Theodore's Goldmine In Fiji

Operations at an Interesting Stage in a Model Township

By R. W. Robson

1N 1932, Mr. Pat Costello, well-known Suva trader, who had been seeking gold in Fiji for 17 years, and had burned his fingers on at least three occa sions, sent an old Australian prospector, the late William Borthwick, to look over some gold indications in the valleys be hind Tavua. . m Borthwick struck it rich; the Tavua lode was discovered; the famous Emperor and Loloma mines were established by Mr E. G. Theodore; and Pat Costello— who chased the rainbow and grinned while his neighbours jeered—is to-day one of Fiji’s wealthiest and most esteemed residents.

Once, in these columns, I wrote that gold was now coming close to sugar as Fiji’s most important wealth-producing industry. Some clever lad wrote sneer ingly to point out that both sugar and gold companies were owned by “foreigners”—that the rich profits of each industry went abroad. That is true, up to a point; but what all these Leftist thinkers overlook is that only a frac tion of all the newly created wealth goes overseas to reward the investors who risked their capital in Fiji—all the rest remains in the Colony.

I shall deal with the CSR Company’s achievements and record in another article. The following figures, relating to the operations of the two Theodore gold companies (Emperor and Loloma) are sufficient to show what the establishment of a big industry can do for a country like Fiji.

BILL BORTHWICK found the gold in 1932. Theodore and his engineers joined Borthwick and Costello at Tavua soon after. Emperor began pro ducing in 1935, and Loloma in 1937. Up to June, 1945, those two great mines, and some much smaller associated show's, had produced 650,000 ounces of gold; and the total value of gold and silver, to the same date, was £6,000,000. The best year was 1941, when there were 108,557

ounces, and production was worth £1,054,585.

Up to the end of 1944, the companies spent, on plant, buildings and develop ment, £1,371,627. They employed between 1,000 and 1,700 men, and their total of wages and salaries ranged between £120,000 and £lBO,OOO per annum.

We might take, as an average year, 1942. That year, the companies pro duced gold and silver worth £771,288. This is how it-was disposed of; — £ Wages and salaries 128,322 Goods bought through Fiji firms 130,465 Various taxes collected by Fiji Government 119,722 Every penny of that money remained in Fiji; and a large proportion of the remaining quarter of a million or so of the expenditure necessary divi dends for shareholders also remained in Fiji. , J An interesting calculation shows that right up until the end of 1943, the Gov ernment of Fiji, every day, including Sundays and holidays, was receiving over £3OO per day in direct taxation from the Tavua gold-mines—or about £l3 per hour, day and night.

IT is, of course, a shocking thing—as our lusty young Leftist economists will point out over their beer in the Suva clubs at 4.30 p.m.—that those Collins Street gamblers should remove £50,000 or maybe £lOO,OOO away out of Fiji in the shape of profits. But if that private enterprise had not been allowed to come in and take the usual risks (and rewards) of gold-mining, six million pounds would still be buried in the earth at Tavua, and the people of Fiji would not have benefited to the extent of three or four million pounds.

I am reminded of a recent incident. A famous Australian banker was visiting Fiji; and, in talking with the father of the gold-field, and thinking of how America for so long bought all the avail

able gold and stored it in Fort Knox, he remarked: “Doesn’t seem much sense in it—you just take it out of one hole in the ground and put it into another.”

Quick as a flash, Pat Costello replied: “Right, sir! I calculate there are at least 10,000 ounces still buried in my lease at Vatukoula. You can have the lot, as it lies there, for £2 per ounce.”

BUT the Tavua goldfield is not show ing anything like the production of 1940 and 1941. Look at these figures:—

Ore treated in 1939 was worth consider ably more than £4 per ton. Ore treated in 1944 is worth only about £2/10/- per ton. The fall-off is mostly in the value of the Loloma ore.

In 1939, 32,814 tons from Loloma were worth £385,549. In 1944, 22,579 tons were worth only £137,235.

There certainly has been a decline in the value of the EToloma ore treated, and Loloma is roughly equal to half the total volume; and there also is a marked re duction in the quantity of ore treated in the one big mill which serves the whole group of mines. This may be due to policy (what is the use of digging up a lot of gold and then paying away so much of it in punitive taxation in Aus tralia, where most of the shareholders live?); or it may be due to the prevail ing shortage of labour (only an average of 973 men were empoyed in 1944, com pared with about 1,700 in the peak years).

There is no doubt that, pending fur ther developments, there is dwindling value in the Loloma lodes. But, having recently visited the mines, and listened to the discussions of some wise men there, I am inclined to think that, before many years have passed, the companies will be distributing rich dividends again. I base my simple layman’s opinion upon these facts: • There is no doubt about the richness of the ground immediately around these mines; and, if mining operations are off the lodes just now, they soon will pick them ud again. Everything sugests that there is rich ground, also, at the lower and almost unexplored levels. • A very considerable rearrangement of surface operations will make for more economical working. • In view of the merciless taxation imposed upon such enterprises as this in Australia (where most of the shares are held) it would be sound management to spend in developments and improvements, in these years, money that otherwise would be distributed in dividends.

I saw nothing around those mines to suggest that the mines are sick. But I did see a great deal to indicate that good, sound developmental operations are under way, and that preparations are afoot for a large increase in production, when circumstances justify a bigger and better output.

NINE years have passed since I first visited Vatukoula, and saw the first buildings being erected. Within three or four years of that time, before World War II became sticky, Vatukoula was producing gold worth a million.

Fijian per annum. Then came the Paci fic war; and Vatukoula’s presiding genius, E G Theodore, was called away to an Australian war job of vital importance.

But. although E. G. Theodore was en gaged on huge enterprises thousands of miles away, his soul, like that of the famous John Brown, went marching on in his rich Vatukoula valley.

The spirit of E. G. Theodore was ex

Ore Value treated Ounces £ 1939 .. .. 204,719 98,549 869,217 1940 .. .. 190,970 101,331 970,646 1941 .. .. 190,729 108 557 1.054,585 1942 .. .. 145,887 81,261 771,288 1943 .. .. 157.179 58,323 556,734 1944 .. .. 158,775 40,192 391,342

nressed not so much in the development oPthe mhies af h? th? establishment of f modeftown In 1936 to tSxS on a hilltop ‘rare” he said “there will be a nower statfon Ovlr there will be the Moma shaft Bevond we are building hoiisS for the labourers Around there on that flope we shall have the Euronesian community Along those clones on the left will be the residences nf the Fnroneans ” t! 4.1/ ' ; . i . iVI . ?t was then merely a blue-print lx me “w it an ?n betag P a pretty litlle town set among lawns and gardens. The houses have every modern convenience.

Electric light and power come from the great oil-engined dynamos on the hilltop* water comes from pump-fed reservoirs on another hilltop. There is a large school between the Euronesian and Fijian communities; a golf-course of most attractive appearance is out beyond the Dolphin mine. The whole place is

green, clean, tidy and well ordered. There is none of the dirt and squalor which one just naturally looks for around mines.

Crowning it all, on the highest hilltop, is the lovely “bure” (or native house) of the master planner, E. G. Theodore.

I stood there, and looked out over it all, and chuckled as my mind went back more than 20 years, to the days when the little pin-heads tied a propagandist tin can to the tail of “Red Ted Theodore,” and finally chased him out of politics.

All that this man has since achieved in building great private enterprises, might have been achieved in the service of Aus tralia. Instead of which we have had a grim cycle of Scullins and Bruces, Lyons and Curtins. . . .

WHAT is the Dolphin mine, you ask. I wondered if you would notice that reference.

The Dolphin mine is almost as great a mystery to me as to you. It is not far from the Loloma mine, and southwards

of same; it is being worked on a .small scale by a small syndicate, and it is not hkely to become a company flotation; its ore is being treated at the Emperor mill; and when those who know are asked what the returns are like, they turn coyly and blushmgly away Rumour-that lying jade-says the returns are phenomenal. i did not visit the Dolphin; and, as I wa s a guest on the place, I did not like to ask too many questions. But I still am mightily intrigued by that Dolphin min e.

T HERE iS no „ thi ? B f ° r the s «" °" 1 the Vatukoula mines - just vast masses of machinery moving steadily, in noisy rhythm. With patience and perspiration. I followed the processes through endless, echoing halls from crushing to concentration, seeking eagerly for a glimpse of just one of those thou sands of ounces which have made Emperor and Loloma famous. But all the gold I saw there was in a photograph

of piled-up ingots, on the manager’s office wall.

So I went out across the little ridge, onto Pat Costello’s lease, where brother Tom Costello is working what he claims to be the smallest mill in captivity—and making a comfortable income. And he put into my hands three little soft dollops, like hazel-nuts, and there, in the tiniest specks, was Tavua gold.

They have only scratched the surface of the Costello lease. Deep digging almost certainly will reveal great wealth.

That mysterious Dolphin mine is just around the corner of the hill.