I am on my knees. Two lift breakdowns have turned my life upside down. The first I can fight to have repaired. The second does not respond to human intervention. All I can do is warn New Zealand of the failure likely to affect us all.

The first breakdown began three weeks ago when the lift, in our apartment block, broke down.  Eyad, who is not only a very good swimmer, but a final year engineering honours student warned me this kind of breakdown was usually the result of the lift’s electrical system failing to communicate with the mechanical system. Repairs, he said, could be quick and last five minutes or long, thorough and permanent.

Well three weeks later we have endured seven further breakdowns. Looks like Otis chose the “quick and five-minute” repair option. Finally, this week, the lift was stopped for two days while Otis’ mechanics resorted to a “long, thorough and permanent” solution.   

All that might not sound too serious. There are only 17 steps between the ground floor and our apartment. Walk up the stairs, I hear you say. It will do you good. That might be true in my case. But what about the two elderly ladies who own apartments on our level. Asking them to ascend 17 steps is as impossible as demanding they climb Everest without oxygen. Depending on the time of each breakdown, they had no option but to stay in their apartments or sleep in their cars. It was disgraceful and dangerous.

What surprised me most however was the lack of concern by many. The Chairman of the apartment owner’s committee sent a note to everyone saying the lift was not his problem. He won’t be getting my vote at the next AGM. The agent responsible for tenants also said the lift was not included in his duties.

Finally, Alison could take it no more. She let rip at Otis and the building management company, with threats of lawyers and financial compensation. I was impressed. So evidentially was Otis. The next time their mechanics appeared the “long, thorough and permanent” option had been chosen. Let’s hope their repair still works when I get home.

My second example of a lift not going all the way to the top is a breakdown forty odd years in the making. In this case the lift is underpowered. It is incapable of transporting the loads its owner jams into its tiny transport cabin. The “lift” in this case belongs to the author of the Facebook Kiwi Swimming page, Dave Crampton. I call it a lift. Roget’s Thesaurus refers to it as a brain.

I cannot repair the damaged organ. That task is beyond us all. I can however warn you that your journey on this lift will be erratic and will never reach the top floor.

For example, Kiwi Swimming’s latest breakdown told us this.

What’s crazy is that just three males have entered the 10k open water event. Who runs a “national championship” event for just three swimmers?

I understand that the broken elevator is trying to pass-off its problems onto Swimming New Zealand (SNZ). I did a quick check of two premiere sports in New Zealand – Canoe Racing and Athletics. Both have recently published the results of their National Championships. Canoe Racing had three events with four or less entries. Athletics had 19 events with four or less entries. The lift was taking New Zealand on a journey grounded in nothing but the author’s highly suspect imagination. The lift owes SNZ an apology.

Be warned Facebook readers. The trips you make in the Kiwi Swimming lift will not be reliable. This lift truly does not go all the way to the top.

Kiwi Swimming then spends 552 words explaining why the SNZ Covid declaration swimmers must sign before entering the National Championship cannot be answered honestly. I found the excuses impossible to understand. The lift had clearly stalled between floors. The SNZ declaration is pretty simple. Have you had Covid? Are you in close contact with someone who has Covid? Have you been vaccinated?

Eyad answered the questions and completed his entries in all of five minutes. But Eyad has an elevator that really does go to the top floor. Kiwi Swimming on the other hand had a dozen what-ifs. What if you said no to the “have you had Covid” question and before the Nationals you tested positive? What would you do?

I would do what any swimmer or coach would do. I’d pick up the phone, tell SNZ what had happened and ask, what should I do. I’m sure Steve Johns, Chloe Francis, Amanda White or Gary Francis would be happy to help. But of course, Kiwi Swimming cannot do that. Their lift’s emergency telephone is broken as well.

Our apartment lift broke down seven times in three weeks. That might sound bad. And it was. However, compared to the reliability of the Kiwi Swimming lift, the lift in our apartment ran like a finely tuned Swiss watch. Anyone taking a ride in the Kiwi Swimming lift, be sure to include a pinch of salt. The lift won’t get you anywhere near the top floor. But the salt will remind you to use another lift next time.