Wooley: Finding a safe port amid a political storm won’t be easy

The next Tasmanian government faces ferry blowout and political reckoning, writes Charles Wooley

The Spirit of Tasmania IV – which is currently off the coast of West Africa – as it was departing from Leith, Scotland, late last month, as it began its journey to its new home in Tasmania. Picture: Supplied

With the TT-Line running out of money the next government will have no option to pay whatever it takes to “finish the job” as the Liberal election slogan so compellingly puts it.

The Spirits cannot continue to wander the high seas like the legendary cursed vessel, the Flying Dutchman.

But that salty old myth might be an appropriate metaphor for our times. The story goes that the ship was condemned to be forever at sea and to never find a port. It was crewed by the undead, damned souls who were doomed to be driven aimlessly by wind and tide and never to berth. Apparently the skipper, Hendrick van der Decken, had cursed God in a storm off the Cape of Good Hope and had rashly sworn an oath that he would beat the storm and round the Cape.

He swore he would finish the job even if it took him “to Judgment Day”.

Not unlike the decision taken by Jeremy Rockliff who, rather than stand down and hand the ship to another skipper, determined to test the electoral fates and stubbornly attempt to round the stormy political cape.

Like the story of Icarus who flew too close to the sun most legends are a caution against hubris and vanity.

The Spirit of Tasmania IV – which is currently off the coast of West Africa – as it was departing from Leith, Scotland, late last month, as it began its journey to its new home in Tasmania. Picture: Supplied

At a stretch the experience of Captain van der Decken and the Flying Dutchman might suggest that whoever seeks to govern Tasmania would be better advised to occupy the tranquil safe haven of the opposition benches.

That wisest observer of Tasmanian politics, the veteran journalist Wayne Crawford wrote as much in the Mercury this week, “What a frightful and unseemly mess we are in – the likes of which I have never before seen in 55 years.”

Crawford wonders who would want to take the helm of a government that is nearly bankrupt and has lost its way.

“The question now is whether Labor will indeed pick up the baton and seize government if it wins more seats than the Liberals. It has already passed up one opportunity to take control of Tasmania’s Treasury – with the support of the Greens – and who is to say that even with the most seats after July 19, that it won’t squib out again.”

The grim alternative would be to take on full responsibility for the ruinous but yet unknown cost of the Macquarie Point stadium and at the same time the stormy passage of not one but two Flying Dutchmen. And who might foresee how much further tribulation is to come before those hexed ships find a safe harbour.

For generations my Scottish forebears were all mariners and although they were practical engineers they were also influenced by the necromancy of the sea.

The Spirit of Tasmania IV – which is currently off the coast of West Africa – as it was departing from Leith, Scotland, late last month, as it began its journey to its new home in Tasmania. Picture: Supplied

My dad, Charlie, crewed ships around the world and sailed on coastal traders in Australia. He wasn’t overtly superstitious but as a kid I noticed that when he finished his boiled-egg at breakfast time he would drive the spoon through the bottom of the shell.

Turns out it was an old nautical tradition. Since the 1500s it was believed by mariners that witches would sail away in eggshells and create storms to sink ships.

The belief was common in Scotland and Ireland and even inspired a poem.

“So never leave your egg-shells unbroken in the cup;

Think of us poor sailor men and always smash them up;

For witches come and find them and sail away to sea.

And make a lot of misery for mariners like me.”

All sailors are superstitious. Some will not have bananas onboard and many will never change the name of their ship. Which precludes the fine old political tactic of changing the name of a failing enterprise. Remember how we saw the environmentally disastrous Forestry Tasmania rebirthed as Sustainable Timber Tasmania.

Transport Minister Eric Abetz was right to say it was “fanciful to suggest” that the original estimate, of $90m, would be sufficient to berth our ferries in Devonport, according to Charles Wooley. Picture: Nikki Davis-Jones

But the name ‘Spirit’ will have to stick. We surely don’t want any more bad luck. No eggs nor bananas aboard either thank you. Well at least not until we sight the Port of Devon. No point tempting fate

Meanwhile Transport Minister Eric Abetz was quite right to be a rational sceptic and describe the original estimate of $90m for the Devonport berth for our Flying Dutchmen as “fanciful to suggest”. How much more does TT-Line need? It expects to breach its $990m borrowing limit by October and will need bailing out. Eric has described the underestimated figure as “a clear failure”.

He can say that with admirable insouciance. Those who headed the TT-Line, and the Minister supposedly responsible, are all gone and vanished into the mists of some cautionary maritime legend. Nothing to see here.

And now in the spirit of the Flying Dutchman’s Captain Hendrick van der Decken, the only choice left is to finish the job.

Or face Judgment Day.

AND IN BREAKING NEWS ...

In late news, a flash from the future. The premier, whoever he is, gets a call from his senior advisor.

“Premier. The ferries have just sunk.

But there’s bad news and good news.”

“Are they insured?”

“Yes, with TasInsure .”

“OK. But the ferries have still sunk.

So what’s the good news?”

“Well Premier the good news is that now we don’t need to pay to build the berths in Devonport.”

Charles Wooley is a Tasmanian-based journalist