I Survived a Car Accident & Break In in New Zealand

As the title goes, it was a terrifying experience. I learnt from my year-long travel in New Zealand that traffic accidents caused by foreigners in New Zealand are common. The local news report. Road safety posters plastered around popular tourist spots in the South Island indicated the seriousness. Maybe it is about driving on the left, the unpredictable weather, the road condition or the fatigue from long-distance travelling.

In my case, it was not us – the foreigners – at fault. But the negligence of another local driver!

The Accident

My partner and I were on our way back to our home base in Motueka after a month-long road trip around the South Island. We were travelling from Christchurch to Motueka via Highway 1 towards Kaikoura and were planning to spend a night in Blenheim at our friend’s place.

It was the last week of July 2020. 

The road north was pretty smooth until we came close to Kaikoura.

Heavy construction was underway, and we were going at a snail’s pace, frequently stopping for the opposing traffic to advance on the narrow one-lane road or for the big construction vehicles to move. Traffic speed had lowered from the usual 80 – 100 km/h on highways to 30 – 50 km/h.

The traffic warden had given us the green light to proceed at one of the stops, and my partner began to inch our car up the slope.

We had barely picked up speed when a black shadow lurched towards us – the sight pretty much scarred me for months.

A black car, supposedly cruising down the opposite lane, had swerved into our lane. I saw the process in slow-mo from the adrenaline – the car inching close to the divider, half the car in our lane, and the sedan travelling directly towards us. In retrospect, the incident happened too fast for anyone to blare the horn.

It was unreal! Exactly how an accident scene in drama would pan out. Instead of staying mute or yelling my lungs out, I was chanting ‘IT’S COMING’.

If I were the one behind the wheels, we could have been injured or worse, as it would be a head-on collision. Or I might have overreacted and sent the car tumbling down the hill.

But my partner had seasoned reflexes and managed to swerve a little left – just enough to dodge most of the impact.

The black car smashed his door and left a nasty long slash mark down the right side of our car. The impact did not ease its momentum, and it flew down the slope and collided with another sedan.

The beast gorged the right bumper of the second car and the impact exploded its tyre. Meanwhile, the black car had its wheel spun out, and its bumper smashed. Both cars came out twisted like wrecks, much worse than our car.

We took a moment to calibrate ourselves before venturing out to take stock of the aftermath.

My partner could not open his door as it was slammed shut from outside. He had to shuffle out from the passenger’s seat.

We only realised that a part of our car was missing after seeing the long metal piece pinned underneath the wheel of the black sedan.

Our car was fine apart from the dented door and long hideous scratch marks. The wheels were intact, and they could still move.

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The Aftermath

As the accident happened near a construction site, assistance came quickly. The workers were the first to arrive, followed by a St John’s ambulance, a fire engine, and two police cars.

Miraculously, as serious as the accident was, no one was hurt.

We later heard from the workers that this was the 4th accident that week! Someone ought to have done something about it.

I dialled our car insurer for assistance while my partner took photos of the accident. We exchanged contact details with the other two parties involved before the police arrived to take our accounts.

A man behind the black sedan took his time to be present and provide a witness narrative.

Two policemen arrived at the scene. The older man took down our details and reports and checked the driver’s licences and breath specimens.

A paramedic told us to relax and watch out for signs of distress that may happen after an accident. I felt nothing except the urge to pee.

While our car was workable, the police had rated it unsafe for further travel as the driver’s car door was badly bruised and would not be able to protect the driver if something similar were to happen again. 

What a shame. We thought we could continue our journey after the accident.

I dialled back the insurer and relayed whatever the police said. There was no way we could leave Kaikoura that day. It was almost 4 pm by the time we left the highway. The police and insurer would have to arrange for the cars to be towed. We need other methods to resume our journey.

The man who came forward to help as a witness later told us that the accident was due to the driver’s fatigue. He had momentarily dozed off. At the back of his car were his wife and a 5-month-old daughter, both asleep.

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Leaving the Accident Site

The younger police officer took us to Kaikoura. He said the cars would be towed sometime after 5 pm that day, and we should only bring our essentials.

We sat in the police car with the other driver and were dropped off by the tow truck company in Kaikoura, conveniently located beside a petrol station in the middle of the town.

Imagine my relief after holding onto a bursting bladder for the last two hours!

We checked in to one of the motels along the stretch of the road and exchanged calls, text messages and email communication with the insurer. Looking at the extent of the damage to our car, the cost to fix it and our reported value, we guessed that the car is gone. 

Our insurer also partially arranged our transport back to Motueka the following day.

What worried us most that night was our car. The police had made false promises, and the tow truck company was uncontactable.

Our car!

It was left unattended in the middle of nowhere alongside its mangled counterparts. I ought to have carried my laptop along with me! We were too dazed – and my bladder too full – to have negotiated with the policeman and carried our bags. Who would have foretold it?

Efficiency and safety do not rank highly in New Zealand. We could only hope for the best.

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It Could Only Get Worse

Amidst the shock and uncertainty, we met up with a friend travelling around the South Island and was in Kaikoura. Another set of ears to lament on quelled some of our anxiety as the tow truck company had not reached the accident site yet that morning! 

Without the car, we could not pack up and leave.

The call we had been waiting for finally came through during lunch. Everything that happened next came swiftly.

While the insurer had promised to reimburse the accommodation and transport, we still have to make the arrangements ourselves.

To get back to Motueka, we need three modes of transport: (1) a shuttle from Kaikoura to Blenheim, (2) self-drive from Blenheim to Nelson, and (3) a taxi from Nelson to Motueka. 

The shuttle was difficult to arrange. No taxi service plies the roads of sleepy sea town Kaikoura. We were lucky to spot a shuttle service operating in Kaikoura from the tourist pamphlets in the motel, with the driver coincidentally free that afternoon.

The insurer organised the second leg of the journey with a rental company in Blenheim. We asked for a taxi service to cover the whole route but were rejected – the price was too high, they replied. We had to pay for the petrol to travel from Blenheim to Nelson.

Back to the phone call.

Our car reached Kaikoura and was by the petrol station.

We hurried over to the site, hoping to move our belongings into the shuttle as soon as it arrived.

I was glad to spot the familiar white Honda Odyssey despite its awful gash until the sun shone on the rear side window – the only window that did not reflect.

Of course, it would not reflect. It was a gaping hole.

Did the tow truck strike a hole while hoisting the car?

If only that were the case.

The Kaikoura shuttle had arrived by then, and we wasted no time and transferred all our possessions to the shuttle. Stuff brought to enhance the working holiday experience.

Where are his guitar and backpack?

Indeed someone had taken the perfect opportunity to break into the car last night.

Another story to add to my vibrant working holiday experience.

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Journey Home

Fortunately for us, no more drama ensued for the rest of the journey.

The first leg of the journey had me communicating with the insurer under a bad connection.

I learnt that comprehensive automobile insurance does not cover your personal belongings in the car. To have that covered, you would need to have personal insurance.

Yours truly is paranoid and needs insurance coverage to buy her peace whenever she is abroad.

We reached the rental shop in Blenheim and started the process of unloading and loading our stuff again. Friends living in Blenheim came by for support.

Post-accident, I have decided to stay away from driving. I have never enjoyed cruising in the car or dealing with the traffic, and the accident has made me dislike the process even more. The accident made me question my reaction to that black car in the nick of time, like how my companion had expertly performed.

He drove the second stretch of the journey from Blenheim to Nelson airport, where we returned the car and hired a taxi for the last leg home.

It was 7 pm when we reached our destination.

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Follow-ups

Our automobile insurer reimbursed our losses within two weeks.

I lodged a police report about the break-in and had to speak with an unsympathetic and assertive officer. A letter indicating the lack of evidence for them to do anything came in a month later. Expectations.

Meanwhile, the cost of the lost items was sent to my insurer, who paid for the losses at lightning speed. It goes to show how important travel insurance is.

Months passed since the accident, yet the vision of the incoming car still lingers in my mind’s eye whenever I am on the road.

He still drives, but I found myself becoming hyper-vigilant despite being a mere passenger.

Only time will tell if I would ever get comfortable behind the wheels again.

We have now added a piece of discarded bedsheet to our road trip as a cover over our items. 

Maybe if they can’t see it, they will not break in. 

But the occasional Facebook posts on New Zealand backpackers groups prove otherwise – lost campervans entrusted with belongings and keepsakes, a car parked on the street outside the driver’s house was broken into, so-and-so’s van found in Auckland when it was parked at Christchurch. New Zealand isn’t that safe.

I have now come to a morbid and abrupt end of my story. 

Please be insured and keep your valuables with you.

And to end it off here’s a snippet of my dad’s first response after hearing about the accident:

Me: Accident! The car’s gone but I’m okay! Bae has quick reflexes. That driver was falling asleep.

Dad: Whose fault? 🥲🥲🥲