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Image: Archi Banal
Image: Archi Banal

Pop CultureJune 1, 2022

How a New Zealander became the star of reality TV’s best franchise

Image: Archi Banal
Image: Archi Banal

Below Deck fan favourite Aesha Scott tells Alex Casey about the scene that still gives her shivers, and stepping up to perform ‘literally the most stressful job ever’ in new series Below Deck Down Under.

This story contains references to sexual assault. Please take care.

There’s a moment in Below Deck Mediterranean season four that made New Zealander Aesha Scott realise the true power of a silly reality show set on a luxury yacht at sea. During a drunken night out on land with the crew, her love interest at the time, Jack, makes a joke about her expression. “Why is your face, looks like you’ve just been raped,” he slurs. “Don’t make jokes about that,” Aesha says firmly, pushing his arms off her. “I have actually been before, so it’s not funny.” 

It’s a breathtaking exchange that, to his credit, leads to a lot of emotional reflection from Jack, who candidly tells the camera in his interview the next day about how much he regrets his joke. “To go through that shit and then I’m like a fucking dickhead making a joke about it,” he says, eyes red and nose raw from crying all morning. “I can’t think about anything else.” 

That episode of Below Deck Mediterranean first aired in 2020, but Scott says its impact still gives her “shivers”. To this day, she gets messages from survivors all over the world, applauding her for speaking up. “They say watching me saying that was the first time they’ve been able to tell their partner or their family about it,” she says over Zoom. “I never knew that I would be able to have that much power to let other women not feel ashamed about it.”

It’s hardly the kind of outcome you would expect from a reality series that follows drunk goons on a luxury super yacht, but anyone who knows the franchise knows that Below Deck is full of surprises. The series is the perfect amalgamation of what makes so many other reality shows great – the pressure-cooker kitchen of Masterchef, the romantic trysts of Love Island, the nouveau riche of The Real Housewives and the workplace dramas of Undercover Boss.

All set in the middle of the sea, all at the total mercy of mother nature. 

Aesha and Ryan aboard Thalassa (Photo: Supplied)

“I’ve worked in yachting for almost eight years now, and before I even knew that this show was a thing, I always said ‘we need to record this, because this is all insane’,” Scott laughs. None of the drama on the show is manufactured, she says. “Every single boat you work on, no matter what, there is this much drama. That’s just what happens when the pressure is so high and there is so much sleep deprivation, throw that together with 16 or 17-hour days and things just blow up.” 

Despite working in tiny cramped crew quarters, Scott says the cameras barely register when the crew is in the throes of a charter. “They are honestly like ninjas,” she says, explaining that crew are instructed to act as if the cameras aren’t there, which means they can’t slow down or change anything to accommodate them. “They are literally jumping up over things, walking backwards, all this stuff to capture you while staying out of your way – it’s really impressive.” 

The only time the cameras do start to grate is when situations in the interior – her domain as chief steward – get stressful. “I’ll be trying to problem-solve a specific thing and they’re just right there in your face,” she says. From managing her team to juggling guest demands and liaising with the perpetually-fiery chef, Scott says her role is “literally the most stressful job ever.” Her secret? “Keep moving your limbs, just do one thing at a time,” she laughs. “If I stuff up badly at least it will make good TV, right?”

And Scott definitely makes good TV. After two seasons of Below Deck Mediterranean as a second stew and now stepping up to the chief stew role for Below Deck Down Under, the Tauranga local has become a beloved character for her terrific people skills and complete lack of filter when it comes to sharing outrageous stories from her personal life. Whether it is describing her first interaction with poo, or the assertion that she would “rather watch Gilmore Girls than suck a dick”, she has fast become a fan favourite since first appearing on the show in 2020. 

She admits her style of humour is unusual, especially for a New Zealander. “It’s interesting, Kiwis are actually way more conservative than you realise they are,” she says. “There are so many parts of human life that everyone does, but for some reason we all think it’s so taboo to talk about.” Although she is the darling of shocking moment YouTube compilations, she’s not in it for shock value. “I wouldn’t throw out a super outrageous comment unless I knew it was going to be taken well,” she laughs. “I think you’ve really got to know how to read your audience.”

On that note, our 15 minutes are up and there’s only time for one more question. I take a punt and read the room – does she still stand by her comments about Gilmore Girls? “Well, now that I’ve got my boyfriend’s penis, not so much,” she laughs. 

“But afterwards I would still like to watch Gilmore Girls.”


Jump on board for weekly Below Deck Down Under recaps – follow The Real Pod on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or your favourite podcast provider.

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Tipene Funerals aka The Casketeers (Photo: TVNZ)
Tipene Funerals aka The Casketeers (Photo: TVNZ)

Pop CultureMay 31, 2022

The Casketeers bears witness to our nation’s pandemic trauma

Tipene Funerals aka The Casketeers (Photo: TVNZ)
Tipene Funerals aka The Casketeers (Photo: TVNZ)

The always-delightful funeral home reality show is displaying, in its latest season, a whole new level of humanity and grace.

This story was first published on the author’s newsletter, Emily Writes Weekly.

Since 2018, The Casketeers has been gently showing Aotearoa how funeral rites and burials work, particularly in te ao Māori. The show’s latest season does something more – it honours and recognises the collective trauma we have faced, and continue to face, as a country living through the pandemic.

More than a thousand people have died from Covid-19 in Aotearoa. It is a number that feels unfathomable to some and yet acceptable to others. In season five of The Casketeers, set at Tipene Funeral Homes in Tāmaki Makaurau and Porirua, faces and names are put to those numbers.

Aunty Rachel was 91 when she died from Covid-19. Her whānau grieves deeply for her. She must be farewelled by just 10 family members.

At her small tangi, just one hour long due to Covid restrictions, Aunty Rachel’s grandson sobs through a beautiful eulogy and calls her a survivor.

He says, to her: “It felt like for the last 10 years you were fighting the good fight. Even with a broken hip you kept walking. I felt like you did that for us.”

Her son Hohepa calls her a survivor too, and “the last of her generation”. The room is sparse, the pain is immense, but you can almost see the deep love she inspires.

“To all of you…who are separated from us by a great distance we grieve with you,” Hohepa says.

She was struck down by this awful virus, but she had generations who adored her and was a taonga in her community, revered, an integral part of her whānau.

Every loss tells a story.

Every person is honoured.

Francis and Kaiora and the staff of Tipene Funerals. (Photo: File)

In Covid times, this is even more important. Tipene funeral owners Francis and Kaiora Tipene speak of the privilege of caring for the tūpāpaku as their whānau grieve away from them. They do not see it as a burden, but an opportunity to show the many varied ways that we can be good to each other and honour each other – even in crisis.

As Whaea Rachel is taken from the funeral home, an impromptu haka outside brings the staff to tears. Kaiora says she felt it represented all who couldn’t be there, all who have suffered. As the rain pours down and the tears flow, it feels so important that these moments have been captured for us all to witness.

On the northern border, whānau have another smaller farewell as they cannot leave Tāmaki Makaurau to bury Whaea Rachel up north. They sing to send her on her final journey.

“I’m so proud of our people. They do what they need to do in order to get the words said, in order to express, and to sing,” Francis says.

All of the staff show reverence for the grieving while working hard to protect them. Fatafehi (Fehi) Tamale, a funeral director at the home, must check their names at the door for a viewing. She struggles with the indignity of mourners being forced to check in, and responds with an even deeper care for the families.

Kaiora struggles to hold back the tears as she talks about wanting to awhi and hold grieving whānau and being unable to.

Francis talks about trying to combine technology and tikanga. Trying to affirm the dignity of the whānau who come through the doors of his whare, while keeping them safe.

Watching this now, in the orange setting, is a deep and important reminder of the lingering pain of the pandemic. We are still losing our people every day. Right now, as you read this, someone is on the precipice of life and death due to this awful and deadly virus.

The pain of being unable to grieve in person, having to alter the way you and your tipuna or ancestors have grieved forever, is traumatic. A scene where a mourner runs to the closed gates of the cemetery crying the name of her loved one feels graphically violent. She yells “I’m sorry” and you can’t help but think about how many lives have been irrevocably changed since March 2020.

Yet, we are forced again and again to return to “normal” – or the grotesque “new normal” which feels just like the old normal but worse. We must return to mahi again with no time to process what has been and to think about how we can recover.

After a power cut at the home, Francis sits with Kaiora and senior embalmer Jay Evans. He encourages them to take a moment to appreciate that the lights are back on. It’s typical Francis. He is a gentle man who takes great comfort in the little things – his leaf blower, his battery-powered vacuum – but he deeply understands what is most important.

The moment is light-hearted yet it somehow speaks to something bigger, our inability to stop and see what we have been through as a nation. The tiny and expansive pains, and the agonies of grief that erupted behind closed doors.

It feels impossible to fully understand or hold the enormity of it all.

When Francis cares for a woman whose husband dies in a horrific car crash, he tells her not to view the body. He says he has told her to leave “her mamae and pouri for us to carry”.

Witnessing the mamae, and seeing what it was really like for grieving families during the pandemic is important. In our bubbles, so many were sheltered from the sacrifices made to protect each other.

Honouring these sacrifices is a way to heal, as much as we can. And a way to claim back what this pandemic has taken from us.

My greatest hope is that when we look back on this time we will not remember the cruelty and selfishness of protests at parliament, people screaming at each other or refusing to do the bare minimum to protect each other. My hope is we will remember those who held a phone aloft and tried to bring together a grieving family. Those who stood silently in respect at the border as families said another devastating goodbye. Those who did the mahi to bring together the old ways and new ways. Those who gave up so much to keep others safe. Those who honoured the lives of those lost from Covid-19. Those who grieved alone at home to protect people they didn’t know.

We have lost so much collectively. Individually for some, the pain must be unimaginable. To heal as a nation there has to be time to reflect on this and to decide if there are things we can learn.

This season of The Casketeers shows how much we gain too – when we keep community and dignity at the heart of everything we do.

The Casketeers airs on Tuesdays at 7.30pm on TVNZ1, and on TVNZ OnDemand.

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