Last weekBolt posted about settlement of a defamation action against the Victorian Upper House leader, David Davis, by former ALP state secretary Stephen Newnham. Davis had been forced to apologise.
Bolt's contention is that it's "bullying" for a politician (or any public figure I guess) to resort to the courts.
In other words, the use of smear (at which Bolt is an expert, judging by the frequency that he uses this tactic on his blog) is OK if it's directed at a politician.
In 2002 Victorian Magistrate Jelena Popovic was awarded $246,000 plus costs in action against Bolt and News group over an article in the Melbourne Herald Sun.
I had the temerity to remind Bolt of this, but of course it doesn't paint him (or his newspaper) in a favourable light, so it wasn't published.
Put simply, he complains about free speech being restricted after being convicted of defamation, but then won't post a comment on his blog. I wonder how he defines "free speech".
And he's a coward, because he hides behind the power of a media conglomerate and feels threatened by a humble blogger. Obviously, he also has a strange definition of bullying.
As part of some recent research, I was trying to gather as much information as possible about my RTA (Saigon-Sydney). There is a website - Skippy Squadron - which is a good source of detail.
I sent them an email giving the exact date, and the reply was very interesting. My memories of the flight are generally positive. This may have had something to do with the fact that I was going home. I'm glad, however, that I wasn't aware of what was going on up at the pointy end. The trip would have not have been so enjoyable had I known.
I certainly remember a long take off run at Tan Son Nhut, and a very rough landing in Sydney, but there was a lot happening that I had no inkling about. Here is the account in its entirety -
Your flight was under the Command of a Captain Norm Field and from the only story from a pilot, he wrote:
Maybe some of the Blue Mountains Vets will remember this departure from Saigon as it was just before Christmas 1970 on December 10th1970 ,707-338c VH-EAA City of Toowoomba.
According to "Murphy's Law" once a few things start going wrong get ready for a Bugger of a trip. The technical crew usually had a Vietnam Charter latched on to their normal pattern so we arrived in Singapore at the end of a London trip and departed 24 hours later with 165 very quiet troops on board. Only a short 1hour 50 minute flight from the old Singapore airport (PayaLebarAirport, virtually in the city) to Saigon with most of the blokes on board wishing we could divert to Sydney. We also tankered fuel to save time and cost of the uplift, on the turn around in Saigon, up to almost max landing weight. No problems at this stage with a great view of the city as we were vectored out to the coast for out initial approach and then turned inbound to see a low level C130 probably on a spraying run. We had developed a coward's approach in the landing profile - maintain 5000 feet - for as long as possible which put you way above the glide slope but not a big problem in the 707 as you could achieve a 1000foot per mile rate of descent with full flap and the gear down provided you remembered to be back in the slot by 3 miles from the runway. This saved itinerate bullet holes in the aircraft.
The airport was a shambles with military equipment, broken helicopters and Air America aircraft scattered aimlessly and people wandering in and out of the flight lines. However our blokes de-planed straight into waiting busses and their equipment followed in the trucks. It was super efficient.
Then "Murphy" took over. Our flight plan arrived and with the high ground temp and big payload (a bum on every seat) we could not do the direct flight, so plan via Darwin. Qantas had a rule in those days that if you were a diversion aircraft you had to build your own flight plan (remember those old hand held slide plastic computers?)
This was my first introduction to the Saigon control tower which I seem to remember was built of galvanised iron and most of the light and airflow inside came from the shrapnel holes on the outside.
Because of our delay we had now lost our slot departure time and the chief controller advised that due to a fire fight problem to the north-east and the F4 phantoms having priority we could not take off into wind and would either have an indefinite delay or take off downwind, actual tailwind component at that stage was 15kts. Max component for a 707 was 10kts. Bugger!! Now we were really weight restricted. At this stage we had all the blokes on board drinking fosters and wanting to get the hell out of there.
With a bit of persuasion the controller changed the tailwind component to 10kts gusting 12 kts occasionally, which we accepted, but don't tell Boeing.
Normally the airport defence helicopters checked the "big white rats" departure track before we left and moved to the north but on this occasion with our delay and the temperature, heavyweight take off, increasing tail wind as we climbed signals got a bit confused and we passed underneath them. Helicopters are not that attractive from below.
Five hours later we were in Darwin which was just as well as we were almost out of beer and all the toilets were full. It was great to see 165 now fully grown men walk down the steps and kiss the Australian soil. "Murphy" was still working unfortunately as we were now running into the Sydney 2300 curfew and the company estimated we would probably have to divert to Melbourne. With a max mach number cruise permission from Canberra high up and a no reverse thrust landing, I think we touched down at 2301.
What I remember about the troops was that they held their officers in high esteem, and nothing was going to stop them marching through the capital cities when their turn came.
Probably the wierdest aspect of all of this for me is the name of the aircraft - "City of Toowoomba". Toowoomba is where I was born, where I went to boarding school in the sixties, and where I've lived for the last 15 years. If I listen carefully, I can hear the Twilight Zone theme.
On Monday and Tuesday I stayed in a big city hotel in Brisbane. This was necessary because I was being offsider to my wife who was attending a couple of conferences.
I'm more often on the road lodging in bush motels than their metropolitan counterparts, so the contrasts are interesting.
One of the most obvious differences is that the city hotels (in Brisbane at least) are almost completely staffed by Asians, with the exception of the desk staff. In other words, the cleaners, kitchen hands and waiters and waitresses are Asian.
Generally, they are courteous, efficient and obliging. There was one small exception to this, when I asked for a pot of Fourex and got a pint. Pints are unheard of in the bush. This bloke must have spent some time in the UK. I drank it anyway. He called me "sir", and when I responded by saying my knighthood hadn't yet arrived, he looked confused.
I began to consider the reason for this lack of locals. Is it because Australians won't take these jobs? Maybe the Asian staff are simply better in terms of their work ethic? Perhaps it's simply management policy?
I did some research. The hotel is owned by a Philipino consortium. The staff are on contract to other Philipino companies who recruit back home. There are also family connections. The reason that no locals are employed is simply that all this activity takes place overseas. The jobs are not advertised in Australia. It's simply a closed shop. Whilst the staff were forthcoming about all of this information, not one of them was prepared to disclose wage rates.
This is obviously unsatisfactory. Not only are these people being exploited, opportunities for locals are denied. I'm surprised that the management can get away with it.
Maybe we should take a leaf out of the Vietnamese experience. The big city hotels I've stayed at in Vietnam are staffed by locals. This may have something to do with the fact that no foreign company can own outright any enterprise in Vietnam. By law, there must be majority local ownership.
We're told in the media (especially the Australian) that Unions are evil because they encourage closed shop situations. Yet it's apparently OK for our resources (especially our employment opportunities) to be sold off overseas.
It's OK - of course, because free enterprise is sacred. It's free to those who own and control it. Everyone else can get stuffed.
Today we’re in Charters Towers or as my bride has always called it, “Charlie’s Trousers”. That was what her colleagues called it in 1972, when she started her teaching career here.
It’s been called other things. One title is “The World”. In its heyday, it was just that. Everything in the world was here. Back in the 1890s, it had its own brewery, 92 pubs, countless brothels, 29 crushing mills, its own stock exchange and late night shopping – on Saturday night - (100 years before anywhere else in the country).
The boom times lasted whilst the gold did, from about 1872 until 1911.
It’s a thriving centre now, but nothing like it was back then. The mining going on now is from the pockets of parents who send their kids to the many private boarding schools in town.
The remnants of this prosperity exist in the many very solid buildings in town, and in the extravagant way in which they’re fitted out.
There’s the Bank of Commerce.
And many old pub buildings put to a different use.
There’s Wherry House (now housing a real estate business).
And some interesting old shop displays.
The detail on some of these old shops is amazing.
And interiors such as these are pretty rare in the 21st century.
This place reeks of history, and is well worth a visit.
It was, in its heyday, the second largest city in the state after Brisbane.
Nostalgia is a pretty harmless trip, but it can involve withdrawal symptoms.
I’m suffering them now.
Longreach is significant for me for two reasons. One is that I had a job based in Mt Isa in the mid nineties that involved spending a lot of time in Longreach. I got to see the inside of every pub in the main street. This is not because I was a big drinker.
Back then there was a school support centre based in the town and run by a very astute district manager who well understood the importance of keeping the local community on side.
As a consequence, when he wanted to have a beer with the regional management team, of which I was a member, he always insisted that we limit ourselves to one round each per pub to share the patronage around. This meant that a decent session meant moving from one pub to another until it was over. Given that the five plus pubs in the main street are within easy walking distance of each other, we simply oozed from pub to pub.
It must have worked, because he went on to become a Director General, and is fondly remembered to this day in town. The pubs haven’t changed much in fifteen years. You can still get a reasonable lunch for less than $10. My chicken and salad cost me $7.50. Nothing special, but good value. There are always chips.
The other piece of nostalgia lying in wait in Longreach is the Boeing 707 on display.
I did some research last week using awebsitecreated by Qantas crew who worked on the Sydney-Saigon-Sydney run during the Vietnam War. I discovered the full history of the flight I came home on (10th December 1970). If I had known back then what was happening on the flight deck, I would have been a very nervous digger indeed – but I’ll reserve that story for another post.
The aircraft on display looks the same but is actually quite different from the one I came home on. It’s shorter, older (the very first 707 exported) and with a completely different fitout from the one I flew on.
It had been configured as a VIP aircraft after Qantas and various other operators had finished with it, and was leased to a range of pop stars (including Madonna and Michael Jackson) before it was bought by a Saudi sheik who used it for five years before he upgraded to a 747.
When it was bought by the museum it was fitted out very lavishly (chandeliers – would you believe). It’s still pretty lavish, with walnut and leather, bedroom and bidet, but no chandeliers. Unfortunately, no photos are allowed inside. You’ll just have to take my word for it.
I’m suffering withdrawal symptoms, because instead of the rows (3 + 3) of passenger seats that I remembered on RTA, I was confronted with Saudi style decadence. It’s not the same at all. You can still smell whatever it was they smoked in those loofah things. It’s permeated the woodwork.
You can take photos inside the 747 on display, which was flown in to Longreach by a pilot who had his name drawn from a hat. Apparently more that 150 serving Qantas aircrew volunteered to deliver it. This guy crashed it many times on the simulator (Longreach strip is strictly speaking too short for 747s), but he did a good job on the day.
It’s an old plane, and has been well fettled -
Back then you could smoke, but not in the Galley -
And they had to be reminded to stow all the wiggly jiggly bits -
It’s big, and there’s plenty of shade under the wing -
The coffee dispensers are still there. They smell faintly of a bad airline brew.
There is also a characteristic Boeing smell – different from the Airbus. You could blindfold me, and I’d get it right every time.
