Brisbane Passenger Terminal

It is just on 22 years since I was asked to comment on the feasibility of putting a new cruise terminal down at Hamilton where the old liners used to go. Naturally I told them it was a bad idea and as ships were getting larger. Soon, because of river restrictions, passenger ships would not be able to get down that far. Evidently it wasn’t the answer the State Government wanted to hear as they ignored it. By that time I had probably made matters worse by telling them that the place to build it was not in Brisbane at all, but further south on the Gold Coast. I even got some professionals to design the means by which it could be done.

Anyway they finally went ahead at Hamilton, built a mediocre terminal with about as much imagination as a sleeping house brick and some small passenger ships have been there.
However, today the new Queen Victoria is in Brisbane, well not quite ‘in’ but about a safari away at the mouth of the river where passenger ships berthed 30 years ago, seems she is too big to get to the bright new terminal, what a surprise. She is at the same container terminal, which got the port such a bad name during the times of the (old) Oriana, Canberra etc. Cruise lines hated berthing there and still do.

I have no idea what vastly intelligent person or persons decided that all professional advice was wrong and that their little pen pusher views correct. In most private companies you would probably get fired for being so off the mark, this mob probably got promoted.

Oh well it is still summer so passengers waiting for their coaches to bring them into the city can experience the joy of getting bitten by the sand widges that love it out there next to the mangroves.
Ah yes, Brisbane, gateway to The Great Barrier Reef, Capital of Queensland the Sunshine State, home to the biggest fools on the planet.
Roll on noon so that I can have a drink (and I don’t mean water).

Passing of another friend

Haven’t updated for a while, things have been hectic.
You can tell the passing of the years when old friends and associates start to curl up their toes on a regular basis. Another of my friends has now passed away, another mariner gone to that big harbor pub in the sky.
His name was Tony Topalinski and believe it or not, he was English. When I knew Tony back in the late 70s to early 90s he was master of a clapped out old tramp running whatever needed to be moved between Honk Kong, Mainland China, Malaysia, Japan, Indonesia etc. As an owner/skipper he was never going to get rich but that was always unimportant. His ship which had the nickname of ‘Superbitch’ was held together by string, glue and a lot of prayers to the sea gods. Of his three other officers, one was Greek, one was South African and one was Scottish. The crew was mainly Malays with a mixture of Nippon and China thrown in, how they survived without killing each other will always be a wonder.

I can remember some great times ashore with Tone and in particular one marvelous pub brawl in Singapore. Fists and bar stools flying around, teeth knocked out or embedded in knuckles, stuff going everywhere. We ended up beating a hasty retreat over the roof after the police turned up in droves batons swinging. Most idiots tried to escape via side and back doors but years of experience had taught us the folly of this, police love to bushwack you at these, yet roofs, for some reason always remain clear. These brawls are now mainly a thing of the past, everything is more tightly controlled and so very ‘boring’.

Well, another chapter of the big book has closed, Tone would have only been about 66 but what a great life he led, his tally in women alone must be some sort of world record and whisky companies are richer today because of his ongoing consumption.

So old son I will make a toast to you this evening with a bottle of ‘The Very Good Stuff’ just as we used to do at the passing of friends, long ago, in a vastly different and more colourful world.

OUT OF STEP

Perhaps I am out of step about things, but I find the average citizen (or whatever you want to call them) incredibly stupid.
Take the example of the idea of everybody having an ID card similar to the American Social Security card. Quite rightly the people vetoed the idea as they should. However they then allow the Government to introduce a tax file number that follows you wherever you go, You need it to get a loan, open a bank account, start a business, in fact you can’t do anything without it. Yes, Mr and Mrs Moron just sat back and let themselves be put further under the microscope.
Still, they deserve what they get. Every day they are demanding better roads, more welfare, more hospitals, schools and trees in the street, yet they think it can all be accomplished without the need to up taxes – Struth don’t they even realise that the countries that are actually enjoying a true, rather than, apparent, wealth growth as the ones with bad roads and not a tree planter to be seen.

The division between wealthy and poor grows ever wider, such a dangerous situation because once it gets to a certain point you have big trouble, pitchforks and flaming torches storming the castle are nothing compared to what the poor could do these days. Most of the blame must rest with the financial and legal institutions; they are the ones bleeding the working population dry, banks upping fees and charges while announcing record profits. The legal system that only really serves a person according to their wealth. Every sector of our lives is under the control of some financial/legal power, forget governments as such, they are only the fall guy for those hiding in the wings..
All this may seem rather dramatic but unless something happens in the very near future I see very dark and troubled waters ahead.

The quality of life is rapidly being eroded by the need to service these insidious , faceless powers; buy, buy, buy and then pay back over time with crippling interest that sucks any prolonged joy out of life and turns it into nothing more than ‘existence’. The amazing part is that people don’t even realise that they have been manipulated into being simply slaves to the system.

I’m rather glad my years are drawing to close, I would hate to be around when the crunch comes and just trying to live in our present society is far too much for this ancient mariner.

News from the front

Last night I heard from a very old friend who is still driving ships in the Malacca, South China Sea region. He told me about two new incidents relating to modern pirates, yet when I check official reports, again, nothing about then is shown. By my estimation less than 10% of incidents get reported, I guess it has always been so. The Malacca region is getting worse again, this is to be expected as certain governments in the area are, in return for some brown bag payments, very prone to turn a blind eye to what is going on. Even in my time the corruption was compounded by regional governments, some things never change; they just alter their surface decoration.
Today is also the anniversary of the sinking of ‘The Far Roamer’, what a night that was and my first true introduction to the working of the Ducks. Good heavens, that was 33 years ago, how the time does get away from you when you’re not paying attention.
Actually that was the brink of what was to become the main core of my life until things fell apart in 1997. Anna Minet (Red) was about to enter my life and that certainly put a new face on things. The Ducks had been ‘blooded’ and we now thought we were up to the challenge, how naïve we were.

Serving a Purpose

I believe, but am often wrong about most things, that one of the main goals in life is to be able to say that, even for a definitive time, you served a purpose; well I guess we did that. However, when the time comes when you no longer serve a purpose and after a lifetime of being with people who can only be described as ‘characters’ all sorts of problems arise – how the hell do you go from a huge life to living in the suburbs next to people who think a big adventure is going on a two week holiday. Being a Master Mariner and having command of ships is a stupendous life but it doesn’t exact you train you for living in a bland, rather mindless and sheep like society once that time is over.

It would have been easier if my old crew (and friends) was still around but alas, due to the nature of our work, a heavy toll was taken and there are only 2, out of 14, of us left. You see, we were not always exactly, to the strict letter of the law, the good guys. The organization known as ‘The Sea Eagles’ but better known as ‘The Mucky Ducks’ was founded for the purpose of protecting the maritime industry. This included battling marine piracy, insurance fraud, plus drug and arms smuggling, we were kept well hidden from public and official eyes, clients came to us via many methods, we asked no questions and took all work that was to the betterment of life for those that work at sea – in other words we were really not much more than mercenaries.

I guess history will decide if we wore white or black hats, perhaps they were simply grey. In any case the time is now past and others must take up the challenge. I will continue with my writing as a second book about the Ducks has been requested by my publisher, the trouble is I’m not sure if the incentive to write another is there, the first was a labour of love, a second would not have the same purpose.

Oh well, that’s the way of things, one day at a time.

Harry Drake