Vingette 16
On the Quirky Side
Over coffee this morning, Scott and I shared a laugh remembering our first reactions to some of the more eccentric aspects of Waiheke. It may just be my imagination, but I bet that I can pick out the local folk on the ferry, even if they are hidden within a crowd of tourists. Maybe there is a dress code for this Island, a style that sets us apart from the rest. Wine, olives and art, all floating blissfully in a boater’s paradise…that is Waiheke’s geography. The human side of the island is another thing entirely. There is a constant flow of odd characters walking around the main village of Oneroa; looking as if they have been preserved from a more relaxed past. One man wears a dyed gauze turban, flowing shirt and pants with long carrot orange hair and beard to match the turban. He rolls his own cigarettes, and can be regularly seen sitting with another man with long hair, full black leather costume studded with metal and rawhide, at the Schooner outdoor cafe. They both look as if they have missed a few meals, and might disappear from view if suddenly turned sideways. Whatever they talk about vacillates between intense face to face heavy conversation and animated, deeply heartfelt arm waving dialogue that seems socially significant.
You can always count on eccentric local folk to give this place a flavor like no other. The local bumper sticker slogan sums it up: Waiheke…far enough behind to be ahead. The locals have proven that they are indeed mavericks; standing up to city hall by boycotting the parking lot that charges by the hour or showing up in great numbers to fight developments that they feel might change the character of this island. They proudly wear their army green t-shirts bought from the Spangled Ferrit booth at the Ostend Saturday market advertising “The People’s Republic of Waiheke.” Waiheke Island is synonymous with a bohemian lifestyle.
The Island boasts a population of around 9,000 full time residents. This number swells hugely with the onset of summer. Ferries arrive from Auckland City every hour from 6 a.m. until midnight, bringing with them masses of people from all over New Zealand and the rest of the world. They pour out into the terminal at Matiatia, renting cars and bikes, or jumping onto a bus or taxi ready to give local businesses a much needed shot in the arm. Island businesses have a high mortality rate due to the deprivation that comes with no tourists during the winter months. It is a love hate relationship between the locals and the tourists. During the winter the locals have the run of the island. They are allowed to let their dogs frolic freely on the beaches, and revel in not having to elbow their way down the aisles at Woolworths to buy groceries.
The difference between tourists and locals is that the locals don’t spend their money as if they are in vacation. They don’t support the restaurants during the slow months: because they are too expensive. There can be sticker shock over the price of a glass of wine. A paperback runs close to $40 and no self respecting Waihekian would pay that when they have such a wonderful library. One Oneroa boutique sells shoes to tourists for a whopping $350, causing one resident (me), to wonder if the owner has visited Woolworth’s lately. It is not the $350 shoes you see walking into Woolies, it would be more likely be a pair of knee high gum boots.
Despite Waiheke being an expensive place to live, residents here show their uniqueness by choosing eccentric island life over the modern conveniences offered just a forty minute ferry ride away. Maybe it has to do with so many artists living in such close proximity. Many houses on Waiheke still have a “long drop,” outhouse on their property. Along with things that cling to the past, the pagan side is alive and well with witches that practice solstice rituals that loads of folks still show up to. When we first arrived we went to a solstice celebration and walked in a circle to drumming accompaniment while wondering what the hell was going on. I have been told that there is still a group of women who collect their bits and pieces after hysterectomy, childbirth or miscarriage and conduct burial ceremonies with their family and friends. This should illuminate how quirky Waiheke Island is.
It doesn’t end with strange rituals. Every two years there is an inorganic rubbish collection all over Auckland. You are allowed to put anything that you no longer want out by the side of the road, as long as it is inorganic and contains no toxicity. During the month that leads up to the collection date, you will see piles in front of each house ebb and flow. One person’s trash ends up being another person’s treasure. You put something out, and in the time it takes to go get something else from under the house, it will have been taken by one of your neighbors, or someone just driving by. The funniest story I heard about the inorganic rubbish collection was the one about the lady riding on the bus to Onetangi, who convinced the bus driver to pull over so that she could snag a rusty looking stroller. Naturally all the other people got off the bus and took advantage of shopping for free.
Once, Murphy begged me to pull over so that he could stuff my trunk full of broken down lounge chairs and a bucket for his fishing nets. He said that it felt like Christmas morning. Stu has an old barbeque that is parked on his walkway in anticipation of the next collection, still over a year off. The whole affair leaves me with such a satisfied feeling; ridding myself of useless crap without much applied effort, along with the added bonus of recycling in the process. As with all things quirky on this island, this occasion is taken in stride; no one thinks twice about stopping next to a pile of rubbish and diving in up to their waist looking for that one piece of priceless booty. The right sheet of corrugated iron taken off an old outhouse might be transformed into an art deco barbeque. You just never know do you?
Waiheke island residents are not only inventive with rubbish, they are, when given the chance, committed to bucking the system. Sometimes they do it spectacularly. There is only one main road that goes from one end of the island to the other, and you pass through five small villages along the way. Ostend is the village that is considered the middle of the densely populated part of the island. It is away from the tourist area and provides the locals with local businesses like Dick Smith Electronics, plumbing, dry cleaners and liquor barn. It is heavily trafficked and when I first arrived there were two sets of heavy duty roto-moulded speed bumps strategically screwed into place before and after the striped walking zones. Locals hated the speed bumps with a passion and one evening a splinter group took it upon them to do something about it. On a Saturday evening, the police were called out to the Dirt Track stock car race to deal with a decoy disturbance. While the police were kept busy at the dirt track, a couple of guys unscrewed the speed bumps and hauled them away. The speed bumps were replaced not too long afterwards. After the second set of speed bumps disappeared six months later, they were not replaced; making it locals one, Auckland City Council, zero.
In the same vein, when the narrow country roads get torn up during winter, the council sends a road maintenance man across the island to do their form of triage, marking areas that need the most immediate attention. The road crews only work on the areas that have been spray painted. One resourceful islander took a can of spray paint and circled all the bumps and holes all the way from Onetangi to Orapiu. The council figured out what was happening after a while and sent someone out to spray paint black over all the illegally marked potholes and rough spots. You’ve just got to admire that level of anarchy.
Waiheke is home to an eclectic mix of people and animals. A few years ago there was a battle to save a gang of homeless roosters. Sure enough a place alongside the estuary on the way to Rocky Bay is now home to a growing flock of bandy legged chooks. When you drive down their dirt road, which has now become a fun place to take visiting guests, the entire lot surrounds your car. It gave me a kind of Alfred Hitchcock sensation the first time, but the boys are beautifully feathered and look as if they are well fed. This is the kind of cause that shows Waiheke solidarity: as if that many non conformists could be like mindedness.
Criteria that make an establishment popular in the eyes of Waiheke locals is once again, a little bit unusual. The movie theater falls into this category. It is located in the basement of the Art Gallery and Library complex and is staffed by volunteers. The island movie theater is fun to take a visitor to; because when you pass through the doors it is fun the watch the visitor’s face as they gaze upon a charming array of unique couches instead of individual seats that are all hooked together. You can easy smuggle in the rest of your bottle of wine from the Indian restaurant next door if you are smooth about it. The king sized sheet that used to be the screen has now been upgraded to movie quality, and being able to put your feet up like you are at home is really cool.
Another popular place from a local’s point of view is Onetangi Beach. It is as wide as any California beach, but with fine white sand that is firm to walk on. This attribute makes it a perfect racetrack in March every year. The Onetangi Beach Races are held at the end of each summer, when tourist season is winding down. I have seen pictures from the first few events in the late 1,800’s. The ladies look as if they are trying to stay cool in their long dresses; standing next to massive oxen that are yoked up to heavy wagons ready to thunder down the beach; the ocean backdrop behind them surreal. Today’s races are run by The Rotary Club and raise monies for community projects through a betting booth facilitated by announcer and loud speaker. People walk around with pints of local brew and stop to cheer on the competitors. Tractors, runners on foot, horses and wheelbarrows all take their turn. The Fashion in the Field costume competition is always fun. The getups have a unique Waiheke flair. Local artisans sell their wares, and the restaurants have lines going out the doors. This reminds me of what I remember about country fairs from the late 50’s.
There are so many unique individuals that I come across living here. One guy who lives a couple of bays over from us tries to catch a ride into town on the children’s school bus every week. In order to look legit, he dresses in an old school uniform of shorts, knee high socks and matching sweater. You can see him standing on the side of the road where the bus must pass him each morning around 7:45 a.m. He always gets a ride. I pick him up when I see him. He is extremely well spoken and very entertaining.
In the last few years I have become desensitized to the goings on that I used to find so unique. For instance, it just seemed plain normal when one of the neighbors had to helicopter her old 5,000 gallon water tank off her property and as it flew out over the bay; Stoney came rushing out of his house, flagging down the pilot to drop the tank down in his yard. Kind of has the flavor of the inorganic rubbish collection, with a slightly different spin. This was just another day on Waiheke Island, the quirkiest jewel in the crown of the Hauraki Gulf.
