What a shame...there was a time not so long ago that Lae was a great spot to live...ok it was nearly 20 years ago when I lived there
When we first moved operations from Lae to NZ (a
VERY sad day
) we used to get sick of waiting for the crew bus in the afternoon...the driva bois were inevitably late...probably using the company buses as PMVs to make a few kina on the side...anyway someone discovered that the rental car companies needed cars delivered back into town
Us Talair pilots, being civic minded fellows, offered to help them out
In very short order, being a naturally competitive bunch, there ensued a 'time trial' over the distance between the airport turnoff and Marty's dad's house opposite the Golf Club...40 something kms.
My personal best was 17.5 minutes if memory serves but that time was beaten by someone...probably Marty who set the first record in his father's Range Rover, with 4 or 5 of us on board, at around 19 or 20 minutes from memory.
There were of course close calls and at least one minor accident...but you get that in any great undertaking. I remember a 'trophy picture' of PK sitting on the somewhat dented drivers side front quarter panel and a trip through a service station just outside town at approx 80-100kph with BJ when someone stepped out in front of us...we went right under the roof and out the other side in the blink of an eye
There was also a scientific study carried out by Muddy and Boffner into exactly how fast you needed to be travelling before the Hawkes, feeding on road kill, could not get out of your way and a successful bird strike was possible...cannot remember the spead but it was
way north of 100km/h
Then Mudgaurd bought one of those slingshots that are illegal...the ones with the forearm strap..and sniping became the game, small ball bearings being the projectile of choice.
As you can possibly imagine...we didn't have too many problems with rascals
Even in those far off halcyon days there were no go areas...the Botanical Gardens for instance...but in general we lived a very pleasant life with our young families.
The flying was second to none, the yachty our temple and most, if not all, the chinese restaurants let us back in again eventually after someones 'Otter Shout' or 'Bandit shout' led to a drunken food fight or to someone spraying mace into the aircon as we left...that was Marty too
You know life's good when the CP autographs his dent from putting the company Falcon station wagon in a rain barret driving home pissed in a tropical downpour