John Ellicott - Waterhouse & Smith: The power of two racing dynasties

This edition published in 2014 by Hardie Grant Books

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Copyright John Ellicott 2014

A Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available from the catalogue of the National Library of Australia at www.nla.gov.au
Waterhouse & Smith
eISBN 9781743581803

Cover design by Luke Causby/Blue Cork Design

Out in the grey cheerless chill of the morning light,
Out on the track where the night shades still lurk,
Ere the first gleam of the sungods returning light
Round come the racehorses early at work.

Only a Jockey, BANJO PATERSON.

CONTENTS

T hanks to Pam Brewster, Rod Morrison, Sally Moss, Luke Causby, Bill Whittaker, Mark Whittaker, Tom Spider Barker, John Waterhouse, Tony King, Peter Haley, Steve Brem, Pauline Blanche, Percy Sykes, Ronnie Quinton, Peter Briggs, Brian Evesson, John Spence, Arthur Harris, John Schreck, Snowy Ledingham, Sister Mary Darcy, Pat Smith, Clare Smith, John Smith, Gladys Myott, Gwen Smith, Harold Franklin, Bob Ellicott QC, Colleen Ellicott, Robert Weber SC, Trish Lenehan, Peter Lenehan, Bob Thomsen, Myffy Rae, John Brown, Malcolm Johnston, Peter Cook, Kevin Moses, Kevin Langby, Hugh Bowman, Norman Waymouth, John Ford, Rose Ings, Ted Swinton, Molly McSweeney, Keith Free, Ian Buxton, Mel Clifford, Bob Charley, Gai Fardell, Richard Verreker, Bruce McHugh, Roslyn Madrell, Tim Donnelly, Wendy Fahey, Don Storey, Gerald Flick, Alan Bell, Andrew Baddock, Peter Payne, Kevin White, David Hains, David Waterhouse, Richard Lawson, Dave Murray, Lawso, June Dally-Watkins, Gerry Harvey, Nash Rawiller, Tania Rouse, Robyn Hartney, Ray Murrihy, Mark Brassel, Blake Shinn, Chris Roots, Peter Reynolds, Jack Bongiorno, the Green Gate Hotel (Killara), the Australian Jockey Club, Stanton Library; and, of course, a very special thanks to my family: Edwina, Jasper and Alexander.

I also wish to thank the large number of journalists who either allowed me to use quotes from their stories or helped in the preparation of various parts of the book. Bill Whittaker, a former racing editor of the Sydney Morning Herald, helped invaluably with the Tommy Smith chapters. Thank you so much Bill; there are few people with such a depth of knowledge of horses, races and racing events of the era from 1945 to the present. Many other journalists and Bills racing colleagues helped. Thanks to Max Presnell, also a Sydney Morning Herald racing editor, who saw Tommy Smith at close hand. Keith Robbins, former racing editor of the Daily Telegraph, helped with the Tulloch chapter, with some great recollections of his reporting on the champion. Bart Sinclair, racing editor of the Courier Mail, was a great help in recreating the day of the Fine Cotton drama, as was also former Courier Mail racing writer Peter Cameron.

Thanks to the journalists and those in the racing media who let me use their quotes or gave reminiscences: Jane Cadzow, Caroline Wilson, Peter FitzSimons, Rod Gallegos, Janet Fife-Yeomans, Robert Craddock, Alex Mitchell, Stephen J Lacey, Glenn Munsie, Ray Thomas and Craig Thomson.

A special thanks to the Turf Monthly for allowing me to use material from Warwick Hobsons excellent piece on Tommy Smith. And to Arn Rogers; to those who gave interviews on Gais fashion stakes: Edwina McCann, Victoria Collison and Anna Brodie; and to to Bob Bottom, for permission to use material from his book Connections, and also Evan Whitton.

Journalists are, and will continue to be, the important on-the-scene recorders of our history and we should protect the integrity of their profession with all our hearts and minds. Cheers to you all from the Evening Star.

A line of top-of-the-range Mercedes are crammed in at the rear of a small North Sydney office block humble premises for the hub of one of Australias major bookmakers. From the back alley you walk through the dimly lit hallway past the frosted glass panelled doors of small offices the kind of place where you might bump into a private detective or an accountant down on their luck then ascend a few flights of creaky stairs. From this cold entrance, things change in the office, with bright tourism fliers for the Pacific paradise Tonga, and a plaque that says this is the honorary consul for Tongas office, and you wonder if you are in the right place. Then, sitting in the waiting room, you watch employees flitting busily from room to room. Ive been there many times, usually with a photographer for a newspaper or seeking a quick comment, and the incongruity has always struck me. This time Ive come to Waterhouse Central on my own business.

Once stopped in their tracks, the Waterhouses are very friendly. They are all the things people say about them urbane, charming and interesting. Robbie Waterhouse sits at the northern end of two large tables smacked together, its surface stacked with papers, form guides, form assessments. Bill now sits on the southern end of the table. Once, when Bill was largely in control, it was the other way round, but the dynasty power base has shifted. In the far south-west corner of the room, Robbies sister Louise holds court, ensconced in accountancy papers, bills and various matters involved in running the family businesses. A portrait of ancestor Henry Waterhouses English father William hangs on the wall, gazing down on Waterhouse matters like an overseer. (An elusive portrait of Henry Waterhouse is still being pursued, last sighted at some Sydney Saturday market.)

Robbie talks enthusiastically, hurriedly, almost crashing one word into the other. Louise is more deliberate, with a refined accent. Bill, now in his eighties, walks in. He has lost a little of the sharp mind that made him the dominator of the Sydney betting ring all those years ago but he still carries the Waterhouse air of self-confidence.

Sign this cheque please, Dad, Louise asks him. Sure, says Bill, without even looking at who its for and how much. He trusts her implicitly. He wheels, then spies me from a great height as I sit in the guests seat thats a little lower than the others; this is just as the seating arrangement has been for more than fifty years. Bill leaves without uttering a word to me. Then Tom walks in. Robbies son is the new aspiring Waterhouse in the bookmaking business. At ease, he has a wide smile with shining teeth. He says very little, just looks and observes. Tom is now in a bookmaking partnership with Bill. The leviathan schools the minnow.

I ask Tom whether he went to the Snake Gully Cup at Gundagai this year, as the Waterhouses do most years. No, he says. I had a friends party in Bermuda. Fair enough: Id give Gundagai the flick for Bermuda too.

Later, at lunch in central North Sydney, Tom talks cricket and Robbie and Louise continue their mutual arguments on racing issues. When I was sitting in on stewards hearings, reporting for a newspaper on Robbies transgressions for nearly a decade, I watched them remain silent amid all the glare of cameras and reporters. Now I can hardly get a word in. I finally get my chance.