Water’s divine, especially when you can’t find it
What defines civilisation? Fire, perhaps? The ability to generate a spark and control an inferno? What’s more fundamental still? How about plain old H20? Water puts out fire. The Roman aqueducts were so impressive that not even The People’s Front of Judea could argue the point. On Monday night something went wrong with the Hamilton aqueducts. Arising from our beds for late ablutions and bodily necessities, my wife and I turned taps and nothing happened. A distinctive lack of flow. If the well wasn’t dry, the pipes were. The sound of rasping emptiness instead of the usual torrent. Panic set in almost immediately. If there was sufficient build-up in the cistern for an understated flush, hands could not be washed. Hygienic consequences did not bear thinking about. And what of the morning? Is it even possible to start the day without a triple dose of caffeine? How much water was in the jug? Then there’s showers to think about. The prospect of going 24 hours or more, hair greasy, skin shiny, an extra rolling of deodorant the only thing between you and the dreaded body odour? Were we about to join the ‘great unwashed’? Irrationally, I began to think about dehydration, decline and even death. True, the stockpiles of whisky and gin and pernod were sufficient to see us through the week. During the location shoot of The African Queen, Humphrey Bogart and John Huston proved you could live on spirits alone, whilst co-star Katharine Hepburn and other high-minded wowsers succumbed to dysentery. However, I doubt this is sustainable in the long term. What luck that we live across the road from a pub. The Londoner, a cultural oasis at the north end of town, could again come in handy, in a less figurative sense, offering beer and wine options as well. There’s nothing like variety in one’s diet. But can you brush your teeth with pilsner? As it turned out, as apparent by the proximity and noise of trusty workers toiling through the night, the problem was fixed. Getting up at 7.05am to crank the household into action, a clockwise rotation of the kitchen sink tap resulted in a splutter, then a steady stream. The drought had been broken. Unfortunately, in the testing of her shower hours before, Janine had not quite returned the dial to the central ‘off’ position. It had, therefore, been ‘on’ for some time. Suspiciously, her bathroom was not full of steam. An indication that all the hot water had long since drained away. Instead, there was a very damp bath mat. The crisis over, I was left with an existential sense of unease. How quickly the veneer of civilisation had been stripped away. How close we came to a primal state. Without running water and flushing bogs we are but filthy animals. God bless the Hamilton City Council for their prompt response. God bless Andrew King and his rates increases.
Of course, at the other end of the Victoria St, a water shortage persists. The Municipal Pools were drained in their centennial year, 2012. They have been dry ever since. No, I tell a lie. In 2015, 40 or 50 of the city’s finest citizens gathered to relive the old times, treating themselves to a grand pool party. The liquid was flowing that night, if precious little of it water. The last occasion on which the Hamilton public enjoyed the public pools, the homeless and the down-and-outs demonstrating a good deal more gumption than the politicians who let the facilities fall into a state of tragic disrepair. A decision is pending to finish the pools off. Resource consent is being sought to demolish yet another iconic city structure. It’s as though Hamilton had a vendetta against the year 1912. That’s also the year St. Mary’s Church was completed in Grey St, along with its presbytery building. In its wisdom, the Catholic Church bulldozed the former in 1975, the latter in 2016. Maybe civilisation is something more than fire or working aqueducts. Maybe it involves an acknowledgment and preservation of the past, an appreciation of aesthetics, history and culture. The barbarian destroys things. The civilised person reflects, repairs and sustains. There is an alternative to further heritage destruction. A plan for the refurbishment of The Municipal Pools has been mooted since their closure. If $1 million can be found for demolition and $6 million found for questionable property acquisition up the road, don’t tell me the city cannot afford it.