(Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland)
I don't know where or when the end of this story will be, but I can tell you how it began.
I grew up in a Christian family in Lower Hutt, New Zealand, with my mum, dad, and two younger brothers. Like most kids I went through phases of wanting to be different things when I grew up. But when I was 11 years old (pictured below) God planted the desire in my heart to be a pilot.
Me, age 11-ish
Now when you hear the word 'pilot', most people think of airline pilots. That wasn't the type of pilot I wanted to be. I had dreams - literally - of being at the controls of a small plane, flying around. This was in spite of having never been in a small plane, not having any relatives who were pilots, all the usual things that trigger such a thought in a child's mind.
I told my mum about this. She said, 'Maybe you could fly for MAF one day.'
'What's that?'
'Mission Aviation Fellowship, they fly missionaries around, that sort of thing.'
Sounds pretty boring, I thought, and left it at that.
In my early teens I found out about the Air Training Corps (ATC). Established during the second world war for boys who were too young to enlist, it taught them military discipline and basic airmanship in preparation for joining the Air Force when they were old enough. These days it's more like Scouts with an Air Force flavour. I had some great times during my 5 years at ATC, but the highlight would have to be getting selected for the National Power Flying course, held annually at RNZAF Base Woodbourne in Blenheim. About 30 cadets from all over the country were treated to a 10 day intensive flying programme, where one of the aims is for everyone to fly their first solo - a major milestone for any pilot. I flew mine at the age of 17, on 20 April 1998. The dream was alive.
Me with instructor John after flying my first solo
Next: The opportunities
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