It was a very good day.....

It was a very good day.  It's only my second day back in country, I had covered SAR standby yesterday and got caught up on paperwork, but today, today we broke the base record for hours flown on a shift.  Up just after four, a quick breakfast of mangoes, scrambled eggs and instant coffee, we looked over the aircraft as the sun slowly crept into the East African sky.  It was quite the show.  After last night's booming thunderstorms and flashes of light, the greens were deep and lush, the earth a deep red, and the sky....the sky....we'd soon be pulling pitch and spending our day playing in that spectacular East African sky.

Considering we are well into summer in the Southern Hemisphere, and the lack of air conditioning on our particular AW139, the muggy 36 degree Celsius heat did not deter our spirits in the slightest.  Dark build-ups littered our path painting angry red and yellow figures all over our weather radar, cropping up everywhere as we flew, but one could easily see the tops, the moisture being pushed ever upwards and upwards and building until it was no longer sustainable, until lightning and thunder and heavy squalls and strong downdrafts fell to the earth's surface.  Best to steer clear.

From the Southern Tanzanian border up into Dar es Salaam, then heading well out into the Indian Ocean for a couple of trips to the rigs, we were often put into holds as Tanzania took delivery of it's latest military purchase; Chinese-made Chengdu J-7G jets, blasting around the muggy air space in tight formation.  We didn't mind.  Those boys looked to be having as much fun as we were.  Much later, back at base with over eight hours of flying and significantly more on duty under our sweat soaked belts, I was already looking forward to the next shift......

Be angry at the the sun for setting...

"Be angry at the sun for setting if these things anger you." 

Hunter S. Thompson's quoting Robinson Jeffers in "Kingdom of Fear".  People are what people are, people do what people do, things are what things are.  Getting angry doesn't accomplish much.  The quote made me smile, and helped me deal with the arduous flight from Canada to Tanzania.  Hunter S. Thompson is a well known character, often frolicking well outside the confines of the law, and getting inside his head for a brief moment has made this read quite enlightening.  Yet another perspective to draw from, and his skewed perspective certainly comes from a completely different direction than I'm used to.  Damn good book.

I read "Kingdom of Fear" on the long, long flight from Canada to Tanzania. I was trying a new routing presented by the company travel department, the connection times looking more relaxed, but I didn't notice that my upgrade to business class credits were worthless until it was too late.  My seats were shit.  Middle of the four seat row in the middle, I was unpleasantly surprised to find I was sharing my very limited space with one of the aircraft's electrical components, a metal box taking at least half of my leg room.  When a fellow traveller in front of me jammed his seat full aft as soon as he sat down and jammed the minuscule TV screen three inches from my nose, I did my best to imagine the six inch screen filling my entire field of view was actually an IMAX screen and I was sitting in a spacious theatre. It didn't help. I was not channelling Hunter when I repeatedly kicked and shook the offending seat back, assuring the occupant got about as much sleep as I did, because I didn't have enough room to move without annoying him as much as he was pissing me off, but I may have been when he pushed his shoes back into my cramped foot space and I continued to pass them further aft.  I hope he eventually found them.  Most people are cognizant of those around them and show what courtesy one can considering the limitations, but this guy was rude to everyone around, so remorse was not on my emotional plate for misplacing his shoes.  I also watched numerous inane movies, disappointed that Hollywood expects computer graphics and intense unrelenting action to compensate for poor writing, and got very little sleep.  My bed in Tanzania was most welcome.

I'm back basking in the African heat, the kitchen has a new menu, my co-workers are full of stories of adventures I'd missed over my six weeks at home.  There's quite a lot of SAR training to do, and the rig has moved way out so we are flying more hours in two days than we had been doing in a full six week tour.  It'll be good to be busy.

Back to work

How could anyone possibly be bored with this shiny beast to play with? 

 

Gibson Les Paul mahogany goodness capped in flame maple, happy calloused fingers tap dancing ethereal vibrations into vintage magnets wired in series and out of phase,  the hectic product sent into the fiery hot gases of vacuum tubes, amplified and electrified and resulting in some seriously good fun?  It's an awesome way to kill an afternoon, but after six weeks of afternoons to kill.... 

Those working nine to five Monday to Friday shake their heads, but what is one to do all day?  All your friends and family ARE working nine to five Monday to Friday.  I go mountain biking, I go hunting, I catch afternoon movies, I jam on my guitar with the amp cranked and annoy my neighbors.  I've got a few projects on the go, but quite honestly, I miss working.  And flying!  Six weeks home is as bad as six weeks away.  What the hell am I going to do with myself if I ever retire?

I head back to Tanzania tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to it.  I know I'll miss the comforts of home, my family, my toys...my guitar!  But life isn't so bad in East Africa.  Beaches and mountain biking and night clubs, and of course, taking those AW139s up into the air.  I shouldn't complain, I know I have it good.  I did get to fly the simulator in Newark for a few hours.  I finished up my Christmas shopping and have everything mailed off.  I enjoyed walking my kid through her first car purchase, a bit of a beater but she's happy, and she paid for it herself.  Makes me a proud Dad.  I'll miss her too much.

 

 

Bags loaded up with Christmas presents for the local staff, I'll spend my last day trying to sort out a crate of hunting trophies from my African safari months ago, that was supposed to be here a few weeks ago but now looks like it'll arrive a few days after I set foot back on African soil.  This REALLY complicates the customs and importation procedures, but such is life.  Time to stop whining and get it sorted.  But I really wanted to see those kudu horns again.....

Bacon

After a year of working in Turkey along the Black Sea coast, with thee friendliest people I have ever encountered, with history, culture and hospitality like I've never experienced before, I was growing weary of the fact that you might be able to find a place to have a beer, or you could head out and have some fine Turkish cuisine, but beer and good food at the same place?  Good luck.  A fun night out in Northern Turkey is backgammon and tea.  And pork?  Forget about it. 

Actually you will struggle to find anything but Turkish cuisine, good as it is.  While I've had some memorable games of backgammon while sipping tea with good Turkish friends, not to mention a wholesome year of Islamic culture, everyone was excited about our next posting; Constanta, Romania.  Night clubs and fancy cars, we knew we were in for a completely different cultural experience.  I'll never forget one of my very best friends, a jovial Finnish fellow whom I've vowed to never, EVER, drink vodka with again, piloting the other Super Puma on the flight from Istanbul into Romania (through some nasty weather in Bulgaria....a tale best told over brews), greeting the Romanian officials heading out in the dull, drizzly weather to greet us and check our papers.  The first thing out of my Finnish friend's mouth to the officials; "Do you eat bacon here?" 

Every place I've been has had it's charms, and of course, it's negatives.  I really did love Turkey, it was an enlightening adventure, but lack of bacon qualifies as a negative.  Despite the slight culinary inconvenience, I think it's in my general make up to make the best of anything and everything.   I do my darndest to take the most out of every posting, really striving to see things through a local's eyes as much as enjoying the thrill of experiencing something for the first time.  I honestly think I'd be happy just about anywhere.  You can always find something to do, something to enjoy, something to keep one sane and to have some fun.  While Turkey had it's culture and history and incredibly friendly people, Romania had her night clubs and we had nights out that we'll talk about well into the days we're plagued with dementia, assuming one makes it that far.  I will never forget New Year's Eve in Constanta (a place called "The Bank" if you should ever care to visit), although there are those among us who'd prefer to forget that evening, you know who you are.  Imagine our surprise the following day, seeing our happy faces on the local news channel while relaxing in the hotel restaurant over late morning coffee.  It was one of "those" kind of nights.  But, there was a darkness.  One could feel the pressure of a former communist regime, of the extreme differences between the generations, of struggle, the very poor, the very rich, those wanting to be rich, those pretending to be rich, and of course, the working middle-class; the good, honest people we spent the majority of our time with.  Romania has some issues they are working out and one couldn't help but feel somewhat burdened.

Now I'm touring in East Africa.  A posting I strongly requested by the way.  I haven't been disappointed.  Africa just feels more open, more free, more unencumbered, closer to what I imagine the human condition to be.  One gets lost in distractions, but in Africa, everything is reduced to a more basic struggle.  The place gets under your skin and I understand those seduced by her charms. Everything is so far removed from a Westerner's frame of reference that one cannot help but be slightly transformed, slightly reconstructed, undergoing a slight revision of one's self, if one completely lets go and is fully immersed in what a place has to offer.  Tourists take heed.

Someone recently asked me if I've ever been some place that I'd like to retire too.  No, not yet, but I have loved something about everywhere I've been.  I'm continually amazed at how adaptable we are, and I have little doubt one could set down anywhere and thrive.  I appreciate that living and working amongst the locals for extended periods offers far more insight than a tourist might gain, but the end result is that where ever you go, there you are.  You are the constant.  You are the point of reference.  But the experiences can't help but shape what you are, who you are.  I'm finding that the constant personal reconstruction as one is exposed to the world beyond one's door is becoming addictive in itself.  I truly hope I can learn to settle after it's all said and done. 

Pilot Watches

Admittedly, I like stuff.  Nice stuff.  Not disposable electronic crap, but quality stuff you could pass down to your great grandkids.  And being a pilot, watches are right at the top of the list of cool things I really like.  Pilots generally like their watches, if all the marketing and hype out there is any indication, and I'm certainly not above it.  I've always been very partial to mechanical watches as well.  The thought of all those tiny little parts, so finely crafted, oscillating with the wearer's movement, storing that energy, and ultimately, keeping perfect time, impresses the hell out of me.  Quite some years ago, I finally treated myself to my dream watch; an Omega Seamaster mechanical.  I do love the Omegas, and their Speedmaster Moon Watch has been worn on every NASA mission into space, but I wanted a rugged dive watch.  At first, I was a tad nervous wearing something so expensive on my wrist, but I soon got used to it, and it never came off.  That's real alligator....

That old girl has some 6000 hours of flying under her belt!  BUT, when I found out I'd be touring international, not always in the nicest of places, I didn't wish to risk the loss of my Omega, now worth three times the exorbitant price I paid twenty years ago, so I elected to go with a rugged G-Shock.  The G-Shock Pilot Watch is a neat piece of kit, but I truly can't read most of the smaller dials, a reason I've avoided those pilot watches with E6-B flight computers on them, and I have to get the manual out every time I do anything on it besides read the time, like updating the time zone every six weeks.  I just need the time.  Simple functionality, easy to read, batteries that don't run out, and tells the time, but looking stylish helps too.  Your aircraft is loaded with everything else you could possibly need, like stop watches to keep track of run down times, hold timings, etc..  Breitling makes some very fine pilot specific watches but don't really have anything that catches my eye. 

There are some very nice looking Bell and Ross watches from their Heritage collection, but they aren't cheap either.  I think the Sinn 856 UTC above (not my photo, nor my watch....yet) is functionally the perfect pilot watch, and very good looking too, but still too pricey to be worn in Africa. There are some pilots that don't really care much about their watches, sporting Timex and Casio, but I truly missed having some quality on my wrist.  I'm still waiting for my replacement Torgoen T16, the 771 Squadron Search and Rescue watch, but I was pining for another mechanical, one that wouldn't break the bank and make me nervous wearing it in back alleys of Mombasa.  Enter Hamilton.  Fine mechanical watches at a percentage of the Omega's cost, issued to the United States Armed forces since 1914, Hamilton's were wore on the first flights across North America by the airmail postal service, and even today, are the watch of choice of Air Zermatt and even Canada's own Snowbirds.  I went with their classic looking Khaki Field Watch below, the Officer Auto, and it's Africa bound in two weeks.  I love the styling, and that matters.  Can you think of anything that you look at more often than your wrist watch?  My great grandkids can have it someday too...

Edit:

Unfortunately I quite missed the rotating bezel of my Omega, and the water proof durability of a dive watch (having both a Hamilton and a Torgoen flood while snorkelling, admittedly both quickly replaced by the manufacturers at no cost, but being in third world countries for months at a time, you want something you can count on) so I've been sporting this very rugged Tissot SeaStar ever since.  Another mechanical watch waterproof to 1000 feet, it was gaining roughly 15 seconds a day but a free adjustment from Tissot and it's now as accurate as a quartz.  Rugged, not overly expensive, solid and hefty on the wrist, it's the perfect touring watch for someone like myself, and I love the look....been my standard wear from Milan to Istanbul to Mombasa to Dar and beyond.....

Edit - July 2016

That Tissot has been all over the globe, but I wanted to change things up a tad.  I wanted a tough simple high-quality watch, that wasn't overly flashy, nor attracted too much attention in some of the rougher places I work.  Enter my new Tudor Heritage Ranger, modelled after a 1967 model.  Hans Wilsdorf, the creator of Rolex in 1905, watched as the prices of his popular watches soared.  In 1926 he started the Tudor brand, to provide the same quality as Rolex, but without the overpriced name attached.  Patterned after Rolex's iconic Explorer, the Tudor Ranger was introduced in 1967, and this is a pretty accurate reissue.  It's a tough water proof dive watch with a screw in crown.  A Rolex heritage without the Rolex hype.  Kind of classy too.

And it looks very similar to the clock in the Super Puma!

Missing Africa

It's off to the airport again for a short hop down to New Jersey for the CAE AW139 simulator.  It seems someone has decided we need to hit the sim every six months now, for our various "check rides".  This one is the Operator Proficiency Check, as opposed to the Transport Canada Pilot Proficiency Check we are faced with yearly to maintain our commercial pilot's licence.  The OPC follows the PPC by six months.  It's a way to assure everyone is maintaining the proficiency required and following standard operating procedures, but as a TRE, I quite enjoyed giving OPCs on the aircraft in the field.  The simulator is a far more efficient way to assess a pilot's capabilities, but it's reduced some of the perks of my position.  Nevertheless, blasting off in hard IFR weather ("hard" not as in difficult, but meaning "at minimums or less", like over a decade of flying out of Halifax!) in the congested complicated airspace of Rome or New York, and faced with engine control malfunctions and fires and electrical glitches, is far more challenging in the simulator than anything we can recreate in the field.  The training gained, as usual, is first rate.  As a company TRE, I'm queried about how the script and training could be improved upon, and I provide feedback as best as I am able, hoping to improve the process.  The process is continually evolving, changing, sometimes taking a step or two backwards, but overall, forever forward.  Thirty years in the industry, I can feel it.  

All the travel, all the challenges, it gets addictive, and back home again, I quickly get bored.  I'm asking about overtime, does anyone need me?  I'm ready to head back to work, but I've still got three weeks to kill....