Deborah Coddington: Our Supermayor could be a man of vine breeding

Riddiford doesn't suffer fools gladly, and calls a spade a bloody shovel. Photo / NZ Herald

Pull yourself together Auckland. You've got six months to find someone to call "Supermayor" to lead your "Supercity" and you're still obsessing over a tosser from Campbells Bay who reportedly piddled in a public place.

This is New Zealand's most populous city and, thus far, all we have to choose from are (yawn) yesterday's men - John Banks, Len Brown, maybe Andrew Williams, and maybe John Tamihere.

Are we so obsessed with saving the planet that we've resorted to recycling our politicians as well?

People who live in Auckland are so parochial they can't bear to think of looking south for a candidate, yet two weeks ago the perfect specimen was honoured at a gala dinner, right under their noses, and they let him slip away.

It was the Auckland Agricultural, Pastoral & Industrial Show Board's annual knees-up and Martinborough's greatest son, Richard Daniel Riddiford, MNZM, managing director of Palliser Estate, was in the city being inducted into the New Zealand Wine Hall of Fame.

The honour puts Riddiford up there with notables like Assid Corban, Mate Brajkovich, Bryan Mogridge and Peter Hubscher, to name a few.

The award is given only to those "exceptional few who have made a lasting, nationwide impact". But it's not just because of Riddiford's contribution to wine that he'd serve Auckland well.

Last week a business publication outlined how rural towns are the last to recover from the recession. Cities are bouncing back but income from agriculture is being used to reduce debt rather than boost retail and employment.

But Martinborough is not doing so badly. Why? In the early 1980s, grapes were being planted and a decade later Riddiford had Palliser exporting all over the world. But there's nothing intrinsically special about vineyards. Grapes alone didn't save this rural town from death by Rogernomics.

Arguably it was this man's vision which ensured that, 20 years on, Martinborough, with its homestays, restaurants and cafes, would attract much-needed cash from tourists, while traditional hinterland towns, relying solely on beef, lamb and wool, still weather the chill of recession.

In 1992, Riddiford became the chairman of Toast Martinborough, a food and wine festival held every November. All 10,000 tickets are sold within minutes and money pours into the town.

Three years later, he picked up and ran with the inaugural triennial pinot noir conference, arguably responsible for New Zealand becoming internationally renowned for that wine.

So now the village economics depend on entertainment, and Riddiford, in his forthright manner, keeps operators up to the mark, right down to changing lightbulbs and cleanliness in cafes.

But I'm an Auckland ratepayer and none of the above, per se, would make me vote for Riddiford. So what would?

He's grumpy. He doesn't suffer fools gladly, and calls a spade a bloody shovel. You'd never find him air-kissing at cocktail parties or visiting sister cities on ratepayers' money. He's dead sexy, and loyal with a capital L. He's also one of the funniest people I know.

Community comes first. If people ask for and deserve help, Riddiford says yes. Last weekend, for instance, the Anglican church raised funds with a home and garden tour, selling 650 tickets.

Riddiford guards his privacy, but when I asked if we could use his lovely home, with a wonderful art collection, as one of the venues, he agreed immediately.

And he has a good heart. Like me, he misses his beloved labrador, "Bear", interred with love and humour in an inscribed memorial on his lawn.

So what does it matter that he comes from a small town? Auckland's the City of Sails, and anyone who knows about sailing knows if you can manage a tiny P-Class you can skipper a superyacht, provided you have the crew.

Yes, he'd be perfect, but there is one snag - you can't have him.

Even if Riddiford were willing, the Martinborough vigilantes would never let him leave. Sorry Auckland, you'll have to recycle your empty vessels after all.