by Brian Cain
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
Although some Valley enterprises were getting together others were being torn apart. The influx of Methane gas crack mining was being met with stiff resistance. An amalgamation of interested parties had formed a powerful lobby group that linked to other areas of the globe and Australia with the same problem. Identical issues became apparent everywhere the method was being applied. On the eve of a state election the topic was receiving worldwide attention, the environmental failures and unknowns had been brought to the attention of the general public. The ABC round circles program aired an episode covering the shortfalls and bungles of crack mining of the Bowen Basin in Queensland and its impact on the underground artesian water basin.
Australian Resource Selection Enterprises amalgamated with Hybrid Organisation for Low Emissions to improve their image, both aggressive resource companies and purchased property in the Hunter Valley area. They became suddenly aware that the first letter abbreviations for their company was rather embarrassing and could not be used. They drilled test methane gas holes on their own property to exploit loop holes in the legislation giving themselves permission to drill. Should they find commercial quantities of gas under the current legislation they would be able to access vast tracts of land with no opposition. The Hunter Valley Peoples Lobby Group with formidable teeth including local landowners, lawyers, merchant bankers, an array of wine industry leaders, farmers, members of the tourism industry rallied together and held the politicians to account. It wasn't the fact that the gas mining didn't have some support but it was surfacing from under a rock somewhere, stifled by a barrage of well organised and factual opposition. At a political party policy release on the matter amongst the wineries of the Hunter Valley by the state premier, Joe Goodfellow a HVPLG protagonist expressed concerns regarding the party policies. Deep concern was expressed giving the go ahead to the practice with slightly modified guidelines claiming protection of some areas of the Valley from gas or coal mining. Joe an ordinary everyday bloke brought up the wide acceptance of the dangerous practice of producing power from nuclear power stations, another widely accepted power generating process of dubious control. He suggested it may take a natural disaster such as an earth quake to show that should such a disaster occur. Hawaii, the French Rivera and the Bahamas were not exempt from fallout, there was nowhere to run. Joe firmly stated a similar disaster was being forced on the people of the Hunter Valley with gas and coal mining, they didn't want to run anywhere they wanted to stay where they were. They liked where they lived. He insisted the next inheritors of the earth would be the inventors of renewable energy sources such as wind tide and sun, he battled with nuclear power transition picking up from coal.
The alliance of the wine, tourism and horse industry to combat this had yielded some unexpected dividends to winemakers. Winston Blake had little trouble organising a large crop of Botrytis infected grapes for the next harvest. A horticulturist from a rival wine group was offered in close proximity to the Nebbiolo grape vines in Queensland in exchange for some international favours. Bob Fields pulled together a winemakers group to plan the vintage of the first Nebbiolo wine from the Hunter, something new and exciting. Blake found a transport operation specialising in interstate grape haulage and put in a back up plan to cover pest outbreaks, a logistic point that could shatter the plan. Discussion were arranged with interstate grape processors should this occur.
The Greedy Piggy Creek mob sat in the middle of all this. Massive salaries for driving a dump truck made salaries paid to wine and tourism workers look pail and insignificant. The massive Come Fly With Me Union represented some areas of the wine and tourism industry and the logging and forestry. There was bickering among different lodges and officials of the high wage demands of mine workers. The mining industry had stripped other skilled workers from its ranks paying double an electrician could earn by just driving a truck. An education push in schools regarding the degradation of the planet by coal fired power stations had been in place for years. Mine workers reported the harassment of their children by children whose parents did not work in the power industry. The methane gas issue and state election had blown things up putting a wider gap between the Greedy Piggy Creek mob and opposing industry locals.
However all was not lost, inadvertent conversations had been struck up at race meetings by people who had not spoken to each other for years, bitter opponents on just about everything in the Valley. Kerry Snow was often sought for betting advice or those close to him by all punters in the Valley. The odd short conversation about each others problems began to bear fruit opening up discussion on tabo subjects. Winemakers found coal miners had families, land and similar hopes to their own. Coal miners found tourism workers did not want to work in a coal mine they liked what they did and needed a stable environment for the future. At the centre of all this was the common discussion of a horse. They all hoped to see Flaxmead bring the Melbourne Cup to the Valley, this common affiliation formed bonds that in time Valley residents would not break.
One thing the Greedy Piggy Creek mob had along with other open cut mining operations was incredible organisation and commitment to enterprise bargaining agreements. Twenty four hour operation was backed up by absenteeism focus by mine management and union alike. It was a small percentage of the work force that flaunted the system. For most some ninety six percent of the work force, a coal mine is a place to earn a good wage, just a job. Everyone was aware that a management structure was essential in maintaining productivity and high wages. A consulting organisation specialising in the issue of National Curriculum Frontline Management certification had recently conducted prior learning accreditation at Greedy Piggy Creek for some of the supervision. It was the first time the experienced female assessor had been in mine the curriculum being accepted by the coal training board as a standard. The lady in question had been heavily involved in the manufacturing industry standards for many years, her final comment after assessing persons and systems was that the manufacturing industry would give its right arm to have people as focused as open cut miners.
The Sydney Cup, as a winner of the Chairman's Handicap Flaxmead was a guaranteed starter. The Greedy Piggy Creek and Fixed Hole mobs had coaches booked, only workers rostered off attended. This time families were being taken. As the arranged exodus grew it became hard to acquire a coach in the valley as enterprises across the shire had the same idea. As Flaxmead's following was so extensive from upper management to the janitor amongst all industries, it was not a place to be seen if you were supposed to be at work. Early on the Saturday a throng of coaches and mini buses carried excited groups from the Hunter region many on their first venture to a race meeting. They dropped their cargo at the entrance to Royal Randwick, the coach pool became overfull and alternate parking arrangements had to be sourced.
Kerry Snow roaming the bar and grassy track side was inundated with questions on the betting system by a flurry of first timers mostly families from the valley. Kerry had become well known for his form knowledge and not just by members of the coal mining industry. Some more mature people were confused at the monetary value displayed for the horse rather that odds such as seven to two or five to one. Kerry understood this as he had followed racing for decades and he also had o get used to the display of direct money value rather than odds when it happened some years back. Younger people completely new to racing were less confused having not ever witnessed the odds values when they were around. He explained that the money value was a direct return for every dollar bet, a horse paying less than two dollars was below even money and a horse showing three dollars was two to one when compared to the old scale. The return showed the dollar bet plus the additional gain should the horse win. The million dollar question asked was did he think Flaxmead would win. His opinion was yes by fifteen lengths. Flaxmead was up against the best stayers in the land for the first time, he carried top weight out of gate seven in the field of twelve. Kerry thought the only way he would loose is if he was relegated to start from the moo
n. This became joke of the day pandered round the groups of the valley taking up most of the viewing areas in the capacity crowd. Kerry Snow was not the only one who was sure of Flaxmead's form, Flaxmead was paying a dollar and ten cents for a win hardly worth the effort but it didn't stop the massive tote on the stallion from mounting up and clear favourite.
Chestnut gelding Carronade owned and run by the smiling assassin was closest odds to Flaxmead at one dollar ninety. The assassin had managed to draw his top horse for the race, if Carronade couldn't run Flaxmead down nothing he had could. Prendergast had two runners Fortitude and Billets Row, both proven grade one winners over three thousand two hundred metres. Geoff Leroy landed three runners in the race, Barons Pride, Chimney Sweep and the rock solid stayer Laura Lee. Main betting was around these known runners but Kerry Snow had a thousand dollars each way bet on a new comer from Scotland. Celtic Storm had a more than impressive background and this was her first race outside the British Isles. Landed in Australia recently the horse made the ballot draw. Form for the five year old bay mare studied by Kerry showed this horse would be within a few lengths of Flaxmead and was paying two dollars fifty.
Flushing Meadow won her first weight for age race the Queen Elizabeth Stakes and Lorraine Wills climbed from her back weighed in and headed for her mount for the feature event. Harper was aware of Celtic Storm in barrier two; he discussed the barrier draw with Loraine.
"Why you telling me Graham, get Lindy to have a word with Flaxmead. All I did last time I rode him was hang on and have a laugh," said Lorraine cynically.
Graham chuckled, "Yeah Lindy says it can be a bit like that, the fact remains that the best starters around are right next to him and he could end up boxed in. Celtic Storm is trained by a bloke called Ross Hildebrand. If past results are anything to go by she'll be with Flaxy on the final turn."
"If I need something out of Flaxy I'll ask for it but till then I'll keep my trap shut and enjoy the ride,"
"Fair enough, Anna and Dylan are on the rail again surrounded by media."
"If he goes to the outside rail not much I can do about it, I think he likes the solid turf out there. Maybe he found that out because of the kids."
"Well we're about to find out." Graham helped Lorraine into Flaxmead's saddle and he started his professional dramatics. It was the worst he had ever been, he reared up and pranced around refusing to allow Jessica to hold the lead rope. She disconnected it and stood clear just before they had gone far and Flaxmead went about demoralising the opposition. His antics were the toast of the grandstands and binoculars were common, some thought his pre and post race antics were better entertainment than his runs.
The field finally arrived at the back of the starting gates in the far south southern corner of the track furthest point from the grandstands. Lorraine fought to control him but he was determined to show the field and the stewards his intentions. Ross Hildebrand watched his antics form the stable complex railings directly next to the three thousand two hundred starting gates. He studied his tactics, if his horse Celtic Storm was going to have a chance at the Melbourne Cup against Flaxmead he knew he would need every ounce of knowledge. Flaxmead pranced directly in front of Hildebrand and caught a smidgen of his scent, he turned and looked right through him tossing his head menacingly. "You recognise me laddie, it's not me you have a gripe with, you're on the wrong track. My friend over there has come a long way to meet you," pouted Hildebrandt. People on the rail adjacent to Hildebrand looked around puzzled at his statement to the black monster one was racing journalist Lee Hayford, she sensed a story and hung in the background.
Flaxmead settled to get closer to his foe he passed Celtic Storm and caught a scent of Hildebrandt. He reinstated and concentrated his demoralisation on the bay mare. Hildebrandt shook his head and looked down. "Damn, he's a smart bugger," he muttered under his breath. The bay mare was caught off guard by the treatment and his jockey had problems so he entered his gate before he would have liked to. Flaxmead shot into gate seven with the final horse to load. "So that's how it's going to be laddie," muttered Hildebrandt. Reporter Lee Hayford stuck next to Hildebrandt side making notes of his muttering. The race caller remarked the race was under the starter, there was a moment of rare silence until the gates burst open.
"And we are away in this years Sydney Cup!" stated the race caller. "And from gate seven the hunter valley thunderbolt snatches the lead pulling across the front of the field heading straight for the rail and going with him is the bay mare Celtic Storm. Bunched up settling in Carronade third followed by Billers Row, Fortitude, Laura Lee the big stayer, Chimney Sweep no where near as black as the hunter valley thunderbolt. Barron's pride sitting seventh with Roman Rage, Stormset and Sun Chaser three wide across the back of the field. - At the first turn it's still the hunter valley thunderbolt holding Celtic Storm on hot on his heels, putting four lengths on the pack and Carronade edged out by Billers Row on the outside of the first turn and Celtic Storm pushes up alongside Flaxmead the big stallion pushing wide to let her in as they approach the first thousand and Celtic Storm takes the lead in the Sydney Cup."
Lorraine felt Flaxmead hold and yield to the mare but sat behind his ears knowing he was way off his pace.
The caller continued with a raise in his voice. "And Celtic Storm takes the lead from the thunderbolt just beyond the thousand and Flaxmead way under his normal pace for a thousand. The pair are pulling clear of the pack eight lengths now, the thunderbolt having an off day or enjoying the scenery. Barons Pride moves up to third ahead of Carronade and Billers Row. Some elbow involved in the mealy there could be one for the stewards as Fortitude goes to the outside boxed in for the last four hundred heading up the pack as we come to the fifteen hundred. It's still Celtic Storm with Flaxmead under her tail you can't put light between them as the field thunders down the back straight to turn four. - Carronade pulls up alongside Laura Lee now holding third place and Barons Pride goes wider again and takes them on as they go into turn four. As we hear the vocal power of the hunter valley crowd chanting the name of their champion, you can probably hear them on the radio or television I've had to lift my voice to compensate. - Heading down for the final turn into the grandstand straight and Flaxmead draws level with Celtic Storm on the outside nothing between them as they round the curve. Twelve lengths on the rest of the field and no one will catch them now. They line up for the final five hundred into the straight and Flaxmead breaks away from the Celtic Storm and heads for the outside rail in front of the crowd, he loves it."
Lorraine bursts out laughing as he gave a massive kick in front of the capacity crowd all on their feet chanting his name. "You bloody show of," she laughed.
The caller was rather excited. "And the hunter valley thunderbolt tears it up, two lengths ahead of Celtic Storm on the rail and he just keeps running faster."
Ross Hildebrandt muttered to himself. "Celtic lassie, never trust an Irish born stallion, he can be beaten lassie. We just need to show you how." Lee Hayford made more notes.
The caller had long discarded his seat and lurched around the caller's cubicle with excitement. "And it's the thunderbolt by six lengths with three hundred to go, I can see little Anna and Dylan Fields standing on the rail at the finish post hard to believe this pair ride their pet around the vineyards of the Hunter Valley. Celtic Storm puts in a push but Flaxmead continues to gain ground and as the black champion catches sight of his owners he puts in an extra kick and it's all over."
Anna and Dylan standing on the railing their feet held steady by their father and mother waved their fist above their heads as Flaxmead crossed the finish line just in front of them chanting his name with the rest of the crowd.
The caller settled a little. "And its Flaxmead still in a record time for three thousand two hundred here at Randwick but only just. And the...- And the crowd know he's on his way to Flemington in November well and truly putting his mark on the Melbourne Cup here today. Roman Rage getting up for third in the final three hundred
the New Zealand stayer from Christchurch. Jack Prendergast Fortitude takes fourth right behind, nothing in it but fifteen lengths from the winners. Chimney Sweep just ahead of Billers Row by a nose for fifth and sixth two lengths back. Carronade just ahead of Barons Pride for seventh and eighth. Followed by Stormset ninth. Sunchaser tenth. And finally Laura Lee just ahead of Atomic both with uncharacteristic poor runs over this distance. There was a bit of shuffle and push in the upper mid field and we'll have to see what pans out with protests."
Lorraine found Flaxmead a handful on the way back to the winners circle. He seemed interested in showing off in front of second place Celtic Storm. He eventually settled down and trotted along beside the mare.
Hildebrand went to walk away from the railing to he stable complex and was interrupted by Lee Hayford. "Excuse me you are Ross Hillenbrand Celtic Storms trainer?"
He replied in a wide Scottish accent. "Yes, who wants to know?"
"My readers, I'm a racing journalist," she held out her hand. "Lee Hayford."
Ross shook her hand. "Ahh you're Lee Hayford. I've read your articles for months now. You're pro Flaxmead so can't see us getting much sense out of you."
"I write it as I see it; you're horse got beaten fair and square."
"Agreed. Every horse has a weakness. He can be beaten."
"You look to have seen him before."
"We've meet before in England."
"England, Flaxmead comes from the hunter valley."
"He was sired in Australia, born in Ireland and trained in England. A clever man found that horse he's a freak of nature. He was trained well."
"Really can you give me more?"
Hildebrand hesitated. "I thought you would have known these things? I watched Sinead Courtney ride that horse. She said, give me that horse and I'll give you the world."
"British champion jockey Sinead Courtney how did she get on him? Do you know any male jockeys that have ridden Flaxmead?"
Hildebrand became more reserved. "Does it make any difference, to beat the horse I need a horse that can run faster. If I don't have a horse that runs faster, I need to find weakness my horse can take advantage of stay with him. This horse has a mind of its own, he loves to race. His smarter than we'd ever imagine. By November I hope work out how to beat him. Celtic Storm can run faster than today, not much or as fast as Flaxmead but enough. I have some ideas from today's experience; one is not giving up."
"I asked a question about male jockeys."
"I have no idea. What I don't know is how two children got hold of the horse."
"They bought it for a hundred dollars destined for the abattoir."
"I canny believe it. The man I meet that owned that horse was a grand man."
"Who was that?"
"Ahh. Maybe he doesn't wanna be known. My focus is getting Celtic Storm into the Melbourne Cup. Cloak and dagger stories don't interest me or change things. Now if you'll excuse me I have to get going."
"Can you tell me anything about Celtic Storm?"
"She's capable of winning the Melbourne Cup."
"Something we don't know."
"I think I've said enough, miss quote me on anything and I won't speak to you again."
"You think I'd write something out of context."
"I'm damn clear you would if you think it'll sell papers or magazines."
A private argument had broken out in the comfort of the members lounge. The assassin confronted Geoff Leroy about blocking a clear run for Carronade twice. Leroy denied he had given any of his rider's instructions, he claimed he had three runners in the race and things didn't go their way, it just looked bad. The assassin held a protest knowing putting Geoff Leroy off side would cause him headaches in the future and he had a big one currently. Carronade his top stayer had been decimated not by one but now two unexpected stars from nowhere. He calmed down and sat down with Geoff Leroy to plan his next moves.
Prendergast chuckled at the bar under his breath as he watched the pair exchange insults. He had missed the mid field antics watching the action from Flaxmead and Celtic Storm. Prendergast already planned to watch the draws for the Liston and Memsie stakes grade two weight for age races run at Caulfield in Victoria. The group one Yalumba Stakes at Caulfield and the Turnbull Stakes group one race run at Flemington Victoria in the near future. These races would see Flaxmead and Celtic Storm get into the Cox Plate and Caulfield Cup should they be successful. He wondered which way it would swing and if both horses would end up in the Melbourne Cup from different races. They hadn't taken on every horse with form around but he could think of nothing that would worry them. He looked forward to the best Melbourne Cup ever, probably his last.
Flaxmead had gone from star to legend in a short period of time and things around the float were hectic as they loaded Flushing Meadow and Flaxmead for departure. Lee Hayford asked a few questions of Harper with several other journalists.
"Graham did you expect a horse with the talent of Celtic Storm to come out of nowhere like it has?" she asked.
"Celtic Storm is the best stayer in Scotland and the UK. She'll win something here soon even against Flaxmead if he messes around like he did today," replied Graham.
"What's next Graham, The 33 Liston stakes or the Memsie," asked Gerard Moyse from the ABC.
"I have no idea we have to wait for the draw," replied Graham.
"Surely Flaxmead will walk into any one of those if he's entered. If he runs elsewhere half the crowed will be missing," insisted Hayford.
"We've entered everything, The Liston, Memsie, The Turnbull, the Yalumba. Of course well be having a go at all of them. We want a Cox Plate or Caulfield Cup for November," stated Graham.
"So you can confirm he's on his way to Caulfield in November," asked Moyse.
"Who's gonna stop him," added Graham. "Besides I don't think he wants to disappoint his owners. They have their hearts set on standing on the rail at Flemington waiting for him to cross the line."
"Will they miss school to see it," asked Hayford.
"You'd send your kids to school under those circumstances would you?" asked Graham.
"I asked you the question Graham not me."
"You idiot, now please excuse us."
Winston Blake entered the stable complex with Gail Flametower in tow and ran straight into Ross Hildebrand.
"Winston Blake, bless my soul."
"Could you excuse us Gail, this is Ross Celtic Storms trainer."
"Well please to meet you," said Gail as she greeted him with her hand. "I will see you at the float Winston." She moved on sensing a delicate situation from the look on Hildebrand's face.
"Ross, you would be the last person I expected to see here."
"I'm not surprised to see you or Flaxmead on top of the heap here. I'm puzzled, gobsmacked, speechless and I could think of a few more things such as the children who own Flaxmead."
"Please could I ask something of you?"
"Absolutely, you want your horse back. I heard a rumour of a hundred dollars. What happened?"
"It's a long story, here's my card. You have any problems at all call me. All I ask is that you say nothing of what you know of Flaxmead's past. Its along story and you will find out in time but please don't upset the apple cart, the horse belongs to the children that's how I see it and I wont have it any other way."
"Well I look forward to that story. Unfortunately I already said a little but not too much. You have my word I'll say nothing."
"Thanks and don't forget you have any problems call."
"Thank you, we have a facility in Sydney here but should things get hot like they sometimes can I'll remember your offer."
"I must go, see you next meeting." They went their separate ways.
Jessica, Lindy and Lorraine were talking on one side of the horse float hidden from the throng. "I don't know why he sat with Celtic Storm, he could have jumped any time but he just sat there till he heard the crowd," said Lorraine.
"That was a close call, that
thing is no slouch. Flaxys gonna find more horses as good as Celtic Storm as he gets closer to Flemington," said Jessica.
"He trotted back next to that, that bay thing. I've never seen him act like that, what a sleaze, he fancies her," cracked Lindy.
"Do you think he's falling in love?" asked Jessica.
"Knowing guys that carry on like him more like falling in lust, what a slug," added Lindy.
"You're jealous," quipped Jessica with a giggle.
"Rubbish, he goes near that bay thing again I'll scratch her eyes out!"