By David

Good manners require an explanation as to why Swimwatch has been silent since March. It is simple. I was oh so very tired of Swimming New Zealand politics. I had better things to do with my time, looking after some very talented people in the West Auckland Aquatics Swim Club. I am sure the preparation of our fastest swimmers for the New Zealand Olympic Trials was compromised by the time I devoted to the reform campaign. That should not happen and will not happen again. My first responsibility is to a dozen young New Zealanders who toil up to 100 kilometres a week in a west Auckland swimming pool. For two years, the charlatans in Swimming New Zealand’s head office had been a distraction. It was time to address that imbalance. It was time for Swimwatch to get out of the way.

Besides, a Review of Swimming New Zealand had been ordered. Until its findings were reported there was very little for Swimwatch to say. Well, today that changed. Chris Moller reported on the Review’s conclusions. He said that Mike Byrne and the Board should go. A trimmed down Board and a new Chief Executive should replace the old guard. Swimming New Zealand should be controlled by a Board of three elected and three appointed directors. Swimming New Zealand should get out of learn to swim. The federal system of independent regions should be retained. The regions should be governed by updated and similar constitutions. Clearly it was time for Swimwatch to express and opinion.

Three months ago I went to Wellington and met Chris Moller. I wrote a Swimwatch story about the encounter. The story concluded by saying, “There is however another way. There is a way where the “state” observes properly defined limits and creates an environment where we all can do our jobs; where the “state” avoids the neglect and the dictatorial control that have characterized its performance in the past. I can only hope Moller and Suckling’s report reflects that middle ground. After Wellington, here at Swimwatch, we do have hope.”

Today that hope was rewarded. In full measure Moller’s report is a victory for Jessica, Justin, Abigail, Lara, Rhi, Alex, Reka, Jane, Amelia, Billy and a thousand other swimmers who want to succeed in this sport. Moller has just given every swimmer in New Zealand a chance. The people he has sacked, the structure he proposes and the reforms he recommends should mean the next generation of New Zealand swimmers will not be limited by their master’s failings. I feel almost biblical with relief, “The son shall not suffer for the iniquity of the father. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”

There is a concern. The reforms proposed are good and necessary. Those directly affected however have seen off half a dozen similar reports in the past. They are experts at the art of deception and survival. Moller has done a good job, a very good job of talking the talk – but can he walk the walk? Can he deliver on his recommendations? Will Mike Byrne actually clear his desk? Will the Board resign? Will project Vanguard disappear? We now know what’s been written. We have yet to find out if this report has more substance than all those that have gone before. We still have hope, but, with good reason, we are very cautious.

There is one leading actor who is going to come out of this exercise “smelling of roses”. Thanks to Moller’s wisdom Peter Miskimmin, the CEO of Sport and Recreation New Zealand will look like the great redeemer; the man who commissioned the Review that saved the sport of swimming. And all that is not true. This Review was forced on a reluctant and obstinate Miskimmin by the Coalition of Swimming New Zealand regions. Miskimmin was dragged kicking and screaming into the Review process. He agreed to fund the process only because he had no option. Swimming New Zealand was falling apart. The Review recommended by the Coalition of Regions was the only way out. The price tag of $600,000 was a small price to pay to save Miskimmin’s hide.

Miskimmin has seen reports on Swimming New Zealand come and go. His hired guns on the old Swimming New Zealand Board have defended and preserved the Board that Moller now wants to sack. Miskimmin has long been a supporter of central socialist management in sport; a long way from the federal regional government recommended by the Moller Review. There should be no misunderstanding of the role of Miskimmin in the saga of Swimming New Zealand’s woes. He was the great enabler. He provided the political and financial support that founded and preserved a system of swimming management that Moller now calls “dysfunctional”. The sport of swimming in New Zealand has struggled for a decade because Miskimmin actively encouraged and supported its poor management.

Moller’s report is effectively a condemnation of Miskimmin’s management. Miskimmin had personal representatives on the Swimming New Zealand Board. He approved Swimming New Zealand’s corporate plans to expand into learn to swim. He supported directors who stayed on the Board beyond their constitutional licence. Everything that Moller censures was approved and paid for by Miskimmin. If it is right for Byrne to be putting his personal belongings in a cardboard box this weekend and closing the door of his office for the last time; if it is right for a dozen directors to leave the Swimming New Zealand Board Room for the last time – then it is certainly essential that their founder and funder leave with them. The Captain has a responsibility to stay with his sinking ship. The old Swimming New Zealand is Miskimmin’s ship. He designed it, he paid for it and he captained it. He was the enabler. He has a responsibility to leave with his discredited regime.

In his Auckland meeting Moller asked the audience to “play the ball not the man”. That might sound noble. However Moller knows full well that the problems at Swimming New Zealand are manmade. There is nothing wrong with the ball in this sport. It’s the team that needed replacing. That’s why Moller is getting rid of the Board and the CEO. That’s also why Miskimmin should be told to go as well. When it comes to Peter Miskimmin, playing the man is entirely appropriate. He, after all, is the problem.

By David

Wikipedia is an easy to use and quick reference document. I had reason today to look up the meaning of “dirty tricks”; the type used by Richard Nixon in the Watergate scandal. Here is what Wikipedia had to say on the subject.

Dirty tricks are unethical, duplicitous, slanderous or illegal tactics employed to destroy or diminish the effectiveness of political or business opponents; manufactured, irrelevant, cruel and incorrect rumors or outright falsehoods designed to damage or destroy an opponent are easily described as dirty tricks. They serve to tie up the opponent into defending against and answering false charges rather than explaining their policies and platform.

The definition perfectly describes an incident involving Swimming New Zealand and the current Review Committee that I experienced yesterday. I was asked to join a conference call with two members of the current Swimming New Zealand Review Committee, the Chairman, Chris Moller and Sue Suckling. You may remember they are the same two members of the Review Committee that I met in Wellington a month ago.

I assumed that the purpose of the conference call was to follow up on our constructive Wellington discussion; a not altogether unreasonable conclusion given that the first sentence in their email invitation said, “Good Morning David, Chris and Sue would like to have a follow up interview with you via teleconference.”

But this telephone conversation had nothing to do with “following up” on our Wellington discussion. In the words of Wikipedia that description of our telephone call was unethical and duplicitous. This conversation was a “kangaroo court” aimed at launching a personal attack that would destroy me and the views I represented. And what vehicle did Moller and Suckling choose to make their assault? They chose the protest I made at the 2012 Age Group Nationals regarding the depth of the Kilbirnie Pool.

For thirty minutes I was assaulted and bullied by a stream of questions clearly aimed at proving my protest was ill-timed and malicious; just another David Wright “beat-up”. Swimming New Zealand had clearly lobbied Moller and Suckling with their version of the Kilbirnie protest in order to discredit the author of the protest and trash his swimming views. Moller and Suckling appeared only too happy to gather evidence to support Mike Byrne’s “David Wright dirty tricks crusade”.

How else would you explain this series of questions?

• Why did you leave it until the first day of the meet to file your protest?
• Why haven’t you protested before?
• Were you working in collusion with the Auckland Swimming Region when you filed the protest?
• Are you going to take the protest further?
• Is the Auckland Swimming Region going to take the protest further?
• When did you find out about the depth of the Kilbirnie Pool?
• Who actually filed the protest and what was the sequence of events after that?
• What was the name of the Auckland Swimming Region’s team manager?
• What’s the name of the President of the West Auckland Aquatics Club?
• What prompted you to file the protest now?

And so it went on. Thirty minutes spent demanding to know why I had protested an illegal and dangerous pool. Thirty minutes spent trying to find out why I had protested and the procedure I had followed. Now there are two things I think are relevant about their line of interrogation.

First, what on God’s good earth did anything in this conference call have to do with the work of the Swimming New Zealand Review Committee? I do hope Moller and Suckling are not charging for the time they spent on this conference call. They are employed to investigate the structure of swimming in New Zealand; not the motives and method used by a West Auckland swim coach to file a protest at a swim meet. I can find nothing in the terms of reference directing the Committee’s work that suggests protests at a swim meet should draw this amount of attention. The motive for the call was only ever to establish that the protest was the work of a natural born trouble maker, hell bent on destroying the sport. Never mind the message, get the messenger and get him good.

Secondly, through the entire call, the laser-like focus of the conversation was the motive and process used by me to file the protest. Not one mention was made, not one question was asked, about the decision of Swimming New Zealand to send 650 swimmers headfirst into a pool that the world governing body of swimming, FINA, says is too shallow and is dangerous; like breaking your neck dangerous. All Moller and Suckling were interested in was, is David Wright a trouble maker and how can we manufacture this protest to prove it? Not one thought or question about the right to govern of Swimming New Zealand officials and employees who put their members in harm’s way and describe any effort to curb their irresponsibility as a “beat-up”. It is a sad day when the government of New Zealand’s money is spent finding fault with the reputation of a swimming coach ahead of the welfare and safety of 650 young people. The politics of swimming may be of interest to you Chris Moller and Sue Suckling. But you have no right or authority to put politics ahead of the good health of swimming members.

It is worthwhile repeating the Wikipedia definition of “dirty tricks”.

Dirty tricks are unethical, duplicitous, slanderous or illegal tactics employed to destroy or diminish the effectiveness of political or business opponents; manufactured, irrelevant, cruel and incorrect rumors or outright falsehoods designed to damage or destroy an opponent are easily described as dirty tricks. They serve to tie up the opponent into defending against and answering false charges rather than explaining their policies and platform.

Well I certainly spent a portion of yesterday tied up defending myself against and answering false charges rather than explaining my policies and platform. I guess that means Moller and Suckling have something in common with Richard Nixon. Certainly those that they work for appear to understand well the tactics of Watergate.

By David

In the last Swimwatch story I told you about Selwyn Pohio, one of the superstars of Hawke’s Bay swimming. In response to the story I got an email from another titan of that era, Quentin Tod. This is what his email said.

“Hi David: This is that Tod (with one D) bugger who apparently kicked you in the face in Lake Taupo. Sorry about that! I was through Taupo a few years back and found I still held the record at that point — one hour four minutes. That was some 40 years after I clocked that time.”

I must tell you, Quentin Tod is certainly worth a mention in Swimwatch. So is Greg Meade actually. But he will need to wait for another occasion.

Like Selwyn Pohio, Quentin Tod came from the select rural Hawke’s Bay village of Havelock North. Better than that, his home was well up the fashionable slopes of Te Mata Peak. Status and your Te Mata Peak elevation were pretty closely linked in those days. Quentin was different from most swimmers; slightly more serious, more reserved perhaps, certainly better mannered, even at that young age, almost distinguished. During one Hawke’s Bay/Poverty Bay Championship I stayed at his home. I remember it as a comfortable bungalow; a bit like an old jersey, warm, relaxing and secure.

In those days the Sunday of the Championship weekend was set aside for the open water race around Napier Harbour. Quentin was a long distance expert. I think he won a New Zealand Open Water championship and also placed first in the prestigious Wanganui Bridge to Bridge swim. In the late 1960s and early 1970s long distance races in Hawke’s Bay were a battle between Quentin Tod and another New Zealand open water champion, Alan Christie. Hawke’s Bay’s finest ruled the New Zealand open water swimming world.

Anyway back to my weekend at the Tod home. The family had devised a plan for the Sunday of the Championship weekend. Quentin would swim in the hugely popular cross Lake Taupo event in the morning, and take on Alan Christie in the Napier Port Championship swim in the afternoon. I thought they were quite mad. I did however accept their invitation to go to Taupo to watch Quentin swim across the lake. But, part way to Taupo, I began to put together a plan of my own. What say I entered the Taupo event and swam across right up close behind Quentin; using his slipstream to aid my progress. Surely I could sprint past him in the final few meters? Perhaps I could win the race.

And almost – that’s what happened. I carefully positioned myself behind the speeding Quentin Tod. In no time at all we were well ahead of the pack and, as planned, I was cruising along comfortably in Quentin’s wake. The whole thing was no effort at all; a breeze. This was going to be easy. Best of all the hard working Quentin was blissfully unaware of the free ride he was providing. And then the mistake; the fatal error. I got too close and touched Quentin’s foot.

Showing all his open water skills Quentin paused and then kicked as hard as he could. I was aware of his heel sinking into my nose. I felt the blood begin to flow. I saw the water turn red. I knew Quentin was sprinting and I was losing contact. Fifteen minutes later I came ashore in second place to be welcomed by a concerned Quentin Tod. “I’m really sorry” he said, “If I’d known it was you I’d have never kicked as hard”.

Of course I didn’t believe him. Perhaps I knew for certain that if some bugger had been trying to steal a free ride from me across Lake Taupo, the least he could expect was a kick in the nose. But, if Quentin happens to be reading this story, I’m still positive I would have out-sprinted the New Zealand Open Water Champion, if only I hadn’t touched his foot. And then I could have bored the national and Florida State champion’s I’ve coached, Toni Jeffs, Jane Copland, Nichola Chellingworth, Rhi Jeffrey, Jessica Marsden, Andrew Meeder and Joe Skuba  with the story of how I beat Quentin Tod across Lake Taupo. But I guess second will have to do. “If onlys” don’t seem to count.

Anyway we drove back to Hawke’s Bay the proud owners of the first and second place medals. At the time our prizes were most generous. I think Quentin got a TV set and a gold towel with “Champion” printed on one side. I also got something electrical and a red towel with “Second Place” printed on mine.  But Quentin’s day was far from done. In the early afternoon he lined up at the start of the Hawke’s Bay/Poverty Bay Open Water Championship; his second five kilometre race in a day. In Taupo he only had me to contend with, but now Alan Christie was in the field. This challenge was made of sterner stuff. But Quentin was prepared. An hour or so later he climbed out of Napier’s harbour in first place; clearly very tired by also well pleased with a good days work. I was hugely impressed. I’m not surprised that his one hour and four minute record swim across the lake stood as the record for the event for forty years. Quentin Tod was a class act – and I’m certain still is.

By David

I met Selwyn Pohio at the West Wave pool in Auckland this morning. I am certain most readers will be aware of the name. However, there may be some who are new to the sport and have not caught up with the significant events that forged this nation’s proud swimming history. For those unfortunates let me tell you about Selwyn Pohio.

Through the late 1960s and 1970s Selwyn and I competed together in Hawke’s Bay/Poverty Bay swimming. He came from the flash and pretty exclusive village of Havelock North in Hawke’s Bay. He was coached by John Beaumont and swam for the Trojan’s Swim Team. I came from Gisborne and swam for the Comet Swimming Club. I was coached by the most dominant personality and hardest worker I have met in swimming, Beth Meade. Her son Greg swam at the same time and is coach of the Comet Club today.

Actually, I lived just outside of Wairoa. Each Friday, after school, I travelled 100 kilometres by train to, what for me was the huge city of Gisborne. They were great days. Greg would meet me at the train. He was a good Catholic boy and was under orders to eat only fish on a Friday so, on the way to the pool, we called in at Gisborne’s fish and chips shop to collect our standing order of two pieces of fish and a scoop of chips. Then on to the Comet club night and Beth’s standing order of eight handicap races. The cold nights were made bearable by blankets shared with Rosemary Hewitt, Wendy Fitzgerald and Caroline Adie.

I don’t want you to think the warm blankets were any excuse to misbehave. Our evenings were closely monitored by “old-man Shaw”. He punished any miscreant with half an hour spent sitting in the unheated learner’s pool. Unfortunately, I need to confess to several cold half hour sessions in the McCrae bath’s learner’s pool. Once, I even managed two periods of confinement on the same night. Greg, of course, was far worse than me. He just didn’t get caught as often; bloody cunning bugger that Greg.

After club night, I spent the weekend at Beth’s place, training on Saturday and catching the train back to Wairoa on Sunday afternoon. Two hundred kilometres a week to get to club night, that must be some sort of record. Training during the week in Wairoa was also a bit difficult. There was no pool in those days so I training in the tranquil Hangaroa River. I’m actually quite pleased to have won provincial championships and swum in the national championships with no coach and just a river for company.

Anyway, enough of all that. The purpose of this story was to tell you about Selwyn Pohio. As I said he came from the high-brow community of Havelock North. Us, Poverty Bay sorts thought that was very posh. I guess it’s a bit like the relationship between WAQ westies and North Shore today. Looks like I’m destined to always swim on the wrong side of the tracks. I’m not saying Selwyn had it easy. The Havelock North pool, in those days, wasn’t heated. Selwyn tells me the pool opened for the summer at the end of October. One opening day there was still snow on TeMata peak behind the pool. Coach Beaumont urged his two best swimmers, including Selwyn, into action. Selwyn managed one length before retreating to the warmth of his parent’s car.

Selwyn Pohio, though, was a bloody good swimmer. I’m not sure whether he ever won an Age Group or Open Nationals. I do know he got medals in those competitions. In Hawke’s Bay/Poverty Bay he was a super star. The Championship, I remember most, was held in Gisborne. Selwyn was in his first year as a senior swimmer. Greg and I lay in wait, determined to teach this brash city kid a swimming lesson. The pain of the lesson he taught us, stays with me still. Selwyn Pohio went back to Havelock North with five championship gold medals. The city kid had come, had seen and had conquered.

However, as is the way with sport, the race I remember most from that year, is one that Greg won; the 440 yards individual medley. My backstroke was too bad for me to ever feature in a race between the Meade and Pohio giants. I spent most of the race swimming along with my head up watching the battle unfold; Greg ahead in the butterfly, but caught and passed in the backstroke and Greg drawing level in the breaststroke, before holding on by inches in the freestyle to win the title. I swam into the finish in third place just in time to watch Greg throw up his fish and chip dinner in the lane beside me. I was hugely impressed. They had to stop the Championship for half an hour to clean up the evidence of Greg’s effort.

Pohio and Meade were the titans of that Hawke’s Bay/Poverty Bay era. And here, today Selwyn Pohio wandered into the West Wave pool for a swim. He even asked if he could use one of the West Auckland Aquatic lanes. Could Selwyn Pohio swim in one of our lanes? You’d better believe it. And while he cruised up and down, as relaxed and smooth as ever, I explained to WAQ’s swimmers they were sharing their lane with swimming royalty. Maybe a few kilograms heavier than forty years ago; maybe not quite as fast, but Selwyn Pohio was right at home and most welcome.

After his swim Selwyn and I sat and reminisced. Did he, did I, remember Quinton Todd, Alan Cristie, Sandra Whitleston, Johnny Palmer and a dozen others. Perhaps it’s true. The older you get the better you were. I don’t know. Certainly the more fun, the better the times were. In fact, on the strength of Selwyn’s visit, I think I’ll pop out and pick up a meal of two fish and a scoop of chips. Thank you Greg Meade. Thank you Selwyn Pohio.