30/05/2026
Recently, my friend David Warby has been in the UK driving Donald Campbell's Bluebird K7. As you would probably know, David's father, Ken, is still the current World Water Speed record holder. I worked and raced with Ken for many years, and I thought I would recount the story of my meeting Ken Warby and how my first job for him nearly cost me my life. 😉 (5-minute read)...
I was racing at Oran Park Raceway near Sydney and discovered that a hero of mine, Ken Warby, lived nearby. This first meeting was just after Ken had set the world water speed record at Blowering Dam, NSW, in October 1978. Ken pushed this record to an incredible 511 km/h (317 mph) in the jet-powered boat he’d built in his shed. On the return run, his speed was clocked at 555 km/h (345 mph) when Spirit of Australia exited the measured mile.
I knocked on Ken’s door, introduced myself, and congratulated him on his world record achievement. We became firm friends and worked and played together over the next few years in Australia and the USA.
Ken was a very gifted and practical mechanic, in the same mould as Art Arfons. He had lifted the jet engine into his boat, Spirit of Australia, with a rope slung over the bow of a tree.
His achievement of breaking the world water speed record cannot be understated. This record must go down as one of the best Australian record-breaking feats ever. The record he set in 1978 still stands today, with the last two people who attempted to break Ken’s record sadly killed in their attempts. Water is very unforgiving, and if you get it wrong in a car, you might get another chance. There’s no such luck on water. It’s like hitting concrete! Ken eventually moved to the USA and retired there. RIP Ken.
After I started working with Ken, he asked me to travel to the USA to oversee the jet dragsters he was having built by Romeo Palamides in Chicago, Illinois. Romeo was a well-respected chassis and jet car builder. So, I flew from Perth to Sydney and took the opportunity to catch up with Ken. I told Ken the rocket bike had been a precursor to my land speed record car. I also told him I was now interested in racing jet cars for a living and getting as much practical experience as possible.
Once I met with Ken, I flew on to Los Angeles and then to Chicago, where I stayed at the Rollin’ Wheels Motor Hotel on Pulaski Road. Romeo Palamides explicitly told me to ask how much the fare was to the hotel before I got into the taxi at the airport. He said, “It should only be about $17, but the taxi drivers often take unsuspecting tourists the long way and charge them $50 for a $17 ride.”
I arrived at the Rollin’ Wheels Motor Hotel in South Chicago, which was located in a rather rough area. A big fat security guard was lying on the sofa half asleep, with a gun falling out of his holster. I was strictly instructed not to go outside; I was to stay in my room until morning. Romeo was coming past at 8 a.m. to pick me up and take me to his workshop. So, I went to my room, which was pretty average, and sat on the bed, looking out the window. Over the road was a shopping mall; it was buzzing, and I couldn’t believe it. It was Sunday afternoon, and I thought, Jeez, don’t these people go to church?
The number of the hotel where I was staying was in the thousands, and where I was being taken the next day was in the 6,000s. I couldn’t believe that there could be streets that long. Even though I was instructed not to go out, my inquisitive nature got the better of me. I decided to investigate what the big crowd over the road was interested in.
I left my room and walked over the road; nothing special was happening, just a lot of shoppers taking advantage of Sunday trading, something we weren't used to in Australia. Then, I decided to walk on to see if I could find Romeo’s workshop. I started walking and passed a few guys on the street, said “G’day”, and carried on.
After walking a few kilometres, I was still a long way from the number I was looking for, so I decided to return to the hotel. I didn’t want to walk that far, and the jet lag was catching up with me now. I had seen a few buses, so I decided to catch one, but none would stop. Eventually, I threw myself in front of one, which luckily did stop, and jumped on. The guy didn’t understand me much, but I got him to stop at the hotel and jumped off.
When Romeo picked me up the next day, he said, “How did you sleep?”
I told him I was tired, as I went for a bit of a wander down the road, and he was pretty pi**ed with me.
“I told you not to go out.” I said, “I had never seen a street that long and wanted to see a street number in the 6,000s.”
I showed him how far I had gone as we drove to his workshop. He said, “You got there? I’ve had my shop for twenty-two years, and I have never heard of a white guy walking that far and not ending up dead.”
He told me I had gone through several gang territories that protect their areas with extreme gun violence.
“Did anyone hassle you?” Romeo asked.
“No, I spoke to a few guys on the way; they were fine.”
He said, “You need to buy a bloody lottery ticket, my friend.”
After overseeing the dragster builds, I left Chicago. I returned a few more times whilst Romeo was building these cars, but I learnt my lesson about venturing out. I had used up all my luck on the first trip.
Later, when these jet dragsters were completed and back in Australia, Ken invited me to join his team and drive them. So, we travelled to all the major drag strips throughout Australia to race these epic machines. What a show we put on.
This story is printed with the kind permission of Mark J Read.
