Tales

BM123: Cleared lineup 24.

Helicopter G-ZZZZ: I think that’s Phoenix Park over there.

Wife: Don’t be !@#$ stupid, that’s Baldoyle Racecourse! Pilot: !@#$, it’s not, it’s Phoenix Park! Wife: It’s !@#$* Baldoyle!!!

(A difference of only 40 klics or so!)

EJ-AVV: Victor Victor turning final for runway 24.

Tower: Roger Victor Victor, continue. Break, BM123, cleared for takeoff, runway 24, left turn, direct Liffey.

BM123: With all due respect, sir, I’m not going anywhere until those two clowns in the helicopter figure out where the !#$@% they are!

(P Purcell, Lane Cove)

Never Trust a Sailor!

Having learned valuable lessons during WW2, no-one appreciated the importance of anti submarine warfare more than the British. During the early 1960s an RAF Shackleton crew found themselves assigned to test the RAF’s latest sonobuoy. After transiting to the test area and believing they had made contact with their Royal Navy target submarine, the crew proceeded to drop a pattern of buoys and settled down to track their quarry. However they were somewhat surprised when their ‘victim’ surfaced and revealed itself as a Soviet sub. The RAF crew could only watch in horror as the sub captain dispatched a team who took one of the buoys on board then submerged with their not so top secret device.

(Tom Hamilton, Richmond)

Bad Timings

During the Vietnam War FAC (Forward Air Control) pilots soon learned that enemy ground fire was not their only hazard. A Cessna O-1 Bird Dog was marking a target for a flight of F-100 Super Sabres (the F-100 leader callsign was Misty) when the leader confirmed he had spotted the FAC’s (callsign Tamali) target indicators. Tamali then informed Misty he was orbiting at their 10 o’clock position. However, as the first F-100 ran in the FAC pilot found himself sharing the airspace with a full salvo of Zuni rockets. A very frightened FAC pilot squawked “Misty Misty this is Tamali, I am at your 10 o’clock I repeat 10 o’clock. Listen you mother*!#@*g when the big hand is on 12 and the little hand is on 10 it’s 10 o!#@ing clock.”

(Tom Hamilton, Richmond)

Name Games

In the immediate postwar years the Australian air routes were dominated by Douglas DC-3 and DC-4 aircraft. These, and the Convairs that joined them in 1948, had no public address systems and passengers were informed as to who was upfront and who was serving the coffee, by nameplates fitted in a holder on the cockpit door. Crew rostering in those days was fairly free and easy in comparison with the complex seniority based bidding system devised for a later generation of fliers. Consequently, an unofficial diversion in those more innocent times was to concoct interesting combinations of pilot and hostess names.

Not unexpectedly we could create a reasonable spectrum of colours, including Black, White, Grey, Brown and Green and a Captain Pepperday made a good pairing for a Miss Peppercorn. At one time we had hostesses Milde and Wilde and a Captain Savage suitable for casting with a Miss Gripp. Our finest effort was probably for the inaugural visit by a Convair to the Tasmanian ports of Wynyard and Devonport, when we were able to arrange for hostesses Audrey Wynyard and Pat Davenport to serve in the cabin. It is hoped that our passengers enjoyed our feeble attempts at humour.

(R Hilliard, Kew)

Fire authorities in California found a corpse in a burnt out section of forest whilst assessing the damage done by a forest fire. The deceased male was dressed in a full wetsuit, complete with dive tank, flippers and face mask. A post mortem examination revealed that the person died not from burns but from massive internal injuries. Dental records provided a positive identification. Investigators then set about determining how a fully clad diver ended up in the middle of a forest fire.

It was revealed that, on the day of the fire, the person went for a diving trip off the coast — some 20 kilometres away from the forest. The firefighters, seeking to control the fire as quickly as possible, called in a fleet of helicopters with very large buckets. The buckets were dropped into the ocean for rapid filling, then flown to the forest fire and emptied. You guessed it! One minute our diver was making like Flipper in the Pacific; the next he was doing breaststroke in a fire bucket 300 meters in the air. Apparently, he extinguished exactly 1.78m (5 feet 10 inches) of the fire. Some days it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed.

(Steven Vincent, Manly)

Buzz Bombs

The following item came from a recent edition of AvWeek. Some fellows on a supply flight over the Pacific had become conscious of an annoying buzzing sound coming from a couple of depth bombs in their ammo cargo and, not liking it a bit, they contacted the base for advice. The substance of the reply they got was, “think nothing of it”. But they kept thinking of it anyhow, and finally they muscled the two 500 pounders out into space — where, even before hitting the water below the charges burst with a sky rending WHAM-M-M! Five minutes later, there came a call back from base. “Change in earlier message regarding depth bomb …. Further consideration indicates defects …. Jettisoning of charges is suggested.”