a South Aussie born and raised but I didn’t know we had this at Woomera! Must take a trip out there. Thanks! 🙂

    • Theodora says:

      You’ve got a lot of undiscovered gems out there, Nicole. My aunt and cousin live in Adelaide, so we saw a bit of SA while we were there over Christmas…

  5. I would be interested in visiting here – given my love for quirky places.

  6. Jim says:

    Well written Theodora. So any research done on the effects of the testing among the native population? Did they even bother to clear them from the testing area?

    • Theodora says:

      Thanks, Jim. Yes, the local Aboriginal population were, in theory, moved from the test site. But a lot of them suffered radiation exposure — as did servicemen involved in the test. A compensation deal was agreed in 1994: a bit more on this here http://www.abc.net.au/btn/story/s2905943.htm. And they’ve also cleaned up the site so the land can, in theory, be returned to the Maralinga people, who have like all Indigenous, a unique relationship to their lands…

  7. Skylarker says:

    Skylark was an upper atmosphere sounding rocket,my involvement with it and Woomera,
    four happy visits in the mid-70’s.Skylark was used to gather scientific data for Solar,Stellar, Met. studies etc.We used the
    ELDO mess ,as it was then, movies once a week in the upstair lounge,ties to be worn. The Olympic sized pool,long gone, being very popular in temperatures often in 40’s.More than a few schooners were sunk in the Bowler’s,we were made most welcome by the steward and his son.
    Regular flights to & from Adelaide, courtesy of Reggie Ansett & Co, the Fokker was always chocker! A host of some very nice folk,often made it difficult to leave.Funny to view the old sights ,now, on Google Earth. Nobody I met had any connection with Nuclear goings-on.Happy days.

  8. Skylarker says:

    Of course the Fokker referred to being an F-27
    Fokker Friendship.

  9. Rose says:

    I lived here for 13 years … start of ’82 – end of ’93. I couldn’t have asked for A BETTER environment to grow and go through the teen years. When I was there there was over 1,000 school students between the two schools. St. Joseph’s Catholic Primary School and Woomera Area School. Where else can you leave your doors unlocked and the kids stay home after school by themselves until the parents came home. Where else could you WANDER the streets and still feel so very safe even walking ON the road… Its a small town with a HUGE HEART. even now in its bear minimal amount of population…. MANY OF WHO I GREW UP WITH. Its still a place that is close to my heart… and really UNLESS you have lived it…loved it and EXPERIENCED it.. you will never fully understand how this town grabs hold of you and STAYS STUCK! You literally can take the person out of Woomera.. you will NEVER get the WOOMERA out of the person!NEVER!
    SHE IS MY HOME… no matter how far life takes me away from her… SHE WILL ALWAYS have my heart! Rosemary Coates

    • Annette Winfield says:

      I cannot agree with you more! Our family still reminises fondly of our time in Woomera. We were there just as the area was closing down. My kids were 7 and 11 and playing out on the donga was one of their favorite pastimes. I loved riding my bike, hanging out at the school and helping with the Joey scouts. We traveled everywhere from Adelaide to Wyalla, Coober Peddy to Uluru. Great memories.

  10. Jason Ball says:

    A nice ‘fanciful’ bit of writing, and terrific pictures.

    While Woomera (town) has a connection to Maralinga Nuclear test site (500kms away), the way you have written it is largely incorrect (but let’s not let truth get in the way of what is a good story!).

    Woomera was set up to be an ICBM rocket testing facility for a collection of Western European countries yes, led by British Aerospace & Australia, as Europe fell further and further behind in the Nuclear Arms race.

    All staffed up & ready to go, ICBM’s became obsolete before it could begin & they were not set up / tooled for new development. And so after 6mths on full pay, most of the new staff were sent home, with those remaining re tasked with testing Engines & rockets for Satalite technology. So the link to Nuclear really is light, at least to the town. There’s Roxby Downs (Uranium) and the involvement of the US Airforce, to add to the story of course, but the stories of scorched wastelands belong 500km or more to the West.