Gavel Rush
Sydney Morning Herald
Wednesday March 26, 2003
The point
The stakes are high and so are the emotions when real estate is up for grabs.
'It's Thursday night at the Killara Inn, a respectable north shore hotel. Upstairs in the conference room, a dramatic scene is reaching its climax. It's part of a show many Sydneysiders have seen in one form or another.
``$1.325 million, for the third and final call, are we done, finished, all done ..."
Gavel raised, Nicholas Lyell, the NSW chief auctioneer for First National Real Estate, stares at the woman in the second row who has already retired from bidding twice. Her arms are firmly crossed. The room holds its breath, the hammer hovers ... her hand springs up. She's back in and eventually nails it with a bid of $1.33 million.
After auctioning eight properties in two hours, Lyell unwinds over a beer. ``Sorry, I'm just coming down from the high," he says. ``I come home and my wife says to me, `Slow down, I can't understand you.' You get your heart racing the adrenaline is just fierce."
Lyell, 32, got addicted at an early age. Inspired by a work experience stint in LJ Hooker's auction department when he was in year 10, he applied for an auctioneering traineeship after leaving school. For a year the apprentice watched Sydney's top auctioneers and did mock auctions in front of experienced gavel bangers.
Lyell made his professional debut aged 19. In the 13 years since, he estimates he has called more than 10,000 auctions, averaging 900 to 1000 a year, and the most expensive property he's sold was a $4 million Killara home.
Lyell likens himself to a stand-up comedian in front of a highly strung audience. He has to read the room, coax out that elusive first bid (``Where do we go, buyers?") and interpret body language when a bidder folds the arms and avoids eye contact, they're usually done. Energy levels must be kept high. ``If you're not performing positively ... you can destroy a night."
Lyell has his bidding routine but also has to keep figures in his head, ad lib and deal with hecklers. At one on-site auction in Newtown at 4pm, he was doused with water by a swearing local resident, irate at being woken by the auction patter. After only a short break while proceedings moved inside, Lyell picked up where he left off. The show must go on, soggy suit and all.
And finally, choosing the right moment for the punchline bringing the hammer down for the third time is a matter of good timing and instinct.
There are downsides to the game. Many punters don't enjoy auctions because of the nerves involved. ``It's an emotional rollercoaster," Lyell says. When other factors arise, the atmosphere can become explosive. Lyell has had bomb scares, death threats and presided over bidding with police or security guards present. ``When banks take possession of properties, marital splits, partnership splits, there's all different games that go on between solicitors," he says. ``It's very tense."
Yet Lyell has no doubt he's in for the long haul, even though for him it's a 24/7 occupation, with auctions on weekends and most weeknights. Spare time is spent on admin and visiting properties to inspect and take photos.
Is that what the job requires?
``It probably doesn't, but that's the level that I put in. And it's not the financial reward, it's just the reward of loving the job."
Nuts and bolts
Age 32
Job title Professional real estate auctioneer.
Qualifications Real estate licence.
Salary $80,000 plus.
Job highs ``Sale under the hammer. 100 per cent clearance."
Job lows ``Seven days and most nights."
Life tip ``Real estate is like age it always increases!'
© 2003 Sydney Morning Herald