Death on the Wharves

Dean and Jane on their wedding day

Jane was in bed when the police knocked on the door around three in the morning.

"It was just before Dean was due home," she said. "They told me he was dead. I just went into shock. I have hardly any memory of the next three weeks. Going to mortuary - that was the hardest."

Adelaide wharfie Dean Robinson, 58, died in the arms of his workmates on board the Cape Donington in Port Adelaide on the night shift of June 13.

The veteran wharfie and member of the branch OH&S committee, knew the job was dangerous. He often spoke to family and workmates about it.

"It was a hell of a shock," family spokesman and nephew Steve Robinson told the local media. "My uncle was concerned about safety on the job. He'd said so. But it was the one thing we weren't expecting to happen."

Dean had left for work early that day. He always did.

"He had so many friends he'd stop by and chat," said Jane. "He liked to talk. He rang in as always in his meal break that night to see how we were. It was freezing cold and our son was asleep by the heater."

The ship was late. Dean was working an extended shift.

"He was happy," Jane said. "There'd be more work and we could get the bedroom extension paid off. 'I'll be home at 3.30,' he said."

That was the last time they spoke.

At around 1.30am Dean was working below the ship's crane down the hatch discharging steel when the seven tonne sling of steel pipes swung out of control crushing his chest against the ship's hold. The bulkhead was right behind him. He had nowhere to go. Dean's mates witnessed the accident. They yelled out for an ambulance. A close mate held him in his arms. Two others were by his side. They tried to make him comfortable and stop the bleeding, putting him in the recovery position, making sure his mouth was clear and he could breathe, wrapping their jackets around him, keeping him warm. They talked to him trying to keep him conscious, saying 'hang on, Dean, hang on, mate'. Dean kept drifting in and out of consciousness. The hatchman called down, telling him a joke. Dean smiled. Then died. Still in the arms of his mates.

They sat with him until police arrived. The crane operator lifted him out of the hold and the shift stood by and gave him a guard of honour as his body was carried to the waiting ambulance.

All work stopped and did not resume until the following day after state safety inspectors examined the ship and traumatised workers received counselling.

"This tragedy has deeply affected all workers on the vessel at the time and all of Dean's workmates at Patrick and in the South Australian stevedoring community," said MUA Branch Secretary Jamie Newlyn.

"The Cape Donington was the first joint venture of labour by Patrick and Toll Stevedores and the mood was very positive on the job to start off," he said. "The vessel was delayed and the workers were in a great frame of mind and were pulling together to make a success of the first of many such proposed joint labour ventures."

Meanwhile Dean's widow Jane and their dependent son Michael, 25 were 'slowly making progress' following the loss. Delays in releasing his body "knocks the wind out of you and meant the family were living in limbo", said Steve.

"We would have been married 35 years this July," said Jane. "He was a nice looking guy. We met on a blind date. I was 18 and a half. Dean was just back from the Snowy. His friend was dating another nurse and suggested we join them. We went out to the cinema and saw Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Dean bought me chocolates. We did so many things together. He liked to fish and scuba dive. Dean was happy working. He had no plans to retire. He loved working on the ships. He loved his job, he loved the water."

Sympathy messages and condolences from dockworkers' unions came from around the world. The International Longshore Workers Union Coast Committee forwarded a donation to the family with their deepest sympathy.

"The generosity has been overwhelming from ports, vessels, workplaces, individuals and branches," said Jamie. "The SA Branch would like to thank our family - the MUA - for the generous contributions that still keep on coming in to help Dean's family cope a little better in the immediate future."

All in all the union raised more than $40,000. And Toll has offered to equal the amount.

"Dean was laid to rest on June 20 in a very touching ceremony," said Jamie. "His love for his family and affinity for the sea was closely highlighted and all concerned have gained some closure after attending the service."

Jamie said fellow SA workers, the waterfront community and the trade union movement were all devastated by the tragic accident. Both the union and his family hope their loss will translate into more rigorous and safe work practices.

"I think obviously if something can come out of his death it would be to make it a safe place to work," said Steve. "To know it was not a wasted sacrifice and lessons were learnt. That's what he would have wanted."

"It is a dangerous job," said Jane. "There were plenty of near misses he told me about. Dean was on the OH&S committee. One night he argued about workers climbing up the steel coils without a harness. He told them they were bloody idiots and refused to work until they got the harness out. That's how careful he was."

Jane, who is a registered nurse, said the hardest thing ahead was going back to work and having to see injured people. She still can't watch the news or read the papers.

"Dean had just started on an house extension, it was to be a new bedroom for us both," she said. "Now it's only half finished. His mates said they'd come and help with the painting."

Jane especially thanked the union and members for the financial and emotional support. She also wanted to thank her family, especially her older sister who stayed with her to help her through the loss.

SafeWork SA and the police are investigating the death and will be reporting to the coroner.