Imagine standing atop a volcano, ash erupting behind you, and realizing you’re broadcasting live. That’s exactly what happened to 1News reporter Simon Mercep 30 years ago—a moment so intense, it’s etched in his memory forever. But here’s where it gets controversial: Was it sheer bravery or reckless risk-taking? Let’s dive into this heart-pounding story and decide.
On a crisp September Sunday in 1995, Simon, his cameraman, and helicopter pilot Tony Monk found themselves perched on Mount Ruapehu, New Zealand’s notorious volcano. They’d arrived the night before, just hours after the mountain had erupted, sending skiers scrambling for safety. The eruption had been captured on video by bystanders, and One Network News (now 1News) had aired some of the footage the previous evening. For a journalist, this was the ultimate assignment—reporting from the heart of the action.
And this is the part most people miss: Luck played a huge role in their story. After landing, they met a group of scientists at the Wairakei Geothermal Station planning to study the crater the next morning. The scientists had a helicopter but needed extra space, so a deal was struck. Simon’s team would transport one scientist, and in return, they’d get exclusive access to film the research. Vulcanologist Dr. Bruce Houghton joined them, explaining that this was Ruapehu’s most significant eruption since 1969.
Near the crater lake, Houghton noted the water level was dangerously high. As they spoke, a burst of steam shot from the crater. ‘Not life-threatening,’ Houghton assured them, and they continued filming. Later, they captured scientists measuring a ‘lahar’—a deadly mix of ash and water that cascades down the mountain. Dr. Peter Otway, another vulcanologist, grimly noted that if the mountain erupted while they were there, they’d have just 20 seconds to escape.
The climax came at the end of the shoot. Simon and his cameraman were setting up for a ‘piece to camera’—a direct address to the audience. Simon admits he can’t recall what he planned to say. Why? Because Ruapehu erupted behind them, spewing ash and steam. Adrenaline surged, and the wind howled in his ears. He glanced back, then turned to see his cameraman sprinting toward the helicopter. Pilot Tony Monk had revved the engine, signaling it was time to flee. But Simon, focused on the moment, hadn’t heard.
He chased after his cameraman, who stumbled into an ice hole but kept running, camera still rolling. The lens captured Simon’s frantic escape, his gaze fixed on the eruption behind him. They dove into the helicopter, and Tony flew them to safety. ‘Heart-stopping’ doesn’t begin to describe it. Simon recalls thinking they’d captured incredible footage—but also that they’d narrowly cheated death. Years later, the 2019 Whakaari/White Island eruption tragedy underscored just how lucky they’d been.
The team returned to Auckland that afternoon to prepare the report for the 6 p.m. bulletin. Simon spent the following week covering the ongoing eruptions, and his footage later featured in a volcano exhibit at Te Papa, New Zealand’s national museum. Houghton became Hawaii’s state vulcanologist, a role he’s now retiring from, while Tony Monk continued flying—but never again near an active volcano.
Simon still works with the same cameraman, who prefers to remain unnamed, embodying the humility of a true behind-the-scenes hero. But on that day, 30 years ago, he was undeniably the star, capturing a once-in-a-lifetime moment.
Now, here’s the question: Was this daring journalism or a dangerous gamble? Would you have stayed to film, or run for safety? Let’s discuss in the comments—I’m curious to hear your take!
