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Back in the 80s while working as a television news reporter, a crew and I were despatched to spend a week covering major flooding in the border rivers area of northern NSW and southern Queensland. To get around, we were issued with a small aerial fleet of a fixed wing twin and a helicopter. On the final day of our assignment we flew the JetRanger on an exhausting seven hour journey around the outback, racing to end up at the small NSW bush town of Nyngan to meet an appointment at the local Telecom telephone exchange/repeater station to feed our pictures back to the TV station in Sydney. Now these were the days when Telecom could have run the show properly if it wasn’t for the customers. And if you didn’t turn up for your booking within about three minutes of the appointed time well, sorry, bad luck, too late, missed out, queue up and fill in all the forms again! We arrived overhead Nyngan in the JetRanger with only minutes to spare. But the Telecom compound didn’t have a car park, and the local airport was too far away from town by road (anyway, the only taxi was in Dubbo that day!). So we made a command decision; land in the middle of town on a large area of flat, vacant ground on the main street, alongside the railway line. The locals were much in awe as we landed, and as three likely lads disembarked from the helicopter with various bits of electronic gear under their arms, sprinted to the Telecom exchange (we got there in time!). Our helicopter pilot, a Royal Navy trained, nonchalant, British sort of chap, took all this in his stride, tied down the rotor blades and made himself comfortable in the back with a newspaper. Comfortable, at least until there was a knock on the window, and Constable Plod announced “You can’t park here, mate. You’ll have to move along!” The complexities of TV deadlines and the Telecom bureaucracy were a little beyond Plod, who felt the majesty of the law had to be observed, and so proceeded to take the helicopter’s “particulars”, so a parking infringement notice could be issued! The locals later assured us this particular constable had previously been stationed “out in the country”, and he wasn’t quite used to the sophisticated sort of things that happened “in town”. Oh and the parking infringement notice seemed to get lost in the mail. But those were the days when Australia Post…. (Ross Dunlop, Sydney, 2000)
About ten years ago, I had just graduated from my Iroquois conversion course with the RAAF and was sent off on an exercise in northern NSW. Definitely the lighter side of aviation! My squadron’s job was to support the hostile air threat with Winjeels providing Forward Air Control (FAC) for a squadron of ‘baby knucks’ flying Macchis from 2OCU. The Macchis were well suited to the hilly terrain we were operating in, as the Mirage would have had trouble turning in such tight areas without crossing into Queensland halfway through a turn! During one of the troop lifts on which I was copilot, we were returning from dropping off another ‘chalk’ of troops when we were bounced by a couple of Macchis. We had the frequency that the Forward Air Control (FAC) Winjeel was using to guide the Macchis and we were expecting them, so it was “all eyes out” so we would know when we had been spotted. Anyway, the loadmaster on the left side behind me, was the first to spot them and called that they were “rolling in”. Suddenly, he yelled in a voice which had rapidly shifted up a couple of octaves “They’re shooting at us, they’re really shooting at us!!!” I looked around and saw the lead Macchi headon and approaching us from the side. “It’s OK mate”, I said, “that’s the anti col you’re looking at!”.
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Do you have a tale to tell? If so, then why don’t you share it with the world by sending it in to ‘Tales’, Australian Aviation, PO Box 3105, Weston Creek ACT 2611 or fax it on (06) 288 2021. Readers who have their tales published will receive a six issue subscription with our compliments. Current subscribers will, of course, have six issues credited to their current sub. You can remain anonymous if you prefer and the editor naturally has the right to edit material as required. So go to it, tell us your favourite aviation tale, and join in the fun. 94 Australian Aviation December 1994. My ‘loady’ had seen the Macchi’s belly anti collision light. Because we were looking at the Macchi head on, as the light rotated, it appeared to flash at us. We didn’t hear much from the ‘loady’ for the rest of the flight. A second incident that day came when we heard the Macchis rolling in on us again after we had shaken the previous pair off. We heard one call to another that he had spotted a lone Iroquois in a valley and we knew it was us, so we started to try to out manoeuvre them. Because of our tight turning circle, both Macchis overshot and had to turn around in the next valley before coming back to try again. Imagine their frustration when they couldn’t find us. Had they looked at the small copse of trees in the centre of the very large paddock we’d been caught in, they would have noticed a lot of movement from the trees on an otherwise still day. Yep, we were hovering and hiding in the middle. It worked too!
Pet Hate!
The job of an airline baggage handler often has hidden pitfalls as this fellow new to the job at Sydney Airport was soon to discover. Among the cargo to be loaded aboard the aircraft bound for Brisbane were two pet containers, one containing a dog and the other containing a cat. Unfortunately our new baggage handler (BH) placed both containers adjacent to each other, resulting in a violent cat and dog fight which the passengers had to endure for the duration of the flight to Brisbane. Word was soon sent back to Sydney and our young BH was counselled to the effect that he was never to place dog and cat containers next to each other again. The very next day our neophyte BH was loading a flight to Melbourne which included separate containers housing a dog, a cat and 12 prize chickens. Remembering the advice of his boss our BH ensured that the dog and cat were well separated but unfortunately placed the container with the dog, which happened to be a large German Shepherd, next to the container of chickens. During the flight the inquisitive chickens poked their heads through the wire of their cage and into the cage belonging to the German Shepherd, which
had been conveniently placed immediately adjacent. The large dog welcomed this inflight service and enjoyed a tasty meal of 12 chicken heads. Needless to say the airline staff, and particularly the chicken owners, were not impressed with the condition of their cargo when it arrived in Melbourne. Subsequently it was observed that our new BH had transferred voluntarily to the Admin Dept after a total of just two days as a baggage handler! (Graham Moss, Flynn, 2615)
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