In the tourist joy flight area you do enjoy a lot of as above. Although I didn't meet him one of our drivers told me of one of his annual regulars and very nice old fella, the late 'Rumpole." Another told me of an old fella that had climbed Mt Sonder as a lad and just had to bring his old cronies back to enjoy it as the sun set over a splendid clear sky desert, complete with champers and the sound of the William Tell overture I think it was. poor pilot had lumped all this stereo stuff up there but of course enjoyed the result.
My personal favourite was the late Robert Holmes a Court, a very humorous man. As pilot you get to act as quasi sales agent often, so whilst waiting for the rest and at a cattle yard I summed up my spiel by turning to his son and saying, 'Young fella, cattle are a good investment cos while you're sleeping their growing'. Without a second to think ol'mate turned and said, "Yes ---- that's why our company opened an office in New York, Our company never sleeps."
I did get to fly a couple of nudies but not by design. Turned out they needed extracating from a contract yard builders site as they had demanded out. Yard builder had somehow pressganged them (a couple of reasonably well built tourists) into his employ. When they got there they discovered it was nude rules. OK but in November, very bloody hot days handling railway iron? All they had on that side of a flooded river when I arrived was a pair of gloves. Their car was near our headquarters. A half hour flight and I dropped them off at their car and was able to extend our hospitality for an overnight, good clean shower etc. I understood completely when as we left they threw their gloves on the ground.
Most notable pax of late was a twelve foot rock python. We had been having our usual late arvo tot when Mrs Tet, in excitable voice says, there's a snake between your legs. Casually as possible I glanced down and locked eye to eye with this very large headed snake. So as close to Chips Rafferty as possible I says, "G'day ol' fella, how're yer going?" Whereupon he quickly back tracked, but of course he had to be caught and shifted 'somewhere' quite a ways away didn't he? Which I did in an old mail bag and from the seat while perched on a bank of a large dam flung the mail bag outwards. Only problem was the end flapped over and ol'mate ended up nearly under the flying machine immediately contemplating it as, 'good cover'. This I observed as, "not good" and quickly buggered orf, whilst checking that he hadn't managed to get on board to check out such interesting things as the engine cooling fan.