The Australian Maritime Safety Authority (AMSA) recently hosted a series of Community Information Days around the country to “showcase a number of changes that will be taking place in 2013 … including the overhaul of century-old laws”. AMSA invited “interested community members to attend the information sessions … to learn more about the core areas of AMSA’s business and how it may impact their business or lifestyle”.
I reflected on my business and lifestyle and contemplated an overhaul of my own.
Perhaps now would be the right time for me to develop that much needed new speciality … martime law. It has rather a nice ring to it. I’d even call it ’boutique’.
I ducked into the Information Day in my lunch break to find a couple of dozen people milling around a few tables of brochures. I sought out a representative from AMSA.
“Hi, I’m a lawyer,” I said introducing myself.
“A maritime lawyer?”
“No, but business has been a bit slow of late so I’m thinking of becoming one,” I said. “I presume the new laws will make things more complex? More … lucrative perhaps?”
“Well the idea is to simplify things,” he said. “It should mean less work for the lawyers.”
“What kind of a reform is that?”
“A good one,” he said. “Speaking as the head of corporate affairs.”
“Lawyers have corporate affairs too you know.”
This guy wasn’t exactly opportunity knocking. And I hadn’t learned a thing about maritime law. I thought I’d better move on, and have a glass of water.
A sturdy-looking woman joined me by the water cooler. She stood fast.
“Are you a police officer or something?”
“Ex-Navy,” she said.
“You work for AMSA?”
“Yep. Search and rescue.”
“Like who? Lost sailors? Refugees?”
“The lot, unfortunately,” she said. “And I don’t have much sympathy for
any of them.”
She told me about a recent distress call.
“The boat was twelve klicks off the Indonesian coast when they called,” she said. “We told them: you’re fine, your boat is fine, turn around and go back.”
“Twelve Ks off the coast? How did you know that?”
“Can’t tell you,” she said.
But she did share her advice on the best way to manage a boatload of refugees.
“Stand them up against the superstructure, and aim the fire hoses at them,” she said. “Anyone who moves gets a spray.”
“Is that in the new laws?” I said, looking back to the brochures.
“Ought to be standard operating procedure.”
She reached for a glass of water. I made for the door.
I bumped into a guy on the way out.
“What did you think?” he said.
“Not sure,” I said. “What brought you here?”
“I’m a naval architect,” he said. “You?”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“Ha!” he said. “Worked for one of them once. Do you know what anally-retentive means?”
“I said I’m a lawyer.”
We stepped outside into darkening skies.
“This lawyer – my old boss – used to send me a meeting request every single day,” he said. “And every one of these meetings was a performance review.”
I thought I saw a flash of lightening.
“Sounds like a workplace bully,” I said.
Thunder clapped. It was going to storm.
“Let me tell you all about it …”
Sure enough, raindrops started to spatter, and yet he continued, unrelenting.
I nodded, and sighed … and let this stranger’s unresolved grievance wash over me in that familiar way. And, as the rain came, ‘maritime’ felt no different from any other area of law.