What the hell is going on with online censorship? What will the proposed online filter really mean for everyday Australians, and is derailing such a filter the best solution to Australia’s censorship problems?

Story: Meg White
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Some of the world’s most dangerous jobs are carried out right here in Australia. Denise Mooney meets the men who risk everything at their 9 to 5

Around the world, aircraft pilots feature prominently in fatality statistics. Last year, 30 people died while carrying out aerial work, flight training or working on private flights, according to the Australian Transport Safety Bureau.

Fergus Ponder is a flight instructor with Becker Helicopters on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast, but during the summer season he’ll be fighting bushfires in Queensland and New South Wales. Up until last year, the pilot was based in the US city of Chicago, where he spent most of the year fighting fires from Florida all the way to Montana. The former stockman became a helicopter pilot 13 years ago, after a visit to America. “From the first moment we got translational lift, I knew it was exactly the right fit,” he says. The 42-year-old has since flown Agusta A-109s, R22s and, his favourite, the Sikorsky S-58T.

When you’re fighting fires, the dangers include strong winds and downdraughts, and low flying near treetops. “You put yourself in these situations,” Ponder tells us. “If you think too much about it, you’re in the wrong job.”

But some days you have no choice, like the day he was preparing to make a drop in the Sawtooth Mountains in Montana. “I messed it up,” he says plainly. “I started to descend too quickly. I did a fast turn and the next thing you know, down it comes.” The helicopter dropped about 15 metres, but luckily not all the way to the trees. “Your stomach comes up into your mouth. In the moments following it, you start thinking about family and whether it’s really worth it. As fun as it is, there is that inherent danger.”

There are always pilots who don’t make it home from work: “A few years ago in northern California, the guys on the next helipad to us got tasked with a mission. We could have got it, but they did. They were delivering cargo to some crew on the hill. He put his load down in a clearing, but he drifted and bumped into a tree. It can happen.”

Dealing with events like this can be difficult. Ponder always calls his wife. “She knows when I’m going through a tough time, and she’ll talk me through it.” To be a good pilot, you need to be a glass-half-full type of guy who doesn’t think too much about what can go wrong. “I just get a buzz from flying,” smiles Ponder. “I always start singing. I get a lot of satisfaction from it.”

Some of the world’s most dangerous jobs are carried out right here in Australia. Denise Mooney meets the men who risk everything at their 9 to 5

In 2006, the world held its breath as miners Todd Russell and Brant Webb became trapped after part of a mine in Beaconsfield, Tasmania collapsed. About 130,000 Australians work in mining, and it ranks highly among the worlds most dangerous professions. In worldwide comparisons, mining and quarrying had the highest fatality rates in most countries, including Australia.

What Chris Cheal doesn’t know about mining could probably fit on the back of a postage stamp. For 15 years, he has been mining and prospecting opals in Lightning Ridge in outback New South Wales. It’s wild west country, where a bloke can still peg a claim and have a go. Tumbling opal prices have made miners reluctant to sell their gems, so Cheal has been working three 12-hour shifts a week in a coal mine to supplement his income.

You’ve got to know your stuff working with drill rigs, diggers and agitators. Cheal once came a cropper when a hydraulic digger weighing more than a tonne fell on top of him. Luckily, he escaped with just an arm injury. Miners have died and lost limbs in this environment. He says the first time he climbed down an underground shaft was challenging. “It was a weird feeling,” he reveals. “But once I was on the ground, it didn’t worry me. A cave-in would be the worst. We climb down shafts that are up to 90 feet [27m] deep.”

Cheal has since learnt to look after himself while working his claim: “It’s dangerous if you take short cuts. If you do, sooner or later you’re going to get hurt. It’s only a matter of time, and there are no second chances.” Despite the risks, Cheal loves what he does. Coal mining pays well and opal mining could make him rich one day. “It’s pretty exciting because you don’t know what you’re going to come home with.”

Some of the world’s most dangerous jobs are carried out right here in Australia. Denise Mooney meets the men who risk everything at their 9 to 5

Millions have been enthralled by television shows like Deadliest Catch and Trawlermen, fascinated by the dramas of working on the high seas. But fishermen are not the only ones taking risks to earn a buck. In 2006, 270 people died on the job in Australia. The industries with the highest number of deaths were farming, forestry, fishing, transportation and construction.

Discovery Channel’s hit show about Alaskan fishermen isn’t called Deadliest Catch for nothing. According to the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organisation, fishing at sea is the most dangerous occupation in the world, with an estimated 24,000 people dying each year, out of a total 15 million workers. That’s 65 a day. And there’s little evidence to suggest these numbers are decreasing.

John Hammond, a rock lobster and king crab fisherman from Tasmania, is a fan of the show and says it paints a realistic picture of life at sea. His two fishing boats spend weeks at a time in the most dangerous waters in Australia, off the west coast of Tasmania. “We work in similar weather to the crab fishermen in Alaska,” he says. “We regularly get winds of 60 or 70 knots out there.”

The 59-year-old is one of only a handful of operators to fish these seas during rough weather. Reduced quotas mean the crew will try and pull in the big catches while the price is high in winter. Despite the treacherous conditions and a few “close shaves”, Hammond hasn’t lost anyone, though others have perished over the years: “It’s only a matter of time before you get a flogging.”

Hammond’s boats travel up to 40 nautical miles out from shore, so when a storm hits there’s no chance of making it to safety. Instead, they drop anchor and wait until it passes. “You’re bouncing up and down all night, jumping five or six metres,” Hammond tells Penthouse. “It’s like being on a big dipper.”

Huge rogue waves are a fisherman’s worst nightmare. Hauling 100kg lobster pots from the sea bed at one o’clock in the morning is not for wimps. “It’s very physically demanding. When you’re in the dark in the heavy weather, you can’t see the big waves. The boat’s rolling around violently, and it can be zero degrees with winds of 20 or 30 knots.”

Hammond’s 25-year-old son is the fourth generation to work in the family’s 100-year-old business. Recent economic woes have seen local tradies turn to fishing, but Hammond says they don’t usually last long: “You need to be brought up to it.” Hammond spends a lot of time taking care of his boats, checking alarms, diesel and electrics. It could sink in 15 minutes if something goes wrong. “We’re out here by ourselves, so if something goes pear-shaped there’s no-one to save you.”

If TV series Underbelly is anything to go by, a life of crime is a heady mix of violence, fast cars and faster women. But if you live by the sword, you can expect to die by the sword. Or in the case of today’s crims, at least get yourself a lucrative book deal.

Story: Denise Mooney

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WHO YOU GONNA CALL?

In the dead of night, paranormal investigators venture into abandoned buildings and cemeteries in search of eerie clues. One is a saleswoman who converses with spirits, another is a former construction worker who fights ghostly assailants, and then there’s a father of two who hosts a reality show with a difference… Story: Denise Mooney

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If acting is in the blood, then the cinematic haemophilia suffered when Hollywood brothers are cast together puts slasher movies to shame
Story: Dominic Cadden (continue reading…)

David Carradine and Michael Hutchence. Pic credits at bottom of article

INXS singer Michael Hutchence died while doing it. As did actor David Carradine. Australian Penthouse investigates the obscure, yet often deadly, practice of autoerotic asphyxia
Story: Tracey Parry (continue reading…)

Man Hunter

Robert K. Ressler studies serial killers. His idea that serial killers can act in predictable patterns, potentially providing law enforcement agencies an opportunity to catch them before they kill again, and his unparalleled access to society’s most prolific murderers, resulted in the creation of the FBI’s groundbreaking Behavioral Sciences Unit.

Interview: Suzan Ryan (continue reading…)

House of the Dead: Overkill

By Josh Jennings

POV zombie shoot-em-up video game House of the Dead: Overkill, bears the distinction of using the most f-bombs in gaming history, according to the Guinness World Records.  Pick up the controller, spend five minutes getting trigger-happy on the relentless flock of zombies mobbing your screen and just see if you don’t wind up cursing like an NWA rapper with PMS.

That Overkill is classified suitable for the 15-plus market in Australia (while being restricted to 18-year-olds in the Unites States in Britain) might seem like good news for the Australian gamer kids who have just turned 15, but not everybody in Australia is chuffed with the current censorship laws.  Under these laws, the adult population is forbidden access to games such as Leisure Suit Larry: Magna Cum Laude (a T&A extravaganza, featuring a slew of perky animated characters and Benny Hill-esque shenanigans). (continue reading…)

Porn pushed anal sex out of the closet nearly 20 years ago, but that doesn’t mean we talk about at the pub—or does it? Story: Humphrey Snorts (continue reading…)