The North Mount Lyell fire: Was disaster avoidable?

THE NORTH MOUNT LYELL FIRE: WAS DISASTER AVOIDABLE?
By Richard Knight
MSc(Eng) ARSM CEng FAICD
On 12 October 1912, a fire occurred on the 700-foot level of the North Mount Lyell mine
in Gormanston, Tasmania. It caused the asphyxiation of 42 miners and has long been
considered one of the worst disasters in Australian mining history.
What caused the fire has been the subject of considerable debate and controversy ever
since. While there was a Royal Commission into the disaster, the findings were
inconclusive. One hundred years later, the disaster remains a matter of unresolved
speculation. Whether or not the disaster was avoidable and the 42 deaths prevented
has received much less attention, and is arguably worthy of analysis.
Following the Royal Commission, the Tasmanian government commissioned Western
Australia’s State Mining Engineer, Alexander Montgomery, to inspect the mines at
Mount Lyell and to report on their condition. Throughout the inspections, Montgomery
was accompanied by representatives of the three parties most deeply interested in his
findings: the local Mines Inspector, C. H. Curtain; the company’s Engineer in Charge of
Mines, Russell Murray; and local union representative, M. Cunningham. Montgomery’s
written instructions were clear and, in the brief time that he was allowed, his
investigations methodically addressed all of the questions posed by the government.
Montgomery concluded that the management of the mines was satisfactory and the
three parties agreed. While some people had reservations about both process and
result, the government subsequently exonerated the company and life on the west
coast quickly returned to normal.
The community was badly shaken by the Mount Lyell tragedy, but there appears to
have been a general acceptance of the need to move ahead and to repair the fractured
working relationships within and across the community. In truth, responsibility for the
agitated and adversarial state of affairs that had prevailed between management and
work force on the Mount Lyell field before the disaster was a shared one, and there was
plenty of scope for introspection on the part of all concerned.
Accepting at the outset that it is all too easy to view the past through the filter of the
present, there is evidence to suggest that the disaster could have been avoided if the
North Lyell mine had been developed in accordance with the best management
practices of the day rather than simple compliance with the Mining Act.
Context
Before addressing Montgomery’s report and its findings, it is necessary to explain briefly
the prior history of Mount Lyell, and to provide some background on Alexander
Montgomery himself. The evolution of the company and its working culture has a
bearing on the argument that while the risk of a fire in the mine could not be eliminated,
the asphyxiation of the men was avoidable, at least to a significant extent.
The Mount Lyell Mining & Railway Company was established in 1893 by a group of
investors, most of whom had already made their fortunes at Broken Hill. That
experience helped shape the development of Mount Lyell. Like Broken Hill, Mount Lyell
was remote from existing infrastructure. In the minds of its founders, the value in Mount
Lyell, as at Broken Hill, lay not in the mine but in controlling the processing of ore to
metal, and in controlling logistics. As a result, much of the company’s investment was

put into a smelter and a railway. Capital was scarce, and investment in the mines was
held to a minimum.
In light of the limited availability and high-delivered cost of coke, the company’s
metallurgist and future General Manager, Robert Sticht, chose to adopt pyritic smelting,
using the sulphides in the ore to fuel the process. Pyritic smelting proved to be a great
success at Mount Lyell, both technically and economically, and Sticht was justly lauded
for his achievement. In the years that followed, the Mount Lyell Board deferred to
Sticht’s expertise, and he was left to run the business more or less as he saw fit.
The copper content of the Mount Lyell ore body was soon to prove disappointing, falling
steadily year on year and triggering a desperate scramble for smelter feed. The second
largest company on the field, The North Mount Lyell Copper Company, extravagantly
elected to build a second smelter and railway, cutting off the supply of high-grade
siliceous North Lyell ore to the Mount Lyell smelter. Consequently, instead of being, as
Sticht had envisaged, self-sufficient and a buyer of custom ore on its own terms from
the smaller mines, Mount Lyell became hostage to the North Lyell company, and its
smelter began to look like a stranded asset. Both companies got into financial difficulties
but, in the end, common sense prevailed. A merger was consummated in August 1903.
Mount Lyell Mining & Railway Company emerged as the survivor, largely through
recognition of its superior technical expertise and management, although North Lyell
was soon to prove the better mine. The merged entity powered ahead.
Sticht, through the agency of his Engineer in Charge of Mines, R M Murray, quickly put
his stamp on the North Lyell mine, instilling a culture of strict working discipline where
considerable laxity had previously prevailed. In an environment of growing trade union
militancy, Sticht’s authoritarian style was not widely appreciated and the relationship
between management and workforce slowly became more adversarial, with
consequences for the future. Sticht was a benign autocrat, who took a paternalist
approach towards employees. Although not unduly arbitrary in his dealings with the
work force at large, he did little to ameliorate the harsh living and working conditions on
the west coast. In his social attitudes, he was very much a creature of his class and
time, lacking both empathy and the common touch.
Russell Murray came to Queenstown in 1900 as a draughtsman and assistant surveyor.
Sticht was his mentor. Murray, barely 29, was appointed Engineer in Charge of Mines in
1906. Murray was a talented manager and a natural leader, but his first-hand
experience and knowledge of mining was brief and limited to Mount Lyell. The
expectations and attitudes of management and labour were poles apart, differences
being further aggravated by the poor living conditions and the perception, promoted by
industrial agitators, that the mines were unsafe and that the accident rate was
abnormally high. Serious accidents and fatalities were distressingly commonplace at
work, and there was little or no compensation for the affected families, but the statistics
for Mount Lyell, appalling to modern eyes, were in fact no different from those of other
major mining fields in Australia.
Alexander Montgomery
Montgomery was a New Zealander, graduating MA from Otago University in 1882.
After several years with the Public Works Department, he became Director of the
Thames School of Mines, Hauraki Gold Fields, remaining there until he was appointed
Inspector of Mines and Geological Surveyor for Tasmania in 1889. From Tasmania,
Montgomery moved back to New Zealand in 1897 to manage a gold mining company
before returning once again to Australia in 1902 as State Mining Engineer for WA, in
which position he remained until 1930.

Montgomery was well credentialed and well regarded; and well-known in Tasmania.
He was handpicked for the assignment, and his report deserves careful examination,
not only for what it says but also for what it tries to achieve; harmony among the various
unhappy factions on the west coast.
Fire Risk
Simply put, risk must be assessed in two ways; probability and consequence. Both
should be minimised to the extent practicable through management action, and sensible
procedures put in place to ameliorate any residual risk. There was little structured
thought given to hazard management in 1912, and it would be unfair to judge
management practices then by the standards of today, however let us consider what
was known and understood at the time.
North Lyell was a relatively wet mine, and the fire risk was not high. It resided principally
with the electrical equipment in the mine, in effect pump motors and the reticulation of
electric power to those motors. Under these circumstances, it might be argued that the
probability of a fire was very low; but, as events were to show, the consequences were
disastrous.
The Disaster
On 12 October 1912, there were 170 men underground. Men were working in stopes
and headings above and below the seat of the fire in the 700 foot level pump station,
but much of the activity was in the lower levels of the mine where, following the
discovery of the new development ore body in 1905, the pace of development was
frenetic. By 1912, the workings on the lower levels were extensive. In the absence of
any system, warning the men of the fire after it had been detected proved difficult and
hazardous for the mine supervisors and volunteers involved, for the smoke and gases
from the fire spread rapidly throughout the mine, assisted by the piston effect of the
cages moving in the main shaft evacuating those men who had been alerted to the
danger.
The main shaft was the principal means of entry and egress. 74 men escaped by way of
the main shaft on the day of the fire, and a further four were rescued through this shaft
from the 500 foot level on the following day. The second means of egress was through
the engine winze, a small shaft that extended from the 300 foot level to the bottom of
the mine. At the time of the fire, the winze was closed; the timber sets in one section
having been crushed by squeezing ground. It took three shifts to re-establish a ladder
way through the crushed zone. A further 50 men were rescued by means of these
ladders.
Despite the best efforts of the rescuers who flocked to the mine from all quarters, 42
men working in the deeper levels perished through asphyxiation as the smoke and
gases descended the mine. When all hope of rescuing these men alive had been
abandoned, the fire was extinguished by allowing the mine to flood. It was some months
before the lower workings were dewatered and all the bodies recovered.
The Montgomery Report
Before commenting on Montgomery’s findings, it must be stated that the company was
working in full compliance with the Mining Act and Regulations, as they stood at the
time. Beyond the Act, the safety of employees depended very much on their own
common sense and experience, and the diligence of their supervisors. Mount Lyell
seems to have been well served by the latter but there was no formal training for
miners, nor supervisors. New men were assigned to work with old hands, and

consequently learned all their habits; good and bad, safe and unsafe. Such was the
practice of the times.
Montgomery was asked to make a thorough examination of both mines (Mount Lyell as
well as North Lyell) and to respond to four general allegations and to 7 more specific
questions. His report was almost universally favourable to the company, and there was
no dissent with respect to his findings from any of those who accompanied his
inspections. In some instances he offered mild criticism of current practice, then
rationalised the practice by stating that it represented the best that could practically be
done. That may have been true with respect to contemporary Australian practice, but
mining methods were evolving fast, especially in the US, and there is little evidence to
suggest that local management was keeping abreast of these developments.
The first allegation maintained that management had been negligent with regard to
keeping the mine in a safe condition. This amounted to disagreement over the mining
methods being used, but Montgomery’s inspections found the mines to be generally in
good physical condition. The second allegation was that the timber in the main shaft
was likely to collapse at any time. This was clearly without foundation, the fact being
revealed by a detailed inspection undertaken by riding the cage from the top to the
bottom of the shaft.
The third allegation was that danger existed because there was only one functioning
exit from the North Lyell mine. The engine winze was blocked at the time of the fire and
it took the work of three shifts to restore the winze as an exit. As mentioned above,
50men subsequently escaped through this means, and Montgomery used this
somewhat fortuitous event, combined with the fact that the Mining Act did not require a
second exit from metal mines, to dismiss this allegation. This was not a supportable
position even in 1912, although it failed to excite any official comment. The engine
winze should have been maintained in a proper state of repair. Had it been open, some
lives may have been saved through more rapid communication of the evacuation order.
The fourth allegation was that a number of stopes in both mines were not safe, and that
there was a danger of a general collapse. This overstated the case; there was no risk of
a general collapse on the evidence presented, but unpredictable ground conditions did
exist in a number of places that required the greatest skill and caution to manage safely.
The solution to these local hazards was to take a more precautionary approach to
stoping, something that was however antipathetic to the working culture of the times.
Having refuted the principal allegations, Montgomery addressed the specific questions:
‘How far are the suggestions made in the annual report of the Chief Inspector of Mines
suited to the requirements of the Lyell mines?’ The suggestions made by the Chief
Inspector were sound, and Montgomery was fundamentally supportive, as one would
expect.
‘Apart altogether from any interpretations of The Mining Act, is the constant presence of
an attendant at each pump motor necessary or desirable in the interests of safety?’
Montgomery saw little merit in posting permanent attendants at every pump station.
‘Can you suggest any system of effectively and simultaneously signalling all men out of
the mine?’ In 1912, there was no effective way of communicating with workers in stopes
and development headings other than by word of mouth. Informing the work force of
the need to evacuate a mine is not by itself a solution to the consequences of fire. It can
only be a part of an inherently safe system, of which access to fresh air is the proper
foundation.

The remaining four questions related, directly or indirectly, to the provision of a proper
system of ventilation, the absence of which, combined with the (at best) indifferent
means of egress, was the fundamental weakness in the layout of the North Lyell mine.
They can be addressed together:
“Is any system of gateways desirable for confining fire outbreaks underground? Are
there sufficient means of exit for the men in case of any mining accident? In your
opinion, is a connecting drive to the Lyell Blocks Shaft essential or necessary? Is the
mine sufficiently ventilated?”
Montgomery was less than decisive in his response to these questions, and one must
ponder the reason why. Most mines in Australia relied on natural ventilation; by the
same token, most mines were small, and many were under-capitalised, and as such
were rarely exemplars of best practice. Arguably, Murray had neither the training nor
the experience to appreciate the likely consequences of a mine fire, nor apparently did
Curtain.
Other than for coal mines, where the risk of fire and explosion was manifestly greater,
little seems to have been done to regulate mine ventilation in the years before or even
immediately following the disaster. Natural ventilation depends upon the difference in
elevation of the surface and the mine workings and the difference in air temperature
inside and outside a mine. Ordinarily, the greater these differences are, the larger the
natural ventilation pressure created and the greater the resulting air flow. The direction
of air flow due to unregulated natural ventilation is seldom constant. This was certainly
the case at North Lyell and under normal circumstances this mattered little. It could be
argued that the mine was in fact sufficiently ventilated. Fresh air was fresh air,
regardless of direction. Management argued that there were two shafts, the main shaft
and the engine winze, and that connection to a third shaft, the Lyell blocks shaft, was
unnecessary. Management also argued, and Montgomery agreed, that the location of a
fire could not be predicted and that a system of airtight doors would not necessarily
contain the effects of fire. Taken alone this might be true; as one component of a
properly designed ventilation system, it was not. It also remains a fact that a fire, an
intense source of heat, quickly takes control of any unregulated natural system,
redirecting air flows and rendering shafts potentially unusable for anyone without a
respirator. Control is an essential element of any safe ventilation system.
Montgomery in effect adopted the conventional wisdom that prevailed in metal mines in
Australia at the time. More progressive authorities, particularly in the US where the
mines were larger and the fire hazard more diverse, were already moving proactively in
a more cautious direction. Natural ventilation, as distinct from the use of fans, was still
accepted practice in many mines but there was a move towards greater control. The
flow of air was directed by means of doors and, where necessary, dedicated airways so
that the principal escape ways always had fresh air and, wherever possible, plant and
machinery vented directly to return air. This was not the case at North Lyell in 1912 nor,
as has been pointed out previously, was it required to be so. However, had
management adopted a more precautionary approach to ventilation, the integrity of the
main shaft as the principal means of escape might have been maintained, and lives
saved.
Montgomery made little attempt to find fault; instead he generally absolved
management on the grounds that the mines were operated in compliance with the Act.
In his eyes, the disaster was the result of a sequence of events that were unforeseen,
and indeed unforeseeable. Today, his responses would be unacceptable but, at the
time, his findings were accepted by most people. It was left to individuals to
contemplate what had happened, and how things might have been different. The

eport’s influence on human behaviour will never be known, but the west coast
community coalesced strongly in the years that followed in a way that it had not done
previously. North Lyell’s dependence on an informal system of natural ventilation
continued until the 1960s, aided, but aided significantly, by one very positive
development in the 1920s, the North Lyell tunnel.
North Lyell Tunnel
At the time of the merger between the two companies in 1903, the bottom of the North
Lyell mine was at the 500-foot level and proven reserves totalled 170,000 tons. The
Company, concerned by the limited reserves, initiated an aggressive program of
underground exploration and development. Five years later, the mine was 1,100 feet
deep and a massive new ore body, the new development ore body, had been found
below the 600-foot level. Proven reserves totalled 778,000 tons and the footprint of the
ore body had only been partially defined. It was reasonable to suppose at the time that
reserves would continue to increase, as indeed they did.
The 1,100-foot level corresponded with the elevation of the reduction works yard, some
7,000 feet away in a straight line. In January 1927, 14 years after the disaster, the
Board approved the development of the North Lyell tunnel to connect the mine directly
with the reduction works. It was completed and commissioned in August 1928. Prior to
this date, ore had been moved from the mine to the reductions works by a complex and
circuitous overland handling system combining rail and ropeways. Once in service,
operating costs in the North Lyell mine decreased by more than 15 per cent and the
investment was paid back in less than three years.
In addition to the economic benefit, the tunnel significantly improved and stabilised the
ventilation of the North Lyell mine. 1,100 feet lower than the surface at North Lyell, the
tunnel served as the intake for the mine’s ventilation system, allowing strong currents of
fresh air to upcast through the workings to the surface. Had it been driven in 1909, as it
could have been, those men located above the seat of the fire would have escaped as
they did in any event through the main shaft and the engine winze; once alerted, those
below could have climbed down the shaft and been rescued from the tunnel, walking
into fresh air all the way. The company had both the financial means and the economic
incentive to drive the tunnel in 1909. Why did it not do so?
The reasons are complex. As the minutes of its meetings show, the board had shifted
its attention away from mining to the development of a superphosphate fertiliser
business on the mainland, and the copper business was used to provide the cash. In
Queenstown, left to his own devices, Sticht, remained focused on his original pyritic
smelting business model. Little thought was given to the orderly development of the
North Lyell mine. Sticht’s priorities were reserve development and production, as a
result the demands of the smelter were paramount. This is of course a rather simplistic
explanation. The more one delves the more complex the issues become. A more
profound account of the business drivers of the day, and their interaction, must await
further analysis.
Conclusion
The death of 42 miners by asphyxiation in the North Lyell mine was an avoidable
consequence of the fire in the pump house. Had the mine installed a controlled system
of natural ventilation, and more than one properly maintained method of egress from the
extensive workings, at least some of those miners would have escaped alive. Had there
been adequate access to the 1,100 foot level; the North Lyell tunnel level; most if not all
of the miners would have survived. The Montgomery Report offers some insight into
why this did not happen. The Mining Act was no longer fit for purpose, neither was the

prevailing system of inspection. This was inherently dangerous in an era when
compliance was generally seen as the standard to be met. The inadequacies of the Act
reflected badly on the government. The management of the company was also deficient
in terms of technical skills and systems. Sticht was a benign dictator rather than a team
leader, more accustomed to giving orders than heeding advice.
The board was micro-managing the growth of the fertiliser business rather than
providing strategic oversight of the whole business and trade unions were following an
aggressive political and social agenda; for them, safety was sometimes a stick with
which to beat management rather than a matter of fundamental concern. As an
experienced engineer who had worked both in government and in industry, wise to the
ways of the world, Montgomery would have seen and understood much of this.
Perhaps, in his report, he chose deliberately to suppress the flames of discord rather
than to fan them.