Dawn had not broken and in the gloomy dark a group of men, one by one, enter a gaping hole in the ground.  They descend into the main shaft of the coal mine that reached about 100 metres below the surface.

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Bent over, they hasten down the low, narrow tunnel, like rats scurrying along a drain.  The intense dark was broken only by the flicker of small lamps carried by a few of the men.  The air is clammy, and moisture seeps from every surface.  Their bare feet are splashing through the water that lies on the tunnel floor. 

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At the coalface, the men take up picks and shovels to continue the previous day’s assault on the coal seam.   Under the weight of the work, their sinewy muscles strain, and soon the men are drenched in sweat even though they are only dressed in trousers.  Coal dust blackens every inch of their exposed bodies, making it difficult to recognise individuals in the dark.

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The earth lets out a mournful groan.  Everyone stops and listens.  The men’s laboured breathing only breaks the silence.  (A cave-in was not the only danger faced by the men.  Floods and toxic gas could occur at any time and without warning.)  A voice barks menacingly out of the dark “get back to work you lazy good-for-nothin’s.”  The overseer had come to see why work had ceased.  The men quickly resume their work; tired muscles and weary limbs muster a little extra strength, for to defy the overseer meant a certain flogging or seven nights or more in solitary confinement on bread and water.

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The miners fill basket after basket then struggle through the narrow confines to manhandle the coal to the surface.  Twenty-five tons of coal was required for each shift to reach the day’s quota.

Cogs grind, and wheels creak as each basket of coal inches its way to the surface.  The sun beats down on the men operating the hand-driven winches, which strain under the load of the coal basket.  They curse but not too loudly, for the ears of the overseer are never far away.

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Nearby, two men raise and lower buckets to remove water from the mine.  Another gang below the surface operates the draw-pump to drain water from deep within the mine into a collection well.  On average, these men raised around 450 litres of water each hour.

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A coal basket reaches the surface.  Quickly, rough and callused hands grab and upturn it to deposit the contents into the waiting coal cart where it is quickly filled by the continuous flow of coal baskets.  Work on the surface was no less arduous than the work below, but the hazards were greatly reduced. 

Night has fallen, and the convicts returned to the barracks.  Another backbreaking day has ended.

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The overseer's voice breaks the quiet of the evening, "Every second man on parade in the morning.  You, you and you!" he yelled pointing at the selected men.  Without a word spoken, they wonder which of their mates would meet the cat-of-nine-tails.

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At dawn, the parade assembles, prisoners shuffling uneasily.  The sentenced man's hands are lashed to the triangle.  His bare back is facing the flagellator.  The sergeant of the guard reads out the prisoner's name.  "For refusing to obey an overseer's order, you are sentenced to 36 lashes".  The sudden, searing pain of the first lash knocks the breath out of the convicted man.  He struggles not to cry out.  A voice in the background counts the lash, "One"!  The prisoner clenches his fists so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and he grits his teeth, steeling himself for the next blow.

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These long years of suffering for the convict coal miners started soon after a group of surveyors found coal at Plunkett Point in 1833.  Convicts were sent from Port Arthur to commence the mining operations and dispatched the first load of coal on the ship 'Kangaroo' in June 1834 making Plunkett Point Tasmania's first operating coal mine.

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In 1841, the Mine was partly mechanised when a steam engine was installed to pump the water from the mine.  However, miners still lifted the coal by hand-driven winding wheels.  Later in 1846, a 750-metre inclined plane tramway was constructed between the mineshaft and the Plunkett Point jetty.  The self-acting tramway worked on a continuous loop system, on which laden coal carts would travel down one line while drawing empty carts back to the mineshaft on a parallel line.  The remains of the main tramway are still visible.

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The Plunkett Point coalmines became a punishment station for Port Arthur.  Convicts sent to work at the mine site were recidivists - repeat offenders of 'the worst class'.  By the end of the 1830's, 170 convicts were working the Plunkett Point Coal Mines.  Towards the mid-1840's, the number had increased to 600 due to the cessation of placing convicts in private service.  Motherwell in 1846 summarised the types of men working at the mine as "men of every class, age and station, whether he had been a thief, burglar, deserter, poacher, or forger, whether convicted of manslaughter, rape, bigamy, embezzlement or highway robbery.” 

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Conditions at Plunkett Point were harsh and strict discipline was enforced on the convicts by the military and overseers.  Justice was the bite of the lash, incarceration in the punishment cells, or in some cases, both.  The cat-o'-nine tails ripped at humble flesh, with up to 100 lashes meted out for a transgression against the regulations.  The punishment cells under the east wing of the barracks are stark reminders of the harsh justice meted out to the prisoners.  The cells measure seven feet by four feet (a little over two metres by 1.3 metres).  The underground cells behind the Officers Quarters are more foreboding; so dark that there is no distinction between night and day.  The cells have no windows and would have had been barred by a heavy wooden door.  The solitary confinement for weeks on end would have driven most mortals crazy.  Standing in one of the underground cells, the eeriness of the place is overwhelming. 

The Government at the time raised much concern about the value of the mine.  The quality of the coal was poor, and mine production was very low, the incidence of immoral activity was a major issue and, the difficulty of maintaining discipline and supervision, all contributing to the disquiet.  Many believed that the underground workings were "sinkholes of vice and infamy".  The mine closed 'on both moral and financial grounds' in 1848. 

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Today, the mine site is silent except for the birds calling in the bush, the wind rustling through the trees and the gentle lapping of the sea on the shoreline.  The idyllic bush setting and the serenity of the sea belies the hardship and suffering endured by the convicts.  However, walking around the crumbling sandstone and brick ruins, the sense of the happenings of over 170 years ago is possible.  Officers and overseers barking orders, the curses of the prisoners, the chinking of picks and shovels against the coal face, the cranking of the winches, and the rattle of the carts running down the line; the sounds that were the heartbeat of the mine seem to linger.

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The Plunkett Point coalmine site is located on the Tasman Peninsula.  As you drive south towards Port Arthur, turn right just past Tarana Devil Park.  Drive approximately 6 kilometres, then turn right into Saltwater River.  The site is managed by the Tasmanian Parks and Wildlife Service.