Flying stories

[Mazda]

In one of Richard Bach's books he recounts a story of sitting next to a guy on an airline flight. The guy recounted war tales in vivid detail, then summed up the rest of his life in a sentence. His life had no stories any more, and hadn't for decades. Life was dull. Richard thought of the pilots he knew, who all had stories from today, last week, last year.

 

Inspired by Maj Millard's wonderful stories in another thread, I thought it would be great to share some inspiring moments of aviation - good, bad, or in between.

 

You know the ones. Maybe your general friends don't get it, but your flying friends do. The time you departed at first light and watched the sun rising over the sea when you were flying down the coast. Your first solo. The time you introduced a friend to the joy of flight. That fantastic trip to wherever, even with the unexpected diversions and the dodgy motel.

 

Let's escape the regulatory bureacracy in here and think about why we fly in the first place. Don't be shy now, people here will understand - be poetic and descriptive!

 

 

[Guest Maj Millard]

Great Idea Mazda, I'll help you out for sure when I warm up again. There just has to be lots of magic stories out there, I'm looking foward to reading them myself. :rilla:

 

 

[Mazda]

Here's a short one to start things.

 

Rainbows

 

Think back to your childhood, when you marvelled at the beauty of rainbows and even used to sing "red and yellow and pink and green..." Go on, go back there. Did you ever wonder where the rainbow ended? Ah yes, the pot of gold resides at the end of the rainbow, but you could never find it.

 

Rainbows are round and the only reason earthbounders can't see that is because the ground gets in the way.

 

I remember one day taking off solo in a lovely red Pitts for a session of aerobatics. It wasn't the best day, there were showers around, but any day in a Pitts is better than being stuck on the ground. I climbed over the green fields, establishing a "line" between a beach and a mountain, thinking how wonderful it was to be airborne after a busy week in the office. Up here I was free. Just the Pitts and I, enjoying the freedom of the sky.

 

We (Pitts and I) started our sequence, throwing away our cares with every

 

manoeuvre - and there it was. As I looked out to my wing tip I saw a perfectly round rainbow. The pot of gold exists alright, it is just for those that fly, and there we were right in the centre of it.

 

 

[Guest Maj Millard]

Thats called a pilots' halo Mazda, and it looks really good in photos especially with a biplane in it as you would know...............

 

 

[motzartmerv]

Nice one Mazda. Those Rainbows are a treat.

 

I have a story from a few years ago, its a bit long so i will try to keep it short..

 

I started Training in 1998 with a guy in a taildragger skyfox, in central queensland.

 

He lived quite a ways away and would fly to my home strip to train me then fly home again. He was an exellent bloke and fine pilot.

 

I didn't get my certificate because the time between flights was too long, and we mostly would just buzz around and have fun.. Years passed and i moved to n.s.w for work.

 

We had family in qld and would visit a few times a year. When id be there id get onto greg and arrange to meet him and do some more flying. That was great, we were never real interested in following a syllabus, just enjoyed each others company and loved to be airbourne.

 

Just before xmass one year i rang him from my place in wollongong to arrange some flying as i was going back up to qld for a few weeks with the famms.. He told me that if i could get there a couple days earlier i could help him do a 'lollydrop' at a party.. I was exited at the prospect but couldnt arrange time off work. So i had to miss the ride..

 

The night of the party i got a call from a friend in qld.. He told me to sit down, he had some terrible news... "greg had an accident, he's dead. His skyfox broke up doing a lollydrop and his son was with him. They were both killed."

 

I was stunned... Shocked.... beside myself with grieff.. I could barely speak for 2 hours.. My hands shook, i broke out in a sweat.. My head was whizzing with thoughts of guilt, remorse and fear.. I knew it could well have been me in that acft, and i felt it should have been, instead of his son.. His wife and daughter were at the party and saw the wholething.. I felt guilty for not being there, but obviously relieved i wasn't.

 

I didnt attend his funeral, it was far to painfull a prospect.. He was a true gentlmen, and exellent pilot and a great friend..

 

I resolved NEVER to put my butt in an ultralight aircraft EVER again. If i never flew, then nothing could happen, id be safe and sound, and my family would never have to go through what greg's family must have.

 

And for years thats how it was, i never entertained the thought of flying again.. Just didn't go there...

 

But not long after greg died and i stopped flying, i got sick.. i was diagnosed with chronic depressive anxiety dissorder.. It was horrible.. It completly over took my life.. I couldn't work, couldnt enjoy anything, couldn't function at all..

 

This went on for a couple of years in varying degrees. Greg's demise was a major factor (but not the only one) in what was happening to me.. I just couldn't shake the feelings.. i was medicated for it, but i soon stopped that business, id rather take it on alone then do that to myself, the drugs were horrible..

 

So after w while some strange things started happening.. I started dreaming about Greg, always the same dream. We would both be sitting at the airstrip and be looking out at his plane.. Neither of us speaking, just watching.. Always the same.. It really spooked me.. At first i would awake in a sweat, but after a while i got used to it.. And it changed, i enjoyed his company again, i enjoyed looking at his little plane swaying in the breeze.. The dreams were so so real, so vivd, i could still smell fuel after waking up sometimes..But he never spoke, in my dream i knew he was dead.. i knew the plane was gone, but dreams dont follow the rules...

 

One night i was having the same dream and he actually spoke, he said "comon, this is bull$hit.. lets go flying.. Lets take her up"... i was stunned, i said "greg, mate, you died. How can we fly??".. he just smiled and said, " don't let that stop you mate, lets blast off"... I refused and was jolted awake.. A few nights later the dream returned.. And he spoke again..lets go he said... And then he said the thing that changed my life forever, he said " andy, you were born to do this, if you don't fly again your life will never feel fullfilled. It may be dangerous, but there are fates worse then death, and thats to LIVE, a long unfullfilled life.."

 

Ok, that was it... in i got, and we took off... we soared over beautifull country side, huge rolling seas, massive empty spaces. It was so so real, and felt like nothing i could ever explain useing words..

 

When i woke up, i had a new mission in life.. I WOULD become a pilot..

 

Still suffering the effects of the depression i found a school in camden and booked a TIF in a Jab.. I explained why i was there and the chieff was great, he took me up and i kid you not, when we climbed out over the river and the ground slowly dropped away, i had very wet eyes.. something got stuck in them.. I was overjoyed and i said g'day to my old mate...

 

Anyway, sorry for the long story..

 

I continued the training and had a cert in no time.. flew my a$$ off for a year or so and got an instructor rating.. And have flown over 1000 hours since... The depression just vanished not long after i started training again.. And im sad to say, greg doesn't visit my dreams anymore.. I enjoyed his company and the times we shared together in the air, both awake and asleep...

 

cheers...

 

 

[Guest Decca]

Thanks again Andy.

 

I feel the same way as when I read that story in the RAAus mag not so very long ago, but a lot of water has passed under the bridge for both (all?) of us since.

 

Greg obviously had a lot of faith in you.

 

Best wishes, Derek.

 

 

[Guest Maj Millard]

Nice one Merv, and thanks for sharing that with us, I assuming it probabily wasn't that easy....Cheers Mate

 

 

[turboplanner]

I suspect you've also saved a few lives since. Maybe one day we'll get together and I'll tell you some things - can't right now.

 

 

[Guest Maj Millard]

Fate is the hunter...............

 

Merv, I flew with a couple of mates in California for close to ten years. We were tight, and always flew together. One day a transiting doctor pilot visited our airfield, picked up a friend for a ride, and to cut a long story short, they both ended up very dead on top of a hill not far into thier flight. Myself and my two mates were fiirst into the air to look for them. We spotted them within ten minutes, and one of my mates who is a professional paramedic performed a very dangerous landing on the side of the hill close to the wreckage, to lend any assistance. The other mate went back to the field to get further rescue help, whilst I stayed overhead to handle communication. There was no helping them as they had both died on impact. Subsiquent investigations established the crash was caused solely by the doc pilots' inabilities. He was very low time, his training quality was doubtfull, and he had gone out and bought the flashest, fastest UL you could buy at the time.

 

However, not long after, both my best mates quite flying altogether and sold thier planes. One has since died of a sudden heart attack, ten years later, and a week after he had put a deposit on a new aeroplane !. I still communicate with Terry the paramedic regulary on the internet, and he does involve himself with aviation in some ways like taking a ride now and then, and helping out with a couple of big aviation musuems.

 

I never understood why they quit like that, and I still don't. They flew all the time, and we were all very active pilots, possibly the three most active pilots on the field. I never missed a beat, and am still as active as I ever was. The accident just didn't have any impact on me at all, still doesn't, and probabily never will, because the stupid doc just got way ahead of his experience level, and stuffed up.

 

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that the 'old fate plays us a funny card now and then, and you have to go with what you feel at the time. However, work through it ,and you'll sort things out eventually, and then probabily come back even better, as you have Merv.

 

 

[farri]

Motzartmerv`s story touched me now as it did when I first read it in the RAA mag.,When I joined this forum one of the first things I did was to try and track down the guy who had writen the story that had touched me so much and fortunately I did,so again, I thank you Merv.

 

I have many extremely joyfull stories from all of the times that I have shared the wonders of flight, in the Drifter, over some of the most beautifull country, that I`ve been privilaged to fly over all these years,with all of the people who sought me out to come fly with me.

 

Like the one where I took the 85 year old lady up and she told everyone who would listen,until the day she died,that she`d been flying in this beautifull butterfly or the guy who I took up over the Graham Range for his 80th bithday and when we got directly over the top,he said," I`ve wanted to climb that mountain all my life and never got the chance" and I replied " Now you`ve done it without the exercise" or the 15year old kid who`s mum couldn`t afford to pay for a flight so I took him up especially because of that and he came back a couple of years later to do some flight training,and there`s my neighbours 16year old grand nephew who is here from Germany for a few weeks, who I took up the other day and again this afternoon and who knows he may become a pilot some day and I`ve seen the circle rainbow several times over the years.

 

I`ve had a great amount of joy from my flying and I`ve given joy to many many people in return and to me that is what`s it`s all about,like I said I have many many stories.

 

I thought I would tell a couple of joyfull stories but I also have a very sad story and if anyone want`s to hear it,I`ll tell it.

 

Frank.

 

 

[Mazda]

Mozartmerv, you are a real inspiration, that is an amazing story. I'm so thrilled that you did get back into flying and you are now teaching others the joy of flight.

 

I can believe those dreams. I've lost some good pilot friends over the years, and after one of them died, some very weird things started happening. Like the time I was doing flight planning in sight of the front door and the doorbell rang. There was no one there, but I was convinced it was my old friend at the door, wanting to give me a hand with the planning. We had some fun flights at times, I might put one of those on here next.

 

OK Frank, let's have it.

 

 

[farri]

Wolfgang Prejawa had come from Germany to Australia seeking adventure,he owned a Volkswagon workshop in Cairns and was the first guy to get a licence to take tourists up to the tip of cape York in an all wheel drive army blitz truck,he was a true adventurer and one of his passions was the Gyro Copter that he owned.

 

Wolfgang became a member of our newly formed club,"The Far North Queensland Ultralight Association",now called,"Atherton Adventure Fliers" and soon lined up with all the other members wanting to obtain an AUF pilot certificate,I was the club instructor,training was conducted from my strip and the Drifter was our training aircraft.

 

Wolfie, as he was mostly called, was quite skillfull and before too long he had his pilot certificate and was flying the Drifter regularly but the call of his Gyro was always there,so one day, he decided to come and do some practise with it, he had two friends with him as observers and the evidence they gave of what happened that day, was, that he was doing a fast run down the strip,got airborne to about 50 feet and nose dived straight into the ground.

 

I was working on another part of the property that day when someone came to get me,saying that there had been an accident and that an ambulance had gone down to the strip, as quickly as I could I went to the strip and on ariving I was horrified at what I saw, the Gyro was smashed and a paramedic was performing CPR on Wolfgang and as soon as I saw his injuries I realised that there was no chance of survival,the paramedic soon stoped and said it was all over.

 

I was almost a basket case by this stage but I worked real hard to keep it together,just barely making it,we picked Wolfgang up, laid him in the ambulance and shut the doors then just when you`d think things couldn`t get any worse,they did,the ambulance wouldn`t start,the battery had failed,I had to go and get another vehicle to jump start the ambulance, what made it worse was that the guy said the battery had been crook for while and it was while I was putting the jumper leads on that I lost it and broke down.

 

Because I knew Wolfgang so well I was asked to go and identify the body in the morgue,I had never done that before,and I never want to have to do it again in my life.

 

It took me a while to recover,for me,when I take someone flying,I feel a sharing of each others spirit and I had taught Wolfgang to fly and let his spirit soar but I finaly felt at peace by thinking that he had left this world doing what he truely enjoyed and wanted to do and I was happy for his spirit to live here and come flying with me whenever he wished.

 

Frank.

 

Ps,Wasn`t easy to write,took me back.

 

 

[Guest Decca]

Thank you Frank, on behalf of all of us here.

 

I am glad you were able to tell this story, but I do understand how difficult it must have been. I also hope that in telling of this incident it has helped you.

 

Thinking of you, Decca.

 

 

[farri]

I need to point out that I had nothing whatsoever to do with Wolfgang flying his Gyro Copter,I simply allowed him to use the strip and after the accident I stoped all Gyros from using using it.

 

Frank.

 

 

[icebob]

Hi,

 

Picture this, the middle of winter at Nowra 1975, horizontal rain and as cold as. night flying had ended and it was about 0230, we had six hours of maintenance to do on the Wessex 31B's when a call came through for SAR. A woman had fallen and broken her leg, was expecting and an ambulance could not reach her as she was on a yacht 2 kms out to sea.

 

Roll out a helo, spread the blades and power up, only one doctor and one aircrew left so three of us were "volunteered" to go too. Before arrival the yacht had made it to a fishing wharf but the ambo's wanted us to fly her to hospital asap.

 

We landed to find out she was over 200kgs; in labor and had the left leg broken in two places.

 

We had to use two stretchers one turned upside down to carry her weight and it took all of us, aircrew(4),2 pilots and the four ambo's to get her into the Wessex(the doctor supervised???).

 

We then flew back to Nowra (HMAS Albatross) where our little forklift waited, unloaded her (done this before)and got her into the ambulance to go to the local hospital, oh yes she had a girl in the chopper, both well but all of us were exhausted and the maintenance crew we left behind cleaned out the Wessex it took a good couple of hours but smelt for weeks. for about a year we called that chopper "the baby carriage".

 

One of a few good stories.

 

Bob.

 

 

[Guest ozzie]

Back when i was working for thruster we had built the first glashouse and i had put a few hours on it and had started letting my mate Ray (major you know him) do a few jumps from it. we wondered on the way up about how far aft the CG could get before it got out of hand. so we were at 4000 ft and turned over the drop zone and ray climbed out and was hanging off the side i told him to slowly move back onto the fuel tank mount tubes and lean back a bit. i already had the power right up and was pushing forward on the stick when the nose just reared steeply up and it stalled. i had full forward stick now and i looked back and ray had lost his grip and fallen on to the two rear tubes and was trying to grab the fuse tube by this time we were starting to backslide and roll off to one side i put the stick back to center and ray was really working hard to get off and i was working really hard trying to keep the wings level without ripping anything off. the alti was starting to unwind pretty fast and we were just above 2000ft when ray managed to get himself upright but was still way to aft. i yelled at him that i would be leaving at a 1000ft with or without him. ray managed to get himself sorted out but in the process ripped the fuel line out of the plastic tank then left, but i could not get the nose to drop so i kick in some rudder and let the thing roll around and it dropped it's nose just as the carbs ran dry. i was just above a grand when i got it flying again. did a slow gentle glide back onto the strip. ray was already on the ground and came running over. we looked at each other then we both burst out laughing. when we both calmed down a bit and stopped shaking ray made some crack that maybe that was a little to far aft. and off we went again rolling around on the ground laughing. one elevator was slightly bent as well as both the rear tubes. some may think that what we did was pretty stupid and i suppose i have to agree but to see the funny side of it they would have had to have been there. Ray and i pushed the limits more than just a few times back then but we always managed to get away with it. probably more thru dumb ass luck than skill. Ray passed away in 98, the dumb ass luck could not beat the cancer

 

Ozzie

 

 

[Guest Maj Millard]

Except for the final line that's the sort of blow by blow story I enjoy reading Ozzie, you were wise (smart) to have a chute on, and I have no doubt you would have kissed her goodbye at a grand if you had got to that point.

 

:thumb_up::thumb_up:

 

 

[Guest Maj Millard]

Nice job ICEBOB, no doubt the thought of flying in a chopper induced her to labor !!

 

 

[Mazda]

[Guest Maj Millard]

Heres' a quicky for you, but it is fresh. Did a 'quick' 50 hrly oil change on the Lightwing, about two weeks ago. Would normally have been back in the air the same day. That was until I spotted the crack in one exhaust pipe, during my 'quick' look around in the engine bay. Two weeks later after weld repairs on the pipe, I'm back in the air today. In the meantime whilst waiting, I got to fit that elect fuel-boost pump that I've been trying to get to for six months, (an option on the Lightwing). Also sorted a minor, but annoying intercom problem, that I have been trying to get to for six months.

 

Got the exhaust all fitted about three today. Did some full power ground run-ups with new boost pump both on and off, all good, no leaks in any of the new fuel lines. Took off on the looonngg... strip at Montepelier in case there were any fuel problems, with new boost pump on. Strip ahead, strip to the left, and the old war-time strip (pretty much disused) to the right. All good on takeoff, then climbed to altitude for .5 hr. On return to Montpelier decided to use my favorite short grass strip 22, which had the wind straight down it. On downwind spotted a single wallaby sitting right in the middle of the runway. They are breeding like rabbits up here after the big rains earlier this year. Because this runway is short and a bit uphill I figured I would land in the first 50 mts, and should be well stopped by the time I reach the wallaby half way down the strip, which I was.

 

As I taxied up to him wanting him to dissappear into the bush, two magpies started attacking him/her and did the job for me, which I thought was pretty cool !...we birds have to work together don't we ................................keep a close eye on those exhaust systems every chance you get. The pipe I found had cracked all but a 1/4 inch of the diameter, and had it separated could have been serious. I often do long flights over mongrel country......................................................

 

 

[farri]

Not recent, but for those who may doubt it, I can assure you this is true and one of the down sides of landing on a beach that is not hard enough.

 

I took one of my local neighbours for a flight out to coast which is only 10 mts away and being such a pleasant day and low tide,decided to land on the beach,now this guy is about 115kg which makes for a bit more all up weight than when I`m on my own.

 

My Drifter originaly had AN3 or 3/16th bolts holding the stub axels into the landing legs and I always thought that this size bolt was a bit weak,this landing proved it.

 

The landing itself wasn`t the problem as it was a good one but as the wheels touched the sand I heard and felt something crack and on checking it out I found the bolt in the left stub axel had broken,"shucks what now? got to get off this beach,can`t get out any other way except but by boat", so I twisted the wheel back into place and hoped that it would stay in place long enough to get off the beach and you wouldn`t believe it,it did, must have jamed on the broken bolt,then once in the air,it hit me," that wheel could fall off" and sure enough,half way back the stub axel came out of the leg and the wheel was hanging there on the brake cable.

 

Now I learnt to take off and land on one wheel a long time ago and so I wasn`t concerned about the landing but more about loosing the wheel so on landing I simply did what I knew to do which was, hold it on the good wheel that I had,wait until the speed was low enough then gently put the leg without the wheel onto the ground,worked a treat,no problem except some egg on my face and a bit more excitement for my neighbour and by the way,he did come flying with me again.

 

I changed AN3 to AN4 bolts before the next flight.

 

Frank,

 

Ps, Don`t try it for fun.

 

"Flying is easy,Landing on one leg a bit more of a callenge".

 

 

[Guest Maj Millard]

Frank I sheared one of those same bolts after I hit a wallaby just after liftoff (killed him) must have just hit him with the bottom of the tyre, not the wheel spat. The wheel spat ended up vertical instead of horizontal, but the wheel didn't fall off. I had my rear seater put his leg out and kick the spat horizontal again and we landed fine.

 

Yes I think those bolts probabily need to be a bit bigger also........................

 

 

[Guest ozzie]

More crazy madness

 

Several months after i started skydiving in '75, i first met my good mate Ray on the way to height in the old C185 "Bula Bitch'. It was Ray who introduced me to hang gliding when he talked me into doing the first 'dual' flight in a HG at Stanwell. I'll leave the details of that amazing first for the book. But we continued to fly many more flights together that were really lessons. When the wind and weather wasn't playing fair for either jumping or flying at Stanwell, Ray would take me out to the sandhills at nearby Kurnell to give me some solo flight lessons off the 30ft high dunes. Usually another friend and instructor Arnold Cohen would come out with us and they would spend the day yelling out instructions while i tried to soar these small dunes in the light and fickel winds. Stanwell was a easy place to fly compared to these small dunes and after a couple of passes i'd either lose it and end up carrying the wing back up to the top or end up dragging a wing and cartwheeling along the dune face much to their amusement. The sandhills on a Saturday were a hive of activity. There were several schools all fighting for a bit of airspace and some of the methods of teaching were downright hilarious. The TASSA school was one that comes to mind, with a basic ragallo type wing that had a rope attached to each wing tip with someone hanging onto them, the poor student would run like crazy and bore down the dune with the main instructor yelling instuction and if they veared off the person on the rope woud give it a yank to bring them back on course. Most of these flights ended in fullstop face plants at the base of the hill. Ray and Arnold being experts and who loved showing off,went to great lengths to upset the instructors would fly up and down the dune face without a harness. They would simply pick up the hang glider and holding on to the up rights put one foot on the A frames base and hop off into the breeze. Standing in the A frame they could really throw their weight around and could turn the wing really quick and make the most of the marginal lift, always landing were they took off from. The TASSA instructors would yell and scream things like being irresponsible louts ect. Of course it just egged them on. We were pretty organised back then and had an esky full of drink and food for when we got hungry in the back of the car. We toss to see who would fly down and who would walk. Have lunch then go back for more fun. On this Saturday Ray came up with a brilliant idea, (it was always Ray who would come up with some mad idea) to test the theroy of "if weight creates speed and speed creates lift" then if we all hop on the A frame then we should be able to just about get to the car park. So with Ray on one side myself on the other and Arnie in the middle we launched into the breeze. It was looking real good for about 5 seconds then Arnie lost his grip and fell backwards. Being the poor sport he is instead of taking a fall for the team, he grabbed both rear wires and ended up with the A frame base behind his knees. Opps, another aft CoG problem and the kite pointed its nose skyward. Ray and I looked at each other. I think we were both thinking the same thing but it was Ray who spoke first and simply said "power off" and we both stepped off into space.

 

By this time we had flown out over the base of the dune and had a 20 to 25ft freefall to look forward to. Just enough time to get 'face to earth' and think this is going to smart a bit and i hit the sand trying to make myself as flat as i could to spread the impact. With the wind knocked out of both of us Ray and I had just enough time to roll aside to avoid being drilled by the wings keel as it backslid into the sand next to us, with Arnie still caught up in the rear wires. Arnold was muttering something about 'told you so' as Ray and i tried to get our breath back and to top it off all three TASSA instructors came over and gave us an ear full. We ended up having lunch back in Steve Cohen's HG factory as we replaced the bent A frame uprights and the bent keel. Did we learn our lesson? Kidding aren't you. There's a few more stories of crazy maddness to come.

 

TASSA = The Australian Self Soar Association, fore runner to the HGFA

 

Ozzie