A fond farewell to the voice of Port Douglas
Our People
Michael Gabour, who was the voice of Port Douglas for a decade and half, has died aged 79.
Michael, who was born in Texarkana, Texas, and spent his childhood in Venezuela, used to say that he was “washed up almost accidentally” into Port Douglas in 1990 after attempting to sail across the Pacific to Australia but only getting as far as Tahiti when he called a university friend who had come to Australia.
The friends said, “You have to come to Port Douglas. We are buying a motel.”
It was the old Coconut Grove.
While in the accountant’s office sorting out the sale, he met Helen, who promptly left her job in that office and came to work for Michael. They were married and became business partners.
Then the Court House Hotel came up for sale for the first time in 47 years. Michael and Helen ran it until 2001. They began the Sunday live-music tradition. Bikies came from everywhere spilling out onto the footpath in a joyous appreciation of live music.
Helen sang and Michael played in the Court House All Stars. Every 4th of July Michael and Helen put on a massive party with lots of bands. They sold it in 2001.
There briefly followed a parafly business before Radio Port Douglas came up for sale.
“If we can run a hotel, we can run a radio station,” Michael said.
Michael became the breakfast DJ, opening every morning by greeting every town in the shire by name. Helen did the massive amount of administrative work.
Radio Port Douglas was an exemplary community radio station. His guest and regulars list was as long as it was eclectic: the mayor, councillors, Sergeant Damian Meadows, local business owners, environmentalists, developers, professionals, political commentators, musicians, and on it went. All interesting. All with a local connection.
They were interspersed with perhaps the most diverse music collection of any radio station in Australia.
Michael chatted, conversed, and pontificated through the morning with endless enthusiasm for every guest, every topic, and every piece of music. It went until 2017 when – despite Helen’s Herculean administrative efforts and Michael’s Panglossian optimism – economics and the changing media landscape meant they were working for near nothing. They sold the station and its chattels, paid everyone out, and went into retirement.
Michael always signed off his program with: “See ya tomorrow. Si Dios quiere” - Colloquial Spanish for “If God allows it.”
Michael’s father took him to Venezuela then aged two in pursuit of oil. They went back to the US when Michael had to go to high school.
On completing high school, Michael joined the Air Force Academy. Then, in August 1966, the 19-year-old Michael was shot in the Texas State University Tower shooting. It was infamously the first mass random shooting in the US. Fourteen people were murdered, including Michael’s 16-year-old brother, Mark, and his aunt. His mother was severely injured.
Michael suffered neurological injuries that permanently affected his walking ability.
He was discharged from the Air Force with a scholarship to Bologna University’s School of International Studies (hence his abiding and perspicacious interest in politics). He worked at the Amsterdam Stock Exchange and ran a business importing motorbikes for US tourists to ride around Europe before shipping them home.
And then went back to the US and Australia.
Michael did not bear his permanent disability with grace and dignity. Rather he simply ignored it and got on with his life. He flew an ultra-light. He rode a Harley Davidson. He worked tirelessly. And enjoyed Port Douglas’s restaurants even more tirelessly.
Michael was more than generous with his time both on and off air. He was always of good cheer with the people he was around, but was never afraid of expressing his fury and contempt for those in politics whose policies and attitudes he abhorred – not least Donald Trump.
When asked for help, he could never say no.
Indeed, he came from hospital the day before he died to give the eulogy at Dr John Archer’s funeral.
Everybody knew Michael and Michael knew everybody.
A huge number of people in Port Douglas and dotted in places across the world will profoundly regret we will not “see ya tomorrow” because “Dios no quiere”.
