Three of our islands exist only in name because they have been sold by mysterious debtors. We demand to know: Where are our islands? And who got the money?
As conniptions continue in Greece regarding the sad reality that money is not “free”, more attention may be paid to some smart wonk’s idea about settling the issue by selling a few of the nation’s 6,000-or-so islands. We reckon at about $2,000 per square metre, the going rate for inner-Sydney crumbling industrial, Greece could shake off its 300-billion-euro debt by flogging an island of about 200 square kilometres. Or about one fortieth of Crete.
Interestingly, Sydney leads the way in such deals. We can’t say where the money went but it’s obvious some of our islands have been sold. The evidence is hard to ignore.
Example 1: Garden Island
The Royal Australian Navy parks its boats at a location somewhere north of Potts Point called “Garden Island”. But this “island” can be accessed from the Australian mainland using a non-amphibious car. Hence, Garden “Island” is not an island. There is no island there. It does not exist. Readers of Robert Hughes’ book The Fatal Shore, however, will recall there was once a Garden Island, accessible by row boat, somewhere near the tip of Potts Point. It was called “Garden” Island because there was a bloody garden on it. But it’s not there now. It has gone.
If Hughes says it was once there, but all observations made today show it to be absent, then a court of law might conclude it has been sold.
Example 2: Glebe Island
Many islands are linked to adjacent land masses by bridges, such as Singapore to Malaysia and Key West to Florida. Until 1998 the Sydney suburb of White Bay, on the Balmain Peninsula, was linked to Pyrmont by the “Glebe Island” Bridge, but in 1998 the bridge was renamed Anzac Bridge. Now, Sydney Outsider is not a place for conspiracy theories, but let’s just go over the facts as they stand: Glebe “Island” Bridge linked Pyrmont and White Bay. Can we see anything odd here? Can we perhaps see no mention of an island? In fact, if you drive or walk across what is now Anzac Bridge, is it at all possible to see an island nearby?
Don’t waste your time. There is no bloody Glebe Island. The bridge was renamed as a cover-up. The island’s gone. Possibly sold.
Example 3: Darling Island
Readers of The Sydney Morning Herald rely on it for well-grounded reporting and opinion, but the truth is that since Fairfax Media moved to Darling Island the newspaper has become “groundless”. How can this be so, you ask? Consider these facts: When the staff of The Herald go to work on Darling Island, there is no need for them to travel on boats. Also, they cannot swim there from Pyrmont. And, if they choose to walk to work, no matter how low the tide, there is no need for them to roll up their trousers, or lift their skirts, and wade there.
But if you arrive at the conclusion that this Darling “Island” must be connected to Australia by a bridge, you would be incorrect. There is no bridge. And the reason there is no bridge is because there is no bloody island. Because it was sold?
The truth always prevails, and until we learn what really happened to Garden, Glebe and Darling islands, we will not rest. So if you know anything, write a letter to a paper or something or phone a radio station. Cheers.