TI? Where's that?

TI has some ripping yarns.  My favourites are those involving people who have no idea this gorgeous island exists or even assume it is overseas.

     Here is what I reckon is the ripperest of TI yarns (apart from the untimely death) and is the reason for this sleek memorial on the waterfront.

TI in 2B: Memorial to Dr Joseph Wassell, much loved and respected doctor and quarantine officer who died on TI in 1915.

     Dr Joseph Leathom Wassell was a civilian and military doctor and quarantine officer who arrived on TI in 1900 at the age of 27.  He was so well respected that when he died in 1915 from stonefish poisoning, a memorial was erected in his honour.

     However, the headstone ordered for his grave never turned up, well, not for 90 years.  In that period, the location of his grave was lost due to limited record keeping at the time.

     Fast forward to 1996.  A quarantine officer, Ian, on Torrens Island, a quarantine station near Adelaide and known to locals as TI, was cleaning out a ramshackle boatshed.  He came across a headstone dedicated to Dr Joseph Leathom Wassell of Thursday Island.

Ian correctly figured that the headstone was mistakenly sent to TI (Torrens Island) instead of TI (Thursday Island).  It was confirmed when he rang the Torres Shire Council.

     In July, 2005, Ian drove from Adelaide to Seisia with the headstone and boated over to TI.  A commemoration was held with the shire council, elders and church reps to honour Dr Wassell’s dedication to the people of the Torres Strait.

Amazing!

     My TI-Where’s-that? experience happened a few years ago when I was working full time.  I received a phone call from a woman (with an Australian accent) from A1 Medical Insurance (or some such medical insurance company name) trying to sell me a policy.  I assumed it was private health insurance and I told her I wasn't interested.

     She persisted with the tenacity of a telco salesperson.

     “But what happens if you get sick?”

     “I’ll go to the hospital.”

     “That’ll cost you.  With medical insurance, the insurance covers your costs.”

     “No, the hospital pays their staff who treat me.  I’m pretty sure that’s how it works so I don’t need your medical insurance.”

     “What happens if you have to be evacuated to a larger hospital for specialist treatment?”

      "Well, I suppose the hospital covers that, too.  I’m not …”

     I wanted to tell her to bugger off, but I simply cannot be rude to unsolicited callers.  I knew students who paid their way through uni making calls for charities or companies doing surveys or selling products.  She could be one such student. I’d shake her off eventually.  If I could get a word in. 

     “Exactly, you’re not sure, are you?  You may be out of pocket thousands and thousands of dollars.”

     “Look,” I said, politely, “I am not interested in medical insurance.  I just don’t need it.”

     “You’ve already said you THINK the hospital will cover you, but that is an unusual arrangement.  If you are not living near large hospitals, you’ll bear the cost of getting there and having the treatment.”

     She had me worried.  Perhaps Queensland Health had limits to its generosity.  I hadn’t had the need for a medi-vac, so I wasn’t sure how things worked.

     “You see,” continued the woman, “With A1 Medical Insurance, you pay a monthly premium and in the event of serious illness or injury, we fly you out to a specialist hospital.”

     Naah, I thought, something’s not right if this is not regular health insurance like MBF or NIB.

     “Seriously,” I said, “if I am really sick, the local hospital will fly me to one of the major hospitals.  I know.  I hear the helicopters going all the time.  We live near the hospital.  The chopper picks up the patient from the hospital, flies to Horn Island and meets the flying doctor.  The patient is flown to either Cairns or Townsville.”

     Her tone became flat.  “Are you in Australia?”

     “Yes.”

     “Well, you won’t be needing medical insurance, then.” She slammed the phone down.