In theory, Philip Kelly retired in the late 1980s. In practice, for the almost the next three decades, Phil was as busy as ever, attending to his many tasks as Shipping Australia state secretary.

Add to this his role as chairman of the Committee of Management at the Village Williamstown, and he was one very busy person.

An Order of Australia recipient and a longstanding champion of shipping and containerisation, Phil’s story began in 1928 in the inner Melbourne suburb of Richmond. Richmond was hit hard by the Great Depression in the early 1930s, but Phil’s family fared better than many. His father was employed as sales manager in a rope manufacturing company while national and international unemployment soared.

He attended Yarra Park State School and then University High.

His younger brother became a doctor but that was never Phil’s calling.

“I think my father would have loved my doing medicine, but even at school I was sort of shying away from that kind of work and was always interested in ships. It was when I was first entrusted by Gibbs Bright & Co to go down to a ship alone with the mail that I just fell in love with those stately ships, and indeed with those who sailed in them.”

As a kid, he had watched the great ships coming and going from Melbourne while on his father’s fishing boat. Then in 1947 he joined Gibbs, Bright & Co Shipping Agency in Melbourne, an Australian agency for Port Line, Cunard, The East Asiatic Company and several tramp ship operators.

Gibbs Bright & Co provided a fascinating role and comprehensive training in ship husbandry, operations, marketing, and ultimately in management. Phil was promoted to assistant manager in the Victorian office in 1963.

“In those days – you could call them ‘bad days’ in a way for a ship owner, because they would be in port for three or more weeks at least – it was nothing for them to be on the coast for two months.”

Of course, in the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s the waterfront was nowhere near as mechanised as today.

“As an example, people don’t believe me when I tell them that I came home one day and my mother said, ‘You smell’. I said, ‘That’s horse manure.’ That’s what we had – draught horses.”

He recalled the advent of containerisation.

“In the meantime we were gearing up for the ‘container revolution’, as you might call it. We had 18 months to do that, but meanwhile, all those conventional ships were still in operation, so those offices needed their staff.”

To minimise the impact of the agency mergers, younger staff who resigned were replaced by retirees.

“At the end of it all I had not one redundancy. That’s how we did it – at the end of each day I wouldn’t have to say to 40 or 50 people, ‘Sorry, there’s no job’. I’m very proud of that.”

So what were his feelings about the arrival of containerisation?

“After the first year’s operation, I stated that the advent of the container concept would be more profound and longer lasting in its impact on international commerce than the change from sail to steam. I have had no reason to change that belief.

“I think the biggest challenge of all was not the mechanisation of it. We had a pretty good idea of how we were going to handle things. It was convincing the clients,” he said. “There was a very anti-container attitude; sheepskin exporters and wool exporters felt that their products might sweat in a confined space.”

People in the canned fruit industry were concerned their cartons would sweat.

“It was only when we got into it that we realised we could sell another point – clients would have predictability, whereas there was no predictability in the old system, given the chaos and congestion on the wharf.”

The first container ship to arrive in Melbourne was in 1969.

“We started working on plans for it in 1967,” Phil recalled. “There were two companies, both consortia: Overseas Containers (OCAL) and Associated Container Transport (ACTA).”

While both consortia cooperated in the lead-up to containerisation, the fundamental principles of commercial competition remained in place.

“OCAL had seven original Lines and ACTA had five. We planned, sometimes in parallel but also in opposition, don’t forget. While you pooled a lot of scientific research, you didn’t share your clients.”

From 1972, Phil spent time on the Board of the Port of Melbourne Harbour Trust, the precursor to the

Port of Melbourne Corporation, concurrent with his role with ACTA.

“We had a wonderful union man named Roy Cameron, who’d come from the Trades’ Hall Council. He was old enough and wise enough to realise that things had to happen in the name of progress.”

Key issues included expanding the port to meet the demands of container shipping.

“Our eye was on trade growth and the obligation to cater for it. You had to start planning new berths and the hinterland years in advance. And at the same time, we couldn’t turn our back on bulk cargoes.”

Away from shipping, he loved the simple process of growing vegetable and was a passionate supporter of the Richmond Tigers AFL (formerly VFL) club.