Crossing created by birdbrains

The cost of a bridge to allow cassowaries to safely cross the Bruce Highway has blown out to $40m – but the flightless birds aren’t able to use it.

If you have driven up the Bruce Highway over the past couple of years, you might have wondered what the futuristic looking dome is that crosses the road between Tully and Innisfail. It looks like one of those low-profile camouflage hangars the Royal Australian Air Force uses to park jet fighters.

There was little public discussion about it before work started back in late 2019.

You’d drive past and sigh and say resignedly to yourself, “What are they doing now?”

Word crept out that it was a land bridge crossing for cassowaries. This was when people started saying, “Yeah, pull the other one, it plays The Purple People Eater.”

And then it started taking shape and we realised this was going to be the only tunnel on the Bruce Highway between Brisbane and Cairns.

It was originally estimated to cost $10m and would be ready for the cassowaries in 2020.

Oops … it only opened in March this year and holy cow, the cost blew out from $10m to $40m. Those cassowaries better use it.

Of course, this whole thing led to much mirth and merriment and sold a lot of beer in pubs up and down the Bruce Highway and across the Tableland as blokes and blokesses of great vision stood at the bar and around barbies discussing whether cassowaries were going to give the crossing the thumbs up.

It’s all a matter of thinking like a cassowary …or even thinking like galahs as some people unkindly said about the dream team behind the highway crossing.

You can just hear the head honcho cassowary telling the troops when they meet for their weekly pow-wow: “OK, guys, the people from the guvment, that’s them with lots of Biros in their pockets who come up here in those shiny four-wheel-drive utes have built this super-duper crossing for us, so from now on this is where we all head when we want get from A to B.

“Anyone got a problem with that?”

Yes, we hope it works and that cassowaries will use it because if there is one thing that can cruel your day, it’s the sight of a dead cassowary on the side of the road.

But, seriously, will the big birds use it? Or will it only get used when one of them, just by chance, happens to come across the bridge when moving east-west or vice versa.

Ned has been working for Queensland Rail for 30 years. He’s had enough and yearns for the wide open spaces. So he answers an ad in the Townsville Bully for a grader driver on a station north of Charters Towers.

He’s soon grading firebreaks, fence lines and station roads and making sure the stock troughs are clean and the bores are working.

He moves from camp to camp, driving his grader, which tows a caravan for him to sleep in. At the end of three months, he’s camped on the northern boundary grading the fence line. Saturday afternoon comes around and he knocks off early and boils himself a billy of tea. “Life’s pretty good,” thinks Ned.

“I’ve only got myself and the birds and the kangaroos for company and don’t have to worry about some seat-shining cretin in Brisbane ringing me up about performance reviews and monthly reports.”

Then an old Land Rover pulls up. A big bloke with a beard down to his chest and wearing a cotton work shirt with the cut-off sleeves showing tattooed biceps a brindle dog couldn’t jump over steps out. “Thought I’d find ya around here,” he says. “I’m Little Bill, the grader driver from next door.

“I heard you waz camped over here so I thought I’d come over and say g’day.”

Ned shakes his hand. “I’m Ned, please to meet you mate,” he says. “Well, this could be your lucky day. I’m only camped 7km up along that road there,” Little Bill says, pointing to a two-wheel track.

“I’m having a party tonight and I thought you might like to come,” says Little Bill.

Ned is delighted. “That’ll be great, Little Bill,” he says. “It’s only been three months but it feels like three years since I’ve been to anything like a party.” “OK,” says Little Bill. “I’ll see you later.” He stops before he gets back in the Land Rover and says, “I better warn you, there’s bound to be some serious heavy drinking.”

“Hey, Little Bill. I’m a Queensland Rail main. Drinking hot VB and OP rum was part of the job description. Why do you think the trains are always late, ha ha,” laughs Ned.

“And I gotta warn you as well … there’s always some fightin’,” says Little Bill. “Someone usually gets hurt.” Ned shrugs and says, “Well, I’m a lover not a fighter so I’ll try and stay clear of any fights.”

“That’s good you’re a lover, Ned, because there’s bound to be some wild sex as well,” says Little Bill. Ned says: “This sounds like it’s going to be my sort of party.”

Little Bill shouts as he gets into the Land Rover: “I’ll see ya at 6pm.” Ned gives him a wave, adding: “Hey, Little Bill, I haven’t got much in the way of fancy clothes. What should I wear?”

Little Bill shouts back: “Wear what you like. It’ll only be you and me.”