Is this what it's like to die? This was one of the thoughts drifting through sixteen year old Barry Watkins mind as he clung on to the edge of his brand new surfboard. In a story of terror and survival Barry recalls what it was like to come face-to-face with a great white - the fifth shark attack in Dunedin history.

Out in the ocean, a dark shadow lurks beneath the surface unbeknownst to the person swimming above. And what that individual doesn't know is that he's about to be caught in the teeth of an unwieldy, man-eating shark.

"The first thing I had to do was find out where the shark was...I was absolutely petrified."

The thought of coming face-to-face with a Great White is terrifying. And anyone who has ever seen Steven Spielberg's 1975 thriller, Jaws, will probably agree. The film (featuring a mechanical shark) terrified viewers on its release, and its impact made people afraid to go into the water.

But five years before that movie, Bryan Watkins would find himself staring into the eyes of this deadly ocean predator.

There had been five shark attacks in Dunedin between 1964 and 1971. Three had been killed, with one of the bodies never to be found again. And Bryan Watkins was one of only two survivors.

Not much was known about the habits of sharks around this time and people suspected they preferred warmer water. But if you were to encounter one, defending yourself was simple.

"Punch it in the nose, they don't like it," Watkins says of the advice on offer.

"But if anyone can put that into practice while they're being attacked, I would certainly congratulate them."

It was a Tuesday morning on the 30th March, 1971 when Watkins, then 16-years-old, headed out to St Clair Beach. He was skipping school with a couple of friends. An avid surfer he was keen to try out a new board.

"It was in a time when surfing was going through what was called the short board revolution. We were going away from surfboards that were in the 8-9 foot range and boards were getting shorter and shorter."

Watkins' brand new board was only 6-feet-long, and he says they were considered 'the perfect new design.'

There are 30 beaches within a half-hour drive from the centre of Dunedin, which is known for great surfing with its wide open swells from the South West to the North East, ranging from up to six metres or more during winter. And St Clair Beach was no exception.

Despite local residents' awareness of the previous shark attacks, Watkins wasn't deterred from getting in the ocean. …

Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

Rugby legend Sir Bryan Williams made All Blacks rugby history as the first player of Pasifika blood to play in Apartheid-era South Africa in the early 1970s. He talks to Sonia Yee about the cultural obstacles and challenges heading into the three-month tour, what it meant for Black South Africans and why he's advocating for Pasifika players today through Moana Pasifika.

Today, Pasifika players are commonplace in the All Blacks, and rugby in general. But that hasn't always been the case. During Sir Bryan Williams' time there were cultural barriers.

​Listen to the podcast to find out what it took for Sir Bryan Williams to alter rugby history

The year was 1970 when a shy, 19-year-old Bryan Williams was selected to play for The All Blacks. It was an exciting and daunting time.

"I was selected alongside many of my heroes - Colin Meads, Brian Lochore, Malcolm Dick, and a whole array of top players who I'd spent the 1960s absolutely idolising, and then suddenly I was selected alongside them, so I was terrified," Williams recalls.

"Coming into the All Blacks, you're always under pressure. There's the expectation that you live up to what the jersey stands for."

Williams was only just getting used to the spotlight in his rookie year, when he was selected for a three-month tour to play against the Springboks in apartheid-era South Africa.

While Williams was not the first Pasifika player to join the All Blacks - Walter Batty, and brothers Frank and Dave Solomon came well before him - Williams would be the first to travel there, but not without some anxiety leading up to the tour.

The system of apartheid, which translates as 'apartness' in Afrikaans was built on a legislation of separatism and racial segregation under a white-led National Government.

Formally coming into law in 1950, apartheid kept those of black and coloured skin completely separate from whites in the public domain. Designated areas were set up on the basis of skin colour.

'Whites Only' signs would be seen hanging in shop windows, on park benches, at entrance ways to cafes and restaurants, and even access ways to beaches.

Interracial marriages were banned and all South Africans were classified into four groups - black, coloured (mixed race), white, and later, Asian (for Pakistanis and Indians).

Previously, in 1960 Māori All Blacks were banned from touring to South Africa and New Zealanders were signing petitions opposing the exclusion and the tour.

Ten years later, Williams and the three Māori players - Sid Going, Buff Milner and Blair Furlong - would be admitted under a special pass, giving them what was referred to as 'honorary white status.'…

Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

Not much is known of the suburban zoo that was once situated in Christchurch's North Beach. But those who visited recall eyeing up a mysterious crocodile in a small glass enclosure. In this episode of Eyewitness, Sonia Yee uncovers some myths, and finds out why it has left many with a mix of wonder and bewilderment.

Roaring sounds of Suzy the lion would wake up local residents in an otherwise quiet suburb in Christchurch. The mini zoo known as North Beach Zoo was situated at 153 Beach Road. A former aquarium it was re-imagined by Bill Grey who bought it in the late 50s.

​Listen to the podcast to hear more of Miles Dalton's adventures with the animals and why the zoo leaves behind mixed emotions.

"It had a very special place in my heart," says Wellington-based Aaron Alexander.

Alexander visited the mini zoo many times with his grandmother who lived in the area. And to this day, the crocodile in a glass case near the entrance, remains firmly in his memory.

"As a little kid I wouldn't want to get any closer...it was a beautiful mix of terror and excitement," he says.

The zoo was established before Orana Wildlife Park, which didn't open its doors until the mid-seventies. So for many visitors, the mini zoo provided an opportunity to see large, wild animals up close and personal.

But what also made this zoo peculiar is that it was small - a stone's throw from the beach and across the road from a golf course, it was also surrounded by residential properties.

"It wasn't really aimed as a big money making venture," says Miles Dalton who worked there part-time as a student.

Dalton says the entrance fee for visitors was around $3 dollars for adults, and half that again, for kids.

During the summer months it was bustling with families and tourists, and visitors could buy cups of food to feed to the smaller animals. Although it seemed like an odd location for a zoo, it was established before the area became residential.

"There was a point where Bill used to take the lion for walks on the beach," says Dalton.

"But then it got too populated, so he couldn't do that."

Dalton refers to owner Bill Grey as a 'hard worker and a lovely man who really cared for the animals,' some of which, had been acquired not by choice, but because previous owners had mistreated them, and the animals had shown signs of neglect.

…

Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details