A significant majority of people who took part in the Northern Territory government’s inquiry into fracking said the industry was not safe, trusted or wanted. “It must be noted that the strong antipathy surrounding hydraulic fracturing for onshore shale gas demonstrated during the consultations did not abate,” the inquiry committee, headed by Justice Rachel Pepper, wrote in its final report. Nancy McDinny supervises a mini-bulldozer drilling on the Northern Territory Parliament's lawn in Darwin in April as part of a group of traditional owners protesting against fracking proposals for their land. Yet as you read this, two new drilling rigs for exploratory fracking are under construction and another site approved for “civil works”. Ultimately, the inquiry found fracking risks could be reduced to “acceptable” levels - provided its 135 recommendations were implemented in their entirety. While the fight against giant coal projects like the proposed Adani mine in Queensland has dominated the bandwidth of the climate change debate, the territory’s nascent fracking industry has largely travelled under the national radar. But this looks set to change. Australia’s greenhouse gas emissions have risen to their highest rate in five years, driven by a surge in liquid natural gas (LNG) production that means we have overtaken Qatar as the world’s biggest exporter of this fossil fuel.

The government inquiry estimated greenhouse emissions from any new large shale gas field in the territory would contribute around 6 per cent of all Australian emissions. Fracking opponents believe it could be much higher and say that in the context of anthropogenic climate change, investment in emissions-intensive fracking makes no sense. Gas exploration drills parked near the roadhouse at Daly Waters in the Northern Territory. Credit:Justin McManus Fracking’s supporters argue new technologies can reduce emissions by capturing gas during construction and through stricter leakage controls on equipment. Keld Knudsen, the territory director for the Australian Petroleum Production and Exploration Association, says developing the onshore gas resources could also secure the Northern Territory’s future for “decades” through new jobs and royalty payments to the government. Hydraulic shale fracking involves injecting large volumes of water, mixed with sand and chemicals, into sedimentary shale rock at high pressure, creating fine cracks so that gas flows into the well. Only a portion of the “flowback” water and chemicals return to the surface. Sometimes these can be reused but otherwise they must be stored, treated and removed. While still in the exploratory phase domestically, in the United States the rapid expansion of fracking, and lackadaisical regulation in some jurisdictions, have resulted in significant environmental damage. In the public imagination “fracking” became synonymous with water contamination, environmental damage and long-term health problems.

Hydraulic fracking has been banned in Victoria and is the subject of a moratorium in Tasmania. New South Wales has a restrictive “go slow” approach after strong community opposition. Last year Western Australia lifted its moratorium on fracking, saying 98 per cent of the state would remain "frack free". In Queensland, rapid industry expansion over a decade means there are now around 6000 gas wells. The incoming NT Labor government imposed a moratorium on the fledgling industry in 2016 and Chief Minister Michael Gunner appointed a scientific panel to investigate the environmental, social, cultural and economic risks. The federal government supports a resumption. Last month at a mining conference in Darwin, Federal Minister for Resources and Northern Australia Matthew Canavan said: “We are going to need to support a large [NT] gas industry to get costs down to a competitive rate.” About 70 per cent of the shale gas in the territory is believed to occur in the Beetaloo Basin, around 500 kilometres south-east of Darwin. Three petroleum companies - Origin, Santos and Pangaea - told the government inquiry up to 1200 wells could be sunk over the next 25 years.

It’s these figures that keep Ray Dimakarri Dixon, a Mudburra elder and musician, awake at night. At his home in Marlinja, a small community north of Elliott, cyclones soak the plains every wet season. Rain submerges the tree roots and replenishes the underwater aquifers. Mudburra elder Ray Dimakarri Dixon near Marlinja in the Northern Territory. Credit:Justin McManus “The monsoon is a thick, dark, slow-motion rain. It’s quiet. It just rains and rains and rains, and it’s so thick sometimes you can’t see the distance,” Dixon says. “The lake overflows, all the creeks, the monsoon it comes and it rains for two months and fills the whole area up.” But last summer, the wet didn’t really come. The territory’s most recent wet season was the hottest on record and the driest in 27 years; rainfall was just two-thirds of the average. And cyclones only delivered a "glancing blow" that did little to add to rainfall. It’s impossible to overstate the importance of groundwater in the territory. About 90 per cent of regional water demand is supplied by groundwater, through bores. The Beetaloo Basin sits below the Tindall limestone aquifer, a large underground water system that feeds springs and rivers throughout the region.

Dixon is concerned that fracking will reduce the availability of groundwater for traditional owners and local communities as the climate crisis continues, and imperil Mudburra country. Petroleum companies have failed to properly consult with the region’s traditional owners, he says. “The Mudburra went with the agreement because they didn’t know this mining mob were coming around and talking the smooth way,” says Dixon. “They made agreements and didn’t understand what they were signing up for.” They made agreements and didn’t understand what they were signing up for. Ray Dimakarri Dixon A spokesperson for the Northern Land Council said in its experience gas companies understand and respect the role of land councils. It would not enter into any agreement were it not satisfied that traditional Aboriginal owners were adequately consulted and understood the nature of the agreement, they added. The government inquiry considered the risk fracking would use an excessive amount of groundwater and drew the startling conclusion that there was “insufficient information” to fully assess the risks to groundwater resources from fracking in the Beetaloo Basin.

But the evidence was “unequivocal” that spills of chemicals and contaminated wastewater would occur, it found. This contaminated water would be “unlikely” to soak through 30-plus metres of soil to underwater aquifers - but the bigger risk is that it would pollute surface water. Last month, trucks began moving fracking machinery south from Darwin, prompting Katherine locals to drive their cars at a snail’s pace along the highway in front of trucks as a delaying tactic. Similar go-slow convoys in the Daly Waters region made one company relocate its worksite. One of the “go slow” drivers was Katherine veterinarian Sam Phelan, who says fracking has united the usually conservative town of 6000 people. The farm where Phelan lives with her young family is under application for gas exploration. Katherine vet Sam Phelan on the farm where she lives, a property under application for gas exploration. Credit:Justin McManus Standing on her back verandah, Phelan points out a flock of galahs alighting on a water trough and squabbling in the evening sun. The garden is cornucopia of wildlife: lavender beetles, insectivorous bats, paper wasps, grey moths, black cockatoos. The true extent of the territory’s unique biodiversity is still not fully understood or appreciated, Phelan says.

“They could have a massive wastewater pool right next to the breeding ground of vulnerable species and no one would ever know. You hope and pray that they never get a decent well, that the ground won’t give it up,” she says. You hope and pray that they never get a decent well, that the ground won’t give it up. Sam Phelan The government inquiry said that over the last decade the gas industry had moved to use less toxic and more readily degradable chemicals. Origin and Santos said multiple controls were put in place when a well was drilled and if checks are not met the well would not be fracked. Several layers of steel and cement separate the productive part of the well from underground layers of rock and water. But bitter experience has made Katherine residents cynical about government recommendations. Perfluoroalkyl and polyfluoroalkyl substances, more commonly known as PFAS, were toxic chemicals used in firefighting foam at nearby RAAF Base Tindal until 2010, when investigations showed Katherine’s waterways and bores had been contaminated. A jabiru wades near Marlinja, north of Elliott in the Northern Territory. Anti-fracking protesters say the threat to groundwater and biodiversity in the territory has not been properly accounted for. Credit:Justin McManus

In July, the whole of the Katherine municipality was declared a fracking no-go zone, which residents described as a “bittersweet victory” that left near neighbours exposed. A decade ago, most Territorians had never heard of fracking. But as global investment in coal became increasingly unpopular, petroleum companies repositioned natural gas as a “bridging fuel” and ramped up the search for new reserves. Gas-fired electricity only emits about half the carbon dioxide of coal, but liquid natural gas (LNG) production remains an emissions-intensive process. Carbon dioxide is emitted when gas is extracted and during compression and decompression, and methane vents directly from gasfield developments. The term “natural gas” in a misnomer, says Gavin Mudd, an associate professor at RMIT’s school of chemical and environmental engineering. “It’s still a fossil fuel, it’s still a greenhouse gas, and it’s not something we should be chasing down in an era of climate change,” he says. Pastoralist Colin Ross is concerned about the environmental legacy of fracking on the cattle station he hopes to leave to his children. From the air, his 1400-square-kilometre Maryfield Station stretches to the horizon. At the station homestead the sun glints on sprinkler-fed lawns and new steel cattle feedlots.

The Maryfield Station, owned by Colin Ross. Credit:Justin McManus Ross built a fortune in mining gold and other commodities, but left the industry and bought into farms and cattle. He’s now worth $200 million and his company, North Star Pastoral, owns five stations including Maryfield across the territory and Queensland. This year Ross received a letter from Hancock Prospecting’s Jacaranda Minerals, which said it was applying to the NT government to undertake exploration tests on his land. “I’m not too keen on that. I’ve worked in mining and I know what they do,” says Ross. “Mining is an ugly industry and its environmental responsibility is terrible. It’s just profit, everything is profit.” Ross is in legal negotiations with the company. Mining is an ugly industry and its environmental responsibility is terrible. It’s just profit, everything is profit. Colin Ross The reality is that landholders - private landowners, native title owners or pastoralists - have few legal rights to stop fracking. Lawyer Marylou Potts specialises in advising landholders who have miners seeking access. The territory’s laws mean an exploration permit holder (a gas or petroleum company) has an exclusive right to explore, she says.

"I know what they do": Colin Ross is in legal negotiations with Jacaranda Minerals over exploration on his property. Credit:Justin McManus “This legislation allows the title holder to simply give notice and then walk on and do what they want. It’s quite different from NSW and Queensland legislation, where they can’t come onto land without an access arrangement,” says Potts. As senior Alawa women Naomi Wilfred and May August pick their way through the paperbark trees and pandanus that fringe the waterhole they’ve come to visit, they call out to the old people in language: “We’re back, we’ve brought visitors.” This pool, and others nearby, are always full, fed by springs that rise from deep underground. The waterways in this region are connected; if fracking contaminates one it might spread to others, says Wilfred. At least one petroleum company has an exploration licence over Alawa land. A large group of traditional owners are headed to Sydney this month for Origin Energy’s annual general meeting to challenge the company to provide the information presented to them during consultations to form access agreements, which they say was inadequate. Origin disputes this, saying it has held seven on-country meetings with native titleholder families.