JANUARY 1970 and the new intake of young men walked the dirt entrance toward the Administration building. It was the same for young Leo, son of a migrant. A shy young man without friends. The Steelworks were the biggest employer in the region. Set for life, Leos father drummed into him as he pulled up to the gate in his shiny new Holden Premier HT. Off white with matte black vinyl roof. George had worked hard providing for his family after settling in Australia, opening a tiny pizzeria at the top end of town. After a while the locals were tantalised by the tasty European delicacies, and the business thrived.
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Leo didnt want any part of his fathers business straight from school wanted a trade. As he trudged along the dirt road towards the Administration building, he could hear the scuffing noises from others following behind. Taking in the enormity of this steel city before him, he faltered at the first step up to the office where others waited.
After an hour filling in the required paper work, the group were ushered into a large shed. A few tables and chairs were at the opposite end and they were motioned to take a seat. The oak chairs had seen better days, unsteady legs and chipped table corners, obviously a fixture since day one. A typical surfer type positioned himself beside Leo still drawing back on a cigarette he lit earlier and nodded acknowledgement.Talk of safety, mateship and getting the job done was conducted by a big burly man who looked like he was about to collapse from the heat.
Off to another building, the blond surfer introduced himself as Dennis. He shook his hand and tilted his head to prompt Leo to supply him with his name. Leo clumsily introduced himself. The young men were then supplied with uniforms, boots, safety goggles and helmets and split into groups.
Dennis and Leo were still together and little did they know then that their lives would be entwined from this point.
They looked at each other and sighed with relief when the knock-off siren blew. They were both dirty, stinking and longing for a shower. The reality of this blistering hot laborious job certainly hit home.
Some of the guys took little persuasion when Dennis raised his hand to his mouth as if swallowing a drink as they dried off in the locker room. They headed to the local. Leo tried to excuse himself, Dennis wouldnt hear of it. Five of the them convened down at the Kings Hotel, barstools at the ready. Schooners all round.
Through the windows they watched the plumes of smoke and steam billowing from the magnificent steel city.
Poles apart would be the best way to describe Dennis and Leo. Dennis was a good looking, fit surfie who loved to fish, a magnet for the girls. Leo was a more reserved dark-haired, quiet type.
Somehow, they clicked and forged a real friendship. A month in, the guys were getting a good grasp on how the furnace operates and the foreman was impressed with them. They were hard workers. The Friday siren blew like clockwork. Dennis told Leo that he was taking him fishing straight after they showered. It was still daylight saving and they had plenty of time. Leo had no desire whatsoever to fish, but once again Dennis was persuasive. Dennis already had his little tinny hitched to his car, pre- planned of course. They drove to a boat ramp five minutes down the road and launched her into the tributary from the harbour. For the next two hours they laughed until their bellies hurt. They would compare their childhoods, hopes for the future and glancing up at the monolith in the background wondered how long they would work together at the BHP. From up there, they must have looked like a tiny cork bobbing on the water.
A tradition was forged and a friendship cemented, like many others that worked within the BHP. For the next 26 years, Leo and Dennis would sit idly in that little tinny. Catching a fish was always a bonus, though the mateship was the glue. Most Friday afternoons they could be seen out on the water, overshadowed by the very place where they worked their own way up the ladder to be furnace foreman. Only a handful of trips were missed.
Leo had met his lovely wife Giulia at the Italian Club in town and Dennis was godfather to his three daughters.
Dennis, naturally, met and married the bikini-clad Cheryl, a local girl who he knew through the surfing fraternity. Their twins, a boy and girl, naturally, grew up with the sand and sea in their blood. They shared all the great milestones together.
February 1996 came around and Dennis cancelled that afternoons fishing trip, taking an overtime shift needing the money for his daughters wedding.
Late evening the phone rang. Giulia answered while Leo enjoyed his sherry outside. His glass shattered hearing his wifes piercing scream. They met each other in the hallway. He couldnt speak. Neither could she. Finally, she sobbed that there had been an accident at work and Dennis had died.
Leo stared into her eyes, watching the tears fall. He was numb with disbelief. He stumbled past her and collapsed on a chair.
Many attended the funeral. Company representatives took up pews towards the back, keeping their heads bowed. It was hushed as to what happened on that shift. It didnt matter to Leo.
Two months passed, Leo again outside with his sherry heard a car pull into the driveway. It was Christopher, Denniss boy, unhitching the tinny from his dads ute.
Christopher had no interest in fishing and wanted me to have his fathers tinny. Leo accepted on one condition, a tear trickling down his cheek, that Christopher come out with him for just one Friday afternoon.
