Author: Stephen Drain

Hi everyone, I am a Partner in PwC in Auckland New Zealand. I lead PwC Forensics Services and support PwC Partner Leadership Development. My particular area of focus in leadership is Authenticity.

Flying

Flying

The first flight I recall going on was Christchurch to Auckland, visiting Grandma with Mum when I was about 4. I’m not sure why I got to go but I did, and it wasn’t the only time I flew to Auckland just with Mum. I remember there being a Viscount aeroplane and based on Wikipedia it must have been a Vickers Viscount 807, with 32 seats, although it felt quite large to me! Later it was the Boeing 737 on that route and then the Airbus A320 and occasionally A321. Grandma had a clock that I’ve recently had restored and written about again (I am sure my psychotherapist will have a field day with all of this). Anyway, back to flying.

I went for a period of anxiety with flying and really didn’t enjoy it at all, but out the other side some years ago it’s that easy flow feeling at the airport, on the plane and all bits in-between. Just don’t be late and don’t stress on delays or other first world inconveniences.

A Vickers Viscount 807 in Wellington 1971 – photo courtesy of Wikipedia

We’re very fortunate in this country with air services from one end to the other and for me nothing more that two hours flying for where I need to be. Of course, there’s more time involved – don’t be late for security because odds are it will be busy, be prepared for a delay every few flights – we live in a country of wild weather and anything can happen. But I try and be prepared – chargers, headphones, and the absolute least luggage possible. Ideally, only a carry on smallest type of bag if at all possible. And last but not least – I’m writing this to convince myself – leave the food and drinks. It’s awful how much you can consume between meals during the flying routine. If I feel I need to eat then I try and follow the nutrition advice to try and eat up to 30 different plant types a week – hard to do that with stew, rice and sandwiches on tap at the lounge, but easy with salad and fruit. I try anyway!

If you have something you want to do, that gives you a level of contentment – like for me writing a blog on here, but don’t have time, headspace or the energy after a long day – the flying journey can be ideal. If I eat and tinker with my phone it’s ok, just, but doing something meaningful in amongst the haze of the flying ritual is enormously beneficial. Looking around the airport lounge in Christchurch right now, the majority of people are on phones or screens (like me!), but some are reading books, catching up with calls to friends. Bringing meaning to a moment on the move.

Waiting to board the A320 at Auckland Domestic

I recently watched the new David Attenborough-narrated TV series Our Planet II. It’s got the usual lion hunting wildebeest (who knew it wasn’t spelt “beast?”), but the main theme is about movement. Sharks who swim thousands of kilometres to feed on Albatros chicks who crash land on their first flight. The Albatros that do make it don’t come back to land for five years. And Wildebeest that form the largest herd in the world and move thousands of kilometres through Africa in a constant search for food and water. Closer to home not far from my Auckland house there’s the Muriwai Gannet colony where chicks are hatched before migrating 2000 kilometres to Australia returning two to six years later to lay their eggs.

My flying seems more mundane and somewhat less existential than for the animals in the wild. But humans have always embraced movement, which I find a little addictive, and somehow energy and purpose giving if I follow my own guidance on the routines.

Stephen

Grandma’s Clock (Part 3) (or Give Yourself Time!)

Grandma’s Clock (Part 3) (or Give Yourself Time!)

Back in the day while staying at Grandma’s the clock was ever present, chiming every fifteen minutes and the announcing the hour with chimes on the hour. It seemed like Grandma never heard it – she slept through it all night while we seemed to be restless and eventually settled when Dad shoved a handkerchief in the mechanics to disrupt the timing mechanism.

I don’t remember exactly how I came to be the guardian of the clock, but it was put under the house in Kingsland in 1990 after Grandma died. It wasn’t working. It took ten years until I had the mechanism overhauled and assumed a pride of place in several houses. It stopped working again after several years and the verdict was “a complete overhaul” which I had completed.

When I recently moved, I forgot to take the weight out that you must do when moving a clock like this and it stopped working. So it was out to a watch and clock repairer in New Lynn for an overhaul. They agreed to also restore the wooden casing and the gold lettering and face. “Could be three months” I was warned. No problem I said. It was a year actually – the watchmaker who was to do the work sadly died – “quite inconvenient” I was told – but when I collected it recently it was an unexpected moment of joy. My very own “The Repair Shop” moment!

The watchmaker was as proud as I was satisfied

It’s got pride of place in the landing at my home and keeps almost perfect time. Living in a new modernist style home the chimes transport me to another place and time. A place of warmth, care, holiday excitement and the anticipation of what each day might hold – sometimes the amazing and quite new St Lukes Mall with its beads of water cascading down invisible plastic threads from ceiling to ground, Waiwera Hot Pools, Stanmore Bay for swimming, and the Auckland Zoo.

The original instruction booklet

I don’t really enjoy the burden of physical objects that might fit the category of “take if the house is burning down”, but I definitely have one now. Well two actually, but that’s for another day. For now, finally, it’s back to its former glory, functional, and permanently home. A contented feeling.

Stephen

The style of the Clock is known as a Striking Mantel Clock. It is “The Enfield Full Quarter Westminster Chime” and the instructions which I still have record “Give yourself Time!“. It appears to have been popular in the 1940s and 1950s when it is thought that Grandma and Grandad purchased the unit. You can purchase a good second-hand one for $600 in New Zealand, but if you want to restore one be prepared for a multiple of that figure! I am hopeful that one of my sons will one day take guardianship of it for another generation of memories. The Westminster Chimes come from Big Ben’s chimes in London.

A walk in the park

A walk in the park

It’s quite a different city from when I left four decades ago, and coming back – settling in the city for part of the week and some weekends – has felt both easy and foreign. Christchurch is largely built on the flat, and walking through the three Hagley Parks and one Botanic Gardens today, I did wish for a bit of challenge to the heart! You can get in a good groove though – audiobook and easy paths – and although it was cold, it was clear and there were lots of runners, dog walkers and cyclists. I’m not sure you need a motor vehicle living in the city, it’s very walkable, safe, and quite attractive too. I’m not sure if locals quite realise how stunning Hagley Park is on foot. Small children play football in the freezing cold – that’s a memory of the Linwood Rugby Club!

I chose to live in the city here now, it’s got a bit of spark, fantastic walking and cycling with some quite exciting architecture and of course the greens and river, and modern streetscape. Ideal for an addicted walker like me!

I’ve been a reasonably frequent visitor over the years to my southern hometown, and when I took the leap to lead a team here, I knew that I had to have a fresh start and not go back to any old ways – a new apartment in the city for a start, live a flexible life, walk everywhere and get a bike on hand.

I didn’t articulate to myself why all those things needed to be true but it came clearer to me in the park. I try and keep my mind in the moment for those moments that bring up easy reflections and learnings – a glance at the kids playing football on the wet cold sunny grass did it at one point this morning – but I don’t enjoy living a life from that past at all. A fresh start in Otautahi keeps me forward looking, with the luxury of many old memories coming back full of rich memories to make life fuller.

Like a favourite old movie, remastered in stunning high definition!

Stephen

A princely tale of gratitude

A princely tale of gratitude

When sixty of us 17 and 18 year olds gathered at the Police College in Trentham, Upper Hutt in January 1981 it’s probable that none of us really knew why we were doing it, or where it might take us. We had been selected from a pool of applicants and as the country was in a recession, with unemployment rising it was likely – in hindsight – that there would have been no shortage of applicants. From what I can pick up, some joined because of family connections, some because they saw this as a career for life, and others, well, who knows what 17 year olds are making decisions based on!

Recently, our Covid delayed 40 year reunion took place in Wellington, with 27 of the group, some spouses and one instructor. And we saw videos from four others who couldn’t make it including until recently the coach of an international rugby team.

Through 1981 we were designated temporary constables to help out with policing during the controversial Springbok Tour. 58 Graduated. Four have sadly died. Three of us, including one of my besties still, started our police careers at Dunedin. Six of the 58 are still serving in the police.

With Mum & Dad at the opening of the Police College 42 years ago today.
Mum & Dad with me at the opening of the police college 42 years ago. Mum and Dad are still my best career champions – always there.

During the reunion weekend, we visited the Royal NZ Police College in Porirua where we moved to in March 1981, as the first occupants. Exactly 42 years ago today, on 1 April 1981, the then Prince of Wales, visited us and formally opened the new College. It was an amazing event, and we trained hard to put on a gymnastic display with telegraph poles, got a crash course in marching and drills and I’m sure we made everyone pretty proud from our parents in attendance, the police commissioner Bob Walton through to the then prime minister Robert Muldoon. Prince Charles was our Patron and so we were and still are known as the Prince of Wales 25th Cadet Wing. The Cadet programme only lasted another year, and after that all recruits had to be grown ups of at least 19 years old!

Rainbow Warrior Bombing display at the police college museum Although I’m smiling, I am respectful that Greenpeace photographer Fernando Pereira died in this incident, never forgotten. To my right is the outboard from the Zodiac used by the bombers. I had a photograph with that in the NZ Herald at the time.

It seemed to me at the reunion there might be an inverse relationship between tenure in the police and enthusiasm to relive that special year. For the six cadets still serving as police officers, it was obvious they were proud, but the life was still very much in the present. A great career for each of them I’d say.

For me, having done nine years, there was a certain level of marvel at revisiting the college, and with it all the memories stored away. Some things I don’t remember I ever knew. On the tour the subject of remuneration came up “$8990 was our starting salary” I declared. Turns out that was only if you had UE – otherwise it was a $1000 less! Parts of my career are stored for ever there and I never knew – the display in the Museum of the Rainbow Warrior bombing where I had been brought in to support as 2 i/c Exhibits, the Trades Hall bombing where, with a Detective Sergeant, I had been privileged to conduct the Auckland-based enquiries, and the memorial to Police officers killed on duty including a Sergeant I had known in Dunedin. All sobering and satisfying to reflect on all at the same time.

Sharing a cup of tea in the canteen at the end of the tour I chatted to the latest recruits, to discover that their patron is one of my partners at PwC. Small world. If they represent the police of the future, we are very fortunate. Far more mature, and balanced than I recall we were!

I hope these beautiful people in training that I met from the latest recruit wing don’t mind their photo here. We are in good hands with these fine people in blue.

There’s practical stuff I learned in the police that I use every day in my work still – freeze the scene! – which is more about capturing electronic devices in my work now, but the principles are just the same as for a physical environment, and capturing and recording evidence for use in Court.

But the gift of the training and the time in the police has been holding onto resilience, perspective and calmness under pressure.

I use that every day too. It’s good leadership.

Thanks to the police for quite a lot actually.

Stephen