I trained as a science teacher at Sydney University in the 1960s but escaped the classroom early to work with kids in state museums in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane and also as a teacher-librarian. I retired in 2004 after 18 eventful years running the Queensland Museum’s state-wide loans service with the help of 60 volunteers.

The moment that I really ‘got it’ about climate change was in 2007…

I had just read the online report The Big Melt: Lessons from the Arctic summer of 2007 by David Spratt and Philip Sutton. The report was incorporated into their 2008 book Climate Code Red: the Case for Emergency Action. The book read like a dreadful thriller, its message made even more indelible by a comparison with the predicament posed by the disablement of Apollo 13, and mission control’s haunting words ‘failure is not an option’.

Over the next years John and my endeavours to act on climate change included small donations in support of the climate change work of numerous environmental societies.

We attended as many talks, rallies, marches, films and workshops as we heard about, signing petitions, writing submissions, helping Labor, and then, after massive disillusionment with Labor’s back flip, the Greens at election times.

Our first rally with 350.org was in Nelson, New Zealand during the Copenhagen talks. There were about 15 others. Despite the small local response with 350.org we felt part of a globally connected climate change community and particularly one engaged with young people.

Further 350.org involvements followed in Australia including our participation in the recent national day of divestment. My 96 year-old mother Nance Barker also decided to be part of the action.

My mother made quite an impression in her wheelchair as she closed her 70 year duration Commonwealth Bank account and opened a new account with the far more ethical Bendigo Bank.

An email alerted us to a 350.org information meeting backgrounding the Maules Creek ‘Act Ups’. We heard Ian describe what nonviolent direct action meant in relation to stopping the destruction of the biodiverse hotspot Leard Forest, by Whitehaven Coal in order to clear the land for the largest metallurgical coal mine in Australia.

The 2014 June long weekend offered a good opportunity for 350.org to mobilise members and friends to make a ‘coalruption convoy’ from Sydney to mount a protest.

We came from Brisbane and together with folk from other localities converged on the protest campsite Camp Wando on Cliff’s farm 6 kilometres from the Maules Creek site. The NSW convoy arrived as we put up our tents. A flurry of activity followed with a walk up nearby. From a craggy summit lookout we had a good view of the surrounding rural farms and in the glancing rays of a winter sunset we learnt of what was at stake with the clear felling of the critically endangered Grassy Whitebox woodland, and cultural heritage sites of the Gomeroi people; the traditional owners of the Leard State Forest.

There were around 200 in camp. We decided along with about 40 others to be in the band that would seek to trespass on Whitehaven Coal’s Maules Creek mine site to disrupt the logging operations knowing that if successful we would be arrested. Others planned to blockade a mine approach road.

Dinner was abuzz with folk meeting and sharing stories. There was a sense of anticipation and excitement.

For many of us this was our first foray into deliberate arrestable illegality. Further planning followed. Our band was asked to form sub groups to devolve care, making checking on each other and monitoring of the whole group easier. We chose ‘intrepid’ as our foursome’s name … fitting for the most senior of the smaller groups.

We put together our provisions for the next day in our back packs and set alarms for 1:30am. With a 2am start planned we realised that the moon would have set and we’d be walking in the dark.

The trip to the mine site had to be overland as the roads were policed on every approach. As our 12 kilometre route passed houses and crossed roads we had to walk in silence and without lights. Our timing was spot on. At dawn we crossed onto the mine site and past the Whitehaven Coal’s signage, warning of trespassing. Within minutes flickering orange lights announced the arrival of 2 ‘security’ utes. Both ‘sides’ knew their ‘rights’. The security guards could not touch us, just advise. We marched on shepherded by security fore and aft, stopping to plant eucalypt seedlings and greet the dawn with photographs of the landscape intact on one side of the road and levelled on the other.

We moved to a road junction attracting more security officers on all sides. They warned us to be careful, not to venture off the road in case we should trip. More sapling planting was accompanied by singing, a banner display and a bite to eat. Eventually three police vehicles arrived stimulating another round of photography on both ‘sides’.

We were charged with trespassing, our packs examined and as two Greenpeace paragliders sailed overhead, each of us was photographed, our details taken and, in groups, we were ferried off the site in paddywagons to a road junction near our camp. The entire 4 hour standoff was marked with civility touched with a cast of theatricality. John’s request for a senior’s discount on the fine was taken in good spirits.

How do you assess the impact of the protest? Social media, local media and some mainstream news outlets reported the action. The deforestation ceased the next week after the company was threatened with a court injunction. The fight will be back in court in September. Meanwhile the site is being thoroughly cleansed of trashed forest in preparation for explosion-driven excavation. The fight to save what remains of this unique forest is ongoing.

The experience left me convinced that physically taking a stand counts.

I feel it is a necessary frontline strategy to combat environmental injustice. For me it is the logical next line of action – a restorer of mental health in the face of so much frustration and it was fun.

Taking action has had a ripple effect. In my immediate circle of friends and relatives, taking direct action has raised awareness of the threat of coal mining. It has ivoked stimulating self-reflection in others leading to a reassessment of what getting arrested means.

My 70th birthday could not have been spent in a better way or for a better cause.

On a less personal level non-violent direct action definitely feeds the voracious media and brings wide awareness.

I cannot help but feel that the more the public hear stories from individuals at the protest line, the more n


on-violent direct actions will be seen as an effective, risk adverse and safe form of protest, especially for the retired who do not have the threat of a career being compromised by having a ‘record’.

We look forward to being part of further non-violent direct actions.