Million-dollar view, shame about the house

Saturday, 18 February 2012

Christchurch businessman Philip Carter was in an elevator at a Bangkok hotel when he saw what was left of his clifftop Sumner home on CNN TV.

Coverage of the June 13 aftershocks – the biggest since February 22 – flashed around the world, and Carter's plunging home quickly became another symbol of Christchurch's destructive year.

The force of the magnitude 5.7 and 6.3 quakes (later upgraded to 5.9 and 6.4), took 15 metres off the cliff above Peacocks Gallop in places. Carter's Kinsey Tce house was one of those places.

Forced from the property after the February 22 quake, the possibility of more damage was not at the forefront of Carter's mind.

'I'd heard about the earthquake and I'd been on the phone to work,' he said. 'But I didn't know about the house.'

As Carter was learning via an American cable news channel, his house had quickly became the most photographed and publicised in Christchurch.

Parts of what looked like a bedroom and the hallway were exposed to the elements and building material was strewn over the cliffside.

The dining room, sitting room, kitchen and master bedroom sat among rubble at the bottom of the cliff.

Carter had been in the house three years, and spent most of that time adding the finishing touches.

Although the earthquakes brought tragic and total loss, they also brought Carter some perspective: 'The house … is only a thing and it doesn't matter. Even though I've put a lot of energy into that house, the earthquake changed me because you realise these things are only things. They're not that important.

'I was very lucky none of my immediate family was killed.'

June 13 might have been Kinsey Tce's time in the media spotlight, but it has not been far from the headlines since February 22.

A huge fracture opened up in the road that day, exposing water and sewerage pipes and attracting a swarm of geotechnical experts to measure how far the ground had moved and decide if the entire hillside might give way.

It only took one day to decide the risk was too great.

Gail Dowgray, whose house on the far side of the cliff survived the quakes, remembers being abruptly told to leave on the night of February 23.

'[My neighbour] decided we should all get together for a barbecue because the steaks weren't going to last. There was no electricity,' she said.

'We were all down there in the evening after this surreal day and night being very sophisticated, drinking gin and tonics.

'Suddenly there's about six policemen under his balcony saying, 'You've got five minutes; you've got to get out now. Go.''

Dowgray spent the next month staying with her son in Avonside, but started sneaking home after a couple of weeks to clean the place up.