It is the first winter of the new century and there are still plenty of Aucklanders sleeping rough. NICK SMITH meets a veteran of 13 years on the streets.
The words carved on the crumbling marble gravestone are still legible: "Blessed are the poor in heart."
Maybe the 1890 epitaph for Arthur Brierly Culpan is a corruption of the Bible's words: "Blessed are the poor in spirit for they shall be comforted."
It is certainly an apt inscription for the man sleeping a mere metre away behind rusting iron bars.
Peter is one of Auckland's several hundred homeless, a 62-year-old who has called Grafton cemetery home for nearly 13 years.
If home is not the cemetery, then Peter can be found at the Domain grandstand, the Albert Park band rotunda or underneath Spaghetti Junction, near Hopetoun Bridge.
On this morning, he hunkers down in his thin Wintest sleeping bag that rests on a simple woollen blanket buffering him from the cold, consecrated ground.
Peter coughs, bringing up phlegm touched with blood. He is dying of lung cancer, a legacy not of his nicotine addiction but of the years spent inhaling diesel fumes.
But that was his former life, a "whole different world" away from his existence today.
He is reluctantly talking to the Herald about a day in the life of a homeless person. Peter is apprehensive that one of his three sons will try to get in touch when he reads about his father in the newspaper.
The only reason he is talking is to help the Auckland City Mission, which is launching its winter appeal.
"That's the only reason I agreed to do it. I didn't have to do it, but this place has done a lot for me and it's the only way I can pay it back."
By unflinchingly revealing the substance of his present life, he can help the fundraising effort of an organisation that has fed and clothed him since the sharemarket crash of 1987.
Black Monday wiped out his savings, and with debts to settle he sold the family home. Then came the health problems, a major operation and Peter was too crook to work.
That is only part of the story. He is estranged from his family, talking of a feud, while pride prevents him from seeking a sickness or unemployment benefit.
"I don't believe in it. I just don't believe in getting money that doesn't belong to me. It would feel like I'm robbing a bank."
Unlike many other homeless who anaesthetise themselves against the reality of street life by drinking steam - a health-destroying combination of methylated spirits and Coka-Cola - Peter is not an alcoholic.
His present situation seems to have arisen through a combination of circumstance, bad luck and stubbornness in not seeking social welfare assistance.
Other homeless have different stories. Each month, up to 600 people, about 200 of whom live on the streets, seek help from the Auckland City Mission.
City Missioner Diane Robertson says winter is the busiest period, with staff providing about 5000 people with emergency food, warm clothing and bedding.
"Homelessness isn't just limited to the glaring cases of people sleeping rough on city streets.
"Often we see families living in overcrowded conditions with friends or relatives because they have been unable to pay rent."
Methodist Missioner Charlie Fenwick says the number of homeless is increasing.
For the year ending June 1, the Methodist Mission provided beds for 5710 people, compared with 5300 in the previous year, while the number of meals shot up nearly 50 per cent to 32,757.
"That's not just seasonal," says Mr Fenwick. "There was a change in the sense of confidence and work available in May.
"Some of the light went out in May."
The Auckland City Mission is now working with Massey University to discover the exact size and extent of homelessness in Auckland.
The magnitude of the problem is difficult to calculate. Many of the beds provided, for example, may be for the same person several times. And, like Peter, the homeless may migrate around a number of agencies offering help in the city.
One of the people whom researchers will be talking to is Peter.
His day starts wherever he finds a bed for the night. During Wednesday's torrential downpour that flooded parts of Northland, he slept at the top of the Domain grandstand, where it is dry and warm.
From there, it is straight to the Auckland City Mission for tea, coffee and camaraderie.
Peter has forged strong friendships during the past 13 years, a bond based on hardship and loyalty. It is said that misery loves company, but this is one crowd that sticks together because it is dangerous on the streets.
The biggest peril is posed by young street kids. Peter is lucky - the older street kids look after him, and word is that there will be severe consequences for the teenager who dares to injure the man who is respected by his fellow homeless.
His itinerant lifestyle has even allowed him a brush with fame. When the crew of Once Were Warriors dumped wrecked cars underneath Spaghetti Junction for use as props during filming, who should be nearby?
"They dropped these cars off and I woke up and got a hell of a fright because I thought someone had gone over [the bridge]."
As it was, he made friends, was given food and even managed to make it into the film. Not a speaking part, of course.
Auckland City Mission staff call Peter and his mates the "youngies," an ironic reference to their age. Every morning they sit at the same table, laughing, talking and generally causing trouble.
"Then I go down to the old Finance Plaza. I sit, read and play patience."
Today he is struggling through Maeve Binchy's Firefly Summer. Circle of Friends, by the same author, was great reading, but her latest is a trial.
Lunch varies, or is sometimes nonexistent, but yesterday Peter headed up to Levi's Place at St Stephens Church on Jervois Rd, which offers tea, coffee, buns and bread every Thursday at 11.30 am.
"Every third Monday of the month, they have what I call pig-out day. At quarter to 12, everything shuts down and we say grace and then the food comes out. It's a hot meal.
"Then I go back to the Finance Plaza, sit down and read my book and have a nap. Then I head to the library."
Because he is officially of no fixed abode, Peter cannot get a library card, but reading is not his main motivation.
"It's warm; sometimes it can be over-warm. They never seem to get that temperature right."
About 6 pm, Peter gathers outside the Auckland City Mission again for his evening meal. The "youngies" are allowed in early for their meal; the other indigents have to wait until 7 pm.
Does his daily routine sound comfy?
"I'm not happy in this situation. It's a hard life and there are plenty of knocks. I've been so used to having a roof over my head and family and different things and working.
"I've got three boys, but don't ask me where they are. One has got a young family of his own. I've seen them once and I'm proud."
So why has Peter not tried to change his circumstances? His ill-health is distressingly evident, and the pride that precludes asking for handouts condemns him to poverty.
Now the bad weather is closing in and Peter is off to search for dry and warm accommodation. Maybe it will be the Domain grandstand, or perhaps under Grafton Bridge.
The last sight is of Peter disappearing into the mist and rain.
Additional reporting: Katherine Hoby
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