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Cannonball Run in action.  (Photos: Footrot Flats / Leisureland group on Facebook)
Cannonball Run in action. (Photos: Footrot Flats / Leisureland group on Facebook)

SocietyAugust 6, 2024

The twisty-turny tale of Cannonball Run, New Zealand’s forgotten rollercoaster

Cannonball Run in action.  (Photos: Footrot Flats / Leisureland group on Facebook)
Cannonball Run in action. (Photos: Footrot Flats / Leisureland group on Facebook)

With its humble origins, questionable safety record and nomadic character, the iconic Cannonball Run shouldn’t be consigned to the dustbin of history.

Rollercoaster enthusiasts do not exactly flock to the land of the long white cloud. Currently, New Zealand calls itself home to precisely one full-scale, non-“kiddie” coaster: the colourful corkscrew cutting through the skyline of Auckland’s Rainbow’s End. But once upon a time, there was another contender to our nation’s coaster throne. Yes, we were once a real society, united by the force of the iconic Cannonball Run.

The story of the Cannonball Run begins in the 1980s, when local company Mahons Amusements took a chance on the increasingly popular Galaxi rollercoaster model. Designed for mass production by Italian entertainment group S.D.C, Galaxi coasters made their way to the amusement world in the 70s. These steel beasts boasted two minutes of ride time, racing through sharp, unbanked turns and steep drops at up to 50km/h. 

Their compact footprints packed down easily onto only seven trailers, making them well suited to travelling fairs as well as stationary parks. Interestingly, Galaxis shared a nearly identical design to the Zyklon model by competing manufacturer Pinfari. These competing coaster styles succeeded in tandem, with over 50 models produced across the world. Our local Galaxi combined this advanced international tech with classic Kiwi ingenuity. Hamilton manufacturers crafted the jack stands and floor, and Mahons personalised the attraction by simulating the sensation of shooting riders out like a cannon blast.

The Cannonball Run in motion. (Photo: Footrot Flats / Leisureland group on Facebook)

Opening on Christmas Day 1985, the newly named Cannonball Run found its first home at Footrot Flats Fun Park on Auckland’s Te Atatū Peninsula. Formerly known as Leisureland, the humble park grew exponentially upon rebranding, using the iconic characters of New Zealand cartoonist Murray Ball. Cannonball Run fans strolled past his costumed characters, and modest surrounding attractions like the sack slide and Driver’s Town, before taking their long-awaited turn on the park’s resident thrill ride.

Although Cannonball Run beat Rainbow’s End to the punch by opening their major coaster a year before the corkscrew, it missed out on the title of New Zealand’s first steel coaster by only a couple of months, narrowly beaten by Christchurch’s QE11 Fun Park’s Runaway Minecoaster. However, a couple of years later, safety regulations deemed the Runaway Minecoaster too dangerous to operate, leaving the oldest steel coaster title to Cannonball Run.

Despite excited park goers hyping up Cannonball Run as similarly dangerous, with many a rumour of its “derailment”, it experienced very few issues throughout its lifespan. The ride’s only documented incident took place in 1988 at Footrot Flats, when staff mistakenly sent two carriages onto the track at once. This caused a collision which trapped passengers atop the ride until the fire brigade freed them. Thankfully, there were no significant injuries. In fact, the park became more popular than ever, with thrillseekers looking to prove themselves worthy of the daunting Cannonball Run. 

Ironically, the rollercoaster’s only ongoing struggle was occasionally running out of steam, valleying above the station and needing a push start to get going again. This mild problem left Cannonball Run ready for a new adventure when Footrot Flats closed due to financial struggles in 1989.

Following Footrot Flats’ closure, Cannonball Run made its way in the 90s to Hawke’s Bay’s Fantasyland. Fantasyland, at Hastings’ Windsor Park, positioned itself as our country’s own underwhelming but endearing version of Disneyland. The park fought hard for this title, with its homemade turreted castle, paddle steamer, and eventually a costumed Mickey Mouse that earned them a cease and desist notice. 

A Fantasyland postcard (Photo: Pictorial Publications Tiki postcard Ref P.4015, from the Bleak Hill collection)

Cannonball Run became Fantasyland’s answer to Disneyland’s beloved first rollercoaster, the Matterhorn Bobsleds. But its tenure at the park was so short that even many devotees are unaware it once lived there. Its run ended so soon because the Hastings Council bought Fantasyland out in 1998, reworking Fantasyland into Splash Planet, a waterpark which only opened during summer.

While the majority of Fantasyland attractions remained scattered through the grounds after the transition, from the rocket ship slide and flying fox to the rotting pirate ship, the council deemed thrill rides too out of the box for a seasonally operating waterpark. Alongside the Trabant, Chair-o-plane, Cinema 180 and Electric Speedway, the Cannonball Run went out with the Fantasyland name.

Kicked out of home once again, Cannonball Run returned to its original family, Mahons Amusements, near the end of the decade. The now ageing ride felt increasingly turbulent, perhaps in need of a retracking for a smoother experience, but it continued to run safely with no significant problems. Now, Mahons Amusements would make use of its portable nature. Cannonball Run became part of their travelling fleet, reserved for their biggest events. The ride appeared at the Auckland Easter Show, the Wellington and Waikato winter shows, and pop-up carnivals in Taupō and Rotorua.

Good times being had at Footrot Flats Leisureland. (Photo: Footrot Flats / Leisureland group on Facebook)

While Cannonball Run was always a crowd pleaser, it quickly became an operational challenge. It was transportable, but still so large that the set up and pack down for only a few days per location proved a hassle. Matters worsened in 2004 when head staff member Bill Mahons was unexpectedly killed, struck by a carriage on the Super Loops ride while undergoing daily maintenance. As a result, Mahons Amusements cut down on operations and packed Cannonball Run into storage. It would never run for the public again.

Cannonball Run waited for another day in the sun for many years, but Mahons Amusements finally scrapped the ride in the late 2010s, facing the reality that it simply could not meet modern attraction standards. Newer rides in the fleet proved to be much easier to transport, making the old rollercoaster too much effort for too little reward. 

Other Zyklon and Galaxi coasters continue to operate internationally, but their aged design is undeniably out of fashion and suffers from lack of new interest. Two identical models in Australia each met similar fates as our Cannonball Run. Luna Park Melbourne’s model was scrapped, while the first Australian version, which originated at Sea World, is now privately owned; whether it will ever serve the public again is TBD.

Yet physical memories of our Cannonball Run do still remain. Our model’s station and cars remain safely packed away in Mahons Amusements storage, perhaps to serve as parts for a future attraction. Thousands of challenge-seeking 80s kids fondly remember the ride as 10 times taller and more violent a beast than our little country could ever contain. 

It’s a reminder that we’re in desperate need of a rival to the Rainbow’s End corkscrew, which outlived Cannonball Run by decades. But while it may have lacked the bright paint job and craved a few inversions, Cannonball Run will always be a superior tale, a monstrous travelling coaster reminding us to go hardout, no matter the time or place.

‘Hutt Valley, Kāpiti, down to the south coast. Our Wellington coverage is powered by members.’
Joel MacManus
— Wellington editor
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SocietyAugust 6, 2024

The cost of being: A migrant expecting her first child, saving for maternity leave

As part of our series exploring how New Zealanders live and our relationship with money, a migrant expecting her first child and saving for maternity leave shares how she and her partner get by.

Want to be part of The Cost of Being? Fill out the questionnaire here.

Gender: Female

Age: 38

Ethnicity: Chinese

Role: Social worker

Salary/income/assets: Family income $274k (before tax). Investment + cash + Kiwisavers – mortgage = negative $400k.

My living location is: Urban

Rent/mortgage per week: $1,200. Two of us, soon to be three. Merged finances.

Student loan or other debt payments per week: $0

Typical weekly food costs

Groceries: My husband and I spend about $80 at Avondale market for fruit and veges every week, and about $120-$150 at supermarkets(PakNSav and Chinese) for meats and groceries.

Eating out: Close to $0. Special occasions only.

Takeaways: About $150 a month to have takeaways with my in-laws.

Workday lunches: I take leftovers, snacks and fruit with me everyday. My husband spends about $25 fortnightly when he goes to the office.

Cafe coffees/snacks: $0

Other food costs: About $20 every now and then for seeds and seedlings.

Savings: We save/invest $3,300 every fortnightly. We are currently saving up $30k for an emergency, so I can feel secure about taking a year of maternity leave for our first child.

I worry about money: Sometimes.

Three words to describe my financial situation: Concise, anxious, planned.

My biggest edible indulgence would be: Seasonal fruits. We buy about 10kg of fruit every week.

In a typical week my alcohol expenditure would be: $0. Neither of us drink alcohol.

In a typical week my transport expenditure would be: About $50 for petrol. My husband works from home mostly.

I estimate in the past year the ballpark amount I spent on my personal clothing (including sleepwear and underwear) was: $1,000. I bought my maternity clothes mainly from secondhand shops, Kmart, and a Chinese website.

My most expensive clothing in the past year was: $110, a puffer jacket from Uniqlo China.

My last pair of shoes cost: $100. A pair of running shoes when we were in China.

My grooming/beauty expenditure in a year is about: $300. My skin products are mostly included in our grocery bills. I go to my husband’s barber for haircuts for $45, which is incredibly cheap, and David does nice jobs and chats.

My exercise expenditure in a year is about: I signed up for a year of gym membership, and then paid a penalty of $200 to quit it, having been to gym twice in three months…

My last Friday night cost: $0. My husband and I are both introverts, not going out is the norm.

Most regrettable purchase in the last 12 months was: Gym membership! Don’t get me wrong, I used to squat 60kg at the gym in 2019. Something has gone, since the pandemic.

Most indulgent purchase (that I don’t regret) in the last 12 months was: The trip with my husband to China, or the wedding we spent $12k on.

One area where I’m a bit of a tightwad is: I can hear someone saying “you are a tightwad with everything” by reading the above answers… I may giggle and agree with it.

Five words to describe my financial personality would be: Rehabilitated spender became a tightass.

I grew up in a house where money was: Boomed and busted. My parents had regular poor periods by having more children (you pay the government for the “societal cost” when the law asked you to only have one child). And then they worked their hardest to have millions in the bank, pay for our education… In a way, the meaning of money was a bit twisted for me. I often feel poor and rich at the same time.

The last time my Eftpos card was declined was: In 2016, when I did not have enough money to pay at my GP’s office, after a minor surgery.

In five years, in financial terms, I see myself: Buying a house in the double grammar zone, or an investment property.

I would love to have more money for: A sense of security to enable me and my family to do or not do anything.

Describe your financial low: The incident at the GP office let me realise that the most powerful, if not the only, resource of a migrant – while you barely have any social connection in a new country – is, money, or the ability to earn money.

I give money away to: I budgeted $4K to give this year. Mainly in the form of cash (in the red envelope) or gift to family and friends. I do a bit of charitable giving via my pocket money, which is close to none. I like Simplicity’s donations survey each year, given most of our Kiwisavers and investment funds are with them, so I feel that I have given heaps to charities.