Q You just returned home after working as a helicopter pilot for a tourism operation in the Bungle Bungle Range in Purnululu National Park, Australia. But generally you’ve spent a few years across the Ditch. Everyone is saying that Oamaru has changed a lot in recent years. Do you see that?
For the last four years I’ve sort of been going backwards and forwards and even in these last four years, Oamaru has changed so much.
The coffee culture, the brewery, popping up.
That’s the thing that’s really interesting, too, is how people are using these spaces, the utilisation of these old spaces, reinventing them to see what they can offer up.
It’s really quite different from when I was in high school.
We used to think Oamaru was kind of a hole and there was nothing to do here.
But I think the thing is we were expecting to be offered things rather than actually going and looking for things.
Oamaru has definitely changed ... there’s lots of young people coming back to Oamaru.
Q At the University of Otago you got a bachelor of physical education, and a bachelor of arts majoring in theatre studies, with a minor in performing arts which was a focus on dance — with a focus on ‘‘masculinity in dance’’. What did you learn about masculinity in dance?
New Zealand’s view of masculinity is — it’s rugby.
That’s what masculinity is, but the thing is, what you’ve got to look at, particularly with gender studies when you’re talking about masculinity or femininity, it’s a continuum, there’s no defined line.
Particularly in New Zealand, it’s not considered very masculine to dance.
Whereas if you went to Europe, if you couldn’t dance as a male, something is not right.
And I think the fact that New Zealand is so isolated from every other place in the world ... if you say to someone 'I dance', they go 'hold on'.
But it’s changing, it is starting to change.
Particularly now with swing, and salsa and stuff like that coming to New Zealand, it’s becoming a little bit more acceptable.
Q How did you get into flying helicopters?
I worked on a farm for three years and it was with all the helicopters doing the ag work and flying over the farm, and I always wanted to be a pilot.
I’d wanted to be a pilot since I was 5, but never really pursued it.
I just thought I’ll just give it a go.
So I went and did a trial flight and got hooked.
It was probably the stupidest thing I have ever done, but it was so much fun.
I did my trial flight in Wanaka and then I did my training in Christchurch.
Q So flying a helicopter for a tourism operation — is that the best job ever?
I’d put it up there.
It’s one of those things, to actually do it as a job — I don’t know if I’d really call it a job, when you’re actually flying it’s not really a job, it’s fun.
Someone’s paying you to have fun.
You’re absolutely knackered by the end of the day.
I think my biggest day over in Australia was seven and a-half hours.
And you get to the end of the day and you can’t concentrate.
Because, the whole time, you’re not physically exerting yourself, but you’re mentally exerting yourself, because you’ve got to take into the fact that you’ve got three other people’s lives in your hands.
Q What’s the scariest moment you’ve had in a helicopter?
I think it’s just during training the first time you do an autorotation it’s probably the weirdest, strangest concept.
You roll the throttle off, so you, like, roll the engine off and you fall.
You fall gracefully.
Autorotation, it’s an actual process, you’ve got to learn how to do it. It’s a simulated engine failure.
You’re still in control, but you’re not flying anymore.
Well, you are, but you’re not.
It’s just a really weird sensation.
And I think the very first time you actually learn how to hover too. It’s cool.
