Rob had just spent a month in Europe, pursuing his ambition to become the best dog breeder in New Zealand. His specialty was rottweilers. For four weeks he had roamed around Europe with a mate who was a dog breeder and kennel owner. They’d rented a small Peugeot to get them about and had spent weeks talking to breeders and establishing contacts, all the while gathering as much information as they could.
At the end of their trip the two had parted ways to fly home separately. Rob was in a hurry to get back and had phoned his wife that morning after he missed the bus that would take him to the airport. His wife and two small children were waiting for his return in Otaki and he was anxious to get home; he told his wife that he had no idea if he could get to the airport on time to make his scheduled flight home. But the Netherlands’ efficient transport system meant the next bus was only minutes away, so he had managed to make it and board his plane on time.
Rob Ayley had left high school at sixteen and life hadn’t always been easy for him. Diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome as a teen, he had struggled to read other people’s emotions. He’d skipped from job to job—fast food, horticulture, cheese-making—and flitted between obsessions, from cars to drumming and eventually to rottweilers, after his parents bought him a puppy. He had also had his flamboyantly extravagant moments: he’d once dyed his hair blue and he was now growing dreadlocks. He felt and acted young, and he was known as a generous guy who would give you the holes in his pockets if you wanted them. Rob toted a bag full of dreams for the future.
With his passion for rottweilers, it was his personal ambition to introduce the best of Europe’s bloodlines into his breeding program in New Zealand so that the breed could become the noble and safe dogs they had the potential to be. To achieve this, he had left his family behind for a month. Rob was not well-travelled and often highly disorganised, so his family had had their doubts about this trip. But in Europe Rob had come face to face with the world’s most beautiful rottweilers, and he’d also made new friends and valuable contacts.
To be separated from his family for so long was hard. His wife, Sharlene, was his soulmate, and they had changed each other’s lives. While Rob sometimes struggled with everyday social communications, their two boys, Seth and Taylor, had become people he could understand, love and trust. His kids were like open books to him and he was now eagerly looking forward to returning to them and Sharlene. It had been a long and exciting journey, but he was content to finally be heading home.
Seated in the first row of business class were Australians Albert Rizk, a real estate agent, and his wife, Maree. Returning home to Victoria after a holiday, they had spent the last month travelling through different European countries. The couple loved to travel and had hopscotched the globe, from Thailand to Fiji to Europe. This time the Rizks had nearly skipped the trip due to family commitments, but a change of plans freed them up to join their friends Ross and Sue Campbell. The Rizks and the Campbells had become more like family than friends ever since Sue and Maree first met at a mothers’ group when their now grown-up children were babies.
Albert worked for Raine & Horne in Sunbury, forty kilometres north-west of Melbourne, and he was a committee member at the Sunbury Lions Football Club, where his son played. He was known to serve an exceptional Sunday roast. Maree dabbled in everything from property management and writing to volunteering at the Royal Children’s Hospital in Melbourne and was a member of a community book club.
The Rizks took pride in their two children. Their daughter, Vanessa, was a youth worker at a local secondary school, while their son, James, was carrying on in his father’s footsteps as a property manager at the rival Raine & Horne agency in neighbouring Gisborne.
With the Campbells, Albert and Maree had had a ball travelling through Italy, Switzerland and Germany; it felt like they’d laughed for a solid month. All four of them had realised a lifelong goaclass="underline" climbing to the top of the Klein Matterhorn in Switzerland. Unfortunately, Albert and Maree weren’t able to snag a seat on the Campbells’ return flight, so they’d bought tickets on the same route a day later with Malaysia Airlines. It was high season in Europe and all flights leaving Amsterdam had been jam-packed. They had been lucky to get a seat at all.
Some of their friends were surprised that the Rizks were willing to fly Malaysia Airlines after the disappearance of Flight MH370. Maree’s stepmother, Kaylene Mann, had lost her brother and sister-in-law in that disaster. But Albert wasn’t too worried: their house had been struck by lightning a year earlier and Albert didn’t believe lightning ever struck twice. So their house was safe and so was their flight.
The night before Ross and Sue Campbell were due to fly out, the four of them had gathered at an Italian restaurant for a final meal and made plans for a reunion back in Australia. On Saturday next, when they were all back home again, they would get together to feast on the delicious Dutch cheese they’d bought, drink wine and pore over their holiday photos.
Mary and Gerry Menke were seated in the second row of business class. Born in Hilversum in the Netherlands in 1944, Gerry was one of six siblings who emigrated to Australia in 1953 when he was just nine years old. Although he had lived in Australia most of his life, he kept in touch with his family in the Netherlands and was now returning from a European holiday.
Gerry had met his New Zealander wife, Mary, from rural Bignell near Christchurch, while she was working in a pub in Mallacoota, Victoria during her working holiday around Australia. After they met, easy-going Mary cancelled her travel plans; even though she and Gerry were polar opposites, the couple were caught up in a whirlwind romance and soon married in New Zealand.
Curly-haired Mary was a colourful woman in every respect. She was quick to claim the centre of attention whenever there was a party, whereas Gerry could often be seen looking on quietly at the side. From the day they married, the couple had rarely spent a day apart.
As the years went by, they had four children—two boys and two girls—and ultimately their children had gifted them five grandchildren, all boys. Activities involving their grandsons took up most of their spare time on a near daily basis when they were home and left little time for anything else. But the Menkes were proud and affectionate grandparents and loved to help out.
Very much in the Dutch tradition, Gerry had a lifelong fascination with the sea, despite suffering from terrible seasickness. The lure of the ocean had first led him to a become a diver in the abalone industry, which he did successfully for thirty-five years until he one day contracted the bends, ending his diving career.
His focus then shifted to pearling and he became a pioneer in a new industry, culturing wild abalone pearls to be fashioned into jewellery. The business was unique to Australia and the family company, MAPA Pearls, had recently received a local business award and was going to be the focus of an upcoming episode of the TV series Coast.
The Menkes had a bit of a reputation as a couple of adventurous world travellers, often embarking on unusual trips. Their love of travel had taken them to the African wilderness, diving with whale sharks off Ningaloo and hiking the jungles of Borneo. Despite all their roaming around, their hearts always warmed when they returned to their home in Mallacoota, where their kids and grandkids were.