Power From the Snow
BY AWAKE! CORRESPONDENT IN AUSTRALIA
SOMETIMES called the roof of Australia, the Australian Alps straddle the states of New South Wales and Victoria. Within these alps lie the Snowy Mountains, the source of the Snowy River. Inspired by this rugged alpine terrain and its tough, pioneering horsemen, A. B. (Banjo) Paterson penned the poem, later made into a movie, “The Man From Snowy River.”
Nowadays, however, the treacherous slopes of the legendary horseman’s ride house the sluices of a technological wonder—the Snowy Mountains Hydro-electric Scheme. In 1967 the American Society of Engineers rated this complex network of aqueducts, tunnels, dams, and power stations as “one of the seven engineering wonders of the modern world.” Would you like to visit this alpine “wonder”? First, though, let’s see why it was built and who built it.
A Thirsty Land
Surprisingly, hydropower never even entered the minds of the early settlers whose yearnings were the harbingers of the Scheme. Battered by droughts, those 19th-century farmers of the Murray-Darling basin, Australia’s most important farming area, simply wanted a more reliable water supply.
They knew where the water was—in the Snowy River. But the Snowy plunged down the other, lush side of the alps into the Tasman Sea. It seemed a prodigal waste. If, high in the alps, this cold, pure water could be redirected into the headwaters of the rather fickle Murray and Murrumbidgee rivers, farmers would have a billion-dollar buffer against drought. It was a tantalizing dream.
In 1908 the dream came a step closer to realization when the Federal Parliament chose the nearby district of Canberra as the site for Australia’s national capital. Would hydropower meet the needs of this yet-to-be-built city? Once again, eyes turned to the Snowy Mountains.
Various proposals—some for hydropower and others for irrigation—were presented and scrapped. Then, in 1944, the first hydroelectric-irrigation scheme was submitted, and it quickly won favor. In 1949 the federal government commissioned the Snowy Mountains Hydro-electric Authority with the responsibility of designing and building the dual scheme.
But how would a young, essentially agricultural nation without expertise or spare manpower tackle a project that was without precedent in magnitude and complexity?
From Ashes to Snow
The answer was immigration. Still reeling from World War II, Europe was a nightmare of ashes, unemployment, and homelessness. So in conjunction with the United Nations, Australia invited any Europeans with the required skills to apply to work on the Scheme.
In response, tens of thousands of workers from about 33 countries left the ashes of Europe and set sail for Australia. They would make up two thirds of the Scheme’s entire work force, and they would also change Australia’s human face forever. Says Brad Collis in his book Snowy: “A country founded on . . . British stock almost overnight became one of the world’s great pancultures.” Collis adds: “[The men] were sent into the mountains—enemy and ally, oppressor and victim—to work together.” Though they did not blend together as a team overnight, they did in time.
Life in the Alps
In the early days of the Scheme, the trip into the alps provided a dubious welcome. Icy, muddy, steeply inclined, and tortuous tracks made the trip a slow, spine-jarring experience. Indeed, in some parts the terrain was so precipitous and unforgiving that even kangaroos were a rare sight! Little wonder that the Snowy Authority, according to Collis, “is reputed to have been the first organisation in the world to introduce the compulsory wearing of seatbelts.”
The accommodations were hardly better than the roads—army-surplus tents with no flooring! Eventually, over 100 camps and tent cities sprang up like mushrooms high in the ranges. One of these, Cabramurra—no longer a tent city—boasts the distinction of being the highest township in Australia.
As you can imagine, working and sleeping in these austere, rugged conditions tested one’s mettle to the limit. Winter blizzards ate into the bones, summer’s sapping heat made every move an effort, and clouds of insufferable flies blackened sweating faces and backs. How the Europeans loathed the flies!
But most stuck it out. War-hardened and tough, they were determined to make a success of their new life. Many even became fond of the undisciplined Australian bush, with its strange creatures and snakes and its birds that screech and squawk rather than whistle and chirp. In time, modest wooden homes replaced tents, and wives and children arrived.
But what to do about the many languages? Imagine men operating heavy machines and drilling rigs or working with explosives who were unable to communicate clearly! It was a recipe for disaster, so the Authority instituted free, after-hours, English-language classes. Continued employment was contingent upon workers’ being able to meet a basic level of language skill, so it’s no surprise that classes were well attended!
In spite of so many obstacles, after 25 years—1949 to 1974 —the project ended on time and within budget. The $820-million cost, though modest by today’s standards, was anything but modest back then, especially to a nation of only eight million that was still struggling to get back on its feet after the war.
In celebration of the achievement, the Authority is now planning a 50-year anniversary for 1999. It will include a reunion of all who worked on the project—if they can be found. “These people helped to build one of the engineering wonders of the world and changed the course of Australia’s history,” says the current commissioner. “We want to thank them.”
The Scheme’s Size and Capacity
According to the brochure The Power of Water, “the Scheme operates over an area of 3 200 square kilometres [1,200 square miles] and includes 80 kms [50 miles] of aqueducts, 140 kms [87 miles] of tunnels and 16 large dams.” These dams store two thousand billion gallons [7,000 gigaliters] of water—13 times the capacity of Sydney Harbor, which holds about 140 billion gallons [530 gigaliters]—with Lake Eucumbene being the main reservoir. The seven power stations, which have produced up to 6,400 gigawatt-hours of electricity in a year, can contribute up to 17 percent of the power needs of mainland Southeast Australia, including Sydney, Melbourne, and Canberra.
The turbines do not normally run 24 hours a day, except during daily periods of high demand, when thermal power stations need assistance. Hydropower is especially suitable for peak-hour support because of its quick response to sudden increases in demand—two to three minutes, compared with several hours for a coal-fired system to come on-line.
How the Snowy Scheme Works
The Scheme, says the Snowy Authority, has the “distinction of being the most complex, multi-purpose, multi-reservoir hydro scheme in the world.” It consists of two integrated components—the Snowy-Murray development and the Snowy-Tumut development.
The Snowy-Murray development diverts the waters of the Snowy River from the Island Bend Dam through a transmountain tunnel to Geehi Dam, which also gets water from the Geehi River. From here the water plummets 2,700 feet [820 m] to the two Murray power stations. At the same time, Guthega Power Station taps the Snowy’s headwaters near Australia’s highest mountain, Mount Kosciusko. From Guthega, the water pours into the main tunnel system at Island Bend. Adding greatly to the Scheme’s flexibility, a number of tunnels, including the Island Bend-Lake Eucumbene tunnel, permit two-way flow.
At the Snowy-Tumut development, water from Lake Eucumbene, Tooma Dam, Happy Jack’s Dam, and Tumut Pond Dam rushes downhill through sluices and a series of four power stations before being released into the Tumut River, a tributary of the Murrumbidgee. This section boasts the largest power station, Tumut 3, whose six sluices could each house a double-deck bus!
During off-peak hours, the Scheme also pumps water uphill from Lake Jindabyne into Lake Eucumbene, and from below Tumut 3 Power Station, which doubles as a pumping station, to Talbingo Reservoir. But why waste electricity pumping water uphill? For profit, surprisingly. The pumps, you see, run on cheap, off-peak power purchased from the thermal stations. Then, during peak hours, the water is released again and the hydroelectricity created is sold back to the grid at a profit. Of course, the bulk of the water—over 500 billion gallons [2,000 gigaliters] annually—is released without charge into the western river systems.
Is It Clean Power?
Yes, for water is a nonpolluting, renewable resource with no waste products. No unsightly smokestacks and cooling towers spoil the alps. Thus, the thousands who ski this alpine playground in winter or hike its trails in summer are hardly aware of the arteries and power stations beneath them.
Furthermore, if the electricity generated by the Scheme were to come from thermal plants, an additional five million metric tons of carbon dioxide would pour into the atmosphere each year.
Still, the environment did not escape entirely unscathed, especially the Snowy River. With much of its water redirected, it is a mere trickle compared with its former days. Additionally, the Scheme’s big dams inundated some grasslands, and their new high-water lines meant that the towns of Adaminaby and Jindabyne had to be relocated.
On the other hand, the Snowy Scheme has been exceptionally reliable—testimony to the sage advice of the Authority’s first commissioner: “Goodwill and respect come from achievement, not propaganda.”
[Picture Credit Line on page 16]
All photos on pages 16-19: Snowy Mountains Hydro-electric Authority
[Picture on page 16]
Aerial view of Tumut 3 Power Station, the largest station in the Snowy Scheme
[Picture on page 18]
Workers had to endure rugged living conditions
[Picture on page 18]
To blend together as a team, workers had to learn English
[Picture on page 19]
Construction of the Scheme included building tunnels through the mountains