Factory can’t help making money

Press, 12 May 1981, Page 17

Factory can’t help making money

The bank note printing plant of Bradbury Wilkinson (New Zealand), Ltd, at Whangarei, was officially opened by Mr Muldoon last week. TONY GAMLEY of the “Northern Advocate,” writes about the tight security around the factory, of its plans for the future, and of the people who work there.

The heavy-duty, steel gates that bear the interwoven gold-painted initials would look more at home guarding the privacy and security of a stately mansion than a factory overlooking Whangarei harbour. In fact, the gates and the surrounding barbed-wire fencing are only part of the security involved in protecting a factory where the end product is money, in all shapes and sizes, denominations and currencies. As you approach either the single, turnstile, or driveway gates a security man asks you to state your business and requests identification. On top of several metres of concrete pylon, among a nest of powerful nightlights on each corner of the fac-

tory, sits a closed circuit television camera. An escort arrives to deliver you to the foyer, and past what must be the most impressive and effective “judder bar” invented. It would stop an 18-wheeled juggernaut dead in its tracks without sustaining a dent. At the flick of a switch the half-metre high steel barricade slips underground amid the groans of a hidden power source and immediately returns once a vehicle has gained access. The Bradbury Wilkinson Co. (NZ), Ltd, factory on a .hill on the way to the Whangarei suburb of Onerahi, has been operating for a year and its presses are churning out millions of dollars and

other unspecified currency banknotes. Security documents such as share certificates and bonds are also being produced, and traveller’s cheques will eventually be added to the factory’s “quality printed products” line. When the general manager of Bradbury Wilkinson’s New Zealand subsidiary, Mr John Ward, talks of what his company produces he does • it

with enthusiasm and a great deal of pride. Unlike most of us who are mainly concerned with its face value, John Ward relates a banknote, to a work of art. .As would be expected from a man who has worked 35 years for the British company, his eye can easily pick up the built-in faults, shades, and characteristics that give individuality to every note. The 54,000 square foot fac-

tory employs 180 people who have been trained by a handful of experts brought out from the United Kingdom on a two or three-year term. It has cost the company $5 million to set up its New Zealand subsidiary, and that does not include the factory and land of more than $4 million put up by the Northland Harbour Board as a pay-back lease deal, nor the planned expansions. By 1988 the company hopes to double its factory floor space and will employ between 240 and 250 people. Most of the staff, apart from specialised tradesmen, are local people, who have lived up to Mr Ward’s expectations.

The factory now operates on a double day, 15¥z hour

shift, and “everybody in the company is quality conscious.”

“They handle thousands of banknotes. It’s just printed paper to them now,” Mr Ward says. “Although one woman did say to me that after five minutes in the place she had handled more money than she would have seen in her lifetime.”

Bradbury Wilkinson recently w’on the contract to print New Zealand banknotes from one of its competitors, De La Rue. The specialised rag cotton-based banknote paper is imported from the United Kingdom and goes through a complicated printing process carried out by numerous workers before coming on to the market.