They are waiting to enter the port of Newcastle, a hundred or more miles away. There they will load up with coal to feed the voracious economies of India and China.
The waiting ships symbolise the Australian predicament. The country is a principal source of raw materials for the emerging giants of Asia but it is struggling to deliver the goods. Cheap coal and various ores lie under the soil in abundance, but the demands are too great for the infrastructure.
Sydney these days is incontestably a great city. In the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge it boasts two of the world’s most iconic structures; it has a sky-scraping downtown profile, intermittent traffic gridlock and 101 ways with coffee. Yet offshore lies that long line of ships waiting to collect coals from Newcastle, a constant reminder of the precariousness of the city’s contemporary affluence.
During violent storms a month or so ago, one ship ran aground on a Newcastle beach after jettisoning her liquid ballast and losing control in the dangerous swell. She was eventually pulled ignominiously off the beach — but the episode drew attention to the muddle on Sydney’s horizon. The resources are there, and in demand, but the basic fact remains that the distribution and delivery systems are outmoded. The ships on the horizon look pretty by day and twinkle disarmingly at night. But they are alarming symbols.
On a more human level the problem is similar. Sydney has no underground system. The trains are unreliable and Central Station is a nightmare; cab-drivers often speak no known language and seem not to know where anywhere is; buses swirl past stops during rush hours because they’re full, and some of their drivers enjoy high-speed duels with each other.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in