11/11/11 Remember, remember the 11th of November… (2011)

 

11 November, 2011

 

So, the world didn’t end (again), we’re all still doing what we were the day before… Thankfully my day was a little busier than the day before. So much so that the machine is going to need to go in for MPI (a service) very shortly.

I did my usual trip to Coucal to take 2 pax there, 1 back. Then in the afternoon I flew to Coucal AGAIN, taking another 1. Why he couldn’t make it onto the morning flight (I can take up to 5 pax) I don’t know, but as far as getting to fly goes, I don’t care!

In action….	My best friend – VERY nice GPS

Amusing moment when I got to Coucal, having not had a cup of coffee yet. For those that don’t know me very well, this is imperative to ensure sensible conversation and operational co-ordination. I asked in the canteen if they would mind if I made a cup. No problem, help yourself. I face the coffee table. No mugs. Ask for a mug and he points at the table as if I’m an idiot. All there are on the table are cereal bowls. Yes, he nods as if to a small child, there you go!

I promised myself just one cup of coffee a day…	Coucal’s canteen – much smaller than ours

So with my bowl of coffee in one hand (burning the crap out of me) I retire to wake up. The safety guy finds me (he’s new) and asks me to explain how he must wave the ping-pong bats to direct me to land. This, for anything other than a Boeing, where the pilot can’t observe the whole aircraft, is much like the car guards in South Africa which expertly direct you to your parking spot, as if they would never trust you to do it on your own.

I went through the four basic commands; come towards me, stop, go up/down, shut down. Oh, and move left/right. They love that one. I can barely keep the bloody machine in a 1m square area, and they tirelessly direct you a little bit left, then a little bit right, then back to the left, trying to land you EXACTLY in the centre of the pad. Which is 20 x 20m.

Anyway, I laughed at myself because I didn’t have the vocab to explain it properly to him (the hand gestures just weren’t working) and I noticed that I’d say something like, “…est c’est pour plus droit, en moenie... bliksem…!” As I struggled more for French words, I used Afrikaans words instead. I guess to my brain there’s English and then “Foreign”… and they only like it when I talk foreign…

Just before I took off I found an injured bird on the pad by the chopper. I’d been there an hour, so doubt I’d hit him while landing, but he was breathing very heavily and not moving. I moved him into the grass before starting, but I doubt he made it. What is it with me and dying birds!?!

Up my nose…	Below my feet…

I finally set off in the afternoon to Port Gentil again!!! Yay!! Just after I’d decided to blog instead, I now had the chance to upload all my pics onto FB!