No Pikers on the Coast

This past week – like the majority of New Zealanders – I’ve been transfixed by newspaper, radio, internet and TV reports for the latest updates on the Pike River Coal Mine disaster. I desperately clung out for good news that the trapped miners could be saved and this story would have a happy ending. Sadly – for the 29 unfortunate men underground – their families and friends, the West Coast and the rest of the country – there was no happy outcome to this tragedy.
A second explosion deep in the mine on Wednesday afternoon extinguished the last flicker of hope that any of the 29 would be brought out alive – even if some of them had miraculously survived the initial blast of the Friday before.
And while this six day ordeal ended up with the worst possible outcome and the tragic loss of 29 men’s lives, it also bought out the best and worst in human nature and behaviour.
While we wait to see if the 29 bodies can be recovered and returned to their families or if the mine will forever remain their tomb, and before all the inquiries into why and how this happened, I want look back on the week’s events and how things unfoiled.
It all started on the afternoon of Friday, 19 November, when the country was rocked –both literally and metaphorically – by the news that there had been a major explosion in a coal mine at Pike River, on the South Island’s West Coast, and a number of men were missing. Immediately, Pike River’s Australian chief executive, Peter Whittall fronted the media and explained the situation as he understood it.
During the next six days – via twice daily media conferences – Whittall became the public face of this tragedy and the epitome of how adversity brings out the best in human nature. Whittall's tireless communications outlining the efforts being made to rescue these men, along with his hound dog features, are now indelibly etched on the nation’s conscious.
This empathetic, knowledgeable, caring and likeable character really lived up to the old maxim: “Cometh the hour; cometh the man”!
Another man to shine in the leadership stakes was Grey District mayor Tony Kokshoorn. His undaunting support for both the families and his community, coupled with his level-headed manner and ability sum up people’s feelings was remarkable. Kokshoorn’s confidence in the Coasters capacity to overcome this disaster and apt description that “coal dust ran in the DNA of the Coast” showed just how in touch he was with his community.
Another who stood up and out, in very difficult circumstances, was Tasman District police commander Gary Knowles the man charged with overseeing this most difficult operation. Despite coming under hostile, ill-informed and unfair criticism - from some parts of the media, family members and others, for not sending in people immediately to mount a rescue, he stood firm. Unfortunately, Knowles’ cautious and defiant stance not to risk any more lives until it was safe to do so, proved to be 100 per cent correct when the second explosion occurred.
Then there were those who did not equip themselves so well during this event. This included those aforementioned parts of the media – especially some of the Australians who flew over to cover the disaster – their boorish, smart-arsed and ill logical bagging and derision of Gary Knowles over the way he was handling the rescue operation. As yet, these arm chair experts, have failed to acknowledge Knowles’ call was right and they were wrong.
However, I have to save my biggest brickbat for the father of one of the lost men – Laurie Drew. While understandably upset and concerned about his missing son, Zen, Mr Drew did himself, his son or his family no favours by his complaints, strange conspiracy theories and behaviour. Drew’s claims of concern for his son seemed to get lost in the haze of his love affair with the media spotlight and attention it gave him. (In my opinion, if Laurie Drew really cared so much for his son in the first place, then he would not have given the boy such a silly name like Zen!)
Despite these minor glitches and the huge loss of their 29 men, the Coast and its community have come out of this tragic ordeal with their reputations greatly enhanced and a far better understanding for their plight from the rest of the country.