Schapelle Corby Revisited

Schapelle Corby was convicted in an Indonesian court of smuggling 4kg of marijuana into the country in her boogie board bag.

When she was arrested and the facts began to surface, I voiced my opinion that she was innocent. Probably not a wise move as at the time I had as a major client an American anti-drug organisation. I lost the account.

My lawyer said she was guilty. The Indonesian justice system said she was guilty. The Australian newspapers said she was guilty. Eventually I capitulated, but I did feel that a 20 year sentence was perhaps a tad harsh, particularly in light of the fact that the Bali Bomber got only four years (of which he served less than 26 months).

However, it appears there are still people out there who are standing up for convicted drug smuggler Schappel Corby who is quietly going mad in an overcrowded, stinking Indonesian prison.

Among them are the publishers of The Expendable Project who make numerous points well worth  consideration if ever you had even the shadow of a doubt about the outcome of the case.

It is worth taking into account the long list of drug associations of family members and friends which Wikipedia outlines. This in itself does not prove guilt, but there's an awful lot of smoke!


Postscript Nov 2011

A new book on the subject has just been released.
"Sins of the Father by Sun-Herald journalist Eamonn Duff adds a myriad detail to the circumstances surrounding Australia's most polarising criminal cases since Lindy Chamberlain's conviction."

It leaves little doubt of Schappelle Corby's guilt.

http://www.smh.com.au/national/we-agree--corby-is-guilty-says-publisher-20111109-1n6fw.html

Noddy Felt a Little Queer

Noddy banned? I'd heard and repeated this one so many times, but I really thought it was a myth until I came across the transcript of Andrew Denton interviewing Don Chip on Enough Rope...

ANDREW DENTON: When you were Minister for Customs and Excise, you were in charge of censorship in this country and at that time, late 60s, early 70s, you've described Australia as censorship crazy. In what way?

DON CHIPP: The list was banned. You couldn't publish it.

ANDREW DENTON: The list?

DON CHIPP: You didn't know what was banned and what wasn't. Intolerable. I published the list and the reasons why it was banned.

ANDREW DENTON: Were there some stupid bannings? Were these all sensual books, or…

DON CHIPP: 'Noddy' was banned once.

ANDREW DENTON: 'Noddy'.

DON CHIPP: Enid Blyton, because there is a place on page 84 which says "And Noddy walked down a country lane and felt a little queer."

ANDREW DENTON: And that was banned in this country?

DON CHIPP: Yeah.

http://www.abc.net.au/tv/enoughrope/transcripts/s1730839.htm

Do You Believe?

"Do you believe", said Frederique, and paused, searching for words. English is not her first language. Nor her second or third, for that matter. "In Yeti?" I replied. "Oui. In Miracles? Oui. In Santa Clause? Not so much."

I forget now what the question was, but it led to a discussion of Yeti which involved a mention of them in "The Long Walk", a book published in the mid 1950's and which to my utter amazement Frederique was quite familiar with. I've used that reference many times over the years to bolster my argument that the creatures are far from mythical, having seen what I believe must have been their tracks high in the Himalayas during a trek in the early 80's.

I was mortified to learn that a BBC researcher has cast serious doubt on the veracity of the author, having found documentation which contradict his claims to have made the extraordinary journey.

The Wikipedia article on the author and his book leaves the question open.

As for miracles, Peter FitzSimons introduces a story of an extraordinary failure. Sydney's infamous suicide spot The Gap at South Head has been much in the news in recent years as the location where the beautiful young model Caroline Byrne was hurled to her death. Gordon Wood was convicted of her murder. In 1923 The Gap made headlines when young Nellie, broken-hearted, climbed the railing, covered her eyes, and leapt to certain death on the rocks below. A split second later she had a change of heart and decided she really wanted to live. How do we know that, you might ask? A freak wave crashed onto the rock ledge and she landed in momentarily deep water, and her plunge was witnessed by two fishermen in a boat who braved the huge seas to rescue her.

The full story is quite marvelous, and told with considerable flair.

AC/DC

Eleanore & I arrived at Frederique's place in Switzerland, found the key in the letterbox as arranged, and proceeded upstairs carrying a few bits of luggage and the package which had also been in the post box. As it turned out Serge was already home and greeted us at the door. As I handed him the package he said "Ah, that will be my AC/DC CD's - delivered by an Australian!"

I do love these tiny rhymes of life.

In the news recently:
You Shook Me All Night Long Moscato ACDC Wine
And this gem by Peter FitzSimons on bassist Mark Evans
Lit up with le Bon vivant

Nancy Wake

A chapter of history was underlined yesterday with the death of the White Mouse, nom de guerre of Nancy Wake, born in NZ and raised in Australia.

A leader of 7000 resistance fighters during WWII, she received France's highest military award, the Legion d'honneur, and three Croix de guerre. She was also decorated by the British and, belatedly, by the Australian Government in 2004.

Nancy holds a very special place in my heart. Her story is told by Russell Braddon and the book sat first on my step-mother Sue's bookshelf and later, in triplicate, on mine. When Peter Fitzsimons book arrived, I discovered to my great surprise that Nancy had lived next door to a close childhood friend, Stewart (whose brother had a Heinkel scooter) and she went to the same church in which I'd been confirmed, St Augustines, directly across the road from my house in Wycombe Road, Neutral Bay.

Further information in this 2009 post about Nancy Wake.

More on Nancy Wake's exploits at the SMH:
http://www.smh.com.au/national/memories-of-the-feisty-white-mouse-20110808-1ij8z.html

Paper Nautilus

Some years ago my friend Rob Thompson and I were flying my glider from Tasmania to mainland Australia when the weather closed in as we were approaching Flinders Island. We were forced to land on tiny Cape Baren Island (population about 250) at an airstrip which has a very short cross strip in case there are strong winds. By now it was blowing hard, and it was a very difficult landing.

We stayed overnight with the postmaster and his wife. Their son was in the RAAF (The Royal Australian Air Force) so they were very pleased to host a couple of fellow pilots. The postmaster's wife was a Tasmanian aborigine. The history of the Tasmanian aborigines is a very sad one indeed - the race was almost wiped out by the impact of the Europeans.

The postmaster collects paper nautilus shells which are from a type of squid which sometimes wash up on the beaches of the Bass Strait islands in the thousands after storms. Very few of the delicate shells survive as they are pecked and eaten by birds. I brought several of the rare and beautiful shells back to Sydney in the back of the glider, very carefully packed.

I made a present of one of those shells to Emile for his 18th birthday.

Baccalauréat

Riding in the car with Emile we discussed tomorrows' oral examination, his broken English and my extemely fragile franglais. I worked out that it was to be on a literary figure and suggested Molliere as a for instance. As I cannot yet roll my rrrs I had to explain you know, the writer from the 17th (or 18th) century, humorous plays...

The following day he phoned me and opened the conversation by telling me the subject of his exam. Molliere! Later when we met I asked if he was pulling my leg, mais non, he had it in his mind as he walked into the examination room, hoping it might be him as he knew the subject well. And it was.

...................

And in a similar vein

This year I intended to repeat last year's Alpine motorcycle trip with a friend as pillion passenger, but cancelled much to her disappointment. All was not lost, however, as she got a spot pillioning with the tour leader, Cliff Pop of Ozalps. Some sort of family emergency caused her to cancel too. Her son James returned to the UK after a visit with her in Australia, and there got into conversation with chap in a pub and mentioned that his mum was very disappointed to have missed the adventure. Turned out the chap he was chatting with was going on the very same trip.