Chapter 4

I parked at the museum, beside the OB van, and went in. Matthew was organising the set, which didn’t take long with our morning preparation. Steve was in his official uniform and there had been a sign on the main door announcing that the museum was closed until five for a private function.

I used the toilets and then Ashley checked my make-up. I sat in my seat and looked through the list of questions that I was supposed to ask. Randall came in with his team and he placed them at the doors. He stood by the main door, and I went to join him, to wait for the Minister.

“This has been quite a day already, love.”

“It has, hasn’t it?”

“Are you going to skewer him now?”

“Not on air. We’ll keep it friendly for twenty-five minutes, then we’re turning off the camera and I’m going to have a nice little chat with him. Hopefully, it will give us some of the real story.”

“You really are good at this. That last question of yours rattled him.”

“I know, and he knows that I know. If he’d been telling the truth, today, we wouldn’t be getting this interview. He’d be flying back home instead of coming along the road.”

We stood in place and the car stopped. It was only the Minister that got out. I went forward to greet him.

“Thank you for coming, Minister. The interview is planned for twenty-five minutes and will be sent from that OB van to Ultimo, to be shown tonight, after the news. It will be advertised in the hour or so before the news, which will, of course, include a repeat of your announcement. This fine gentleman is my husband, Randall, and is here in his official capacity as a Detective Inspector. His team are scattered around to ensure our privacy.”

“It’s a pleasure, Carol. I’m happy to meet you, Randall. Except for the interview, Carol, you can call me Algy.”

“Thank you, sir, Algy. Was your father called Biggles by his friends?”

He laughed.

“We’re a family of pilots, Carol. That sort of thing goes with the territory.”

I led him into the museum and to where we had the set ready. He was sat in the chair we wanted, and our sound man clipped small mics to us, and the Minister was given a bit of powder so that he didn’t shine under the lights. We passed the time of day and then everything was ready. Matthew confirmed the link to Sydney, and we started the interview.

“Thank you for joining us for this interview with the Minister of Defense, the Right Honourable Algernon Wallace. Thank you for speaking to us, Minister.”

“It’s a pleasure, Carol.”

“You would have been here before, wouldn’t you. Didn’t your grandfather fly one of these Grumman Trackers from the Melbourne?”

“He did. Yes I have been here, with him, when I was eight. He also took me to Shellharbour, and I had a flight in one, with him in the second seat. Boy was that noisy. Those two big radial engines are loud!”

“With him flying for the Navy, and your father flying the F-111, it’s no wonder you ended up in FA-18s. That must have been exciting.”

“The best job in the world, although what I do now has more responsibility.”

“Yes, your job. I have a list of questions which the ABC want me to ask you. Please feel free to answer as fully as you like, we have a big segment to fill.”

I smiled and then started the questions. He was now in a pleasant mood and answered them, sometimes fuller than I would have expected. Matthew had started a clock and held it up as we approached the allotted time, so I thanked the Minister for his frank and honest discussion and wound up the show. Bernie took care to close up his camera and Steve came over with mugs of tea, having found out from the driver how the Minister took his. The crew started sorting things out and carry them away, leaving the two of us.

“Tell me, Algy. How hard was it to convince those ‘bean counters’ that this wasn’t the right place for the F-35s?”

He looked at me and then started to laugh.

“Didn’t fool you for a minute, did I?”

“No, Algy. Even my husband thought that there was a lot of BS back there at the terminal. Never murder anyone, you won’t get past the first grilling.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I think that the idea may well have been thought up by those dastardly bean counters. Come here and build a few hangars and lay down a couple of hardstands, fly the F-35s down to make room for something else at Williamstown. Then either sell off the planes to someone friendly, or even keep some flying from here.”

“What do you think we would replace them with?”

“The new Eurofighter, in the fighter-bomber version, would be good. It can carry stand-off bombs. I don’t think that the general public would be happy with us buying American again.”

He laughed again.

“Are you that fly on the wall in our meetings?”

“That has been suggested by someone else.”

“Look, Carol. I’ll come clean with you, rather than pussyfoot around the subject. I see that those remote cameras haven’t been taken away, and our microphones are still in place. Do I have your word and that of your management that this ‘post interview’ chat isn’t broadcast.”

“You have our word, Algy. We had most of it at the time I did that segment. We just want to stay ahead of the commercials with this, so that we’re at the right place and the right time.”

“All right. The planes were to come here to be prepared for another country to take some. Now, they will be heading for Amberley in Queensland. Probably replacing the even older Hornets for a while. We are thinking about the EU route, but it hasn’t been finalised. Your segment threw a spanner in the works in that it brought Nowra into discussions at Cabinet level and questions were asked before things got out of hand. You’re perfectly right, today I made an announcement which was more spin than considered planning, to avoid the scrutiny that going ahead with the original plans would have brought us.”

“It will give you a lot of brownie points when we get the second airline, especially if one will take us directly around the country without needing to go to Sydney. I don’t think that the commercials have any inkling of the back story, so you’re pretty safe.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll just carry on doing my job. That reminds me. We’re in the perfect place to ask you this question. Did your grandfather get mad when they sold the Melbourne to the Chinese?”

“Did he ever. Called the government every name under the sun, so Dad told me. It was almost treason as far as he and his mates were concerned.”

“I’ve been told that selling off the flagship of the Navy has lowered the overall morale to the lowest point ever, and it hasn’t risen much since. I’m sure that it’s not only the public who think that staying with AUKUS was a stupid waste of money. We could have built another pair of light carriers with that money. Ships that can carry hundreds, if not thousands, of long-distance drones and even have a small flight of those new fighters. It would be an interesting way of us showing the world that we still mean business. That we’re still a force to be reckoned with.”

“It takes ten years to build a carrier. It took China twenty years after examining the Melbourne to build their first and have taken about ten years to build each subsequent one. There aren’t any older ones that we can buy. Everyone scraps them now, especially the nuclear-powered ones.”

“It still leaves us underpowered as far as warships go. You can build as many patrol boats as you like, but they wouldn’t last five minutes in a war.”

“I fully agree, but we have to work to a budget, unless we do what America has done and go so deeply into debt that we will never repay it. Look, I like the way you’re thinking. You have a grasp of the real world and how history alters the future. Give me your card and I’ll see about getting you into a think tank or something. What’s next on your agenda?”

“A story on the Melbourne, warts and all. The jinxed ship that was once the flagship of a proud navy. Then, we’re doing a series on volunteers and famous people from here to the border, something to run as a series over winter.”

“I’m sure that something else will come up to keep you in the news cycle. If there’s anything that I can give you, I’ll call Sir Edward.”

“Thank you, Algy. I have to say that I’m impressed with the way that you’ve kept to your guns when surrounded by fools. Although today wasn’t one of your high points.”

He laughed and stood, leaving the microphone on the table. Bernie was winding up the cables to the remotes. I walked the Minister to his car, Randall on his other side. He shook Randalls’ hand and gave me a light hug.

“Today has been brilliant. I’ve met two people who are solid citizens and worthy of being noted.”

He got into the car and the driver closed the door, then got in and drove him away.

“I wonder who he was talking about, love.”

“Beats me, Carol. There must have been someone on the base before he came here.”

I turned my phone on to see that I had a number of missed calls and several texts. The latest one just told me to be at Ultimo at eleven the next day.

“You sort your team out, love. I’ve got to go and book a flight to Sydney in the morning. I’ll pick up Pauline on the way home if you get some take-away. Pizza would be good as we can reheat that if needed.”

“OK. I need to go and report to the boss. He probably watched the announcement but will need my input. See you at home.”

I went inside and gave my mic to the sound man. Matthew said that he had been called to head office in the morning and I showed him my own text.

“Looks like we stirred a hornets’ nest, Carol. Wonder what they want to talk about?”

“Maybe it’s just a pat on the back. I’ll see you there.”

My face was given a wipe, and I used the toilet before having a hug and a thank you from Steve. I drove to the terminal and booked my flight after being waylaid by the airline manager who was effusive in his praise of how my small segment had created such a big result.

When I picked up Pauline, I was pulled into her friends’ house and given a drink. The mother had recorded the announcement and the girls had watched it more than once. I had to pose for a selfie with her friend and her mother before we could get away. At home, Pauline checked that the recorder was still going and stopped it. I went and took the dress off and hung it up, then fully undressed to have a shower.

When Randall arrived with a couple of boxes of our favourite pizzas, we sat outside in the evening sun and took our time eating. Pauline was the one to break the quiet.

“Mummy. Were you worried by all that you did today. You did, after all, speak to our Federal member of parliament and the Minister of Defence. They are two powerful men.”

“I did have a few moments where I wondered if it would all be right, I admit. It was the same before I started the first song of a party when I was a DJ. You can plan all you like but you never know what’s around the corner. Those powerful men are just men in important positions, like your Dad. They’ve been kids, teenagers and gone through school, just like you. If they’re good people at heart, they’ll treat you as well as they are treated. I didn’t try to trip them up, like some other reporters, and they appreciate that and return the kindness.”

We tidied up and went inside to watch the interview. It was odd to be sitting on the sofa, cuddled by my husband and daughter, while seeing myself on the screen. Pauline had the recorder going again. At the end of the credits, she got up to turn it off and then faced us.

“Mummy. When you said that they were just like us, it didn’t sink in until he spoke about being in that spot aged eight. Did you guess that he would have been there?”

“His grandfather flew Trackers, dear. It was entirely possible that he would have taken a young Algy to see one.”

“Algy!”

“Yes, we’re on a first name basis. Under all that red tape, he’s a thoroughly nice man. I expect that if I carry on doing what I’m doing now, we’ll be meeting again.”

Randall snorted.

“Pauline. Your Mummy and the Minister had a talk after that interview. They had what is called a frank discussion and she promised to not report some of the things they spoke about. She has to go to Sydney, tomorrow, to make sure that the ABC keeps that promise, as it does give them the lead in things that may happen a year, or more, into the future. Expect to see more of her on that screen. What I saw, today, showed me that she deserves to be there. Now, did you do your homework at your friends’ house?”

She grinned and went off to her room and her books. Randall cuddled closer.

“Can you grill me later. Just don’t ask what I was doing when I was eight.”

“All right, my darling. I think I know what you were doing as a teenager, and the fact that you can still see proves that the saying is wrong.”

The next day, I was back in the meeting room in Sydney. When I arrived, Emily gave me a strong hug.

“Yesterday was fantastic, Carol. You did everything that you could do to get the best out of the Minister, yet he left in a good frame of mind, unlike some interviews I’ve seen.”

“It was a busy day, Emily. We watched the show last night and I felt as if I was watching someone else.”

“You are someone else when you interview. That’s one of the things we want to talk about.”

The meeting went until lunch and covered a lot of ground. The upshot was that we were given the green light for the Melbourne story, with permission to include interviews with retired Naval officers. We also had a good budget allocated for the summer trip to produce a series of visits and interviews to be shown as a series during next year. We were also congratulated on what we had done yesterday, and the way we had done it. I was told that nothing of the later talk would be made public, and that it was expected that the Government may be the ones to contact us when they had something to say.

Matthew took me to a restaurant for a meal, where I was recognised by the owner and had to pose with her for pictures. Matthew went back to his office to start working on what we now knew were expected shows, and I went back home. As we flew south, I thought about the concept of home. I had lived in Colchester for twenty-odd years, in Mildenhall for four, Chelmsford for another four, and now Nowra for ten. I was middle-aged and starting yet another career. It seemed to be something out of a fairy tale.

For me, Nowra was my home. It had shown me welcome, it had given me a wonderful life and, if I needed to give it something back, I was ready for that responsibility. When I went to pick up Pauline, I was surrounded by kids who wanted pictures with me. Pauline thought that it was all great fun. I let them have their fun, as their exams were starting in a couple of weeks. Soon, I’ll be on the road for the first time as a presenter of a show, with Pauline beside me to soak up real life with real people. I just hoped that she would learn from the experience.

Over the next weeks, I spent some of the days in the homes of retired officers. The thing about the Melbourne being the flagship was that the commanding officer was changed every eighteen months or so, leading to a lot of men, still alive, who had been on that bridge. We ended up with a dozen short interviews, mostly saying the same thing. That they had pride in what they had been doing, even though the carrier had never been in an active zone. It had been an emblem of our navy, and, as that emblem, had done its job.

With the old films on file, and some unseen footage that Algy had supplied, when asked, we put together a one-hour documentary. It showed the history of the carrier, from the time its keel was laid in Britain during the second world war, its launch as HMS Majestic, then through its good and bad days. It had been the recipient of a couple of unwanted names. ‘Jinx Ship’ being one after she had cut two other ships in half during exercises. She was the subject of the only time two Royal Commissions had been called for the same incident but came out of it all smelling like roses. The credits rolled over the picture of her being towed to China, with me narrating the amount of things that were still operational. My final words, before the screen faded were pointed.

“After the Melbourne was decommissioned in 1982, our Navy did not have a flagship until 2015, when the HMAS Canberra, a helicopter carrier, was commissioned and deemed big enough to carry the flag. In between, several ships served as de facto flagships, including amphibious troop ships and even a fleet oiler. It’s no wonder that morale in our navy dropped to such a low point, and no wonder that it’s still difficult to recruit new seamen.”

We finished all the editing in the Wollongong office and had a screening for Ultimo. At the end of it, there was silence and I wondered if we’d gone too far. Then, Sir Edwin clapped, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the other executives applauded. Sir Edwin stood up.

“That, my friends, is reporting in the way it used to be, back when I was reading the news. It’s a gathering of known facts and a sprinkling of understanding of the human psyche. I remember the time that Chinese warships sailed around the country. We didn’t know that they were doing live-fire drills until an airline pilot flying from New Zealand told us. All we could do was overfly them. We had nothing ready to shadow them. That was a disgrace that was brushed under the carpet at the time. I think that it would be a good show as a special report in mid-December. First, though, we need to show it to the government in private. I can’t see anything there that they can complain about.”

A week later, Matthew and I were in a theatre room in the Canberra Parliament with most of the Cabinet and several uniformed Naval Officers. They all sat, quietly, as the show unfolded. When it had finished, there was, once more, silence. Then the PM spoke.

“Why am I only learning this now?”

The Treasurer answered.

“The situation was all about budgets, sir. It took thirty years to get something impressive enough to replace the Melbourne.”

“That final statement says more than that, my friends. It says that the governments didn’t care about protecting our waters since the eighties. It tells me, better than the reports that I get from the military, that we’re dangerously vulnerable. We can blame the previous governments all we like, but nothing, I repeat, nothing has been done to give us a long-range capability. The Canberra and Adelaide are now approaching their own service mid-life, yet we have no plans to do something meaningful. Come back to me with ideas in the new year. Now, Carol and Matthew, follow me to my office.”

We followed him out, with his secretary behind us, and were taken to his plush office and sat with drinks.

“Now, you two. In the space of a few months, you have exposed ill-conceived plans to relocate our aging fighters to Nowra. You have highlighted the Jervis Bay Territory, and my Minister of Defense has briefed me on what really happened when he visited you. This show has highlighted serious failings of a number of PMs. I’m told that it will be shown in a week or so. I’m happy to give my permission, as there’s nothing there that can be seen as fabricated. I’ll want you back here, sometime in the future, to conduct an interview which will be aired after I give an announcement. I can’t tell you what that announcement will be, because I don’t even know that yet. It’s up to what the others come up with.”

I smiled at him.

“We will, of course, sir, stay quiet about that until you’re ready. We have a small crew, and discretion is our middle name.”

“Quite so. You and your crew have impressed me and several of this building, with your insight and methods of reporting. Sir Edward told me that you were like the best of the old guard, before reporters relied on what they were fed by the internet and our own press releases, following them slavishly as gospel. You don’t follow, young Carol, you lead.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m happy that you see it that way.”

“I didn’t say that I was happy. What you’re doing is giving me more to think about, and more that I have to get my staff to tell me. It’s made my life busier, but I’m starting to think that I’ve allowed the others too much rope. If that fighter plan had gone any further, our chance of re-election would have been slimmer.”

“I would have said marginal, sir.”

“Just so. Now, you go home and carry on. I wish you a happy Christmas and Festive Season.”

“Thank you, sir. The same to you and yours.”

Matthew was quiet on the short flight back to Wollongong, where I’d left my car.

“Penny for them, Matt.”

“I was thinking through our plans for the series. The schools are out in the middle of December, so we can get a couple in before the break, if we hit Ulladulla and Batemans Bay before then, we can spend a month in January to do the rest. I don’t expect much from the PM before February.”

“That would be good. I can take Pauline and make a holiday of it. There’ll be a BBQ at my place on Christmas Eve and New Year Eve, with a lot of Randalls’ team and partners. I expect Bernie may drop in. You’re invited with your family if you want to come. Let me know and I’ll make up beds in the spare rooms.”

“Thank you, Carol. If we keep it going the way we started, it’s going to be another interesting year.”

It all worked as planned. Pauline took a few days winding down from her last year in primary. In February, she would be going to high school and there was a school bus that she would be taking, now that she was a ‘big girl’. The documentary was shown on the Sunday evening, and we met up with the crew on the Monday morning, bags in the back of the GT.

We filmed what would be the signature opening to the series. I was filmed walking to the car and opening the door. I turned to the camera.

“Today, I’m leaving Nowra and driving to Ulladulla, down the coast. There I’m going to meet our local reporter, and he is going to introduce me to a couple of interesting people. My daughter, Pauline, will be keeping me company.”

I got into the car and started it up, with its particular growl. I pulled out and drove it down the road until I was out of sight, then pulled over and we waited for the crew to pack up and catch up with us. This trip, they were using a minibus and I followed them south.

That afternoon, we got most of the first show into the can, with a talk with our local guy who told us about the town and its story, then we went off to one of our interviews, on the mans’ patio. He was a retired Cabinet Member and was very interesting.

We stayed in the local hotel and filmed my opening, where we repeated the previous one but saying that I was leaving Ulladulla and going to Batemans Bay. Then we had a second interview with another Ulladulla person, a woman who was almost running the place.

Over the next couple of days, we tidied up Batemans Bay and filmed us leaving there to go to Bermagui. We would drive directly there to start the next shows.

Back home, we made the house ready for the festive season and I filled a freezer full of meat and a fridge full of drinks. Pauline and I did our gift shopping, and we were ready for the parties. We had a lot of guests on both occasions and had a lot of fun. For New Year, we had over thirty in the garden, including our neighbours. A few days later, I was following the minibus south, to tidy up the series, Pauline beside me, singing along with the CD she had slipped into the player.

This year was going to be different. I had a daughter who had almost become an adult over the last month, someone who was now a friend and partner in the project. She had been included in a couple of the interviews, interacting with our subjects’ grandchildren, and was likely to see herself on the TV over the series. Matthew had reviewed what we had done, already, and had told me that she was a natural, as long as she didn’t know that she was being filmed.

Marianne Gregory © 2026