Mustering stock, navigating the vast landscapes of outback Australia and directing “ground crew'” from above is all in a day’s work for Natasha “Tash” Greenshields.
Tash is a helicopter mustering pilot.
A dream job that, not too long ago, she thought was beyond her reach.
Growing up on a cereal cropping farm before her family moved to Narraport Station, a sheep, cattle, and goat station in Far West New South Wales, the 25-year-old loves everything about living on the land.
Tash has worked as a contract musterer, livestock pregnancy scanner and a working dog trainer.
But ever since she got a bird’s eye view of the family farm from a helicopter, working the land from above has been her ultimate goal.
“As a kid, I always dreamed of flying,” Tash said.
“I would have been eight or nine … and I thought, ‘This is what I’m going to do.'”
Helicopter mustering may seem like a simple task.
But it’s a job that requires precision, skill, determination and, above all, guts.
The pilots perform complex flying manoeuvres to locate and move stock, direct and provide instruction to the ground crew, who then must identify and muster the animals.
This is all while ensuring you’re keeping the chopper safe.
It’s not a job for the faint-hearted.
Tash loves the “adrenaline rush” and “being in the air and working stock” but is also about the “simple things”.
“It’s nice to see a team working together,” she said.
“I get stoked seeing people working their dogs on the ground. I get like a proud mum, I think.”
Self-doubt almost derails career
Yet, Tash almost gave up on her dream of becoming a pilot.
Self-doubt and a few negative comments, made her believe her goal was impossible.
“I remember one comment was, ‘Why would you get your licence because you’ll be having kids and having a family?'” Tash said.
“I thought that was a bit ridiculous.”
But she said those comments really got to her.
“I don’t know why, but I really took that on, and it made me change my mind,” she said.
“I didn’t really think I’d be able to achieve that goal.”
The cost of a commercial helicopter licence was also a major hindrance.
Participants can be left between $50,000 to $90,000 out of pocket, creating a barrier for those wanting to enter the industry.
“The cost is a massive thing. It’s a big outlay for a chance at flying,” she said.
“Just having that doubt … ‘If I get my license, what am I going to do if I don’t have a machine to fly in?'”
The opportunity of a lifetime
Louis Bennell, co-owner and chief helicopter mustering pilot at Far West Helico, met Tash while working on her family’s station.
It was here that a conversation between Louis and Tash’s parents led to Tash realising her dream.
“Tanya and Andrew mentioned that Tash had always wanted to fly, something I hadn’t known up until that point,” Louis said.
“Without even thinking, I blurted out, ‘I’ll give her a job if she gets her licence’.”
Louis, who was looking to employ another pilot, said he had no hesitation in offering her a job.
“I could just feel that Tash could do it. She had the right temperament,” he said.
“She had a good attitude, she’s always happy.”
Tash, who was away, was yet to learn about the conversation.
Half an hour later, she was offered the job.
It was a phone call she had not expected.
“I got a phone call from him [Louis] saying, ‘Look mate, if you get your licence, we’ve got a job waiting for ya,'” Tash said.
“I was just so excited … but at that stage, I had pretty much given up on the idea that I was going to fly.
“So it was … conflicting.”
But her family convinced her this was an offer she couldn’t refuse.
“We came up with the conclusion that I would have been pretty silly to turn down that opportunity,” Tash said.
“I went for it, and basically, 12 months later, here we are.”
Industry still male-dominated
Working in an industry with few female pilots certainly comes with its challenges.
“It is definitely a very male-dominated industry,” Tash said.
But the times when she felt she might not be taken seriously due to her gender have been rare.
“Most people are well and truly past that now,” Tash said.
“At the end of the day, you go there to do a job.
“If you do the job right, the farmers are happy with that, whatever [gender] you are.”
Despite her mum being nervous about the risks, Tash said both her parents trusted her.
“Dad, he just loves it and knows I’m not going to be an idiot in the machine. He’s got full faith in me,” she said.
“So does Mum. But I think that’s a mother thing. She’s got to worry.”
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