‘Welcome to Fremantle’: A tale of two cities in WA’s famous port

It was one of those balmy summer afternoons that makes those of us fortunate to live in Fremantle the envy of those who don’t.

A gentle sea breeze was blowing away the heat of the day; there was a nice vibe coming off the cafes, restaurants and bars; and, in an hour or so, the sun slipping into the Indian Ocean would create a fiery masterpiece ready for framing and hanging in a gallery.

So after a few laps at Fremantle Pool, one of the loveliest facilities of its kind in the country, we headed to the West End to take in the free spectacle of the sinking sun casting a golden hue over what is said to be the best-preserved 19th century port cityscape in the world.

We then walked through the lovely Notre Dame University precinct in the direction of the iconic Fishing Boat Harbour, where Fremantle’s traditional seafaring industry has formed an easy alliance with the hospitality sector. This is the Fremantle we all cherish and why it is at the top of the travel plans of interstate and overseas visitors.

We didn’t make it across the Esplanade because standing between us and the fish restaurants and fashionable watering holes was a young man rolling around on the grass screaming in agony, his face a bloody mess after copping a beating and his body shaking madly from what appeared to be a fit.

“This happens every time we come here,” sighed one of the young Samaritans kneeling at the side of the traumatised man, containing and comforting him. “Welcome to Fremantle.”

After the police and an ambulance arrived we made a beeline for the Cappuccino Strip for an espresso. Or something stronger.

What greeted us was equally unsettling. There were boarded-up shops on both sides of the street, rough sleepers in doorways and, at the top of the High Street Mall, another distressed young man receiving attention.

“Meth-head,” sneered one passer-by who clearly had seen it to many times.

This time we really did need a drink, so we went to the rooftop bar of the National Hotel, ordered a couple of beers and settled in for the sunset and one of the most beautiful views you’ll find anywhere in the world (astutely there is no view down to the top of the boarded-up shops of the High Street Mall). After our odyssey – all of around 20 minutes – we were back in the Fremantle of tourist brochures and websites.

Of course, every city has golden and its ghastly bits; Perth Lord Mayor Basil Zempilas gets his nose rubbed in this kind of stuff every day.

What’s so startling about Fremantle is that its celebrated features – the beautifully preserved heritage-listed buildings, the interesting eateries and quirky shops, the breathtaking views of ships rolling into a working port – sit cheek-by-jowl with decay, despair and destitution.

You can’t walk 50 metres in Fremantle without confronting something that makes you wonder how the hell it was recently ranked as one of the best tourist destinations in the world.

“Fremantle lucked out because the developers were too busy destroying St Georges Terrace.”

David Parker

To make sense of Fremantle – the question of it being a diamond or a bit of a dump dogs me – I sat down for a coffee in the heart of the West End heritage area with a couple of keen students of the port city: former Freo MLA David Parker, who recently returned to his old stomping ground after many years living and working in Hong Kong, and Fremantle Society president John Dowson.

Both agreed that the contradictions tearing at the fabric of Fremantle thread back to the 1960s and 70s, when the activists prevented developers ripping out the city’s historic heart only to face the even more profound transformation that came with containerisation.

“Fremantle lucked out because the developers were too busy destroying St Georges Terrace,” Parker said.

“They thought Fremantle was a backwater and had no interest in it. By the time they became interested there were all sorts of heritage restrictions in place.”

But there was not stopping the changes in shipping, said Parker, who represented Fremantle from 1980 to 1990 and served as deputy premier.

“There used to be thousands of waterside workers in Fremantle. Pubs used to open at six in the morning to cater for workers coming off shift.

“This building,” Parker said, looking up at the structure in which our cafe is situated, “was His Majesty’s Hotel. I remember it be very rowdy and sometime violent.”

While the waterside workers gave the place a reputation for being rough and dangerous their departure loosened its economic underpinnings, leaving Fremantle to rise and fall on the waters of economic turbulence and social and cultural change.

It got a boost from the America’s Cup in the 1980s, suffered badly during the interest rate hike of the 1990s, and got a kick in the pants from the arrival of Notre Dame.

“But even Notre Dame has not delivered the expected boost,” Dowson argued.

“Notre Dame said there would be a thousand students living in Fremantle. A few of them came – they used to kick footballs up and down my street – but it proved too expensive to house students in their buildings.

“In Fremantle things go in 10-year cycles, something comes along that injects energy and money. And then it goes away and we’re back to square one. Like the America’s Cup. We never seem to be able to move forward and make real progress.”

Parker and Dowson agreed crime was a major problem for Fremantle, as in many cities around Australia and the world.

It makes life uncomfortable for those living there, damages businesses and, perhaps worst of all, stops the in-flow of visitors, which also hurt businesses.

“People just don’t feel safe in parts of Fremantle,” Dowson said.

But an even bigger problem for Fremantle than the crime, the drug abuse and the rough sleepers is the drastic decline in retail caused by online shopping and the spread of mega-stores and shopping malls in the surrounding areas.

Dowson said big chains like Bunnings and Officeworks destroyed the smaller shops which were once part of Fremantle’s attractiveness and charm.

“It was also known for the fresh food shopping, the butchers and the greengrocers run by migrant families,” he said.

“Not only did they perform a valuable service – they had wonderful quality – they also brought a character to the place. That has disappeared.”

While Fremantle faced similar challenges to many urban centres in the age of online shopping both Parker and Dowson agreed that maintaining the port city and bringing intelligence and good taste to development could fulfil Fremantle’s potential to be a desired destination for local, national and international visitors and a place that justified its high real-estate prices.

“It comes down to quality,” Dowson said.

“There is a city law that demands shopkeepers keep the pavements clean. But it is never enacted. It’s a simple thing. Let’s get the city looking better.”

Parker, who spends part of each year in France, agreed it wouldn’t take much to clean the place up.

“All over France they have these machines to clean the footpaths. They have dogs and there is shit everywhere. The French are no better than us. What they are better at is cleaning things up. Sometimes it is just about maintaining what you have.”

Development is also a major issue for Fremantle, with those wishing to modernise the city clashing with organisations such as Dowson’s Fremantle Society, which has for decades fought to maintain the very cityscape that makes the place attractive to visitors in the first place.

Dowson was heavily involved in the pushback that stopped the movie studio on Victoria Quay going ahead (most now agree it wasn’t a great idea).

Both Parker and Dowson maintained that development must be smart and classy, with a clever and aesthetically pleasing integration of the old and the new. There are high hopes for the Elder’s Wool Stores, which has been purchased by Hesperia, the property developer behind such celebrated makeovers as the State Buildings in the Perth CBD, The Rechabite in Northbridge and Coogee Common.

According to Parker, the two new buildings at the heart of the city – the Walyalup Civic Centre (which houses the offices of the city of Fremantle) and the shopping and entertainment hub FOMO – represent the best and worst of development in the port city. Once again – a tale of two cities.

“The new council chambers is a very attractive building, but then one next to it, FOMO, is one of the ugliest buildings I have ever seen. And that alleyway that runs between the two. That’s that’s an invitation to crime if I have ever seen one,” Parker said.

But there are positive signs, both maintained, pointing to packed restaurants and bars on a Friday or Saturday night: “But during the day it is a ghost town. This is the problem.”

The state government and council’s focus must be on making Fremantle an attractive place to live and work.

“And it could be,” Parker said.

“Tech companies like Apple and Google like campuses and Fremantle would be perfect. We already have this. All they need to do is take over the space and use it now.”

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