Glenn Sterle (WA, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Hansard source

It's timely that I speak on one of my favourite subjects. Everyone in this building knows—everyone knows!—my passion for the Australian transport industry and our supply chains. No-one would doubt where I'm coming from and no-one would ever say that I sneak up on them, because I've been coming for 46 years on this angle and I'm not changing now!

I want to talk about some anomalies, particularly on the east coast of Australia. I love the rail industry and I love shipping, when it has Australian seafarers and Australian ships—and there are those poor, exploited foreign seafarers who have finally caught up with their employers and will be paid properly; that's a good thing. We're an island and we rely on transport. I know that this industry is about nine per cent of GDP and that we're integral to every conversation in this nation. I say 'we' because I'm still a truck driver. I still run triple road trains between Perth and Kununurra, and all ports in between. I can't wait to escape here and get out there. I do it for charity; every single cent I earn is passed on to charities of my choice. I don't get to touch the money, and nor do I want to touch the money. My mates say, 'We're so short of truck drivers, if you help us out what charity do you want the money to go to?' A lot of it goes to victims of domestic violence in Aboriginal communities, helping out kids with sporting activities and helping out the old people by supplying them with used furniture—all free of charge. Everyone knows my history with the road transport industry, even up to today, and when I talk about the road transport industry my feet are firmly planted in those steel capped boots at the end of the Kenworth accelerator pedal. And I love every minute of it!

But I want to raise some anomalies while we're here. The average age of our truck drivers now is 53. Think about that: 53 years is the average age. I have to tell you that by the time the men and women out there with a steering wheel in their hands are 53, their bodies are starting to hurt at every angle. They're still sleeping in their trucks in the middle of the summer and still sleeping in their trucks in the middle of winter. Most of us haven't been to university. I say, quite proudly, that it's great for kids who want to, to go to university. I know that back in 1975 the two wasted years of my life were years 11 and 12, because I did not want to be there. I couldn't wait to follow in the footsteps of my father and become a long-distance truck driver. And I'm so proud to say that I didn't leave school, I escaped! A lot of our truckies did the same. And I'm so proud to say that my 32-year-old son is a triple-road-train operator. He's been pulling triple road trains now for 12 years, following in his old man's footsteps.

But I have to say that a lot of us didn't leave school because we were dumbos; a lot of us left school because we just wanted to get out and start working. A lot of us wanted to get into an industry where we could start making a living—where we could start carving out a living—where we could, for goodness sake, even start earning money! And mum couldn't wait for us to get out too, so she could charge us board! So I took this decision by the time I finally reached year 12 that I didn't want to be a brain surgeon, I didn't want to be an archaeologist or a—