Baxter Timeline

Meeting in Port Augusta before travelling out to the concentration camp.

The concentration camp, as seen from the main highway.

Arrival! After (only) 22 hours on the bus for the Sydney mob, we finally made it to Baxter. Perth mob spent days in transit.

The first police roadblock. They were letting people through, but checking bags and not letting camping gear through.

After negotiation they agreed to let us through. Rumor has it that they wanted us to camp at the top of the hill (where we ended up camping).

On the other side of the hill they formed another line, and this one we didn

Back up the hill, we set up properly. Starting with Food Not Bombs who provided food for many of us.

Saturday and the first meeting. We decided to march down to the detention centre.

RTS Sydney campsite, with parachute.

Marching to the centre

Getting our placards smashed up by the police...

The official sign outside the main gates.

The boundary fence got a hammering, from the police as well as the protestors.

The horses were important to them.

Illegal kite-flyer arrested after being caught red-handed. String him up, I say!

Anarchist guitarists were also a menace.

The main gate. We sang, we chanted, we banged on the gate and the fence. They hit people and arrested them.

As spoken by a prisoner inside woomera last year, nd shown on the documentary video. One of the more heart-wrenching parts of that video.

Looking through the crowd towards- the main gates.

Radio Free Baxter.

The dunnies! A triumph of modern engineering techknowlogy.

The first roadblock. It was very exciting most of the time. Not like this at all.

Saturday night we went down again at about sunset.

To chant and yell and make our presence felt.

A group got around the back of the centre, and was eventually herded out.

Vigil outside the main gates.

Being herded back up to camp from the main gates.

Someone set off some flares from hills overlooking our camp. Thats a red flare and the moon.

Rock For Refugees played to a small audience while the protestors were busy elsewhere.

Sunrise, Sunday morning. The police had their generator and lights going all night. We also got frequent overflights by the helicopter, and minor harrassment as we moved through their checkpoints.

Back down to the centre.

There was dust, and wind, which made the camp a bit hard on all of us. Not as bad as rain and mud, and a fuckload better than being inside the centre.

The evil terrorist protestors and their fleet of illegal balloons prepare for another assault on the detention centre.

The boundary fence was looking a bit thin in places by Sunday.

Not least because the cops didn

Front gates, Sunday morning.

The balloon launch.

Horses, cameras, guards. And this is just the outside of the prison.

Socialists, megaphones, what more can  say.

Moving back up to our camp for lunch.

The Radical Cheerleaders.

Police marching around outside the camp under escort.

That pipe was very useful - a barrier to police chasing people, a walkway to move along, a billboard for slogans, and a high point to stand on. Oh, it carries water too.

Saturday night was windy, Sunday morning we had a few willy-willys in camp.

Protest outside the prison on our way out of town.

Local aboriginal radio station were around all weekend interviewing people.