Almost everyone who has ever visited Nimbin as a tourist will regale you with a story of how they were walking down the main street of Nimbin and were approached, and were asked if they wanted to buy some marijuana. It’s almost a badge of honour for some. But looking back on my forty-something years of visiting Nimbin, I can honestly say it’s never happened to me. I probably look far too straight.
The Nimbin Rocks is a significant cultural site to the local Bundjalung people who believe the rocks were home to the Nmbngee, or Clever Men
Today, I thought I might be approached. I had my camera hanging around my neck, and I was wearing a tourist t-shirt. But no, nothing. That said, I was with a mate, a long-term local, and the only green stuff we were interested in was parsley to add to the pasta. The Emporium was sold out. Outrageous!
Jokes aside, I had a lovely day with friends, visiting them on their farm, and here are some photographs from my visit.
Today, I’m sharing an interview with former NRL referee Bill Harrigan from my own career archives, having worked in radio for a fairly long time.
I’m not too sure how many people outside of dedicated Rugby League fans remember Bill now, but back in the late 1990s and early 2000s, he was a legend—the face of refereeing in the game. When he released his autobiography, The Bill Harrigan Story, I interviewed him about his life both on and off the field.
🎙️ Summary of the Bill Harrigan Interview
In this interview, Bill Harrigan offers a rare perspective on refereeing Rugby League, explaining that he can’t enjoy the game like a spectator because he’s constantly focusing on rules and angles, noting that television angles often misrepresent his view. He addresses the public perception that he is “arrogant” and “up himself,” stating that his autobiography was intended to change that view by revealing his background as a police officer and his personality. Harrigan recounts a terrifying experience in 1985 while serving with the Tactical Response Group during the Bathurst bike riots, where he was fire-fighting police officers hit by Molotov cocktails and had to run for his life after chasing a rioter. He clarifies that he left the police force not due to fear, but for the opportunity to become a full-time referee in 1995. Finally, he shares the humorous anecdote of appearing on the dating show Perfect Match in the early eighties to win a travel prize, admitting he and his match “spiced it up” for the cameras even though he was seeing someone else. He concludes by expressing concern about his career prospects after retirement, noting the financial necessity of finding a new job immediately.
🎙️ ABC ARCHIVES: Interview with Bill Harrigan
Bill Harrigan: First. I’m involved in the game that much that it’s a methodical thing where I’m just going through the rules and watching the play and calling the shots and all that sort of thing. So I don’t get to enjoy it like a spectator does in the grandstand all back in, you know, sitting in their lounge room. And that’s why I’ve got to go home and watch it. And I haven’t had an opportunity yet. I’ve been too busy since the grand final. But in saying that too, I get a whole a different view to what you do. And a lot of people make this mistake. They go, oh, why didn’t he see that forward pass? But they’re seeing it from the camera angle or from where they’re sitting in the grandstand. Now, when I’m down on ground level, I’m looking through I’ve got a different angle completely. So I’ve got a different perspective of it. I’ve got players in front of me. Um, I may be looking at something else and just miss something. And yet people say, oh, how could he miss that? But they’re seeing a completely different angle to what I am.
James O’Brien: Do you ever get confused by what’s going on? Do you ever find yourself thinking, hang on, stuff’s going on here. I don’t know what’s going on.
Bill Harrigan: You do that sometimes if you get a pinball effect. And that is when someone kicks the ball and then it hits somebody and it ricochets off him and hits somebody else and then hits somebody else, and then all of a sudden somebody’s got the ball and running and you’re thinking, what happened there? And then you quickly replay it back in your mind and you go hit him. Went to him, went to him. It’s okay. Play on or you go knock on.
James O’Brien: So even though if it’s not immediately obvious, you still can sort of recount things.
Bill Harrigan: Yeah. The biggest thing is to try and get it right. And so sometimes you may have a, it might only be a second, second and a half delay in making a decision, but that seems like an eternity to everybody else because you’re thinking, jeez, he blew that whistle late. What’s going on? But what you’re doing is you’re replaying it over in your mind and you’re going, bang! Yeah, that happened, that happened, that happened. Oh yeah. Play on or do this. And that’s why the delays there.
James O’Brien: Now you’re out and about promoting your autobiography. Why do you think people want to read the Bill Harrigan story?
Bill Harrigan: Um, well, I’m hoping I’ve got a profile big enough and people are interested enough to pick up the book and have a look at it. And when they do, and they read about it because it’s not just about football and about my refereeing days. It’s about days in the cops and growing up and my beliefs and that sort of thing. But I think the biggest thing that I’m trying to achieve there is there is a perception of who Bill Harrigan is or who I’m like.
James O’Brien: What do you think the perception is?
Bill Harrigan: Well, the perception is that this bloke’s up himself and he’s arrogant and all that sort of thing. And and my wife had that at the start with the guy who wrote the book with me, Daniel Lane. His attitude was, yeah, this this bloke’s Hollywood. He’s certainly changed. When you pick up the book and you read it, I think you’ll change your opinion.
James O’Brien: There are some really interesting little bits of trivia in the book that I came across. I mean, obviously we know the big picture story, but there are a couple of nice little stories that I hope you might tell. Uh, in the mid eighties, you were part of the Tactical Response group of the New South Wales Police. You were in a pretty dangerous situation in Bathurst at Easter with the bike riots. Can you explain what happened there?
Bill Harrigan: Yes. Nineteen eighty five Bathurst bike races. And every year it’s. And it’s not bikie gangs either. It’s just bikers who go up there and some of them then drink too much. Think okay, let’s have a bit of fun. We’ll go out and we’ll rock the police compound. And so they start rocking it with bottles and rocks. Then it becomes Molotov cocktails and soaked toilet rolls and petrol. So they’re all flaming on fire.
James O’Brien: How old were you at the time?
Bill Harrigan: Um, back then, I was twenty five years of age, and I’d been, uh, two and a half, three years in the elite Tactical Response Group. I was in that from day one when it first was put together. Um, we’d trained for it. We got called up to help protect the twelve police officers that were just up there roaming the, you know, the hill and policing the hill just as they normally would. Um, they come under fire. So we got called up there. Out we went. By this time, there was a crowd of, you know, around four thousand people had surrounded the compound and the compound was on fire. The roof was on fire. They were out there trying to put that out. There was bottles and rocks being slammed all over the place, and we had to run out and try and stop the crowd from attacking the compound and just disperse them.
James O’Brien: How scared were you?
Bill Harrigan: Well, I was packing it. Yeah, absolutely. packing it. And, um, you know, you can put a lot more blunt than that, but we won’t. Um, but I was very scared out there. I was fearful for my life. Because in the end, as things happen, I got blokes standing beside me getting hit with Molotov cocktails. And the first hour and a half I was the fireman of of a particular line which had twelve fellows in it. If a molotov cocktail or a firebomb come over, I would run to where it looked like it was going to land. If it landed amongst our team, we wouldn’t break our line. You had to stand there and and cop it. So when it shattered, the petrol would flame and it would engulf that person. So we had fire resistant uniforms and everything on, but you still were lit up. My job was to straight away douse him with the extinguisher, put him out, and then if he had got on me, then whack it off on me as well. So that’s what I did. For the first hour and a half. One police officer, he panicked. He turned and ran. He broke the line and was running away. And I had to chase him. You can see me on footage running after him, um, trying to put him out with this extinguisher. Then after that, I went off the fireman’s position for other reasons, and I come back out into the line. And then we were called to charge, and we’d charge forward and move the crowd back, and then we’d have to regroup when we heard the whistle. And on one occasion, there was one guy who was urinating in bottles, throwing him at us, hitting us. Coppers were going down left, right and centre from this guy, and two of us chased him and we got that close to him when we heard the whistle blow to come back and reform. And both of us thought we’ve got him. And so we just went that a little bit further, chasing him, and all of a sudden we’ve chased him too far and we found ourselves amongst a crowd that then turned on us, and we end up having to run for our lives.
James O’Brien: Was it incidents like that which convinced you to leave the police force?
Bill Harrigan: No. I only left the police force eventually because I was offered the job full time refereeing. And that was something.
James O’Brien: That because you were doing part time refereeing at this stage, weren’t you?
Bill Harrigan: Yeah, I was still part time refereeing, and that was back in eighty five. And I went full time in ninety five.
James O’Brien: Was it was it a hard decision or. Um.
Bill Harrigan: No. It was. Well, yeah, it took a long time. But in the end I always I thought I was juggling refereeing and family and police work. So at the end of nineteen ninety five, I was going to retire. All I wanted to do was have one year with the new expanded competition. Because Perth had come into the competition, Auckland had come into the competition, then Super League came along in ninety five and offered full time work for referees. And so I said, yeah, that’s me. I want to have a go at this. And then I didn’t have to juggle everything around.
James O’Brien: The other bit of trivia I found from reading your book is that you were once back in the early eighties on the notorious TV show Perfect Match.
Bill Harrigan: Yes, I.
James O’Brien: Was. And you were picked.
Bill Harrigan: And I was.
James O’Brien: Picked. Okay. Can you tell us what happened there?
Bill Harrigan: Yeah, I went on that, and that was well before I was a first grade referee. So I was just unknown back in those days. But I went on I had the travel bug and I thought, yeah, I’d love to go on this. And they’re giving prizes out to travel to Bali and cruises and all that sort of thing. Why not? Yeah. So I’ll go on it. I went on there, fortunate enough to be picked, had a weekend trip to Bali, um, came back, told our story, went back on the show, ended up being the perfect match. As far as the Dexter rating goes with Wendy, the girl that chose me. We had a seventy five percent match rating, so we got an extra prize. We got one stereo system each, and I just thought the whole thing was fun and it was a great time.
James O’Brien: But you were seeing someone else at the time?
Bill Harrigan: Yes. So I had another girlfriend and I met her after I’d already applied for the show. And so I said, look, I’ve applied for this perfect match, so, you know, should I go on? And she said, yeah, that’d be great, go on and have some fun. So I did go on it. And when we came back, Wendy and I did say, look, ten couples go away each week. Only five get back on the show to tell their story. If we don’t get on, let’s make it. We really didn’t get on. So they want us to go back on the show. And if we do get on, let’s just spice it up a little bit to make it look like we really did get on well. So we still get on there to get the next prize. Yeah. Um, we got on, so we spiced it up, but it was just too spicy.
James O’Brien: See the showman even then, weren’t you?
Bill Harrigan: Yeah, I suppose so.
James O’Brien: Got me in terms of your future. Now what? After you retire from being a referee.
Bill Harrigan: If I decide to retire in the off season, which is what I’m contemplating, whether I come back again for another year or not. Um, I hope that there’s something out there for him in the media. I really I’m at a loss because I had seventeen and a half years in the police. Um, I’ve given that away and I’m thinking, okay, what am I going to do now? And, you know, the money that I’ve earned from refereeing is not enough to turn around and say, hey, I can give this one. No wonder I’m nowhere near what the players earn. So I have to get a job. So as soon as I retire, I’ve got to go and get a job. Otherwise mortgage and food on the table and everything just goes out the door. Um, so I’m just like anybody else there. What I’m going to do, I don’t know. And certainly that will come into consideration.
When asked to choose a team name in keeping with the theme “borders”, I chose “Coolangatta Gold”. Admittedly, it’s a rather obscure reference to a 1980s film which starred Colin Friels, Robin Kevin, Grant Kenny and others about ironman events. As such, I thought it was a great way to encompass the interests of my friend (film and ocean swimming) and of course for me, coming from the NSW North Coast, I was well aware of the significance of Coolangatta being on the border of NSW and Queensland. Clever, though such a shame I had to explain it :)
Anyway, we had to choose a team name because we were selected as one of three groups to judge tonight’s contestants at “The Moth”, a story telling night at Sydney’s “Giant Dwarf”.
As we sat and watched the stories being told, our minds and conversation wandered back to attending a “Moth” event almost twelve months ago in New York. We reminisced about how amazing the night was, ending with a late night meal at Balthazar’s where Salman Rushdie was seated at a nearby table. Truly memorable. In contrast, our night started off with a bite to eat at Abdul’s with no apparent celebrities seated closeby.
Nonetheless, we had a terrific night. None of the stories were “standout”. Oddly enough, one of the best stories of the night was told by a fourteen year old girl. Many of them were either over-rehearsed, or didn’t really have a purpose. There was one story, for example, where early in the piece, we whispered in each other’s ears “I don’t care”. That’s the one we gave the lowest score too, and one where we were clearly out of step with the rest of the room.
As scorers, I think we were the most consistent of the night. In contrast other times varied considerably. We must have gained a reputation, though, as hard markers. Overheard in the women’s toilets at intermission was “That team at the front, Coolangatta Gold are pretty hard core”. Really? Our lowest score was 7.6 out of ten (and that was probably a little generous). And did I mention my friend and I have been in the “story” business for several decades between us? I’ve also had my own experience as an on-stage story-teller. Anyway…
A fun night, and congratulations to the organisers, and to the story tellers who had the guts to get up and tell a story in front of a crowd of a few hundred people on a chilly Tuesday night in winter. Bravo
I’m a bit behind the times on this one, since the song was released about six months ago, but I only discovered it tonight. It’s quite a mesmerising clip. It evokes lots of memories for those of us who lived through the early 1980s. It’s especially poignant when you realise it’s Boy George on vocals.
cksonThe wet weather continues in Sydney. Dark, cold and wet actually. In fact it’s been raining fairly constantly since about lunchtime yesterday. I first noticed the rain when my friend Colin and I were enjoying a very nice “flash lunch” at Bentley Bar on Crown Street, Surry Hills. It had been overcast for some of the morning, but about half way through our meal the heavens opened up.
As my work is usually fairly intense and fairly constant, it’s a rare pleasure for me to go out for lunch, a pleasure which I usually only enjoy when I’m on holiday. And so when Colin rang earlier this week and suggested we go out for a “nice lunch” one day, I responded with an emphatic yes.
There were three places we discussed as possible locations. The first I don’t recall now. The second was “Bird, Cow, Fish” which I’d been to once, which I thought was good, though a little noisy. And then when Colin suggested “Bentley Bar”, there was no doubt in my mind.
It’s funny, though, since I remember “Bentley Bar” when it was a fairly dodgy Surry Hills pub, with sticky carpet and rock bands. I’ve been to the renovated bar and restaurant on two or three occasions, including one very memorable occasion when Damo and I enjoyed tapas over several hours on a Saturday night.
One of my strongest memories of that night, in particular, was the dried beef dish. The thinly sliced, air-dried beef was to die for. And so when it came to deciding on an entree, I hoped we would have been able to share that. Unfortunately, it was no longer on the menu, and so the waiter suggested jamon (dried ham) from Spain instead. It was a great suggestion and just the perfect start to the meal.
As we cast our eyes down the menu, we were impressed with what was on offer. Duck? Oh yeah, I love duck. A vegetarian risotto? Yeah, maybe. I ended up ordering the beef cheeks, while Colin ordered the pork neck.
The beef cheek (s), served with an accompany red-wine based sauce, were tender and tasty. Very enjoyable. Colin’s pork dish was also tender and tasty, arriving on a beautifully decorated plate where the sweet corn puree was laid out in a crescent moon shape. We were both really impressed with the accompanying bubble crackling which both looked great and tasted terrific, without all of the usual accompanying fat.
To accompany the meal, sommelier Nick Hildebrandt suggested three wines of varying prices. Being a little budget conscious, we chose the mid-priced Argentinian wine, the Altos Las Hormigas, Malbec 2005′ which was about forty dollars a bottle. “It will open up”, he told us. And it certainly did, after about fifteen minutes, and was the perfect accompaniment for the meals we had chosen.
The boozing continued last night with farewell drinks for Paul who has decided he never wants to experience winter again, so he’s decided to return to England. As he has a four-year working Visa, I suspect he’ll return when it gets cold there too.
Aside from catching up with a mate earlier today for a coffee, a long walk into town, a walk around the Museum of Contemporary Art, and an afternoon nap, I haven’t really done all that much today. I had planned to start reading the new Armistead Maupin book which continues the much-loved “Tales Of The City” series, but I never quite got around to it. I’ll make an effort, though, this weekend.
The weekend? Well, I’m going out to catch up with Graeme and Andrew which we have promised ourselves will not be a repeat of the other week. I’ve also got a fifitieth birthday party to attend this weekend – it’s a worry don’t you think when your friends and workmates turn fifty? – and I might spend a few hours tomorrow at the State Library doing some family history research.
Holidays are good, aren’t they? Despite the weather…
I spoke tonight with the incredibly inspiring Bianca Bassett for The Limb Shift podcast. We ended up chatting well beyond our scheduled time because her story is just so captivating. Here is a little glimpse into her journey—I hope it gives you a taste of the powerful conversation coming your way when the podcast launches this October.
The beachy vibe of Lakes Entrance in Victoria Australia, had pretty much always been home to Bianca Bassett. At thirty-six, she was living out a familiar dream, running a local cafe filled with the rich aroma of good coffee and a relaxed, coastal energy. She was a mother in a busy blended family, raising five children alongside her husband. Life was full, fast, and predictable—until a routine day at work changed everything.
“I just felt really flat, like, oh, sort of like before you get the flu, you know, you feel achy and a little bit unwell,” Bianca recalled. It was her twelve-year-old son who noticed her appearance, prompting her to see a GP. Even as she was directed to the local hospital, her maternal instincts took over: “I said, okay, I’ll go to hospital, but I need to go home and cook my family dinner first, which I did… it’s a mum thing, right? We just keep we keep going through. We keep working through”.
By that night, she was admitted. Her condition rapidly deteriorated, leading to an emergency airlift to Melbourne and an induced coma that lasted three and a half weeks. She had contracted Zygomycosis, a rare fungal lung infection with a less than five percent survival rate, caused by a mould occasionally found in environments like hospital bathrooms.
To save her life, doctors had to secure special permission from Canberra for an expensive infusion. While she fought the infection, a deep vein thrombosis formed in her leg. Complicated by a rare, lifelong blood condition called pyruvate kinase deficiency, her doctors faced an absolute ultimatum: leg or life.
When Bianca finally woke up, her reality had completely shifted. “The feeling that I had from a leg perspective, when I woke up, it felt like I was hanging dead, hanging under the bed,” she said. It took a few days to process that her leg was gone, but she refused to let grief anchor her: “I was never really sad about it”.
Instead, she relied heavily on her loved ones and her regional community. “I’m really fortunate to live in regional Victoria where if someone’s having a tough time, the whole town gets behind you,” she noted, fondly remembering how neighbours drove her family to Melbourne or cooked meals for them.
Rehabilitation in regional Victoria lasted three months, a period where she had to rebuild entirely lost muscle mass to learn to walk with a prosthetic. In that protective bubble, she bonded deeply with other patients, but returning home was terrifying. “I was really scared to come home because you do have a sense of safety in rehab,” she admitted, recalling her anxiety about driving, navigating a small kitchen, and being a mother again.
The transition back into society brought unexpected hurdles, including blatant discrimination when she applied for an administrative role. Upon asking for a reasonable adjustment for her wheelchair, she was bluntly rejected. “They turned around and said, ‘oh, we’re really sorry, your wheelchair will get in the way. We’re not going to give you an interview,'” Bianca recounted. Though shocked, she pushed forward, eventually working for five years with Get Skilled Access, an advocacy consultancy.
Now forty-six, Bianca faces new complexities, navigating perimenopause as an amputee, which causes her stump to unpredictably change sizes. Yet her outlook remains firmly grounded.
She and her husband have bought a caravan, ready to explore the country despite the lack of accessible designs.
Reflecting on her decade-long journey, her greatest piece of wisdom is to appreciate existence at its most basic level. “Don’t sweat the small stuff,” she urged. “When you come out of a coma, it’s almost like you’re a child and you’re learning all of these new things again… I wish it wouldn’t take trauma or stories like this… to give them that wake up call. I wish we didn’t have to go through that. I wish we just held on to it from childhood, but we don’t. But we should”.
The audio of the interview with Bianca will appear in The Limb Shift podcast, launching on YouTube, Spotify and Apple podcasts during Amputee Awareness Week in Australia, October 2026.
“Where do you feel like eating? Is Red Chilli okay?” my friend Kate asked me via text yesterday.
Of course, Red Chilli was okay. It’s one of our favourite places to eat in Sydney. We’ve eaten at the Chinatown venue on many occasions, and last week we dined at their venue on Glebe Point Road. We both love the food they offer, as it’s tasty, it’s well-priced, and we’ve never left feeling hungry.
Although we have some favourites, especially the chicken chilli dish, tonight we expanded our repertoire somewhat by having some dumplings as an entry and a smoked ham dish. Both were excellent.
Smoked Ham at Red Chilli in Sydney
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Looking too straight or, perhaps, looking like an undercover cop trying to play tourist? 😉
Yes maybe, though there was a massive operation a couple of months ago to clean up the “laneway boys” with, I think, a 10km exclusion zone as part of their bail.
Looking too straight or, perhaps, looking like an undercover cop trying to play tourist? 😉
Yes maybe, though there was a massive operation a couple of months ago to clean up the “laneway boys” with, I think, a 10km exclusion zone as part of their bail.