The flexographic printer

Over the next week, International Workers' Memorial Day will be observed.

April 28 is a global day to remember those who have been killed or seriously injured at work.

My first memory of workplace injury and associated trauma remains vivid.

It's staggering to learn that, on average, over the last five years in Australia, 180 workers have been killed while at work performing their duties.

In 2023, 175 workers did not make it home and, already in 2024, tragically, 29 individuals have died because of workplace incidents and accidents.

I remember visiting the Launceston General Hospital to check the progress of an employee of a local cardboard making factory who had been badly hurt in a workplace accident.

An 'accident', which would have been put down to custom and practice - 'the way we've always done things around here'.

It was the 1980s and I was probably 10 years old.

I would go everywhere with my Dad; I loved the culture of his workplace and was happy to keep him company, without understanding the full impact of these visits and interactions until years later.

Twin flexographic printers were the staple of this worksite during the '80s and '90s.

High volume and high-powered machines that folded, cut, and printed cardboard at extreme rates.

They were fed by a kicker, which was set based upon the length and width of the board, passing through a heavy roller with a plastic printing plate attached, interacting in concert with a marine ply and metal dye to cut out the shapes and print the branding, before being finished by a high-winged folding apparatus.

The wooden boxes that the machine parts arrived in were so large that Dad recycled, retrofitted, and converted the remnants into a hay shed.

The printing plate and the dye were all hand made in workshops across the factory.

It was industrial, but also artistic and complex because of the interaction between parts, which occurred simultaneously.

The kicker shot boards at 160 per minute, slower if the feeder couldn't keep up - but it was Tasmania's apple season and boxes were on rotational order to satisfy supply.

Orchards dominated local acreage where family dwellings now rise from the earth.

Sometimes, the flexographic printer fouled.

A curved piece of board too hot from the corrugator, a corrugated cardboard gluing machine, or two pieces of board racing each other to go first, resulted in the machine being stopped to remove debris.

And, at times, the printing plate clogged with paint, resulting in the print (font) not being as clear as it should be.

The pressure was always on and demands required the machine to continue even when an error occurred.

A stacker, an employee capable of placing 25 folded boxes at a time on a wooden pallet, was often sent to the pit, a concrete bunker under the flexographic printer where you changed the dye and the printing plate on the huge roller, to unclog.

Custom and practice was to take a rag and wipe it across the roller as it sprinted at more than two-and-a-half boards per second - this was quality control.

The worker ended up in hospital for a considerable time, rendered immobile in traction; the roller had taken hold of the rag and dragged his arm inward; he was stretched and shaken, but he survived.

The memory has never left me.

And as much as improvements have been made across many industries, employees are still getting hurt and continuing to die at work.

For a complete data set analysis, 2022 is sobering reading.

There were 195 deaths, 181 males and 14 females, with four of those tragedies occurring in Tasmania. 121 of the deaths were workers aged over the age of 45.

Tasmania experienced 1.4 deaths per 100,000 workers, a higher percentage than the most populous states of NSW and Victoria with 1.2 and 1.1 respectively. 141 of the deaths across Australia involved a motor vehicle.

I worked on the dye cutter and the flexographic printer for four summers - the Union ensured I was paid extremely well, and my shoulders and muscles, and drive and determination to study benefited.

I was shown the ropes by old timers who were able to reverse stacked boards using momentum.

The factory taught me a lot, most vividly the dangers of industrial workplaces with forklifts and stacked pallets many metres high, cutting materials, and a lack of simple processes which would have prevented tragedies that impacted employees and their families permanently.

This morning, in Launceston, unions and supporters will meet between York and Invermay Parks at Workers Memorial Park, Elizabeth Gardens on Invermay Road.

It will be a sombre occasion, perhaps with some in attendance directly impacted by a workplace death or injury.

I have prepared for a cold autumn morning and will take one of my children along before he goes to work - it's his first job.

I am confident that in being shown the ropes; he will have drilled into him the importance of safety, following processes and procedures, and how to care for yourself your fellow employees should the unthinkable occur.