Hastings has lost, in my humble opinion, a giant totara. I have lost a close friend, 100s have lost a loyal work colleague, the region has lost a “can do” ambassador.
I first met Nigel years before he became CE, when he spoke at an Apples for Peers conference in Napier. I remember being struck by his immense energy as he walked backwards and forwards on the stage, sharing all sorts of numbers around NZ’s RSE scheme. He was the kind of person who left an impression before you even knew his name.
So when he turned up a few years later as a candidate for the new Chief Executive role at Hastings District Council, it caught my attention. He wasn’t the classic CE. Far from it.
He wasn’t always impeccably dressed with matching manners. He was, in fact, the opposite: real, direct, and entirely unashamed of it. He was the boy from Porirua.
You could see immediately that if he got the job, he would be a chief executive that bucked the norm, the antithesis of the red tape and bureaucracy that so often defines the role.
We liked what he had to say, but a first interview wasn’t quite enough to convince us. We brought him back for a second round, and again he laid out his vision, his passion, and his commitment to Hastings and its people.
He wasn’t from here, and I’ll admit to a healthy dose of scepticism about whether that commitment would hold. It did. From that day on, Nigel stayed true to the cause, and went on to leave an indelible mark on our region.
Nigel was from Porirua, the rough edge of Wellington and home of North’s Rugby Club, and rugby was one of the things that bonded us early on. His son Paul played for Napier Marist, and we’d have running bets on who would win when Marist came up against my beloved Havelock North. The first time Havelock North got the better of them, a bottle of good red wine turned up on my doorstep, delivered with a big smile and a few well-chosen swear words.
What made Nigel different was that he was equally at home in the council chambers, in a board meeting, at a homeless shelter, or wandering through Cornwall Park on a sunny Saturday as part of Multicultural Day, singlet on, tattoos on show, and that big welcoming smile doing most of the talking. Blending in as a “Stings” resident.
I’ll never forget running into him at the farmers market, gumboots, singlet, hat, and thinking: this guy is the real deal. Someone who could mix and walk among everyone, not just the few.
Porirua and Flaxmere have a lot in common, and Nigel saw that immediately. He dedicated himself to lifting a suburb that many in the district had written off, and he loved looking after those who needed it most.
Alongside Sandra, Henare O’Keefe, Henry Heke, and others of us who’d lived and loved Flaxmere, dedicated to wanting better for it, he set out to make it “Fabulous Flaxmere.”
As he put it, Flaxmere already had the best park in New Zealand. Under his watch, it was also in line for a new shopping precinct, a new supermarket, new housing for the elderly, new social housing, and a new home for horse racing with a new track and events centre. Wherever the district was doing it tough, Nigel would roll up his sleeves and make things happen.
The job was not an easy one. Nigel had the perfect partner in Mayor Sandra Hazelhurst. Their visions for Hastings weren’t always identical, but that was exactly the point. It was in supporting each other through the differences that they achieved so much together. The rest of us on council were just along for the ride and to feed off their positivity.
Covid brought us all closer, and it showed how Nigel would step up for the people of the place he called home. Cyclone Gabrielle showed it again, and then some.
I remember speaking with him the day after the cyclone hit. He’d been out for a drive around the district and, at that point, wasn’t yet sure how severe it was. Within hours, the scale became clear, and he moved into action. For the two years that followed, he made it his mission to see Hastings and Hawke’s Bay return to the prosperity we all wanted for it. Just before Christmas one year, he picked me up at home and drove me around all of the many projects that would create economic and social prosperity for our people.
He seemed to run on pure energy, the energiser bunny fuelled by nicotine chews after years of smoking.
During Covid, he had hundreds of hangi put down to make sure people in this district didn’t go without kai.
He also carried real mana in central government, built over years working in Wellington, and his mentor Sir Brian Roche was among those keen to draw him back into a role there.
Nigel had one eye on what might come next in his career, but he was never in a hurry to leave the home he’d adopted as his own. Between his standing with government decision makers and the trust he’d earned with local business leaders, he can be credited with bringing well over a billion dollars of investment into projects across Hastings and Hawke’s Bay, and more than a few events and charities benefited from a well-placed phone call to a donor on their behalf.
Nigel wasn’t only someone I deeply respected as a chief executive. He was someone I loved working alongside, and someone I loved having a Brave beer with.
When I went through my own difficult time after losing the mayoralty election, he was the first person to reach out, to grab a coffee, and to tell me it would be alright. He’d find something to keep me busy.
Within a few weeks he called and asked for my help with his Movember fundraiser last November, one he’d convinced most of council staff to join by walking thousands of steps a day.
The whole thing started because someone took a cheap shot at his appearance, comparing him to a “doughnut-eating Homer Simpson.”
Rather than let it needle him, Nigel turned it into fuel: he got active, got fit, and lost weight, and brought half the organisation along with him.
Towards the end of November, he called me to talk about how to finish the campaign with a bang. Between us, playing on the fact that the finale would be held next to Brave Brewery, we landed on the idea of a mass shave-off: the Brave Shave. It raised even more money for a cause that mattered to him.
When I heard the sad news yesterday, it was fitting, not ironic, that I happened to be wearing a t-shirt he’d given me. It said “Hastings to the core.” That was Nigel, summed up in three words.
That was Nigel all over. He was everybody’s first call. Whether it was a friend, a colleague, or someone in the wider community who needed a solution, a hand, or just someone to listen, Nigel was there. He was incredibly supportive off and a big advocate for The Profit business magazine the the Unleashed business event series – due to celebrating inspiring local leaders.
In my opinion, there has never been, and will never be, another chief executive quite like him. A leader for the people, by the people, for the people
He aha te mea nui o te ao
What is the most important thing in the world?
He tangata, he tangata, he tangata
It is the people, it is the people, it is the people
