A cue to jump the queue

Over the last few years, on a fairly regular basis, I have commuted via ferry from downtown Auckland to Waiheke Island.

Obviously I have also commuted back, otherwise I would have been there only once in the last few years and I would still be there. But what I want to talk about here is the ragged queue that forms at the Auckland end of the journey.

This is a distinctly different queue from that which forms at the Waiheke end of the journey, which is much more orderly - possibly because things are much more chilled out and laid-back on Waiheke.

For those unfamiliar with the Auckland/Waiheke commute, the passenger ferry docks at pier 2C or 2D or 2B or 2-something down at the ferry building, depending on wherever Fullers, the ferry company, feels like parking the bloody thing at any particular time of day.

In anticipation of this event, the queue to climb on board starts to form up to some 20 minutes before the ferry arrives.

Now the Auckland-to-Waiheke ferry can get quite crowded. Just after work on the Friday preceding a holiday weekend is as busy as it gets - which is pretty darn busy. Thus the queue can snake back a good hundred or so metres and then some, by the time they signal the "all aboard" and everyone clambers onto the ferry.

Thus, just before embarkation time it can look, to the naked eye, like there are way too many people to fit on the ferry. This, in turn, leads to some of the best displays of queue-jumping I have ever seen. The most common of these is what might be called "the pincer movement", where the cunning queue-jumper takes advantage of the geography of the wharf, plus the rather ill-defined nature of the head of the queue, plus the sudden influx of passengers from the incoming ferry, to approach from the side at the last minute and insinuate him or herself near the front of the queue as it starts to press forward in anticipation of boarding.

The pincer movement differs subtly from "the flanking manoeuvre". This is where you stand apart from the queue, pretending you're not actually waiting for the Waiheke ferry; that you're actually there to catch another ferry that doesn't actually exist.

Then, when the Waiheke ferry docks, suddenly you change your mind about the mythical ferry and - surprise surprise - decide to get on an actual ferry instead - by joining at the front of the queue. This "flanking manoeuvre", I have noted, is often performed by those taking bicycles on board the ferry.

Somehow the fact you are pushing a wheeled machine gives you greater rights when it comes to the queue for the Waiheke ferry. They're eco-steeds that can slay annoying lines of people, in the same way that driving an expensive German automobile apparently gives you the right to double-park anywhere you want.

Strollers, too, are very good for instigating the "flanking manoeuvre" because let's face it, who is going to tell someone pushing a stroller to get the hell to the back of the queue?

Even if there isn't actually a baby in said stroller, the presence of the stroller creates enough doubt in the minds of those legitimately in the queue that by the time they realise there's actually a carton of Lion Red in the stroller, the queue-jumper is already on the boat.

A very audacious, in-your-face, form of queue-jumping is often undertaken by the frequent flyers of the Auckland/Waiheke run. You know they're the frequent flyers because they ostentatiously clutch their multi-trip passes in their hands as they charge past the queue, as if saying "out of my way, tourists and weekenders, for I am a true Waihekian and I have more rights than you to be on this ferry!" But possibly the boldest of all the queue-jumping manoeuvres is the "there's a queue? What queue?" manoeuvre, wherein the jumpers simply pretend the line of several hundred people doesn't exist.

This, I have noted, is often undertaken by packs of school-aged youth, who are too busy Tweeting each other to pay attention to anything else, yet somehow manage to time their run with split-second precision, arriving at the head of the queue just as they start letting the punters on the boat. And the thing is, all the time these behaviours are being undertaken, you can see the people who are legitimately queuing bristling with righteous indignation. Yet no one ever says anything.

Everyone - me included - just bristles and feels morally superior. God, I love New Zealand. And then, of course, everyone manages to get on the boat or, on the rare occasions they don't, there's another ferry along in an hour.

But it's still great fun to watch.