UNDERGROUND

New Zealand Listener, Volume 3, Issue 70, 25 October 1940, Page 16

UNDERGROUND

(By

Jack

HEN my mate, Tom Crean, and I went on shift one night at the Waihi mine some forty years ago, we had no more thought of danger than any of the thousands of miners who have done, and are still doing the same ordinary thing. Miners are like that. Consistently they flout the safety regulations, and confidently forget dangers that surround them. We descended to No. 5 level. Our job at the time was "rising" on the Martha to No. 4. That means we were "sinking" through the quartz, only upside down, to a height of about ninety feet before we could break through to the upper level. Even then it varied from six feet to twelve feet and was very irregular. This meant timber. Stulls across, and slabs to form a platform to work from, and the wider the span the more likely the next round of shots would bring down the whole of the timbering. (It is well to remark here that the only light in this dark cavern was from our two flickering candles.) At thirty feet up we ran up against a huge boulder and decided to work round it, leaving it projecting about three feet. Sometimes luck is not recognised at the time. At forty feet the going was more compact and we prepared a round of |

five holes, My mate went below, and I hauled up the five charges. I loaded the holes, and, when all was ready, spit the fuses. That was the time to get out as quickly as possible, as the stink of gelignite fumes and smoke soon filled the rise, not to mention the fact that delay might mean being blown to atoms. Only a few feet down I lost my candle, Instantly everything was in black darkness. Through the creeping smoke fumes I swung down feeling for remembered grips. I yelled to Tom for a light, but he did not hear me. As I swung down frantically -waving my legs for a foothold I felt that big boulder and regained my bearings somewhat. Hastily scrambling under its partial protection I clung like a leech with sudden death only ten feet above. Bang went the first shot. Down crashed rock and timber, the concussion pressing me against the wall in comforting caress. Instantly a feeble light appeared through the murk far below, and Tom yelled, "On top." (The usual hail underground.) I jumped. I think Tom got a greater scare than I did. A smashed thumb and a few cuts were the sum total, unless you count a life that has been happy enough since. That's all