It seemed as if the entire town had turned out, filling the council chambers and spilling out onto the street, chattering in anticipation. It hadn’t been since the days of the war that the sleepy town of Mundurah had seen such turnout.

The crowd fell silent as the Mayor began to speak. Such a thing was unusual in itself, but this wasn’t a normal day.

“It is the decision of this council that bylaw 571, with regard to development planning, has received majority support and will come into effect. I know there is many of you who oppose this, but I ask that you try to look to the future and see the benefits - this town has a bigger, brighter future ahead of it and it isn’t going to be 1960 forever.”

The mayor was soon drowned out by boos and jeers, his voice faltering in front of the crowd. The decision had been made 5-4 - not exactly decisive, but in the end it didn’t matter. Bylaw 571 gave developers the go-ahead to build high-rise apartments along the town’s foreshore where for decades there had previously only been small holiday homes, and for the local estuary to be dredged and deepened to allow boats to enter.

There was those who opposed, those who continued to fight, the shared memories of endless days spent paddling in the estuary bed as youngsters, of feeling the salt on their skin still strong in their minds. Time would march on, progress would be assured, and own day those memories would be lost for good, covered over in estuary silt.