Milford Sound is sometimes referred to as the Eighth Wonder of the World
The South Island of New Zealand is a dramatic display of nature’s finest work—rivers carving through lush valleys, snowcapped peaks rising from the horizon, and famed fiords.
Usually, on vacation, I tend to avoid aviation. My daily life is saturated with flying—both personally and professionally—so I usually welcome the chance to take a break from airplanes. But a recent trip to New Zealand shifted my mindset. An unexpected invitation from Glenorchy Air sparked an aviation adventure that reminded me just how rewarding it can be to explore a new part of the world from the air.
The South Island of New Zealand is a dramatic display of nature’s finest work—rivers carving through lush valleys, snowcapped peaks rising from the horizon, and famed fiords. One of the most iconic is Milford Sound, a breathtaking fjord located off the Tasman Sea within Fiordland National Park. It lies within the Te Wahipounamu World Heritage site and is often described as the crown jewel of New Zealand’s natural wonders. Rudyard Kipling even called it the Eighth Wonder of the World.
Milford Sound
flying in the Kodiak 100
Despite its name, Milford Sound is actually a fjord formed by the erosion of ancient glaciers. It stretches nearly 10 miles from its head to the open sea and plunges to depths of over 1,300 feet in places. It’s also home to a small, tight-knit population of around 120 residents, nearly all of whom work in the tourism industry. Milford Sound is remote, surrounded by steep cliffs and dense rainforest, and is one of the wettest inhabited places on Earth, receiving large amounts of rainfall. All of this contributes to its untamed beauty and the challenges of reaching it, especially by air.
That’s where Glenorchy Air comes in. Based in Queenstown, the tour company operates a fleet of several rugged aircraft, including the Kodiak 100, Cessna Grand Caravan EX, and a GippsAero GA8 Airvan—perfect performance for New Zealand’s mountainous terrain and advanced enough for the unpredictable weather. I had the opportunity to ride in the right seat in a stunning Kodiak 100 alongside pilot Michael Rutherford for a flight that blended technical intrigue with jaw-dropping scenery.
We departed Queenstown and, within just 12 minutes, were soaring over the Southern Alps. The views were nothing short of spectacular—endless snow-covered peaks and glacial expanses such as the Olivine Ice Plateau, Earnslaw Burn Glacier, and Mt. Tutoko Glacier. One of my favorite moments on the flight was spotting hidden alpine lakes on the mountainsides that no one has access to except sky-bound viewers from above, as no roads or tracks lead to them. Thanks to the aircraft’s configuration and high-wing design, every passenger had a window seat, and there wasn’t a bad view in the house.
Michael pointed out landmarks and shared bits of local aviation knowledge between passenger briefings. “What I really love about this trip is that, depending on the direction you’re flying in or out of Milford Sound, you never see the same thing twice,” he told me. “On the way in, we usually take a northern route over three large mountain ranges, passing over glaciers while sharing local history with our passengers. On the way home, we fly past one of the tallest waterfalls in the Southern Hemisphere, standing at 1,904 feet.”
He added that Lake Erskine is a personal favorite. “It sits 5,000 feet above sea level and stretches about 1.2 miles long. Depending on the season, it can appear as a vivid blue from snow and ice melt, cascading into a large waterfall—or, in winter, it can look like a massive ice-skating rink, frozen solid just beneath the inversion layer.”
Despite being in unfamiliar territory, I felt right at home using the Garmin G1000 NXi avionics to track our route. The situational awareness made the terrain feel more approachable, and the Kodiak easily handled the conditions. We quickly stopped at a grass strip along Lake Wakatipu to pick up two more passengers. Though this strip at Glenorchy Aerodrome was on the shorter side, 2,215 feet long, it was well-maintained, and even with a full load, the Kodiak both landed and later climbed out effortlessly.
The final stretch to Milford Sound was the kind of flight that stays with you—one I immediately shared with friends and family and later went viral on social media (@schmiiindy on Instagram). Descending into the fjord, we flew a slightly offset, but generally straight-in approach to runway 11 at NZMF, entering a deep valley lined with waterfalls and towering cliffs. Below us, boats navigated the waterway, and while I scanned for local wildlife, such as penguins, dolphins, and seals, I came up short. Even so, the landscape more than made up for it.
Milford Sound Airport is not for the faint of heart. The terrain, weather patterns, and confined approach all demand respect. Most tour operators require their pilots to undergo specialized training and complete supervised flights before they’re cleared to operate into NZMF on their own, and from this approach, I can easily see why. Michael explained, “Milford’s weather is a beast of its own—it gets about 23 to 28 feet of rain yearly. For a VFR (Visual Flight Rules) scenic flight company, that’s a serious challenge. We average about a 60% success rate for completing a full day of flying. Getting there means crossing three major mountain ranges, some peaking around 9,000 feet. Each wind direction brings new complexities you must consider before leaving the base in Queenstown. Then there’s the airport itself—a 2,500-foot runway with one way in and one way out, affected by strong venturi-style sea breezes in summer and turbulent katabatic southeast winds off snow-covered peaks in winter.”
As we began our descent, Michael walked me through the approach planning. “Approach planning starts early—while I’m still cruising near glaciers around Mt. Tutoko, the tallest mountain in Fiordland National Park. You must be at certain points at specific altitudes to maintain traffic separation. Two key reporting points are Dale Point and Stirling Falls. I aim to be at Dale Point at 5,000 feet outbound—this sets up a scenic descent over the coastline and the Tasman Sea. By the time you’re over Stirling Falls, you should be at 1,500 feet.”
It was surreal to touch down at the foot of Mitre Peak, which rises 5,551 feet above sea level. The ramp was filled with Caravans, Kodiaks, Airvans, and Stationairs, all framed by towering cliffs and deep green vegetation.
And the adventure wasn’t over yet. A short walk brought us to the marina, where we boarded a cruise ship for an up-close tour of the fjord. From sea level, the same waterfalls we had flown past now danced in the sun above us, misting our faces as we got close. We enjoyed a picnic lunch on board the ship before returning to the airstrip to fly back to Queenstown.
Reflecting on the experience, Michael put it best: “It’s made me prouder than ever to be a Kiwi. I love what I do and what I get to share with people visiting our country. For many, Milford Sound is why they come to New Zealand—and I get to make that dream real. Living here is a blessing. Flying here? Even better.”
We really lucked out with gorgeous, sunny weather, but it made me realize just how delicate and rare such days can be here. Michael later told me, “We always take a conservative approach. People come to us for a once-in-a-lifetime experience—they pay good money and expect to see something amazing, not get bounced around feeling sick. We won’t go unless we’re confident the weather will allow for a quality experience.”
This trip inspired me to stop hanging up my wings during vacations. Whether you’re the one flying or simply enjoying the views as a passenger, general aviation can offer an entirely new way to engage with a destination. And sometimes, all it takes is an unexpected invite to remind you why you fell in love with flying in the first place.
