Pat Mackie and the Mount Isa Mines dispute

Union leaders Pat Mackie (in his favourite red baseball cap) and John McMahon (right) are interviewed by Albert Asbury of the ABC.

The dispute that rocked Mount Isa Mines for nine months in 1964-65 was the most tumultuous time in the city’s history. At the centre of it was workers’ leader Pat Mackie. Mackie has written two books about his life, the first about his life leading up to the dispute called Many Ships to Mount Isa, the second called The Story of a Dispute.

Enemies painted Mackie as the devil incarnate during the strike and his colourful background and petty criminal history on two continents was used against him by the media, the company and the government. Mackie was a committed unionist from his work in Canada and the US but this dispute pitted him and the workers against the unions as much as Mount Isa Mines owners’ the American Smelting and Refining Company (ASARCO). Management was driving down costs by cutting contract pay and increasing efficiency though that had its own price – 1300 miners watched by 750 “supervisors”.

Workers had to be members of the Australian Workers Union and the company compulsorily deducted union dues from pay. Though many workers felt they would be better off in a miners’ union, the rightwing AWU jealously protected its rights and refused to let other unions muscle in.

There were many staff grumbles including the poor quality of the shower rooms where the water often cut out, leaving miners to head home dirty potentially carrying poisonous lead. The problem festered for eight years before Mackie complained in May 1964. When he threatened to quit, workers asked him to fight it and other problems on site.

Workers wanted to hold a 24-hour stoppage against the advice of the union leader, who didn’t want to stir up trouble. Mackie also spoke against it, but for different reasons. He said a day-long strike would only lose them money and gain nothing. They needed to prepare properly for a strike and raise funds. The meeting agreed to give the company a week to fix the showers before taking further action.

The threat worked and the showers were fixed that week. Miners looked at other issues such as the chiselling away of contract rights which the AWU had ignored. Workers elected Mackie as local chairman and he used his union skills to organise delegates in all areas of the mine. In August 1964 the Queensland Industrial Commission turned down a wage increase as a “camouflaged bonus” which it was prevented from awarding. Peeved AWU management decided Mackie could not be chair as he wasn’t a six-year financial member of the union.

Workers sidestepped the union, electing a six-man committee including Mackie, to negotiate with the company. Mines manager James Foots said they were losing money and unable to offer wage increases. The workers countered that contract men would use their award right to revert to wages losing productivity for the company. In two weeks production dropped 40,000 tons as many workers left Mount Isa. The company reported the dispute to the Industrial Commission but they found the miners were not on strike, so the company applied again calling it a “go slow”.

The AWU sided with the company in wanting their workers to return to contract and called a meeting on October 11. Union rep Kevin Costello from Townsville sought approval of return to contracts which was rejected by jeering workers. Union boss Edgar Williams told Brisbane media the decision was due to “Mackie’s standover tactics”, beginning a personal campaign against Mackie. Liberal Minister for Labour JD Herbert told Queensland parliament Mackie was “doing the dictates of sinister international masters”.

The judge deferred the case indefinitely. The AWU told the industrial court workers agreed to return to contract but were prevented by “confusion in the hall” and they intended to take action against “Mount Isa chairman Mackie”. Mackie took a day off on union business to sort out a threat by the boilermakers to stop work. Unknown to him the AWU had changed its by-laws stripping him of union representation and his legal entitlement to take time off on union business. He was sacked for taking a day off without permission. News quickly spread through the mine, but Mackie knew the company wanted to goad the workers into a walkout.

The following Sunday Costello chaired an angry meeting. As he rose to speak he was drowned out by shouts of “we want Mackie”. Sitting at the back, miners shoved a reluctant Mackie up to the stage. Costello shouted “I declare the meeting closed!” and left the building. Those that remained passed a vote of no confidence in union leadership and vowed to remain on wages. Ten weeks into the dispute, Mackie organised his men, helped by support from local businesses who paid him a £24 wage. He filed for wrongful dismissal in the Mount Isa Magistrates Court.

At the next meeting on November 1 the AWU tried to brand the action as “lawless” only for the local rep to be shouted down again in a call for Mackie. Again the meeting was closed. Again the workers held an unofficial meeting with Mackie as chair. Their demands were threefold, the original £4 wage increase, recognition of locally elected reps, and a 25pc rise in contract prices. Without official union support, the company would not discuss these demands.

Instead they upped the ante shutting down the copper smelter on November 13. Foots claimed it was too dangerous to continue. They did nothing to counter the media impression the shutdown was because of a “strike” led by “dangerous insurgents”. Even though the court found on November 23 there was no evidence of a go slow, the company appealed again on a point of law. On December 3 the court overturned the original decision, and ordered the AWU and its members to stop “taking part in an unauthorised strike” with onerous penalties for non-compliance. All workers could take up the offer, unless they were sacked for “misconduct”. But the only worker sacked for misconduct was Mackie.

A day later Mackie’s case for wrongful dismissal was dismissed as the onus of proof was on him. The following Sunday 1100 workers packed the Star Theatre for a miners’ meeting. Again the union official was howled down and closed the meeting, again Mackie chaired the unofficial meeting. The meeting voted to disregard the court order and added a fourth demand for Pat Mackie’s reinstatement. Mackie said the dispute was no longer about pay and conditions but “a struggle for self-rule and industrial legality”. That week the AWU formally expelled him from the union for “misconduct”.

On December 11 Foots stopped all underground copper mining due to the “go slow” and cancelled coal orders. The Nicklin government introduced a state of emergency forcing workers to go back to work on contract or be fined or face jail with no recourse to court action. Nicklin laid the blame on “one irresponsible individual … misleading them into foolish action.”

Mackie and the miners found friends in the Barrier Industrial Council which helped mobilise the Broken Hill mine workforce against similar threats. With the Broken Hill group set to attend that Sunday’s meeting the AWU sent state president Gerry Goding. The meeting took the usual course of boos and calls for Mackie. It perplexed Goding who believed the media hype it was a one man show. The town would not be browbeaten by the company, the courts, or the union.

The following week when the new shift reported for work, supervisors asked them to accept contracts and when almost all said no, they were handed a “pinkie” (termination slip). That day (December 15) Foots sacked the entire 5000-strong workforce and announced all work at Mount Isa Mines would cease, costing Australia a million pounds a week in lost exports. Four thousand people attended a public meeting where the Labour Council attacked the company. There were pledges of financial support from town and outside. Mackie remained leader of the fight against the government, the company and the union, despite no longer being an employee nor a union member.

On Christmas Eve the Industrial Commission granted a surprise £3 prosperity payment though embittered workers agreed to hold out for £4. In early January the AWU allowed Mount Isa miner Barry Baker to address a compulsory meeting with union and management ordered by court. Baker focused attention for the first time on underground working conditions. The company refused to discussed money matters preferring instead to discuss the new draft contract. They also threatened to withdraw the annual bonus if financial results were bad.

Pat Mackie “wields” a chair at the January meeting.

On January 16 there was a special meeting of all union members to get a local democratic representative body in the field. Court Commissioner Harvey, who had denied their claims, turned up and was heckled as was union boss Edgar Williams. The men shouted for Mackie to move up from the back. Someone pressed a chair into his hands which he took to the platform amid cheers. The officials closed the meeting and Mackie called for a Labour Council meeting the following day. The press reported that a “howling mob” had shut down the meeting and published photos of him “wielding a chair” with the inference that it was for violent purposes (belied by men cheering as he did the “wielding”). In Brisbane Williams blamed Communist infiltration which the press swallowed.

Mount Isa dug in. Mackie and John McMahon, President of the Labour Council, were elected to travel interstate to raise funds. On TV’s Meet the Press Mackie was set up, being asked his real name, criminal convictions and communist history. When sneeringly asked did he get others to script his speeches, he replied “No I don’t, but it looks like you do.” A reviewer reckoned Mackie had more supporters at the end than he started with. They also addressed crowds in Broken Hill and Adelaide.

Queensland’s government enacted laws giving police the power to keep strike-breakers out of Mount Isa. When McMahon boarded a plane from Sydney to Mount Isa he was ordered off in Brisbane. Mackie hid in Sydney and the union organised a car to drive home 2300km non-stop via Bourke. With road blocks all around Mount Isa, Mackie took a miners’ track via Duchess and snuck home. With no sign of police Mackie entered his house before he was moved to a safe house. McMahon took another flight from Brisbane to Darwin (intending to get off at Isa) but was ordered off at Longreach.

By end January national media was becoming aware of the dispute as the public mood shifted in the miners’ favour. The company reopened the mine on February 1 reemploying all miners who were on the payroll a day before the shutdown. They threatened to shut down the entire operation if miners did not return. Workers refused to go back until the government ended its emergency regulations and began picketing on February 1 – the first time there was an actual picket in the dispute.

Faced with the prospect of a general strike, Nicklin rescinded the legislation the same day. At a Labor Council meeting in the Bull Ring of the Isa Hotel, Mackie came out of hiding to a hero’s welcome. The following day masses of police flew out, while McMahon flew in to cheering unionists who carried a banner with the Irish greeting “Céad míle fáilte”.

There was another compulsory conference on February 4 but Mackie and the miners’ delegation were not invited as “unaccredited”. Negotiations foundered over the reinstatement of Mackie. Mackie flew to Melbourne to do more TV. Again he survived on-air intimidation with TV critic Frank Thring writing “this muscle-bound free-speaking gorilla brought fresh air into the stagnant swamp of television.” He stayed two weeks in Melbourne gaining popularity while Foots again threatened to close the mine.

Prime Minister Menzies threatened to intervene despite harsh words for “this curious character Mackie, not even an Australian”. When Federal parliament looked at the possibility ASARCO started the dispute to deliberately lower the price of its share it wanted to buy back, Foots backed off. Mount Isa Mines reopened on February 17, 1965 offering work for all on the books on December 14. It helped that copper prices were now much higher.

When the mine reopened, picketing resumed and stayed for the next seven weeks. The AWU and the Catholic Church urged miners to return to work. When a 15-year-old boy named Bernard Kelly died in a shooting accident while showing off his father’s gun, the father reported it was loaded “because of the trouble in town”. Media blamed the death on the strike with some families saying it was Mackie’s fault.

Nicklin brought in new laws banning picketing within half a mile of the mine gates while calling Mackie a “nomadic thief, swindler, dope peddlar, gangster and gunman”. On March 18 police enforced the new law, moving the pickets away from the mine to the town side with 100 officers guarding the river crossings. Mackie, who lived on the mine side, was placed under house arrest during picketing hours.

Having failed to get support for a national dispute, Mackie knew his situation was holding up resolution. On March 28 he advised workers to return to the job on guarantee of no victimisation. He quietened shocked workers saying they were beaten by overwhelming force. Most returned to work on April 2 and the AWU voted by a small majority to return six days later. As academic Raymond O’Dea wrote, the Mount Isa dispute had not been settled, “it merely jolted to a sullen stop.”

The company made a comfortable profit in 1964-65 and the share price rebounded. Relations improved between management and workers with ASARCO accepting new arrangements for wage bargaining. There would not be another major Mount Isa Mines work stoppage for 25 years.

Now a household name, Mackie left Mount Isa and moved to Sydney where he won defamation cases against media who maligned his reputation. He had no regrets about the dispute which he said stirred the Australian Trade Union movement into supportive action – a revelation he said, a whole community could unite behind a cause. “It was a triumph of the human spirit,” he concluded.

When Bert Hinkler flew solo from England to Australia

Bert Hinkler

Bert Hinkler is a mostly forgotten early Australian aviator but there was a time when he was idolised as the country’s foremost flier. Born in Bundaberg, Queensland in 1892, his unfinished autobiography said “flight ever fascinated me” and like most early pioneers of flight he did not live to be an old man. Hinkler died aged 40 after crashing his plane into the mountains of Tuscany in Italy. Il Duce Benito Mussolini, fascinated with flying, buried Hinkler with full military honours and he was mourned across Australia and the world. Grantlea Kieza tell his story with gusto in Bert Hinkler: The Most Daring Man in the World.

Hinkler got into aviation as a young man in Bundaberg after hearing of the Wright Brothers’ early flights in America and Frenchman Bleriot’s first dash across the Channel. In 1910 Harry Houdini became the first man to fly a plane in Australia at Digger’s Rest near Melbourne. After Lindsay Campbell exhibited a glider at a Longreach show, Hinkler was inspired to create his own which he built from models in The Aero magazine. He build his Glider 1 in the backyard which the 19-year-old tested successfully at nearby Mon Repos beach.

When American aviator Arthur Burr “Wizard” Stone visited Bundaberg in 1913, Hinkler told him he knew the problem with his plane and after the American expressed disbelief, Hinkler told him about his gliders. Stone took his advice and it worked, leading to a job offer as a mechanic for the American on his tour of Australia. After this experience Hinkler travelled to England with an endorsement from Stone. He got a job with Sopwith Aviation in London where he helped build planes and nurtured his dream of becoming a pilot.

When war broke out in 1914 Hinkler joined the new Royal Naval Air Service as a mechanic. At Whitley Bay he flew as a passenger in a two-seat Gnome-powered Bristol hunting German Zeppelins. He was eventually moved to Air Wing and trained as a gunner. Assigned to France he sat behind the pilot in a tandem cockpit. He did battle with enemy planes and bombed German positions in the Saar. When the RAF was formed in 1918 he was made a Second Lieutenant (Technical) and trained as a pilot in Marske-by-the-Sea, Yorkshire.

After graduation he was assigned to the Italian front at the controls of a Sopwith Camel. The RAF supported the Italian assault on Vittorio Veneto in October 1918 and Hinkler led an attack on Austrian troops fleeing the front. He flew 50 operations in the final months of the war. He came back to Britain deciding he wanted to fly all the way home to Bundaberg. In 1919 Prime Minister Billy Hughes offered £10,000 to the first Australian or British crew that could fly London-Darwin and Hinkler was keen, becoming the first official entrant.

But when the rules were released he was unable to fly needing a navigator and a plane with 3000km range due to the scarcity of airfields in India. In the end there were six official entrants and brothers Ross and Keith Smith were first across the line in 27 days. A disappointed Hinkler stepped up the search for a plane to make the dangerous journey alone. That plane was an Avro Baby.

Avro was Alliot Verdun-Roe who made planes at Southampton. His Baby was a tiny plane with a 35hp engine and importantly it needed just 45m to take off. In 1920 Hinkler’s first attempt to fly to Australia ended in Turin over fears of getting stuck in a war in Syria. A year later he sailed back to Australia with the Baby as cargo.

Arriving in Sydney he unpacked the plane and beat his solo distance London-Turin with a flight to Bundaberg to great local acclaim. He went back to England where he raced planes in competition but kept alive his dream to fly to Australia. On February 7, 1928 he set off from Croydon in his Avro 581 Avian plane, as usual without fanfare. He loaded the narrow cockpit with Ovaltine chocolate, a few biscuits and a flask of hot coffee. He also had a bottle of port, 400 cigarettes and official letters to take home.

Aided by pages from a Times Atlas he set off over the Channel and down through France crossing the Alps, wondering where he would stop as it approached nightfall. In the dark he made it to Rome where he flashed a feeble SOS with his torch. With no-one to send up flares, he risked a dark landing and after a long wait in customs, he caught a tram into the city centre at 11pm, getting to bed in a hotel by 1am.

Four hours later he was went back to the airport where he saw in daylight the radio masts and wires he somehow missed while landing. Day 2 was a flight to Valletta in Malta, 900km away and Hinkler risked the sulphur fumes of Vesuvius and passed the snow-capped peak of Etna before arriving at the Malta RAF base at 3pm. He enjoyed dinner at the mess knowing that it would be the last of familiar pleasures.

The following morning he set off over the Mediterranean and made it to Benghazi, then on another 400km to Tobruk but with darkness falling he was forced to land 60km short. After a sandwich and coffee he took out the cockpit seat to use as a pillow, removed the inflatable boat and pumped it up. Upturned it was 2m long and a perfect bed. He set an alarm for an hour before dawn and fell asleep.

In the morning he was approached by two Arabs who had never seen a plane before. They helped Hinkler clear the rocks and camel thorn off an uneven runway. He flew quickly to Tobruk, refuelled and set off towards Ramla in Palestine, having no authority to land in Egypt. Again he fell short and needed another rough desert landing. In exchange for cigarettes, locals helped him drag the plane to harder ground for take off. Day 5 he followed the railway line 100km to Ramla RAF base where he did an engine check.

The RAF persuaded him to stay the night and he ended up carousing in Jaffa till 1.30am. The following day he flew over the Biblical towns of Jerusalem, Bethlehem and Jericho past the Dead Sea and eventually to Basra at the mouth of the Tigris and Euphrates. There he landed at the air base run by Imperial Airways and worked on his plane till after midnight.

On Day 7, February 13 he had a 1400km run to Jask on the Persian peninsula opposite the Emirates. Jask was a desolate outpost for the Indo-European telegraph line and transit point for Europe-India flights. Hinkler took a bicycle into town and rode back to the Avian before dawn where he was shocked to find a dripping leak in the main fuel tank. He reckoned his fuel loss would still get him to Karachi, 1000km away though it was a race against time as the fuel loss was worse than he calculated. He just made it, again landing at a RAF base, now the talk of the world as “Hustling Hinkler” having broken the record for the longest flight in a small plane.

The RAF men gave Hinkler a pith helmet to cope with the sun but it didn’t allow him to plug his ears the way his helmet did and on the next leg the ringing in his ears gave him a massive headache. Almost dizzy and stone deaf, he landed at Cawnpore (Kanpur), 1200km away and went straight to bed at 5pm. Refreshed at daybreak he set off again to Calcutta (Kolkata), wearing his helmet. A big crowd greeted him at the airport. Locals helped him work on the plane till midnight and he went into the city to sleep.

Day 11, February 17 Hinkler was bound for Rangoon (Yangon) in poor visibility, flying by compass. He arrived on Rangoon racecourse at 2.30pm where Shell reps put on a dinner for him while his flying suit was washed. Australian papers were predicting he would obliterate the 27 day record of the Smiths though the Australian government was less impressed with foolish fliers killing themselves and said they would not provide facilities or forecasts.

Uncaring, Hinkler left Rangoon 6.30am the following morning and set off for Victoria Point (Kawthaung) on the Malay peninsula. He was chased by a rain storm all day ending his hope of seeing a tiger from the air and got in at 2pm. That left a 1300km trip to Singapore the following day in which he got caught in a tropical storm before landing in the wrong spot. The drenched pilot was redirected to Singapore’s racecourse.

There Hinkler met fellow aviators Bill Lancaster and Chubbie Miller who were also flying from England to Australia and survived almost crashing into the Arabian Sea, being shot at by Arabs and having a snake aboard at Rangoon. They were awaiting repairs at Singapore – Bert left after them and would arrive before them. Lancaster gave Hinkler strip maps for the Darwin to Camooweal route that were easier to use than the atlas.

The following morning was a difficult takeoff on soggy ground and he just cleared the fence. Hinkler dodged the rain to Kalidjati on Java, annoying the official welcoming party waiting in the rain at Jakarta, 125km back. He also annoyed Dutch officials by failing to notify them of his arrival in advance. Again uncaring Hinkler set off on Day 15 to Bima 1400km away on Sumbawa island where he relaxed in the Dutch commissioner’s Roman bath. Sleeping on the veranda he was kept awake all night by mosquitoes.

Day 16 was the difficult final 1450km leg to Darwin, more than 10 hours of flying with half of that across the desolate Timor Sea and no ships in sight. Hinkler hoped there would be a few people to shake his hand on arrival but had no idea of the anticipation. Darwin expected him at 2pm but it wasn’t until almost four anxious hours later that Hinkler finally dropped out of the skies, circling the Ross Smith memorial twice before ending his 17,710km journey in under 16 days in front of a huge crowd. It was the longest solo flight made and he was now the most celebrated aviator in the world.

After three days basking in the Darwin glory which included a telegram from King George V, Hinkler took off again at 7am bound 1600km for Cloncurry. He was expected at Brunette Downs on the Tablelands mid afternoon but when there was no sign of him by 5.40pm the alarm was raised. At Cloncurry 20 cars were waiting with their lights on ready for a night landing but Hinkler never showed. The next morning he was still missing and authorities hoped he was forced into a bush landing.

The pilot of the Qantas plane from Cloncurry to Camooweal kept an eye out as did another Qantas pilot on his own search but there was nothing. At Camooweal they heard Hinkler had landed in the Territory but had not checked in at Cloncurry. Finally just after midday Hinkler touched down at Camooweal saying he’d slept the night in the desert. He had become lost and landed near a windmill where an astonished stockman was pumping bore water for his cattle. He gave the stockman a note to take to Brunette Downs and camped with the herd for the night.

In Camooweal he fueled up then went for a beer at Reilly’s Hotel and stayed the night at a party in his honour. The following morning the two Qantas pilots gave him an honour guard to Cloncurry where there was a welcome from 100 people. He soon took off to Longreach with stops at McKinlay and Winton and arrived at 4.50pm to a band playing See The Conquering Hero Comes. At Longreach he had dinner with Qantas managers and rang his mother with the promise he would be home in Bundaberg the following day.

He left at 6.30am on February 27, 1928 and followed the railway east towards Rockhampton. Rumours spread he was going to land there but he didn’t, leaving hundreds disappointed. Finally at 4.15pm he arrived at Bundaberg where the entire town and even the Premier of Queensland was waiting at the landing area marked by oil fires and a white calico cross. Police could not control the crowd which risked their own lives rushing to the plane. There was one person he wanted to see and he greeted her with “hello, mum.”

Hinkler told the press it was the proudest moment of his life to fly home to Bundaberg and praised “British workmanship and British organisation” for getting him there. Australians could now “look Lindbergh in the eye”, a year after the American flown from New York to Paris. Hinkler was cheap too, he had used just 2000 litres of petrol at a cost of just £45 and another £10 for oil.

With his reputation assured he went on a triumphant tour of Australia before returning to England. He was named the most outstanding aviator of 1928, following Lindbergh a year earlier. He continued to race planes in England and North America. In 1931 he flew south to Brazil and became the first to fly the South Atlantic crossing from Natal, Brazil to Bathurst, The Gambia in a dangerous 22 hour journey through ocean storms.

In 1933, aged 40, he pushed his luck once too often. Setting off on another solo flight to Australia in a Puss Moth to beat the new record of 8 days 20 hours, he went missing in Italy. His body was found four months later next to his crashed plane in the Tuscan mountains. Mussolini, who aspired to be an aviator himself, buried Hinkler in Florence with full military honours with 100,000 mourners filing past his coffin. Among the many honours for him in Australia in the coming years was the Bundaberg federal seat renamed in his honour in 1984. The Hinkler Hall of Aviation, complete with his house Mon Repos, taken brick by brick from Southampton, remains one of Bundaberg’s major attractions.

Six Keys: The 1932 Cloncurry bank robberies

The Bank of New South Wales in Cloncurry 1932. Illustration from the book Six Keys.

The Daily Mercury of Wednesday June 15, 1932 reported a daring robbery in Cloncurry the weekend before. Around £14,000 was stolen from two banks, so much cash it was “extremely difficult to carry on ordinary business” in the town. On state election night in 1932, thieves breached the strong room of the National Bank and made off with £11,000. The burglars also found the keys to the nearby Bank of NSW, where they helped themselves to another £3000. The culprits were never caught, despite a £500 reward.

The double robbery was the talk of the town. Police were confident they would solve the crime but ran into a wall of silence. No one was ever charged despite strong suspicions that last to this day. In 2010 author John Joseph Williamson put together his version of events in 6 Keys: The Cloncurry Bank Robberies. Williamson says his account was a fictional account of proceedings but used the names of real people. He could accuse at will without risk of defamation: all the characters involved were dead.

As well as testimony from Roy Martell of Cloncurry, Williamson accessed the archives of the Queensland National Bank (now NAB) and Bank of New South Wales (now Westpac). While he also sourced newspaper articles, most of what he wrote was hearsay and a compilation of “apocryphal stories and anecdotes”. Williamson does not apologise for naming the robbers in his account. He said it was common knowledge in Cloncurry and their exploits were “already folklore”. He said recording the names was in the interest of Cloncurry and Queensland.

The year 1932 was the middle of the depression and Cloncurry was not spared, with many local mines closed down. It was a small town where everyone knew everyone. People were kept informed by the Cloncurry Advocate which came out every Saturday.

The QN and the Wales were the only two banks in town. QN branch manager Lewis Holland lived with his wife in the bank residence on the corner of Ramsay and Sheaffe St until Mrs Holland became disillusioned with remote life and left. Holland invited teller Stanley Spilsbury to move in. Spilsbury was fond of gambling and had a financial relationship with local identity and gambler Cyril Chaplain who gave him racing information and also, racing debts.

The bankers employed a live-in housekeeper Folly Faithful, a widow who liked and looked after them both. Faithful attracted the attentions of Eric Guerin, owner of His Majesty’s Hotel in Scarr St. Guerin was also the occasional accompanying violinist to the Bio Talkies cinema‘s silent movies. Guerin and Faithful struck up a relationship. After a movie, they went to the bank for tea where she introduced him to Holland and Spilsbury.

Guerin saw the two men were careless about bank keys left lying around. After reading in the North Queensland Register about a robbery in Townsville with duplicate keys made from impressions while the holders were at the town baths, Guerin had a similar idea. He studied the bank employees’ habits and noted they both went out every Saturday night. Faithful told him the money was kept in a strongroom which needed two keys to open, one with Holland, the other with accountant Justin Cosgrove. There were also two keys to the treasury safe, held by Holland and Cosgrove. Inside the safe were two locked drawers which held the money. Holland had the key to one drawer, Spilsbury had the other. There were six keys in all, held by three men.

The best time to rob the bank was Saturday night when the employees were out drinking and also when the safe was full with money for the week ahead brought in on the Townsville train. Guerin believed it would be easy to get the four keys held by Holland and Spilsbury. Cosgrove would be more difficult. He watched Cosgrove’s movements but he never strayed far from his keys. He would have to be lured away. Guerin also considered how to make duplicates of the keys. Needing allies he took Tom Anderson into his confidence.

Anderson was the owner of the Bio and a dodgy friend, well known in Cloncurry as a cattle thief. Anderson thought Guerin was joking and pointed out problems. Who would copy the keys and who exactly would carry out the robbery? Nevertheless, Anderson was excited, They considered talking to George Duffy, the key cutter who worked for the railways. Anderson noted Duffy was Cyril Chaplain’s man. They decided instead to go to Chaplain.

Cyril Chaplain was the “Little King” of Cloncurry. He grew up on a cattle property which he eventually managed. By 1932 the Chaplains owned two stations and the town slaughterhouse and stockyards as well as the iceworks and a butcher’s shop. They also owned the Big House, the grandest house in Cloncurry on the corner of McIlwraith and Seymour Sts. Cyril trained racehorses which his brother “Boomarra” Chaplain rode and he kept good relations with local police who ignored his betting activities.

Guerin and Anderson told Chaplain their plans. As well as getting his opinion on Duffy, they asked him to carry out the actual robbery. Chaplain said he would need to bring Boomarra in as well as Duffy. They agreed to split the takings, half to Guerin and Anderson, the other half to the Chaplain gang.

Boomarra and Duffy were best mates though Duffy was distracted by an affair with Peach O’Callaghan, wife of the new shire clerk from Townsville. Duffy was doing odd jobs at the house and the pair became entangled while the husband was away.

The five would-be robbers got together to work out a plan. Duffy arranged for overtime work to make impressions of the keys while they worked out a way to get Cosgrove’s keys. The plan was to convince him to go bathing at the Two Mile waterhole where they could take impressions while he swam. After they got the six impressions it would then be a matter of choosing the best time to do the robbery.

The gullied Two Mile was the most popular waterhole on the Cloncurry River and had privacy to dress and undress. Chaplain invited Holland for a swim to discuss a cattle deal. He also invited Cosgrove who was standing nearby. Chaplain and Duffy collected the bank men and drove them to the waterhole. While swimming, Duffy checked Cosgrove’s pants to ensure the keys were there but they needed a second outing to steal them to make the impressions. On that occasion Duffy invited Peach and her girlfriends to make the trip more appealing to the bankers. Peach was reluctant but Duffy said it would be worth her while which piqued her curiosity.

Duffy carried beeswax blocks to the river which he put in a case so they wouldn’t melt. Peach wanted to know what the beeswax was for. Duffy said it was polish for the car. On the day of the outing Duffy claimed to have a migraine so remained in the car while the others went swimming. Duffy grabbed Cosgrove’s seven keys and made impressions of them all, not knowing which ones were for the bank. When the job was done he returned Cosgrove’s keys to the pocket.

The next task was to remove Holland and Spilsbury’s keys. Guerin did this on a Saturday night after the men returned from their drinking and slept on the verandah. Faithful discovered Guerin in Spilsbury’s room. He told her he was putting the keys back. Instead he took them to the waiting Duffy who made copies. Whey they found out Faithful had caught him, Chaplain was furious. Guerin assured him Faithful would not spill the beans. Chaplain insisted Guerin would have to give her a job to get her away from the bank.

After getting the impressions, Duffy had to make the duplicates. He chose seven keys as two looked similar and then made an eighth key for the front door.

Meanwhile Chaplain worked on alibis for Duffy and Boomarra to carry out the robbery. He wanted them to start a routine at the Prince of Wales pub and park their car in the same visible spot. On Saturday night they would invade the bank to see if the keys work, but not actually rob it. Duffy did the break-in using Guerin’s plan of the house with Boomarra on lookout. Duffy had trouble with the strongroom key and played with it for over an hour, filing the web until it finally worked. He had the same problem with the second key.

Outside, Boomarra was holed up by a chatty friend. Boomarra was concerned but eventually Duffy arrived on the scene and they went to the pub. Duffy told him he had successfully worked two keys. Because of the noise Boomarra’s friend was making, Duffy had no time to do the rest. They would have to repeat the test three weeks later to try the other four keys. The second time they got them all to work and found a surprise inside the safe – duplicate keys for the nearby bank of NSW.

When the gang next met they decided to do both banks and to take a bag of silver coins also in the safe, which they would bury in a gully near the slaughterhouse. They set a date for the robbery of the following Saturday after finding out the Wales bank manager was away that weekend.

Saturday, June 11 was Queensland state election day and there was an election night party at the Katter house which the conspirators used as an alibi. The pubs were supposed to close on election day but police turned a blind eye. It was a busy day in town with people thronging from the stations. On the night, Boomarra was assigned “cockatoo” (watch) while Chaplain and Duffy went to the banks; first to the National where they emptied the safe and took the Wales key. They finished in 20 minutes but outside they found two drunks at Boomarra’s ute. Eventually they left and the robbers loaded the ute before driving to the Wales. Duffy and Chaplain went in by forcing a latch. They quickly opened the safe and took notes and silver in six heavy calico bags.

Duffy met Faithful and they went to the Katter party while Boomarra and Chaplain drove the ute to their house where they transferred the notes to another car before driving the ute back to town. At 3am Boomarra and Duffy drove to the slaughterhouse to bury the barrels containing the coins. Their car light was spotted by slaughterhouse worker George Park who resolved to investigate in daylight. Chaplain took the other car to an unoccupied outstation two hours away where he hid a metal trunk containing the money. The following morning Park found the site of the first overnight dig and uncovered six drums which contained the silver coins. He stole two drums and buried them elsewhere. He never reported his find to police and eventually claimed £500 from all six drums when the robbers failed to return.

No other suspicions were aroused until Monday when the Wales manager opened the safe to discover it was empty. Wondering where the thieves got the keys he rang the QN where Cosgrove had made a similar discovery. When he said Holland showed the strongroom to Cyril Chaplain earlier on Saturday, Spilsbury told him to be quiet about it, making Cosgrove suspect it was an inside job.

Police had similar suspicions especially when they realised the six keys were involved. They found a tyre imprint outside the bank, a Goodyear which the local tyre dealer reckoned he sold to six people. A similar tyre mark was found outside the Wales. Boomarra’s ute fitted the description.

Duffy discovered two coin barrels were missing and blamed Anderson, whom he felt didn’t deserve any takings. He punched Anderson who had no idea why he was attacked. Cyril told him it wasn’t Anderson as the silver he took to the bank on Monday was takings from the Bio on the weekend.

Most townspeople were in awe of the robbery and unwilling to communicate, much to police frustration. Criminal Investigation Branch sub-inspector Alfred Jesson and local police suspected Boomarra’s ute was involved and therefore Cyril Chaplain’s gang. But tyre shop owner Barney Long’s premises were torched which had the desired effect. Long was no longer sure whose tyre tracks were involved in the robbery.

Police believed the robbery needed inside bank knowledge and concentrated on Spilsbury who bet on the horses and owed money to Chaplain. Spilsbury denied all knowledge under hostile questioning, as did Holland. Both suffered with the bank for their cavalier attitude in leaving keys lying around but were never charged. Police interviewed Boomarra who said he was at the pub. Faithful vouched for Duffy who was at the party. Chaplain also provided alibis at the pub. Convinced the money was still in Cloncurry, police mounted road blocks for two weeks. Investigations came to nothing and rewards went unclaimed.

Chaplain paid off the others who were impatient to get money immediately. Then he bided his time and laundered the money through Townsville and Brisbane bookmakers at a 50 percent discount. Though Guerin took no part in the robbery, Chaplain remained grateful to him for the “fantastic idea”. Williamson said Guerin later told Roy Martell the story, saying “if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it”. Martell died around the time of publication. All the other participants were long dead. The Cloncurry robbery had descended into myth.

Contemplating history at Toowong Cemetery

Cemeteries are ineffably sad and poignantly beautiful places. Brisbane’s Toowong Cemetery is in the rolling hills beneath Mt Coot-tha and much of the city’s history and memories are buried here. The heritage-listed cemetery, Queensland’s largest, came into being as Brisbane grew rapidly westward in the 19th century. After the council set aside land in the 1860s, Queensland’s second governor Samuel Blackall was the first person to be buried here. He selected the highest spot on the land for his grave.

Blackall was an Irish soldier appointed governor in 1868 to popular acclaim but was plunged into a constitutional crisis. After a deadlock in parliament the Liberals lost the election but petitioned Blackall to dissolve the assembly saying it did not properly represent the colony. Blackall refused and the crisis rolled on through his tenure. The kindly and soft-spoken Blackall remained popular but by 1870 his health declined rapidly. He died January 2, 1871, aged 62. Parliament voted £500 for the erection of a monument over his grave. Designed by architect Francis Stanley, it remains the tallest spire at Toowong.

The second person buried in Toowong was 21-year-old Ann Hill, only child of Walter and Jane Hill. Born in 1850, Hill died of a lung complaint on November 3, 1871. Walter Hill was trained as a botanist in Scotland and appointed superintendent of Brisbane’s Botanic Gardens in 1855. He introduced the jacaranda and poinciana trees to Australia and helped popularise the mango and pawpaw trees. The Walter Hill fountain was named for him in the city botanic gardens.

Near Blackall’s monument is another to an administrator in the 1860s Queensland constitutional crisis. Maurice O’Connell was born in Sydney in 1812, the grandson of William Bligh. He formed an Irish regiment in the British Auxiliary Legion which fought in Spain’s Carlist Wars in the 1830s and returned to New South Wales where he was elected to parliament. He was a founder member of Queensland’s parliament in 1859 and president of the council for two decades until his death in 1879.

Nearby is the grave of Arthur Palmer, Queensland’s seventh premier. Born in Ireland in 1819, Palmer moved to NSW as a young man and worked his way up to become general manager for Henry Dangar’s properties. He moved to Queensland in 1861 as a squatter and entered parliament in 1866, serving as a minister. Blackall, in one of his final acts, appointed him premier in 1870. Palmer wanted to bring in free education but that lost him support from Protestants and Catholics who benefited from the state aid system and he was defeated at election in 1874. His later years were shrouded in controversy over his directorship of the failed Queensland National Bank. He died in 1898 before the Supreme Court cleared him and other directors of blame.

Another of Queensland’s early governors is Sir Anthony Musgrave. Born in 1828 in Antigua, Musgrave was a global servant of empire with colonial positions in Antigua, Nevis and Kitts, Newfoundland, Natal, British Columbia, South Australia and Jamaica. He was appointed governor of Queensland in 1883 and clashed with premier Thomas MacIlwraith over Musgrave’s power to issue pardons. He died in office on October 9, 1888.

This grave commemorates James Forsyth Thallon, Commissioner of Railways. Thallon was born in Scotland in 1847 and moved to Queensland for health reasons as a young man. He joined the railways and worked his way up. He became Commissioner in 1902 and led Queensland Railways through rapid expansion. He was a supporter of Queensland’s narrow gauge which he called appropriate for a “young country”. A popular manager, his staff were devastated when he died of dengue fever in 1911 and they launched a subscription to erect this monument a year later.

This unusual monument marks the grave of Edward McGregor, born in Edinburgh in 1862. He worked for fellow Scot Thallon in Queensland Railways for 20 years before buying the Grosvenor Hotel. He built the Lyceum Theatre which he ran until his death in 1939. His wife Mary Jane died 18 years earlier and the sculpture is of McGregor mourning her death in 1921.

On the western side of the cemetery is the Russian Orthodox plot. Brisbane was the first place in Australia to establish a parish of the Russian Orthodox Church in 1925, as many fled the Russian Revolution. That church was rebuilt as St Nicholas Cathedral Church in Vulture St. It is one of four Orthodox parishes in Brisbane with another at Tweed Heads and a mission in Toowoomba. The Russian cross has three horizontal crossbeams, with the lowest one slanted downwards. The top crossbeams represents Pilate’s inscription INRI. The middle crossbeam is the main bar where the hands are fixed, while the bottom crossbeam represents the footrest which prolongs the torture.

Nearby is the Greek Orthodox section. Greeks are the seventh largest ethnic group in Australia with almost 400,000 people of Greek ethnicity in the 2011 census. While most lived in Melbourne or Sydney, some worked the cane fields in Northern Queensland. Paul Patty was the youngest of three Patty brothers who came to Brisbane to open up two cafes on Queen St. Brisbane’s most famous Greek resident was Corfu-born Lady Diamantina Roma, wife of first governor George Bowen.

The Jewish portion on the east of the cemetery has 800 graves. The first Brisbane Jewish community began in 1865, and its synagogue, Sha’arei Emunah (now Brisbane’s main synagogue in Spring Hill), was consecrated in 1886. There were then 446 Jews in Brisbane with 724 in Queensland. A second congregation opened in South Brisbane for Russian immigrants in 1928 and another opened at Surfers Paradise in 1961. Few immigrants settled in Brisbane after World War II, and the growth of the community has been slow with less than 2000 Jews in Queensland today.

Dr Harry Lightoller was born in Manchester in 1876 and came to Queensland where he became a well-known doctor in Ipswich. After a long trip to Europe where he studied “diseases of women” he returned to Queensland and retired to Brisbane with wife Minnie. They died within three years of each other in the 1920s.

Almost 8000 Australians died in the Gallipoli campaign of the First World War. They included Lt Leslie Norman Collin of the 15th Australian Infantry Battalion. He died two weeks into the conflict which had already descended into stalemate. On May 8 a party from the 15th Battalion captured the Turkish trench in front of Quinn’s Post, a key position at Anzac Cove. Next morning, they were driven back with many killed or wounded as they ran for the Australian line. Leslie’s cousin Stanley Collin Larkin fought in Palestine with the 2nd Light Horse and probably took part in the charge at Beersheba. Stanley was tragically killed days before the armistice after “four year’s hard service” at Gaza on October 28, 1918.

The lives of all who died in that war are commemorated in another monument and Toowong cemetery had a crucial role in making Anzac Day a national day of commemoration. When army chaplain Canon David Garland returned from the war he met many people at the graveyard honouring dead relatives. For 20 years Garland organised an annual Anzac Day service at Toowong. He helped form an Anzac Day committee and in 1923 the stone of remembrance and cross were laid in time for 1924’s Anzac Day. The “Evermore” inscription is from the Book of Ecclesiasticus as recommended by Rudyard Kipling for each Stone of Remembrance across the Commonwealth.

Brisbane racked up the dead again in the Second World War including Flight Lt Duncan Matheson. Matheson died in an air crash near Alice Springs aged 36. He was a passenger on a Douglas C-39 heading for Birdum, NT. The overloaded plane of the 21st Troop Carrier Squadron of the 374th Transport Carrier Group crashed after takeoff. It had arrived at Alice Springs the day before after a forced landing during bad weather after flying from Batchelor. After taking off it was seen to bank to the north east of the airfield before crashing and exploding in flames. Matheson was one of 11 men dead.

After all the war memorials it was a relief to see the Temple of Peace, though it too was a sad story. Built by Brisbane dissident and Wobbly Richard Ramo in 1924, the heritage-listed memorial is a cross between mausoleum and Indian temple. Its dedication took the form of a pacifist rally. Ramo was grieving for three sons killed in World War I, and an adopted son who committed suicide. “All my hope lies buried here,” Ramo wrote. He interred the recovered ashes of three of his sons in a red flagged coffin. “There is no Heaven! We Shall not meet again. Make thy Heaven here and thou shalt not have lived in vain,” is written near the ornate temple’s door.

My final stop was a pilgrimage of my own. I knew about boxer Peter Jackson from my Roma days as he died there in 1901. Jackson was a black boxer from the Caribbean who learned his ringcraft after moving to Sydney aged 16. He had success in the ring in Australia and Britain and moved to America where he drew after 61 rounds with Jim Corbett but world champion John L Sullivan would not fight him because he was black. After an injury Jackson gradually went downhill and contracted TB. He was advised to move to the drier air of Roma where he died. He was buried in an unmarked grave at Toowong. After a public subscription, Sydney mason Lewis Page carved a dazzling white Carrara marble monument over Jackson’s grave with an image that looks nothing like Jackson. The inscription is Shakespeare’s Antony quote about Julius Caesar: “This was a man”. When Jack Johnson won a fight in Sydney in 1908 to become the world’s first black heavyweight champion, he visited Jackson’s grave. A.E. Austin of the Brisbane Courier said Johnson spent a quiet few moments in silent contemplation at the grave of his brother-in-arms. “It was an impressive sight to see the living gladiator kneeling for a moment over the tomb of he who was Australia’s fistic idol”, Austin wrote.