                 North Shore City's civil defence chief went to sister city Taichung
                 after last September's earthquakes. Picture / Reuters

                 Dialogue: Face-to-face contacts give sister
                 cities great value

                 11.05.2000 - By ANN DUPUIS* and ANNE DE BRUIN* 

                 Brian Rudman got it wrong in his column about sister
                 cities. He asserted that in a world of mass tourism,
                 global television and the Internet, the people-to-people
                 exchange of the worldwide sister cities programme is
                 passe. 

                 On the contrary, the very uncertainty and fragility of
                 relationships born in cyberspace makes all the more
                 important the grassroots, community-driven,
                 face-to-face contact that sister city relationships are
                 renowned for. 

                 About 130 sister city relationships are established in
                 New Zealand. In addition, there are numerous sister
                 school and sister club relationships. For such an
                 extensive network of relationships to operate, there
                 must be benefits. 

                 Sister city relationships initiate contact, an essential for
                 understanding and tolerance. They bring a new
                 awareness of other cultures and skills. Sister cities also
                 bring new perspectives to educational and cultural
                 exchanges. Then there's the economic benefit, difficult
                 to measure but important. 

                 The modern concept of sister cities stems from the
                 mid-1950s. It owes much to President Dwight
                 Eisenhower, who saw it increasing understanding and
                 fostering world peace by furthering communication and
                 person-to-person exchange. The concept took off
                 immediately and today is an important feature of
                 international relations at the grassroots. 

                 In today's political and economic climate, some of the
                 support for sister city relationships has dropped away.
                 Detractors usually make three criticisms. 

                 The first, the ho-hum response, says that most people
                 don't care about sister cities and, if asked, would be
                 pushed to name even one of Auckland's. Who are "most
                 people?" Certainly not the librarians and many patrons
                 of North Shore libraries who have benefited from a
                 unique contribution by students from Konohana High
                 School in Osaka. 

                 In association with sister city exchanges, Konohana
                 students have visited the North Shore nearly every year
                 for the past nine years. They arrange for a bazaar to be
                 set up on Takapuna's main street, where they sell gifts
                 and souvenirs from Japan. The money raised, which has
                 averaged $1500 a time, has been donated to strengthen
                 the cultural sections of the North Shore libraries. 

                 Undoubtedly, too, there are hundreds of Auckland
                 students, their teachers, families and friends, who would
                 have no trouble naming a number of sister cities. These
                 are students who, over the years, have been hosted by
                 families overseas, attending school, enhancing their
                 language skills, sightseeing and deepening their
                 understanding of other cultures. 

                 Take the group of 15 Auckland students who went to
                 Japan last year. These students, representing more
                 than 10 Auckland schools, took part in a 10-day visit to
                 Auckland's sister city of Fukuoka. 

                 The second common criticism of sister cities concerns
                 the "strange choice" of the cities selected. These are
                 strange, however, only for those unaware of how the
                 relationships are initiated and develop. 

                 Let's take Ningbo, Waitakere City's sister city. Ningbo,
                 an important commercial city in China, is not at all an
                 odd choice. In fact, the Waitakere City-Ningbo
                 relationship highlights some salient points of sister city
                 relationships. 

                 It is one of sharing ideas, knowledge and technology. It
                 came about because of the awareness of Chinese
                 people here and in China, of Waitakere City's reputation
                 as an eco-city, which has implemented innovative
                 strategies for ensuring a sustainable future and
                 enhancing the lives of its citizens. 

                 Ningbo city officials, especially, saw themselves facing
                 similar problems. Their wish to know more about issues
                 of sustainability - particularly sustainable building and
                 technology - initiated the sister city relationship. While
                 this has an economic base, it is broadening to include
                 cultural and work exchanges. 

                 A third criticism is that sister cities are just a junket for
                 politicians, who fly to exotic-sounding places like
                 Kakogawa, Pusan and Taichung on ratepayers' money.
                 If critics better understood the politics of sister cities,
                 this criticism would subside. 

                 City councils do not enter these relationships lightly. It
                 is necessary for the mayors of both cities to sign an
                 agreement for the sister city relationship to become
                 formally established. Once established, city officials
                 must cement the links through formal visits. 

                 North Shore City's contract with Taichung in Taiwan
                 shows how serious the sister city agreements are. Both
                 cities agree to "establish lasting, friendly relations." The
                 contract also shows that both cities "shall strive to
                 maintain their close alliance and improve bilateral
                 understanding and trust" and "make every effort to
                 contribute to the free and prosperous life of people in
                 both Taichung and North Shore City." 

                 Both cities also agree to "exchange experiences
                 concerning municipal construction projects, to organise
                 visits and to learn from each other" and to "promote
                 cooperation in the area of trade, cultural, economic
                 affairs, education and social development." 

                 It is not surprising, therefore, that Mayor George Wood
                 visited Taiwan last August to cement North Shore's
                 commitment to its relationship with Taichung. This trip
                 was not paid for by ratepayers. 

                 Nor is it surprising that Mr Wood sent North Shore
                 City's civil defence chief, David Keay, to Taichung in the
                 aftermath of last September's devastating earthquake.
                 This visit was not only a gesture of sister city support,
                 but also an opportunity for Mr Keay to offer his expertise
                 to help deal with a disastrous situation in which 2100
                 lives were lost. 

                 The development of deeper cultural understandings and
                 tolerance are no less important today than they were 50
                 years ago. Today's world is still being torn apart through
                 conflict. Racism is rife. Any programme that aims to
                 overcome such socially harmful impulses deserves
                 strong community support. 

                 * Dr Ann Dupuis is a senior lecturer in sociology and Dr
                 Anne de Bruin is an associate professor of economics
                 at Massey University, Albany.

How pupils make schools, not the
                 other way round

                 11.05.2000 - By SHELLEY BRIDGEMAN 

                 It's that time of year again when some schools can
                 vaunt their academic successes with pride while others
                 shuffle off into the corner wearing dunces' caps. 

                 School certificate results broken down school by school
                 have just been released by the Qualifications Authority
                 and every school's percentage of grades is on show for
                 all to see. 

                 There are no great surprises about which Auckland
                 schools rated the best. St Cuthbert's (private girls')
                 College was first with 34.4 per cent of A grades, while
                 Diocesan (private) School for Girls was next with 29.9
                 per cent. 

                 Before the teachers at those schools start slapping
                 themselves on the back and shouting "jolly hockey
                 sticks," perhaps some thought should be given to the
                 often-overlooked fact that it is the individual pupils who
                 gained those marks. 

                 "Oh yes," the teachers might reply. "But we taught
                 them, so the glory can be reflected back to us and, by
                 extension, to our schools." Oh ... really? 

                 Hang on a minute. There's another factor that has more
                 to do with location and "nature and nurture" influences
                 on the pupil than anything the school itself might do. 

                 St Cuth's and Dio are slap-bang in the middle of the
                 rarefied and leafy Auckland suburb of Epsom. And we
                 all know that you could buy a small car for the annual
                 fees paid to send a pupil there. 

                 Therefore, we can assume a couple of things. First, the
                 parents of these girls aren't short of a buck or two, or at
                 least have an income sufficient to sustain a lifestyle that
                 includes opting to pay for education when the state
                 supplies it free of charge. 

                 Secondly, the proportion of these parents who are
                 professionals - excuse the archaic term - would be
                 relatively high. Doctors and lawyers are a dime a dozen
                 in that part of town, as well as in other exclusive
                 suburbs nearby. From the jobs these parents have, we
                 can also assume two things: they have the ability to
                 pass exams themselves and, most significantly, they
                 have a belief in the value of education. 

                 After all, without a good education where would they be
                 today? Their diligent studying and successful
                 exam-passing has brought them more rewards than
                 probably many of them ever dared to dream of - big, old
                 houses with underfloor heating, landscaped gardens and
                 camellia trees set on manicured lawns, European cars,
                 exotic holidays and, of course, a good education for
                 their children. 

                 And, by hokey, those children will get a good education.
                 Not only will they be sent to the best schools but their
                 parents will use every weapon in their arsenal to ensure
                 their investment is not wasted. 

                 "You'd better pass your exams. I don't pay all this
                 money to see you hanging out at the mall." 

                 "If you want a new car, Jemima, you'd better do well at
                 school. How will you ever get to university if you can't
                 even pass school c?" And so on. 

                 The parents have passed their values on to their children
                 and probably impressed on them the dire consequences
                 for mucking up at school. 

                 "How will you ever get a good job if you don't study and
                 then how will you ever give your own children a good
                 education without a sizeable income?" Thus the cycle
                 is complete. 

                 So the pupils at these so-called top schools have had
                 the value of academic success well and truly conveyed
                 to them by their parents - sometimes overtly and
                 sometimes in more subtle ways. And this, of course,
                 more than anything the school does, guarantees a
                 certain attitude towards exams and learning. These
                 pupils could be sent to almost any school and they'd
                 still shine in school certificate. 

                 A cursory glance at the rest of the results shows many
                 schools with a Christian or Maori focus scoring
                 particularly poorly for school certificate results. This
                 simply reinforces the argument. 

                 The fact that these parents have chosen to send a
                 children to such a school is evidence that they possess
                 values other than the passing of exams and the material
                 success to which it may lead. 

                 Rather, in their choice of school, these parents have
                 been guided more by religion and culture. And rather
                 than impressing mainly the importance of a good
                 education on their children, they've emphasised the
                 value of family, culture and spirituality. 

                 While the pupils in Epsom are doing their prep on the
                 latest laptop computers, these other children might be
                 in a church or on a marae, nourishing their spiritual life. 

                 So, to all those top-scoring schools: please stay behind
                 and write 1000 lines, "Perhaps our pupils make us,
                 rather than the other way around." 

?	Shelley Bridgeman is an Auckland writer.

User-pays answers to health
                 problems

                 11.05.2000 - By GARTH GEORGE 

                 More teenagers are drinking more booze than ever, and
                 many are drinking themselves regularly into
                 drunkenness. 

                 More teenage girls are smoking than ever, in spite of
                 decades of tut-tutting and proscriptions by the smoking
                 police. 

                 Teenage girls are selling their bodies on the streets of
                 Auckland, and more women are aborting unplanned
                 pregnancies than ever, in spite of the decades-long
                 tut-tutting and other antics of the pregnancy police. 

                 Are you surprised? No? Well, I'm not either. 

                 Long before a Government not known for its intelligence
                 decided, apparently for no reason at all, to lower the
                 drinking age to 18, I predicted that such a course would
                 generate greatly increased social problems among our
                 youth - as if they didn't have enough already. 

                 I did that with confidence because I know that a number
                 of American states dropped their legal drinking ages to
                 18, then very quickly raised them again because of the
                 frightful damage teenage drunkenness was causing in
                 their communities. 

                 But our politicians have never been ones to take notice
                 of trends overseas, which helps to explain an awful lot of
                 legislative stupidity over the years. You'd think they
                 would inform themselves properly before making
                 decisions. 

                 The problem of teenage drinking is only just starting. In
                 years to come, we will reap the whirlwind of a lower
                 drinking age when many of those who overindulge in
                 alcohol in their teens will find themselves hooked on the
                 stuff as adults. 

                 Take it from one who knows, one who was seriously
                 addicted by his early 20s and who was a hopeless,
                 dead-man- walking alcoholic at 35, penniless,
                 homeless, unemployable, alone and probably certifiably
                 insane. 

                 But I've never managed to quit smoking and, being a
                 smoker, I have known for years that the smoking police,
                 particularly when it comes to young people, have been
                 pretty much wasting their time and our money. 

                 On Tuesday, the Government raised the price of a
                 packet of smokes by $1, which means my smoking bill
                 jumps by nearly $10 a week. The excuse is that a
                 higher price will cause more smokers to quit; the reason
                 is that the Government is, as always, short of cash and
                 wants to raise an extra $110 million a year in taxes that
                 won't offend most people, because most people don't
                 smoke. 

                 But I'm willing to bet that it will make as much difference
                 to the number of smokers, and particularly young
                 people, as the ugly, fatuous warnings lately attached to
                 once-attractive cigarette packets - zilch. 

                 However, if the Government were prepared to make
                 some of that $110 million available to subsidise quit-
                 smoking therapies, people like me might give the matter
                 a second thought. 

                 It has always seemed odd that, while dozens of
                 preventive health measures are heavily subsidised by
                 the health vote, help for smokers never has been. It's
                 odd because for decades now smoking has been
                 presented as the biggest, nastiest and costliest health
                 ogre of the age. (It's not, of course: it just makes an
                 easy target.) 

                 I resent having to pay nearly as much a week as I
                 spend on smokes for a course of stop-smoking
                 treatment. But governments have never been prepared
                 to put their money where their mouths are when it
                 comes to smoking, and it looks like this one is no
                 different. 

                 So with dearer smokes and more freely available booze,
                 I guess more and more schoolgirls can be expected to
                 take to the streets to pay for their nicotine and alcohol.
                 Others will find that, under the influence of liquor, their
                 pants come down only fractionally slower than their
                 inhibitions are lowered. 

                 And that must, as a matter of course, lead to more
                 unwanted pregnancies and a bigger demand on our
                 heavily state-subsidised abortion services. 

                 So it seems to me that if raising the price of cigarettes
                 and tobacco will reduce the health problems caused by
                 smoking, putting an extra dollar on every glass of beer
                 and nip of spirits will have the same effect on the health
                 problems caused by drinking. 

                 And if the Government made women pay the full cost of
                 abortions, that would surely have a salutary effect on
                 the ever-increasing rate of unwanted pregnancies. 

                 What could be simpler?

Brian Park is unable to move his limbs and can breathe only with the
                 help of a ventilator. Herald Picture / John McCombe

                 The right to die: whose decision?

                 09.06.2000 - By NAOMI LARKIN 

                 Tetraplegic Brian Park's pleas for the right to die -
                 followed by the suggestion that perhaps he did not
                 mean he wanted to die right now - cut to the heart of the
                 euthanasia debate. 

                 A truck accident left the 32-year-old in the Burwood
                 Spinal Unit with his neck broken in two places, unable
                 to breathe for himself or move his limbs. 

                 He was filmed on May 29 for a television programme
                 that screened on Tuesday outlining his request to
                 Canterbury Health for the right to die. He wanted the
                 unit to respect his wishes and turn off his ventilator. 

                 On Wednesday, the unit's clinical director, Dr Richard
                 Acland, said Mr Park still wanted the right to decide to
                 end his life. However, "he is not saying he wants to do it
                 now." 

                 The Park case shows that people can change their
                 mind if given the right care, said Dr Roderick MacLeod,
                 director of palliative care at the Mary Potter Hospice in
                 Wellington. 

                 "The real difficulty that I have with the whole of the
                 euthanasia debate is, when do you make the decision
                 to do this? Is it today or tomorrow? Because Mr Park
                 would probably have quite happily killed himself three
                 weeks ago, but it looks as if he may be changing his
                 mind a little bit." 

                 But controversial Australian right-to-die advocate Dr
                 Philip Nitschke, who coincidentally arrived in New
                 Zealand this week for a speaking tour, said the notion of
                 changing one's mind was a red herring in the overall
                 debate. 

                 The issue was Mr Park's right to continue or to end his
                 life, and the law prevented him from having this choice,
                 said the Australian labelled Dr Death by opponents and
                 the media. 

                 "If Mr Park had had the right, the question about
                 whether he would have gone ahead yesterday, today or
                 tomorrow is somewhat irrelevant. 

                 "I don't see that a person changing their mind
                 represents a problem with euthanasia. The thing about
                 voluntary euthanasia is that people are able to act on
                 what they believe to be in their best interest. If for
                 whatever reason they change their mind, or they don't
                 take any action - that's fine." 

                 But Dr MacLeod believed that the euthanasia debate all
                 too often focused on the "emotive cry for help, the crisis
                 thing," such as Mr Park's television appearance. 

                 When caregivers were given time to deal with these
                 people, and the sufferers were offered the full range of
                 expert palliative care available, their situation almost
                 always changed, he said. 

                 "A large proportion of people who express the wish to
                 be dead are saying: 'I don't want to live like this.' 

                 "We work with those people, we alleviate some of their
                 physical and psychological discomfort and address
                 some of the spiritual issues. Some time later they begin
                 to reframe their view of the future and they don't talk any
                 longer about that wish to die." 

                 Dr MacLeod said the debate often failed to acknowledge
                 advances in palliative care in New Zealand. Palliative
                 care encompasses the range of physical,
                 psychological, social and spiritual therapies for those
                 facing death. 

                 "One of the prime functions of palliative care is to take
                 the focus away from dying and put it on living. 

                 "I'm opposed to euthanasia because I think that there
                 are almost always other viable options, and the
                 provision of hospice and palliative care is a very real one
                 and it's not used enough in New Zealand." 

                 The decision to end one's life needed to be made when
                 fully informed, and in Mr Park's case it appeared that he
                 was only now becoming aware of the alternatives. 

                 "Every week in our service we have people who cannot
                 see past the end of a day where they have pain or
                 nausea or breathlessness which is so disabling and
                 they feel that they are suffering unduly. 

                 "If we can alleviate those sufferings, they view life
                 differently." 

                 Jack Jones, president of the Voluntary Euthanasia
                 Society in Auckland, which brought Dr Nitschke to New
                 Zealand, said there was no denying the good work of
                 the hospice movement, but those who found hospice life
                 "repugnant" should have an option. 

                 "They are in the forefront of modern methods of pain
                 relief, but they can't relieve 100 per cent of the pain in
                 100 per cent of the cases." 

                 Dr MacLeod said there was a lack of debate in this
                 country over the meaning of life and the value of
                 individuals; instead the emphasis was on what people
                 could do. 

                 But Dr Nitschke believed that the debate first had to
                 focus on establishing a legislative framework giving
                 people the right to end their lives. 

                 In New Zealand, suicide is no longer a criminal offence,
                 but to counsel, aid or abet suicide carries the same
                 penalty as manslaughter. 

                 According to Dr Nitschke, this has created an
                 underground, inequitable situation where some people
                 who want to die are able to get assistance from some
                 doctors while others are not. 

                 "The strongest argument for why we need euthanasia
                 law is because what we have at present is
                 unacceptable. It's okay for some people, but I keep
                 seeing the people it's not okay for. 

                 "You might go off to your doctor when you find yourself
                 suffering from a recently diagnosed terminal illness and
                 ask for help and get some [or] you might not. It's a
                 lottery." 

                 The most common way in New Zealand and Australia
                 for people over 75 to end their lives is by hanging. 

                 "It's not a simple matter to end your life, and so people
                 end up hanging themselves because that works and it's
                 easy," Dr Nitschke said. 

                 "They can't stop you getting hold of a piece of rope and
                 standing on a chair. I think we can do better for people
                 in our society than allowing that sort of obscenity to
                 continue, and to do nothing about good law is to allow
                 that situation to continue." 

                 Dr Nitschke rose to prominence when he helped four
                 patients to end their lives in 1997 after the Northern
                 Territory legalised euthanasia. The federal Government
                 overturned the territory's law after seven months. 

                 As part of his speaking tour, he will outline the work his
                 Australian clinics do advising people about drugs, the
                 law and medical expertise in relation to euthanasia. 

                 Dr Nitschke said most of the opposition came from the
                 churches, which "fight fearlessly to try and prevent
                 politicians from grappling with the issue," and from
                 fellow medical practitioners who "sit on their hands and
                 don't want change." 

                 The Rev Dr Neil Vaney, a lecturer in Christian ethics at
                 the University of Auckland School of Theology and
                 spokesman for the Catholic Church in Auckland, said Dr
                 Nitschke was obviously compassionate, but the legal
                 and social consequences of euthanasia ran deep. 

                 "It is an incredibly individualistic approach to the ills of
                 society. Always you will have tragic, sad cases. I can't
                 see that giving people the ability to euthanise
                 themselves is going to remove those." 

                 Dr Nitschke was playing an easy card by strongly
                 pushing the plight of suffering people, but society had to
                 grapple with difficult ethical questions. 

                 "Who has the right to kill? Who sets the guidelines, and
                 who does it? If we do it by machine, who sells the
                 machine?" 

                 However, Dr Vaney believed that Mr Park had the right
                 to end his life. 

                 "He is only living because of a machine, and that is
                 extraordinarily burdensome and it's not what we would
                 call a usual state of human life. It's just the
                 extraordinary technology we have now which can keep
                 people alive. 

                 "So if he comes to the decision after good reflection and
                 reconciliation with his family and still wants to do that -
                 and as long as everyone agrees he's compos mentis -
                 he's got the right to do that. 

                 "I think as a moralist we wouldn't even see this as
                 euthanasia; this is a different category."


Steep learning curve to telling it
                 straight

                 09.06.2000 - By JOE BENNETT 

                 It rose in front of us, sheer, gaunt and majestic. I
                 gasped. Pete gulped. 

                 Side by side, we stood to gasp and gulp in wonder.
                 Much had we travelled in the realms of cliche but never
                 had we seen so steep a learning curve. 

                 In comparison with this awesome steepness, every
                 other peak that Pete and I had climbed seemed little
                 more than a level playing field. 

                 We knew immediately that we had no choice. Before us
                 stood the ultimate challenge, our new mission
                 statement. We would tackle this learning curve head on.
                 We would put our noses to the grindstone till they bled.
                 Nothing would stand in the way of our ascent. 

                 "Enjoy," said Pete with a wry grim smile. 

                 "Enjoy what?" I asked, but he was already away. 

                 Up we plodded, step after laborious step, pausing
                 occasionally to look around us. We knew what we were
                 looking for. We sought a window of opportunity, just a
                 small one which would grant a view of the knowledge
                 economy from the top of the learning curve. But
                 windows of opportunity are few and far between and the
                 going was tough. Obstacles abounded. We waded
                 through income streams and held each other back from
                 cunningly concealed poverty traps. 

                 After 24 hours we were on the point of calling it a day
                 when Pete clasped my shoulder. 

                 "Look," he said. 

                 I looked. On the slope ahead of us, miraculously it
                 seemed, stood a small city - square, immaculate with
                 cafes and bars and colonnades. We sank gratefully
                 down at a cafe table, ordered refreshments from the
                 waitperson and applied ourselves to the problems that
                 faced us. But hard though we thought, no ideas came.
                 Then silently Pete rose and went to stand beyond the
                 furthest building, his chin cupped in his hand. Almost
                 immediately he yelped with delight. 

                 I ran to join him. 

                 "I've got it," he exclaimed. 

                 "Ah," I said as the truth dawned on me, "of course,
                 thinking outside the square. Why didn't I think of that?" 

                 "Never mind that," said Pete, "Look." 

                 I looked and beheld a sight I shall never forget as long
                 as I remember it. 

                 There stood the window that we sought and, oh, what
                 light through yonder window broke. It was the light of
                 opportunity. Without another word Pete and I ran to it,
                 fumbled frantically with the catch, threw open the
                 window and beheld spread out before us ... but the story
                 is almost too sad to tell. Our hopes were dashed. They
                 lay in tatters round our ankles. There seemed no point
                 in hauling them back up. 

                 For where we had expected to see the verdant fields of
                 a knowledge economy, or at least the pleasant pastures
                 of a win-win situation, we beheld nothing more and
                 nothing less than the smoking rubble of a worst-case
                 scenario. It was almost too much to bear. 

                 I looked at Pete. Pete looked at me. It would not be
                 stretching a point to say we looked at each other. 

                 Despair was etched on our faces. Horror was tattooed
                 on our chests. Hopelessness was scribbled on our
                 thighs. There was nothing for it. We had only one card
                 left to play and we played it. 

                 Pete reinvented the wheel. Instantly I put my shoulder to
                 it, but Pete pulled me roughly away, reinvented another
                 wheel, attached the two of them to a bicycle frame that
                 he had also reinvented and together we pedalled back
                 down the learning curve as if the devil were after us. I
                 looked over my shoulder. The devil was after us. 

                 "Faster," I screamed. 

                 Downwards we flew, past the lowest common
                 denominators who backed away in fear, past the level
                 playing field where someone was moving the goalposts,
                 back towards the sanctuary of the old economy when
                 without warning a vehicle appeared in front of us with
                 flashing lights and blaring siren. 

                 We were going too fast to stop and we crashed slap
                 bang into the ambulance at the foot of the cliff. 

                 Pete was thrown from the bike, performed a double
                 somersault and a single dead-cat bounce then lay as
                 still as stone. 

                 "A health professional, a health professional," I
                 screamed, "my kingdom for a health professional." I
                 rushed to Pete's side and cradled his head in my
                 hands. 

                 "Pete, Pete," I whispered urgently, "use your
                 communication skills to me." 

                 But it was no good. Pete's window of opportunity had
                 closed for ever. He had reached his bottom line.

Lack of talent proves no barrier to
                 fame

                 09.06.2000 - LINDA PORTER* wonders why people feel
                 a need to bestow fame and its trappings on those of
                 questionable talent. 

                 Have you ever wondered if Mozart was continually
                 hounded by autograph hunters? Or mobbed in the
                 quaint streets of Vienna by the 18th century equivalent
                 of the paparazzi? 

                 Or if Sir Francis Drake had a problem with people
                 wanting to touch him, or with souvenir hunters rooting
                 through his rubbish bin searching for mementos from
                 foreign lands? 

                 Or if William Shakespeare was constantly followed by
                 hysterical, screaming girls crying, "Bill, we love you"? 

                 I cannot think of an author today who has that problem.
                 I wonder why. 

                 Perhaps it is a part of the whole phenomenon. Most
                 authors are fairly talented. But today, more than ever,
                 you don't need to be talented to be famous. Talent does
                 not even enter into it a lot of the time but luck, good
                 marketing and great public relations do. 

                 When John Lennon mused that the Beatles were bigger
                 than Jesus, it caused an uproar. But he wasn't far off
                 the truth. 

                 The Beatles were among the first and still remain,
                 together with many newer and more outrageous
                 phenomenons, the icons of our age. We worship at the
                 altars of their fame - concert stages, movie screens,
                 television sets. 

                 We make pilgrimages to their homes and birthplaces -
                 Graceland, the ostentatious home of Elvis Presley in
                 Memphis, Althrop, the stately ancestral home of
                 Princess Diana in England, and 20 Forthlin Rd,
                 Liverpool, Paul McCartney's modest semi-detached
                 childhood residence. 

                 Thousands of us make the journey to these and places
                 like them each year. For some, it's a lifetime goal. For
                 others, it's a chance to make big money. 

                 We buy, sell, and collect their artefacts,including
                 clothes, shoes, makeup, musical instruments,
                 handwritten notes and any number of other items. 

                 The sky's the limit as far as what it is, and how much
                 we'll pay for it. Anything goes under the hammer. 

                 A gaudy purple lipstick used by Madonna (the singer, I
                 hasten to add) with a certificate of authenticity sold for
                 $US39.95 ($82) at ebay.com. (I would have bought it but
                 it wasn't my colour). 

                 At the other end of the scale, Marilyn Monroe's
                 nude-look evening dress sold at Christie's for $1.2
                 million. 

                 I'm not saying that some of these people don't deserve
                 our admiration or respect. But have we taken it too far? I
                 think we know that we have, but we're now almost
                 powerless to stop it. 

                 Fame, and its trappings, have become our ultimate
                 goal. If we can't have them ourselves, we acquire them
                 vicariously, and we don't really care about the cost to
                 that person's privacy or life. After all, it is "the price of
                 fame." The Princess of Wales was the prime example of
                 this. 

                 It's not just something that occurs overseas. Some New
                 Zealand women's magazines, in particular, seem to be
                 continually pushing the envelope of what they think we
                 want and need to know about the celebrity status of the
                 rich and famous, and the plain pushy. 

                 Is it all part of the job for our television newsreaders and
                 presenters these days? Are they expected by their
                 bosses to go out there, and talk publicly about their
                 "days of hell," "narrow escape from death" or "hot new
                 romance"? I guess they must be, and what does that
                 say about us? 

                 For many, the Beatles really are bigger than Jesus. If
                 Western religions could harness the power of celebrity,
                 they would be filling churches faster than you can say
                 Leonardo Di Vinci. No, sorry, that be should be
                 Leonardo Di Caprio. 

?	Linda Porter is a Hamilton freelance writer.

Maire Leadbeater and that hedge. Herald Picture / Kenny Rodger 
 
Rudman's city: 'Spite strip' hedging stops peace 
 
04.09.2000 - By BRIAN RUDMAN 
It's a year now since the battle over the great privet hedge of Balmoral erupted, but peace seems as far away as ever. This despite 
months of shuttle diplomacy by veteran peacenik and Auckland City councillor Maire Leadbeater. 
Her latest solution, backed by the local community board, is to rip out the ancient street-long hedge and replace it with pittosporums. 
But as the hedge itself is only a side issue in the whole affair, this may just complicate the problem rather than solve it. 
Like me, you've probably forgotten the detail since my last bulletin from the front. 
Back in 1918 the developer of the Queens Ave subdivision was required to build a public access road to his housing development. To 
prevent the developer of adjacent land to the south getting a free ride on his roadway, he set aside a 30cm wide strip of land between 
his road and the neighbouring development. 
This sliver of land, vested as the joint property of all the Queens Ave residents, became an effective barrier against Halston Roaders 
using Queens Ave to access their homes. 
Between this spite strip - a recognised property term at the time - and the roadway, was a broad council-owned berm. 
Alongside the strip the council planted a privet and tecoma hedge, now more than 3m high. A row of cherry blossom trees on the berm 
also attracts springtime sightseers. 
Over the years, attempts to breach the hedge by the outlanders of Halston Rd have been put down by their Queens Ave neighbours. 
The latest attempt was last September when Halston Roader Bruce Parr applied for permission to put in driveway to the rear of his 
property. 
His next-door neighbour Carol Ann Woodward joined in and soon lawyers letters were flying both ways across his back fence. 
For good measure, the Halston Roaders also claimed the privet fence was injurious to their health. 
Across in Queens Ave, the official trustees of the spite strip, family therapists David and Ann Epston, accused their neighbours of 
trying to destroy their "green belt." Highly suspicious that ulterior motives lay behind the health arguments, Mrs Epston refused to 
contemplate the replacement of the hedge until their neighbours "abandoned their adversarial approach [and] all attempts to take our 
land or gain access across it to our street." 
For most of this year Mrs Leadbeater has shuttled between the two streets - they won't meet together - seeking common ground. One 
breakthrough was getting the Halston Roaders to withdraw their petition demanding access rights through Queens Ave. They did that 
after realising the council had no legal power to breach the spite strip. But instead of giving up the fight, the Halston Roaders have dug 
their toes in over the "health hazards" of the hedge. Everything from causing hayfever to harbouring rats. 
Mrs Epston, it seems, remains highly suspicious of any change. Despite this, the community board at its last meeting, recommended to 
the council that a pittosporum hedge replace the existing hedge, about a metre closer to the roadway. 
As a gesture to the Queens Ave residents, it also supported declaring the berm a reserve. But resolution is no nearer and streetscape 
operations manager Surendra Dass has referred the matter to the city solicitor. 
Back in April an exasperated Mr Dass said an "incredible amount of time and energy had been expended, to no avail, towards finding 
a mutually acceptable solution." Council officers would not spend "any more time and resources on the hedge issue." Famous less than 
last words. 
Mr Dass' worry now is that the community board's shuttle diplomacy, however well-meaning, did not quite fit the council's formal 
consultation model. 
He suspects there might be a need to go back to square one with formal surveys and public meetings. Also, removing the hedge would 
involve working within the dripline of the cherry trees, thus requiring a full resource consent hearing, complete with yet more 
consultation. I'll update you this time next year. 

Shane Jones (left) is shown a seafood selection by Moana Pacific worker Colin Black in Auckland. Herald Picture / Kenny Rodger 
 
Fisheries mess calls for miracle worker 
 
04.09.2000 - By ANGELA GREGORY maori issues reporter 
The Bible says Jesus fed a multitude with five loaves and two fishes. Distributing $800 million of Maori fishing assets may need the 
same miraculous touch. 
The man called to perform the miracle is 40-year-old Shane Jones, newly appointed head of the revamped Treaty of Waitangi 
Fisheries Commission and its youngest member, as he has been since he first joined in 1993. 
The commission, in its various forms, has for 11 years been minding a bundle of quota, cash and fishing company shares, the first lot 
transferred in the 1989 pre-settlement deal with the Crown. 
In 1992 it further gained a 50 per cent share in Sealord Products (New Zealand's biggest fishing company) and 20 per cent of all new 
species brought into the quota management system as a full and final settlement for all fisheries claims. 
The commission is charged with ensuring the allocation of those assets to iwi for the benefit of all Maori, but has been dogged by 
endless litigation and accusations of bias. 
Its attempt last year to secure an allocation model was stymied by doubts about whether the proposal had enough support, and 
courtroom challenges by feisty urban Maori authorities wanting a slice of the action. 
The proposed carveup of the pre-settlement assets would have seen inshore fish stocks allocated on an iwi coastline basis, and 
deepwater stocks evenly split between a coastline and population-based iwi share. 
A $10 million development fund was to be put aside for Maori who did not maintain tribal links. 
The model, accepted by most iwi, is now in abeyance as its underlying premise that traditional tribes should handle the assets is to be 
challenged before the Privy Council in London early next year. 
Mr Jones and his 10 commissioners have meanwhile been given a year to find a way out of the impasse. 
Through all the legal wrangling since 1995 the courts have defined iwi as the traditional tribal authorities, and it is through them that 
the fisheries assets are to be distributed. 
Those who debate the definition argue that the tribes are not capable of delivering benefits to "all Maori" as required by the fisheries 
settlement legislation. 
The harshest critics rubbish traditional iwi as archaic, rural, poorly led, and in some cases even untrustworthy. 
Urban Maori authorities have been pursuing their case through the courts, although some have recently indicated that they might settle 
for more cash in the development fund. 
Mr Jones' preferred option, what he calls his "non-parochial" and pan-Maori view, has been to not allocate the assets at all. 
He wanted them retained in a critical commercial mass under the control of the commission, from which dividends could be issued. 
"I have said on a number of occasions that such a commercial approach will outlast any political hotchpotch solution." 
Mr Jones hoped a restructuring of the commission into a businesslike body would be possible under the existing framework, but legal 
advice was needed. 
"The legislation can be interpreted in a range of ways, therein lies the difficulty." 
Now he is chairman, Mr Jones says he will have to rise above his personal views and remain "somewhat aloof." 
He is not predicting any outcomes except that there will be one, that it will be positive for all Maori, and that "there will be no sudden 
lurches." 
He has faith that his fellow commissioners are capable of approaching the complex issues with open minds. 
Maori Affairs Minister Parekura Horomia has brought seven new faces into the commission. High-profile members ousted to make 
way for them included the chairman, Sir Tipene O'Regan, of Ngai Tahu, and Tainui leader Sir Robert Mahuta. 
The new members are being widely applauded for their mix of skills and experience. Appointees regarded as particularly significant 
because of their strongly urban backgrounds include June Jackson (chief executive of the Manukau Urban Maori Authority) and June 
Mariu (chairwoman of the Waipareira Trust.) 
The appointment of retired District Court judge Ken Mason was a surprise, but it was well received by those who respected his "sharp 
mind and fairness." 
Mr Jones said he did not believe any of the commissioners would undermine the importance of traditional iwi in any scheme designed 
to distribute benefits and assets. 
A starting point for their discussions would be examining the legislative framework underpinning the commission's role. 
Such a move could rattle the cages of the Treaty Tribes Coalition and Ngai Tahu, from which murmurings of possible legal action are 
already being heard. 
They favour the former commission's model of allocation from which coastal iwi, which they represent, did very well. 
Mr Jones is confident, however, that the "credibility" of participation and process will legitimise his commission's eventual decision, 
and limit its exposure to legal challenges. 
Wellington lawyer and member of the Maori Law Commission Moana Jackson said the new commission was well skilled but would 
face inevitable problems. 
"What they have been asked to do is incredibly difficult, even impossible unless the framework is reviewed ... it still has potential 
fishhooks." 
Mr Jackson said there needed to be a clear distinction between who was entitled to the assets and the most effective method of 
distribution. "There has been too much confusion between iwi fishing rights and asset distribution." 
Another Wellington lawyer, Donna Hall, said a lot of hope was vested in the new commission and its ability to stand at arm's length. 
But the commission's job was made extremely difficult by the legal definition of iwi. 
"They are stuck with this dopey decision which leaves the new commission no flexibility." 
Donna Hall is taking the case to the Privy Council for Wellington's urban Maori authority and as a representative action backed by the 
NZ Maori Council on behalf of individual Maori considered unlikely to benefit from the proposed allocation model. 
She said the latter action arose from accusations of bias in the old commission over its interim allocation of fishing leases since 1990. 
She implored the new commission to open the books: "That will tell the full story." 
The story so far: 
* In 1989, the Maori Fisheries Commission is set up to hold the assets from the interim fisheries settlement of that year. They include 
60,000 tonnes of fish quota, a 68 per cent interest in Moana Pacific Fisheries, and about $50 million cash. 
* In 1992, Crown and Maori sign a final deed of settlement, known as the Sealords deal, with half shares in Sealord Products and 
more quota. The Treaty of Waitangi Fisheries Commission, or Te Ohu Kai Moana, is formed and charged with ensuring that the 
allocation of the assets benefits all Maori. 
* In 1995, the litigation begins: Lower Hutt and Auckland urban Maori authorities take High Court action to claim a share of the 
assets. The Waitangi Tribunal agrees to hear a claim lodged by the urban authorities, but the commission obtains a ruling to keep them 
out. The case then goes to the Court of Appeal, which rules that city-based Maori non-tribal links can receive a share of fisheries 
settlement assets. 
* In 1997, the Privy Council overturns the ruling, saying the court had defined iwi without hearing submissions on it. Further High 
Court action alleges that the commission is biased. 
* In 1998, the High Court rules that the allocation of assets should be by iwi, the traditional tribes. The Optimum Model for Allocation 
is finalised with majority support. 
* In 1999, the commission planned to report to the Government on the model, but was prevented by an interim court order. The Court 
of Appeal, meanwhile, upholds the High Court decision. 
* This year papers are filed to the Privy Council by parties including Wellington and Auckland urban Maori authorities. A hearing is 
expected next February. 
* Recently appointed Maori Affairs Minister Parekura Horomia announces the new, and overdue, appointments to an 11-member 
commission which now has a year to find an acceptable compromise to end the disputes. 

Every property's seller and buyer has a different set of demands. Herald File Picture 
 
Dialogue: Salespeople in hot seat if property auctioned 
 
04.09.2000 - By ROSS FOREMAN* 
As with many other industries with a glamorous image, a lot of people are lured to a career in real estate thinking that the pickings will 
be easy. 
The truth is very different. It is a demanding job where you are only as good as your last sale. Those who don't perform simply don't 
survive. 
Unlike the image portrayed in Chris Skinner's article (Herald, August 31), selling property is a sophisticated business that requires 
trust and credible actions. 
It is well documented that selling a house can be a stressful time. But it is the job of the real estate salesperson to make selling your 
house as stress-free as possible. 
It is a partnership with the vendor and it is in the interests of both parties to make it work. 
Mr Skinner's suggestion that real estate salespeople are untrustworthy is nonsense. Every professional in this business goes out of their 
way to ensure that there is no friction between them and the vendor. 
A good real estate salesperson understands the need to build a trusting relationship. 
Over the years I have worked with, and coached, hundreds of salespeople who know that their reputation is to be cherished and cared 
for. 
In the real estate business, reputation and credibility are earned over time. They matter a great deal. If a salesperson acts in a 
questionable manner, they simply won't get any repeat business. Real estate is a word-of-mouth business, so salespeople understand 
the importance of not offending anyone. We live in a small country and you simply can't get away with treating people badly. 
However, salespeople do have to know how to assess the going market rate so they can quantify it from a buyer's point-of-view. Every 
property's seller and buyer has a different set of demands and it is the task of a good salesperson to marry the right ingredients to get 
the best deal. A lot of energy goes into giving the right advice, even though sometimes that may not result in a sale. 
Selling by auction puts a great deal of responsibility on the salesperson. They have to make a serious commitment to the vendor and 
they need to maximise all the marketing opportunities to ensure they find buyers. They are on show. The process is transparent and the 
salesperson is unquestionably in the hot seat. 
Mr Skinner may not like auctions but the fact is they are the oldest selling system known to mankind - in fact auctioneering is the 
second-oldest profession in the world. 
And auctions will continue to flourish. The process is simple - you either want the property and bid to where you are comfortable - or 
you don't bid. Nobody can force you. 
It's the ideal way to build up healthy competition and gives vendors an opportunity to achieve a sale within a given timeframe, at fair 
market value, and get the highest price a willing buyer will pay on the day. 
If there is a premium in the marketplace, the auction process gives the seller the opportunity to obtain it. 
In Ponsonby, one of Auckland's most prolific auction environments, if you are not selling by auction, buyers are less likely to take 
interest. 
More than half the homes for auction in this central Auckland suburb sell on auction day, with another 18 per cent selling beforehand. 
The buyers in this area are sophisticated, young, intelligent and active - they're the movers and shakers and they know exactly what 
they want. They also want to go along to auctions to see what other people are prepared to pay. It's exciting and it's competitive. 
Auctions require a set of specialist skills and sellers should always check the credentials of real estate salespeople before employing 
them. Experience, success in the industry, testimonials from satisfied clients - these are all important. And remember, all qualified 
salespeople must act according to the rules of their regulatory body. 
Clearly, salespeople will try their utmost to get the very best price they can - that's what makes a real estate salesperson successful. 
But there is no question that the real estate market in New Zealand has got tougher. 
Since the market peaked in 1996, there has been a tightening effect due to the economy and the dynamics of the marketplace have also 
changed. 
Today there is much greater choice - apartments, terraced housing, lifestyle blocks, and higher demand for inner-city living. This has 
had a major impact on house prices, particularly in Auckland. 
This has all made the job much more difficult. 
Often you have to take a price to a vendor which the market is prepared to pay, but which the seller is not prepared to accept. 
There can be a gap to close and patience plays a big part. 
But, whatever advice and support we offer, at the end of the day it is always the vendor's call. Ultimately, only they can decide 
whether to sell or not. 
* Ross Foreman is an experienced real estate auctioneer. 

Dialogue: More than one way to buy or sell home sweet home 
 
04.09.2000 - By GEORGE LANCASTER* 
Selling residential real estate is dealing with emotions and opinions. 
In seven years in the business I have dealt with a lot of people and sold a lot of property - on average I deal with 2000 
people a year. 
One thing that stands out is that people buy property first on emotion, then on value. If the emotional strings are not 
singing, one home's value compared to that of another can become irrelevant. 
Certain points in a home can close a deal or lose a buyer: a dog barks next door, a neighbour gives a funny look, a loud 
car zooms past the house too fast. It is all emotional. 
In most cases we are looking at the single biggest financial decision a person will make in their lives. I have seen people 
break into tears on missing out on a home they loved. Buyers cry out with joy on securing a home they love. 
The experience of buying and selling property is always going to pull on emotional strings. People can never be expected 
to act any other way when buying residential real estate. 
There is no one theory on the best way to sell a home, but equally you cannot be so narrow-minded as to say there are 
certain marketing methods that should never be used. For every success story there is a sad story. 
But to be influenced into making a decision on how best to offer your home for sale, based on a friend's success story, or 
another friend's gloomy story, or an article in a paper or a magazine is wrong. 
It's fine to take guidance and advice, but then look at everything and make your own decision. 
Recently a property was marketed by a husband and wife team in our Remuera office. I feel everyone - even the people 
that bought the home - expected it to sell for maybe $800,000 at the most. When the hammer fell and the property was 
pronounced sold the vendors had a sale for just over a million dollars. 
If they had listed this property at the highest price expectation they would probably still be extremely happy, because they 
would never have known its true value and this story would never have been told. 
One thing is for sure - it was emotions, not statistics or valuations, that sold that property. But on the funny side of things, 
imagine having dinner and a glass of wine with these people, and mentioning you were thinking of selling. 
As a real-estate salesman, I can only give advice. The biggest decisions made anyone contemplating selling a home is 
how to sell it, who should sell it and when it should be sold. 
Take your time. Don't rush yourself. Make sure you're comfortable with the firm you are dealing with and the way your 
property will be marketed. Most importantly, you must be comfortable with the individual agent who is representing your 
interests. 
You read terms recently in the paper: "Vendor crunching," "Kick him in the guts." This is how they do it in Australia, 
according to one man. Somehow I doubt it though. 
We use methods such as written feedback, the market's opinion. We are, remember, a conduit through which information 
is passed. Good or bad, it is our duty to pass all the information on to our vendors. This is called keeping our vendors 
informed. 
As we say in the real estate business, an informed vendor can make an informed decision. 
* George Lancaster is an Auckland real estate agent. 

Dialogue: Crime-busting best left to pros 
 
04.09.2000 - 
There is an interesting scene in the film Gladiator where two senators ponder who rules Rome - is it Caesar or is it the 
Senate? 
The answer of course is neither - it's the mob who are really in control, with pliable emotions that can be harnessed and 
manipulated to create an uncontrollable force. And when the mob becomes the angry mob their power is really exercised. 
Today we have seen uncontrollable mob mentality with soccer hooliganism, which threatens the law, and now we are 
seeing it with vigilante groups who truly believe that they act on behalf of the law. 
We first saw signs of citizens taking the law into their own hands in the early 90s in cities like New York where a group 
called Heaven's Angels emerged. 
This was a self-appointed, uniformed club of heavy-looking Samaritans who would roam the public transport system to 
protect the law-abiding against escalating violence and crime. 
And you can't help admiring them for doing it. It made sense, since modern-day police always seem to be encouraging the 
community to "own" the crime problem with neighbourhood watch and other such philosophies. 
But of course sometimes consumers need clarification on the difference between getting actively involved in crime 
prevention and having their own shot at exercising the long arm of the law. 
Sometimes the latter is best left to the so-called experts. 
Recently we have witnessed a British tabloid inciting the mob mentality by publishing the identities of convicted 
paedophiles; it led to all sorts of cases of mistaken identity and innocents victimised. And then there was last week's 
bizarre case of the village-idiot vigilantes in Wales who mistook a paediatrician's profession as that of being a paedophile. 
(Pedicurists are no doubt battening down the hatches.) 
Vigilante activism is also gaining popularity in our own city. We have seen vigilantes drive a paedophile and some 
prostitutes out of Mt Wellington. 
And earlier this year there was the feminist group roaming Albert Park as both a deterrent and a provocateur to the 
repeated sex offender who lurked. Why did they do this? Because they weren't convinced the system really had a handle 
on matters. 
Once upon a time, in an era where the local minister, scout master and family doctor were still the pillars of the community 
we were like docile sheep, trusting the system and leaving those in positions of authority to take charge. And it seemed to 
work. 
But something has gone horribly wrong. Street crime and offences of a truly gruesome nature now seem commonplace 
and widespread (or at least widely publicised) and consumers are questioning the institutions supposedly controlling the 
situation. People are wondering out loud whether we are tough enough on our criminals, particularly when they seem to 
continually reoffend. 
There is concern that "the system" is too politically correct, long-winded and full of red tape to really punish the wrong-
doers to the extent they deserve. Thus consumer vigilante activism not only allows the "average man on the street" to 
vent his frustrations but also feel satisfied that criminals do suffer as victims. 
Of course this "average man on the street" may not understand the full picture, appreciate the good strategies of the 
organisations supposedly keeping control of social problems or indeed hear of any of the "success stories" associated 
with crime control which may indeed satisfy their need for justice. Or maybe he doesn't want to know. 
Continually faced with extreme crimes against the innocent, the backlash reaction seems equally extreme, with calls for 
no-parole sentencing, castration, even death. 
Despite occasional bumbling errors of judgment, and some Ku Klux Klannish tactics, consumer vigilante groups will have 
increasing appeal. Somewhere deep in all of us there is an immense satisfaction when citizens take matters into their own 
hands. 
Maybe it's a genetic thing passed down from our ancestors - active vigilante tactics seem to hark back to era where 
peasants shouted, "Stone him! Stone him!" 
Whatever, our young country has lost its innocence. We are no longer the sleepy society that leaves its front doors open 
and allows the kids to walk to school by themselves. And this irks the good citizens who seek revenge. 

                 Stephanie O'Conner uses a "hands-free" mobile phone to diminish
                 the threat of harmful radiation. Herald Picture / David White

                 Mobile madness: just how safe is your
                 cellphone?

                 09.07.2000 - By SIMON COLLINS 

                 Whenever Ishwar Chandra picks up a mobile phone, he
                 feels unbearable pain in the ear and eyes. 

                 The Papatoetoe real estate agent had been using a
                 cellphone for 2 1/2 years when he started finding it
                 painful. 

                 "The ear started heating up and then afterwards I would
                 get pain in the ear and also the eye and half the head
                 would be heavy. As time went past, as soon as I put it
                 near the ear it would trigger it straight away and I
                 couldn't bear the pain. 

                 "I tried a hands-free set and it didn't work - it was the
                 same thing. th...thI don't use the cellphone now." 

                 Mr Chandra is a rare case. Most of the 1.4 million New
                 Zealanders who had cellphones as at March 31 this
                 year have never reported any ill-effects. 

                 But Dr Bruce Hocking, a former chief medical officer for
                 Telstra who studied 40 people with cellphone-related
                 symptoms in Australia and New Zealand, believes that
                 people like Mr Chandra may be "early warning signs." 

                 "We don't know what will happen within 20 years," says
                 Dr Hocking, now an independent Melbourne specialist in
                 occupational medicine. 

                 "Since we are in the early stages of the technology, if
                 we get it wrong - either from the point of view of the
                 phones or the towers - we are going to have quite a
                 mess to deal with in the years to come." 

                 Cellphone transmitter towers - there are 1200 to 1500
                 around the country so far - have been stirring up
                 opposition for years. In 1997, a school in Green Bay,
                 West Auckland, threatened to shut if Telecom built a
                 transmitter near its playground. 

                 Vodafone is taking two groups of residents in Howick
                 and Devonport to the Environment Court soon in a bid to
                 overturn local council decisions against proposed
                 transmitters. In Howick, the device would be on a
                 lamp-post right outside the house where Howard and
                 Diane Tisdall live with their two children. 

                 But the radiation from cellphones themselves is
                 between 1000 and a million times stronger, at the point
                 where it is absorbed by the brain, than that from
                 transmitters. 

                 Yet here, as elsewhere, people are flocking to the
                 cellphone shops. 

                 In the year to March, the proportion of the population
                 with cellphones almost doubled from 21 per cent to 37
                 per cent. 

                 By far the biggest growth was in prepaid phones for
                 private use, particularly by teenagers. Prepaids now
                 make up 49 per cent of Telecom's cellphones and
                 probably a much higher proportion of Vodafone's. 

                 Although cellphones are already more popular here than
                 in the United States (31 per cent), we are behind
                 Australia (40 per cent) and well behind the world leader,
                 Finland (66 per cent). 

                 There, the ratio of cellphones to teenagers is now over
                 100 per cent. In other words, many young Finns have
                 more than one mobile. 

                 "Mobiles are used now as an accessory, so you have a
                 different phone for different occasions," says Keri
                 Nielson, local marketing manager for the Finnish
                 cellphone company Nokia. 

                 "With personalisation, you can download different ring
                 tones and get different-coloured covers. People can
                 express their personalities." 

                 And this is just the start. On Monday, unless blocked
                 by court action, the Government will start auctioning
                 four more blocks of radio frequencies which are
                 expected to be used partly for new networks of
                 "third-generation" cellphones, going beyond the first
                 (analogue) and second (digital) technologies. 

                 In this next round, cellphones will be able to download
                 data, graphics and even videos from the internet much
                 more effectively. They will come in a range of shapes
                 and sizes, often looking more like a small mobile
                 computer than a cellphone as we now know it. 

                 "You'll get the opportunity to walk down Queen St and
                 watch the 6 pm news on the way," says Ernie Newman
                 of the Telecommunications Users Association. 

                 "You might be in another city, press the key and it will
                 come up with a street map and mark with a cross the
                 position where you are. 

                 "Press for a movie and it will tell you what movies are
                 being shown and mark on the map where they are, and
                 if you want to buy a ticket it will do that." 

                 Many experts scoff at those who wonder about the
                 health effects of such an obviously beneficial
                 technology. 

                 "The thing that interests me is why the anxiety won't go
                 away. It's a fascinating social phenomenon," says Des
                 Gorman, professor of occupational medicine at the
                 Auckland Medical School. 

                 "The science of non-ionising radiation has been known
                 for so long it's one of the best-known areas of science.
                 Radio is not exactly a new invention. Every day makes
                 it less and less likely that we're going to see any
                 ill-effects from it." 

                 But there are signs that official views are changing. Last
                 week the World Health Organisation recommended that
                 cellphone users limit their own and their children's
                 exposure to radiation by making shorter phone calls or
                 using hands-free phones, which keep the transmitting
                 antenna away from the head. 

                 This followed a May report by an expert group
                 established by the British Government. It recommended
                 that the use of mobile phones by children for
                 "non-essential calls" should be discouraged, and that
                 the industry "should refrain from promoting the use of
                 mobile phones by children." 

                 The NZ Health Research Council has granted $420,000
                 to the Wellington Medical School to interview around
                 200 to 300 people who get brain tumours in the next
                 three years about a number of issues, including how
                 much they have used cellphones. 

                 This will be part of a multimillion-dollar study of about
                 6000 brain tumour patients in 13 countries to test
                 whether cellphone users are more susceptible to
                 tumours. 

                 "Obviously we think there is a possibility that there is an
                 association, otherwise we wouldn't be doing the study,"
                 says Professor Alistair Woodward. 

                 "I don't think there is any strong evidence at the
                 moment that cellphones are causing cancer. One thing
                 that is reassuring us is that we haven't seen a marked
                 increase in the frequency of brain tumours in the past
                 few years." 

                 Until now, the official view has been that radiation in the
                 low-frequency, non-ionising radiation bands which
                 include cellphone transmissions is too weak to affect
                 the body's molecular structure, unless it is so intense -
                 as in a microwave oven - that it literally cooks the body
                 with heat. It is generally accepted that the heating, or
                 thermal, effect of a cellphone is far less than that
                 needed to "cook" anyone's brain. 

                 However, some studies suggest that cellphones may
                 also have non-thermal effects. 

                 Dr Hocking's sample of 40 cellphone users reported
                 headaches, dizziness, fatigue, reduced concentration
                 and memory loss. In continuing work with one of those
                 people, he found evidence of a neurological change
                 which he believes was caused by using a cellphone - a
                 result he will report this month in the British journal
                 Occupational Medicine. 

                 A Scandinavian survey of 11,000 cellphone users,
                 published in 1998, found that 13 per cent of mobile
                 phone users in Sweden, and 30 per cent in Norway,
                 reported at least one symptom which they associated
                 with cellphone use. Symptoms increased with more
                 calls. 

                 Christchurch meteorologist Dr Neil Cherry, who returns
                 on Monday after addressing a European Parliament
                 seminar on cellphones, says his colleagues have known
                 for years that radiation, even at lower frequencies than
                 cellphones use, affects daily sleep patterns and
                 reaction times. 

                 In a 1996 Swiss study, people who slept with their
                 cellphones on charge next to their beds got to sleep
                 faster, but their rapid eye movement sleep was shorter,
                 so they woke tired and confused. 

                 A recent World Health Organisation review of other
                 studies found that radiation in the general radio
                 frequency range, which includes cellphones, can affect
                 the movement of key substances such as calcium
                 between cells in the brain. 

                 Dr Cherry says this may reduce the body's production
                 of melatonin, a hormone produced at night which is vital
                 for healthy sleep. He says melatonin also helps the
                 body to fight "free radicals" - electrically charged
                 molecules which are believed to play a role in causing
                 brain disorders such as Alzheimer's and Parkinson's
                 disease. 

                 "Melatonin reduces as we get older and that's why we
                 get more cancers, arthritis and sickness. The studies
                 show that cellphones do the same thing, so it's going to
                 accelerate ageing. That's why young people in particular
                 shouldn't use them." 

                 A 1997 study in Adelaide found that 18 months of
                 exposure to cellphone-type radiation increased the
                 incidence of tumours in mice which had been specially
                 bred to be susceptible to tumours. Tumours showed up
                 in 43 per cent of those exposed to radiation, compared
                 with 22 per cent of those not exposed. 

                 A Swedish study of 209 people with brain tumours,
                 published this year, found that cellphone users were 2.5
                 times more likely than non-users to get tumours next to
                 their "phone ear." But they were no more likely to get
                 brain tumours in general. 

                 The British report was cautious about all these studies,
                 noting that others found contradictory results. 

                 "The effects that are reported are typically small and
                 close to the level of statistical noise," it said. 

                 It found "compelling evidence" that talking on a mobile
                 phone while driving led to more accidents. It said this
                 could be explained simply by the cellphone distracting
                 drivers. 

                 On other effects, it concluded: "There is also good
                 evidence that exposure to mobile phone signalsth ...
                 has direct, short-term effects on the electrical activity of
                 the human brain and on cognitive [learning] functionth ...

                 "There is an urgent need to establish whether these
                 direct effects on the brain have consequences for
                 health." 

                 It found that the evidence so far did not show that
                 cellphone radiation caused cancer. 

                 "However, mobile phones have not been in use for long
                 enough to allow comprehensive epidemiological
                 assessment of their impact on health, and we cannot,
                 at this stage, exclude the possibility of some
                 association between mobile phone technology and
                 cancer." 

                 It recommended that Britain adopt a set of
                 internationally recognised guidelines for radiation
                 exposure limits - the same guidelines New Zealand
                 adopted last year. 

                 As well as saying that children should be discouraged
                 from using cellphones, it said the British Government
                 should send a leaflet to every household about their
                 possible health effects and set up a national database
                 of all cell transmitter sites. 

                 Physical barriers should be put around the sites to mark
                 zones where exposure guidelines might be exceeded. 

                 In New Zealand, the Green Party has taken up the
                 issue. It organised a presentation to MPs by Dr Cherry
                 before he left for Europe, and health spokeswoman Sue
                 Kedgley says we should require health warnings on
                 cellphones similar to those on cigarettes. 

                 She says no one advocates "throwing them into the
                 sea," but we should minimise our use of them. 

                 "Kids are increasingly being given them - parents think
                 it makes them safe because they know where they are
                 when they're out on the town." 

                 Sue Kedgley herself still has a cellphone but says, "I
                 only use it if I'm travelling." 

                 Dr Cherry says: "I won't use a cellphone. I think people
                 should know they are dangerous things." 

                 The scientific director of the National Radiation
                 Laboratory, Dr Andrew McEwan, believes that any
                 further regulation of cellphone use would be "a bit over
                 the top." 

                 "I think it's up to individuals." 

                 Children's use of cellphones "is really a parental thing." 

                 Dr McEwan says there is "no biophysical reason"
                 radiation at the frequencies used by cellphones should
                 have any effect, unless it is strong enough to cause
                 heating. 

                 He likens public concern to earlier scares about
                 powerlines, computers and microwaves. The Ministries
                 of Health and the Environment are preparing a cabinet
                 paper on guidelines for local councils handling
                 applications for cell transmitters. 

                 A discussion document last year proposed maintaining
                 the present international standard but requiring an
                 additional assessment if radiation exposure is above 25
                 per cent of the maximum allowed. 

                 The Ministry of Commerce official who chaired the
                 committee that drew up New Zealand's radiation
                 standard, Ian Hutchings, says the standard is unlikely
                 to change until results are in from the 13-country brain
                 tumour study in about three years. 

                 Until then, the rest of us will just have to decide for
                 ourselves. 

                 How to reduce the risks

                 Dr Ivan Beale, a former member of the Radiofrequency
                 Fields Standards Committee, offers eight tips to
                 minimise any potential risks from cellphone radiation: 

                 1. Use a fixed or cordless phone in preference to a
                 cellphone unless this is very inconvenient. (Radiation
                 from a cellphone is about 100 times stronger than from
                 a cordless phone, which only needs to reach a base
                 within the house.) 

                 2. Use a remote hands-free or loudspeaker cellphone,
                 rather than holding the phone against your ear. (Dr
                 Beale says it is "generally agreed in the scientific
                 community" that a recent British report saying
                 hands-free cellphones actually increase exposure to
                 radiation was incorrect.) 

                 3. When using a cellphone, minimise the time spent
                 talking. (The radiation is greatest when you are
                 transmitting.) 

                 4. Avoid using a cellphone in a vehicle, even if
                 stationary. (The metal walls of a car shield the phone
                 from the nearest cell site, causing it to increase its
                 energy output.) 

                 5. When convenient, use a cellphone in an open area
                 rather than an enclosed one. (Radiation will be least
                 when you are in direct line of sight to a cell site.) 

                 6. Minimise cellphone use when driving, even if it is a
                 hands-free phone. (Using the phone distracts your mind
                 from the road.) 

                 7. If the cellphone has an extendable antenna, extend it
                 before talking. (Keep the antenna as far away from your
                 head as possible.) 

                 8. Avoid using a cellphone near high-voltage power
                 lines. (The power frequency field interferes with
                 transmission from the cellphone, causing the phone to
                 increase its strength to get a clear signal to the cell
                 site.)


Politics invasive cancer in health

                 08.07.2000 - By JOHN ROUGHAN 

                 Years ago, just after the report of the Cartwright inquiry,
                 a feminist of impeccable credentials muttered privately
                 that cervical cancer was not the greatest scourge
                 known to woman. 

                 I was taken aback, having just written a contribution to
                 the chorus of support for Dame (to be) Sylvia
                 Cartwright's indictment of the undertreatment of cervical
                 abnormalities at National Women's Hospital. And it was
                 appalling, insofar as it was symptomatic of the
                 patronising attitude that left patients in ignorance in
                 those days. 

                 But the Cartwright report had been faintly disturbing for
                 another reason. I remember scouring the pages for a
                 figure of fatalities attributable to the treatment and,
                 finding none, suppressed a twinge of suspicion that
                 something not entirely sound was afoot. 

                 At the time, the latter 1980s, the cost of new drugs,
                 diagnostics and wonderful advances such as
                 microsurgery were just beginning to burst public health
                 budgets. Governments everywhere were discovering that
                 the more money they put in, the more health
                 professionals raised the level of service. Public demand,
                 as it always is for a free good, was practically infinite. 

                 Rationing is an invidious political task. Health funding
                 authorities were faced with comparing the benefits of all
                 services to ensure the funds were used where they were
                 most needed and effective. Pharmac was set up and
                 has done a splendid job objectively allocating drug
                 subsidies. But in other health services rationing was,
                 and remains, haphazard. Money still goes where
                 professionals and patient advocacy groups make the
                 most noise. 

                 Scarcely any professionals would cite cervical cancer
                 as a major health problem. In the latest year for which
                 the Cancer Society has figures, it accounted for just 96
                 deaths. Lung cancer, at the top of the list, killed 1406
                 people that year. 

                 Bowel cancer is the next most common, followed by
                 breast, prostate, pancreas, stomach, lymph system,
                 oesophagus ... You go way, way down the list to find
                 cervical cancer. Yet of all those organs, New Zealand
                 has a population screening service for just two - breast
                 and cervix. 

                 The reason, I'm told, is that apart from skin, those are
                 the only cancer-prone organs that are reasonably
                 accessible in their entirety. Men will not know this, but
                 a cervical smear means the whole thing. It can't be
                 pleasant. 

                 And there is not much evidence that screening is
                 making a difference. There were 85 deaths from cervical
                 cancer in 1989, the year before the programme began,
                 Five years later there were 96. 

                 The Cartwright inquiry, though, made a great deal of
                 noise. Once it had crucified the National Women's
                 oncologist, Professor Herbert Green, it looked for a
                 mission more constructive and settled upon a National
                 Cervical Screening Programme. Politically, there was no
                 resisting it, although health officials plainly knew that it
                 would be a lemon. 

                 A little of the lemon has been exposed now by women
                 whose tests were read in Dr Michael Bottrill's laboratory
                 at Gisborne. The ministerial inquiry into their complaints
                 has produced one telling piece of evidence. 

                 Away back in April, in the first week of the inquiry, the
                 Ministry of Health's chief medical adviser, Dr Bob Boyd,
                 conceded to a panel member, Professor Maire Duggan,
                 that the incidence of cervical cancer had been
                 exaggerated at the start of the screening programme. 

                 The reason, he believed, was to win the backing of
                 politicians. He also conceded that words such as
                 "eliminate" and "prevent" should not have been used in
                 promotional material. "You shouldn't offer the population
                 the belief that the programme will eliminate cancer," he
                 said. 

                 Yet that is precisely what most of those at the Gisborne
                 inquiry continue to believe. 

                 When it reconvened on Monday after a six-week hiatus,
                 a witness with a guitar and a yellow flower pinned to her
                 lapel sang a song for a woman who had died since
                 giving evidence in May. Then Stuart Grieve, QC, a
                 criminal prosecutor in Auckland for many years,
                 accused pathologists of "closing ranks" because they
                 had seen no reason to review Dr Bottrill's work. 

                 It can easily be forgotten that the panel has yet to say
                 the well-publicised underreporting of abnormalities by
                 the Bottrill laboratory was, in fact, unusual. The
                 evidence continues to be equivocal. The woman
                 mourned at the inquiry on Monday, for example, had
                 received a clear test result from the Gisborne Hospital
                 pathologist too. 

                 Still, you can see where the inquiry is going.
                 Regardless of whether Gisborne was an isolated
                 problem, we are likely to get specialised laboratories
                 and training courses and an elaborate array of
                 monitoring committees. But at what price? We are not
                 talking dollars alone. 

                 A fair amount of emotional blackmail is brought to bear
                 in the contest for public health funds. Every life is
                 important but yellow flower people forget that the lives
                 they know and love are not the only ones to be
                 considered. For every life saved by a foolproof screening
                 programme, if such a thing is possible, two or three
                 could be lost for a lack of funds elsewhere. 

                 Right now women in this country are urged to get a
                 check for cervical cancer every three years. It produces
                 slides that can be hard to read. When in doubt, a
                 pathologist is likely to err on the bright side. Wouldn't
                 you? 

                 That is the trouble with population screening. Unless it
                 is highly reliable it can do untold harm. Is it really worth
                 it?

Don't worry, be happy (you
                 might live in Fiji)

                 08.07.2000 - By GORDON McLAUCHLAN 

                 I'm travelling into Wellington from the airport on a raw
                 morning recently when I notice the Kiwi Indian driver has
                 a hand-written note taped to the dashboard in front of
                 the steering-wheel. It reads: "I feel great." 

                 I start to feel pretty good myself after a week of national
                 "Woe are we." 

                 I ask him if he always feels great, or does he seldom
                 feel great and is using the note to change his attitude.
                 He grins broadly and says: "I feel great most of the time
                 and this is to remind me." 

                 Well, he reminded me that in this small, intimate
                 society a run of scandals, disasters and political
                 squabbles is suffocating. 

                 Right now our citizens are drawing deep breaths in
                 shock, and banging their foreheads with the backs of
                 their hands, at the lack of business confidence,
                 allegations against Mark Todd, the reckless past life of
                 Dover Samuels, the mud-slinging of Richard Prebble
                 and Winston Peters and the pathetic puerility of Grant
                 Gillon. 

                 And this turmoil is being played out against the lunacy
                 of Fiji just over the horizon and the long-running,
                 hand-wringing, tear-washed Gisborne cervical cancer
                 opera. 

                 A kind of medical recklessness happened in Gisborne
                 that tragically shortened the lives of women and may
                 have been more widespread than was at first thought. 

                 This won't win me a popularity contest, but I believe a
                 small, smart, businesslike group of investigators,
                 uncloyed from sentiment, would more likely get to the
                 bottom of the problem, measure its malign extent and
                 mend it than a public sob-saga which seems to
                 obfuscate more than it enlightens. 

                 On Tuesday night's television news I heard an expert
                 witness from the Health Funding Authority asked
                 whether some smears might even have missed being
                 read at all. 

                 She replied: "Theoretically, that might be just about
                 possible." 

                 In the privacy of my own home, I leapt from my chair
                 shouting: "What the hell does that mean?" 

                 So maybe the time has come to lighten up a bit. As far
                 as politicians are concerned, let them wallow in their
                 own chagrin. 

                 Quite a few years ago I was keynote speaker at the
                 annual conference of the Institute of Management in
                 Dunedin, my old home town. 

                 The country was in the grip of Muldoon mayhem at the
                 time, with many people allegedly fleeing to Australia (I
                 can't remember when they weren't, by the way).
                 Scandals and rumours of scandals were whispered
                 along corridors, in buses, and probably in beds by the
                 sources of them. 

                 Sporting defeats were actually being blamed on the
                 national depression. 

                 At the end of my speech I said they should all take time
                 out from the national gloom. Go to dinner and get a bit
                 shickered (southern dialect), I suggested, laugh, do a
                 tap dance, read a book to your kids or your
                 grandchildren or take them to the movies - anything to
                 get the thumbs of puritan angst off your throats. 

                 They looked at me as though I'd done a down-trou and
                 afterwards an elderly woman told me off at length for
                 urging people to abrogate their responsibilities. "If we
                 don't worry about what's happening in our country, who
                 will?" 

                 I wanted to say, "Woody Woodpecker, you boring old
                 bag" but, though she was a small woman, a Calvinist
                 ferocity shone from the eyes above her smile, redolent
                 of the tribe of great aunts that haunted my childhood; so
                 I agreed with her that we should worry more, lots more,
                 coward that I am. 

                 On the subject of scandal, have you ever noticed that
                 people berating others for succumbing to some human
                 frailty often won't say what the offending act was, as
                 though to say it is to be infected by it? 

                 The more prudish they are, the more immoral acts there
                 are, and the less they can discriminate. 

                 So what happens is they find a tepidly pejorative word to
                 cover all moral acts of turpitude. 

                 This decade the word is "inappropriate." Someone has
                 already referred to Mark Todd's alleged cocaine-snorting
                 as "inappropriate," leaving me to wonder whether the
                 actions themselves are okay but should be done only
                 during a month with an "r" in it, or not while the wife's
                 out of town, or before the northern summer solstice. 

                 Next thing, genocide will be inappropriate, giving the
                 impression that it may depend on which race you wipe
                 out. 

                 So could we call a moratorium on that word? And, while
                 we're on the subject, what about abandoning "celebrate"
                 (as in "our diversity") and "passionate" (as about our
                 work). 

                 But, above all, let's take it easy. There are good things
                 happening out there. A man famous for mangling the
                 language, Murray Mexted, used the word "egregious" in
                 a rugby commentary the other week. This is a huge
                 breakthrough for high culture, the most exciting use of
                 an expressive word since David Lange let fly with
                 "solipsism." 

                 Mexted's colleague sneered and patronisingly asked
                 him what the word meant. 

                 "Outstandingly bad," he replied quick as a stab kick,
                 proving conclusively that he's swotting a dictionary,
                 almost certainly the Collins Millennium Edition, which,
                 alone among mine, gives exactly that definition. 

                 Goodonya, Murray, you beaut.
                 Calder at large: John Morris - still the last
                 line of defence

                 08.07.2000 - By PETER CALDER 

                 John Morris first made his name standing in a soccer
                 goal. When he took the field in the 1970s for
                 Blockhouse Bay, for Auckland and, later, in 14
                 internationals for the All Whites, he was the last hope,
                 the man all eyes turned to when the defence and cover
                 defence had failed. 

                 He was not always unbeatable. The headline on an
                 ancient, yellowing report of Auckland falling 0-7 to
                 Dundee screamed "Morris Muffs It!" - the raw injustice of
                 which only goalkeepers and their wincing parents can
                 completely understand. 

                 For the goalie, there is no ambiguity. The edges of the
                 goalmouth's yawning rectangle mark the line between
                 success and failure. 

                 As the netting limply sways and the scorer is buried by
                 jubilant teammates, the goalkeeper stands alone and
                 bereft, his failure visible and demonstrable. 

                 John Morris still moves in a world devoid of ambiguity or
                 equivocation. And, at least in the eyes of his
                 supporters, he's been pedagogy's equivalent of the
                 goalkeeper this week, dashing back and forth, punching
                 away the curving cross-kicks from the educational
                 reformers who seek to breach his defences. 

                 The headmaster of Auckland Grammar School been an
                 outspoken critic of the proposed National Certificate in
                 Educational Achievement (NCEA), which is to replace
                 School Certificate and Bursary in 2002. 

                 Mr Morris, who also chairs the Education Forum - the
                 educational equivalent of the Business Roundtable -
                 says it will result in the dumbing down of academic
                 standards and create a system that "eradicates
                 challenge and demotivates effort." 

                 He has gone one further, revealing that Grammar has
                 signed an agreement with Cambridge University in
                 England to offer its A-level entry qualification to students
                 who wish to sit for it. He has written to 35 other schools
                 about the plan - 24 have expressed interest. 

                 Surprisingly, perhaps, his idea came under fire this
                 week from three women one might have expected to be
                 among his stauncher allies. The principals of three elite
                 girls' schools, Epsom Girls Grammar, St Cuthberts
                 College and Diocesan School for Girls, jointly backed
                 the new national assessment in a piece on the Herald's
                 Dialogue page. 

                 "We are behind in the major task of developing in our
                 young people an extensive, flexible range of knowledge
                 and skills," they wrote, adding that standards-based
                 assessments "result in more focused and effective
                 teaching and learning [and] improved levels of
                 achievement, even as measured by today's exams." 

                 The woodwork in the reception area at Auckland
                 Grammar has been replaced in recent years and is
                 blond, new and shiny. But (some things never change)
                 the brass plate on John Morris' office door is still
                 engraved with the word "Headmaster." The more
                 modern, gender-neutral "principal" has no place here,
                 and as Mr Morris pours coffee and seats himself next to
                 a roaring imitation-log gas fire, he apologises for the
                 crisp air temperature. 

                 The fire is more decorative than functional, he explains,
                 and the sun scarcely ever peeps under the eaves of the
                 roughcast stone mission-style building which has been
                 Grammar's home for almost 90 years. 

                 But the headmaster's machine-gun style of speech (he
                 talks like a man who wants to fit two hours' work into
                 one, and a phrase like "Secondary School Principals'
                 Association" emerges sounding like six syllables rather
                 than a dozen) ensures that the conversation maintains a
                 feverish pace. 

                 If he is galled that the principals of what might be seen
                 as Grammar's sister schools have broken ranks, he
                 shows no sign of it. He remarks, without naming
                 names, that two of the three have asked to be kept
                 informed of how the Cambridge proposal develops, and
                 says their opposition has "at least brought this matter
                 into public debate." 

                 "It's never been debated. They say there will be
                 moderation [in the NCEA] but what it is is quality
                 checks; it doesn't look at outputs, it looks at the tests
                 you set, and if they are valid they assume the result will
                 be valid. That's a hell of a jump. You've got no
                 guarantee." 

                 Mr Morris says the deal with Cambridge will ensure that
                 his school - and others of like mind - can continue to
                 offer forms of assessment in tune with their philosophy. 

                 "We believe in externality, national standards,
                 accountability, consistency. It works for us. I've never
                 said it should work for everyone, but the whole tenet of
                 Tomorrow's Schools was diversity and choice, and now
                 we have a Labour Government trying to take us back to
                 a 'one-size-fits-all' mentality." 

                 Critics of Grammar's announcement have ridiculed the
                 notion of New Zealand kids sitting English A-level
                 exams designed for blazered, upper-class twits in
                 boaters. But, Mr Morris explains, the exam concerned
                 is the International A-level, which is administered
                 throughout the world. 

                 It will cost students $45 to $60 a paper and will, he
                 says, be an improvement on the alternatives: the New
                 Zealand Education and Scholarship Trust, a privately
                 funded exam set up when the University Scholarship
                 exam was abolished, and the International
                 Baccalaureate, which imposes compliance costs of up
                 to $100,000 a year on schools and entry fees of up to
                 $1000 for each child. 

                 He admits that the "Englishness" of the Cambridge
                 exam will pose some problems, but says there is
                 "potential" for teaching local content; local courses,
                 validated in Cambridge, would be marked here and sent
                 across the world for validation. 

                 He takes issue with criticism that it sounds a lot like
                 the internal assessment model being used on an
                 international scale, because in moderated internal
                 assessment "you don't look at the outputs - there's
                 nobody marking kids' work." 

                 Mr Morris makes much of wanting simply to exercise
                 Grammar's right to choose rigorous external
                 examination. He reviles the NCEA's scale of
                 assessment, which classifies pupils as having achieved
                 credit, merit or excellence in a given subject. 

                 "If they use the same scale as they do now for Bursary,
                 42 per cent of all the grades we get here will be
                 excellent - which means over 70 per cent. Where's the
                 challenge in that for the real top academics, the few
                 who want to get 96 or 98 per cent? They can cruise
                 quietly through and get their 70 per cent, and that's
                 excellent! 

                 "We are just thinking of our kids here and what we can
                 offer them: academic rigour and excellence and an
                 indication in very plain and simple terms of how they are
                 performing. If I can't do that, I'm not doing my job." 

                 Yet he cannot escape the suggestion that he is
                 speaking for the educational right, nor the suspicion that
                 a more broadly based assessment of educational
                 achievement might erode the traditional superiority of
                 schools like Grammar. 

                 He denies fearing that the Grammar "brand" is under
                 threat. 

                 "We would still be up there. But I oppose the NCEA,
                 yes, because I think it's flawed, based on kids reaching
                 supposedly transparent standards." 

                 Success in life, I suggest to him, is based on mastery,
                 not marks. You don't get 44 per cent in a driving test -
                 you pass or fail. 

                 "You can pass something but can you pass it to your
                 best potential? It's all very well to cruise through life. In
                 fact, that's probably what's wrong with New Zealanders
                 in large measure; they just cruise through life. But if we
                 want to compete on a world stage, we need to give the
                 opportunity to those who want to go beyond that."


                 The sea rules, says veteran skipper Ginger Gibbs, and you're in
                 someone else's territory. Herald Picture / Glenn Jeffery

                 Commercial fishermen - life on the cruel
                 sea

                 08.07.2000 - By TIM WATKIN 

                 Vast, unforgiving seas are their prairies and they ride
                 waves like cowboys ride wild horses. In a world beyond
                 the horizon of most New Zealanders, commercial
                 fishermen risk their lives to net the country export
                 revenues worth $1.34 billion last year. 

                 They steam out of Lyttelton and Nelson, Tauranga and
                 Auckland for weeks in untamed territories in much the
                 same way as those cowboys in America's wild west. 

                 The release of The Perfect Storm in cinemas this week
                 is a reminder of just how wild a fisherman's life is - both
                 on and off the water - and just how important the sea
                 and its bounty remain for us on this cluster of islands in
                 the world's fourth largest exclusive economic zone,
                 covering 1.2 million square nautical miles. 

                 "It's the last frontier," says Bill Moore, a year-old who
                 has been fishing since he was 12. "It can be really
                 unforgiving or really nice. Either way, it can kill you as
                 quick as look at you. 

                 "If one percent of society are outlaws, then fishermen
                 would be the one percent of the one percenters.
                 Fishermen are outside society 99 percent of the time
                 because they're at sea." 

                 New Zealand's deep-sea fishermen are hunting out the
                 places where krill and squid have been dragged by the
                 southern currents. Places unknown to the land-bound -
                 Chatham Rise, Louisville Ridge, Colville See Mount.
                 Trips can last between one and eight weeks. Out of
                 season, 100 tonne of fish can be hauled in on a good
                 trip. In season, 100 tonne can be caught in one five
                 minute shot. 

                 A bad trip - for whatever reason - leaves everyone out of
                 pocket. Fishermen are all share-fishing, taking their cut
                 after expenses. "No fish, no pay" is their lot. 

                 It's made New Zealand fishermen a canny lot, with a
                 reputation as masters of fishing in "rough country" - the
                 sea mountains where Orange Roughy and Oreo Dory
                 gather and where foreign skippers refuse to go. 

                 "Nobody knows how dangerous it is, really," says
                 Ginger Gibbs, who was born on a boat between the
                 M.... lighthouse and Auckland and is one of four fishing
                 brothers. 

                 "The ones who survive are the ones who realise it's
                 dangerous. The guys who don't understand that lose
                 fingers and arms." 

                 "We lose people every year," says Peter Jones,
                 president of the federation of commercial fishermen,
                 whose members trawl our fourth largest export earner.
                 "It's a fact of life." 

                 The sea, the gear, and the life are not abstract threats.
                 Danger is always close and awaiting a slip. If they're
                 trawling, the nets can be a hundred metres long, held
                 open by two tonne trawl doors and released by gigantic
                 winches. If long-lining, 2000 hooks might be in use. 

                 'Bugsy' Ryan, a mere 10 year-old when he spent his
                 first working day at sea, says accidents happen in a
                 split second. He remembers how one deckhand, known
                 as Lucky, lost his arm regathering the trawl doors. 

                 "You may do it 10-15 times a day, a thousand times a
                 year. One day you go to clip it on, all of a sudden a
                 wave comes over, the boat rolls; wham, bam, gone. Just
                 like that. 

                 "If you're putting the net out and your foot gets caught
                 you can go half way round the winch before anybody
                 notices." 

                 Maritime Safety Authority figures mark it down in black
                 and white. New Zealand has an estimated 6300
                 commerical vessels and for every 2000, there is, on
                 average, a fatality every three months. In the 1998-99
                 year eight fishermen were lost at sea and 75 accidents
                 reported. Many accidents go unreported. 

                 ACC recognises the seriousness of fishing injuries by
                 charging marine fishing operators a premium of $4.69
                 per $100 - one of their highest. 

                 While most injuries occur because of breakages or
                 human error, around a quarter are labelled
                 "environmental". 

                 As Gibbs points out: "The sea rules. You've got to
                 realise you're in somebody else's territory." 

                 In that realm, a storm can be the sea's executioner. A
                 hired gun. There's only so much a crew can do when
                 one hits - lash every thing down, check safety
                 procedures and get below. The skipper has to consider
                 a hundred variables: weather forecasts, the weight of
                 fish in the hold, that fighting a storm uses more petrol
                 and that makes the boat lighter, that every square foot
                 of water crashing onto the deck equals almost a tonne
                 of downward weight... 

                 The instinct to run for shore is not to be trusted. The
                 worst place to be caught in a storm is the continental
                 shelf encircling New Zealand, where deep water meets
                 shallow. 

                 "Captain Cook always said 'go to sea', don't come in to
                 land," says Gibbs. "It's safer out there. You have to
                 know you're going to hit port safely or you ride it out." 

                 Every fisherman remembers his worst storm. Gibbs'
                 was in the southern ocean south-west of New Zealand
                 in the mid-1980 when he was hove to for 22 days in a
                 "29 metre skinny ex-North Sea trawler". 

                 "They were 30-40 metre seas, 80-90 knots of wind and
                 breaking swells, which are the ones you've got to watch.
                 I lost my liferafts, all the gear, everything on deck." 

                 What's it like in such conditions? 

                 "It's like a jug of boiling water. Everything is white." 

                 One skipper with 25 years experience, who wanted to
                 be known only as John, replies: 

                 "What's it like being in a 44 gallon drum coming down
                 the slopes of Mt Eden, mate? That's about the
                 equivalent. You can't compress water, you can only
                 displace water. So it's got to go somewhere and it's
                 usually straight up and down. 

                 "The worst part of being in heavy weather is when you're
                 up on top of a big wave so that the bow's out of the
                 water and the stern's out of the water and you're only
                 being supported in the middle. Then that turns to foam
                 and drops out from under you. You can drop a ship like
                 an areoplane hitting an air-pocket. That's scary mate." 

                 When the boat goes down the back side of a wave,
                 somtimes the bow doesn't lift up before the next wave
                 crashes over it. It charges through, with white water up
                 over the wheelhouse. Most boats and fishermen can
                 handle that. But if it's blue water, be afraid - the boat's
                 just become a submarine. 

                 "It could last 20 seconds or 4 or 5 seconds, but when it
                 happens you think you're dead," says Moore, who has
                 survived a blue water experience. 

                 "The weight of the water on the boat was such that it's
                 got you under the water and the bouyancy of the boat is
                 trying to break through to the surface. Hopefully before
                 the next wave gets you." 

                 In The Perfect Storm, so called because the conditions
                 could not possibly have been worse, it was the
                 convergence of three fronts that generated winds of over
                 130 kph and waves peaking at 30 metres. 

                 "I'd say anybody who has fished in the southern ocean
                 has experienced The Perfect Storm a dozen times
                 over," says Gibbs, who has fished all over the world.
                 Other fishermen agree; the southern ocean has bigger
                 seas and wilder wind, untrammelled by land. 

                 But Erik Bernstrum, a lead forecaster at Metservice,
                 says the same conditions are more dangerous in the
                 north Atlantic than in the southern ocean. The main
                 differences are the Gulf Stream, which brings warm
                 ocean currents dangerously close to cold water, and the
                 banks close to the water surface, which create
                 "dramatically worse" wave conditions. 

                 "The southern ocean can be very bad very frequently,
                 whereas in this area east of the United States the
                 extreme conditions are less frequesnt, but at their
                 meanest, they're actually worse." 

                 Hauling fishing gear in these conditions is rough work. It
                 has always attracted rough men, who are drawn by the
                 elemental existence the sea offers. 

                 Ryan is typical of most fishermen. "You go to sea to
                 start with because it's a job and then you just get
                 hooked. I try to work on land now and I can't. Your eight
                 to five, your rush hours. when you're at sea, you may be
                 working 24 hours, but you're free." 

                 For all the raw romanticism, they go too for the most
                 practical of reasons - even the most unskilled positions
                 on a boat can pay well. A 16 year-old straight out of
                 school can earn $40,000 processing fish on board a
                 factory boat for 300 days in the year. By the time he's
                 19, he could be hauling in $70,000. It's a life spent in
                 the hold of a ship working eight hours on, eight hours off
                 continuously for six to eight weeks. For obvious safety
                 reasons, boats are almost universally alcohol and
                 drug-free. As Moore says, "it's like going to prison and
                 being paid for it". 

                 "That's hard work, so when they come home they play
                 the same way," says John. 

                 A year's worth of partying is packed into a few crazy
                 weeks. The most Ryan's blown in just two days on land
                 is $6000. Bars, prostitutes, taxis, restaurants, the
                 casino are the main recipients of this binging. 

                 "Lock yourself in your room for a few weeks, then come
                 out for a few days and catch up on life," he says. "Then
                 go back and lock yourself in your room. And every time
                 you come out, put a thousand bucks in your pocket." 

                 The old fishermen's bars had arrangements with the
                 banks so they could cash pay cheques over the
                 counter. 

                 "You have your most wild adventures on land, not when
                 you're at sea," says Gibbs. 

                 At least, you used to. 

                 "Everything's been tamed," he sighs. "The outlaws have
                 gone. She's all over. Those days have gone." 

                 Just as in the old west, the wagons are rolling in and
                 the ranchers are putting up fences. Since the quota
                 system was introduced in 1986, the companies have
                 come to dominate, while the small indepdent fishermen
                 have become their contractors. The industry is better
                 regulated, poaching has diminished, the companies pay
                 their taxes and, most importantly, fish stocks are
                 showing signs of rejuvenation. 

                 The fishermen accept the changes just as they accept
                 the dangers. But over their beers they'll reminisce about
                 their outlaw days. 

                 New Zealand's cowboy fishermen have been reined in,
                 but men like Bill Moore will keep riding out on the the
                 watery range seeking fish and adventure. 

                 "I'll do it til I die," says Moore. "Or until it gets me.
                 There's nothing else like it."


                 make it

                 08.07.2000 - By TIM WATKIN 

                 Mike Cassidy was just two weeks into an
                 introduction-to-fishing course in 1996 when Mark
                 Phillipson appeared at the Marlborough Maritime School
                 looking for a crewman. 

                 Phillipson, aged 28, was planning a trip into Cook Strait
                 fishing for hoki and needed a replacement for his regular
                 crewman who was injured. 

                 Warren Wood, who ran the school, was reluctant to let
                 any of his pupils go. They hadn't done the course's
                 safety lessons yet. But Cassidy, a year older than
                 Phillipson and with previous fishing experience, said "I'll
                 go - I've been fishing before". 

                 Before, but never again. 

                 The pair went out on the 14.6m fishing boat Chance. At
                 12.42pm on Saturday June 1 they reported their position
                 as near Lucky Point, south of the eastern entrance to
                 Tory Channel. They had four tonnes of hoki on board
                 and were heading for Picton in the face of deteriorating
                 weather. 

                 A lifejacket and pieces of the boat were washed up at
                 Port Underwood, but the Chance was never heard from
                 again. Phillipson's mother, Liz, said fishing was all he
                 ever wanted to do. 

                 Such tragedies have been part of this country's story
                 since people first arrived here. Maori and Pakeha alike
                 have fished to survive on these remote islands and
                 many have died in the process. As one 46 year-old
                 skipper said "every time you throw the lines off it's a
                 risk, isn't it? You're going out to an environment that's
                 not ours." 

                 New Zealand history has many stories similar to the
                 fatal final voyage of the Andrea Gail in The Perfect
                 Storm, as it sunk, exposed and unable to withstand the
                 sea's "big wet fist". 

                 Most recent is the loss of Endeavour III off the east
                 coast of Northland on August 18, 1998. A long-line
                 fishing boat 14.06 metres long and just over four metres
                 broad, it set off from Tauranga harbour early on the
                 morning of August 13 with three crewman and 4.5
                 tonnes of ice on board. 

                 Skipper Keith Collier, aged 45, well-liked and respected,
                 Reg Shaw, 58, and Lachlan McKenzie, 22, were headed
                 to fishing grounds north of Great Barrier Island looking
                 for tuna. 

                 The wooden-hulled, 30 year-old Endeavour III was in
                 good condition and was well-equipped with safety
                 equipment, should disaster strike. It had been issued a
                 Safe Ship management certificate just seven months
                 earlier and was fitted out with a four-person inflatibale
                 liferaft, two lifbouys, four lifejackets, four parachute
                 rocket distress signals, two buoyant smoke signals,
                 two EPIRBs and VHF and SSB radios. 

                 The boat was owned by a family trust and managed by
                 fishing company Tobe International. 

                 By Sunday August 16 the men had reached Port
                 Fitzroy on Great Barrier. There they took on-board 500
                 litres of diesel and, according to the fuel supplier, were
                 in good spirits. 

                 By Tuesday August 18, they had 2.5 tonnes of fish in
                 their hold. At 8.37am that morning they radioed the
                 Tauranga coastguard to advise that the wind was west,
                 30 knots. They would haul in their gear and head home.
                 An Auckland Regional Council buoy nearby showed that
                 the maximum wave height was still under a metre at
                 that time. 

                 Despite that message and the fact that a gale warning
                 had been in force for the sea area Brett since the day
                 before, the trio kept fishing until 3pm. They then decided
                 to seek shelter at Opua in the Bay of Islands, steaming
                 towards port at eight knots. 

                 By that time the wind was shifting to the east and the
                 ARC buoy was registering wave heights of three metres.

                 At around 7pm each of the men called home. It was the
                 last time their families would ever hear from them, but
                 there was no indication of what was ahead. No fear, no
                 warning. They simply reported they were 40 miles off
                 and that all was well on board, despite four metre
                 waves. Reg's wife Marjorie says when he rang, "he was
                 so happy". 

                 In fact, the ARC buoy was recording waves five metres
                 high and rising. The wind was now easterly at 35 to 45
                 knots, blowing into a northerly swell. The result was
                 rough, confused seas, with the wave height increasing
                 as they entered shallower water near the coast. 

                 A storm was coming in with the night. 

                 At 8.40pm Collier spoke by mobile phone to old fishing
                 friend George Pinny, skipper of the Whangerei-based
                 San Elizabeth. 

                 At that time the boat is estimated to have been just 55
                 miles from the wave buoy, which was now being hit by
                 waves reaching six metres. The maximum wave heights
                 stayed that high for the next two days. 

                 Collier told Pinny they were 20 miles, about two hours,
                 off Opua and described the conditions as "pretty
                 gnarly", but did not sound worried. 

                 Whether his worry grew, we'll never know. After 8.40pm,
                 the Maritime Safety Authority accident report states:
                 "No further communication is received from Endeavour
                 III". 

                 Throughout Wednesday August 19 various family
                 member tried and failed to phone the crew. But no-one
                 raised the alarm. Endeavour III had talked frequently to
                 the Tauranga coastguard, but the reports were not made
                 at arranged times and so when they stopped they were
                 not unduly missed. 

                 But by Thursday concern was growing and eventually,
                 at 8.30pm, Tobe management called the Tauranga
                 Police, which in turn advised the National Rescue
                 Centre. 

                 The trio were all fit "survivalists". 

                 "You wouldn't get three better guys able to survive,"
                 Tobe manager Kent Peters said during the search.
                 60,000 sg km of sea was searched. 

                 On Saturday August 22, an oil slick was discovered
                 near Moturoa Island in the central Bay of Islands and
                 the next day an oar from the boat was found. The official
                 search was called off, but a private search involving
                 seven planes, two helicopters and 35 fishing boats
                 continued and found floats, buoys and other items of
                 wreckage. Even a sonar scan by the navy several
                 weeks later failed to provide family and friends with any
                 answers. 

                 The Maritime Safety Authority accident report
                 considered it "likely that Endeavour III capsized and
                 sank in rough seas while heading for shelter in the Bay
                 of Islands". 

                 Endeavour III and its crew were never found.
                 Sinead O'Connor: No regrets

                 08.07.2000 - By RUSSELL BAILLIE 

                 Even with the shortness of time and the long distance
                 between us, talking to Sinead O'Connor proves an
                 intense, exhausting exercise. It's disarming from the
                 moment the provocative Irish singer's surprisingly deep
                 voice comes down the line from her Dublin home, where
                 it's just gone 10 am — "I got up a short while ago so I
                 am not responsible for anything I say," she laughs for
                 the first and last occasion in our allocated time — to the
                 final goodbye where she insists we pass on a big "Jah
                 Rastafari" to her former Kiwi housekeepers. 

                 In between, the conversation swings alarmingly. 

                 One minute it's Sinead the Deadly Earnest — glancing
                 at the transcript later, the words "child abuse," for
                 example, pop up seven times, with "dysfunctional
                 family" and "survivor" not far behind. 

                 And there are frequent invocations of her musical saints
                 — Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, John Lennon and Kurt
                 Cobain all get repeated mentions. So do Alanis
                 Morissette ("Alanis is basically Sinead with hair," she
                 offers proudly), Britney Spears and Princess Diana. 

                 Then there's a reflective 33-year-old who talks about the
                 confrontational actions of her 20s as if it's ancient
                 history: "I feel the need to defend that little girl very
                 strongly. That was a very brave girl who did all that
                 stuff." Every time she utters the word "controversy" she
                 adds the rider, "in inverted commas." 

                 But first we talk about the reason for this rare chat, her
                 new offering Faith and Courage. It's a surprisingly
                 accessible album, considering the ups and downs of her
                 life since its predecessor. Yes, after all that, a pop
                 record? 

                 "It is and it also isn't. It's a bit of a trip in a way. The first
                 few songs are poppy. Once you get to track 6,
                 something else kicks in. There is another spirit with the
                 arrival of the whistle," she says, referring to the
                 traditional Irish instrument she's often employed in her
                 musical approach, which has long mixed rock, hip-hop
                 beats and reggae basslines. 

                 But lyrically it's a typically soul-baring collection and it's
                 a rare song that doesn't begin with the personal
                 pronoun. Interestingly, on one track, The Lamb's Book
                 Of Life, O'Connor sings: "Words can't express how
                 sorry I am/If I ever caused pain to anybody." 

                 What's this? The singer apologising for the outlandish
                 acts and outspokeness which has risked making
                 Sinead the Celebrity more interesting than Sinead the
                 Singer? 

                 "No, not at all. What it is acknowledging — how can I
                 explain it properly? — I am not saying I am sorry for
                 anything I did, but what I am saying is, it was
                 necessary to do all of the things I did in order for me to
                 survive and in order for me to help other survivors, right? 

                 "And so I am not sorry at all and in fact I am proud. But
                 I am sorry that things which were necessary for me to
                 do did cause pain to other people. There's a clear
                 difference there. 

                 So, no regrets ... for any of it? 

                 "I have no regrets. Only the fact that I didn't have more
                 love for myself and not be so hurt by you guys. The only
                 regret: I was too young to understand that the media are
                 animals, basically. I think the death of Princess Diana
                 actually says it all — they don't like strong women." 

                 Yes, yes. But let's head to Earth for a minute. Would
                 she accept that with her headline-making habits and her
                 increasingly harrowing recordings through the 90s,
                 those who became fans early on might have found it a
                 confusing trip since? 

                 "I can't say what's it's like for anyone in this world other
                 than me. I'm not in the business of trying to make
                 everyone love me." 

                 "I make records that hopefully can provide some healing
                 and hope, in this case some sunshine for people who
                 have been through similar experiences as I have been
                 through." 

                 Meaning? 

                 "I make records who are designed for a specific
                 audience, namely adult survivors of child abuse or
                 dysfunctional families, frankly. 

                 "I think people who don't identify with that may not
                 identify with me or my music, or understand what all the
                 headlines have been about, or what all the 'controversy'
                 has been about. 

                 "But I think those who come from backgrounds like I
                 came from can identify strongly with the lot without
                 being thrown off-course. 

                 "I never was a pop singer. That is never what I was on
                 about. I can't allow that to stop me doing my job which
                 is, as I see it, to use my voice to help those who need
                 help." 

                 But how can pop music, even your particularly spiritual
                 take on it, really "help"? 

                 "Well, the fact that Nothing Compares 2 U was a huge
                 hit single wasn't really meant to happen. Therefore I
                 freak a lot of people out because I am someone who
                 slipped into the mainstream completely by accident.
                 They did not know what they were getting. 

                 "They didn't realise that they had a little punk on their
                 hands and I wanted it to be very clear that, although I
                 was in the mainstream, I was not at all one of those
                 Celine Dion-type people who want to do nothing but sing
                 'oh baby baby,' and that I am interested in actually
                 helping humanity." 

                 About this point, you worry that O'Connor could go on
                 like this all night and and are thankful that your time is
                 up. 

                 But not before one last question which she is free to
                 take as seriously as she wishes: Has she ever been the
                 least bit mad? 

                 "What is mad in your dictionary?"she shoots back,
                 unamused. 

                 "Mad as opposed to which model of sane? Whose
                 model of sane? I think I've been human." 

                 * Sinead O'Connor's Faith and Hope album is available
                 now. 

                 Sinead's decade
                 (the highlights) 

                 1990: Having released debut album the Lion and the
                 Cobra three years previously, O'Connor's second album
                 I Do Not Know What I Haven't Got delivers single
                 Nothing Compares 2 U into the world's pop charts.
                 While touring the US she refuses to perform at a venue
                 which requires the national anthem to be played before
                 concerts. In the furore which follows, Frank Sinatra
                 threatens to "kick her ass." 

                 1992: O'Connor starts the year by storming into the
                 Irish parliament to have her say over an abortion
                 controversy about a 14 year-old rape victim. Appearing
                 on American NBC's Saturday Night Live in October, she
                 rips up a photo of the Pope, shouting: "Fight the real
                 enemy." A fortnight later she is booed off stage at a Bob
                 Dylan tribute concert at New York's Madison Square
                 Garden. And in December she donates her Hollywood
                 mansion to help the starving in Somalia. 

                 1993: She makes a half-hearted suicide bid which she
                 later explains as being in "the cry-for-help zone" and
                 takes out a full page advertisment in The Irish Times to
                 explain her mental state. 

                 1994: O'Connor seeks treatment in a London drug and
                 alcohol rehabiliation clinic. 

                 1997: O'Connor appears as a vulgar Virgin Mary in Neil
                 Jordan movie The Butcher Boy. 

                 1999: She becomes embroiled in a custody battle over
                 daughter Roisin with the girl's father, writer John
                 Waters. She is ordained as a priest — "Mother
                 Bernadette Mary" — in a dissident Roman Catholic
                 group, the Latin Tridentine church.


DNA goes under microscope

Forensic scientists are uneasy at the demands lawyers may make because of flaws 
exposed in DNA procedures. Eugene Bingham reports.

Inexact Science: If a crime scene sample includes DNA from more than one person, 
scientists have to interpret the findings.

Data Decisive: Judith Ablett-Kerr, QC, says times have changed since she defended 
Vicky Calder (right) using a wealth of scientific data.

'We're aiming … to be more confident that when we get a prosecution we get the right 
one.'	Phil Goff	Justice Minister

'We really need a statute to give judges guidance on … these questions.'	Scott Optican
	Evidence expert

Beyond the headline-grabbing exposure of DNA botchups rages a wider debate about 
core principles of our justice system.
Defence lawyers, prosecutors and forensic scientists are in the midst of a crucial 
argument about, what material should be made available to defendants facing cases built 
on DNA evidence.
Such a debate is fundamental to one of the central tenets of our justice system, the right 
of an accused to a fair trial.
The issue has been highlighted in a Ministry of Justice report on DNA 
evidence and how forensic scientists present results in court.
The report was written by a team of senior officials appointed to investigate procedures at 
the Institute of Environmental Science and Research (ESR) after Peter Robert Howse was 
freed on a rape charge which subsequent DNA tests showed he almost certainly 
committed.
In carrying out their investigation, the officials could not avoid the 
festering issue of disclosure: the prosecution's legal
duty to divulge information central to the Crown case or relevant to the 
defence.
One of their recommendations was to
ESR to revise its disclosure requirements to make more information 
available to the defence. The institute has
already   indicated it is not eager to do this.
The ministry made its recommendation after reviewing what happens with DNA
results that require interpretation onl the part of the scientist. DNA testing does not 
always give clear-cut results, despite the widespread belief to the contrary.
In most cases, scientists can compare a crime-scene sample with a sample 
taken from a suspect and make a clear-
cut decision on whether they match.
Sometimes, however, an interpretative judgment is required, for example if 
the test produces a mixed result in which
the DNA of more than one person is found.
As one of its quality control checks, ESR has a system of peer review which 
the ministry found to be satisfactory.
The officials point out, however, that the notes, drafts and conclusions of 
such reviews, including records of disagreements, are not always kept on the case file or 
made available to the defence.
"It is of crucial importance to the defence to know whether results are marginal, or of any 
interpretative difficulties," says the ministry report.
"In particular, defence counsel need to be able to make informed judgments 
about whether or not independent
scientific expertise should be sought."
The information must be available, to ensure the system works effectively. 
This will help lawyers identify early any
issues about the DNA testing and, where necessary, to challenge any interpretations.
The ministry's conclusion has been hailed as a breakthrough by some defence 
lawyers who have complained about
the problems with obtaining information.
The convener of the Law Society's criminal law committee, Judith 
Ablett-Kerr, QC, said it was vital for defence
counsel to have access to material from forensic laboratories and the right 
to seek their own tests.
She speaks from experience. Her defence of Christchurch biologist Dr Vicky 
Calder in the "poisoned professor" case four years ago revolved around contesting
the Crown's scientific evidence.
Though the case did not involve DNA evidence, it was fought over scientific 
tests by the defence and prosecution.
"I was fortunate in the Calder case that I managed to get pretty good disclosure from 
them but things have changed since then and some matters are not disclosed," said Mrs 
Ablett-Kerr.
Armed with a wealth of scientific data, she was able to demonstrate to the jury 
differences between the ESR results and those of independent analysts.
Dr Calder was found not guilty in her second trial on charges relating to the alleged 
poisoning of her former lover, Professor David Lloyd.
Justice Minister Phil Goff has backed moves to give defence lawyers equal rights of 
access to ESR information and to make sure the notes and drafts are held on the case file 
and are available to the defence.
"What we're aiming to do is not only succeed in prosecuting but to be more 
confident that when we get a prosecution
we get the right one.
"Wherever you have a technique that involves human procedures and human 
interpretation, then you cannot say you
have an infallible technique and it's important you have safeguards."
At the ESR, however, the issue is not straightforward.
Dr Keith Bedford, of the institute's forensics unit, said the disclosure 
and defence access issues were "quite thorny."
Asked if the institute accepted the principle of the defence having rights 
of access, he said: "We're not disputing that - it's the mechanism we are concerned about 
clarifying and formalising.
"The requirement to disclose is something that we recognise as a moral 
obligation but there are no guidelines or
protocols in place around what is expected to be disclosed and how that is to be 
managed."
At the heart of ESR's concerns are two issues: money and privacy.
"I'm not making resources the issue," said Dr Bedford, "but the cost of preparing copies 
of files which can be literally thousands of pages of technical output and data is not 
insignificant.
"There are also issues around privacy because we may hold in our lab files 
information on suspects who have been
excluded in the course of the investigation and information relating to 
what we describe as reference samples - the
boyfriend of the complainant, a family member, that sort of thing.
"It's not just a matter of duplicating a file and sending it off when it's 
requested."
Dr Bedford said ESR and Crown Law were working on guidelines for 
prosecution lawyers. From that, protocols for defence counsel could also be developed.
Beyond ESR's concerns about the practicalities of providing more information to 
defendants is a broader philosophical contention.
"Disclosure is an obligation on the prosecution," said Dr Bedford. "ESR is 
not the prosecution - ESR provides an impartial scientific service to help the justice 
system reach scientifically conclusions."
(A recent High Court decision has thrown doubt on the argument that ESR is 
independent of the Crown in terms of disclosure.)
Auckland University Law School evidence expert Scott Optican said the whole 
debate demonstrated the wider problem with disclosure rules in New Zealand.
"Despite urgings over many years, NZ doesn't have one comprehensive, all-inclusive 
statute telling everybody what they need to disclose, when and why."
Until the rules were set down, the arguments would rage on, he said.
"We really need a statute to give judges guidance on how to approach these questions, to 
make firm lists of categories of disclosure and the timing of disclosure."

100 years ago
from the files of the New Zealand Herald

Trade rise sign of bright future
Gauging the condition of the colony by its volume of trade, as represented by its imports 
and exports, it must be pronounced eminently satisfactory, for the figures indicate a 
degree of prosperity and progress that is sufficiently remarkable to attract attention.
The imports for last year amounted to £8,739,633, being an increase of $509,033 as 
compared with those for the previous year, while the exports reached the large total of 
£11,938,335, an increase of no less than £1,420,330 over the exports for 1898. The total 
trade for the year was £20,677,968, as compared with £13,748,555 for the preceding12 
months, or an increase of £1,929,415.
These figures allow an excess of exports over imports of £3,196,702, which may be taken 
to represent the balance of trade in favour of the colony.
The higher values ruling during last year of wool and grain and other products account 
largely for the increase in the value of the exports. But this increase is also due, in no 
small measure, to the steadv growth of our producing power.
This power is capable of an enormous expansion and, as the country becomes still further 
opened up and settled by an active and industrious population, our exports will continue 
to increase by leaps and bounds.
The favourable climate conditions, prevailing here, and the extraordinary adaptabilily of 
large areas for agricultural and pastoral pursuits and dairy industry - the chief sources of 
national wealth - mark  for New Zealand an exceptionally bright future.

Trusts return alcohol profits to community

David Jacobs says a liquor licensing trust is the win-win option for the Eden-Roskill 
district, which has voted to go 'wet.'

Last November, a majority of voters in both Mt Eden and Mt Roskill decided we wanted 
our districts to go "wet."
Now we have to decide whether we want our local bars and bottle shops to be managed 
by a licensing trust.
A postal vote is being conducted and, if we wish to participate, voting papers must be 
sent to the returning officer by Friday. Meanwhile, we have been targeted by a large 
corporation with a vested interest in the outcome of the vote.
 Progressive Enterprises, owner of Foodtown and 3 Guys supermarkets has put huge 
advertising messages on local billboards ,and smaller ones in our shopping bags. They 
advise us to vote against a licensing trust, if we want to buy beer and wine from our local 
supermarket.
Many of us do want to buy our wine and beer conveniently with our groceries. Should 
we, therefore, be grateful to Progressive Enterprises for spending so much on advertising 
to influence our democratic decision-making?
Some of us are not. Although the Advertising Standards Complaints Board has ruled that 
the advertising is acceptable, it is misleading. We know that licensing trusts in 
Auckland are happy to negotiate with supermarkets We need only walk into Pak 'N' Save 
in Mt Albert to see the positive results of such negotiation.
It is only Progressive Enterprises' unwillingness to deal with trusts that inhibits the sale of 
beer and wine in its supermarkets. Several reasons for such unwillingness were suggested 
in a Herald editorial last week. However, the profit motive was conspicuous by its 
absence.
When a licensing trust rents space to sell beer and wine in a supermarket such as Pak'N' 
Save in Mt Albert, the profits go back to the community. When a supermarket sells its 
own liquor, the profits go to its shareholders.
Most of Progressive Enterprises' shares are owned overseas.
Companies are, of course, entitled to go after all the profits they can legally get. 
However, I would prefer an open acknowledgment of their business interests when they 
seek to influence voting on all issue affecting my local community.
The purpose of licensing trusts is to sell alcohol responsibly, with the well-being of the 
community in mind. A key part of fulfilling that purpose is the return of profits to the 
community in which a trust operates. This is in the form of grants to schools, clubs, art 
and cultural groups, community services and facilities.
Last year, the Waitakere and Portage licensing trusts gave $3 million between them to 
their local communities. I would like the people of Eden and Roskill to benefit in the 
same way, as well as being able to buy wine and beer at the local supermarket. That is 
only likely to happen if we vote for a licensing trust.
It has been suggested that the community might pay for such benefits through higher 
liquor prices. That is clearly not the case at Pak'N' Save in Mt Albert.
There, the community benefits from the promotional prices offered by Pak 'N' Save 
throughout the Auckland region in addition to other promotions offered by the Portage 
Licensing Trust.
 It has also been suggested that a licensing trust in Mt Eden and Mt Roskill might pay   
more than a private company would to its suppliers, its managers or its staff.
Again, that is simply not true in the case of the licensing trusts in the Auckland region
- the Waitakere, Portage and Birkenhead trusts. Those trusts employ West Auckland 
Trust Services to manage their liquor sales. The management has experience and 
knowledge of the industry. Stock is bought at the best available prices. Managers and 
staff are paid at market rates.
With bulk buying, joint, marketing and promotion concessions, plus a common computer 
and warehousing system, such an arrangement could also work well for a licensing trust 
in Eden and Roskill.
Critics argue that trusts don't perform well financially. Yet an Audit Office report for 
1996-1998 shows otherwise. Over those three years, the Waitakere Licensing Trust 
delivered an average return on assets of 14 per cent and an average return on equity of 18 
per cent. The Portage trust delivered an average return on assets of 19 per cent and an 
average return on equity of 39 per cent.
Unlike private enterprise, licensing trusts are directly accountable to the communities in 
which they operate. Trustees are elected from the community every three years. If voters 
don't like the performance of their trust, they can dump the trustees and elect new ones.
Free-market ideologues will always oppose this kind of community-owned business 
activity. The more pragmatic see it as a win-win solution, benefiting us both as 
consumers and as citizens.
 David Jacobs is the campaign coordinator for Community Trust Eden Roskill.

No call for art to deal with ethics

Kate Belgrave

I had my annual queers 'n' arts chat with Graham Capill at the weekend.
Our dialogue, as you have no doubt guessed, was about Queer as Folk, the
television drama that features a group
of young, gay, English blokes going about their controversial business in fairly graphic 
detail.
Mr Capill expressed concern about Queer as Folk to TV4 before it screened. 
His contention is that the programme
suggests a certain lifestyle to impressionable youngsters and allows that 
lifestyle a certain paedophiliac imperative.
(One of the show's main characters is a teenage boy who enjoys, before our 
watering eyes, intercourse with a man of 29.)
My contention is that this programme is not at all political and aims to 
promote precisely nothing. Although the
protagonist is a teenager he's 15, apparently), he's hardly an innocent. 
Quite the reverse. He knows all about sex and
is very keen to learn more. He spends his extracurricular time stalking the 
bloke he fancies. When he's in school, he masturbates chums at playlunch.
Any time left over he spends accusing his parents of misunderstanding him, and running 
away from home. To cut a fairly obvious story short, he 
is like most teenagers. And, like most
teenagers, he is neither angel nor fiend. He just IS. That's the point. The 
show neither judges nor champions him.
Surely there is room for art that simply portrays us as we are?
Mr Capill thinks not. He has every right to think not, of course.
He also has every right to write a letter slamming me for suggesting he 
should think otherwise. What I'd like to do
before that happens, though, is pick up on a few of the points that he made 
during our conversation, because I've
heard other Queer as Folk opponents make them too.
"[Art] is used as a Trojan Horse to cover up those activities 
[paedophilia]," Mr Capill observed, "and yet we're still
sending people to prison for them."
He meant, of course, that it is unfair to portray on screen the sorts of acts for which 
people in real life are chucked in the slammer.
The argument seems to be that
convicted rapists have every right to feel cheesed off if they see a 
fictional character getting away with rape on telly.
My answer to this is that it is simply not art's job to be sensitive to 
people who have been caught out in a crime. I'm sure every armed robber thinks, "If 
only," every time he sees the first hour of Bonnie and Clyde and that every serial
murderer wishes he'd got as far as Natural Born Killers, but that's too bad. 
It is not art's job to draw tidy ethical lines.
Mr Capill's second point is that Queer as Folk, by not punishing its protagonists, drew too 
pretty a picture of homosexual life for the impressionable youngsters who watch TV4.
"Obviously, the things you watch do influence behaviour. If it didn't, then 
why do people spend millions of dollars on
advertising? Why is it that fashions are set by what people are wearing in 
movies?" he said.
I wondered out loud about that. I don't think that Queer as Folk is about 
recruiting youngsters to the gay cause. The
picture it draws isn't pretty at all. The star turn's friendships suffer, his relationship with 
his father is decimated, he humiliates himself by chasing a man who couldn't care less 
and he offends everyone else he meets because he's a self-centred, obnoxious little sod.
Which leads, in a way, to the last point Mr Capill made - that the danger 
of this programme was not that it might send
a message to youngsters, but that it might send no message at all.
"To deal with [this debate] in a way that is ambiguous is very, very irresponsible."
That argument flies in the face of the first two points, but we will give Mr Capill the 
benefit of the doubt.
He, at least, has the guts to make his views on gay life public. What are yours?

Bill gives workers back their bargaining power

Laila Harre says the Employment Relations Bill's promotion of collective bargaining will 
help to safeguard young workers, many of whom have seen their conditions eroded by 
the present law.

Two-way Process: The Employment Relations Bill is based on the perception that 
employment is a human relationship.

The Government today introduces to Parliament a piece of legislation that 
will bringan end to the Employment Contracts Act. The Employment Relations Bill is the 
first in a series of changes that will revamp New Zealand's industrial relations landscape.
The next step will be modernising the minimum code, part of which will be legislating 
for paid parental leave, modernising the Holidays Act and bringing more certainty to the 
minimum wage-setting process. Together, these changes will better protect workers most 
vulnerable to exploitation. These workers are usually young and unskilled and enter into 
contract negotiations with very little information and a very low estimation of their value 
as employees. The plight of young workers has come to typify negative perceptions of 
the Employment c Contracts Act, particularly the "take it or leave it" contracts they 
cannot even take home to show Mum and Dad.
Take the experience of many high school students who begin their working 
lives stacking shelves or operating the
checkout at their local supermarket.
Employment Contracts Act-style bargaining has eroded their basic conditions 
and caused a big reduction in the going
rate for supermarket staff. One study estimates that students working 
part-time in supermarkets have had a 44 per
cent decrease in real wages because of the loss of evening and weekend 
penal rates.
Yet it seems only yesterday that Sir William Birch was promising that the 
Employment Contracts Act would not
mean the end of penal rates.
The removal of the award system had huge ramifications across many sectors, 
making it possible for employers to cut wages and conditions in a bid to offer discounts 
and increase market share.
In fact, cutting labour costs became a key focus for many facing real competitive 
pressures - and once that process began the imperative was for others to follow suit. So 
for the past decade supermarket employees have effectively been subsidising our weekly, 
shopping bills.
The Employment, Contracts Act was based on the principle of "labour market 
flexibility." This translates to employers being able to treat workers like any other 
commodity and use as much or as little of their time as they need, at the lowest possible 
price. To make workers this flexible meant laws were needed that reduced their 
bargaining power. This required a shift from collective to individual bargaining, and it 
was essential to the goals of the Employment Contracts Act that unions be weakened.
That is because unions can provide individual workers with the information and support 
they need to get a fairer share of the pie.
Under the Employment Relations Bill, Young workers will start off with a 
better chance of negotiating a fair deal because unions will have rights of access to all 
workplaces. This gives them the chance to encourage union membership and promote 
collective bargaining, the means by which sustainable, workplace relationships and 
agreements can be built.
Labour and the Alliance discussed in great detail the issue of who is 
covered by collective agreement. We aimed to
put in place a regime that protects new workers by removing employers' ability to 
undermine opportunities for collective bargaining to take place.
 Under the new legislation, for the first
30 days  all new employees will automatically be covered by an agreement based
on the collective agreement applying in the workplace. This means new workers can be 
offered more, but not less, than the collective agreement.
Such workers will be able to make a genuine choice, once they are 
established in a workplace, to join the union and
the collective or to bargain on their own.
Collective agreements will be negotiated by, and cover, union members.
The Employment Relations Bill will bring about the promotion of collective 
bargaining through a range of measures including new worker provisions, good faith 
requirements and limits on the ability of employers to contract out work in order to avoid 
negotiated agreements or the minimum wage, holidays and  personal grievance rights.
Those who opt to bargain on their own will also be better protected. Any 
proposed individual agreements must be in
writing, employees must be able to find out what else is on offer, and they 
must have access to advice.
The days of take it or leave it contracts are numbered.
All this will mean good employers will have options other than bowing to 
the bad faith employment practices of their competitors in a bid to stay afloat.
The bill is based on the Government's view that employment is much more 
than a commercial transaction. It is also a
human relationship and, like other human relationships, the way it operates 
needs to go beyond the raw exercise of
economic power.

 Laila Harre is the Minister of Youth Affairs and Associate Minister of Labour.

Mussels alive, alive oh

Our Place		Colin Moore

Mussel Inn: Havelock's good ol' boys move south to open a branch in Kaikoura.

Anyone who has ever kayaked or sailed in the MarIborough Sounds knows that the 
region's worst-kept secret is its mussels. In quiet cove after quiet cove, the succulent 
shellfish lie just below the surface growing seemingly on the sea floor.
Pelorous Sound is one of the best mussel locations and at its head is 
Havelock which, in tourist brochure-speak, has
taken to calling itself the greenshell mussel capital of the world.
The town, a short drive from Blenheim and the Marlborough vineyards, is 
also the home of the Mussel Boys. It's not a rock band nor a standover gang but a 
restaurant that specialises in, yes, you guessed it, mussels.
They are steamed or grilled and served with freshly baked bread. It has 
done so well that last year the Boys was a
finalist in the New Zealand tourism awards.
The success has also prompted the restaurant to open a branch in Kaikoura.
The new restaurant has the same colonial theme as that in Havelock, with 
recycled wood floors and a teal-green
interior. Most of all, another team of one-metre high, glass-fibre mussel 
boys play rugby on the roof of the Kaikoura
eatery just as they do at Havelock.
The Kaikoura restaurant seats 80 and is the pilot for a possible franchise. 
In time there may be Mussel Boys all over the country.
Go and get pampered
There may be no better way for a busy modern woman to unwind than to be 
pampered at a health and fitness spa
weekend at Queenstown's Millbrook Resort.
Guests have unlimited use of the luxury resort's tennis courts, mountain bikes, pool, spa 
and sauna. A facial and massage, and even a game of golf, are all part of the deal. Beauty 
treatments such as lash and eyebrow tints and
body wraps cost extra.
Prices include airfares and
transfers, and start at $899 from Auckland.
Contact: Millbrook Resort on freephone 0800 800 604 and speak to Sue, 
Rochelle or Jane in reservations.
Walk on by
You can't get closer to a place for a relatively minimum effort than on a European-style 
walking holiday.
When there's a comfy bed and a hot shower at the end of the day and someone 
to carry your bags, walking becomes therapeutic and relaxing.
The New Zealand Walking Company brings the concept to this country, and 
while they may not be inn-to-inn walks in
the European style, they do offer the pleasing alternative of stunning 
scenery.
The walks comprise a variety of day-walks in Auckland, Rotorua, Nelson, 
Akaroa and Queenstown. They are mostly
based in the one lodge or inn. Lunch and a day-pack is provided.
The six-night/seven-day packages, leaving each Sunday, include flights 
within New Zealand, transfers and accommodation.
Contact: The New Zealand Walking Company, ph (09) 580 0087, e-mail 
info@nzwalkingcompany. com
A four-day ramble in the Nelson Lakes area is also available from walks 
specialist, A Walker's World.
The tour, based at St Arnaud, comprises four one-day walks, the longest of 
16km to Lake Rotoiti, and costs $799
share-twin, all-inclusive. The company also offers a two-day Coromandel 
heritage walk in. the Kauaeranga Valley,
near Thames, which costs $295 a person including all meals.
Contact: A Walker's World, ph (09) 445 4121, fax 09 445 8733, e-mail 
walkworld@compuserve.com

Tuffin it out in the King Country

Blackberry fields weren't forever, as an Auckland couple proved when they established a 
rustic lodge on the banks of the Ongarue Stream. Kingsley Field reports.

Home Away From Home

Fish Supper: Just step out the door.

On The Range: Maria Tiffen gets a brew ready on the 100-year-old coal range for her 
guests who come from afar to stay at Black Fern Lodge.

For the record

Drive times to the lodge: Auckland, three and a half hours; Hamilton, Rotorua, Taupo, 
two hours.
Overnight accommodation – beds for 12, plus camping facilities.
Cookhouse booking, minimum of eight, sleeping for 24.
Restaurant fully licensed.
Cost: $120 each for overnight accommodation, dinner and breakfast.
Contact Kerry and Maria Tuffin, ph (07) 894 7677; fax (07) 894 8900

TWO years ago, Kerry and Maria Tuffin called it quits in the big city. 
Instead, they headed for a huge black-berry patch on the edge of the Pureora Forest, deep 
in the King Country.
Kerry 50, had run an engineering business on Auckland's North Shore, while Maria, 47, 
worked in a business supplying food to restaurants.
"We bought 2ha of land on the banks of the Ongarue Stream in 1987 and it was one huge 
tangle of blackberry," says Kerry.
"We went down at weekends, mainly for the fishing and hunting, but also to get away 
from the city. We lived in tents.
"Then one weekend we came home and said, 'That's it.' We sold the business, sold the 
house, and moved down here." They worked for months, clearing the blackberry and 
other 
rubbish by hand, building a large
restaurant and cook-house, and constructing a series of small chalets and a 
fourperson bunkhouse.
They hacked paths from the bush, landscaped the grounds, laid a five-hole 
pitch-and-putt golf course, put in extensive
lawns and gardens, bought another 10ha of farmland and established an 
organic vegetable patch, and arranged with
an adjacent landowner for visitors to wander over almost 800ha of 
bush-fringed farmland.
For two years the couple has run Black Fern Lodge with its Black Shag 
Cookhouse, which features deliberately rustic
cuisine in an equally deliberate setting of bygone days.
Their accommodation block sleeps 12 and includes four twin-bedrooms with en 
suites, each built in rough-sawn,
mutely-lighted, 19th-century style and decorated with ancient implements 
such as pit-saw blades, swingletrees,
rabbit traps and candlestick holders.
But it is the open-plan kitchen and the larked-ceiling dining room that inevitably have the 
visitor bug-eyed. 
Kerry bought a three-door, diesel-fired army stove, converted it to gas hot-plates and 
electric ovens and Maria haslearned to drive it with aplomb. Alongside is a century-old, 
beautifully restored coal range which is also pressed into service for water-heating, 
cooking roasts and other needs.
Enamel saucepans, ladles, cast-iron mincers and heavy frying-pans hang from 
the kitchen walls, while in the dining
hall almost every available piece of ceiling and wall-space is covered in 
memorabilia.
Even the loo is a seat of learning, surrounded by ancient newspaper 
clippings, early Donald Duck comics and several
outsized sets of bloomers and bras from the early 1900s.
The fully licensed bar is well-stocked, the music gentle and the comfort 
complete.
Maria describes the food as country fare.
"It's the sort of restaurant I'd always wanted to go to and could never 
find, so I decided to do it myself''
Evening menus usually include a thick soup and bread rolls, a roast with 
all the trimmings and one of Maria's
enormous fruit pies with whipped cream for dessert.
Coffee and tea are brewed on the coal range for customers to help 
themselves.
Bookings are essential to avoid clashes with other groups, and menus are 
usually decided beforehand. Clients can
order exotic meats such
as venison, wild pork and ostrich, while beef, lamb, chicken or fish are 
standard fare.
Kerry can provide spit-roasts for fine-weather, outdoor-evening dining.
Lunches can be from $18 a head, while dinner, bed and breakfast is $120 
each. The minimum number is eight and
the cookhouse has seating for, 24.
Already the place is catching on among central North Island residents and 
bus-loads of diners from Te Kuiti,
Taumarunui, Hamilton and other centres are common.
Occasionally, groups book the place for a weekend, bringing tents to 
accommodate the overflow, and spending their
time on bush-walks, troutfishing or enjoying the quiet of the back-country.
"Our biggest commercial party was a group of nearly 50, and we're now 
getting business-house groups for small
conferences as well as social clubs and family groups coming to stay for 
weekends," says Kerry. "We're looking at
expanding the accommodation."
Finding the place is a mission in back-country navigation - it is at least 
an hour's drive south-east of Te Kuiti and it's
best to get detailed directions from the Tuffins before setting out. City 
folk should remember that much of the travel is
on gravel roads, where taking-it-easy is essential.
Useful gear to take, even for an overnight stay, includes stout footwear 
with a change of lighter shoes, warm jacket,
hat and even a complete change of clothing. For overnight stays, include a 
good torch - there are glow-worms along
the roadside and bush-track walks at night can be great fun.
The Ongarue Stream which borders the property has many trout and there's also great 
mountain-bike riding on some of the trails as well as along the Ongarue Stream Road.

100 YEARS AGO
From Herald files
Inquiry into sackings of asylum staff
The Government gave notice of the following new bill today. Speaking on 
the 
Lunatic Asylums Board of Inquiry Bill, Mr
Fowlds stated that in the Auckland district there had been an 
exceptionally 
large number of dismissals from the local
asylum.
He did not say the dismissals were not justifiable, but those concerned 
felt they had a grievance, because they had
not been informed why they had been dismissed, and because they could 
get 
no inquiry.
Mr Bollard supported the bill, though he would like to see some of the 
provisions struck out in committee. He thought
the attendants of asylums should have a board of appeal, just as the 
railway and post office employees had.
He had seen many changes in the attendants and superintendents at the 
asylum in his district The attendants might
work in harmony under one superintendent, while under another there 
might 
be nothing but disorder.
He had seen such things himself, and no doubt similar things had 
happened 
in asylums in other parts of the colony.
Mr Napier was prepared to accept the principle of the bill, but 
disagreed 
with many of its details. The board should not
deal with every little complaint, but only with serious matters, such 
as 
dismissals.
 There was a lot of sickly sentimentalism about this right of appeal 
against responsible officers. In many cases which
had been brought under his notice, he found it impossible to champion 
the 
cause of the dismissed servant, who had
been rightly dismissed. It was very seldom that heads of departments in 
the 
civil service committed mistakes of this
kind.
However, since the principle contained in the bill had already been 
adopted, there was no reason why it should not be slightly extended. 
The House should affirm the principle, and he hoped the Government 
would bring in a comprehensive measure, and not deal with the question 
in a piecemeal fashion.
Mr Houston spoke in favour of the bill, and a second reading was 
agreed.

Going steady with Renee

Rising star Renee Zellweger puts up with Jim Carrey on and off screen 
and remains as nice as they come, reports Helen Barlow

Me, Myself and Renee: Renee Zellweger casts off her serious actress 
role to co-star with boyfriend Jim Carrey in a new comedy.

ADORABLE, kind and sweet in that Doris Day kind of way, Renee Zellweger 
remains an unspoiled Texan girl at
heart. Wearing a short-sleeved black mohair top, a large checked 
black-and-white skirt, pointy patent leather shoes
and little make-up, she could have come straight out of one of Doris' 
movies.
You've almost got to wonder about what such a nice girl is doing in a 
gross-gag movie like Me, Myself & Irene where
she stars alongside boy-friend Jim Carrey under the direction of the 
Farrelly Brothers (of 
There's Something About Mary fame).
In it, Carrey takes the good cop/ bad cop routine to new extremes, 
playing 
a policeman with a split personality - both
of which fall in love with Zellweger's Irene. And during filming Carrey 
(38) fell for his co-star.
"He helped me a lot, to try this and try that," Zellweger recalls. "He 
does 
not waver, it's quite extraordinary. People
think, 'Oh, comedy, it's so easy'.
"Yet it probably takes more confidence to deliver something that's 
pretty 
ridiculous and believe in it wholeheartedly. It
takes a solid belief in what you're doing and in yourself. That's quite 
a 
feat on its own."
Is Carrey somewhere in between the characters he plays?
"Golly, no comment," she responds with a smile. "What can I say about 
Jim Carrey? He's very handsome. That's a
surprising thing because you never see his face still. He's working all 
the 
time. So when he walks in [as himself] you
think, 'Oh. you've got to be kidding!'
"He's not one of those people who have to be 'on' all the time and has 
to 
entertain you. That's his art, that's his gift.
His humour comes from his wit. from understanding situations. He's very 
quick and smart. He's a wonderful person."
When asked about their relationship, she blurts: "I love him. There you 
go, 
I've said it," and goes on to explain how they lead a low-profile life. 
"Loads of things are reported and it's very 
funny. I've read that I'm married and I'm pregnant
and how I've got a big old ring."
There's that Texan accent again. "And I don't even like jewellery, so 
that would be a guy who really knew me well,
Huh!" Carrey has not offered her jewellery. "He knows me too well to do 
that."
Her next role is opposite Hugh
Grant in the adaptation of Helen Fielding's bestseller, Bridget Jones' 
Diary, where she beat English actresses Kate
Winslet and Helena Bonham-Carter, to play a Brit (this recalls her 
surprise 
casting as an unknown to play Tom
Cruise's love interest in Jerry Maguire.)
"I went to London about two and a half months ago and I've been living 
there, trying to integrate my cultural references
with those of Bridget Jones.
"I've been working undercover in a publishing firm, leading a normal 
life. 
I'm having a great time, but I'm the loneliest
human you've ever met in your life."
It's a different sort of movie to Me, Myself & Irene, which she 
describes 
as a more literal kind of comedy, where the
jokes are written into the screenplay.
"Irene is more of a flawed character. I would say. She just does the 
best 
she can.
"She's got different convictions from Betty and she's definitely not as 
naive as a lot of the characters that I've played
before."
So there's no hair gel scene in the film? "Not telling!" she retorts 
with 
mock bluntness, suggesting that the real-life
actress is more savvy than we might expect.
Zellweger was born in Austin but grew up "in an itty-bitty town. I'm a 
Texan girl. You really experience it, you really
live it. It's such an animated culture and it really gets into your 
blood 
in a Latin sort of way."
The fact that her father is Swiss and her mother Norwegian has been an 
Advantage, she says. "They opened the doors and let me see that America 
is not the centre of the universe and 
that it's actually a culture based on the rest
of the world."
 She became an actress by accident, after taking an acting class to
obtain her degree at Austin University, because it fitted in with the
schedule. "I could make enough
money along with my job at the bar and restaurant to get by and be very 
happy. It was really a big adventure, honestly. It just kept going and 
it 
kept becoming more important as I went along, until it suddenly was my 
life and I feel really lucky."
Lucky indeed when she beat the likes of Cameron Diaz, Patricia 
Arquette, 
Winona Ryder and Bridget Fonda for the
coveted Jerry Maguire role after she caught the attention of director 
Cameron Crowe with her previous performances in
the little-seen Love and a .45 (1994) and The Whole Wide World (1996).
Even after Jerry Maguire's commercial and critical success, she
returned to the indie realm to play a prostitute opposite psychopath 
Tim 
Roth in Liar, Liar. and a Hasidic Jew in A
Price Above Rubies. She even managed to shine alongside Meryl Streep in 
the cancer weepie One True Thing.
But those roles have driven her to do two comedies in a row.
"I'd done three years of dramatic and emotionally
challenging work. I thought I wanted to go and have some fun and not 
brood in the trailer all day, and have to
maintain that really sort of punishing state of mind in order to do 
justice to these parts. I wanted to laugh," she asserts
loudly, "and I wanted to go sit in my trailer and eat and read 
something. 
But it doesn't work like that."
She laughs as if to say, how wrong could she be.
"You get to work and you're thinking, 'I don't know how to do this,' 
and 
it becomes more intensive especially in terms
of Me, Myself & Irene. This film has a bit of a common denominator with 
the rest, I suppose, because, it's about
finding honesty in the character. The comedy of course. arises from the 
situations as well, but it's very upfront and you kind of have to get 
out of the way of it and let it happen."

There's something about these oddballs of jest

Barry Koltnow finds that behind the quirky Farrell humour there are two 
brothers who really care

Brotherhood: Peter (left) and Bobby Farrelly say that Jim Carrey is 
always first on their list.

The Farrelly Brothers, reigning kings of Hollywood comedy, work out of 
a 
two-storey building in Santa Monica just a
few blocks from the beach.
There are no signs of any kind on the building and no inkling that a 
major 
production company runs within its walls.
The first clue that this building houses the kind of twisted comic 
minds 
that could write and direct Dumb and Dumber,
Kingpin, There's Something About Mary and the new Jim Carrey comedy Me, 
Myself & Irene, is the basketball sitting
on a leather sofa in the waitingroom. It just sits there, waiting for 
someone to pick it up and dribble.
While you're dribbling the basketball you can hear the sound of a 
pingpong 
ball being swatted back and forth in an
office.
It doesn't take long to conclude that this is not IBM. When Peter 
Farrelly 
emerges from his office to greet you, he's
wearing a T-shirt and shorts. His brother, Bobby, is also dressed 
casually, 
but in long pants because he has an
appointment at a studio and has to deal with grown-ups.
Peter, 43, and Bobby, 41, live out of the Hollywood glare in Boston but 
were born and raised in Rhode Island, the
sons of a physician father and a nurse mother. Peter, who has an 
accounting 
degree and a master's in creative
writing, teamed with a friend after college to write screenplays and 
was 
later joined by his brother.
Before Bobby started writing he earned a degree in geological 
engineering, 
then tried his hand at sales and
marketing, failing miserably when he marketed his own creation, the 
round 
beach towel.
The brothers sold several screenplays before making the leap to 
directing 
their own scripts. In the Farrellys' latest
comedy Carrey plays a Rhode Island state trooper who suffers from dual 
personalities, one warm and friendly, the
other cold and hostile. 
What impact has There's Something About Mary had on 
screen comedy and does it bother you
that your style is being ripped off by a Farrelly wannabes?
Bobby: Yes, we have noticed. All the studios seem to be talking about 
making comedies that are Maryesque, but
that's the nature of this town. Whatever worked last year means they're 
going to make 10 more just like it this year.
We don't mind.
Peter: It's not like we invented the genre. There's Something About 
Mary is 
Animal House 20 years later. And you
can go way back to W. C. Fields hitting little kids with frying pans. 
It's 
all in he same vein.

So what separates your comedy from the pretenders?
Bobby: The biggest mistake a studio executive could make is to think 
that 
all they have to do is string a bunch of
gags together and make a movie out of it. What works in our movies is 
that, beneath the gags, there's really a sweet
story. It's the contrast of the outrageous gags and the sweet story 
that works. Everyone else seems to want to do only the outrageous gags.
Peter: I thought American Pie was a really nice movie. It had the funny 
gags and a lot of heart. You need heart to root
for these guys.
While making the new film, did you find that you had to try to top 
yourself on outrageous gags because of the
phenomenal success of There's Something About Mary?
Bobby: We definitely didn't sit down and try to figure out how to top 
the 
hair-gel scene. That was the furthest thing from our minds. We think 
about how to come up with a new character that the audience will care 
enough about so that when you do come up with one of these gags, you'll 
like him anyway. 
That's a much bigger challenge. The gags
are easy, the characters are hard.
Peter: We hope there's more depth to it. If you take out all the gags 
there's still a nice story and characters that you
care about. Our goal is to one day make a movie that has the laughs of 
Mary but is a tearjerker as well. If you make
people laugh and cry in the same movie, that's a home run.
Your last movie generated controversy over your depiction of physically 
and mentally challenged people. This movie
has stirred some protests from mental-health groups that feel you're 
poking fun at schizophrenics. Are you
concerned, or is this a situation where somebody simply can't take a 
joke?
Bobby: Our movie is the Jekyll and Hyde story done as a comedy. For 
anyone to take what we did seriously, or to
think that anyone else would take it seriously, is folly. We don't mean 
to offend anyone
with an ailment. It's just a goofball comedy.
Peter: Some of the people protesting need to have their heads examined.
Have you been looking for another movie to do with Jim Carrey since 
Dumb 
and Dumber?
Peter: We always keep him in mind. We offered him There's Something 
About 
Mary. We offered him Kingpin. Every
movie we've done, we ran by him. We don't expect him to do them all, 
but 
I'm glad he did this one.
Bobby: In editing this film we've seen it about 300 times. We still 
think the jokes are funny but we don't laugh any
more. The other night we saw the movie again with an audience and we 
laughed again. We forgot how good he is. It's
the best thing he's ever done. This performance will live in infamy.
Peter: God forbid we are ever involved in anything Oscar-worthy, but he 
was nominated for The Truman Show, which
50 actors could have done, and this is a role that only Carrey could 
have done. If he couldn't have done it we weren't
going to direct it.
Is there a line you won't cross when it comes to gross humour?
Peter: The line is wherever the audience lets us go. We are big 
believers 
in test screenings and we're always amazed at what they let us do and 
what they
won't let us do. They're always right, by the way. We
just don't see it sometimes until they tell us. We never
thought the hair in Mary would get in the movie, but
we shot it anyway so we could use it in the test
screenings. We figured it would turn off the audience,
but it didn't. When we asked the audiences they said
they loved Mary more after that. In Dumb and
Dumber Jeff Daniels hits Lauren Holly in the face
with a snowball. Everybody laughed. Originally,
though, she got up and there was blood under her
nose. The laughter stopped immediately. The audience knows what they're 
doing - and that's the line.
We never question their decision  - NZPA
 Me, Myself & Irene opens in cinemas nationwide on Thursday.

A QUICK WORD

... with FIONA McDONALD, former, Headless Chicken, sometime voice of 
the 
Strawpeople, front person for the house
band on the short-lived McCormick Rips, whose solo show takes over the 
Classic on Sunday night.
You opened for Tom Jones. How was it for you with the Sultan of Sweat? 
At Christchurch a few drunken punters
wanted Tom badly and needed The Man. In Wellington people were so 
attentive you could have heard a pin drop, and
Auckland was amazing. But he kept to himself. I met him for a minute 
and 
got my photo taken with him - that was
for my Dad, actually. I called, him Mr Jones because he oozes respect 
and 
professionalism. Backstage he wasn't
that charismatic. At the third show I felt comfortable enough to eat 
the 
rhubarb and ginger cake that had been offered
to us, though. 
You are going to London. Getting out after the McCormick show? No, 
we're going in September, we've been planning it for months. The record 
[A Different Hunger] is coming out later
this year, After my experience with the Chickens I realised you do have 
to commit.  I'll  be there for at least six months. With the Chickens 
we did a big Pop Will Eat Itself tour for
two months but it was just a drop in the ocean. I'm a lot more ready to 
give it a real go. Are you going as a recording
artist or for live work? I probably see myself as a recording artist 
first these days. I'm capable of doing solo shows but
I can source a band there and it only takes me a couple of weeks to 
work up a band. It's not purely for A Different
Hunger, I'm going over with a clean slate; no one knows who I am so I 
can see what's out there. Do people here see
you as Fiona McDonald, solo artist, or still as the one who sang with 
the 
Strawpeople? I think more as a solo person maybe, but a lot of people 
come up and say, 'I love that new song you've 
done with the
Strawpeople, that Cars song,' and I have to say Bic Runga sang it - but 
my name is closely linked with them which I
don't mind at all. I love the Strawpeople. 
McCormick Rips. Did the shows 
really get better? The first show was amateur to say the least, the 
second was much better but still not there, 
and the third show was better. As for me as a performer, by the third 
show we knew as a team we'd gelled. It's a shame no one saw episode 
three. Maybe they
will one day. I won't be holding my breath. Anyway, I'll be in London 
having tea with the Queen.

Healthcare team operation

Talking Heads

Name: David Clarke
Position: Chief executive
Company: South Auckland Health.
$300 million budget, 4000 staff

What makes your day at work?
For me, it's challenging something we do that's the status quo. I get a 
lot 
of satisfaction out of improving what we do,
and moving forward. Not just for myself but the whole team. I also 
enjoy 
getting out and talking to doctors and nurses
at the bedside, and finding out what's going on. A good day at work 
doesn't 
necessarily just involve work though, and I
must say it's nice to see my family in daylight sometimes.
How did you get where you are?
I went from the steel industry to the food industry and now into 
healthcare. I'd like to say there was an overall guiding
plan, but there wasn't. It's about weighing up the opportunities that 
are presented to you, and taking them. Give yourself the chance to 
succeed. Never look back and
don't have regrets. The other thing is that a lot of people don't like 
their jobs. You've got to work for a company and a person that 
you respect. And I've been focused on
relentlessly improving performance.
What was the most important lesson on your way up?
Always keep on learning - never stop. There is no single factor for 
success. I used to think strategy, structure and
systems, but a lot of it is to do with people. Having the ability to 
listen, and to manage people is important. I have
4000 people in this company, and guess where the best ideas come from? 
The 
staff. You have to get the best out of
them, and you have to listen to them. The desk is a dangerous place to 
run 
a company from, and if you want to get
innovations you need creativity. You have to challenge them to come up 
with 
ideas.
How have you dealt with pitfalls in your career?
Being a CEO of a large public institution - well you've seen the 
problems 
we face. You've seen the Gisborne health
problems, the budgets we handle. You have to love what you do, be 
passionate about it, 
and not take yourself too seriously. It
always appears that CEOs never have a bad day - but of course we do. I 
had 
one when I got a phone call at 7.30 one morning saying a baby had been 
snatched. I remember the exact time, date, and everything. I've been 
here for
eight years trying to improve the wellbeing of people in South 
Auckland, 
and it can be hard. Yes, I'm still enthusiastic.
It's often a case that it's not what you say, but what you do that 
makes a 
difference - and that's often based on
values. I've also been lucky I've worked for some great people, and I 
have 
them to talk to when I need help. At the
end of the day there are some things you can't change, and if you've 
made 
an error or mistake you have to learn from it. Front up and be honest.
What advice would you give to a young person starting a business 
career.
Please stay in New Zealand and help the country. That is a serious 
statement, but I would also tell people not to
neglect the soft side of things. When I was working in engineering I 
was fascinated with numbers and equations, and I didn't want to know 
about other things. I wanted to build a bridge.
or make powerlines. But it's important not to neglect people, and to 
realise that attitude and talent are what makes
the difference. I would say get a job that you can be proud of. at a 
place you are proud of. Never stop working hard,
and get a life outside work.
What one thing would you have done differently?
I would have learned to listen better earlier. In my career that's been 
a 
really important factor. I would have liked to
have learned to not drink so much coffee as well.
What's the biggest challenge for your organisation in the present 
economy?
We're building a children's hospital - Kidz First - so obviously I 
don't 
want to see the construction industry fall over. At
the end of the day, as a businessman I am interested in economic 
growth, 
but I would rather see inflation kept
down. A large component of our business is staff wages, and pressure on 
those wages is huge - there are
expectations from unions. For that reason I need to see inflation down. 
But there's a problem with retaining and
getting good staff, particularly in the
IT field. Queensland hospitals are advertising here for people, and I 
have a real concern that New Zealand is not being
competitive in the international labour market.
What ambitions do you have?
I have a goal for South Auckland Health and that is to take this 
fragmented system we have, where people see GPs and others separately, 
and make it a system where we all work together. I
have goals for change, and I would
probably call it disruptive change. I've learned in my eight years here 
that it's all probably going to take a lot longer
than people think. It is hard work, but I will never give up.
How do you relax?
There's this dreadful thing called e-mail now, and I don't know if it 
was 
such a good thing to get it linked up at home. I
think we all have to be careful not to let technology transport too 
much 
work into the home. I work most nights, but
the key is to work smarter, not harder. I have three kids, and getting 
out to watch them play sports on weekends is great. That's all I need. 
I do triathlons, mountain biking, and occasionally the cricket club 
needs my services.
 David Clarke spoke to Paula Oliver.

Turning Point

Ngati Whatua have big plans for a slice of ancestral headland they fought so hard to 
regain, writes property editor Anne Gibson

Prime Site: The magnificent panorama looking toward Rangitoto Island from Bastion Pt, 
where the retirement village is planned, the first block of which is not far off completion. 
Income from the development is expected to substantially benefit Ngati Whatua.

Rooms With Views: An artist's impression of Eastcliffe on Orakei retirement village, 
which is going up on the back slopes of Bastion Pt.

Ngati Whatua have become joint venture business partners in a $50 million 
retirement development, Eastcliffe on
Orakei, on the hallowed ground of Bastion Pt (also known as Takaparawha).
If it sounds like sacrilege to build on whenua rangatira, think again. The 
million-dollar income stream from the
development is planned to bring substantial benefits to Ngati Whatua.
No other retirement village has such affluence at its back door: the 
wealthy blue-rinse set from St Heliers, Mission Bay, Kohimarama and Remuera are the 
development's targets.
The tribe has joined forces with Auckland-headquartered Protac Investments, a 
subsidiary of a Tainui-affiliated company, Taharoa C Inc. worth $40 million.
Taharoa C's shareholders are Ngati Mahuta, part of the Tainui waka but not 
linked with the financially troubled Tainui Trust Board.
Protac is a specialist property investor and developer, set up from the lucrative income of 
Taharoa four years ago.
Last year Protac bought Carlton Party Hire, New Zealand's largest events 
equipment supplier. It has built a block of
apartments on Australia's Gold Coast as well as a 30-house Auckland subdivision on East 
Coast Rd in Mairangi Bay.
Protac and Ngati Whatua are developing
the retirement village on 1.75ha of the 40ha of prime land, on a site 
towards the back slopes of Bastion Pt.
One fifth of the point can be developed commercially, according to the 
Orakei Act 1991. So this slice on the Te Arawa St side has been earmarked for the 
retirement village, even though nearby residents have complained bitterly.
Ngati Whatua O Orakei Maori Trust Board and Protac are already well on the 
way towards finishing the first block of
the village, with the crane rising dinosaur-like from the backblocks of the 
point.
It would be a vast understatement to say that Eastcliffe on Orakei has a 
marketing edge. It is being promoted as "only parkland, which can never be developed, 
between you and the sea. No 
other facility will ever be able to enjoy the
same breathtaking sea views or cityscapes."
The first building is a serviced apartment block or "extra care" nursing facility with 28 
studio apartment, and communal facilities.
The joint venture parties have applied to the Auckland City Council to 
build a further 80 units. These will comprise 60
units in six three-storey apartment buildings and 20 townhouses in three 
blocks. Of the 60 units, 28 will be one-bedroom, the rest two and four-bedroom.
Te Arawa St residents have been up in arms over the proposal. Most of the 
41 submissions opposing the development were from this one street's residents.
However, 87 submissions were received in support of the development, 
including support from the two biggest
landholders in the area, Housing New Zealand and Ngati Whatua.
But the tribe was not united in thinking the development was a good idea. 
Labour MP and Bastion Pt occupation
leader Joe Hawke said some Ngati Whatua people "may have conflict with 
this [development]."
But, he said, they would all benefit in the long term.
In response to calls for tribal housing to be built on the site, Hawke said 
Ngati Whatua had bought 110 houses in
nearby Kupe St for its people.
Hawke's grandmother, Te Mihiata Te Mamae, died during the relocations of 
Ngati Whatua from its Orakei land.
Homes and buildings were pulled down and burnt by the Crown during the 
final  eviction - a crusade prompted by the visit of the Queen in 1950 and the royal tour 
passing by Orakei.
"The victims of one of the worst cases of cultural genocide in this 
country," is how the Waitangi Tribunal's Orakei report referred to the tribe.
Protac's Anthony Wilson wants to put the past where it belongs. Tiwana 
Tibble, chief executive officer of the Ngati Whatua O Orakei Corporate, concurs. They 
both say the emphasis should be on the future.
The application to build the second stage of the retirement village is due 
to go before the council this month Planning regulations stipulate that a retirement village 
or
homes for the aged are a discretionary activity. ACC resource consents 
planner Peter Rawson has recommended the second stage be approved, Wilson says.
Protac already has a list of 600 People who have inquired about buying 
apartments, he says.
A display home is open for inspection, at 61 Te Arawa St. Units in the 
first stage are selling for between $167,000 and $295,000. However, the second, larger 
stage will bring upmarket 
apartments, selling for between $550,000 and $600,000. 

Niche one, Toyota

Sports-car fun is the name of the game, says David Linklater, as Toyota comes up with a 
rival for Mazda's MX-51

Anticipation: Toyota promises that its MR2 will be well worth waiting for. The 1984 
model is credited with reviving interest in affordable sports-car fun.

On The Way: All-new replacements for the RAV$ off-roader (above) and Previa MPV 
(left) are imminent, and Toyota is also set to battle Ford and Holden with its Avalon.

Kiwi roadster fans are itching to get their hands on the Toyota MR2, a 
back-to-basics niche sports car launched this
year in Japan and Europe.
For once New Zealand isn't at the head of the export queue for a Japanese 
model, but Toyota New Zealand says this
newcomer will be worth the wait.
It is company  policy  not to comment on future models but this week a 
spokesman told Saturday Drive that part of
the delay in getting the mid-engined pocket-rocket on the local market is 
because of a specification requested by
Toyota New Zealand: " We can't reveal the details but our MR2 will have a 
special feature that we believe is well worth waiting for."
Exactly how long that wait will be is not certain. It has been suggested 
that the
MR2 will be here before the end of the year but Toyota says this will not 
necessarily be the case.
Pricing is not yet decided but Toyota will be keeping a close eve on 
movements at Mazda, whose rival  MX-5 roadster costs $42,950. 
The delay for Kiwi-spec cars has given the used import trade a head start. Toyota New 
Zealand says it knows of at least one new-shape MR2 on a dealer's  
yard in Auckland, with a price of $62,000. More will certainly follow.
The third-generation MR2 has a lot to live up to. The original 1984 model 
is credited with reviving an interest among
carmakers to encourage affordable sports-car fun. The second-generation 
MR2 of 1990 was faster and more
luxurious, but larger and less engaging to drive.
 The third-generation MR2 is 50mm
longer in the wheelbase but 295mm
shorter and 200kg lighter. Every bit an
enthusiast's machine, it is strictly a two-
seater and has no dedicated luggage space
in the back, offering only a small
compartment under the bonnet and
concealed cubbies behind the seats.
 The new MR2 has been praised for its
lively mid-mounted engine and nimble
rear-drive handling. It uses a 1.8-litre four-cylinder engine with variable valve
timing, developing 103kW.
 There has been speculation that
Toyota will slot the 140kW version of the
same engine that is now being used in the Celica into the MR2's agile frame. It is possible 
that this is the "secret" feature
that Toyota plans for the New Zealand market, although it would be likely 
to push the price beyond that of the 106kW MX-5.
Despite the wait for the MR2, there will be no shortage of new models 
from Toyota over the next couple of months.
All-new replacements for the RAV4 off-roader and Previa MPV are imminent 
and the company is also set to battle
Ford and Holden in the top-selling "big six" segment with the 
Australian-built Avalon.
The Avalon and Previa will be on sale next month and the RAV4 a little 
later.


The good oil

A tall order
Seen the Mitsubishi Pajero ad on television? The one filmed in the snow at 
Queenstown, using boxing great Muhammad Ali's voice? Mitsubishi was all set to use a  
helicopter to lift 
the Pajero to the trig station at the top of Mt Cardona when rally driver Grant Aitken 
stepped in and drove the vehicle up. 
"It was very steep, much steeper than it appears on television," Aitken says. "There was 
no track at all and the 
ground was covered in snow. I wasn't too sure
we could make it. We literally got to the top. We couldn't get any further 
because of the steel trig sticking half a metre out of the ground. Any further and we 
would have dropped off the other side."
Electromania
The next-generation Range Rover will be the most luxurious on/off-road 
production vehicle ever made. It will come with a choice of V12, V8 and V6 petrol and 
diesel engines and its optional 
electronic gizmos will include satellite
navigation, DVD player, television, video and PlayStation. It will have 
screens in the back of the headrests like the
limited-edition Autograph. It will go on sale in New Zealand in about two 
years.
Diesel destiny
We mentioned recently that BMW New Zealand is testing two 3-Series diesel 
models. Now we learn that BMW
Australia is testing a 7-Series diesel, powered by a 3.9litre 
twin-turbocharged  V8 producing 18OkW at 4000 rpm and
560Nm of pulling power between 1750 and 2500 rpm. What's with this interest 
Down Under in oil-burners? Is it
because they are more energy-efficient than petrol engines and that sales 
figures in Europe are difficult to ignore?
Diesel has 25 per cent of new car sales in Germany, 34 per cent in Italy, 
45 per cent in France and 55 per cent in
Austria.
Class and glass
The success of the New Beetle has encouraged Volkswagen to take another 
trip down memory lane, this time in a
21st-century version of the Kombi. The new carry-all will be launched at 
the Detroit motor show next January as a
prototype. It will be bigger than the original, with more class and glass. 
Expect it to be powered by a reworked version of the 2.8litre V6 Passat engine and to seat 
six or eight. VW says that if 
the Kombi goes into production it will be an up-market model, sold in the United States 
as a designer-label 
people-mover. The old one had lots of labels, none of which had anything to do with 
designer.
Catastrophe
It seems that Wednesday Motoring doesn't know a bargain when it sees one. 
In the story on the new Audi S6, the
cost of the rival Jaguar XJR was quoted as $185,000. In fact, the big cat 
is now just $165,000, which puts us the best
part of a Renault Clio over the recommended retail price. Apologies for any 
confusion caused.
We are the world
 A Kansas man who told police he crashed his car after spotting his 
mother-in-law, said: "I took one glance at her
and headed at speed over the embankment in the opposite direction."
 Of the 56 million cars produced worldwide last year, 12.8 million were 
right-hand-drive. That's because 23 per cent of
the world drives on the left-hand side of the road, including us of course.

Might as well face it, she's addicted to spuds

Season's best
Julie Biuso

They are delicious with everything but you have to match the spud with the recipe.

Spuds With Bite: Rosemary and garlic (above) will transform your humble potato. Top: 
choosing the right potato is half the battle.

IT'S POINTLESS denying my potato addiction, but I want to state, just so you 
know, that it's got nothing to do with
my Irish ancestry. Of course not. It's all to do with comfort, greed, 
gluttony, satiation and gratification. The truth is,
the potato may be just a dusty old thing with not much going for it on its 
own, but add seasonings, and it sure rings
my bell.
The story of the potato, including how the French believed it to be 
poisonous and a cause of leprosy until Antoine-Auguste Parmentier convinced them 
otherwise, and its heroic climb to glory 
as it saved starving nations, can be read
elsewhere.
I'm more interested in talking about its gustatory attributes: its 
hedonistic habit of sucking up sizzling bubbles of
butter as it develops a golden crispy jacket; its ability to transform into 
an ethereal pillow of fluff when whipped with
hot milk; and its eventual submission as it melts into a voluptuous pool of 
velvety cream in the richest French dish of
all, the potato gratin.
"Salt, butter, olive oil, cream," is the mantra all good cooks should chant 
when preparing this Cinderella of the
vegetable world. Without these, a potato's just a potato, tasting of not 
much more than a whiff of earth from whence it
came. Dress it up, and it's ready to go to the ball.
Potato Types
Potatoes are described as waxy or floury. Choosing the right type for a 
dish can be the difference between success
and failure.
Early season waxy potatoes have a sticky texture, described as waxy, 
because their sugar has not yet converted to
starch. The stickiness holds the flesh together after boiling, making them 
suitable for plain boiled or steamed
potatoes, adding to casseroles and mixing with dressings. Most new potatoes 
turn gluey if mashed. Varieties: Jersey
Bennies, nadine, frisia, draga, sebago, concorde, maris anchor and maris 
bard.
Floury potatoes can be the result of certain varieties of waxy potatoes 
maturing, during which time they become more
starchy, or potatoes which are just inherently more starchy. They are 
excellent for jacket-baking, and are also good
for most potato dishes where the desired result is golden, crisp potatoes. 
Floury potatoes tend to collapse when
boiled which is fine if you want a puree. Varieties: Agria (an outstanding 
variety, in my view), red rascal, fianna, ilam
hardy.
In the middle, is the all-purpose potato. They perform most jobs reasonably 
well, but may not shine in any. Varieties:
Rua, desiree, rocket, stroma, karaka, King Edward. Whether the potato is 
dug early in the season, or later, affects
the all-purpose potato considerably. For instance, new season desiree are 
excellent steamed and dressed with a
vinaigrette. It's later in the season that they will make the best puree. 
Ilam hardy starts off waxy, passes through a
middle-of-the-road stage, then, at the end of the season becomes quite 
floury. Like all things grown in the soil, terroir and climate affect the structure and 
flavour of the potato.
Recipes
Crunchy Potatoes with Rosemary, Garlic and Wine Vinegar (Serves 4 to 6)
Splashing these crunchy, aromatic, garlicky potatoes with vinegar just 
before serving gives them a nose-tingling perfume and a mild acid bite.
1 kg old potatoes - choose a type suitable for roasting such as agria or rua, peeled and 
cubed 
½  cup olive oil 
6 large
cloves garlic, very finely chopped 
1 Tbs chopped rosemary 
1/2 tsp salt 
Freshly ground black pepper to taste 50ml white wine vinegar (the better the quality, the 
better the flavour)
Turn the potatoes onto a clean teatowel and pat dry. Put the olive oil in a large heavy-
based frypan and heat over a
medium-high heat. Add the potatoes, toss in the oil and cook for two to 
three minutes. Cover with a lid (leaving it ajar
for steam to escape), turn to low and cook very gently for one hour, 
turning the potato cubes often until crisp.
Watch the heat; if it is too high, the potatoes will form a hard, glazed 
surface on the outside, yet remain uncooked on the inside.
Remove the lid, increase the heat to medium and add the garlic and 
rosemary. Sprinkle over the salt and grind on
some pepper. Cook for three to four minutes or until the garlic takes on 
a little colour. Pour on the vinegar and toss well.
Cook for two to three minutes, then tip all the contents of the pan into a hot serving dish 
and serve immediately.
Delicious with anything.

Basic Spuds Jacket-baked
Choose large floury potatoes, scrub and roll in salt while wet. Put them 
on the oven rack in a very hot oven, 220 deg C, for an hour and a half, turning once or 
twice. If the right sort of 
potato is chosen, the skin will become crunchy and
the inside flesh soft and fluffy.
Remove from the oven and cut them open immediately, so the steam doesn't 
soften the outside skin. Cool a few
minutes, then add several pinches of salt and lashings of fresh butter, 
or generous dribbles of extra-virgin olive oil.
To the basic jacket-baked potato, any number of things can be added to 
turn it into a substantial meal. My children
adore the potatoes with a ladleful of Bolognese sauce.
Sinking a poached egg on top of the mashed puree and serving with a slice 
of ham off the bone panfried in butter is a
tasty Yorkshire trick. Agria are superb jacket-baked.
Roasties
The most reliable way I know of turning out crisp and crunchy roast 
potatoes, is the old cordon bleu method. Choose
floury potatoes because the high starch content gives a fluffier inside 
and a crisper outside. Cut them into large
chunks, put in a pan, cover with cold water, salt lightly and bring to 
the boil. Cook gently for 5 minutes, then drain.
While they are still hot, scratch the surface of each potato with the 
tines of a fork. This makes a rough layer that
crumbles and crispens well. Potatoes with smooth surfaces tend to sit in 
the oil and absorb it (it's not very scientific,
but if you want to see for yourself watch what happens to unscratched 
potatoes next time you cook them).
Heat some oil in a roasting tin and when it is very hot and just starting to haze, put in the 
potatoes in one layer. Cook
for an hour and a quarter or so, in an oven preheated to 200 deg C, 
turning them from time to time. Sprinkle with salt
during the last 15 minutes. Agria are excellent, but rua also perform 
well.
New potatoes
Choose freshly-dug or new season potatoes with a waxy flesh. Freshly-dug 
potatoes have best flavour, earthy and
sweet with no sourness. There is no definitive way to boil new potatoes, 
but this is how I do it. I put them in a
saucepan with cold water and salt and bring to the boil, then cook gently 
partially covered with a lid. It's just a theory,
but anything which grows below the ground should be brought to the boil 
slowly because it's a more effective way of
getting the heat to penetrate the dense cells (sudden immersion in heat 
and fast boiling tends to soften the outside
before the centre is cooked).
Vegetables which grow above the ground are often of a green colour and 
benefit from the shock of being dropped into
boiling water; it helps set their colour and because the vegetables cook 
more quickly, helps to maintain good colour,
too. They tend to have a lighter leafy structure, unlike the dense 
structure of roots and tubers. Well, it's only a theory ...
Mash
It's easy enough to define the best potato to use for baking, boiling and 
roasting, but come to mashing and the lines
start to blur. Enter the all-purpose spud. My favourite for this job is 
desiree. It makes a dense fluffy whipped potato
with exceptional flavour.
However, starchy agria, particularly at the beginning of their season, also 
perform well. Even Jersey Bennies
marvellous little mouthfuls of waxiness that they are, can mash into a 
tasty potato crush (a fork-mashed semi-squished puree).
Should you peel, boil or steam them? Keeping the peel on and removing it 
just before mashing, and steaming rather
than boiling them, keeps in the flavour (the potatoes don't become waterlogged).
Peeled potatoes, cut into small chunks, are easier to deal with and will 
still produce an excellent puree. Put them in
cold salted water, bring to the boil, boil gently until just tender, then 
drain immediately. Return them to the dry pan
and set the pan on a low heat for a  minute or two. You will see clinging 
water evaporate. Good. Water does not add
flavour, it dilutes it, so let it evaporate.
Pass the potatoes through a mouli (the most effective method in my 
opinion), or use elbow grease, plenty of it, and mash with a potato masher. Don't put 
them in a food processor or you will 
have gloop on.
Add the biggest piece of butter you dare and double the amount of salt 
you think you'll need. Whip in enough hot milk to turn it into a soft and gorgeous puree 
which is just holding its 
shape. Why hot milk? Naturally, it keeps the puree hot, but, importantly, if you add cold 
liquid to a starchy ingredient 
it turns tacky.
Also, anything hot or warm will hold more air than anything cold. Whipping 
in hot milk keeps the puree hot, light and
fluffy (aerated). Serve immediately; I always serve potato puree in a thick 
china bowl which will keep it hotter longer than glass, stainless steel or wood.

Why good readers are also sure to have the write stuff

Two events put the spotlight on children's literature and reading this week. Behind all the 
theories, storytellers and fans, the key message is that all reading is good reading, reports 
Gilbert Wong

Word Power: If it's fun to read, chances are kids will want to read more.

This weekend and next week, two major events are devoted to children's 
literature.
On Sunday the Storylines 2000 festival takes over the Aotea Centre and 
Town Hall. Organised by the NZ Children's
Book Foundation, the annual festival runs a series of free events for 
children aged from pre-schoolers to seven years of age.
Luminaries of local children's literature including authors Joy Cowley 
and Margaret Mahy, and illustrators Martin Baynton, Trevor Pye and Madeline Beasley 
will be on hand to meet their admirers. On different stages live performances by actors 
and puppets and professional storyteller Mona 
Williams will entertain the littlies.
On Tuesday the 18th World Congress on Reading begins in Auckland, 
attracting 3000 registrants. Teachers,
practitioners and academics will examine a wealth of topics on early 
childhood reading.
A feature of the congress will be author luncheons with Paula Boock, Joy 
Cowley, Margaret Mahy, Gavin Bishop,
Fleur Beale, David Hill, Sheryl Jordan and Tessa Duder.
The founding principle behind both events is the need for children to be 
literate and have their minds engaged by
books. Today, books compete with video games, television and films for 
the attention of children.
With this in mind Phil Coogan, president of the New Zealand Association 
of Teachers of English, and Dr Libby
Limbrick, immediate past president of the New Zealand Reading 
Association, have put together 20 ideas which can be used by parents and caregivers to 
help their children become 
successful readers and writers.
1. Expect that your children will become successful readers and writers. 
If your child is not enjoying success in
reading and writing, contact the teacher and together work out what 
specific things can be done to help your child to
improve.
2. One of the most important things you as a parent, caregiver or member 
of a whanau can do to help your children is to be seen as a reader and writer yourself. 
Boys especially need to see 
their "heroes" - dads, uncles and sports stars - as people who enjoy all sorts of reading 
and writing.
3. Focus on what children can do, not what they can't do. Read your 
children's books so that you can talk to them
about their reading.
4. Provide older children with a reading budget to spend on reading 
materials of their choice and take your children to
the library so that you can all get books.
5. Consider letting children have the light on later than usual if they 
read.
6. Reading and writing should be fun and a shared activity. When children bring home 
books to read, try to find time to read together. If possible make this a time when you are 
all relaxed. 
Reading should not be a chore to be fitted in when children or parents are tired and 
scratchy. If the book is too hard 
or your child too tired, put it away and try again at another time, or replace it with an 
easier book.
7. Build on what children know. Talk to
the teacher about your children. Share information about your child's 
background: their first language, their interests,
what they can already do, and your family's beliefs. In return, ask your 
teacher or school for information that
describes what your child can do, as well as the challenges they are 
facing.
This sharing of information is more valuable for your children's 
learning than assessment that simply compares performance with other children of the 
same age
8. Children need to be encouraged to take risks so that they can learn 
from their mistakes. Encourage your children
to "have a go." This is not guesswork but helping children to use the 
knowledge they have to work things out for
themselves.
9. Saying things like "I really like the way you worked out that word" 
can encourage independence.
10. Encourage children to write all of the words that tell their message - 
not just the words they can spell
successfully.
11. Help children to spell correctly by asking questions such as, "What 
sounds can you hear at the beginning, middle
or end?" "Say the word slowly. Write the parts you can hear or see in 
your mind."
12. Show children which parts of a word they got right, not just the 
parts they got wrong.
13. If you have a dictionary, show your children how to use it and let 
them see you using it.
14. Help children to develop their ideas in writing by asking questions 
such as: "What else happened? "Why do you say/ feel, think that? "Can you tell me more 
about ...? When/where? "How 
does it look/ feel/ sound?" "What is going to happen next?"
15. Use a range of ways to help your child with reading and writing and 
drop the things which don't work. Try ideas such as reading to, and with, your child. Try 
to encourage children to 
make predictions about stories and to solve problems with word games by finding rhymes 
and repetition in stories.
17. Children learn to read by reading and learn to write by writing. Try to provide plenty 
of opportunities for your
children to practise reading and writing for real purposes and for fun.
For example, thank you notes, pros and cons columns for decision making, 
short diary entries, shopping lists,
calendar notes for special events, reminder notes and lists for party 
invites.
18. Try to provide a wide range of reading material. Books from the 
library, comics, magazines, newspapers, e-mails
and postcards, as well as information from the internet.
19. Encourage your children to write letters, faxes and e-mails to 
friends and family and encourage them to respond.
20. Remember that children become better readers with the more "reading 
mileage" they get. For reluctant readers
especially, all reading is good reading. So concentrate on helping to 
make reading an enjoyable experience first and
worry about introducing them to "good" literature later.

Writer weathered the storm

From struggling writer to the thinking woman's pin-up, Sebastian Junger tells Robert 
Ward how his bestseller, The Perfect Storm, has changed his life.

Sebastian Junger … in calmer waters

Rough-Going: Sebastian Junger got an assurance from the director that the film of his 
book would remain true to the real-life story.

SEBASTIAN Junger was living in Gloucester, Massachusetts, when the perfect storm 
smashed the New England
coast in 1991.
He was a struggling writer selling the occasional magazine article but 
making his living as a climber for tree
companies, scaling 30m trees to cut them down, section by section, with a 
chainsaw and ropes.
Just before the storm he had hit his leg with the chainsaw and almost cut 
the Achilles tendon. "So I was sort of
limping around town when the storm hit," he says, "and it was just an 
incredible event. These massive waves were
slamming into the coast and destroying these mansions on the other side of 
town."
The next day he learned that a Gloucester swordfishing boat, the 22m Andrea Gail, was 
lost at sea. His injury had set him thinking about writing a book on dangerous jobs as a 
possible way 
of escaping the one he was doing, and it
struck him that the Andrea Gail could provide him with a chapter on 
commercial fishing.
Six years later, after countless hours of interviews with the family and 
friends of the Andrea Gail crew, Gloucester fishermen, meteorologists, rescue service 
personnel, marine surveyors and other specialists who could help him
show exactly what the missing boat had been up against, the chapter had 
grown into a book of its own.
The Perfect Storm has spent more than two years on the New York Times 
bestseller list, made Junger a millionaire,
and given rise to what publishers like to call a major motion picture, 
directed by Wolfgang Petersen and starring George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg. Junger, 
now aged 38, reportedly got $US1.2 million ($2.57 million) for the paperback rights and 
$US500,000 for the film rights, which seems a modest sum against the movie's budget of 
just under $US120 million.
But the money wasn't his main concern. As an outsider he'd had to work hard 
to gain the trust of the working
people of Gloucester and especially the family and friends of the six men 
on the Andrea Gail. He didn't want to see
that undermined by Hollywood. He was concerned that the film respected the 
blue-collar town and stayed true to the
real events, especially the fact that, in the end, all the crewmen die. 
Letting Clooney's character, for example, survive
would have been a travesty that Junger wanted no part of.
Petersen told him he wouldn't even think of changing the ending, so Junger 
signed on the dotted line. The film-makers
asked him if he wanted to write the screenplay, but he says, "I absolutely 
did not. I'm not a screenwriter, it's just not
my specialty and it didn't interest me. There are other ways I want to 
spend my time."
The job was given to Bill Wittliff, who adapted the novel Lonesome Dove 
into the television miniseries and also wrote
the screenplay for Legends of the Fall.
When Wittliff finished the Perfect Storm script, it was sent to Junger to 
read and critique, and he had his say. In the original script the Andrea Gail skipper, Billy 
Tyne, played by Clooney, 
shared character traits with Moby Dick's
Captain Ahab, shaking his fist at the storm. Says Junger, "I said, 'Look, 
those guys were terrified. He wasn't shaking
his fist at anything. He was desperately wishing it would go away.'
"In the movie, as it is now, they do a little bit of that but it's more a 
celebration of having pulled something off, like
when they turn the boat around. I don't know if guys really do that or not, 
but the situations I've been in where I felt
tremendous danger and then I got out of it, I wasn't whooping. I was very 
subdued and quiet. So they took out the bit
with him sort of railing at the heavens."
A nightmare he had while writing the
gave Junger his perception of how the crew must have felt when the Andrea 
Gail was being pounded by waves more
than 30m high and winds exceeding 190 km/h.
In the nightmare he was in the wheelhouse with Tyne. "And I remember 
thinking, 'Oh, I never realised how scared these guys must have been.' They were names 
in the newspaper clipping, 
they were characters in the book I was
writing, they were everything but real people. And in my dream it 
suddenly hit me that these were real guys, just like
me - some of them were younger than me - and they were just scared out of 
their minds."
Junger says he likes the film a lot. "I was amazed at the storm 
sequences. I liked that they were respectful of the
town." When he saw the film, he took along Mary Anne Shatford, the sister 
of Andrea Gail crewman Bobby Shatford, and was relieved afterwards when she told him 
she liked it.
But he gives Boys Don't Cry as an example of the kind of movie he likes 
most. "Almost invariably they are pretty
small-scale, alternative productions; they're not big Hollywood action 
movies. But I realise there's no way to produce a storm at sea with a budget like The Blair 
Witch Project's.
Variety has described Junger as an extreme journalist. He's reported on 
war crimes in Kosovo, terrorist training in Afghanistan, an American taken hostage in 
Kashmir, and given freelance 
radio reports from the Bosnian war. Vanity Fair now lists him as a contributing editor, 
and he was named Sexiest Author in People magazine's Sexiest Man Alive 1997 issue 
(coincidentally, Clooney was chosen as the overall SMA that same year).
Although magazine editors like running photos of Junger with his shirt 
off to highlight his hunky good looks, he doesn't
feel too over-exposed and doubts the movie will crank up his celebrity 
quotient.
"Things are going well. I don't need any more help - I don't know where 
I'd put it," he says with a laugh. "It's not like
suddenly people are going to recognise me when I walk down the street. 
They'll recognise Clooney, obviously, but
not me. Writers are a little invisible, even the well-known ones."

Rainbow's end

The scuttled Rainbow Warrior has become home to a colourful range of underwater life, 
photographers Tony and Jenny Enderby reveal

Going Down: The Rainbow Warrior founders, victims of French secret agents

Tribute: The memorial at Matauri Bay marks the death of Greenpeace photographer 
Fernando Pereia and the last resting place of the ship.

Sea Gems: Jewel anemones (top left) adorn the Rainbow Warrior, which is now home for 
a varied crew, including goat-fish (left) and the well-armed scorpion-fish (above).

AT ten minutes to midnight on July 10, 1985, a bomb rips through a boat 
moored at Marsden Wharf in downtown
Auckland. That boat of course, was the Greenpeace flagship, the Rainbow 
Warrior - and New Zealanders awoke to
the news of the country's first international terrorist act. Crew member 
and Greenpeace photographer Fernando
Pereira died in the blast of a second bomb when he returned to the ship 
to retrieve equipment. The French secret
agents responsible, Dominique Prieur and Alain Mafart, were convicted of 
manslaughter and sentenced to 10 years'
imprisonment. Mafart was released prematurely in. 1987, Prieur in 1988.
Fifteen years on, the Rainbow Warrior lies at rest where she was sunk for 
the second time, in 1987, off Matauri Bay in Northland.
There was a final protest: a Greenpeace supporter attempted to chain 
himself to the ship's railings
in a last-ditch attempt to stop the scuttling. But scuttled she was. One 
of those there to watch her settle into the
sandy bottom from underwater was one Dover Samuels, described in 
newspaper reports at the time as "a campaigner
for the sinking."
Little remains of the Warrior's superstructure. What is left of the 
ship's rails is completely covered with common and
jewel anemones. Hydroids grow like white bonsai trees. Her deck has been 
colonised by a forest of ecklonia kelp.
Divers encounter scorpion-fish which, when lit by torch, display their 
brilliant red colour, and the glaring eyes and
erect venomous dorsal spines that indicate a response to threat. Golden 
snapper and red goatfish schools flicker
through the natural light filtering down.
The Warrior has become a living ecosystem; part of Northland's coastal 
reefs.
And a rainbow-hued underwater memorial to a black day in history.

10 ways to spot a Bobo in Auckland

1 An urban assault vehicle is the only mode of transportantion safe to use in 
the crowded little streets of Ponsonby and Grey Lynn. It's just so important to have four-
wheel-drive when dropping 
the little adults at primary school or for
trucking to Newmarket to shop off Broadway. Only Land-Rover Discovery or Jeep will 
do, preferably black.
2 Daytime regulars at Atomic in Ponsonby (where the regulars have their 
very own chutneys and sauces delivered
with breakfast) will sit for hours buried in a Booker Prizewinner or 
skimming Wallpaper* magazine while sipping decaf skinuccino.
3 Food is fashion. Out it's Cibo, Otto's or Euro. In it's something from a undiscovered 
district of Southern Europe or Southeast Asia with a good bottle from the cellar or a 
boutique beer from 
the brushed steel fridge.
4 Nobody should ever be separated from their $5000 web-ready laptop. That's 
why it's always in the Kathmandu
backpack which is always on the back.
5 Holidays are serious. Weekends, it's the little place with sea views
at Muriwai or Piha. When not available by cellphone or e-mail, it's Jordan, 
Miami, or some place booked through the Buena Vista Tourism Board.
6 Music is something to know about, not to buy. If you want to know what 
you're listening to, ask the guy making the
skinuccinos. He knows all those Euro DJs with jazz pretensions.
7 Forget cineplex entertainments; film festivals feed the mind. They're the 
big city's way of saying "take a break."
Documentaries get you out of the office and sharpen the brain. Oh, and they 
never get a general release, so you
should be able to get by at the cocktail bar with no more research than a 
flick through the programme.
8 You are what you wear. Ask Karen Walker or the fellow downstairs at 
Workshop. They may not agree that pigskin work boots go with their rags.
9 Home is where the designers  roam. It should afford you a vote in Auckland 
Central and a sea view.
10 It's not called technology. They're toys. Forget DVD, that was last year's plaything. 
Can't wait to plug Playstation 2 into the flatscreen and the
Bang & Olufsen.

Job Lot
The philatelist

David Holmes, aged 39, single, has a business, in Newmarket but deals 
internationally. Income: "I've been in the
business for over 22 years so I know what I'm doing. - A reasonable income therefore."
 Were you a stamp collector as a child?    
I was, and my father was a very active collector. I lived in the country and it was an 
appealing thing to do. It was
history and geography, and if you were interested you got hooked. I went 
into the trade when I left school at 16.
Have you noticed with e-mail and new technology that the value of stamps 
has gone up because there are fewer of
them?
The internet and. e-mail has changed our business because a lot more people use it to buy 
and sell and promote their business. But countries are still putting out stamps and even 
New 
Zealand Post would say their mail volumes, remain high.
Small countries often make considerable revenue out of their stamps. Are 
New Zealand stamps sought after?
Some islands of the Pacific and Caribbean do have stamps as one of their 
major earners. New Zealand, like Australia, is very popular. There are a lot of collectors 
in England whose area is 
"the Antipodes." And we're part of the
Commonwealth. So we are collected from lots of angles. I saw recently a 
display in London by a guy from Israel who has one of the best collections of early New 
Zealand stamps I've seen.
People will concentrate on a certain area and that's the way to do it properly. I dabble a 
little and am putting together
a collection of Tokelau Islands stamps for an exhibition of the Pacific Islands in 
Christchurch this year. I picked one
of the hardest I think. But I haven't done much collecting myself recently.
Are bugs and rugby players on our stamps good images to send into the world?
It does promote the country. Our scenery is excellent - and it's good to advertise. People 
collect themes, and worldwide there is a trend to that, so that's where  
Post will be focusing. So they will do rugby because a lot of people 
collect rugby or sports stamps.
Are stamps today as aesthetically  pleasing as older ones?  
I think they do an amazing job today, but the earlier designs are better in 
my view, especially when you think of, the
limitations they had to work within. They were simpler in design and the 
older printing methods are better also. Some of today's printing methods are not tried and 
tested. With gums and 
self-adhesives, we don't know how they will
deteriorate over time.
Sometimes we see an edition of Bob Marley or a John Lennon commemorative 
from some small country. Are they
just short-term cash injections into the local economy?
They don't have a lot of commercial value for collectors but have interest 
value. It might be commercial for the country
selling them. If you talk serious commercial value you are looking at 
things further back which have a track record,
especially those which are limited issues or have mistakes or errors.
Is your business predominantly local or international?
 I'm basically a mail-order company and probably have more, clients overseas than here. 
I mostly deal in New
Zealand stamps but I've developed across-the-board interests and stock. I 
can buy something from England on a trip
or through auctions and can sell it back to England, sometimes to someone 
very close to where I bought from. It's all
knowledge and opportunity
Is this a good time to invest? I don't know whether I like the word investment. There is a 
bit of 
speculation and we had our period of boom and bust
in the 80s, but people are astute and its more collector-based now. That 
makes it a more sound market. The market
worldwide is certainly active and becoming increasingly wise to 
e-commerce.
Is there one rarity you'd dearly love to see? I've probably seen the best, 
like the Queen's collection. The most famous - the British Guyana two-cent - has been in 
New Zealand. There is a 
possibility there might be two copies, but I'm dubious about that. That particular stamp is 
probably worth $US5 million.
- Graham Reid

100 years ago
from the files of the New Zealand Herald
Good year for Parnell church

The annual meeting of the Knox Church, Parnell congregation was held last 
evening. There was a very large
attendance of members - in fact the services held in the church had been 
well-attended throughout the year.
There was a communion roll of 143 members. The Bible Class, Christian 
Endeavour Society and the Sabbath School were all in a flourishing state, while the choir, 
under the efficient 
conductorship of Mr Bennett, had helped greatly in
making the year a most successful one.
The report also referred to the three-month lantern mission, which had been 
inaugurated. This was a service of popular
character, which was calculated to reach those who were indifferent to 
ordinary church influences.
The total amount expended in connection with the church building, organ, 
etc was £2777, of which no less than
£1020 had already been raised, so that the debt had in two years been 
reduced to £1660. During the past two years
the total amount collected for all purposes was £3900.
The report also stated that the board would shortly have to consider the 
question of erecting a hall for meetings and
social purposes.
The report of the Sabbath School stated there was a roll of 150 scholars 
and that a library had been formed and was
increasing in size.
The question of collecting church revenue came up for discussion. Mr 
Haslett thought the envelope system had been very successful. By means of this system, 
together with plate collections, 
£513 had been collected during the past
year.
It was therefore agreed to retain this system, at the same time allowing 
those who objected to it to continue to
subscribe in the shape of pew rents if they pleased.

100 years ago
from the files of the New Zealand Herald

Fruit fumigation taking too long

We referred last week to the extraordinary delays that take place in 
fumigating fruit arriving from the South Seas Islands, and the consequent injury to our 
local trade. A unique instance 
happened on Monday last, as showing how
much the experts of the Agricultural Department appear to act on "how not 
to do it" principle.
A shipment of 455 cases of oranges arrived from the South Seas Islands by 
the s.s. Ovalau in one consignment. Of
this consignment only three cases were examined by the inspector, and among 
the three cases one orange was
discovered which was alleged to be infected with the fly. Because of the 
infection of this one solitary orange the
inspector ordered the whole of the 455 cases to be fumigated at an enormous 
expense to the importer, who, of
course, charges the expenditure against the native owners of the oranges at 
Rarotonga.
The consignment will probably not be delivered from the fumigators for several 
days and will no doubt, as has been the
case with previous shipments, result in a heavy loss to the unfortunate natives. The matter 
is now becoming a serious
one for the Port of Auckland, because unless fruit is profitably disposed 
of here, the natives will not take, nor will they be in a position to take, our local 
manufactured goods in exchange for the 
fruit. The matter is one that demands the
immediate attention of the Government.
We understand that no complaints are made in Wellington, owing to the 
prompt delivery of the fruit, which even when it is infected is delivered from the 
fumigators within 24 hours.

Public deserves more say in region's future

Jack Henderson says that rural ratepayers have been able unfairly to dilute the thrust of 
Auckland's regional growth strategy. 

It is a planner's dream and nightmare: how to cushion the impact of another 
million people in Auckland over the next
50 years while making it better for all.
The unthinkable prospect of living in a corridor of sprawl stretching from 
Warkworth to Mercer has emboldened
planners to put together the Regional Growth Strategy. At the heart of the 
strategy is increased city living, with 70 per
cent of growth to be catered for in existing urban areas.
Many people have for years supported the basis of this strategy and the 
visionary idea of the compact city - a real
city, surrounded by real country.
Last year, the strategy was endorsed by the region's seven mayors and 
regional council chairman.
If, however, the camel is a horse created by a committee, the growth 
strategy is, unfortunately, a dromedary. There is
still far too much sprawl being planned - the other 30 per cent of planned 
growth is greenfields development around
the outskirts of the region.
This is a direct result of the artifice of the Growth Forum, set up to 
fill the regional planning vacuum created when the
Auckland Regional Council was dismembered by the Internal Affairs Minister 
of the day, Warren Cooper, in 1992.     
In effect, each council, gets one vote, be it Auckland City or tiny 
Papakura District. Nor are the ARC councillors on
the forum formally elected by constituency or size of constituency.
Councils have to volunteer to implement the plan, and always lurking has 
been the threat to sprawl at will.
This has allowed greenfields development concessions, since the positions 
of local district councils are affected by a
relatively small number of rural ratepayers, who naturally want to 
subdivide and make a bundle.
This private good, however, cuts across a common good - the environment.
Even planned subdivisions further modify rural ecosystems that have been 
sorely tested through existing uses.
An example is the rural stream system, which has been degraded by siltation 
because of farming practices and new subdivisions.
By comparison, most urban streams have been directed for 100 years into 
stormwater. While pipes need to be replaced periodically, there is no pretending there are 
fish there any more.
There is also a big economic disadvantage to rural growth in the stretching 
of transport and utility links. The further
goods and services have to travel, the greater the cost to the consumer and 
the environment.
Some of this additional cost is imported and makes up part of our balance 
of payments crisis, a burden we do not
want to make worse.
I support a more compact approach for two reasons. If development is 
centred in Auckland City and sub-regional
nodes such as the Manukau City Centre, with people living and working in 
their surrounds, they will support local
businesses, rather than drive to huge megacentres.
The city will be a more lively and prosperous place.
Secondly, many of the transport problems in Auckland City stem from its 
central isthmus location. It is sprawl that
causes the unnecessary daily transportation of people, goods and services 
to far-flung parts of the region via the isthmus.
Lifestyles of residents of city suburbs are harmed when local roads are 
increasingly being used as throughways. The
impacts of building outwards in unsuitable locations are much worse than building 
upwards in the right places.
Growth for some is about building new roads to new suburbs, big-box business 
parks and shopping centres.
A better solution is to keep building city centres, especially central 
Auckland, into real economic powerhouses,
efficient and contained, and try to restrain sprawl as much as is 
practicable using planning techniques, public
transport, and road-building only when necessary
As long as the Growth Forum is set up as a second-tier committee with each 
council having one vote, no matter the
size, the interests of large rural landowners will outweigh those of small 
urban landowners and the five-yearly reviews
will tend to rubber-stamp the existing, unsustainable 70:30 deal.
Electors deserve the right every three years to decide if they want the 
planning camel they are being offered, without the issue being clouded by such a 
committee.
If it is better to retain a separate Growth Forum, perhaps it should be 
given the power to specify rules to councils, with
the public represented by councillors on a population basis.
Another scenario could see the ARC, as a directly elected statutory 
authority, being required by legislation to take
over the responsibility in consultation with local councils.
Whatever the structure, the public deserve a more direct say in the future.
Jack Henderson is an Auckland constituency member of the Auckland 
Regional Council.

Does Comrade Clark want us all the same?

Noel Cox says the decision to dump knighthoods and damehoods from the honours list 
defies the realities of New Zealand's history and culture.

Arise, Sir James: Carrying out a tradition centuries old, the Governor-General of the day, 
Sir Keith Holyoake, dubs a new knight, Auckland industrialist Sir James Fletcher.

Many people will have been disappointed by the Government's announcement 
that knighthoods and damehoods will
no longer be conferred on New Zealanders. Not only does this decision lack 
a popular mandate, but it also shows a
blatant disregard of our history and culture.
Today, a man appointed to the two highest grades of the New Zealand Order 
of Merit is automatically knighted. The
Government proposes that the Knights Grand Companions of the New Zealand 
Order of Merit be renamed Principal
Companions, and Knights Companion will become Distinguished Companions. 
Such styles inherently lack the impact
and international recognition of knighthoods.
The argument used by Prime Minister Helen Clark to justify this change is 
that such titles do not reflect modern New
Zealand society because they are of British origin. This is a narrow and 
jaundiced view of our history.
The titular styles "Sir" and "Dame" were inherited from Britain, along with 
many other aspects of our culture. It is also
true that nowadays only those countries which derive their honorific 
traditions from Britain use titular styles for
members of orders of chivalry.
The French and German equivalents to Sir - Chevalier and Ritter - are now 
generally confined, if used at all, to the hereditary knights of those states, dignitaries 
about comparable with Baronets.
But many countries, republics as well as monarchies, still create knights. 
What is wrong with retaining an
established part of our history, whether it is common or unique to New 
Zealand?
For politically motivated reasons Canada stopped awarding knighthoods in 
1935 and South Africa in 1924. Australia
continued with knighthoods until 1986. New Zealand can, however, make up 
its own mind on this issue. There are no
compelling reasons why we should not keep knighthoods.
In 1980, Barbados created a new honours system including Knights and Dames 
of St Andrew, entitled to the styles of
Sir and Dame respectively.
In 1996 we introduced the New Zealand Order of Merit, including knights and 
dames. All other realms of the Queen
retain knighthoods. Canada and Australia are the exceptions, not the rule.
The dignified and prestigious style and title of a knight is not confined 
to any one country. It is a universally
recognised and respected mark of honour. It should be maintained. Indeed, 
problems can arise with abolition. Since
Australia abandoned official knighthoods, there has been a considerable 
growth in self-styled knights.
It has been suggested in the past that knighthoods are contrary to our 
supposedly egalitarian society. If this
argument were followed to its logical conclusion, the whole honours system 
would have to go.
Perhaps this is what some members of the Government would like to see. Some 
MPs do not believe that anyone
should be singled out in any way for an award, no matter how deserving they 
may be.
In reality, New Zealanders have been particularly keen on knighthoods, with 
Maori leaders especially welcoming this
form of public recognition. There is no logical reason
why knighthoods should now be singled out for abolition.
The argument that knighthoods should be abolished to raise the status of 
the Order of New Zealand is baseless. That
order was intended as a non-titular award, and modelled on the Companions 
of Honour and the Order of Merit.
Those British orders have never been regarded as being in any way inferior 
for being non-titular. The status or prestige
of any award depends on the careful choice of recipients. The Order of 
Ness, Zealand cannot be raised simply by
destroying potential rivals.
The Government is also looking at abolishing the titles Right Honourable 
and Honourable. The former involves the
issue of ending the practice of appointing senior politicians to the Privy 
Council, whose members thereby gain the
style Right Honourable.
The Privy Council, which was created 1100 years ago by King Alfred, today 
consists largely of politicians and judges.
On a population basis, there are more New Zealand members than British. As 
in Britain, the distinction is essentially
honorific, but while we retain appeal to the judicial committee of the 
Privy Council (something which no doubt will soon be under attack from the 
Government), judges from New Zealand must continue to be appointed to the council.
Because of its judicial functions it would be inappropriate to consider the 
question of Privy Council membership as
purely one of honours. Notably, all the Prime Ministers of states that 
recognise Elizabeth II as their Queen are customarily made privy counsellors, again 
except for Canada and Australia, and Australia only ended this practice very recently.
Why should we follow their example? New Zealand is independent enough to 
make its own decision.
The style of Honourable, enjoyed by members of the Executive Council, by 
judges and by former ministers (with the
approval of the Governor-General), is also threatened. Almost every country 
in the world allows its Government
ministers some title, and this is often "the Honourable." Does New Zealand 
want to be uniquely austere?
 Perhaps the Government wants to end all
 titles (whether they be Sir, Dame, Right
 Honourable, Honourable, or just plain Mr/Mrs/
Miss/Ms) and simply call everyone Comrade.
 Noel Cox is vice-chairman of the Monarchist League.

Government's next target: reshaping the voluntary sector

Colin James

Next week, Steve Maharey will launch another scheme in the Clark-Anderton 
ministry's reshaping of government: a
new arrangement with the voluntary sector.
Yawn. That sounds almost as boring as debating the constitution - earnest 
people saying earnest things to each
other. What can a "compact" with the voluntary sector say to a pocketbook 
public?
At one level, his initiative is similar to Monday's abolition of sirs and 
dames and pardons for soldiers murdered by British officers in the First World War. That 
is, it is iconic - a load of nice words.
Changing the way things are done takes time. Years can elapse between the 
cabinet-room policy decision and a
changed outcome at ground level. In the meantime, icons provide a visual 
facade. In the end, however, a government
cannot live by icons alone, any more than a priesthood can. It will be 
judged by what it does.
For the Labour Party the biggest question is how it reconfigures the 
welfare state so it can deliver social democratic-style services and security within the 
budgeting constraints imposed by membership of a globalised economy.
One way Labour has identified is to ditch the notion that politicians and 
bureaucrats at the centre have all the
answers. This may sound odd, given Annette King's and Trevor Mallard's 
hell-bent recentralisation of health and
education, reabsorbing the Health Funding Authority into the Health 
Ministry and abolishing school bulk-funding.
The previous regime contemplated a wider range of local health delivery 
mechanisms and schooling.  Those
recentralisations are partly due to the influence of the health and 
education unions on Labour and the Alliance. But in
social welfare services, the picture is different. There, professionals 
have been demanding flexibility.
And Mr Maharey wants to respond. Moreover, he has been reading books - a disturbing 
habit in a politician, in which, thankfully, few of our lot indulge. The books have been 
telling him that old-style, top-down state-centred social democracy has had, at best, 
dubious success. This is partly because the state
in the 20th century crowded out "civil society" - that part of social interaction, 
out of reach of the state and the market,
where citizens do things with, to and for each other.
Mr Maharey wants civil society blooming again. Down there in the ruck are 
people who know their communities - their
opportunities and problems and have ideas. He wants those ideas put to 
work, rebuilding social democracy at ground
level. The state will support, with money and organisational advice, but not dictate. Local 
government will have a role, too.
Mr Maharey has in mind a three-layered scheme borrowed from Canada: a set of 
high-level principles (he will next
week name the person to lead the consultation to develop this); broadbased 
agreements with individual sectors
(ranging through health, foreign aid, social services and education) 
establishing codes of practice; and new
arrangements with individual organisations.
He wants to replace the contracting system in vogue since the late 1980s, 
which he thinks has turned voluntary
agencies into lackeys, unimaginatively performing narrow tasks and with 
"relationships" that aim at more general
outcomes and give voluntary agencies more operational latitude - in other 
words, a sort of bulk-funding.
This has obvious implications for the Public Finance Act, which requires 
accountability for narrowly defined "outputs"
and which, therefore, he freely
argues, will need changing to realise his scheme. His agreements will, 
besides covering compliance costs, funding
arrangements, the law, policy implementation and consultation, also address 
new forms of accountability.
Mr Maharey calls his initiative a sea-change. He contemplates failures as 
part of finding what works - and these will at
times be politically embarrassing, especially if money goes astray or 
outcomes are worse, not better.
This sea-change is not about to break over our heads next week. It will be 
almost imperceptibly tidal, spread over
years. It might work. Or it might fall foul of a Prime Minister tough on 
budgeting and intolerant of failure. Between
books and the ballot box there is a long march.
 ColinJames@synapsis.co.nz

Food can cause 'night terrors'

100 years ago
from the files of the New Zealand Herald

In childhood the sleep is sometimes disturbed by what are called "night 
terrors." A child that has gone to bed
apparently well and for an hour or two has slept soundly, or perhaps been 
slightly restless, suddenly starts with a
piercing cry. He is found, seemingly wide awake, sitting up in bed or 
standing in the middle of the room, trembling,
screaming and looking intently at some imaginary object.
His skin is moist and his hands clutch each other or anything within 
reach; and when spoken to he does not appear
to understand. He calls for his mother or nurse, but does not know them 
when they come and often alternately clings
to and repulses them. After a time, from a few minutes to an hour or even 
longer, the child recognises those about
him and gradually falls into a sleep, from which he does not wake until morning.
These attacks may vary in frequency; they may occur every night, every few 
nights, or at longer and irregular
intervals. The conditions which cause them are sometimes easily discovered, 
but frequently no immediate cause can
be found.
As a rule, however, night terrors occur in children who are delicate and 
excitable. An attack is often caused by a
disturbance of the digestive organs, resulting from a weak digestion or 
improper food. Fright is one of the least
common causes of this disturbance.
An essential part of the treatment of this disturbance is a strict 
attention to the child's surroundings and a careful
supervision of his training to prevent any undue mental or nervous strain. 
Just as important is that his food should be
easily digested and nutritious, but not stimulating.

Petty crime packs punch

Darrel Mager wonders who wins in a documentary on shoplifting … the thieves, the shop 
owners or the security firms?

Five-Finger Discount: Shoplifting is estimated to cost each New Zealand household $400 
a year.

The nicknames come straight out of the movie Reservoir Dogs and they make 
their jobs sound oh, so glamourous.
"It offers you a wonderful lifestyle," says Mr Red.
"You can make up to $1000 a day, no problem," adds Mr Blond.
These guys are career criminals. And, while their offending isn't on the 
same level as Tarantino's fictional gun-toting
bank robbers, a pack of career shoplifters like Red and Blond can easily 
do as much real financial damage in a single day, as shown in tonight's Inside New 
Zealand documentary The Business of Shoplifting (8.30, TV3).
It's very big business with an estimated $1.5 million walking out New 
Zealand shop doors daily under the coats and in
the bags of shoplifters, who seem to range from baby-faced kids to 
silver-haired grandparents.
Each year, supermarkets and retail chains spend millions of dollars on security as they try 
to stem the flow of what is essentially 20 truckloads of unpaid goods exiting their doors 
each day.
At times the doco feels like a recruitment campaign for shoplifters as thugs brag about 
the perks of the trade (when they don't get. caught) and reveal their tricks.
At others it seems like one big advertisement for a security industry which thrives on the 
store-owners' misery.
It's an enlightening hour though as in-store security cameras take us 
inside the world of the shoplifters that statistics
reckon cost each household $400 a year through the increased prices businesses must 
charge to cover the thefts.
Welcome inside the world of a petty crime that packs a big punch.
The reasons vary for the five-finger discounts: a dare, pure impulsive 
greed, or to fuel a thriving steal-to-order business
or drug addiction.
One woman was making off with thousands of dollars worth of goods each 
week from supermarkets to on-sell cheaply to a string of corner dairies. Others grab 
expensive items like dehumidifiers or DVD players 
then simply walk out of the store - looking
innocent, as if they'd paid for it - then flog it off later at the pub or 
in boot sales.
Mischievous kids and amateur shoplifters will be able to take notes from 
the pros - who speak on camera with faces
blacked out which makes you wonder whether the documentary offers too 
much of an insight.
Others, like store detectives, will probably argue that the show will 
make honest shoppers aware of what has been
going on right under their noses, and allow them to notify staff.
Only one of the shoplifters spoken to refused to reveal the tricks of the trade.
The programme also gives an insight into the life of the lifter's 
nemeses, the store detectives, and how they go about
catching their prey.
There's Sue Collins, who has personally recovered more than $2 million in 
stolen property in her career. She's "Mrs
Average Shopper" who walks the isles pretending to be a customer.
One wonders whether this tactic will work so well for her in the future 
after having her face broadcast around the country.


The Good Oil
New cars cheaper
The cost of a new car in New Zealand has fallen by about 20 per cent over 
the last few years, says research group
Infometrics. The study found that between 1994 and 1999 New Zealand had 
some of the cheapest new cars in the
world, thanks to rising real incomes, exchange-rate appreciation and the elimination of 
import duty. New cars are still cheap compared
with other markets, but a wobbly exchange rate over the past 18 months is 
expected to soon take effect as
carmakers roll over forward exchange rates.
Musical fundraiser 
Car dealers threw their lot in behind a fund-raising day for the North Shore Music 
Council at
the HomeZone in Mairangi Bay last weekend.
The main attraction was a purpose-built four-wheel-drive track, especially 
on Sunday when
the rain came. One dealer took to the track in a
ute - with an empty coffin on the back. Some-
one said something about there "being no rest
for the wicked"  
Pick-up power.
An all-American Ford F150 pick-up passed the Good Oil on the motorway the 
other day. Big, powerful beast it is too.
But the fire-breathing model is the SW F150, rare as hen's teeth in America 
even. Auto Motor and Sport on Friday
night takes a look at the muscle-bound model,
powered by a 265kW 5.4-litre V8. The Triangle Television show also checks on 
the progress of diesel vehicles, including the Audi A6 Avant Quattro. Highlight of
the show for some will be following a spy photographer on the trail of a prototype in 
Sweden.

Avalon on the way

ONCE upon a time Toyota New Zealand guarded the launch date and details 
of its new vehicles with the ferocity of a
tiger guarding her newborn cubs.
Now Toyota has become a bit of a pussycat, offering up a clue here and 
there as to what's coming.
It's the way of the automotive industry - there is so much information 
available daily that carmakers are finding it almost
impossible to keep a lid on new products.
This is certainly the case in New Zealand since vehicle-assembly plants 
closed.
Back then carmakers could quietly assemble a new model and pretty much 
keep it under wraps. Not now, not with
every new car coming into the country completely built-up and highly 
visible.
One of the worst-kept secrets in the industry is the launch this year of 
the Toyota Avalon sedan, the biggest car in
Toyota's lineup and a popular model in the United States.
It is powered by a 3-litre, quad-cam, 24-valve V6 engine and will be 
aimed at the Holden Commodore and Ford Falcon.
Toyota New Zealand executive Alistair Davis said the large-car market now 
represented about 13 per cent of total new-car sales.
"The Avalon is significantly larger than the Camry V6 and we believe it 
will provide strong competition for both the Commodore and Falcon," he said.
Although the Avalon was designed to cater for American large-car tastes, 
Davis expects its design, quality and roomy
interior will appeal in New Zealand.
The Avalon will be built at Toyota's assembly plant at Altona, near 
Melbourne. No word on price yet but it is expected
to be competitive, especially as Toyota wants the Avalon to steal sales 
from its main rival, Ford.
- Alastair Sloane

City slicker

Korean-built and Italian-designed, Daewoo reckons it's on to a good little earner. Alastait 
Sloane reports.

Little Star: Daewoo's award-winning city car, the Matiz, is coming to New Zealand to 
flaunt its Latin looks and cost-effective charms.

THE "iz" in Matiz is pronounced not like the "iz" in "showbiz" but the 
"eece" in "fleece." Therefore do not call the
Daewoo Matiz the "Ma-tis." It is the "Ma-teece."
Daewoo wants this known, not because it is pedantic about such things, 
just that it believes the little car is so good
that its name is going to be on everyone's lips anyway.
Might as well get the car's name right first time, because Daewoo reckons 
it's fun, safe (passing new European
regulations), economical and right for the times.
The Korean-built five-door Matiz is Europe's bestselling car in the "city 
car" segment. This is for teeny-weeny cars,
those designed for an inner-city lifestyle and parking spaces hardly big 
enough to swing a cat in.
The category is popular in European cities, where many people live above 
alleys and avenues.
The Italians have especially favoured the car, partly because it was 
designed in Italy by the Ital Design Studio, the
acclaimed Giugiaro's playpen.
High-performance specialist Tickford had a hand in the engine, before the 
car was developed by Daewoo's Worthing
technical centre in Britain, using as benchmarks the Fiat Cinquecento and 
Renault Twingo.
About 140 prototypes were built and nearly two million kilometres covered 
before the production go-ahead was given.
Since its launch in 1998 the Matiz has won all sorts of international 
awards, including Best Value Small Car from the
BBC's Top Gear people.
The British gong was for a car costing L7145, or nearly $23,000, with standard items 
including power steering, central locking, driver and passenger airbags and electric front 
windows. Air-conditioning was an optional L350, or $1100, extra.
But for the New Zealand market Daewoo has thrown in air-conditioning – and priced the 
car at $15,000. How can it do that, sell the same car for $9000 less than in 
Britain?
The British Government imposes duty on imported cars and still heavily 
subsidises its car industry, hence the prices.
There is no duty on cars coming into New Zealand and new-car prices 
largely reflect market demand.
Some examples: the Rover 216Si costs $45,500 in Britain and $26,850 here. 
The Range Rover 4-litre SE costs $142,000 there and $110,000 here. Renault's standard 
Scenic costs $45,400 there and $30,990 here. The Mitsubishi Makinen Evo IV costs 
$99,500 there and $76,000 here. The Nissan GTR  Skyline costs $163,000 there and 
about $100,000 here.
Daewoo says the Italian influence is reflected in the lines of the Matiz, 
and its interior provides generous head and
shoulder room. The rear seats can be folded forward for extra room.
The Matiz is powered by a three-cylinder engine, delivering 37.5kW at 
5900 rpm and 68.6Nm of torque at 4600 rpm,
and mated to a five-speed manual gearbox.
Daewoo claims fuel consumption from the
35-litre plastic tank is 6.1 litres for every 100km in the city and 4.4 
litres on the open road.
 "We expect the Matiz to become one of the most cost-effective cars to 
own and operate in New Zealand," said Daewoo's chief executive, Mark Vidak.
 "This will result from the combination of a
 low price, low fuel consumption and the savings
 resulting from Total Care, the company's service package."
Ride comfort and handling is said to be good for the class, thanks to independent 
suspension all round. Brakes are discs in the front and drums in the rear.
Daewoo's Total Care package is one of its strengths, offering $2000 of free servicing for 
three years or 100,000km. This is separate from the three-year/100,000km 
manufacturer's warrant. Three years of Roadside Assist through the Automobile 
Association is also included.

Choice for the spoilt

Fashion and beauty editor Fiona Hawtin finds two new beauty retreats, one downtown, 
the other a ferry-ride away.

Women's Rights: Pampering includes a pedicure at Spa de Serville (left) and a room with 
a view (above) at Trillium Lodge at Great Barrier Island.

UNTIL QUITE recently the only way to experience a day or destination spa 
in New Zealand was to read about them in
international glossies. And after jealously reading a beauty editor's 
account of endless pampering, we made do with a
bubble bath and a DIY face mask in the bathroom.
Paul Serville wanted better for the 29,000 Servilles clients. It occurred 
to the hairdresser and founder of the Servilles
salons (including the latest one in Albany) that a one-stop beauty shop 
was needed in Auckland. Why should you (ie his wife Jacci) have to go to one place for a 
leg wax; go elsewhere  for 
a pedicure and manicure and somewhere else
again for a facial, he wondered.
So he worked on the concept, inspired by some he'd seen on a spa trip 
through the United States two years ago.
Spa de Serville, with 18 dedicated spa staff and 12 hairdressers, opened yesterday at 
Princes Wharf.
"We're in the hair and entertainment business now. We want clients to 
feel like they're a whole new person when they
leave," says the non-stop hairdresser He has just returned from 
conducting a seminar and hair show in Italy for 1000
hairdressers.
At Spa de Serville, clients get the whole shebang from hair and makeup to 
all manner of massages, electrolysis, hydrotherapy, herbal wraps and facials.
Treatments like Expresso take 45 minutes for a quickie facial or can last 
seven hours with the divine-sounding Spa de
Serville C'est la Vie. This consists of a bath, followed by a ginseng 
herbal preparation and massage, body wrap and
facial before lunch from the a la carte menu.
The pampering continues with a manicure, pedicure, paraffin masque and 
hair and makeup styling. Just like the ones
you'd read about.
Men also have their own menu of treatments to indulge in, be it a back wax 
or the six-hour Millennium Man treatment
Serville employed the New York designer known simply as Clodagh to oversee 
the interiors. "In New York, if you say
Clodagh designed the spa, people know. She's just finished designing Robert 
Redford's house."
While the salon is ultra-modern, the spa's feeling is Pasifika Resort, 
featuring a sandblasted door, a flax-covered wall
at the entrance where you take your shoes off, before walking down the 
softly lit cave with the words "meditate,"
"calm" and "heal" chiselled into the concrete walls.
If leaving the real world behind sounds too much like cold turkey, the view 
of the harbour from balcony and quiet
rooms give a hit of frantic ferry activity.
For women really wanting to leave the city behind, Mary Haigh has created 
what she calls a pampered women's retreat" at Trillium Lodge on Great Barrier Island. 
Groups of between eight and 12 women can travel to the lodge on Friday 
nights for a weekend of contemplation, high
action or a combination of both. Haigh and her husband, designed, built, 
decorated and now run the place themselves.
"It's really just a chance for people to completely detach from 
distractions in the city in complete comfort. A lot of
women feel stress and burnout. They can do something or they can do 
nothing," she says. "I guess I'm the good
fairy. I want to wave the wand for them."
Beauty therapy or Thai massage are available. The island also offers golf, horse treks and 
tramps. Haigh can also organise a walk to the vineyards or a trip to the hot pools with a 
bottle of champagne to sup.
For more information phone Trillium Lodge (09) 429 0454; Spa de Serville 
(09) 309 9086.

Hair that's going green

MOTHER used to say "eat your greens." Staff at Stephen Marr Hair say 
"wear your greens." The ultra-cool Ponsonby
Rd salon can now rustle up a smoothie for parched hair as quick as they 
can serve a jolt of espresso. You can drink the coffee.
To help launch the retail line Mop (stands for Modern Organic Products), 
the salon has four organic smoothies on the
menu. Choose from the hydrating, reconstructing, soothing or stimulating 
versions.
Lucy Vincent Marr, co-owner of the salon along with husband Stephen, says 
the organics business is becoming modern and functional.
"Once, the people who went in for it were perceived as muesli-coloured sweater-wearers 
and quite alternative," she says, throwing a moisture-giving avocado into the blender. 
(The sweater she's wearing is from Karen Walker.) She's using the hydrating recipe and 
will add some Mop Glisten and patchouli essential oil to the concoction.
Bananas, eggs and ginger also lie on the smoothie bar ready to be whizzed 
into a protein or moisture shake for the
hair. Perhaps the most edible is the soothing smoothie. Take some Mop 
Extreme Protein, add half a cucumber, four
drops of jojoba oil, a sprig of mint leaves, four drops of chamomile oil 
and blend with a quarter cup of yoghurt.
Vincent Marr says smoothies are a great way to pamper yourself coming 
into winter and an excellent pick-me-up for hair worn out by summer.
Eat here or take away? You can always follow up the appetiser at home with the Mixed 
Greens shampoo, containing a mixture of cucumber, artichoke and watercress, tossed in 
certified organic parsley and alfalfa. Dessert could be the Extreme Moisture treatment 
with organic banana and apple juice.
- Fiona Hawtin

Blended Hair: Lucy Vincent Marr (right) mixes and applies an organic smoothie for the 
hair.

The Beauty Files

Fiona Hawtin
Groom zoom

Not so long ago, the only thing men knew about skincare was that their 
women did a lot of it. Men would shuffle off to
the bathroom for a quick shave and shower with their soap-on-a-rope. That 
was about it. Now, they've got grooming – it sounds more blokey than skincare. And 
what a lot of stuff to choose from. Here are some of the latest for them to include in the 
cram in the bathroom cupboard.
Item: Rapport After Shave Moisturiser.
Claim: A special emollient formula to help soothe, moisturise and protect 
skin after shaving. It calms irritation and
relieves the drying effects of shaving. Contains collagen, a natural 
protein that softens and moisturises the skin.
Pros: Gorgeous frosted glass bottle with serviceable pump dispenser. The 
fluid is non-greasy and sinks quickly into
the skin.
Cons: Women could develop a case of bottle-envy.
Cost: $29.95 for 50ml from selected department stores and pharmacies.
Item:  Yves Saint Laurent Body Kouros Eau de Toilette.
Claim. A bold fragrance for the modern man who is at ease with his 
sexuality. He takes care of his body and likes
provoking and playing on his sexy, sensual and very masculine image. The 
fragrance combines primal eucalyptus,
cedar, aromatic mace and relaxing camphor wood.
Pros: Very much the scent of a man for one who doesn't want to smell 
remotely like a flower or citrus. And you don't
smell it coming from 5m away - a definite boon if you're riding in the same 
lift.
Cons: The Kouros man has godlike proportions. Hard to live up to.
Cost: $89 for 50ml from selected department stores and pharmacies.
Item: Logan Yachting Lip Fast.
Claim.. Logan make yachting and casual clothing. Now they do "personal care 
products" for men. The Lip Fast has
an SPF30 and protects lips from sunburn, cracking and dryness in 
all-weather conditions. Cons: almond oil for
protection and the antiseptic properties of peppermint.
Pros: What timing. Even on dry land, this yachty-oriented grooming range of 
products has instant sex appeal post
America's Cup. A pair of boat shoes and a tube of Logan Lip Fast makes it 
look like he's spent the day grinding. Oh, and it moisturises nicely.
Cons: Don't much care for the peppermint tingle.
Cost. $29 for 15g from Outdoor Heritage stores and DFS Galleria.

Item: King Of Shaves Alphagel DDS Shaving Gel.
Claim: This shaving gel significantly reduces razor burn and skin 
irritation. The low-foam formula is ideal for sensitive
skin. Contains vitamin E, teatree oil and aloe to nourish and care for the skin.
Pros: Because it's not a mentholated gel it's kinder on sensitive skin. Feels nice and 
allows the razor to glide over the skin.
Cons: Thought big foam was part of the shaving experience.
Cost: $9.95 for 175ml from selected supermarkets and pharmacies.
Item: Gillette Series Arctic Ice After Shave Gel.
Claim. Nourishes, invigorates and restores skin after shaving. Contains vitamin e to 
soothe skin. Is scented with the Arctic Ice fragrance, which features oakmoss, warm 
woods, geranium, apple, pineapple and basil.
Pros: No sting with this one. Cools just as you'd imagine a blast of Arctic ice would be 
and leaves a pleasant whiff of fragrance behind. Very reasonable.
Cons. Packaging is unadventurous.
Cost: $10.85 for 100ml from selected supermarkets and pharmacies.

Grate expectations

Cheese Wizz: Juliet Harbutt – one sniff and she can recite the family tree of a cheese.

JULIET HARBUTT is devoted to cheese. She can heap endless accolades on 
small white slabs of the stuff. If
a cheese deserves to be placed on a pedestal, then
Harbutt is going to work hard to get it there. The peripatetic Harbutt has touched down in 
New Zealand to conduct the seventh annual cheese awards today, plus promote her new 
book on the subject called, not surprisingly, Cheese.
Harbutt believes that cheese should be as revered as wine. Just like a wine 
buff, she can tell you when and where a
cheese was made by its particular taste and smell. She knows whether the 
cow/goat/sheep was eating dried leaves
from hedgerows, flowering thyme, or gentians growing on high alpine 
pastures, before milking time.
Her vast knowledge has been acquired over many years of hard work. She has 
earned her "highly educated tastebuds."
Her energetic devotion to the cause has led to a career as a London-based 
cheese consultant, which means
tirelessly talking and writing about all sorts of cheeses.
Since she started the cheese awards in this country great changes have 
taken place. In the beginning, there
were only 13 cheesemakers. Now there are nearly 30 - 15 of them small 
producers. Harbutt believes that the
flourishing domestic market has been encouraged by these national awards, 
which survived competition from the
Dairy Board's own awards for two years. Harbutt also runs Britain's cheese awards.
"I want to encourage people  like chefs and people in
 the catering trade in particular to have it [her book] because it demystifies cheese - just 
like you can do with
 wine. It lays the foundation for people to understand
 what cheese is all about. It's like defining a
and pinot and giving wonderful examples."
The problem with New Zealand cheese is its lack of regionality, she says. 
Every animal, be it cow, sheep or goat,
munches on the same fodder. 
"Clover is great - but we could have variety," she says.
Harbutt eats cheese once or twice a day, frequently attacking it with a 
knife and fork.
"I might have it for lunch or dinner," she says. "I'm a bit like Mrs Clicquot and her 
champagne - I can't think of any time when it's not a good idea."  
Her features show no sign of overdosing on these potentially fattening 
substances. But ... "I don't eat a lot of meat,
though I wouldn't describe myself as a vegetarian. How could anyone give up 
bacon - is that possible? Or sausages? I like cured meats."
The next step for New Zealand cheesemakers, she says, is to increase cheese production 
and consumption. She can see 
cheese reigning supreme in delicatessens
and specialty shops in future, rather than in supermarkets. 
"Supermarkets have dominated the market. They have not done it as well as 
they could and they have not done well
by small cheesemakers. People want to buy cheese from someone who knows 
what they are doing."
She sees a strong future for our cheeses in South-east Asia, where cheese 
is still a novelty, rather like lemon grass
and sundried tomatoes once were here. When Kapiti's Kikorangi arrived in 
Japan, bearing a supreme champion medal
from the New Zealand Cheese Awards, there was an 84 per cent increase in 
sales.
'They find cheese new and exciting because they don't have their own."

MORSELS
Jonny Cortizo
AUCKLAND
WINE AND TARTS
 Heron's Flight Vineyard, Matakana and German restaurant Happyman's Elves 
in Orewa are holding what  sound like
one of the most interesting festivals this Easter. Neuer Weine is the juice from freshly 
picked vines that slowly ferments over time 
into alcohol. The Alsatian and German
tradition is to serve this wine with onion tart and walnut bread.
Throughout the school holidays and Easter period, Heron's Flight will be 
hosting different events each day, such as
Easter egg decorating, egg rolling, and music in the vineyard on April 24, 
as well as the neuer wine itself. Sounds like
fun - the kids can chase eggs while I enjoy my fermenting juice.
For more details contact Heron's Flight Vineyard on (09) 422 7915 or 
Happyman's Elves Restaurant on (09) 4267624.
LATEST LATTE
If you've been to a cafe or wine bar in California lately then you'll know 
what we're talking about: a chai latte. It's all the
rage there, apparently - well, according to the people who are now 
producing Pacific Chai in Auckland.
Chai is spiced milk tea from India and it will be on the blackboard menu at 
a coffee bar near you soon. Cathy
Lockhead, marketing director of Pacific Chai, says you can try it at 
Roasted Addiqtion in Kingsland, Strawberry Alarm Clock in Parnell, Alleluya and K 
Sera Delicatessen in Karangahape Rd.
 "We spent six months testing recipes on friends before we settled on this one," she says.
"It's something new and happening."
American versions can be had at Borders and Starbucks, too.
IN CONCERT
The Stamford Plaza is introducing a weekly Maori concert and feast each 
Thursday at 6.30 pm from April 20. An hour-long performance by the Pounamu Maori 
Cultural Group in the Stamford Ballroom will be followed by a dinner with
Canterbury lamb, roast chicken and pork from a special smoking oven, 
salads, pavlova and bread and butter pudding.
The price of $49 includes show and dinner. A cash bar will be available in 
the ballroom. Also at the Stamford is the latest in their series of winemaker 
dinners, this time with John Hancock, winemaker
for Trinity Hill Winery, Hawkes Bay on Sunday, May 7. The five-course dinner with 
wine matches is $75, excellent value when considering the quality of the wines on offer.
For more details and reservations for either event, contact Maria Grangel on (09) 309 
8888 or e-mail: mariagrangel@spak.stamford.com.au
MUSSEL-BOUND PERFORMANCE
The Occidental Belgian Beer Cafe seems to have got its mix of moules-frites 
and tap beer right. At the Vulcan Lane
europub's first birthday bash recently, governor Trevor Ready said 1000 
hectolitres of Stella Artois, Hoegaarden and
Leffe beer had been poured to wash down the 34 tonnes of mussels, 13 tonnes 
of chips and 2200 litres of made-on-the-premises mayonnaise. "Our best week, before the 
America's Cup final, we served 970kg of mussels," said the beaming Ready, busy 
planning an opening in Christchurch for later in the year. More mussels on (09) 300 
6226.
OPENINGS AND RE-OPENINGS
Due to open later this month is the George in Parnell Rise on the site of 
the former Fat Ladies' Arms. The building
has undergone a total renovation outside, and the interior has been gutted 
and refurbished. The emphasis will be on
providing a complete dining experience. An outside courtyard area will be 
used on sunny days. Could this be the key
venue Parnell has needed for so long to kickstart a revival?
Also re-opening this month after yet another facelift is the Staircase on K 
Rd. With new owners and a new interior, maybe this new version of the 'Case will be 
around for a while. Could this be the key venue K Rd has needed for so long?
Jonny Cortizo, thewineguy@xtra.co.nz

Whey to go

Etc… Maggie Blake

Cultured yet cheesy is one way to describe the work these people do.

What About Me! Ina Stevens presents one of her Verona Farm cheeses while a jersey 
friend who provided the milk licks for attention.

Specialist: Boris Samujh, with his damau organic cheeses, taught himself cheese-making 
and now his Capric Cheese factory near Miranda is thriving.

NOT ALL our cheese is made by the dairy industry's Big Boys. In fact, 
there are 15 small producers dotted around
the country, quietly making their own cheese in fairly out-of-the-way 
places.
Verona Farm is one such place. To get there, you must drive to Waitoki, 
north of Auckland. You then turn down a
long drive, lined with ageing macrocarpa trees. Go past the farmhouse, a 
hay barn, two non-barking dogs in kennels
and a cat perched on a ladder. And there, in a former cowshed, its doors 
silvered with age, you will find a genuine,
hard-working, cheese-making business.
Although the dairy farm that encompasses this mini cheese factory has a 
slightly dilapidated air, the factory itself is
squeaky clean. In the cheese-making room, workers wear white gumboots, 
surgical gloves and "shower caps." In an
adjoining room, the cheese is stowed in boxes, ready to be stored in the coolroom.
On this particular morning, the woman who started this cottage industry 
in the cowshed seven years ago is busy
cutting cardboard to sit tidily on the coolroom floor. Her name is Ina 
Stevens. She took over the biodynamic dairy farm
from her parents and has kept it going for several decades.
When the price dropped for milk she started making cheese with the 
organic milk produced by her own herd of jersey
cows. These were desperate times for Stevens and her sister Daphne.
But she started experimenting with yoghurt and worked her way up. 
Sour cream, quark, butter, cottage cheese,
feta and then cheddar. She has made them all. It has always been hard 
work and she has never made much money.
"I was living to work - not working to live," she says.
Then last year, Murray Macdonald, a neighbouring organic farmer, stepped 
into the picture. He came to help out when Ina fell ill with a serious bout of flu. And he 
stayed on, lifting cheese production from 400 to 600 litres to 1400 litres a week.
Now he has further plans for Verona Farm. He wants to turn the mini cheese
factory into something bigger adding organic milk from his own herd of jersey cows later 
this year.
There is no mystery to cheese-making as far as he is concerned.
"I've always had an interest in cheese," says Macdonald, removing his 
hygiene hat and tossing his thick, grey hair.
"And it's not hard."
He gets up at 4 am daily to milk his own cows, then drives to the cheese 
factory. He was making butter at 5 am, sour
cream the day before. By 10 am he will be at work at another job - doing 
something completely different. His busy
Albany-based business, the RC Car Shop, imports and distributes radio-controlled cars.
Macdonald's packed life, which includes breeding pedigree jersey cows and 
judging at shows, is in keeping with his philosophy.
"You only live once in this lifetime," he says.
Verona Farm products now appear in New World supermarkets, most Foodtowns
and Woolworths, plus some health food shops.
Stevens has never courted awards but this year Macdonald is keen to give 
the competition a go in the New Zealand
Cheese Awards, entering Verona Farm cottage and yoghurt cheeses, plus feta. 
He is particularly proud of the fact
that these cheeses are genetic-modification-free and totally organic, with 
no artificial fertilisers, fungicides, pesticides
or herbicides affecting the milk.
 "They are not just healthier than most other cheeses, they are tastier," 
he says. "There is nothing in there except natural milks and cultures."
Another small cheesemaker is Boris Samujh, who went into partnership to 
form Capric Cheese near Miranda two years ago.
Fiji-born Samujh taught maths in New Zealand secondary schools for 20 years
before taking the plunge into cheese. The new direction, he says, is not as 
strange as it looks.
 "We like to break barriers," he explains.
 This cheese factory now takes milk produced by the 400 goats on his 
Hamilton farm. Samujh became a goat farmer a number of years ago when his baby 
daughter (now a teenager) had an allergic reaction to cows' milk.
"It slowly grew into something that there is a reasonable demand for," he says.
"Over the years we came across a lot of individual families we have been 
able to help, providing them with a source of
milk that infants have been able to tolerate. And that has been very 
satisfying from a personal point of view."
The cheese factory operated for 16 years as Miranda Valley Cheese. As 
Capric Cheese, it makes cheeses from both
organic cows' milk and goats' milk. Capric's three workers make samsoe 
gouda, taffle and damau from the cows' milk
and feta, edam and blue cheese from goats' milk. Capric has
done well at the cheese awards in past years and Samujh hopes that its 
products will shine even more brightly this year.
He sees a positive future for his small factory.
"At heart I'm an entrepreneur and I love doing what I'm doing," he says. 
"It has a lot of potential and a lot of openings are there. And a lot of 
hard work and exploration lie ahead."
Samujh, who has taught himself how to make cheese, enjoys the process.
"I like seeing the finished product  of something you are involved with," 
he says.
"We farm the land, we produce the milk and then we are able to turn it into 
a product that someone goes and buys.
And that's a very fine experience in itself."
He enjoys sampling the product, too even before it matures into proper 
cheese.
"There is nothing like fresh curd when you are doing the manufacturing. 
During the break there is always fresh curd to
eat and that is absolutely beautiful."
Capric cheeses can be found at Ceres Enterprises wholefoods shop and 
Harvest Wholefoods in Auckland and in some Foodtown  supermarkets.

Say Cheese

How the first person got from milk to cheese is a mystery that Pam Wade is prepared to 
solve.

 FERMENTED curd. Hasn't got quite the same ring as cheddar, brie or gorgonzola, has 
it? And yet, that's what, 
cheese is: the solids of sour milk,  mixed with the gastric juices of a 
calf, pressed, aged and often deliberately
contaminated with mould spores. Suddenly that cheeseboard isn't quite so 
appealing any more, is it? Perhaps you'll
just have the grapes this time.
What boggles my mind, however, isn't the thought of people (and mice) 
through the centuries and across the world
making this stuff a staple of their diet, to the extent that there are now 
more than 2000 varieties. What's really hard to
grasp is why anyone developed it in the first place.
I can imagine some horny-handed peasant, hundreds of years ago, stumbling 
through the door of his hovel, tired and
thirsty after a long, hot day scything corn, snatching up the jug of milk 
that has been standing there since morning
and having a deep swig of what turns out, in the meantime, to have become 
yoghurt.
I can even picture him, after spraying the greater part over the dog, 
sucking his teeth thoughtfully and savouring the
aftertaste: but how he then makes the leap of imagination to think of 
straining it, mixing in the contents of a calf's
fourth stomach, for goodness' sake, squashing it and leaving it to 
consolidate for a while, is beyond me.
But then, much of what we eat and drink is a testament to mankind's 
inspiration and recklessness. Have you ever
wondered who first dared to eat a mushroom? Or how many adventurous souls 
met untimely and unpleasant deaths
discovering that some fungi are spectacularly poisonous? Even that pig-herd 
in the Perigord, observing his animal's
enthusiasm when rooting up truffles, was taking a risk in having a nibble 
himself: not everything a pig can eat would sit comfortably in the
human stomach.
Consider leafy plants, and imagine the long trail of experiments that led 
to the discoveries  that, with silverbeet, the
whole plant is nutritious; but with rhubarb, oops! the leaf is poisonous - 
though the stalk is edible and tasty, when cooked and amply sugared.
In the case of tobacco, however, the  stalk should be discarded and the 
leaf dried; rolled., and SMOKED. How was
that last one happened  upon? By some ancient Mayan, probably, caught 
downwind of a brush-fire and noting that a
few good lungfuls of the smoke made him much better able to cope with his 
frustrations in domesticating the dog.
Drinks are less straightforward. Whatever possessed that Chinese fellow, 
more than 2000 years ago, when pruning
the tips of his camellia bush one day, to think of drying them and infusing 
them in boiling water, to make what would
become the essential lubricant of British life?
And while it's easy to believe that monks had plenty of time on their hands 
for abstract thought, however did they
come up with combining vine catkins and roasted germinated cereal, sugar 
and water, to make beer? And, having
made it, persuaded anyone to persevere beyond that first bitter mouthful?
It's one thing to pluck, say, a luscious looking fruit from a tree and have 
an experimental nibble; but quite another to
venture the first - often unappetising - taste of some dubious concoction, 
particularly when you're aware of the
provenance of its ingredients. And it just goes to show what a bravely 
adventurous and ingenious species we are.
Because there you are, leafing through your newspaper and thinking that 
you're tucking into a nice breakfast of boiled
egg, toast and marmalade, and coffee; whereas actually you're spooning up 
the unfertilised ovum of a bird, sprinkled
with the residue of evaporated seawater, followed by powdered grass-seed 
mixed with water and microscopic fungi,
which has been allowed to ferment, then heated till hard on the outside, 
sawn into sections and scorched on both
sides before being spread with solidified fat and the minced rind of a 
bitter fruit stewed with bamboo juice; the whole lot washed down with an infusion of 
ground-up burnt beans with a splash of secretion from the mammary gland of a
bovine quadruped stirred in. Enjoy!

Top Tart

Food		Julie Biuso

Cooking with cheese is fun when you get help from a top hotel chef.

Just Right: Roma Tomato Tart brings together the titillating tastes of tomato, chilli and 
cheese.

Welcome Change: David Fryer's skills put his hotel a cut above the rest.

Sweet and Sour: A caper dressing balances the sweet peppers in Mozzarella and Roasted 
Pepper Salad.

ONE OF THE most "just right" dishes I have eaten in a long time is this tomato and 
cheese tart. I was sitting in the Jarrah Restaurant in the Quay West Hotel in Melbourne 
contemplating the menu. Would it be the grilled scampi on a prawn risotto with reggiano, 
the crispy skin blue-eye cod fillets, crushed kipfler potatoes and citrus butter sauce, or
the warm roma tomato tart, Yarra valley goat's cheese and chilli jam? I opted for the tart.
It was a darling of a tart, set in the centre of the plate, topped with a soft goat's cheese 
which had been warmed until it was just softening, and a tangle of salad greens. The 
chilli jam had just the right bite to counter the sweetness of the tomatoes. 
Better still, the pastry had been cooked until it was crisp (don't you hate soggy pastry?).
There was nothing for it but to ask the chef for the recipe. David Fryer, a New Zealander, 
has just been appointed executive chef of the recently opened restaurant. He spent several 
years cooking in London, most notably for Anton Mosiman, and around Australia, before 
making Melbourne his home.
A downside to staying in most hotels is the lack of fresh air - the constant buzz of air 
conditioning drives me crazy - and the fact that every meal, apart from ordering in-room 
service, has to be eaten out.
Trips to produce markets, and Melbourne has several excellent food markets, 
leave good cooks frustrated. All the
fresh ingredients say "Buy me, cook me." Sadly, in most hotels (except this 
one) that's not an option. Here's Fryer's magnificent tomato tart recipe.

Roma Tomato Tart with Yarra Valley Goat's Cheese and Tomato Chilli Jam 
(Makes 6)
6 x 10cm diameter puff pastry bases with 1cm lip 
1 egg yolk, tightly beaten with a pinch of salt 
6 to 12 ripe roma tomatoes, peeled 
Castor sugar 
Salt, freshly ground black pepper 
Chilli jam 
6 x 30g pieces of Yarra Valley goats cheese 
200g fine mesclun lettuce dressed with vinaigrette 
Extra-virgin olive oil
Place all the pastry bases on a non-stick tray and brush the lips with egg 
yolk. Cut the tomatoes into four
lengthwise, put into a small bowl and season with castor sugar, salt and 
cracked black pepper and arrange neatly in
the pastry bases. 
I find the best way to deal with the pastry is to use pre-rolled puff pastry sheets. Cut out 
12 rounds 10cm wide, use six of them for the bases, then cut a lip out of the other six. Do 
this with a small pastry cutter, approximately 7cm in
diameter. Brush the pastry bases with beaten egg yolk and stick the cut-out 
lips of the other pastry rounds on top, so
that you are building up the sides of the pastry.
I tried the tarts with Kapiti's Chevre Tihi, which was a little on the firm 
side, and Couturier goat cheese, which was
delicious but too soft (both are available in supermarkets). Next time I'll try them with the 
new Canaan Chevre from Parkerfield.
Cook for eight minutes in an oven preheated to 210 deg C (or until 
browned and crisp). Remove from oven, spoon a
tablespoon of chilli jam on top of the tomatoes in each tart, then top with 
goat's cheese. Put the tarts in the oven for
two minutes, or until the cheese has started to soften.
Remove from the oven and slide onto serving plates. Place dressed mesclun on top, now 
drizzle a little extra-virgin olive oil around the plate. Serve immediately.
Any mix of baby salad leaves can be used on top of the tarts. Toss them with extra-virgin 
olive oil, salt, black pepper and a hint of garlic and mustard.
Chilli Jam
500g roma tomatoes, peeled and chopped 250g (2 medium) chopped red onions 
200g raw sugar 200ml white vinegar
Small knob peeled ginger, finely grated 100ml sweet chilli sauce 1 cup red wine vinegar
Put all the ingredients in a saucepan. Heat gently until the sugar has 
dissolved then bring to a boil. Cook gently for
one to two hours, until reduced to a jam consistency; stir frequently 
towards the end of cooking, and pretty well continuously for the last five minutes. Cool 
and use as required. Keeps up to three weeks in the refrigerator.
Fresh Mozzarella and Roasted Red Pepper Salad    (Serves 4 to 6)
Red peppers are at their most plentiful in late summer. They're cheaper 
then, too. If they've been grown outdoors
they'll be amazingly sweet and may even have a sneaky hot bite. I know 
all this. But it doesn't stop me using them
at other times of the year. This dish of fresh milky bocconcini (little 
"bites" of mozzarella) with strips of sweet roasted
peppers, is contrasted with a sweet and sour dressing of capers and 
balsamic vinegar. Serve it for a light weekend
lunch platter with a loaf of crusty bread.
2 large red peppers 6 small balls fresh bocconcini mozzarella in whey, 
drained and dried Several small leaves fresh basil, torn into small pieces 1 Tbs balsamic 
vinegar 1/4tsp Maldon sea salt Freshly ground black pepper to taste 1 clove garlic, 
crushed 2 Tbs capers, drained 4 Tbs extra-virgin olive oil
Put the peppers on an oven rack in an oven preheated to 210 deg C. 
Cook, turning occasionally with tongs, for
about 20 minutes , or until they are blistered and charred. Transfer to 
a board and when cool, peel off the skins and
slip out the cores and seeds. Slice the peppers thinly then set aside 
with the juices.
Slice the bocconcini and arrange on a serving platter with the prepared 
peppers. Scatter over the basil leaves.
In a bowl, blend the vinegar, salt, pepper, garlic, capers and oil. Mix 
in any reserved pepper juices. Pour over the
bocconcini and peppers, toss gently, and serve immediately.
Sizzling Haloumi (Serves 2-3)
Haloumi is a salty sheep's milk cheese (sometimes spelled haloumy). In 
Cyprus it is flavoured with dried mint and in
the Lebanon with black cumin seed. It's available from specialist food 
stores. A local version will soon be available.
250g haloumi cheese Butter 1 lemon
Cut the cheese into 5mm slices and dry with absorbent kitchen paper. Heat 
a non-stick frying pan over a medium
heat and drop in a knob of butter. Put in the cheese and fry until 
lightly golden, then turn over. Squeeze a little lemon
juice over the cheese and serve immediately with bread and extra lemon.
If you like, the cheese can be cooked and served in small single-serve 
cast-iron dishes. The cast iron holds its heat,
helping to keep the cheese warm and supple. Followed by a tomato or 
rocket salad, it makes a simple but delicious
two-minute meal.
Recipe from Take A Vine-ripened Tomato, by Julie Biuso, published by New 
Holland, $34.95
 Julie Biuso flew Qantas to Melbourne to attend the Melbourne Master 
Class (further details in coming weeks).

Perhaps an e-mail habit would fix this one

Dear Sharon
Q.  I fancy the postie. I think it's to do with the fact that I'm home alone during the  day
and the arrival of the mail has become a major moment in my life. For a while there, the 
mail was enough - the anticipation, the delivery, the opening of the envelopes and 
packages, if there were any. But lately I'm less interested in the post than in the guy
who delivers it. He's tanned and toned and the way he leans down from his bike to pop 
the letters in just  makes my heart race. I know this seems silly, Sharon, but I'm on
the brink of trying to chat him up.Guidance please!
Mail Watcher, Western Springs.
Good Lord, Mail (or should that
Male?) Watcher. What we appear
to have here is a dangerously  
advanced case of cabin fever. Get out of the cabin a bit more and the fever might reduce, 
especially if you get out in the mornings when the mail is
delivered. And stop spending so much time at the front of the house, 
peeping out the window like a pervert. Otherwise
you're probably heading for serious embarrassment, a harassment charge or 
heartbreak when the Post Office
changes posties.
Q. My son has reached the dizzying age of 18 and decided he wants to go 
flatting. His father and I have no problem
with that proposition, though there is a danger the peace and quiet might 
kill us. The problem we have is that our boy
seems to have no thought as to how he's going to finance himself into the 
flat. In fact, we have the growing suspicion
that he thinks we're going to fund him into life without Mum and Dad. How 
can we disabuse him of this without
disabusing him of the idea of leaving home?
I Wish, St Heliers.
You might find the phrase "get a job" a useful one at this stage of your 
parenting career. Also the concept of the
either/or situation might be a useful one to explain to your keen-to-fly 
offspring - as in "either get some income or you
won't be able to pay the rent." Eighteen is a difficult age in boys, who 
have trouble holding more than one idea in
place at any time. Try to get his attention and explain to him 
sensitively the relationship between earning money and
spending it, offer to help with advice and maybe even hold out the 
promise of a loan once he's got a practical plan in place.
Q. My best friend is a sloppy drunk whose big heart gets even bigger when 
he's had too many, as he always has by
five o'clock on any given  evening. It used to be nine o'clock, then it 
moved to eight and seven and six, as his intake
increased. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, but the way he's going I'm 
going to have to get up early to catch him
sober enough for a sensible conversation. Should I tell him I think he's 
got a problem and risk him turning into one of
those non-drinking bores so many of my other friends have become?
Bill, Thames.
I know what you mean by non-drinking bores, Bill, but better a 
non-drinking bore than a friend dying of liver failure. If
the increasing grip the grog has on him concerns you, then you should 
talk to him about your worries, though he may
not necessarily appreciate hearing what you have to say. But if you are 
going to talk, don't pull any punches. Give it
to him straight, no mixer.
Sharon loves to give advice. Contact her at: Dear Sharon, Features Department, New 
Zealand Herald, PO Box 32, Auckland 1, or fax (09) 373 6430, or e-mail 
viva@herald.co.nz 

The ALE FILE
Cameron Williamson

Hop , sip and a jump away from greatness

THE FIRST tastes on the road to finding New Zealand's best beers are being 
swallowed tomorrow in Nelson. The title
of the four-day competition is a bit of a mouthful too - the New Zealand 
Hop Marketing Board International Beer
Awards - but success in this second annual event will really put New 
Zealand brewing on the world map.
International judges have come from Australia, Northern Europe, the United 
States and Scotland.
Their test is to find the best beers among the 220 entries from a wildly 
disparate list of breweries including New
Zealand's two industrial brewers, DB and Lion, the country's smallest 
brewery, Lighthouse in Nelson, and one of
Austria's largest, Zwettler. Other entries have come from India, Scotland, 
Namibia, Turkey, the US, Tonga, Vanuatu and Norfolk Island.
Organiser Colin Harrison says the
event has grown more than 10 per cent from last year's 180.
"The variety of beers being brewed is increasing dramatically. The 
innovation is coming from well-established
breweries and micro-breweries because more New Zealanders now understand 
the subtleties of the brewer's art."
Harrison says the awards  have drawn international attention from brewers 
who want to be associated with New
Zealand's image as a country with a pure environment producing high-quality, 
cutting-edge hops.
The judging panel is led by Australian Doug Donelan of the Malt Shovel 
Brewery in Camperdown, Sydney, Viva's wine
columnist Paul White, an American brewer and an American yeast expert, and 
includes 10 other brewers and commentators.
The panel will blind-taste beers in 28 categories within four broad sections.
Entries have been received from interesting quarters: the newish
Founders Brewery in Nelson which produces the county's first organically 
certified beers. Black Robin Brewery 2000
on the Chatham Islands has entered the first brew of the millennium and 
Canterbury's Milkshed Brewery has entered
some of the beers produced in the former cowshed - Udder Gold Lager and 
Dead Daisy Extra Strength Dark Ale among them.
Last year's supreme champion, Luke Nicholas, appears this year on the 
judging panel, and many of last year's medal
winners, such as Shakespeare Tavern brewer Barry Newman (who took home 
seven medals) will be back.
But some of the best will stay away. Emerson's of Dunedin, one of last 
year's class acts, will stay away and
Auckland brewer Keith Galbraith will not be, attending. Galbraith says: 
"After seeing the tasting notes from last year I have no faith that the judges understand 
what they're judging."
- cameron @ realbeer.co.nz

So what should we want from a lump of cheese and a swig of wine?

Wine		Paul White

LIKE ANY great marriage, the partners should either support one another cooperatively 
or provide a complementary contrast. The goal is to make the whole better than the parts. 
It really comes down to finding harmony within the 
aromas, flavours and textures of both, while
eliminating any potential clashes.
Cheese, like wine, has a broad band of aromas and flavours; from fairly 
bland to about as stinky and anti-social as
anyone would want to suffer.
Textures range widely between light, fluffy, fat, oily, gooey, gluey, 
dry, crumbly and rock hard. When other factors like
saltiness, acidity, maturity and manufacturer's style are added in, 
suddenly individual differences make a cheese as
distinct as a wine. The game becomes one-on-one.
 Wine for its part steps in to either play off or balance out these 
cheesy characteristics. Acidity is fundamentally
important in cutting through milk fat as it coats the mouth. But wine 
also has the capability to soothe and coat as well.
Sweet wine is particularly adept at using its soft, fleshy body to take 
the edge off highly acidic cheese and the bite
out of blue vein. Finding that elusive harmonic balance inevitably comes 
down to figuring out whether wine or cheese,
or both, take a starring role in terms of flavour and complexity. Mainly 
this becomes a matter of personal taste.
 The trouble with wine is it can stumble over cheese pretty easily. Red 
wine, contrary to accepted mythology, is
fundamentally unfriendly because its tannins tend to bounce off cheese, 
making the wine taste sharper and,
sometimes, metallic.
Heavy salting in cheese exacerbates the problem. Because younger reds are 
more tannic than older ones, the
solution is to opt for an older red or something younger made in a 
softer, fleshier, low-tannin style.
With this in mind white wines are generally much better with cheese than 
reds. Lacking tannins, they usually carry
higher acid levels which cut nicely through the fat content of most 
cheese.
Sweet wines clearly complement a wider range of cheeses than dry whites. 
Here dry New Zealand whites have an
advantage in containing from 3-8 grams of sugar a bottle, enough to be 
considered semi-sweet or off-dry elsewhere in the world.
This is a pretty cheese-friendly attribute to have, providing us with 
more white varieties to play around with in
matchmaking.
Soft cheeses like brie and camembert are often tricky pairings, becoming 
progressively more dangerous the riper,
gooier and more sharply acidic they get. Dry-wooded chardonnay, pinot gris,
chenin blanc, sauvignon blanc and sweet whites generally provide the 
safer bets.
Goat and sheep cheeses can be difficult, too. France's Loire Valley produces
a lot of chevre and provides plenty of inspiration through its own 
sauvignon blanc, chenin blanc and red cabernet franc.
The goatier the cheese the stronger the wine needs to be.
The herbaciousness and high acidity of sauvignon and leafiness of
franc generally pair well, with the
sweeter, fruitier chenin styles of Vouvray presenting a different but
equally good solution.  
Full-flavoured pinotage and mourvedre are worth exploring.
Hard cheeses come in many forms and go pretty well with a variety of dry 
and sweet whites, and supple reds. Here
there is much room to experiment from a few basic starting points.
The milder, nuttier versions like edam, gouda, and colby take on 
barrel-fermented whites nicely, leaving softer mature,
more savoury reds to complement the complexity of mature parmesan and 
cheddar.
Blue cheese throws out lots of interesting possibilities. The old 
standard of port with stilton does work well but many Aussie and Kiwi shirazes, pinot 
noirs and cabernets were so spirity and sweetly ripe in 1998 that they can easily
stand in for fortified reds.
The generalisation that sweet wine goes well with blue vein cheese needs 
some qualification. The sweet grape New
Zealand does so beautifully, riesling, is often so sharply defined and 
strongly flavoured it tends to clash with the
intricate variations of blue veins.
More neutral late harvested chardonnays or semillons offer more latitude 
for a cheese's personality to shine through.
Fortified Australian liqueur Tokay provides a similar neutrality..
There really isn't any absolute right or wrong yet when it comes to, pairing wine with 
cheese.      
Stereotypes are trotted out matching claret with cheddar, sauternes with roquefort and 
stilton with port, but these are old traditions.
The best advice I can offer consumers is to go out and explore what works best for you.
Always drink less, drink better. Visit Paul White's Website, at www.winesenz.co.nz

Best Buys
Selaks Drylands Chardonnay 1999, 13 per cent
This is super wine, begging for a hunk of brie. Complex and creamy, without being 
buttery, it shows excellent tart, persistent applesauce characters and finely balanced acids. 
Cheap at $17 to $19. Widely available.
Pegasus Bay Finale barrel-fermented Noble Chardonnay 1997, 14 per cent
Here is an all-rounder able to take on most blue-veined or soft white cheeses. Very sweet 
and very tart, it shows excellent apple-like chardonnay characters, shaded by marmalade-
like aromas. Selective hand-picking makes it expensive, but worth its $35 price.

Primitive amphibians star in DoC promotional drive

nature watch
John Walsby

Tiny Native: Archey's frog (Leipelma Archeyi) is our smallest at just 37mm long – 
smaller than a golf ball.

As the world's sole survivor of a particular reptile group from the age of dinosaurs, the 
tuatara is widely acknowledged as a very special creature.
But living fossils from other New Zealand animal groups deserve similar 
recognition, says Department of Conservation spokesman Ian Bradley. Most, including 
our four species of native frogs, 
pepeketua, are largely overlooked. But the
department aims to raise the profile of these primitive amphibians in an 
awareness campaign launched at the
Auckland Regional Council's Arataki visitor centre, in the Waitakeres.
It is hoped that this will lead to better protection for all surviving 
colonies and possibly to the discovery of a few more remnant populations in parts of the 
country where they have yet to be 
recorded.
The campaign is supported by a video and printed information revealing 
details of the lives and distribution of these
secretive creatures and the threats to their existence. The video 
contains good footage of all four surviving native species.
Being small, well camouflaged and nocturnal, native frogs are hard to 
find but are easily distinguished from the more commonly encountered introduced frogs - 
all three from Australia  - by 
their size, by having pupils that are round
rather than slit shaped and in having no
round, external eardrum behind the eye.
 Unlike most frogs our native species do not have free-swimming tadpoles. 
They complete the tadpole stage within
their transparent eggs and emerge as walking juveniles that, in three of 
the species, are cared for by their fathers until they become independent.
From fossils and other preserved skeletal remains, it is known that until 
between 1000 and 2000 years ago New
Zealand had at least seven different species of frog. Three are now 
extinct and the distribution range of the four
survivors has shrunk dramatically.
Hamilton's frog is now found only on Stephens Island in Cook Strait where 
there are only about 300 individuals. The
Maud Island frog was similarly restricted until some were recently transferred to another 
island for species security, and Archey's frog - our 
smallest at just 37mm long, smaller than the
diameter, of a golf ball - is only known from the Coromandel's forested 
peaks and one site near Te Kuiti
The most widespread species
Hochstetter's frog, is found at several sites around the top half of the 
North Island. It appears to require wet
conditions, for it is restricted to stream margins and seepages and is 
the only native frog with webbing between its toes.
New Zealand frogs are recognised as some of the most primitive in the 
world, and as their numbers are dwindling due to predation, habitat destruction or 
environmental contamination, it is 
important that any chance discoveries are
reported to the nearest Department of Conservation. office.

Safety in numbers for new MPs

100 years ago
from the files of the New Zealand Herald

The first trial of the budding MP's nerves arrives with his first 
introduction to the House. If he comes in for the first time
at a general election, he gets off easily enough. At such times the entire 
House is sworn in by fours and fives, and the ceremonial attendant upon the solemn "I do 
sincerely promise and swear that 
I will be faithful and bear true allegiance
to Her Majesty Queen Victoria" is robbed of much of its dignity and 
impressiveness by the very immenseness of the operation.
But suppose that, on the other hand, our budding Disraeli has come in at 
what is known as a byelection. He will not
readily forget his experience.
In the first place he must be introduced by two members, who must swear to 
his "identity."
The eventful evening arrived, he finds himself relegated to a back seat at 
the end of the House.
Here he sits and vainly endeavours to appear unconcerned, whilst the 
stereotyped round of members' questions and
Ministers' replies is proceeded with.
Then ensues an ominous pace, during which 600 pairs of eyes are turned upon 
the shivering mortal who is to afford
the next item upon the bill.
Simultaneously, the impressive accents of the Speaker are heard somewhat vaguely 
inviting "members" desirous to take 
their seats to come to the table of the
House, in order to be sworn in.
More like a criminal going to execution than the proud man he imagined himself but a 
few hours previously, the oath-taker steps down that historic aisle between his two 
introducers.
After bowing thrice (nine bows in all), they arrive at the table, where his 
friends promptly desert him. Then he realises,
often for the first time in his life, what an insignificant thing a man 
really is.
Next quickly follow the oath, the shaky signature in the members' book, a 
hearty handshake and welcome from the
Speaker, and all is over.
But the introduction is nothing to the maiden speech. Even the finest of 
orators have frequently come terrible
croppers.

Arts & minds

Post-colonial traumatic stress disorder has entered the language of public 
debate courtesy of Maori Affairs Minister
Tariana Turia, but as the major exhibition Parihaka at the City Gallery in 
Wellington shows, the injustices of the past
and the path to healing are concepts that have engaged the minds and works 
of artists for decades.
Twenty-five years after
the end of the New Zealand Wars on November 5,1881, a force of 644 armed 
constabulary members, plus a thousand
settler volunteers stormed Parihaka Pa in Taranaki, the home of Maori pacifist dissidents 
led by Te Whiti o
Rongomai and his associate Tohu. They arrived with guns but were met by 
singing children. Many of the inhabitants
were forced into exile, their dwellings sacked, their leaders jailed for 
sedition. It was a shameful exercise of colonial
power towards leaders whose pacifist teachings were to influence Gandhi. 
Gallery director Paula Savage says of the
exhibition, which has been prepared in partnership with the people of Te 
Tai Tonga and Parihaka Pa, "This art
confronts the issues of Maori/Pakeha relations. By confronting and 
acknowledging the damage done, art has the
power to heal the wounds and begin the journey toward reconciliation."
The image is of the Parihaka leader Te Whiti, by Ralph Hotere.
Gillbert Wong, arts editor
Festival decision time
It's crunchtime for the proposed Auckland international arts festival. In a 
fortnight, festival trustees, given seed money
of $350,000 by Auckland City Council, will decide if a festival can be up 
and running for next February.
Project manager Margi Mellsop, who has organised the International Laugh 
Festival, says she hoped a festival could
be timed to attract international acts from the Sydney and Perth arts 
festivals. She had in mind local performers like
the Taki Rua Theatre and the Auckland Philharmonia.
Mellsop says: "We can't go off half-cocked. Aucklanders are a very discerning audience. 
They want quality and if we can't deliver we shouldn't proceed."
 Auckland City councillor and trustee Victoria Carter said that if nothing 
was to happen this summer, 2003 was a long
time to wait.
Prize winners
The Arts on Monday readers who won tickets to last night's Auckland Chamber 
Orchestra concert The Music of
England were: Ann Casey of Te Atatu; Mel Allport of Pakuranga and Audrey 
Hastings of Maraetai.
More prize winners
The five New Zealand artists who will become Arts Foundation laureates will be 
announced on September 11 in Auckland. The laureates receive $30,000 plus marketing 
help via a website developed by Saatchi and Saatchi.
 The awards are the first major event from the Arts Foundation of New Zealand Awards. 
The selection panel is: arts patron Robin Congreve, theatre educator Sunny Amey, music 
commentator Elizabeth Kerr and writers Witi Ihimaera and Bill Manhire.

ARTS IN BRIEF
New broom for Silo
A board has been appointed to oversee the financially troubled Silo 
Theatre, Auckland's home for fringe theatre. The
board is: lawyer Andrew Caisley, publicist Rachel Lorimer, Peter McDermott 
of sponsorship firm Sportsgold, Rose
Carnahan, venue manager for the Classic and producer/peformers Andrew 
Lumsen, Feliticity Letcher and Wade
Jackson. Present artistic director Crawford Thompson finishes his tenure 
this month. A fundraiser season featuring a
double bill of Dog and Survivor will run from September 12 to 16. The board 
aims to continue the theatre's support of
innovative local theatre.
Planet actress
At the Edinburgh Festival, Madeleine Sami, star of Toa Fraser's play No 
2 was nominated for best actress. "An
expertly performed, glorious piece of theatre," wrote The Scotsman. Theatre 
producer Guy Masterson said: "Such
talent. Some people are touched by God. In 10 years she will be the 
greatest actress on the planet."
Bombay jazz
Most people would think a New Zealand jazz singer would go to the music's 
birthplace in the United States to train.
But Wellington singer Angeline Conaghan is trail-blazing by going to India 
instead. The 26-year-old, who has launched
her first album in Wellington, will learn Hindustani extended vocal 
techniques in Bombay early next year. The visit,
along with other training in Europe, is backed by a Creative New Zealand 
grant. Conaghan will study for two months at the Jazz Indian Vocal Institute in Bombay. 
The Hindustani style involves 
singing Indian rhythms, and the school
teaches it in a way that it can be used by jazz and other Western singers.
Olympic voices
The Waikato Youth Choir was one of 16 international groups who entertained 
thousands of people in Newcastle,
Australia, as the Olympic torch arrived in New South Wales' second-largest 
city. The choir sang at a dusk ceremony
to welcome the torch. The Waikato choir, led by conductor Kathy Petersen, 
joined 1000 singers from  the United
States, India, England, Canada, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Japan and the 
Philippines to sing Newcastle's anthem. They also performed at the Sydney Opera House.
Emotional opening
A packed Wellington City Gallery was the scene of an emotional opening of 
an exhibition. Parihaka - The Art Of
Passive Resistance features artworks inspired by the legacy and history of 
Parihaka, a Maori settlement in Taranaki
that was destroyed by colonial forces in 1881.
Invitation to sister
Fortuitous or just meant to be, North Otago
artist Sister Mary Horn is not sure about her
invitation to exhibit at an international art
exhibition in Rome during November. She is
one of 15 Dominican order artists taking part in the exhibition staged by the order in 
Rome's Minerva church and convent. Representing the
Asia-Pacific region, along with a Korean and a Japanese artist, Sister Mary was invited to
contribute after the exhibition organiser saw
one of her paintings in Rome.  

McCahons no, but art bargains still to be had
If you had a million dollars to spend on works of art, what would you 
buy? 
Well, if you're Te Papa it gets you two paintings, and a quarter of a third, with a little bit 
left over.
That's about what the national museum
has paid in the past  two  months to strengthen its collection of New, 
Zealand works.
First was a Gottfried Lindauer painting of Maori women and children on a 
riverbank, sold by Webb's in Auckland for
$198,000 (including 10 per cent buyer's premium but excluding GST, paid only on the 
premium).
Then it was the last major work of Louis John Steele, Charles Goldie's 
teacher, of the launching of a Maori war canoe. That fetched $297,000 (premium 
included, as with the following prices) at an Auckland auction by the Wellington firm 
Dunbar Sloane.
Then just last week came the purchase, for $1.78 million, of a major work by New 
Zealand's best-selling artist, Colin McCahon. The private collector who owned A 
Painting for Uncle Frank (sold for less than $20,000 in 1980) will be paid in instalments 
over four years - around $450,0000 a year, if no interest is 
charged.
At that rate, and with the close to $1.5 million a New Zealand couple is 
understood to have paid Victoria University
last year for Storm Warning, another fine McCahon, it may not be long 
before the $1 million barrier for the artist's works is breached at auction.
Webb's sold a McCahon in the early 1990s for $550,000, then a record, and 
did even better around 1995 with Be Let
Be, which fetched $704,000.
Both works might sell for more than $1 million today were they offered.
All very well if you're a millionaire, but what say your spending plans are more round 
the thousand or two?
In that case, there are often some very attractive works to be picked up towards the tail-
end of big auctions, when the rich buyers have had their say and the auctioneer seems 
keen to wind up a long evening.
That was especially marked at Dunbar Sloane's White Heron sale a month 
ago.
There are also Webb's affordable art sales, held every couple of months 
or so, and with virtually all works with estimated values below $2000, and without 
reserve. This is the place to pick up good New
Zealand prints, by such artists as Pat Hanly, Stanley Palmer, Claudia 
Pond-Eyley, Gary Wicker and Trevor Lloyd, at
quite reasonable prices.
There are also usually lots of works by lesser-known artists and 
historical works, both from New Zealand and overseas.
Many works - some very appealing - sell for less than $200. Only a handful 
approach or exceed $2000. And while
buying what you like, you can reflect on the unpredictability of the art market. Last 
month saw a work by a reasonably well-known Auckland artist (who shall be nameless) 
which cost $4400 not too many years ago, go for $275. Not every artist hits the heights.
Coming up: Cordy's is offering 50 paintings and prints, including a J.B.C. Hoyte lake 
scene, in its evening sale on Tuesday, September 12.
A big spring sale of paintings, antiques, and jewellery, which includes three McCahons, 
will be held by Webb's on September 19, 20 and 21. The catalogue will be out on Friday.
Dunbar Sloane, which recorded some high prices at its Wellington sale last week, is 
accepting entries for its second Auckland sale, planned for around the end of October.
A Lindauer portrait of a Maori woman, Wapita Matina, will be a highlight of the next 
International Art Centre sale, on November 10 in the Cathedral of the Holy Trinity, 
Parnell.
- Don Milne

Sold: A Painting for Uncle Frank cost $1.78 million but many works go for under $200.

Fresh concepts from France

European Edge: Heather Robb with Italian leather masks. She is in New Zealand to run 
theatrical workshops.

Bernadette Rae learns why a 16th-century theme is so relevant in today's theatre.

Thirty years in France have given ex-patriot New Zealand actor Heather 
Robb a distinct European flair.
She stepped off her long international flight, just 48 hours before her 
commedia dell'arte workshop at Unitec was due
to start, unfazed, uncrumpled, wearing dramatic jewellery and spunky hair 
- and with a decidedly French, 14-year-old
daughter at her side.
More than 20 actors, dancers and other theatre people enrolled for the 
workshop in commedia dell'arte led by Robb,
who has performed and taught extensively through Europe and Australia - 
at the Jacques Lecoq School in Paris, the
French National Circus, a community-based theatre school in Normandy, and 
at Sydney's NIDA.
The 16th-century "comedy of artists" has a remarkably modern feel in the year 2000, 
Robb says, as it deals with the existential themes of greed, poverty, death, sex and 
survival as a giant tragic-comic farce.
"Everything is improvised and performances are often outside. And 
everything comes from the actor."
Robb also founded the first Playback Theatre group in France in 1988, and 
remained as its artistic director until 1996.
 Playback is a medium she still loves -
for its improvisation, its "provision of a ter-
rain where all theatrical styles are possible"
and for the close involvement of its audi-
ence.
"Every performance is a social event," she says.
Though strictly an Australian by birth, Robb grew up in Wellington, the 
niece of Sir Douglas Robb.
She attended Queen Margaret College with Jane Campion, where both were 
influenced by a remarkable drama
teacher, Maria Dronke, who had fled her native Austria during the war.
"We knew she was extraordinary then," says Robb.
But it was not until years later, when her teacher died and Robb's mother 
sent on the
obituary, that Robb discovered Dronke had been a member of the 
prestigious and innovative Max Reinhardt troupe,
still seen as a seminal force in modem theatre in Europe.
"There were a lot of interesting European people in Wellington at that 
time," Robb remembers. "Mostly they were just
trying to get on with life and integrate, but they were an important part 
of the climate then. I went to university with
their children ."
Robb majored in English for her master's degree at Victoria - "there was 
no drama department in those days" - with
French and German her other academic interests.
At 22 she left for France to take up a post as an "assistante anglaise" - teaching in French 
schools, and travelling and waitressing in her spare time.
It was during her time waiting on tables during the 70s that she 
developed an abiding interest in food.
Three years ago Robb and her husband purchased a 150-year-old farmhouse 
and land in the south-west of France,
converting the property into a residential theatre training centre, 
called Les Combelles. Robb not only teaches and
tends extensive permaculture vegetable gardens, but cooks for the 
students as well.
She feels she has now come full circle.
A barn on the property has been converted into a performance space and 
workshop facility and Les Combelles' kitchen can feed 16 comfortably at each meal.
The aim is to provide not only a venue for excellent teaching in the 
performing arts in an ecologically sound
environment, but a retreat also, for the artistic soul.
An Australian creative writing group is already planning a visit and Robb 
hopes that her Australasian roots will foster
more visits from the antipodes.
Robb spent several years studying at the Jacques Lecoq School, where the 
notion of actor as creator is stressed and
where
students are presented with "a fan of opportunities" in which to work - one 
of those opportunities being commedia
dell'arte.
 She returned to Australia in the late 70s but the Lecoq influence had not 
yet reached there and work was hard to
find.
Robb created her own, primarily in a clown duo with another woman. And she did a lot 
of teaching. But by 1980 she was "fed up" and returned to Europe where she has lived 
since.
She returns to New Zealand and Australia every two or three years to visit 
family - an elderly mother in Wellington and
brothers on either side of the Tasman.
Daughter Charlotte, who plans to be an actor like her parents, also maintains links with 
the New Zealand side of her family.
She is often a lone voice barracking for the All Blacks among her friends - 
and is the only girl to play in the local
rugby club.

Faith in humans key to cash aid

So you want to raise a cool $300 million? Gillbert Wong asks the right man.

It sounds simple when William Conner describes it. "You have to believe 
that people are ultimately generous. If you
believe, then you believe people have the desire and willingness to have a 
better society and culture in which to live."
He's talking about convincing individuals to part with their hard-earned 
cash to support arts and cultural institutions.
Conner is a master of this art.
He is vice-president of Grenzenbach Glier, claimed to be the largest 
transatlantic philanthropic consultancy. Based in
London, he has a personal client list that includes the Victoria and Albert 
Museum, the Glyndebourne Opera House
and the Edinburgh Festival.
His company has existed for more than 40 years, linked to Ivy league 
universities. It is not a a fundraising company, he is quick to say. It tells organisations 
how to raise money for themselves. As 
consultants, they help organisations preparing for
changes and in need of funding to make the jump to the next level of their 
evolution.
Conner was visiting main centres this month with Julian Marland, of the 
South Bank Centre, as part of the Montana
Masterclass series.
When it comes to American and British institutions, the figures they 
routinely help to raise beggar the sums in this country.
For a new medical wing for Stamford University, Grenzenbach Glier staged a 
billion-dollar campaign, raising that sum
from philanthropic individuals. To finance a refurbishment to ensure the 
San Francisco Opera House met earthquake
standards, Conner, then the company's director of development, was able to 
triple the level
of public donations to raise $US150 million
It is entirely about the relationship the institution has with its 
community, he says.
"You lay out your plan, vision and financial needs and engage as many 
people as possible with the vision. The more
inclusive and engaging you can be, the more the need is going to be 
understood.
"Fundraising is simple. It's relationship marketing. You strive to have the leadership and 
opinion-setters behind you."
For Conner, the fundraising business began when he was 8 and was told by 
his father to hop on his bike and sell the
ads for the church calendar.
At university he did not study marketing or business. His degree is in 
music performance. He remains an
accomplished harpsichordist, and in a former career was an editor for the 
Grove Dictionary of Music.
 In this country the creative sector often
raises two inherent difficulties with corporates who remain major funders of culture: 
corporate sponsorship can lead to conservative art and a preference to invest in visible 
and long-lasting bricks and mortar rather than what can be the transience of performance 
and exhibition.
Conner says this is not the trend in the United States, where the growth 
in philanthropy is not from corporates but
individuals. He sees no reason why this
shouldn't be the case in New Zealand.
"If you look at American philanthropy, 95 per cent is from individuals 
and 5 per cent from companies. Ultimately it is down to individuals. If they have more 
than they need, then they will do 
things for the benefit of their communities."
Conner and his colleagues advise on how arts organisations can make 
themselves an integral part of their
communities. Often this means simple strategies, like making better use 
of the core volunteers and
enthusiasts many organisations have.
There are new buzzwords, such as e-philanthropy, where the use of website 
and e-mail technology cuts the cost of
hardcopy newsletters and enables a more personalised dialogue between the 
organisation and its supporters,
whether they are volunteers, season ticket-holders or local and national 
government But Conner says these are only a tool and do not alter what is a personal 
business, reliant on building 
relationships with integrity and honesty.

Money Matters: Bill Conner says fundraising on a huge scale is a simple, basic business.


