Once in a Blue Moon (Flying)

Once in a Blue Moon

 

I’ve always said going to the Omaka bar on a Sunday night is a profitable experience. You get to hear great stories, deals are done and opportunities arise. Such an occasion occurred a Sunday some years ago. Pat Donavan was passing out invitations to lunch… in Hokitika tomorrow in his Electra. I was dying to say count me in but… tomorrow was a Monday and I’d run out of leave. Then a friend, reminded me of the famous Latin saying “Carpe diem”. I thought about it for a second. My students were in Ohakea doing a parade, I was ready to roll with my next lessons and I was sure the flight sergeant, knowing how plane-o-manic I am and not wanting to see a grown woman cry, would see it my way.    

I arrived in time to help pre-flight just before 1000 hours. Moving 3.5 tonne of aircraft with a 15-metre wingspan is no five-minute exercise. Oh boy, oh boy I was really going to get to fly in her. I was like a kid about to go to the circus for the first time. Pat thought I was bouncing on the balls of my feet to keep warm. About then the rest of the crowd turned up Mr Patchett, Mr Wilkey and Mr Richards. Pat’s lovely ground crew assistant attired in worked jeans and a retro Vincent jersey, was on hand to help refuel.

I’ve found it’s always a good idea to give the kid with too much energy something useful to do. Pat tasked me with door opener/closer, ladder fitter and bungee keeper. He then instructed me to go sit up the front RIGHT. Weight forward I figured. Once seated Pat ran me through the safety procedures and I listened like I’ve never listened to any airline pre-flight brief before because if things went horribly wrong I was in the hot seat. I am sure I would have been quickly relieved of duties by misters Patchett and Wilkey. I was trying not to look back in case the urge to put my thumb on my nose and wriggle my fingers at them took over.

 

Taxiing out Pat called Hayley at Woodbourne tower. Pats quick-fire airline radio calls got no response. Hayley was dealing with a birds vs Herc, coupled with an enthusiastic fire crew. After several tries we got a firm but polite standby.  After five impatient minutes we were off down 30. I had a sudden memory of a story about Amelia Earhart ground looping one of these things. I had no time to dwell on such thoughts, the tail was up the motors were humming and we were rocketing down the runway. Lift off and I had that Cheshire grin I reserve for when I am having extreme fun.120kts and climbing! 3.5 tonnes meant nothing to this girl. In no time at all we were heading up the Wairau valley with not a cloud to be seen or a burble to be felt. As we passed Johnston Peak I spared a thought for the Electra that ended its days abruptly 60 years previously. It only kept me quiet a minute. I was having too much fun.

Rainbow ski field skiers got extra for their bucks on Monday as the Lockheed did a sedate fly-by. Then we tracked direct for the coast. At XX litres/per minute it doesn’t pay to take the long way. It was clear right down to Mount Cook. One of those 1 in a 100 coast days. There wasn’t even any fog in the Murchison valley. About 20nM out from Greymouth we started a slow easy decent for Hokitika from 7,000ft. Having established where the field was, the wind direction and the vectors we started into a gentle right hand for 22. I am sure we must have rattled a few windows in Hokitika on the way around as by the time we were lined up for finals we had an audience at the field. Ray couldn’t help himself anymore and I suddenly had an Ag pilot on my lap telling an airline pilot how to land his plane.

We rang for a taxi. Though I don’t know why because he was on his way anyway. Hokitika is like that. Half way to town the taxi driver asked if we had any small change. Maybe he didn’t trust us, part payment? We turned out our pockets and gathered a few gold coins. The taxi driver duly stopped at the high school and gave his daughter and her friend their lunch money. What the poor girl would have done if we hadn’t turn up goodness only knows. Literally pennies from heaven.

Ray wanted Steak, Pat wanted Sushi and Kevin wanted lots. We managed to find a place that catered to everyone’s tastes. Café Paris has wonderful food, friendly service and deserts to fly to Hokitika for. Whilst talking over lunch Chris mentioned he hadn’t been to Hokitika for a blue moon. It was then I realised he was so right we were having one that night.

After finding a present for Louise (Ray’s wife) we hailed the taxi again. It didn’t take long. Such is the service of the locals that he ran us back to the airport via the local tourist sights with a running commentary, supplemented by some of Mr Patchetts stories. Whilst sitting out at the bar hearing the history of wrecked ships and other misfortunes the taxi driver got a call for a fare from the supermarket. Could he run some dear old lady home with her weekly groceries? He confidently told them he’d be 15minutes. What was she going to do ring another taxi company? I just hope her ice cream didn’t melt on our account. The highlight of the tour was the oxidation pond. I am not making it up he especially ran us out there to relay a story about some Japanese cycle tourists who thought it was a swimming pool. For this executive service Chris paid $10 because he didn’t have change for $20. It’s a long way from Auckland.

We happily all piled back in the plane still chortling about characters of the coast. I was happy to do the tourist thing and try out a new camera from the luxury of the rear cabin. Back in the 1930’s they really cared about passenger comfort.

Sitting down the back I had time to reflect on the day, the scenery, the aircraft and my companions. It was an awesome combination. I felt extremely privileged and spoilt. One of those lifetime experiences that feeds the soul.

We had a lovely trip home with a slight tailwind. At the top end of the Wairau valley we encountered a bit of rougher air. Nothing you’d notice in a Lockheed. Woodbourne was just too big and empty to fly by so we paid a visit using our own executive runway, refuelled (man those dials click over fast) and hopped the last leg home to Omaka.

 
Driving home from the aerodrome I turned onto New Renwick road and there she was our lady of the night big, round and full just lifting off the horizon. Neither her nor I were in the least bit blue.

*A blue moon is when you get two full moons in the same calendar month.