I started flying the S76 offshore in the North Sea in May 1980. It was a single pilot operation, the only limitation being that you added 200 ft. to your ILS decision height. Day, night, come Hell or high water you went. After one just made it to the coast short of fuel because a platform had refused him permission to top up with fuel did we change to two pilots on standard rig trips.
We had a secondary task known as the FART team. (Fast aircraft rescue team). This involved flying out with engineers and/or spares to rescue 332s so one had to fit a S76 onto a helideck beside the errant 332. Another was emergency oil tools to anywhere, anytime.
I was called for one in the late afternoon with the warning that I may have to night stop in Unst, which is as far north as you can go in the UK.. The cargo was a massive drill bit about two feet across. It arrived still glowing from the re-tempering so there was a delay whilst it cooled down sufficiently to be loaded without slowly cooking me. It was dark when I launched for the Murchison some 180 miles or so but the weather was going to be bright and moonlit all the way. There I was to unload, refuel if necessary and night stop at Unst. All went well and the tool was unloaded.
En route to Unst I spoke to Scottish Information who seemed a bit surprised that I was going to Unst. Because of the distance I lost contact with them and so I called up Unst; no answer. I tried the company at Unst; no answer. The island was painting nicely on the radar and it came into sight in the moonlight and in no time I was downwind in effective VMC in the full moon. I could see the runway and also the apron by the lights of the company hangar because the doors were open so I started an approach.
The air traffic controller lived over the road from the tower and he had heard me. Putting two and two together he hoofed over the the tower, switched everything on with the cry "aircraft on finals you are clear to land" I carried on and legally landed.
I positioned the helicopter outside the hangar, shut it down, chocked it and went into the hangar. In the office was the night shift having tea and butties for their break. The ripple of jaws hitting the floor was a sound to behold. They thought, having not heard a S76 before, that I was a late Dash 7 landing.
I shacked up in the Baltasound hotel and next morning flew back to Aberdeen where the crap had hit the fan. The Aberdeen controller, as they found out when somebody had enquired as to why I had not been booked in with Unst, had a severe alcohol problem and had completely forgotten about me when I took off.
He was reassigned for a short time before he left the company's employ. We carried on flying single pilot until about January 1983 before two pilots, with a bit of resistance, was imposed.
Last edited by Fareastdriver; 31st May 2021 at 10:25.