This is a picture of a picture of Ken Blake on his way to beating Giacomo Agostini at Laverton. It’s from a print hanging on my wall and was given to me by photographer Rob Lewis just after the race meeting (at a time when things were somewhat better between us). It was too big to fit on the scanner without being a bit arty with weird angles, so I took a pic with my phone. Not perfect, but okay for the purposes for now.
Questions from Mysterious Businessmen
The financial pressures on Murray Nankervis must have been enormous. This was a big-ticket event. So, where did the money, or, at least, the promise of it, come from? The Hartwell club didn’t have the sort of money required and the hurriedly arranged company clearly did not. Yet Nankervis was spending like a sailor on shore leave. When he told me he was going to bring former Aussie World Champ Kel Caruthers from the States to be a guest – this seemed to be another of his ‘aha’ moments – I was very surprised. While I hadn’t given too much thought to the logistics and finances involved with bringing three world champs, and many others, and their entourages for the meeting, the need to unnecessarily splash cash surprised me. It was a nice idea but not necessary to the successful running of an event that was clearly an expensive exercise. There was money available from somewhere for this, but not for a company to handle security?
Shortly after I’d been appointed, Murray rang me and said he had someone, a lady, he wanted to work with me. He explained that she was a show-business PR person and might have some good contacts. I saw merit in that and met with her. She was a very knowledgeable, confident and likeable lady who made it abundantly clear that I was to call the shots and that she would help where possible. She proved to be very helpful. I didn’t ask, but I assumed she was somehow personally known to Murray.
A week or so later she called and asked if I could go to a meeting in the city and could I ask Ken Blake to go with me? There were some people who wanted to talk with us about the TT and could we not mention this to anyone? Naturally, I was a tad intrigued, as was Ken. He asked what was happening? I said I hadn’t a clue.
So we went into in the city and met with four men. Hmm, I thought after introductions. Why are we meeting with these show-business people? One gentleman, a name well known to me, did most of the talking.
Some general motorcycling queries – the state of racing in Australia, would there be much interest in the TT, stuff like that – preceded the vital question put to us, which, in a surprising moment, took us totally by surprise; what did we think of Murray Nankervis?
At that stage, as far as we knew, everything seemed to be going smoothly for the event and, while we didn’t rush forward with lavish praise for him, we looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. We had no reason at the time to give a negative report. So we didn’t. He seemed genuine. Things seemed to be happening. They thanked us and we left.
Once away from them, Blakey and I said roughly the same thing at the same time; what the fuck was that all about? I don’t recall thinking too much about it later. I was working like a one-armed paper hanger and had no time to worry about anything other than my job. It wasn’t the only thing I had on the go at the time, though it was of highest priority, of course. And I was having a little bit of fun doing it.
The meeting with the businessmen and the involvement of the showbiz PR lady may give a clue to (possible) fingers in the pie or who’s hovering nearby. I didn’t question her about it and, as far as I know, Ken, like me, never mentioned the meeting to anyone and we never spoke about it again afterwards. You’re the only person, other than everyone else, who knows.
I don’t know if these businessmen were involved in financing Nankervis or not, or if they had anything at all to do with the TT other than showing interest. Nankervis certainly didn’t mention it but he must have had some tie-in somewhere if the showbiz PR lady/showbiz promoter scenario is at it seems. Either way, the meeting Ken and I attended was, um, interesting.
The Cash Splash
Early in the week after the race meeting, with the fall-out from the debacle building to a crescendo, I got a phone call from Thomas Coffey. He asked if I could go to the Southern Cross Hotel, pick up Giacomo Agostini and take him to an address in Doncaster. Bring an invoice for your services. So, I called the hotel and picked Giacomo up. Initially he gave me a angry blast, thinking I was part of the company. I quietly told him that I was a mere contractor, had people to pay and stood to lose money too, and he relaxed. Clearly, this was not the time for me to tell him that I had named my dog, Ago, after him.
We arrived at the meeting venue. Recollections are of a dingy room with a committee of glum faces sitting around a table, Murray Nankervis hovering nearby. We didn’t have to wait long. I handed over the invoice, which included fees to various people I’d engaged, including the PR lady. Thankfully, I received it all. I had a ‘holy shit’ moment when I was handed the cash. I felt I was part of a conspiracy of sorts, I guess, and recall feeling a little guilty or maybe just a bit naughty. I wasn’t on top of what insolvency meant other than going out of business in a big way, but I was pretty sure you’re not supposed to hand money out willy nilly.
I wasn’t privy to discussions or what happened when Ago was called over but, judging by his demeanour on the way back to the hotel, he seemed satisfied with the results of his meeting. Still, I thought mention of my dog just might not be appropriate.
So, there’s my bit to add to the mystery of the event. Make what you will of it. I was thankful, of course, that at least Nankervis and his crew felt somewhat morally obligated to look after me. I have no idea who else got cash. I’m no accountant but I can’t help feeling there was a whole lot more money out there than was officially accounted for. Questions were asked in parliament but the noise about possible wrongdoings and shenanigans was very short-lived. After all, it was just a bloody motorbike race.
1 thought on “1976 Australian TT – part 2 – A Secret Meeting”
You know now, of course, that the only person who actually ended up being paid what they were owed, was Kiwi racer, John Boote. Early on in the weekend, John started having suspicions that something wasn’t kosher and so, as soon as the racers were over, he went to Nankervis’s office (which, I think he said, was a caravan) and demanded to be paid immediately. MN shuffled and hem’d and haw’d but John insisted. Then MN relented and said that he would give John a cheque there and then. John refused and demanded to be paid in cash. MN was clearly painted into a corner and grudgingly handed over the rather large sum of money that JB was owed in cash. JB said he left in a hurry, furtively looking over his shoulder. As it turns out, it was all for nothing because, when JB arrived home in New Zealand, he found that the fees and duties that he owed for bringing the RG500 back to NZ more than ate up the prize money that he had been paid by MN. This story was told to me directly by JB at the Island Classic a few years ago, I have shared it with a few people since and nobody has questioned the veracity of John’s recollection of events.
Thanks for this fascinating article. I was there that weekend and, while I never knew about the politics, I loved the event and the racing.