Big pay, long absences: The Kiwis making fly in, fly out work

Landing a FIFO job in New Zealand isn’t easy. Some are managing the lifestyle’s unique challenges.

Caption:From the moment Sealord skipper Dylan Macintosh set foot on deep-sea trawler 20 years ago. he knew he wanted to be in charge.Photo credit:Tim Cuff

Less than 12 months ago, Uate Filikitonga, 25, was in the emotionally stretching role of a high school teacher in a South Island farming town, making “bugger all”.

After he and his wife prayed for a new opportunity, Filikitonga landed a labouring job on an Australian hydroelectric tunnelling project in January.

It involved FIFO, or fly-in-fly-out, from Christchurch to Australia with a roster swing of 14 days on and seven days off. The job allows him to keep New Zealand as his base, which is uncommon for overseas FIFO work. The added pay puts the family on track to buy a house in cash within four years, says Filikitonga, who has a four-year-old son.

“The difference between working in FIFO and being a high school teacher is when I have my seven days off working in FIFO, I can actually be present and be home.

“Whereas when I was teaching high school students, yeah, I was home every night, but I wasn't present.”

​While many FIFO roles require an Australian base, some workers have found a way to keep New Zealand as home. And it isn’t just underground jobs on offer. Other industries, including medicine and hospitality, are increasingly flying workers in and out of New Zealand for roster swings, according to industry representatives. There are also New Zealand-based sectors, like fisheries, hoping to attract workers to the FIFO life.

Dylan Macintosh, a skipper with Sealord, is FIFO and sail-in-sail-out. He flies from his home near Invercargill to Nelson to take over command of the deep-sea trawler Ocean Dawn. For six weeks, Macintosh and his 40-plus crew hunt for fish. Then, they fly back home for a six-week break before doing it all again.

​His three daughters were under ten years old when he started FIFO and SISO.

“Whenever I left to sea, there would be a lot of tears from the two older ones because they knew I was going away for a substantial amount of time.

“But yeah, as they grew older, they got to realise that Dad was home for six weeks.”

In the early days, a ten-minute phone call home once a week cost $190. Now, with Starlink satellite internet, “you can video call your family at any given time”, making the transition easier, he says.

Workplace safety has also improved, Macintosh says. That includes mental wellbeing support from companies, along with nutritious food.

“...it's not like in the old days when you go out in a boat, and you got a bloody mouldy, wet bunk,” says Mark Armstrong, a peer worker with First Mate, an organisation that provides mental wellbeing support for fisheries employees.

A few years ago, Sealord struggled to attract crew for vessels. Now, with higher unemployment, “people are seeing the benefit of a work life at sea, particularly younger people,” according to Sealord’s human resources specialist Fiona Thomas.

Civeo, a hospitality group that operates remote villages for staff in the natural resource sector, has a campaign targeting New Zealand-based chefs for FIFO roles in Australia, says Ali Cranfield, the company’s talent acquisition manager. Civeo is planning to expand New Zealand recruitment, she added.

​Perth-based mining career consultant Alana Mohi says two-thirds of her enquiries now come from New Zealanders, a significant increase from two years ago.

“They’re all saying the same thing: the economy is shot over there. The cost of living is too high. There are hardly any jobs.”

Keeping New Zealand as a base is difficult for entry-level mining workers, Mohi says, although some companies make exceptions for skilled workers like electricians and engineers.

In every call, Mohi says she is straight up about the pitfalls of FIFO. Workers can feel like they are living “in two worlds” between the mine and their families. Research has associated FIFO work with fatigue, isolation, psychological distress and pressure on family relationships.

“The mining industry, everyone thinks ‘Oh so glamorous, blah blah blah, you make all this money,’ but it’s got its own challenges...

Pete Wins, now in his 40s, spent half his life on ships and oil rigs as a remote submarine operator. Spending more than 220 days away each year contributed significantly to the breakdown of his marriage.

“The person at home almost doesn't like when the partner comes home because they upset the apple cart with the kids.”

When it comes to money, Wins’ former co-workers started their FIFO careers with big saving plans. However, only a handful reached their goals, says Wins, who is now an entrepreneur.

“The more you make, the more you spend... you get lifestyle creep, effectively, is what I'm saying.”

Filikitonga says his wife helps keep their savings plan on track despite the temptation of seeing co-workers buying “the flash jet skis and the big boats and the big Dodge Ram trucks”.

Tauranga-based Celine Isara makes four to five times what she would make in New Zealand as a nurse by taking short-term nursing contracts in remote Australian towns.

​Still, she would prefer a nursing job in New Zealand, but she can’t find one. A key concern is what would happened if there was an emergency with her adult daughter or another family member.

“...from Tauranga to here, it's four flights, and it can take two to three days [of travel]”

But she tries to embrace the adventure, seeing places she wouldn’t see otherwise, like a planned trip to Uluru when she finishes her current contract.

“There’s a good balance there.”