Former TV weatherman Mike Larkan on how Canberra propelled his career

Anyone who grew up in Canberra in the 1980s and ’90s would recognise these three nicknames – Robbo, Chapo and Larko.

Greg Robson, Peter Chapman and Mike Larkan did news, sport and weather on Canberra’s only commercial TV station at the time – Capital – and were among the most familiar faces of the town.

Having recently looked back at the life and times of Robbo, we now profile the career of his great mate Larko, the 64-year-old who pioneered outside on-location weather broadcasts and whose stint in Canberra propelled him to becoming a Melbourne celebrity.

We look back at a career that includes working with actress Brooke Shields in a Hollywood movie, Canberra’s media heyday, the dynamics of the Robbo-Chapo-Larko trio, his long rise and abrupt fall on Melbourne TV and how he reinvented himself as a wedding celebrant.

Did you always want to be in the media?

I was born and bred in Guildford in western Sydney. There were three people I grew up admiring: Bert Newtown and American late-night hosts Johnny Carson and David Letterman – I later got to visit the studio of all three and do segments with Bert.

I really wanted to become a radio announcer. I dropped out of school after year 10 and enrolled in the Max Rowley School of Radio at age 16, where I first met Robbo. That’s how far we go back. After graduating, I drove out west and went to towns that had radio stations and just knocked on doors to find work. My first radio gig was in Inverell, and I then worked at Tamworth.

How did you go from Tamworth to acting alongside Brooke Shields in Israel?

I had dreams of becoming a famous radio announcer as a boy. But I thought if I haven’t achieved that by age 21, I’m going to pack my bags and circumnavigate the globe. So I went to London and spent two years backpacking around Europe. I worked in a bar in London, picked olives in Greece and spent Christmas in Bethlehem before working in a kibbutz in Israel.

Back then, I was in love with the actress Brooke Shields and as luck would have it, she was working in the Negev Desert in southern Israel on a movie called Sahara. I caught a bus out to the desert, met the casting agent, and gained six weeks’ work as an extra in the movie. I ended up being the stand-in for the male lead and got to talk with my idol every day on the set.

Then from the Negev Desert to Canberra?

When I came back from overseas, my friend Robbo was living in Canberra. It was 1984 and he was doing breakfast radio for 2CA. I went to stay with him when 2CA was looking for a casual midnight-to-dawn host. I secured that gig and then started getting other shifts.

I also joined Capital Television as a news reporter, where I ended up working for 11 years.

How did you become the weatherman?

When the station employed Sydney ABC presenter Geoff Hiscock, Robbo, the weatherman, became the sports reporter, and I started doing weather in 1988. It was just a good fit.

During that period, the Canberra Raiders were a rising force, so they got a footy specialist on the news team – Peter Chapman. So there was Chapo, Robbo and I became Larko. The three of us were all the same age, we were best mates, we did the Birdman Rally together. We were on billboards, on Action buses, everywhere. The Canberra Cannons also got big, the new Parliament House opened, it was just a fabulous time to be in the capital.

Was there any rivalry between the three of you?

There was no rivalry whatsoever. We were such good mates, we bought houses near each other, we socialised, we went to see the Raiders and Cannons together.

When I got married, Robbo was my MC, Chapo was one of my groomsmen and we remain great mates today.

The blokes Robbo, Chapo and Larko seemed to be constants on TV for a decade-plus while the female news presenters changed every second year. Why was that?

Good point, but I don’t know, to be honest. We were all under two-year contracts. Different female newsreaders came and went. One presenter, Christine Kininmonth, was very good and very ambitious, she always wanted to go to Sydney and ended up going to Channel Seven and doing morning TV there.

How did you change the way the weather was presented?

I wanted to have a bit more fun. I was the first weatherman in Australia to take the weather segment to the road and do it at different locations. Up until then, the weather broadcasts were just done by a guy in a suit in a studio.

I did crosses from Lake Burley Griffin, The Lodge and Bruce Stadium. When the Raiders were playing, I’d present at the stadium and interview Mal Meninga, Bradley Clyde, Gary Belcher and other stars, or get them to come and do a cameo. I once got Laurie Daley to interrupt me during a live segment and give me tickets.

Were you really that famous in town?

In 1989, I was voted Canberra Personality of the Year. They came up with the ad when I was the weatherman – ‘Mike said it would be like this’.

Capital was the only commercial station, everyone watched it, it was their golden era. More than half of Canberra’s population watched it. You’d walk around town and everyone would know you.

I loved Canberra. I got married in 1993 to a local girl, Kathy, and we bought our forever home in Gungahlin. I thought I’d stay in Canberra forever.

So why did you move to Melbourne?

When Prime and WIN came to Canberra and were allowed to broadcast their station here, Prime then tried to poach the Capital news team. They bought Geoff Hiscock and a lot of their big names. There were all these secret meetings. I was approached and the last that was supposed to be going across.

When the CEO of Capital Television found out, he initiated court action to stop me from leaving. It was settled out of court and I ended up staying at Capital.

The head of news in Sydney got wind of this fight over me. They flew me up for a meeting and offered me a job there. But Capital wouldn’t let me go, so they went with a local, Tim Bailey.

A few months later, a role came up in Melbourne. The new CEO let me go, as long as I found someone to replace me. I knew the weekend Prime weather presenter Greg Hughes, got him to replace me and the management let me go. As a thank you, they advertised my house in Gungahlin for sale for free when I moved to Melbourne.

I became the weatherman in Melbourne, stayed there for 25 years, and became a bit of a Mr Melbourne.

How did such a dream run end?

As soon as COVID hit, our ratings dropped, free-to-air TV was declining, everyone was watching Netflix.

I was walking on the beach with my dog one morning when I received a call from the head of news and current affairs. He told me things were changing, that in a month’s time we’ll be doing a national weather broadcast from Sydney and we don’t need your services anymore. About 80 of us were made redundant.

I asked, “Well, should I come in tonight?” He said, “That’s up to you”. I went to work, and on air, I introduced the weather by saying, “It’s been a very challenging day, but at least the sun is shining”.

They ended up calling me back three months later but I didn’t stay for long, morale was low. TV is brutal. It’s not as much fun. The stations are run by accountants, not TV people. It’s just a numbers game now.

Why the move to being a wedding celebrant?

I was doing a lot of work as an MC at weddings. I saw a gap in the market for a good celebrant, so I took a course in that. I originally thought it was something I’d do on the side.

The first wedding I was a celebrant for was for the winners of a radio competition – Mick Molloy’s shotgun wedding on the rooftop at Triple M, live on radio. Eddie McGuire was the best man and Derryn Hinch was the ring bearer. I got a lot of free publicity out of that. I started getting more and more requests, and suddenly, I was knocking back offers left, right and centre and became a full-time celebrant.

Life is good now?

It’s great. I’ve really been blessed throughout my career. I’m enjoying life in Melbourne with my wife, Kathy, and two kids, Grace, 22, and Adam, 21, who are both at university.

People often ask if I miss TV. I say, “I miss it for what it used to be, but I don’t miss it for what it is now”.