Christchurch to Hokitika (CHC-HKK) on NZ Jetstream 32 (J32) operated by Air National

When I checked in I found my flight had been changed from a Beech 1900D to a Jetstream 32 operated by charter airline Air National. It seems that Air NZ is experiencing considerable growth in the secondary and tertiary domestic markets, judging by the rapid increase in the number of flights switching to Air National. I wonder why they don't get more small aircraft? Perhaps it is all part of their outsourcing strategy?

Anyway I digress. The boarding call in the lounge is made unusually early, due to the gate not being one of the usual prop gates downstairs from the lounge, but instead the satellite terminal - a reasonable walk past the Qantas part of the domestic terminal, and I'm sure in winter it would seem to be in Siberia.

The boarding call answers my silent question as to whether the flight would go ahead, for heavy rain is forecast today on the West Coast and some doubt as to whether it would arrive before or after our flight. There was even a small chance of being stranded in Hokitika, much like I was in Queenstown recently, with the aircraft stuck and unable to take off in bad weather. (Like Queenstown, Hokitika is fairly close to the Southern Alps albeit on the other windward side.)

As we wait in the satellite terminal I noticed I had been allocated a seat which doesn't exist on the J32 (or the Beech 1900D for that matter)! I wonder how that was even possible? Never mind, it looks like flight will only be half full so I should be able to get a good seat - at least as good as any seat on this aircraft (for the pitch is rather tight, and the first row requires 90 degree turn to look out the window). Once the baggage is all loaded and all passengers are in the satellite terminal we cross the tarmac and enter the aircraft from the steps at the rear. As I walk across I see an Australian Air Force plane land, unmistakeable due to the very different paint job compared with the NZ Air Force planes. I wonder what it is doing here, perhaps readying for potential assistance with the developing situation in Fiji should the need arise?

I grab the centre forward seat so I can get a good view through the pilot cabin (dang FT censor) - as good as any jump seat. Woohoo. The pax across from me is a nervous flyer, and not at all calm having missed her earlier flight due to boarding the wrong a/c (obviously the boarding pass check on the tarmac was deficient). I try to reassure her as best I can.

With our position at this end of the terminals and the east-west runway in use, we have a very short taxi. For the initial climb I can only see sky and cloud ahead, and turning my head I see the patchwork of the plains. However still interesting to see the "action" in the pilot cabin and so I find myself ignoring the rest of the paper. As we pass over the foothills of the Southern Alps we level out at 13,000 feet - only a little higher than Aoraki/Mount Cook a little to our south - and I have a forward view of the cloud mass with glimpses of snow-capped mountain seemingly only a short way below us.

We soon reach the divide and start our descent and the view from all sides is whiteness, with rain being driven up the windscreen and side windows. The radar shows clearly the mass of the mountains as we descend through a valley and make several turns on approach. The landing gear is lowered and still no change in the view. Eventually we reach 300 feet with the radar a mass of pink and the pilots abort our landing with a steep climbing turn.

Several minutes later they announce we are indeed returning to Christchurch as the weather is too severe to land at Hokitika and no prospect of improvement in the near future.

On the flight back we climb to 16,000 and hold briefly before descending the other side. Ironically the higher altitude is bumpier, although nothing severe. During our flight the cloud has retreated closer to the divide meaning clear skies over the foothills and plains. The vast plains stretching out to the sea in the distance and for a long way to the right and left. The volcanic craters of Banks Peninsula sprawled out like a lazy adolescent behind the city shining in the bright sun. For a while we track directly towards the runway, but turn and circle to land towards the west.

Shortly before landing the captain announces passengers will have other arrangements made tonight (euphamism for being put on the evening bus) and should go to a certain counter on landing.

The nervous flyer beside me is just glad to have touched down, albeit feeling rather jinxed.

Thus ends one of the longest prop flights I can recall (at about 90 minutes) and my first return to origin flight in a long time.