Finding freedom

Having spent five years locked in a basement as a teen, Dr Angela Loucks Alexander now uses her experience to break others free from the metaphorical prisons of their mind.

WORDS Dr Angela Loucks Alexander
PHOTOS Karlie Morrow

Thirteen steps and a click. These were the sounds I listened for because it meant my dad was coming down the stairs and unlocking the basement door with my next meal. Always the same. Two peanut butter sandwiches for lunch. Two American processed cheese sandwiches for dinner, always left wordlessly on the chair outside my room. I wasn’t talked to or touched or told I was loved from the ages of 13 to 17. This was the number of years I was locked in that basement.

There was no running water downstairs, so buckets were my bath and my toilet. I went to school to keep up appearances, to show that things were fine, because my dad and stepmother were primary school teachers. I was too frightened and humiliated to tell anyone how I lived and I thought it was reasonable because I believed them when they told me they were doing it for my own good – to help me focus. 

They had pressured me to tell my mother that I wanted nothing to do with her. She thought I was living a life of privilege. She wrote me letters that I never saw. My dad and stepmother didn't want me, but they didn't want my mother to have me either.    

During long periods in the basement, like the three months of summer or Christmas break, it was so lonely. I used to stare at the ceiling, picking out images from the wood in the beams overhead. There was no sound, no sunshine, only nothing. 

My stepmother believed children like me should be seen and not heard. They said I wasn't intelligent enough to go to university. 

Luckily for me, a group of brave girls and strong women in my high school realised something wasn't quite right, and they found a way of reaching down and pulling me up out of my basement prison. 

My life transitioned from darkness to sunshine in the blink of an eye.

My foster mum restored the faith I had lost in myself by saying, “You are so good!” hundreds of times per day. I'd do the smallest thing, such as closing the door softly, and she would notice it. “Look at what you just did,” she’d say. “You just closed that so nicely. You are
so good. How lucky am I to have you?”
In the six months I lived with her, she reconnected me with my mum, who showered me with all the love she had held in, through all those years without me.

Today, I’m a doctor of audiology and I’m telling this story because I know what it's like to be set aside. To be dismissed. To be imprisoned. But I also know how it feels to be set free.

School wasn't easy for me, but learning brought me joy. When I was in graduate school, I needed to record lectures and re-listen to them about three times to understand and remember what I learned.

And then, one day in April 2004, my life snapped into focus when Jack Katz, PhD, gave a lecture at the University of Kansas on Auditory Processing Disorder (APD). There was this unmistakable feeling that I was learning about something I had always known. It felt like I was falling in love. I knew, on that day, that this was the work I would do for the rest of my life and the wonderful Dr Katz became my mentor.

What is APD?

Auditory processing is how the brain translates what the ears hear. When there is an error in this process it is called an Auditory Processing Disorder. So, APD is a hearing disorder with less to do with the ears and more to do with the brain. 

Six in 100 people likely live with the disorder, but the rates are even higher
in the most marginalised and vulnerable people. For example, research from the University of Auckland suggests that 35 percent of Pacific Island children may have this disorder partially due to the high prevalence of middle ear problems in early childhood. If a child learns language through fluid in the ears, the brain gets a distorted version of speech sounds.

APD often occurs alongside dyslexia, autism, AD/HD, brain injury, and emerging research suggests high rates in the prison population.  

If you have travelled to another country where people speak a different language, you know how this feels. You’re aware they are speaking, but you can’t process what they are saying. It's exhausting, frustrating and isolating. Now, imagine feeling like that in your own language. 

When you struggle to hear and understand, you struggle to feel heard and understood.

1. Awareness

   The first step is awareness. Ask someone to say these two sounds – ‘b-eh’ and ‘d-eh’ – out loud. Are you aware that they just said something? If you aren't, you might have hearing loss. We overcome issues of awareness with devices like hearing aids or cochlear implants.

2. Discrimination

   The next step is called “discrimination”. You might be aware that they said something, but can you tell that b-eh and d-eh are different sounds. They are similar, but they are not the same.  

3. Identification

   After that is “identification”. Let’s say you can hear the difference between two sounds, but can you identify that b-eh is B and d-eh is D.  

4. Comprehension

   We need all these steps to get to the final level, our goal, which is called “comprehension” or understanding what someone has said. 

   While each person with APD may struggle with a different auditory skill along this continuum, some struggle even at the discrimination level – hearing the difference between sounds.  

   Because discrimination is such a low-level skill, it can look like an issue of awareness and many people get diagnosed with hearing loss. As a result, adults with APD will often think they need hearing aids and go to an audiologist for a hearing test. 

   A standard hearing test where you hear a beep and you push a button, or you raise
   your hand, is a test of awareness. This tells us nothing about auditory processing, which is far more complex.

Jackie’s test results before doing the 12-week course delivered by Dr Alexander, designed to help people with APD. 

Jackie’s story

My client, Jackie, thought she had hearing loss, but her hearing tests were normal. Audiologists said that she was fine, but this didn't match her experience. During my career, I’ve learned to make the conscious decision to believe every client who tells me they're struggling.  

Jackie had complaints that were consistent with APD. She constantly asked people to repeat themselves. She would struggle to hear in background noise and she'd always mishear lyrics. And she had to use subtitles in order to understand the plot in movies.

She said her ears didn't work right even as a child, but her parents said she needed to pay more attention. When she got things wrong, her family called her dumb, and then, in school, she struggled to learn to read and spell. 

We assessed Jackie’s auditory processing abilities by using a battery of tests that measure different auditory skills. Here were Jackie's intial and retest APD test results:

Green is good. Red means a score worse than 99.9% of the population her age.

Jackie has a lot of red. She has an auditory processing disorder, but it's a hopeful diagnosis because we can do something about it. We can introduce auditory training. 

It's like circuit training for the ears. We increase whatever auditory skills are lacking to see improvement in potential and wellbeing.  

One of the exercises is called Words in Noise Training. When you hear a word, you repeat it back immediately. As the exercise progresses, so does the level of background noise.

Jackie had auditory training sessions once a week for 12 weeks and then we retested her. I couldn't believe the transformed woman in front of me. She was comfortable and confident. She told me this work had changed her relationship with her dad. He said he'd been hard on her because people had been hard on him. 

It’s difficult to be a parent or a teacher of a child with APD because “not listening” is such a trigger for most adults. How often have you heard someone complain that a child is a “selective listener”? Or a husband who has “domestic deafness?” All dad jokes aside, what if that person has this neurological condition and needs treatment?

Looking back

Remember how I said I had to record all my lectures? After a year of sitting next to Dr Katz as he provided auditory training, I arrived at a lecture without my recording device. I panicked and thought the next three hours would be a waste of time. But, at the end of the class, I realised my notes were coherent and I had remembered what the professor had said. And for the first time, I didn't feel tired from listening. 

I had not realised how much my own life had been affected by APD until it was resolved. And I'm not alone. A majority of the people most affected by APD don't even know it exists. And most professionals who know it exists don't realise it can be treated beyond devices. But I'm working to change that. I'm teaching courses with the Auditory Processing Institute to train and empower audiologists and speech-language pathologists to identify and treat this difficulty. 

Early intervention  

We have test materials that can assess auditory skills from three and a half years of age. 

Right now, there is a new protocol called the Frequency Following Response that tests processing using brain waves in response to sound. It has the potential to identify children at risk of language and reading problems at birth. 

Early intervention is crucial in child development. The first three months are the most important and the first three years are the next most important. As I’m a mother now, I want my kid to have the best life as soon as possible. 

People with hearing loss can also have auditory processing difficulties. They can fix their awareness issue with great hearing aids, but that doesn't automatically get them to comprehension. They can also benefit from auditory training.

We must understand that the ear is the hardware and the brain is the software. We need both to work well to have a great user experience. 

There are lots of treatment types available: in-person, online, even apps.  What works for some, doesn’t necessarily work for others.  And, unfortunately, some approaches aren’t backed by good science.  

When we went to print, Angela’s TEDxTauranga talk had over 107k views on Youtube, just days after being posted. To enjoy the powerful talk and read the incredibly emotional comments search ‘Escaping the Hidden Prison of Auditory Processing Disorder’ on YouTube and TEDxTauranga.com. 

Dreams for the future

Remember Jackie? Her treatment matched the problems she had which is why her results were so life changing.

In the future, I have a dream that we could do this for more people by using machine learning to plan treatment.

My hope is that people will notice the impact auditory processing has on their lives and be empowered to seek help to improve it. 

While it may take a bit of courage and persistence, I'll tell you right now, to come out of this metaphorical basement, to end the solitary confinement, it's well worth it for a life in the sun.

And you should do it because you are SO good.

apdsupport.com
auditoryprocessinginstitute.com

Reel Ambition

The unstoppable Bryce Dinneen from Wish4Fish proves there are no limits to sharing his adventurous dreams.

WORDS Sue Hoffart
PHOTOS Graeme Murray + Logan Davey + Supplied

Four percent. According to specialists, that’s the level of voluntary movement Bryce Dinneen has retained since his mobility was snatched by a single dumb, drunken dive into Wellington Harbour.

He jokes that, statistically speaking, he now has to work 25 times harder than other people just to keep up. 

In fact, the Pyes Pa resident has been outrunning the able-bodied for years, with his clear-headed vision, outstanding fundraising feats and extraordinary drive to share the joy of a salt water adventure.

Bryce formed a trust and launched the Wish4Fish charity a decade ago, to smash down the barriers that prevent some people from boating and fishing on the ocean. Under his watch, the trust has spent almost $90,000 taking more than 350 people onto the water regardless of their physical or mental disabilities, illness or financial needs. 

But he’s always had bigger fish to fry.

Hiring less-than-ideal vessels to take groups of two or three people at a time only proved to him that demand greatly exceeded capacity. So Bryce has driven an additional fundraising campaign that has raised $2.4 million. This venture, dubbed Project Noah, funded the design and construction of a remarkable custom-made boat that has opened seagoing doors for even more people who would otherwise be confined to land. First launched from Tauranga Bridge Marina recently, the world-first 18m vessel caters for 1000 people a year. 

Last year, he was named volunteer of the year in the TECT Trust community awards for being “a shining example to us all to never give up, and to strive to make the world a better place.”

And he has pulled all this off with 96 percent less mobility than most of the rest of us; a shoulder shrug on the left side, some movement in his right shoulder and bicep. It’s enough to manipulate the phone he keeps in his lap and operate his motorised wheelchair, not enough to scratch his nose. His ever-whirring brain works overtime, though, alongside an uncanny ability to articulate and quietly inspire. 

It’s been a team effort, of course. Bryce is adamant credit be given to all the family, friends, trustees, management team and generous business people, strangers, tradespeople and major funders who continue to work alongside him. However, there is no doubt whose audacious dream they’re following.

“Fishing’s part of it,” the charity founder says, explaining his determination to build a large, stable catamaran fitted with everything from hospital beds and a ceiling hoist to an accessible bathroom, shower, elevator and modified fishing rods. “But sometimes it’s not about the fish. It’s about the camaraderie, the highs and lows, losing a fish then trying again, channelling that frustration in the right way. It’s about getting out on the water, wind in the hair, sun on the face. It’s about normality.

“If you have an illness or a disability or a hardship, if your life’s frazzled, you can spend a day on the water and I guarantee you’ll come back with some kind of clarity.”

He describes seeing people with serious diagnoses – schizophrenia, bipolar, cancer, tetraplegic – leave their worries on land when they embark on a Wish4fish voyage. Accompanying caregivers, often overextended family members, are similarly uplifted. Some passengers have never been on a boat, others are keen fishers who imagined they would never venture on one again.

Bryce feared he was in the latter camp for much of his 11-month stay at Burwood Spinal Unit, following his life-altering accident. 

He tosses out more numbers from those difficult days in the Christchurch hospital. Like 8kg. That’s the weight that was initially attached to his head back in 2007, when he spent 23.5 hours a day in head traction to stabilise the fractures that had caused paralysis from the neck down. 

He was at a stag party in Wellington when it happened, an outgoing, carefree business student dressed in a suit and tie. Bryce and a dozen friends started the day with a champagne breakfast – “too much champagne, not enough breakfast” – and decided to leap into the harbour to sober up but he misjudged the depth of the water.

His neck was broken and his spinal cord so badly squashed, doctors likened it to the damage caused by an elephant standing on a tomato. 

Until then, he was a fishing-mad 29-year-old cheerfully on the verge of a new career. Having abandoned a building apprenticeship, he spent 10 years immersed in the “bright lights and late nights” of the hospitality industry before launching into an Otago University finance degree at age 28. He’s always been entrepreneurial and still can’t drive past a kid selling something on the roadside without making a purchase, even if he has to toss the bagged fruit or homemade lemonade away. In his teens, the former Tauranga Boys’ College prefect was a top cricketer who hoped to play for New Zealand. He also chaired the school’s charity committee, gathering skills he never imagined using from a wheelchair.

Suddenly, he faced the prospect of never walking, never feeding himself.

“Mum and Dad brought me up the right way, to open the door for a lady, to pull the chair out for her, to give someone else that seat on the bus. I want to kick a soccer or rugby ball around with my two nephews. Those options aren’t available any more.

“Now, I need someone to turn the light switch on in the morning and to turn it off again at night and everything in between.”

He describes one grim day of hopelessness in the early months and recalls how horribly upset this attitude made his parents and sister.

“I made a promise to myself. No more tears. Whatever happens moving forward, I’ll try and make the most out of it.

“Mum and Dad are really good people. They worked hard, they provided for me but they also taught me you have to work a little if you want to get a little.”

So he focussed on what he wanted, rather than what he couldn’t do. Like getting back on a boat and fishing again. Or using his voice to advocate for others, especially those with disabilities.

It was the photos stuck to the ceiling above his hospital bed that inspired him; images of happy times in the company of good people and plenty of fish. 

“I was like, ‘how am I going to do this again’,” Bryce remembers of his determination to return to the sport he has loved since dangling a line off a wharf at age four. “Speaking with people on the spinal unit, fellow patients, I’d ask ‘would you like to go fishing’. I used to hear ‘never’ a lot. And ‘can’t’. When you’re someone with a disability you hear ‘never’ and ‘can’t’.

“Those words are still there in my vocab, they just get flipped around. If you say negative, I say challenge.  You can change so many things. 

“There’s stuff I have to manage that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but I’m grateful. I just appreciate everything, waking up every morning. Every minute is just gold for me now. Me getting up in the morning, that’s gold. And if it’s not, well, sometimes you need a day in bed.”

He was still undergoing rehabilitation, living at home in Tauranga with his parents, when he established Wish4Fish. A local accountant and a lawyer helped establish the trust that would govern the charity, serving as unpaid trustees. Initially, they needed to raise money and profile amidst a sea of 27,000 other registered charitable New Zealand trusts, churning out funding applications and talking to people in the community. The team has expanded since then – Wish4Fish has a general manager – but Bryce has lost count of the number of fundraising sausage sizzles, dinners and corporate events he has personally attended. Or the talks given to service groups and interested companies.

Bryce fundraised $2.4m over 10 years to build FV Wish4Fish.

From the outset, it proved difficult to find a suitable, wheelchair-friendly boat for the charity trips. Charter boat skippers were nervous of tackling the necessary logistics and most vessels proved unsafe, too unstable, with difficult access and problematic layouts. Often, Bryce would test potential vessels himself to see what possible issues that others might face on board. He even submitted to the indignity of being hoisted out of his chair and lifted over the side of a boat when his wheelchair would not fit. 

“First, you’ve got to get onto the boat from the dock and you don’t want to be faced with stairs to access the bathroom. Then you have someone in a wheelchair, on a moving platform. Having a high level spinal cord injury, I can’t regulate my body temperature and you’re dealing with sea conditions and weather that can change at any time. If people are strapped into a chair and they go overboard, they’re going straight to the bottom so everyone wears an auto-inflating life jacket. There are a whole lot of health and safety issues.”

Boat owners tried to help. One commercial skipper offered to widen the back of his boat and built a ramp to get Bryce on board. Monohull boats were deemed too unsteady. Most were too small to take more than two or three high-needs people with their caregivers. A boat owned by a double-amputee in Coromandel proved better than most but every vessel required compromise.

“The only solution was to build a boat,” he says, comparing his ‘build it and they will come’ philosophy to Noah and his ark.

As the catamaran nears completion, he and the Project Noah team are focussed on the next stage. That means creating a sustainable non-profit organisation that can fund ongoing operational costs – paying a skipper, maintaining the boat, taking passengers at no charge - by hiring the boat to corporate, community and educational entities. 

Support continues to come from multiple quarters, like the occupational therapists working at local medical equipment firm Cubro. Or the companies that have seized on the cause and run their own fundraising events. Currently, he is in discussion with staff from Waikato University’s marine studies department, to find ways to work together.

He credits UNO magazine with significantly raising the charity’s profile when it published his story back in 2016. That led to an offer of help from a reader with project management and feasibility study skills, which in turn set Wish4Fish on the path to winning a game-changing $1.5m New Zealand Lottery grant.

In 2016, television personality Matt Watson showcased the charity and its founder on screen. When Tauranga retiree Ray Lowe saw the show, he stepped forward to design a fishing rod that allows Bryce to cast and wind in a fish independently, courtesy of electric reels and technological wizardry operated from an iPad in his lap. The inventive stainless steel specialist has gone on to build and donate more of these fishing rods to others and to help with other public accessibility projects. 

Bryce credits his friend with driving the Wish4Fish boat project forward, too.

“Ray’s a special kind of guy. He’s a lot more determined than me, with a 24-carat heart of gold. One day, he said ‘Bryce, if you want to build a boat let’s go draw it, map it out. So we went on an asphalt area and just mapped it out with chalk. Then we came back and measured it out. It was me and a guy and some chalk in a carpark. 

“He was the one who said we need to make the wheelchair or disability king or queen on that boat, make sure all the sharp edges are smooth. Add extra beds for the support people who stay overnight. It needs to be truly accessible to all.”

Bryce pauses and smiles, staring into the distance.

“Imagine if the family of someone with terminal cancer has the ability to go out to Mayor Island on that boat and see the sunrise at Southeast Bay before their life gets really tricky.”

Once the catamaran is in the water, he plans to step back from the “boat of joy” project that has consumed much of his energy in the last decade. It’s not his boat, he insists. It belongs to New Zealand. 

After the launch, he will spend more time with his beloved family in Christchurch, seek employment, fish, watch some cricket and relish seeing friends without tapping them on the shoulder to buy tickets to a fundraising event. That said, he can’t help imagining the changes he might be able to make for disabled people who have to negotiate airline travel.

In the meantime, there is more grassroots work to do for the man who conjured a multi-million dollar dream then made it come true. Tomorrow, he has people to meet and sizzling sausages to sell at a corporate fishing competition. 

People are everything to Mackenzie Elvin Law

WORDS NICKY ADAMS PHOTOS WAYNE TAIT + SUPPLIED

As a company that believes in being accessible to its clientele and grounded in its approach to law, Mackenzie Elvin Law has carved out a niche that certainly sets itself apart.

Founded in the early 1980s by Fiona Mackenzie, husband Graeme Elvin, and good friend and long- term business partner Marcus Wilkins, from the outset all three valued long-term relationships, recognising the value of interconnectedness with their clients. They didn’t believe in the model of just selling legal services for a fee. Despite exceptional reputations in their field – or perhaps because of them – the solid three chose to remain tight-knit.

However, the last few years have seen a need to grow to meet demand, and as a result the business has expanded from the original three partners to seven, and a team of 30-plus staff. Nevertheless, the same core values that the firm was based on have remained at the heart. Chatting with two of the partners, Rebecca Savage and Tom Elvin, what becomes very clear is that from their perspective the growth of the firm has been strategic, rather than simply reactionary.

What is also obvious is the wonderful synergy between the colleagues; Rebecca is empathetic and quick to connect with, and is exceptionally smart (she boasts a Masters of Law from the University of Cambridge), experienced and a wonderful communicator. Tom is someone you innately want to helm your ship: Simultaneously focussed and sharp, but still humorous and invested. Both agree that the common thread running through all the partners are the key qualities of competency, capability and cultural fit. Maturing over the last five years or so into a more diverse entity, expansion started with the addition of Tom Elvin.

Having worked in Auckland since he graduated, Tom brought experience in commercial property and construction law in both a corporate environment as well as with a small boutique specialist. Tom could see that within Mackenzie Elvin was “the opportunity and timing to grow and transition from a tightly-held business into a more complex organization which could serve the growing city and beyond.” Being intentional about the company’s transformation has been driven by the pillars; Fiona, Graeme and Marcus, and it has meant a specific controlled and intentional growth. For Rebecca, a chance meeting with Tom in 2018 led to another with Fiona, and straightaway Rebecca knew that she had met her perfect match, even though it meant a change in the scope of law she was practising. “Fiona and I just clicked really well and had such a strong connection.” For Tom this proves the firm’s founding values were continuing on, through the new generation; “Rebecca has admirable attributes, style and competency, and knew that she could have a meaningful and fulfilling career with us.” Clearly the move from litigation to family law is serendipitious for Rebecca; as she reflects on how she loves bringing her compassion and ability to listen to every case.

Thomas Refoy-Butler, a good friend of Tom’s, had – unbeknown to him – been earmarked as the perfect fit for the company. With a high level of experience in civil litigation, a practice area the firm was keen to move into, Tom started the “slow burn” of luring him to Tauranga and into the fold. Sure enough, he moved from Auckland and the already established relationship allows for a dynamic that, says Tom, is “like adopted siblings – you can disagree in a meaningful and effective way and get the best outcome.” Rebecca agrees. “Not only are his legal skills amazing, but there’s a whole pile of personal attributes that give you a lot of confidence.”

Jason Bywater-Lutman is the latest addition to the team of partners, and similarly was identified as someone with unquestionable business acumen. What sets him apart is not just his level of competency and effectiveness in his field of commercial property, but, as Tom notes, the fact that “he holds himself with a very high level of decorum and respect; he fits what we stand for and what we are building.” With the change of pace in what started out as a family firm, now comes a much more intentional commitment to maintaining the original ethos. By treating staff well, the company has employees that have been with them for over 30 years. Community ventures have always been strongly supported, spearheaded by Fiona, Graeme and Marcus. Indeed, Fiona and Marcus partnered with the University of Waikato Tauranga Campus to put on the Justice Susan Glazebrook talk, which was both an investment in the University and a way of facilitating discussion about wider legal issues. Community-vested projects are massive for them, as Tom points out: “Working here means that you’re part of the community that you’re living in. If you need to do that in work time, we make space for it.”

Ultimately, the culture and the professional fit are important because they allow Mackenzie Elvin Law to achieve its central purpose – which is the service it provides. How the company sets itself apart remains the same as ever: Accessibility. Tom is clear: “We make sure that every new client is seen first by one of our decision makers; a partner. We want to understand exactly what you are going through, and how we can help.”

MACKENZIE-ELVIN.COM

Columnist Craig Orr reaches new heights with the Mt Everest Challenge

Our Bayleys columnist is hitting new heights at work and play, and has ideas for how you can too.

Well, I did it! I officially conquered the More FM Mt Everest Challenge, and I’m stoked to be able to say that I raised more than $1000 for St John. Climbing the Mount 38 times in 50 days was so tough that I gave myself two weeks off walking up any kind of hill afterwards.

We’re so lucky to have Mauao Mt Maunganui to exercise on. I love the way it sits proudly at the end of the peninsula and has such an amazing presence to it. My seven-year-old daughter was one of my best supporters. She has a real competitive streak and would join me walking up the Mount a couple of times each week, often picking a fellow climber halfway up and trying to beat them to the summit. I made it my mission to beat my best time of 13 minutes from the base to the top. I ended up 11 seconds off it! But I definitely felt my fitness improve.

I recruited some of my colleagues to join me for the odd climb and managed to get a few other mates up off the couch. Overall, it was super fun and a fulfilling experience – particularly the mental challenge and camaraderie. I’d highly recommend anyone considering tackling it next year to go for it.

Speaking of the couch, my wife Natasha and I have recently finished some exciting home renovations at our place at the Mount. We’ve just had a pool dropped in, and added a cabana and done up the deck. It completely opens up our property and stretches out to our neighbour’s. We feel really lucky to be part of such a cool neighbourhood.

Tash and I lived here before we had our daughters, and we’ve always loved it. Investing in our first house in Bethlehem was a big step. It was a big home with plenty of space inside, but two years ago we found a 1960s-style home at the Mount and couldn’t resist getting back to beach life.

Our kids don’t seem to mind having less space – they’re happy being by the beach, the mountain and their friends. It’s super convenient and offers a really relaxed lifestyle. I’ve enjoyed getting involved in my daughters’ school, establishing local friendships, giving back and feeling like we’re part of the community.

At Bayleys, I’ve just had the biggest month ever. I’m 10 years into marketing properties for sale and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. I’m a bit of a late bloomer in terms of my career trajectory, as I didn’t know what I wanted to do until I was about 35. Real estate was always of interest, but it wasn’t until I took the leap that I realised how much of a passion it was. I just love helping make people’s dreams become reality.

We’ve been in a really buoyant market recently, but it feels like it’s beginning to cool slightly. With a short supply of options for potential vendors to purchase and a tight market, replacing housing stock can be challenging. That’s why winter’s the perfect time for people considering selling to take that step, because there’s less competition.

I’ve been sharing some videos about open homes and the market on my Instagram page, so have a look for the inside scoop. I do free market appraisals, so if you’re curious as to what your place is worth, give me a shout and I’ll be happy to help.

All roads lead to real estate: the diverse pasts of local Bayleys salespeople

WORDS MONIQUE BALVERT-O’CONNOR

What does it take to make it in real estate? For these professionals, innate skill, learned experience, special gifts, and backgrounds that are anything but ordinary all have something to do with it.

Carmen Dickison

Tauranga Bayleys salesperson Carmen Dickison is a brave woman with a gold medal to prove it. Not only is she a recipient of the New Zealand Police Gold Merit Award for Bravery, she was also the first female police officer to formally achieve a bravery award. According to the citation, constable Dickison had only been in the police for six months, when, “without regard for her own safety, she apprehended an armed violent offender who was terrorising a family in their own home.” Carmen’s gold was later joined by a medal for services to the police, in recognition of time spent doing a sterling job as a police presenter on the TV show Crimewatch.

Now based in Tauranga, Carmen spent her 16 years in the police force in Wellington, also working in Youth Aid and as a detective. “Youth Aid was most rewarding,” she says. “I felt like I made a difference and helped turn lives around, whether it was helping youth find a passion or linking them with mentors.” While doing all that, Carmen was also studying part-time, gaining a marketing and communications qualification that she later used in her roles as marketing manager for an art gallery and then an architecture firm – eventually leading to her current position as a residential salesperson at Bayley’s Tauranga.

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Michael Parker

Hamilton Fresh out of law school, Michael Parker headed not to chambers or a courtroom, but to the ski fields. “When I graduated, I decided to follow my absolute passion of ski instructing full-time,” he says. It was a job he’d worked at part-time during his university holidays, including on North American slopes during New Zealand summers. Michael started his full-time career at Tūroa in 1996, working as a race coach and general ski instructor, then moving up the ranks to become fully certified under the New Zealand ski instructor system. Further progression led him to ski school management positions in New Zealand and the US. He spent 16 consecutive southern and northern hemisphere winters in the job before deciding it was time to enjoy a summer and stay put in one country. “It was a fantastic industry to be in and I met some interesting people,” he says. Those people included Tom Cruise, Mel Gibson, Oprah Winfrey, Jerry Seinfeld and Dick Marriott of the prestigious hotel chain, no less. “It’s a part of my life I’ll never regret –I even met my wife through skiing,” says Michael, who made the move to real estate after returning to Hamilton to give his dad “a hand” in the property development industry for more than 10 years.

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Aaron Paterson

Hamilton Teaching and rugby paid Aaron Paterson’s bills before he joined the Bayleys team. After spending a gap year working at a private boys’ school in London, he decided to return to the school armed with a teacher’s qualification. And he did, six years later – qualified as a geography and physical education teacher with two years experience under his belt. During Aaron’s second stint abroad, he met his wife Shani Paterson in Spain – a long way from her Dunedin hometown – and had his time as a teacher interrupted by two years spent living in Japan and playing rugby for the Hokkaido Barbarians. Ultimately, he and Shani growing family was a catalyst for their subsequent move to the Waikato, where Aaron initially returned to work at Cambridge High School. Then, in 2005, a friend encouraged him to become part of the Bayleys family – and he’s never looked back. Today, rugby remains part of Aaron’s life. He referees for his local senior premier competition; does TV match official work for the NPC, Super Rugby and international test matches; and thanks to his children, coaches junior rugby too. “I’m passionate about giving back to the game that’s given me so much,” he says.

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Angela Finnigan

Hamilton Before she worked for Bayleys in Hamilton, Angela Finnigan was a high-level equestrian, a role that saw her eventing at England’s famous Badminton, as well as identifying local equine talent and accompanying the promising horses to their new homes in the US, UK, Italy, Ireland and even Tahiti. Although, she says, “That part wasn’t as glamorous as it sounds. I’d be with the horses in cargo planes. On one trip, for example, I was on the same cargo flight as 40 horses. I sat on the floor amongst the hay. It was pretty rough!” In the ’80s, Angela lived in England, where she produced young horses for sale as eventers. She also owned the equine stunner Face the Music, which Mark Todd rode to success at the Burghley Horse Trials in the ’90s. When Angela returned home to New Zealand, it was to Cambridge, where she continued producing young horses, ready for export. Today, her home base is surrounded by racetracks, but her equestrian days are over. “I’m a bit of an all or nothing person, and these days my all is real estate,” she says.

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Rachelle Jackson

Hamilton An invitation to Rachelle Jackson’s for a meal is a covetable prospect. She is from a large “food-focused” family and has been a foodie for as long as she can remember. Rachelle headed straight into the food scene as a school leaver. Armed with a polytechnic qualification, she then spent nine years as a chef in top restaurants in Auckland and Hamilton (a “pretty magical” time as she recalls it) before fulfilling a long-time ambition to open her own café. Circa Espresso was the name of the Hamilton eatery she established at the tender age of 26 and owned for nearly four years, until deciding the hours weren’t compatible with having babies. (It’s now named Scotts Epicurean.) “I had a huge passion for cheffing and culinary culture, and I still have – you don’t get rid of that,” she says. “It’s now a hobby and part of my creative side. Being a foodie is neat – everyone loves you!” The bookshelves in Rachelle’s Hamilton home are laden with cookbooks. She makes everything she can from scratch, is a fan of Italian food and has been dipping into Asian cuisine of late. Oh, and her hero is Al Brown.

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Stephen O’Byrne

Hamilton When you ask Stephen O’Byrne about his past working life, you’d better make yourself comfortable. This Raglan- dwelling Irishman has many a yarn to share, starting with his 15 years as an underwater cameraman in the dive industry. One day, he’d be photographing the sardine run in South Africa, the next, it’d be World War II wrecks in Papua New Guinea, or great whites feeding, coral spawning or turtles mating. The assignments were many and wonderfully diverse, and that’s how he found New Zealand – he was sent here to get footage of the Poor Knights Islands. Stephen’s underwater escapades have also included being a freediving instructor; the chatterbox can hold his own breath for eight minutes. On terra firma, he worked in the merchant banking industry and serious fraud office in London. He established a sports sales business in the UK and worked in e-learning and web management for leading agencies in the Netherlands. His partner in life and work at Bayleys, residential and lifestyle salesperson Michelle, also has an interesting backdrop to her property career that helps set her apart from the pack. While living in London, the Kiwi worked with the Royal Parks police’s mounted department, and was on horseback duty during the Changing of the Guard.

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Matt Clutterbuck

Tauranga From shearing gangs in Northland and his time spent as a rural banking manager to a salmon farm in the Atlantic Ocean, Matt Clutterbuck has tackled an interesting job or two. And that’s not to mention the prestigious sporting accolades he scored along the way. These days, lifestyle and country sales manager Matt lives in Mt Maunganui, but he was raised on a sheep and beef farm in Northland, where work as a shearer served him well during his school and university holidays. He graduated with a Bachelor of Commerce from the University of Otago, but before earning that degree, he acquired a diploma, and between the two had a great gap year in his early twenties, during which he travelled to Ireland, where he played rugby and worked on a salmon farm. Matt has played NPC rugby in Northland and ITM Cup rugby for both his home province and the Bay of Plenty, and another sporting highlight was playing for the All Black Sevens side in 2014. But his prowess extends beyond rugby – he’s also a world-champion waka ama (outrigger canoe) paddler, with gold and bronze medals to prove it.

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Anthony Merrington

Cambridge If Cambridge-based Anthony Merrington suggests joining him in taking out the boat, you’ll be in safe hands. You may not be in for a tame time, though – this sailor has competed at Whitbread and America’s Cup level. At one stage, he had the Olympics in his sights. Anthony, who grew up on Sydney’s northern beaches, has been sailing since he was seven and started competing with his older brother about a year later. Fast-forward a decade or so and he went on to spend 15 years racing yachts around the globe as a professional sailor. He competed in the Ocean Race (formerly the Whitbread Round the World Race) three times – in 2001-2002 with a Swedish team, in 2005-2006 on an American boat, and in 2008-2009 with an Irish team. More action came courtesy of the 2007 America’s Cup campaign in Valencia, where he was part of the Swedish team that made it to the semi-finals. He also fronted up for almost every major international offshore yacht race up until 2009, when he ended his sailing career. Living landlocked in Cambridge is no problem for this Bayleys star. For the past 15 years, he’s competed on the water with teams out of Sydney. He’s tackled five Sydney to Hobart yacht races, winning four times.

Olympic and Commonwealth Games heptathlete Sarah Cowley Ross carves out a new career

WORDS Nicky Adams PHOTOS Graeme Murray + Supplied

The Olympic and Commonwealth Games heptathlete’s journey to redefine herself is about leaning hard into her core values and carving out a career where sport still takes the centre stage.

To reach the standard required to represent your country as an Olympic and Commonwealth Games athlete is extraordinary. To reach that standard across multiple disciplines is, in my view, verging on superhuman. To be so talented, disciplined and dedicated, and still be a well-balanced, grounded and thoroughly lovely person – surely that’s impossible? Apparently not.

Aotearoa heptathlete Sarah Cowley Ross is all of the above and more. If you’re a little hazy as to what a heptathlon actually involves, to clarify, it’s a combination of track and field events that requires both speed and power. Over a period of two days, athletes compete in a total of seven events: A 200m and 800m run, the 100m hurdles, and the high jump, long jump, shot put and javelin. Heptathletes are given points for their best performance in each, then ranked according to the highest overall score.

Sarah competed in the heptathlon event at the London 2012 Olympics, where she placed 26th out of 38, having previously placed 10th out of 12 at the 2006 Commonwealth Games in Melbourne. At the 2014 Commonwealth Games in Glasgow, she narrowed it down to the high jump, placing ninth out of 24. Although these are the events that have garnered her the most attention, they’re only the pinnacle of myriad incredible achievements during the course of her career.

I’d presumed the world-class athlete would be a certain type of person, perhaps buzzing with pent-up energy. In fact, I found her to be warm, relaxed and only identifiable as an athlete by her long, lithe legs and an aura of fitness I sometimes fantasise about possessing myself. So deceptive is her demeanour, it’s hard to imagine her out on the field, mentally slaying her opponents one by one.

With a smile, Sarah tells me, “A lot of times people have said, ‘You’re too nice to win – you’ve got to be more mongrel.’ But I can turn it on and off when I need to. I’m very competitive. I always want to win, but that’s changed in the sense that I’m quite comfortable with who I am, so I don’t need to win Pictionary every time! I’ve also changed in that now I want to win for the collective – for communities.”

Sarah was born and raised in Rotorua; her mother Robyn Cowley is New Zealand European and her father Jerry Cowley moved to New Zealand from Samoa when he was seven. Sport was always an integral part of family life; Jerry (who sadly passed away when Sarah was 19) represented New Zealand in basketball, and her brothers Garrick and Richard are also blessed with more than their fair share of sporting prowess. Sarah says that when they were children, there was an expectation that they incorporate sport into their daily life, but not at the expense of other things.

“Looking back, we were allowed to be kids, and play was a big part of our lives. I was just fortunate that I had brothers who were better than me physically and who unconsciously pushed me. I was just always trying to keep up. Later, they’d join in my training sessions. My brothers are two of my closest friends, and when I reflect on my journey, it’s been a family one.”

By the time Sarah reached intermediate, she was keen to shine at netball. In fact, it was her love of netball that initially sparked her passion for sport. “I really wanted to be a Silver Fern – Bernice Mene was a hero to me. Half Samoan, she played netball and did athletics at a young age, and that was it – I wanted to be her. When I was 12, I went on my first representative trip to Dunedin and sat next to her on the plane, which was amazing. Then she came and watched us compete; she’d been in the same competition when she was young. Seeing your heroes is powerful – and Sandra Edge and Chantal Brunner are others I really looked to as well.”

At high school, it was clear that rather than just excellent, Sarah was gifted. She began representing New Zealand at 16, and life became very busy with events and the overseas travel that came with it. That’s not to say her studies took a back seat, though. “I was never not expected to go to university,” says Sarah. “Sport is a vehicle. I got awarded the Prime Minister’s Scholarship, which funded two degrees, and I would’ve preferred to have been training. But I know the value of education, so I got a Bachelor of Health Sciences so I can work as a physiotherapist, and I’ve also got a BA in Communications.”

It’s hard not to be blown away by the sheer commitment that would have been involved in juggling study and part-time work with training and competing as a heptathlete, which is essentially a case of taking the top level of each code and multiplying the expectation by seven. The sheer physicality involved is mind-blowing, and alongside this the mental capacity required to keep up the momentum not just for a short burst, but for 48 hours. Adding into the mix the recovery time for each event and the fact that different sports are known to “peak” at different ages, how is it possible to excel?! I feel exhausted even contemplating it.

“It would’ve been a lot easier to pick one sport,” admits Sarah. “When I was eight, I watched the 1992 Olympics and I knew that’s what I wanted to do. My greatest potential in athletics was heptathlon as I was a natural jumper. I was resistant for a long time because I knew it would be hard and I’m not naturally a thrower, but in 2005 I roomed with a heptathlete and realised it was what I was most suited to. Five months later, I made the Commonwealth Games.”

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Throughout this time, neither Sarah’s dedication nor her family’s support wavered, something that brought both amazing highs and undeniable lows. “Everything was focussed on the performance,” she says. “My friends were buying houses and I had a dollar in my bank account because I’d spent it all on supplements and massages. There were times when I was like, ‘I’m 28 and I haven’t done what I want in athletics yet, I’m single – what am I going to do with my life?’ You finish in your 30s with a lot of great skills but very little job experience.”

Still, Sarah says her ultimate high was when she qualified for the Olympics in Götzis, Austria. “I knew I was in good shape, but a really significant moment was in the high jump when I jumped 191; at the time my best had been 184. I was really free. For a long time, I’d put a handbrake on my life, and for the five years previous I hadn’t improved in the way I wanted to. For a long time, something had been holding me back. A year before, I probably wanted to quit, but I managed to turn it around, and in that high jump I finally unleashed what I was physically capable of. It was one of the purest moments of my life.”

The decision to step away from the world of international athletics in 2014 was similarly momentous, but at the same time natural. There was no big blow-out, no horrendous injury – the timing just seemed right. “I felt done,” says Sarah. “I was 30 and it seemed like a good time to retire. I got married the next year and in 2015 we had our first child, Max.” He was followed by daughter Poppy two years later. Nevertheless, going from training for five hours a day to a desk job was a huge shift, which Sarah says she struggled with.

“For so long in my life, I knew what I was aiming for, so to then have a blank canvas was hard. Immediately after retirement, I worked in marketing for one of my sponsors, Asics, and I loved the job, but I wasn’t expressing my physical gifts through a sport I love with people I love around me. And not being outside was a massive thing too.” Part of Sarah’s journey became identifying a new set of goals to satisfy her competitive nature. The excitement of becoming a mother was also part of the process, and the physical changes of pregnancy meant another mental shift. “It was a transition out of elite sport and out of a body I was used to being in, so I didn’t recognise myself,” says Sarah. “In some ways, it was a release for me to eat anything because I’d been on a performance diet.”

Fuelling her body differently was freeing, “but liberation created a disconnect about who I was and who I was becoming. I had no control – well, I had control over the chip packet! – but not over what was happening to my body.” Throughout this challenging period, Sarah was supported by her husband Angus Ross, a former Olympic sportsman who competed in bobsleigh events. Now a sports scientist, Angus was the perfect person to guide her on what she needed to do to stay well and nurture herself.

For the past few years, Sarah has been on a journey to redefine who she is. Her days are very different and elements of her psyche have undoubtedly changed, but acknowledging her core values has been central to her next chapter. “Self- acceptance became a really big part of who I wanted to be,” she says. “I ‘do’ athletics, but it’s not who I am. There’s a lot more to me than I realised, and sport is a mechanism for living my values, which are legacy, and love and courage.”

These days, Sarah says, her life is like a heptathlon. She’s equally passionate about all her projects, including Olympics- related governance positions, work as a marriage celebrant and as a columnist for online forum LockerRoom (at newsroom. co.nz), for which she exclusively covers women, advocating for them in sport. “I’m really grateful to shine a light on people and provide a platform for these stories to be heard,” Sarah says. As she well knows, it’s vital that young athletes coming through the ranks can find someone to identify with. “I know the power of seeing women in sport.” Sarah also acts as an Olympic ambassador in schools. Through talking about her own journey, she brings the Olympics to life for our youth and encourages kids to be active.

An exciting upcoming role is covering the Tokyo 2021 Olympic Games for TVNZ. Sarah’s thrilled to be a part of this; she’d watch the Olympics regardless, but in this capacity she gets to communicate what’s going on to our whole country. Plus, she says, she’s constantly looking for ways to stretch herself, and the buzz of live TV is similar to the rush of competing.

Despite moving out of the international arena, Sarah certainly hasn’t left sport, and still trains for and competes in triple jump events. “In 2017, I needed something to train for,” she says. “I always really wanted to do the triple jump, and I was highest ranked in Aotearoa. After I had Poppy, I thought I’d try it again, so last year I did and came second at the Nationals. This year, I had a back injury and got third.”

I marvel that she can switch back to the training and diet regime required. “It’s amazing that I still have that,” she concedes. “I can still turn it on. Saying no to things I know won’t help me is empowering.” That’s just another reason why Olympian Sarah Cowley Ross is a cut above the rest.

You can follow Sarah’s behind the scenes journey covering the Olympics on Instagram: @SARAHCOWLEYROSS

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Tokyo 2020 TVNZ Presenter

“For the Tokyo 2020 Olympics, I’m excited to be presenting alongside Toni Street and Scotty Stevenson on TVNZ. We’ll bring all the top sporting moments to you every hour, as they happen. All the Kiwi news and more will be beamed straight back into our homes in Aotearoa. I’ll be cheering on my friends like Emma Twiggs in the sngle skulls. and all my sisters in the Black Ferms sevens team. And, of course, I can’t wait to see how the athletics events unfold.”

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Governance roles

“A significant part of my work right now is as a board member of the New Zealand Olympic Committee and as chair of the NZOC Athletes’ Commission. The advocacy work in this role has created meaningful change for Team Aotearoa and the wider sports high-performance system. I enable athletes’ voices to come through the commission and into the boardroom. Athletes are very goal-oriented people, and want to see action come out of mahi. It’s vital they see their opinions being voiced.”

The Olympians of UNO: a look back at the stories from some of our local sporting heroes

Sarah Hirini (neé Goss)

Sarah Hirini (Goss) carried the flag for New Zealand in the Tokyo 2020 Olympics opening ceremony and is playing in our women’s sevens rugby team but back in 2017 she was on the cover of UNO Magazine.

“It meant I was able to play whatever sport I wanted without my parents having to drive me around everywhere. It was all just there”. Gymnastics and netball transitioned into competitive hockey, and ultimately rugby in her final year at school. At the time, Sarah’s coach had recommended taking up rugby to help improve her fitness for hockey but she soon found the full contact and competitiveness of 15-aside rugby much more stimulating than hockey and as a result, traded her hockey stick for a pair of rugby boots. However, it was not a completely smooth transition into her newfound passion.

“I hid it from my parents for about three months, thinking they were going to tell me off for playing rugby. I felt like back then, there wasn’t much support for women’s rugby despite my family being massive rugby supporters.” But once Sarah decided to tell her parents of her new secret love, they were only disappointed they had missed watching her games and according to Sarah, “they’ve watched me ever since. I remember telling my parents back in the seventh form when they asked what I was going to do the following year and I remember saying I’m going to become a professional rugby player and back then they kind of laughed, but I am someone who will just go after it and I will do everything I can to prove people wrong. I’m stubborn, and it ended up happening.”

Read the full story on Sarah’s rise within rugby.

Peter Burling

Peter Burling has reached incredible heights since his cover story in UNO in spring 2017 and is currently sailing in Tokyo.

“At the Olympic level,” he says, “a lot of it is just a seat-of-your-pants kind of thing, because today you have a single platform that you can’t really change or improve.”

This is, after all, essentially a one-design race and everyone uses virtually identical equipment, so – as Burling says – “It’s a question of how you set it up and how well you can sail it!” But in something like the America’s Cup it’s different; the variables are almost infinite and change – literally – by the hour. And in that fast moving, high-tech environment, knowledge is power.

“I’ve always really liked the engineering side of sailing,” he says, “ever since I was a little kid and making things and trying things on the boats. I’ve always been quite pedantic on having a really clean and well-thought- out boat, not having anything on there that doesn’t need to be there, and having it all neat and tidy.”

Read Peter’s full story here.

Matt Scorringe

The New Zealand Olympic surfing team’s head coach graced the cover of UNO back in summer 2020.

One of the drivers of that change has been the acceptance of surfing as an Olympic sport. “Surfing,” says Matt, “particularly in New Zealand, is still seen differently to other major sports – and the Olympics will change that. It will mean we start to take things seriously and start working towards finding the best path for our athletes at Olympic level.  I’ve talked with friends in snowboarding and other sports that have recently been made Olympic sports and they all say it takes time. It’s like the chicken and the egg – you need funding to get results, you need results to get funding – but it’s great to see that we’re off to a really good start with two athletes going to Tokyo.”

Matt’s role in preparing those Olympic contenders has been as head coach of the development pathways programme he helped put together to get our surfers up to Olympic qualifying level, and he’s more than happy with the results. “We’ve now got two athletes qualified for the 2020 Olympics – Billy Simon from Raglan and Ella Williams from Whangamata – who both came through that programme. Now we just need to get some more structures and mechanisms in place to support them and the sport. At that level, you don’t spend a lot of time at home; you’re travelling all the time, so you need coaches, nutritionists and all the support required on different continents. Part of what I’m doing is not just bringing my knowledge but the connections and contacts to make it easier.”

Read Matt’s story here.

Sarah Cowley Ross

Our most recent cover star, Olympic and Commonwealth Games heptathlete Sarah Cowley Ross is currently a huge presence in media coverage of the Games.

Sarah says her ultimate high was when she qualified for the Olympics in Götzis, Austria. “I knew I was in good shape, but a really significant moment was in the high jump when I jumped 191; at the time my best had been 184. I was really free. For a long time, I’d put a handbrake on my life, and for the five years previous I hadn’t improved in the way I wanted to.

A year before, I probably wanted to quit, but I managed to turn it around, and in that high jump I finally unleashed what I was physically capable of. It was one of the purest moments of my life.”

Read Sarah’s full story from the latest issue of UNO here.

Entrepreneur and disability advocate Charmeyne Te-Nana Williams

Entrepreneur and disability advocate Charmeyne employs over 200 people to support people with disabilities, like her husband, Peter who suffered a brain injury in a boxing match. Whatever It Takes is a fitting name for her business, and the way Charmeyne approaches life. She lives between Mt Maunganui and Auckland.

PHOTOS Garth Badger WORDS Jenny Rudd

At a recent event for our speaker series, This Is How I Did It, Charmeyne told us the incredible story of how her husband Peter Williams’ brain injury and resulting tetraplegia has shaped her life. 

Charmeyne and Peter had baby twin girls, who'd just arrived home from a 5-month hospital stay after their premature birth. And four weeks earlier, the couple had buried their son who passed away after being born at 26 weeks. Charmeyne was at home with their daughters in Auckland, on maternity leave for a job she loved at New Zealand Trade and Enterprise in the Māori enterprise team. Peter was down in Timaru at a boxing match, on his path to his plan to qualify for the Olympics. He'd previously won the world title for waka ama (canoe racing) in Tahiti. He was strong, athletic, and world class at the disciplines he put his mind to. He called Charmeyne and announced "I won, so I'm now the New Zealand Super Heavyweight Champion. I just need to go and do a drug test, then I'll call you back."

But he didn't call back. One of his teammates did. Charmeyne said it wasn't what he said that was worrying, it was what he couldn't say. He could barely get the words out. Peter had suffered a traumatic brain injury which left him a tetraplegic.

Her story was so inspiring, we knew we couldn’t leave it in the room. 

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I remember the day Peter went down to Timaru like it was yesterday. It was labour weekend in 2002. That morning, we'd talked about what we had dreamt the night before. We often did that. He said "I dreamt that my spirit had left my body and it was flying across Samoa.”

After I'd spoken to Peter when he won, I remember being so excited. I thought he hadn't rung back because he was out celebrating. Then his teammate called me and said "You need to get down here." At that point I had no idea what that meant. I didn’t know what I was walking into. 

I’ve been so lucky and blessed, because my family has been amazing. My sister was staying with us at the time and she looked after our babies. I jumped on a plane and went down to Timaru. 

Since that day, my life has really been in stages. Stage one was going down to Timaru. 

STAGE ONE

The Rude Awakening

Some of the questions that came to mind at this time were: What the hell is a traumatic brain injury? I had no idea. I had never worried about Peter because he was so strong.

What the hell is this health system? I had no idea what I was walking into. I went into the hospital, he was in ICU and I just didn’t know what to expect. We weren’t allowed to stay there, so that was really daunting for me. 

If it wasn’t enough that we were trying to deal with what was going on with Peter, it was all over the news. My brother rang me up and said, “Have you seen the newspaper?” On a front page was an article that said Peter was actually a Black Power member and had sustained his brain injury through an initiation. So he’s trying to fight for his life and here’s this article on the front page. Where did that even come from?

I rang a friend of mine whose husband was an All Black who’d had some bad publicity, and he put me onto his lawyer who represented us for nothing. We went to court to get them to retract what they'd printed.

By this time, I had to send my girls off, at eight months old, to live with their grandparents in Wellington so that I could work out how to help Peter. Thank god for my whānau, because if it wasn’t for them, I’d never have been able to get through these early stages.

STAGE TWO

The BS

I thought the system would focus on what's best for Peter, me and our whānau. But it didn't feel like that at all. You'd think you’d go from stage to stage – from hospital, to rehab, to home but, actually, it's not that way. Every time I went to another stage of what I thought was our recovery, it was just the same shit on a different day. All I knew was that I loved this man and wanted to keep my family together – that was my priority.

It wasn't just the medical system either, it was our society. Arriving in Auckland, a friend asked me if I was going to stay with Peter as a partner. I was shocked. They asked if I really knew what I was getting myself in for.

We left Timaru after a month and moved into ICU in Auckland for a month, then Peter moved to a rehab facility in West Auckland just before Christmas 2002. I thought that was going to be awesome, but it was really bad. The staff weren’t used to family members sticking around, but I was there every day. I became known as ‘the bitch’ – true story. In my mind I couldn’t understand why, because I was just trying to figure out how I could make sure that Peter was well looked after. What I started to realise was that everyone was doing what they thought was best, as opposed to what was best for me and my family. 

Trying to find financial support to keep my family going was really difficult. When my maternity leave was over and I had to go back to work, I thought I’d go to Work & Income to get help with child support but was told I wasn't eligible because I was earning too much. I’m on $50k and I’ve got an adult who has a serious disability and two children. How is that a high income?

Then I was offered redundancy, which I took, because it meant I could go on benefit. I fought with my pride. I had never been on a benefit. But I knew that if I didn't, it was really going to affect my family's well being and my ability to care for them. I was exhausted and I needed to, so I did. And rather than pay me the extra $100 a week on top of my wages I could have been earning, they paid me about $70,000 a year to be on benefit and to support my kids. That seemed dumb! 

You expect and trust that the experts are giving you the right advice, but I learned that that’s not the case. I found out some time later that Peter had been eligible for child support the whole time. We had to go to court to recoup it. What a waste of time and money for everyone involved.

STAGE THREE

Kete of knowledge

Finally, the penny dropped. When you’re in a rehab facility, you have a multidisciplinary team. You go to these whānau meetings and sometimes you might be the only member of the whānau with 12 clinicians around the table, who are all telling you what you should do. I was in one of these meetings and everyone was talking about how aggressive I was. I could feel myself shrinking into a corner in the chair, just fading away. My cousin was sitting next to me and she said, “You know, what some people would describe as aggressive, others would describe as proactive”. That was a turning point for me. I thought, that's right. I’m being proactive. I’m not being aggressive, I’m just fighting for what I know is right.

From then on, I started to listen, observe and figure out the things that Peter would respond well to in terms of his rehab. I thought about how I could take all these little bits of advice and information and fill up my kete of knowledge to move forward for Peter.

As well as learning from the model he was under, I looked around the world for different care models that fit what I believed he needed.

My aunty, who’s Māori and a social worker, said, “Have a look at this and tell me what you think.” It was a Māori model of care called Te Aho Takitoru which had been developed by her team as a social work kaupapa. What really jumped out to me was that the mana of the person being cared for was at the core. Reading it solidified in my mind what I have been trying to do since Peter's accident - I was fighting for the mana of this man. I just wanted him to be recognised as the man of the family, as a dad and as a partner. That’s all I was asking – nothing more and nothing less.

STAGE FOUR

Home is where the heart is

I thought going home was going to be easy – but it wasn’t. Having been in hospital and rehab for nearly three years, we’d applied to ACC to fund the modifications we needed for Peter to live at home. It was just before Christmas and I got a reply from ACC saying they’d declined our application. The application had taken forever, and they'd said no. I felt it was because they were solely looking at the injury and how to manage that injury. It was being done adequately, they felt, in the rehab centre. I could see though that there was so much more to the picture surrounding Peter's injury. What about his well-being, his wairua (spirit) and the mental health of my family as a result of the care decisions?

When ACC turned down our application, I thought if I don’t do something now, my family is just not going to survive this. 

My brother-in-law worked for 60 Minutes and asked if they could do a story on us. I had turned down offers like this in the past, but I was desperate. So I said ok on the condition that Peter's integrity was maintained, and that the focus should be on getting Peter home.

At one stage during the research, I could see there was some focus on the fictitious Black Power connection. So I went marching up to the Black Power pad in Mt Wellington, knocked on the door and asked their leader to speak on 60 Minutes and set the record straight that Peter was not connected to them.

In the end, the show only talked about ACC for about a minute and how our application had been declined. It took three years for them to decline it, and honestly about two days to approve it.

Finally, we were going home. I got so excited. But we then headed into a new world. The world of agencies. In 18 months, we had around a hundred people come through my house. My girls were verbally abused, and Peter was physically and sexually abused. We went through another grueling court process to bring the sexual abuser to justice, but she got off on a technicality. That whole process was so traumatising for me. It was like I was the criminal. This woman wasn’t held accountable in any way, shape or form, and neither was the agency. That was it. No more. I had to take all my learnings and bring them together to provide a new model.

We weren't the only family going through this either. I knew there were others looking for the same as us, so I put together a business proposal to set up a programme bringing together everything I learnt from Te Aho Takitoru, my research and experience in hospital, at the rehab facility, and the agencies.

Ten years after Peter's accident, I set up What Ever It Takes, a home-based rehabilitation service.

STAGE FIVE

Doing Whatever It Takes

Our vision for our company was to set the standard internationally for how we care for families, regardless of their situation. 

The biggest difference between a mainstream clinical approach and the Māori model we use, is we take into consideration all aspects of what’s going on in the whānau’s lives. A mainstream model looks at what's best for that injury in isolation. But that’s not reality for our families. We don't focus just on physical things like the brain or the spine. This person lives at home with a whole family, so we consider that whole picture. What help do they need to access their entitlements? What is the best wrap-around care that this particular family needs? How does the family operate? What are their dynamics? What are their values? What do they need to support them to live how they want to live?

We work mainly with Māori and Pacific Island whānau. They’re already compromised and they’re further compromised with this disability. I’m a supporter of whānau looking after whānau. I think if you want your whānau member to look after you, then let them look after you. There have been lots of debates about whether whānau members take advantage of the situation, but that’s really not my experience.

Our business model has allowed us to really flourish through the lockdown periods. We’re essential services, but we have a single team for each whānau we look after, so during lockdown we went right back to our aspirational goals and how we were going to do that within the confines of our four walls.

Each time my company gets audited, we receive continuous improvement on continuous improvement. That’s not just great, that’s exceptional in our sector. My goal is to create pathways for the future. I want us to be able to really pave the way for other organisations to come in and support families. 

STAGE SIX

A deep breath

When my girls were at intermediate school, I realised that I had become so absorbed with what was going on for Peter that I was being counterproductive. That's when I started to think about my happiness. All they’d known their whole life was this environment of conflict where I'd been fighting for Peter. It was incredibly hard, but I moved out. It was the right thing for Peter to be able to work with his team from then on, and for our girls, and me.

My journey continues. It's been 18 years and time moves on. My father and my grandmother have passed away. My twins are leaving school. 

I never thought that I’d meet somebody or fall in love, but I have. I’ve had feelings of guilt, but Peter and I were only young when this happened; he was 27. I’ve always committed to being married to Peter. But I got to a point where I thought, I don’t want to die wondering if there could have been more.

When we first met, Rob said to me, “I need to tell you something, I’m having a baby,” and I went, “Oh well, I’m married. I’ll have your baby if you have my husband.” And he goes, “Sweet.” So that’s been the basis of our family. We have five kids now with our big, beautiful, blended whānau. We have all this extended whānau on Rob’s side, and we have Peter and our extended whānau on my side, including Peter’s two sons Puna ma Faleasi and Siagogo. 

It's unconventional, but it works because we make it work. I feel that’s probably my biggest learning: you just have to make things work.

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No reira ngā mihi nui, ki a koutou. Mo te whakarongo mai ki ahau. Thank you for listening to me. Go home and tell the people that you love how much you love them. I’ve learnt how to care for my family and it's the pathway that I intend to to follow forever more.

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What Ever It Takes

There's such determination in the name of Charmeyne Te Nana-Williams's business. And love, when you consider who the beneficiaries are of this determination. What Ever It Takes employs over 200 people across the North Island to deliver a programme of home-based care for people with severe and complex disabilities. What makes it different is the whanāu-centred approach. The family is involved in all aspects of the care, because Whatever It Takes looks at the needs of the whole family, rather than keeping the spotlight on just the injury.

This programme has been developed by Charmeyne and her team to give control, mana and quality of life to those suffering from and affected by major brain traumas and other life-changing disabilities. Their struggle to be allowed to take Peter home to care for him showed Charmeyne that there was a need for a different model of care.

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Life’s a beach at Twinkle Twinkle

A pirate ship, a submarine, and an ice-cream truck – this early childhood centre is made for little imaginations.

Words Monique Balvert-O'Connor Photos Supplied

Every day is summertime at Twinkle Twinkle Early Learning and Childcare Centre, Mount Maunganui’s new beach-themed early childhood facility. It’s the perfect setting for owner and managing director Rosie Crombie and her team to combine their love for the local community and their expertise in early learning.

Rosie’s own childhood was spent in Tauranga, with Mount Maunganui Beach her family’s treasured holiday spot. Inspiration for Twinkle Twinkle came from those wonderful memories. “I was keen to create something that represents what the Mount means to me – water, sand and sunny days,” says Rosie. The centre’s location in the heart of the Mount ensured the beach theme was fitting.

Twinkle Twinkle, which opened in March, is a lively space that prides itself on providing an environment rich in opportunities. It’s a purpose-built new facility with a number of custom-made props and learning materials. Rosie has a creative focus and high standards; for example, the pirate ship in the outdoor area was designed by the set creators from The Hobbit.

“The pirate ship incorporates all sorts of climbing, crawling and jumping opportunities to extend children’s physical capabilities while feeding their sense of fun and adventure,” says Rosie. 

Outside, the sandpit is super-sized, and a thatched bure roof provides a shady spot for imaginative play. Beach-themed pictures of deck chairs, sunshine, shells and sea creatures adorn cupboard fronts. 

Inside the centre, the ice-cream truck (complete with wooden ice creams and a number plate that reads TW1NKL) is a magnet for children over age two, while the submarine is a fun attraction for the younger toddlers.

The children are also delighted by the dolphin cut-out, palm tree, surfboard rack for dress-up clothes, and fish tank featuring a shipwreck. 

Children equate the beach with happiness, and indications are the same thing can be said of Twinkle Twinkle. “The feedback we get from families is that we provide a service that makes their children’s lives – and their lives – better,” says Rosie. “Our driving force is to provide high-quality care and an impressive education programme for children, and to make life easier for families.”

“I am passionate about providing a support network for families,” adds Rosie. “I believe that when children are happy, families are happy.”

This philosophy sees Rosie working closely alongside her team, striving to deliver everything needed so they can provide quality care and be happy in their work. “If my staff are happy, that transfers to the children, and then to their families,” explains Rosie.

Also pleasing is the centre’s early learning programme, with its focus on putting individuals at the centre of their learning experiences. 

“We observe their interests and plan how best to extend those experiences holistically. And when children turn four, we help transition them to be school-ready,” says Rosie.

Rosie’s time with the children at Twinkle Twinkle is hands-on when needed. She also manages the centre, oversees administrative and compliance requirements, connects with families, and generally ensures things run smoothly. 

Rosie has a Bachelor of Management degree and her working life has included roles in governance and human resources with the Kindergarten Association. A mother of two sons, and wife to Craig, she started her first early childcare centre nine years ago, selling it to establish Twinkle Twinkle.

“My journey with Twinkle Twinkle is hugely rewarding,” says Rosie.

Located at 413 Mount Maunganui Road, Twinkle Twinkle’s capacity is for 15 under-twos and 45 over-twos. Some places are still available – visit twinkletwinkle.co.nz or check out Twinkle Twinkle’s cheerful Facebook page to find out more.

Diane and Ashleigh Davidson of EVES talk teamwork

WORDS Nicky Adams PHOTOS Salina Galvan

Diane Davidson loves her daughter Ashleigh. “But,” she says, “the thing is, I also really like her as a person.” 

Together, Diane and Ashleigh are Davidson & Co, real estate agents who operate under the EVES banner. Although husband and wife partnerships are common in real estate, it’s rarer to see mother-daughter duos, but its clear this pair have such an easy rapport that helps them work so well together. Explaining the reasons that she thinks the dynamic is so successful, Diane continues, “Importantly, we’re very much on the same page as far as values and goals go. There’s an automatic trust.” 

Having started her career in Auckland before moving to Tauranga 20 years ago, Diane has been in real estate for 25 years. Ashleigh is newer to the role. After completing a degree in communications, she moved into marketing and PR. Working for a couple of high-profile international companies, she loved what she was doing, but says “it never felt quite right. With real estate, though, I can use my marketing and communications skills, and every day is different.”

Despite having grown up immersed in real estate (Ashleigh’s dad Alan is also an agent of 30 years and now works part-time as part of the small, tight team), Ashleigh needed to complete her papers before she could become an agent herself, then prove her passion came with ability. In doing so, it quickly became apparent that she’d found her calling.

Dynamic duo

Diane and Ashleigh complement each other perfectly in many more ways than one. Diane has a strong moral compass and belief in old-school real estate values – for her it’s about telling the truth and helping people to achieve their goals, whether that’s finding a property within their price range or getting the best price possible for their home. 

Ashleigh shares her sentiments and brings to the table a skill set that’s in keeping with buying and selling in the technological age; her videos and online marketing campaigns speak for themselves. Diane says she admires Ashleigh’s abilities. She laughs when she recalls that long before her daughter became an agent, she insisted that Diane needed to start using social media as a selling forum. “When Ash was still living overseas, she told me I needed to be putting something on Facebook, so I posted about a pair of shoes. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I meant something relevant to real estate!’”

Diane might leave the more complex tech to Ashleigh, yet her expertise in her field is beyond impressive. She’s naturally warm and engaging, but when it comes to work, she gets down to business. Diane has strategies that – evidenced by her excellent reputation and number of repeat clients – work exceptionally well, and Ashleigh, who has the same affinity with people, is similarly focused when it comes to the job at hand. 

Extensive experience

As agents, these women do a lot of prospecting, and with that comes plenty of stock. Diane’s extensive experience has taught her that no matter what the market, auctions are almost always the best way to achieve the desired result; however, she doesn’t take credit for the incredible sales prices they’ve reached, instead pointing to the skill of the auctioneer, which she believes is absolutely crucial. The phenomenal auctioneer, Grant Child, they work with is one of the reasons she and Ashleigh love being part of the EVES family. 

Another bonus aspect of being under EVES’ wing is its free comprehensive marketing plan – although this is an area where Davidson & Co offer exceptional value, through Ashleigh’s marketing talents, as she’s able to tailor plans to suit specific demographics. The social media whizz is also a proponent of print, which she believes remains an invaluable medium. In fact, she says that just the other day, “a lovely lady brought along a cut-out of a property. Print is definitely not dead. We know we have more people at an open home when it’s in print.” 

With Diane and Ashleigh, there’s strategy at every stage, but no pressure. “We’d rather not get the listing than put anyone under pressure,” says Diane. “We under-promise, then do everything we can to overdeliver.”

For Davidson & Co, the keyword is ‘integrity’. It’s not about their egos or position on the awards chart, which is ironic given Diane is a multi-award-winner. For Diane and Ashleigh, it’s about what’s best for the client. “I’ve always said, ‘If it ever becomes about me, tell me and I’ll get out,’” says Diane. “That still holds true today.”

EVES.CO.NZ

The powerhouse partnership revolutionising real estate in Rotorua

WORDS Katy Glenie PHOTOS Salina Galvan

For nearly five years, two Rotorua real estate salespeople have been hitting top-selling prices in street after street. In fact, Jodi Ratahi and Kerif Smerdon of EVES Realty have been so successful, they achieved recognition in the top five percent of EVES estate salespeople for 2019/20.

The pair became a partnership after working together on a joint listing and enjoying each other’s style and ethos. “We both come from very supportive families that have enabled us to be focused and driven,” says Jodi. “The addition to the team was bringing on board our lovely PA Heather MaGuire in the first year of our partnership. We so appreciate her loyalty, encouragement and dedication – we love her dearly.”

Both Jodi and Kerif started working at a young age, with people from all walks of life. They learnt the importance of customer service and attention to detail, which they’ve found ultimately generates repeat business. Keeping true to these fundamental values is what drives them today.

The powerful duo have been selling homes together for almost five years, which is unusual for real-estate partnerships. “We each bring different strengths to the team,” says Kerif. “Working in this way makes a huge difference. We’re also one of the only Māori business partnerships in the industry in our city, and we’re very proud of that. Nāu te rourou, nāku te rourou, ka ora ai te iwi – everybody has something to offer, and by working together we can all flourish.”

Rotorua historically undervalued

Jodi and Kerif believe the Rotorua market has been historically undervalued, and this has fuelled their focus on achieving high sale prices for their clients. “Our pricing evaluations are incredibly accurate,” says Jodi. “Based on previous transactions, we can demonstrate to our vendors that around 95 percent of our properties sell within or well above our appraisal range.”

Believing that their success comes from their trust in each other and their genuine concern for their clients, Jodi says, “Our best possible outcome is when a buyer walks in paying what they want, and a vendor walks out getting what they want. We treat our clients how we’d want to be treated.”

Smooth process

Their experience with property transactions gives these women the expertise to guide clients through transactions, helping smooth out the sale process despite changing bank and legislative requirements. They’re also members of the Federation of Māori Authorities, and support a number of local schools and kura kaupapa in the area because as Kerif says, “Ehara taku toai te toa takitahi. Engari, he toa takitini. Success is not the work of an individual, but the work of many.”

After a careful selection process to find the best salespeople to sell their property, Maxine and Roger Houkamau are two vendors who decided that Jodi and Kerif stood out from the rest. “Jodi, Kerif and their support team are experienced, professional and personable – we loved their friendly, honest and consultative approach,” says Maxine. “They took the time to truly understand our needs, carefully advised us on property presentation ideas to maximise the sale and provided excellent insights about the market, including upcoming developments. They then sold our property above asking price in just a few weeks after listing.” 

Rapid growth in market

Real estate sales in Rotorua have been strong throughout 2020. The market has experienced rapid growth, with median prices rising 9 percent in June 2020 compared with a year earlier* and by over 40 percent in the last three years**. “Things have really stepped up a notch since the national lockdown,” says Kerif. “We were already seeing more activity in the market at the start of the year – now with the current financial climate, activity has increased, wand buyers on all spectrums are contacting us for their real estate needs.”

Jodi and Kerif are strong advocates for Rotorua. “Our city is beautiful, with lots of activities to attract people, such as world-class trout fishing, superb mountain biking and walking tracks, our incredible redwood forest and thermal wonderland, and there are lots of free events for families,” says Jodi. “It’s a place that really looks after people, and we love it!” 

EVES.CO.NZ

*Infometrics Rotorua District Quarterly Economic Monitor June 2020 

**One Roof Property Report Dec 2019 

Turning accomplished surfers into frothing groms

Catch the wave with a Mount man who’s thrilled to have found his passion and to be helping others find it too.

WORDS + PHOTOS Katie Cox

In July 2016, Mt Maunganui’s Geoff Cox had been working as a videographer in the film and television industry for nearly two decades when he disappeared into his shed. Three days and much tinkering later, he emerged with a prototype of a foilboard he’d shaped. Cut to today and he’s working with Signature Performance Gear to help surfers all over the world take wave-riding to a new dimension. 

Getting with it

Not even sure what a foilboard is? It’s sort of like a surfboard but with a hydrofoil that extends down into the water. “To put it simply, it’s a glider flying underwater,” says Geoff. “Just like an aeroplane wing, there’s a foil section that generates lift when you’re moving forward. The unique element of surf foiling is that all of the energy comes from the wave – no kite, no sail, no motor. One of the most rewarding things about surf foiling is learning to feel that energy and get better at finding and using it.”

Geoff was inspired to become a shaper by watching Hawaiian surfer Kai Lenny paddle in on a foil. “It was the first time I’d seen surf foiling not involving jet skis and tow ropes and all of those layers of complexity that make it less accessible. To me, it looked like the ultimate evolution of wave riding.” 

The first few foils he shaped were totally experimental; there were very few surf foils on the market and he hadn’t seen any in person. “There were foils that were made for kite foiling, but they weren't fit for the purpose of foil surfing,” he recalls. 

Refining the process

In the beginning, Geoff’s process was labour- and time-intensive, much like hand-shaping a surfboard. “I started with a hand-cut foam core that was then hand-laminated in carbon and epoxy,” he says. “It involved lots of sanding and there was a lot of inaccuracy in the design.” 

But things got better. As part of his design background, Geoff had always been conversant in computer-animated design (CAD), so he started designing his foils that way. “I built a 3D printer that allowed me to very accurately create my CAD designs as 3D-printed molds, which I’d then use to lay up the foils in,” he says. “This accuracy allowed me to repeat designs while changing and refining features to get the performance I was after.” 

Three years on from his first foray, in late 2019, Geoff was entertaining the idea of producing a small run of his foils and testing the market to see if it was worth pursuing further. While communicating with a composite factory about manufacturing them, his contact at the factory mentioned that he knew of a global surf brand that was looking for foil designers to help them develop their existing offerings. That company was Signature Performance Gear.

“He connected us and it went from there,” says Geoff. “The SPG family are an amazing group of people and I’m so stoked to be part of the team. I could not have found a better brand to get involved with.”

Moving on up

The wing Geoff designed for Signature Performance Gear has been met with rave reviews worldwide by some of the major influencers in the sport. “Part of what I did for Signature was update the existing range into a modular system, which involved redesigning every component – the mast, fuselage, tails and existing wings,” says Geoff. “The second part was adding my model, called the GameChanger, to the range.” 

Building moulds for commercial production is an expensive process, but Signature invested in Geoff’s model fully trusting it was a good design. “I’d just returned from Tahiti, where I’d surfed my latest design in a wide range of conditions and it was just so good!” says Geoff. “I had a lot of confidence in it, but it’d only been ridden by me and my friends. When the first production models started getting shipped out to the world's top riders and influencers, I was quietly shitting myself, hoping it’d be well received. I had a lot of sleepless nights! And then the first reviews started hitting Instagram wiith 100% positive feedback.”

So how does it feel to know that a design that came out of your head is now under the feet of some of the world's best riders? “I’m just buzzing when I see what guys are doing on my foil,” says Geoff. “I guess it's the same feeling a surfboard shaper gets seeing a surfer improve on their shapes. Locally, Alex Dive is one of the best around and his foiling took a huge leap forward when he got on my foil – he’s pushing his performance to the next level. Internationally, the response is amazing. Seeing videos of the best guys going off on my design is hugely rewarding.”

Sharing the love

A lot of the world's top surfers are now into foiling too, and Geoff thinks they’re drawn by the excitement of a new challenge. “It's a very difficult thing to do, so it’s very rewarding when you start to get it,” says Geoff. “It really is just an amazing feeling – it feels like flying. That’s very different to being confined to the water surface and the bumps and chop that go with it.” 

Foiling has changed the types of waves Geoff and others ride, and the way they ride them too. “So many waves that aren’t great for surfing are perfect for the foil, and we’ll often have eight or 10 of us all sharing waves and connecting up multiple rides and pumping back out to share more,” he says. “Living at the Mount, the good surfable days have gone from 50 a year to 200.”

Keen to join the party? Geoff says the learning process is probably harder on the ego than anything else. “After being an accomplished surfer, going back to being a total learner can be quite a humbling experience, but it’s also an opportunity to get that buzz of your first successful ride, which a lot of us who’ve been surfing for a lifetime have forgotten. I love how all my ‘older’ friends have become frothing grommets who just can't get enough!”



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Helping kiwis supercharge their wealth

Ask Kristen Lunman when you should start investing, and she’ll tell you, today. Thanks to Hatch, the digital investing platform she co-founded, the world’s share markets are now more accessible to Kiwis than ever.

What does wealth mean to Kiwis? Lunman says that for her customers, it means having a full life that balances travel, work, family, friends, and health. Lunman saw limited options for ambitious Kiwis to grow their wealth and, as a woman balancing career, children and life, she felt the pain. It motivated her to start Hatch, which delivers a straightforward way for people like her to get their money working as hard as they do to earn it in the first place.

“We launched Hatch on a mission to help Kiwis supercharge their wealth and build good money habits,” says Lunman. “Term deposits and savings are no longer attractive options to grow wealth thanks to low interest rates and inflation.” With Hatch, Kiwis can now own  shares in over 3500 US-listed companies and funds on the intuitive and straightforward platform.

“Property’s great, but you need a large amount of capital to get involved, and then you’re locked in. Building a business is another way to grow wealth but making a success of it is hard work and high risk, and again, once you’re in, you’re in.”

Owning shares in world-class companies and funds has always been an opportunity reserved for the financial elite, something that never sat right with Lunman. She saw a way to offer a fresh new approach to self-directed investing that’s designed for newbies to experts.

“We’ve built a simple, straightforward experience to help you take control, wherever you’re at. With Hatch, it’s not hard to back the pioneers that are shaping our future and benefiting from their success. From Netflix to Zoom, Tesla and Vanguard, when you approach investing like you’re backing a business or industry, it breaks down the mental barriers to getting started.”

It takes about three minutes to open a Hatch account. After transferring money into your account, the next morning, you’re ready to buy shares in companies and funds in the world’s largest and most liquid share market. It’s that simple.

“We want people to be shareholders in businesses because it’s a tried and tested way to meet financial goals over the long term. We’re not about trading stocks on a whim and trying to predict fluctuations in the markets. We want to help Kiwis build sustainable wealth over time, through great financial habits.”

For Lunman, the best investors are mindful investors. This means considering why you’re investing in the first place. This level of self-awareness helps you stay calm and make smarter choices. “Being mindful means you don’t panic when your shares fall in value. There are always going to be ups and downs in share prices, but over time, the highs in the markets should outweigh the lows.”

As part of Kiwi Group Holdings alongside Kiwibank and Kiwi Wealth, Hatch has grown and benefited from the backing and wisdom of one of New Zealand’s most trusted financial names whilst staying completely autonomous. And the Kiwi family has benefitted from a fresh, innovative new brand. Win-win.

Buying a slice of a company or a pioneering industry like fake meat or cannabis and watching it grow and shape our future is exciting. Shareholders in the likes of Apple, Tesla, Beyond Meat and clean energy companies are looking ahead and hoping to benefit from megatrends that are changing the way we live. Why not join 65,000 other Kiwis and to do the same?

www.hatchinvest.nz

Column: Craig Orr shares his secrets to property success

Growing up, my family had a bach at the Mount on Oceanview Road, so we’d escape Hamilton and spend our summers here by the beach. But it wasn’t until I met my wife Natasha not long after I moved back to New Zealand from Perth that I finally moved to the Bay for good. Tash was working at clothing store Augustine, and one day I went in there with my sister and son Duke (now 11), who was two at the time. It was instant fireworks. Now Tash and I are raising our daughters, Estelle (7) and Ivy (3), while Duke, a budding surfer, lives in Jan Juc in Victoria. Safe to say I’m itching to see him when the trans-Tasman bubble gets going! 

Being in real estate with Bayleys means I have the flexibility to be there for my kids a bit more. I live for the mornings when we scooter to school and kindy. It’s that close-knit-village feel of our city that makes it such a fantastic place to work and raise a family. 

I started as a lifestyle-property agent but naturally moved into residential property through referrals and as my family-minded clients moved around, selling their properties to upgrade or downsizing after their kids had moved out. I cover much of Tauranga and the outskirts, from the Mount to Waihi Beach, but you’ll often find me in Omanu, Te Puna and Tauriko. The best part is I’ve made some really good friends working in the business. I even attended the wedding of some great clients who recently got married on the Te Puna property I sold them.
People buy from agents they trust, and I can tell almost instantly how a buyer feels about a home. You can sense it – and that’s the key to being a great agent. 

Just the other week, I had a woman wanting to buy a property I’d listed, but she needed to sell hers first. We got it on the market for her and sold it within a week. To help someone make the move they want to make in a stress-free, positive way is what it’s all about. 

As a former landscaper, part of what I bring to the table is my hands-on experience in making a home more liveable when it comes to the backyard. In the Bay of Plenty, so many of us live outside, so I can help clients see how to create the ideal outdoor spaces. 

In my twenties, I moved to Western Australia to play semi-professional rugby in the coastal suburb of Cottesloe. It was through the club I met a French stonemason and learned the ropes. That led me to setting up my own landscape construction business alongside a friend and carpenter. We grew it into a successful business, but in 2011, after 15 years, it was time for me to come home. The shift got me thinking about how long I wanted to stay on the tools, and after chatting with my good friend Stephen Shale – a Bayleys auctioneer who was then manager of Bayleys Waikato – I was motivated to follow my passion into property, where I’m proud to say I’ve been for nine years.

I also couldn’t do it all without my personal assistant, Corinne Littlejohn. You need to work as a team and she’s my backbone.

On weekdays, you can find me heading up the Mount with my phone torch at dusk. In the weekends, between open homes, I get down to the beach with the kids and out on my surfboard whenever I can. That’s the thing about living here – you can have a busy day, but the minute you head up the Mount or hit the sand, it all just washes away.

Theresa Gattung: pioneering change from the top down

A regular fixture on Fortune’s most powerful women in international business lists, Theresa is no stranger to the challenges such females face. Now leading the New Zealand chapter of SheEO, she’s helping a global community make long-overdue change. 

Spend any time looking into the life and times of Theresa Gattung and you’ll realise one thing very quickly: she’s not afraid to pioneer change. Arriving in the public eye at the age of 37, when she became the youngest ever and first female chief executive of Telecom (now Spark), she then went on to co-found My Food Bag, the home-delivered cooking-kit service that revolutionised the way thousands of New Zealanders approach mealtimes. She’s been recognised as one of the country’s leading philanthropists, working with charities such as the SPCA and Tauranga-based Cambodia Charitable Trust, and more recently launched the New Zealand arm of world-first female venture-capital fund SheEO. 

Playing her part in an ambitious goal to see 10,000 women-led ventures funded through SheEO worldwide, Theresa’s knee-deep in what may be her most important quest for change yet. To put its significance into context and demonstrate the urgent need for organisations of SheEO’s kind, you need only to consider that worldwide just four percent of all available capital is currently invested in women-led ventures. Having spent decades holding prominent positions in the business world, Theresa’s quick to recognise that even in 2020, the playing field for women in business is still far from even. “You don't really have to walk very long as a woman in business to realise that it's still harder,” she says. “It's not as hard as it was 20 or 30 years ago, but it’s still hard.” 

As the daughter of two entrepreneurial British migrants, it’s no surprise that Theresa grew up to be business-savvy, with a bent for challenging the status quo. Leaving behind their native London, her working-class parents, Marion and John, set sail for New Zealand in the 1960s. They were what Theresa affectionately calls, “ten-pound Poms”. “They paid £10, got the passage by ship and had to sign an agreement saying that they’d stay in New Zealand for at least two years,” she says. “And here they are, over 50 years later.”

Moving from their initial base in Wellington to settle in the Bay of Plenty, Marion and John set up a souvenir business in Rotorua. “My parents were entrepreneurs, in a small way,” says Theresa. “My father retired from the paid workforce in his forties after ill-health and had to support himself ever since, with property and other interests. So, yes, I come from a background of small business people.” 

Breaking away from their established family tradition of taking the same career path as their parents before them, Theresa believes that her parents’ success in New Zealand is partly due to their adopted Kiwi mentality – simply getting stuck in and being willing to try something new. She also recognises her father’s progressive and supportive approach to parenting as a unique factor in shaping the person she became. “My father had only sisters and then he had four daughters,” she says. “He was always very encouraging of us reaching our full potential, and never had any particular gender stereotypes about what girls could do [or] boys could do, which was pretty unusual [at the time].” 

On completing her schooling in Rotorua, Theresa studied a business degree at the University of Waikato, before moving to Wellington to complete a law degree. Even as a young adult, she understood that she would need to play her part in fighting for gender equality in the business world. At the time, there were no women running large companies in New Zealand, so she knew that achieving her dream of running a large company by the age of 40 would not be easy. “I've always understood that there are structural issues that can hold women back in society,” she says. 

In the years that followed, Theresa began her corporate career climb through TVNZ, National Mutual, the Bank of New Zealand and telecommunications company Telecom. Originally joining the latter in 1994, she was appointed CEO in 1999. As its first female CEO, she was thrust into the public eye, at times facing challenges that her male counterparts would rarely experience (after being announced as chief executive at a press conference, the first question she was asked was if she intended to have children). 

As she says in her memoir, Bird on a Wire, Theresa successfully led the company into an entirely new era of communication. “I joined Telecom in 1994 and I was given a cell phone that was really big; you almost needed a separate briefcase for the size of the cell phones!” she laughs. Two years later, returning from a conference in Europe in 1996, she began to realise just how big the internet was destined to become, and went on to lead Telecom’s transition into the age of IT. “When I was CEO, we bought a couple of large IT companies. We bought Gen-i and we bought Computer Land, and we put it together with Telecom’s IT division and we called it Gen-i. Then over that time, Telecom became the number-one provider of IT services.”

Stepping down from her role at Telecom in 2007, Theresa spent several years pursuing other business and philanthropic ventures, before co-founding My Food Bag in 2012 with Cecilia and James Robinson. “When Cecilia was on maternity [leave] with her son, Tom, she wrote up the business plan for My Food Bag and showed it to me,” she says. “I looked at it and I thought, ‘Yes, this is really gonna work’. I realised that something like that would fill such a need for women of every situation because ‘What are we going to have for dinner tonight?’ usually falls on the woman of the household.” 

As chair of My Food Bag and a key investor, Theresa worked with the Robinsons, Nadia Lim and her husband Carlos Bagrie to swiftly get the business off the ground. “In the beginning it was just us and then we started hiring people, and we did have that philosophy that we're going to go for the best,” she says. “We had the best advisors, we got the best people and we always thought that it could be a bigger business. We never saw it just as a small business. We set it up, the systems and everything, to scale fast.” 

After huge and rapid success, a majority share of My Food Bag was sold to Waterman Capital, freeing Theresa up to focus on building a name for SheEO in New Zealand. “When I heard [SheEO founder] Vicki Saunders speak a few years ago at a conference in America, she had just launched SheEO in Canada [in 2015] and I thought it was a brilliant idea,” she says. “Her idea was to completely change the paradigm.”

Simple yet hugely effective, SheEO operates on the principal of ‘radical generosity’, a belief that trust, collaboration and a strong female community is key to creating opportunities for more women-led ventures to succeed. Each year, an intake of local investors, called Activators, each contribute $1100 into a central funding pool. These women then work together to choose five women-led ventures to fund through five-year interest-free loans. 

“[Vicki] had a couple of cycles [of funding] in Canada and I went up to her and said, ‘This would be fantastic in New Zealand,’” says Theresa. “I organised a conference and brought her down [to New Zealand] and she presented to a room full of 500 women who just loved the idea. We decided to launch in New Zealand, but then we hit a roadblock because in Canada [SheEO] is not a business or a charity. It's not tax-deductible and it doesn't want it to be a charity. We're trying to reframe what business is, and I believe the world will be more effectively changed through business than through charity. So we struggle because the law doesn't really have a category that's in between.”

“You don't really have to walk very long as a woman in business to realise that it's still harder.”

Having ironed out some teething problems and brought Westpac on board as a key supporter, the New Zealand chapter of SheEO has so far raised $700,000, which has been loaned to 10 local ventures over two cycles of funding. Worldwide, SheEO has so far raised more than US$4 million in loans through 4000 Activators, allowing 53 women-led ventures in five countries to gain vital funding. The opportunity to change the face of business seems almost limitless. 

When it comes to selecting ventures to invest in, SheEO has unique criteria. They have to be at least 51 percent women-owned, be doing something good for the country, the world or the planet, meet revenue criteria and demonstrate an ability to scale. Among recent local ventures that have received funding from SheEO is Pure Peony Skincare, a Nelson-based business that uses the root of organic peonies to create natural products to soothe skin conditions such as eczema, psoriasis and rosacea. 

Although SheEO has game-changing benefits for their selected ventures, the system isn’t all take. Through several nationwide and regional events, SheEO Activators have the opportunity to make invaluable business connections themselves through their involvement in the organisation. Every year, SheEO runs a launch event at which the supported ventures for the year are announced and Activators have the opportunity to gather on a national level. Along with networking opportunities, Activators also have the chance to participate in follow-on funding programmes with the ventures as and when they become available. 

“The first benefit you get as an Activator is meeting all the other Activators,” says Theresa. “Vicki comes down from Canada and it’s amazing to spend a day and an evening with that group and to be so inspired. You really make linkages that will benefit your business.” 

SheEO is unique in that the required investment is relatively minimal, allowing women of all ages and backgrounds to invest in the fund. Aiming to encourage a more diverse range of women to join as Activators, SheEO gives Activators the opportunity to split the yearly financial commitment across a monthly payment plan. This commitment to accessibility helps to ensure that SheEO not only continues to support women-led ventures, but also creates a chance for women who otherwise may not feel empowered to do so to become involved in investing. 

It’s this sort of clever thinking that has contributed to the rapid growth of SheEO locally and internationally. The first ever SheEO Global Summit took place in Canada on March 9 and SheEO Magazine launched in New Zealand with the aim to help to further the SheEO’s reach and inspire Kiwi women. 

Seeing SheEO in action, it’s obvious that the world needs more of its kind and Theresa is to be commended for having the foresight to see it could work in the New Zealand market. With a knack for knowing exactly what the world needs when, she says she allows both passion and logic to guide her when it comes to choosing what to take on. “I do what moves me at the heart level and the head level. I think, ‘I could make a difference to this and it would be a good use of my time. It’d have a big enough impact and I’d enjoy doing it.’”

Theresa knows better than anyone that New Zealand is a nation of risk-takers and innovators, but she insists we need to keep pushing for more and looking at how to solve the big issues in our society. When asked about what the world needs most right now, she puts a challenge to her fellow Kiwis. “We just need to keep being more of what we can be, because we can really mean something to the world,” she says. “We show what's possible. We have to make New Zealand the best she can be because we lead the world in many ways. We have to keep doing that, even though we're not perfect. New ways of thinking to deal with problems can flourish here. We have to become even more a part of the solution – that’s the mission of every person living in New Zealand

Theresa recommends: Inspiring reads

The Testaments by Margaret Atwood 

A sequel to Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, originally published in 1985 and now a TV series, this 2019 novel is set 15 years after the gripping and gruesome events of the first book. “I find it a complete reminder that [women] have to keep reclaiming our power and asserting our right to have our voices heard,” says Theresa. 

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer  

Written by a botanist and professor of biology, Braiding Sweetgrass explores our reciprocal relationship with the earth in connection to the widespread general awakening of ecological consciousness. “It’s a fantastic ode to nature and an inspirational read about the beauty of it,” says Theresa.

Alisha Brady: EnableMe

A financial personal trainer at EnableMe, our guest columnist says that when it comes to paying off your mortgage, 10 is the new 30.

PHOTO SALINA GALVAN

When you go to a bank to get a mortgage, many people default to the bank’s offer of a 30-year term. It’s in the bank’s interest for you to take your time, as they’ll make more money. But did you know that over 30 years, you’ll pay back almost three times what you borrowed?

EnableMe founder Hannah McQueen was a young accountant when she applied to get her first mortgage 11 years ago. Reluctant to pay three times the amount she wanted to borrow back to the bank, she approached the University of Auckland’s mathematics department. Together they devised a calculus formula to determine how to pay off your mortgage in the fastest time, with the lowest interest cost and the most flexibility. That’s now the basis of EnableMe’s programme, which in the past decade has helped thousands of Kiwis get in control and get ahead.

We work on these ratios: you can pay off your debt in eight years if it’s four times the size of your household income, or in 10-12 years if it’s five times the size. If it’s more like eight times, you’ve probably stretched yourself too far and we’d suggest selling your house.

That’s why we say 10 is the new 30! Most people can achieve more than they realise when they’re armed with an ambitious plan and expert advice, and when they’re accountable to someone other than their spouse.

Kiwis fritter away 15 percent of their income on things that don’t make them any happier or that they don’t notice they’re spending money on. Finding and eliminating the fritter in your spending provides a huge opportunity to make progress. You’d also be surprised at the savings you can make from efficient mortgage set-ups, tax structures and insurances.

We use behavioural science to work out what your spending personality is, then help you incorporate positive behaviours into your life. Most of us are shoppers rather than savers, but having a plan in place that includes things that make you happy and also gives you something to strive for can help you make progress and build wealth, while taking into account your spending habits.

You can go for the traditional approach of printing out your bank statements and working out where all your money has gone, but that only tells you what you’ve done, not what you’re capable of. We’re not in the business of putting people on financial deprivation diets – we want to help them get ahead while enjoying life.

ENABLEME.CO.NZ

Bay business matchmakers

Paul Brljevich and Kevin Kerr of Tauranga-based Tabak Business Sales share the secrets of successful deals.

WORDS DANIEL DUNKLEY / PHOTOS SALINA GALVAN

Making the decision to sell your own business is never easy. If after years of hard slog, you opted to sell up so you could ride off into the sunset, how exactly would you go about it? Would you phone a few contacts and hope for the best, or take up an offer from the first interested party?

For the owners of Tauranga’s Tabak Business Sales, Paul Brljevich (pictured above left) and Kevin Kerr (above right), finding the right buyer is something of an art form. They could be considered matchmakers who link Bay of Plenty businesses with the most attractive suitors.

Paul and Kevin each have more than a decade’s experience in orchestrating business sales for Tabak, Tauranga’s oldest business brokerage. They say selling can be an emotional decision, but requires sharp analysis, impartiality and fairness. After all, it can be the most important decision of someone’s career.

From their base on Cameron Road, in the heart of Tauranga’s rapidly expanding business district, the duo has earned a reputation for their exceptional valuation skills, forensic-like attention to detail and extensive network of contacts. They cover sales all over the Bay of Plenty and up to the Coromandel, finding buyers for businesses valued at between $200,000 and $10 million. Tabak also has offices in Auckland, Hamilton, Wellington, Christchurch and Queenstown.

Kevin has been a business broker since 2001, when he was enticed into the industry from horticultural management. Paul joined in 2007, after running companies in the leisure, hospitality and property industries, plus a spell in banking. “We’ve lived it,” says Paul. “We’ve run businesses and operated businesses, so we can relate. A person’s business is like their baby; their staff are their family. They want to find a buyer who can make things bigger and better for the future.”

The business of selling a business requires top-notch expertise. Tabak works to achieve the delicate balance of getting the right price for sellers while ensuring a fair outcome for buyers. “If the initial valuation isn’t accurate, the business will remain out there on the market,” says Kevin. “We have to give realistic valuations based on thorough analysis and data. Vendors are on one side and buyers are on the other, and we’re right in the middle brokering a fair outcome.”

How does a sale happen? First, Tabak conducts an interview with the seller. A warts-and-all review follows, which evaluates the positives and negatives of the business. Tabak then taps into its prized global network of 3500 buyers, investors and contacts. This network is so successful that 80 percent of Tabak’s listed businesses are sold before they go to the wider market, allowing sellers to discreetly find the right buyer and avoid disruptive publicity.

“It’s different to selling a home,” says Paul. “You need to know the intricacies; you need to know everything! Buyers don’t purchase because we’re slick. They do it because we’ve done our homework and presented it in the right way.”

The results speak for themselves. On average, Tabak sells businesses in just three to four months, and in the past 10 years, has consistently achieved sale prices within 10 percent of the listing price. 

So, what advice would the Bay’s business matchmakers give to potential sellers? “Confidentiality is key,” says Paul. “Have an exit plan when you start a business,” adds Kevin, who also believes advisers
with dedicated resources can make all the difference. “Because we’re smaller, we’re not trying to service a huge number of clients. We have a select number of listings, to make sure we deliver.”

Paul and Kevin clearly get a buzz out of their work. From business owners seeking a change, to 60-somethings cashing out on their lifelong endeavours, each case is different and requires a thoughtful, personalised approach. “We focus on quality, not quantity, and situations in which the whole team can work on a deal – where we all know the business inside out,” says Kevin.

The pair’s drive comes from helping people achieve their long-term goals. Whether it’s buying that dream retirement home, splashing out on a beachside bach, or funding a round-the-world trip, there’s great satisfaction in helping people reap their rewards.

“We recently had a husband-and-wife team who’d been in business together for decades – it was their life,” says Paul. “We were able to get multiple offers for it. The buyers loved it, and the couple were able to go on and enjoy their retirement – it worked for everybody. Outcomes like that are why we love what we do.”

TABAK.CO.NZ

Getting it right

Holland Beckett Law’s new partner Christie Goodspeed tells why she became a lawyer, and what family means to the firm.

WORDS DANIEL DUNKLEY / PHOTOS BRYDIE THOMPSON

Christie Goodspeed opens the door to her Omokoroa home mid-conversation, with a phone pressed to her ear and her seven- and five-year-old daughters in tow, and is immediately joined by a boisterous German schnauzer and a fluffy ragdoll cat. The hectic scene offers a glimpse into the busy life of one of the newest partners at Holland Beckett Law (affectionately known as Hobec), the Bay of Plenty’s biggest law firm.

Christie smiles and takes a breath before sitting down to talk about her role at the firm known for its prowess with commercial clients. She may be leading a full life, but her surroundings hint at the meticulous planning of a top lawyer. Christie organised every detail of her family’s modern home, plotting the house from start to finish and overseeing its development from floorplan to family dwelling. Yet interior design, art and landscaping are only her part-time hobbies – in May, she was made partner at Holland Beckett, and now leads its employment and family law teams.

For Christie, Omokoroa is the perfect place for her family to call home. With idyllic views overlooking the water and a lush tropical garden, their property connects to a scenic walk leading to the children’s school. Her husband Nick, an IT technical consultant, works from home two days a week to help the pair strike the right work-life balance amid the rigours of their professions and parenting.“We’re certainly very lucky,” says Christie. “I come to work happy every day.”

Born in Hamilton, Christie decided she wanted to be a lawyer at the age of 10. She says she was attracted to the profession after watching an episode of TV show LA Law. “I liked the rough and tumble of the court litigation,” she says. “It takes a certain type of person to become a litigator – someone who likes to argue. You’ll have to ask my husband!”

She studied law at university alongside psychology, a decision that has proven useful in her work in the delicate and often emotional field of family law. “With family law and employment, it’s all about personal relationships. My psychology background is helpful, particularly when I’m dealing with separation, division of property and issues involving children.”

Christie’s journey to joining Holland Beckett in 2016 began with jobs at New Zealand firms Tompkins Wake and Buddle Findlay, and advisory firm PwC in Sydney. After becoming parents to Lily (7), Sophie (5) and Callum (3), she and Nick moved back to New Zealand.

Holland Beckett has offices in Tauranga, Rotorua, Whakatane and Opotiki. The full-service firm employs lawyers who specialise in property, estate planning, corporate and financial transactions, environmental and resource management, employment, dispute resolution, health and safety, and family and Māori law matters.

When it comes to employment law, Christie covers all areas. She says she likes to help employers problem-solve and “get it right” with their employees. On the family law side of things, she specialises in complex relationship-property cases, in which assets need to
be divided at the beginning or end of a relationship. In particular, she excels at cases involving companies and trusts. Holland Beckett is able to utilise the skills of a large commercial operation to solve difficult issues. “We help people define how they want to manage their assets going forward, and what they want to keep separate,” says Christie.

Christie’s demanding profession puts her at the centre of the Bay of Plenty’s commercial and family life. She has volunteered for Women’s Refuge and spoken publicly about racial-, gender- and sexual orientation-based discrimination. She says it can be difficult for lawyers to not to bring work problems home. “Our role is inherently being involved in conflict. You have to be able to take a step back and look at these issues with objective eyes, and that makes you a better advocate for your client.”

You might say the Bay of Plenty’s unique beauty and relaxed lifestyle provide the perfect backdrop for a family law firm. Many of Holland Beckett’s lawyers have moved here from Auckland or further afield to enjoy all the area has to offer. “Many of the partners have big-city experience or have come back after living overseas,” says Christie. They’ve chosen to be here because they want to raise their families here, and that’s a great thing. We’re a big firm with a high calibre of clients, but there’s a real sense of collegiality between everyone. The culture of the firm is important to us.”

So what makes Holland Beckett stand out from its rivals? Talking to Christie, it’s clear her employer practices what it preaches when it comes to looking after families. She was offered flexible working hours when she joined, which has allowed her to pursue her career goals without sacrificing her personal life.

She says the firm understands the importance of family. “They were so receptive to that. It certainly hasn’t stood in the way of me becoming a partner, which is fantastic. People have been promoted on parental leave, and that’s just unheard of. We have a really supportive team environment, and we all work well together. We just want to get on with it and get the best outcome for our clients.”

Christie looks outside, turning her attention to the garden. If her pristine property is anything to go by, this lawyer’s clients are in safe hands.

hobec.co.nz

Master + Commander

Lisa Hunn has a lot of achievements to her name. A member of the Royal New Zealand Navy (RNZN), she’s represented New Zealand as an acting captain in 2016 exercises aboard warship USS America and been chair of the RNZN Women’s Steering Group. But all that and a diploma in fine arts pales in comparison to the moment she’s most proud of.

WORDS ANDY TAYLOR / PHOTOS TRACIE HEASMAN

On June 14, 2017, she assumed command of HMNZS Te Mana, becoming the first woman in our navy to captain a frigate. Accepting the symbol of command, she uttered the immortal phrase: “I have the ship”.

The frigate is a battle-ready component of our navy, with all the bits to blow things up. “And the best part is that Te Mana’s symbol of command is quite big,” says Lisa. “Other ships have pounamu and the like, but with the hoe, I get to tell everyone that mine is bigger than theirs!”

This line is typical of Lisa. She has a very, very serious job, with the lives of 180 people directly in her hands, and often the lives of hundreds more indirectly, dependent on her command. And yet she’s retained that classic Kiwi ability to find humour in all areas of life.

This ability to look on the bright side is essential when you’re “driving” (as she puts it) through rough seas and storms in a warship the navy describes as “designed to fight and evade her enemies and take battle damage”. And you think you need light relief after a bad day in the office.

Lisa talked to UNO just a couple of days after being rushed to hospital with acute appendicitis that saw her have emergency surgery. “It wasn’t exactly what I had planned for the week,” she says, dryly.

Lisa’s story starts in Wellington, in what she describes as a yachting kind of family that could often be found out on the water in a variety of small boats. Her parents regularly attended the local yacht club, and while they were there, young Lisa spent her time with the Sea Cadets. For many of us, childhood interests like this are a passing distraction, but it was clearly more formative for her.

“It did have a huge effect,” she says. “I’d always loved being out on the sea, but the cadets showed me that there was more to it than that. It was a real passion, and the
navy offered something that allowed me to combine that love of being out on the ocean with seeing the world. If I was to try a philosophical explanation, I’d say that the navy offers access: access to the world, to challenges and to experiences that not
many other careers can match.”

Commander Hunn’s experiences are a roll call of foreign locations and corridors of power. She entered the navy in 1990 on the ‘general list’ as a midshipman, and did initial officer training, then a Bachelor of Science in geology. A promotion to sub lieutenant and a stint on her first seagoing unit followed, with time on HMNZ ships Endeavour, Wellington, Canterbury and Takapu. She received commendations for excellent service throughout the ’90s, and by October 2002 was a lieutenant commander and had added a New Zealand General Service Medal (Afghanistan) to her decorations for participating in Operation Enduring Freedom in the Gulf of Oman. She represented New Zealand at international AUSCANNZUKUS meetings (it’s pronounced Oz-Can-Zoo-Kiss, since you asked), then became executive officer of HMNZS Te Mana, whose home port is Tauranga. Executive officer is the second in command, and Lisa’s trajectory seemed fairly clear – until she started looking for another challenge.

“I’d always been interested in the arts and it had always been a passion,but the navy kind of got in the way. There came a point where I thought, ‘It’s now or never’, and so I started a Diploma in Fine Arts. It was the biggest challenge I’d ever faced.”

Bigger than navigating a warship through a cyclone? “Well, yes – in many ways it was! It was such a different approach, a different set of parameters, but I really loved it, and when I graduated I thought I could juggle a life of some part-time work for the navy with being a part-time artist of sorts.”

It didn’t quite work out that way. Instead, in 2014, realising the sea was a stronger calling and that she was missing the navy more than she could have imagined, Lisa re-engaged in the navy’s regular force. Once she was back in the thick of it, a few high-ranking land-based appointments presented themselves, but it wasn’t until that moment at Auckland’s Devonport Naval Base, when she said, “I have the ship” and became captain of HMNZS Te Mana, that it suddenly all made sense.

“It wasn’t so much about the command alone,” she says. “It was about knowing I could lead and inspire – that I could help bring up the next generation that would get to see the world. Commanding a ship is a privilege, but helping to shape young people into the future generation that will serve in our navy is an honour.”

The role of our navy is at a crucial turning point, something Lisa is very much aware of. “We have such a strong naval tradition in New Zealand, and such a strong naval reputation, which is respected all around the world. In 2017, the USS Fitzgerald was in a collision and it was to HMNZS Te Kaha that they turned to fill the gap. That’s the level of respect our training and ability has given us. And yet in some ways we’re very inward looking; we’re an island nation, and the sea is in our heritage, yet we don’t look out to those oceans around us.

“But I believe that’s changing now, and there are several initiatives before the government that are about having a new focus on the Antarctic, because that’s going to be such a huge part of us as a county going forward. So many other countries will be looking to have an influence in our part of the world, and we need to have a presence there – it’s our backyard, after all, and not many other interested parties can say that.”

It’s quite nice to know New Zealand will be flying the flag in our backyard more and more in the coming years. And it’s really nice – and very reassuring – to know someone like Lisa will have the ship when we do.

navy.mil.nz

Seaweed + Mānuka

WORDS CHANTELLE LAURENT PHOTOS LOGAN DAVEY / LARISSA DRYSDALE

We meet the award-winning business rebuilding the mānuka industry from the ground up, bringing real benefits to the East Cape.

Mānuka honey is a bit of a golden child. Lauded for its antibacterial and antiviral properties, it's a product of bees foraging on the mānuka plant: a flowering, evergreen shrub found growing prolifically across the East Cape. New Zealand Mānuka Group founder, Phil Caskey, kickstarted global demand for mānuka honey when he developed the world's first mānuka honey medical dressing in 2000 (still in use in many hospitals around the world today).

Breaking the cycle

In in 2011, after a break from the industry, a Māori landowner contacted Phil asking for help. Fairness and transparency was needed: landowners growing the plants were suffering. Phil set about establishing agreements between landowners, beekeepers and manufacturers, ensuring an open and fair return for all.

Phil returned fulltime to the industry with his business, the New Zealand Mānuka Group (NZMG). A business rooted in its belief in sustainability of the land as well as its people, the NZMG saw that the mānuka plant had so many other other uses other than just producing honey. They have built, from the ground up, an entire industry around mānuka, creating and returning wealth to local communities, and using the products to bring strength and vitality into our homes, gardens, and families.

What bees do

Bees pollinate the mānuka shrubs over their 20 to 30 year life cycle. During the short flowering season, honey is collected from the hives and processed for our consumption.  Once the flowering season is over, the trees are trimmed allowing them to thrive better, and the brush collected is processed into highly potent mānuka oil ßeta triketones (MßTK).

The residual mānuka mulch from this oil processing activity is rich in nutrients and forms a dense fibre which retains an incredible amount of nutrients, making it ideal for gardens. And because it has been steam cooked, it is free from problematic weeds.

Along the coast

Alongside the innovative group's operations with the mānuka plant, they also harvest the abundant, tidal washed seaweed from the pristine waters along the East Cape's fertile coastline. The group is the biggest producer of pharmaceutical grade agar (a jelly-like substance found in seaweed), in the southern hemisphere. In-house scientists have recently identified wide ranging benefits in the green and brown seaweeds also collected by their harvesters. These seaweeds have been found to contain essential amino acids and trace minerals which significantly boost the health of bees as well as pastures, crops and our gardens.

With NZMG building the mānuka industry and other opportunities, Māori landowners and trusts are developing their land on the East Cape into high quality, well-resourced mānuka plantations. Those with already converted land are employing and training local people into wide ranging jobs from plantation workers and production staff, right up to qualified horticulturalists and managers.

The group's full range of products is huge: honey, oils, beauty products, seaweed, garden mulch, fertiliser and so much more: and all from our lush, verdant East Cape. 

Going the full circle. 

And behind all this product innovation is a commitment to the people of the East Cape and their land. A fair share of the value NZMG creates goes back to the landowners and beekeeping partners, and so to the local community, through job creation, upskilling and redistribution of wealth. Families are able to stay together, on the land of their ancestors, and land is harvested sustainably. Everyone benefits.