The old (er) days of Airline flying in Aust

[sru]

Hi all,

Love to see posts here of the experiences and stories of the old (er) days of airline flying in Australia. EWA, TAA, AN, QF etc.

What it was like and what we got from it. Funny stories, people, places and how it influenced us.

Ill kick off in the next post.

Cheers

SRU

[sru]

Learning to fly East West style – a very young and green SRU:

F-27 Melbourne – Devonport, ferry to Hobart empty (two Cabin crew lovelies) for freight to Melbourne.

Into DPO via a DME arrival. Right on the minima, poring rain and blowing a good 40kts from the north. On Finals looking out the side window, (30 odd degrees of drift) to align on the centre line bumpy as all s**t. Full rudder and aileron deflections (two handed job!). A lot of pushing and pulling. We flared and touched down … nice. Dam how do I let go and select Ground Idle….. Capt can you do that …. Cheers, all good.

Now we have the minor discussion of who is going to the fuel drain after the refuel. Well it wasn’t a discussion, SRU your it; I’m staying here, good luck. No worries I say.

Well it was still raining horizontal, and trying to locate the underwing fuel drain with a 12 foot odd pipe wavering around in the wind, whilst trying to keep the water out of the jar, was to say challenging. Man I was wet at the end of it!

Back into the cockpit, mate you’re not coming in here like that all dripping wet, ring your bloody clothes out! Sh1T I think, ok, stripping off in the fwd cargo area, pools of water every where.

Head round the corner. Hey Mate, you can hang em on the air vents if you want and they will be dry by the time we get to Hobart! What about the FA’s I say. No worries we just won’t have coffee this sector. Cool I think.

So there I am, established in the cruise, in my jocks, in the RH seat, clothes strung everywhere.

Well I guess it gets a bit boring in the back with no passengers. Before long both the lovelies come up for a bit of a chat. I don’t know who was more embarrassed me sitting in my jocks or them trying to work out what was going on!

[Che cows with guns]

Nice one sru.
Nowadays that would be classed as bad CRM. The Skipper would be called before the Fleet Captain and Manager of Flight Ops and given a warning. You would have had a sexual harassment charged levelled against you and been suspended with no pay for two weeks. "The Lovelies" would be off on four weeks stress leave and given counselling. Or maybe the video of you in your undies shot on the mobile phone would have ended up on u tube or somewhere equally as disgusting
This would have been debated on PPRune ad nauseam for weeks and would have eventually degenerated into a slanging match on terms and conditions.
But we really should cherish the good old days as these will be the good old days in years to come.
Personally I miss Flight Service offices and the happy chaps that manned them. I guess there would have been one of them at DVO. You would have been able to have a chat, a coffee, get a weather update, find out who's up who and who is not paying etc etc. Maybe even get some dry strides.
Playing tricks on offsiders on night freight was my favourite. I still do it so don't want to give away too many secrets.
Keep the stories rolling

Che
Still fighting for Bovine freedom
and holding my large head high.

[Fantome]

So there I am, established in the cruise, in my jocks . . .

In the fifties there was a renegade F/O with Charlie Q on the 1049s. His initials were TAL. He was handed his salad lunch on a plastic plate. He then cut a two inch hole in that plate, having eaten the meat that was on it. He put the plate on his lap and through the hole inserted meat of another variety which he covered with lettuce. He rang the galley and told the hostie that he could see no meat with his salad. Hang on she said, I'll be there in a minute. Upon her entrance the gross young man said sorry I bothered you, see, there is some meat here, under the lettuce. True!

[sixtiesrelic]

‘Twas thirty seven years ago…
DC-3 freighter… somewhere over New Guinea, ‘bout four or five hours into duty time.
Crew ….tired after an exuberant late overnight of drinkin’ Rhum Negritas with the Fokker crew.
Droning along at nine thousand, above the scattered cloud, sun streaming in to warm up the unheated cockpit ; weariness descends.
F.O. right hand hooked up into the right hand cockpit escape lid handle while left hand is resting on top of the Captain’s seat back, nods off and droops a bit leftwards.
Captain slumped back in his seat, drifts off and slowly sags right.
Auto pilot, a goodie, makes gentle corrections.
F.O; recently engaged to a southern hostie, contentedly fantasizes.
Captain’s head gets right over to and touches F.O’s shoulder.
F.O’s left arm slides round lady love’s left shoulder and gives her a loving squeeze.
Both regain consciousness and remain alertly awake for the rest of the flight and embarrassedly, NEVER mention or discuss it.
Now see how good these days are compared to the olden days.
Big wide cockpits.
No Pratt’s droning at a soporific 2050 RPM.
Drug testing ensures that crews go to bed early and stop drinking eight hours before flight and P00fs are ok… it’s natural, and we have nothing to feel uncomfortable about.