#9 Reminiscing about the Nullarbor

#9 The Nullarbor Song – Kasey Chambers 2000

If I lost some of you with “Kashmir” yesterday, I might lose others today for a completely different reason. I’m going to write about a song you’ve probably never heard that’s about a place you may never have heard of. But first, a bit of geography.

In Australia, the Nullarbor (from the Latin “null” = “no” and “arbor” = “tree”) is about 77,000 square miles of mostly treeless, semi-arid country in southern Australia, the largest single exposure of limestone bedrock in the world. It extends from the state of South Australia to the state of Western Australia. It was originally called “Oondiri” (“the waterless”) by the indigenous people who lived there. At the western end, you can find the 2.5-million-acre Rawlinna Station, the largest sheep station in the world, and it extends to the east roughly to the South Australia town of Ceduna.

I lived near the western end in a settlement called Eucla (if you don’t already know). The place used to be a “town” when a telegraph station existed there. When I was there (1999-
The Nullarbor from the air
2001), there was a roadhouse with a motel, camper park, restaurant, café, and gas station, along with a weather station, a police station, a clinic staffed by a trauma nurse, and an agricultural station that monitored and searched for non-native species of plants and animals. I think the most people who lived there in the nearly 2 years I was there was about 60 – that’s federal and state personnel who staffed those agencies and their families, plus roadhouse staff and the family who owned the roadhouse. We got our electricity from alternating generators, hot water with the help of tanks of natural gas, and the water was claimed from a desalination plant. We had three television stations, no mobile service, and all emergency services were volunteer (except for the nurse). I loved it there. After working my shift at the roadhouse, I would wander or drive around, taking photos, publish the monthly newsletter, stand in as public relations for the police and emergency services, and there was always some kind of barbecue or get-together. The closest town (haircut, grocery store, bakery) was more than 5 hours away.


Now that we have some perspective, let me introduce you briefly to Kasey Chambers. She is an Australian country singer/songwriter whose whole family is now in the music business. When she was young, for about 9 years, Chambers, her brother, and parents lived on the Nullarbor while the parents hunted rabbits and foxes (both introduced species) for their pelts. In the “hot months” – roughly November to March – she and her brother went to school in South Australia where her parents had a fish and chips shop. She has released 12 studio albums and received numerous awards, including an induction into the ARIA (Australian Recording Industry Association) Hall of Fame in 2018.

A friend who had virtually grown up in Eucla introduced me to the song after attending a Chambers’ concert. It was on my mind in 2001, when I moved to Kalgoorlie/Boulder more than 500 miles away. I made a few trips back to Eucla after the move, but as I was packing up and selling most of my things to move back to the U.S. in 2006, it was on my mind again. One night in Eucla, the generator stopped running. The few streetlights and the lights in the few houses all went out. There was no traffic on the Eyre Highway (Highway 1), just a few yards from our house. The constant drone of the generator, which we all just tuned out as we went about our lives, was suddenly gone. I stepped out of the front door into the deafening quiet, and the spiral arm of the Milky Way splashed across the sky more clearly and bright than I had ever seen before (or since).

Whenever I listen to this song, I remember the spinifex, the lone train line 75 miles to the north, the mulga trees, the kangaroos, feral cats (some as big as bob cats) and feral camels, the Southern Ocean with its sharks and right whales, and the wide expanse that was my home, that dared me to live there another day, that showed me its beauty and its terror if I would just look.

When the fire burns out here
It's brighter than the city lights
Warmer than a heart of gold
And dingo's howl just to break the silence
The sun comes up just to break the cold
Sunset on the western edge of the Nullarbor

Last night I woke
With the stars looking back at me
Swallowing the sky
I felt no anger, I felt no shame
I felt no reason to cry

If I'm not here in the morning
I'll cry a river of tears
But I'll learn to live in a new town
But my heart is staying here

When it's quiet out here
A hundred miles away
You can hear the train on the line
The whistle blows just to break the silence
I wave just to break the time

I close my eyes
I think of runnin' water
I think of runnin' away
But the fires burnt to ashes
And it's darker than before
But I can see as clear as day


Give it a listen and tell me what you think.

Spotify: Nullarbor -- Kasey Chambers

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