and I have been around the aviation business for something over 50 years, including the Sydney "college of Knowledge" courses in my early days.
"Le College of Knowledge" Oh boy - does that take me back in time. Although I was in the RAAF in the early Fifties, I decided that in view of my four-engine time, Qantas would welcome me with open arms. But in those days Qantas pilots had to have a Flight Navigator Licence. I don't know why since in those days proper flight navigators were carried (you know the half-wing variety). The Sydney based College of Knowledge, as it was universally known, (and I forget its true name anyway) published correspondence courses for the Flight Navigators Licence. For a sum of course.
So I signed up for the Navigators course which even in those days was bloody expensive. I vaguely recall there were fifty lessons, all of which had to be completed and sent back to Sydney for marking. The first few lessons concentrated on revision of High School standard of maths and physics. Maths and Physics rated alongside Latin as my most hated school subjects and I swear I still have the cane marks on my bum to prove it.
I opened the first page and within a few minutes decided I could never ever be a navigator. My education was sadly lacking and I never got beyond Intermediate Certificate. That was Fourth Form in High School.
I pleaded with the C of K for my money back and was told to go away - in a kindly manner you understand.
I think it was about Fifty pounds sterling which was a fair sum of money in those days. I consigned every one of those red covered folders to the tip. There was no Ebay then.
And of course I never got into Qantas.
So I stayed in the RAAF and on the aircraft I flew as a lowly Sergeant Pilot, we had a real half-wing navigators down the back of the Lincoln, often sporting the gold eagle badge of a wartime Pathfinder navigator on his battle jacket. No shortage of the DFC on many of these chaps, too. As pilots we simply flew headings as ordered by the Nav and never dreamed of questioning his directions. The trouble was some of these Navs were former scrubbed pilots and most were old blokes of 30 who had been severely shot at over Europe.
Nowadays, they would be labelled as grumpy old men especially when they got real shirty if you practiced cloud flying in thunderstorms while they were in the astrodome trying to obtain Sun or Star shots with their sextants.
