And now for something different...

[sixtiesrelic]

It was hot.

 

The engineer was sweatin’ and squintin’as he fastened the last of the inspection panels, while the sun reflected shimmering heat off the tailplane into his face. The owner was sweatin’ as he tidied up the doorway of the cabin where junk had accumulated during the hundred hourly and the Solomon Island’s airworthy inspection.

 

Couple of unattached rear seats, bottles of water, lunch wrappings, tool boxes were being transferred to the back of the Engineer’s ute, sharing the tray with other toolboxes, rags, a couple of twenty litre Shell oil pails; the sort of stuff that’s associated with big round engines.

 

 

The blue and white lady stood proudly with her slim, round nose pointing up to the sky, looking over a couple of puppy like Cessna 140s

 

 

I stood leanin’ against the airframe in the wedge of shade it provided as I waited to go for a bit of a ride in her.

 

DC-3s are better. You can stand waiting under the wing on a hot day.

 

Beech Eighteens are big planes beside a Cessna, but ya can’t stand comfortably below the wing.

 

A thin Canadian bloke with white hair drained the tanks and sumps pre-flight as the last check while I’d wandered around with my cameras.

 

A pair of Pratts, wearin’ two, bladed, Hamilton Standard paddle props would soon growl and blow smoke and make that ka-poonka- ta, ka-poonka- ta noise that ChopChop, Chainy and Glenn think’s music.

 

 

Bob had said, “Yeah’ when I asked if I c’d come, when I heard him say he was takin’ her up for an engine run.

 

He’s regarded as a bit of a buccaneer by many, but most of the stories have been “modified”. He’s just a ‘one off’. Does things others dream of.

 

I hadn’t seen him since the old days when I’d gotten into the mainline. He was a legend then, well to me and my peers. He’d left Ansett PNG a couple of years before we got there. He and his brother had left the territory for Ansett Oz.

 

Their father was still a Captain up there, who we flew with, when we got to wear one thin bar on our shoulders and heard the legends of Bob’s shinanninins.

 

In the mainline he was one of the larger than life jet, First Officers. Talked to everyone like they were old mates and surprised us all by leaving the security of an Aussie airline to seek adventure in Gipsy style endeavours.

 

He’s had plenty of them and he’s embarking on a newie up in the Solomons, operating a coupla Beech Eighteens and a Grumman Goose.

 

I chose a rear seat... get pictures of the ground behind the wing from there. All the rest would have the great slab of a thing in the way.

 

 

The others aboard were the old Canadian pilot who had lots of hours on the “Eighteen” and plenty on the ”Three”. He’d flown a Three to Oz with Bob from Asia many years ago.

 

He’s lending a hand in this new operation to train up the other bloke, a thirty year old heavy set, fella up in the front row. He’s a Twin Otter pilot who’s converting to the Beech. The other passenger was a young bloke who I suspect is as keen as mustard and is going to learn to fly.

 

This eighteen has big double doors for cargo and the cabin wall has placards of the max weight that can be placed in each cabin zone.

 

 

The walls and floor have rails attached which tie down rings can be anchored to secure cargo.

 

Single seats were comfortable and windows large and close together.

 

Bob and the engineer were up the front, messin’ around for a while and we rapidly got hot in the cabin.

 

Engine priming was, nine pumps of the throttle while turning the engine over at the same time. I was concentrating on holding the zoomed camera steady above my head to capture the cockpit action so had to wait till I got home to see this on the computer.

 

Hit the starter and there was a wheezy, sorta normal, aeroplane engine start.

 

She grunted and tried …and kept going… at about three hundred RPM for a long time while as Bob yelled, “…flooded her!”

 

Another nine primes and Number one started nicely.

 

 

Sorry! the Pratt and Whitney Single Row, Wasp Junior just doesn’t really do IT for me. Now a Three’s start is a belly butterfly, producer! Lots of clanking and rattling, coughs and splutters and clouds of smoke before she settles down to eighteen spark plugs firing in their right order and exhaust gasses race the route around the manifold to freedom.

 

After taxiing to the holding point there was a long run-up as the engineer took figures of the engine readings.

 

 

There’s a lovely sound of the props slapping the air, while at idle because of the paddles, and the run-up has beaut throatiness about it’s roar while props are exercises and Mags checked.

 

The sounds on takeoff are higher note than the ”three”, more like other light aircraft, (no gearbox reducing the prop RMP) but the waxing and waning as the engines get into sync while the props hunt in the early stages of the take-off run have a romance from the olden days that just ain’t there in jets.

 

The high whistle if the supercharger is missing too.

 

The flight… just a fly from Redcliffe to Caboolture where she normally lives. We flew over Deception Bay and the lower end of the Bribie passage at fifteen hundred and set off for downwind at Caboolture.

 

 

There was a fair bit of haze and the windows were a little dirty on the outside with milky tracks sloping back where the rainwater had found a path from the roof in the last few weeks while she was parked outside. The auto focus wanted to capture these and there was a fair bit of reflection from the cabin that needed a hand beside the lens to block out. Gotta’ watch ya’ don’t hold the lens against the window and cop the vibrations.

 

Looking back out the window we got to share a view that passengers in great big modern aeroplanes got to see fifty and sixty years ago; the small tail sitting out on the end of the tailplane.

 

 

Shared that sight with Aussies who flew in the Lockheeds .. Electra, Electra Junior and Super Electra.

 

Most noticeable thing on landing… a three pointer, was the racket the tail wheel makes on the grass surface. It is magnified up the leg into the rear cabin. Sound’s like something’s gunna bust. The rear cabin wall wasn’t attached because of the inspection. This has a wad of insulation on the back, which would deaden the sound.

 

Was it fun?

 

Course … it was a ride in a plane!

 

 

[Guest 757GB]

Very nice! Thanks for sharing!

 

GB

 

 

[Guest Chainsaw]

Normal stuff from you Den, Brilliant! You are a true story-teller.

 

 

[Guest Glenn]

A great story teller indeed. Absolutely brilliant

 

 

[Guest Darren Masters]

Brilliant Sixties! Well-told and keeps you posted to the story the whole time. Wow, we all have our own unique style of trip reports don't we? Maybe we should have Trip Report of the Month. Thanks again for sharing

 

 

[Uncle Chop Chop]

Magnificent Read Sixties... Oh and yeah..... I LOVE THE SOUND OF ROUND!!!!!