Sir Peter Blake's killer gives his first interview to New Zealand media.

The muscle-bound murderer appears all of a sudden, instantly recognisable from the mugshot pictures taken more than a decade ago.

Ricardo Colares Tavares was a ruggedly handsome man with well-kept hair, someone who wouldn't look out of place as the edgy guy in a boy band line up.

But the ravages of drugs and life inside Brazil's notorious prison system have not been kind.

SUPPLIED Ricardo Colares Tavares in his prison mugshot.

Sixteen years after he shot and killed a New Zealand national hero, Tavares, now aged 38, is bald, with greying hair and stubble, his olive-coloured skin tanned dark as he greets us in an administration block at the Instituto de Administracao Penitenciaria do Amapa prison (IAPEN), some 2700km from Rio de Janeiro.

READ MORE:

* Crowds welcome Sir Peter's schooner home

* The day a mighty legend was felled

* A decade without Sir Peter Blake

* Dennis Conner cheering for Team NZ

"I'm sorry," he says when asked if he has a message for Blake's family.

RICHARD COSGROVE/STUFF Sir Peter Blake and Sir Russell Coutts are welcomed home in Christchurch in 1995.

"There is nothing else I can say."

On December 5, 2001, Tavares and his gang of water-borne thugs boarded Sir Peter Blake's research boat, the Seamaster.

Their worlds collided with deadly consequences as Blake was shot twice in the back while trying to fight back against the seven pirates.

NIGEL MARPLE/REUTERS Blake takes media for a spin on the Hauraki Gulf with the Team New Zealand boat NZL 60 in the background.

While Blake's legacy has grown through the youth leadership trust that bears his name and New Zealand's renewed love affair with the America's Cup, Tavares' life of crime and drug addiction has continued to plumb new depths, even behind bars.

Initially sentenced to 36 years in prison, Tavares has tried to dig and blow his way out of prison in two escape attempts, and committed armed robbery while on day release.

His lengthy rap sheet shows a man who showed the same disregard for authority inside prison as he did as a young, drugged-up desperado robbing boats on the Amazon River to fund his habit.

REUTERS Brazilian police parade seven suspects arrested for the murder of Sir Peter Blake. Tavares is second from the right.

In what he claims to be his first at-length interview with foreign media, Tavares says he has lingering regrets about killing the man who, to him, was just another wealthy tourist.

"It wasn't the end that I planned, but it happened, and I'm here doing my time."

'I WAS EXPLOITED'

REUTERS Inmates throw projectiles during an uprising at Alcacuz prison in Natal, Rio Grande do Norte state in 2017. Brazil incarcerates 650,000 people, the world's fourth-highest prison population.

The prison is located in Macapa city, where the mighty Amazon River reaches the Atlantic Ocean. It's about a 40-minute drive from the city of Santana where Tavares grew up in a well-to-do Catholic family and a short distance from where Blake was murdered.

Many associate Brazil with postcard images of pristine beaches, the lush Amazon jungle, the world's most successful football squad and a carefree approach to life.

But it's also one of the world's most violent countries where inequality, corruption and impunity reign.

SUPPLIED Blake and crew aboard the Seamaster.

Brazil's annual murder rate has reached 60,000, as organised crime and narco-trafficking gangs have waged an increasingly high-tech war against trigger-happy police forces.

Tales of rocket-propelled grenades fired from gang-controlled favellas (shantytowns) shooting down police helicopters are not uncommon.

So it's no coincidence that Brazil has the fourth-highest prison population in the world, the vast majority being poor young black men with little education, around 40 per cent of whom are awaiting trial in overcrowded cells, often run by organised crime gangs.

STUFF A single red sock outside the Team New Zealand compound in Auckland after Blake was killed in 2001.

In January this year, at least 120 prisoners were killed in a series of bloody prison uprisings directly linked to an ongoing drug war on the outside. Most of the bodies were decapitated, burned or dismembered.

In spite of this, the country's tourism industry is booming, and the more than six million annual visitors are rarely caught up in the most extreme violence.

With these numbers ringing in my ears, I walk through the concrete administrative block at the IAPEN prison under the blazing hot Amazonian sun. Thankfully IAPEN is run by the state and not at the mercy of the extreme violence seen in federal prisons.

REUTERS The police lineup of the men suspected of killing Blake. Tavares is third from the right.

It's taken months to secure the interview with Tavares, having crossed several bureaucratic hurdles and then persuading Tavares to talk over a series of emails.

Entering the prison, our bags are passed through scanners and we walk through metal detectors. We are also asked to show the make and model of our mobile phones which are noted by the security staff armed with handguns.

With my Brazilian fixer, we wander past a group of guards who are sitting in the shade, making chit chat, idly thumbing their smartphones.

BLAKE SELL/REUTERS Blake holds the America's Cup aloft after Team New Zealand's victory against the Dennis Connor-led US team in San Diego in 1995.

A few prisoners on work duty, wearing flip-flops, shorts and t-shirts, eye us suspiciously.

We are led into an office and told to wait.

One of the senior prison officers, a tall well-built man with an automatic pistol who is accompanying us during our visit, says we can't stay too long as he has a meeting to go to to address a series of murders and other crimes in the city, apparently being ordered by prison inmates - including, he says, the targeting of corrections staff.

SUPPLIED Prime Minister Helen Clark with Blake on the Rio Negro, part of the Amazon river system in Brazil, during the Seamaster's trip there in 2001.

Tavares walks in and greets us warmly using the formal Portuguese for sir (senhor) and miss (senhora). Polite and charming, he thanks us for coming.

In the relaxed setting of the prison's administrative block, there are no bars or chains, just us tucked away in an office.

Aside from the infamy that Blake's murder brought him, Tavares is definitely not your average Brazilian prisoner.

The Seamaster was boarded by pirates on the night Blake was shot dead.

He comes from an upper middle class business-owning family that even has a street named after them in their town.

He's in good physical shape, wearing bright new sandals, a t-shirt and shorts, and looks to be keeping fit in the prison gym.

But his face betrays years of drug taking and tough prison life.

REUTERS Inmates walk past a gauntlet of riot police after a prison riot in Carandiru prison in Sao Paulo, Brazil.

"My reason for entering the world of crime wasn't financial, it was something different," he says mysteriously.

"I turned down the BBC, Discovery Channel."

Tavares sits on a chair next to me answering questions, but he clearly wants to control the situation. He jumps back and forth between subjects and rarely responds to questions directly. At times, he is hard to follow. The whole time, it feels like he is holding back.

PAULO SANTOS Young Brazilian boys play "futelama" or mud soccer, on tidal flats near the mouth of the Amazon River in Macapa, Amapa state. The postcard image of Brazil is a far cry from the crime-ridden reality.

"It hasn't got any easier," he says of his time in prison. "The same danger that I faced then, I face today."

​When the prison officer leaves, Tavares feels more relaxed to speak his mind. At no point do I feel threatened or worried, even when I lent him a pen. I wasn't nervous, despite being trapped in such a confined space with no guard.

While he accepts his crime, and indeed seems to show remorse, he claims to have been a victim of a sensationalist press coverage, as well as some unfair treatment from the police, and says he never got to tell his side of the story.

REUTERS Peter Blake sups from the cup after defeating New Zealand swept Conner's team in five straight races, which at the time was the American's second loss in the cup's history.

He says his family had been hounded by the Brazilian press.

"I was exploited, my family was exploited by a sensationalist press that didn't have ethics, even in here, in prison, we have ethics that we follow."

Tavares' family were contacted for this article but say they prefer not to comment, saying that their son was treated like a "psychopath".

BLAKE SELL/REUTERS Blake in January 1995.

They have maintained he was unfairly treated and that of the seven accomplices that entered Blake's boat that night, only Ricardo remains in prison until this day.

His one and only interaction with New Zealand media came in February 2002 when he demanded $1000 for an interview.

No payment was made for this interview.

GETTY IMAGES Blake looks at the battered and misshapen trophy after it was attacked by Maori activist Benjamin Nathan with a hammer in 1997.

He is coy with information, not wanting to let too much on, he says, because of lack of trust.

"I'm willing to talk, I'm willing to talk about what happened, but I won't reveal all in the first contact," he says.

"Lots of things happened at that time weren't taken into account and weren't allowed to be said, I didn't get the chance."

STUFF Blake signs autographs in Wellington's Civic Square after Team New Zealand retained the America's Cup parade in 2000.

'HIS DEATH WAS UNTHINKABLE'

Having conquered the America's Cup, become the king of the round-the-world yachting scene and won over the hearts of many New Zealanders with his colourful choice of socks, Blake had been in search of new horizons when he headed to the Amazon with Blakexpeditions.

He gathered a band of researchers, journalists and even Prime Minister Helen Clark to explore the vast stretches of the Amazon River seeking adventure in one of the last unexplored parts of the world.

IAN WALDIE/REUTERS Blake's widow Lady Pippa and her children James and Sarah-Jane arrive for the funeral.

While docked in Macapa, capital city of Amapa state, "pirates" invaded his boat, the Seamaster.

The armed robbers collected money and personal belongings from the nine people aboard, including members of Blake's family.

Blake shot at one with a rifle, injuring his hand, but the rifle then malfunctioned; he was then shot in the back.

IAN WALDIE/REUTERS Pallbearers carry Blake's coffin in England in December 2001.

The 53-year-old sailor was killed by two shots to the back which caused internal bleeding. He died while being cradled by friends.

A national outpouring of grief followed. In a eulogy delivered at his funeral in Southampton, England, Prime Minister Helen Clark said: "Our small nation went into shock. Peter Blake was a living legend. As an outstanding sailor, he had brought great honour and fame to New Zealand. His death was unthinkable."

Of the seven who were convicted of Blake's killing, only Tavares remains in prison. At the time of his arrest, his family said his confession was obtained under torture and that he was beaten up, something local security officials deny. Tavares refuses to comment on the subject.

IAN WALDIE/REUTERS Helen Clark gave a eulogy at Sir Peter Blake's funeral at St Thomas a Becket Church in Warblington, England, on December 14, 2001. "As an outstanding sailor, he had brought great honour and fame to New Zealand. His death was unthinkable," she said.

'WE SAW NOTHING'

Despite being from a wealthy Catholic family, Tavares dropped out of school at a young age.

His family sought help for his drug habit at the age of 16 by sending him to a rehabilitation clinic on the other side of the country in the state of Minas Gerais. The next year, having not finished treatment, he left the clinic.

STUFF A tickertape parade along Lambton Quay in Wellington in 2000 celebrates the victorious Team New Zealand.

Thousands of kilometres from home, he stayed on in the region, fell in with a bad crowd and began offending to support his drug habit.

One of his friends from the time, Ricardo Donizete Ordones Mesquita, went on to kill two students.

In 1999, Tavares returned to the clinic but was arrested three days later and sent back to Macapa where, after serving a little time, he remained on parole until the murder.

GETTY IMAGES The majority of Brazil's prisoners are poor young black men with little education, around 40 per cent of whom are awaiting trial in overcrowded cells, often run by organised crime gangs.

After Blake's murder, Tavares was rounded up almost immediately and, after being paraded before the cameras, was locked up in the jail which still holds him.

In June 2002, he was sentenced to 36 years in prison, while his accomplices received sentences of up to 26 years.

Later that year, Tavares tried to escape for the first time. Prison authorities discovered a hole had been dug into the floor of his cell, and he was transferred to a federal prison in Acre state, scene of some of the worst violence in the uprisings earlier this year.

REUTERS Blake in front of the NZL 60 boat that swept the Italian challengers five nil in the 2000 America's Cup.

Perhaps through family connections, Tavares was transferred back to a prison in the coastal city of Maceio, and then back to the relative comfort and safety of IAPEN prison in Amapa.

In October 2005, Tavares made a second escape attempt when he and a group of other prisoners on his wing used explosives to blow a hole in the prison wall.

An official report, obtained by Stuff, describes prison guards coming across the aftermath of the explosion. They found an exterior wall had been damaged but it hadn't managed to blow a hole large enough for the prisoners to pass through.

The prisoners interviewed by prison authorities said: "We saw nothing, much less heard any noise". Tavares was identified as a key player in the attempted escape and given 20 days in solitary confinement and had his sentence lengthened.

After a few years of good behaviour, Tavares was allowed out of jail on day release to work. Soon enough, he committed a robbery and was sentenced to further jail time. He told a court he was high at the time.

These days, Tavares' prison work duty is cleaning the corridors. He says that he likes to read and prefers the classics – like The Little Prince and The Hunchback of Notre Dame – as well as self-help books.

Asked about the killing, he says: "I regret it very much, it wasn't my intention.

"It was other factors that took me that day," he adds, perhaps referring to peer pressure from the gang, a desire for some kind of excitement or easy money.

"I don't know who will receive this message, but I don't have anything else to ask, except my forgiveness. It wasn't the end that I planned, but it happened, and I'm here doing my time.

"There were so many losses during this time, and these losses we don't get back from one day to another."

Tavares is highly critical of Brazilian prisons, which are usually run by organised crime groups who control drug trafficking and from inside the cells using mobile phones.

Use of phones is extremely common, even for prisoners not convicted of serious crimes. In Brazil, there is little separation of prisoners, meaning that petty thieves or drug addicts are thrown in with hardened killers and gang members, which critics say leaves little room for rehabilitation.

"Lots of people here in this system, they want and need change, but so much about the management prevents this, because the system is more about repression and oppression than rehabilitation," he says, adding that diseases like tuberculosis are common.

"The human side is forgotten, lots of people here could be rescued."

Providing there are no more escape attempts, Tavares is scheduled to be released in 2023 and wants to go back to studying, he says. He plans to live with his family; he has a 14-year-old daughter and regrets that he missed such a huge part of her life.

He has started writing already in order to tell his side of the story, and says he wants to publish his account when he is released.

"It will have a lot to reveal," he says.

As the prison officer comes to inform us that our time is over, Tavares asks for my notebook.

"I had this other journalist contact me recently," he says. "Let me write his name for you."

He opens the notepad and scribbles a phone number inside. "Do you know him?" he says, smiling, as the guard stands across the room.

Tavares shakes hands and thanks us and the guard as he leaves the office and walks back into the prison.