Finding Frank: Niece’s heartfelt tribute to one of New Zealand’s true hunting legends, Frank Erceg

Frank Erceg disguised in a chamois ghillie suit with his Rolleiflex twin lens camera. Photographed by Dave Osmers in the Godley Valley, 1961.

Frank Erceg was described as perhaps “the finest hunter in New Zealand” for his work as a marksman, mountaineer and photographer. In 1965 Frank and his mate Johnny Cumming were killed in New Zealand’s first helicopter hunting accident. Frank was 30. Louise Maich, author of Finding Frank, reveals in her own words, to Angela Barnett, the two-decades long journey around her uncle, the legend.

like peering out into the valley, seeing the way the trees sway backward and forwards. I sit and watch and try to clear my head and have a break from writing.

The property is around 4.5ha and is a QE2 protected open space. The majority of the trees around the house are kauri and rimu so that’s why the property’s called Kaurimu. It’s very peaceful.

When I see the wind coming down the valley, there’s something about the energy, seeing all the leaves move. I definitely feel Frank when I look into nature. He lived so much of his life close to it, remotely. He had a purpose-built log cabin on the Arawhata River in South Westland.

And here I am in Laingholm, a little bit the same. In my own hut in the bush.

We knew our Uncle Frank had a very adventurous, interesting life and died tragically young but that was about it. We lived in Christchurch and he’d just turn up. If it was the middle of the night, he’d open the window and jump on through and Mum would find him on the sofa in the morning. He might have been out boozing with mates or had a late drive. Of course, he always brought venison.

He died when I was nearly 5. There were probably some stories but they were never relayed back to us and stuff got buried.

When I had this idea for the book, and I knew that Frank had been a photographer as well as a mountaineer and a deer hunter, I knew I had to have photos. I had a few Mum kept in chocolate boxes but there was none of the archive of his work. None of his really good photography. But I had to trust that they would come my way. Eventually, they did. His diaries never surfaced after he passed away. There’s a lot of finding in this book. Finding his photos. Finding his story. It’s been an amazing journey.

Frank Erceg at Godley Valley, Summit Ridge in 1961.

It’s not really a strict biography, it’s a bit of memoir because I’m in there telling the story of finding Frank. Well, he found me.

It was 1998 and I was working on a film in the South Island. I was driving from Queenstown to Wānaka and I knew I was in my uncle’s country. Frank had hunted there. I was getting near Luggate and I can only describe it as an energy passing through the car, through me, and out the driver’s door. And instantly Frank came to mind and I thought, “Oh this really is my uncle’s country.” After filming, I flew to Christchurch and while there I went to the Art Centre bookshop and came across Philip Holden’s book, New Zealand Hunter. I looked through the index and there was an accolade that “perhaps Frank was the greatest hunter of them all”.

I bought the book and decided to get in touch with a couple of his mates and it just snowballed. I’d ring someone and they’d say, “Have you spoken to so-and-so?” Then I’d call them and they’d have a list and it carried on from there.

People always seemed to remember him. As soon as you say “Frank Erceg”, most people knew him. He was charismatic.

There’s a story in the book where Margaret, one of Frank’s girlfriend’s younger sisters, was holding a cigarette. Someone dared Frank to shoot the ash off at however many paces. When Margaret’s sister was holding out the cigarette, she realised that this was quite serious, because he was actually taking some time to line up to shoot it. Margaret now wonders whether he didn’t aim directly at the cigarette but the bullet went above and the wind took the ash off. It showed his marksmanship. He knew he could shoot high and the wind would take it off.

He was a daredevil. I wouldn’t say he was not safety conscious. Those deer cullers had to be because they were out in the mountains on their own so everything they did, they did with caution. But they had to be gutsy and confident to do their job.

Frank Erceg in position overlooking the Arawhata River.

Frank divided his time between hunting and photographic expeditions. A lot of those were published in periodicals of the day, the New Zealand Weekly News magazine. He had an eye for what would be interesting. In the late 50s, and early 60s, the general population weren’t going into the mountains like we do now. People could, vicariously through Frank, experience these amazing vistas and views.

For many years, I never had detailed information about the accident. When Frank and his mate Johnny Cumming died in 1965, there was one black and white photo in a book by Mike Bennett. I’d interviewed Mike and asked who took that photo. He said, “Oh yep, I’ll get back to you.” He never did. He passed away.

In 2014 I had a phone call from Paul Farrow, of Paul’s Camera Shop in Christchurch. Paul knew a bit about Frank from his father, Brian, who’d been a good mate of Frank’s. A customer had come in holding a CD with a bunch of photos to be printed. When Paul opened the disc, he recognised the images. They were of the accident. Paul calls and gives me his name. I contacted him, he wasn’t the photographer but his friend was.

So, I contacted the photographer, Bob Kilgour, who sends me really good high-res photographs and he knows the guy that led the recovery team. I got a blow-by-blow account. I ended up getting the coronial reports, police reports. Everything fell into place.

All because someone had walked into a random camera shop in Christchurch.

The venison recovery industry started with the helicopters coming in during the mid-60s, where they could go up into these mountainous areas. They would take the men up to high altitudes, they’d get out, shoot the deer, then the helicopter would return and pick up the venison.

But the way the deer were being carted on to the skids, there was no safety. It was a risky manoeuvre. Frank and Johnny had done it for five days previously but it didn’t work out that day. Those blades were very close to the ground. Very tragic. Both men died instantly. It sent huge shockwaves through the hunting community. To lose two in that way.

Six months after that they employed the cargo strop-and-hook system so helicopters were elevated.

They say sometimes when people die quickly, like Frank did, they stay around in the area. If that’s so, it makes sense because when he did bowl in through the car that day, driving into Luggate, it came from high up. It had such momentum. He didn’t come in gently but grabbed hold of me and hasn’t let go.

On my back wall is Frank’s famous photo of a stag.

I love the book for all its content. I’ve spent 20 years digging it all up. That’s how long it’s taken. He was almost lost, which is why the title is Finding Frank.

Finding Frank.

• Finding Frank: The Life of Frank Erceg – New Zealand Deer Hunter, Mountaineer, Photographer, by Louise Maich (Bateman Books, $49.99) is available on October 9.