In the National Automobile Museum of Tasmania is a green 1974 Holden Monaro HQ GTS in completely original condition. Even though I know nothing about cars, it didn’t take long for me to recognize how special this one is.

To understand why, imagine a foggy night in early January 1975 on the Tasman Bridge in Hobart. In the Derwent River below, a bulk ore carrier, called Lake Illawarra, collided with several pylons of the Tasman Bridge. A large section of the bridge deck collapsed, falling into the river and onto the ship. The ship sank, and seven of its crew died. Four cars failed to stop in time, plunging into the river, killing five occupants.
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The green Holden Monaro was balancing precariously on what was left of the bridge.

Frank Manley was the driver of that new car. His wife Sylvia was with him, along with their daughter and her uncle in the back seat. As Frank later recollected, the lights had gone out on the bridge, so they thought there had been an accident. His wife realized the bridge was gone when the road’s white line disappeared. She yelled for Frank to stop, and he hit the brakes. 

“Next thing,” Frank remembered, “we dropped over, and the wife said, ‘Put her in reverse!’ And I said, ‘Bugger reverse, get out!’” Frank explained later, “The back wheels were off the concrete, off the bridge, and if I had put her in reverse, I think the vibration would have sent us the rest of the way off the bridge.”

Frank and his family escaped the car. Since the bridge collision had happened on a Sunday night, there was very little traffic, with few cars on the bridge. The disaster had cut the main artery to Hobart’s eastern suburbs, causing major disruption.​

The repairs to the bridge took nearly three years. It reopened in October 1977. Frank Manley continued to drive his Holden Monaro.
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Every museum is filled with objects that defied the odds, that lasted long enough to make it to a museum. This car, however, feels like a particularly lucky survivor.

The Kemal Ataturk Memorial recalls the heroism and sacrifices made by soldiers on both sides. Rather than demeaning adversaries or seeing them somehow as less than human, it asks us to instead acknowledge our shared humanity—a worthwhile thing to do on ANZAC day.

Unfortunately, the massive undertaking was a failure from the start. Even during construction, rabbits hopped around the fence, moving ever farther west. While the rabbit-proof fence may have been ineffective at stopping rabbits, it did serve as a landmark for three girls trying to find their way home.

The Aborigines Act of 1905 allowed the Australian government to forcibly remove indigenous children from their families and resettle them to assimilate into white culture. These children became known as the stolen generations. In 1931, Dolly and her younger cousins Gracie and Daisy lived in Jigalong, a settlement that had been established to maintain the rabbit-proof fence. The three girls had white fathers, and the government’s removal policy focused on "helping" those that were part-white by moving them away to  assimilate quicker. The three girls were torn from their families and moved to Moore River Native Settlement, around 1000 miles away from Jigalong. Dolly soon decided to escape, trusting in her bushcraft and ability to follow the fence to lead her and her cousins back home.

Author Doris Pilkington Garimara recounts the story of her mother Dolly’s epic trek in the book Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence. The book was later made into an award-winning 2002 movie by Phillip Noyce.

In societies where making sharp observations about one's leaders or protesting policies in writing landed you in trouble, in prison, or worse, cartoonists soon learned to express all that with images. The National Library of Australia's collection contains more than 14,000 editorial cartoons, and the best of them are on exhibit now. Running from 7 March to 21 July, the exhibition is called Inked: Australian Cartoons.  

As an American in Australia, it was a chance to learn more about a culture by understanding its cartoons. The exhibition includes cartoons that capture the beginnings of Australia at Botany Bay all the way up to those that comment on current events. Wandering through the galleries, I felt like an anthropologist happening upon dozens of tiny time capsules.

Early cartoons explored Great Britain's relationship with this exotic new land. In the cartoon on the left, British cartoonist John Boyne suggests in 1786 that the planned penal colony would be a fitting home for the Prince of Wales. Notice that the prince wears a jester’s cap and sits on a barrel of tokay, a sweet fortified wine. His mistress and two moneylenders bid him farewell. In one image, Boyne suggests the prince’s crimes: drunkenness and promiscuity with both women and money. In a later cartoon from 1868, William Wyatt memorializes the arrival of an important visitor to Australia. Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh, was the first member of the royal family to visit. A bevy of exotic animals greet him, including a kangaroo, wombat, wallaby, and an emu. The British Lion stands behind the prince.

After Federation on 1 January 1901, with a new constitution and federal government, the young nation struggled to establish its identity on the world stage. During the World Wars, the new country identified with the image that was developing of the Australian soldier: brave, practical, down to earth, and suspicious of authority. 

In the second row above, cartoons comment on our obsession with technology, approaches to global warming, and the referendum on same sex marriage. Cartoonist David Pope found signs of life and optimism when Australia voted "yes" for same sex marriage late in 2017.

The exhibition was eye-opening. I could definitely do worse than studying cartoons to try to understand a country and its culture.

A recent post compared the government shutdown in the United States to Australia’s 1975 crisis over passing an appropriations bill. To resolve the crisis, the Queen’s representative, Sir John Kerr, who served as Governor-General, sacked Australia’s prime minister and put in the opposition leader to pass a bill before the supply (appropriations money) ran out on 27 November. When Parliament sought a no-confidence vote for the new prime minister, Kerr dissolved Parliament and called for elections. Kerr’s actions have remained controversial all the way up to today, and I noted there was a pending court case to make his communications with the Queen public, to determine to what extent Queen Elizabeth II was involved with her Governor-General’s decisions. Buckingham Palace has always maintained she knew nothing at all.

A court recently found that the palace letters between Kerr and Queen Elizabeth II will remain off-limits to the public. The decision has outraged many Australians and prompted more discussion about becoming a republic versus remaining a constitutional monarchy. This article explains the case and the constitutional ramifications of the court’s decision.

At a recent lunch with Australian friends, we commiserated over the U.S. government shutdown (now in its 33rd day with 800,000 federal workers still unpaid). One said, “We did this once too, you know.” And he shared with us the story of Australia’s 1975 government shutdown.

The Parliament of Australia consists of the House of Representatives and the Senate. In October 1975, the ruling Labor party had passed appropriation bills in the House of Representatives, where they held a majority. The opposition Liberal party, which controlled the Senate, refused to pass those bills. The Liberal party objected to what they saw as expansive spending, particularly since signs indicated the country could be moving into a recession. The Liberal party wanted Prime Minister Gough Whitlam, leader of the Labor party, to call an election for the House of Representatives. Instead, Whitlam planned to call for an election in the Senate, hoping to seize control there.

Meanwhile, because Australia is a constitutional monarchy, Parliament has another element: Queen Elizabeth II is the head of State. The Queen’s representative at the time, Sir John Kerr, served as Governor-General. Kerr negotiated with both parties and recognized that neither the Labor nor the Liberal party would give in. He also knew that the supply (appropriations money) would run out on 27 November. Prime Minister Whitlam’s planned election to break the Senate stalemate wasn’t until 13 December.

Kerr sacked Whitlam on 11 November 1975 and put Liberal party leader Malcolm Fraser in his place. Fraser quickly passed the appropriations bills in the Senate. Kerr released the following statement on 19 November 1975:

The Labor party, outraged by the change of government, sought a no-confidence vote against the new prime minister. No doubt exasperated, Kerr then dissolved Parliament. An election was held the next month, which resulted in Fraser and the Liberal party controlling Parliament with a large majority.

The resulting political turmoil from Kerr’s controversial actions has lasted many years, up until the current day. It is unknown how much Queen Elizabeth II was involved with her Governor-General’s decision. While Buckingham Palace maintains she knew nothing at all, there is a pending lawsuit to make her communications with Kerr public.

There has never been a government shutdown in Australia since. Those long-lasting reverberations from the 1975 crisis have convinced Australian politicians to never again hold appropriations bills hostage. There is an unspoken agreement between the parties that appropriations bills will always be passed, and Parliament will keep the government running.

Looking at our current crisis, I find myself wondering: Where’s Queen Elizabeth II and a Governor-General when you need them?

On Valentine’s Day in 1966, Australia converted from an old pound system to a decimal currency. It’s hard to imagine today how sweeping that conversion was. The change was on a massive scale, as huge as the day Sweden made the switch from driving on the left to
driving on the right. The day of the big change, called “C-Day” for Currency Day in Australia, was a major logistical and public relations success.

Australia’s old system of currency had pounds, shillings, and pence like the British system. The problem was that the pound divided into 20 shillings of 12 pence each, making the math involved in transactions complicated. Australia wanted to convert to a decimal currency to match its trading partners and many other countries in the world. The new system would have a major unit divided into 100 smaller units.

The question was what to name the new monetary unit. Prime Minister Robert Menzies wanted to call it the Royal, an unpopular choice among Australians. Other names were proposed, such as the Dinkum, the Austral, and the Merino. Eventually, the name Dollar was chosen, which was divided into 100 cents, much like America’s system of currency. The new coins depicted Australian wildlife, while the notes illustrated Australia’s history and accomplishments.

Starting in 1965, a widespread media campaign began to educate the public about the upcoming change. The campaign featured the cartoon character Dollar Bill. Older Australians fondly remember the popular jingle.  

Three months before the changeover, banks converted their machinery and processes and stocked up on the new currency.

The big day came on Monday, 14 February 1966. The banks had been closed since the previous Wednesday in preparation. Thursday had been a Public Service pay day, so many people lined up at the banks, eager to cash their first pay check in decimal currency.

Australians observe other ANZAC Day traditions as well. Some participate in the game “two-up” that WWI soldiers played in the field. A spinner tossed two coins in the air, and the soldiers gambled on how the coins would fall. Playing two-up is illegal across Australia except for on ANZAC Day.

Many people have the tradition of baking or eating ANZAC biscuits, a type of sweet biscuit that the soldiers ate. Because the recipe is made without milk or eggs, the biscuits had a long shelf life and didn’t spoil during transportation.

This year, I feel honoured to take part in the rituals and traditions of ANZAC Day.