Chris Dawson trial: Kettle of fish proves to be merely a storm in a tea-cup

As the proverb goes, a watched kettle never boils.

Chris Dawson leaves the Federal Court in Sydney on Wednesday. Picture: John Feder

As the proverb goes, a watched kettle never boils.

That little gem attributed to American Founding Father, inventor, writer and diplomat Benjamin Franklin was coined in the mid-1700s (though Franklin used the word “pot” in place of kettle.)

It loosely means that time seems to slow down if you’re ­focusing on a single thing and waiting for something to happen.

Franklin could very well have been describing day 43 of the Christopher Dawson murder trial in the NSW Supreme Court.

It had been rumoured before the doors to court 9D opened that this just might be the last day of a significantly long trial, ending with the defence’s closing submissions from barrister Pauline David.

To many, this was the focus. The end of more than two months of evidence, cross-examination and re-examination.

So the court was in a buoyant mood, though cognisant this trial was, in part, about the freedom or otherwise of former PE teacher and Newtown Jets rugby league star Christopher Michael Dawson, 73.

He has pleaded not guilty to the murder of his first wife, Lyn Dawson, on or around January 8, 1982.

David had begun her closing arguments about 2pm on Tuesday, and on Wednesday picked up where she left off, plunging into details of Lyn’s character at the time of her disappearance, reasoning this young woman was in the process of “serious contemplation” of her life and there were reasons why she might contemplate abandoning her family.

David told the court there may have been “misadventure” involved, which attracted the interest of judge Ian Harrison.

When she said misadventure, what was she referring to? he asked.

David said the defence didn’t know what happened to Lyn Dawson after she was dropped off at the shops at Mona Vale on Sydney’s northern beaches on the morning of Saturday, January 9, 1982. Maybe she had passed away. Maybe there was the “deeply unpleasant possibility” that she had taken her own life.

“But there’d be a body wouldn’t there?” queried Judge Harrison. “You can’t dispose of your own body after you’ve taken your own life.”

To which David countered with the example of former Australian prime minister Harold Holt, swept out to sea off Portsea, Victoria, in 1967.

When David proceeded to take the court through various alleged sightings of Lyn down the years, the kettle loomed. By the lunch break at 12.30pm, the examination of the sightings was still going, and resumed when the court reconvened an hour later.

The kettle, by this stage, had been switched on for four hours and was not even lukewarm.

David’s meandering monologue at times flared with moments of passion and exasperation, but overall it was flat, often circuitous and sometimes repetitious.

On several occasions, in a gesture of bonhomie, Crown Prosecutor Craig Everson SC assisted David and His Honour by finding references to transcripts and documents needed by the defence.

As the clock ticked down to 3.30pm, it was a certainty this trial was going to extend for at least ­another day.

And as the court adjourned, it brought to mind another Benjamin Franklin quote – no gains without pains.