What has been Midweek's most widely-read story so far? A likely contender is a 1994 front-page piece about a Whanganui man who was building a water-powered engine. The story and its strange sequel caused a stir internationally for a week (these days we'd probably say it went viral) until it was replaced by the next sensation. Former Midweek editor David Rogerson tells the story.
It was like something from The X-Files.
A young man pursued and severely beaten by persons unknown, anonymous phone callers delivering dire warnings and links to a famous conspiracy theory.
It happened in Wanganui, and Midweek made its mark in the world with the story. Our phone ran hot for a week or more with calls from overseas media.
Veteran journalist and Midweek staffer Barrie Mitchell-Anyon loved quirky stories and had a nose for them. In late June, 1994 it led him to 18-year-old Dylan Whitford, who told Barrie he was building an engine that ran on water.
"It's so simple I don't know why others haven't thought of it," he said.
Barrie's story appeared on Midweek's front page on June 22. Shortly after, he received an anonymous phone call from a man warning that Dylan should be careful about his movements. A Nelson man had died in a mysterious farm accident after going public with a water engine. Many people knew the theory of water engines but it was dangerous knowledge.
Three days after the Midweek story, Dylan was attacked late at night in St Hill St. Two Maori Wardens found him lying in the street near his car and he was taken to hospital with serious head injuries.
Barrie wrote about the attack in Midweek on June 29, pointing out that it could have been unconnected with Dylan's engine or the Midweek story - except that earlier in the same day Dylan had been followed to and from work.
And the mysterious caller had been in touch again to find out if Dylan was all right. The caller hadn't heard about the attack. Barrie advised him to tell the police what he knew. The police, meanwhile, appealed for information about the attack and wanted to speak to anyone who had seen Dylan's car pursued at speed by another vehicle down Somme Pde the previous Saturday.
National news media homed in on the Dylan story. Jon Eisen, an Auckland journalist researching a book on suppressed inventions (Suppressed Inventions and Other Discoveries, edited by Jonathan Eisen, 1994, Auckland Institute of Technology Press), said if the attack was linked to Dylan's engine, the youth was still in danger. At least five patents had been issued for water-fuelled engines, but there had been no commercial production.
"It has been done before, and untoward things happen to people who do it," Mr Eisen said.
On July 6, Midweek reported that Dylan, out of hospital and walking with a stick, was leaving town to lie low. Media interest was considerable. National and international newspapers and electronic media that had never heard of us flooded Midweek with calls seeking details about Dylan, his engine, his whereabouts and the assault. We knew little more than they had already heard. Nevertheless, news stories were published in the US and Britain, and probably elsewhere too.
But by that time we were looking into the conspiracy theory that the oil industry was actively suppressing water engines by any means possible. Or that shadowy powers-that-be were suppressing them because they represented free energy for the masses. Take your pick.
Water engines were said to crack water to produce hydrogen, which then powered a more-or-less normal internal combustion mechanism. The only exhaust product was water vapour. Japanese company Mazda had just announced a hydrogen-powered concept model. It burned bottled hydrogen, but a company press release said engineers were working on a model that used solar power to produce hydrogen from water onboard. It still hasn't reached the market.
A source in Auckland told us the Nelson experimenter mentioned by the mystery caller was Malcolm Vincent, whose water-powered Ford Cortina had featured in a 70s TV news programme and in a Sunday newspaper article. Brian Lehrke, Wanganui-based TV news cameraman, said he'd worked on the story and was convinced the engine was genuine. Trouble was, Vincent's water engine didn't burn hydrogen. It was said to be hydraulic, to work on some kind of cavitation principle. Vincent himself had talked about "water in perpetual motion".
What did he mean? We may never know. He was killed in a hay baling accident in 1976, reportedly about the same time that the Cortina was stolen from his garage.
A retired Nelson policeman who remembered the incident told Midweek the coroner found that Vincent's accident was caused by a heart attack.
Another inventor who showed a water engine to the media was Archie Blue, whose adapted Mini created a lot of interest in Christchurch in the late 70s and was reported in the local media.
Mr Blue went overseas to talk to prospective investors. On his return he refused to talk about the engine and apparently dropped the whole thing. When he died in the early 90s, there was much interest in the contents of his workshop and whether he had left any plans or drawings. The family said everything had gone to the tip.
Auckland inventor Alvin Crosby started a business, Crosby Energy Systems, later known as Hydrox Corporation, selling water-powered gas-cutting equipment that ranged from small torches to multi-head industrial cutters.
In 1985 he received a NZ Enterprise Award for the technology, which broke down water into hydrogen and oxygen and burned it to produce an intense, hot flame.
Local jeweller Richard Sheppard, who bought one of the torches, told us it used about as much electricity as a desk fan and required occasional top-ups of caustic soda, which it used as a catalyst. It went through about a milk bottle of water a week. Crosby's company attracted offshore interest and soon had big American investors.
He told us he'd considered adapting the technology to drive engines but was discouraged by his new partners. It was the start of many problems, sabotage of product shipments and a Justice Department investigation. He eventually walked away from the company, which subsequently moved to the Philippines, then seemed to disappear.
No doubt the truth is out there still.
