Rob McMurdo was born to ride. From that very first Raleigh Chopper with its ape handlebars to the teenage touring bike that got him safely to Nelson and back, Rob, like Forest Gump, just ‘kept on riding’.“I just love it,” he enthuses. “Riding a bike is where you sort out all your problems.”He’s equally enthusiastic about sharing that passion with his customers from the very young to the very old, from the extremely excited 7-year-old who squeals with delight to 90-something track cyclist Peter Grandiek.“You never get too old to enjoy that wonderful appreciation. We’re changing lives with the humble bike.” Rob on the job at Wensley’s in the early days, aged 19 or 20. Photo: SuppliedNow the long-time owner of Wensley’s Cycles, Rob was once that little boy.Sadly, his father died of emphysema when he was 7 – something he’s managed to keep under control himself.He vividly remembers his hardworking mum saving for a year to buy Rob his first bike, a Raleigh Chopper from Wensley's.“It was the best thing that ever happened to me. It changed my whole life. I was never off it,” Rob says. It gave him independence and freedom and started his cycling career. “If you had one of those you were really made, the coolest kid on the block. As a 9-year-old I did the Myross Bush circuit. Cycling’s been big all my life.”Born in Gore in 1962 where his dad was a car painter, which led to emphysema, the family moved to Invercargill when his father became ill.Rob out collecting bikes in the late 1990s, early 2000s, for Avanti which was sending them to Africa for people in need. Photo: Southland Times/Supplied“Losing Dad so young made me grow up quickly and appreciate things. It taught me patience and understanding. It made me who I am today,” Rob says.“Mum did an awesome job, and it was a happy childhood, but I had to stand on my own two feet.”Cycling wasn’t permitted as a sporting option at high school back then, and Rob refused to play rugby or cricket, opting for detention instead.At about 15 he and mate Garry Brown took up touring“We put bags and tennis racquets on our bikes and biked to Lumsden, camping out for a weekend and playing tennis,” he grins.At about 17 they biked up the West Coast to Nelson to holiday with Garry’s parents.It’s opened up a whole new world for him, touring Southland extensively and the South Island with many memorable trips.“I love the freedom, the people you stop to say ‘hello’ to,” Rob says. “People don’t have that much time for themselves. Biking sorts your head out. You don’t get angry on a bike.”Rob biking over Arthur’s Pass in 1991. Photo: SuppliedSo, when long-time Wensley’s manager Doug Boyd, who knew Rob’s stepdad, offered him an after-school job, Rob was over the moon. After six months he was offered a fulltime cycle mechanic’s apprenticeship – New Zealand’s first.“I remember being way out of my comfort zone on my first day but very excited as well. We didn’t have a till – just a drawer, and giving change freaked me out.” “Doug took me under his wing and taught me so much stuff. He and Graham Yates were wonderful mentors. I valued those older guys. I fed off that as I had no dad,” Rob says.They became his father figures.He was taught the ‘old fashioned way’ – the right way, the way he still operates today.“If I got something wrong Doug would guide me, showing patience and understanding.” Discreet Christmas Eve deliveries were the Wensley’s norm back then, dropping off bikes late into the evening and while shopping styles may have changed Rob still honours that free delivery loyalty to Wensley’s customers. He’s even delivered to Wanaka.That integrity, good honest service, and generosity to Southland has kept the customers coming back for almost 80 years and counting – 17 of those with Rob and wife Sandra as immensely proud owners. Through former owners Ross Wensley - son of founder Jack, and Alan and Joy Lindsay, and now as owner, Rob’s kept some of Southland’s top athletes, including Olympians, peddling. “We’ve gone from normal, traditional bikes for kids to adults competing on the world stage,” he says.Rob’s other passion – photography. Taking a break from his bike in the Catlins. Photo: Supplied“There’s a huge array of unbelievable technology available today, from electronic gear shifting, carbon fibre frames and forks to electric bikes now that have changed our landscape.”Rob remembers a very special moment back in 2010. Wensley’s had sponsored some up-and-coming athletes that were achieving very well, so well that they become world champions, Junior World Champ Aaron Barclay, triathletes Robert Huisman, Penny Hayes, Matt King, and Eddie Dawkins on the Velodrome.Wensley’s Cycles has proudly supported and sponsored many local cycling events. The Southland Triathlon Multisport Club for 30 years, the SBS Tour of Southland teams’ classification sponsor for over 20 years, and the Yunca Junior Tour of Southland (Time Trial) for 17 years.Rob’s volunteered as a mechanic for the annual Westpac Chopper Ride fundraiser for over 10 years, an event that has raised just over $1m for Southland.Wensley's is co-sponsor for the 8-hour Mid-Winter Solstice enduro race at Sandy Point, and more recently, main sponsor for the Surf to City.He’s even been known to give free dietary advice, unsolicited maybe, but the newly, unrecognisable recipients return months later to thank him.Rob during a river crossing in the Motatapu in 2009. Photo: Supplied“People come in saying the doctor’s said they need to lose 40kgs, but I tell them a bike is only a tool. They need to change their diet,” Rob says. “If they’re serious about losing weight, I’ve had a few take up the challenge over the years and win.” “You’re often selling a bike and people stop at the counter to say, ‘I’m buying this because you look after the cycling community. That’s why we’re supporting you,” he says. “We get that a lot, but I love giving back to the community that looks after us.” For Rob and Sandra, it’s “such a joy” to have a great team of people around them, all equally passionate about cycles.“Our staff are our biggest asset.”  It’s always been the Wensley’s way.When Doug retired in the 1980s Rob secretly restored the trusty old commuter bike that Doug had built himself decades earlier, painting it up with the name ‘Wensley Boyd’ proudly displayed across the bar. That became a family treasure.He’s worked alongside some “pretty amazing people” in his time and has a huge amount of respect for them and what they’ve contributed to Wensley’s and cycling.Rob takes a photography break during a bike trip in the Von Valley. Photo: SuppliedRob’s sometimes on foot. He loves tramping and has been known to ‘walk’ the Routeburn Track in a day taking 14 hours return from Glenorchy to the The Divide, a 60 to 70kms hike.Apparently, he’s even done 80kms - the Kepler Track, in a day, but a humble Rob prefers not to mention that.There’s still time to stop for his other passion, landscape photography too.“Southland is such a wonderful place to live with so many opportunities for adventure in the outdoors.” 

Tony Dawson knew he wanted to fly from the age of four when an Australian Air Force jet plane flew over his South Invercargill home.“I remember standing on a big wooden cable reel in the yard thinking, ‘I’m going to do that one day’.”This Local Legend story is brought to you with the kind support of PR LawAnd he did – fly that was, achieving impressive qualifications and recognition in New Zealand’s tightly regulated aviation industry. Tony, now retired from flying at 63, was a born teacher. He reached NZ’s highest ranking for a flight instructor (Category A) and became renowned for his commercial light aircraft and search and rescue pilot experience, navigating many a testing mission over the southern ocean’s most treacherous waters.Sometimes there was no saying ‘no’. Pigs not only might fly, they must. He’s flown Sir Tim Shadbolt’s Auckland Island piglets to Auckland on some very hairy night-time flights, all in the name of medical research. “One night flying back over Dunedin in a violent thunderstorm my rattled co-pilot sought reassurance, asking if the outcome of our flight would be a happy one,” Tony recalls.In his 20-plus-year aviation career there were quite a few such moments, including emergency landings in single and twin-engine aircraft, one headed towards a tumultuous Foveaux Strait. On another occasion he flew from Ardmore to Invercargill only to have his newly assembled Partenavia P68C, shipped from England, conk out on the runway on landing. “Small balls of PMC sealing compound had formed in flight blocking the filter screens in the fuel tanks. But thankfully, I’ve never broken, bent or damaged an aircraft, apart from flying through a flock of seagulls, on a night landing in Auckland,” he says.However, to a humble Tony, who’s spent his life giving to others, it’s the hundreds of well-schooled young pilots he’s trained that are his most remarkable achievement, most now flying commercially, domestically and internationally. “That gives me so much satisfaction.”Tony as a kid with his first brown trout out of the Mataura River. Photo: SuppliedYou could say Tony was destined to fly. “As kids, we were falling out of the neighbourhood gum trees in South Invercargill and “flying” off the frame of the backyard swing breaking limbs. It was almost a badge of honour,” he grins.He’d bike to the Oreti River fishing alone, aged seven, and by 11 or 12 was a Southland age group swimming champion. He also bred NZ champion bantam and heritage breed hens, showing at national level, thanks to elderly Mr McGinnis up the road who mentored him.There was always an entrepreneurial streak and a firm determination, Tony having to support himself from his mid-teens. Besides the numerous after school jobs, he’d fit in some duck shooting on the way to school. “I’d ride my motorbike back from Tisbury to Kingswell High and hand in my shotgun and ducks at the office, do a quick change, then collect them after school.” However, despite a strong academic performance his eccentric ways soon had him “asked to leave” in 7th form, his parents also unimpressed.Cows, kids and building a future - Tony, with daughter Laura, right, and baby Andrew, back during his farming days. Photo: SuppliedTony worked and lived on farms, gleaning all he could, especially about dairy farming and sharemilking. “I was a sponge. I was determined to achieve and succeed.” By 30 he’d saved, and proved enough to the Rural Bank, to purchase a 64ha (160-acre) farm at Dacre and build a high performing herd. Now married to South School sweetheart Bronwyn, he bred pedigree Holstein Friesians, using the best global AI genetics and leading the way with embryo transplant technology, showing his cattle and becoming a junior judge.A powerful spiritual encounter at 18 cemented a Christian faith that became a consistent thread throughout his life. Following that childhood passion to fly while farming at Dacre, he also became Rural Chaplain to the Mataura Valley in the early 1990s supporting the mass migration south of dairy farming families, initiating an Edendale Dairy Factory workplace ministry, and caring for freezing works’ families amid meat industry turmoil. “We nurtured and supported hundreds of North Island sharemilkers and new farm conversion owners arriving in Southland.”Here he got his first taste of journalism along with Geoff Heaps, setting up ‘The Pioneer Press’ publication with the Southland Dairy Co-op, aimed at supporting these families.Tony enjoying farm life. Photo: SuppliedOnce off the farm he seized the opportunity to fly commercially dropping trampers and hunters to Stewart Island, then flying and instructing for Southland Aviation College, as Southern Wings was then known.He was Senior Coastguard Pilot for 16 years, then president of Southland Coastguard Air Patrol, unfortunately seeing too many people die at sea, despite battling sometimes atrocious weather to search for and drop life rafts to them. “We could be operating as low as 250 feet (76m) above 9m waves in gale winds down near the Auckland Islands in unforgiving waters,” Tony says. “I recall searching for a missing Korean seaman and having my co-pilot complete a turn as the windscreen on my side was obscured by sea spray.”The Stewart Island Cessna 402 crash was another significant mission, crews only managing to save some of those on board. However, as a pilot you try not to focus on the sad and traumatic times. There have been many victories but having witnessed too many tragedies and having weighed his aviation past and future in the balance, Tony rolled into Southern Wings’ hangar for the last time in 2015. That ended 20 years as an A Category Instructor, Flight Examiner and Chief Ground Instructor. It was time to pursue other passions.A keen fisherman and freelance fishing writer, he was offered a role editing one of NZ’s most popular fishing magazines – an immensely satisfying five or so years. Tony, right, with Chatham Islands fisherman Richard Goomes and wife Elizabeth, delivering the message in a bottle back to him. Photo: SuppliedThe story of the year came in 2018 when a Chatham Islands ambergris hunter phoned. Tony had written a message on the back of a beer carton while hunting with mates at Big Kuri Bay, Stewart Island, in 2001, put it in an empty port bottle and tossed it into the sea. “This guy found the bottle 17 years later on the Chathams, ironically on ‘Ocean Mail Beach’, and rang to say he’d found it.” The guy invited him to the Chathams where this time Tony attached approved research tags to some of the dozens of blue cod he caught while in pursuit of a world record size catch.“Blow me down, I got a call several years later from a fisherman, who’d caught one of those,” he laughs. In 2011 Tony’s love of the sea and compassionate heart had him volunteering as first mate’s assistant on the Pacific Hope mission ship, sailing the Pacific Islands from Japan to Auckland, no autopilot on that mission.The minister in me - Tony while christening little Kinley at Richmond Grove. Photo: SuppliedAsked to “fill in” at Richmond Grove Presbyterian Church when the minister moved on in 2003, Tony, a gifted public speaker, rekindled his passion for preaching and ministry. After studying theology and training, he was ordained as a minister, that ‘filling in’ role only ending recently after more than 19 years of service.He’s also served as PSS Southland Trust Board deputy chair and PSS Retirement Villages chairman, so several years ago it was time to pursue his own long-held creative passions.One of Tony's paintings. Photo: SuppliedTony wrote his first children’s book then spent 18 months in Tauranga being mentored and developing his reactivated artistic gift, while also designing and maintaining bespoke gardens. He’s now happy painting in his studio in the old Invercargill Railway Station where his incredible works are already turning heads.“I’ve had a great life. I’ve looked up from the absolute pits of despair and surveyed the world from the absolute pinnacles of achievement, but that’s life.”This Local Legend story is brought to you with the kind support of PR Law

Colin Macnicol doesn't like to sit idle, so when he and wife Jean supposedly 'semi-retired' from their Southland farm to Arrowtown in 2006, Colin got busy.A former Southland Deer Farmers Association chairman and national selection panelist, long time Rotarian and talented musician, Colin's probably best known locally for his jive - churning out old favorites on the piano accordion on the back of the Arrow Miners Band truck.His warm, friendly farmer smile has also calmed many a first day nerve on the Arrowtown and Wakatipu High school buses for almost 20 years.His farmer skills soon had him driving for Gibbston deer farmer Murray McWhirter and then carting grapes in the truck for local wine growers.Colin has emotional ties to Arrowtown, his dad the brother of Mount Aurum Station's legendary Archie Macnicol."My dad, Duncan, was born in Arrowtown - the first of seven kids, taken home to Skippers on a horse with his mother, aged three weeks."He managed Mount Aurum Station from the age of 16 or 17 until he was 21.He then managed southern stations, eventually farming in Woodlands.Colin Macnicol on piano accordion and long-time band mate Wayne Sinclair on lead guitar. Photo: SuppliedAt 15, Colin discovered a love of music after taking up the piano accordion - "an excuse to drive the car to Kennington on the outskirts of Invercargill for lessons."A natural, he was quickly invited into an adult band with renowned musician 'Mrs Lemin'.Colin and his high school mates formed a teenage dance band - The Naughty Knights, played dances and parties at almost every hall in Southland for some thirty years.Eventually Colin graduated to the electric organ.A farm boy at heart, he was heavily involved in Young Farmers and later Federated Farmers.He soon met his match in Jean, a farmer's daughter from Mokoreta, and well-travelled, champion debater."Don't argue!" he grins.When they married in 1968 Colin's dad helped them into a 400-acre (161ha) dairy and sheep farm."We milked our own cows and made our own butter in those early days", he says.Colin in the deer shed. Photo: SuppliedThey've always been a team so when Colin, ever the innovator, wanted to try the new craze of deer farming in 1978 Jean was right behind him.Lamb prices had been low, so they bought three live capture hinds for a hefty sum, borrowing the money from "The Firm".Always up for a challenge, Colin was then the first to host a young French agriculture exchange student."We'd be driving around the farm sorting out a lot of swear words", he chuckles.At 62, Colin had a heart attack, also losing his sister around the same time."I thought, 'I've got things to do before I finish up'."With no family keen to take over, they sold the farm near Dacre and moved to Arrowtown where Colin, stent in place, had a new lease on life.Colin, left, and the family, from left, Kirsty, Lynette and Paul, with Jean in front, before leaving Lone Gum farm. Photo: Supplied"My first job was driving the Arrowtown School bus," he says."I love the kids. They're great."On his first day the first stop was Hogan Gully Road."I was being very careful, and I picked up a boy who could recite all the Roman Generals. I asked him to help me with the stops as it was my first day," Colin says."He said, 'Yes I know, cos you went so slow down the hill and around the corner'," Colin grins.On another occasion a first-day newcomer quietly hung on until the last stop at Gibbston, last one on the bus, where he finally asked, 'Is this Jack's Point?'Colin's served as valued Rotarian for almost 40 years - Invercargill East and Queenstown, including a stint as president down south.As chairman of the Southland Deer Farmers Association, he oversaw one thousand members and is now a life member, also representing Southland on the National Selection and Appointments Panel in Wellington.In Queenstown he landed the dream job, carting millions of dollars' worth of deer for high profile, ex-Otautau deer farmer Murray (McWhiter), who dealt in trophy stags.Colin is a well-known foundation member of Arrowtown MenzShed, has served on the Arrowtown Village Association, Queenstown Districts Historical Society and Arrowtown RSA, somehow fitting in time to help Jean with Meals on Wheels.However, Colin's probably best known for his lively renditions and beaming smile radiating from the back of that unmistakable old Arrow Miners Band truck."I've done that since I arrived. There are only three or four of us left now," he grins, just a few months from his 80th birthday.Reporter: Sue FeaRepublished with permission from the Lakes Weekly Bulletin and the Queenstown App

He was New Zealand’s longest running breakfast radio announcer, starting out as the youngest at 24 and clocking more than 40 years in the game. ‘Boggy’ (John) McDowell and his on air, alter ego 4ZA mascot, Bertie Budgie, who joined him for daily breakfast birthday calls, were as essential as a cuppa and toast to kick off Southland’s day.Starting as a NZBC (NZ Broadcasting Corporation) cadet at 18, Boggy’s job ranged from wrestling celebrity cook Alison Holst’s feet free from camera cables during TV show recordings, to choosing music for radio stars like Neil Collins. He was taught by the best, quickly promoted from programming to announcing in 1979 where he infused his own unique style.“All the other announcers were embarrassed by Bertie, but I embraced him,” Boggy grins. The pair became Southland celebrities, visiting schools and community shows.Boggy, left and Bertie doing their thing back in the day. Photo: LWBUnfortunately, a 4ZA receptionist put paid to that taking Bertie, who lived in a birdcage in the station foyer, to a vet because she believed he was suffering from nervous tension. The vet agreed and Bertie was supposedly sent to Hollywood for ‘a movie role’, a staff member flying to Christchurch and returning in a large budgie costume to mass crowds of hundreds waiting to greet the bird ‘on return’ at Invercargill Airport. “So many people turned out that they were worried the terminal tunnel would collapse,” Boggy chuckles. “I still get people in the (hospice) shop here in Queenstown who remember me, and Bertie.”His 33-plus years in breakfast radio gained him national acclaim, earning him a QSM for broadcasting and community service and the country’s top honour for outstanding contribution to broadcasting.Not bad for a farm boy from Boggyburn in Central Southland, the place that would earn him a nickname that stuck when an American consultant asked for one, as the newsreader was also John (O’Connor). “The DNTV2 staff in Dunedin rolled around laughing when I said I was from Boggyburn so this guy said, ‘Great! You’re Boggy’.”A strong tennis player from age seven at tiny Otapiri School, Boggy was soon under the watchful guise of Southland kids’ coach Neville Hoskin and playing at national tournaments. “Kevin Hamilton and I fancied our chances in the NZ U15 Doubles, but we played Russell Simpson and 12-year-old Chris Lewis in the first round and that was it,” he grins. He raised funds for national tennis trips plucking dead sheep and ‘rouseying’, while at 14, an entrepreneurial Boggy and his brother raised up to 100 piglets which they sold for a handsome profit.Rugby was always strong and while Boggy was a self-confessed ‘ratbag’ initially at Central Southland College, new English teacher Michael Deaker swept clean, and Constable Cooper soon put paid to the underage drinking in the main street. “I got my act together.”After 4ZA’s Ross Fenton gave him his big break, Boggy was sent to Dunedin as floor crew boy on TV shows. “I had to hide under the sink ready to free Alison Holst when she turned to the oven and always got her feet caught around the cables,” he grins. That progressed onto the Miss NZ Show, cueing the contestants left and right, making his country mates back home very jealous.Flatting with his student brother, the partying was sometimes a bit much. “I wound the auto cue for the likes of Charles Joye’s gardening show, lying on the floor under the hot lights. I fell asleep once and they had to start again.”He and Winton Kindergarten sweetheart Ann married in 1977 and, after training in Wellington, Boggy started his 4ZA breakfast role in 1979, private station Foveaux Radio arriving in 1981, requiring 4ZA to keep ahead of the game.“I was never in radio for my own ego,” he says. “I was driven by what radio could do for the community.” Boggy’s been at the forefront of so many high-profile fundraisers. From raising money to get NZ’s first heart-lung transplant recipient Ann Crawford to London for lifesaving surgery, and telethons, to pushing old baths from Edendale to Invercargill with teams of nurses and police, and organising All Black celebrity matches, it’s all been immensely satisfying.He’s also served on the founding board for Southland Stadium and Velodrome for over 20 years.But after short stints for Coast and Hokonui Radio, Queenstown beckoned and Boggy bowed out of radio.At work in his current role as Hospice Shop Queenstown manager - Boggy McDowell. Photo: LWBCleaning out to move to Queenstown in 2015, he went to Southland Hospice where regional manager, powerlifting champion Sonia Manaena, suggested he apply for the Queenstown Hospice Shop manager’s role. “It was the last thing I thought I’d do, but I love it.”At 69, while there are no more super early rises, current work hours mean a little less time for his beloved golf. Boggy played to a single figure handicap for more than 25 years and has won club championships at Green Acres Golf Club, where he was also president, and twice at Queenstown Golf Club.Reporter: Sue FeaLakes Weekly BulletinPublished by permission