- When Arnold Dix, 61, from Monbulk, Vic, learned of the 41 miners trapped underground, he knew he could help.
- A trained geologist, Arnold is also the president of the International Tunnelling and Underground Space Association.
- After 17 agonising days, rescue efforts paid off when the miners walked out safely.
Here Arnold tells his story in his own words.
Inhaling sharply, I cringed as I pressed my phone to my ear.
I’d just been told about a huge accident in India.
It was November 2023 and 41 young men were trapped inside the Silkyara Bend-Barkot tunnel.
The tunnel was being built to make it easier for pilgrims to travel through the Himalayan Mountains to reach sacred Hindu sites at extreme altitudes.
‘It looks really precarious. You need to do the rescue slowly and softly.’
But a landslide had caused a collapse, and the workers were trapped inside.
As president of the International Tunnelling and Underground Space Association (ITA), I was at a conference in Germany when I was notified about the disaster.
Staring at photos of the horrific scenes that had been sent to me, I knew it was a race against time to free the miners.
‘It looks really precarious. You need to do the rescue slowly and softly,’ I warned Rahul Gupta, the chief engineer.
When Rahul called back with the secretary to the Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi a few days later asking for help, I agreed and flew to India.
I rang my wife Divina, then 40, back home in Monbulk, Vic, to tell her.

‘Do what you have to do,’ she said, supportive.
During my career, focusing on safe design and procedures for underground projects, I’d seen a few rescue missions like this.
But sadly they almost always end in tragedy.
As I thought about the trapped workers, my mind went to their friends and family.
‘I’d want someone to help my kids.’
They are someone’s children, I thought.
As a proud dad from a previous relationship to Edward, then 27, Hannah, 30, and Sam, 32, who’d all worked in mining, it only made me more determined.
I’d want someone to help my kids, I thought.
Growing up with my parents, Norma and Arnold, who owned a hotel in Jindabyne, NSW, I loved chatting to guests.
These included miners who’d worked on the Snowy Mountains Hydro-Electric Scheme.
‘Listen to the mountain,’ one told me. ‘She will tell you a lot if you’re willing.’

Miners explained that, with respect and an open mind, you could find out a lot about the stability and structure of the mountain.
And they were only too happy to take me into the old tunnels. It was dangerous, but I loved it.
After uni I went on to become a barrister, specialising in engineering and science.
I also trained as a geologist. In 2000, I began volunteering and working with the ITA, investigating underground and tunnel disasters around the globe.
‘They’re lucky they made it this far. One wrong move and we’d all be goners too.’
Following in my footsteps, Edward, Hannah and Sam all helped me in Qatar when I worked on safety for the Doha Metro.
In the months leading up to the collapse in India, I’d been touring the most extreme underground environments, including the world’s deepest gold mine in South Africa, 4000 metres below the earth’s surface.
Before I arrived in India, the rescue team used a tiny 12cm wide x 100m long tube to provide the miners with air, water and peanuts.
They could only communicate by shouting through the tube.
Arriving at the site on day five, I noted there were signs of at least 21 other collapses in the tunnel.
They’re lucky they made it this far, I thought. One wrong move and we’d all be goners too.

Pushing my back up against the fragile rock, I dug my hands in the rubble and listened to the mountain.
I knew in my gut we would get these men out alive.
Back outside, I revealed my findings. ‘This is incredibly dangerous.
But 41 men will be out and safe, and no-one else will be hurt in the process,’ I promised, laying out my plan.
‘We can’t rush.’
Early on, rescuers had drilled into the mountain to try to free the men through a large pipe, but stopped when they heard cracking.
‘We can’t rush,’ I said now. ‘Slow and soft.’
After helping to design a small trolley, we sent miners into the tunnel to excavate rock by hand.
After filling the trolley, they’d slide out, dump the debris, and go back.
The aim was to tunnel the final 10 metres through to the miners.
After 17 agonising days we broke through. It was incredible.

Sitting with the workers’ families, we held our breath as the miners came out.
When the last was out safely, I breathed a sigh of relief.
My job was done. The men were exhausted but thrilled to be free and united with family.
At the airport three days later, I bumped into some of the miners, who shook my hand and thanked me.
Back home, Divina, the kids and my stepdaughter Trisha, 15, were proud of me, as always.
In November 2024, I returned to the site in India and was humbled when 2500 people came to celebrate the rescue.
I feel like a bit of an accidental hero – in the right place at the right time.
But it’s really my motto in life – find something you care about and pay it back.
