Should Kiama Council Be the Developer?

Blue Haven Bonaira – Image source Archipro

Should Kiama Council build its own developments on its catalyst sites? The lessons of Blue Haven Bonaira and Blue Haven Terralong suggest not.

Yesterday I wrote about Kiama’s catalyst sites and what we could build if we got smart about the land council already owns. A thoughtful commenter, Graham, responded with a different idea. Don’t sell anything, don’t partner with developers, don’t do public/private anything. Instead, have council build the buildings itself, retain ownership of the land and the buildings, and lease the spaces out for long-term recurring income.

It’s a position you hear often in community conversations about council assets. Keep everything. Build it ourselves. Lease it forever. The ratepayers win.

In principle, Graham is right. Retaining ownership and capturing long-term rental income is, on paper, the best possible return for ratepayers over a thirty or fifty year horizon. No developer profit margin. No one else taking a slice. Pure value for the community.

The problem is that we already know how that story ends in Kiama, because we lived it.

Blue Haven Bonaira

The last time Kiama Council decided to be its own developer at scale, we built Blue Haven Bonaira. The cost blew out badly. By the time the dust settled, council had taken on debt it couldn’t service from the operating income of the facility itself. That debt is one of the reasons we are now under a Performance Improvement Order. Council eventually sold Bonaira to a Perth-based aged care operator in April 2025, well below what was needed to recoup the build cost.

This isn’t ancient history. It happened in this council, within memory, with consequences the community is still paying for.

Blue Haven Terralong

The Minister’s recent media release on the proposed PIO variation named Blue Haven Terralong by name. See my blog here. The Minister noted that council has advised “major investment is required at Blue Haven Terralong to address maintenance and fire safety compliance issues.”

The number behind that sentence is significant. The facility needs $51.2 million in maintenance and capital works over the next ten years just to bring it from a poor condition rating up to an average one.

That is what happens when a council owns a building it can’t afford to maintain. The asset deteriorates. Compliance becomes a problem. The people who live there, in this case vulnerable older residents, end up housed in something the institution cannot keep up.

Council didn’t fail to maintain Blue Haven Terralong because anyone wanted that outcome. It failed because councils, structurally, are not set up to be long-term property owners and operators of complex assets. That’s not a Kiama problem. It’s a council problem.

Why councils struggle as developers in 2026

The construction sector today is a difficult place for any inexperienced client to stand, and councils are inexperienced clients by definition.

Builders quote a price to win the job. Then, mid-project, they can come back with variation claims and escalation costs that can add millions to the original contract price. This happens because of scope change, events like Covid/Middle-East conflict or even legislative changes in the application of the construction code during the delivery period. Sometimes they threaten to walk if the new numbers aren’t accepted. A commercial developer with a portfolio of projects absorbs that risk across multiple buildings and has the commercial muscle, the legal team, and the market relationships to push back hard.

A council doing one building has none of that. They have one project, one contract, one builder, and limited internal expertise when the variation claim lands. The outcome is predictable, and the public record across NSW is full of examples. Government projects routinely come in well over budget when the client doesn’t have the in-house capability to manage construction risk professionally.

Delivering complex buildings in 2026 is a specialist business. Councils are in the business of running communities, and that’s a full job in itself.

What this means for the catalyst sites

I’m not arguing against ratepayer ownership of long-term value. That’s exactly the right goal. Graham is right about the goal.

The question is the mechanism. How do we capture that value without putting council in the position of carrying development risk, construction risk, leasing risk, and maintenance risk on assets it doesn’t have the capability to manage?

The answer is somewhere in the middle of “sell everything” and “council does everything.” It probably looks like this.

Council retains ownership of the land. The land is the asset that appreciates, and the asset that gives council long-term leverage. Council does not need to sell it.

The buildings are delivered by a partner with the expertise, the balance sheet, and the risk management to actually deliver them on budget and on time. That partner could be a private developer, a not-for-profit community housing provider like Housing Trust, a state government delivery agency, or some combination. The point is that whoever holds the delivery risk should be someone equipped to manage it.

Council captures long-term revenue through the structure of the deal. A ground lease pays rent over 49 or 99 years. A development partnership shares revenue. An arrangement with a community housing provider can include a council ownership share of completed units that produces rental income forever. None of these models require council to be the builder or take all of the development risk.

Manning Street, where it ultimately makes sense to realise capital, can be brought to market at full development potential to fund the parts of the precinct that need council capital.

This is the conversation Graham’s question opens up. He’s right that ratepayer value shouldn’t be handed to developers. The interesting question is how to protect that value while also protecting council from risks it isn’t equipped to carry. There’s a third path between selling everything and council doing it all itself, and that’s probably where the real answer lives.

The lesson worth learning

The hardest thing about Blue Haven Bonaira and Blue Haven Terralong is that they were built with good intentions. Nobody set out to put council under a PIO or to leave vulnerable residents in a facility that needs $51 million in repairs. The people who made those decisions believed, like Graham does now, that council ownership and operation was the right answer.

The lesson isn’t that they were wrong about the goal. The lesson is that the model doesn’t work in 21st century construction conditions, and pretending otherwise just produces more Blue Haven Bonairas.

The current Finance and Major Projects Committee has, I hope, learned that lesson. The right path for the catalyst sites is one that captures long-term value for ratepayers without exposing council to risks it can’t manage. That’s not a compromise position. It’s the only sustainable one.

Thanks Graham for raising the question. The answer is imperative and it deserves the serious conversation you’ve started.

Kiama Council had the playbook. Five councillors voted not to use it. The union did it anyway.

Council voted not to ask the Minister. The union asked anyway. Nobody thanked Cr Cains.

New to this issue?

This post is part of a series covering Kiama Council’s budget, the holiday parks proposal and the Performance Improvement Order. If you want the background before diving into the detail, the earlier posts are here:

  1. Council is counting on you not reading this – submission guide
  2. Ron Hoenig just put Kiama Council on notice. Here is what I said and why you should too.
  3. Kiama Council wants submissions on a dead budget.

Start there. Then come back here.

This is my reading of the public record. Happy to be corrected.

On 21 April 2026, Cr Mike Cains moved a motion that Kiama Council write to the Minister for Local Government asking three specific questions about the budget, including whether the cuts proposed in the draft budget were actually necessary.

Council voted 5 -3 to say no.

For: Brown, Cains, Tatrai

Against: Larkins, Lawton, Matters, McDonald, Warren absent from the vote Draisma

Three weeks later, the Minister answered the questions anyway. The cuts are no longer necessary. The community got an extension. Council didn’t ask for it. The union did.

And the community is still being asked to submit on the cuts-driven draft budget by Saturday 24 May.

Here’s what happened.

Cr Cains’ motion asked the Minister three things:

(a) Whether a failure by KMC to project a balanced budget in the 2026/2027 financial year would trigger the appointment of an administrator;

(b) Whether short-term deficit budgeting, if presented alongside a long-term financial sustainability strategy, is considered acceptable; and

(c) The extent to which KMC is expected to balance immediate fiscal constraints against maintaining essential services, community infrastructure, and economic activity.

The Minister has now answered all three. No, an administrator is not being appointed. Yes, staged deficit budgeting with a long-term strategy is the path. Yes, the impact on services matters and the deadline can move to accommodate it.

The questions Cains wanted Council to ask have all now been answered. Council just didn’t ask them.

Council had been through this exact process two years earlier.

At the same 21 April meeting, two letters from Minister Hoenig were tabled in front of councillors.

A letter dated 30 January 2024 – Hoenig’s Notice of Intention to Vary the existing PIO, sent to CEO Jane Stroud, giving Council 28 days to make submissions.

A letter dated 23 May 2024  Hoenig’s variation of the PIO, issued after Council had formally engaged and made its submission.

The 2024 correspondence is the exact playbook for getting a PIO variation. Council had it on the table on the night Cains moved his motion. Five councillors voted not to use it.

The union didn’t wait.

On 9 April 2026, the Illawarra Mercury reported the United Services Union had emailed its members confirming it was actively pursuing a meeting with the Minister to seek an extension. The email said:

“An extension will avoid the need for immediate cuts, since the losses can be drawn out which means the need to cut positions and services is less immediate.”

That’s two weeks before Cains moved his motion. The union had already identified the path. It was already walking it.

Council sent the cuts out for exhibition anyway.

At the same 21 April meeting where the Cains motion was lost, Council unanimously endorsed the cuts-driven draft budget for public exhibition.

The same meeting also noted, in a separate resolution about the Reflections unsolicited proposal for the holiday parks, that any proceeds “will be incorporated into the draft budget, resulting in the potential elimination of the budget deficit.”

So at the meeting where Council voted not to ask the Minister, Council also acknowledged the cuts might not even be necessary.

And then sent the cuts-driven budget out for public exhibition five days later.

14 May 2026.

3:25 PM  Kiama MP Katelin McInerney issues a statement thanking the United Services Union, staff, community members and her petitioners.

4:26 PM  Minister Hoenig announces the proposed PIO variation.

Late afternoon,  Council “welcomes the extension.” The CEO thanks the United Services Union “for its strong collaboration and partnership in making the PIO request to Minister Hoenig.” The Mayor thanks the Minister for meeting with him at Parliament House.

Nobody thanked Cr Cains.

One more thing worth noting.

The minister also required council to strengthen its financial reporting to the Office of Local Government. Four years into a Performance Improvement Order. The community is entitled to ask what that means for the accuracy of the budget documents currently on exhibition.

What the record shows.

A councillor formally proposed the path. Council voted it down 5–3. The union pursued the same path externally. Our MP Katelin McInerney campaigned. The community wrote directly to the Minister. The extension came through. Council welcomed it.

The CEO publicly thanked the union that lobbied around her own draft budget.

The Mayor publicly thanked the Minister for the outcome he had voted three weeks earlier not to ask for.

The community is still being asked to submit on that now dead draft budget by Saturday 24 May.

The submission period should be extended. Full stop.

This is all your submission needs to say. Copy it. Send it.

“Given the Minister for Local Government proposed a variation to the Performance Improvement Order on 14 May 2026 extending the budget deadline by twelve months, I ask Council to pause the exhibition period, revise the draft budget to reflect the new timeline, and give the community adequate time to respond.”

Add your name and address. Send it to yoursay.kiama.nsw.gov.au and council@kiama.nsw.gov.au and councillors@kiama.nsw.gov.au  before 24 May.

Step by step submission guide here

A note from me. I’m a community member trying my very best to make sense of this bombardment of information and what it means for our town and our families. If I’ve got something wrong, tell me and I’ll fix it. If I’ve got something right, send your submission before 24 May.

Kiama Council wants submissions on a dead budget

A timeline of the farce. More time for the process, less time for the public.

The federal budget had a good run on the front page. Then Kiama Council kept asking the community to make submissions on a draft budget the CEO had already confirmed was obsolete, and stole the show. You can’t write this stuff. Except they did. In two media releases on the same day. Then again on social media. And again. And again.

This is my understanding of the timeline from the public record. Happy to be corrected.

  • 7 May  Mayor McDonald and CEO Stroud annouce they met Minister Hoenig at Parliament House. Mayor says he is “confident of a positive outcome” on the PIO.
  • 13 May  Council posts on social media that “budgets are officially having a moment” and asks the community to submit on the draft budget by 24 May
  • 14 May  Council publishes first media release of the day. It announces an Extraordinary Meeting on 30 June and mentions a “potential” ministerial extension to the PIO. The reason given for the delay: staff need more time to read community submissions.
  • 14 May, 3:25 PM  Member for Kiama Katelin McInerney issues a statement welcoming the extension and acknowledging the United Services Union, staff and community members who advocated against the proposed budget cuts.
  • 14 May Council publishes its second media release of the day, welcoming the PIO  extension. The CEO confirms the services proposed for cutting in the draft budget will now be retained. This is very interesting and I will give it some more thought. Council CEOs do not, as a rule, publicly thank the union that has been campaigning against their own draft budget. That is not standard practice
  • 14 May, 4:26 PM The Minister’s office issues a media release proposing the extension.
  • 24 May Submissions still close. On a budget the CEO has confirmed needs to change.
  • 30 June  Extraordinary Meeting. Staff get the extra time. The community does not.

Read that again.

The CEO has given herself and council staff extra time to read submissions. She has not given the community extra time to write them on a budget that now reflects the actual situation.

The draft budget on exhibition was built around a deadline that moved on 14 May. The services it proposed cutting are no longer being cut. Council is still asking you to submit on it before 24 May.

The submission period should be extended. Full stop.

This is all your submission needs to say. Copy it. Send it.

Given the Minister for Local Government proposed a variation to the Performance Improvement Order on 14 May 2026 extending the budget deadline by twelve months, I ask Council to pause the exhibition period, revise the draft budget to reflect the new timeline, and give the community adequate time to respond.

Add your name and address. Send it to yoursay.kiama.nsw.gov.au and council@kiama.nsw.gov.au and councillors@kiama.nsw.gov.au

before 24 May.

Want to say more? Step by step submission guide here

Media releases referenced: Minister for Local Government Ron Hoenig, 14 May 2026, 4:26 PM. Kiama Municipal Council, “Kiama Council to hold Extraordinary Meeting for Budget,” 14 May 2026. Kiama Municipal Council, “Kiama Council welcomes Performance Improvement Order extension,” 14 May 2026.

A note from me. I am a community member, not a council spokesperson and not a journalist on a deadline. I am doing my very best to make sense of this bombardment of information and what it means for our town and our families. If I have got something wrong, tell me and I will fix it. If I have got something right, send your submission before 24 May.

The $1 Million Plane, the $500K Donations, and the Three Words That Admit Everything

“Everybody Does It” is an admission, not an argument. And it tells you everything you need to know about whose interests our political system is actually serving.

When supporters of any political party reach for “everybody does it,” they have already made the most important admission in the argument. The system is working for powerful interests, and ordinary Australians are footing the bill in ways most people simply do not realise.

Consider the Fuel Tax Credits Scheme, which refunds mining companies for the diesel excise paid on their operations. In the 2024-25 financial year the scheme is projected to cost Australian taxpayers $10.2 billion, with $4.8 billion of that going directly to the mining industry. At roughly $10 billion per year, the scheme costs more than Australia spends on foreign aid and more than several major defence programs. Rinehart is also thought to be a major backer of the Institute of Public Affairs, the influential think tank that has called for the abolition of the minimum wage

This is what “footing the bill” actually looks like. Public money flowing to the most profitable industry in the country, workers denied the wages they have earned, and the political donations that help keep those arrangements in place. The connection between who donates and who benefits is a straight line.

The question voters should be asking it: do you want to be part of fixing it, or part of entrenching it?

This is a question about the kind of democracy we want, and whether we are willing to hold it to the same standards we apply everywhere else in life. We expect better from our children. We expect better in our workplaces. We expect better in a court of law. The moment “everybody does it” becomes acceptable in politics, we have handed the keys of public life to whoever has the deepest pockets and the least shame.

Nobody gives very large sums of money to a political party out of the goodness of their heart. That is common sense about how human relationships work.

Consider the difference between donating to a sporting group and donating to a political party. A donation to a netball association or a swimming club buys goodwill, perhaps a naming right on a scoreboard. A donation to a political party buys access to people who hold direct power over the donor’s business interests. Regulations. Approvals. Environmental protections. Workplace laws. The recipient of a political donation holds power that a sporting body simply does not.

AEC disclosures show that Hancock Prospecting channelled $500,000 in donations to the Coalition, with the then Opposition Leader also hosted at fundraisers where guests paid $14,000 a head, an amount kept deliberately just below the threshold requiring public disclosure. The relationship with One Nation runs just as deep. A company within the Rinehart empire gifted a $1 million plane to One Nation leader Pauline Hanson, and two executives from within the same Hancock empire separately donated $500,000 each to the party. This is a systemic pattern across multiple parties, and the people saying “everybody does it” are proving exactly that point.

When multiple parties are funded by the same powerful interests, the policy direction is already decided before you get to vote. Your ballot should mean something. It does not, when the people on both sides of the ballot paper answer to the same donors.

Australia passed electoral reform legislation, and new donation caps come into effect in January 2027. HOWEVER donors can still spread contributions across multiple state and federal branches of a party to reduce disclosure obligations, and peak industry bodies, including those representing the mining sector, can donate up to four times the standard gift cap. Reform and resolution are two very different things.

So how do we normalise doing the right thing?

This is the question at the heart of everything, and the one that gets pushed aside whenever politicians would rather argue with each other than answer to you.

Every norm we take for granted today was once considered idealistic. Equal voting rights. The end of child labour. Transparency in public life. Each became normal because enough people decided it should be, and then voted accordingly.

Morality in public life is a choice. It does not arrive on its own. Political integrity is what a functioning democracy looks like, and it is precisely what Climate 200 supported independents have built their platform around. The proposition is straightforward: your elected representative should answer to you, the voter, rather than to whoever funded their campaign.

That is the standard we should expect from everybody in public life. Voting for independents committed to that standard is the most direct way to say so.

“Everybody does it” is an admission that the system is broken. So let’s fix it. Read this article, share it with everybody you know, and when you get to the ballot box remember who answered to you and who answered to their donors.

What Sri Lanka Taught Me and Why I am Done with My Passport Privilege

I spent years avoiding developing countries like Sri Lanka. I knew I would fixate on the unfairness of life in developing countries. The first few days were confronting to the point where I had to take a break. There wasn’t just rubbish along the roadside, there was rubbish everywhere, piles of it, plastic caught in drains, spread across open ground, sitting in places people walk through every day, and the water was filthy, green and stagnant. I found it hard to look at and harder to accept that people live with it. I found it hard to reconcile we are providing aid and I couldn’t see the impact.

I visited the traditional tour offering of temples and ruins, but I didn’t linger. As a child, I stayed for hours. This time, I looked elsewhere. When I stand in front of iconic sites, I am looking for a specific photo, not a history lesson. I listen to the dates and names, but I forget them immediately. History books offer a static version of the past that lacks heart They lacked lived experience no matter how good our guide was and he was exceptional, I walked through the ancient cities because they were on the itinerary, but the stones remained silent.

My photographs record what is left. When I look through the lens at a ruin, I think about the people who originally cut the stone and shifted the earth. I wonder what they would think of these remains. I find myself wishing I could have a conversation with the people who actually lived there over the centuries. I want to know how they navigated their world, not just the names of the kings who ruled them. Since I can’t talk to the dead, I look for the modern version of their story in the people I meet today, staff in the hotels and the families in the villages. I want to see how they are navigating their world right now.

This is the source of my frustration. I didn’t go there to see iconic sites. They are important because they exist, but that is all they are, landmarks on a map. I have zero interest in ticking off a list.

I travelled with a group of twenty Australians. They were well-read, and our conversations kept circling back to the mess of global politics, the threat of war with Iran, Netanyahu’s next move, and what Trump’s latest act of disruption meant for the rest of us.

These are not distant headlines when you are travelling through a country like Sri Lanka. Decisions made by powerful men in wealthy nations and heavily armed states do not stay inside their own borders. They travel through fuel prices, food prices, trade, sanctions, aid, tourism, debt and fear.

We spent time connecting the dots between how people vote in countries like the United States, the leaders they put in power, and why a family somewhere else suddenly pays more for groceries, petrol or the bus to school. Power first, people after, is not an abstract idea. In countries with less room to move, it arrives quickly at the kitchen table.

Our guide Ash broke down how it actually works in his country. Fuel is available but it is rationed The government makes sure tour buses keep moving because tourism feeds the economy. Meanwhile, a local parent can’t get to work, a teacher misses their class, and a nurse can’t make their shift. You see how quickly a community starts to implode struggle when other countries make decisions that impact well beyond war zones. See my blogs  see my blogs on my conversations with Ash herehere  and here

When you see the impact first hand it makes the global imbalance feel very real. Wealthy countries set the rules to keep their power, and everyone else just has to find a way to survive.

We’re part of that system. The people we put in office make decisions that travel a lot further than our own borders. When we choose leaders who only care about their own leverage, “power first, people second” becomes the standard. It shows up here in what a family can afford or whether they can even get from A to B. Once you see a system strain like this, you realize that everyday dignity is much more fragile than we think.

The parts of the itinerary that resonated most strongly with me were the safaris. We visited national parks and saw animals living in their natural habitats. We drove through the park, watching closely, becoming spotters ourselves.

An animal would emerge from the scrub, tolerate our presence for a moment, then disappear again. It felt unpredictable, immediate and alive. It also gave us the chance to see native animals we do not have in Australia, in the landscape where they belong.

I remembered the Botanical Gardens for their curated beauty. I have a garden at home where I plant things and hope for the best. In Kandy, I saw those same plants thriving in ideal conditions. It was a welcome relief from the reality of the streets

I am a stickler for well laid out design. When I arrive at a hotel, I notice the bathroom, the desk, the lighting and the power points. I want to see whether someone has thought about the person using the room.

At Jetwing in Kandy, that instinct led me somewhere else.

In several of the other hotels, I noticed the public facing teams appeared to be mostly men. Women were present, yet often in roles that felt more decorative than central, appearing from time to time as the smiling face of hospitality rather than as people visibly running the place.

Jetwing felt different. I saw what appeared to be a more equal mix of men and women across the team, and women seemed to be part of the working life of the hotel rather than added to the edges of it. I wanted to understand whether this was accidental or deliberate, so I asked Ash, our guide and the constant thread through the trip, why this hotel seemed to offer young Sri Lankans, including young women, a stronger pathway into a tourism career.

Ash helped me get an interview with the General Manager. He told me they target young people in schools. They introduce the, to women in upper management. They work on the principle “You can be what you can see”.

Ash was the strongest link in the itinerary.  His stories provided the context I sought. He offered real insight into the economy and the focus on education, giving young people the opportunity to have careers that provide a genuine liveable wage and opportunities beyond traditional life. But even with Ash, I realized I was still inside a closed loop. I had his professional narrative and the intellectual debates on the bus, but I was missing the unfiltered local voice and the younger members of his team Dino and Lucky helped provide this. See blog post here 

I am a listener, not a collector. I want to understand systems and power, yet the tour is built for people who want to tick off a list. I want to talk to the engine room, yet I was shown the museum. Sri Lanka reminded me I’m not a typical tourist, and that leaves me between a rock and a hard place. When my friends ask where I will go next, I honestly do not know. I am home now, and I see my own world differently. I remember the insight, not the landmarks. Going there showed me how decisions made far away arrive in people’s lives, in the price of food, the cost of fuel, and the dignity of an ordinary day.

The leaders we choose decide more than our own future

Back home after three weeks in Sri Lanka. I saw what fuel shortages look like without passport privilege.

The petrol stations aren’t empty. There is fuel.
It goes first to tourism, because tourism brings money into the country.

Families miss out. No transport. No income. No school. No healthcare.

Teachers can’t reach their classrooms.
Parents who sacrifice everything for their children’s education watch that chance slip because a bus can’t run.

Nurses can’t get to clinics. Medicines don’t arrive.

Drivers, farmers, shopkeepers are left waiting while the system they serve no longer functions.

And still, people stretch every rupee. They put their children first.

Then you come home to abundance.

Where one person throws away food, another is searching for it.
Where one person chases wealth, another is trying to stay healthy.

And above all of it, the imbalance is obvious.

Countries with everything still want more.
More influence. More control.

Those who already hold power set the rules.
Those without it are told to accept them.

And we’re part of this.
The way we vote carries.
If we vote for me, me, me, we get leaders who think the same.
Power first. People after.
And people far from us live with the consequences.

After seeing what happens when something as basic as fuel is taken away, you understand how quickly everything can fall apart, and how much dignity depends on the basics.

Drop the good guys and bad guys for a second.
You know who decides who gets in the club and who doesn’t.

The countries with nuclear weapons set the rules.
They still have theirs.
Others are told they can’t have them.

If your country was being told no, would that seem fair to you?