Chapter 10

Mr. Arnold said, “She always does the check list before restart every time she shuts down.”

And I said, “You never know ... I might have lost a cable to the rudder when I landed. They’ve been known to jump a pulley on a rough landing. I won’t know if I don’t check.”

Mr. Townsend asked, “Has it ever happened?”

“Not to me,” I said, “But the Australian Transport Safety Bureau has reported several instances.”

“In this type?” He nodded in the direction of the SNJ.

“During the Second World War there were instances of tail failure but they were written off as pilot error. Training accidents.”

“Hmm.”

“Never forget that the aircraft were rushed into production and that there were 2o,00 aviation accidents and almost 6000 airplanes wrecked in training during 1944 alone.”

“Really?”

“And that was in the US ... who knows how many were lost to accidents overseas,” I said.

“What is your source for this information?”

“Google,” I admitted.

“The same place you learned aerobatics?”

“Well ... I asked the right questions and got a reasonable answer.”

“Well then, I suspect we should ascertain whether or not Google knows what it’s talking about. Let’s go.”

“Sure ... after we run the checklist.”

“Woman ... you have a one track mind.”

“Only on the important stuff ... and the list is important ... it’s my life ... anyone who trusts their life to flying is crazy,” I said. “These planes,” I nodded at the SNJ, “were assembled after the War. The mechanics and construction crew weren’t in as big a hurry then.”

“Safer than driving to the airport.”

“Oh ... that’s for sure.” I said, “I watched a Tube about an AG pilot ... crazy skills ... he used to fly with his wheels in the crop ... great pilot, but he was killed in a car wreck.”

“In the crop? That’s just nuts. Where did ... oh yeah ... U Tube,” he said.

We ran the list. Everything checked.

“Can we go now?” He asked.

At the same time I said, “We can go now.”

We both laughed.

Bankstown is a controlled field with three parallel runways ... unusual. There’s a tower and even a safety crew with trucks. As we were lifting off ... I spotted the trucks and said, “Those trucks prove me right.”

“Ah ... if they weren’t needed we wouldn’t have them,” he said.

“Exactly.” I said, “People make mistakes.”

“East, please.”

Then we were over the Tasman Sea.

“Show me.”

I did.

“You did well ... better than I expected. My aircraft. Follow me on this.”

“Your aircraft,” I agreed, “Following.”

I lightly followed him with the stick and pedals.

“You do it.”

“Ooo ... THAT was fun. What else you got?”

So ... Mr Townsend ran through a whole one aircraft airshow ... one stunt at a time with my turn after each.

“Tie it together,” he said.

I hate to admit it ... he was better ... I bobbled several times and once he wrenched the controls away and saved us. He was exceedingly patient. He showed me where I went wrong, I corrected and managed to perform.

Back at Banks, he said, “Where’s your logbook?”

He signed off and said, “You have more aircraft? Sell me one. I’d forgotten how much fun horsepower is.”

“Fuel me up ... and get in back ... we’ll go look.”

They ran the checklist ... again ... and lifted off and over the Blues. He noticed that she didn’t follow the roads but ‘navigated.’ Unusual in this age of GPS and ‘Glass’ cockpits.

It’s 50 minutes by jet ... by SNJ it should be about 4 times that. But ... with the jet there’s the wait and boarding and the altitude and you’ve spent a couple of hours waiting and ... and ... and.

Seventy three miles at 122 cruise, about an hour and 15 minutes and maybe a few minutes swanning around waiting for the Maytag from Sydney to land and get out of the way.

It was near dark before we got home.

He wanted to hotel it but Daddy wasn’t having that. So there was the run to Miss Trails to eat. Myndee was back and so was Janna Li. Alice had homework that she’d procrastinated on ... she couldn’t go.

In the morning we went back to Bathurst Airport and started looking in my hangers ... all 8 of them.

“I’ll sell you choice for what Grumman sold them to the War Department,” I said. “Except the Tigercat ... I’m keeping that.”

Nothing for it ... he had to try out a Bearcat.

“For the price the US paid?”

“Yup. 87 thousand for the F8F... 22 thousand for the SNJ.” I said, “As delivered.”