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Whist is bloody freezing back home, My New Zealand day starts with a bit of hazy sunshine and pleasantly warm air. The new Zealand summer may be waning, but I'm going to enjoy it, none the less. It really is a beautiful day for flying. In contrast to my previous flight with Edgar, Today I'm flying something a little smaller. Borrowing a Twin Otter from Mount cook airlines, I make sure I have the baton, (A drink with John is never just one Drink!) and head out the field to inspect my new friend. Cookie, as she'll be known for the flight, is in good order, looking almost factory fresh. It's cl
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Firstly, a disclaimer. Any character resemblance in this tale to any real person dead or dead is purely coincidental. I apologise for the lengthy PIREPS that this is. It is more another chapter on my adventure around the world with the baton. But as this is the last leg in this section, this will give you something to read while Mikael is sorting out the next sections runners. Let me wind you back a bit… At the end of leg 15, I was sitting in the bar at Jorge Chaves International, in darkest Peru, trying to spin out the one pint I could afford I waited for Brian to arrive. His fligh
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Boyyo, the bosses sure are gonna be ripped at me, late again for my leg. I was arrested again, hey, it wasn't my fault, honest. So there I was in a local Tongan bar, got here a month ago you see, talking up one of the local girls. With no nefarious intentions running through my mind, honest. When these locals boys get in my face and, well, to make a long story short, 30 days for disorderly conduct. They were stronger than they looked. I tried to explain what happened to the judge but you know how these locals stick together. By the way, the only way to get from Chile, my last leg, t
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The call I got from Mikael was not reassuring. He was definately not the calm guy I met before. Apparently the Baton was in some kind of danger of being inpounded by the Police at Raratonga. Apparantly somebody stole a 767 from Fed-Ex and was recognized. Unfortunately that someone also had possession of the Baton and tried to hide it in one of the engine inlets of a Concorde! And now the baton was in custody of the local police. What happened to the plane thief was unclear. All this, combined with the credit card overspending had Joe in a foul mood - comparable with Buffalo Joe on a really -
----DAY 1---- Here I sit, in Tahiti's worst snowstorm ever, on a freakily chilly morning. The weather seems to be scaring the deity-fearing locals, and I'm very keen to leave before I'm sacrificed. I want to return to the more usual Pacific climate - this time tomorrow I should be waking up in a hotel overlooking a pristine beach in Rarotonga. It's only a few hundred miles of water and the occasional island, so it should be plain-sailing, right? The sun's peeking over the horizon as the engines start up, and I soon call for pushback. [/url] It's just me on board - the tail might
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I wasn't sure about my this particular assignment. It had involved a red-eye to Auckland, via Singapore, where the airport facilities had been shut down to the minimal night-time vending machines, if you could locate them. From there, the island-hopping Air Tahiti Nui ATR 42-500 had finally deposited me on this narrow strip of land called Totegegie, part of the Gambier group of islands. This is where I was to pick up my 'rental', a beat up DHC Beaver painted a hideous shade of candy floss pink: I' d been given a couple of stick-on sheets promoting the company's support of a totally unknow -
It had come around again fast, the Challenge that is, it was time to take to the skies with the baton, I scarcely had time to call Sharon to check her availability. As expected, she was draped around a Russian oligarch on his liner just off Copacabana beach. She was excited though that she would soon be able to take to the skies, she said “We’ll meet again don’t know where, don’t know … “(That’s enough singing..Ed) So she could turn up at any place at any time! (Cont..p94) So welcome to the first flight of ATWC5. It is my honour to kick off the challenge using the company jet, a Cessna
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Like Alice’s white rabbit, I’m late. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I couldn’t fly Leg 6, and now I find myself jet lagged, thousands of miles from home and waiting for dawn to get going on leg 22. I’m also down a friend today. Lenore, my faithful 737-900 is pouting back at Cardiff, getting a C check. It’s just as well, as the flight down to Easter Island would have been very interesting with her needing to stop for fuel every now and again. So with Lenore out of commission I found myself short of a choice of aircraft. The upcoming route is not what I expected. I had hoped to fly something m
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Hi all, So, around to carry the baton again. Last time I did it in a VC-10. Not a lot of technology - just cable runs and good old basic navigation. And that last point was the bit I failed. Incorrect alignment of the INS spelled downfall. This time, there would be no mistake. I was knocking around in Chile for some reason that has left me. I was enjoying it, anyway. The railways here look quite nice. I was simply observing them until this big Australian came up to me with the Baton. Curious, I asked him who he was. He said he was Gonzo. Not quiet sure about that name...... The nex -
After disembarking my pax of itinerant mine workers at Campo Arenal (SA11), I have to ferry the B200 'King Air' to Tucuman (SANT). Apparently it has been chartered by yet another mining company for tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I already had work lined up out of Tucuman. This wasn't going to be a flash job by any stretch of the imagination, but it was the flying that made it so interesting because it is so challenging - 'hot and high'. Departing straight out, it was a quick climb to clear the Aconquija Mountains before descending down into the valley known as the Chaco-Pampean fla
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I awoke to the sordid sounds of music South American style from a juke box outside in the corridor of my hotel. I had arrived the evening before quite tired after my trip down from LA, but after a few shots of the Tequila I had headed for my room to check my eyelids for pinholes. Now the sun was up and the music loud. I had gained a place in the well known ATWC and it was my turn to take the baton onward. I had been given the departure and destination airports from Joe, But what was this (SA11) Campo Arenal? It sounded like something the doctor would prescribe to stick up your arse.
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Where have I been since Leg 5 that brought me to Morocco and set me on another bender for a couple of days? Hey, it's a fun town. Deciding to clean up my act, I jumped on the sober wagon, flew to Bolivia on a commercial flight (still no first class tickets from the Committee ) and met a nice local girl named Yamii in the town of Oruro. She makes a living as a storage hunter and was nice enough to show me the ropes and give me a place to crash. It's not a great living, money is tight nowadays, so her bidding limit is pretty low. Still, she does pretty well. We even pooled our money together an
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**Yawn** **Yaaawn** Where... where am I?? Fighting the nausea, dizzyness and general disorientation that comes after a couple of hard nights at the local watering holes I start to take a look around me to try to get some sort of grip on matters again.. Outside the sun is shining hard from a clear blue sky, and then my eyes gets drawn to a map on the coffee table... Oh S***, I gasp as things start to get back to me. The ATWC, and the Baton... It should have been in, where was it now, ah there's the flight plan too.. Oruro?? Yeah that sounds familiar.. and I should
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Well, as it turned out, John had quite a stay in Lima. I just so happened, that I was on holiday in South America with my nearest and dearest, when I got a call from Mutley's HQ. Wifey had won an all inclusive wine tasting trip, to the finest grape producing regions of Chile. All paid for by some womens magazine that wifey reads. Well who was I to turn my nose up at a bit of quaffing? It all started when we had already been to a couple of vineyards and had settled down for a day of rest, when I got the call. I was requested if possible, to head for Lima in Peru, where I would have to meet
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I was taking some well earned time off in Nantes while the Tiger moth was being flown back to the UK by the wife when I got a call from Mikael to give me the heads up on the next section. ‘You are on for leg 15’ says he. ‘Where the flip is that?’ says I. Actually I didn’t say flip, but this is a family orientated forum, you get my point. ‘SEQU is Mariscal Sucre International in Quito, Ecuador and then its off to SPIM, Jorge Chavez International, Lima, Peru.’ He enlightened me, but not a lot. ‘Jorge Chavez’ says I, ‘didn’t he play for Chelsea?’ I ask. ‘No you dumhet’ he say
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Unfortunately, I have to start this pirep with an apology. For some reason only a third of the screenshots I took of my leg turned out to be usable - the rest were garbled - and I only noticed the problem today. So my script has gone out of the window and I'm going to have to wing it. I do apologize for the truncated leg and the below-par story. I'll definitely try to make it up in the next one. So without any further ado, here we go... After picking up the baton from Rob (and after recovering my hearing - that Vulcan is loud!) I made my way over to my aircraft for this leg, the beau
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After picking up the baton from Kasper Joe had a quite word in my ear 'The company card has taken a real battering, so make sure that next aircraft you use is a civillian aircraft' So I scanned through the available aircraft and found one which fit the bill perfectly... With the flight plan filed, clearance obtained and Joe going crazy it was time to depart and head off. The weather forecast wasn't bad, but storms were in the area There wasn't a great deal to see en-route as it was all over water, but REX more than made up for it with some fantastic clouds
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"You're late." Sharon was not amused and she made sure I knew that. I guess that pilots running around with other women during HER event didn't sit right with her. And now I was late and she was angry. "Are you still looking to expand into SAR and Firefighting?" she asked. I grew quiet. She knew I had a signed contract for providing just that and that I was in dire need for some assets to cover the contract. The stipulated penalties would bankrupt me If I did not come up with the goods from January 1st 2014. And I still had to buy the planes, probably certify them for the US and Canada and
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PIREP Leg 11 - Princess Julina Int (TNCM) to E.T. Joshua (TVSV)
hurricanemk1c posted a topic in PIREPS
There I was, standing at a wet railway station taking photos. Progressively, I'm getting soaked to the skin. Normally, something interesting at least comes through. Whilst waiting for the now late running 1320 Cork - Heuston to pass, I glance at my e-mails. Two immediately popped out at me - one was from an aviation group, who were organising a trip to St. Marteen to take photos. At least it'd be warmer and drier, I thought. The second one interested me more. It was from a VC-10 Flyers Group, wanting me to come to Dublin for a talk as soon as possible. So I decided to get the next train up. -
A few years ago, when I were a nipper living in the Bahamas, my mother used to drag me back to the UK at least once a year (sometimes twice) for a holiday, and to see the relatives. In those days it was quite an event , flying in a Stratocruiser via New York, Gander or Goose Bay, Shannon to a very small airport which had just been renamed Heathrow whose terminal (nissun huts) then was on the A4. My grandad would collect us in his Standard car, and we would drive the short distance with rugs around our legs for warmth. A week or two later we retraced the route back, and it was always eventful
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I got the nod from Micke via my blackberry and began sifting through charts. Nineteen hundred and some odd nautical miles, the farthest I’d flown in some time. I’m used to the short hops flying cargo in the Hawaiian Islands so this was going to be a challenge on a few levels. There it is, Santa Maria, or LPAZ, and there...I trace my finger west across the map...is Bermuda and the blue baton’s destination; Bermuda International or TXKF. I sip some Irish whiskey. Damn that’s a lot of blue, I mumble. I can see Jo looking at me out of the corner of my eye, curious as ever. I k -
Whilst being extremely magnanimous and showing a splendid amount of chivalry in helping out Brian, Micke then went on to display an absolutely brilliant level of "basic airmanship" in piloting the DHC-6 to safety. I was waiting for Micke at the nominated bar, (name deleted). I started to become anxious when the delightful barmaid called "last drinks" and there was still no sign of Micke. At that point, the barmaid turned to me and said "You must be the one looking for this.". I looked at her and thought my luck had changed as she fiddled with the top button on her blouse. However, it had
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After getting the call from Brian there was no going back. He had graciously organized my plane for the leg and my flight down to Lanzarote, but now I would once again be drawn in to the mayhem that is the ATWC. But who was I to deny a grandfather some time with his grand kids. After boarding a Norwegian flight from Stockholm to Lanzarote I had a few hours of sleep and arrived in a much warmer part of the world. I found Kasper in the bar, said hello and informed him that I did not care for the Carlsberg served, picked up the Baton and headed out. Surprisingly I also met Andrew on the
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It is never easy coming in as a replacement pilot. You do not know the route, fly with an unknown crew, barely have time to prepare and you got to make it on time because others are depending on you to get the job done. When you are flying in place of a fine writer like Jessica in the ATWC - that adds to the pressure. You'd better do it right! So while I am no Jessica and my 737 is no Lenore off we go to Lanzarote. The B737-800 waiting to get to Lanzarote It all began on the morning of the 7th. Mikael was calling "We need a replacement pilot right about NOW. We have a stranded 7
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Oh oh, not a good way to start my first time flying in the Around the World Challenge. The short version goes like this, bar, drunk, girl, fight, jail cell, big fine, freedom at last, two days later. A quick shower, change of clothes and I was on my way to the airport. It was great to see that my C172 was still here and looked to be in good shape, plus it was a beautiful morning. My destination is Sale (GMME). According to Micke and reading from his leg 5 flight description, Sale Airport serves as airport for Rabat, a city that became the capital of Morocco after France established a prot
