waterfront development

This morning, after reflecting for some time about citizens as pawns, I am considering developments on the Newcastle city foreshore in recent decades. 

In the 1960s and for decades prior, Newcastle was a hub of shipping activities. Locally made steel products, mined coal, grain and wool were shipped off while the supploes mecessary to supply those industries and its workers, were brought in. Most ships for general cargo carrying were beautiful; curved sheerlines, chimneys chuffing steam and smoke, gantry cranes swaying above the heads of wharfies and truck drivers, tanned and ripped. It was a bustling hub for workers and people alike. 

Then it fell into decline, except the coal exports. Those colliers grew in scale to just fit through the Panama Canal and the harbour entrance had to deepened by blasting and dredging over many years as the remainder of the foreshore fell into a derelict state. 

This is a guarded photo from 1985. Its really the city, to the right and behind the camera were rusty monoliths of dying industries and unused lots where decaying machinery rotted away in long grass. Truth be told, the entire environment was toxic. But the rats thrived! When I was living aboard at a rickety timber wharf on my new built sailboat, I would walk along the south shore of the harbour until I reached the entrance where I would check the sea conditions and visualise myself out sailing. That was lovely, but the walk was treacherous; jagged rocks and rubble heaps, bits of metal poking from the ground and rats who thought they owned the place darted about. The only humans were a motley lot of fisherman who had attitude problems and I knew had long rusty blades to hand. 

Fast forward to the 2000s and you'll see even the break walls have been redone. "High density" housing that the once vast rat population could never aspire to, moved in. Paying squillions, the new inhabitants are largely unseen; no washing off the verandah, no mismatched deck furniture, just sporty cars with dark windows emerging from dark, damp underground carparks. Somehow, I guess they feel fortunate, having benefitted from heavy government incentives to wealthy developers and construction companies. 

But they're often fooled. As stages of development progress, a thin souless highrise is populated by faceless minions with views across bare "parkland to the water (and other high rise) the government having cleaned out the worst of the sites of old industry including importing dozens of aged palm trees along the shore. Literal window dressing.

Then as the soulless minions are working long hours, scamming and scheming to whittle away their mortgages, earthmoving equipment moves onto the waterfront parkland. Over coming months, years, a twin tower is constructed, polished up and sold off to another pack of Faceless Minions who now boast superior water views. The population of the " Stage One" development have views of cement up close and the sunlight gives way to cold winds whistling through damp cement corridors. Meanwhile, the developers are drawing plans for Stage 3. 

Fair winds sailors.