A vast expanse of far-western New South Wales — almost half the state — has been steadily losing residents.
Between 2017 and 2019 the region's population dropped by 1,000 people to 44,500, roughly 1 per cent per year.
The small mining town of Cobar has found itself in the middle of that, both figuratively and geographically.
Since 2006, Cobar's population has shrunk by 400 people and the State Government forecasts the trend will continue.
A town reeling
As people migrate to larger regional centres, the towns they depart are left to pick up the pieces.
Kylie Bullion and her partner run a construction company that is overwhelmed with work; she said they had struggled to attract the staff they needed.
"There's not an availability of qualified carpenters in the town," Ms Bullion said.
"We have had apprentices that we haven't been able to retain; that's because I believe they were used to a mining roster of seven on, seven off, and also the pay — it's difficult to compete with the mining wages."
She said people had found it hard to secure housing in Cobar and the isolation of the town was a deterrent for some people.
"In our situation, we've considered offering above-award wages, including housing in a package, trying to make it more appealing for people to actually come out here."
Last month, the only local long day care centre in town experienced a week of "forced stoppage" after it could not find staff and closed its doors.
Kubby House Child Care Centre president Bonnie Fullagar said the effect was widespread.
"The centre's really important to Cobar because we're the only long day care centre in town, so this is affecting 40 families, so every business in the Cobar community is affected," Ms Fullagar said.
"The committee members have all got children at the centre as well, so we've all had to take leave from work to come and help reopen the centre."
It has reopened, but with fewer staff and children in attendance.
A mining quagmire
A proposal to expand the Peak Gold Mine just minutes out of town is not filling residents with hope for drastic change.
Rather than engaging with the private rental market, fly-in-fly-out workers, like underground diesel mechanic Wayne Austin, live in temporary dongas designed for short-term visits.
He said he had no intention of bringing his family to the town.
"My whole life's in Broken Hill, got my house and kids and all my family there. I don't have anything here," he said.
"There's probably a bit less here than Broken Hill for your family to do or whatever, so that's why I pretty well haven't moved over there — because there's not much here to do other than go to work."
Optimistic for the future
But some local businesses thrive off short-term stints, like Bridgette Mackay's second-hand shop in the main street.
"A lot of people come to Cobar hoping on making money so they can leave and go elsewhere to buy maybe a house or something like that," she said.
"They come in to buy gear from me, and obviously a lot of them only stay for that one to six months; I'll go buy it back off them or they'll give it back to me and return it."
Three generations of Ms Mackay's family live in Cobar, and while the town has changed, she said she still held hope for its future.
"It is sad that the shops close and none reopen in place of them, so the town sort of does look a bit deserted," she said.
"But it always comes back very strong, Cobar does, and the community is so community-minded here — everyone sticks together and helps each other out."
.jpg?w=600)
