June 15, 1992

Former Perth Man Finds Life After Bond (see also Oates)

"Dzien Dobry"

 The language was Polish but the accent was unmistakably Australian. ``Hello, can I help you?'' said Tony Oates, for a decade the loyal footman responsible for sorting out the financial headache that was Alan Bond.

The former Bond Corporation finance director has resurrected his career in Poland, teaching capitalism to reconstructed communists. Mr Oates settled in the famous Baltic port of Gdansk last October, after being invited, he says, by a group of private Australian investors to manage the city's only brewery.

Dressed in a Swan River Tennis Club T-shirt and R.M. Williams' moleskins, Mr Oates seemed more relaxed now than in the decade he spent picking up Alan Bond's pieces around the world.

``I don't miss those days in the slightest. I never liked the jetset lifestyle, the Mandarins, the Savoys, the Plazas and the rest of it. I am not ashamed to have been associated with Alan, they were fascinating years, great years some of them, but I don't miss them at all.'' There could be few more incongruous settings than Gdansk for Mr Oates to reflect on a situation so typical of the capitalist world during the 1980s.

Gdansk is Poland's most turbulent city. It was here in the shipyards in 1980 that a disgruntled welder named Lech Walesa lit a spark that was to ignite around the socialist world. That welder is now the President of Poland.

But the city's rebelliousness goes back a long way before Solidarity.

In the 1930s and '40s Gdansk was a reluctant part of Adolf Hitler's quest for ``lebensraum'. The Nazis occupied, but never totally subdued ``Red Danzig'', as Gdansk was known for the bolshiness of the Polish proletariat. The city was a centre of Polish resistance against Hitler's forces.

Into this turbulent past comes Tony Oates, the only Australian in town and now a leading member of the emergent business community.

Mr Oates operates out of a large converted house, from a modest pine desk and phone he shares with others.

A gold-plated sign at the gate says ``Australian holding'' and beneath it in Polish ``Buiro Doradtwa Ekonomicznego I Pravnego'', which translates loosely as economic advice bureau or consultancy.

In the car park, among the Polski Fiats, Trabants, Skodas and Ladas that Poles have endured for 40 years is Mr Oates' car, a chunky black Mitsubishi Pajero 4WD, with an Australian flag proudly stuck next to the registration.

Mr Oates has settled, alone, in a comfortable two-storey house with garden in the Sopot hills, about 10 kilometres north of Gdansk.

It's not Peppermint Grove, but by Polish standards it's more than comfortable in an area traditionally the summer playground of wealthier Poles and, until 1989, Communist Party hacks.

The Polish link for Mr Oates came partly from old Polish emigre school-mates in Perth and partly from a Swedish contact enthusing about the quality of Polish horseflesh.

Mr Oates resigned from Bond Corp in September 1990 at the same time that his now-incarcerated chairman departed.

He was lined up for his current job the following month and arrived a year later.

Interestingly, Bond had taken Mr Oates to Eastern Europe just before the company imploded. One of the last expansionist deals Bond did was to negotiate an interest in Hungary's privatised Kobanyai Brewery.

With the circumstances prevailing back home, the Hungarian deal came to nought but Mr Oates was sold on the potential of Eastern Europe.

He is ``amused'' by Australian media reports portraying him as making a killing in Poland, and linking him in Gdansk to another former Bond man, Peter Mitchell.

``This is no get-rich-quick-scheme, very much the long haul.'' Mr Oates is reluctant to discuss his new career with the media but nevertheless acknowledges that Bond post-mortems are inevitable as part of the cleansing process.

(An article detailing Alan Bond's problems and Mr Oates' connection with him recently appeared in the campaigning Polish press.) In Poland, Mr Oates' manner has mellowed and he has lost weight.

The portly devotee of long, liquid lunches has given way to a frugal, hail-fellow-well-met Polish manager.

The operation under his control but not, he says, his ownership, is considerable.

Helevius Brewing Company has around 500 employees and is one of the largest employers in Gdansk outside the shipyards.

With four brands, the brewery is small by Australian standards, producing around 400,000 hectolitres a year.

It is the only brewery in the reasonably well-off tri-city region of Gdansk, Sopot and Gydna, which have a combined population of around three million.

There is another bigger brewery in Elblag, 70 kilometres south-east of Gdansk, with double the capacity.

An associate company in Gdansk also has the Pepsi-Cola bottling franchise for the region.

All businesses were formerly under state control.

Mr Oates is also fashioning himself as an adviser to foreign companies.

One company believed to be taking that advice is the blue-chip mining house Western Mining Corporation, which is studying the feasibility of various copper deposits in the region.

Mr Oates says his days at Bond Corp are history but says he is not running away, seeing Poland as an interesting and fresh challenge.

``Home? My home is here. I don't believe in operating in a place with that detached attitude a lot of expatriates have.

``I'll make my mind up in the future, but I don't have any intention to go back there (Perth) permanently. It's not my home any more.'' Mr Oates was informed of the fate of his former boss by a call from his partners in Australia.

``It's very sad for Alan and very sad for Australia.

``I said to Tony Hartnell two years ago, if there is something wrong, fix it, but for Christ's sake just don't go through with a McCarthyism.

``I think that's what corporate Australia's going through now.'' He said the Rothwell's charge that jailed Bond was ``trivial'' and smacked of ``Let's get Bond''.

``I remember when the (Rothwell's fee letter) was signed and it was sure as hell well after that initial hard weekend.

``The funny thing is, if it was so offensive and something that Coppo (Brian Coppin) didn't like, he didn't pay his money until about six months later.

``Why didn't he say then, pfft, stick your fee, `You've offended me, Bondy'?'' Mr Oates believes Bond's problems began with his purchase of the Nine network.

``Public opinion started to go against him then. You could pinpoint it to the Bjelke-Petersen libel matter.

``I knew nothing about Bond's activities at Dallhold but I know Bond Corp, the public company, was sound, solvent and always operated within the law.

``I think it's terrible, no credit has been given to the effort we put in to try and make good. It pisses me off.'' Mr Oates has a number of queries facing him following the liquidation of J.N. Taylor Holdings.

``I don't think there is any sorting out. I've got a very expensive lawyer that I keep who does a very good job keeping an eye on things. He contacts me when he sees fit.

``I spend hours and hours, days, talking to Malcolm McCusker about Rothwells, so they know everything I know about that.

``I flew back for the Sulan inquiry.

``I've cooperated as much, as fully as I can and fully intend to keep doing so.'' Mr Oates claims there is no bad blood among creditors and shareholders of Bond and that he maintains many contacts.

``Sure, we obviously made mistakes but there was no plundering and all that people now associate with Bond. It has been totally misrepresented.'' Mr Oates is a convert to the Polish cause.

``It's a real job to teach them that you can actually run a better business by being half as big.'' Not all spoken like a true Bond man.

One could make a strong argument that Tony Oates is well qualified to advise Polish businessmen.

At one stage, he managed a foreign debt almost as large as Poland itself.

The fundamental difference between the two is that Poland survived.