Cablog

Walking Fear

Late last night a group of young women emerged from a Darling Harbour bar. All were blondes. For five minutes they chatted happily on the footpath, seemingly in no hurry to go home. Eventually one woman separated from the group and boarded my cab.

In a European accent she requested a Bondi hotel. I was surprised to see she was not young but middle-aged, and blessed with the Scandinavian genetics of beauty and fair skin. I asked what her accent was. ‘I’m from Sweden’, she replied.

My passenger was in Australia for three weeks, primarily to visit her daughter. It was her daughter and girlfriends whom she’d spent the evening with in Darling Harbour.

‘So your daughter lives here ?’, I asked. ‘Yes, she’s studying for one year but wants to stay. She really loves Australia’. ‘I understand, Sydney is a hard place to leave’. ‘People are so friendly here’, she said. ‘They say, "hello, how are you". It’s not like in Sweden’.

Whilst flattering, I found this hard to believe. If anything, Aussies have been criticised lately for deteriorating manners. However my passenger's next comment really piqued my interest. ‘And Sydney is so safe’, she continued. ‘My daughter and her friends are now walking around to find a restaurant. Back home this would be very dangerous’.

Unfortunately, before I could pursue this a traffic distraction on William Street killed the subject. So later at home I Googled, "Swedish women fear walking at night". Confirmation comes from Norwegian blogger, Fjordman,

In an online readers' poll from the newspaper Aftonbladet, 82% of the women expressed fear to go outside after dark.

Before you hit the quote link, try and guess what is causing women's fear in Sweden, and Norway...

Wet and Happy

Two big events occurred in Sydney last night, the annual short-film festival Tropfest and the Harbour Party, a warm-up for next weekends gay Mardi Gras. Both events were staged on either side of the city’s Botanic Gardens.

However due to the arrival of rain late in the evening both events were aborted. Didn’t matter to me though as this was perfect taxi weather with the rain arriving after each event had commenced. Selfish I know but it made for a profitable night.

A young Asian woman thought it ironic that since Tropfest became commercialised, it’s rained every year. Another young woman who worked for Sony, Tropfest’s sponsor, was naturally disappointed. She travelled home underwhelmed and sitting in wet clothes.

Another soaked and tousled doll, a beautiful lesbian in mini-shorts, retained admirable cheeriness, especially after I complied with her request for the heater. In last night’s humidity it almost killed me. As with the previous two, this girl also generously tipped.

Earlier, a young woman requested the Botanic Gardens. ‘You going to the gay party ?’, I asked. ‘No way !’, she exclaimed, ‘Do I look gay ?’. ‘I dunno’. ‘Anyway, my friend told me the Harbour Party is the craziest party of the year. They do the hardest drugs and really go wild ’, she said breathlessly. ‘Bullshit, they do that anytime’. ‘It is’, she insisted. ‘My friend told me so’.

‘Where you from ?’, I asked. Silence. ‘You’re from the country, right ?’. ‘No I’m not, I’m...’, and she hesitated, ‘I’m from Sydney’. ‘Bullshit’. ‘Well I’ve been here for two years...’. ‘Doesn’t matter’, I laughed, ‘where you from ?’. ‘Um, Adelaide’. ‘You’re a funny girl’, I told her. ‘You should go to the Mardi Gras next weekend, you’ll love it’. After promising me she would, she tipped then trotted off to Tropfest.

Later I quizzed a gay bloke from Melbourne leaving the Harbour Party. ‘Well, both parties are pretty wild’, he confirmed, ‘but tonight’s party is much better. The Mardi Gras party is too crowded. I went last year and spent the night in a conga line with my friends, for fear of losing each other. It’s ridiculous. I’m not going this year’.

Around midnight, three thirty something fellas outside the Oaks Hotel in Neutral Bay requested an address barely two streets away. Understandable given the rain. ‘Here’s twenty bucks’, said the front seat passenger, ‘I know it’s only a four dollar job but we didn’t think anyone would take us’. Impressed, I gave him ten dollars change claiming this was only fair.

Returning to the Hotel an Englishman travelled to Manly. He was here for a two week vacation and happily chatted all the way. After paying and tipping me he offered a handshake, ‘That’s the best taxi ride I’ve had all year’, he said. The previous evening an English girl from the same hotel had me take her back to her accomodation to collect her passport after being refused entry to the Oaks. ‘For fucks sake’, she laughed, ‘I’m almost twenty-eight !’. She too was here on a two week holiday, escaping an unusually harsh London winter.

In the early hours of the morning I carried a woman in her mid twenties from a Harbour side restaurant on the North Shore. Despite putting in a 17 hour day as manager, for no extra money, she was upbeat. On further questioning she revealed her family leased the establishment, hence no overtime pay. ‘It doesn’t matter’, she said, ‘I believe in karma. One day it’ll come back to me’. Despite not having enough cash for the fare, she found three gold coins for a tip and wished me a good night.

Another hospitality worker, a young American guy put in extra hours stocktaking at The Greenwood Hotel, North Sydney. He too was upbeat after a long shift, and consuming a few ‘staffies’. I dropped him at Manly around 1.30am. Both these two were awaking early this morning to attend university today. Whilst exhausted from working all day their cheerful dispositions were impressive. Ahh, the boundless energy of youth.

Finally, I pulled into the gas station after 2am. Whilst completing my paper-work with the door wide open, a huge German Shepard appeared next to me. The dog was beautifully groomed with extra long hair and obviously looking for a pat.

Having my hands full I whispered, ’Hey, mate..’. Taking a step forward, it carefully stretched it’s neck and licked my elbow, then disappeared. It was that sort of night.

Man Amongst Men

Yesterday afternoon I accepted a radio booking up to the Northern beaches. A fifty dollar fare is the ideal start to an evening shift.

I arrived at the address just as a fella around forty years old was locking his front door. However when he never arrived at the cab I looked to see what was holding him up. He was slowly making his way down the drive with a pronounced limp and gamey leg action, plus an ungainly arm and torso motion. I figured he’d either suffered a severe stroke or was born with the handicap.

Once aboard he presented heavily affected speech which took me a while to decipher. He struggled to deliver full sentences making for laboured and tortured speech. Notwithstanding this he was one smart cookie and proved to be an interesting conversationalist.

After a period discussing Sydney weather and bushfire patterns, I decided to quiz him on his work. However due to his condition it’s difficult to reproduce the discussion verbatim.

Basically, my passenger worked in a volunteer capacity as a spiritual counsellor in Sydney’s prisons. Working under the auspices of a non-denomination outfit he provided individual and group sessions to sexual assault offenders. Our discussion mainly dealt with three and a half day seminar/retreats he conducted alongside other volunteers and prison chaplains.

He was at pains to state the course and his guidance were presented in a non-confrontational manner. Prisoners could take it or leave it, it did not matter to him as conversion wasn’t his mission. Rather, he provided advice to those interested in or struggling with hardship.

I was curious to know - perhaps cynically - if undertaking the course contributed to a reduction in time-served for said participants. It was a marginal credit only and not enough to be deemed significant. He revealed a large percentage of participants joined the group purely because top class food was provided by his organisation. So good was the food even vegetarians suspended their diet to dine on the fine food.

However my passenger acknowledged it was easy to identify duplicitous participants as their insincerity was obvious to an experienced counsellor. In fact at the end of the course some readily admitted as much. Yet interestingly, others who nominated the food as their reason for joining, revealed they had also benefited from the exposure to the spirituality. They were genuinely surprised and felt better within themselves.

He made an interesting point regarding sex offenders. Some believed the mere act of accepting Jesus into their life was enough to absolve and cure their scourge. This was rubbish he insisted as much professional counselling was required before these offenders willingly acknowledged the severity of their condition.

After dropping my passenger I wondered about his role with the prisoners, over and above providing spiritual succour. What did his presence represent to them...

I gauged his difficulties with speech and mobility had a vivid impact, resulting in natural respect from participants. Furthermore, the acute contrast between what one saw and what one heard was inspirational. The sum total indicated an effective counsellor.

After spending time with such a man, I’d be very surprised if the prisoners weren’t in awe of his achievements and unique capabilities. I certainly was.

Sports Star

One of the pleasures of cab driving is the rare encounter with a passenger who stays in mind long after the trip. For all the right reasons.

Early in yesterday’s shift I accepted a radio job from a western suburbs Rehabilitation Centre. The job description directed me to the Spinal Unit. Great, I thought. Just my luck to carry a spinal injury patient recovering from an accident. They probably require an ambulance rather than my bone-shaking rattler.

However on entering the facility I was greeted by a young bloke in a wheelchair and cradleing a tennis racket. Cool, I thought. Not only can I drive at normal speed but his unique sports-chair indicated he was no ordinary ‘wheelie’. An interesting passenger, no less.

Gone are the days of clunky, heavy wheelchairs. Modern chairs now consist of lightweight alloys and quick-release wheels. This bloke’s sports-chair was a cut-down and hotted-up version featuring splayed wheels, minimal seat support and a dolly wheel in front. He was on-board within a minute and the chair de-wheeled on the back seat.

‘So you’re a tennis player ?’, I asked after heading off. ‘Well, I’ve only just started playing’, he bashfully admitted, ‘but I’m getting better. My coach reckons I can maybe make the London Olympics’. Wheelchair tennis is played on regular sized courts with the only difference being two bounces of the ball are allowed.

At 22 years of age my passenger revealed that champion wheelchair tennis players peak at around thirty years and beyond. His coach is an ex-Olympian wheelchair player so I figured the recommendation was sound.

With obvious pride the young fella revealed he also played rugby league in the Sydney wheelchair competition. Recently he’d received awards for the highest try and points scorer in the 2005 season. Additionally he’d represented Australia in basketball at the Helsinki Games, or maybe it was hockey which he also played.

'So you’ve obviously got superior eye-hand co-ordination to most other wheelies’, I suggested. ‘Why is that ?’. ‘Probably because I’ve been in a chair most of my life’, he replied, ‘compared to other guys who have accidents later in life’. Here he was referring to paraplegics, disabled from the waist down. I noted his frame, whilst fit and powerful, was smaller than that of most wheelchair sportsmen.

‘So what happened’, I asked, ‘you have an accident ?’. ‘Yeh, at four’, he replied. ‘I got hit by a truck’. ‘Mate, a truck’, I exclaimed. ‘You’re lucky to be alive !’. ‘Well it wasn’t a big truck’, he said, ‘More like that one up there’, and he pointed to a 4 tonne Pantech ahead in traffic. ‘The driver never stopped’, he continued, ‘but they got his number’.

He related this in a matter-of-fact manner with neither rancour nor bitterness. For him, it just was. Along with a gently disarming smile, the young fella exuded an aura of charm and tranquillity, the perfect tonic for a hardened cabbie.

‘But you know, I’m kinda lucky’, he continued, ‘cause most of my life this is what I’m used to. But for normal people who have accidents as adults, it’s much harder to get used to chairs. For me, it’s all I really know'. He fell silent for a bit as I negotiated a major roundabout, then quietly added, ‘It’s funny though. I can still remember swimming at the local pool when I was three or four’.

'So what's the plan’, I asked. ‘Are you going to concentrate on tennis or stay with team sports ?’. ‘Tennis definitely has more opportunities, with overseas travel and stuff’, he said. ‘Plus there’s a chance I might get some sponsorship. Well I hope to - it’s pretty expensive catching taxis to training’.

Here I thought to myself, if I was Kerry Packer - before he died that is - I’d immediately write the guy a six-figure sponsorship deal. Fuck it, make it seven. But unfortunately, all I could offer right then was a modest fare discount.

On departure I encouraged him to set up his own blog, given he was proficient in HTML. Plus I gave him my phone number for future bookings and fare alleviation. Jimmy, any-time mate. Meeting you was the highlight of my night. You're a star. Cheers, Adrian.

Lost Opportunity

On Saturday evening I carried around 30 fares whilst last night I carried some 20 fares. Standard stuff for a February weekend. The overwhelming majority of these fares were street hails with a smattering of radio and suburban rank jobs.

Not once did I work a supervised(Secure) rank, of which there are three in the City, on Friday and Saturday nights only. They close at one and two am respectively. In fact I can't remember the last time I worked a supervised rank. They represent a tiny, tiny, tiny, (there's a word for this but I'm too tired to work it out) proportion of a driver's work. So tiny, they're simply not on driver's radars and are of no consequence.

Today the NSW Government is announcing new safety measures for taxis. Have a guess what these wondrous reforms revolve around ? Supervised taxi ranks. Why ? Because the fare which recently killed a Sydney cabbie originated at a suburban taxi rank. Yet supervised ranks have never been demanded by cabbies. For us they're a non-issue.

Okay to be fair, these reforms also propose mandatory cab cameras. This is a sensible and overdue reform which I support. Additionally, the Government will review penalties for fare-evasion. Hopefully they'll reinstate the definition of fare-evasion to that of a crime, rather than a misdemeanour. Both measures important but incremental only.

Otherwise the emphasis of these safety reforms deal with the creation of 22 new Secure Taxi Ranks around NSW, with security guards employed to patrol them late at night,

Two guards would patrol each secure rank on Friday and Saturday nights, in the lead up to public holidays and during late-night shopping.

Big deal. How is this supposed to deter attacks on cabbies once the trip is in progress or completed ? Unless these guards register passenger names and taxi numbers, it's a useless measure designed purely to maintain order amongst the waiting passengers.

Is there anything in these safety reforms addressing a driver's door-lock modification, in order to negate the majority of attacks which come via this door ? Zilch. Anything about relocating the alarm button to the steering wheel, so it can be activated quickly and discreetly ? Zilch. Anything about ensuring GPS systems don't 'lose' cars ? Zilch.

Needless to say I'm very disappointed, as must anyone be who drives cabs. A golden opportunity has been lost to improve some crucial safety features required by drivers.

CCT Dog

Sydney's Cross City Tunnel deal is a dog. The public knows it, the Government knows it, as does the private consortium operater.

One Minister has been questioned in recent months by the Independent Commission Against Corruption. There are allegations he released confidential documents to the project consortium during the tender stage. ICAC is yet to rule on the matter.

Now comes an early report from a Government inquiry into the fiasco,

THE former Carr cabinet and the Roads and Traffic Authority receive stinging criticism from State Parliament's select committee investigating the Cross City Tunnel shambles.

The report is a slap-down former Premier Bob Carr's and his Cabinet Members who were up-to-their-neck in the project's approval. A slap-down from a Labor-dominated inquiry,

But MPs on the select committee have concluded that management of the Cross City Tunnel project was, if not a shambles, less than well handled.

While Mr Carr, ex-ministers and RTA bosses lauded the "up-front fee" of $96 million paid by the tunnel builders, the committee recommends that charging up-front fees be abandoned on all future projects.

Why would the Government of Australia's richest state be excited by an up-front fee ? Because their/our finances are a mess,

The committee has been persuaded by evidence that the RTA grabbed the up-front fee because it was in budget difficulties. But the payment was misguided because it led to a much higher toll for motorists plus more road closures to funnel traffic into the tunnel.

Which raises a fundamental question - to whom is the Road and Traffic Authority's(RTA) first obligation, the public or a private consortium ? From a submission tabled to the inquiry it would appear the RTA played favourites, at the public's expense.

John Oulsen was a member of a Community Liasion Group, established in accordance with the Conditions of Approval for the Tunnel's development. Oulsen wasn't impressed with the role of the RTA,

By becoming a proponent of the scheme the RTA are too concerned with protecting their own interests and those of the private  consortium, particularly where their funding is linked with use and traffic calculations become commercial in confidence. The quality of the design, consideration of traffic impacts outside of the project zone and the safety of the road is inevitably compromised.

As everyone knows, the CCT deal is a dog. All that remains is the burial service. 

Quickie

Here's a quick post as I'm really busy at the moment. Last week's Bulletin article called, War Fare has attracted three responses in this week's edition. One, the Letter of the Week, is a harrowing tale by an ex-cabbie. Worth a read.

In other media news Investigate editor James Morrow has resigned to take up a full-time position as an Op/Ed writer for The Australian. Not sure yet who's replacing him but next issue due in March.

Ethical Proposal ?

The Macquarie Bank proposes establishing a new wheelchair taxi fleet for disabled passengers. Mainly due to the State Government's inability to provide a workable fleet,

DISABLED passengers have long complained that they wait too long for taxis, and now an investment banker, Bill Moss, a trucking magnate, Lindsay Fox, and a former federal government minister, John Brown, want to do something about it.

The problem is drivers won’t sign up for WATs (wheelchair accessible taxis), for love nor money. Even with a subsidized plate lease of $1000 per annum. There’s simply better money available driving able-bodied passengers. As against the occasional wheelchair job which costs drivers money in the downtime required to service special bookings.

Personally I’d love to do such work but sadly, no one works for love. It’s purely a commercial decision. I say good luck to Mac Bank and its three proponents, Lindsay Fox, Bill Moss and John Brown. If anyone can structure a successful wheelchair taxi service they can.

This issue is the subject of a Government Taskforce, established in September 2004,

"It’s appalling that people who require a Wheelchair Accessible Taxi are left waiting for hours, or are unable to get a cab at all", said Minister Costa.

It’s also appalling that people who require a decent Wheelchair Accessible Taxi service are left waiting so long for concrete initiatives. Hence this Macquarie Bank proposal. However some in the taxi industry smell a rat,

Based on the kind of financial rewards that Macquarie Bank usually expects, it is unreal to think that the Bank and Linfox Transport will be going for big financial returns from Disabled Taxis. Is it not more likely that this is the first play by some very powerful vested interests who are intending to provide some very substantial new competition for the Taxi Industry - in every part of Australia ?

The imputation being, Macquarie Bank is using the disabled to muscle-in on the taxi industry. It would appear the opponents missed this line from the press announcement,

Mr Moss, the bank's head of banking and property, has the degenerative condition muscular dystrophy, which could eventually leave him wheelchair-bound.

Hopefully therefore, this proposal is motivated by more than simply money. Indeed, given Mac Bank's stupendous profitability one would like to think money is of a lesser consideration and rather altruism underpins their proposal. In much the same way the bank recently proposed an indigenous fund initiative for cash-strapped aborigines.

Regarding altruism, it's instructive to note Bill Moss is married to Irene Moss. She was Commissioner, Independent Commission Against Corruption from 1999 to 2004; and previous positions/roles include NSW Ombudsman, Magistrate, Federal Race Discrimination Commissioner, Chair of the National Breast Cancer Centre, Board Member of SBS and Power House Museum, and Chair of the National Inquiry into Racist Violence.

One of her final reports from ICAC developed a statement of business ethics,

...a guide to help NSW public sector organisations establish and maintain ethical business relationships with the private sector.

Therefore, is this proposal by Macquarie Bank a shining example of an ethical business relationship ? Putting something back into the community. If so, good luck to them.

UPDATE : Macquarie set to announce new fleet of luxury wheelchair taxis. Stand by...

UPDATE 2 : Nathan in Comments has alerted me to the fact Irene Moss is married to Allan Moss, CEO of Macquarie Bank, and not Bill Moss, the subject of this post who is Macquarie's head of banking and property.

Silver Lining

From Guyana comes news of a unusual cabbie murder,

A female taxi-driver died on Friday night after she was shot in the mouth by two carjackers who left her for dead on the Ogle Airstrip Road.

This is a story worth reading in full and includes a striking image of the victim. Speaking of striking images, here's one from last week's cabbie funeral in Sydney. 

Of late I've received lots of best wishes, both here and in the cab, especially from female passengers exhorting me to be careful. All of which demonstrates a heightened level of community concern and empathy for cabbies. Most reassuring.

Quick stat - taxis provide 175 million passengers journeys per year. This compares to approximately 270 million passenger CityRail journeys annually, putting in context the contribution of the taxi industry to the transport task in NSW.

Happy Valentine's Day - we luv yous all.

UPDATE : Cops nab six in taxi driver murder

Tele Shines

IN increasingly frantic Sydney, where everyone seems always to be in a hurry and where the fashionable view is that nothing is ever exactly as it should be, it's almost mandatory to be critical of cab drivers.

So kicks off a timely Editorial from Sydney's premier newspaper, The Daily Telegraph,

But any regular passenger will tell you that by and large Sydney cabbies are courteous, prepared to take whatever route you prefer and reasonably acquainted with the city landmarks.

The Editorial is right on the money here, expressing a view which is long overdue,

So it's unfair taxi drivers are treated with such ill-concealed contempt - unfair and possibly dangerous in that the prevalence of such an attitude may contribute to the rising tide of violent attacks on cabbies.

Now if only the politicians would come on board by legislating comparable judicial laws to those afforded other public transport workers. For example, taxi-fare evasion should be a crime, not a misdemeanour. And maliciously inflicting grievous bodily harm on a taxi driver should attract a penal sentence, rather than a pathetic community service order.

In the meantime, on behalf of all cabbies I extend my heartfelt thanks to the Telegraph Editor, David Penberthy for giving our safety issues the prominence they rightly deserve.