spinofflive
West Wave in Henderson was hit hard by the January flooding (Photos: Supplied / Design: Tina Tiller)
West Wave in Henderson was hit hard by the January flooding (Photos: Supplied / Design: Tina Tiller)

SocietyMay 30, 2023

‘Everything got fried’: How January’s floods messed up NZ’s biggest swimming complex

West Wave in Henderson was hit hard by the January flooding (Photos: Supplied / Design: Tina Tiller)
West Wave in Henderson was hit hard by the January flooding (Photos: Supplied / Design: Tina Tiller)

It’s taken months to repair West Wave in Henderson. It’s going to be many more before it’s back at full capacity.

When the floodwaters arrived, all the cars disappeared. “They were washed into the fences,” says Garth Dawson. He’s upstairs at West Wave, New Zealand’s largest aquatic centre and West Auckland’s most popular public facility, waving towards the tarmac below us. “The whole carpark just disappeared.” 

The cars went, so did everything else. So much water arrived on January 27 – officially the heaviest rainfall ever recorded in Tāmaki Makaurau – that next door at Henderson Bowling Club, the artificial turfs lifted up and floated away. “They were ripped off and washed down to the far end,” says Dawson.

Floodwater in the Waikumete stream.
Floodwaters rise in the Waikumete Stream on January 27. (Photo: Dylan Reeve)

At 5pm that day, as rainfall built toward its peak, West Wave contained several hundred swimmers, says Sarah Clarke, the facility’s manager. Sensing an emergency, staff used whistles to clear the pools. The carpark was overflowing so swim school kids were evacuated to nearby restaurant The Falls to allow parents in to pick them up. “We needed to get everyone out of there,” says Clarke.

Water was approaching West Wave’s doors from both sides. Built in 1989, just in time for the 1990 Commonwealth Games, the huge facility – including nine swimming pools, a hydroslide, lazy river, diving boards, sauna and steam rooms, several gyms and basketball courts – is sandwiched between two waterways: the Waikumete and Opanuku streams. (The area is sometimes referred to as Twin Streams – one of West Wave’s swim classes is named exactly that.)

Swimmers enjoy West Auckland swimming pool West Wave.
West Wave is usually full with happy swimmers. (Photo: Supplied)

Until that day, the area had never flooded. “It’s never breached its banks – ever,” says Clarke about the Opanuku Stream. Her eyes widen when she remembers how quickly water levels rose in the streams that day. “I’ve lived here 20 years now. I’ve never seen anything like that before. It was literally a torrent. You would not have wanted to have been out there.” 

We were out there. Rain caused carnage across the region. Roads turned into swamps, flooding cars, buses and motorways. Slips cut residents off in Muriwai, Piha and Karekare. Entire streets flooded in Grey Lynn and West Auckland. Some homes were, quite literally, under water. Four people died, and emergency rescue staff were pushed to breaking point. Elton John’s Mt Smart Stadium re-do was cancelled. Western Springs became a swimming pool, forcing Laneway organisers to cancel the festival for the third year in a row, this time not because of Covid.

A photo taken from a car showing flooding in Henderson.
Flooding in Henderson on January 27. (Photo: Dylan Reeve)

At West Wave, as the evacuations continued, a lone staff member monitoring the underground pump room noticed something strange. Murky water was pooling in the downstairs network of rooms and tunnels where all the equipment that keeps the facility’s pools functioning is contained.

The floods had arrived, but the water wasn’t coming in through the front doors like everyone imagined. Instead, it was reversing back through the stormwater drain. “The stormwater system backed up,” says Dawson, Auckland Council’s leisure network services manager. “It came in the wrong way.”

On that day, 250,000 litres of brown river water poured into West Wave. It took four days to pump it all out, and weeks to assess the damage. More than four months later, the facility where 800 people go to swim every single day remains mostly out of action. Just three of its nine pools are open. All leisure pools are closed and have been drained, meaning only lane swimmers, divers and toddlers taking their first strokes can use it. On the day The Spinoff visited, it was eerily quiet: everyone who wanted a lane could easily have one to themselves.

The smell of coffee and sausage rolls no longer fills up the foyer. Screams from happy toddlers can’t be heard from the leisure pools. The wave machine, hydro slide and lazy river are closed, so too is the recently refurbished spa and sauna. On Facebook, users post comments like, “Are the wave pools and slide open yet please?” and, “Can’t wait to come back,” on a daily basis. Everyone is missing it. 

West Wave is being resurfaced as the pool's flood recovery continues.
Staff resurface West Wave’s leisure pool as the flood recovery continues. (Photo: Supplied)

West Wave has been operating at no or low capacity since the end of January, and its estimated re-opening date isn’t until September. That, says staff, is out of their control. “We want it open just as much as customers do,” says Clarke. “We’re trying to make the most of a difficult situation.”

So what’s the hold-up? “Everything got fried,” says Clarke. “All our electrical distribution boards were all wiped out. Our variable speed drives … every dial switch for every pump, it all has to be replaced.” The age of the facility is an issue. Like a classic car, some parts are hard to find, and others need to be built from scratch. “We’re having to order these things from all over the world,” says Dawson. He deadpans: “Pumps like water on the inside of them. They don’t like water on the outside.”

Now into its fourth decade, a $6.5 million upgrade program was already underway to replace West Wave’s ageing lights, improve climate efficiency by replacing gas boilers with heat pumps and electrical boilers, and install a self-chlorination system. Much of that work has now been bought forward. Below Dawson and Clarke, contractors can be seen working on the leisure pool’s new floor. The water’s been drained, all the tiles have been ripped off and replaced by a shiny new surface. “You never see the bottom of this pool dry,” says Clarke. It hasn’t happened in more than 10 years. “It’s not normal.”

West Wave's pools filled with happy swimmers.
West Wave, in happier days. (Photo: Supplied)

West Wave’s lengthy time out has shone a light on a problem facing the entire region: a lack of pools. “There are gaps,” admits Dawson. New facilities mooted in Avondale-New Lynn, Ormiston-Flat Bush and Westgate are yet to eventuate. As a result, pools in Mt Albert and Albany are being pushed beyond to their limits because they’re dealing with West Wave’s overflow. “Mt Albert’s super-busy,” admits Dawson.

Ensuring floodwater can no longer enter West Wave has been factored in. “It will only ever be one direction,” says Dawson. “They’re working on making sure the water only goes out and doesn’t come back in.” But that doesn’t help the thousands of people who’d like to return to West Wave to soak in the spa while their kids splash about in the lazy river, or swim some laps then sweat it out in the sauna.

When West Wave’s carpark flooded on January 27, people were still driving in, hoping for a Friday evening swim. The following day, they also showed up at the doors, knocking, hoping to get in. Clarke was there, mopping up and assessing the damage, and was forced to wave them away. “We were like, ‘No, we’re closed.’ They were like, ‘Why?'” They couldn’t see what the problem was because all the flooding happened underground.

She gets the frustration – swimming can be addictive, and there’s nowhere else to go unless you fancy a 20-minute drive. “People get very passionate about their swimming.”

‘Hutt Valley, Kāpiti, down to the south coast. Our Wellington coverage is powered by members.’
Joel MacManus
— Wellington editor
A dental exam, some fish and a bottle of Export Citrus beer with the words THE COST OF BEING
Image: Archi Banal

SocietyMay 30, 2023

The cost of being: A retired Auckland barber

A dental exam, some fish and a bottle of Export Citrus beer with the words THE COST OF BEING
Image: Archi Banal

As part of our series exploring how New Zealanders live and our relationship with money, an 83-year-old barber explains how the advice he got while cutting retirees’ hair changed his financial outlook.

Want to contribute? Send us an email briefly describing your situation at costofbeing@thespinoff.co.nz

Age: 83

Ethnicity: Pākehā 

Work situation: Retired. I started work as a barber at 16 in 1955, and called it a day when I turned 81. I started on a wage of about $5 a week. A haircut was 25c at the time. 19c for a boy’s haircut, so long as he didn’t come on Friday – that was our big day. Most people wanted to look sharp for the weekend. I say retired, but I still cut the hair of some hardcore regulars on my porch. 

My living location is: Auckland city. I came into the city from the Eastern Suburbs in 1961. They told me I’d go broke, because I was paying $40 a week for a chair. And a 10-minute haircut was 35c. What nearly killed our trade was that you couldn’t even charge more if you wanted to – it was under price controls. When they took price controls off, I went to specialist half hour bookings, and my rate went up from 50c to $1.50 by 1968.

Rent/Mortgage per week: None. I paid off the mortgage when I was about 65, when I picked up the pension. I bought my first house in Herne Bay for $12,800 in 1964. I bought my current house in Freemans Bay, 1984, for $142,000. The vendor loaned me money to buy it at 18% interest rates – the bank wanted 21%. Inflation was around 20% at the time.

Student loan or other debt payments per week: I tend to save up and buy things. Otherwise I don’t buy them. My boat man says I’m one of the few guys who pays with a cheque. Everyone else pays with finance.

Any major upcoming costs: No. We’ve had our annual holiday. We’ve pre-booked the next one. We only have a couple of weeks now, instead of three. It’s just got too expensive – it used to be $15,000 for the two of us, now it’s $25,000.

Typical weekly food costs

Groceries: $350. Wifey’s a New World lady. She says their greens are superior. 

Eating out / takeaways: None. We eat pretty well – a lot of chicken and fish. A treat for us would be a steak, about once every 10 days. When the fishing’s good, we have fish 2-3 times a week. Lately the weather’s been rubbish, so less fish.

Workday lunches: None. If I’m out, I pack my own lunch. On the boat, I’ve modified it so I can cook bacon, eggs and fish on board.

Cafe coffees/snacks: None. I can make great coffee at home. I run the top of the line capsule one. Still going strong after 15 years.

Savings / investments

I worry about money: Never. From a very early age I scraped and saved. Through my client base in the city I gradually built up a shareholding in several companies. I have a system where I say I’m asking for an opinion, not advice, from my clients. They’ve given me good advice on which shares to buy. I’m a Heartland man. A Meridian man. A Skellerup man. And some Fisher Funds, which pay quarterly dividends.

Three words to describe my financial situation would be: More than happy. I recently had a meeting with my accountant and he shook my hand and congratulated me on joining the 33c in the dollar tax club. I told him it was his job to keep me out of it!

My biggest edible indulgence would be: Prawns. My wife has found some beautiful prawns at New World. They’re about $80 a kilo. You don’t have to do anything but eat them. They’re really nice. That’s the special treat, once a week.

In a typical week my alcohol expenditure would be: $2. I virtually don’t drink. There’s a new beer out, Export Citrus 2%. It’s rather nice and it doesn’t knock me around. They’re about $22 a dozen, which lasts me about three months.

In a typical week my transport expenditure would be: $60 for a day on the boat. I’d get out once a week in the boat. I don’t drive much – about 2,000km a year in my truck, and my wife does about 1,500km in her car. And because we do less than 5000km we get a better deal on the insurance.

I estimate in the past year the ballpark amount I spent on my personal clothing (including sleepwear and underwear) was: I haven’t spent any money on clothes in years and years.

My most expensive clothing in the past year was: None

My last pair of shoes cost: Nothing. We used to have homestay boys. The last one left behind his shoes. The sole had come off, so I re-soled them. Beautiful $350 shoes and he abandoned them.

My grooming/beauty expenditure includes: I have an old barber mate, and we swap haircuts, so there’s no money there. I’ve got a natural grey colour [laughs]. My biggest cost would be the dentist. She wants to pull my teeth out. She wants to remove three of my teeth. I didn’t ask her how much, but the consultation was $108.

My exercise expenditure in a year is about: $0

My last Friday night cost: $0 

Most regrettable purchase in the last 12 months was: No regrets. I do my research before I buy.

Most indulgent purchase (that I don’t regret) in the last 12 months was: More fishing gear. Also chainsaw gear and log splitting gear.

One area where I’m a bit of a tightwad is: Dining out. I’m a bit spoiled. My wife is an excellent cook. We’d rather spend the money on good quality stuff and eat it at home.

Five words to describe my financial personality would be: I am more than happy 

I grew up in a house where money was: In my homestead, no disrespect to my mum and dad, but they were hand to mouth. There was no spare money. I was in secondhand clothes right through school. A good hard-working Labour man, was Dad. I had my life changed by the retirees whose hair I started cutting in Mission Bay. They turned me from a Labour to a National man. It was OK to save, OK to invest. 

The last time my Eftpos card was declined was: I don’t have an Eftpos card. Many years ago I had a GST audit. And the man said “what do you do with your drawings?”. I said, “I don’t do any drawings – I’m a hairdresser, not a bloody artist.” But the point was that I just get money out of my pocket. Otherwise I use my ASB platinum card to get dollar points. You get a dollar back for every $100 you spend.

Financially, the last five years have been: Up and down. In round figures I’m probably $100,000 down on where I was, in the sharemarket. But I’m still up on what I put in. 

My pension’s at 10.5%. Between my wife and I we get $763 per week. If you don’t owe anything and you have no major outgoings, that’s virtually doable. From a purely freehold pensioner point of view, the pension is very generous. And we can still work. With the winter energy top up – that’s an extra $33 a week. It’s very generous. Compare that to my wife’s girlfriend in Melbourne. She’s just retired, but works three jobs – so she has too much money to get the pension.

In five years, in financial terms, I see myself: Hopefully still alive. At 83, my plan is not to shuffle off until I’m 97.

I would love to have more money for: Nothing. I’m more than happy. I’m pretty spoiled. I can hop on a Link bus for free. Our supermarkets are handy. What would I do with a bigger, flasher house? If I were to somehow come into moonbeams I would probably help out some poor bastard that needed it. 

My financial low: To do with sharemarkets. I’m down about $200,000 on what I had at the peak. But they’re still paying dividends. I dumped anything that doesn’t pay a dividend. 

I give money away to: Mostly to my wife.

Want to contribute? Send us an email briefly describing your situation at costofbeing@thespinoff.co.nz