The wierd and annoying habits of Pax!
In the later half of 1989, was loading up a group of passengers and one of the old blokes started going on about the pilot's dispute. I tried to ignore him for as long as possible, and then his mate started about what a cushy job it was being a fly boy, and it really wasn't a proper job and what a great bloke Bob was for sticking up the pilots blah blah. We are just about to start up and the angry old chap starts up again with rantings about what a pack of c%%%'s pilots were etc, when his wife lean's forward and smack's him over the head and say's "something about this bloke is responsible for our lives for the next 45 mins so shut your mouth!"
Thread Starter
Gatorade refill bottle...perfect, (if you're normally proportioned and don't expell the equivalent of a thoroughbred race horse!)
You can actually get (in)'convienience' bottles specifically for the purpose.
The one designed for the ladies kinda looks like our emergency oxy masks, probably wouldn't be good to get the two confused...(unless your into that kind of thing of course!)
You can actually get (in)'convienience' bottles specifically for the purpose.
The one designed for the ladies kinda looks like our emergency oxy masks, probably wouldn't be good to get the two confused...(unless your into that kind of thing of course!)
Join Date: Oct 2005
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This guy booked a Chieftain for HIMSELF and insisted that he only and sat in the back row (strange). All was good until we went IMC and he raced up the front and started abusing me for entering cloud. i looked at him and man he was a lather of sweat. I SCREAMED at him to f*****g sit down and shut up or we would both be killed. I grabbed him and threw him into row 2.....meanwhile drifting wildly off course and altitude (a/p U/s). When we arrived at the destination after breaking visual halfway through an NDB he told me he would be back at 5pm. He returned and it was raining. I "briefed" him on his previous behaviour and he said he was now ok and he trusted me. He read the newspaper on the way home and never said a word. After one hell of a trip back in the dark in IMC and TS we bounced our way onto the destination rwy and parked the aircraft. He came forward and handed me a blank cheque and said thank you for being understanding,and he would call me. I flew that guy all over Australia for years after...and he ALWAYS handed me a blank cheque. He told me that he once had a non Instrument rated pilot fly him into IMC and the guy lost the aircraft, went inverted but broke out of cloud in time to count the leaves on the trees below. He was petrified up to and including the day i met him. I am lucky to be able to share my story with you people.BTW he was a leading bookmaker.
aww gotta love the look on the girl on the rights face when she sees the vomit geysering everywhere. Hope the d!ckhead pushing neggies in a 172 gets his ar5e seriously kicked.
j3
j3
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Used to fly the islands of the Torres Straits, and every now and again, pull the short straw and have to take the kids either to or from their home islands to Horn or vice verca at the begining or end of the school holidays.
It was always a pain in the arse with them acting up, shouting, punching each other, climbing over seats, chucking crap around, scrawling in black marker over everything and wot not, but one tip from a previous pilot was gold.
Just head for the nearest 'bubbly' looking cloud, punch into it, and a couple of bumps later, hey presto...look back and they're all hugging their pillows, eyes tight shut like sleeping mice! And not a peep out of them till at the other end. It was magical! Playing possum I guess?!
Kinda the polar reverse of our nervous friend above, but worked in our favour!
Strangely, never had a single one spew...they must be used to bobbing around in dinghies in force 9 gales i spose!?
It was always a pain in the arse with them acting up, shouting, punching each other, climbing over seats, chucking crap around, scrawling in black marker over everything and wot not, but one tip from a previous pilot was gold.
Just head for the nearest 'bubbly' looking cloud, punch into it, and a couple of bumps later, hey presto...look back and they're all hugging their pillows, eyes tight shut like sleeping mice! And not a peep out of them till at the other end. It was magical! Playing possum I guess?!
Kinda the polar reverse of our nervous friend above, but worked in our favour!
Strangely, never had a single one spew...they must be used to bobbing around in dinghies in force 9 gales i spose!?
Join Date: Oct 2007
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if you're unpressurised, fly high. It knocks them all out and you get a peaceful trip. 15-16000 works quite well - but you only really get away with it in countries where the rules are seen more as guidelines.
One of our guys ended up at 19000 trying to shut them up.
Watch out for bags of chips though, they go with a good bang up there - which may require an underpant change on landing if you're not expecting it.
One of our guys ended up at 19000 trying to shut them up.
Watch out for bags of chips though, they go with a good bang up there - which may require an underpant change on landing if you're not expecting it.
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I had a big bag of chips a mate had brought along go at 8500ft, scared the **** out of me. Took a run of trouble checks and a look around the cabin to figure out the engine wasn't about to cough up steel..
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After the trouble with the aerial urinater (see #78 above),the company equipped the captains with wee-wee bags (for the uninitiated,they are a thick rubbery bag with highly absorbent material inside & a twisty tie top,available in any pilot supply shop)...anyhoo,a few months later,same Friday night flight,bloke comes to the flight deck,busting for a wee. I handed him the bag,gave him a verbal endorsement on it's use. The a/c was chockers with pax,so he had to stand between the pilots & do his filthy business,ewww,the warm bag kept touching my arm. I then handed him a sick bag to hide the evidence & told him to chuck it in a bin on arrival.....
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A friend of mine was just taking off from a remote strip in a Queenair, not many passengers, but one was a Catholic priest who sat in the seat behind him. Just after rotation as he was tucking the gear away, this bell went off. "Holy Cow - fire bell - which engine? - wait a minute, things are looking normal, -what the..?" Then the priest became very apologetic. Turned out he had an alarm clock. The old wind up type with the big loud alarm, in the handluggage. Sounded just like the one in the aircraft. Scared the Hell out of my mate.
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Post script to the above. Peter took himself off to the U.K. with his Senior Com. to convert it to a British ATP. Ran out of money by the time he had a Comm. (perhaps with Instrument Rating), so got a job on a 206 flying for a French construction company working in the Upper Nile/ Southern Sudan. Landed at a strip with an engineer one day and was shot by the Christian rebels. Hear the engineer was later released. Very sad. Just before that I had borrowed his Volkswagen to run around Melbourne while I was doing my Senior Comm subjects while on leave, and I heard about it later. Became good friends with his brother who helped sell to the government the P150 patrol boat that arrested the Jeanette Diana for poaching. For that interesting story see "Embargo - The Jeanette Diana Affair" by A.M.Kengalu.
