investigation
Broome’s crime crisis: A weekend in WA’s Kimberley holiday hotspot that’s ‘like a war zone’ for locals

Violent crime in Broome seems out of place in a holiday haven that is supposed to be the diamond in WA’s tourism crown. So are the reports of alleged murders, sex assaults, and knife-wielding youths a true reflection of the Kimberley town or just headline hype? The West Australian’s Caleb Runciman flew north to find out I’ve arrived. But instead of watching Broome’s sunset from the back of a camel at Cable Beach, I spend two days trawling its inner suburbs. And, take it from me, you won’t see this side of “paradise” blazing across a tourism brochure. Within minutes of landing for my first trip to Kimberley’s “postcard-perfect” town, I’m witness to a confronting incident pouring out onto the street. One man has a cut to the right side of his face and his shirt is covered in blood. A woman shouts at him, “Get the f..k away when I tell you” as passengers — including a child — watch on from a Toyota hatchback. Two cop cars arrive and officers hold a short conversation with the pair. The police then drive away and the bloodied man is left at the scene. Collateral damage. In the short time since arriving, I’ve witnessed day drinking in public, rubbish strewn across roads, burnt-out cars in streets and now this. It’s an early insight into the reality of a town grappling with out-of-control youth crime, domestic violence, rapes and murders. Over the following two days, numerous fearful and fed-up locals opened up to me about stories that seemed hard to believe. Residents buying gun cases, traumatised store workers quitting their jobs, gangs of girls and boys attempting to rob family businesses, and regular broadcasts of ongoing murder and sex assault trials. One shop owner tells me some streets are reminiscent of a “Beirut war zone” as he reveals his store was targeted by a gang of youths just days after his staff were threatened by children brandishing knives. The tourism brochures will show you that Cable Beach is known for its camel rides, pristine sunsets and cocktails. They don’t warn that abuse will be hurled at you, but you don’t say anything back because, basically, you’re afraid. And that businesses are “unsure about the future”. People are scared. But the moment you begin exploring the actual suburb of Cable Beach — about 10 minutes from Broome town’s centre — that’s the reality. It’s where I witnessed the earlier street confrontation and it’s the same suburb where a 21-year-old man was allegedly stabbed to death recently. Nearby, on Roe Place, front yards are covered in rubbish and other roads in the area are littered with broken glass that glistens under a scorching sun. People live in shocking conditions less than a kilometre away from where backpackers sip on espresso martinis watching the sunset. Two burnt-out cars are positioned in nearby streets sitting abandoned in the same spot collecting rust — one of which has been visible on Google Maps since June. A youth gang — which has a history of trying to seek notoriety on TikTok and Snapchat — has plastered its name on rocks and trees around town. Council bins are either kicked in or burned, and graffiti stains places that are supposed to attract holidaymakers. A Cable Beach playground is covered in markings that read “KYS” (kill yourself)“, “KILL MYSELF” and NECK (sic)URSELF”. In bushes nearby lie syringe caps, drug bags and vapes. On Saturday, I was pulled over by police for a random licence check. They take the chance to warn me about exploring the inner suburbs at night. “Enjoy Broome,” one officer says. That night, police are seen making multiple house calls throughout the town’s inner suburbs . . . referred to by locals as “the Bronx”. How can parts of a holiday haven earn such a label, I wonder? Probably because of what business owners have told me. “It’s the worst it’s ever been,” they say as they grapple with the prospect of closing down because they’re fed up and fearful of the theft and vandalism. But it’s not just the crime, it’s the despair. That night, I drove past a drunken man sleeping in the middle of the footpath near busy Anne Street. And over the three days we’re in town I notice another man who just lies outside a petrol station on Napier Street, barely moving. The statistics shock as well. There’s been a 178.7 per cent increase in crime since the 2014-2015 financial year. Between January and September, 3244 offences were recorded, with the worst being family-related violence and stealing. Last financial year, in the suburb of Cable Beach, there were 1662 crimes reported with 36 of them sexual offences. In the town centre, tourists flock to various pubs as they soak up the cocktails and Coronas. When the sun sets, the nightlife still comes to life. The backpackers are definitely back, and alcohol is everywhere. I watch as three people — believed to be backpackers — pile onto a moped before driving to the Roebuck Bay Hotel. One of them is not wearing a helmet and scrapes their feet along the road as they swing around corners. At “The Roey”, I see people taking drugs in the bathrooms and bouncers hugging patrons. One man pretends to punch a security guard before being let inside. A woman is being catcalled before she tells the man to “shut the f..k up c..t” as she waits for a taxi. It’s messy. Northbridge in the North West. I chat to a security guard at the Broome Hospital who tells me they must be ready for “anything” at “any time”. And it reminds me of something I wasn’t ready for — the constant presence of kids. Seemingly everywhere, and at any ungodly hour. Both Indigenous and white, walking in large groups or swooping past on e-scooters. The words “youth crime” flick through my mind. For those in Broome who haven’t witnessed the mayhem that others have experienced, they can’t escape the warnings. During our stint in town, we are regularly told to “lock your doors, windows and cars, and don’t forget to place your valuables inside a safe because bored children will smash through your balcony door”. Or “avoid this street, don’t go there, and turn the other way”. Hotel staff insist nothing bad has happened at our accommodation, but a quick online search reveals a group of young men broke into the hotel armed with an axe last year. The staff jammed a wooden pole below my balcony’s sliding door so no one could break in. Those who live here say it’s taboo to discuss what’s “really” going on, as people fear they’ll be labelled racist or that talking about the crime wave will cause further community divide. But locals are at a loss as to what works. Why do some children fall into gang life while others make it through school? People are calling out for help but aren’t seeing improvements. They say that kids committing crimes are getting “younger” and “braver” because others who have offended seemingly escape prosecution. Then a trip to the beach at sunset gives me an insight into how worlds from different centuries have collided. The silhouette of an Indigenous boy with a spear in hand swiftly moves ever so gracefully along the shoreline as he eyes a fish in the retreating tide. Although he didn’t snare a catch, his efforts were mesmerising as he tip-toed through the sand while the sun sunk into the horizon behind him. Not once did he appear frustrated or overwhelmed — he was clearly having fun. But for how long?

investigationBroome’s crime crisis: A weekend in WA’s Kimberley holiday hotspot that’s ‘like a war zone’ for locals

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Broome’s crime crisis: A weekend in WA’s Kimberley holiday hotspot that’s ‘like a war zone’ for locals