A Tintin Era Chopper Visits The City Where The Movie Is Made
A Tintin Era Chopper Visits The City Where The Movie Is Made
Feature story by Adam Fulton
Images by Alastair Thompson and from "The Calculus Affair"
The sea of the Wellington harbour flirted with the bow of the French Navy Frigate Vendemiaire as she sang eerily along the surf of this calm November morning. We came aboard seeking captain and pilot to investigate the undocumented past of the ship’s alluring aircraft. Nature abhors a vacuum, and the nature of this French frigate’s helipad saw only the finest of spirits haunting the scene.
Bearing a striking resemblance to the classic Hughes type helicopters and nicknamed "The Peanut" by the crew, Alouette, meaning ‘small bird’, exploded onto the scene amidst 1950’s post-war optimism. Sixty years later, the Vendemiaire’s visit to Wellington returns this relic and its astonishingly long service history to the modern-day era of Weta Studios and director Peter Jackson’s Tintin productions.
The bubbly lightweight design would have sat perfectly with Wellingtonians of the 1950’s. Nixon dropped by in 1953 with the brains of a Trojan horse, applauding New Zealand’s involvement in Korea and warning of communism. In 1959 we had our first ever street festival, the PR Office vaunting that Wellington "is not a grey city of grey streets." But today we are left with precious little evidence to bridge the gap between Alouette’s history and its arrival in Wellington over half a century later.
This narrow fistula of examination condemns the helicopter to the realms of speculation and guesswork. Did it serve in Vietnam or Tibet? Is it the same one that captured the imagination of Hergé when writing The Calculus Affair in 1956? The visual appearance of the ship’s chopper, chained up in the steely industrial French hanger, certainly conjures up the romantic ideals of escapism, Charles de Gaulle and yes, Tintin!
Helicopter images from "The
Calculus Affair" (published 1956)
"We are mainly involved in helping with humanitarian crisis, search and rescue, but there is a diplomatic side to our visits obviously." Says Captain Jean Christophe Olieric as we sit in the Officer’s Mess. One of the underlying reasons for their visit is to pay tribute to New Zealand’s armed forces. "It may seem funny but yes, it’s the same helicopter used by Charles de Gaulle and Tintin." His sea-blue eyes seem too young to nurture memories, but as we move onto the subject, something behind them flashes as he shuffles in his seat and clasps his hands, perhaps suppressing a childhood thought for the ship’s official representation in the media.
One thing that strikes me about our meeting is the pilot and captain’s rationale whilst explaining the helicopter’s role. Perhaps more interesting than the reasons produced, is the quest to produce reason.
"I think we have the oldest helicopter in the navy, but the advantages for us are that she’s always available. Because some of our main missions are search & rescue, patrols, it’s especially effective because the main equipment is your eyes."
At first glance the Alouette is striking. It is obvious that the pilot has a bond with his aircraft. The rivets immediately betray its age. Yet it still appears somewhat sleek and the nearly 360 degree viewing bubble around the cockpit makes the idea of flying in it intensely alluring. The vintage helicopter is mainly glass, no radar or whether instruments on board to distract the pilot’s focus. This also makes the chopper virtually invisible to the modern radar systems aboard naval vessels. Certainly a covert style approach that would have favoured the skirmishes of our 1980’s hero Tintin in the likes of The Calculus Affair. And it is unarmed.
"We don’t need to have weapons on our helicopter", confirms the captain. In fact, aside from "Peanut" and "Alouette", there is no official title for the nameless mystery chopper, similar to the one originally drawn by Hergé. Even the captain and pilot are unsure of this bird’s sketchy past, where it has served, or the exact association it would have had with Charles du Gaulle. The high turnover rate of the French navy’s equipment means that the helicopter will be replaced after two years, leaving behind it the task of trundling through the enigmatic flotsam of the navy’s archives in order to shed any more light on its service record.
It is almost a living testament the point where steel & iron become welded into the human imagination, and as T.S. Elliot once said, ‘between the idea and the reality...falls the shadow’.
Do you know anything about this particular helicopter? Where it has been?
"No, not sure." Is the hesitant chorus of captain and pilot. "It came aboard last year" volunteers the pilot, "but before that, I don’t know." The captain adds more mystery to the Alouette’s waters, and you can’t help but get sucked in, swimming in the legends like fish in a stream in a cave. "It is on board for three years, but after that it is hard to say where it will go, or where it has been." They seem genuinely honest.
I ask the pilot what it’s like personally to fly the elusive creature, outside the realms of training, practice or the flight manual. "It depends on the mission, the conditions...but generally I try not to think about it, concentration is important." But there are exceptions, as the captain ventures: "Fortunately here in New Zealand, we commissioned a training flight and we got to see these wonderful whales actually eating...so sometimes when you are over the sea, you can have moments."
In the words of Captain Haddock, blistering barnacles! Finally, a break in the icy heroism and a glimpse into Aluette’s persona. We wonder how they would feel if they saw the helicopter appear in the new Tintin movie, courtesy of Weta studios and Peter Jackson. They share an esoteric, bashful chuckle. "There is certainly no fear when you fly in one of these" says the captain, "so that would certainly be a plus!"
I ask the captain if the helicopter will visit Wellington again? "For me it’s a first and unfortunately I think it will be the last time she will be here." We down our coffees, wait for the heat to crawl up our spines before parting ways on a firm handshake. The helicopter is photographed for the last time in Wellington before she takes flight again into an unknown future.
The author with the Alouette and pilot - Adam Fulton is a recent journalism graduate visiting NZ from Ireland. Thanks to the Wellington French Embassy for assisting with this story.