Most memorable passenger, or passengers you've carried..
Join Date: Mar 2007
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I flew Berlusconi from Prestwick to Gleneagles for the G8 in 2005. He was waring more makeup than most of the women I know.
My sister in-law is Italian - when she found out I had flown him and had not euthanized myself for the sake of her country - she said she would never forgive me. Thank goodness he resigned on Sat I might get a Christmas card this year
One of my colleagues at the time flew Putin and his entourage. The route from Prestwick was up the coast and then down the Clyde. When he got near Gare Loch he thought it would be funny to point out a military asset and told them 'on the left you can see in the distance Faslane our nuclear submarine base' to which one of the Putin's associates calmly replied 'Yes we know'.......
My sister in-law is Italian - when she found out I had flown him and had not euthanized myself for the sake of her country - she said she would never forgive me. Thank goodness he resigned on Sat I might get a Christmas card this year
One of my colleagues at the time flew Putin and his entourage. The route from Prestwick was up the coast and then down the Clyde. When he got near Gare Loch he thought it would be funny to point out a military asset and told them 'on the left you can see in the distance Faslane our nuclear submarine base' to which one of the Putin's associates calmly replied 'Yes we know'.......
Join Date: Feb 2006
Location: Ireland
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Yesterdays flight was a lovely lady in her early fifties from Dublin to the most northern tip of Donegal who was unable to travel by road due to terminal cancer. Flying her through the Donegal mountains was particularly poignant as she described how she used to climb them regularly.Her husband informed me that he had beaten the disease four years previously and now had to watch his wifes illness take its toll.
So I for one got one more lesson on the fact that health is indeed priority.
So I for one got one more lesson on the fact that health is indeed priority.
Join Date: Feb 2002
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Just Yesterday . . . and Antonio Banderas was with her . . . .
*
Then before that last week, Lula Da Silva and before that Bill Gates, George Bush, Julia Roberts, Julio Iglesias, and my 5 year old son . . . ;-)
*Then before that last week, Lula Da Silva and before that Bill Gates, George Bush, Julia Roberts, Julio Iglesias, and my 5 year old son . . . ;-)
Avoid imitations
Join Date: Nov 2000
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The most memorable pax is the one I'm flying today. He owns the aircraft and pays my salary.
Join Date: Nov 2001
Location: Norfolk
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Noisiest - Jon Bon Jovi and team to a gig. Then had to spend hours in a Winnebago behind the sound stage. Put headset on in the end!
Most affected me - an old guy for a joyride. It turned out that the last time he had been in an aeroplane was 1918 in a Sopwith Camel over the Western Front.
Nicest senior officer - Air Chief Marshal Sir Andrew Humphrey for some helicopter training, a really nice guy.
Most affected me - an old guy for a joyride. It turned out that the last time he had been in an aeroplane was 1918 in a Sopwith Camel over the Western Front.
Nicest senior officer - Air Chief Marshal Sir Andrew Humphrey for some helicopter training, a really nice guy.
Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: Plymouth, UK
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Most memorable passenger
Definitely my mum. She'd never flown before.
Moreover, I'd never carried a passenger before - this was right after my PPL, and I had only ever carried my instructor!
She was very excited for the entire five minutes while I wobbled over the valleys of Cumbria in an R22 - a big whoop as the ground fell away and a big hug after we landed.
Better still, someone was on hand with a video camera. What more could I want?
Moreover, I'd never carried a passenger before - this was right after my PPL, and I had only ever carried my instructor!
She was very excited for the entire five minutes while I wobbled over the valleys of Cumbria in an R22 - a big whoop as the ground fell away and a big hug after we landed.
Better still, someone was on hand with a video camera. What more could I want?
Join Date: Apr 2007
Location: Center of the Universe
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No one famous, but a memorable experience nevertheless. When I moved to a beautiful Vermont village a couple of years ago, some of the locals found out I am a helicopter pilot and asked if I would give them a ride. One spectacular October day I showed up with the helicopter to give rides to about 10 interested folks. On one flight, the ages ranged from 10 years old to 87, and all on this flight were relatives. We did a 30 minute senic tour during which the 87 year old, the unofficial matriarch of the village with family going back several generations, asked if we could fly over her house, which we did. Of all the passengers we carried that day, she had the biggest smile at the end of the flight. On the following Sunday in church, the minister asked members of the congregation what they had learned in the past week. This old gal said, "I learned that I could fly in a helicopter and live to tell about it." Sadly, two months later her house burned to the ground and she survived only because a local volunteer fireman decided to go straight to the fire rather than going to the firehouse first. After a long recovery, she is doing fine and wants to go flying again.
Last edited by EN48; 16th Nov 2011 at 15:04.
Just hijacking the thread ever so slightly: this year for the first time I volunteered to help with Project Propeller for the first time.
Frank, the late WW2 navigator I flew to Wickenby and back was a gentleman, and the stories from he and numerous others I met on the day were magnificent.
Okay, I flew there and back in a plank-wing. Needs must! However, I've little doubt that the project would be delighted to hear from any UK based rotary pilots who fancied volunteering.
G
Frank, the late WW2 navigator I flew to Wickenby and back was a gentleman, and the stories from he and numerous others I met on the day were magnificent.
Okay, I flew there and back in a plank-wing. Needs must! However, I've little doubt that the project would be delighted to hear from any UK based rotary pilots who fancied volunteering.
G
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smudge07, your sister-in-law isn't the only one who will never forgive you for that. Nevermind Berlusconi resigning last saturday, it's a matter of principles: when you have such opportunities, you shouldn't waste them.
By any chance, was Putin's associate wearing a military uniform? Might have been Lt. Danskiovich... "Yes, we know that..."
By any chance, was Putin's associate wearing a military uniform? Might have been Lt. Danskiovich... "Yes, we know that..."
Join Date: Oct 2000
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I flew the Queen Mum's hats from Castle of Mey to Aberdeen, in pursuit of the grand old Lady with a fishbone in her throat (in Lossie's other SAR cab).
The biggest problem was stopping a certain very old and senior Master from rummaging her luggage. Given the view from the cockpit of a Sea King to the cabin, I have no idea of the extent to which my orders were obeyed.
Sven
The biggest problem was stopping a certain very old and senior Master from rummaging her luggage. Given the view from the cockpit of a Sea King to the cabin, I have no idea of the extent to which my orders were obeyed.
Sven
Is the question the most memorable passenger or the most famous one? there is a big difference and often are the most famous ones, or should I rather say the "wanna be famous" are the most boring pricks ever flown with, especially wannabe rich and famous newly rich bankers and business men that thought they could buy the whole world, but that was more a "2007" thing and many of them vapourised in the crisis 
of the famous one I have recently met in my job, Liv Tyler, Ridley Scott, Paul Allen, Mr Napster, Yann Arthus Bertrand, Claudia Schiffer, Clint Eastwood and then few others that Im forgetting
One of the most memorable of all was an elderly lady in a wheelchair that decided to show up unexpected to her granddaughters wedding that was held two hours flight time away in the country site, never forget the looks one her family when we landed right next to the church's parking spot .
of the famous one I have recently met in my job, Liv Tyler, Ridley Scott, Paul Allen, Mr Napster, Yann Arthus Bertrand, Claudia Schiffer, Clint Eastwood and then few others that Im forgetting
One of the most memorable of all was an elderly lady in a wheelchair that decided to show up unexpected to her granddaughters wedding that was held two hours flight time away in the country site, never forget the looks one her family when we landed right next to the church's parking spot .
I have posted this before on a similar thread about two years ago.
Borneo mid sixties. Operating with a Whirlwind HC1 (S55 with a jet engine to you Americans) on the border with Indonesia. I was flying solo, no crewman, shuttling Ghurkhas rotating from an FOB called Pensiangan to our main base at Sepulot. Loading was simple: Hold up four fingers when you land and four Ghurkhas run in with their kit. One thumps your leg when they are ready and off you go. They tend to collect things so they would carry other packs apart from their army kit so allowing 220lbs each for a Ghurkha base transfer was about right.
I picked up the last stick, only three of them. They had a lot of stuff but weight wasn’t a problem so off I went. I had just settled in the cruise when this gibbon climbed up through the left hand footwell. He climbed onto the seat and looked at me. Not liking what he saw he turned and started to launch out through the port window. Just as he was going out he looked down and realised that he was a thousand feet above the trees so he grabbed the cyclic and pulled himself back in again. Now both of us were looking UP at the trees.
He was now terrified so he jumped for comfort to the nearest human, i.e.me. In a flash he was wrapped round my shoulders and head and trying to strangle me. I got him off and as I pushed him back to the other side two sets of brown hands poked through the floor to recover him. One hand got hold of a leg but little gibbon wasn’t interested. There are lots of things to grab hold of if you don’t want to go out through the floor. Cyclics, collectives, speed select levers, HP cocks and he was having a go at most of them.
There was nothing I could do. I had clamped the collective so I had a hand free to fend off his attentions to the switches and cocks on the centre console. He wasn’t interested in going down and his keeper couldn’t get him down. The only thing I could do was put it on the ground and sort it out then.
There was a clearing with a sandy river bank ahead that I had used before so I set up the descent. As be passed through two hundred the gibbon started to take an interest in the scenery and fortunately the blokes downstairs did too so things calmed down a bit.
It was quite peaceful until we touched down and then the gibbon shook himself free and bolted through the port window. There was a screech as he passed the jet pipe but then he disappeared on all fours into the trees at ten o’clock. Two nanoseconds later a Ghurkha rocketed after him with his Armalite and disappeared into the same trees. I was now stuck. I couldn’t shut down as in Borneo a river can go from zero to twenty feet of water in five minutes and I didn’t have enough fuel to wait very long. After a minute or so I managed to get the attention of one of the other passengers and got him to climb up the side of the aircraft so I could shout at him.
He didn’t speak English so I pointed in the last known position of his mate and held out my hands in a query fashion. He gave me a thumbs up, spun a finger and pointed upwards. I repeated his sign language and he nodded and gave another thumbs up. With that he climbed back into the cabin and thumped my leg to show that they were ready. Not a lot I could do so I took off and flew to Sepulot.
We were living in the Ghurkha officer’s basher so I collared OC HQ Coy and told him what had happened. I described where I had left him but he wasn’t concerned. “He’ll be back tomorrow,” and he was. Complete with gibbon..
Borneo mid sixties. Operating with a Whirlwind HC1 (S55 with a jet engine to you Americans) on the border with Indonesia. I was flying solo, no crewman, shuttling Ghurkhas rotating from an FOB called Pensiangan to our main base at Sepulot. Loading was simple: Hold up four fingers when you land and four Ghurkhas run in with their kit. One thumps your leg when they are ready and off you go. They tend to collect things so they would carry other packs apart from their army kit so allowing 220lbs each for a Ghurkha base transfer was about right.
I picked up the last stick, only three of them. They had a lot of stuff but weight wasn’t a problem so off I went. I had just settled in the cruise when this gibbon climbed up through the left hand footwell. He climbed onto the seat and looked at me. Not liking what he saw he turned and started to launch out through the port window. Just as he was going out he looked down and realised that he was a thousand feet above the trees so he grabbed the cyclic and pulled himself back in again. Now both of us were looking UP at the trees.
He was now terrified so he jumped for comfort to the nearest human, i.e.me. In a flash he was wrapped round my shoulders and head and trying to strangle me. I got him off and as I pushed him back to the other side two sets of brown hands poked through the floor to recover him. One hand got hold of a leg but little gibbon wasn’t interested. There are lots of things to grab hold of if you don’t want to go out through the floor. Cyclics, collectives, speed select levers, HP cocks and he was having a go at most of them.
There was nothing I could do. I had clamped the collective so I had a hand free to fend off his attentions to the switches and cocks on the centre console. He wasn’t interested in going down and his keeper couldn’t get him down. The only thing I could do was put it on the ground and sort it out then.
There was a clearing with a sandy river bank ahead that I had used before so I set up the descent. As be passed through two hundred the gibbon started to take an interest in the scenery and fortunately the blokes downstairs did too so things calmed down a bit.
It was quite peaceful until we touched down and then the gibbon shook himself free and bolted through the port window. There was a screech as he passed the jet pipe but then he disappeared on all fours into the trees at ten o’clock. Two nanoseconds later a Ghurkha rocketed after him with his Armalite and disappeared into the same trees. I was now stuck. I couldn’t shut down as in Borneo a river can go from zero to twenty feet of water in five minutes and I didn’t have enough fuel to wait very long. After a minute or so I managed to get the attention of one of the other passengers and got him to climb up the side of the aircraft so I could shout at him.
He didn’t speak English so I pointed in the last known position of his mate and held out my hands in a query fashion. He gave me a thumbs up, spun a finger and pointed upwards. I repeated his sign language and he nodded and gave another thumbs up. With that he climbed back into the cabin and thumped my leg to show that they were ready. Not a lot I could do so I took off and flew to Sepulot.
We were living in the Ghurkha officer’s basher so I collared OC HQ Coy and told him what had happened. I described where I had left him but he wasn’t concerned. “He’ll be back tomorrow,” and he was. Complete with gibbon..
Avoid imitations
Join Date: Nov 2000
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Crikey to begin with I thought you were referring to a Ghurka as a gibbon!
Strewth, the most racist post ever seen on PPRuNe, I said to myself.
Strewth, the most racist post ever seen on PPRuNe, I said to myself.
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As with some of the earlier posts, most memorable doesn't have to be most famous and, while there were a few "names" along the way, two flights involving quite ordinary people stand out clearly in my memory.
One involved a lad of about 7, terminally ill, who was taken on a trip with his mother in 1996. Of course, there were a couple of adult hangers on came as well! So, I picked up the 206 into the hover and the little lad, seated in the middle between his mum and his aunt, got quite excited by it all as I manoeuvred around the ramp and taxied out for take-off. However, as we got airborne he couldn't see anything out of the windows and lost interest. As we got overhead where he lived, it turned into an adults-only enjoying the view trip while he concentrated on eating some sweets he had. So, on a hunch, I cut it short and went back to hangar.
However, instead of landing straight on, I went to the open grass area adjoining the ramp from where the lad could still see all the buildings and the hangars and proceeeded to do spot turns, sidewards and backwards and 360 turns while taxiing slowy along. With the adults now reduced to holding on to their seats, the little lad was thrilled and whooped with delight until I set it down.
He passed away a few weeks later.
The other involved a seriously ill woman who couldn't travel by road to her daughter's wedding in September, 1997. Doctors agreed to the helicopter transfer which would take about an hour and a half with a stop en route. We got to the hotel and landed on a thru'penny bit of clear area out front to be greeted by over a hundred assembled family members and other guests who cheered loudly and applauded as we took her out of the aircraft. The heli was used to bring her to a neighbouring vilage for the wedding the next day and then back to the hospital. To my embarrassment, I was treated like some kind of conquering hero and invited to all the festivities the following day.
She died a few days after getting back to the hospital.
All very sad, of course, but they stand out in memory and reminders, if they were needed, that we are all invariably far better off than we think we are and our troubles few compared to what they could be.
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One involved a lad of about 7, terminally ill, who was taken on a trip with his mother in 1996. Of course, there were a couple of adult hangers on came as well! So, I picked up the 206 into the hover and the little lad, seated in the middle between his mum and his aunt, got quite excited by it all as I manoeuvred around the ramp and taxied out for take-off. However, as we got airborne he couldn't see anything out of the windows and lost interest. As we got overhead where he lived, it turned into an adults-only enjoying the view trip while he concentrated on eating some sweets he had. So, on a hunch, I cut it short and went back to hangar.
However, instead of landing straight on, I went to the open grass area adjoining the ramp from where the lad could still see all the buildings and the hangars and proceeeded to do spot turns, sidewards and backwards and 360 turns while taxiing slowy along. With the adults now reduced to holding on to their seats, the little lad was thrilled and whooped with delight until I set it down.
He passed away a few weeks later.
The other involved a seriously ill woman who couldn't travel by road to her daughter's wedding in September, 1997. Doctors agreed to the helicopter transfer which would take about an hour and a half with a stop en route. We got to the hotel and landed on a thru'penny bit of clear area out front to be greeted by over a hundred assembled family members and other guests who cheered loudly and applauded as we took her out of the aircraft. The heli was used to bring her to a neighbouring vilage for the wedding the next day and then back to the hospital. To my embarrassment, I was treated like some kind of conquering hero and invited to all the festivities the following day.
She died a few days after getting back to the hospital.
All very sad, of course, but they stand out in memory and reminders, if they were needed, that we are all invariably far better off than we think we are and our troubles few compared to what they could be.
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