Motorscope

Motorscope

Some time around 1972/73 Channel 3 started a motoring programme called Motorscope. It was a fifteen minute segment that aired around noon on a Saturday morning. I thought I'd found a vehicle (excuse the pun) for my creative desires but this was a grand delusion. We had to make do with whatever footage we could scrounge from available resources which were not entirely over-endowed with relevant material.

The "we" was Jim Sullivan, David Samuel and me. David was to play a vital but behind the scenes role in trying to secure advertising for the programme. At the time Jim was a motoring journalist of some repute, had a car accessory business adjacent to his father's tyre business and was also the Newcastle Volvo dealer. I'll not attempt to explain that last paradox. He was also a fierce competitor and relentless in his pursuit of success on or off the track. That he became the longest serving news director in Australian television, a formidable accomplishment in an extremely demanding environment, is an emphatic testament to his tenacity.

In an endeavour to give Motorscope more local relevance Jim was able to extract from management a small stipend to offset that of our own time that we invested in the show which was substantial. In monetary terms we were never going to be fully recompensed. In terms of experience and satisfaction, priceless. It was an embarrassingly small amount but it recognised an important principle. 

For the next eight years we would endeavour to present to Hunter audiences a broad coverage of interesting motoring events from car shows to motorbike races; road tests and personality interviews. And it took us from Maroochy in Qucensland to Launceston in Tasmania. 

The initial opening titles for Motorscope carried what was to become an embarrassing hallmark of my time covering motorsport, a near miss. For the final shot I was trying to capture a low angle shot of a beach buggy enthusiastically spraying sand out as it arced across the dunes north of Stockton. Naturally it had to be spectacular and fill the frame. It took three attempts before I secured the shot I was seeking. Vehicle response in sand can be quite unpredictable at the best of times and on the first two takes the beach buggy understeered in the sand, knocking me over in the process. The large sand tyres and soft sand meant only my pride was damaged. 

Over the years we road tested an eclectic collection of vehicles, not just the usual Holdens and Fords but Lancias, Porches, Landrovers, Jaguars and even a double- decker bus. Then there was the infamous Leyland P76. It  was probably responsible for initiating the loaded enquiry "does my bum look big in this?" And it offered possibly the only opportunity for a male to respond in the affirmative without condemning himself to a celibate future. 

We tested, well Jim tested, I simply pointed the camera, speedway cars and bikes and off-road vehicles, even looking at the Police Driver Training School. The tests were not without incident. On one occasion we had stopped on the side of the road to film a piece to camera about a particular car. So absorbed in what we were doing was a passing motorist that he took out a guide post before refocussing his efforts on the more serious endeavour of driving.

The launch of Holden's Gemini was conducted on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland and Holden had managed to have the Maroochy airport closed for a couple of hours for the launch. Witches hats were strategically placed in a straight line down the runway allowing the scribes to test the suspension and handling on the new cars by pedalling the cars in and out between the hats. At this time Holden was boldly promoting its newly developed 'Radial Tuned Suspension' which it claimed was comparable to European type handling - well better anyway than what Ford offered. To emphasise the point Holden's television advertising was an attempt to further validate their claims.

I was offered a flight in a small plane to get some aerials of the testing. I'm up there! And could this guy fly. We banked over a telegraph pole in a manner that would have done a fighter pilot proud. He asked how close to the cars he could go and I simply said; "Just don't put the wheel through the roof". But he sure tried. The stall speed of a Cessna is around 65 knots which is a little quicker than the cars were able to weave through the witches hats which is no reflection on the cars or the skill of their propellants. Our approach resembled that of a dive bomber, dropping down then following a selected vehicle for as long as possible with the stall warning alarm sounding incessantly, finally pulling out before the wheel entered the vehicle's roof. Great footage, great pilot, exhilarating.

Then there was the gargantuan 4WD we took into the Mount Royal Range out the back of Singleton. My long time colleague, cameraman and 4WD enthusiast Gunther Schmid accompanied us on this journey. It's not been one of his better decisions as a pleasant journey descended into an exercise in frustration. We'd hardly set out along the track than we buried the monster in bottomless mud past its front axles. Extricating it was to occupy our energies and tempers for the remainder of the day. I have no footage of our final triumph as the sun had long since set and I was carrying no lights - we had planned to be home before dark.

To reinforce his credibility as a motoring expert or should that be furthering an indulgence, Jim took to rallying most notably in a Ford RS 2000 Escort, an extremely potent four wheeled missile. In Jim's hands it was a formidable weapon, in mine... an accident looking for a place to happen. And it did. Channel 3 wanted some promotional footage of the vehicle and had arranged a chopper for Stewart to take some aerials on a goat track south of Fraser Park. Jim was too busy to undertake the commitment and volunteered me for the assignment, as if I needed any persuasion. It was a challenge just to keep the vehicle within some respectable tolerance of the speed limits on the trip to the track.

Although I had previously travelled the track in search of surf it hardly prepared me for the spirited performance of which the vehicle was capable. With my mate Greg filling in as navigator we commenced our virulent assault on the track for track it was, filled with potholes and gutters which made it extremely difficult to keep the car on line. Too difficult in fact and I lost control coming into what should have been a relatively easy corner to negotiate. We neatly terminated two small gum trees that had chosen that part of the corner for their future prosperity. The duel wasn't entirely one-sided as the trees claimed one of Jim's very large and expensive driving lights.

We finished the run and despite being wounded (pride was at stake here) I turned the car around to retrace our brief but torrid journey and give Stewart some additional and hopefully better footage. This time the gutters on a downhill run took control of our little rocket and we lurched from peak to trough sickened by the thought that the very next impact could invert us. From Stewart's privileged position in the chopper it looked realistic except that he would have been oblivious to the fact that we were not deliberately throwing the car around. This was a battle between nature and the machine with Greg and I not quite so willing participants. We completed the descent still on all four wheels but I suspect that the suspension had suffered a severe workout as did my bank balance when I replaced Jim's broken driving light. Funny but he never again asked me to do any driving for him.

The Police Highway Patrol used to be the number one dislike of all motorists. Speed cameras have now relegated them to second place. Ever objective, Motorscope spent a day at the Police Driver Training grounds at St Ives giving viewers an insight into the skills required by those who choose pursuit as a career. This included Motorbikes, big  motorbikes, Triumph 650s to be exact.

I had spent some time filming motorcross so dodging bikes was a survival skill I had honed. However to see something the size of a Police Triumph 650  appear over a jump with an exit line that included the piece of dirt on which I was crouched was an arresting moment. Exacerbating the situation was the very new and very expensive camera perched on my shoulder.

My precarious situation was momentarily obscured by the Vision of this pinnacle of cinematic Technology  disintegrating under the impact of the rapidly descending silhouette of the law in motion. Lady Luck again smiled and I was left with a great shot and a need for some fresh underwear. Measuring the distance between the bike's tyre track and my knee imprint revealed that oblivion had been only millimetres away.

Open wheeler racing or Formula One as it is more commonly known is motorsport's ultimate arena and in 1972 Motorscope travelled to Warwick Farm south of Sydney to capture some highlights of the Tasman series featuring these statements in driver and vehicle prowess. Off the starting grid their collective roar would rival that of a jumbo jet on take-off. Standing beside them their power was palpable as they accelerated away. As they disappeared from view I sallied forth across the track in search of another vantage point. I almost didn't reach it. The camera on my right shoulder obscured my vision consequently I didn't see a car that had lagged the start for an unknown reason. As I stepped on to the track he flew past me in a blur.

Regulations to-day fortunately deny the opportunity for such adrenalin charged incidents to occur but it was a cheap lesson in not making assumptions.

Jim was not quite so philosophic and sought to distance himself from my foolishness. Enfant terrible that I was ensured that he would be subjected to further such embarrassments.

The Watagan Forests west of Newcastle have seen their fair share of rally traffic but in 1978 they were opened up to daylight special stages acknowledging the sport's need for greater exposure than that previously afforded by what were predominantly night events. Spectator instructions ensured easy and safe access to the event with marshals for crowd control, a far cry from my endless nights and questioning forays down unknown tracks in search of rally action.

Downhill corners pose an interesting challenge for competitors, trying to balance the car's speed with the additional momentum of the downhill run. They offer a heightened potential for loss of vehicular control or as we expressed it, a lose. Naturally I gravitated to such a location, looking up at a downhill right-hander.

My decision was ultimately rewarded as a Datsun 180B lost it part the way through the corner, the rear of the car kissing the bank on the navigator's side before dropping its wheels into the gutter which ran down the hill, the driver still fighting for control. Finally the car had a straight line except that I had already claimed the gutter for my filming position. Having to now share it with an unwelcome 'guest' was an alarming alteration to the script. Nevertheless I kept filming and in a last minute bid to avoid the impact I breathed in and attempted to lift myself from the gutter. Although it worked I have since examined the footage frame by frame and come to the conclusion that there was only a layer of dust between me and eternity. Jim just shook his head in disbelief and melted into the crowd.

Jerilderie Park Speedway seems an unlikely name for a speedway at Tomago but that was how it started back in 1972 evolving ultimately to become the "Motordrome". Built as an entrepreneurial venture by the Laverick brothers whose firm Carrington Slipways was successfully building tugs over the road, it was to provide an outlet for local bike, car and hot rod enthusiasts for 30 years despite some troubled beginnings.

Although not the only speedway in the area - there was one at Heddon Greta near Kurri and another at Salty Creek near Morisset - it presented many national and international exponents of the various disciplines of speedway competition providing Motorscope with a ready source of material. Jim road tested many speedway machines including a speedcar and solo motorbike. He made a significantly better effort on the bike than I did. Riding a borrowed machine in a charity event one night I made an ignominious exit finishing hard into the wall. At least I was consistent. If it has to be ridden invariably I will at some stage part company with it. 

Covering events at the Motordrome was problematic as they were generally run at night under relatively poor lighting conditions. It was a bit of an 'in' joke but when asked if we could record sound at the meetings I used to say that there wasn't enough light for this. It was actually a smart arse response which left the questioner justifiably perplexed (and probably annoyed).

The science behind it was quite simple. The apertures on the lenses on the sound cameras could not open sufficiently wide to enable correct exposure of the film in the low light conditions of the Motordrome while on the silent cameras they could. It was a perennial challenge for us and while the track lighting was eventually upgraded and more sensitive electronic cameras introduced which overcame our problems it was too late for us as Motorscope had ceased production. 

2002 saw the closure of the Motordrome and with it the end of formal speedway in the region. As a sport speedway racing continues but no longer in the Hunter, a sad end for a sport whose beginnings in Australia were at Maitland showground, a few miles up the road from the Motordrome. No doubt there is countless hours of speedway footage circulating, Motordrome promoter Peter Gurbiel used to record and sell videos of the weekly meetings. But what Motorscope captured were the carly days and a little of the colourful characters such as George Tatnell and Gary Bevan who became part of speedway folklore.

We trekked to Oran Park west of Sydney on more than one occasion sticking our microphone and lens in front of a very young and aspiring Peter Brock along with Novocastrian hopefuls such as David Sheldon and Jim Bayliss.

Motorscope ventured into somewhat tangential areas. We 'road tested' a double- decker bus for instance. It was owned and driven by Mike Wansey who coincidentally owned Channel 3 at the time. I think he enjoyed the bus more than television. Filming through the front window of the upper deck was a great perspective until I spied an underpass through which we had to travel. To the best of my knowledge the road we were on was not one generally travelled by double-decker buses… if ever. The burning question, would we fit underneath it? It was a moment of accelerated contemplation. When I get it transferred I have promised Mike a copy of the footage for the price of the underpants I had to replace.

Perhaps our most tangential initiative with Motorscope was to do a programme on ski racing. OK, ski boats do have engines, big engines comparable to those used in motorsport but they race on water with one or two desperates on skis clinging on behind. Jim built me a special bracket to support an extremely long lens that I had bought for surfing footage but could be equally applied to this exercise. While it captured some interesting footage the broader initiative was to founder on the rocks of commercial reality. By this time Jim was now employed fulltime in the newsroom as a journalist further restricting our time to work on 'foreign orders' as Motorscope was viewed. Channel 3 had suggested that in addition to Motorscope we develop a boating show along similar lines.

It was an attractive proposition except that we were expected to do both Motorscope and the boating show with no additional funding. No funding, no show, a point on which Jim and I were in total agreement. So the proposed boating show sunk and took with it Motorscope. Pioneers we might have been but it rankles to see viable versions of the concepts still populating our television screens to-day.

My passion has always been surfing with filming it a close second. Motorscope filled the creative void created by the fact that surfing films were financially successful only because they were made on the threads of a shoestring and at the time surfing lacked the mainstream impetus and commercial power that it now enjoys. Don't misunderstand this analysis. Motorscope gave me opportunities and experiences that would never have occurred with surfing. It is pointless to compare them save to say that the 'Motorscope experience' was one that Jim and I shared while our colleagues were dispassionate observers, neither envious nor critical.