Joanna Wane: Lockdown lessons from Outward Bound

All for one and one for all - Rutherford Watch pushes beyond the comfort zone. Photo / Lynley Lott

Lockdown has been described as society's version of an Outward Bound course. Joanna Wane finds there are lessons to be learnt from that.

There were 12 members in our watch, Rutherford 598, when we gathered at Outward Bound's Anakiwa base in the Marlborough Sounds seven years ago. By day four, we were one down.

Our adopted motto was "To Suffer and Serve" — borrowed from a posh private school in the UK — and we took it to heart with the humour and humility of age, surrounded by gaggles of youth in their prime.

We'd come from Mosgiel, Tūātapere, Christchurch, Taranaki, Tokoroa, Gisborne, Hamilton and Auckland. Among our ranks were an artist, an architect, a nurse, a council worker, a supermarket owner, a business manager, an aspiring police officer and a free spirit who ate coconut oil from a jar by the spoonful.

The 8-day "masters" course was for those aged 40-plus, and our bodies were in varying states of mid-life decay. After an 11-hour mountain hike, one teammate was forced to drop out when an old injury flared up. The snoring in the communal dorm was so thunderous, I wrote in a story at the time, the youngest in our group decamped with her mattress to the bathroom.

In a way, it was like living in lockdown but without the 1pm briefings. For a week, we were cut off from the rest of the world. No phones, no internet access, no caffeine. Even my Kindle was confiscated. Mostly, we lived in a bubble that extended to the jetty, where we jumped into the freezing water, fully clothed, for our mandatory daily swims.

One night, we tramped into the bush with our packs and a poo bucket to spend the next 36 hours on "solo". I thought I'd be scared, all alone in the dark. And I did feel vulnerable that first night, terrorised by a possum as I struggled to string up my tarpaulin in the pitch black. But I loved it.

Below my campsite, fantails danced by a sunlit creek. I wouldn't say my thoughts were particularly profound, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd been able to simply sit quietly with them. I may even have sung. When we were collected, one by one, on the second morning, I didn't want to leave.

Writer Joanna Wane at Outward Bound during an 11-hour mountain hike. Photo / Lynley Lott

Two years later, we had a reunion in Auckland, and a few of us stayed in touch. For some, that week with Rutherford Watch has been a truly transformative experience.

"It was life-changing," says Gerard, who's moved to Waipukurau, where he and his wife own the New World supermarket. Every year, they sponsor a staff member to do an Outward Bound course. They also go, separately, on an annual yoga retreat.

"It was my first real introduction to mindfulness, not that they called it that," he says. "The physical stuff, I could do that okay. But the empathy thing was really strong for me, and seeing other people give it 100 per cent."

You can be cold, wet and miserable, the instructors would tell us, or cold, wet and happy. It's all about choosing your mindset. When I got home, I used that on my kids so often it drove them crazy.

The OB tagline is "Plus est en vous" (there is more in you), and every single one of us discovered hidden reserves. Since completing the course, Dee has walked the entire length of New Zealand on the Te Araroa trail, covering much of the North Island by herself. After years in admin, Lynley retrained and now has a job in a joinery workshop. "For me, [Outward Bound] was about being in the present and aware of opportunities. Just thinking, 'No excuses.'" Mandy has two young grandsons and reached her goal ranking in squash.

Therese, a nurse from Christchurch, arrived at Anakiwa bruised by a marriage break-up. Now her Facebook feed is flooded with photos of her adventures, from doing Stump the Hump with her brother (a single-day walk of the 62km Hump Ridge track) to dragon-boat regattas and tramping with her new partner, Will. "When I came back, people at work said it was like a switch had been turned. I just had a different attitude."

Elation after a successful ascent of the climbing wall. The second time, everyone did it blindfolded. Photo / Lynley Lott

Mark, a father of four, was out of work and in "a bit of a slump" when his wife encouraged him to sign up. Within weeks, he'd landed a good job. The couple have since fostered three children from their extended family and relocated to a lifestyle block in the country.

"We didn't know each other from bars of soap, but everybody was on everybody's else's side," he says. "You always had someone there supporting you all the way."

Last year, the pandemic closed down Outward Bound for four months. School director Simon Graney hopes they won't face that kind of disruption this time round (courses can operate at level 2).

There are lessons to be learned from spending time in isolation, he says. The experience of going on solo is a rare gift of time for self-reflection, with the freedom and space to examine the kind of person you want to be.

"That has lots of resonance with thoughts about what sort of 'normal' we want to return to after the last lockdown. How do we want the world to look? What sort of existence do we want for ourselves and society? This is our opportunity to get it right."