Krystal & chips, you've reminded me of the joys of the external gust locks!
One lever in the cockpit, to put the (internal) gust lock in place. The book said it's good up to a 50kt (iirc) wind, except that any breeze more forceful than a gnats f@rt would cause the elevator and rudder to flap around like a parrot with mustard up its... nose. Needless to say, not good for the control surfaces or anything connected to them, and after having an aircraft need a rudder change, the rule came down from on high - "put the external gust locks in after each flight".
So picture the scene. It's 6.30am in Guernsey. It's still dark, because it's winter. It's raining sideways with a force that you only get from being at the highest point on a lump of rock at the end of a funnel leading from the North Atlantic to the channel. Just got to put the gust locks in, then go home.
The £12.99 B&Q step ladders come out, assembled in accordance with the 45 minute course we'd been on ("elf an safetee") and clamber up, rudder lock in hand, to be nearly decapitated by a rudder jibing to and fro. Grabbing hold of the bottom, I finally get what Mr Bowden was saying all those years ago in physics, Force really does equal mass times acceleration, and this force nearly threw me into the sea.
"I'll go into the cockpit, and try to hold the rudder pedals steady" said the captain, running away before his coat got wet. Rank has it's privilege I suppose, and this almost did the trick, except the skippers idea of central was about 6" off central - might explain his crosswind technique! Anyway, after much shouting, wiggling and swearing, I bravely forced the gust lock home, revealing any number of defunct airlines logos beneath the paint scratched off. Slung the ladders into the now empty cargo hold, and off to the hotel we went.
Living the dream.