Will we ever know? Will we (they?) ever learn?

The Beagle Editor,

It’s now 3 years and 5 months since the $2.7 million purchase of the Batemans Bay Bowling Club was announced amid a fanfare of optimism for the gateway development that would be possible on the site. We are still waiting, of course, for that vision to materialise.

We are also still waiting to hear an explanation about why, if the bowlo site had been so valuable, it had sat on the open market for years before council’s move – and still today, years after that - without any commercial interest being shown. Council was then so ecstatically happy to spend our money despite the consensus of opinion then and now that $2.7 million was far too much to spend on such a problematic site.

Now we are selling the Moruya racecourse and, surprise, surprise, the price is being kept secret but the feeling in the community, and as expressed by the two councillors who didn’t go with the flow at the meeting on 24 September, is that it is too low for some 50 hectares near pristine beaches, next to an airport and serviced by good transport infrastructure. A developer could easily create an estate with over 250 quarter acre blocks on such a site. Go figure how the sale makes sense if the rumours are correct that the price is as low as $1.3  – $1.5 million, a figure that is less that the cost of the infrastructure said to be needed to bring the facilities up to scratch to facilitate just a few more TAB meetings each year. If the return from a few more meetings is that good, it beggars belief that the price is anywhere near right.

Who knows if the same valuers were used to advise council on both the bowlo’s (high?) purchase and now on the racecourse’s (low?) sale, but we all do know who was responsible for making the decisions and who has been delegated to conclude the negotiations.

From here in the mushroom patch, I wonder how good does that make you feel? Jeff de Jager Coila

Above: The Mushroominator: Designed to convert simple open issues into complex secretive lies that fill dark corners with the stench of merde.