Never Too Bloody Old To Do It

Nigel
Nigel is the founder, editor-in-chief, and lead writer at Pavlova Post, a New Zealand satire publication covering national news, local chaos, weather drama, politics, transport mishaps, and everyday Kiwi life – usually with a generous layer of exaggeration.

A Canterbury man has become the oldest waterskier in New Zealand and, inconveniently for the rest of us, the world, after proving at 94 that ‘I’m getting on a bit’ is no longer a valid reason to avoid movement, fresh air, or helping with the firewood.

Bryan Murray has been recognised by Guinness World Records as the world’s oldest male waterskier after completing a ski at Lake Kereta, north of Auckland, at 94 years and 318 days old.

The rest of the country has responded with admiration, respect, and the quiet realisation that several of us have been using ‘my knee’s a bit funny’ to avoid putting the wheelie bin out.

Murray, who has reportedly been waterskiing since the 1950s, has now created a national problem for anyone under the age of 70 who has recently described a short walk to the letterbox as ‘probably a tomorrow job’.

Officials say the achievement is inspiring. New Zealanders say that is lovely, but could he please stop making everyone’s weekend excuses look like they were assembled from damp cardboard and low motivation.

The excuse economy has suffered a major blow

For decades, Kiwis have relied on a carefully maintained excuse system.

Too cold. Too hot. Bit windy. Knee’s playing up. Back’s crook. Might rain. Already took the bins out last week. Need to ease into it. Probably best not to overdo things. Doctor never technically said waterskiing, but he did say ‘listen to your body’, and the body is currently requesting a couch.

That system has now been placed under review after Murray, approaching 95, apparently looked at a lake, a tow rope, and the basic concept of gravity, and decided yeah nah, still got it.

This has caused immediate pressure on the country’s younger generations, many of whom had been hoping to spend Sunday performing light household avoidance in activewear.

The Ministry of Not Today confirmed it was “monitoring the situation closely” and would be updating national excuse guidelines before winter.

“Obviously this is an outlier,” said a fictional spokesperson, speaking from a heated office chair with excellent lumbar support. “We still believe most New Zealanders should be able to avoid basic activity by pointing vaguely at a joint and saying it’s been weird since Easter.”

The spokesperson said Murray’s performance was “not helpful” and had created unrealistic expectations for people who currently need three sounds to stand up from the couch.

Canterbury has accidentally raised the national standard

The detail that Murray is from Canterbury has only made things worse.

Canterbury already has a long history of producing people who treat bad weather as a scheduling note rather than a warning. Add waterskiing at 94 to the regional file and it becomes increasingly difficult for the rest of the country to justify cancelling plans because the sky looks “a bit busy”.

In many households, Murray’s record is expected to become weaponised immediately.

Parents will use it on teenagers.

Partners will use it during lawn-mowing negotiations.

Someone’s uncle will mention it while standing beside a trailer, making prolonged eye contact with the only person who still has both knees technically under warranty.

‘Bryan Murray is 94 and waterskiing,’ will now become the sort of sentence that appears just before someone is asked to move a couch, split kindling, clean the gutters, shift a fridge, or finally return the borrowed chainsaw.

This is unfair, obviously.

But so is being made to compete against a man who appears to have looked at ageing and treated it like a minor admin delay.

The lake has declined to comment

Lake Kereta, where the record was verified, has not issued a statement, although witnesses say it probably knew something historic had happened because everyone nearby suddenly stood around making the face New Zealanders make when someone has done something genuinely impressive and we have to pretend not to be emotional about it.

The tow rope is understood to be recovering well.

Sports scientists say waterskiing at any age requires balance, strength, timing, confidence, and a willingness to trust both the boat and your own skeleton in conditions that would make most people quietly return to shore and pretend they were only watching.

At 94, it also requires a level of commitment that makes ‘I might go for a walk if it clears’ sound like a cry for help.

Murray reportedly still gets out on the water regularly and enjoys the sport because, in a deeply suspicious development, he appears to simply love doing the thing.

This has unsettled modern New Zealand, where hobbies are often required to have a wearable device, a subscription model, three motivational podcasts, and a measurable wellness outcome before anyone admits they enjoy them.

Murray has instead followed the older and frankly dangerous model of finding something fun and continuing to do it for more than 70 years.

Experts warn this could catch on.

Never too bloody old, apparently

The record is, by any reasonable measure, brilliant.

It is also a direct personal attack on every adult who has ever groaned while bending down to pick up a dropped sock.

There is something deeply Kiwi about the whole thing: a bloke who started waterskiing decades ago, kept doing it because he enjoyed it, and has now accidentally become an international benchmark for refusing to sit down just because the calendar keeps getting ideas above its station.

Nobody is saying everyone should take up waterskiing at 94.

Most of us should probably start with stretching, hydration, and standing up without making the noise of a condemned deck chair.

But Murray has at least reminded the country that getting older does not automatically mean handing your ambitions to the recliner and letting it manage your schedule.

You are never too bloody old to do it, apparently.

As long as someone still agrees to tow you.