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Mutley Crew
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Everything posted by Jess-b

  1. It’s been awhile since my last flight. Much of this has to do with factors beyond my control. As you may recall,I last free a VC10 into Easter Island with a bunch of RAF guys. Needless to say that once the aircraft was parked up, the real party began. It was the morning after the night before that really caused me issues. I can only describe my eventual awakening as surprising, and deeply unpleasant. During the night out, I’d become separated from the RAF guys and as i wander the streets in search of my hotel room or my next drink, a friendly local took me under their wing and helped me home. Or so I thought. In reality, I’d been kidnapped and I was shipped off easter Island to a jungle encampment somewhere in South America. To say i was unhappy with my new situation would be an understatement. I wasn’t to concerned however. As a member of the Mutley’s hangar crew, were all implanted with tracker chips, should we not report back for duty as and when Mutley decrees. So the first few days were spent keeping my spirits up and remaining cheerful. On my third day of captivity, it happened. it was early morning, when suddenly, the camp was buzzed by a lo flying Cessna. Sure enough, the Mutley’s international rescue team had pounced into action. With Andrew at the controls and Needles leaning out the door, they drew my captives attention, forcing them to chase after the Cessna, deeper in to jungle. Then with the guards lost, the aircraft returned, dropping a package for me to find. My pulse quickened and running, i grabbed the package and furiously opened it. surely it contained a gun, money and a map of my current position to help me escape? No. Not a chance. Contained in the package was a single paperclip. A bloody paperclip! I wasn’t even handcuffed!!!! The cursing began and lasted for an hour. It got so bad that my captures returned to camp and offered to hug me, such was my state of blind anger. It was here I hit on a new plan, since my colleagues were obviously useless. Many people are familiar with Stockholm syndrome, Where a hostage begins to identify with their guards. Well I was going to in still the lesser known Vancouver syndrome, where the guards are so sorry for you, they’ll do all they can to help you out. That night, I began the long story of love, hate, betrayal and despair that is being a Mutley’s crew member. Two days later, I found myself at Santiago Airport on a flight to Spain, a thousand peso’s in my pocket and a promise to catch up at Christmas. From Spain I made it home and I was very tempted to crawl inside a nice 2000 piece jigsaw, but I stayed strong. Now it was time to get back in the air. My flight was to Gran Canaria where I’d welcome the baton back to Europe, if only briefly. I was pretty sure Mutley felt bad about the sodding paperclip incident, flying me from my home in Vienna business class to Gran Canaria. As I sipped my free drink and enjoyed the splendour of having an empty seat next to me, I began to mellow. Bygones are bygones I thought. This was short lived. greeting the baton, I was escorted out to my waiting aircraft for my flight down to Banjul. I was hoping for a little home comfort, a nice A319 to make the journey nice and pleasant. Oh how wrong I was. What greeted me can only be described as some kind of insect with wings. The Czechoslovakian L410 is roughly the size of a penguin and about as able to fly. Oh I was not happy. My flight distance today was around the 800 to 900 nm mark. The L410 would be good for 250 maybe 300 if I flew it empty. Three fuel stops were in my future. Then theres there awesome cruise speed. Forget 400kts and and a flight time of an hour and a half. Oh no, there are Pipers out there that would pass the L410 like it wasn’t there. At around 200kts, I was expecting a flight time of 4 hours plus, and that didn’t include the fuel stops. As it was, I as payload limited leaving Gran Canaria. The first leg was around 250 nm. The cursing resumed and while I did the preflight inspection, I dreamed of voodoo dolls and pins for people. Climbing onboard did not improve my mood. The L410, being a very ‘Cold war’ era aircraft featured Cyrillic script and metric instruments. Oh there was going to be a reckoning! Fortunately I know a few people, and a call to a friend the Slovakian government secured me an up to date English manual and a few user notes. With the doors closed and the engines running, I taxied out in this pimped out Cessna wannabe, and soon enough, I was in the air. The Canary islands fell away and as I approached the clouds, I flicked on the autopilot. I needed a coffee, but this aircraft had nothing like a galley, and the best I could manage was a bottle of some kinds of spirit, or fuel tank cleaner, the label wasn’t specific and the smell was even less helpful. I decided that discretion was the better part of valour and returned the bottle from whence it came. At this point I noted the autopilot was doing grand job of keeping my course true, and a horrendous job at maintaining altitude. For the next two hours, George and I fought. Apparently the Altitude acquire function is more of a ‘more or less’ kind of thing. Beginning my decent to my first fuel stop, I took control and made a right hand circuit before landing. Putting out the flaps was a scary experience I’d like not to repeat, as the aircrafts nose turned skyward in search of its on personal god. I land and head for the ramp for a splash and dash, as well as refuelling the aircraft. with the fuel sorted, its back in the air for the next leg, a 180nm run to fuel stop two. At this point I phone base and unload a particularly nasty bout curse words, some of which have yet to be recognised by the official curse word dictionary, St Bastards chronicle of pigeonwittery! The upshot of which was that a new aircraft would be waiting for me at the next stop. I arrive for fuel, having once again fought the L410 tired and cranky. I leave the damn thing on the ramp and go in search of my replacement. There’s not much to see. Only two aircraft are to be found. One single ATR and a private jet. I figure the private jet is for me since the ATR looks set for a scheduled service. It’s not open, but with a click, I fold down the steps and board the aircraft. Now this is more like it. English dials, glass cockpits and a fully stocked bar. It also means I can now fly direct to Banjul, cutting out the final fuel stop and shortening the final leg to just a 55 minute flight. The challenger 300 is a dream to get up and running, and the excellent air con is really appreciated. I taxi out and wait while a piper lands. Then its off to the threshold and away to go. This time things are just awesome. I climb away, reaching 30000 with ease. The clouds stay far below and all to soon I’m on approach to Banjul. ITs here that once again, Mr. Cockup reappears. My clearance to land seems strange and I’m instructed to text to a remote stand. Not one to ignore ATC commands, I land and do as instructed. As I disembark, I’m greeted by the local police. It turns out I’ve stolen this jet! The aircraft I was meant to take was the arriving Piper. the cursing begins once again, but at least this time, I have a way out. A few bribes to the police on scene and I’m on the run. The baton is safely stored with the local police, while I plot a way to cross the border into Senegal and a flight home.
  2. I’m excited by this, but slightly concerned about my current storage solutions. Time to go shopping I think (oh the horror!)
  3. Hi Johan, using three monitors is pretty easy these days. The 1060 GTA offers you plenty of options. You’ll need at least one DisplayPort adaptor if your monitors don’t support DisplayPort. To run three monitors, first plug all three in to gpu. next start up the pc and open the NVIDIA control panel. Look for the option to configure NVIDIA surround. Click on this and follow the instructions for set up. You can even sort bezel correction here. Once done, click apply and you’re done. Run your flight sim and select the new resolution. Hope this helps Jess B
  4. While I’ve been recovering from my first flight, it seems the world hasn’t been kind to my fellow pilots. Russian spies, giant octopuses and a host of other issues remind me that the ATWC isn’t for the faint of heart, or indeed the sober. It’s a fact that was brought home to me late last year when I found the police raiding my home in Austria, certain I had in some why aided the boss with his “accounting practises” following on from the Paradise Papers release. To my good fortune, many of the Austrian police were woman, and an Austrian police woman can brighten any holding cell. That was months ago and both Lynda and I have gotten back to normality, or at least what passes for it here. Right now through, I’m less than happy. At home it’s winter and a time for wrapping up. Goths love winter. It’s cold, dark and depressing. It’s just what you need after a long hot summer. The sun is never my friend. So finding myself in a South Pacific tropical paradise in the Southern Hemisphere summer is pissing me off. The island seems to be little more than an oversized sand bank with a Airport, a giant ring of sand and occasional green plant life. I expect to find David Attenborough discussing the life of some crappy turtle over every dune. Why am I even here? For this trip, I’ve brought my wife with me. This is partly to ensure I don’t slip into bad habits. No one wants a relapse into a 10000 piece jigsaw again. The main reason she’s here now though is to stop me killing my court appointed ‘helper’ (A kind description if ever there was one.) Eddie. Eddie , Like Lynda is here to keep me on the straight and narrow. However, if you look into Eddie’s eyes at any given moment, it’s clear the wheel is turning even though the hamster has passed on. He really does have the look of a cocker spaniel that’s run into a tree once to often. Eddie’s job last time was to secure me an aircraft suitable for the job at hand. Last time he happily produced a 747 for my flight from Paro! I’m hopeful this time he’s done better. Today’s flight is a long one, and it takes us across 5 time zones. It’s a trip of over 1700nm. We leaving at dawn to avoid as much sun as possible. The early breakfast at the hotel is unwanted, while the Black Coffee can’t come quick enough. Leaving the hotel the predawn Air is annoyingly warm, thick and sticky as thunderclouds dance menacingly around the skyline. Oh it’s going to be a fun day. I really hope Eddie has learnt from the Paro incident. Having arrived at the airport, grabbing a quick coffee and a little food for later, just in case Eddie screws up the catering, we head of the pilots briefing room. As expected, the weather isn’t great. Thunder storms and unstable air are expected. The winds are gusty too. I actually hope Eddie has the 747 again, just for the added stability in the take off. Crossing my fingers i head out the apron as the thunder rumbles across the sky. Through the flash of lighting, I see what Eddie has given me. The urge to kill rises and quickly. It turns out all Eddie took from the last incident was that big wasn’t good. So he went smaller. In front of me is a BAe 31 Jetstream. In a world of airliners this thing is a wannabe. There are gnats bigger than this. Hell the mosquito’s that have been chewing on me while I’ve been here bigger. With a range of only 800nm, size matters and I’ve got problems. Sensing my annoyance, mostly because I’m threatening to make a crab’s supper out of him, Eddie hides in the terminal, calling me on my cell to avoid my direct wrath. I explain the issue, with as many swear words as possible, and I quickly work out a plan. We can take the Jetstream down to Totegegie airport, some 500nm away to the south east. That takes us to the edge of French Polynesia. While I’m in the air, Eddie will source an appraise Aircraft for the remaining 1500nm trip. I’ve emphasised the words ‘long range’ and ‘Airliner’ to him in the hope the hamster wheel may get the hint. By the time I get done with Eddie and work out how to fly this little puddle jumper the storms have cleared, but the sun is coming up. The wind though is still on the strong side, and it means I’m heading to the other end of the runway for takeoff. That’s going out take a while. There’s precious little room on this island airport and the sea sits uncomfortably close as I taxi out. There’s not a lot to see in the distance, and with so few Islands around, I’m not expecting much of a scenic flight. On the stroke of 5AM I advance the throttles and we’re off. The takeoff is smooth but once I’m up the aircraft feels ‘skittish’. With gusty winds and a tiny aircraft I think it’s gonna be a bumpy ride. It’ll also be a long flight. With 450+nm to cover in this insect, I need to get comfy. I also need a cup of tea. Lynda heads off to the galley only to discover the cupboards are bare. This day keeps getting better and better. Below the cloud shadows stretch out on the ocean as the day gets going, and I’m envious. I’d really like to be in bed now. Sleep would be great. However, the baton won’t get around the world without my help, plus it will make a handy weapon for when I smack Eddie upside the head. I’m worried about what the hell he’ll turn up with. He’s not really grasping how this all works. I think he’s just enjoying the chance travel. As chance would have it, i get a call over SELCAL. Eddie it seems needs more time. Hardly surprising, but to be firm but fair, i give him 24 hours to come up with something. I think he gets it and the radio falls silent. Lynda returns to the cockpit with a paper cup filled with iced coffee we bought at the airport, alongside a chocolate bar of dubious nature. Ah the breakfast of champions. For next hour, the blank nothingness of the Southern Pacific fills the windscreen. There’s a moment of brief excitement when we spot a ship in the water below and occasionally there’s the odd sandbank island to spark interest, but little else. A game of eye spy would be pointless. Just over an hour in and we cross our first timezone. It’s another moment of excitement in what is a fairly dull flight. Speaking of flight, the Jetstream is certainly an interesting aircraft to fly. She’s twitchy and even with the Autopilot on, we’re being gently rocked around. Add to that the temperamental engines. Like the Twin otter, you need to watch you’re RPM and EGT numbers or you’ll have a fire on your hands. I’m really hoping I can keep it all under control for the approach. Engines that have a habit of grenading themselves aren’t my favourites. That said, a little excitement might be nice. In hope of finding something fun, and just for something to do, I call ahead for the weather. The report is pretty meh. Overcast at 14000, light rain and and a wind of 15kts out of the east. Things may have gotten interesting. It’s not long until I meet the overcast layer and things start to get bumpy. I begin the descent around 60nm out. The cloud is thick in places, but breaks do happen and soon enough I’m through. He island is still playing hide and seek though and I once again curse Eddie as we head into our unexpected landing site. The weather isn’t that bad by the time we get closer the rain has stopped. The cloud however is much lower than forecast. We finally breakthrough at 2500ft and I spot the landing strip off in the distance. It’s hazy but the runway is just visible. It seems that the runway is the only man made structure on this particular piece of land. The main settlements seem to be in the centre of the lagoon. That’s a problem for future us though. For now I just need to get us down. The crosswind isn’t making things easy though. Never the less, we land and I engage full reverse. Damn the Jetstream screams as the full beta range kicks in. We slow quickly and I kick the throttles back to ground idle to taxi. We’re here, for now. Not that here is a place we want to be. Still there’s little to be done about it. Until Eddie sorts out a large enough aircraft for the next leg to Easter island. We taxi up to the end of the runway, park up and shut down the Jetstream. It’s due to fly back to Hao later. We board a boat to the main island, leaving the airport and the plucky little Jetstream alone. We need to find a place to stay until Eddie returns. And return he does. We're enjoying a nice lunch around 1PM when the peaceful tranquillity is shattered by the sound of jet engines. The noise bounces off the restaurant wall and the mountainside behind us. I don't know just landed, but from the look of surprise on the locals faces, it wasn't expected. Five minutes later my cell gets a text telling me to come to the airport. It looks like our stay in paradise is shorter than expected. We pay the bill and head for the dock. The sight that greets us is definitely unexpected. Eddie's found a jet alright, and a passenger one at that. As we get off the boat, a mighty Vickers VC-10 stands towering above the buildings. Eddie greets me and explains where the hell he's found this. It turns out this particular VC-10 was stuck on the Falklands after the RAF removed them from service. She needed repairs and since parts weren't forthcoming, the local crew did the best they could. Finally A museum in Europe offered to take the old girl, paying to get her flight ready and to restore her to her original BOAC colours. Sexy doesn't cover it, and I'm wearing a smile as broad as a sunset. The crew were heading out from Port Stanley this morning when Eddie got in contact. They happily rerouted for the promise of drinks on Easter Island curtesy of the GIZA card. I don't care either way. Its time to get going. It takes an hour to get the VC-10 refuelled and ready. Shockingly the tide has come in since we landed this morning, leaving the airfield surrounded by water. Taxiing is a damn sight more difficult it seems. I get the engines running while the crew who flew her in get comfortable in the cabin with the bar. The Engines whine into life and the noise is deafeningly good. At just past 3 I taxi out carefully and then open the throttles. She Accelerates quickly and before to long we're airborne. I wave good bye to our unexpected stop over and make for FL300. Once in the cruise, the VC-10 proves to be slick, happily cruising at Mach 0.8. If I'm not careful she'll go even faster, topping out close to the speed of sound. This makes the next 1600nm pass quickly. Well that and the ensuring party in the cabin. Apparently Eddie has gotten into the good scotch. Unlike the last flight, the cabin is fully stocked with tea, meals and even a few packs of Austia's favorite biscuit, Manner wafers. As darkness falls there's precious little to see out of the Window. There are more people on board the aircraft than in a 200 mile radius for most of the flight. The time eventually comes to descend and I pull the throttles back and pitch down. So far I'm liking the VC-10 at speed. As we start our approach though, the speed comes off and the flaps come down. The difference in handling is incredibly pronounced. Gone is the fighter jet nimbleness, replaced with a concrete block swimming in glue. With the gear down and flaps set to full, the aircraft is massively heavy and lethargic. I need a lot of power just to maintain my rate of descent. I manage to glide her onto the runway and engage the reverse thrust. We slow and the aircraft becomes dead weight again. Exhausted I taxi back to the gate and park up. Lynda and I need a drink and a good meal. The relief crew are just getting nicely stewed and Eddie is passed out along a row of seats at the back. It's been a long day, but finally leg 2 of the ATWC comes to end. The Baton arrives on Easter Island safely, and the GIZA card is about to get a hammering.
  5. Happy birthday John. Have a good one.
  6. I know this aircraft. It’s Austrian Based. I believe it’s at Zell am See. Pretty sure its saying 'Feed me Seymour!‘
  7. Hi Martin, That sounds like a pain. Quick question though. What operating system are you currently running?
  8. OI! I was working. My boss told me to try that. It was good too! All in all it was a cracking weekend, and I’m just about recovered now. I was great seeing Steph again, and because I didn’t get a chance to say so on the weekend, I loved your boots. bring on next weekend.
  9. It’ll be a great show I’m sure. Oh and Steph, I’m bringing chocolate goodies from Austria!
  10. Oooooh, now that is interesting. Given how much digging around I’ve been doing lately with AI, this could a great upgrade, if they get it right.
  11. @mutley, I had hoped you'd missed that. I'm going into hiding until Andrew gets fed up of looking for me.
  12. Cheers Matt, Not sure what the issue was there as the pics were all fine last night. Anyway, I've reinserted the pics. Jess
  13. I get a phone call. I hate phone calls. I hate phones if I'm honest. But phone calls have a way of being especially annoying. In a world of text messaging, emails and Facebook, the phone call usually only means one thing to me. It's that time again. Shuddering, I answer the insessant ringing and as expected, it's the Boss, Mutley himself. Without a chance to say anything, he blurts out my instructions and puts the phone down. So it begins. I'm now a veteran of the ATWC and it's beginning to show. My hair is noticeably greyer in place. It's not just my hair that's showing signs of weariness. Life hasn't been to good to me after the last ATWC. The pressures of flying to god knows where in god knows what finally became to much and I sank into bad habits. As a way to cope, I took up the ancient art of jigsaw puzzles. It was incredibly soothing, having a 500 piece picture of an olde times shop to put back together. But soon it wasn't enough. Before long the 1000 piece jigsaws were here, then ever bigger and bigger ones……until…..until the ‘incident’. I don't remember much, but during the proceeding court case, I learned that the police broke down the door of my home to find me rolling around the floor amongst the pieces of four 10000 piece jigsaws, dressed only in my underwear. I was apparently babbling something about how ‘edges were just a figment of our limited understanding of the universe.’ Needless to say things weren't going well. Being a Mutley’s crew member can do strange things to you. The court case made all the papers and I was ordered to stay 200 meters away from any jigsaw. I got help though. A sessions of mandated therapy and I'm once again ready to face the world. Until that phone call. I sigh. It's already to late to fly out tonight. Besides, I need help. We'll need is a strong world. I have help, if you can call him that. For the next six months I have a helper named Eddie. His job it to keep me on the straight and narrow. I dislike Eddie. I don't dislike him because he's stopping me from doing bad things. No I dislike Eddie because he's an idiot. Eddie is a cross between a cabbage and a brain damaged Labrador. He's inanely cheery. Constantly cheery. Still he tries hard. I text him and tell him the news. Like a puppy dog that's just so gosh darned happy to be here, he texts me back immediately, and cheerily. Ugh. Somehow I suspect he's also peed all over the carpet, just like an excited puppy dog. I explain the situation and Eddie, ever keen to help, assures me he'll take care of things in Paro for me, including getting me an aircraft. Why not? Normally I'd grab Siggy, my tame A320, but he's in the hangar getting overhauled. Instead I book my flight to Paro and leave from Vienna the next day. I've arrived two days early and get a room at the local hotel. The food is good, and the local alcohol is, off limits. Eddie’s already phoned ahead. This makes me a little annoyed, and I feel the need for a 500 piece jigsaw. Instead I practice my breathing, which at 7000+ feet above sea level, isn't that easy. So I wait. The time gives me a chance to catch up with the previous pilots reports. With talk of spies, violated airspace and fighter escorts, that little stressed vein on the side of my temple twitches. Hopefully my flight will be bereft of hassle. Finally I meet Beejay and I take command of the baton. I grab a nice lunch and head to the airport. It's time. The sight that greets me is unbelievable. Eddie has done the unthinkable. Now I told him that whatever aircraft he could get, it would need to be something small enough to fly a domestic flight. What Eddies got me is a bloody 747-400! D. This is a Japan airlines 747 domestic. It has all the size of the 747 but none of the range. The lack of range is fine, but I have concerns getting the damn thing out of here. The mountains are everywhere and the 747 isn't the most manoeuvrable aircraft. I head to the pilots centre to plan the route. Word has gotten around of who I am and why I'm going to do. How could it not. Parking the 747 in Paro has basically blocked a whole taxiway. Thank goodness the cloud isn't to low. My departure is set off of runway 15 and up to FL410. Getting in to the cockpit I realise I haven't flown a Boeing anything in years. So I really hope i can still Remember how to do this. I can, and once I've got the route installed and the engines running, I can start to worry about the take off. I push back onto the taxiway and then taxi past the terminal. There are more than a few people watching. Backtracking down runway 33 I take a deep breath and curse the fact that I have to use 15. The mountains are much closer on 15. I turn the gigantic behemoth and line up. Flaps are set to 20, full power applied and we’re off. v1 comes quickly and Vr even more so. I ease the yoke back and the queen lifts off with no fuss or bother. There's still some tarmac left down there. It's an immediate left bank to avoid the mountains and I hand fly the old girl to the first waypoint, dodging peaks as I go. With the flaps fully retracted and George at the controls, I can finally relax. And there it is. That moment when you stair out of the cockpit window and the view, and all your troubles melt away. It's so good to be flying again. I grab a snack from the Galley. Being a Japanese aircraft I'm happy to discover a fresh meal of TonKatsu curry and a few tempura Prawns waiting for me. A dessert of Mochi really makes me happy though. For those who don't know what mochi are, they're small bean paste patty covered on sweetened rice flour that's been thickened to a icing like quality. They're delicious and a real experience if you haven't tried them before. Ahead of me, the mountains look close, and considering I'm at 41000 feet, that's pretty good going. Peaks piece the cloud base whilst others cloak themselves in the mist. Everything is serene up here. I spent the next hour looking at the view, watching the instruments, and switching off the fuel tank pumps are that particular tank empties. The mountains never seem to go down. This is one mountainous region, no doubt about that. I'm also chasing the dark. After 90 minutes flying time, dusk begins to fall over the region and the view just gets more beautiful. It's now just an hours flying time to my destination. With the evening rapidly turning into night, I decide to check the weather for arrival. The news isn't good. Paro was in gorgeous weather , but Xianyang is not looking so friendly. Visibility is just 2500 meters and the sky is overcast at 1000 ft. It's looking like i need to adjust my route as well as the wind has swung around to a 4kt tailwind on landing. Oh and it's raining. Yay. I can feel the stress levels climbing once again. The mountains have thankfully fallen away, but as the descent continues, there's little to see except cloud. That sense of fear is starting to rise and the cloud just keeps getting thicker. It's not looking good. All to soon I enter the cloud layer and the world turns black. Then things get worse. The 747 doesn't pick up the ILS and visibility has worsened since the descent started. I break out of the cloud at 1000 feet and see nothing. No airport lights. Then, off to my right I see the approach lights. I’ve no choice but To go around. This is not greeted well by the 747. She’s light on fuel. The second approach is going to be the last one I make then. I switch off the autopilot and fly the pattern manually. I can't see a thing. Once again the ILS fails to pick up, so i rely on the ND and hope for the best. The flaps are set to full, the gears down and locked. Beads of sweat are pouring off of me and then I catch a glimpse of the lead in lights. I'm still to the left but I've time to adjust. It's not great thought. The landing’s long so I slam on the brakes and pull the reverse to full. With 100 meters remaining, the aircraft slows to a nice pace and I take the far taxiway and make for the Terminal. The baton has made it to China. I park at the gate, shut down the aircraft and dig out the company credit card. It's about to get a hammering. Leaving the airport I pass through duty free and bag a litre of Bacardi. I need a drink, that's for sure. However, as the taxi pulls away from the terminal, and with me opening the Bacardi with my teeth, all I can think is ‘damn I've missed this.’
  14. Great read, and for the record, I'm in the Bar!
  15. Happy birthday to my favourite whinging old bastard! Love ya maaaaaaate.
  16. Happy birthday to my favourite 6 foot plus Swede. ita always good spending time with ya!
  17. Wow, it finally happened. 7 years it's taken. Great stuff.
  18. Right. I haven't flown with the gear down yet to test, but I have spent time with the FCOM and QRH today to see what Airbus themselves say. The QRH is useless, mostly because Airbus didn't perceive any pilot would willfully fly with the gear down. Likewise the FCOM offers little advice for pilots deliberately flying with the gear without some kind of issue. It offers lots of advice if you have to fly with the gear down due to failures, but again, Airbus figures the three bloody green lights and ECAM gear page offers pilots the best way to see the gear is still down. For the record, the checklist calls for the pilot not flying to raise the gear at 100 feet after takeoff. What puzzles me is this crew didn't even check the gear via the visual scan. It sounds like a complete breakdown of CRM and tunnel vision.
  19. If you're stuck joe, put me down for an extra flight. I have a thing for long legs!
  20. It's not welcome at the bar for me! Apparently I have a 'limit' on my card of one drink and my argument that a litre of Bacardi was 'one drink'wasn't accepted.
  21. Oooooh Chris, that looks gorgeous.
  22. It's available for both fsx and P3D v3 & 4. Interestingly the price is the same regardless of sim type. I guess the threat of a pilot using the dc-6 for a type rating are vastly below the 747 pilots. I'm on the fence at the minute though.
  23. Here you go Ozwookie. XP11 Japan. Enjoy. http://www.alpilotx.net/
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