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A beautiful story. By the end of it I had tears rolling down my cheeks.
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Fantastic. Thank you:D
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Yes, great story .. loved it! :)
When I was a kid, I used to love going to Melbourne airport to watch the planes take-off and land from the observation deck. I bought a Realistic hand held scanner from Dick Smith's so I could listen to the pilots talk to ATC. When Air Nauru landed late in the afternoon one day, I was surprised to hear an Australian accent on frequency, expecting to hear a Nauruan accent. I guess that may have been you on the radio that day, Centauras? :) |
When Air Nauru landed late in the afternoon one day, I was surprised to hear an Australian accent on frequency, expecting to hear a Nauruan accent. |
And probably those GEN XY&Z folk do too...... if they know what is good for them! I second the nomination for PPRuNer of the year award! |
An absolutely amazing story, excellently written and it sure touches the purity of flying. Thank you.
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Crackin' read. Thanks Centaurus.
Loved the fact you repaid Sid's trust and kindness. :ok: |
Enjoyed that, Centaurus. After a few years off the regular stuff, and then letting the Instrument Rating lapse due lack of demand, was feeling a little jaded - but having a laugh at the tale and the way you spun it means I have to get the book now.. Will have to find and re-read some of my other favourites that were put away, again too..and..do another 50 hours in the Cessna before the end of the year as well.
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I've had the pleasure of a sim ride with you John and I can say that you have Sid's same pleasant and affable manner. You were an absolute gentleman even to a hack like me!!
Great to read about where you got it from!! :) |
In 1954 PG Taylor (Sir Gordon) bought a Short Sandringham flying boat in England and ferried her out to Sydney so as to do charters throughout the South Pacific as far east as Tahiti. He paid 20,000 pounds which was about one tenth of her value six years before when she was due to go into airline service but the increase in landplane services resulted in her going into mothballs instead. Through the Australian government he managed to get the charter out of Malta to Sydney of twenty-five Australian servicemen and their wives going home on maternity leave. Not to decry in the slightest Centaurus's flare for capturing the essence of flight and fliers, here is a sample of PG Taylor at his most lyrical, for contrast, if you like. In his book about his years with the Sandringham (which he christened 'Frigate Bird 111') he described the take-off from Malta graphically - "Heading back for the north-east corner of the bay with engines idling, holding a steady course down wind, I sought out the far corner of the deep water as a point to start the take-off. I had gone out in the crash-boat to check the depths in this corner and had found that an extra hundred yards could be used with enough water under the keel by coming in close to the brown stain of the shoal, turning short to port, and immediately coming up to wind. It was a close thing, and not part of the approved operating area, but I had lined up marks ashore to locate the aircraft safely in this area. It gave valuable extra yards of take-off run before the swells at the mouth of the bay. She moved on down by the leading marks, but as we approached the corner the water was clear enough to locate the bank, so I let her go on with with the starboard float just clearing the edge. Then with the the shoal coming up close ahead I drew off all throttles but number four (the starboard outer, that is.). She slid quietly round, then, as she came up to wind, I came in with the port outer's throttle, all set to go, initially on the outer engines. As she began to rise up on the bow-wave I followed through with the inners as soon as the propellors were clear of the heavy water. She really began to go. I left the power now to our co-pilot, Harry Purvis. From the corner of my eye I saw his reliable hand against the throttle levers. I looked now only ahead to the open sea. She roared and thundered and blasted the water, and as Harry fed her the full take-off power, I felt the great surge from within her. She was heavy and fighting hard in the beginning, but in a few hundred yards she started to go. Over the bow -wave, she straightened down . The hull was planing as the wing began to accept a part of the load. I held her, singing loud and clear and running free on the water, gathering speed as I watched the swell line coming in. A flash thought to the final decision. If in any doubt we must shut off now to stop before the rough water. The thought passes as the aircraft acquires a new freedom beyond this point of no return. Committed now, I keep her level; a little touch on the tail trim; a glance at the ASI reading. Now she is really going, blowing the water from under the keel; but the swell is closing in, great heaving impulses from the sea rolling in, denying her further passage upon the water. Now it must be the air. Another backward touch on the tail trim to balance her out, and I feel the elevator on the control column. I could drag her off, protesting, but I do not want her to go that way. There is still margin for those extra knots that will let her come away cleanly and in good shape. I hold her now with terrific exhilaration as I know she will respond. The first swell is almost on the nose. It is time for her to go. I apply steady backward pressure to the control column and lift her away from the sea. She leans forward heavily onto the air to pick up speed for easy flight. I see the swells of the Mediterranean passing in another world without effect below her nose. " Ten days after that departure from Malta, 'Frigate Bird 111' (VH-APG) put down on Sydney Harbour to be brought ashore at Rose Bay and made ready for her first 'Cruisebird' charter to Tahiti. Today if you want to see her you have to go to Le Bourget, to the Musee de L'Air. VH-APG was a genuine double decker with a curving staircase, rather stylish furnishings and seating for 36 passengers. The main entrance was on the starboard side, aft. Inside the door a little entrance hall led to a choice of three directions you could go. To the left was the aftermost cabin for five people with a door to the cavernous cargo hold further aft. Ahead the curved staircase led to the upper deck with seats for about fourteen. This cabin ran forward as far as the rear main spar. This meant that the front row of seats had virtually no view outside. It was a poor design feature. Other fit-outs on other Sandringhams had this space as a galley. Turning right on entering the boat a few steps led down to into the bar. This was an elegant little curved walnut affair that fitted more or less under the stairs. Forward of this were two more cabins, plus the galley and toilet. From the foremost cabin there was access to the bow and a ladder to the flight-deck. In the mooring compartment in the bow were stowed anchor, drogues, mooring bollard, fog bell and other nautical paraphenalia. Today, if you want to see any four-engined flying boat in Australia, you can't. Stupidly, disgracefully, we let the last one go in 1974. |
here is a sample of PG Taylor at his most lyrical, for contrast, if you like. In his book about his years with the Sandringham (which he christened 'Frigate Bird 111') he described the take-off from Malta graphically - Flying plays on the emotions. It can be frustrating, fatiguing, terrifying - and most delightful. The pilot who has not been completely exasperated, dead on his feet, frightened witless, or enthralled beyond words has few hours in his log. His times will come. There is something to be said for work that leaves vivid recollections. Once I flew copilot for a veteran finishing up his last week of a 37-year airline career. He soloed in the early 1920's, dusted cotton, barnstormed, and flew right seat in Fords with another airline before finding a home with us. He was a consummate pilot with 34,000 hours logged without scratching an airplane. He was also a great fellow to fly with. As we took position on the runway and waited, looking down at the 10,000 feet of concrete ahead, I wondered how many times before he had done it. What was he thinking now? I wanted to ask, but didn't. Perhaps he read my thoughts. "You know, he said, "this is just as much fun now as it ever was. Can you understand that?" I could. ............................................................ ....................................... |
Tall Tails of the South Pacific
Came home from work this evening, found a package from Lulu publishing. Not bad, 5 days from order to receive. Leaned on the kitchen counter, had a quick squiz at the first few of the 410 pages. An hour later, with my butt just about numb from leaning on the counter, I very reluctantly put it down. Simply an riveting read. Buy it.:D
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I second Jamair... just received my copy.
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Ordered mine yesterday.
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thank you!
What a great read.. You are Australia's own answer to Ernest Gann..
Thanks again.. |
"You are Australia's own answer to Ernest Gann.."
AGREED! |
Just ordered a copy :D
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Ordered my copy on Monday and received the "order despatched" notice this morning.
Hopefully, there will be little work done around Chez Cooda this weekend. :E :D |
Centurion. Thanks so much for the yarn, in fact it was a wake up call for me to read it. After 30 plus years in aviation I thought I had become a little jaded, and this from someone who has not spent a day in an airline dealing with all the unfortunate shenanigans that they do these days. But I now realise again that this is not so..... I'm blessed in our small corner of the profession. In fact, like me there is surely many on here that should put something back into our new up and comings.... It would be such a pity to lose the mentorship of fellow aviators from times gone that have so much to offer back. Never forget where you came from huh !
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Another sale.... It is the people that make the job the most rewarding after a while.... Tales like this remind me of that. Thank You
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