No sooner had the helicopter attained several hundred feet of elevation -- at the point where cars on SH1 seemed as small as Lego toys on the thin strip of tarmac cutting through the rolling fields of Dairy Flat -- than my palms began sweating.
I hardly dared to move.There was nothing between me and the ground far below except my safety harness -- because the door had been taken off.
My friend, helicopter pilot Brent Hemple, had asked if I'd like to go up in his machine to see how Auckland and environs looked to the birds. I had thought long and hard. A helicopter ... couldn't it just drop like a stone into the Waitemata?
The helicopter was a four-seater with a big bubble windscreen. Any photographs taken through it would be distorted by its curve. There was only one solution: to take my door off.
We continued our ascent from North Shore Airfield. Brent banked the helicopter to turn south and I found myself leaning into a ghastly void ...
"Are you all right?" asked our pilot. "Shall we go back and put the doors on?"
It was time to man up. "No thanks, Brent, I'll be fine in a minute."
I found that once I focused my camera on the toy houses and patchwork fields, my fears vanished. The biggest worry was that I would drop the camera through the hole where my door used to be.
I became engrossed by the way the late afternoon shadows accentuated the topography of our incredible landscape, absorbed by the revelation of this new perspective of the familiar North Shore countryside and amazed at the number of extravagant lifestyle blocks we flew over in Dairy Flat and Coatesville. I tried to spot Kim Dotcom's mansion.
Photo / Mark Meredith
Photo / Mark Meredith
Photo / Mark Meredith
Photo / Mark Meredith
Heading out over the Waitemata and seeing it from the air, it seemed hard to imagine life before the Harbour Bridge, but even stranger to imagine it being replaced by a tunnel.
We buzzed about the Sky Tower -- it felt quite odd looking down on it -- and had a fresh look at Wynyard Quarter and the Viaduct. One thing was plain: how much of Auckland's waterfront is denied to its citizens by the port. From above, the waterfront looks like a phalanx of concrete landing strips covered in cars and containers.
The most revelatory aspect of touring Auckland by air is in the topography shaped by the volcanic field that seethes far beneath us. Every direction I looked I found a volcano. There are over 50 volcanoes dotted around Auckland and you can see most of them by helicopter.
Cruising out to Rangitoto, we circled over the biggest surprise of the day, Motukorea, or Browns Island. This is a small, rather insignificant island when viewed from the water, but from above it is magnificent; a perfect volcano on a small, pristine land mass.
We increased altitude to fly over Rangitoto's crater. Smothered in pohutukawa forest, it's as dominant and impressive a feature of Auckland's landscape from above as it is at ground level.
The sun was getting lower, the light warm and magical as we swept over Motutapu Island towards Rakino. Looking at the tiny houses dotted over the rugged terrain, I felt a twinge of envy as we hovered above, fascinated by the alternative lifestyle of others.
Our route back to the airfield took us along the North Shore coastline with views of normally hidden cliff-top mansions and swimming pools. The wonderful vista back over the coastline to Auckland city at sunset brought a lump to my throat. I think I appreciated my home town more that day then ever before. And I haven't really been bothered by high places since.
In fact, owning my own helicopter is now on my long and unlikely bucket list. You know ... swoop over to Waiheke Island for a flat white when the mood takes me; or land on a deserted beach in the Far North for an impromptu picnic. That's a lifestyle I could get used to.
Coptahire operates tours of Auckland and environs in conjunction with Silverfern Helicopters as operator. Charter rates vary between helicopter types. A 40-minute trip like mine for three passengers over Auckland City, Rangitoto and the Gulf is $250 + GST a person.
