The Min Min Light Mystery

Out-of-this-world adventures on Pitta Pitta Country in Outback Queensland, Australia

On the road again

“What the beep is a giant chicken doing in the middle of the highway?!” I shrieked.

A colossal, black, poultry-looking bird was loitering in the centre of the road surrounded by crows; all of whom were feasting on some kind of squished furry animal. Only when the gigantic chicken took off did it reveal its identity: a magnificent wedge-tailed eagle; one of dozens my friend and I would encounter on our outback odyssey.

We were on our way to Boulia: a remote Queensland town of about 300 residents, for one reason and one reason alone – Boulia was known as the Land of the Min Min light.

That’s all well and good, but what on Earth is a Min Min light?

No one really knows and it’s possible they never really will!

Try me.

Right, well a Min Min light is essentially a glowing ball or disc-shaped sphere that suddenly appears out of nowhere. It can look like a headlight, or the light of a torch or lantern, and is usually seen hovering around the horizon, about eye height. Its favourite pastime seems to be following people (often when they’re driving alone in their car) sometimes over great distances. It can be white, red, yellow, green or even change colour, brightness and size, just to keep you on your toes. What’s more, the light can appear and disappear on a whim, change direction, dance, speed up, bounce around, come at you with terrific speed, circle around you or even pre-empt which direction you’re going to take. It can also split into two if the mood takes it. Even more perplexing, the Min Min light leaves no trail, emits no sound or smell, nor leaves an explanatory calling card.

The best part is if you’re game enough to chase it, you’ll never be able to catch it.

Exactly how long has this been going on?!

The Min Min light has been cruising around since the Dreamtime with seemingly no plans to stop scaring the pants off anyone anytime soon.

Sounds terrifying!

Sure, but the good news is the light has never harmed anyone; it’s more people harm themselves trying to get away from it.

Surely there’s some deeply respected scientific explanation for all this luminous tomfoolery?

Sure, but why take all the fun out of it? Theories about the Min Min light are as varied as the eyewitness accounts.

It could be a shimmering swarm of insects, like fireflies. It maybe a light refraction from the atmosphere, radon gas stuck to electrostatic dust, an optical illusion known as the Fata Morgana, a corona discharge like St. Elmo’s Fire (Emilio Estévez not included), an earthquake light that follows fault lines, or a will-o’-the-wisp appearing over water.

Ball lightning has been proposed as another theory (even though that’s both stinky and noisy and the Min Min doesn’t like to appear when there’s storms). How about phosphorescent algae or fungi that gets coated on the wings of an owl who then flies around confusing people? Or emus adorning themselves in phosphorescent dust to accidentally get their glow on?! If none of that floats your boat, other theories include piezoelectricity from quartz rocks, electromagnetic radiation, asteroids, animal eyes, actual car headlights or the beam from a hunter’s spotlight. That’s before you’ve even extended the supernatural possibilities to include an angel or, depending on the region, a being from the stars, the spirits of elders or loved ones passed away – according to different indigenous beliefs.

A common view around Boulia, where it’s put in many appearances over the years, however, is that the light is there to protect people and guide them home. That’s why it can and does follow people for hours – it’s trying to help apparently!

But regardless of any wildly optimistic theories, there is one thing that pretty much everyone can agree on: 

You don’t find the Min Min light – it finds you."

Still, it’s best to go to a place that’s renowned for sightings to narrow the search down a little.

Final destination

For decades, the region between the western Queensland towns of Dajarra, Boulia and Winton has been regarded as the hotspot for encounters. What’s more, Boulia is the only place in Australia with an entire tourist attraction dedicated to the phenomena.

It’s just a bit of an effort to get there if you don’t happen to live down the road.

For a charming little town just north of the Tropic of Capricorn, Boulia luxuriates in a shire over 60,000 square kilometres that also borders the Northern Territory. Fittingly, Boulia is regarded as both the Gateway to the Outback and the Capital of Channel Country (there’s rivers and flood plains galore). Thanks to the vast swathes of Mitchell and Flinders open grass plains, it’s also considered Cattle Country (hint: there’s truckloads of cows).

Grassy knoll and moo cow

On the four-hour drive from the nearest city of Mount Isa, when you’re not pulling your rental car over onto the loose gravel shoulder to avoid colliding with oncoming cars/truck/caravans/road kill, while you tentatively prize your white knuckles off the steering wheel to give approaching drivers a friendly salute; and keep your eyes peeled for wayward cattle, giant chickens and one of only three toilet stops along the way; you may even enjoy the scenery.

Planet Boulia

By the time we arrived in Boulia, my friend and I were so happy to be there, we didn’t give two hoots there was no mobile reception (only one service provider worked in town). With its enormous grid-like layout and streets so wide you could fit a bus sideways down them, Boulia was like an old-school oasis with friendly welcoming locals, zero traffic lights, a delightful mini wildlife sanctuary and the one-and-only pub in town actually sold gluten-free AND vegan food. (Mount Isa: take note.)

Boulia before the rush

It was just accommodation that was thin on the ground. Months prior to the trip, I was informed the only time the motel in town not attached to the pub had a twin room available was just a couple of days before Boulia’s annual camel races – a riotously popular event that bumps up the population by several thousand over several days (including humans).

What started out as a seemingly peaceful community very quickly became a bustling brouhaha as local staff rushed to look after all the tourists pouring into town. Fortunately, we were able to beat most of them by making a beeline for Boulia’s most infamous drawcard first: the Min Min Encounter and Visitor Information Centre.   

A surprise encounter

Have you seen the Min Min light?"

If the hardworking staff at the Encounter’s reception desk had a solid gold nugget for every time someone asked them this (myself included), they’d be living in Bermuda with Bill Murray as their butler.

Before you look up their contact details and ask them yourself, yes, indeed they’ve seen the light. In fact, many locals have. Even more spooky encounters are detailed in the museum’s visitor’s book and intriguing eyewitness interviews are broadcast in the main foyer of the adjoining gift shop. 

“Please follow the walkway and you’ll be guided into different rooms by the audio commentary and lighting cues,” the staff explained to my friend and I as were given headphones and receivers before being gestured into the shadowy depths of the Min Min Encounter. “And remember no photographs or videoing please.”

Forty-five minutes later, after what felt like a ride on an animatronic ghost train I’ve never had the balls to go on, I was so giddy, I didn’t know whether it was from all the electronics or the exhilarating experience itself.

Just like the one-and-only book I’ve ever found on the subject: The Mystery of the Min Min Light by Maureen G. Kozicka (now unfortunately out of print), alongside the stories shared around town, the Min Min Encounter validated the best chance anyone had of ever seeing the light was in the dead of night (or super early in the morning).

Of course.

To test the theory, after a delicious pub dinner, my friend and I hit the road north out of Boulia just after 7:30pm. After about ten minutes of driving, I pulled off onto an expanse of dirt by the side of the road. It was already so freaking dark, I could barely see my hand in front of my face but what I could see was the magical sparkling Milky Way above. By some stroke of luck, our trip had coincided with a new moon, providing perfect viewing conditions for any impish illuminations to emerge.

I certainly wasn’t the first to appreciate the cosmic view. When the Apollo 16 rocket took off in 1972, Boulia was the only place on Earth the spacecraft could be seen from on its way to the moon! (Giant chickens not included.)

Close, but no moonwalk

Unfortunately, my camera refused to capture even a single twinkle from the celestial carpet of stars so, as my friend became transfixed by something on the horizon, I decided to open my arms out wide and looked up to the heavens. Before I knew it, I felt an vast sense of expansion and inner peace envelope me.

As I stood in a state of bliss, inspired by what I imagined the intriguing-sounding CE-5 UFO contact groups might be all about, with the deepest of reverence and respect, I silently asked if the Min Min light would like to put in an appearance, for which I would be most grateful.

I continued to drink in the sparkling view when, not long after, just over to my left something caught my eye.

Something emitting a ghostly green light.

Bobbing along like a lantern.

At eye height.

About 100 metres away.

Like something straight out of Ghostbusters.

And it was moving.

Right towards me.

I blinked and looked again.

The phosphorescent light was transparent and spectral, but most definitely visible.

And on the move.

Towards me.

My initial panicked thought was that my friend and I were trespassing on a cattle property and the none-too-pleased owner/kangaroo hunter, was coming to tell us off with an impressive array of firearms.

I blinked again.

Was I hallucinating?

Was the light being held by a human with nefarious intent?

Was I seeing a disco-themed emu on its way to Party Grass?

Or was Elvis coming back to promote his latest album?

I watched wide-eyed as the glowing green orb gently bobbed up and down as it danced across the dark land.

Straight towards me.

“Um hey!!” I sang out to my friend as I threw myself in the driver’s seat of the car. “I might want to take off in a second!!” I finally understood why folks who’d claimed to have seen the light didn’t stick around tinkering with their apertures so they could record a cinematic masterpiece.

My friend remained hypnotised by the horizon.

I took a deep breath and dared to look through the windscreen. Sure enough, the green ghostly lantern was slowly but surely advancing towards me.

“Right!! We’ve got to go. Now!!!!” I shouted to my friend, unable to bear the suspense any longer. So much for standing my ground and savouring a once-in-a-lifetime encounter - and potential cup of tea - with a curious and benevolent spectre.

The moment my stunned travelling companion jumped into the car, I floored it like a blatant bat out of hell. It wasn’t until we arrived back to the safety of the hotel that my friend was able to spill the beans.

“I saw something like a single car headlight. It was white and moved from left to right, low on the horizon. I thought it must be a plane coming in for landing, or a helicopter, but there was no sound of either. It was just above the ground, then it moved slowly to the right, then it seemed to suddenly turn and come straight towards me. That’s when you wanted to leave. As soon as the light made a beeline for me, I wanted out of there too.”

“Wow. Did you film any of it?” I asked.

“No point. I couldn’t even capture the Milky Way on my phone.”

I paused, taking it all in.

“Do you think we both just saw the Min Min light?!”

My friend nodded slowly. “We sure saw something alright.”

Plenty of room at the Hotel With No Water (or much of anything else)

If shady characters, tainted alcohol, drugs, violence and murder are your thing, you really need to get out more. But you definitely would have loved the Min Min Hotel in its heyday.

Located about 100 kilometres west of Boulia on the mostly one-lane road to Winton, the Hotel was built in the early 1880s and became not only a popular watering hole for passing coaches, but also a great place to die if you were a shearer or station hand from either: drinking yourself to death, being poisoned by the booze, being killed in a drunken fight, or murdered for your money. As was the custom in the day, many ended up buried behind the hotel.

All this wanton depravity didn’t last too long though as a fire broke out in the 1920s and completely destroyed the hotel – and not just because there weren’t any gluten-free options available. Water from the closest bore at Lucknow, a few miles east, wasn’t able to save the pub and all that’s left today is the original stumps, a water tank, an old mill, a couple of marked graves and a whole lot of broken glass.

Pub with no beer

Oh … and a mysterious light.

Sometime after the hotel burnt down, legend has it that a stockman rode past the ruins round 10pm when a glowing ball of light suddenly emerged from the graveyard. If that wasn’t enough to get the man’s attention, after he and his horse took off in a cloud of dust, he quickly glanced behind him to see the light (that had grown bigger) was clearly following him as it darted around. 

Was it a ghost of one of the men interred behind the hotel? Or an apparition of Martha Lily: a woman who once lived at the site and used to walk around the property with her hurricane lamp every night? Locals claimed her spirit was seen alongside a peculiar light after she died and was buried nearby.

Either way, while being chased by the mysterious light, the petrified stockman and his horse didn’t stop until they reached the nearest police station (not that the cops would have been able to do much about the light if they’d believed him).

To this day, many sightings of the Min Min are still reported along this road leading to and from the Min Min hotel ruins, situated between Boulia and Winton.

Exit stage left

The next day, I rushed back to the Min Min Encounter, bursting with news of my experience the night before. They were understandably somewhat flabbergasted that a tourist could just rock up and summon the light at will. But they kindly confirmed the glowing orb I saw certainly fit the description of the Min Min light. (My friend’s sparkly horizon light; not as much.)

Just a hop, rock and a rare acacia

Then, after donating to the wildlife sanctuary, checking out the Heritage Complex, paying my respects to the Corroboree Tree (one of the very rare remaining Waddi trees in the entire country), I was once again stopped in my tracks.

Mesmerising mural by Brightsiders artist collective

On the wall of the Boulia Sports and Aquatic Centre was a painting depicting a couple of stockmen and their horses fleeing a building.

A building surrounded by Min Min lights.

One of which looked exactly like the ghostly green light from the night before.

Who you gonna call?

As darkness fell, there was no choice in the matter. I dragged my friend back out to look for the light north of Boulia again – but this time with much more trepidation on my part. So much so, that after apologising for my behaviour the previous evening, I put in a half-hearted request for the light to reappear, but then refused to leave the safety of the car.

On the road south of Boulia, however, things felt a whole lot better after we broke the rules a little by stopping on the outskirts of a campground where potential help, witnesses and alcohol weren’t too far away.

There, if it was even possible, the sparkly sky appeared even more magnificent and, as we both stood outside in a state of rapture, I had a kind of epiphany.

What if the mission of the Min Min light was more about enticing people to explore Australia’s vibrant outback than meeting the light itself?

Take a walk on the wildside of Cawnpore Lookout

The Min Min called to the curious to step outside of their comfort zones and fall back into wonder. Yes, it had generously granted me a fascinating encounter story I’ll be sharing for years, but what if the real gift was the all-pervading expansiveness of adventure, endless shimmering skies and surrendering to a profound sense of peace that all was right in the world?

It was also nice not to go to bed without quaking in fear, too.

Before drifting off to sleep, I recalled the story a neighbouring hotel guest had shared with me about his previous visit to town, when his friend had seen a huge ball of light zip down Boulia’s main street right before dawn.

Topknot of the morning to you

I was glad I wasn’t a morning person.

As my friend and I hit the mostly one-lane road back to Mount Isa, we only had to pull over approximately eighty times during the four hour drive back to let what seemed like the entire population of Australia hurriedly pass us on their way to the camel races; whilst the sun’s incessant rays baked us both into cranky, sweaty blancmanges; as wedge-tailed eagles circled above.

“Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.” – Neale Donald Walsch