The ingenious way the Opera House protesters paid off their $151K fine

You may never have heard of Dave Burgess and Will Saunders, but you will almost certainly have seen their handiwork.

Twenty-one years ago the pair boldly defaced the Sydney Opera House in an act of defiance against the impending war in Iraq.

Now, the pair reveal how they pulled off the historic protest with a couple of tins of paint and how they view their actions all these years later.

If you wandered through the streets of Australia’s major cities at the beginning of 2003 you would have likely encountered anti-war signs and impassioned peace rallies.

It was less than two years since the 9/11 terrorist attacks on New York’s World Trade Centre buildings.

The “War on Terror” ensued.

The political rhetoric in the West, led by the United States, pushed for the disarmament of Iraq’s weapons of mass destruction.

Under the leadership of former prime minister John Howard, Australia committed to supporting the US by joining a coalition of military forces to invade Iraq.

While many Australians were supportive of Howard’s decision, large sections of the country were furious, and they voted with their feet.

Across the country, crowds in the hundreds of thousands took part in consecutive days of anti-war demonstrations.

“It was this awful, awful feeling of being disempowered,” Will said.

“[It felt like] people more powerful than you were doing things over which you had no control that would be a catastrophe.”

On February 14, coordinated peace rallies were held worldwide.

“Half a million people marched across Australia,” Dave said.

“It was mums and dads. It was people … who’d never protested before.”

Dave and Will were among the many thousands who took to the streets in the demonstrations.

This was a time before the smartphone and social media, when showing up and stepping out was the most effective way of having your voice heard.

The protests were the biggest Australia had seen since the Vietnam War and, at the time, organisers said it showed Australians were clearly opposed to engaging in the conflict in Iraq.

Famous Australians used their celebrity to influence change, and zealous protesters got creative with signs and costumes to attract media and political attention.

And then, on the morning of March 18, Sydneysiders woke to two bold red words blazoned at the top of one of the country’s most famous icons.

The message in vivid paint on the main sail of the Sydney Opera House was succinct.

The powerful anti-war statement was beamed to countries around the world.

But, at a height of 67 metres and plastered across one of the city’s most prominent tourist attractions, its execution was by no means simple.

The brains behind the protest

Sitting in a Sydney pub, two determined mates preconceived the peaceful protest.

Conservationist Dave, 33, and Will, a 42-year-old English astronomer, aimed to let the world know that Australians were not on board with Howard’s decision.

The pair had initially planned to graffiti a wall in an inner Sydney suburb.

But they decided it wouldn’t get enough cut-through.

Dave shared his story of how the protest evolved in the new ABC series, Tony Armstrong’s Extra-Ordinary Things.

“It began with Will’s anger. [He] was seething [and] you could sense the rest of the country was too,” Dave said.

“Will suddenly said, ‘I want to do something. I’ve got this tin of paint. Let’s paint a wall in Newtown.’

“And I sort rolled my eyes and said, ‘Another wall in Newtown for graffiti.'”

So, they started to think bigger and bolder.

But they needed a much larger blank canvas.

Dave half-jokingly suggested the top sail of the Opera House, but they weren’t sure if it was worth the consequences.

“I did this double take because he’s right; it’s the obvious place, but am I really brave enough to do it?” Will said.

After several further conversations, a decision was made.

“[Will] finally decided he might be prepared to get deported for the act. And we were on,” Dave said.

“Neither of us wanted to bottle out for fear of letting down the other person,” Will said.

And so began their planning to execute the now-historic protest.

Making it happen

It started with a reconnaissance trip around the Opera House concourse to see if climbing to the top was achievable.

“I could see that there was a route quite feasible to get up,” Will said.

They bought extendable paint rollers with handles that were 5 metres long, and Will rehearsed his painting technique after learning from a previous protest.

“We’d done a bridge over a freeway, somewhere in North Sydney and we found we were writing “RAW ON” instead of “NO WAR” war,” he laughs.

“I mean, it’s not easy writing upside down [and] backwards.”