ROSS THORBY: CRUISING ON LAND

The versatility of “freedom camping” in a van...

Here on the beach at Waipu, cosseted in the luxurious interior of Car-lotta, I was lullabied to sleep by the sound of the rolling surf just metres from the door.

The gentle rock of the van was a combination of the reverberating snore of Navigator Simon and a breeze that had worked its way in and around the Waipu dunes, playfully licking the suspension of our home away from home.

After awaking to the smell of coffee beans and fresh croissants from Car-lotta’s kitchen, (we may be in the country but we are not savages) Navigator and I separated; the last I saw of Simon was a bright yellow vision wobbling off down towards the Brynderwyns’ and Auckland on his Vespa, top heavy and overloaded with the fresh fish, chocolate and eggs that he had collected at our numerous stops on our way up the coast.

Now I am free to hit the open road solo, turn up some Bob Marley and chill with the wind in my hair … wind in my hair? Ooops, that's the ceiling vent I accidentally left open. Note to self - check all windows and hatches before leaving the safety of your site, especially making sure that the van is disconnected from “Shore” power. (A real beginner’s oversight.)

Judging by the traffic, New Zealanders seem to have taken to the road just as I have and are discovering our beautiful country. Although unlike yesterday’s drive to Waipu, the trip today would have no stops until I reached the peak of the hill marking the entrance to Paihia and the Bay of Islands.

When my family first arrived here to live in the late 60s, Paihia had 12 motels. Now there are hundreds of them, and at least three camping grounds. It was promoted then as the Winterless North - a name that sticks today.

New Zealand was a very different place then. When a Kiwi went on holiday, they either came here to the Bay of Islands, Rotorua, or maybe, if they were adventurous, Napier. People rarely travelled overseas and if you went to Australia or Fiji, you were very posh. The Bay was as exotic as it got, with its 144 islands of all shapes and sizes, its crystal clear water, dolphins and stunning scenery, all of which fortunately hasn’t changed.

Here in the new 'Covid World', this area is being rediscovered by Kiwis and now that we are open again it's pumping to the vibe of a different beat with clutches of jandaled tourists wearing Hawaiian shirts and shorts. I feel at home - as if I’d never left. I spent a formative childhood here, swimming, sailing, riding horses along the beach and generally being a kid. We raided orchards and played truant from school (sorry Mother). Our childhood here really was idyllic; we barely knew what shoes were for. We would leave home in the morning to play and as long as we got home by dark, we weren't in too much trouble. Today the town has matured and grown but its charms still remain - pristine beaches, a safe harbour and more to do on a lazy afternoon than you could shake a li-lo at.

Parking Car-lotta on the waterfront in Ti Bay in front of our old family homestead, I am able to explore the versatility of “freedom camping” in a van. Unplugged of external power sources and relying on the house battery, I am completely self sufficient with all the joys of home, including Neon, Netflix, and a fridge full of provisions.

After a swim and a few glasses of bubbles the day led to dusk with a reunion of old school friends investigating my bar and new mobile abode. We set up the van’s BBQ on the beach, made a cheese platter and watched the sea gulls scrap and scream over the crackers and morsels that flew their way.

The Bay Of Islands had become a big port for cruise ships pre-Covid. This time of year it would normally be packed with day trippers revelling in what the area has to offer. Now that it's bereft of foreigners, the area is quickly adapting to the new environment. The harbour may be empty of liners, but it’s now full of small pleasure boats, sailing vessels and the several pods of dolphins which frolic here.

As dusk gave way to night and the stars appeared, the gentle lap of the waves on the beach replaced the distant memory of Auckland’s traffic and Ponsonby's nightlife - replaced but not forgotten. (ROSS THORBY)  PN

KEITH MCCONNELL WORKED TO ENSURE YOUR VOICE WAS HEARD The people of Auckland Central, Waitematā, owe Keith McConnell a debt of gratitude. For three years, until his recent death after a short illness Keith, attended every monthly Waitematā Local Board meeting. There are only two constituents who have attended full board meetings every month this term, Keith was one of them.

He attended meetings to observe and report on the quality of governance (or in the case of the Waitematā Local Board lack of quality). He was appalled at what he described as “the worst governance of his professional career” and, after analysing a recording of each meeting, he set about reporting on the governance highs and lows of each local board meeting.

His reports were a depressing read. That said, they were fair, methodical, professional and written by one who had experienced decades of best practice governance in his professional career as a respected and successful chief executive and leader.

The disgraceful governance and leadership that concerned him the most were:

· The Waitematā Local Board’s mismanagement of the

Western Springs Forest which saw over 15,000 established natives decimated.

· The manipulation by the Waitematā Local Board, and senior council leaders of the land approval for the Erebus

Memorial in Sir Dove Myer Robinson Park.

· The law breaking of Cr Pippa Coom, and her encouragement of others to join her on her bike jaunt across the Auckland Harbour Bridge, the busiest stretch of road in the country.

· Chair, Richard Northey’s mileage claims, paid for by ratepayers, from his Coromandel bach to his local board office.

· The inability of Auckland Council’s Chief Executive, Jim

Stabback, to step in and demonstrate the leadership required to rebuild the trust of the people of Waitematā, after it was decimated by Claudia Wyss, Maureen Glassey and other senior council staff.

Halfway through the local board term Keith McConnell compiled a detailed summary of local board member performance. He then rated each board member on a scale of 1-10. The results were an appalling reflection of the quality of contribution by local board members;

2/10 Chair Richard Northey 2/10 Member Kerrin Leonie 2/10 Member Julie Sandilands 4/10 Member Adriana Christie 5/10 Member Graeme Gunthorpe

Conflicts of interest and unprofessional behaviour within the local board continues. Adriana Christie, the board’s liaison with Community Facilities is now working for Community Facilities.

Keith, would be asking questions like (1) Where and when was the job advertised? (2) How many people applied? (3) Let’s have a look at the job description. (4) Who was on the interview panel? (5) Did Member Christie disclose her conflict of interest and did the Chair even care? Waitematā Local Board Members have a habit of sidelining those who hold a mirror up to them. True to form, none of them showed up to pay their respects at his farewell. I felt sick to the stomach at that disrespect shown to someone who relentlessly put the needs of the people of Auckland Central before his own.

Rest in Peace Keith and thank you for being a mainstay of democracy, an unsung hero. Sarah Trotman, ONZM

Sarah Trotman was a Local Board Member for two years until she resigned in protest at the poor governance of the local board and lack of quality leadership by Jim Stabback, CEO of Auckland Council. Keith McConnell rated Trotman’s governance performance 9/10.

REST IN PEACE KEITH McCONNELL I recall the very first moment I met Keith. He came up to me at a public event at which I was no doubt berating some politician for their immediate and obvious failings. He stood out amongst a group of candidates as one of those very rare and special men.

He was a gentleman and a gentle man. Generous with his time and his knowledge, he was a passionate advocate for this city that he so loved.

His counsel was wise and considered. He had a relentless determination to ensure the community got a fair deal and held those in power to account, reminding them, it is a privilege to serve, not just a pay check. He was courageous, a man of conviction and a man of service.

For all his generosity, Keith didn’t suffer fools. He was direct, honest and fair. He saw right through the spin - calling it out. Demanding better. Encouraging others to be better.

I so appreciated the guidance, the conversations, the kindness and the honesty as we started our journey to save Robbies Park. It’s a shame you’ll miss the finale, Sir.

As a community, we owe Keith a great deal. He gave so much of himself and his time to serve all of us. We are here for Sue, if she needs to collect on that debt.

Keith, Sir, travel well. Jo Malcolm

What a fabulous summer it has been, despite all the pandemic tribulations around the world.

Our local experience of Covid-19 may not have been as severe as elsewhere, but we too have experienced the lockdowns, deaths, quarantine, family separations, business closures, shortages of goods and services and the exhaustion of all our essential workers. On top of that we have been affected by another unthinkable war spreading grief abroad.

Naturally, we tend to focus our pessimism and criticism on the apparently random meanderings of our politicians or on the decision-making mistakes we attribute to industry and social service leaders. It’s so easy to be judgemental, but there is a strong possibility that our politicians and leaders are actually doing their best, without maps or instructions for navigating these uncharted waters. There is no doubt that these are truly difficult times as we face unique economic crises, a strange new sickness in our midst and devastating wars abroad. It has been a struggle sometimes to avoid ruminating about it all in a negative way.

My antidote to pessimistic overthinking is to visit the trees in any of our wonderful parks here in Tāmaki Makaurau. As a Ponsonby local, I have explored most of our green spaces, large and small, dotted around the neighbourhoods. They are full of trees that communicate with us soothingly by sharing their pheromones and other scent signals. You just have to loiter long enough under a tree to absorb the benefit or to imagine that you will. Stay a while - sit on the grass - lie back - watch the fragments of sky and slow moving clouds - close your eyes - relax your shoulders - wiggle your toes - listen to your own personal affirmations.

This is how I came to write a letter recently to someone with whom I wish I had shared my admiration and love more freely while he was alive. As I lay in the dappled light, eyes closed, inhaling the lingering smell of recently mown grass hanging low to the ground, I watched him in my mind’s eye mowing his own precious lawn with care all those years ago. I can recommend the healing effect of absorbing tree pheromones while reflecting on the good things in our lives. You too might enjoy composing a letter in the dappled shade of a tree in your local park, with generosity of spirit.

Dearest - you have been my soul mate, my closest associate, my life-long friend and confidant and my best advisor every step of the way in our partnership as a couple and as a family. We have known each other for fifty years, since we first met in that tropical paradise, full of youthful curiosity about each other and about a world beyond the islands. You had massive confidence and charisma and your optimism spread like a carpet in front of us. You were a hero to me.

You have loved our children with a big heart and open mind. This was always clearly evident, even when we struggled with the mundane complications of raising a family and forging our separate careers. You have honoured our social commitment to raise our family with a strong sense of identity, with good purpose, moral ideals and decent social values.

You were a just and honest man of principle, not without faults, but you were brave and kind. You loved your family and gave yourself completely to the difficult role of making our home a safe and happy haven for us all; a place we could leave confidently and a place to which we could return, at any time, in any kind of condition.

Your wisdom and clear-sightedness kept us all resilient whenever any of us faced personal threats and also through the times when we struggled to maintain our collective stability as an extended family.

There is no one I would rather have stand beside me in times of crisis and in times of happiness. I love you still. (ALEXA LAWRENCE)  PN