Would have been around mid-winter in Port Hedland on the Pilbara coast of Western Australia, the year 1965. Overnighting in the Pier Hotel on the first floor with the door to my room opening onto the wide verandah. Round about sun-up, sixish, I was lying in bed listening to the sounds of another day stirring when the quickly increasing drone of a big aeroplane's engines had me leaping up and out to the verandah rail.
There in all it's gleaming polished bare metal finery was an MMA Dak coming down the street. Without a word of a lie, I looked down and saw the skipper glance out to the left in my direction.
After breakfast I went out to the airport to get my 182 ready for the day's work, first calling over to the MMA office to get the dope on what was afoot with the fly-by. "Oh you saw Freddy go by, did you? Said he'd say goodbye to Hedland properly. Last flight for the company. Retires today when he gets back to Perth. Bit ordinary he was till he got in his seat and fired her up. Had to get the steps for him. Little hook on ladder not negotiable. Hope he gets away with it. Great bloke, old Freddy Ashelford."
(Freddy couldn't have been too hard hit. He was flying for Phil Hick's outfit on the C206 not long after. First lighty after twenty plus years on Threes. First attempt at a crosswinder in the 206 he pegged it on DC-3 fashion. Prop-strike, shattered nosewheel spat, and a go round! The noise that prop with bent tips made as it went round the circuit at Jandakot, struth!)
Last edited by Fantome; 4th Mar 2008 at 20:16.