Bristow Photos
Ferry Land
Ferry Land
Many off us have faced the interesting challenge of ferrying aircraft by land, sea or air. I remember one of my Cyprus 412s arriving by lorry at Redhill 11 years ago....here are a few others......
There are many reasons why helicopters are moved about by lorry :
- It may have been damaged in an accident and needs to be transported to a place of repair.
- It may need transporting to the docks, in kit form, for an onward journey by ship.
- Scrapped or out of "useful life" machines need moving to museums or breakers yards.
- etc etc.
Below are just a few examples of the jobs carried out by Redhill's transport team.
29th April 1986.
Westland Widgeon from Warden Park school, Cuckfield, Sussex to British Rotorcraft Museum, Weston-Super-Mare, Avon.
13th May 1986.
Westland Whirlwind, ex Warden Park school, on its way to East Midlands Aero Park, Donington, Derby.
6th March 1986.
Westland Wessex about to board the Red Funnel ferry at Southampton on its way to Cowes, Isle of Wight. Probably on its way to the breakers yard. Sad.
13th March 1986.
Bell 212 arriving at Redhill's main hangar after a pick up from Tilbury Docks.
April 1993.
Transportation of Aerospatiale SA321F Super Frelon from Marignane to The International Helicopter Museum,Weston-Super-Mare.
At the time this was probably the largest helicopter to be moved by road in Europe and took a total of ten days.
Early nineties.
A couple of Bell 212s departing Redhill on their way to a UN contract in Somalia.
"Rotor Runner II" and "Blade Runner II" - 1999.
"RR II" has a Tiger on board.
Many off us have faced the interesting challenge of ferrying aircraft by land, sea or air. I remember one of my Cyprus 412s arriving by lorry at Redhill 11 years ago....here are a few others......
There are many reasons why helicopters are moved about by lorry :
- It may have been damaged in an accident and needs to be transported to a place of repair.
- It may need transporting to the docks, in kit form, for an onward journey by ship.
- Scrapped or out of "useful life" machines need moving to museums or breakers yards.
- etc etc.
Below are just a few examples of the jobs carried out by Redhill's transport team.
29th April 1986.
Westland Widgeon from Warden Park school, Cuckfield, Sussex to British Rotorcraft Museum, Weston-Super-Mare, Avon.
13th May 1986.
Westland Whirlwind, ex Warden Park school, on its way to East Midlands Aero Park, Donington, Derby.
6th March 1986.
Westland Wessex about to board the Red Funnel ferry at Southampton on its way to Cowes, Isle of Wight. Probably on its way to the breakers yard. Sad.
13th March 1986.
Bell 212 arriving at Redhill's main hangar after a pick up from Tilbury Docks.
April 1993.
Transportation of Aerospatiale SA321F Super Frelon from Marignane to The International Helicopter Museum,Weston-Super-Mare.
At the time this was probably the largest helicopter to be moved by road in Europe and took a total of ten days.
Early nineties.
A couple of Bell 212s departing Redhill on their way to a UN contract in Somalia.
"Rotor Runner II" and "Blade Runner II" - 1999.
"RR II" has a Tiger on board.
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Thought you might have included the S61 wreck being delivered to the Redhill hangar for rebuild or are you saving that for the Redhill engineering section?
Seem to recall Heli1 making mention of this craft at some point in the past.
Look forward to seeing it when eventually I get to Weston.
When the 212's arrived in Somalia....we discovered the one thing missing was the "Jesus Nut" Socket.....but I was able to scrounge one off the USMC Helicopter Detachment up the road.
The look on the Gunnery Sergeant's face as I explained why I needed one was a Kodak Moment! Answering his question as to exactly "Why" we were short the Socket was a bit embarrassing but got much easier when I explained I was but a mere Yank working for a British company got me more than a bit of sympathy and assistance. He later gave us really good support in all manner of ways....Helicopter folks being Helicopter folks no matter the clothes we wear.
The look on the Gunnery Sergeant's face as I explained why I needed one was a Kodak Moment! Answering his question as to exactly "Why" we were short the Socket was a bit embarrassing but got much easier when I explained I was but a mere Yank working for a British company got me more than a bit of sympathy and assistance. He later gave us really good support in all manner of ways....Helicopter folks being Helicopter folks no matter the clothes we wear.
Great to see those transport pix. Alan and later Bryan Collins were great supporters of the BRM/ Helicopter Museum and we built a great rapport with the very professional transport team. The most interesting move was moving the Hind from East Germany to Weston super Mare.
We were told to reduce the height to 13ft 9in as I recall to fit on their especial low trailer.We did that but when the trucks arrived they discovered the bridges were lower than in the west.....Our team had to work through the night to reduce the height still further and to avoid the convoy missing the booked ferry back from the Hook of Holland. Great memories and many thanks to those guys.it was a great shame when the company later closed down the transport department and outsourced.Thos guys really knew what they were doing and we had absolute trust in them. Thanks wherever you are.
We were told to reduce the height to 13ft 9in as I recall to fit on their especial low trailer.We did that but when the trucks arrived they discovered the bridges were lower than in the west.....Our team had to work through the night to reduce the height still further and to avoid the convoy missing the booked ferry back from the Hook of Holland. Great memories and many thanks to those guys.it was a great shame when the company later closed down the transport department and outsourced.Thos guys really knew what they were doing and we had absolute trust in them. Thanks wherever you are.
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SASless story reminds me of the time myself and Ringo Renno went to a port in Belgium to unload a Bristow 212 from a ship. We got it assembled and flown off in the normal days work, but there was also a 212 from another company in Saudi Arabia, on its way to an aviation company in Germany for a check. The guy from Germany arrived to unload this aircraft, dressed in a suit, carrying a brief case, and with no tools.
After trying to borrow tools from us all day, we took pity on him, and after we had finished the BHL job, we quickly dismantled his aircraft and put it on a truck for him.
That evening a lot of international beer was drunk.
After trying to borrow tools from us all day, we took pity on him, and after we had finished the BHL job, we quickly dismantled his aircraft and put it on a truck for him.
That evening a lot of international beer was drunk.
Kazkhstan
Kazakhstan
Dave B .....timely anecdote mentioning Ringo......a legend in his own lifetime.....here he is in Kazakhstan, a bit over dressed.......where is he now?
Had to change the tense in this one as it was up and running when I wrote the original.
Provision of two Bell 212 helicopters to support OKIOC'S (Offshore Kazakhstan International Oil Consortium) offshore exploration activities.
The contract was a joint venture between Bristow and a local operator, Atyrau Aue Zholy, with Bristows supplying two Bell 212s plus crews and A.U.Z. providing a Tupolev Tu 134 plus back up. The operation was based at Atyrau and as can be seen on the map many atlases still show the old soviet name, Guryev.
Early drilling results were very successful threatening to be one of the biggest oil finds in history.
Taken June 1998, when the operation commenced, the Bristow hangar being the big one on the right. The airport is 30Nm from the North coast of the Caspian Sea, about 5 miles outside town.
The hangar.
Work rota was 6 weeks on and 4 weeks off with on-site accommodation being in the form of rented apartments in town.
Bell 212, G-BIXV, shortly after its arrival at Atyrau. G-BFER was the other.
Rig was about 1 hour round trip with the 212s averaging about 60 hours per month. One aircraft was used on the contract and the second was a standby SAR machine.
XV in V.I.P. fit ready for Presidential visit. Note the carpet!
Eric the cat clearly approves.
Engineering staff also in V.I.P. fit ready for presidential visit.
The Tu 134 flew from Atyrau to Budapest twice weekly taking 3.75 hrs, plus ad-hoc internal flights for the oil company. The operation of this aircraft was part of the contract requirement although the maintenance was not. Assistance was provided as required.
Natalies
Dave B .....timely anecdote mentioning Ringo......a legend in his own lifetime.....here he is in Kazakhstan, a bit over dressed.......where is he now?
Had to change the tense in this one as it was up and running when I wrote the original.
Provision of two Bell 212 helicopters to support OKIOC'S (Offshore Kazakhstan International Oil Consortium) offshore exploration activities.
The contract was a joint venture between Bristow and a local operator, Atyrau Aue Zholy, with Bristows supplying two Bell 212s plus crews and A.U.Z. providing a Tupolev Tu 134 plus back up. The operation was based at Atyrau and as can be seen on the map many atlases still show the old soviet name, Guryev.
Early drilling results were very successful threatening to be one of the biggest oil finds in history.
Taken June 1998, when the operation commenced, the Bristow hangar being the big one on the right. The airport is 30Nm from the North coast of the Caspian Sea, about 5 miles outside town.
The hangar.
Work rota was 6 weeks on and 4 weeks off with on-site accommodation being in the form of rented apartments in town.
Bell 212, G-BIXV, shortly after its arrival at Atyrau. G-BFER was the other.
Rig was about 1 hour round trip with the 212s averaging about 60 hours per month. One aircraft was used on the contract and the second was a standby SAR machine.
XV in V.I.P. fit ready for Presidential visit. Note the carpet!
Eric the cat clearly approves.
Engineering staff also in V.I.P. fit ready for presidential visit.
The Tu 134 flew from Atyrau to Budapest twice weekly taking 3.75 hrs, plus ad-hoc internal flights for the oil company. The operation of this aircraft was part of the contract requirement although the maintenance was not. Assistance was provided as required.
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Bristows Atyrau
Memories flooding back......... spent a couple of months in 2002 freelancing for Bristows driving the 'temporary' S76 G-BJFL in Atyrau. Great bunch of guys and girls to work with. Arrived in the February, daily temperatures of -20C and a frozen northern Caspian, one could have walked to the rigs over the ice! Two months later when Spring had sprung, +15C was the norm and all the white stuff long gone.
As well as offshore support occasionally the odd ad hoc charter would come our way, such as the seal surveys we would do down to the south of the Kashagan Field. Remember flying over what used to be an old Soviet era gunnery range, littered with numerous carcasses of expired Russian ships. They sat lying on their sides, targeted by their air force for practice in years gone by, now just left as rusting hulks. Rather a sad sight in a strange way.
In the picture taken from the atlas above, the Aral Sea east of the Caspian is virtually no longer, having been drained by man for agricultural purposes. Very bizarre to sea old ships beached in what appears a desert with no water in sight.
Best story of my short stay in Atyrau came from one of the Russian co-pilots I flew with. In a previous life he had flown Mil 8s in the area, and one day had a large buzzardy type bird come through the windscreen during the cruise. Being made of solid stuff the impact didn't kill the bird, merely winged it on its journey between both pilots and into the rear of the cabin. Somewhat shocked and annoyed at its surprise arrival into the Mil, it then preceded to attack the passengers. The crew got the aircraft onto the ground, and the bird lived out its days hopping around the hangar being fed by the engineers........... You couldn't make it up!
As well as offshore support occasionally the odd ad hoc charter would come our way, such as the seal surveys we would do down to the south of the Kashagan Field. Remember flying over what used to be an old Soviet era gunnery range, littered with numerous carcasses of expired Russian ships. They sat lying on their sides, targeted by their air force for practice in years gone by, now just left as rusting hulks. Rather a sad sight in a strange way.
In the picture taken from the atlas above, the Aral Sea east of the Caspian is virtually no longer, having been drained by man for agricultural purposes. Very bizarre to sea old ships beached in what appears a desert with no water in sight.
Best story of my short stay in Atyrau came from one of the Russian co-pilots I flew with. In a previous life he had flown Mil 8s in the area, and one day had a large buzzardy type bird come through the windscreen during the cruise. Being made of solid stuff the impact didn't kill the bird, merely winged it on its journey between both pilots and into the rear of the cabin. Somewhat shocked and annoyed at its surprise arrival into the Mil, it then preceded to attack the passengers. The crew got the aircraft onto the ground, and the bird lived out its days hopping around the hangar being fed by the engineers........... You couldn't make it up!
Last edited by Plank Cap; 3rd Nov 2013 at 18:26.
AZDC is born
TTO......were you referring to this one...?
1971. Ex Elivie S61N (post crash). Bristows bought the wreck, ferried it to Redhill and after some extensive work produced a North Sea work horse.
Another Bristow legend, Jean Dennell, overseeing the arrival of what was to become G-AZDC.
Trenches were dug and a cut out made in the hangar frontage to enable the semi-finished machine to escape the confines of the hangar!
G-AZDC was born.
The pictures of the old machines seemed to have such clean lines.
The days before the multitude of safety mods and avionic systems.
22 antennae on my Cyprus 412s.....
1971. Ex Elivie S61N (post crash). Bristows bought the wreck, ferried it to Redhill and after some extensive work produced a North Sea work horse.
Another Bristow legend, Jean Dennell, overseeing the arrival of what was to become G-AZDC.
Trenches were dug and a cut out made in the hangar frontage to enable the semi-finished machine to escape the confines of the hangar!
G-AZDC was born.
The pictures of the old machines seemed to have such clean lines.
The days before the multitude of safety mods and avionic systems.
22 antennae on my Cyprus 412s.....
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Thanks Dave, they're the the ones. I remember seeing them in your old website & I was shocked that such a wreck could be returned to the skies. I always knew Bristow engineering was good but this must have been a monumental task.
She's still flying but 5' shorter than in these photos!
She's still flying but 5' shorter than in these photos!
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Kosovo
Kosovo
Not much operational/contract info on this one.
G-BALZ in Dubrovnik , Croatia with Mi8 operated by Air Chayka from Ukraine.
G-BALZ on finals into Belgrade Airport , Serbia.
G-BALZ at U.N.helibase , Pristina , Kosovo with Capt. Robin Ball, Capt.Andy Rice , Eng.Chris Atkinson and Eng.Ian Shields.
Taken after a night mission using FLIR to check the mountainous Albanian border for smuggling activity where many arms/drugs and people etc cross in the hours of darkness. The pilots in the cockpit are Ivan Maritz and Don Burton.
Underslung ops in Kosovo with G-BALZ.
Flying are Jamie Jamieson, Peter Walker and Steve Armstrong with Chris Atkinson "hooking up" and Eric Greensmith on marshalling.
Not much operational/contract info on this one.
G-BALZ in Dubrovnik , Croatia with Mi8 operated by Air Chayka from Ukraine.
G-BALZ on finals into Belgrade Airport , Serbia.
G-BALZ at U.N.helibase , Pristina , Kosovo with Capt. Robin Ball, Capt.Andy Rice , Eng.Chris Atkinson and Eng.Ian Shields.
Taken after a night mission using FLIR to check the mountainous Albanian border for smuggling activity where many arms/drugs and people etc cross in the hours of darkness. The pilots in the cockpit are Ivan Maritz and Don Burton.
Underslung ops in Kosovo with G-BALZ.
Flying are Jamie Jamieson, Peter Walker and Steve Armstrong with Chris Atkinson "hooking up" and Eric Greensmith on marshalling.
Malaysia
Malaysia 1
Getting there..........
I've tweaked out the names should any of this be illegal!!! But as it was 43 years ago I guess all this sort of stuff was pretty common place. Some of these epic ferry flights needed an element of improvisation to actually make it to the final destination.........
The following ferry flight was extracted from an article by KR.
Ferry Flight Redhill to Kuantan (Malaya) Sept '70 ( Wessex G-AVNE)
I arrived back at Redhill to be told that there had been a hang up in visas and the aircraft was not ready and there was still discussion as to who the pilot would be. There was only one thing for it another quiet fortnight lounging around in "The Mill House Hotel" (Thank you Alan)
Eventually everything was sorted in true Bristow fashion and I was re-united with Wessex G-AVNE and introduced to the pilot BB M.B.E. and we set course for Gatwick for customs clearance. The aircraft had been fitted with overload tanks both internal and external and had no amount of "junk" in the back. In truth it was "slightly" over weight if fully fuelled so we took off from Gatwick with only half fuel. The idea was to head for Kuantan Malaya with a "few" stops in between.
Just as we were about to take off from Gatwick the aviation press, "Flight" and "Helicopter World" who had missed us at Redhill, collared us. B wasn't keen to talk to them and passed me off as the captain as we were both dressed in "civvies" I was left to do the talking with the result was that I am credited with flying the journey by the press. We lifted off for Tousous-le-Noble in France and B asked over the intercom whether I was one of Bristow's flying fitters and I had to admit that I was not. I had only recently left the Air force and I didn't have any chance to get any stick time in. Little did I realise what I was about to encounter.
In reply to my negative reply B said if you think that I am going to fly this bloody thing all the way to Malaya you're wrong. There were no flight stabilisation systems in Bristow's Wessex at that time and they took a bit of handling when heavy and at altitude. We landed in France with an escort of light aircraft who were very inquisitive and you would have thought that they had never seen a helicopter. We took of from Tousous-le Noble with a full fuel load and the only way we could get off was to taxi out to the runway and do a rolling take off (you can't do that on skids, thank god for wheels). After about an hour of flying, with B scribbling on his kneepad, he announced that we would miss out the stop at Lyons and go straight to Nice. I asked him how we were going to do that and he explained that if we flew single engine all the way we would have enough fuel. We had a dispensation to fly single engine on one of the legs in Iran from the A.R.B. (yes it wasn't the C.A.A. then) but not elsewhere but B's theory was it was better to try it out over a relatively populated area than over a mountainous desert area so he shut one engine down instructing me in the art of relighting it should he be involved with any emergency. His next communication was "Come on then it's your turn to fly" so I had my first flying lesson in an overweight Wessex, flying on one engine, and with no stabilisation system, a very reasonable introduction I thought.
We entered the Rhone valley at the top of the mountains with the intention of following it down to the sea and on to Nice and just as the mountains started to loom higher and higher on each side the fog and mist rolled down on top of us. There was no option but to set the aircraft down on the side of the mountain. Before doing this, B who by now had contact with Nice, sent a radio message to say we were landing at 3000 ft and wound the trailing aerial in and set the aircraft down with me hanging out of one window and him out the other. It was a textbook landing on sloping ground, amongst the pine trees very nearly requiring a change of underwear.
The mist lifted and we shot up and away extended the trailing aerial only to find the HF saying that Nice was about to launch a search for a lost aircraft. Nice hadn't realised that we were a helicopter and thought we had crashed at 3000ft. As we arrived towards the bottom of the valley the mist came down again and obscured everything but by this time B had ADF contact with Nice. He decided to head out towards the sea until the ADF needle indicated we were not over land and then proceeded to descend with me hanging out the window to look for the sea and, once seen, we headed for the beach and as soon as we saw it, landed. It turned out to be Marseille beach and as soon as the mist cleared we lifted off for Nice and a well-earned beer in a top class hotel (thanks again Alan) and thought about the days exploits. As I went to sleep I thought well if that is the first day what was the rest of the journey going to be like.
Next day we took of for Italy followed by Greece and Turkey and it was not until we arrived at our departure point in Turkey to leave for Iran that the trouble started. We had inadvertently landed in a military airfield whose name I forget when we should have landed at the civilian airfield running parallel in the next valley 2 miles away. This caused such a commotion as they were just about to start an air show for a visiting general and we were immediately suspected as being spies and were summoned to the control tower. At the control tower B managed to half talk his way out of it and the authorities said that they would refuel us if Istanbul gave permission but due to the communications problems in Turkey it would take until next day to get it. So we were driven to a hotel, had our passports removed, and we were virtually put under house arrest until next day so there was nothing else to do but spend some more of Alan's money sampling the local brew. We were picked up by the police next morning and driven to the airport refuelled and departed for Tehran. After an overnight stop in Tehran and a few more stops in Iran we headed for Pakistan doing the longest leg of the trip.
Our destination was a place in Pakistan called Pasni which is the most isolated place in the world being in the middle of the largest salt flats in the world and by the time we landed B leapt out of the aircraft jumping for joy shouting that he was the first person in the world to keep a Wessex in the air for almost FOUR HOURS, a feat not beaten until this day. All I can say is the fuel gauge was not indicating when he shut down. We would have celebrated with a beer but Pakistan being strictly Muslim there was no chance. That night we made Karachi and as Pakistan, at that time, had limited entry to foreigners we had to stay in designated hotels and could only spend "Tourist Rupees" which you could not change back when you left. The upside was that the Hotel sold beer as there were only foreigners staying in the hotel so once again we had to spend some of "Alan's" money.
It was all pretty mundane across northern India until we went to start up at Luknow when the No1 engine started but would not lift off. Hmmmm!!!! It was obviously a computer failure and we didn't have a spare so the old K R logic cut in. I wound the ground idle up as high as I dare and bypassed the lift off sequence of the computer, something that Rolls Royce says is impossible to do but they weren't stuck in the middle of India with a sick engine, anyway it continued to work all the way through Burma, Thailand, through Malaya to Kuantan where upon arrival the computer was changed.
The total time travelling was 14 days with a flight time of about 75 hrs.
Getting there..........
I've tweaked out the names should any of this be illegal!!! But as it was 43 years ago I guess all this sort of stuff was pretty common place. Some of these epic ferry flights needed an element of improvisation to actually make it to the final destination.........
The following ferry flight was extracted from an article by KR.
Ferry Flight Redhill to Kuantan (Malaya) Sept '70 ( Wessex G-AVNE)
I arrived back at Redhill to be told that there had been a hang up in visas and the aircraft was not ready and there was still discussion as to who the pilot would be. There was only one thing for it another quiet fortnight lounging around in "The Mill House Hotel" (Thank you Alan)
Eventually everything was sorted in true Bristow fashion and I was re-united with Wessex G-AVNE and introduced to the pilot BB M.B.E. and we set course for Gatwick for customs clearance. The aircraft had been fitted with overload tanks both internal and external and had no amount of "junk" in the back. In truth it was "slightly" over weight if fully fuelled so we took off from Gatwick with only half fuel. The idea was to head for Kuantan Malaya with a "few" stops in between.
Just as we were about to take off from Gatwick the aviation press, "Flight" and "Helicopter World" who had missed us at Redhill, collared us. B wasn't keen to talk to them and passed me off as the captain as we were both dressed in "civvies" I was left to do the talking with the result was that I am credited with flying the journey by the press. We lifted off for Tousous-le-Noble in France and B asked over the intercom whether I was one of Bristow's flying fitters and I had to admit that I was not. I had only recently left the Air force and I didn't have any chance to get any stick time in. Little did I realise what I was about to encounter.
In reply to my negative reply B said if you think that I am going to fly this bloody thing all the way to Malaya you're wrong. There were no flight stabilisation systems in Bristow's Wessex at that time and they took a bit of handling when heavy and at altitude. We landed in France with an escort of light aircraft who were very inquisitive and you would have thought that they had never seen a helicopter. We took of from Tousous-le Noble with a full fuel load and the only way we could get off was to taxi out to the runway and do a rolling take off (you can't do that on skids, thank god for wheels). After about an hour of flying, with B scribbling on his kneepad, he announced that we would miss out the stop at Lyons and go straight to Nice. I asked him how we were going to do that and he explained that if we flew single engine all the way we would have enough fuel. We had a dispensation to fly single engine on one of the legs in Iran from the A.R.B. (yes it wasn't the C.A.A. then) but not elsewhere but B's theory was it was better to try it out over a relatively populated area than over a mountainous desert area so he shut one engine down instructing me in the art of relighting it should he be involved with any emergency. His next communication was "Come on then it's your turn to fly" so I had my first flying lesson in an overweight Wessex, flying on one engine, and with no stabilisation system, a very reasonable introduction I thought.
We entered the Rhone valley at the top of the mountains with the intention of following it down to the sea and on to Nice and just as the mountains started to loom higher and higher on each side the fog and mist rolled down on top of us. There was no option but to set the aircraft down on the side of the mountain. Before doing this, B who by now had contact with Nice, sent a radio message to say we were landing at 3000 ft and wound the trailing aerial in and set the aircraft down with me hanging out of one window and him out the other. It was a textbook landing on sloping ground, amongst the pine trees very nearly requiring a change of underwear.
The mist lifted and we shot up and away extended the trailing aerial only to find the HF saying that Nice was about to launch a search for a lost aircraft. Nice hadn't realised that we were a helicopter and thought we had crashed at 3000ft. As we arrived towards the bottom of the valley the mist came down again and obscured everything but by this time B had ADF contact with Nice. He decided to head out towards the sea until the ADF needle indicated we were not over land and then proceeded to descend with me hanging out the window to look for the sea and, once seen, we headed for the beach and as soon as we saw it, landed. It turned out to be Marseille beach and as soon as the mist cleared we lifted off for Nice and a well-earned beer in a top class hotel (thanks again Alan) and thought about the days exploits. As I went to sleep I thought well if that is the first day what was the rest of the journey going to be like.
Next day we took of for Italy followed by Greece and Turkey and it was not until we arrived at our departure point in Turkey to leave for Iran that the trouble started. We had inadvertently landed in a military airfield whose name I forget when we should have landed at the civilian airfield running parallel in the next valley 2 miles away. This caused such a commotion as they were just about to start an air show for a visiting general and we were immediately suspected as being spies and were summoned to the control tower. At the control tower B managed to half talk his way out of it and the authorities said that they would refuel us if Istanbul gave permission but due to the communications problems in Turkey it would take until next day to get it. So we were driven to a hotel, had our passports removed, and we were virtually put under house arrest until next day so there was nothing else to do but spend some more of Alan's money sampling the local brew. We were picked up by the police next morning and driven to the airport refuelled and departed for Tehran. After an overnight stop in Tehran and a few more stops in Iran we headed for Pakistan doing the longest leg of the trip.
Our destination was a place in Pakistan called Pasni which is the most isolated place in the world being in the middle of the largest salt flats in the world and by the time we landed B leapt out of the aircraft jumping for joy shouting that he was the first person in the world to keep a Wessex in the air for almost FOUR HOURS, a feat not beaten until this day. All I can say is the fuel gauge was not indicating when he shut down. We would have celebrated with a beer but Pakistan being strictly Muslim there was no chance. That night we made Karachi and as Pakistan, at that time, had limited entry to foreigners we had to stay in designated hotels and could only spend "Tourist Rupees" which you could not change back when you left. The upside was that the Hotel sold beer as there were only foreigners staying in the hotel so once again we had to spend some of "Alan's" money.
It was all pretty mundane across northern India until we went to start up at Luknow when the No1 engine started but would not lift off. Hmmmm!!!! It was obviously a computer failure and we didn't have a spare so the old K R logic cut in. I wound the ground idle up as high as I dare and bypassed the lift off sequence of the computer, something that Rolls Royce says is impossible to do but they weren't stuck in the middle of India with a sick engine, anyway it continued to work all the way through Burma, Thailand, through Malaya to Kuantan where upon arrival the computer was changed.
The total time travelling was 14 days with a flight time of about 75 hrs.
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BRINDISI OP S76 1996
I did the ferry flight out to Brindisi and stayed on for a month whilst the Italians did their crew training and then started the flying to the rig, which you could see from the airfield. Kev Smith came out and took over from me until the operation closed.
I then returned a year later with Helitalia(BHL) to look after a AB412. However the weather was so bad we hardly flew, so a couple of months of R&R basically.
Our relationship with Helitalia was to carry over to the next year when I was sent to Ravenna(Ancona) to look after one of the ex Hong Kong Aux Airforce S76's, very fickle beast. You had to start #1 engine first or you couldnt start #2. We had greenies out for a couple of months to try and sort it - we never did. Dave Pridmore(RIP) took over from me until completion of the contract when the machine went to Florence for a rebuild of the tail.
I enjoyed Italy, very laid back and great food. The red vino was very pleasant as well.
I then returned a year later with Helitalia(BHL) to look after a AB412. However the weather was so bad we hardly flew, so a couple of months of R&R basically.
Our relationship with Helitalia was to carry over to the next year when I was sent to Ravenna(Ancona) to look after one of the ex Hong Kong Aux Airforce S76's, very fickle beast. You had to start #1 engine first or you couldnt start #2. We had greenies out for a couple of months to try and sort it - we never did. Dave Pridmore(RIP) took over from me until completion of the contract when the machine went to Florence for a rebuild of the tail.
I enjoyed Italy, very laid back and great food. The red vino was very pleasant as well.
This is G_BIXV today:
Sorry---could not resist......that was a photoshop job to mess with one of my pilots. This is the real pic:
Her new role is as a fire fighting helicopter operated by Redding Air Service, she was on contract in Oregon for the last 4 years, the new contracts have yet to be awarded:
Sorry---could not resist......that was a photoshop job to mess with one of my pilots. This is the real pic:
Her new role is as a fire fighting helicopter operated by Redding Air Service, she was on contract in Oregon for the last 4 years, the new contracts have yet to be awarded:
Join Date: Nov 2004
Location: Devon, UK
Age: 80
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Ferry flight - Redhiil to Singapore : G-AWOX - July 1971
Dave Ed - I think I posted something on this ferry flight on the old Skyweaver website. Like BB, we had an eventful trip and even managed to fly for 4 hours 25 mins on one leg. - is that a record for the Wessie?
I wrote this up for my family as part of an autobiography so forgive the style!
"On June 30th, we finally set off from Redhill on what was planned as a two week flight to Singapore. JH, being senior to me was the aircraft Captain and we flew most of the trip down to India swopping seats; although when we got into the really nasty weather, as an ex Navy IR instructor, I seemed to do most of the flying!! In the cabin we also had NO, a bearded engineer who was not only very talented but also good company. After clearing customs at Gatwick, we set off across the Channel for our first night stop at Lyon. However bad weather forced us to make an unscheduled landing at Chateauneuf – a great start to our trip. The helicopter had been fitted with a cabin fuel tank to cope with some of the longer legs, and on a couple of occasions, we had to shut down one engine to conserve fuel which enabled us to fly for 4˝ hours.
From Lyon, we flew on to Naples, Athens, Izmir, El Azig, Tabriz and Teheran. Navigation in those days was almost medieval compared with modern day sat nav. We had an ADF, a basic VOR/ILS system and VHF and HF radio. There was no autopilot, it was hands on all the way, and when we were out of range of the usual nav aids, we were back to following a map! On the leg from El Azig to Tabriz we were transiting the high mountains bordering Iran, and uncomfortably close to the Russian border. Of course, this was at a time when the Cold War was at its peak, and naturally at this critical point we got lost; the road we were following just seemed to disappear. Expecting at any moment to be buzzed by a pair of Mig 21s, we held our nerve and after 20 minutes recovered our route and slid down a long valley into Tabriz.
After a two day break in Teheran, where Bristow’s had a big base, we set off again into the dusty brown lunar landscape of the Persian plain and the southern mountains. Isfahan, Shiraz and Bandar Abbas passed by as the temperatures soared. We flew high to keep cool, and out of the heat haze. On our last leg before Karachi, we had to make a refuelling stop at Char Behar. This was used by Imperial Airways in the thirties on their long runs down to the Far East, and amazingly there was still a small depot stocking cans of aviation quality kerosene. Our problem was that there was no-one to refuel us. So for two hours in temperatures of around 40 degrees centigrade, we poured can after can into the aircraft tanks. I seem to remember a figure of 112. Whatever it was, it was one of the most uncomfortable afternoons I have ever spent. Even worse, after that, was another 3 ˝ hours flight to Pakistan, stinking of kerosine.
After 3 days in Karachi at a blissfully proper hotel, we set off again on July 13th to Ahmadabad in India. Here we refuelled and cleared customs. This was an experience in itself as it seemed to take forever and I have never seen so many dusty old files surrounding the office walls – it looked as though nothing had been thrown away since the Raj. Our next night stop was at a small airport near Nagpur. We were taken by a rickety taxi to a very seedy looking hotel in the town, and although it was the best there, we spent the whole night scratching ourselves. The next day, the weather we feared most had arrived. It was now the monsoon season, with incredibly vigorous weather systems bringing violent rainstorms almost every day. We had to spend another night at Nagpur for the weather to clear, staying this time in a sort of rest room at the airport, and living off boiled eggs, the only food that looked edible.
Our next leg was to Calcutta with a stop at Ranchi. However the weather intervened again and we were forced to make a precautionary landing in a jungle area near Khunti to wait for the low clouds to clear. We shut down the engines and looked around at a deserted grassy area surrounded by what seemed to be banana trees – not a soul to be seen. Within ten minutes, however, the helicopter was surrounded by a horde of native Indians peering at this apparition from the skies!
In Calcutta, we were gratefully taken by a BOAC aircrew bus into the city centre to spend the night in a luxurious hotel. Walking out into the street was totally fascinating. This was the year of the Bangladesh revolution and thousands upon thousands of refugees from East Pakistan had descended on the city, sleeping on the streets and in the parks. It was quite literally a seething mass of humanity interspersed with the sacred cows and an incredible colophony of hooting from countless cars and lorries.
The next day, we had to get back to Dum-Dum Airport, but this time only in a local taxi. Getting to one of the ring roads, we found our way barred by a mass of striking workers. A heated argument with our taxi driver ensued, and at one point JH wanted us to leave the car. However NO and I vetoed that idea and virtually threatened the driver with instant death if he didn’t get the taxi through the melee. This seemed to work and we managed to get away. Leaving Calcutta across the Ganges delta we ran into even more extreme weather. To avoid the worst storms we headed towards an airport in Burma called Akyab. Although we had negotiated visas to enter Burma, with great difficulty, these were issued specifically for Rangoon, and to land elsewhere created a certain amount of official pandemonium! We were taken to spend the night in a government rest hut, under armed guard, and hurriedly put back on our helicopter the next morning. Unfortunately, the weather had got no better, and for the next three hours I flew the Wessex in the worst thunderstorms I have ever known. We were flying in very turbulent cloud, in incredibly heavy rain and with no navigation aids! It was pure dead reckoning, hoping we were just off the coast; not daring to climb any higher, and very aware that just inland was higher ground than our 1000 foot altitude!
One further and rather sobering consideration was our technical situation. Since leaving Karachi, we had been required to do a specific and complicated check on the rotor hub, as recently there had been a fatal accident, where part of the head had disintegrated and a rotor blade had detached in flight. In order to complete the maintenance check we had to do a dye penetrant test to see whether there were any cracks in this component. This was an almost impossible task in the weather we had been experiencing. So our fingers were very crossed and our anus’s very tight as we bucked and tossed in the stormy monsoon.
Obviously our luck held out, and we reached Rangoon to spend an extraordinary night in the most wonderful colonial hotel – The Rangoon Palace. I think we must have been the only guests as tourists to Burma were heavily discouraged by the authorities. It was enormous, with that languid air that Forster and Kipling brought to their novels.
The flowing day we set off for the last two legs of our journey. In Phucket in Thailand, we were able at last to carry out the maintenance test on the main rotor assembly, and, believe it or not, we had a hairline crack in one of the arms. So that was it, the helicopter was grounded. We sent a memorable telex message to Redhill “ G-AWOX is f****d in Phucket”!! As we boarded a commercial flight down to Singapore, we reflected on a marvellous experience which covered over 7,500 miles in 20 days and 76 hours of flying."
... and sadly no photos
I wrote this up for my family as part of an autobiography so forgive the style!
"On June 30th, we finally set off from Redhill on what was planned as a two week flight to Singapore. JH, being senior to me was the aircraft Captain and we flew most of the trip down to India swopping seats; although when we got into the really nasty weather, as an ex Navy IR instructor, I seemed to do most of the flying!! In the cabin we also had NO, a bearded engineer who was not only very talented but also good company. After clearing customs at Gatwick, we set off across the Channel for our first night stop at Lyon. However bad weather forced us to make an unscheduled landing at Chateauneuf – a great start to our trip. The helicopter had been fitted with a cabin fuel tank to cope with some of the longer legs, and on a couple of occasions, we had to shut down one engine to conserve fuel which enabled us to fly for 4˝ hours.
From Lyon, we flew on to Naples, Athens, Izmir, El Azig, Tabriz and Teheran. Navigation in those days was almost medieval compared with modern day sat nav. We had an ADF, a basic VOR/ILS system and VHF and HF radio. There was no autopilot, it was hands on all the way, and when we were out of range of the usual nav aids, we were back to following a map! On the leg from El Azig to Tabriz we were transiting the high mountains bordering Iran, and uncomfortably close to the Russian border. Of course, this was at a time when the Cold War was at its peak, and naturally at this critical point we got lost; the road we were following just seemed to disappear. Expecting at any moment to be buzzed by a pair of Mig 21s, we held our nerve and after 20 minutes recovered our route and slid down a long valley into Tabriz.
After a two day break in Teheran, where Bristow’s had a big base, we set off again into the dusty brown lunar landscape of the Persian plain and the southern mountains. Isfahan, Shiraz and Bandar Abbas passed by as the temperatures soared. We flew high to keep cool, and out of the heat haze. On our last leg before Karachi, we had to make a refuelling stop at Char Behar. This was used by Imperial Airways in the thirties on their long runs down to the Far East, and amazingly there was still a small depot stocking cans of aviation quality kerosene. Our problem was that there was no-one to refuel us. So for two hours in temperatures of around 40 degrees centigrade, we poured can after can into the aircraft tanks. I seem to remember a figure of 112. Whatever it was, it was one of the most uncomfortable afternoons I have ever spent. Even worse, after that, was another 3 ˝ hours flight to Pakistan, stinking of kerosine.
After 3 days in Karachi at a blissfully proper hotel, we set off again on July 13th to Ahmadabad in India. Here we refuelled and cleared customs. This was an experience in itself as it seemed to take forever and I have never seen so many dusty old files surrounding the office walls – it looked as though nothing had been thrown away since the Raj. Our next night stop was at a small airport near Nagpur. We were taken by a rickety taxi to a very seedy looking hotel in the town, and although it was the best there, we spent the whole night scratching ourselves. The next day, the weather we feared most had arrived. It was now the monsoon season, with incredibly vigorous weather systems bringing violent rainstorms almost every day. We had to spend another night at Nagpur for the weather to clear, staying this time in a sort of rest room at the airport, and living off boiled eggs, the only food that looked edible.
Our next leg was to Calcutta with a stop at Ranchi. However the weather intervened again and we were forced to make a precautionary landing in a jungle area near Khunti to wait for the low clouds to clear. We shut down the engines and looked around at a deserted grassy area surrounded by what seemed to be banana trees – not a soul to be seen. Within ten minutes, however, the helicopter was surrounded by a horde of native Indians peering at this apparition from the skies!
In Calcutta, we were gratefully taken by a BOAC aircrew bus into the city centre to spend the night in a luxurious hotel. Walking out into the street was totally fascinating. This was the year of the Bangladesh revolution and thousands upon thousands of refugees from East Pakistan had descended on the city, sleeping on the streets and in the parks. It was quite literally a seething mass of humanity interspersed with the sacred cows and an incredible colophony of hooting from countless cars and lorries.
The next day, we had to get back to Dum-Dum Airport, but this time only in a local taxi. Getting to one of the ring roads, we found our way barred by a mass of striking workers. A heated argument with our taxi driver ensued, and at one point JH wanted us to leave the car. However NO and I vetoed that idea and virtually threatened the driver with instant death if he didn’t get the taxi through the melee. This seemed to work and we managed to get away. Leaving Calcutta across the Ganges delta we ran into even more extreme weather. To avoid the worst storms we headed towards an airport in Burma called Akyab. Although we had negotiated visas to enter Burma, with great difficulty, these were issued specifically for Rangoon, and to land elsewhere created a certain amount of official pandemonium! We were taken to spend the night in a government rest hut, under armed guard, and hurriedly put back on our helicopter the next morning. Unfortunately, the weather had got no better, and for the next three hours I flew the Wessex in the worst thunderstorms I have ever known. We were flying in very turbulent cloud, in incredibly heavy rain and with no navigation aids! It was pure dead reckoning, hoping we were just off the coast; not daring to climb any higher, and very aware that just inland was higher ground than our 1000 foot altitude!
One further and rather sobering consideration was our technical situation. Since leaving Karachi, we had been required to do a specific and complicated check on the rotor hub, as recently there had been a fatal accident, where part of the head had disintegrated and a rotor blade had detached in flight. In order to complete the maintenance check we had to do a dye penetrant test to see whether there were any cracks in this component. This was an almost impossible task in the weather we had been experiencing. So our fingers were very crossed and our anus’s very tight as we bucked and tossed in the stormy monsoon.
Obviously our luck held out, and we reached Rangoon to spend an extraordinary night in the most wonderful colonial hotel – The Rangoon Palace. I think we must have been the only guests as tourists to Burma were heavily discouraged by the authorities. It was enormous, with that languid air that Forster and Kipling brought to their novels.
The flowing day we set off for the last two legs of our journey. In Phucket in Thailand, we were able at last to carry out the maintenance test on the main rotor assembly, and, believe it or not, we had a hairline crack in one of the arms. So that was it, the helicopter was grounded. We sent a memorable telex message to Redhill “ G-AWOX is f****d in Phucket”!! As we boarded a commercial flight down to Singapore, we reflected on a marvellous experience which covered over 7,500 miles in 20 days and 76 hours of flying."
... and sadly no photos
Iran re-visited
Iran re-visited!
Considering the number of years Bristows were in Iran, pics and info were pretty sparse when I put together the Skyweaver site so this crop of pics I have just received from Nigel Elliot is much appreciated.
Iran ops during 1977-1978.They are all from the seismic camps. Seis 4 was around Yasuj and Seiz 7 was in the marshes around Abadan and Ahwaz near the border with Iraq.
Early morning flight to move Labo 1
Early morning move Labo 2
.....and Labo 3
Crewman's view
Considering the number of years Bristows were in Iran, pics and info were pretty sparse when I put together the Skyweaver site so this crop of pics I have just received from Nigel Elliot is much appreciated.
Iran ops during 1977-1978.They are all from the seismic camps. Seis 4 was around Yasuj and Seiz 7 was in the marshes around Abadan and Ahwaz near the border with Iraq.
Early morning flight to move Labo 1
Early morning move Labo 2
.....and Labo 3
Crewman's view
Hico-P: Wow, what a great story, fantastico! 
Bristow Westland Wessex 60 Mk1 G-AWOX (Photo: Keith Harper)
ps: If you are able to insert some spaces between the paragraphs in your great story, it helps a little with the reading.
Bristow Westland Wessex 60 Mk1 G-AWOX (Photo: Keith Harper)
ps: If you are able to insert some spaces between the paragraphs in your great story, it helps a little with the reading.