Qld’s white-shoe brigade: Scoundrels got things done without red tape

In the days before bureaucracy and red tape got in the way, Queensland’s “white shoe brigade” got on with the job.

The foundations for the modern Gold Coast were laid by the ’80s white shoe brigade

Some of the developers who built this great state were scoundrels who broke all the rules. It might be an odd thing to say, but we owe them a debt of gratitude we cannot repay.

They brought wealth and prosperity to this great state and turned Queensland from a dusty backwater into an international tourism destination. They were visionaries who cut through red tape and hard rock to build resorts, airports, hotels and theme parks.

So today I dedicate this column to that courageous and often despised group of oddball characters who came to be known as the White Shoe Brigade.

Three cheers to Bruce Small, Keith Williams, Christopher Skase, John Longhurst and even Bernie Elsey. Please tell me if I have left anyone out.

Many of them were self-made men who sought political favours and cut corners. I met all of them as a young reporter on the Gold Coast Bulletin, and confess I had a sneaking admiration for all of them. These were not men put on this earth to be pushed around by meddling bureaucrats who had no skin in the game.

The White Shoe Brigade were essentially gamblers, and some paid a heavy price.

Perhaps the leader of the pack was Bruce Small, a moralistic conservative who as Gold Coast mayor took scantily clad meter maids on tourism promotional trips interstate and overseas.

Along the way he promoted his own tourist developments. Small became mayor in 1967 with the slogan, “Think Big Vote Small”. But he had designs on the Gold Coast well before that.

Sir Bruce Small

He bought a 40ha flood-prone mangrove swamp near the Nerang River believing he could turn it into a canal estate like those he has seen in Florida. He made a fortune luring cashed up retirees, many from Melbourne. Other developers copied him and the building boom he started has probably never stopped.

The cantankerous Keith William came to mind as I floated in the serenity of the infinity pool at Hamilton Island just before Christmas. It’s the quintessential Whitsunday Island resort and yachting paradise with glorious views that seem to never end. And it would not have happened without Williams.

The former bowser boy and water ski champion developed Sea World on the Gold Coast and later bought Hamilton Island before setting foot on it. He made an offer after he was awe-struck by its natural beauty as he sailed past.

From 1979 onwards he spent more than $100m improving the island but had to fight the knockers every step of the way.

In State Parliament in the early ’90s Williams attracted unwelcome attention. The ALP tipped one bucket after another.

Opposition leader Nev Warburton said Williams routinely flouted state laws and council regulations. Warburton was probably correct.

Warburton also painted Williams as a tyrant who created his own laws for the island and set himself up as policeman, judge and jury.

Keith Williams

“He has a system of fines for employees and other business operators on the island. For example, $100 for the incorrect parking of a golf buggy, which he simply takes from the employees’ wages,’’ Warburton told the House.

“No person can drive a golf buggy or other vehicle on the island with a blood-alcohol level in excess of .05.

“Now, you might say that is quite reasonable because that is the law. But, in the absence of any test to prove alcohol content, Williams, or his nominee, has the power to declare whether a person is over the limit and the fine is $100.”

All new employers had a good-behaviour bond deducted from their first pay cheque. Warburton also told Parliament Williams had failed to obtain necessary permits and approvals from the Proserpine Shire Council for construction work he had done. And he had breached industrial laws and awards.

Williams was a flawed model, but Hamilton would not have been created without his grit and determination.

Hamilton is now in safe hands. It became a family affair when yachting supremo Bob “Wild Oats” Oatley paid $200m for the island in 2003. Oatley and his son Sandy have since reportedly spent $500m revitalising Hamilton. The Oatleys were cashed up after selling Rosemount Wines in 2010 for $1.49bn.

John Longhurst was not a white-shoe developer. He was more a Gucci loafers man. He spent $13m and came close to bankruptcy building Dreamworld theme park on 26ha of unwanted land near the Gold Coast in 1981.

Christopher Skase

He had no council approvals and no masterplan when he and his son Tony, then 15, knocked down trees, moved mountains of earth, built roads and buildings, and even changed the course of the creek to accommodate the paddle steamer. But he did have the support of Albert Shire Council chairman Bill Laver. Laver and his aldermen believed they had lived in the shadow of the Gold Coast for long enough and wanted a slice of the tourism pie.

Dreamworld was so successful it attracted billions in investment in more theme parks and hotels.

Last year I returned to Marina Mirage in Port Douglas to rest after a road trip to the Daintree and points north. The showpiece resort built by Skase has never looked better. The service was superb.

Skase, of course, was ultimately revealed as a shady operator with colossal debts who had funnelled money abroad.

He fled to Spain and the former journalist died in Majorca before he could be extradited to Australia to face the music.

Marina Mirage remains a monument to his good taste.

There was no bothersome Crime and Corruption Commission to investigate blokes like Skase, Williams and Small.

And there were no anti-business environmental regulators or nitpicking council planners to stand in the way of their great developments.

John Longhurst