Joe Durnin - RIP
 

For those who knew him, today brings the sad news that Joe Durnin has passed away. He had been fighting cancer for some time and things seem to have gone downhill rapidly in the last few days.

Joe was old school and I'm sure will be remembered by many from his Irish Helicopter days and by others from places he operated overseas. He was quite a character, was Joe, not short of a fairly direct and often scathing opinion on most things and he had some stories to tell if you had time to listen.

I had the pleasure of meeting him again some months ago in Dublin and he was in good spirits, happy to talk helicopters for a few minutes. I consider it a privilege to have known him and to have had the benefit of his guidance from time to time over the years.

"Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam dilis."

Met Joe back in Cork when he was filming the coast scenes of Ireland in a 206, the last non public transport job he was allowed to get away with for his age.... :ok:

A great helicopter character in every sense of the word... RIP Joe.

Joe taught me to fly many years ago in Cork and he was a good friend ever since. Got the chance to see many of his photo albums of more than 50 years of flying in all parts of the world, from the Pilatus Porter to the Bell 47.

A great guy with a fantastic sence of humour.

R.I.P. Joe.

I worked with Joe for a number of years, he was a true gentleman and friend. I am humbled to have known and flown with him. He will be remembered and missed by many.

Rest well my friend,

Joe flew a Pilatus Porter many years ago in foreign climes and found himself at a bush strip one day being loaded with all sorts including a number of wicker crates full of chickens. He got ready and lined up for take-off to find a pickup truck careering across the runway with arms waving wildly at him from within. Several men dismounted and took a bound and trussed wild pig of sorts and loaded it into the back of the aircraft.

This was not entirely uncommon, it seems, so, doors closed, Joe lined up for take-off again. At around 5,000ft, he heard the chickens get a bit excited and glanced over his shoulder to find the bindings on the pig's forelegs had come undone and he was trying to scrabble his way forward along the floor.

Joe pulled the nose up and the threat retreated, literally. However, once levelled again, the pig made another effort. This step-by-step climb kept having the desired effect but at something the far side of 12,000ft, Joe had himself a bit of a dilemma and, in his soft Donegal accent, said "so ah decided 'twas either the moon or kill the f****n' pig!"

He began to descend gradually again, took hold of the fire extinguisher and, each time the pig came within reach, he was greeted by a sound thump from Joe's new weapon.

By the time he landed, the pig was very dead!