TUG COMP........
Join Date: Oct 2000
Location: your worst nightmare
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Luca,
I've got a feeling GG's post was a bit tongue in cheek, Tulla Tarmac runs all day, every day, with free entry granted on the provision of a valid ASIC. Additional spectator-only seating is available at any Melbourne departure gate.
I've got a feeling GG's post was a bit tongue in cheek, Tulla Tarmac runs all day, every day, with free entry granted on the provision of a valid ASIC. Additional spectator-only seating is available at any Melbourne departure gate.
Yep - Tulla Tarmac operates 24hrs 7 days as a motorsport venue.
Best bets are on the Qantas porters, they are capable of a lot of damage if they put their mind to it.
Best was two chaps having a disagreement trying to settle it by crashing their respective pushback tugs head on into each other.
Best bets are on the Qantas porters, they are capable of a lot of damage if they put their mind to it.
Best was two chaps having a disagreement trying to settle it by crashing their respective pushback tugs head on into each other.
Join Date: Feb 2001
Location: short final 34L
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In my time working on the domestic tarmac at Sydney Airport, I was guilty of some fairly non-compliant tug time. Ahh the memories....
It was a great way to pass time between a/c movements, have some laughs and also sharpen your skills for when you had to drive these dinky pieces of crap in very poor wx with a 1.5 tonne GPU in tow, whilst trying to ensure all aircraft got away on time, everytime - something that was never really appreciated by the management (and some flightcrew) of **Z*L***
We initially had a tug with a Chevy donk in place with which from a standing start, you could easily get the front wheels off the ground - the fear was if you did it well enough, the tug may flip onto it's back - how the hell you could explain that one away was anyone's guess.
Any KD GSO's here? - do u guys still use the golf carts? They looked like fun to drive in the wet. Also have any of you 'cracked the tonne' in a company vehicle on a dark, quiet night on the tarmac? - it has been done.
By the way I must add that as far as I know during my time, all tug ops in proximity to a/c were done safely, mind you our illustrious leader was guilty of ploughing a tug into an a/c and causing considerable damage whilst travelling at approx 10kph! A great way to set the standard....
Hello to all El Rancho veterans.
It was a great way to pass time between a/c movements, have some laughs and also sharpen your skills for when you had to drive these dinky pieces of crap in very poor wx with a 1.5 tonne GPU in tow, whilst trying to ensure all aircraft got away on time, everytime - something that was never really appreciated by the management (and some flightcrew) of **Z*L***
We initially had a tug with a Chevy donk in place with which from a standing start, you could easily get the front wheels off the ground - the fear was if you did it well enough, the tug may flip onto it's back - how the hell you could explain that one away was anyone's guess.
Any KD GSO's here? - do u guys still use the golf carts? They looked like fun to drive in the wet. Also have any of you 'cracked the tonne' in a company vehicle on a dark, quiet night on the tarmac? - it has been done.
By the way I must add that as far as I know during my time, all tug ops in proximity to a/c were done safely, mind you our illustrious leader was guilty of ploughing a tug into an a/c and causing considerable damage whilst travelling at approx 10kph! A great way to set the standard....
Hello to all El Rancho veterans.
Join Date: Jan 2001
Location: Melbourne, Australia
Age: 40
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Ok, ok. Ive been had. All have a good laugh at my expense 
Its what you get for hanging round a grass strip where the local "tug" is whatever 4WD is in the car park
Its what you get for hanging round a grass strip where the local "tug" is whatever 4WD is in the car park
Bottums Up
In a past life I had the pleasure to work and share digs with Capt Crash. Every flight was full of laughs, we even did some serious flying.
For your edification I post an incident report he filed after damage to the aircraft at YSSY, parked at the AN finger.
For your edification I post an incident report he filed after damage to the aircraft at YSSY, parked at the AN finger.
INCIDENT REPORT
DATE: 13 MAY 1991
AIRCRAFT: VH-HKT
TYPE: ND26
CREW: CAPT. CRASH
F/O. ACE
F/A. GABONZAS
POSITION: ANSETT BAY 17D
FLIGHT: WX123
TIME: 1515
The morning was cold and dark. After an evening of restless sleep I awoke to the dulcet tones of the alarm. Initially feeling a little listless I decided to feel a large gabonza instead. This made no difference, the taste of stale beer and rum still in my mouth. My first thought was to throw-up, but no ! a sh!t first and then throw-up.
Breakfast was short and sweet, a pi** and a look about, then off to the place where the planes live.
Looking like a million dollars, embellished with gold-braid and wings, my knees started to buckle under the awesome weight of responsibility, I strode across the tarmac towards the mighty Nord, its wings spread, rising like a phoenix out of the sunrise.
After spending the next twenty minutes opening the door I knew it was going to be one of those days.
Stumbling along the dark aisle, I could see an eerie glow up ahead. I pulled the curtain open and there it was in all its glory.
I moved forward, suddenly a sharp pain shot up my right leg. The early morning silence cracked by the piercing scream "Fark" !! that bloody mongrel stick for the engine bungs. If I could just make it to the seat I knew I'd be OK.
There at last, better put on the seat belt and check the oxygen, about five minutes should be enough.
Without warning a loud bang and a thump, I was instantly alert. My senses taught, eyes scanning the dash of seemingly endless gauges and lights, poised ready to throw myself into the phase one's for anything. As it turned out no action was required, we'd landed at Sydney. The flight had been uneventful, or so the F/O said !!
Across the apron with the speed and lithe of three untamed gazelles, in search of a staff canteen and a life giving pie. Then back to the day plane for a nap.
I woke abruptly to the sound of thumping on the outside of the fuselage.
"Christ. This is it we're going in"
"Save yourselves"
"Mother I'm sorry for all those terrible things I said "
"But wait, what's that" out the window !!
It's the bloody fuel truck.
"do you blokes want fuel " ?
"NO – f**k off".
Obviously it was time to strap back into the seat at the sharpe end and hang on. Suddenly it was all happening. Passengers boarding, tarmac controllers with everything moving except their bowels, but where were the porters.
"Here they come"! Our first sighting was as they rounded the Ansett finger, bags slewing from the trolley across the tarmac in their wake.
They appeared to be approaching at rather a high speed prompting me to comment to the F/O,
"Fu@k! have a go at this arse-hole" !!
In a blur the tug disappeared down the left side of the aircraft. Seconds later an almighty metal twisting crash. "Christ, the pricks have hit us" exclaimed my ever alert F/O.
As it was p!ssing down in bucket fulls, I decided it would be more appropriate that I, as the Captain, complete the extremely complicated trim sheet while the F/O inspect the damage and report back to me.
"The whole thing's totally fu@ked !"
"Will it fly ?"
"She'll be right "
"OK, shut the door and let's p!ss off".
We broke clear of cloud climbing through flight level 110. There hanging in the sky, in front of us was the 'WESTERN STAR' .
At last, a bright shining light to help guide us through the blurred entanglement of bull**** we call aviation. Finally back on the ground, awaiting us a warm protective hug in the arms of one large polar bear.
Capt Crash
DATE: 13 MAY 1991
AIRCRAFT: VH-HKT
TYPE: ND26
CREW: CAPT. CRASH
F/O. ACE
F/A. GABONZAS
POSITION: ANSETT BAY 17D
FLIGHT: WX123
TIME: 1515
The morning was cold and dark. After an evening of restless sleep I awoke to the dulcet tones of the alarm. Initially feeling a little listless I decided to feel a large gabonza instead. This made no difference, the taste of stale beer and rum still in my mouth. My first thought was to throw-up, but no ! a sh!t first and then throw-up.
Breakfast was short and sweet, a pi** and a look about, then off to the place where the planes live.
Looking like a million dollars, embellished with gold-braid and wings, my knees started to buckle under the awesome weight of responsibility, I strode across the tarmac towards the mighty Nord, its wings spread, rising like a phoenix out of the sunrise.
After spending the next twenty minutes opening the door I knew it was going to be one of those days.
Stumbling along the dark aisle, I could see an eerie glow up ahead. I pulled the curtain open and there it was in all its glory.
I moved forward, suddenly a sharp pain shot up my right leg. The early morning silence cracked by the piercing scream "Fark" !! that bloody mongrel stick for the engine bungs. If I could just make it to the seat I knew I'd be OK.
There at last, better put on the seat belt and check the oxygen, about five minutes should be enough.
Without warning a loud bang and a thump, I was instantly alert. My senses taught, eyes scanning the dash of seemingly endless gauges and lights, poised ready to throw myself into the phase one's for anything. As it turned out no action was required, we'd landed at Sydney. The flight had been uneventful, or so the F/O said !!
Across the apron with the speed and lithe of three untamed gazelles, in search of a staff canteen and a life giving pie. Then back to the day plane for a nap.
I woke abruptly to the sound of thumping on the outside of the fuselage.
"Christ. This is it we're going in"
"Save yourselves"
"Mother I'm sorry for all those terrible things I said "
"But wait, what's that" out the window !!
It's the bloody fuel truck.
"do you blokes want fuel " ?
"NO – f**k off".
Obviously it was time to strap back into the seat at the sharpe end and hang on. Suddenly it was all happening. Passengers boarding, tarmac controllers with everything moving except their bowels, but where were the porters.
"Here they come"! Our first sighting was as they rounded the Ansett finger, bags slewing from the trolley across the tarmac in their wake.
They appeared to be approaching at rather a high speed prompting me to comment to the F/O,
"Fu@k! have a go at this arse-hole" !!
In a blur the tug disappeared down the left side of the aircraft. Seconds later an almighty metal twisting crash. "Christ, the pricks have hit us" exclaimed my ever alert F/O.
As it was p!ssing down in bucket fulls, I decided it would be more appropriate that I, as the Captain, complete the extremely complicated trim sheet while the F/O inspect the damage and report back to me.
"The whole thing's totally fu@ked !"
"Will it fly ?"
"She'll be right "
"OK, shut the door and let's p!ss off".
We broke clear of cloud climbing through flight level 110. There hanging in the sky, in front of us was the 'WESTERN STAR' .
At last, a bright shining light to help guide us through the blurred entanglement of bull**** we call aviation. Finally back on the ground, awaiting us a warm protective hug in the arms of one large polar bear.
Capt Crash
