Booze test dummies

Drivers Penny Ashton, Justine Smith, Ewen Gilmour and Cori Gonzalez-Macuer fuel up with help from barman Ben Quigan. Photo / Janna Dixon

Cori Gonzalez-Macuer, a skinny Chilean-New Zealand comic, is behind the wheel of a late-model BMW. He's been drinking. In an hour-and-a-half he has downed eight bottles of beer. He knows he's over the legal limit, but he presses the ignition button anyway.

"I'm feeling good," he says, his lithe 74kg frame showing little visible effect from his binge on Becks. Good enough to drive? "I think so. Well, I'm not okay to drive, but I'll think I'll do okay."

Ewen Gilmour, a Westie comedian, tries to intervene at the driver's side window: "Don't do it, mate. Don't do it."

But his friend won't be deterred: "Don't worry. I'm sweet, bro."

And, with a gun of the four-cylinder diesel engine and a heavy-metal track blaring on the stereo, Gonzalez-Macuer is off. Within a matter of seconds he is pushing corners hard and rocketing along at 80km/h. But when the road narrows, the vehicle veers a little to the left and gets close to the edge. Too close. There's a thud, and Gonzalez-Macuer has officially left the road.

Fortunately this drive, run under controlled conditions at Pukekohe Park racetrack by BMW Advanced Driver Training, has only killed eight road cones. "That's a full strike," says BMW's Mike Eady of the now-scattered row of orange markers.

As Gonzalez-Macuer parks the car clumsily at the end of his test, Eady shakes his head at the driver's drunken performance. "He had more hits than Michael Jackson."

On Wednesday, on a sunny afternoon south of Auckland, Gilmour and Gonzalez-Macuer were joined by fellow comics Penny Ashton and Justine Smith for a Herald on Sunday special investigation into the effects of drink-driving.

This was no laughing matter. The findings - about the effects of alcohol on driving ability and the amount New Zealanders are legally allowed to drink before getting behind the wheel - are shocking and will make sobering reading for the public and the two government agencies which manage the tricky legal relationship between automobiles and alcohol.

According to a speech given by Transport Minister Steven Joyce this month, and starkly confirmed by this experiment, you can drink the better part of a bottle of wine or a six-pack of beer in a mere 90 minutes and still be legally - if not practically - safe to drive.

The Law Commission and the Ministry of Transport are looking at the cost of drink-driving and what can be done to reduce it. Alcohol-related crashes killed 119 people last year, a figure that has plateaued since major improvements were made in road safety the early 1990s.

Both agencies have flagged as a possible solution a reduction in the amount of alcohol drivers can drink before breaking the law - but the earliest any law change will be implemented is October next year.

What this means is that Joyce has, inadvertently, told drinkers they can get away with far more before getting behind the wheel than they may have thought. There is a danger of complacency. And, on the road, there is a danger of something far worse.

The four comedians were recruited as guinea pigs for this experiment, as their profession is well known for taking the piss. Given that their performance venues are often bars, and comedians are often on the road, drink-driving is considered a professional hazard.

The crime is also a staple of stand-up routines, as illustrated by a joke that Gilmour has been telling for seven years: "You should never drink and get behind the wheel, but nothing sobers you up like a good drive."

Eady and his colleague Martin Collins constructed a battery of tests around the 2.8km raceway, allowing their trained eyes to assess drivers' ability to brake in an emergency, change lanes, and swerve to avoid obstacles. "We're testing the sorts of things you'd normally do on the road," says Eady.

To get a baseline comparison, the four were assessed while sober and then, as the afternoon progressed, they were administered carefully measured quantities of alcohol by Ben Quigan, a barman at the Lobby Bar at Auckland's Hyatt hotel.

After two standard drinks they were re-tested on the racetrack, then again after four more drinks, and a final run was conducted after 10 standard drinks had been consumed in total. Each time, just before they got behind the wheel, Gavin Foster of SoberCheck conducted breath-checks using the Drager Alcotest 6510 breathalyser, the same model used roadside by police.

The first eye-opening result came before any the tops of any bottles were cracked. Gilmour, who performs next month at Aotearoha at the Bruce Mason Centre, forgets to take off the handbrake and knocks over a couple of road cones while easing the car out of the park at the start of the test.

Despite the early mishaps, and another cone knocked over on the course, BMW instructor Martin Collins is impressed with the driving skills of the one-time Waitakere City councillor. "He was pretty good, to be honest."

Eady says New Zealanders often have an inflated sense their own driving ability. All four comedians rate themselves above average, but all four run into difficulties during their first dry run. Eady has put many drivers through this sort of test and he says most have trouble completing what should be basic driving tasks.

Our lack of skill behind the wheel is a long-held bugbear of BMW managing director Mark Gilbert. Billions of dollars spent annually on new roads are not matched by an investment in driver training, he says.

"Someone can get a licence at the age of 15 and not have any other kind of testing until their eyes fail at 65. There are not many areas of your life that you're not encouraged to upskill, but driving is one of them."

Bad habits learned early tend to stay with drivers throughout their lives and the BMW instructors ping everyone - except Gilmour - for poor hand position on the wheel. Gonzalez-Macuer rates his own driving as "pretty good", but Collins begs to differ.

"His general driving is poor, he doesn't see the road ahead, his braking is absolutely awful," says the man who sits in the back seat during each test drive and rates each run on a clipboard. "I wouldn't want to drive with him," he says. And the drinking hasn't even begun.

* * *

As the bartender pours the first of many drinks, conversation around the makeshift trackside bar turns to the prevalence of drink-driving. From Outrageous Fortune actor Tammy Davis to Morning Report presenter Sean Plunket, convictions for being drunk behind the wheel can be found throughout New Zealand society.

A recent survey conducted by the Drug Foundation found that more than one in five respondents admitted to having driven drunk, a figure that surprises Ashton. "Really? I thought it'd be more than that."

Gonzalez-Macuer also believes the survey result significantly underplay the issue. "I don't know a single one of my friends who hasn't driven drunk." Indeed, one of his close friends was recently collared by police for driving more than three times over the legal limit, and Gonzalez-Macuer says she wasn't noticeably drunk when she got home a couple of hours later.

Gilmour hasn't been convicted for drink-driving, but he says he has come close. After being summoned aboard the police booze bus, the comedian was asked to give an evidential blood test. "I blew a 380. The cop wanted me to try again, but I said It's not the best out of five, mate'."

The breath-alcohol limit in New Zealand is presently 400 micrograms per litre of breath. It's one of the highest in the OECD and the Law Commission has floated a proposal that it would be lowered to 250mcg/l, a proposal the Ministry of Transport is also looking at. After two standard drinks, all four comedians easily test under this proposed new limit - with results ranging from 90 to 160mcg/l.

In the 1990s, public advertising calling for responsible drinking and driving recommended that people have only two standard drinks in the first hour, and one each hour thereafter.

Ashton, who was employed during this period to perform a song-and-dance routine in bars promoting the message, is perplexed to hear that the legal limit is much, much higher. "But they're schupposedly the same," she says, already slurring after only two glasses of wine.

Joyce made headlines this month when he said that, under the current limit of 400mcg/l, someone could quaff three-quarters of a bottle of wine in 90 minutes and still be passed by police as being fit to drive. Joyce says that when he heard this example, he too was surprised. "It surprises a lot of people, because historically two plus one' is the way we were told it."

This perception has stymied efforts to lower the limit because, Joyce says, arguments against a tightening of the rules have mistakenly been made along the lines of "You wowsers, you'd stop us from even doing that".

Joyce is doing his best not to throw his own opinion into the mix, and says it will be the end of the year before a recommendation is made on whether the drink-drive limit should be lowered.

Even if Cabinet gives the go-ahead to tighten the rules, Joyce says the wheels of legislature will take some time to turn. "I would have thought, realistically, the earliest you can achieve these changes would be October next year."

Until then, back at the racetrack: Ashton is drinking sauvignon blanc while the others opt for beer; the comedians are finishing their sixth standard drink. They're now close to making the snap judgments New Zealander drivers make regularly. "I actually feel a bit drunk, I'll be honest with you. I'd be at that point where I'm making that decision whether to drive or not," says Gilmour.

Ashton has been dry for six weeks as part of a WeightWatchers diet and is the most visibly affected by the drink. She says that if she now had to make a decision whether to drive on public roads, she'd most likely make the wrong one. "I probably would [drive], but thinking that I might be dodgy."

In the second round of breath-testing, after six standard drinks, half the sample pass legal muster. Smith tests at 350, Gilmour at 320, and Penny and Cori are now over the limit, at, respectively, 430 and 440.

Foster, who administers many tests like these, is shocked and shakes his head. The quartet are obviously all under the influence and getting increasingly rowdy - yet they're all pretty much at the legal limit.

Joyce acknowledges that his remark about being legal after three-quarters of a bottle of wine, and the results from the experiment at Pukekohe Park, may lead to people drinking more before driving: "Hopefully that won't be the case," he concedes. "Because this is a serious discussion we need to have."

* * *

How serious? According to the BMW driving instructors, dead serious. Eady and Collins mark three of the four comedians as "unsafe" after six standard drinks. Smith, who tested under the legal breath-alcohol limit, is described as "really over-confident on the braking, and too fast on the corners".

The only thing keeping the comedians from flunking the test is familiarity, says Eady. "What's happening now is repetition. They've done the same course three times now, but if we did something totally different - like running the course backwards - they'd be hammered, and dangerous."

The distance taken for the test subjects to conduct an emergency brake has crept upwards to more than 15m, and road cones are flying off the course with increasing regularity. The decline in driving ability is made worse by an alcohol-fuelled burst of confidence. Despite their test scores going down, all four comedians believe their driving has improved.

"I did better, but they probably marked me worse," says Gilmour after his third test.

His driving skills are highly rated by the instructors, but even he is showing a dramatic deterioration in his driving - and he's still under the legal limit. The car is an automatic, but Gilmour has now taken to braking with his left foot. "You really notice the difference, he's much more confident and aggressive," says Collins. Over-confident? "Certainly."

For the final run, the standard drink count is pushed to 10 and discussion turns to lewdness as the comedians recount orgy stories with much slurring and shouting. All four are now obviously drunk, and Foster is again almost in disbelief at the results from his breathalyser. Smith tests at 540mcg/l: "You've had 10 standard drinks, and you're only 150mcg/l over the limit. It's bad," says Foster.

In her final round, Smith's attempt to park the car flattens a parking cone as the car ends a full metre ahead of where it was supposed to stop. Ashton forgets to put the car into reverse, and also begins steering with only one hand. Gonzalez-Macuer demolishes an entire row of cones when entering a simulated tunnel.

And Gilmour's braking distance has doubled from his sober test. As Collins says to him afterwards: "On the final run you blew out to a 16m stop. If that had been a child standing in the middle of the road, they'd have been a goner."

After the tests, there's one final lap. Gilmour has a customised stretch limo and the comedians pile aboard to get a luxury ride around the course that has troubled them so. There are nooks and crannies in the car for bottles and glasses, and even a PA system. Eady drives.

The four are all drunk and their drunken exuberance fuels road-rage. Smith gets hold of the PA microphone to communicate with some cyclists who have started using the track: "Eco-friendly this, you f***ing fluoro-wearing, lycra-clad cyclist!"

The cyclist isn't laughing.