IN THE October 28 edition of the Sentinel Times, nestled among the death notices and job ads, is a small declaration.
| There are many ways to end a relationship but a public notice in a local newspaper is one of the more unusual. The gardeners have had only a few hours warning. Late the previous afternoon they received an email from the secretary of the Wonthaggi Men’s Shed: “I have been directed to deliver the following message to the membership of the Wonthaggi Men’s shed without prejudice. “The Wonthaggi Men’s Shed inc. has made the executive decision to shut down the garden group operating within the grounds of the men’s shed precinct effective immediately. “This decision was reached due to irreconcilable differences negatively affecting the Wonthaggi men’s shed purpose and vision. |
Soon afterwards, the secretary resigns his post.
My investigations reveal long-running tensions, gender conflicts, opposing views of how tidy a garden should be, an untimely death (not murder), and an 86-year-old self-styled president who dreamed of making the world a tidier place.
A language warning: there are a lot of mis-spellings in this story, not all of them mine.
The president of the men's shed is Thomas Hardy. I leave messages by phone and email asking to talk to him. The name rings a faint bell, and not just because he wrote Jude the Obscure.
My second visit is to the battleground. Park near the public toilets in Murray Street and walk across Apex Park, or park in Big W’s carpark and head east along the rail trail. You’ll find a lush garden surrounded by a high cyclone fence, with a big shed in the middle.
When the Post visits, the front gates are locked and all is quiet apart from a succession of angry posters attached to the wire fencing.
The secretary’s email to the gardeners told them they have until “close of business” to remove their personal belongings. Now the president told them they had until 1pm. Only two were allowed into the shed at one time. They asked him why he had closed the garden group. “No comment” was the stern reply.
The gardeners tacked up their own sign in protest.
The arrival of a dump truck sparked concern. Thomas had previously said “a mown lawn” would be better than the garden, so one gardener chained her bike to the back gate, just in case. Police arrived soon after. They spoke briefly with Thomas, asked the gardener to remove her bike, and left. The dump truck returned later that afternoon. I've heard there was an excavator on site, but I can’t confirm that.
Soon afterwards, the council took possession of the centre, changed the locks and posted their own notice.
They assured the gardeners the council’s horticultural team would water the plants. No need. It's rained ever since.
The community garden has been a big part of her life for over 18 years. Rain, hail or shine, she’s been there almost every Wednesday for gardening days, and for countless community events she’s organised.
The irony is that it was Jessica, working with the late great Wonthaggi artist Denis Leversha, who lobbied the council back in 2007 for the Men’s Shed and community garden to share what was then a bit of wasteland in the railway precinct.
For 18 years the Wonthaggi Men’s Shed and the Community Garden have shared this space, known as the Harvest Centre. It's been mostly amicable, although the Men's Shed has tried at least once before to evict their flatmate, back around 2017. The council CEO Paul Buckley read them the riot act and peace reigned once more.
Initially Mitchell House (now the Wonthaggi Neighbourhood Centre) leased the site and auspiced the two groups. A couple of years ago, amidst rising tensions, the Men’s Shed took over the lease. It was understood when the lease was negotiated with the council that the community garden would continue to share the space.
The Harvest Centre sign was removed, the garden became “an activity” of the Men’s Shed, and the gardeners became financial members of the Men’s Shed.
“Of course, in hindsight, we should have made an official agreement,” says Jessica Harrison, the co-ordinator of the garden group, “but we just thought we would work things out. And it was fine when Trevor was president.”
Men’s shedders and gardeners alike describe Trevor Reeves as gentle, amenable, humorous and easy going. His sudden death in August was a heavy blow. The vice-president, Thomas Hardy, assumed the presidency. And that, according to the gardeners, is when the trouble began.
The president doesn't like mulch on the paths. A compost heap has to be moved. Some of the orders are contradictory. The gardeners were told they could plant a lemon tree in a certain spot. Now it must be shifted. Then it’s pulled out and left in a barrow.
Jessica says it becomes clear that no matter what they do, they can’t satisfy Thomas’s demands. “It’s a community garden. There’ll be bits that look messy to some people and other people will think it’s fine.”
She’s the only gardener on the Men’s Shed committee and is getting a rough time under the new regime. At the October 9 meeting, she’s handed a list of things that must be done, including lopping their windbreak of native trees.
Jessica responds with a conciliatory email, saying the gardeners are happy to do a spring clean but can’t commit to topping native trees without council permission.
That's the spark that ignites the powder keg. Soon afterwards, the president announces that the Men’s Shed has made the "executive decision" to shut down the garden group.
Thomas uses a lot of pseudo-legalese. Remember that “without prejudice” and those “irreconcilable differences”? When a Sentinel Times reporter asks him to comment on the dispute, he comes out all legal guns blazing:
“No people nor group had been evicted from the gardens,” he states, despite the evidence. “They were members that had a long-running dispute with the WMS committee and chose to remove themselves. They chose not to follow the model rules used by the WMS, and chose not to follow the dispute resolution procedure contained in the WMS Constitution model rules, but rather pleaded a case to the Bass Coast Shire Council.
“After three years, the committee called enough and closed the garden activity, which was operating on a social collective model — a model not used anywhere else where Men’s Sheds operate gardens.”
A social collective model? The community garden does run a monthly produce swap and hosts council-funded “Living Lightly” workshops on fermenting and seed collecting, among other things. It’s also been the scene of free community lunches and a food co-op so they’re definitely a little subversive but I don’t know that I’d accuse them of being Trotskyists.
And the presidency? That’s not quite official either. Thomas assumed the presidency after the previous president died, but the position hasn’t been ratified at a general meeting, so technically he’s acting president.
And I’ve remembered where I’ve heard the name before. About a decade ago, Thomas Hardy led a campaign against the committee of South Gippsland Animal Aid. There was an extremely hostile meeting in the Wonthaggi Workmen’s Club where the committee was accused of all sorts of things. The attempted coup failed but the scars took a long time to heal.
Thomas hasn’t returned my calls, so I drop into the Workmen’s Club to try in person. About a dozen men are there for the meeting. “All we wanted was for them to tidy up,” I hear one say plaintively.
I identify myself and ask Thomas if I can call him later. He declines to give me his number.
I finally reach Thomas a few days later.
“I won’t be saying anything, dear,” he says. “I’m resigning because of what happened.”
“What happened?” I prompt.
“I’m not going to spill sour milk,” Thomas says. “That’s up to them. I don’t know what’s going on since I left the situation.”
So the great Wonthaggi garden war is over. Representatives of the Men’s Shed and the gardeners’ group have agreed to enter mediation with the council. The terms of the lease will no doubt be up for discussion. Jessica says the garden group will be seeking equal standing with the men’s shed in any new lease.
Gardeners Jessica Harrison and Richard Kentwell “It’s not all the blokes. One of the Men's Shed members also comes to the garden. But the men who wanted the change are woodworking types, engineering types. To them a garden is a neat space where there’s not a weed and everything’s in its place.
“They saw the lush growth and assumed we were lazy gardeners. There are different ways of gardening. The community garden’s a place where people come to work together but also to relax. If they’d come to talk to us, we’d have explained that we’d love them to help.”
Jessica thinks it’s simply about power. “Tom’s the new broom. He’s suddenly the president and he wants to exert his authority.”
Can the relationship be mended?
“Both groups have value and should continue,” she says. “We just need equal standing and to work together.”
It’s been suggested that the Men’s Shed could shift to the Bass Coast Adult Learning (BCAL) site in White Road, where there’s plenty of room. Various community groups already share the space, including the Wonthaggi Woodcrafters.
The Men’s Shed previously rejected the idea, but it may be time for a rethink. It’s easier to move a shed than a community garden full of mature fruit trees.
Jessica and the gardeners are just looking forward to getting back to the garden, where the weeds are growing like crazy and seedlings are waiting to be planted.
“What a terrible episode,” Jessica reflects. “It could all have been avoided by people talking.”
So, Marcus, there you have it. It was a storm in a teacup. Now the blokes can get back to making those beautiful nesting boxes for Landcare and the gardeners can plant their tomatoes in time for Christmas, if it ever stops raining. And all will be well again in Wonthaggi.
Postscript, December 4: Following mediation with a VCAT mediator, the council now has separate agreements with both groups, and the garden group is no longer under the control of the Men’s Shed. They both returned to the site this week.