Do We Have a Right to Know?

We've had a very tragic couple of weeks here in New Zealand - and one event seems to have stirred up some questions about whether or not news reports should show us every last detail.

In the great scheme of things, the story is nothing out of the ordinary. Tales like this happen somewhere in the world, probably every day of the week. To cut a long story short, a small SouthernAir Cessna aeroplane ditched into Foveaux Strait, at the south end of New Zealand's South Island, a few minutes after takeoff from Stewart Island.

The trip had been done a hundred times before. The passengers and pilot were a mixture of regular travellers and visitors. There were ten people aboard. Only five of them lived.

It's the back end of winter here in the southern hemisphere. Stewart Island is one of the last bits of inhabited land before you get to Antarctica. In winter time, the water in Foveaux Strait is very, very cold.

The pilot of the doomed Cessna executed a textbook landing after both engines failed. He did everything he could to ensure the survival of his passengers, and no-one was killed when the plane hit the water. The pilot lost his life by returning to the stricken craft for more flotation aids.

As evening fell, rescue teams frantically scoured the water looking for any sign of the aircraft. As time ticked by, the cold took its toll, picking off the weaker passengers. One small English boy, visiting this country, died in the arms of his father. His body slipped away into the icy water, and (at the time of writing) still hasn't been found. There isn't a heart in New Zealand that hasn't been touched by the tragic dignity of that family as they came to terms with their loss.

Broadcast news response

I was sub-editor on duty in our radio newsroom when the plane came down. We faithfully reported the mayday call, the search, the eventual rescue, the tragic loss. I believe radio covered the story responsibly, and sensitively.

That night on TV, we watched the evening news tell the same story. But now we had the pictures to go with it. Horrific pictures of boats bringing bodies back into the little harbour of Bluff. We heard the sounds of people groaning in pain and misery following their rescue. The cameras seemed to linger on the shrouded, silent bodies as they were wheeled into ambulances. I will never forget the sobbing groans of one small child which pierced the night.

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