All posts by Mick Daley

The Sunshine Club – Sleeping rough on the Hawkesbury

Published in Sydney’s Neighbourhood Newspaper, 2018 Pics by Dean Sewell

About 40 people are scattered around the Hawkesbury Helping Hands van, sitting at picnic tables waiting for food to be served. Most are men, just a few women. All are gaunt and middle-aged or older, dressed in an assortment of op-shop discards. It’s unseasonably hot for this time of year, but thunder is threatening to the west. Tough weather to live in without benefit of air con or a roof. Soon enough, winter will create a whole new set of challenges.

Linda Strickland has about five conversations on the go as she bustles about. Hawkesbury Helping Hands is the service she set up to deal with a rising tide of homelessness in the Windsor and the Hawkesbury region. She seems to know everyone here by name and receives two marriage proposals tonight, once the burgers and salad are served.

The Hawkesbury and Nepean Rivers virtually encircle Sydney. City-dwellers associating homelessness with CBD street sleepers might only know these rivers from weekend house-boating or fishing trips. But anecdotally there are thousands of homeless people living in secluded enclaves from Windsor through Ebenezer and on to Wisemans Ferry, down south to Penrith.

“It’s impossible to figure out how many people are sleeping rough, d’yaknowotimean?” Linda says. “You can never get the true count because the Hawkesbury is so big and there’s so many places where they’re hidden away.”

She points out subtle distinctions amongst the diners: “Rough sleepers over there, car dwellers over here. On that other bench, by the river bank, that’s our long term campers. On a weekend that’d be full of kids. A car is one step up from a rough sleeper, although a lot of the people living in cars would say it was bad… Depending on the weather, it’s brutal.

“Those people there with the shopping trolley full of stuff are newcomers,” Linda says. The newcomers – a ravaged, skinny blonde woman, a short, confused-looking man with a withered arm, and another older man – sit apart from everyone, smoking.

“We set them up last night with a tent and they slept in the park.”

I sit down with two other men as they finish eating. Dave’s about 40, but he seems weary, older. Kimbo looks ancient, with a pale bushranger’s beard discoloured by tobacco and the elements. Dave starts talking to me about his hidden campsite by the river when Kimbo hands me a small note pad. On it he’s written:


That’s when I notice the hole in Kimbo’s throat and realise he can’t talk.

We’re interrupted by another river-dweller, Wendy, an anxious, barefoot woman eager to help. She asks Dave, “Can we have a chat about these new people? We’re thinking about putting them in Steve’s old camp.” Dave nods thoughtfully.

Kimbo passes me another note.


That’s an interesting wrinkle. The homeless helping their helper.

I’m hoping for more information but Kimbo vanishes – and Dave and Wendy are engaged in the more pressing business of getting the newcomers a campsite.

Linda bustles over to me. “Those three new people, they’re not in a very good way. I’ve asked Dave and Kimbo to look for a good camping spot but first we’ve got to transport their gear.”

Boy with discarded and burnt car at Hawkesbury region

Linda started her vocation seven years ago. She had a shop in Windsor selling the hundred pairs of cowboy boots she’d collected while living in Texas.

“One night the dogs went crazy and we looked out the window. There was a guy going through our garbage bin. I went outside and asked him ‘do you want a sandwich?’ but he ran away. That was my first in-your-face experience of homelessness, because they’re mostly hidden around here.”

Linda and her daughter began volunteering at a local soup kitchen. “It was closed on weekends so we said to everybody, ‘Meet us in the park on Saturday.’ The first Saturday we had seven people, now we have up to 80, sometimes 100.”

Mother and daughter had been at it for four months before a local journalist asked what they were called. Linda improvised the name – Hawkesbury Helping Hands. It stuck. “We had no idea in those days – we’re a tiny grassroots organisation but our community is huge, the largest area of Sydney.”

Their first year was tough. They were feeding people with their own money and donations from the local community.

“From mid-December to mid-January, nearly every service shuts down on the Hawkesbury but us, so we’re up to 10-15 hampers a day and amongst all that we do a free Christmas Day lunch. So till mid-January it’s a lot of work and little sleep. We run a breakfast club for kids and take lunches to the local high school five days a week.”

Over the past two years, Linda’s noticed a steep increase in people coming to meal services. “A lot of people can’t afford to have electricity on. How are they supposed to cook or have a shower? The rents are absolute murder. A one bedroom flat is $250 a week. If you’re a single mum it doesn’t matter how many kids you’ve got, you’re still gonna find it tough.”

As the lunchers start to disperse, Linda begins packing her van, still talking to people, asking pointed questions about living conditions, handing out brochures for specialist services.

“I would say 25 per cent of the people that come here are the working poor,” she tells me. “Living paycheck-to-paycheck. Once they’ve paid rent and bills, they’ve got nothing. We have a lot of single mothers. People think they’re all uneducated. But I’ve had women solicitors living in their cars coming to meal services, single women sleeping in cars in my backyard.

“Food is our priority. We’re not funded so we can’t do accommodation, but one thing we can do is make sure they have food, toilets and a safe place to be and if they have nothing we can give them a tent or a swag.”

Photographer Dean Sewell has been co-opted to drive the three new arrivals across the river to the unofficial camping grounds. Linda offers me a lift to meet them.

Her van is overflowing with boxes of food. I’m balancing trays of pavlova on my knee as we pull up in a car park alongside the wide, brown river.

“There’s been people living on the river bank here forever,” says Linda. “Aboriginal people, convicts. There’s caves up in the mountains where I’ve heard people have been camping for years.”

Linda takes off, late for a meeting.

It’s sweltering as I walk across the grassy river flats. Orchards are shimmering to the west, storm clouds leaning testily on the mountains. I can see Dean’s ute, people gathered round another vehicle. Beyond them a jungle of weeds, willows and wattle.

Kimbo’s brought a ride-on mower, on a trailer hauled by his battered Statesman sedan. Dave’s underneath the mower, trying to release the drive belt to start the machine. Finally he climbs out, shaking his head.

“The whole frame’s cracked,” Dave says.

Kimbo’s leaning on the trailer. A hoarse rattle issues from his throat. I see him wiping blood from the hole.

The three newcomers are standing by Dean’s car, looking warily at the thick bushland. Later it’s explained to me that DK has a form of cerebral palsy, a withered arm and a speech impediment. The older man is deaf. Preteena smokes cigarettes intently, as if she’s fighting rising panic. They all look as if they’ve endured some unspeakable trauma.

Dave and Kimbo show them one potential campsite, but DK looks unconvinced. The grass is very thick and there’s debris left by a previous camper – old tents and household rubbish. It’s a snake’s paradise.

Woman and Man drinking in Hawkesbury River

A burly bloke with few teeth and a loud voice strolls up. He’s carrying a golf buggy. He lives further along the river in an enclave of campers that’s been described as ‘rough’.

I ask if anyone swims in the river on hot days. The burly bloke chuckles through a mouth devoid of teeth.

“Some people do. I wouldn’t swim in it myself. All that crap coming off the turf farms and orange orchards and everywhere else.”

He points back towards some thick scrub. “Somewhere over there would be good for a camp,” he says, pointing into the thick scrub where we came from. “You don’t want to bring ‘em any further up here. Steve might get a bit funny if they get too close to his camp and he has a few beers.”

Meanwhile, Wendy arrives, barefoot again, and invites everyone to her place for a drink of cordial, but nobody responds. Her husband Robert suffers from dementia. Robert is able to drive their car but can’t engage in conversation. The couple sleep in the car with their small one-eyed dog, Winky.

Dean and I end up visiting Wendy and Robert’s nearby camp. It’s a sprawling mess, dominated by an old caravan. Stacks of hoarded materials, many shrouded in tarpaulins. Sagging tents are full with Wendy’s damaged and weather-worn goods.

Living without toilets or showers in those strangely crowded conditions cannot be pleasant. But Wendy puts a brave face on it. She fishes out tarps, ropes, cups and plates and says she’ll take them over to the newcomers.

A man, woman and dog in front of lots of collected junk

Dave selects a site deep inside the forest. It’s all burrs, wasps, flies and heat, abated somewhat by the sweet smell of fennel, which grows in abundance. Kimbo is despatched into town to fetch a new mower.

A qualified chef, a landscaper and welder, Dave describes himself as “an outdoors person”, which is handy as he lives on the river-bank with a cockatiel parrot.

“I’m from New Zealand, but I’d been living here for 16 years when I had my divorce,” he says. “When we split up she got everything, I got the bills. I had nowhere to go, so I came up and got a job concreting in Windsor. I saved up ten grand and bought a boat in Rose Bay. I was living in it till it sunk on Australia Day, so the second time round I came back here and got some welding work for a while.

“I was doing ok, paying child support for two kids, then the work closed down. I was due to get a tax return of five grand, then there was a child support over-assessment, so now I owe them eight grand. I’m only getting $375 a fortnight and I owe $20,000 from my marriage. I gave up my dodgy caravan, I was paying $220 a week for that. I lost my passport and had my wallet stolen, so now I’ve got no ID. Then every day was a nightmare looking for somewhere to live. In the end I just gave up and slept in the park.

“Being on benefits is not the bludge it’s made out to be. If you miss a job provider appointment you get suspended. If you don’t have money for an Opal card how do you get there? It’s catch 22. You’ve gotta jump through hoops just to get paid, it’s kind of a job on its own.

“I used to see homeless people and think well, get a job, now I see it’s not that easy.”

Dave doesn’t smile much, but he says living on the river isn’t too bad.

“Everything’s close by. It’s a lot quieter than the city, cheaper living, but it’s hard to find a job. It does get cold in the winter, but you’ve got the library to sit in. There are people living in abandoned places, those that are on the streets never sleep.”

When Kimbo returns with a functional mower, they start carving a pathway into the long grass. It’s hot work. Dave’s pushing the machine while Kimbo peers over the steering wheel, dodging tree stumps and old tyres.

Finally they iron out a flat spot with some shade. They’re followed tentatively by DK, Preteena and the older fellow – I never discovered his name – clutching their bags and the tents that Linda gave them from Hawkesbury Helping Hands.

“The snakes aren’t so bad,” says Dave. “I see one every now and then but I don’t mind ‘em. As long as they don’t get my bird.”

Thunder is rattling and a cool wind washes in through the trees. It commences to rain.

Man mowing long grass, Hawkesbury region NSW

A week later, at the fundraising BBQ in Richmond’s industrial suburb, Dave, Kimbo and Preteena are sitting in a large jury-rigged marquee in the stifling heat, waiting for customers. Preteena looks more relaxed, but her thin, pinched face speaks of more than one improvised exodus from hard times.

This lot, full of old machinery and a shipping container is the headquarters of Kimbo’s lawn-mowing business. It’s across the road from a dance academy where young girls in tutus are giggling. The RAAF base is up the road and Caribous occasionally roar overhead.

Kimbo’s proudly showing off his mowers in various states of repair. He reckons he has seven ride-ons and 30-40 push mowers. Dean and I buy rissoles on a roll for $3.50, cans of cold drink for $2. Dave starts cooking on one of three large commercial BBQs.

Kimbo passes me another of his notes:


He’s got several notepads bought in bulk. He claims to have started a radio station in Windsor, presumably before he had throat cancer. It’s not clear where Kimbo lives, but he reckons he’s got plenty of mowing work.

After we’ve eaten a silence descends on the BBQ. Dave’s scraping fat off the hot plate. He shows phone pictures of his campsite and the tiki bar effect he’s created, complete with flower arrangements and posters.

“I wanna build a little cordwood house just on the turf,” he muses. “No foundations in the ground. Council wouldn’t like that. I’d like to open my own business, but I’ve got so much debt from my marriage I can’t get a loan. What do you do?

“Homelessness is not about sitting around all day drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes. It’s stressful and it’s hard to get out of. It’s a vicious circle. You think you’re getting ahead and something happens and you fall back again, and you say to yourself, why bother? Why do I try?”

No customers show up to the barbeque.

When photographer Dean and I return a few weeks later things have changed dramatically. No-one’s home but the newcomer’s camp is well established with tents and tarps, a leveled floor, gardens and trenches to mitigate the recent heavy rains. The kitchen has a table, benches and shelves made from pallets. Cacti and basil planted in the garden.

There’s even a rickety gate. I recognise Dave’s handiwork. Having moved in to this camp, he and Preteena are in a relationship.

There’s a well-worn track to Wendy’s camp. Her hoardings have grown. Two more gazebos are pitched out the front of the old caravan, amid growing piles of damp paraphernalia. She’s been texting Dean with increasing desperation, asking him to come and help her out as she’s become isolated from the group. She blames Preteena.

As we’re waiting in the hot sun their car pulls up. Wendy emerges in a faded dress. “Oh thank goodness you’ve come. I’m just exhausted. I desperately need help.”

She’s looks tired, close to tears. There are scratches on her arms and legs. She’s clutching Winky like a life preserver. We say hello to Robert and he looks like he’s going to say something, but nothing comes out.

The recent heavy rains have exploded the undergrowth. Weeds and acacias hide jeering choruses of crickets, cicadas and frogs. Most of Wendy’s hoardings are covered in tarps, like a Christo exhibit.

“I know it must look scary from the outside,” she says. “But it’s all stuff I want to have in my house. I still envisage having a life one day.”

Wendy says she owns a house in town but had to leave it because Robert, increasingly ragged with dementia, kept locking them out. They have a daughter with autism who seems to have made a life elsewhere. She wants to sell the house, but it too is overflowing with compulsively acquired material. As are her three industrial containers on the edge of the common, visible from this campsite.

Wendy asks us to help her empty water out of roof bulges in one of the gazebos, propped above what seems to be the A grade rubbish. She demonstrates how to adjust the plastic jerrycans of water the guy ropes are tied to, in order to tension them. Then we’re shifting boxes of things around on a makeshift platform of pallets. Toys, chairs, prams, mouldy books, boxes full of empty boxes. Fishing rods, mattresses, rusted tins of food, a complete aluminum camping set of pots and pans.

She knows the provenance of every item. Her rambling commentary finds a laser focus if anything catches our attention. “That’s a vintage motorised fridge. The motor’s missing and of course it would need power.” She points out some rolls of dirty material in between tumbledown pallets. “That’s top quality commercial vinyl and carpet tiles I’m going to put on the pallets. I want to make a nice space for Robert to sit in out of the sun.”

Anything we do is purely cosmetic and makes no difference to the overwhelming mountains of junk, but our labours seem to make Wendy happy.

Robert watches silently, scratching his head.

Winky is scrabbling through the weeds. A rustle in the long grass announces what could be a snake. I wonder how long this little one-eyed dog will survive this jungle.

man stands at his campsite in the Hawkesbury region NSW

We tell Wendy we’ll come back in the morning to put up a new gazebo and walk back through the bush to the other camp. Dave’s sitting on a couch smoking. His bird is sitting too quietly in its cage.

“There’s something wrong with her [the parrot],” he says. “She’s usually singing and dancing about.”

Preteena phones him. She and DK are on the train to Windsor from Blacktown. Dean agrees to go pick them up. Dave talks about one of his business ventures. He used to weld sculptures out of steel tubing and sell them till his ex-wife threw them, and him, out.

He talks about ‘booting’, a computing term for kicking someone out of a chat room. I find it difficult to equate Dave’s CV as a welder and concreter with a secret life as a hacker, but he seems to be describing coding protocols that require a lot of expert knowledge.

“I used to build websites. If someone didn’t pay in the time agreed I had my own back door code to get in and disable the website. Only had to use it twice.”

He’s enthusiastic about pooling his money with Preteena and DK to rent a house. “Then I can get a job and get my shit together.”

Later, Dean, Preteena and DK arrive back loaded down with groceries. They’ve got lots of food from various charities and a stack of plastic cups from a Scientologist’s stall near Blacktown station. Preteena greets me warmly, like I’m an old friend.

DK gives a guarded look and ignores me.

One of DK’s occupations is begging in town. It’s a practice known as ‘coal-picking’. He’s been involved (unromantically) with Preteena a long time. From what I can gather he took the responsibility for some crime they’d both been involved in and he did jail time.

Seeing Preteena take up with Dave had prompted a competitive spirit in DK and he’d asked her to marry him. She rejected him.

Preteena tells me she’s suffering from both schizophrenia and cancer. She’s certainly had a hard life. She was kicked out of home by an abusive father in a small Queensland country town at age 14. She’s been raped several times and suffered other unspecified abuses.

But Preteena’s tough, a survivor. She’s raised six children and is very proud that the father of some of them is an Aboriginal man. She takes a kind of fierce, malignant joy out of living against the grain of a judgemental system.

“I’m a chef like Dave. He’s not the only one who can cook,” she claims, in a bellicose squawk. Turns out she’s been a shearer’s cook, working big sheds in Queensland. But she’s not cooking tonight. Tonight she wants to party.

She sits at the other end of the couch from Dave. They’re both drinking cask wine out of sports drink bottles. He keeps bringing the talk around to houses he’s seen in the paper, real estate agents he’s talked to. Preteena isn’t interested.

Everything’s too expensive.

woman putting on make up

She’d rather talk about who she’s seen in town. Her stepson, “a real bad-boy”, made an appearance briefly, before being recognised by the police and scarpering. Somehow she’d spent $700 today. The blame for this is increasingly, it seems, being laid at DK’s feet, though Dave, inadvertently, is responsible too.

“You cunts owe me money!” she growls. “Yers have both been sayin’ ‘lend me money, I’ll pay ya back’.”

“I get paid tomorrow Preteena. Give us another cone,” DK demands.

“You fucken better. I’ve only got twenty dollars left out of seven hundred.”

Wendy can be heard, howling and sobbing in her camp. To drown out the noise DK has a radio tuned, loudly, to a local radio station playing ’80s hits. It inspires Preteena to reminisce on a recent triumph.

“Did you see the photos Dean took of me before the Mardi Gras? Gawd, I’ve never had my photos taken like that before. He got me to face this way and turn that way, get the best light an’ that. I was all dressed up in me stockings and mini skirt.”

They’d taken the train to Strathfield, but that’s as far as they got. Dave bought a bottle of whisky and Preteena had her own Mardi Gras, commuters gawking as she prowled the platform, giving a raunchy exhibition in her sheer stockings, g-string and short skirt.

“I wasn’t afraid. I had my boys with me.”

During the night the camp has two other visitors, both men in their 60s. They work and sleep rough further along the river. Both comment on the noise coming from Wendy’s camp. Preteena’s personality changes remarkably, becoming effusive. She makes them cups of coffee and butters bread for a snack. It’d be easy to believe she was a stabilising influence in this camp, but for the relapse into character the minute they’re gone.

We can still hear Wendy caterwauling. Occasionally Preteena hollers “shutup ya mad bitch!” As it’s getting dark Wendy comes down the path, arm-in-arm with the tottering Robert. Preteena goes to her in a show of solidarity. Wendy recoils. She demands to know why she’s being reviled and ignored. DK is at the gate telling Wendy to go.

Eventually Wendy alludes to Preteena’s ailments. “She hasn’t got cancer,” she says. “She’s just smokes too much pot.”

Dave loses his temper at that.

“Fuck off!” he bellows.

Wendy retreats howling, dragging Robert with her.

Man in cowboy hat and woman in wig at Windsor Station

With the night seeming to slow down, Dean and I stretch out on swags. But we can hear Preteena getting drunker and more argumentative. “I want my fucken money. You cunts owe me 700 dollars!”

DK goes to his tent, still playing the radio; ‘Africa’ by Toto to drown out Preteena’s profane croaking. Dave has words with him and Preteena starts screaming. Wendy, too has started howling again in the distance. This sets the tone for the next several hours.

Eventually Preteena concludes that DK stole the money.

“I’m callin’ the cops!” she screams.

Soon the policeman on the other end of her phone call is trying to get a fix on her position, but her explanation is crazed, incomprehensible. She hangs up.

“See? You better run DK, or you’re goin’ back to jail.”

“That’s it, I’m goin’ to my mum’s,” shouts DK.

He makes it to the gate, the first of many times. But DK is psychologically tethered by a trauma bond so elastic that he constantly ricochets back to the camp, for more rounds of incoherent recriminations.

The night dissolves into an endless cycle of bickering. About 3am I crawl off into Dean’s truck. At dawn he wakes me and we walk about 500 metres to the river.

“The other morning I got talking to a woman exercising her horse,” says Dean. “I told her what I was doing and she had no idea homeless people were even camped here.”

Back in the scrub at the other camp, Wendy and Robert are up. They have no working stove to make a cup of tea. Wendy has barely slept and is incoherent, her long rambling stories going nowhere.

Dean starts moving boxes off a platform in a vague effort to help out. I pull a tarp from a basket to reveal a sodden mess of old clothes.

“That’s washing,” Wendy exclaims. “I haven’t got to that yet.”

“Every day is exhausting looking after Robert,” she confides. “He’s very difficult because he has these inertia traits, so everything you try to do he refuses to help and he’ll be wandering around behind me telling me that I can’t do it either.”

We can still hear screaming and shouting coming from Preteena’s camp.

“It never stops,” Wendy sobs, collapsing hysterically in the long grass. Roberts stands expressionless above her, staring into the white noise of crickets and cicadas. Pulling herself together, Wendy hands us a box of parts to erect another gazebo. When we come to the last pole in the roofing section, it’s not there.

“Where did you buy this Wendy?” asks Dean.

“I got it secondhand from Gumtree. All the pieces are there.”

She sorts through them carefully. Finally she’s forced to admit that the gazebo can’t be built, till she’s found the missing piece.

That’s it. We have to go. As we’re leaving Wendy leans into the car, crying.

“I don’t know what to do,” she cries. “Those people are crazy. I’m afraid. Robert can’t do anything to protect me. He used to be a rehab counselor. He was very good at his job, very empathic. Now he can’t even give me a hug with any oomph in it.

“I was a trauma counsellor too. Our plan was to run our own counseling service from here. Robert used to have a poem above his desk, by a Christian missionary called CT Studd.”

She recites from it from memory:

“Some want to live within the sound
Of church or chapel bell;
I want to run a rescue shop,
Within a yard of hell.”

We leave Wendy tearfully waving goodbye from her fortress of junk. We can still hear Dave, Preetena and DK from the other camp, screaming at each other. Only Dave’s bird has been silent, all night long.

Welcome to the Sunshine Club.

one tent and a chair in Hawkesbury region NSW

ABS stats released in March this year show a 37 per cent increase in homelessness in NSW in the five years leading up to 2018. As homeless people are by definition unlikely to have received a census form, the figure of 57 homeless people given for Windsor seems hopeful at best.

In the camps around the Hawkesbury that photographer Dean Sewell and I visited we met many vulnerable, damaged people, going under from mental illness and society’s inexorably high cost of living. They’re not starving, but they’re bereft of the security and hope most people of this privileged nation take for granted. There are more of them every day.

Behind Closed Doors

Posted in the City Hub

A Sydney Morning Herald article last week on housing market inequalities caused by government rezoning is only half the story, according to activist Maire Sheehan.

The one-time Mayor of Leichhardt says that confidential rezoning decisions made between developers and planners are driving property prices up and encouraging ‘Hong Kong’ style residential high rises to be built in Sydney’s suburbs.

“These developers are pushing the boundaries based on the known state government agenda to develop at all costs,” Sheehan told the City Hub. “Big developers hire people who know the system and can put their arguments behind closed doors as to why things should be swayed one way or another.

“No-one knows what’s going on in those conversations and a lot of those decisions in those meetings are based on judgement. There are not very specific rules involved and when you get decisions based on an individual’s judgement, people can be swayed one way or the other.”

The SMH story cited a Reserve Bank report saying that land zoning determines up to 70 per cent of a house’s value. Development restrictions therefore have been found to contribute to the runaway inflation of housing prices.

In Sydney, this adds around $490,00 to the cost of house.

Jimmy Thomson, who writes the Flat Chat columns on strata living for the AFR, says that zoning in the City of Sydney is a farce.

“NSW is a complete mess. We’re now having rezoning by stealth, driven by a company in San Francisco that pays no tax in Australia and I’m talking about Air B&B.

“We’re now having residential apartments encouraged by the government to be turned in de facto hotels. That’s just one tiny part of the zoning issue, but anybody who has bought into property in NSW with a specific zoning who thinks that’s something reliable they can depend upon for the next twenty years, they’re kidding themselves.

“Commercial interests will prevail over public policy every time.”

Manipulation of zoning decisions is indeed big business, according to Sheehan. She says that developers often arrange pre-DA (development application) meetings behind closed doors, in order to have Planning Controls altered and arrange rezoning in their favour.

“The context of that is the state government is pushing increased residential development for the increased population coming to Sydney and developers are the ones really benefiting from their decisions.”

“There are three clear examples in recent history where developers are getting in ahead of the game, before announcements are made on particular areas, before plans are signed off.”

Sheehan pointed out that the old Bourbon and Beefsteak building in Darlinghurst Rd, Kings Cross, had been zoned mixed use, but was regarded as hot property by investors.

“The proposal was to knock it down, rezone it as residential and increase the density of a high rise building. The developers went in and had a pre-DA meeting with the City of Sydney. They’ve come out with this plan and the locals are really annoyed about it, because it requires an up-zoning and a demolition.”

Another proposed development in Lord’s Road, Leichhardt has raised the hackles of residents and Inner West Council Mayor Darcy Byrne, so much so that he’s considering referring it to ICAC.

The area was zoned light industrial, being full of craft breweries, art studios and small startups.

“There is quite a mix in there,” said Sheehan. “A development company have bought a lot of it and are pushing to rezone it. Well the planning panel for the Inner West knocked it back on the basis that there was a lot of employment in that area. From there it went to the Department of Planning and Environment to get signed off. But it’s been there a while and hasn’t been signed off.

“In another case in Strathfield a business went to council and said they had a small technical issue that needed a tweak on zoning. They said ‘we should have special consideration because we’re a big employer’ and they presented a letter saying ‘here are our plans for the future’. So a report came back that said yes, that minor technical adjustment is no problem.

“Five months later it turns out the business had sold that land to a development company who wants to rezone and put in high rise residential

“The council did the assessment, but the decision was made by the Planning Department. The owner of land was saying one thing and doing something quite different several months later. And they got away with it.

“Is this corruption? Technically no. All this flexibility has been made legal. In other countries corruption has been made visible but in Sydney, and in Australia in general they’ve just changed the rules so they have this flexibility to make it all justifiable.

“And because it’s so embedded in the system it’s hard to untangle. The whole thing is complicated further by such things as the older generations locking young people out of housing. There’s a story in Crikey on how the Grattan Report says that those opposed to high density housing in established suburbs are partly responsible for driving up the cost of housing.”

In an apparent attempt to mitigate the opaque dealings of its bureaucrats, the Department of Planning and Environment has legislated Independent Hearing and Assessment Panels (IHAPS) to consider contentious development applications, from the first of March this year.

Councillors, property developers and real estate agents will not be part of these panels.

Although fifteen Greater Sydney councils already use IHAPs, it’s been on a purely voluntary basis until March.

Concrete quarrels

Published in the City Hub, Feb 28, 2018

The future of Sydney’s working harbour has been a controversial issue of late, with massive residential construction threatening to overwhelm its viability. Steered by the government-owned Urban Growth Corporation (UGC), these developments have reduced the working harbour to 39.7 hectares.

But it appears that lack of government oversight, compounded by the differing agendas of successive administrations, is creating inevitable confrontations in user amenity.

Greens MP for Balmain, Jamie Parker, said that inadequate planning is to blame for the cascading problems.
“The bays area has been mismanaged by state government after state government,” he told City Hub. “And that’s one of the reasons why the current government gave this whole Bays Precinct to Urban Growth; so one body could be charged with managing that whole area.
“It hasn’t been particularly effective, considering that Westconnex has now taken the whole Rozelle good yard area and Sydney Ports has been really adamant about ensuring that Glebe Island remains industrial use.”

Nowhere has this issue created more controversy than in the suburban conglomeration at Pyrmont, adjacent to Glebe Island, zoned as an industrial facility for over a century. Sydney’s Port Authority are proposing the construction of a major ship loading depot and the movement of Hanson Concrete to the island, with industrial activity on a 24/7 basis.

A report in the Domain’s Commercial real estate publication has documented white-hot anger from residents who claim they were assured by developers they were buying into a purely residential sector.
Originally an industrial hub itself, Pyrmont boasted only 530 dwellings in 1991. That figure has swelled by a factor of 12 in recent decades.
The residential redevelopment of the current Fishmarket site will presumably amplify new buyers’ dissent against the functions of the working harbour.

But the facts seem to be against them. Glebe Island, along with White Bay and Rozelle Bay, are still zoned waterfront industrial. Sources claim that apart from the loading facility, Glebe Island is proposed as the major transport hub for all the tunnel digging and aggregate from the Metro and Westconnex excavations.

A Port Authority spokesperson told the City Hub, “There is a crucial need for Sydney to import critical construction materials due to the depletion of local sand supplies. Glebe Island is in close proximity to CBD construction, urban renewal and a construction boom driven by $70 billion of major infrastructure projects.”

She pointed out that a single vessel will replace up to 1500 truck movements.
“The proposed short-term facility would … feature internal truck receival and delivery facilities to reduce noise emissions. It would operate 24 hours per day, seven days per week as required.”
The Authority, she said, is currently seeking community feedback on the proposed facility.

UGC sent City Hub the following statement: “The Bays west area is envisaged as a mixed-use precinct with a focus on high value ‘jobs of the future’ and the working harbour. UrbanGrowth NSW is working with industry, community and government partners to determine appropriate uses for the area.
Port Authority is responsible for the development of its own facilities at Glebe Island.”

Alex Greenwich, Independent MP for Sydney, says that the Pyrmont community has received mixed messages from the government as to what the usage of the site would be.
“I myself along with residents have met with representatives of the Premier’s office urging them to have a more coordinated approach … to make sure we get the balance right.
“People understand that we have a working harbour and that does come with noise, congestion and other impacts. But when we see something that’s going to be so intense and has come for many people out of the blue, that obviously raises red flags.”

Elizabeth Elenius is a long-term resident of the area and member of local community groups Glebe Island White Bay Community Liaison Group and Pyrmont Action. She says that Pyrmont residents have been misled by government and developers.
“You don’t surely think people make real estate decisions on what a government facing election might or might not promise? That would be foolish. What you do is you buy property on the basis of what’s in the documents relating to the land,” she told City Hub.

“I live in the building closest to the proposed facilities and when I bought it ten years ago Glebe Island was an active port. It always has been a port and will be a port for the foreseeable future.
“This will have an impact on me personally, but if people want peace and quiet they go and buy somewhere in Wahroonga or Turrumurra. Not beside a busy port.
“This is Sydney’s last deep water area. The island is also a facility for receiving gypsum and sugar and other essential goods. I don’t believe that anyone has the right to object to the facility per se and the best we can do will be to ensure that the conditions are very high standard and are monitored.”

Jamie Parker says part of the problem is that residents tend to get considered last.
“When these developments happen they’re of a very poor quality like we’ve seen with the White Bay cruise ship terminal. It’s had an incredible impact on resident’s health and amenity. It should be possible in 2018 to make an industrial facility on an island to have minimal impact and that’s what needs to happen.”
The Port Authority seems intent on such an outcome, with its Review of Environmental Factors surrounding the Glebe Island facility.
Submissions can be emailed or posted to Port Authority of NSW, PO Box 25 Millers Point NSW 2000.

Elizabeth Elenius says a member of her group will be suggesting a unique solution.
“It is that a condition be made that they line the rooftops of their (proposed) building with solar panels and have an electricity generating facility available to the ships and other industries around. It would give the community back something from an amenity they might feel they have lost. It would be environmentally an absolute landmark for the government and certainly my organization will be putting in a submission to that effect.”

Doof Warriors, Turning parties into protest

Here’s one from June 17th 1999, when I used to write for the City Hub newspaper in Sydney while on holidays from London, where I worked freelance for TNT magazine. It was a front page story.

In 1965 a group of infamous hippies called the Merry Pranksters embarked on an archetypal American odyssey in a purple bus that would later being immortalised in Tom Wolfe’s book ,’The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test’. Their mission was to take lots of drugs whilst expanding their consciousness and indeed that of the American nation then preoccupied with killing people in foreign countries in the name of preventing people from being killed in foreign countries

While not much has changed as far as America’s preoccupations go, the modem descendants of the pioneering Pranksters are alive and well and marauding aroundAustralia in their own bus. In their case its a graffiti drenched old state transit bus crewed by a gang of technoid doofers travelling under the banner of Ohms Not Bombs (ONB).

They’ve been staging impromptu dance parties at contentious environmental sites such as Goolongook (in the Gippsland forest), and the Jabiluka uranium mine camp and Timbarra. Indeed the bus has become a familiar site at protests and parties all over the country. Last time I saw them was at a Timbarra mine protest march in Sydney in February.

ONB trawled along Macquarie Street broadsiding doof beats from huge speakers poking out of the luggage bay like cannon from an eighteenth century galleon. Cops chaperoning the procession sniggered at the dB addled freaks. But in the austere offices of Parliament House the politicos must have thought they were about to undergo an alien invasion. And indeed the luminous techno travellers swarming around the bus and chanting fiercely might easily have been mistaken for stormtroopers spearheading a generations demands that deadly radioactive elements and cyanide mining by banned from their countries fragile ecosystems.

Pete Strong, an ONB stalwart, was aboard the bus. A platinum haired cheerful chap with an internationalists accent, he talks about ONB’s approach to protest politics.

Adding a Vibe

“Dancing is a good way of adding a different vibe to a protest. As you can see with Reclaim The Streets it’s a pretty unstoppable form of people power”. ONB is a collective of about twenty loosely knit individuals that evolved from an earlier mob known as the Vibe Tribe.

They were a hedonistic crew operating on the fringe of radical protest events, feeding on the zeitgeist and translating its energies into their wild trance acid beats and performing in a blaze of fluoro and dreadlocks and exotic piercings, riding the early waves of 90’s freak power.

Their illegal squat and street parties were attracting up to a thousand people at a time in the mid nineties they were attracting too much media and police interest and the collective split. Half of them went to Byron Bay and the other half stayed in Sydney and became ONB.

The ONB crew are no less radical, but they have pared back the energies and focused them on activism. They still attract a fair level of notoriety but Pete says it’s a cleaner act.

Going off on Guarana.

“With the Vibe Tribe there was a lot more drugs happening at the parties. Now we get more activists and its less drug oriented. I myself only have the odd joint these days. People are going off on herbal things like Guarana”.

Since doofing on the lawns of Parliament House through the 1995 protests against French testing in the Pacific, ONB have been cruising the country terrorising peaceful, uranium loving folk. Reactions to their brand of dance activism have been extreme.

“In ’95 there was a riot in Sydney Park when the police turned up to one of our events. We tried to negotiate to turn it down but they came in with dogs and batons and tried to carry off the generator and it became a full scale riot” (the writer of this article made a mistake accredited this Vibe Tribe event to Ohms Not Bombs)

Despite these wild scenes, ONB are definitely into NVA ( Non violent action).Pete espouses their credo.

ONB have been cruising the country terrorising peaceful, uranium loving folk


“We believe that people have gotta become autonomous, break away from the government. People have got to stand up against governments all over the world against militarism. Our aim is to form a convoy on the road that’s self sustaining, going on the road and making clothes and music.

“We’ve got sound systems, samplers, synths, drum machines, mixers. We run workshops as well. Kids in regional towns who have never come across this music before can come along and see how it’s done. We want to get more of that stuff happening, teaching people about the issues as well”.

He runs his own business making and selling techno clothing. Other people work in sound systems hire lighting and sound rigs”, says Pete, “some people work in clubs. I make my own electronic music with Organarchy Sound System crew. We just did a JJ mixup, mixing politics with the music, documentary style. You’ll have music, beats and loads of voice overs about an issue like Jabiluka. It’s like an alternative newscast”

ONB are based in a lot in Redfern known as the Graffiti Hall of Fame, it’s wall’s dominated by the spray can Da Vinci efforts of the local homies. It’s owned by Tony Spanos, a philanthropic businessman renowned for his generosity to community groups and fearless support of ONB’s activities.

Here they store the bus and sound systems and plan their tours. They have their own website and publish their own PR. Recently they put on ‘The Goodwill Festival’, an enormous dance weekend at the Warnervale Music Park on he central coast. Pete “The Goodwill Festival was a massive production, the techno stage was a huge spaceship that took hours to set up. This festival was the first time we’ve worked legally with the council and youth groups. It’s a big step for us, being accepted by the mainstream with our radical politics.”

Last year they packed their sound systems and techno baggage into the bus and embarked on a four month tour.

Soundtrack to Revolution

“We put on about 30 events all around the country from the cities to the desert right out near Alice Springs, the first open air Doof to be held at Uluru and right up to Darwin where we assisted the blockade at Jabiluka mine. On the big day of action where everybody got arrested with John Howard masks on we were playing Yothu Yindi’s “treaty” really loud as everyone got put in paddy wagons, so it was like the soundtrack to revolution.

“Next year we’re working towards a big convoy to head to Earthdream 2000, the Solstice. Everyone’s gonna get vehicles together and meet in Port Augusta in May and go all the way to Jabiluka via the red centre for a huge party that’s been talked about for about eight years in the international dance scene. We plan to have the internet on the bus so that we can do updates all the time and let the world know what’s going on out there.”

As you can see with Reclaim The Streets it’s a pretty unstoppable form of people power


The Pranksters’ brand of collective consciousness carousel might have run aground on the reef of ’70’s fashion-fiasco but right now saving the planet is definitely in fashion and ONB are riding that wave. Pete Strong reckons its a mutually beneficial fusion.

“The mixture of activism and dance party culture has been really positive y’know,’cos the dance party culture needed something to dance for, and the activists needed a bit for cavalry, the numbers you can get when you have a sound system somewhere


Frydenberg’s hubris hits a Trumpian scale

Published in the Fifth Estate 8/3/2018

There’s been an interesting exercise in prevarication from energy minister Josh Frydenberg in the AFR this week. He’s written a homily on the resilience of the energy market that recalls the gall of his former boss Tony Abbott.

The Greens cop enormous brickbats for Taking Credit for Things, but Frydenberg has taking this kind of hubris to a new level.

Given his party’s slavish underwriting of the obsolete fossil fuel industry, it takes a special kind of chutzpah to take credit for a rebounding energy market. But that’s exactly what Frydenberg has done in laying that wreath at prime minister Malcolm Turnbull’s feet, despite the PM being dragged screaming into the present only by events such as the closure of Liddell power station and SA premier Weatherill’s defiance in proving the viability of renewables.

Frydenberg casually attributes the newfound gravity in gas prices to Turnbull’s intervention in the market, a fiction that conveniently ignores the PM’s implicit approval of flagrant price gouging and distribution manipulation.

Turnbull has been happy to allow gas companies to market our natural resources overseas, without the distraction of paying taxes to ensure domestic wealth like those radical Norwegians.  Claiming to have salvaged 70 petajoules is a bit rich: having been belatedly reined in, gas companies are finally coming to account for charging Australians exorbitant rates to buy their own gas back.

For some time now Turnbull and Frydenberg have been attempting to bribe, coerce and strongarm the states into accepting the alleged inevitability of coal seam gas, such as was foisted onto an unsuspecting Queensland in the 1990s. That experiment was a morass of unbelievable high-level corruption, lies and disinformation from both industry and government, as claimed by whistleblower Simone Marsh, among others.

The energy minister’s claim that Queensland is doing the heavy lifting in the gas market is doubly exasperating; it assumes that the country, nay the planet, needs more emissions, a damaged Great Artesian Basin and yet another source of fossil fuel; secondly that Australians agree with the Coalitions views on CSG.

His blithe amnesia over environmental concerns about gas extraction only adds to an apparently portfolio-wide credibility deficit. In an era where the disruption of the Polar vortex is causing serious consternation among leading scientists, this is rather more than concerning in a federal minister than, say, the behaviour of Barnaby Joyce.

Concerning certainty and job creation from his pet projects, Frydenberg calls for an evidence-based approach; it’s hard to imagine better evidence of effective innovation than the Tesla battery experiment, hard to conceive of any more compelling proof of climate change than the apparently unfixable problem of the Earth’s air-conditioning. While jobs from renewables look to soon outstrip those in mining and lock in dispatchable power to the grid, the evidence for conventional energy investment seems to exist nowhere outside government white papers.

Well, we’ve dealt with the alleged volatility of South Australia’s energy market – as far as our business leaders are concerned it’s a done deal. In the shadow of that groundbreaking experiment we have a prime minister, lauded by Frydenberg for his “pipeline reforms”, looking for sneaky ways to fund the Adani mine.

But when such internationally renowned analysts as Jeremy Rifkin claim we’re on the brink of “the first new economic system that’s entered onto the world stage since capitalism and socialism”, when such trifling events as the Third Industrial Revolution and the fossil fuel industry becoming the “biggest bubble in history” are casting Frydenberg, Turnbull and their fellow coal enthusiasts in the same light as the inexhaustibly spurious Donald Trump; that’s when we can assume that aspirational opinion pieces like this one are the dying gasps of mouthpieces who prefer the charity of their political donors to the good graces of posterity.

Finding Safe Harbour

Published in the City Hub, 17/1/2018

Sydney Harbour’s reputation as one of the finest in the world owes everything to its superb geographical advantages. But a working harbour requires infrastructure, and from post-Invasion to post-reality, commercial shipping and recreational boaters depend upon the wharves and safe waterways that enable every aspect of maritime endeavour.

Ex-mayor of Leichardt and inner-West activist Maire Sheehan says that unhinged development is endangering the nuts and bolts infrastructure of Sydney’s working harbour, part of an agenda by successive state governments to gentrify the harbour into a purely tourism and residential amenity.
She says that this began with the staging of the Olympics in 2000, when pontoons and marinas were scattered around the harbour to facilitate wealthy visitors.

“Those pontoons were built for luxury super yachts whose owners were unlikely to be locals. The story at the time was that they’d be temporary but of course it’s not temporary, it’s permanent.”
Sheehan says that such creeping developments are marginalizing the essential services provided by established industries and pose a real risk to the continued viability of the working harbour.

Waterway Constructions in Rozelle Bay have been a part of that industry in Sydney for 25 years. They build and maintain wharf infrastructure around the harbour, as well as in other Australian ports. Employing 180 people around the country, they’re a vital part of the maritime community.
Mal Hiley, a founding director of the company, agrees that working wharves are vital to the functional capacity of the harbour.
“It’s an essential service and you need a location which is sufficiently close to the centre of the city for emergency response in the event that a ferry hits a wharf or whatever else. So there needs to be space for working harbour activities.”

Hiley says that government departments have generally been sympathetic to this requirement, but that it’s an ongoing task to ensure that vigilance.
“Development around the harbour is clearly reducing opportunities in the space for people like us, but we’ve been in consultation with the relevant government departments for many years and there would appear to be a good level of understanding of the requirements for waterfront contractors and working harbour activities. But there’s always a risk that people don’t fully appreciate the space that’s required, so there is a pressure and a concern. You can’t be complacent. It’s a question of being constantly vigilant and expressing our position.”

Sheehan says that the Urban Growth Development Corporation (UGDC), the group charged with ‘managing and securing the orderly economic development of five Growth Centres (including the Bays Precinct) across metropolitan Sydney’, has compounded risk.
The Bays Precinct comprises 5.5 kilometres of harbour frontage, including 95 hectares of mostly government-owned land and 94 hectares of waterways in Sydney Harbour.

UGDC’s online literature assures the public they’re carrying out their charter with all the highest environmental, public transport and business motives in mind.
Last year they instituted an online survey to canvas public opinion on the requirements for a responsible harbour development. They claimed the results would inform their impending ‘master plan’, but these have not yet been released and the website appears to be touting a well-formed and pre-approved vision for the future;
“The Bays Precinct will transform over the next 20 to 30 years into a bustling hub of enterprise, activity and beautiful spaces.”

Sheehan says UGDC’s vision for the Bays Precinct emphasises tourism and housing over the working harbour.
She’s been quoted as saying that the community have been finding UGDC’s data “inaccurate” and they’ve been left to make assumptions, such as whether or not there is a need for more schools and other facilities.
“What they talk about is turning the harbour into a tourist destination, a tech hub as the main focus and in various sites residential developments,” she told the City Hub. “They’re moving the fish markets to the head of the bay and their plan is for three or so residential towers there.
“It’s a shift from being a real working harbor, in terms of providing services, to becoming a recreational harbour.”

Sheehan says that community action is needed to support the work of industries such as Waterways, which are an integral part of the community infrastructure as well as the working harbour.
“Waterways has been part of the community for years. They have a respected apprenticeship programme and a history of collaborating with high schools in the area. They’re part of the community. They’re not an industry that blows in and blows out.
“Our working harbour has gradually been eroded. The last remaining parts of it are in Rozelle Bay, but they are the remnants of the old working harbour and Waterways are the longest standing.”

Concrete outcome in Glebe

Published in the City Hub 7/2/2018

Good news stories are rare when they mix a busy working harbour with a state government bent on constant profitable development. But the probable move of Hanson Concrete, a fifty year-old business based in Glebe, to the heavy industry facility on Glebe Island is a provisional win on many levels.It keeps the company, a significant local employer, in a viable location that cuts down operating costs and carbon emissions. That’s good for the environment, the community and the local economy.
But the onerous fact that all these factors were endangered by government-sponsored developments has raised the hackles of Sydney business leaders and Greens MP Jamie Parker.

Hanson Concrete submitted a proposal to move their premises to Glebe Island after their site on Bridge Road in Glebe was slated for redevelopment by the Urban Growth Corporation (UGC), the body charged with redeveloping Sydney’s urban landscape.
The UGC plan to build 2760 apartments on the site of Hanson’s current site, a development that could net them an estimated $5 billion in sales.

The initial problem with that move was the news that the Glebe Island facility too was in the sights of the UGC. Such prime waterfront property was a logical target for a corporation seeking to maximize tourism and residential amenity. But the potential damage to the viability of Sydney’s working harbour raised a public outcry.
UGC developments have already forced the migration of vital waterfront industries such as Waterways Construction, which build and maintain the wharves servicing the harbour.

Hanson Concrete supplies over a third of the vital building needs of Sydney’s CBD, in the middle of the biggest building boom since the 2000 Olympics. Its waterfront location means it’s close to customers, cutting down on road miles, fuel and its carbon footprint.
Before the Glebe Island option it seemed likely the company would have to move its operations to another port – be that Newcastle or Wollongong.

Such a move would have exponentially multiplied traffic on Sydney’s already strained road networks, as it’s estimated that a single ship-borne load of cement takes up to 2800 trucks off our roads.
If Hanson Concrete was forced to move to Wollongong it would incur significant extra costs in transporting material back to Sydney and be vulnerable to the serious issues plaguing the bottlenecked Port Kembla/Wollongong network.

A story in the Australian Financial Review featured a senior business figure calling the mooted closure of Glebe Island a ‘strategic disaster’ that would seriously impact on Sydney’s already overloaded roads and infrastructure.
Now Greens MP Jamie Parker has lashed out at the UGC for what he sees as purely profit-motivated development.

“Part of the problem with Urban Growth Corporation is that it’s the government’s glorified real estate agent and developer,” Parker told the City Hub.
“Their objective is to ensure that these areas that they call underdeveloped or in need of urban renewal are completed and the financial return to government is a major priority.
“What we say is they need to be looking at the needs of the city, the needs of employment, recreation and open space. The never ending search for profit from these sites needs to take a back seat to ensure that development or renewal of sites like this provide the kind of city that people want to live in, not just that profit can be made from.”

Parker said that the UGC’s planning is dictated by the needs of developers.
“Developers and the government are fetishizing residential development to the detriment of local jobs and environmental impacts,” he said. “While there’s always impacts on the community from working harbour activities, the environmental impact of trucking concrete across our roads to deliver concrete to building sites in the city is clearly undesirable.”

Parker insisted the NSW Government needs to work with local communities and councils to build an inner city community that isn’t focused purely on residential development.
“That means sensitive working harbour opportunities and retaining significant employers like Hanson where possible,” he said. “We’ve seen with Barangaroo where the cruise ship terminal was moved from its optimal location there to White Bay, to allow more and more retail and residential development. The cruise ship terminal at White Bay isn’t good for the local community or tourism.”

But while community involvement has staved off disaster in the working harbour, it seems constant vigilance is required to ensure good news into the future.
An Urban Growth Corporation spokesperson told the City Hub that Roads and Maritime Services and Hanson Cement are having commercial in-confidence discussions about the site Hanson occupies on Bridge Road, Glebe.
Hanson’s lease expires on 30 June 2018. Hanson have advised Roads and Maritime the company is exploring options to relocate from Blackwattle Bay as a result of the urban renewal of Bays Market District. One potential site they are considering is Glebe Island. The Department of Planning and Environment are the regulatory authority for development applications of this nature.


End of the line for Bronte bus

Published in the Sydney City Hub newspaper 14/2/2018

Bronte residents are fuming over a NSW Transport Department decision to axe their direct 378 beach-to-city bus service last year.

A petition begun by Bronte resident Gaby Naher, a literary agent who commutes daily to the city, has garnered over 550 signatures. It objects strenuously to the cancellation of the service, which leaves commuters with longer journeys fraught with dangerous interchanges.
The petition reads in part;
“Our children will no longer have a single bus trip to their schools in the inner city, our infirm will no longer have a single trip to St Vincent’s Hospital, our elderly will no longer have a single trip for shopping in the city and the convenience of being able to ride a single bus to work will for many of us be replaced by a lot of dead time at the Interchange.
“We call on our Local member, Bruce Notley-Smith, to reinstate Bronte’s own bus, the 378.”
Gaby Naher says that letters to the Department have been dismissive of her objections and those to local member Bruce Notley-Smith have been ignored. She said the decision has provoked anger and frustration from Bronte residents who foresee great difficulties and even tragedy in the wind.
“At the beginning of November my somewhat older neighbor spoke to me in some distress after hearing about changes to the bus service,” Naher told the City Hub. “I got on to the Transport NSW website and read about the changes and immediately called Notley-Smith’s office to say ‘it’s unacceptable to lose that public transport that has been operating since 1910’.
“The only reply I got was confirmation of the cancellation. I decided to start a petition in frustration because I thought if we didn’t act quickly changes would be made and there’d be no public outcry or discussion about it.”
Fellow Bronte resident Judy Ebner says the changes are ‘ridiculous’ and make her regular journeys dangerous.
“Since the buses have changed we have to catch the 379 bus, then to get the 440 to Broadway you have to change at Bondi Junction. However it’s not easy. You have to walk to the bus stop near the corner of Oxford St and Newland St. It’s a very dangerous crossing for the elderly or someone a bit slow going across. It’s a steep little hill up Newland Street to the lights at the intersection of Oxford St and of course cars are picking up speed, so the traffic is very fast and there’s going to be an accident one day there. I’ve seen some very close shaves.
“There’s also a lot of confusion on the part of tourists with the naming of 379. You see them get off on the corner of Bronte Rd and Birrell St and they think they’re somewhere near Bronte Beach, because it has the same number as the bus to North Bondi.
“It’s just crazy. Who has worked this out? Someone who’s sitting at a computer who doesn’t catch buses. To have two buses with two completely different destinations called the 379 is more than ridiculous.”
In response a spokesperson for Transport NSW said that last year it had altered some routes to ‘better reflect customer travel patterns and help improve the reliability of local services, including services to Bronte”.
Waverly Council estimates that there are between 75,000-80,000 people living in the 379 bus catchment area. It did not have a figure for how many people ride the buses, but Labor Councillor Paula Massella says she made this issue part of her election platform.
“I’m calling a meeting in the next couple of weeks of interested people who might want to join me in setting up a group to look at how we can bring back the 378,” she told the City Hub.
“Generally people are finding this new 379 service very unsatisfactory. There was huge demand for the 378 and it was extremely well used, as was the 440 when it went between Bondi and Bronte.”
Councillor Masella observed that the 440 service has been privatized and this could be seen as a worrying sign of the State government’s agenda to privatize other public transport services.
“If you have a look at the evidence you couldn’t be blamed if that’s what you thought. The 440 is part of Region 6 now and that’s part of the inner west Sydney privatization service. Also for example Transdev has been given $20million to run eleven trials, including one in the eastern suburbs for an on demand bus service, but there are issues with that because you can’t take prams on them.
“Why should people have to be pushed onto a private bus service and more to the point, why should people have to have twenty minutes added to their commute and be offered a service that’s inferior to what they had before?”
The Department of Transport spokesperson told City Hub that “the high frequency of bus services on Oxford Street, including routes 380, 333, 440, M40 and 352, ensures that transfer times at Bondi Junction are minimised. The decision by the NSW Government to put the contract to operate Region 6 bus services in Sydney’s Inner West out to competitive tender is not related to the delivery of services in any other areas.”
MP Bruce Notley-Smith told the City Hub;
“It is still early days for the new service, and I will continue to monitor its level of acceptance and reliability, and to alert the Minister for Transport to my constituents’ concerns.”
The Westconnex Direct Action group are organizing a public rally
to save NSW public transport. Interested parties can contact them on
0490 257 225.

How South Australia turned the Feds energy policy on its head

The Australian energy landscape has undergone seismic changes in recent years, none more critical than the Federal Coalition’s October 17 party room consensus to dismiss a Clean Energy target and instead adopt the euphemistically titled National Energy Guarantee (NEG).

Backed by the Coalition’s hard right wing and the science-free zone of One Nation, this fossil fuel-heavy policy positions the Coalition in opposition to the empirical wisdom of market forces.

Australian energy industry insiders beyond the coal market are now almost unanimous in touting renewables as the current and future inevitability in the field.

The NEG was pre-empted by South Australian Premier Jay Weatherill’s initiative in abandoning traditional electricity generation in favour of a 100 percent renewables target. This direct challenge to the energy market was also a gauntlet thrown down to the conservative political power base and the confected gas crisis that has seen Australian power prices surge so relentlessly.

Just as South Australia’s reliance on wind turbines has already shown a correlation with decreasing prices, Premier Weatherill’s gamble has turned the Feds energy policy on its head.

The NEG is based on the premise that only coal and gas can deliver reliable dispatchable power to the grid. It specifically requires retailers to include significant percentages of coal and gas in their mix, thus fixing its success to their rapidly diminishing market viability.

Coal is un-investable

James Wright of the Future Business Council puts that position into perspective;

“The marketplace is saying that coal is un-investable. Gas is still regarded as an investment option but in the time frame we have, pure economics will play out. Wind and solar coupled with storage and with the right market rules, purely on an economic basis will be the most effective way to introduce new generation into the network.”

Renewables surging

Meanwhile the infrastructure of the renewable economy is surging ahead, with wind farm installations increasing by 513 per cent nationwide, solar 118 per cent and electric and hybrid car sales over 150 per cent on average. Consumer preferences are at the root of this demand, constant technological advancements making low emissions products increasingly cost effective.

The Future Business Council puts the sustainable business boom on a par with the technology revolution of the 1970’s that gave us the Walkman, mobile phones and personal computers.

If the Turnbull government’s internal political compass is too skewed to read the future, South Australia’s Labour Government under Premier Weatherill has grasped the banner of change and run with it.

Weatherill has put his political future and reputation on the line by investing in a radical renewable infrastructure profile that is transforming the energy landscape in South Australia.

In the face of determined efforts by the Coalition to derail his plans Weatherill has put his political future and reputation on the line by investing in a radical renewable infrastructure profile that is transforming the energy landscape in South Australia.

His $650 million dollar gambit will be shored up by nine new diesel and gas generators, providing up to 276MW of energy to safeguard against power blackouts.

With his bottom line secured by these generators, Premier Weatherill has embarked on what’s perceived as edgier terrain with the two significant other planks of his energy initiative.

Soar thermal plant at Port Augusta – 700 jobs just to start

The flagship of his plan is a solar thermal plant to be built in Port Augusta. Symbolically, it replaces the obsolete coal fired plant retired last year.

This plant will, when completed be the biggest of its kind in the world, delivering 700 jobs and 495 gigawatt hours, or five percent of SA’s daily electricity needs. Construction on the emissions free plant begins next year.

Elon Musk making good on his promise 

Construction is also half way through the 100-day deadline given by Californian entrepeneur Elon Musk to build the world’s largest lithium-ion battery in Jamestown, 216 km north of Adelaide – failing which he says he will complete it for free.

Paired with a 99 turbine wind farm, the battery will power 30,000 homes in the district, also providing emergency power in the case of blackouts.

The half way construction point on September 30 came propitiously at the one year anniversary of the 2016 storms that destroyed SA’s energy infrastructure, provoking a tsunami of criticism to which Weatherill replied that Malcolm Turnbull, mired in apparent thrall to the fossil fuel industry, was an “unfit” Prime Minister.

Mr Weatherill told reporters in March that SA would; “lead our nation’s transformation to the next generation of renewable storage technologies and create an international reputation for hi-tech industries”.

He said the state must act now, rather than wait for policy changes in Canberra.

“The sorts of timelines and decisions that need to be taken are much more urgent,” he said.

After NSW endured heatwaves in February 2017 that created a load shedding event similar to SA’s 2016 disaster, popular opinion began to turn, with the realisation that NSW’s reliance on its coal fired power stations had not saved it from climactic disasters.

Weatherill’s energy “intervention” suddenly became accepted wisdom, taking his reputation from that of a  laughing stock to national leader in energy politics.

James Wright of the Future Business Council agrees with the SA Premier that he’s pioneered an inevitable shift in energy infrastructure.

All the states are going to move this way whether we like it or not

“The grid is moving to support higher renewable content and South Australia has been at the leading edge of that transition. Longer term all the states are going to move this way whether we like it or not really, that’s how the world’s changing and we need to be more overtly getting on that program.”

Wright posits the point Australia needs to get to in renewables as a triangulation of reliability, cost and reduced emissions that he calls the trilemma.

“One of the reports that we put out last year was called the Smart Grid and it recommended that our energy market move into the 21st century so it would better accommodate a higher proportion of renewables, but also be better placed to optimise the trilemma,” he said.

The spirit of his declaration is backed by energy giant AGL, the company whose decision to shut down the coal fired plant at Liddell in NSW by 2020 put the Coalition’s muddled energy policy into such stark focus.

At the time AGL CEO Andy Vesey had outlined specific plans to commit to a low emissions energy strategy, emphasizing that planned wind power plants in NSW and Queensland would provide the bulk of the energy to replace that supplied by Liddell.

As Turnbull desperately tried to convince AGL otherwise, investors provided the fiscal spine to this outlook with 95.45 per cent support for Vesey’s remuneration report.

OneSteel can do baseline energy thanks to Zen Energy

That trend has been further validated by the October 31 announcement that clean energy company Zen Energy is to power the OneSteel steelworks at Whyalla in SA with a $700m, solar, battery and pumped hydro project, confounding the notion that industrial grade baseline power is beyond the generational power of renewables.

As heavy industry moves into a low emissions phase, gas and coal production will constitute a significant headache for the NEG targets, rapidly eroding Australia’s commitments to meeting the Paris Agreements.

Engineer Graham Davies pointed out in the Fifth Estate in February 2017 that the cost of emissions is not considered in models that do not use an emissions pricing scheme, which puts into question the entire climate change responsibility of the NEG.

Cherrypicking parts of the Finkel Report to support the NEG has created anachronisms that will come back to haunt Malcolm Turnbull and only serve to further debilitate the market, according to James Wright;

“Some of the recommendations in the Finkel Review that have been endorsed by government are on an unnecessarily slow timetable,” he observed.

“A great example of that is the ‘five minute rule’. The generation price is set by the last piece of generation that goes into the network.

“It leads to is higher prices because effectively it’s being set by peak load gas-fired generation and secondly it makes it harder for new generators to connect to that market.

“The operators indicate that they will move to a five minute

rule but it will take a couple of years to do. So there’s still some market rules which, on a national level, are impacting both on costs, reliability, source of generation and level of investment in generation.”

AGL’s 2017 statement on its future direction frames the facts shaping Australia’s sustainable energy future.

It observed that the downward trend of pricing in wind and solar is likely to continue, that their operating costs are considerably below those of coal and their total costs remain competitive with both coal and gas. Interestingly, its transition arc from baseline coal to renewables will skip baseload gas.

It has stated that its closure of the Liddell coal fired plant and the planned closure of its two other plants at Bayswater and Loy Yang A are part of a planned transition to invest in grid scale renewables and storage.

Significantly, it also framed storage cost as the lead indicator in its strategy.

As seen with Elon Musk’s Telsa projects, battery technologies are becoming exponentially more efficient, but they are compromised by the pollutant-intense mining of heavy elements such as lithium for their manufacture. The disposal of waste batteries will remain a contentious environmental issue.

But if storage is the key to the future of energy systems, as Dr Alex Wonhas of global engineering and infrastructure advisors Aurecon points out, it requires a complex and nuanced strata of different components to create a reliable source of dispatchable power.

Wonhas points to the 2200 potential hydro storage locations across Australia, identified by an new ANU report claiming that if completed, they would provide 1000 times Australia’s energy needs.

“I think the significance of all these projects is they are all existing plants that are being expanded and that’s often a cheaper way of creating new and additional storage capacity,” he said.

“There are many other forms of storage especially in the built environment, so for example through intelligent building control you can also optimise the energy consumption of a building and therefore effectively use the thermal mass within a building as an energy store.

“And the same applies for the residential sector. For example I have signed up with an electricity retailer that not only provides me with my electricity but also operates my swimming pool and by basically having control over my swimming pool it effectively works as an energy storage device.

“I think the key to success in the future will be to identify all of those opportunities where we have natural storage reservoirs that can help us shift energies, from the time when it’s produced to the time it’s actually needed by consumers.

“The built environment will play a huge role, being one of the largest consumers of our electricity. There are interesting things that can be done through passive design to reduce energy consumption and actually makes it more amenable to the output profile of the renewable.

“If that gets coordinated across a whole precinct you can get significant amounts of storage that can help stabilize the electricity grid.”

Andy Chambers of Seed Consulting Services (overseeing many of SA’s large sustainable infrastructure projects) emphasises that changes in consumption patterns are equally as important in managing energy demand.

He observes that the SA government has funded an Energy Productivity Program to help large energy users find savings in demand rather than in consumption.

“Whenever equipment fires up and uses a large amount of energy it puts demand on to the electricity network,” he said.

“From a sustainability perspective, if you can reduce demand before you start looking at any other form of energy replacement that makes a lot of dollars and cents to people in business, so we’ve got big projects at the moment going around demand management and the decisions that find those demand savings.”

Chambers says that the SA government is encouraging businesses to provide analysis and initiative in tackling the state’s energy future.

“There are a large range of venture businesses undertaking energy audits to understand how they consume energy, what parts of the day they consume energy and how it aligns with the demand at the peak period of the day.

“So in that peak period when people go home and turn their air con on, whenever people can reduce that demand during that period then that’s going to result in savings for those businesses.”

Chambers maintains that a careful and clear-headed assessment of such nuanced variables will contribute to the long-term stability of a renewables energy market.

South Australia’s issues are a taste of what’s to come elsewhere

“What we have seen here in South Australia is probably a taste of what’s to come interstate. I mean, how do you value the security of your network? When you have an aged asset like the coal fired power station that’s been removed, then you need to replace that energy into your network.

“You’re going to see governments and industry looking at what presents the best cost-benefit in business investments. We’ve reached the stage where renewables are on a par with current costs around coal and looking at the projections they’re clearly going to get cheaper and cheaper. So getting in early with those investments enables the grid to have more security. Being ready for a high percentage of renewables I would have thought is more of a far sighted investment into the future rather than relying on coal, that clearly doesn’t have a space any more, when you look at where we’re at with climate change.

“There’s a responsibility factor for government that goes beyond the next election cycle. That has to be about investing in future benefits that are not tied into coal.”

James Wright points to the 2020 deadline AGL has named for the closure of the Liddell power plant as the crucial horizon for SA’s energy planning to take effect.

“The economic pendulum will have swung in favour of those renewable technologies in that time frame,” he said.

“I think we’re closer to the end than the start and it’s clear that the generation industry recognise where this is headed and that will become the accepted wisdom in that time horizon.

“In the medium term our reliance on gas as an electricity generation source will come off as well, when the economics aligned around solar coupled with storage and or pumped hydro (become) a reliable and cost effective way to add to our generation capacity.

“So there’s a number of alternatives that are economically compelling that would solve our trilemma, whilst reducing our reliance on fossil fuel.”

But as the Feds continue to pressure the states to increase coal and coal seam gas developments, embattled South Australia stands firm on its commitment to a wholesale embrace of a renewable energy-powered grid.

Even as the Coalition’s NEG attempts to starve renewables of oxygen, it would seem that a strategy which ignores market forces and factors out realistic emissions reductions is not a guarantee at all, but rather a forlorn political hope. Being inextricably tied with the party’s right wing and the fortunes of Tony Abbott, the success of a Coalition policy based mainly on coal seems about as likely as Abbott’s own desired return to power.

But while Premier Weatherill faces the political threat of Nick Xenephon’s challenge at next years SA elections, for now at least he seems to have provided the crucial leadership required in the vacuum of Federal energy policy.

Street Fighting Man

Published in Sydney’s Neighbourhood paper November 2017

Lanz Priestly was ‘the Mayor of Tent City’, the leader of the Martin Place occupation by the homeless of Sydney. He’s ready for the next battle.

Lanz Priestly’s office has one of the best views in Sydney. Sydney Harbour occupies the foreground, to the left the Coathanger and a massive cruise ship; to the right, the colliding shells of the Opera House.

There are no walls, windows or wi-fi, but it does have natural air-conditioning. Poised above Circular Quay it also has a view of the Sirius Building, which Priestly eyes speculatively from his berth beside the humming Cahill Expressway.

“We’re not necessarily looking at buildings as the solution that we’re gonna put on the table,” Priestly says of his plans for Sydney’s homeless, after their Tent City in Martin Place was shut down by the state government in August Correct.

“There’s a couple of ferries being made redundant, we’re making overtures about those. There are other wasted commercial spaces; car parks, train stations they’re so keen to sell off. But here we are discussing options and we’re looking straight at the Sirius building over there. I could take you there right now and show you entire streets of empty houses that are owned by the state government. There’s all this social housing and no explanation as to why we can’t use it.”

Priestly, dubbed ‘the Mayor of Tent City’ by the Daily Telegraph, is homeless himself; since Tent City was moved he’s chosen the Quay as his chief residence.

He received a lot of negative press after coming to public attention as a self-appointed leader of the homeless. The Australian newspaper published a story revealing his colourful past including violent criminal charges, jail time and allegations raised about his previous employment claims.

If some of his stories can seem far-fetched, the fact remains that he’s become a viable and radically creative advocate for the homeless in an environment that previously held little hope for change. The standoff at Tent City forced the NSW government and Sydney City Council into public dialogue about homelessness that elevated the issue –and Priestly, sometimes known as Priestley – into front page headlines.

While the NSW Government claims a record investment of $1.1 billion to tackle homelessness in its 2017/18 budget, the demand for homelessness services has risen by 30 percent in the past three years. Rental stress is affecting over 75 percent of lower income households in NSW, as NGOs scramble to cope. The terrible truth is many families, and older women with unsecure incomes are only one economic crack away from falling into life on the streets. Mostly people just try to get on with life and hope it won’t ever happen.

Priestly scoffs at the business models of major homelessness charities, part of what he scornfully calls ‘the poverty industry’. “The organisations involved are too endemically attached to the problem,” he says. “Their vested interest is to grow their businesses.”

He cites CEO sleep-outs designed to convince the heads of large corporates to donate more. “They’re supposed to be pretty hard-nosed businessmen but every year they’re told ‘the problem’s getting worse, so we need more funding’ and every year they buy it. Imagine if they ran their businesses like that.

“We need to hit the existing methodologies on the head,” Priestly says. “We need to say, ‘If the problem’s getting bigger, if we’re not looking for a zero problem solution then your solutions aren’t working.’”

‘The Office’, as Priestly calls the Circular Quay bench he sleeps on, has a power connection so he can charge his phone; the instrument with which he coordinates a not-for-profit 24/7 homelessness survival operation of (quote?) some influence and reach..

Back in March 2017 I spent my first day with him (at Tent City) (in the CBD – this prior to Tent City) and was astounded by the variety and breadth of his networks, the respect he was accorded by social workers, nuns and police. Today, months later, in the aftermath of the Martin Place occupation, he’s planning further autonomous solutions to a problem that no amount of money, NGOs or government bodies seem able to deal with. His methodologies are challenging perceptions about the nature of homelessness, the way problem is being handled and even the homeless themselves.

“On the Thursday night before we shut Tent City down there were 35 people that got up in the morning and went to work,” he says. “Over three days I counted 58% of the people living there worked full time.”

By contrast, the City of Sydney’s (most recent) registry survey for 2015 found that of 516 homeless people surveyed only nine per cent were employed.

But Priestly, a former construction project manager who still does maintenance work and organises teams of rough-sleeping furniture removalists, says the first misconception about the homeless is that they’re shiftless and lazy – the second being that they’re lost and lonely causes.

“In eight months we had over 800 people through Tent City. We had a churn rate of as high as 20 percent a week, so it wasn’t like people were settling in. A lot of them were people we’d never seen before. And they tend to be the people you get off the streets really quickly.

“They knew exactly where the cracks were that they fell through and guess what? They fixed it up themselves. They didn’t need any input from us. There was food, shelter, somewhere they could leave their things in safety. They had all those things in one place, which frees them up to go and get themselves out of the shit.  A lot of those people are coming back to help too.

“The reality is without Tent City or a replacement people simply don’t have anywhere to get these resources and help themselves.”

Priestly maintains that a sense of community was integral to the formation of Tent City and the ongoing activities he oversees. “There’s no committee, but people have shared concerns. I can’t possibly do all the stuff myself. If I put it out there; this is what needs to be done, people put their hands up.

“Even today, I’m sitting here talking but there’s furniture being moved to homes we’ve found (for homeless people). Two of the guys are couriers, one has a delivery business, they ring me and say where they are and ask what we have that needs picking up that can go to their next destination.

“By the time today’s over, since we shut Tent City down, we’ll have furnished 97 houses, as far north as Woy Woy, out Maroubra way, Campbelltown… On Sunday I did one in St Marys, another one in Revesby today, so it’s all over the place.”

In the wake of Tent City Priestly claims his community has housed 212 people while the Department of Housing found accommodations for about 136, but failed to create the sense of community that sustains viable living arrangements.

Organising community barbeques is one of the communal activities Priestly has instigated to help stabilize rehoused individuals and families. “The BBQs are just one part of it,” he says. “In some of the estates where there are a reasonable number of children we’re looking at breakfast programmes in conjunction with homework assistance for kids that have problems with school work. That’s not hard to put together.”

He cites the example of his own daughter, who he says lived for seven years on the streets alongside him while attending an elite private school. She now has, he says, her own family and manages a medical centre from home in the eastern suburbs.

Priestly is concerned that despite such success stories, any work he does is a temporary fix. “What we’re doing is dealing with (homelessness) after the fact. In order to stop it, we actually have to reach behind and turn off the tap. What we need to be looking at is taking housing out of the commodities basket.

“People would be shocked to hear me quoting Menzies but in his time as (Liberal) Prime Minister he took housing home ownership from 25 percent for people over 20 to 75 percent when he retired as PM and he did that all through social housing. Social housing, in his mode,l encouraged people to buy and Singapore liked his model so much that they copied it and their model today is one of the best in the world.

“Today I wonder just how different people who are renting are from people who are homeless.

“Most people who are renting don’t know whether they’re gonna be able to stay there for more than six months, whether they’ll have to move house at the whim of their landlord. Last time I did the math I worked out it cost about $4,000 every time you moved.”

“The power of the free market puts people in a position where they have to work two full time jobs just to keep themselves housed – that keeps people far too busy to engage in community, too busy to engage in their family. But if we want to fix the things that society finds problematic then we need to do it as a community.

“We need to get over the idea that getting government to do anything will ever work.”

Priestly’s ideas may be contentious; he’s accused by of inciting ‘class war’ and his latest passion is the Disrupt 2017 movement, which aims to create “media stunts and antics across Australia to expose the corporate profiteers abusing human and animal rights, creating war and destruction across the planet”.

But the facts are on his side. Funnily enough, so is Jenny Smith, CEO of the peak NGO body, Homelessness Australia – at least to an extent. Smith says that amidst wage stagnation and the massive inflation of capital city rents, many low-income earners are paying more than 50 percent of their income on housing, while one in every 85 Australians are now homeless.

“At the Federal level we’re not seeing the leadership that we need,” she told the Neighbourhood. “While the government is talking about the problem absolutely nothing is being done. There is still no plan and we still haven’t had any additional investment in housing or homelessness from the Federal government.”

A Family and Community Services (FACS) spokesperson told the Neighbourhood that claims that the NSW Government is not invested in reducing homelessness are inaccurate and unfair. In fact, the spokesperson emphasised the agency’s role in attempting to mitigate the problem, which was attributed to “domestic violence, unemployment, mental illness, family breakdown and drug and alcohol abuse”.

But an increase of 35 percent in homelessness services clients over the past four years in NSW does seem to underscore Smith and Priestly’s observations that external economic factors could well be the root cause, rather than the symptoms which FACS attributes it to.

Smith says that only fundamental policy change can shift this intractable issue. “It’s very clear the federal government needs to change its taxation settings in relation to capital gains tax and negative gearing. We treat investors better than we treat people on low incomes.”

She chuckles at the suggestion that autonomous movements can provide a solution. “Things like Tent City are protests and I don’t think anybody is proposing them as a viable alternative, but they bring to the public’s attention the inexorable fact that more and more people every day are finding themselves without a home. Just in the last year nationally 23,000 more came to our services looking for help. We’re turning away hundreds of people every day.”

Priestly, however, maintains NGOs are part of the problem.

“There’s a place called The Station (a government-funded drop-in centre) that barred me because of Tent City. The CEO said we were trying to undermine their business, but they shut at three in the afternoon and we were trying to provide all the services they don’t.”

Priestly is equally scathing about groups such as Bill Crews’ Exodus Foundation. “He originally set up in Ashfield as the destination to … suck up all the homeless out of the city. Didn’t work then and it’s not going to work now.

“We need something that’s a maximum of a ten-minute walk from the city circle railway stations. That transport link [is] absolutely vital. People who become destabilized and without a roof over their heads, a lot of those people have jobs that could be anywhere. The travel time added for most people to get to work is eliminated if we put it in the city.”

In the meantime, Priestly says there has been “zero meaningful engagement” from Council or government over the fate of the evictees from Tent City. “The level of engagement that we’ve seen is just them trying to ascertain what we’re up to,” he says.

Priestly claims he spoke to Clover Moore in person just prior to the forced eviction of Tent City. “She made a commitment to find (a permanent site for a homelessness community). No particular building or even a particular location was discussed,” he says of that meeting. “The opportunity to reach that point in those discussions was to a certain extent preempted by Berejiklian bringing in those laws with the speed she brought them in.

“Clover Moore then announced that the council would spend $100,000 and the state government also put up $100,000. In the wider scheme of things, $200,000 that’s catering to 100 people – how does that work? Where was she gonna put it? In a matchbox?”

That promise is yet to be fulfilled, while the homeless camp at Wentworth Park in Glebe is reportedly in imminent danger of being cleared out. Priestly says that this kind of uncertainty and prevarication is having an immediate impact on rough sleepers.

“There was an almost immediate increase in the number of homeless guys that have been bashed and robbed, including a guy who was hospitalized and nearly killed.

“One of the things I’m seeing is people really run down, just by virtue of having to carry their gear everywhere with them. It’s one of the important unseen things. I‘ve been on at [Sydney] Council for fifteen years to establish decent lockers, so that the guys can leave their gear there and go about doing things that enable them to get off the street. Doesn’t exist.”

In the absence of government action, Priestly says he has no option but to carry on with autonomous solutions. “Through social enterprise we’re now starting to see disruptive models emerging,” he says. “People in that space understand the concept of vanishing point models and that we should be setting up structures that have a vanishing point aim.”

He has specific ideas about what form this will take.

“There are people from some religious organisations I’m quite happy to work with. When we open our new centre there will be groups that helped out at Martin Place that will be part of that.

“The area we’re looking at is parts of Surry Hills that fit the picture. The building configurations there are more what we need. Not that we can’t fit into a skyscraper if we have to. We need outdoor space but it’s not hard to find a few metres of outdoor space in a high rise.”

In the meantime he’s getting on with a rigorous daily schedule.

“At the moment it’s very mundane. It’s about maintaining the guys that are on the street, it’s about getting furniture into houses. We’ve got nine vehicles running around today picking up furniture, taking it from those that don’t want it to people that do.”

Priestly consults his phone, a clear message that it’s time to wind up.

“Well, in two hours nothing’s gone wrong,” he says. “It’s usually people can’t find places, or washing machines can’t fit in buildings… there’s always something.

“At this stage we’re low key. We’re getting a footprint out there and everything we do is crowd sourced, y’know? So there’s an element of the community that is aware of what we’re doing and are supporting it. Let’s see what happens from there.”

“My end game is to go fishing,” he says, “problem solved. And I don’t have to do this anymore.”