Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II
Danny
Reminds me of the story of the boss of one of the big shampoo makers in the 1960’s whose prime hair shampoo product was egg shampoo to supposedly make the ladies hair gleam, or so it was claimed. Anyway he visited his shampoo manufacturing plant and ceremoniously broke a single egg into a massive 1000-gall vat of shampoo.
Reason was to ensure his company could claim that his money-making egg-shampoo met its claims that it was “Egg Shampoo”.
Don’t think he would get away with it now!
I have long suspected that most branded shampoos were just TeePol plus a bit of cheap perfume (just as most aftershaves are surgical spirit plus same).
Reason was to ensure his company could claim that his money-making egg-shampoo met its claims that it was “Egg Shampoo”.
Don’t think he would get away with it now!
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Danny,
Mossie nets - ah! Luxury!
It was standard procedure to leave the metal bedframes out in the Egyptian sun for a few hours; this, allegedly, removed them from their hiding places.
VM
Mossie nets - ah! Luxury!
It was standard procedure to leave the metal bedframes out in the Egyptian sun for a few hours; this, allegedly, removed them from their hiding places.
VM
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Smudge (#7195),
Have just finished it on daughter's Kindle. A great read - follows closely his account on this Thread, but of course his Posts of the Hi-jack drama have for obvious reasons been taken down.
He was an Arnold (USAAC) School student in the first RAF entry (July'42), Class 42A, so he met the "hazing" experience (from the preceding American Class of "Kay-Dets) head on. Said it was the finest flying training in the world.
I came in two months later as Class 42C in September, and as 42B were RAF, "hazing" was a thing of the past. As to being the finest flying training, although with three types and 200 hours (60 more than the Empire Air Training Schools), when we returned to UK for AFS and OTU, no difference in ability seemed to have been found: all of us were reckoned to be of much the same standard, wherever we'd been trained.
Warmtoast (#7201),
There was an unexpected choice bit of comedy many years ago. On commercial TV advts, a (nameless) Shampoo firm had for its single model a girl who dutifully extolled their jollop and praised it to high heaven.
Having (presumably) snagged her millionaire, she gave up the job, and was found by some TV roving reporter. "Oh", she chuckled, "Actually, I just use any old stuff on my hair that I can find !"
Somehow I don't think she's on any model agency's books now.
Hempy (#7200),
Certainly they bombed, but don't think they would have fired many shots in anger (the front [0.300] guns were useless, the rears [provided they'd swopped the 0.300s for 0.303s] might have been fired by the back seat man at some opportunity target on pull-out. But the general idea at that point was to get down among the treetops ASAP, and then get the Hell out of it !
ValMORNA (#7202),
We'd have gladly given up our Mossie nets in an exchange for a mossie-free environment!
Cheers to all, Danny.
Have just finished it on daughter's Kindle. A great read - follows closely his account on this Thread, but of course his Posts of the Hi-jack drama have for obvious reasons been taken down.
He was an Arnold (USAAC) School student in the first RAF entry (July'42), Class 42A, so he met the "hazing" experience (from the preceding American Class of "Kay-Dets) head on. Said it was the finest flying training in the world.
I came in two months later as Class 42C in September, and as 42B were RAF, "hazing" was a thing of the past. As to being the finest flying training, although with three types and 200 hours (60 more than the Empire Air Training Schools), when we returned to UK for AFS and OTU, no difference in ability seemed to have been found: all of us were reckoned to be of much the same standard, wherever we'd been trained.
Warmtoast (#7201),
There was an unexpected choice bit of comedy many years ago. On commercial TV advts, a (nameless) Shampoo firm had for its single model a girl who dutifully extolled their jollop and praised it to high heaven.
Having (presumably) snagged her millionaire, she gave up the job, and was found by some TV roving reporter. "Oh", she chuckled, "Actually, I just use any old stuff on my hair that I can find !"
Somehow I don't think she's on any model agency's books now.
Hempy (#7200),
Certainly they bombed, but don't think they would have fired many shots in anger (the front [0.300] guns were useless, the rears [provided they'd swopped the 0.300s for 0.303s] might have been fired by the back seat man at some opportunity target on pull-out. But the general idea at that point was to get down among the treetops ASAP, and then get the Hell out of it !
ValMORNA (#7202),
We'd have gladly given up our Mossie nets in an exchange for a mossie-free environment!
Cheers to all, Danny.
There was coming a time when my career in China was coming to a close because of my age. I was going to retire at the designated point from the company but as they were strapped for pilots with experience in China I continued flying with them as a contract pilot. My official job specification was as a ‘Casual Pilot’.
After all those years I’d been rumbled.
I was there on an ‘as required’ basis and I kept going all through the year but in February I was not required for a few months. However, the Australian arm of the company did, so I flew out to Darwin on the same contract basis. There was only one exploration rig to service some 265 n.m. out. The onshore diversion was in Indonesia; a small airstrip where you flew around in a circle until some minion came out and unlocked the shed where there were some barrels of JP1. This was the reason why you also carried a portable fuel pump. One wasn’t rushed off their feet; I did three trips in ten days, and there wasn’t any standby requirement. The operation had satellite tracking of the aircraft so it’s position was always known and one could leave the rest to the considerable Australian naval forces in that part of the world.
The Northern Territory and Western Australia were heavily involved during the War and there were still plenty of traces lying around which would keep one occupied during the time off. This was suddenly amplified when the aircraft had undemanded floatation equipment inflation on approach to the rig with the other crew. On return it required a new float bottle and these were unavailable in the Southern Hemisphere owing to lack of demand. Owing to the delay the rig operator moved their rig offshore Western Australia and the operation moved States with it. I didn’t take it to its new base, that was going to be a detachment from Darwin as a new aircraft was coming out from Aberdeen. That meant that until it arrived or I went down to the new base at Kununarra I had nothing to do, a car plus fuel at my disposal, and I was getting paid for it!
Darwin suffered, for Australia, heavy bombing by the Japanese. There were still some of the old fortifications and a trip down the tunnel near the docks was a must. The Stuart Highway, the north/south road that spears through the Territory to South Australia had the remains of airstrips beside it and on many there were displays with a short history and sometimes old photographs of the aircraft that operated from there. One day I took a trip down so a place by the Adelaide River where one could go on a boat trip and observe ‘Jumping Crocodiles. This is where the commentator drones on about the untameable crocs dating from the time of the dinosaurs and you look over you shoulder and there is the ruler straight wake of the local performing crocodile coming for lunch.
Fast forward a few years. Back in Zimbabwe after an absence from Rhodesia of a few years. Similar boat, similar drone; this time it's a Zambezi crocodile creating the self same dead straight wake for his lunch.
The dinosaurs must have done it too; jumping out of the water to snatch a pigs head off a piece of string.
Coming back I decided to try the old Stuart Highway. This was the old winding road that had a few surprises, like trees lying so low across the road that the leaves brush the roof. I breasted a hill and there was a police Ute (Utility/pickup) parked across the road with two cops fast asleep in it. They woke up and pulled out a breathalyser; it was a random breath check???? I blew into the machine and asked them if they had had any trade. No, they said, they weren’t even expecting me. The check point was probably where the dart at landed.
Shortly afterwards I came across a fairly large airstrip. There were the remains of a tarmac runway with dispersals in the trees and even an old sandbagged machine gun position. A notice board had pictures that showed it to be a B26 base that flew empty to Darwin, loaded up with ordinance and then unloaded it on the Japanese. I had no idea of the take-off performance of the B26 but I would have thought that with the space available departing virtually empty would have been a good idea. The site spread across the Highway and the remains of a traffic control shed where the chief who supervised the mingling of taxiing aircraft and loaded lorries plied his trade.
A couple of days later I was detailed to proceed to Kununarra.
After all those years I’d been rumbled.
I was there on an ‘as required’ basis and I kept going all through the year but in February I was not required for a few months. However, the Australian arm of the company did, so I flew out to Darwin on the same contract basis. There was only one exploration rig to service some 265 n.m. out. The onshore diversion was in Indonesia; a small airstrip where you flew around in a circle until some minion came out and unlocked the shed where there were some barrels of JP1. This was the reason why you also carried a portable fuel pump. One wasn’t rushed off their feet; I did three trips in ten days, and there wasn’t any standby requirement. The operation had satellite tracking of the aircraft so it’s position was always known and one could leave the rest to the considerable Australian naval forces in that part of the world.
The Northern Territory and Western Australia were heavily involved during the War and there were still plenty of traces lying around which would keep one occupied during the time off. This was suddenly amplified when the aircraft had undemanded floatation equipment inflation on approach to the rig with the other crew. On return it required a new float bottle and these were unavailable in the Southern Hemisphere owing to lack of demand. Owing to the delay the rig operator moved their rig offshore Western Australia and the operation moved States with it. I didn’t take it to its new base, that was going to be a detachment from Darwin as a new aircraft was coming out from Aberdeen. That meant that until it arrived or I went down to the new base at Kununarra I had nothing to do, a car plus fuel at my disposal, and I was getting paid for it!
Darwin suffered, for Australia, heavy bombing by the Japanese. There were still some of the old fortifications and a trip down the tunnel near the docks was a must. The Stuart Highway, the north/south road that spears through the Territory to South Australia had the remains of airstrips beside it and on many there were displays with a short history and sometimes old photographs of the aircraft that operated from there. One day I took a trip down so a place by the Adelaide River where one could go on a boat trip and observe ‘Jumping Crocodiles. This is where the commentator drones on about the untameable crocs dating from the time of the dinosaurs and you look over you shoulder and there is the ruler straight wake of the local performing crocodile coming for lunch.
Fast forward a few years. Back in Zimbabwe after an absence from Rhodesia of a few years. Similar boat, similar drone; this time it's a Zambezi crocodile creating the self same dead straight wake for his lunch.
The dinosaurs must have done it too; jumping out of the water to snatch a pigs head off a piece of string.
Coming back I decided to try the old Stuart Highway. This was the old winding road that had a few surprises, like trees lying so low across the road that the leaves brush the roof. I breasted a hill and there was a police Ute (Utility/pickup) parked across the road with two cops fast asleep in it. They woke up and pulled out a breathalyser; it was a random breath check???? I blew into the machine and asked them if they had had any trade. No, they said, they weren’t even expecting me. The check point was probably where the dart at landed.
Shortly afterwards I came across a fairly large airstrip. There were the remains of a tarmac runway with dispersals in the trees and even an old sandbagged machine gun position. A notice board had pictures that showed it to be a B26 base that flew empty to Darwin, loaded up with ordinance and then unloaded it on the Japanese. I had no idea of the take-off performance of the B26 but I would have thought that with the space available departing virtually empty would have been a good idea. The site spread across the Highway and the remains of a traffic control shed where the chief who supervised the mingling of taxiing aircraft and loaded lorries plied his trade.
A couple of days later I was detailed to proceed to Kununarra.
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Evocative, FED ... keep typing! 
Darwin suffered, for Australia, heavy bombing by the Japanese.
They dropped a heavier weight of bombs than Pearl Harbour received, prompting Commander Fuchida (who led both raids) to comment that it was like using a sledgehammer to open a walnut.
All up, the Top End saw around 64 raids.
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Fareastdriver,
Your later days out there seem to have been packed with activity. It seems strange that a compulsory retirement age of 60 (presumably introduced on medical grounds) from "regular" employment, could be circumvented by simply going on a "zero-hours" Contract ! But that seems to be the way it was.
No.12 Squadron, RAAF was the first Sqn to be based at Darwin in the Northern Territories '42-'44 so Wiki tells me. They got their Vengeances from Oct'42 onwards, worked-up on them and started operating the next year.
At first they were used on rather pointless sea patrols (we did the same in India), but then they must have decided to "bite the bullet" and teach themselves how to use them properly.
Among other places they were at Merauke (New Guinea) from Nov'43 to May'44. But they did a strike on Selaru in the Tanimbar Islands on 18 June'43 (from where ?); this seems to be the only VV 'op' they ever did. Of course, the VVs were pulled out of the line in summer '44 (as also were we - WHY ? - the war still had a year to run, we could have been useful).
Anyway, in your wanderings in the Darwin area, did you ever come across any memories or trace of the VVs ?
This convivial gathering lacks an important item - the Bomb Fin Container/Bar Stool: Clearly, this lot needed to "Get Some In !" (if they'd done a lot of VV 'ops', they would have collected a whole pile of them and seen the obvious possibility of using them for the purpose).
Also, they would have realised that the end (gunner's) curved section of the canopy, seen pushed back in the photo above, would prove a nuisance when he was facing forward, (but still wanted the breeze), and done what we did - just chuck 'em out ! (you could do things like that in those days).
No. 12 Squadron aircrew in the bar of the aircrew mess at Merauke (note: Gentlemen on the left, Players on the right ! - apartheid still evident)
Hope there's still a bit more to come from the good old Far East,
Cheers, Danny.
PS: Chugalug in particular will be interested in this VV picture (I've only just spotted it myself). Look at the aerial - there seems to be a downward 'kink' in the (tension sprung?) bit on the mast. Something is pulling it down. And that something can only be the conjectured two (invisible) aerial wires running from that point to each wing tip !
Elementary, my dear Danny.
Your later days out there seem to have been packed with activity. It seems strange that a compulsory retirement age of 60 (presumably introduced on medical grounds) from "regular" employment, could be circumvented by simply going on a "zero-hours" Contract ! But that seems to be the way it was.
No.12 Squadron, RAAF was the first Sqn to be based at Darwin in the Northern Territories '42-'44 so Wiki tells me. They got their Vengeances from Oct'42 onwards, worked-up on them and started operating the next year.
At first they were used on rather pointless sea patrols (we did the same in India), but then they must have decided to "bite the bullet" and teach themselves how to use them properly.
Among other places they were at Merauke (New Guinea) from Nov'43 to May'44. But they did a strike on Selaru in the Tanimbar Islands on 18 June'43 (from where ?); this seems to be the only VV 'op' they ever did. Of course, the VVs were pulled out of the line in summer '44 (as also were we - WHY ? - the war still had a year to run, we could have been useful).
Anyway, in your wanderings in the Darwin area, did you ever come across any memories or trace of the VVs ?
This convivial gathering lacks an important item - the Bomb Fin Container/Bar Stool: Clearly, this lot needed to "Get Some In !" (if they'd done a lot of VV 'ops', they would have collected a whole pile of them and seen the obvious possibility of using them for the purpose).
Also, they would have realised that the end (gunner's) curved section of the canopy, seen pushed back in the photo above, would prove a nuisance when he was facing forward, (but still wanted the breeze), and done what we did - just chuck 'em out ! (you could do things like that in those days).
No. 12 Squadron aircrew in the bar of the aircrew mess at Merauke (note: Gentlemen on the left, Players on the right ! - apartheid still evident)
Hope there's still a bit more to come from the good old Far East,
Cheers, Danny.
PS: Chugalug in particular will be interested in this VV picture (I've only just spotted it myself). Look at the aerial - there seems to be a downward 'kink' in the (tension sprung?) bit on the mast. Something is pulling it down. And that something can only be the conjectured two (invisible) aerial wires running from that point to each wing tip !
Elementary, my dear Danny.
Last edited by Danny42C; 14th Jul 2015 at 04:02. Reason: Afterthought
It seems strange that a compulsory retirement age of 60 (presumably introduced on medical grounds)
Back to Oz.
I wasn’t flying, I was driving. The aircraft had flown there with the pilots and some engineers whilst a couple of engineers had driven a company Ute there to act as transport. They needed some more so I was taking one of the two company cars to ease the transport situation. I was quite a long way; down the Stuart Highway to Katherine and then west to Western Australia. It had to be done in daylight, as is all bush travelling in Australia because of errant kangaroos and feral cattle. Big trucks and buses have Roo Bars on the front which is similar to a cowcatcher on a train.
The first problem was the car. The rear axle was on the bump stops and opening the boot explained why. They had loaded it with a full set of maintenance manuals and the space was solid with paperwork. Loads of moaning from me that Poms don’t drive cars in that state so they removed half of it and got the car back on to even keel. I had a passenger, an engineer who had never driven in the bush before and looked slightly apprehensive. With my years of blundering through the Rhodesian bush I had no fears at all.
We set off down the Stuart Highway; with a 120 kph limit (75 mph) one could get going but you had to be careful of the road trains. These were large trucks with three or four equally large trailers behind them limited to 100 kph. Because they were so long you had to be sure that there was plenty of clear road ahead to get past them safely. Some of them would have what is known as a dog; a trailer that will not follow in a straight line but whips from side to side. They were normally the rear trailer but occasionally one in the middle used to influence the one behind. It just made the whole unit that much wider especially when they were coming the other way. A cup of coffee in Katherine at a café where there was a stick again the wall that showed the height of the water, about 60 cm, the last time the Katherine River flooded.
We then punched off to Western Australia along the A1. The road was practically deserted. It was fully fenced both sides in a futile attempt to keep Coos and Roos off the road. The Roos could jump over it but the Coos couldn’t so the carcasses of the cattle that got onto the wrong side from the water trough were rotting in the sun. Just before we reached the border with Western Australia I saw a geological sight that I have never seen before or since.
It was an escarpment; not very long, about ten miles or so. What was so fascinating was that at the western end it was a pristine cliff. As your eyes travelled eastwards it slowly deteriorated until at the eastern end it had crumbled into a pile of rubble. It was a complete exhibition of natural erosion in one sweep.
We then came to the State border. Those of you that have travelled to Australia will know the arrivals are very fussy about what you can bring into Australia. That traditional black pudding that your relatives yearn for goes straight into the bin; the same with Chinese delicacies. The individual states are the same as I found out when I pulled up at the border office.
“Have you got an esky?” he demanded.
I put on my best Pom accent. “What’s an esky?”
“One of those.” He pointed to a fenced compound about the size of a tennis court that was five feet high with discarded cooler boxes.
I hadn’t, so I wasn’t led away in chains for trying to massacre the entire greenery in WA with traces of lettuce in an esky.
We then arrived in Kununarra. The hotel, at that time run by an international chain was almost the first place we found. We checked in, had dinner plus a few beers with the blokes and I was briefed for the next morning.
We weren’t supposed to be at Kununarra; we should have been at a place called Troughton Island. This was a small island of the coast that hosted a small airfield built during the war. The island had zero inhabitants and was only used for offshore support. A month or so previously a cyclone had come along and had demolished everything in toto so it was now unusable. There was another wartime airfield nearby on the mainland called Truscott but this was already occupied by the other Oz helicopter company for their offshore contract. We then had a different procedure to get out people out to the rig and back.
Our passengers would be loaded into a Beech Kingair at Darwin. When they got airborne we would fire up our 332 at Kununarra and fly to Truscott. We would arrive first and then shut down to await them. The Kingair would arrive in a cloud of dust until it reached the tarmac at the far end which enabled the brakes to work. This was essential because the airfield had been virtually abandoned at the end of the war and there were all sorts of equipment and unexploded ordinance lying around. We would be there and back in an hour and leave them to the mercies of the Kingair whilst we punched off back to Kununarra and the bar. The only drawback in this procedure was that there was a time difference between NT and WA. This meant that we had to launch in the dark.
As with most airfields in Australia the airfield was unmanned. There is a radio procedure that is mandatory in Australia so that pilots know where other pilots are so takeoff including departure heading, joining from which direction, downwind and landing calls are made. At night there is another complication; it is dark but they have an answer for this; an airfield frequency that controls the airfield lighting. By selecting the frequency and in this case keying four long dashes the entire airfield lights up for fifteen minutes. That is plenty of time to taxi to the runway and take off, even for a fully loaded passenger aircraft; who do. It’s fascinating when you first do it but then it is old hat.
Kununarra started of life as a work camp for the Ord River project. This was an irrigation scheme for a massive agricultural project in the Kimberly area. The main dam was constructed in 1962 and Lake Argyle, the result, is the largest inland body of water in Australia. All has not gone as well as expected for various reasons but it has opened up tourism, especially for saltwater crocodile enthusiasts. I had a look at the dam and then I went up a hill to take some pictures of the township. I went down to the main road and whilst walking back I witnessed one of the more unfortunate parts of Australian life.
There was a clearing in the woods near the road and in it was a big circle of local Aboriginals. In the middle was a five foot high pile of VB (Victoria Bitter) cases and it was obvious that they were intent on demolishing the whole lot. The reason was that is was ‘pay day’, the day that they collected their benefits. One could sympathise with them. They had no tradition of the so-called work ethic because it did not exist before Captain Cook arrived. They could get by now as they had done for centuries without money so why start now when the government gives you stacks of beer tickets.
I had only been there about four days and then there was a panic to get me back to Darwin. The aircraft that was coming from Aberdeen in an Antonov was still on the British register and so they needed a CAA licensed pilot, ie me, there to be able to fly the reassembly checks. With my feet hardly touching the ground I was bunged into the back of a F27 and then I was off back to Darwin..
There was only the three of us at Darwin. The chief pilot, on his two weeks rotation; the chief engineer, who lived permanently on site; and me. We had two vehicles left. The chief pilot preferred utes, the engineer had his own so I had the brand new Toyota Cecilia with a Shell fuel carnet.
The aircraft we were waiting for was still at Aberdeen. They had fitted long range sponson tanks onto it and they were having trouble getting them to work. I had flown the Puma J, the predecessor to the Super Puma nearly twenty years before and I knew that the tanks would not commence feeding unless there was at least 150 lbs of fuel in them; then they would feed until empty. The CP and the CE had been on Pumas as well. ‘Surely they know that’ ‘everybody know that’ ‘we’ve always had to do that’. And still the telexes came.
I was having a great time. I was living in a two bedroom serviced apartment on a complex with a swimming pool and barbeque area just a stones throw from the city centre. I went to every museum available and saw more kangaroos, wallabies, koalas crocodiles and dingoes than you could shake a stick at. At the end of the day I would grill a thick fillet steak and demolish a bottle of Aussie wine. (or two)
We then got the message that the aircraft had missed the Antonov. That had left the UK with stacks of other peoples stuff and it couldn’t wait. I couldn’t go back to Kununarra because its roster had been written for the Australian staff and that was sacrosanct. They then asked me to stay on until it arrived.
I would have been on contract pay, (£187/day), location allowance of about A$50/day doing nothing for the foreseeable future. It was a benefit scrounger’s dream. There was only one spectre on the horizon; the taxman.
I was on a business visa that entitled me to work in Australia for an overseas company. Even though I worked in Australia I was paid by the UK parent company. I did not know how long this arrangement was supposed to last and not having a tax advisor on the doorstep I did not want to stick out my neck too far. I was also getting bored. I had had a long period of either slack or no flying for the month or so and I was running out of things to do. I had been everywhere, got the T shirts, I knew how fast the Cecelia could go on dirt roads, forwards or backwards. Most importantly it was coming up to the typhoon season in China and I wanted to be there when needed.
I suggested that they get the aircraft registered in Australia during the delay. The light bulbs flashing up were blinding. ‘Why didn’t we think of that’, they chorused. They put it to Perth and the next day I was told that I was no longer needed. I reminded them that I was on a seven day notice period so I put in my invoice including the next week. The next day I was back in China.
The operation in China had a bed for me and as soon as I arrived somebody went sick so I volunteered to fly because I was still being paid by the parent company. The company was very grateful for me helping them out but the impression on the Chinese executives on the operation was life changing.
The aircraft we were waiting for was still at Aberdeen. They had fitted long range sponson tanks onto it and they were having trouble getting them to work. I had flown the Puma J, the predecessor to the Super Puma nearly twenty years before and I knew that the tanks would not commence feeding unless there was at least 150 lbs of fuel in them; then they would feed until empty. The CP and the CE had been on Pumas as well. ‘Surely they know that’ ‘everybody know that’ ‘we’ve always had to do that’. And still the telexes came.
I was having a great time. I was living in a two bedroom serviced apartment on a complex with a swimming pool and barbeque area just a stones throw from the city centre. I went to every museum available and saw more kangaroos, wallabies, koalas crocodiles and dingoes than you could shake a stick at. At the end of the day I would grill a thick fillet steak and demolish a bottle of Aussie wine. (or two)
We then got the message that the aircraft had missed the Antonov. That had left the UK with stacks of other peoples stuff and it couldn’t wait. I couldn’t go back to Kununarra because its roster had been written for the Australian staff and that was sacrosanct. They then asked me to stay on until it arrived.
I would have been on contract pay, (£187/day), location allowance of about A$50/day doing nothing for the foreseeable future. It was a benefit scrounger’s dream. There was only one spectre on the horizon; the taxman.
I was on a business visa that entitled me to work in Australia for an overseas company. Even though I worked in Australia I was paid by the UK parent company. I did not know how long this arrangement was supposed to last and not having a tax advisor on the doorstep I did not want to stick out my neck too far. I was also getting bored. I had had a long period of either slack or no flying for the month or so and I was running out of things to do. I had been everywhere, got the T shirts, I knew how fast the Cecelia could go on dirt roads, forwards or backwards. Most importantly it was coming up to the typhoon season in China and I wanted to be there when needed.
I suggested that they get the aircraft registered in Australia during the delay. The light bulbs flashing up were blinding. ‘Why didn’t we think of that’, they chorused. They put it to Perth and the next day I was told that I was no longer needed. I reminded them that I was on a seven day notice period so I put in my invoice including the next week. The next day I was back in China.
The operation in China had a bed for me and as soon as I arrived somebody went sick so I volunteered to fly because I was still being paid by the parent company. The company was very grateful for me helping them out but the impression on the Chinese executives on the operation was life changing.
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Long live the "Pilot's Brevet" Thread !
Fareastdriver,
It's hard keeping up with the twists and turns of your complicated story! But surely, for an enormously skilled and responsible job, where they can sack you on a week's notice, a salary of £68,000 pa (plus £750 pm exs) is rather niggardly, I would have thought . How long ago would that have been ? (just look at the salaries recently on offer here in China for 320 and 737 pilots).
There doesn't seem to be much loyalty shown to you by some of your employers, but I suppose that's the common lot of the "casual" worker - you don't know where your next job/meal is coming from, do you ?
Thank you for sharing your tales of Old China with us (and hope there are many more to come) for they're unique, and the more day-to-day routine details, the better. This Thread has always been the most popular and entertaining one on this Forum; not only that, it is forming an intensely valuable world archive of flying and ground engineering experiences as far back as living memory goes. Cliffe Leach (RIP) builded better than he knew when he started this seven years ago,
Cheers, Danny
It's hard keeping up with the twists and turns of your complicated story! But surely, for an enormously skilled and responsible job, where they can sack you on a week's notice, a salary of £68,000 pa (plus £750 pm exs) is rather niggardly, I would have thought . How long ago would that have been ? (just look at the salaries recently on offer here in China for 320 and 737 pilots).
There doesn't seem to be much loyalty shown to you by some of your employers, but I suppose that's the common lot of the "casual" worker - you don't know where your next job/meal is coming from, do you ?
Thank you for sharing your tales of Old China with us (and hope there are many more to come) for they're unique, and the more day-to-day routine details, the better. This Thread has always been the most popular and entertaining one on this Forum; not only that, it is forming an intensely valuable world archive of flying and ground engineering experiences as far back as living memory goes. Cliffe Leach (RIP) builded better than he knew when he started this seven years ago,
Cheers, Danny
That was over fifteen years ago. A couple of years later it was £300. The last I heard it was £450 but looking at the price of oil nowadays it is probably down to Zero.
The story, however, will continue...................
The story, however, will continue...................
Another fine installment , thanks FED.
How far were the rigs typically from land ? and what were your emergency procedure for water landing ? would you try to float or immediately abandon to the liferaft.
Danny, Sir, have you been in many helicopters ? and what were your initial thoughts ?
it appears some of the early helo's had great visibility !
World?s First Helicopter ? Today in History: September 14 | ConnecticutHistory.org
Rgds,
Fionn
How far were the rigs typically from land ? and what were your emergency procedure for water landing ? would you try to float or immediately abandon to the liferaft.
Danny, Sir, have you been in many helicopters ? and what were your initial thoughts ?
it appears some of the early helo's had great visibility !
World?s First Helicopter ? Today in History: September 14 | ConnecticutHistory.org
Rgds,
Fionn
Fionn101
The distance varies from where you coast out. You may have 100 miles to run but it may be only 40 miles from the shore. The continental shelf is a clue; that's where the offshore oil is. That can vary from being 200 miles, China, or on the doostep, the North Sea.
One does not stay in a ditched helicopter unless it is designed to float, ie the Sikorsky S61. Years ago they water taxied a ditched BV 234 (Chinook) to a platform but apart from that the aircraft is abandoned fairly rapidly. Offshore helicopters have flotation devices. Years ago they had pontoons, now smaller ones have bags that look like pontoons when they are inflated. Large helicopters have them streamlined on the the fuselarge or concealed within pop-out doors. They are only designed to keep the aircraft upright so that it can be abandoned safely. Without them, as the engines and gearboxs are at the top, it would almost certainly turn turtle as soon as it arrived. The liferafts, at least two of them, are designed to float so they are a better bet than a helicopter, which is not.
FantomZorbin
I was under the impression that the executive branch of helicopter travel had carried him. I would agree. I once had a terrifying ride in a Bell 47 from Nicosia to Akrotiri and I swore blind that I would never step into any helicopter below four tonnes again.
The distance varies from where you coast out. You may have 100 miles to run but it may be only 40 miles from the shore. The continental shelf is a clue; that's where the offshore oil is. That can vary from being 200 miles, China, or on the doostep, the North Sea.
One does not stay in a ditched helicopter unless it is designed to float, ie the Sikorsky S61. Years ago they water taxied a ditched BV 234 (Chinook) to a platform but apart from that the aircraft is abandoned fairly rapidly. Offshore helicopters have flotation devices. Years ago they had pontoons, now smaller ones have bags that look like pontoons when they are inflated. Large helicopters have them streamlined on the the fuselarge or concealed within pop-out doors. They are only designed to keep the aircraft upright so that it can be abandoned safely. Without them, as the engines and gearboxs are at the top, it would almost certainly turn turtle as soon as it arrived. The liferafts, at least two of them, are designed to float so they are a better bet than a helicopter, which is not.
FantomZorbin
I was under the impression that the executive branch of helicopter travel had carried him. I would agree. I once had a terrifying ride in a Bell 47 from Nicosia to Akrotiri and I swore blind that I would never step into any helicopter below four tonnes again.
Gp Capt Sir Douglas Bader emphatically refused to be flown in a helicopter at RAF Shawbury!!
FED
We were all under the same impression, alas we were wrong and plans had to be hastily changed.
There was no reason given apart from his determination not to fly in a Gazelle. Lots of very surprised and disappointed families.
We were all under the same impression, alas we were wrong and plans had to be hastily changed.
There was no reason given apart from his determination not to fly in a Gazelle. Lots of very surprised and disappointed families.
It was then time to go back to the UK for a bit. Not too long as the taxman would beckon. Luckily I was stepping from one year to the other plus a bit of time on the Costa so It wasn’t until the end of April that I started putting my bids in. Total lack of interest from my UK company after all that I had done for them but the Chinese company was very impressed by the fact that I had flown a trip voluntarily when I returned from Australia. With that came the nudge that they may employ me directly.
I had my feet pressed against the seat in front all they way to Hong Kong in the 747 trying to make it go faster. When I arrived it wasn’t a case of signing a form and strapping on an aeroplane; it doesn’t happen like that in China. I didn’t get a pay rise but I got security of employment for six months and they looked after my Chinese income tax. As my old company was not forthcoming then I was fairly fortunate to get that.
I was paid in US$, cash. This meant that I had to open a US$ account in HK and once a month I would have a bag full of money to take over there. The Chinese tax system has several different bands and what happens is the company calculate how much tax you are due for that month. They then take your payslip around to the tax office and pay your tax. The taxmen then stamp it and you will get the net amount. There is no annual tax summary, you are taxed monthly. After that I would end up in the pay office whilst the accountant doled out about two years of his pay. Somewhere along the line I was paying the equivalent of Pension and National Insurance but I don’t think that is now worth claiming.
The routine was exactly the same as before, the only difference was that I had my own apartment. I was hoping, as their employee, to go to some of the more outlandish operations but it was too difficult to do the type conversions as they were all in Chinese. It was also thought that the co-pilots would not be able to survive another company dinner with me around.
At the end of the six months I was approaching my 60th birthday. ICAO rules at that time barred anybody over sixty from flying internationally so my UK licence was no good in China or anywhere else apart from the UK. I then retired for the third time. RAF; Company; Flying; and went back to the UK with a massive tax return that proved to the whole world, if you could understand it, that I had paid my taxes and wasn’t liable for any more. I then settled down for a life of leisure in a new house.
Six months later Aberdeen were waving money in front of my face.
Just a co-pilot. Do the planning, sit there, no responsibility compared with before. Five days a week when I wanted too. Time off when I felt like it. Not only that I was being paid per day more than the captain. You couldn’t make it up. I made hay whilst the sum shone for eighteen months and then I retired again predominately because somebody in authority decided I was earning two much. (Contract pay plus two pensions)
I did Europe, Egypt, Fiji, New Zealand, South Africa and the Victoria Falls. The USA swept beneath my feet again with visits to Florida and California. In all this travelling I had a yearning to go back to see how China was getting on and a year later I did.
“You should have been here last week, you would have got a job.”
This was the cry as I entered the bar. Apparently one of the British captains had clocked a bar owner over the bill and had then done a runner. An elderly member then informed me that as the ICAO age had gone up to 65 the Chinese would endorse a British licence to that age. There was somebody coming out to replace the errant captain so I dismissed the notion. I was also leaving the next day so there was no time to investigate.
I mulled over it on the aircraft coming back and when I got back I sent an email to the chief pilot asking what the chances were in the cold light of dawn. Immediate reply, I was on. There was going to be a problem renewing my medical; both the AMEs that I knew, at that age you always go to a doctor you know, were away on holiday. Then the UK head office came in on the loop and they organised my flight to Hong Kong and China organised the hotel and CAA medical the morning after arrival at our normal AME. This all went to plan and the above phrase now reads.
“You be here next week and you will have a job.”
I had my feet pressed against the seat in front all they way to Hong Kong in the 747 trying to make it go faster. When I arrived it wasn’t a case of signing a form and strapping on an aeroplane; it doesn’t happen like that in China. I didn’t get a pay rise but I got security of employment for six months and they looked after my Chinese income tax. As my old company was not forthcoming then I was fairly fortunate to get that.
I was paid in US$, cash. This meant that I had to open a US$ account in HK and once a month I would have a bag full of money to take over there. The Chinese tax system has several different bands and what happens is the company calculate how much tax you are due for that month. They then take your payslip around to the tax office and pay your tax. The taxmen then stamp it and you will get the net amount. There is no annual tax summary, you are taxed monthly. After that I would end up in the pay office whilst the accountant doled out about two years of his pay. Somewhere along the line I was paying the equivalent of Pension and National Insurance but I don’t think that is now worth claiming.
The routine was exactly the same as before, the only difference was that I had my own apartment. I was hoping, as their employee, to go to some of the more outlandish operations but it was too difficult to do the type conversions as they were all in Chinese. It was also thought that the co-pilots would not be able to survive another company dinner with me around.
At the end of the six months I was approaching my 60th birthday. ICAO rules at that time barred anybody over sixty from flying internationally so my UK licence was no good in China or anywhere else apart from the UK. I then retired for the third time. RAF; Company; Flying; and went back to the UK with a massive tax return that proved to the whole world, if you could understand it, that I had paid my taxes and wasn’t liable for any more. I then settled down for a life of leisure in a new house.
Six months later Aberdeen were waving money in front of my face.
Just a co-pilot. Do the planning, sit there, no responsibility compared with before. Five days a week when I wanted too. Time off when I felt like it. Not only that I was being paid per day more than the captain. You couldn’t make it up. I made hay whilst the sum shone for eighteen months and then I retired again predominately because somebody in authority decided I was earning two much. (Contract pay plus two pensions)
I did Europe, Egypt, Fiji, New Zealand, South Africa and the Victoria Falls. The USA swept beneath my feet again with visits to Florida and California. In all this travelling I had a yearning to go back to see how China was getting on and a year later I did.
“You should have been here last week, you would have got a job.”
This was the cry as I entered the bar. Apparently one of the British captains had clocked a bar owner over the bill and had then done a runner. An elderly member then informed me that as the ICAO age had gone up to 65 the Chinese would endorse a British licence to that age. There was somebody coming out to replace the errant captain so I dismissed the notion. I was also leaving the next day so there was no time to investigate.
I mulled over it on the aircraft coming back and when I got back I sent an email to the chief pilot asking what the chances were in the cold light of dawn. Immediate reply, I was on. There was going to be a problem renewing my medical; both the AMEs that I knew, at that age you always go to a doctor you know, were away on holiday. Then the UK head office came in on the loop and they organised my flight to Hong Kong and China organised the hotel and CAA medical the morning after arrival at our normal AME. This all went to plan and the above phrase now reads.
“You be here next week and you will have a job.”
Last edited by Fareastdriver; 17th Jul 2015 at 10:02.
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One Born Every Minute !
Fionn101,
First reaction ?......."I'm seeing this - but I don't really believe it - it's all done with smoke and mirrors ! Has gravity been suspended, then ?
(just the same when I saw my first Harrier do its stuff!)
Fly in one ?......Good God, NO ! (still don't believe it). But if I were a few years younger, and could get it past the Boss, would love to have a go with those gyrocopter things. They look great fun.
Old Post re-hashed:
Farmer goes to see Wg Cdr Ken Wallis (RIP):
"That's a clever idea - just what I need to do a bit of spraying small areas - how much would one cost ?"
Wallis:
"Well, it might be possible, but we'd have to modify the basic design, it wouldn't be cheap". Anyway, how much flying experience have you got ?"
Farmer:
"Well none, actually - but I should be able to pick it up over a weekend !"
Danny.
First reaction ?......."I'm seeing this - but I don't really believe it - it's all done with smoke and mirrors ! Has gravity been suspended, then ?
(just the same when I saw my first Harrier do its stuff!)
Fly in one ?......Good God, NO ! (still don't believe it). But if I were a few years younger, and could get it past the Boss, would love to have a go with those gyrocopter things. They look great fun.
Old Post re-hashed:
Farmer goes to see Wg Cdr Ken Wallis (RIP):
"That's a clever idea - just what I need to do a bit of spraying small areas - how much would one cost ?"
Wallis:
"Well, it might be possible, but we'd have to modify the basic design, it wouldn't be cheap". Anyway, how much flying experience have you got ?"
Farmer:
"Well none, actually - but I should be able to pick it up over a weekend !"
Danny.
On my previous stint in China I was there in 1997 when Hong Kong was handed back to the Chinese. I was effected by the run-up in both China and Hong Kong and come the final night sat there flicking between Shenzhen and Hong Kong TV getting both sides of the action.
Our operation was in the Shenzhen Special Economic Zone. This area was about the same size as the area between the Thames and the northern half of the M25. It was fenced, as it had always been since shortly after its inception to prevent a tidal wave of peasants trying to get new life. In recent years it had relaxed a bit, there were plenty of other opportunities in China by then, and the checks of the permits allowing people to stay was only random. That changed, totally, about two months before the handover. Shenzhen was now surrounded by steel.
The reason was that the Chinese government was afraid of a host of Chinese nationals demanding entry into what they considered was Chinese. The Special Administrative Region that Hong Kong was going to be meant nothing to them because all their lives Hong Kong was a land of milk and honey. Some, more nationalistic than others, were quite excited about it. They would go on about the return of Hong Kong, Macau and a few continued about Singapore. The latter obviously believed that if the population was predominately Chinese it belonged to China.
Apart from that most people didn’t seem to care.
Hong Kong was having a bad time during the run up. Hotels were virtually empty. Napier road was deserted. The tour boats for the harbour of the tours of Lantau were all tied up. Should you want to hangout there for the weekend you could walk up to the desk of any hotel and demand a 60% discount; and you got it. As one commentator addressed it; ‘You would think that the PLA was going to come along and bayonet everybody in the streets.’
A week before handover the ATC restrictions came in. We had to change our route and describe a wide arc at least ten miles from the border. Then a unit of PLA helicopters arrived. They parked their aircraft well away from us and disappeared into a distant shed. Flying over Shenzhen you could see lorry parks with dozens of PLA trucks parked within; whatever happened in Hong Kong they were not going to be short of firepower.
The ceremony itself was a bit of bore. One advantage of having two diametrically opposed TV stations is that you can flick from one to the other to get the different reactions. The Royal Marines were a bit of a let down. I would have thought that they would have been in full No 1 uniforms but they weren’t; they were dressed in shorts and berets and looked a real shambles compared with the ceremonial guard of the PLA.
After midnight the gates open and convoys of lorries with all the soldiers being told to wave to the locals meandered there way to the Prince of Wales barracks and other places. All the British bigwigs, Prince Charles; Blair, his first jolly since getting elected; Patten and others boarded the Britannia which sailed off on her last long voyage.
The next morning we watched the PLA take off en route to their new base at Sek Kong.
I never saw any evidence of PLA forces in the subsequent years when I visited the SAR. They used to stay in their barracks and from what I heard from HK ATC the helicopters did likewise. The biggest problem was that British, Australian and New Zealand backpackers couldn't get jobs as barmaids any more so you were served by some miserable bloke. It took about three or four months for Hong Kong to get back into its stride, and it did, and it will continue to do so.
Our operation was in the Shenzhen Special Economic Zone. This area was about the same size as the area between the Thames and the northern half of the M25. It was fenced, as it had always been since shortly after its inception to prevent a tidal wave of peasants trying to get new life. In recent years it had relaxed a bit, there were plenty of other opportunities in China by then, and the checks of the permits allowing people to stay was only random. That changed, totally, about two months before the handover. Shenzhen was now surrounded by steel.
The reason was that the Chinese government was afraid of a host of Chinese nationals demanding entry into what they considered was Chinese. The Special Administrative Region that Hong Kong was going to be meant nothing to them because all their lives Hong Kong was a land of milk and honey. Some, more nationalistic than others, were quite excited about it. They would go on about the return of Hong Kong, Macau and a few continued about Singapore. The latter obviously believed that if the population was predominately Chinese it belonged to China.
Apart from that most people didn’t seem to care.
Hong Kong was having a bad time during the run up. Hotels were virtually empty. Napier road was deserted. The tour boats for the harbour of the tours of Lantau were all tied up. Should you want to hangout there for the weekend you could walk up to the desk of any hotel and demand a 60% discount; and you got it. As one commentator addressed it; ‘You would think that the PLA was going to come along and bayonet everybody in the streets.’
A week before handover the ATC restrictions came in. We had to change our route and describe a wide arc at least ten miles from the border. Then a unit of PLA helicopters arrived. They parked their aircraft well away from us and disappeared into a distant shed. Flying over Shenzhen you could see lorry parks with dozens of PLA trucks parked within; whatever happened in Hong Kong they were not going to be short of firepower.
The ceremony itself was a bit of bore. One advantage of having two diametrically opposed TV stations is that you can flick from one to the other to get the different reactions. The Royal Marines were a bit of a let down. I would have thought that they would have been in full No 1 uniforms but they weren’t; they were dressed in shorts and berets and looked a real shambles compared with the ceremonial guard of the PLA.
After midnight the gates open and convoys of lorries with all the soldiers being told to wave to the locals meandered there way to the Prince of Wales barracks and other places. All the British bigwigs, Prince Charles; Blair, his first jolly since getting elected; Patten and others boarded the Britannia which sailed off on her last long voyage.
The next morning we watched the PLA take off en route to their new base at Sek Kong.
I never saw any evidence of PLA forces in the subsequent years when I visited the SAR. They used to stay in their barracks and from what I heard from HK ATC the helicopters did likewise. The biggest problem was that British, Australian and New Zealand backpackers couldn't get jobs as barmaids any more so you were served by some miserable bloke. It took about three or four months for Hong Kong to get back into its stride, and it did, and it will continue to do so.
Last edited by Fareastdriver; 18th Jul 2015 at 13:00.
In his Shell role Sir Douglas Bader chauffeured himself around Europe in a Miles Gemini (rather like a twin-motored Messenger) and made his mark on ATC at Sydenham, now Belfast City Airport but in the 1940s shared by Shorts and the Royal Navy.
An old friend who was a junior controller at the time recalled that the great man was cleared to land on the main runway 23, which had a strong crosswind. A mile or so out he veered north and performed a slipping turn into the very short northerly runway which had been closed since war's end.
When ATC remonstrated with the great man, he responded that HE was the ----- pilot and HE would decide which ------ runway direction was appropriate for landing.
An old friend who was a junior controller at the time recalled that the great man was cleared to land on the main runway 23, which had a strong crosswind. A mile or so out he veered north and performed a slipping turn into the very short northerly runway which had been closed since war's end.
When ATC remonstrated with the great man, he responded that HE was the ----- pilot and HE would decide which ------ runway direction was appropriate for landing.