The Doust Files – 22/11/2011

Don’t you just love it when the tourist boats slip into Princess Royal Harbour, tie up and let their human cargo lose on our well prepared town awash with eager volunteers?
We know who they are, in their brightly coloured shirts, smiles at the ready, full of information about here, there and everywhere.
The town fills, all the shops scream “come to me”, bands play in the park, buses distribute folk all over town and the coffee shops fume with over-heating machinery.
It is, after all, only for a day and so we make a huge effort to ensure they leave saying things like: “What a town. The people are so friendly and there is so much going on. It must be exhausting to live there.”
But we know the truth, don’t we, because when they all leave, we sit back, exhausted, knowing full well that there is nothing else to do until the next boat comes in.
Oh yes, there was once a life here for those of us not prepared to cram into a tight spot in the night club, or brave the bar at a pub. Not that long ago we had a top notch hotel with a bar facing Ellen Cove and luxury rooms fit for our visiting friends, those with more money than sense.
Those were the days. And recently we had a great little venue down there, tucked into one corner of the Cove, where local musicians could play their hearts out while the rest of us tossed our bodies around like we never left the teen years.
You don’t need me to tell you – you know it’s going to get worse.
Eventually we’ll lose the pubs because alcohol will be banned from the centre of the city and deemed “not family friendly”. The next to go will be the shopping centres, which only encourage problem-shoppers, the churches because they only pray on the vulnerable, and the library because it houses books and look at the trouble they have caused over the centuries.
We’ll kick and scream and cry out and some idiot will hang socks but when it is all broken down we’ll realise that it’s probably all about something quite simple, like insurance.
The thing is, no-one can guarantee anyone’s safety, anywhere, anymore and the only way to stay alive is to not really live, but to hold out in your house, lock the doors, bolt the windows and if someone knocks, call the police.
The police, of course, will not come, unless your insurance policy covers public officials visiting your property.

2 thoughts on “The Doust Files – 22/11/2011

  1. I read your post with a little chuckle and I must say in part I agree with you and I also sympathies with the local shoppers. It can get very busy when there is a sheep ship, sorry, tourist ship in port and I can understand why the locals put on a big show for them, its just a pity that the local community dosnt do this every weekend for the locals too.. ? After all, we are the ones looking after them when there is no ship in port, maybe just a nice hello, how are you, when you enter the shop instead of a look of, give me your money and get out will ya…..?I must admit that I'm new to this fine town, only been here 4 yrs so I'm still getting used to it, but I do get the feeling that not getting any better …?I frequented Fremantle for quiet a few years and found the same feeling when the US ships enter port, like, move out the way, cant you see I'm trying to get as much money out of this guy, come back next week when they are gone, I might have time for you then …?

  2. Anon, find your community and you won't have to worry about the retailers because you'll have locals trying to give you fresh eggs, fish and spinach. Especially in November. Want some? We are all a little bit frustrated right now, but as an Albany wrinkly, I know the scene morphs all the time. Get involved and create it for yourselves. The cruiseboat cult will wear itself out soon.And the rule for pc behaviour in circumventing this most awful situation? I think you made it up Jon. Never ask permission. Shit, I think I can even hear the guitars playing, around the beach fire at Mids. Joy.

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