Prisoners lift the lid on navigating their first stint behind bars
Those who have done it say there are few things more intimidating than walking through the yard of a maximum security prison for the first time: “Do the wrong thing and you’re f...ed”.
Police & Courts
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Surviving in a maximum security prison is a daunting challenge few of us will face.
Not being free to live a life on the outside is dire enough but adapting to the psychological and physical challenges which confront the newcomer presents massive daily hurdles.
In the first of a three-part series, we look at what Victoria’s jails are like for a first-time offender.
The newbie
Those who have been inside say there’s not too many experiences tougher than navigating a first trip to prison.
Understanding a unique set of rules and culture, dealing with the intimidation of hardened inmates and all of the deprivations that come with life in the big house is no easy thing.
On admission, newcomers have their identity confirmed, are measured and photographed and hand over personal property and clothing to be returned on release.
They are stripsearched by officers, handed their prison-issue clothing, showered and asked to nominate who is on their visits and phone call list.
That’s only the beginning of the challenge.
“When I finally stepped into the yard, the gaze of veteran inmates felt like a physical weight,” one Victorian underworld figure recalled.
Though scared, he had to find a way through a sometimes brutal maze.
“How you handle this moment can set the tone for your entire prison experience. I chose to walk, maintaining a facade of confidence,” the man said.
“It’s very intimidating. Are you a sex-pest? Have you got paperwork? Show me?” he said of his reception in those early days in the system.
“It’s everyone for himself. You do the wrong thing and you’re f...ed”
Those who failed to understand the law-of-the-jungle framework were at great risk.
“No one cares what your problem is. You’re a sick c... out there. You’re nothing in here,” the former maximum security inmate said.
Now free, he said he was fortunate to have been looked after by some established Middle-Eastern inmates.
This provided a degree of security and mentoring in unspoken rules, prison vernacular and working through the institution’s hierarchy.
“That alliance was crucial, not just for physical safety but for understanding the prison’s undercurrents,” he said.
“It was about learning to navigate through fear, humiliation and the constant threat of violence or betrayal.”
One former prison officer agreed life for first-timers was daunting.
He said this was particularly so for “cleanskins” put away over things like culpable driving or fraud.
Those people had no experience of prison life or even the street smarts that came from being previously enmeshed in a criminal culture on the outside.
Often they would be the victims of standover activity or demands they bring in drugs for more seasoned inmates.
“We’d see blokes who were shitting their pants,” the ex-guard said.
One such case was a first-timer who, despite murdering two people, did not stray far from the sight of staff.
“He’d sit 20 feet from the officer’s station and read a book. He wanted to be under the watchful eye of officers.”
Former NSW MP Milton Orkopoulos found out the hazards the hard way two years ago.
Orkopoulos, a man more accustomed to navigating the perils of political life, was assaulted in Sydney’s Long Bay after being locked up for child sex offences.
In 2023, Evan Martin visited the cell of intellectually disabled pedophile Ashley Bropho and choked him to death in West Australia’s Hakea Prison.
Medical notes later showed Martin’s mental health had been deteriorating before the fatal incident and that he warned he was at risk of hurting others.
New detainees or those vulnerable for other reasons can find themselves at risk of sexual assault, by force or coercion.
Some major names have over the years gathered reputations for involvement in that kind of activity, which is almost never reported by a victim.
Sometimes, there are bizarre examples of behind-bars justice.
In 2018, a succession of younger inmates at Port Phillip Prison were summoned to appear before “kangaroo court” hearings in the cells of more established detainees.
A number left badly hurt after being whipped and bashed but declined to co-operate with investigations.
There are a few who come into the system equipped with the muscle to exploit opportunities.
One young inmate with links to one of Melbourne’s most powerful Middle-Eastern organised crime groups was able to launch a hostile takeover of the drug trade in one major jail, pushing aside the established order after organising a brutal assault on its leader.
“No one else was allowed to sell,” one former detainee said.
There is an informal code which is expected to be observed by others further down the tree.
Prisoners don’t like living with people who don’t wash, referred to within the system as “chats”.
Other things like paying your debts and waiting your turn are basic expectations in the outside world, but breaches will be harshly dealt with inside.
The practice of “air-raiding” — talking loudly about criminal activity — is discouraged.
Of course, manners can apply to some and not to others and new inmates asking established detainees why they are locked up can be frowned upon.
There are a couple of other verified safety tips which were helpfully explained in the excellent TV series Mr Inbetween.
Out in the real world, the word “champ” is a term of endearment.
Inside, it has another meaning altogether and can be a shortcut to a bashing.
Mr Inbetween’s Ray Shoesmith also made it clear that, for obvious reasons, that the toilet in a shared cell is not to be used for defecation.
“You try having a bloke back one out in your lounge room and see how you like it,” a source said.
Sometimes those who have done a bit of time but are in the pecking order’s lower reaches can be at enormous risk.
In 2020, small-time offender Mark Pollard walked into another inmate’s cell on the promise of getting a puff of a cigarette.
The ill and frail Pollard was bashed and stomped after socks were stuffed in his mouth to muffle any screaming.
Pollard would later die from his injuries, inflicted for his Adidas runners and a prized dragon ring.
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