ABC News - Lucy Barbour
Across New South Wales and Queensland's southern
downs, country towns are approaching their own 'day zero', as water
supplies dry up in the drought.
Ten towns, including major
centres, are considered to be at high risk of running out within six
months, if it doesn't rain and if water infrastructure isn't improved.
Councils
are rushing to put emergency measures in place, but more than a decade
since the end of the millennium drought, water security is still almost
non-existent for many rural communities.
Early learnings
In
a small country preschool in northern New South Wales, children start
each morning with the same lesson: If it's yellow, let it mellow.
Tenterfield preschool director Chloe Daly reminds the students not to flush their number ones.
"Who can tell me why we don't flush the toilet when we do a wee anymore?" she asks.
"Because we're in a drought," they chime.
"And what does a drought mean?"
"It means we're running out of water!"
The children practice how to wash their hands
without wasting a drop. The tap stays off while the soap's rubbed in
and they count quickly to 10 as the water washes it off.
"Because otherwise the fish will die and we won't be able to drink," they say.
Habits
are being honed early because Tenterfield is running out of this most
precious resource. The town's dam is two thirds empty and the bore that
supplements supply could fail any day.
Locals have had to severely
cut back their water use and are not allowed to wash cars or water
gardens. Many are following the council's advice and showering less too.
"I
don't like to say this, but I have a shower every second or third day,
and then it's a really quick one," antiques store owner Elizabeth
Macnish explains.
She normally opens her home on Airbnb, but recently closed it because guests were using too much water.
"They just don't care. They say, 'We're paying. Too bad, too sad for you'," she says.
Flower farmer Mandy Reid also apologises for not showering.
"Luckily it's winter and we can get away with it," she chuckles.
But
the laughter turns to tears when she shows the oldest section of her
23-year-old nursery, where decades of toil, love and care have been
reduced to lifeless, brittle limbs.
Ms Reid has not set foot in this part of the garden for four months because she finds it too upsetting.
"You only get one chance to build a garden — a good mature garden. This was mine, but it's gone," she says.
Silver birch and snowball trees will have to be ripped out; their leaves crumple in her hands.
"It's all dead," she says flatly.
She longs for flooding rain, but according to the Bureau of Meteorology's long-range forecast, that is unlikely anytime soon.
Time running out
Tenterfield Mayor Peter Petty recalls a time when the dam was even lower, at just 19 per cent capacity.
"But in one night, it rained and built up 13 inches," he recalls.
Mr
Petty's hoping a plan to find new bores, with the help of State
Government funding, will save Tenterfield from its "worst-case
scenario": trucking in water.
That, for any town, is a hugely
inefficient and expensive challenge and he says it would put an extra
1,400 B-double trucks on the road each month.
"If it happens, I'll hang my head in shame that we'd let the community down," Mr Petty says.
But what if it doesn't rain and new bores are not successful?
"We're buggered," he admits.
Bigger
centres like Tamworth and Orange, and potentially Dubbo and Armidale,
plus smaller towns like Cobar, Narromine and Nyngan are all considered
to be at "high risk" of running out within six months if things do not
change.
Across the border in Queensland, water shortages are
biting hard in towns like Stanthorpe and Warwick, which are inching
towards emergency restrictions.
Southern Downs Shire Mayor Tracy
Dobie says water may have to be carted from Warwick to Stanthorpe in
December, and she fears ratepayers may have to foot the bill.
"We
could be looking at anything from $500,000 to $1.5 million per month, to
transport the water, depending on how far we have to truck it from,"
she says.
Trucks are already a big part of the landscape in
southern Queensland and northern New South Wales, carting livestock
between saleyards and abattoirs.
But water restrictions are making
those journeys longer, more expensive and messier, because councils
have closed the wash stations drivers use to clean excrement from their
vehicles.
The closures have forced trucks to driver further south to Walcha, in New England, where one wash station remains open.
"I
think our council understands the importance of the cattle industry
around here, that we need to be able to manage our effluent for
biosecurity. We just can't keep building it up in the trailer," freight
transport company owner Chris Betts explains.
But he's worried
about the strain that's putting on his own town's water supply. A dirty
truck needs to be hosed down constantly for three hours, and with Walcha
sitting on severe water restrictions, Mr Betts knows the wash station
could close any day.
Promises and pledges
Walcha is
regarded as a high rainfall area, but locals are constantly on water
restrictions. The town gets its water from the Macdonald River and flows
are pumped into the town's reservoir, but in the past year the river
has stopped flowing a record nine times. Now there is 120 days' supply
left.
The council is hurriedly finishing a feasibility study to
build another off-stream storage in the hope it will drought-proof the
town in future.
Long-time locals like stock and station agent
Bruce Rutherford support that proposal, but say water storage has been
"talked about" for decades.
He and his wife, Sal, have lived in
Walcha for 33 years and run a small farm on the outskirts of town. They
were drawn to the area partly because of its high rainfall records, but
now their dams are dry.
Mr Rutherford writes a column for the
local newspaper and recently used it to call out a lack of foresight
when it comes to water security.
"Part of the problem has been
that local council hasn't been aggressive enough in chasing this as
being an end result for Walcha," he says.
"I think governments,
periodically, have supported some sort of (water infrastructure)
facility to be built here and they seem to run out of money once we get
going with the idea."
It is a familiar story for many rural
communities, where water projects have been promised and pledged, but
the funding and action are too slow to arrive, leaving communities like
Walcha dry.
Walcha Mayor Eric Noakes is confident the
latest plan to build a new dam will succeed because "it's easier to get
noticed" at the moment.
He has been buoyed by the interest from
the New South Wales Government, which has spent $650 million on water
infrastructure in the past 18 months.
But regional town water supply coordinator James McTavish says the situation could still get worse.
"The next three months is looking very very dry and we're looking at the potential of an El Nino over summer," he says.
"That'll mean that inflows into those major storages will continue to be less than we would like."
And what if the drought suddenly breaks, filling thirsty dams and rivers?
Bureaucrats quietly say they are worried the current "urgency" to help country towns sure up water supply will be lost.
The
Federal Government has a $1.3 billion National Water Infrastructure
Development Fund, to help state, territory and local governments fund
appropriate projects.
Seven are currently under construction, but in the six years since the fund's inception, nothing has actually been completed.
The
sheer cost of water infrastructure makes it too expensive for local
governments to manage alone, and red tape and disagreements between
state and federal governments often drag the process out.
Mr Rutherford describes the situation as a "political nightmare" and he's frustrated by the bureaucracy.
"In the country, we're always looking to attract industry, but no one's going to come when there's no water."
Successful legacy
One
town where benefits have flowed is Goulburn, in southern New South
Wales. During the eight-year-long millennium drought, Goulburn residents
were stuck on extreme, level-five water restrictions.
"It was almost shower-with-a-friend time," Mayor Bob Kirk recalls with a laugh.
But
today the dams are three quarters full. In the depths of that natural
disaster, heavy lobbying saw the council win state and federal funding
to help raise a dam wall and build a pipeline.
But Mr Kirk says it "absolutely" took an emergency for governments to act.
Since
then, new industry has come to town, including a large brewery that
co-owner Anton Szpitalak says would not be able to operate "without a
guaranteed supply of water."
Plans for a large poultry processing plant are also currently before the council.
But
it takes more than big builds and business to drought-proof a town. Mr
Kirk says he is just as impressed with the Goulburn community, which has
not forgotten the lessons of harsh water restrictions.
"People
were standing in the shower with one leg in the bucket to let the water
run in. They learnt to make good use of the water, to change their
habits and practices, even in their gardening methods and storing water
in tanks."
A recent report to council showed Goulburn's water
consumption is currently the same as it would be if the town was on
level-three water restrictions.
"So Goulburn residents are still adopting water-wise practices," Mr Kirk says proudly.
Proof that hard-won wisdom can become a lasting legacy.