Maria, Sarah, Josie, Tessa & Mrs Galbraith, you all spoke so beautifully at what I can only imagine is a terribly heartbreaking time for you right now. Thinking of you all. And thank you for sharing such a special person with us all.

Mel's passing still doesn't seem to real to me; he was one of those people who seemed like he would always be there. Although we hadn't seen each other much in recent years, whenever we did, it was like the years melted away. In 1995 I moved to New Zealand and started in Form 5 at Glenfield College. I'm not sure what Mel saw in me, but he didn't hesitate to welcome me to join in the Hihi translocation (the Stitchbird Project) from Te Hauturu-o-Toi to Tiritiri Matangi. I couldn't have had a better introduction to NZ. Those weeks spent on the island, learning about the forest and its inhabitants, shaped who I am. In the years after, Mel created further opportunities for me to join in trips to Tiri where we caught and banded petrels on the cliffs at night (before his fall), and searched the young mānuka scrub for signs of geckos, among many other things. Through this period, Mel was a role model to me in his humility, warmth and genuineness. Like Mel, I had a consuming passion for wildlife, but I've always had a tendency to be a little too enthusiastic and rash. The way Mel was able to channel his enthusiasm through his unflappable, good-natured calm has remained with me as my model for how to navigate life (that I still need regular reminding of). The way Mel saw potential in me, and was willing to give a complete unknown a chance, has become a core value for me that governs how see my place in the human endeavor of science and education. The mentor status of Mel in my life was demonstrated when I told my parents the news of "Mr Galbraith"'s passing, and all these years later they instantly knew who he was and how much he meant to me. I'm unable to be at his funeral, but instead, as part of my job, I'll be exploring some of the incredible wilderness at the very tip of the North Island. Something tells me that if he could, Mel would find a way to sneak out of his funeral and come north to join me in the scrub, binoculars in hand and jokes at the ready.

Mel was quite simply an exceptional human being. He was humble, loving, gentle, and gave the best hugs imaginable. His passion for nature was infectious. There are so many wonderful memories of family holidays in the mountains centred around our joint love of the outdoors. Long walks bird spotting or catching insects. I have fond memories as a child of watching Mel playing various instruments and even providing musical support to our numerous talent shows performed in the lounge at Holyoake, at the mountains and even at a folk club in Auckland in the early 80s. He was always fair when explaining why you shouldn’t do something, like when Sarah and I were caught “borrowing” mandarins off a neighbours tree at Badleys. I remember Mel taking us out in his row boat and teaching us about mangroves and the birds that lived there. Trips to Tiri were another highlight, seeing Mel in his element was a true privilege. He accepted me as another daughter and for this I can never ever thank him enough. His unconditional love meant and means more to me than he will ever know. My heart is broken that Mel will not be there when I get back to NZ and to Holyoake. It hardly seems possible that he is no longer walking this earth. His love and passion lives on in his beautiful family who he adored so very much. I will feel him on the gentle breeze, in bird song and in the beauty of nature. Amy xxx