Swing the lamp, pull up a sandbag.
Keke
then as NEO said
No wonder they all said that of the ex-service pilots Crabs were utterly wet, humourless people with no sense of fun or adventure.
You don't know me or my background.
crab@, we're talking of a time when Bristow had a very RN attitude (despite the personnel manager being an ex Sqdn Ldr) whereby if you were RN, when can you start? Ex AAC, let's just check whether someone knows you? Ex RAF, sorry but we'll call you. Fact of life.
Back to the lamp swinging, a time working offshore in NZ opened my eyes to a different outlook on operating. We increased the fleet a bit and got a 212 on hire from Canada, which was fine by me with my Canadian licence. The CP was also licenced and then did some endorsements on the machine, at which time a few questions revealed that the licence had expired 10-12 years before: it then became my toy as the only one suitable licenced!
We also picked up a 205 for a while, which was duly approved by the CAA to operate SE offshore without floats. Go figure?!
One thing for sure: what we got up to wouldn't be contemplated these days with the certainty that someone is bound to have a camera phone and record the antics. Sad in a way, but fun to look back upon
Back to the lamp swinging, a time working offshore in NZ opened my eyes to a different outlook on operating. We increased the fleet a bit and got a 212 on hire from Canada, which was fine by me with my Canadian licence. The CP was also licenced and then did some endorsements on the machine, at which time a few questions revealed that the licence had expired 10-12 years before: it then became my toy as the only one suitable licenced!
We also picked up a 205 for a while, which was duly approved by the CAA to operate SE offshore without floats. Go figure?!
One thing for sure: what we got up to wouldn't be contemplated these days with the certainty that someone is bound to have a camera phone and record the antics. Sad in a way, but fun to look back upon
Apologies for thread drift but I have to.
George Puddy never ever said that.
despite the personnel manager being an ex Sqdn Ldr whereby if you were RN, when can you start? Ex AAC, let's just check whether someone knows you? Ex RAF, sorry but we'll call you
Crab,
Maybe NEO and Keke Napep don't,but quite a few of us do. For someone whose time was mainly internal security and SAR you hold some pretty strong, remarkably-free-from-facts-or-research opinions on other areas. I'm thinking of your past comments on - ooh - Doctors on HEMS, DFCs in Afghanistan...
You've some sound knowledge and, within certain spheres, some experience - but I don't recall you ever getting yer knees brown. Try not snatching defeat from the jaws of victory too often by allowing for the fact that there are folk out there who can put you and me in the shade with their abilities (and stories).
Play nice, eh?
You don't know me or my background.
You've some sound knowledge and, within certain spheres, some experience - but I don't recall you ever getting yer knees brown. Try not snatching defeat from the jaws of victory too often by allowing for the fact that there are folk out there who can put you and me in the shade with their abilities (and stories).
Play nice, eh?
I don't know about an Engineer going for a ride...but there was one attempted hijacking in Nigeria where a quick thinking American Pilot departed hurriedly...and delivered said Hijacker to the Texaco/Funiwa.....hanging from the Skid.
George Puddy was one of the nicest people I have ever met....a real Gentleman and always good fun to be around.
As I was ex-US Army and an American...who passed through Redhill on Holiday from a job with a small helicopter maker in Italy....the hiring process was a bit less formal than it later became.
I was in the Reception of the new building in Redhill dressed in Shorts, Tee Shirt, and Flip Flops....asking to pickup an Application to be submitted by Post when I was called upstairs...offered a cup of Tea and a Job.
I suppose being at the right place at the right time overcomes being properly attired and not a member of any particular British Class or Service.
As has been said in the past....those were the best days of Mr. Bristow's company.
Good people, good attitude, and some very good flying to be had.
George Puddy was one of the nicest people I have ever met....a real Gentleman and always good fun to be around.
As I was ex-US Army and an American...who passed through Redhill on Holiday from a job with a small helicopter maker in Italy....the hiring process was a bit less formal than it later became.
I was in the Reception of the new building in Redhill dressed in Shorts, Tee Shirt, and Flip Flops....asking to pickup an Application to be submitted by Post when I was called upstairs...offered a cup of Tea and a Job.
I suppose being at the right place at the right time overcomes being properly attired and not a member of any particular British Class or Service.
As has been said in the past....those were the best days of Mr. Bristow's company.
Good people, good attitude, and some very good flying to be had.
Allowing for the thread title, I have precis'd what he certainly said to me on one of his frequent attempts to get me to join Bristow in the NS on exactly the same pay that I'd left the RN. Much later we joked (when I became a Bristow pilot following their purchase of BEAS) that he didn't really have to go to so much trouble to get me on the books 
The truth Brother Eacott is they bought BEAS just because they wanted you in the Fold!
Times have certainly changed. Back in the late 60's when I had about 6 months to go to the end of my RN time I had an interview with Alan Green at Redhill. Apart from being given a few circuits as an enticer in what was one of the very first JetRangers in the UK, he offered me £500 cash there and then if I would commit to joining Bristow six months later, a lot of money then as my RN pay was £1700pa. I declined and subsequently joined another all ex-RN outfit but 20 years later like many others ended up working for them anyway.
One of these participants has passed on so the story can be told.
The Forties Field was BP's jewel in the North Sea and Bristow had held the contract to support it since it's inauguration. There developed an annual golf tournament between Bristow and BP and this developed over the years. BP would pay for a S61, Bristow would pilot it and everybody would fly off to a golf course for a days clubbing.
This time everybody had gathered together, two Bristow wheels were at the controls and they set off for Perth Golf Club. Perth airfield were slightly surprised when they made radio contact because they were socked in with fog. A requested telephone call ascertained that the golf club was also socked in as was the rest of the Tay Valley. Disappointed they turned back to Aberdeen.
The BP guys were kept in the departure lounge with tea and biccies whilst our heroes sorted out another golf club. Nairn Golf club came up trumps so without further ado they checked the weather and set off for Nairn; which was even further away than Perth.
The found Nairn, golf club, and landed close to the clubhouse. There was a fair gathering of people so the pilots thought that the word had got around that a helicopter was coming. They hadn't; they had come to see the club's Annual Medal Tournament.
Wrong golf course.
They got to the right place eventually but I knew a couple of the BP people and they were highly unimpressed. I don't think that it was a coincidence that when the BP contract came up for renewal another company got it.
and they were Army and Navy.
The Forties Field was BP's jewel in the North Sea and Bristow had held the contract to support it since it's inauguration. There developed an annual golf tournament between Bristow and BP and this developed over the years. BP would pay for a S61, Bristow would pilot it and everybody would fly off to a golf course for a days clubbing.
This time everybody had gathered together, two Bristow wheels were at the controls and they set off for Perth Golf Club. Perth airfield were slightly surprised when they made radio contact because they were socked in with fog. A requested telephone call ascertained that the golf club was also socked in as was the rest of the Tay Valley. Disappointed they turned back to Aberdeen.
The BP guys were kept in the departure lounge with tea and biccies whilst our heroes sorted out another golf club. Nairn Golf club came up trumps so without further ado they checked the weather and set off for Nairn; which was even further away than Perth.
The found Nairn, golf club, and landed close to the clubhouse. There was a fair gathering of people so the pilots thought that the word had got around that a helicopter was coming. They hadn't; they had come to see the club's Annual Medal Tournament.
Wrong golf course.
They got to the right place eventually but I knew a couple of the BP people and they were highly unimpressed. I don't think that it was a coincidence that when the BP contract came up for renewal another company got it.
and they were Army and Navy.
Last edited by Fareastdriver; 1st Oct 2016 at 16:16.
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I love this thread, it's the only place left on Earth where I still feel young!
Before we leave the Bristow subject ... I only encountered the great man once.
Early 1980. I'd left the RN just a few weeks earlier. With a brand spanking new 206B3 on the pad at Battersea I was doing the coffee thing with a bunch of older-and-wiser ex-matelots. (I seem to remember the likes of Spotty, Colin, MBJ and maybe even Geoffers being there. I think you were in foreign parts by then, John). Cue Mr A.Bristow himself who was deposited by one of his own, rather larger, machines.
On his way to the Roller he paused at my Jetranger, had a good poke around, and then strode towards the crewroom with serious intent. The water-cooler chat ceased. The door flew open. "Whose Jetranger is that?" barked the big man. I tentatively raised a finger. "Bloody nice machine, try to keep it that way". Door slammed closed. I now knew what a civilian admiral looked like.
Before we leave the Bristow subject ... I only encountered the great man once.
Early 1980. I'd left the RN just a few weeks earlier. With a brand spanking new 206B3 on the pad at Battersea I was doing the coffee thing with a bunch of older-and-wiser ex-matelots. (I seem to remember the likes of Spotty, Colin, MBJ and maybe even Geoffers being there. I think you were in foreign parts by then, John). Cue Mr A.Bristow himself who was deposited by one of his own, rather larger, machines.
On his way to the Roller he paused at my Jetranger, had a good poke around, and then strode towards the crewroom with serious intent. The water-cooler chat ceased. The door flew open. "Whose Jetranger is that?" barked the big man. I tentatively raised a finger. "Bloody nice machine, try to keep it that way". Door slammed closed. I now knew what a civilian admiral looked like.
Nigerian In Law
Do We Have To ?
Leave the Bristow subject that is ? At the risk of inciting Crab with another tale.....
The same (now deceased) big wheel who landed on the wrong golf course was also the Chief LTC Tigers in the early 90s. He was famous or rather infamous for many things, one of which was not leaving his office for long flights to the East Shetland Basin etc.
I was rostered with an ex RN chap well known for his acerbic wit (he ran for Parliament and lost his deposit) on a Line Check to the Beatrice in the newly refurbished ex Noriega AS332L with said CLTC squeezed into the jump seat.
I was RHS so the prospective Parliamentary candidate was handling the radios on the outbound leg. His exchange with the female controller at Lossie Radar became the stuff of legend and cost him 6 months as P1 U/S. it went something along the lines of:
"Bristow ***, what service do you require ?"
After a wide smile past BB he replied, "Room service please !"
BB went bright purple, tore the notes from his clipboard and never spoke another word for the rest of the flight. Peace !
NEO
The same (now deceased) big wheel who landed on the wrong golf course was also the Chief LTC Tigers in the early 90s. He was famous or rather infamous for many things, one of which was not leaving his office for long flights to the East Shetland Basin etc.
I was rostered with an ex RN chap well known for his acerbic wit (he ran for Parliament and lost his deposit) on a Line Check to the Beatrice in the newly refurbished ex Noriega AS332L with said CLTC squeezed into the jump seat.
I was RHS so the prospective Parliamentary candidate was handling the radios on the outbound leg. His exchange with the female controller at Lossie Radar became the stuff of legend and cost him 6 months as P1 U/S. it went something along the lines of:
"Bristow ***, what service do you require ?"
After a wide smile past BB he replied, "Room service please !"
BB went bright purple, tore the notes from his clipboard and never spoke another word for the rest of the flight. Peace !
NEO
Another American and I were tasked to ferry a 58T to Redhill from Aberdeen.
Weather was Romeo Sierra (polite way of saying Rat ****)....and as we neared the London Metropolitan Area it became apparent that my short Greek friend with lots of time with Air America....was having difficulty placing us on the Map. My cue was when I saw him rotate it two full Rev's trying to make sense of it all.
As we were strangers to this onshore UK flying stuff....and the map for that part of the UK is all Yellow with lots of scribbling and symbols that meant not much to us....I being the PIC started getting a bit nervous.
I keyed the intercom and asked Steve if he had any idea where we were....and all I saw was the back of his head as he was peering intently over his shoulder at something as we flew by.
His response gave me pause....."Nope...not at all but it is Three O'Clock!".
We had just whizzed by Big Ben which I knew was not good news.
What was good news is at least I knew where we were...and how to find Redhill from there.
Shortly after landing at Redhill....we were told rather harshly to report to Mr. Bristow's Office on the double. At that point....I wished I had spent the last hour or so updating my Resume as I felt I would be needing it after getting to meet the Boss Fellah.
When we walked in...demonstrating what Meek, Humble, and very Concerned looked like.....upon introducing ourselves....the Old Man growled...."Two Bloody Yanks....I might have known!".
He then went on to inquire if we knew just how many phone calls he had from the CAA because of us two and opined he wasted enough of his time with them without any assistance from the likes of us.
He then smiled and said...."Well....every body knows your Names now! Get out of here and get back to work!".
Weather was Romeo Sierra (polite way of saying Rat ****)....and as we neared the London Metropolitan Area it became apparent that my short Greek friend with lots of time with Air America....was having difficulty placing us on the Map. My cue was when I saw him rotate it two full Rev's trying to make sense of it all.
As we were strangers to this onshore UK flying stuff....and the map for that part of the UK is all Yellow with lots of scribbling and symbols that meant not much to us....I being the PIC started getting a bit nervous.
I keyed the intercom and asked Steve if he had any idea where we were....and all I saw was the back of his head as he was peering intently over his shoulder at something as we flew by.
His response gave me pause....."Nope...not at all but it is Three O'Clock!".
We had just whizzed by Big Ben which I knew was not good news.
What was good news is at least I knew where we were...and how to find Redhill from there.
Shortly after landing at Redhill....we were told rather harshly to report to Mr. Bristow's Office on the double. At that point....I wished I had spent the last hour or so updating my Resume as I felt I would be needing it after getting to meet the Boss Fellah.
When we walked in...demonstrating what Meek, Humble, and very Concerned looked like.....upon introducing ourselves....the Old Man growled...."Two Bloody Yanks....I might have known!".
He then went on to inquire if we knew just how many phone calls he had from the CAA because of us two and opined he wasted enough of his time with them without any assistance from the likes of us.
He then smiled and said...."Well....every body knows your Names now! Get out of here and get back to work!".
A good friend was on exchange from flying Wasps with the RN to flying Scouts with the BAOR, and detailed to fly the Grand Poobah one day.
As happens, the Scout failed to start and CP noted the lack of spark. Nonchalantly (he was RN, after all) he exited the cab and asked the General to pass him the chock from the back of the cabin, which he used to smite a calibrated tap on the ignitor box. Returned chock to the General, climbed in, started and got on with the job.
Henceforth the General demanded CP as his pilot, to the chagrin of the hairy chested AAC drivers
As happens, the Scout failed to start and CP noted the lack of spark. Nonchalantly (he was RN, after all) he exited the cab and asked the General to pass him the chock from the back of the cabin, which he used to smite a calibrated tap on the ignitor box. Returned chock to the General, climbed in, started and got on with the job.
Henceforth the General demanded CP as his pilot, to the chagrin of the hairy chested AAC drivers
I remember on one occasion said chap had clutch or gearbox troubles with his car and between each course he could be seen transitting up even the slightest gradient Cornish hills in reverse gear as that was the only way he could make progress. The make of that car was identical to his surname.
I didn't know that BB was no longer with us. Some of his 332L line checks were more like a base check where the RNAV followed by various other things would progepressivly fail.
I was rostered with an ex RN chap well known for his acerbic wit (he ran for Parliament and lost his deposit)
T&B, I concede to being a bit out of order with my first post - never pprune on the outside of a bottle of red and a couple of beers.
However, the quality of the stories has gone up
However, the quality of the stories has gone up
Funny how things you've not thought of in years suddenly pop into your head as a result of this thread. Carrying on from my Bristow interview story, a few months later in early '68 whilst waiting for my CPL exam results I received a telephone call asking if I was interested in a job flying a Bell 47. It would have been foolish not to look at it and I toddled off to Stansted for an interview. The owner ran a building company - he's now long deceased - but I see his Company is still going so I won't mention his name here.
On arrival at Stansted I was greeted by the builder's chauffeur who thrust a thin Flight Manual at me and pointed to a Bell 47 sitting on a trolley and he said "Mr X says to teach yourself to fly it and he'd like to go to the races at Ascot tomorrow". My protestations that I hadn't quite got a pilot's licence in my hot sticky hand were met by a blank stare and the chauffeur disappeared. I'd never seen a Bell 47 before but thought it couldn't be that different to the Hiller 12E that I'd done my 1179 on whilst still in the RN so thought I'd have a look round it. When I found out how to check the engine oil level and saw it was about an eighth full I got back in my car and drove home.
Subsequently when I started my first civvy flying job one of the other pilots was the builder's former ex-RN pilot - now with a CPL. It turned out he had flown for the builder on a PPL(H) only and had been employed as an 'office manager'. His job when not flying was to organise a car parking 'business' where holidaymakers left their cars with him when they flew abroad and he housed them in the garages of the builder's unsold houses around Essex, taking them back to Stansted when the holidaymakers returned. The trouble was he lost his list of where he'd put the cars and chaos ensued.........which is how Mr X had ended up without a pilot.
Edit - I eventually ended up with more than 2500 hours on various varieties of Bell 47 and my conversion to type is another story....it's almost 50 years ago but I don't know how long the legal arm of the CAA is so that will have to remain untold.
On arrival at Stansted I was greeted by the builder's chauffeur who thrust a thin Flight Manual at me and pointed to a Bell 47 sitting on a trolley and he said "Mr X says to teach yourself to fly it and he'd like to go to the races at Ascot tomorrow". My protestations that I hadn't quite got a pilot's licence in my hot sticky hand were met by a blank stare and the chauffeur disappeared. I'd never seen a Bell 47 before but thought it couldn't be that different to the Hiller 12E that I'd done my 1179 on whilst still in the RN so thought I'd have a look round it. When I found out how to check the engine oil level and saw it was about an eighth full I got back in my car and drove home.
Subsequently when I started my first civvy flying job one of the other pilots was the builder's former ex-RN pilot - now with a CPL. It turned out he had flown for the builder on a PPL(H) only and had been employed as an 'office manager'. His job when not flying was to organise a car parking 'business' where holidaymakers left their cars with him when they flew abroad and he housed them in the garages of the builder's unsold houses around Essex, taking them back to Stansted when the holidaymakers returned. The trouble was he lost his list of where he'd put the cars and chaos ensued.........which is how Mr X had ended up without a pilot.
Edit - I eventually ended up with more than 2500 hours on various varieties of Bell 47 and my conversion to type is another story....it's almost 50 years ago but I don't know how long the legal arm of the CAA is so that will have to remain untold.
Fair call, crab - good result.
Agreed re 2nd point.
Having once been voted the 2nd most boring pilot in NATO, obviously nothing interesting or worthy of repetition ever happened to me. I shall just have to continue to absorb the delightful recollections of others who've extracted more out of life than I ever will
Agreed re 2nd point.
Having once been voted the 2nd most boring pilot in NATO, obviously nothing interesting or worthy of repetition ever happened to me. I shall just have to continue to absorb the delightful recollections of others who've extracted more out of life than I ever will