A 1200km trek into the Australian Outback, a 36.5m roadtrain, 100-plus tonnes of explosive, 50°C heat … In this first of two parts, Will Shires swaps Blighty for the Outback and asks, what could possibly go wrong?

Australian truck driver Brinley Lewis earns a six-figure salary but works for every penny. His hours are brutal, his truck is enormous, and he dodges kamikaze cattle while hauling cargo that, if something goes wrong, could scatter his fillings across the Outback. Before you consider heading down under to ease Australia’s driver shortage, read this first.

Our 1200km one-day journey (yes, you read that right) starts in Perth. We’re heading north to Newman, a remote mining town in the middle of nowhere. And to get there, we’ll be driving through a whole lot of nothing.

Before we jump into the passenger seat of Brinley’s Volvo FH16 780, a Volvo rep gives us a stark warning about the cargo. We’re hauling about 100 tonnes of ammonium nitrate to the iron ore mines. It’s an explosive – when mixed with diesel – and while accidents are rare, when they do happen, they happen spectacularly.

But we’re in safe hands. Brinley has 34 years of trucking experience, including 20 years piloting road trains and 14 years with his current employer, Cropline Haulage. In that time, he’s never had an accident, a record he wears with pride.

With a history stretching back over 80 years, Cropline Haulage has a reputation as one of Western Australia’s most trusted transport operators. Specialising in bulk haulage for the agricultural and mining industries, the company runs a fleet of about 200 trucks from its bases in Perth and Port Hedland, ensuring vital supplies reach some of the most remote parts of the state. From the vast Wheatbelt to the Pilbara’s rugged terrain, Cropline’s drivers cover huge distances, helping to keep Western Australia’s industries moving.

The fleet is dominated by American and European heavyweights, with a growing number of Volvo FH16s joining the ranks alongside long-serving Kenworths and Macks. Cropline’s commitment to safety and efficiency has made it a key player in the state’s freight sector, with a focus on innovation and investment in modern equipment.

So, with confidence, we climb into the FH16 780 Globetrotter XXL, our home for the next 17 hours.

The 8×4 tractor unit is a Volvo Trucks- owned test mule – the first 17L FH16 to enter active service in Australia. The Euro-6 truck joined Cropline’s fleet last October and has been working hard ever since. Previously, 700hp (522kW) was the highest output available from Volvo in Australia, but that’s just changed. A week after our visit, the very first Australian-built FH16 780 was handed over to a customer.

The combination is a C-train, comprising a semi-trailer with a turntable (converter dolly) attached to its rear, which connects to another dolly, followed by two additional trailers. The belly-dumper trailers are manufactured by local bodybuilder Bruce Rock Engineering. At 36.5m long, this is about as big as a truck can be to operate within Perth’s city limits legally.

As we pull out of Cropline’s yard, I’m staggered by just how long it is, and how well it tracks.

“If we were to add a fourth trailer on the way, it would follow just as well,” Brinley says as we head out of the industrial estate and into the heavy morning rush-hour traffic.

It’s been an early start, and we’ve yet to grab any breakfast, let alone our first caffeine fix of the day. I tentatively ask when we’re likely to make our first stop and am stunned by the response. “I’m required to take a 30-minute break every five hours,” he explains. “So, you’ll be able to grab a coffee then.”

Shocked by the rules governing drivers’ hours, I press him for more information. What I discover is that Western Australia has its own set of regulations, distinct from the rest of the country. Brinley is allowed to drive up to 17 hours a day, but only if he takes a 30-minute break after every five hours behind the wheel. He can follow this schedule for up to 12 consecutive days, after which he must take at least two full days off to rest. All driving activity is recorded manually in a logbook.

It sounds like a gruelling schedule, but the reality is that these regulations are designed to balance productivity with safety. And though Brinley can work for 17 hours in a single day, he’s also required to take at least 10 hours off before starting again, ensuring he’s properly rested in between shifts.

Like the rest of the Cropline fleet, the FH16 is equipped with an aftermarket drowsiness detector, which vibrates the driver’s seat if it detects a lapse in concentration. Brinley explains that if he ever feels fatigued, he simply pulls over at one of the expansive laybys that line the route every 50km or so. “Good companies like ours don’t push their drivers,” he says. “They’re more concerned about us taking our breaks than not taking them. If I pull over because I’m tired, they never question it. Sometimes, just walking around the truck is enough to revive me.”

Brinley is a big fan of European cabover trucks, preferring them to American conventionals, which he describes as “rough and uncomfortable” in comparison. Volvo, however, is his marque of choice, and this FH16 stands out as the best example he’s ever driven. “I just hope my employers buy some,” he adds, his admiration clear as he praises the truck’s spacious interior. “There’s so much room in here, and once I close the curtains, it’s like being in a hotel room. I sleep better in here than I do at home,” he admits.

As we leave the city behind, we begin to tackle some serious inclines. “This is where the new 17L really shines,” Brinley says, just as the I-Shift transmission suddenly drops a couple of gears pre-empting a particularly steep climb. The speed limit on this route is 100km/h (110km/h for cars), but we’ve dropped to 46km/h for this particular hill. “It will have to work a lot harder on Bindoon,” he adds when I comment on how nice it is to hear an FH16 actually working hard finally.

And he’s not wrong. Bindoon Hill is even steeper, and Brinley manually holds sixth gear as the truck’s fan kicks in, maintaining a steady 26km/h. “My friend drives an FH16 600, and he’d be down to 19km/h by now,” Brinley reveals. Incredibly, some operators even run small roadtrains with as little as 373kW (500hp). “I think it’d be quicker to walk,” he laughs.

What goes up must come down, and the FH16 handles the descent with poise. The engine brake isn’t quite strong enough to maintain a safe speed, so Brinley dabs the service brakes occasionally. It’s easy to see why these hills are equipped with safety run-off lanes.

As we approach one of the climbs, a pickup truck towing a caravan pulls out in front of us and shows no urgency in picking up speed. When you’re running at 113 tonnes, being baulked like this presents a significant challenge, even with 581kW (780hp) and 3800Nm (2802lb/ft) of torque at your disposal. “The standard of car driving is getting worse all the time,” Brinley grumbles. “Anyone can get a 4×4 and slap a trailer on it. It’s terrible along here in June and July when pensioners head north to chase the sun.”

Aside from the pickup truck, whose driver has since woken up and put his foot down, we see little traffic. It’s mainly just heavy trucks heading south – roughly a 50:50 mix of European and American models, with Volvos and Kenworths dominating the scene. There are a few artics on the road, but most traffic consists of three-trailer C-trains like ours. Brinley tells us that later in the day we’ll see quads, which can stretch up to 53.5m in length. He’s shocked when he learns that the UK has a 44-tonne weight limit, and even more surprised to discover how many tractors in the UK have over 373kW (500hp) for what he considers such a low GVW.

About 300km northeast of Perth, we arrive in Wubin, a small town with a population of just 90, in the heart of Western Australia’s wheatbelt. Here, we find a vast truck park, where Brinley explains he would normally add a fourth trailer. The location is well chosen, being far enough from Perth to avoid any steep climbs.

Under normal circumstances, Brinley and a colleague would travel here in convoy in C-trains, with a “dog-runner” carrying two full trailers following them. Once at Wubin, the dog-runner would drop these trailers, and add them to the two C-trains to create four- trailer quad combinations. This would bring the GVW up to 147 tonnes, increasing the total length to 53.5m. The dog-runner would return to Wubin two days later to collect the empty trailers on their return journeys, so the three trucks can legally head back to Perth.

When I express amazement at the sheer dimensions, Brinley reveals that in the mines, even longer combinations are common. “Sometimes, they run quins, five-trailer combinations, that gross out at 300 tonnes,” he tells us. “Now those are definitely big jiggers.”

Adding a fourth trailer isn’t as simple as hitching it to the back of the combination. “First, you have to drop your back trailer and pull forward,” Brinley explains. Then, the dog-runner’s trailer is attached as the third, and the entire combination is reversed so the back trailer can be reconnected. I’m stunned at the thought of reversing something with so many pivot points. “I love reversing,” Brinley grins. “Anyone can make it go forwards, but it takes a long time to master reversing. Two trailers are a piece of cake, and I can reverse three for a little bit, but four is impossible. There’s a bit of a contest amongst us – some of the boys can’t do it at all.”

The heavy combination test, which allows heavy rigid or heavy combination licence- holders to upgrade to longer vehicles, includes a reversing element. However, it only requires drivers to reverse a B-double for 80m – a far cry from the reality of handling a fully loaded roadtrain in the real world.

“Passing your test doesn’t make you a good driver,” says Brinley. “That rear trailer can move around a lot, and it’s really daunting when you first start.”

In fact, our third trailer is shifting slightly right now, a consequence of the rough road surface, but Brinley remains unfazed. “These trailers are really stable, but some older ones can get a proper wobble on. If that happens, the key is not to panic. You just ride it out and use the trailer brake to slow yourself down,” he explains.

Of course, accidents do happen, and Brinley has seen some horrendous crashes over the years. Most, he reckons, are caused by fatigue. He himself was once run off the road by a sleeping driver who veered directly into his path. Every so often, we spot skid marks leading off the tarmac and into the bush, silent reminders of mishaps. “They’ll normally make up an excuse rather than admit they were catching some zzzs,” he adds. To eliminate any doubt, all Cropline trucks are equipped with driver-facing cameras, ensuring fatigue- related incidents don’t go unchecked.

In the event of an accident or breakdown, the truck is equipped with a satellite phone. For most situations, though, the two-way radio is sufficient. All trucks, along with much of the non-commercial traffic, are tuned into Channel 40. “There’s a good community out here, and everyone lends a hand,” says Brinley.

A perfect example of this camaraderie is when a truck suffers a puncture, an unavoidable reality with up to 112 tyres on a roadtrain and summer temperatures reaching more than 50°C. All drivers are well-versed in changing their own wheels, with most carrying a rattle gun in their toolbox. “It just makes it so much easier if two people do it,” Brinley adds.

It’s mid-morning now, and the truck’s exterior temperature gauge reads 30°C. My stomach growls loudly enough for Brinley to notice. “Only a few more miles now,” he says with a grin. We’ve been on the road for nearly five hours, covering about 450km.