Wanaka helicopter crash: How could he fall from the sky?

Tanned backpackers at the lake watch the world. They appear cautiously, inspiring a postcard scene: snowy peaks framing glistening blue waters.

But they just pass. Take pictures and move on to the next destination. Those who stay stay close. They live towards the 45th south parallel, midway between the South Pole and the Equator, a mid-cold and half-warm latitude. And after Thursday's tragedy, some have the impression of living halfway to hell.

No no. Not yet. Another helicopter descends.

Soon, the worst of all news passed through the city, transmitted by shaking his head and hugs. The youngest Wallis. Notch. Father of two little girls. Dead, with two great DoC rangers and eco pioneers, Scott Theobald, 59, and his DOC counterpart, Paul Hondelink, 63, the first day of the Tull Cull. What was it, less than three months after the death of Nick's brother and fellow pilot, Matt, in a helicopter crash right on the lake?

It was a disgusting earthquake. And there were so many questions. How? How could the machine fall from the sky and turn into a fireball, so soon after takeoff? An investigation is launched.

But the community has rallied again. What more can be done?

"We are very fortunate in Wanaka to support each other and we are very grateful," said Jonathan Wallis, who lost two brothers in just a few weeks.

Stoic is a word used by many people to describe the Wallis family.

The old man, Sir Tim Wallis, who founded the famous Warbirds Over Wanaka air show, has himself survived 15 air accidents. The last, in 1996, in a Spitfire of the Second World War, ended his career as a solo pilot and almost ended his life. Now 80, he's not doing well lately, whether he's in or out of the hospital, but everyone expects him to remain as a soldier .

Deputy Mayor Calum MacLeod called the Wallis matriarch, Lady Prue Wallis. Thursday was his birthday. Out of respect for her, he refused to talk to reporters the next day.

Everyone in the city felt the blow.

"We are all very attached to the three families, but especially to the Wallis family," said a trader. "I mean, how could you get away with losing two boys so close?" It breaks your heart.

Nick was known as a nice giant – 6 feet 6 inches, 120 kg, a man but also a true father. Teach his little girls to go water skiing behind the jet boat, to fly to distant cabins for weekends, using the helicopter as most people make a car.

"He was a bloody and talented driver," said a former CoA employee who flew several times with Nick Wallis.

"He could put this machine where he wanted, it was like art."

The flag outside the CdC reception center in town was suspended at half-mast, slamming to the northwest.

Staff and supporters went to the wooden building with cookies to share the sorrow around a cup of tea and tell stories.

Theobald and Hondelink were both world leaders in selected conservation areas.

A pioneer of predatory dogs, it was said that wherever Theobald went, the number of kiwis increased.

And "Hondy", who had just moved from Wanaka to Twizel, was their best shooter. He had accumulated 47 years of service.

According to them, Lou Sanson, director general of the DoC, had "the most significant conservation experience in the country – if not the world".

"Thousands of native birds are alive because of them – it's incomprehensible what happened."

Several residents wondered how Wallis' two surviving boys, Jonathan and Toby, could continue to fly.

But it was really a passing thought.

"It's in our blood, it's in our family," Toby said.

"If someone has an accident on the road, you do not stop driving."

Ed Taylor, General Manager of Warbirds Over Wanaka, responded to calls from aviation enthusiasts from across the country.

"Everyone is stunned by Nick's death," he said. "Nick was a great guy to work with … nothing was a problem."

Back at the lake, the wind has risen since the fall of Thursday, when it was calm, flat and perfect.

Now the whitecaps are up, the sun is gone. Tourists pack their backpacks and punch Google Maps while willows crying in rough waters. He suddenly feels closer to the South Pole than to the Equator.