Inside Goulburn’s Supermax: Terrorists, killers, gang rapists, bikies, and a one-fingered salute

The High Risk Management Correctional Centre at Goulburn jail – the H as it’s known by prison staff, Supermax to the public — is home to some of our most depraved criminals. We went inside.

One prisoner peers out of his cell, another gives the one-fingered salute. Life inside Goulburn Supermax.

Three o’clock looms at Goulburn’s Supermax prison, and inmates hover by their cell doors waiting for the dinner trolley to arrive.

From beside a burgundy-patterned prayer mat draped over the small window to his cell, an inmate peers out.

He spots a journalist and photographer having a look inside Australia’s most secure prison, and sticks his middle finger up before sliding his mat back across the opening.

The much-anticipated food trolley rounds the corner.

Folded beside the aluminium trays with tonight’s Mexican beef with peas is a copy of The Daily Telegraph.

Details of each prisoner — and their food preferences — are displayed near the door at the entrance to each cell. Picture: News Corp.

Dinner, Supermax-style: Beef, peas, bananas and a copy of The Daily Telegraph. Picture: News Corp

One inmate, an alleged drug lord, uses his prison buy-up allowance to purchase the paper each day.

This has been his home while he was remanded in late 2021 and denied bail.

An inmate peers from his cell. Picture: News Corp

A thumbs-up in the yard. Picture: News Corp

A Correctional officer opens the small hatch to the inmate’s cell door and hands him the paper, along with a banana.

The High Risk Management Correctional Centre at Goulburn jail – the H as it’s known by prison staff or Supermax to the general population – is home to some of the most depraved criminals.

Terrorists like Bourhan Hraichie, mass murders including Malcolm Naden and Ivan Milat for 18 years until he died in 2019, gang rapists, bikies.

Governor Faith Slatcher warns that inside the most secure wing is not like the movies.

Prison officers escort a prisoner in the block. Picture: News Corp

Cells line the main stairwell. Picture: News Corp

“You’ll find it’s almost hospital-like … it’s probably the quietest section of the whole prison,” she said.

“The inmates spend up to 22-hours a day in their cells, so there’s not a lot to see … The most noise you really hear is when they talk to each other through the walls”.

Cells are in pairs, and each door has an identification sheet above it. It includes the inmates’ name, length of sentence, dietary requirement, and, importantly, who they are allowed to associate with during their very brief visits to the exercise yard.

A few doors down the corridor sits another high profile inmate, smiling through the hatch and waiting for his meal.

Inside a darkened cell in Supermax. Picture: News Corp

An empty cell. Picture: News Corp

It’s a novelty to see another person, and breaks up the monotony of life in a cell.

An approved ‘outing’ to the prison exercise yard comes with an escort of four correctional officers, who only remove the handcuffs once the gate to the enclosure is locked.

The yards also feature shower facilities. Picture: News Corp

“Every yard has complete CCTV coverage from every angle, so they are constantly being monitored,” Ms Slatcher says. It’s a maximum of two inmates in the yard, but often they choose to go out there solo.

There is a covering over the yard so drones and helicopters can’t see in, an exposed toilet and a chin up bar.

“This is as good as it gets in terms of yards in here,” Ms Slatcher says. “Otherwise each cell has an outdoor area off it, but it’s only the same size as the cell.”

The yards are constantly monitored. Picture: News Corp

A prisoner’s handcuffs are removed as he enters the yard. Picture: News Corp

The tour is briefly paused, an inmate needs to be urgently taken to the prison’s medical clinic for his methadone dose and treatment. Surrounded by heavily-armed Correctives officers, he is escorted along the corridor which has airlocked doors for added security.

There are old-school keys, but also modern security such as airlocks. Picture: News Corp

Crude – but deadly – weapons seized by prison officers. Picture: News Corp

Every prisoner who arrives at Supermax is dressed in an orange jumpsuit for identification, body scanned then ushered to their cell.

NSW Corrective Services Commissioner Kevin Corcoran decides who gets visitors and who doesn’t.

He and his intelligence team thoroughly check every application. Even if you get approval for a visitor, it takes place between a glass screen, and is listened in on — except legal visits — for security reasons.

“I probably reject more than I approve, but that’s because we have to be so careful and so thorough about who we let in here,” he said.