You’d be hard-pressed to lure Andrew Fagan away from the sea. Even when the Listener calls for a chat about him going back to his old job as frontman for 80s band The Mockers, he’s skippering a barge that’s helping with construction at the Kopu Bridge near Thames.
Once upon a time, he and wife Karyn Hay lived on a boat on the original Thames, after the band had done their dash in New Zealand and tried to establish themselves in the UK.
Coming home, a sailing-instructor sideline to his talkback show job with Hay eventually led Fagan to a commercial launch master licence (CLM).
That ticket was to come in handy, especially after the end of his seven years doing a talkback show with Hay. “In 2015, I had just finished at Radio Live and was thinking about what to do next when I realised the CLM was a legacy ticket, so ring-fenced for life, and I was able to sign up as a watchkeeper aboard the MV Claymore, the vessel that carried freight and passengers from Tauranga to Bounty Bay on Pitcairn Island.”
During his three years on that 3000km route, Fagan used his downtime to record his 2020 solo album in the cabin. “Working on boats and writing songs are not mutually exclusive,” he says. “Plenty of songs can be found in mundane workplaces, like the MV Claymore or the wheelhouse of the tug. It’s always been that way for me. Songs start up in my head for no rational reason at all.”
He’d already spent plenty of time on the high seas, in a much smaller boat, all by himself, and written two books about it. But in 2022, Fagan had to farewell his beloved 5.4m yacht, Swirly World.
“Sailing on the sea by yourself with no land on the horizon is compelling,” he says. “But two years ago, I bit off more than my little plywood boat could chew, and I had to abandon ship midway to Cape Horn. The rudder broke off and I had to press the ‘come and get me’ button.
“A 300m container ship was sent to the rescue but when the ship slowed, they couldn’t control it in the gale. With no rudder, I couldn’t get close and after two hours, I leapt for a rope ladder, leaving Swirly World, the boat I’d had for 37 years, to drift away and sink with all my gear in it.” That adventure will be documented in an upcoming third book.
Fagan learnt to sail as a boy on the windy waters of Wellington’s Evans Bay, and at nearby Rongotai College, formed his first band, punk group the Ambitious Vegetables, which eventually mutated into The Mockers. The band’s early punk-pop songs like Murder on Manners St and Trendy Lefties found gentler New Wave waters and started having hits with the likes of Swear It’s True, My Girl Thinks She’s Cleopatra and Forever Tuesday Morning.
Fagan’s nonchalant wit and colourful costumes helped boost The Mockers’ profile, especially among teenagers of the era who also had the Dance Exponents to scream at. But the success didn’t make them rich, and they had to keep working during times of deep turmoil. They were mid-tour in 1985 when Fagan’s father died. Fagan was only 23.
“We were doing the Culprit and the King album tour when my father died,” he says. “His funeral had to be organised around the tour, so we could keep playing: the Oxford in Levin the night before and the Cricketers Arms in Wellington the night of the funeral. We couldn’t afford not to.”
That same year, Fagan was named top male vocalist at the RIANZ Awards. A year later, drummer Steve Thorpe committed suicide. “That’s when the emotional pleasure bubble burst. We recorded one more album with a drum machine, but it wasn’t the same.”
After Thorpe’s death, Fagan joined a touring production of The Pirates of Penzance. It was the first decent money he had earned and it helped fund the shift to the UK. There were gigs for homesick Kiwis but no record deal transpired. Guitarist Brett Adams and bassist Geoff Hayden stayed on in the UK to form a band with Dianne Swann. Keyboardist Tim Wedde became an in-demand sideman in Australia.
Getting the band back together for a third time – with Chris O’Connor guesting on drums – for a reunion tour this month also means time for reflection.
“A reunion is great but somehow perverse as well. We don’t look the same but the essence of what we are doing is exactly the same as it was back in the 1980s, because playing music live will always be fun. It’s collective pleasure and seeing people singing along to some of the songs of their youth is extremely gratifying, albeit in a self-centred way.
“We are performing even more powerfully now, too – simply because we know these gigs are few and far between, more precious than we ever thought they’d become. It’s a bit like being Cinderella, getting to go to the ball and show off for a week, before disappearing back into my aquatic life.” l
The Mockers and Greg Johnson Summer Sunset Shows: Parāoa Brewing, Whangaparāoa, March 7; Waitara T&C Club, Taranaki, March 8; Meow, Wellington, March 9.
