From the Log Book

[IHC150]

Not from the Log Book, but I found the attached photo while cleaning up the study to allow my wife to work from home. My first ever flight in an aircraft of any type was at the Yarrawonga Air Show in 1993 (I thought it was earlier but my wife tells be otherwise). It was April and my birthday was coming up so my better half decided to take me to the air show as part of my birthday gift. Little did I know, that she had organised a flight in a Tiger Moth (one of my favourite aircraft as a kid). We arrived and commenced looking around at various aircraft and then my wife started ushering me towards a particularly nice DH-82A and introduced me to 'Captain Bogglesworth' (if memory serves me correctly).

 

My mind was a blur as the realisation hit me that my childhood dream of flying was about to occur. Like many, the younger version of me had started off dabbling in making balsa wood gliders. These were launched off the top of the cricket practice nets at the local footy oval, or I'd recruit someone to tow launch the gliders. The tow launch versions had a rudder which was held straight by a linkage to the tow hook and once the pressure came off the tow hook a rubber band would pull the rudder to one side causing the glider to circle in big loops back to the ground (not always successfully - some were lost into properties bordering the oval, never to be recovered - hours of work down the tube!) I'd spend many afternoons on the weekends, sitting and watching enthralled as local RC enthusiasts flew their aircraft from the school grounds at Macleod Technical School on Kingsbury Drive. These were the times when heat shrink was relatively new and for the well heeled. Being restricted to the income from a morning and afternoon paper round, I initially had to be happy covering my gliders in tissue and dope. Later, with assistance from my mother I graduated to control line and then RC aircraft (I still have my first 29mhz, 2 channel mustard coloured Kraft Transmitter).

 

I digress - back to the main story. Captain Bogglesworth (CB) led me to the aircraft and began the pre-flight briefing. His sobriquet seemed a perfect fit given he sported a dark and full moustache on his top lip and was dressed in a beige flying suit and flight cap. Predictably, I asked when I was going to be given my parachute. With a slightly pained expression on his face, CB advised me that I would not require one. It was about this time that I also found out that I wasn't merely going on a scenic flight around the aerodrome and over Lake Mulwala, but that this was going to be an aerobatic flight.

 

Once I was strapped in the front seat, we taxied to the holding point and my stomach was full of butterflies as the excitement continued to grow. Soon we backtracked onto the runway and the memory is still vivid of the sensation as the aircraft picked up pace as we rolled down 19 and gently rose into the air. How many times had I dreamt of that moment! It was different to what I expected, but in many ways exceeded my expectations. Once we had gained altitude, CB yelled over the noise of the engine and the wind to check if I was ready for our first aerobatic manoeuvre. We proceeded to do a variety of rolls and loops and I was very conscious of the little mirror mounted on the strut in front of me which allowed CB to keep a check on me and ensure I wasn't about to discharge my breakfast all over him. I did my best to keep my head up through the first loop and looking ahead as the horizon disappeared below the nose and the sky, then the upside down horizon and then the ground filled my view, but I have to admit on the second loop to becoming fixated on the instruments inside the cockpit and I didn't look around. After a while, we finally settled into a couple of gentle circuits before CB brought us down for a very smooth wheel landing.

 

Once released from my harness and standing back on terra firma (on slightly shaky legs I must admit), I shook CB's hand vigorously and thanked him profusely for the experience. I then turned to my wife and gave her a huge hug and kiss for facilitating one of my greatest wishes. It was not quite all over however, and I was approached my one of the organisers who asked me to come across to the announcers station and be interviewed about my experience. At that time I was very inexperienced with public speaking, but the buzz I was still feeling carried me through the interview. The announcer was in on the secret and was aware that this was my first flight so he asked me how I enjoyed the flight. Having lost my inhibitions, I proclaimed that "it was better than sex" and then immediately regretted my poor choice of words. The announcer looked uncomfortable, but I received some chuckles from a number of the pilots and cockies around the grounds.

 

Despite living not very far from Yarrawonga Aerodrome, it was not until last year that I finally returned to Yarrawonga Aerodrome, this time at the controls of one of my own aircraft. It had not been on my radar as a 'must do' thing, however I did feel a certain sense of nostalga as I touched down on 19 once more.

 

I see that VH-AIP is still on the register. I must catch up with the owner and see if the old Moth is still actively flying.

[poteroo]

MY VERY 1ST EMERGENCY - 19/11/67.

Cessna 185C, VH_DJU

Naoro, Kokoda Track, PNG

 

Naoro was a 550m strip at 1000agl on the infamous Kokoda Track between Iorobaiwa and Efogi. Naoro was in a wide valley and about 10nm S of Efogi, but the surrounding terrain was 100% uncleared jungle, ie, not possible to land in or survive. It was dead flat, very grassy, and one way only: the E end was a river and then a hill! It was a very tight strip and you needed to be well setup to arrive in a full stall just on the markers: which meant about 60KIAS and some intermittent stall warning as you passed over the tree stumped 'undershoot'. This is getting seriously committed in a fully loaded 185. Unfortunately I don't have a pic of it, but have included pics of both Efogi and Kagi - further up the track towards the Gap.

 

By late 1967, I was just beginning to be competent on the 185, with 155 hrs PIC, TT 675 hrs and PNG 260 hrs. In those days, we were pretty much thrown in at the deep end, which explains the high accident rate in PNG in the 60's and 70's. The 'incident' rate was off the clock - but DCA either was unaware of that, or chose to turn a Nelsonian eye to it. As their only part-timer, I flew mostly on the weekends - on Saturday the coastal runs to the Gulf, and to Milne Bay, plus the Kokoda Gap 'shuttles' early on a Sunday. Wx permitting, though from 6-11 was usually doable.

 

My steed was quite a nice 185, having been purchased new in 64 by one of the Missions, and onsold in 66 to my employer. For the era, it was well equipped, (looks archaic now), as one of the pics shows. All our 185s had cargo pods fitted, as it was one way of keeping the CG reasonably forward. Unfortunately, they were not water or oil proof, and we were constantly berated for the mess that resulted. The pods also penalised the aircraft by about 5-7 kts, (probably due to having to extend the cowl flaps further open), and lowered performance just where you needed it most: takeoff and climb.

 

But, this particular 185 had been into maintenance a couple times recently with 'CSU variations' on the MR, but nothing was found! How hard the engineers looked depended very much on whether you threatened to ground the aircraft! Junior pilots didn't carry much authority!

 

On the 19th, I did a 1st charter over the Owen Stanleys to Safia, and back to Port Moresby. I then completed 2 return trips to Efogi, which is a nasty strip at 3800'amsl, and is 17% slope on the lower end, with a dogleg at halfway. It is in a tight little valley with absolutely no go-round as the ranges just disappear into the mist from the top. The Kokoada Track crosses the parking bay at the top end. The CSU seemed to be behaving itself, although lagging a little at full power, but I had one of those 'doesn't feel right' moments on the next trip where I dropped a load off in Efogi, then into Naoro empty to see if there was any upload waiting. None there, so I was (fortunately), empty, and with only 90 mins fuel for the last 20 min flight back to Port Moresby. A quick call on HF to give taxying advice, and off we go.

 

On takeoff here, I had always tracked to the right, against a ridgeline, then turned across the extended centreline of the strip, and climbed on direct track up to 4500 if possible. No sooner had I begun my left turn that the RPM began to drop and the engine began to shake. By now I was about 400 ft agl and could see the strip out my left side - but I was far too high to breakoff and begin an approach. Next, the oil pressure eased back off the scale and funny noises commenced! SH#T!! Even quicker MAYDAY call on HF, then got on with the job. Decided that the engine had about 2 mins to run before it seized, so decided not to shut it down until then.

 

A descending left turn and I was on a close-in, (bloody close!!), downwind leg at 70KIAS. Then, shutdown engine, and began clean glide onto a curved base. Keep the nose down, and rack in full flap as I turned final at about 100-150 ft. Best landing ever, and used up only half the strip.

 

Local Papuans who had been watching my departure came racing onto the strip, and we pushed poor sad DJU into the parking area.

 

Much excitement, and lots of Motu spoken, but I was oblivious to it all, except whyen the headman shook my hand and said:

 

OOOOH, TAUBADA* - YOU LUCKY!!

WE THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO CRASH.

 

* = Master or Captain

 

I could only agree with him - a minute or two earlier, or later, and I would have become another PNG statistic!

 

The rest went as usual. Called PM on HF and cancelled the Mayday, then asked them to advise company as there was nobody on our freq on Sunday.

 

The problem was that the main bearings had been cutting out, and the oil filter blocked up = no CSU control. Other than that = ops normal.

 

The maintenance crew arrived in another 185, setup a block & tackle, removed the engine and replaced it within a couple days.

 

The pilot who 'caused' the incident was, (by some PNG tradition), obliged to fly it out. This served a double purpose as it then constituted the maintenance 'test' flight, and carried all the tools back out. All the brave maintenance crew flew back home in the 'good' aircraft.

 

And we did all this just for the experience! happy days,

Edited April 9, 2020 by poteroo

[Old Koreelah]

Poteroo when reading stories like this I often look up the places on Google Earth; Naoro seems to be overgrown, but I looked up the other strips.

I dips me lid.

[facthunter]

Having good feel for those engines helps a lot .Your life depends on it.. The Hiwing Cessna wings would work where others wouldn't. Hard place to learn in. Many of those strips border on ridiculous and then there's the clouds churning high in the sky in the afternoon with rocks in them. You earn your spurs in PNG. Nev

[poteroo]

Poteroo when reading stories like this I often look up the places on Google Earth; Naoro seems to be overgrown, but I looked up the other strips.

 

Yes, Naoro is now abandoned - since the 80's I think. It was only 400m long, and every wet season, became sodden as the Brown R overflow. There have been other strips such as Manumu, (to the NW of Efogi), which we once used but are now gone. Menari is a newer strip, (80s), just E of Efogi, and notable as the closest strip to the Brigade Hill battle site, where Brig.Potts miscalculated the Japs ability to climb sheer slopes. Kagi is the location written up in WW2 history as where the advancing Japs held a huge lantern parade to frighten the retreating Aussies on the opposite side of the valley.

 

There was another WW2 installed strip on the N side of the Myola Lakes which are not more than 6-8nm to the NE of Efogi, but it was only accessible to Cubs and Stinsons for medical evacuations. Pic of. In the 60's there were 2 crashed tri-motor types there but as we couldn't land -never found out their history. Myola is off the main Kokoda Track and at 6000 ft amsl, is cold and miserable.

 

Have posted recent pic of DJU - now in Kiwi rego and happily flying in happier locations.

 

Other posting shows just how densely clouded it becomes by lunchtime. The only way in/out is to fly VFR under the base, dodging the showers and always 'keeping the back door open' by switching sides of the valley to allow for a minimum radius 180.

 

happy days,

[onetrack]

Just a little correction there, Poteroo. Brig. Arnold Potts didn't miscalculate the Japs ability to climb sheer slopes - he simply didn't know the Japs had mountain artillery pieces that they manhandled up those slopes.

Those Jap artillery pieces slaughtered a lot of Aussies, and they had no artillery pieces of their own. Add in Jap snipers hidden up in trees, and the Kokoda Track was a deadly place, if you were an Aussie.

[poteroo]

Just a little correction there, Poteroo. Brig. Arnold Potts didn't miscalculate the Japs ability to climb sheer slopes - he simply didn't know the Japs had mountain artillery pieces that they manhandled up those slopes.

Those Jap artillery pieces slaughtered a lot of Aussies, and they had no artillery pieces of their own. Add in Jap snipers hidden up in trees, and the Kokoda Track was a deadly place, if you were an Aussie.

True, they did have these mountain artillery with them, and used them all the way up the Track from Kokoda to the top of the Gap. Potts knew about them, but the Brigade Hill setback was caused by Japs crawling up the slopes from the valley floor, and getting behind his HQ on the Track. I'm unsure whether the Japs actually managed to get their mountain artillery up and over the Gap to be used on the campaign through Kagi, Efogi, Menari, Naoro and Ioribaiwa. ? The Jap encircling movement, (despite being up a very,very steep slope, was what lead to the cutting off of many troops, causing a disorganised withdrawal. Potts and his HQ group only just managed a fighting retreat. I'm sure that is what Peter Brune wrote in his "A Bastard of a Place" which is regarded as a reasonable account of the campaign.

 

When you have a look at all these places, from both g/l and above, you can only wonder at how anyone could defend anything.

 

The pic below shows the Kokoda Gap from Kokoda on the N side. The lowest point thru the Gap was just under 6500, and even at 7500 going through in the mornings, we were looking up at a lot of threatening terrain. It looks so simple in this pic, but this is a rarity. By midday, you mostly need 12000 to get over here. Just to the RH side of this pic, the range rises to Mt Victoria,(13000). Alpine vegetation above 9500, and in cloud most of day.

 

happy days,

[poteroo]

ust a little correction there, Poteroo. Brig. Arnold Potts didn't miscalculate the Japs ability to climb sheer slopes - he simply didn't know the Japs had mountain artillery pieces that they manhandled up those slopes

 

Onetrack,

 

You are correct re the mountain artillery. Have just re-read Brune and it's on p202. Brigade Hill begins as you step away from the top end of Efogi airstrip, towards the south. The river off the lower end of Efogi runs along the W side of brigade Hill, and that's where the Japs sneaked in behind Potts. The Japs had used a classic encircling attack for all of the Kokoda campaign to date, and although Potts must have been aware of it, there are only so many eventualities that can be blocked off.

 

pics below: (2). shows a RAAF Caribou parked at the top of Efogi in the early 70s. The Track runs under its' stbd wing and then up Brigade Hill. It must have been one hell of an exciting takeoff here as we barely made it in 185s! The other (3). is from Brigade Hill looking back down to the strip - a fair slog to get there.

 

1st pic is of the War Memorial in Kokoda village - an easy 5 min walk from the strip parking bay. NB - a small rain shower in distance toward the ranges.

 

The final pic is of myself and mates uncovering a treasure trove of Jap Zero fighters on Sek airfield, (30km N of Madang), in 1962. The rising suns were clear under the wings, all the insts were in them, guns there, tyres rotting off the rims. But the snakes, centipedes, scorpions, chiggas, and vicious 'kurakem' ants, along with 'salaat' stinging trees, (worse than a 'Gympie Nettle tree), were small disincentives!

 

happy days,

[Jerry_Atrick]

OK - another from the logobook - but, again, someone else's - you guys must think I don't fly...

 

It's January, 2010. I haven't flown for 13 years (thought it was 15). I am in the same company now for 3 years and have discovered a flying social club on the group chat. So I invite myself to it and join the conversation. In the autumn months, they decide to plan a flyout to Le Touquet - which is the British pilot's mecca and rite of passage. The idea quickly gets traction and soon the pilots are asking for volunteer pax. Of course, I put my electronic hand up.. The date is set for August and it can't come around quick enough.

 

The pilots were still trying to get passengers, so I ask the lady who sat next to me if she wanted to join us. She was pretty keen and invited her friend.. both Aussies. They were assigned to another pilot....

 

The first planning meeting organised where pilots and pax attended. I already knew my pilot, the girls eagerly awaiting their chiseled jaw, tall dark and hadsome ferrier..well the look on their face was priceless when he walked in.. as was his.. He was the exact opposite of what they were hoping, they were the exact match of what he was hoping ;-)

 

Anyway, dates settled, routes from the different airfields agreed, departure times more or less agreed, watches synchronised and all of that.. and it was waiting it out.

 

This was out route:

 

The southerly sector was the route out and the northerly the route back.

Steve, our intrepid pilot for the day, pre-flighted the plane and the other pax, my step-father in law, followed him around to see what happened. Steve ensured a GAR form was filed and we had our passports and they were still in date. We donned our lifejackets and in we hopped (me in the back!), all bucked up, safety briefing given and we were off.

 

The day was claggy and Steve had to use his IMC rating (only legal in the UK):

 

 

I was keeping a close eye on the instruments from the back seat for good measure, but he was perfectly fine:

 

We routed south via the Miday VOR, hung a left north of Goodwood (which I recommend if you come to the UK tome it for the Goodwood Revival if you like antique cars and planes) and coasted out just past Rye. Apart from joining Moorrabbin's 18R/35L from Carrum. I have never really flown over water in a light aircraft before. It was a surreal feeling actually. As we coasted out, we could see plenty of ships and a few ferries crossing the channel. As I only had a Blackberry and it was cloudy, the shots I took were rather average so best not post them. However, when we got the FIR boundary that separates UK and French airspace, in typical fashion, the clouds more or less gave way to decent sunshine.

 

Steve let Richard (step father in law) take the controls of the aircraft for his first time. Richard is an ex meteorolgist who did aviation for a bit and an aviation enthusiast, but never tried flying before. Well, his initial trepidation gave way and he really enjoyed it:

 

Steve switched to the Le Touquet ATIS ahead of crossing the border.. They transmit it in both English and French; when we dialled tthe ATIS up, it had just started the French version and it was then that Steve said this was the reason for dialling it up well in advance. He thanked London Information for their service and dialled in Le Touquet approach. This was my first taste of French RT.. .and it is a little unsettling as they speak to French pilots in French and everyone else in English. The result - it is hard to build up a situational awareness of where everything is. I normally applaud that gallic stubborness but in this case, it seemed dangerous. But, after a while, you get used to it and keep your eyes peeled.

 

Compared to the the verbosity of UK RT, the French just require who you are, where you are, what height you're at, and what you want to do.. As I recall Aussie ATC. 'Twas a joy. Anyway, I start to get excited again - we are doing a proper international flight and we are coming up to another country's coast:

 

 

The airfield actually sits not too far from the beach... On the northern-ish perimeter, there is a fquant little marina - apologies for the blurriness.. need a steadier hand...

 

We are instructed to to a join left hand downwind. The weather is almost perfect for flying - a gentle breeze and all looks fine. But, as this back-seat driver noted the approach looked a little high (but didn't say anything because Le Touquet has an 1850m runway and I figure he wants to land well into it to minimise taxy time) (again apols for the quality of the photo):

 

The flare was a little high and we returned to terra firma with quite a bump. But the PA28's undercarriage is built to take it.. A little embarressed, Steve taxis to the parking and we disembark in glorious sunshine. Behind us, Tony and the 2 girls arrive in a rather nicely refurbished TB10. Both girls have the broadest smiles on their faces and really enjoyed the flight. We enter the terminal building, organise for refuelling and agree to pay for the fuel and landing fees on our return. No one checks our passports; we walk straight out into leafy suburban streets and ion about 10 minutes or so, we are at the rendevous restaurant. One other plane load beat us, but the others were a little late departing as they had to wait for the cloud to lift.

 

 

We had an excellent lunch; one of the benefits of not being a pilot on the day was that I could also have a glass of wine.. and nice it was, too.

 

As things were later than planned, a few went for a walk to town, but Steve had something on that evening so wanted to get back sooner rather than later. That was fine by me, as by this time, I had decided that I had to get back into flying and knew I would be visiting it again, soon.

 

Back to the airfield, fuel and landing fees paid, we strapped in, run ups done, sat behind a TB20 on the taxciway and it decided to it's run ups right in front of us - ze bar-steward! Anyway, we are off, and sure enough, we can see the clouds across the FIR boundary. However, it is a great feeling and sight coasting in:

 

We north along the eastern edge of the Gatwick zone, and then west along the northern edge. We had a pretty good view of Gatwick and then landed back at Fairoaks, safe and sound (though Steve did practice a side slip in):

(note, the shiny building to the right is the McLarens Formula 1 facility)

(The side slip - not turning final)

 

 

 

Once we got down, we taxied, parked and put the covers on. Although customs are permanently at Fairoaks, no-one wanted to see our passports. We bid farewell and on the Monday, I let Steve know that when a share comes up for sale, let me know. I had to wait around 6 months to start flying due to other commitments, but I effectively retraced this route almost as soon as I got my JAA (now EASA) PPL.

 

The flotilla consisted of 2 PA28 Warrior II, 1 PA28 Dakota, 2 C172s, 1 TB10 and 1 Quick-R Trike.

 

Great day had by all.

 

(Here's a photo of the Quick-R):

 

And here are a couple of the steed for the day:

 

 

I did get my PPL. After my test, it took about 4 weeks for the licence to arrive, and you are not considered licenced until you have it in your posession. About 4 weeks after I received the necessary paper, I retraced the whole thing. Was sunnier and absolute great fun.