TAXI LOG by Richard Cantwell 27 Driscoll Way Morley W.A
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TAXI LOG by Richard Cantwell 27 Driscoll Way Morley W.A. 6062 (09) 3759403 Dedicated to Geoffrey Rees Cantwell Gone in body, here in Spirit. I was awaken a few times during the night by Phillip who hadn’t settled since coming home from hospital and recovering from his diagnosed disease of Meningitis. He was born at 11.55 PM on 26Th July 1989 during a sudden blackout and now it was Tuesday 26 Th March 1991. Marlene felt it more than I, she seemed to never sleep and was having dizzy spells. I left home on the push bike at 4.10 AM against a cool breeze from Morley to Mount Hawthorn about 10 kilometres to pick up the taxi that I left in a group with other taxis for almost five years, driving five shifts a week. Other drivers were rostered to drive at other times. It was cold sometimes riding the bike in winter in a stupor, the hands became numb but I could smell the gum trees as I passed and the pine trees near the golf course, hearing the birds chattering in the trees and occasionally I would see the fox amongst the trees. I became an expert picking the weather as it was necessary to make a judgement on taking wet weather gear or not and the decision had to be correct. I became aware of the hills and slopes the coolest section of the journey, down in a lower section of Alexandra Drive opposite Yokine Reserve. As I rode the breaking of the peace was the occasional passing of a car that would drown the noise of the birds and drown the atmosphere with the smell of burnt fuel. The noise would gradually lessen as would the smell and after a few minutes the noise of the birds and smell of nature would return. It was a non conforming method of commuting a way of raising the endorphins’ in the body but the end result was physical and mental well being. At 4.43 Am I was in the taxi and the distant 5.00 AM airport jobs were being called by Don Barnes the night operator. I didn’t get a 5.00 Am booking this morning and drove to the Subiaco rank and sat in the morning darkness. It didn’t seem long before the regular Mr Morris waddled along with his airline bag over his shoulder and his shopping bags in both hands. He got into the front seat and as usual was going to Perth Railway station. Mr Morris was a big man probably 18 stone, used to work in O’Conner and walked about 8 kilometres from a Fremantle hotel to his engineering employer every morning. He was thinner and fitter then. The company moved to Bayswater and then he used to walk all the way from Fremantle to Perth Railway station about 20 kilometres until he finally moved to the Subiaco Hotel where he now caught the taxi instead of walking. We talked about tennis as he was a B grade tennis player in his youth and we mostly filled in the journey on that subject. Before we got to the City Railway station Mr Morris thrust the money into my hand to save an extra drop of 10 cents on the meter before the taxi stopped. I turned towards Subiaco again and kept my ear out for an airport job which was possible at that time of day. There was a taxi on the Subiaco rank and one on the Shenton Park rank and it sounded like there were taxis towards Fremantle. I drove that way and tried for a job in Claremont, but a car on the East Claremont rank was closer and got the job. I drove to the Claremont rank and parked. After a few minutes I was given a job on position in King Street Claremont. There was a party and I was a bit apprehensive at who I could pick up. Two young sensible sober women in their late teens got into the back seat. One was English, the other Australian, the latter had just finished a season in a play at the Hayman Theatre and was looking forward to a rest 2 until her next play. The English woman was travelling around had been to Melbourne, didn’t like it much as it was big and expensive and reminded her of her own city London. I dropped them both in Kensington and went and parked on the Kensington rank. I tried for a few jobs, there were closer cars, one taxi called the RAC via Don Barnes the operator, a woman had broken down on the way to work in the morning darkness. As time passed the sun began to shine on the tops of the tall buildings in Perth and slowly it was moving down. A cloudless sky was appearing. I changed the flag fall on the metre from the night rate of $2.90 to the day rate at 6 AM of $1.90. On the news was the passing into history of Sir John Kerr who died of a brain tumour aged 76 years. The man who sacked the Whitlam Government on the same date that Ned Kelly was hung in the old Melbourne Gaol, two people who have had and will continue to have many words written about them. Launceston was forecast 22 degrees maximum and little rain. Three dogs walked around the taxi smelling each other enjoying each others company. There were several cranes on the sky line in Perth indicating a lot of building activity, the buildings were committed during the boom times of the late 1980’s and there was an oversupply as the boom bubble had burst. One skyscraper had no tenants committed and the interior would be left a shell until a tenant could be found. Others had few to fill the floors. About 6.20 Am I received a 6.30 Am booking from Willis Street East Victoria Park to the Home of Peace nursing home in Subiaco. A woman came out and told me as we drove that yesterday morning she had slept in and the taxi driver kindly knocked on the door and woke her and she managed to get to work on time. Soon after dropping I heard a job going in Cottesloe to the airport, I pressed the button and was given the job. A young man going to the International airport going to Cocos Islands to supervise the loading of fuel to tanks that belonged to Qantas and were now used for supplying the needs of the Islands. He said the Clunies Ross family owned the shipping line and had gone bankrupt when the Commonwealth Government had changed the freight from their shipping line to another company. The family had owned the islands dating back to Queen Victoria and there was a Copra industry that had kept the islands busy with a local currency that was used by employees only on the islands. Went from the International airport to Kewdale (2 cars) East Victoria Park rank (2 cars) to Manning (2 cars ) then I switched to the Fremantle channel and went to the Applecross rank. Took an impeccably dressed woman going from Applecross to the St Georges Terrace. Next a young woman from Mount Street Perth to Colin Street West Perth. She was appreciative of me arriving so quickly as she had worked late last night and slept in. Next job was a woman from the main entrance of Princes Margaret Children’s hospital to a newsagent in Milligan Street Perth. As she got out she said she had picked her lucky number at the casino last night and had won $100 and walked out. I drove towards Fremantle, there were cars on ranks and eventually got a job from the North Cottesloe Surf Club. An unshaven man about 30 years old smelling of alcohol with a bag with Tweed Heads emblazoned on the side. Before he could say where he wanted to go I asked if he wanted to go to Tweed Heads. He was a bit taken aback until he realised where I got it from and said he wanted to go to Loftus Street Leederville. He was happy keeping to himself as it was obvious he had a heavy night. Next fare was two men from the West Australian Ballet company going to the Edith Cowan University to give a workshop. They told me where they had performed and that the company operated on a shoe string with only 16 dancers whilst experts had said that they needed an extra 4 dancers to operate effectively. Next job a man about 30 years old going from West Perth to Murdoch University. He was having soap placed in his eyes as an experiment to see what his bodies reaction was and he got $5 dollars an hour for it. He was back into study after drifting aimlessly for many years. Drove towards Fremantle and saw the deep blue of the sea in the distance a refreshing sight at any time. There were 3 personality changes to Fremantle in the 15 years I had been driving taxis, pre America’s cup, America’s cup and post America’s cup. Picked up a regular elderly man from Holdsworth Street who travelled to the Fremantle Town Hall. He was crippled, polite and a proud man who didn’t like us to help him. He’d worked in the Public service for 34 years and went daily. He returned of an afternoon with a couple of brown bottles in the airline bag that he carried with him whenever he went out.