Adventure Magazine

Chris enjoying the local landscapes before reaching Hurunui Hut and the stream
"Triggering the PLB was a story in itself. Try as they
might, no one could get the cover off the panic button."
A warm sun was sparkling on the waters of the stream
as the group approached. Chris was indulging himself
in the thought of a hot brew and a crisp gingernut ahead
as he stepped into the ankle-deep, crystal-clear waters
of the stream. A split second later he simultaneously felt
and heard the crack as his tibia snapped, followed by a
“pirouette with all the grace and finesse of an intoxicated
hippopotamus”, and collapsed into the shallow water.
Within minutes the group had responded, relieved Chris
of most of the gear in his pack, then lifted him up and
carried him to the bank of the stream. Unbelievably, Chris
insisted the group “wait a while and see if it settles down”
before making any decisions about setting off the Personal
Locater Beacon (PLB). After yet more discussion the
group agreed to get to the hut and reassess. With help
from the others, Chris limped “the longest few hundred
metres of the entire trip” and eventually reached Hurunui
No.3 Hut.
Strangely, once inside the hut, pressing the button on
the PLB became a confronting and intimidating obstacle.
Chris’s stoicism didn’t help - he felt they should wait until
morning. Admittedly, Chris had not fallen 1,000 metres
from the top of La Perouse in a blizzard, but nevertheless
he was never going to be walking anywhere. In hindsight
he must have gone into some sort of shock and was in
denial of everything he had experienced in the stream.
Unaware that Chris had two broken bones, the group were
in a bit of a quandary. Help was a long two-days walk
away. A helicopter rescue was the only viable option. Air
rescue was limited to daylight hours, yet the patient was
suggesting they wait. The implications of waiting until the
next day was not worth thinking about, particularly if his
condition deteriorated during the night.
Clearly someone needed to step up and make a call.
Fortunately for all, someone who knew Chris very well,
his wife Annette, took control. Annette’s patience reached
breaking point and after a “few firm words” Chris agreed
that evacuation was necessary. In hindsight it seems
ridiculous that there had been any discussion about this
at all, considering they were half-way into the 80-kilometre
trip, and there was no way Chris was going to be able to
walk out. The situation highlights how scary it is to press
that panic button on the PLB and reach out for help.
Confucius might have said – if casualty is an old-schooltough-guy,
man must seek wisdom of wife if rational choices
are to be made.
Triggering the PLB was a story in itself. Try as they might, no
one could get the cover off the panic button. Eventually they
resorted to brute force and the rescue operation was put in
motion.
After a series of signals and messages involving satellites
and terminals with impressive acronyms like COSPAR,
SARSAT, LUTS and MCC, the Rescue Coordination Centre
in NZ, and Police Coordination Centre were alerted. The
rescue was then allocated to the team at Amuri Helicopters
in Hanmer Springs and the extraction process began.
Darron, a highly experienced helicopter pilot, and volunteer
rescue paramedics Jarred Alloway and Joe Billingsly,
responded to the call and assembled at Amuri Helicopters
base on the outskirts of Hanmer Springs. These three
individuals could already boast remarkable resumes in
search-and-rescue. They had also accumulated invaluable
knowledge of the local terrain after decades spent in the
bush as explorers, musterers, and hunters.
Within an hour of pressing the alert on the PLB, the group
were enjoying the very welcome sight of Amuri Helicopter’s
Heli Lynx AS350 circling the hut, evaluating possible
landing spots. This would be one of the less complicated
rescues thanks to good weather, the group setting off the
beacon close to a hut, and the expertise of the crew.
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