The price of victory

It is easy to picture John Gray walking through the departure gate for his day job, tall and upright in his uniform with that pilot's air of calm control.

But for two years, Gray has led a double life: airline pilot by profession, bush lawyer in his downtime.

Since discovering his Ponsonby townhouse was riddled with rot, Gray has used every available moment to pursue justice, representing himself and his neighbours in a landmark leaky-homes claim.

The load he has carried eased considerably last Friday when the weathertight homes service awarded Gray and six other claimants $700,000.

For Gray, just promoted to Airbus captain with Air New Zealand, his $116,000 award was a moment for quiet elation. But no amount of money could compensate for the stress and anxiety the owners had endured since defects in the Ponsonby Gardens townhouses began to show seven years ago.

The service hailed the award as proof that although leaky building cases are complex, "ordinary" owners with a sound case who are willing to persevere will eventually get compensation.

Gray is not so sure. "What we have done is not achievable by the average claimant. It was a huge effort. I was just lucky that I had some idea of where to start and developed it as we went."

Built by Tim Manning's Taradale Properties in 1996, the 10 townhouses - down a long driveway in a leafy street of villas - had an attractive, low-maintenance look. Gray liked the quirky, boathouse design and proximity to Ponsonby cafes, and paid nearly $500,000 for his house.

"I'd owned houses in the past which I had to renovate - I didn't want to go through that again. I was so wrong."

Each of the owners spent between $70,000 and $100,000 on repairs, architects' reports, expert fees and remedial painting. Two lost rental income before and during repairs that would take eight months.

Most of the Ponsonby Gardens buyers were, like Gray, skilled professionals. They included doctors and educators - jobs subject to strict quality and safety regulation and monitoring. What irked Gray was how the construction of a house, where safety and durability were surely paramount, could be so studded with defects - and that the faults could be missed by the regulator, the Auckland City Council.

"At Air New Zealand, there's a no- blame, no-shame safety culture - 'we've got a problem, let's fix it', even if it's millions of dollars of downtime.

"With a building, you may not end up with 200 people dead but you're still talking about safety and loss of humanity."

As with most leaky buildings, the townhouse problems took a few years to show. Water was seeping in through the decks, around doors and windows, through the stucco and weatherboard cladding. Parapets, balconies and windows were inadequately flashed; cladding driven into the ground in places was sucking up water. Behind the cladding, instead of the ventilating cavity shown in the plans, a wood-fibre backing was soaking up water like a sponge.

When, in response to the leaky buildings scandal, the Government set up the weathertight homes resolution service, Gray was one of the first to apply. His barrister thought it a better option than the courts: the service promised to resolve leaky building disputes in a "speedy, flexible and cost-effective manner", without crippling legal fees, delays and uncertainty. Gray's claim, number 27, was lodged in February 2003.

The other owners decided to pool their claims, with Gray representing them. The act seemed to encourage claimants to represent themselves - they could bring a lawyer, but they could not claim legal expenses. And Gray knew something of construction, having worked on building sites for his father's central heating firm in his youth.

Most claimants opt for mediation but the Ponsonby Gardens owners weren't willing to accept the inevitable compromise and secrecy of that process. They wanted a public hearing in front of an adjudicator able to apportion blame and costs.

Adjudicators, selected for their industry knowledge and mediation skills, have sweeping powers to conduct hearings "as they see fit" and to question witnesses directly.

"Our understanding was that you sit around the table with builders and council people and the adjudicator sorts it out - not legalese, not clever lawyers."

They could not have been more wrong. The pursuit of justice would require a pilot's self-control and sense of direction - plus bucketfuls of determination.

Gray's career was threatened and he would turn down a promotion. He used all his annual leave and spent recovery time from long-haul flights in Japan, Tahiti and Singapore in hotel rooms, sending and obtaining documents between claimants, respondents and legal advisers by laptop.

During demolition, he had cross-sections cut out of walls and around windows, then bagged and labelled them with their moisture content, to provide evidence for the hearing.

He became an expert on the Building Act and building code and tracked down documents from the early 90s to counter arguments that the construction faults that created leaky buildings were simply not known about at the time.

"The council says it didn't turn its mind to weathertight issues but things like flashings have always been a prime concern of any tradesperson."

But the sparring, arranging to get the house repaired and work on the claim took a considerable toll. His relationships with partner Lorraine and friends and family suffered. The couple could not entertain guests. Their first son, Taylor, was born in July 2003 with demolition work under way, noise and dust a constant nuisance.

Gray developed a stress-related heart condition and withdrew from promotion to a Boeing 737 captain's position, forgoing a $20,000 salary boost. Toxic mould spores led to successive respiratory tract infections.

It took 18 months of inspections, assessors' reports, research, evidence gathering, pre-conference hearings and submission-writing to get to the hearing proper.

The council would not even identify building inspectors who had visited the property and its records of the project were woefully lacking. Manning could produce few financial records.

Gray hung in, propelled by "an overwhelming sense of injustice in terms of the ineptitude of people in positions of responsibility, given what they owe the community. These are people who earn a lot of money out of the community.

"Initially, I was trying to get justice for us as claimants. Then it became a bit of a campaign to see it through adjudication so the whole sorry mess could be exposed - so people could see the process and what needs to be done."

When the hearing finally began last October, Gray found himself against five lawyers, headed by prominent QC Rodney Harrison, for the Auckland City Council. Harrison routinely raised objections, advising Gray not to coach the witness, or introduce new issues.

Gray, his face scarred by ongoing laser surgery for melanomas, remained cool under fire.

The only time I heard him swear was when he talked about the amount of time lost with his young son Taylor. "He doesn't see much of me nowadays," he said. "I'm buried in the bloody office."

After the case finished, in December, he failed a medical because of his respiratory condition and needed treatment before he was cleared for Airbus training.

By then, Gray was apprehensive, thrown by the council's efforts to "fetter" the adjudicator, Tony Dean, in closing submissions. He regretted going in without a lawyer.

The claimants, expecting a decision by Christmas, waited three more months for the outcome of a district court appeal on another case that threatened the powers of adjudicators.

Dean's eventual ruling has partially restored Gray's faith that the system can work - however slowly. He says the weathertight act was hastily conceived and needs tweaking. Applicants should be able to claim legal costs - so they can bring a lawyer - and claim for building defects other than just external leaks.

"Claimants shouldn't be bullied into mediation and not recover their costs, but they need to do their homework. If you're in a home that you're concerned about - get into it."

For Gray, however, it is time to limit his role as an unofficial consultant to hundreds of leaky-home owners and get back to his day job - and his family.