An
unsuccessful campaign Bowditch
fought was against the use of
Quail Island , near Darwin,
as an RAAF bombing range . Some people came to him seeking his help to stop the bombing. Reporter Les Wilson went to
the island and filed a story. The
island has a Dreamtime spring
and is a turtle breeding ground
. The campaign was a long one , but the Federal Government and the RAAF refused to budge
Bowditch revived the issue in an editorial once again mentioning the Dreamtime spring and its significance to Aborigines. The government and the RAAF
were presented as heartless
and slow to respond. Then came another unusual editorial headed
TURTLES ARE IN THE SOUP in which he
waxed whimsical and painted a
heart wrenching scene on
Quail Island. Mr and Mrs Turtle
, he wrote, would never hear the clump...slither... clump ...of baby turtles
flippers. This , of course, was a
play on the pitter patter of little children’s feet.
By Peter Simon
The editorial continued in similar vein ,
speaking of scrambled eggs, interrupted romances due to
bombing and falling birthrates. It raised the possibility
of turtles turning to drink due to the
bombing, crawling about in bullet
proof vests and childless turtles
stealing eggs from other nests .
Out at the RAAF base
the editorial was treated
like a
kamikaze attack on the
airport. On reading
the paper, the RAAF
chief, Group Captain Dixie Chapman, jumped into his chauffeur driven car
and went to the NT News
office. There he confronted Bowditch in his office,looking like a cross between a
rubbish tip and a bomb crater, over
the odd editorial .
Chapman made it clear
that he had read a lot of what might be impolitely termed bullshit in
his day , but the clump , slither, clump of
turtles’ flippers took the
prize. Both men laughed
heartily. Bowditch reminded the
bemused officer that
turtles also have mothers .
PADDY WHACKED IN PUB
Quail Island and its unfortunate turtles were responsible for Bowditch entering the combat zone .
A southern journalist said it was not safe to go into
the Victoria Hotel beer garden
because drinkers there would fight at the drop of a hat . Jim scoffed at the report , and while drinking with Les
Wilson at the Vic
decided to carry out a survey
to show that it was
not filled with punchy patrons.
He went from table to table asking people, sometimes in an offensive way
, if they wanted a fight. Most people
knew him ,and just laughed
. Some told him to piss off.
Others said they would
oblige the following day.
But there was a big
Irishman who aggressively said
he would like a fight because he had read the stories in the Northern Territory
News about Quail Island and its turtles and they were a load
of bullshit. The RAAF, he said,
had to practise bombing to be ready for
war.
At this stage, Wilson,
who had been watching proceedings like a guardian angel and
laughing at the responses Jim received, stepped in. He told the Irishman he had written the Quail Island stories and to
come outside and try on somebody more his equal in
weight and age. The Irishman was
keen to take on Les , also known as
“Thrasher ” Wilson because of his tendency to go the knuckle , and they
went to the “bull ring” at the back of the hotel .
Thump ! The Irishman turned turtle and bit the dust .
Despite the valiant efforts of Big Jim and Wilson, the slow moving, neurotic turtles of Quail Island were bombed for many more years , until a new range was established on the mainland in recent times.
Wilson kept a close eye on Bowditch in hotels and
steered him out of many
potentially dangerous situations
which might have landed him in the cells. There was an occasion ,
however , when Wilson feared he , his
editor and perhaps other people might be
placed in the lockup due to a story . This involved
a colourful Darwin identity,
another Kiwi , Terry Alderton, a Works Department clerk ,
who organised boxing
matches which were a part of
Darwin’s way of life in the
l950s and l960s.He was involved in teaching boxing at the Darwin Police Boys' Club
The fights
were held at various venues,some
in the open air,this writer helping construct a ring mounted on 44 gallon drums. Big crowds attended the fights, including lawyers Dick Ward and John Lyons
who sat together. At one fight , “Tiger” Lyons held up
whisps of his gingery hairy
and said he would back the red
corner.
To deny a claim , Alderton
would say , “ God be my judge ,I
did not ... ” People, especially members of the News staff , mocked his
declaration of righteousness. They
would tack his “God be my judge” on to denials
of unseemly acts with girls, boys
and a variety of animals, including
camels. Wilson and Alderton traded blows one night and the fight promotor came off second best. Alderton told how he had had been on a ship which sailed into an American base in the Pacific during WWll and had been impressed to hear Glenn Miller's "Dawn Patrol " being played over speakers .
LEPROSY REPORT CAUSES UPROAR
Alderton took boxers to the East Arm
Leprosarium to entertain Aboriginal
patients. While drinking with
Wilson, Alderton mentioned that
there was a sad situation at the
leprosarium where a white girl had been admitted suffering
from the disease. Sensing it was a major story,
Wilson asked if he could go to
East Arm with Alderton as his
assistant . There was reluctance
on both Bowditch’s and
Alderton’s behalf , because
the law prevented publication of details about people suffering from leprosy ; breaches could result in a prison term.
Apprehensive about what might transpire, Wilson nevertheless went to East Arm and wrote a touching story about the girl for the Sydney Sunday Mirror, which included a photograph of her with a nun.
Apprehensive about what might transpire, Wilson nevertheless went to East Arm and wrote a touching story about the girl for the Sydney Sunday Mirror, which included a photograph of her with a nun.
Wilson warned
the newsaper’s editor, Zell Rabin, in advance about the
NT law banning publication
of any details about lepers.
It had been decided to run the
story and after its publication Wilson received a number of
calls from angry Darwin government officials , including the head of
the Welfare Department, Harry Giese. Recalling the episode, Wilson said he
had packed his toothbrush and razor
just in case he was arrested and lodged in the cells . However, the
only time he was ushered into the cells during his time in Darwin had been to to see the editor.
It was no surprise then that
Bowditch asked Wilson to extend his time in the Territory by a
year. Apart from being a good reporter ,
Les was handy to have
around as a bodyguard for the fragile editor who got into frequent scraps.
************
After leaving Darwin , Wilson became a
hotshot journalist in
Australia, England and America .
He worked on the Sunday Mirror in Sydney
under the editorship of Zell Rabin .
On Friday afternoons Rupert Murdoch came
from his office to discuss the contents of the upcoming Sunday paper with Zell . Rabin would break out dice
and he , Murdoch , Wilson and
others would shoot craps , a game he picked up in New York . Rabin also had the
unusual habit of standing on his head , his feet against the wall , to
improve the flow of blood , according to Wilson.
From Sydney , Wilson went to Melbourne and then to
London where he worked on a magazine with another
colourful Kiwi reporter, Jim
Oram , who subsequently
became a
close friend of Jim Bowditch . Wilson wrote
early stories about the Beatles
and the Rolling Stones . Of the Rolling Stones , he opined : “
The worst pop group in the world
. They’ll go nowhere”. Over the years , this
statement would haunt Les . Furthermore ,the Rolling Stones manager ,
Andy Oldham, even offered Wilson
a share in the group for a mere three hundred pounds ($600) , but he
turned it down .
During his time in
London , Wilson went to Hamburg
and tracked down the “ Dead Beatle ”,
Stuart Sutcliffe , along with
early photographs of the group
taken by their hairdresser ,
Astrid Kerchner, which made
headlines in Fleet Street. After a stint as a feature writer on the Daily
Sketch , one of the big circulation magazines , Woman , paid him to do a Hollywood series
on popular TV shows
like The Beverly Hillbillies , My
Favourite Martian and My
Three Sons .
In those days,
Wilson said the British media was reluctant to send one of its own across the English Channel to get a story . It was left open to “ mad reporters from the
colonies ” to travel abroad, and
they made names for themselves as well
as a good deal of money .
Wilson joined the
New York office of the Sydney
Telegraph , came back to Sydney
as a feature writer and later
news editor of the Sunday
Telegraph . He returned to America
and joined the National Enquirer
, the mass circulation publication big on
scandals and Hollywood
exposes , where he was a reporter
and then
assistant editor, “ earning heaps and spending heaps .
” He now lives in Hervey Bay ,
Queensland , and sedately rides a bicycle ; had he bought a share in the Rolling Stones he would travel in a stretch limo and own the South Island of Kiwiland .
NEXT: The Mount Isa strike.
