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	* THE
	* CYBERSENIOR
	* REVIEW
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VOLUME 2 NUMBER 3                        JULY 1995
===================================================
The CyberSenior Review is a project of the Internet
Elders List, an active world-wide Mailing List for
seniors. The Review is written, edited and published
by members of the Elders for interested netizens
worldwide.

Contents copyrighted 1995 by the Internet Elders List
and by the authors. All rights reserved by the authors.
Quoting is permitted with attribution.

The editorial board of The CyberSenior Review:

Elaine Dabbs edabbs@extro.ucc.su.oz.au
Pat Davidson patd@chatback.demon.co.uk
James Hursey jwhursey@cd.columbus.oh.us
======================================================
CONTENTS, Volume 2, Number 3, July 1995

EDITORIAL by Jim Hursey

I WASN'T BORN IN TEXAS BUT I GOT THERE JUST AS QUICK AS I COULD 
by Zvonko Springer of Oak Hill.
    Our inimitable Zvonko tells how he became the first European 
    SeniorNetter and of his visit to Texas, where he meets our
    Langston.

A CARIBBEAN CRUISE by Frank Harper
    For those sun-starved by the northern winter, Frank expounds
    on the romantic and epicurean delights of Caribbean cruising.

THE OPALS OF COOBER PEDY by Elaine Dabbs
    Elaine takes us to the remote opal-mining town of Coober Pedy,
    on the way to a journey across Australia's forbidding Simpson 
    Desert 


====================================================================

EDITORIAL
By Jim Hursey

While the ripe delicious local strawberries are now sadly gone with June, in their place the first summer tomatoes have become available at roadside stands and local produce merchants. I am not sure which is best, but the tomatoes last longer and will now be available for the rest of the summer. When combined with fresh basil growing in our little balcony herb garden, nothing could be better. Until, perhaps, the local sweet corn ripens and claims its place among summer goodies later in August.

Celebrating these long lazy summer days, this issue of The Review is all devoted to travel as we present three new travel pieces by our far-ranging sojourners: we have a European visiting Texas; an Australian visiting the Outback of that island continent; and a Canadian cruising the Caribbean.

Of course we must remember that this is a world-wide global village and our many friends from the southern half of the globe are now in the chill of winter, but they will again get their turn in six months as the earth wobbles it's way eternally around the sun. Thus they can read this issue with anticipation.

So sit back, whether winter or summer where you live, and travel the world in this sixth quarterly edition of The CyberSenior Review.

=====================================================================

I WASN'T BORN IN TEXAS BUT I GOT THERE JUST AS QUICK AS I COULD
by Zvonko Springer of Oak Hill.

I read in SeniorNet Newsline of March 1993 about a first OnLine 
mailbox address accessible via Internet to AOL.  It was just an
address, nothing else about who is there behind this codename.  I
composed a letter and sent it off into CyberSpace from one of the
consoles at COSY laboratories. This was the first e-mail to
Nacogdoches SeniorNet Members, although I knew not where or to whom it
was going.

"Dear Nacogdoches' SeniorNet members!
I have found your e-mail address in SeniorNet Newsline of March
1993 as one of AOL Online mailbox for computer networks... 
My e-mailbox is with the Faculty of Natural Sciences, the 
Department of Computer Science and Systems Analysis (COSY) in 
Salzburg, Austria. I am on my 5th year of study there as 
guest-student, as I already have an academic degree.
Please, acknowledge the receipt of this message asap. Also, 
please let me know about any Member who would like to keep a contact
with "a lonesome SeniorNet whizkid" of '68' with white hair (still
some!) being so faraway overseas in Europe. 
I remain with my sincerest 'digital' regards..."

On my next visit to COSY, there was a reply waiting for me already. I
responded immediately. It just happened to be the First of April. I
responded to Nacogdoches' SeniorNet members Langston Kerr and others,
telling something of my background. I was most delighted to be awoken
from my lonesome existence as the SeniorNet's only overseas member.  

I started my rather late study at the COSY in 1988. At that time, COSY
was just a trial course at the University of Salzburg. Since 1991
COSY's courses are considered fully acceptable for an academic career.
The first graduates are due soon but I will remain as COSY's oldest
'old house' for a while.

After sending my reply, the first thing I did was find out where
Nacogdoches could be in Texas. I found it on a National Geographic
Society map "The Making of America--Texas," with a description
starting: "Spain selected a Nacogdoches Indian village site for a
mission in  1776, but permanent colonial settlement dates from
1779..." 

About my own background: I was born in Osijek, then Yugoslavia, the
town under 10 months siege by Serbs in 1991-1992. The town of Vukovar
is 30 km away only and was destroyed and occupied by Serbs in
Novemeber 1991. We are Croats which was a reason for the many troubles 
during WW2 and even more after that. The three us got out of
Yugoslavia at last in 1961. Our daughter Vesna (a Gemini, 1954), my
wife Ljiljana (a Taurus) and I (a Gemini too) left that doomed
country. 

After our few e-mail exchanges with Nacogdoches, there came a long
interruption in our communication. First came my hospitalization,
followed by a period of convalescence and training at home. Some six
weeks after the surgery, I got in my car and drove to COSY sending a
batch of e-mails, writing into the CyberSpace that I am back OnLine.
The dependence on driving to and from COSY to e-mail made me furious.

Thus, I bought my first modem coinciding with our telephone sub-
exchange station being 'digitalized' a few months later. I could fit 
the wiring for it only after the installation of new plugs (with 
interfaces for ISDN). Still, the service doesn't allow using PC+MODEM 
without a registration including a high fee -- again too much for a 
retired 'gentleman of leisure'.

In the meantime, Nacogdoches SeniorNet Chapter elected me as their 
first "honorary member" -- considering that I am SeniorNet's *only 
overseas member*. 

On December 31, 1993, we lost our dog Lares, a four-and-a-half-year-
old Doberman, the last of the many beloved canine friends we had kept 
in our forty years of marriage, but consoled outselves that the way 
would now be open to travel more freely. It was at that time that I 
came up with the idea of 'VeTx,' a visit to Nacogdoches. At first, I 
didn't dare to say anything to my wife (alias 'LJ') but the secret e-
mail planning was already underway.

By early June, I had about 70 e-mails with Nacogdoches and the plan 
for 'VeTx' was perfect and preparation in full swing. We boarded a 
plane in Salzburg some 18 months after my first e-mail contact with 
the Nacogdoches Chapter, leaving Oak Hill on September 20th for 
Houston. We knew that Langston and Marie would wait for us. We had L's 
snapshot hoping we would recognize them. I even had my Nacogdoches 
SeniorNet cap on too. 

Texas! We finally got there, a bit tired and with indeterminable 
expectations! We recognized L and M immediately, and they did the 
same. For a moment they were not sure how to speak to LJ. Their 
concern was that LJ doesn't 'speech' in English. Who knows LJ a little 
bit would not fret at all. She managed well on any souk (market) in 
the Sudan or Kenya or elsewhere in Africa. LJ had her worst problems 
of a mutual understanding in Japanese shops. There, even LJ had 
capitulated. 

The conversation went on rather lively, despite tiredness, during the 
two hour drive to Holly Springs.  We finally got to bed at about 
eleven pm local time. It was high time for us after being up for 24 
hours. 

Next morning, we dawdled around Holly Spings, the fish pond, and 
befriended L's dog Lobo. Langston drove us four on a short sightseeing 
tour of Nacogdoches. I stirred up some confusion in L's bank trying to 
cash a Swiss Bank cheque. The Bank manager offered a solution by 
charging L's account with the amount. I wonder whether Langston got 
that amount back in his account -- and when?  

Next day then, came the foreboding time to drive to the Thorsten Eye 
Clinic. Luckily not for a treatment but to attend Chapter's General 
Meeting. We were introduced to some 40 Members, few of whom I did know 
already from e-mail. After some small talk and snacks Langston started 
the introduction speech. He explained our communication using bytes 
and ASCII characters via CyberSpace. He welcomed Zvonko and Ljiljana 
to Nacogdoches wishing us full success with the 'VeTX.' He invited me 
to address the congregation suggesting that I keep my oration to say 
20 minutes. Oh, how could he 'cut short' time for my address, I 
pondered?

Well, I started it with a warning: my life is a rather complex one.  
After that introduction I started talking and talked on -- looked 
around at the eyes of my listeners to see whether they were still 
attentive -- evading contact with either LJ or L (where were they?). 
Then, suddenly I realized that the alloted time must have passed some 
time ago. I ended my speech at last. All were still alive and active 
-- despite my tripling the alloted 20 minutes. 

The next day, Langston drove us to Garison township where we visited a 
few shops including the oldest grocery shop of Texas. We met several 
of L's friends and his teacher too. After a 'salad lunch', we toured 
some few historical monuments in Nacogdoches and visited several 
cemeteries: North Church, Texas' oldest of 1836; another, still in 
use, where L's parents and grand-parents were interred; and the 
graveyard near Appleby and the Kerr family's recent tombs. We also 
went around the Cedar Bluff School built by L's grandfather and where 
L's mother was teaching too. (Langston writes about this school, 
starting in CyberSenior Review Volume 2, Number 1.--Ed.) 

After returning to the Holly Springs, we all deserved and ate the 
Texan exquisite watermelons as much as we dared. Even Lobo got his 
share too, astonishing Langston. A dog eating watermelons? Quite 
normal for us because all our Dobermanns liked very much many 
different fruits. 

Next day we left L&M's house with the confidence that we would 
accomplish the next part of 'VeTx' with 'no problems'. I got from 
Nacogdoches to Appleby and Holy Springs driving for the first time on 
my own. LJ was a brave and good companion all this time as well as 
through the rest of the nine days of our tour. Sometimes, we 
recollected our trips on East African roads (in Kenya, Uganda and 
Tanzania) in our 1964 VW 'Beetle'. What a difference it was -- after 
about 30 years! Nine days later, we were back sound and safe to Holly 
Springs.    

We had left Holly Springs with larger part of our baggage including my 
camera and camcorder. Marie added some biscuits, tins and drinks. One 
never knows in advance in what kind of situations one could get on 
such a long travel, isn't that right? 

We found that part of Texas rather green and lush and crossed several 
rivers and passed by many bogs and marshes to get to pastures and 
farmlands. We knew Texas (from movies etc.) as a dry, rocky and desert 
like countrysides and LJ cherished the "green" stretches in 
particular. 

Another kind of object drew our attention. We passed so many 
'Historical Markers' and 'Historical Sites' on our first day. We 
stopped to read a marker text or study such a site a few times only. 
Later, we just drove on because such stops couldn't add more to what 
we knew about Texas in general. 

After Austin and the "bat colony," we found "The Faust" hotel in New 
Braunfels, declared a National Historic Building. Despite Faust's many 
renovations and overhauls, the electric wiring for the modern hotel 
was fixed all over room walls, the plugs well concealed. How to find
out where to plug in my elect-razor or CamCorder transformer? It 
needed a thorough investigation, believe me! 

We also recollect the Faust as the hotel offering the smallest of all 
Continental breakfasts in Texas, and I left the hotel hungry the next 
morning. LJ didn't take much notice of it at all -- all her thoughts 
were possessed by the forthcoming shopping.

On our way southwards to San Antonio, we sidetracked to visit the 
Natural Bridge Caverns. <20>MDBO<42><4F>MDNM<4E> Our experience visiting caves in Europe 
played a prank with us: we took our wind-breaker into the cave. 
Consider a steep descent and ascent (some 150 feet) on wet steps and 
100% humidity. How we did perspire! Could you keep a CamCorder steady 
and press the right button when sweat droplets flow between scarce hair, down your face? 

On the 'historic' day of September 27th, we joined the 'grand tour of 
San Antonio' lasting over eight hours. It turned out to be the crown 
of 'VeTx'. On the tour we visited ten places, including a buffet-lunch 
at the Hotel Menger. What should I write about? Sure, we liked most 
the 'Riverboat Ride' taking some very good sequences with the 
CamCorder. I recommend these most attractive scenes. We liked the
30-minute movie showing an historic docudrama "Alamo: The Price for Freedom" in at the IMAX theatre. 

We started the afternoon tour a little bit groggy after a fine lunch 
at Merger. The walk around the Mission San Jose inspired our spirits 
but made us very thirsty. The following visit to 'Lone Star Brewery' 
was right on time as two free beers were served in papercups there. 
LJ "refused" that and drank plain water instead. These two Europeans 
confused the old barkeeper entirely. 

Next day, while LJ shopped at River Center, I went looking for a 
computer store and got well lost. After much searching I found the 
hotel. Rather exhausted, I did rush in deep grievance to our meeting 
place. I found LJ very furious and anxious about what could have 
happened to me. I was over an hour late. A "peace lunch" restored the 
full family's harmony again. 

In Corpus Cristi we toured in splendid sunshine and slight sea breeze.  
Soon we were at the City Marina with its T-Heads crammed with boats 
but nowhere a sailor to be seen. At the Captain Clark's Tour 
embarkation point everything was quiet and splendid hotels stared at 
this magnificent panorama motionless. We tried to visualize how many 
thousands of tourists swarm around these places. The long sandy 
beaches were so empty now, just sea-gulls and waves, wind getting 
stronger but still splendid sunshine.

The aquarium is the place one HAS to visit in CC.  There I took my 
best ever "underwater sequences," with my new CamCorder remaining 
always in the dry. All large tanks have the front or viewing panes 
slightly spherical. Press CamCorder lens against the pane and off you 
go shooting "underwater scenes". That was my discovery of the day! 

LJ waited some 40 minutes during which I rushed over to the Aircraft 
Carrier "The Blue Ghost", visiting the Ships's Store, the Flight Deck, 
viewing exhibited aircrafts there, the Navigation Bridge, Hangar Deck 
and out on the dock at last. LJ gazed incredulously at me and said:
 "You are totaly exhausted. You should have taken more time if 
visiting a warship is so important to you". 

Fortunately, my vitality did restore itself driving the long (again!) 
way to Padre Island, our last sightseeing on this day. The weather 
deteriorated, clouds all over, and stormy winds blew from the Gulf. It 
took some two hours to reach the Park Entrance. The ranger answered 
LJ's question about the Beach with: "There you have 60 miles of 
untouched beach to see!" 

We passed long streches of Grasslands, a route to Bird Island Basin 
Ranger Station to reach the Visitor Centre on Malaquite Beach at last. 
It was more or less deserted. We walked down to the beach, braving 
strong squalls from the Gulf. Whose idea was it to bring swimming 
suits here? Just look at these brownish waves in foaming and churning seas? 

We chose driving mostly the back country roads from Padre Island, the 
Mustang Island road, then by ferry from Port Aransas to Aransas Pass. 
After 264 miles we reached Galveston late afternoon in good shape, 
passing through Fulton, Lamar, Tivoli, Wadworth, Cedar Lane, Brazoria, 
Lake Jakson, Clute, Richwood and Hitchock. Don't tell us that we did 
not see much of Texas, please. 

We went to the Moody Gardens, a fine place to visit: Tropical 
Rainforest Pyramid and the 3-D IMAX. Later, in 100% humidity, LJ 
waited for me in our air conditioned car while I completed another run 
through the Lone Star Flight Museum. There I stood eye-in-eye with a 
'Flying Fortress' and a 'Lightning' for the first time, both aircrafts 
with which I have had some most unpleasant experiences.

Finally, we came back to Holly Springs more or less to the minute of 
the predicted time after driving some 300 miles on that last day. We 
didn't have any problems with the car or Texan Police either, driving 
some 1450 miles in all through a small portion of Big Texas. Could 
there be a more pleasant way to end our first visit to Texas, alias 
'VeTx'?

Last but least, I have to unveil the "secret" behind Langston's BBQ 
Locomotive. Since the morning of October third, this contraption 
smoked like a real steam locomotive. I checked its interior expecting 
to find there some kind of a grill and meat on.  I found a gas burner 
sending its small flame against a wooden board which smoked. 

Later, Langston explained the Texas way of BBQ-ing to me in full 
detail. He prepares steaks, ribs and sausages with proper spices, pre-
frys and deep freezes them well in advance. The smoking board is from 
Langston's special wood stock of Holly Springs. It only produces the 
right flavour when the meat is heated up and smoked by his 
'Locomotive'. The smoke from its stack is just for 'show' but the meat 
taste was outstanding, believe me. The British type of BBQ, or any 
other known type, cannot match the Texan one at all. 

Thus ended our first visit to Texas where we met many new and dear 
friends in the 'Land of many Lands'. Many thanks to all who 
contributed to the success of our 'VeTx'.  Our special thanks go to 
our hosts, Marie and Langston, who looked after us so well and made us 
feel at home in their Holly Springs, and to all at the Nacogdoches 
SeniorNet Chapter. 


======================================================================

A CARIBBEAN CRUISE
by Frank Harper

Cruise brochures for the Caribbean are typically filled with glossy 
pictures of handsome people indulging in a host of appealing 
activities on some rakish, white cruise ship, sailing in crystal clear 
waters in an exotic tropical setting. For those of us confined by 
winter weather to a cold and snowy existence for months at a time, the 
brochures are powerfully seductive. We want to see for ourselves if it 
is all true. What is surprising, when you actually take a cruise, is 
to find out that the brochures are pretty accurate in their portrayal. 
The Caribbean is a beautiful stretch of water; the weather is hot and 
sunny; the islands are attractive and exotic and a cruise is an ideal 
way to get around.

My wife and I arranged to meet old friends from California and 
introduce them to the joys of the Eastern Caribbean in February of 
1995. We had agreed on a week on the Royal Caribbean Cruise ship, Song 
of America, which sails from the port of San Juan on the island of 
Puerto Rico to a series of small islands, namely, St. Croix, St. 
Kitts, Guadeloupe, St. Maarten, St. John's and St. Thomas. Some of 
these names may be familiar to you, others will not. 

We flew out of frigid Toronto, just hours before a major winter storm 
closed the airport, and landed in San Juan several hours later, to be 
met by very welcome, hot, humid, eighty degree weather. That was a 
good beginning. Because of our late arrival, we did not meet our 
friends until the compulsory lifeboat drill, which is always the first 
act of business on a cruise ship. No passengers are allowed to go to 
dinner until they are marshalled and counted at the lifeboat stations. 
And don't think you can hide in your cabin, because the stewards go 
through the ship systematically and round up all the waifs and strays. 

After dinner, we toured the ship and walked around some of its 700 
feet length and up and down (on the elevator) some of its nine decks. 
The Song of America is a well-equipped ship with lots of bars, salons, 
shops, theatres, gymnasiums, two swimming pools and a casino. It 
generally has more facilities than you are likely to use even in a 
week, unless your energy level is a lot higher than ours. 

Cruising used to be the fairly exclusive prerogative of the wealthy, 
who always dressed formally for dinner, even in the tropics, 
presumably on the grounds that dressing-up would differentiate them 
from the ill-clad riff-raff who were roughing it out in steerage.  
Nowadays, cruise ships cater to a single class, but some of that old 
formality remains. 

Of the seven nights that we spent on board the Song of America, three 
were designated as formal nights, which meant jackets and ties for the 
men, and a range from elegant casuals to cocktail outfits for the 
women. There was a general sense of good-natured participation in 
these formal nights, with lots of picture-taking both by the ship's 
photographers and the passengers themselves. There were also costume 
theme nights, such as Country and Western or Calypso for those 
interested, but few people participated, probably because 
luggage space to carry the extras had run out. On the non-formal 
nights, dress in the dining room was casual.

There were about a thousand people on board for that particular 
cruise, and seniors were much in evidence. Lest you be put off by such 
numbers, I should assure you that all those varied bodies were easily 
absorbed by such a large vessel. We rarely had a sense of being 
crowded, and the ship was run so efficiently that we seldom had to 
wait more than a few minutes to join in any activity. 

The eastern Caribbean is dotted with islands, most of which are old, 
volcanic lava cones, transformed by wind and weather into ocean oases. 
The islands are spaced about a hundred miles apart in a long string. 
The most common itinerary for cruise ships is to sail from one island 
to the other at night, and then dock early in the morning at the 
island of the day. That gives passengers the opportunity to go ashore 
either on the organized tours or on their own initiative. 

Cruising allows one to visit a number of cultures and habitats within 
a short space of time. You don't have to worry about catching planes 
or struggle with your luggage or wonder where you are going to sleep 
or if the food is safe to eat. Everything is laid on for you, as it 
would be in a first-class hotel on land. You have the option too of 
simply staying on the ship at every port, and a number of the 
passengers obviously preferred to do just that, being content to lie 
on the sun deck by the pool and soak up all those rays. For those of 
us seniors now suffering the adverse effects of sun damage to our 
skins, the amount of sunbathing by the younger set came as a surprise. 

The islands varied a great deal in their ethnic make-up and in their 
economic conditions. Tourism is an important part of the economies and 
most islands have duty-free shopping in a protected enclave close to 
the dock. For passengers with mobility problems, particularly those in 
wheelchairs, the proximity of such facilities is a godsend. We found 
the prices to be fairly uniform on most of the islands, both for 
liquor and jewelry. If you are interested in the widest range of 
expensive watches, or diamonds, emeralds or other precious stones, at 
rock-bottom prices, St. Thomas has more shops than you could visit in 
a whole day. 

A favorite shore venture for the more agile passengers was to head for 
the local beaches at each island. There were lots of snorkelers and 
just plain swimmers who went ashore right after breakfast and headed 
for the reefs to swim among the tropical fish. For those less agile, 
but with a yen to see the reef close up, there was a genuine submarine 
at St. Thomas, which took sighseers for an hour's descent to the lower 
reefs at 100 feet under the surface. This is a much less 
claustrophobic trip than you might imagine. The submarine is equipped 
with big windows that let you see everything. Regardless of whether 
you want to swim or just catch the sun, the beaches were generally 
beautiful, with clean white sand and emerald colored water that 
averaged about 85 degrees in temperature. 

All of the islands we visited were interesting, but we particularly 
liked St. Maarten and Guadeloupe. St. Maarten is half French and half 
Dutch and has attractive beaches, including a clothing-optional beach. 
One quick look before we hurried on reminded us that some people look 
better with their clothes on. Back in the more formal beach areas, the 
Golden Tulip, a beachside hotel, allowed us to use their change rooms 
and private beach for free.  

On the island of Guadeloupe, the capital city, Point a Pitre has a 
fascinating variety of shops, plus two outdoor markets where the women 
vendors attend their stalls, dressed in colorful local costume. My 
wife was really taken with the fabric stores which stocked very 
attractive French fabrics. As you might imagine, French perfume was 
selling well at prices below those we are accustomed to seeing in North America. 

For those concerned about language, almost everyone in Point a Pitre 
speaks English, even one persistent professional panhandler who 
accosted us five times and then turned down our offer of coins when we 
tried to get rid of him, and asked for dollar bills instead. 

We also found St. John's and St. Thomas to be clean, attractive 
places. They are in the U.S. Virgin Islands. At Trunk Bay on St. 
John's, we attempted snorkeling in less than ideal conditions and my 
wife found herself dumped head first in the sand by a big wave. 
Luckily she escaped with only a minor shakeup.

When you mention cruise ships, food comes readily to mind. The regular 
dining room fare was good to excellent, and what one would expect from 
a four-star restaurant. More casual, plainer food was offered in the 
cafeterias which catered to the late risers and the in-between 
snackers. We were told that the midnight buffet was more elegant, but 
never had the energy left to stay awake that long to try it. Diet-
conscious passengers can mix and match their selections from the low-fat menu and the regular menu. 

All of us remember those romantic shipboard scenes in movies from the 
thirties, in which the hero and the heroine are standing at the cruise 
ship's rail, he in black tie, and she in long formal gown, with a big, 
full moon in the background. The two lovers promise to love forever, 
or at least until the end of the voyage, whichever comes first. If you 
have ever wished yourselves in this scenario, the Song of America is 
happy to accommodate you. It would be petty of me to quibble that the 
piece of ship's rail and the full moon are actually props set up in 
the photographers' studio. The slightly "stagy" quality of the studio 
setting did not deter a surprising number of smartly-dressed couples 
from lining up to have their picture taken against this moonlit 
backdrop.

Speaking of photographs, one of the remarkable aspects of life on 
board a cruise ship is the number of times your photograph is taken. 
If you don't own a camera on a cruise, it does not matter. There is an 
army of photographers who turn up on every occasion. We were first 
photographed getting on the ship, despite the fact that after a long 
tiring flight, we both looked like death warmed up. Then there were 
candid shots of getting off at every port and more shots of getting 
back on. Then there were shots of meeting the Captain and shots of 
each formal dress up night, and so on. These prints were then posted 
on the walls around the casino and people would spend ten to twenty 
minutes trying to find their particular pictures among the hundreds on 
display. We opted not to buy any of the ship's pictures, and were 
quite happy with those we took ourselves. 

Did we enjoy the cruise? Yes, very much. Was it worth the cost? Yes it 
was. Would we do it again? Yes, we certainly would. Just call us and 
we will have our bags packed in five minutes and be ready to go. Our 
next cruise destination -- probably Alaska.


======================================================================

THE OPALS OF COOBER PEDY
by Elaine Dabbs

We were making an attempt to cross central Australia's forbidding 
Simpson Desert, trying to be the first coach/camping tour to succeed! 
The plan was to follow unmapped tracks and abandoned oil rig supply 
roads, travelling through 1000 km of desert via Finke, Dalhousie 
Springs, Purni Bore, Kunmcherinna Well and Goyders Lagoon before arriving in Birdsville.

Hundreds of tonnes of sand had to be shovelled and bucketed from the 
crests of sand dunes, some of which were over 90 metres high, to get 
the 12-metre coach through some of the tougher spots -- and the 
average age of passengers was 60! We were also required to help place 
steel matting under the rear wheels to give traction through soft sand 
drifts. The coach was often bogged for hours.

Our itinerary included a town I had heard and read so much about 
because of its 'white' opals: Coober Pedy, 850 kilometers north of 
Adelaide in South Australia, 700 kilometers south of Alice Springs and 
reached through a desert of low scrub and occasional trees along dry 
stream beds.  

Nearly 90% of the world's opals are mined here, and it's the only 
reason to live and work in the brutally hot, dry and desolate region, 
which averages only 10-15 centimeters of rainfall a year.  

When we were close to Coober Pedy we saw a snake on the road sunning 
itself -- uncoiled, it was almost a meter long -- a Tiger Snake, one 
of the most deadly in the country.

Summer here, which lasts eight months, is incredibly harsh -- no 
relief in the still, dry air and blue sky.  Temperatures range from 35 
to 48 degrees (Centigrade) and occasional dust storms scorch the 
place.  Swarms of flies zero in during the day, and at night the 
mosquitoes arrive.

Early miners took shelter underground, moving their furniture into old 
mining dugouts.  Today, nearly two-thirds of Coober Pedy's 2800 
residents live, socialise and do business underground and out of 
sight, adding to the town's air of desolation.  These underground 
homes in Coober Pedy, referred to as 'dugouts', are often beautiful 
with every modern facility. They are carved out of hillsides, some as 
much as 20 meters undergound, and can have three or four bedrooms. The 
walls and ceiling are solid sandstone and some walls are covered with 
plaster or wood. The temperature stays 21 to 23 degrees C year around 
no matter what the outside temperature.  However, one small 
disadvantage of living underground is when the lights are turned out 
and you have no windows -- the darkness is complete! 

The red sandstone walls give off a musty, earthy smell and a fine 
white layer of dust covers everything.  Even though there are 
ventilation shafts, the dust tends to make you feel congested.  We 
were told Coober Pedy is the only place where you shake your laundry 
out after it's been hung on the line.

Coming into Coober Pedy, with its stony, almost treeless landscape, 
one can see that the whole area has been dug up in the search for 
opals. Some of the mines are dug into hillsides but most are shafts 
that go straight down for 20 to 60 meters and then the miners tunnel 
searching for opal. There are thousands of these shafts in the desert 
in this area and tourists have an uncanny knack of falling down these 
holes on a regular basis. This happens so often they have organized a 
Mine Shaft Rescue Team to get people out when they have been careless 
enough to fall in.  

Some years ago, my husband and I took our four youngish children to 
Lightning Ridge, another opal field in the north-west of New South 
Wales, for a taste of what a mining town was like.  There, our 
daughter reversed the back-end of our car down a mine.  She was just 
learning to drive and had been lulled into a feeling of safety by her 
youngest brother saying 'there's nothing there.' Some 
time later she heard what we thought of a nine-year old being posted 
as lookout!

In Coober Pedy a few of us decided to go down a mine.  Perched on a 
plank, it appeared rather perilous as I dangled over the open mine 
while a noisy winch lowered me down what looked like a large rabbit 
hole -- metres into the earth.  At the bottom, the main tunnel had 
been drilled by machine, not like in the early days when it was all 
done by hand.

We walked through rubble along a long tunnel, and what looked like 
sparkling rock turned out to be only gypsum, like fool's gold.  We 
watched as a miner pulled off a piece of sandstone, prying off chunks 
of earth, and touched the rock with his tongue to remove the dust and 
so enable him to examine it for any sign of colour.  I found myself 
doing this with every likely-looking piece of rubble.  But we found 
nothing during that trip.  

During breaks from drilling with a machine-powered pick, the discarded 
sandstone is disposed of through a blower, a giant vacuum cleaner that 
sucks earth up to the surface.  On our visit to Lightning Ridge, 
miners sent the discarded earth up to the surface via bucket -- what a 
difference now with the modern machinery.

Over the last 10 years, the paving of the only highway through to 
Alice Springs has made it easier for tourists to see our Australian 
outback -- and to shop for opals too.  Previous to that, most 
travellers treated Coober Pedy as only a remote petrol stop on the 
road to Ayers Rock and The Alice.  Personally I prefer the opals from 
Lightning Ridge with their bright colours, however many of our coach 
passengers were keen to buy.

One of the unusual occupations in opal fields is called noodling. This 
involves searching through the tailings that have been brought up from 
the mines and piled near the mine shaft.  The object of noodling is to 
find opal that was left behind by careless miners.  Some people do it 
for fun, but others do it for a living and have elaborate machinery 
for the process. They have a mechanical digger that puts the material 
on a small conveyor belt that runs into an enclosed truck. There they 
use an infra-red light that causes the opal to shine brightly and even 
the smallest piece can be seen.

People from all over the world come here to try their luck at mining 
and noodling.  People have even been known to find an opal worth 
thousands of dollars in the raw state during their noodling.

One old miner I was chatting with said he hadn't found opal in a 
couple of months; he knew it was out there, but there were heaps of 
dirt in between.  He had lived there for years, returning to Adelaide 
when down on his luck, getting casual work until he had enough saved 
for another mining venture. 

Unfortunately the big companies have spoiled it for the 'little man' 
who had been able to find enough opal to live on.  Explosives were 
banned in those early days as, opal only being coloured glass, it 
shatters with the explosion. However, now Asian syndicates send large 
amounts of small pieces of opal back to Singapore and Hong Kong where 
they are made up into 'triplets', or perhaps 'doublets'.  These only 
have tiny slivers of opal stuck to the front of the finished stone, 
being backed by 'potch,' which doesn't have any of the real opal 
colour but is just creamy white rock.  Potch will be opal...in about a 
million years.

It does seem incredible to those of us who have only known city life, 
that in the early days of exploration in the harsh outback of 
Australia, it would have been possible for explorers to survive even 
in the desert if they had known what to look for.  For example, the 
witchetty grub, about 10 centimeters long, creamy white, when cooked 
on the coals of the fire, tastes delicious.  Then there's the honey 
ant, found by digging out the ant hill carefully until the nest area 
is found.  There the ants drag around a sack full of very pure honey. 
The ant is carefully picked up, the honey sucked out of the sack and 
the ant put back in the nest.  And where the river red gum is found, 
apart from the beautiful shade cast by its spreading branches, it 
produces sugar nectar. Small branches pulled from the tree produce 
sugar that is sucked from the underside of the leaves.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be necessary for us to hunt for food in this 
way, as we were in a well-equipped coach with sufficient food and 
water to take us across our Simpson Desert.  But we were told to be 
conservative of our water supply in particular, and were only able to 
'bath' in one cup of water a day. But there was plenty for drinking.

Deserts are often monotonous, but the Simpson Desert is beautiful and 
full of fantastic surprises.  One moment you are on a bed of barren 
red sand, the next on patches of salt pan or a marsh with tall reeds. 
Yes, we did make it, and celebrated in the famous hotel in Birdsville.  
But that crossing is another story. 

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PREVIOUS ISSUES OF THE CYBERSENIOR REVIEW

Volume 1, Number 1, March 1994
	1--TENERIFE--THE ISLAND OF SUN by Pat Davidson
	2--THE SAD STORY OF TIM CHICK, THE CHICK WHO WANTED TO SEE 
		THE WORLD by Jim Hursey
	3--AUSTRALIAN GOLD FIELDS by Elaine Dabbs

Volume 1, Number 2, August 1994
	1--GLIMPSE INTO THE PAST by Pat Davidson
	2--ELECTROMAGNETIC FIELDS by Frank Harper
	3--GREECE AND TURKEY by John Davidson
	4--"GRUMPY OLD MEN" AN INSULT TO GRUMPY OLD MEN by Jim Hursey

Volume 1, Number 3, October 1994
	1--JENNY AND HER FAMILY FACE DRUGS by John Davidson
	2--A TRIP TO AUSTRALIA, OR: I CAME, I SAW, I STAYED
		by Lotte Evans
	3--WHAT DID YOU CALL ME? OR: MY MOTHER DIDN'T RAISE HER BOY
		TO BE A SENIOR CITIZEN by Sam Weissman

Vaolume 2, Number 1, January 1995
	1--THE TRIP OF A LIFETIME by Maryanne B. Ward
	2--THE EVENTS AND TIMES OF THE CEDAR BLUFF SCHOOL (PART I) 
		by Langston Kerr
	3--AGE SHOULD BE EMBRACED, NOT FEARED by Jim Hursey

Volume 2, Number 2, April 1995
	1--THE HISTORY AND POETICS OF THE CINQUAIN by Jim Olson
	2--THE EVENTS AND TIMES OF THE CEDAR BLUFF SCHOOL (PART II) 
		by Langston Kerr
	3--MORRIS ON! by Eddie Dunmore
	4--CINQUAIN MADNESS by the editors

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end cybersenior.2.3