Chapter 15

Wolvenkopft Manor, Constantia, Cape Town.

The morning broke golden on the mountain above Wolvenkopft Manor. The slight breeze from the east-south-east, indicated that today is going to be hot. A few lazy, foggy clouds drifted by on the breeze, but scattered far and wide apart. There would be no rain, only a slight headwind in flying to Morningside.

Breakfast was at seven. Cookie served eggs, sunny-side up, bacon, beef sausages, toast, and hash browns, washed down with a mug of dark Arabic coffee. Due to the fact that I’ll be leaving soon, I declined a second cup.

“Are you okay to leave the house as is?” I asked Ash.

“Yeah, Cookie is here and so is the rest of the staff. They are all trustworthy.” he replied.

“I’m going out to the bird. Bring your stuff when you’re ready. The sooner we leave the better, before that breeze turns gale force.”

“East wind ... It feels hot. And a hot east wind brings heat and moisture from the Atlantic.”

“Sounds like the beginnings of a rare summer storm.”

“Well, let me go get my stuff. I’ll come help you get the bird out.”

“Thanks! I’ll just pre-flight her inside the hangar so long,” I replied, picked up my clothes bag, and slung it over my shoulder. My flight bag with my charts and other tools were in my right hand.

I walked out the side door and up the little incline to the garden shed slash hangar.

As I opened the doors of the hangar, I could not help but marvel again at the sleek form of the AS332J Puma parked next to the EC-135. Ash flies that bird but doesn’t have a type rating on the EC. What a shame. I suppressed a silent chuckle. The Puma is about the same as the Mi-17 HIP, but a bit more modern and the panels are not in Russian. Also, the rotor blades are not made of laminated wood.

“Don and Dave expressed an interest in the EC, seeing I’m not using it,” Ash said as he came through the door with his kitbag slung over his shoulder.

“Well, are you going to fly it, or just use it for a nice decoration in the hangar?”

“I have access to two EC-145 helicopters on-board the Ocean Wanderer. Grumpy bought them to replace the Puma on the ship.”

“Well, do they use them both?”

“Nope. One active and one spare. Next time they are in Cape Town Harbour, I’ll have them unload one for me. It’s more economical to use the 145 than the Puma.”

“And you say you are not type rated on the 135? The difference between the 135 and the 145 is like the Taurus Judge five-shot revolver. It is chambered for .45 ACP but can fire 410 shotgun shells as well!”

“Damn! I must get me one of those...”

“What I am saying is that there’s not much difference between the 135 and the 145 helicopters. These days they’re called the Airbus helicopters and are now designated H-135 and H-145.”

“Jeez! When did Airbus acquire Eurocopter?”

“Not long ago. It’s like Boeing acquiring McDonnell-Douglas. It’s now the Boeing F-15 and not anymore the MD F-15,” I chuckled.

“I should keep track of these happenings!” Ash replied as he swung his kitbag next to mine into the luggage compartment of the helicopter, tying it down and ensuring that the balance is in order. It helps to have someone that’s a pilot too; they keep weights and balances in mind.

“So, are you going to fly the scenic route along the coast, or straight over the mountains to Golf Echo, the Greyton NDB?”

“It all depends on how soon you want to see the red head!” I chuckled, then opened the cockpit door and checked that the rotor brake was engaged before we move the EC out of the hangar.

“Dial up Golf Echo on 270 KHz or Morse; dah, dah, dit, space, dit. We can keep it in the eye while the flight director instruct the autopilot to follow the GPS...” Ash chuckled. “Either way there’s not much difference in time en-route or distance.”

“Yeah, we are only going about a hundred klicks straight as the crow flies,” I remarked. “We get up to 6000 feet and once over the Hottentots Holland, we drop to 2500 and enjoy the scenery.”

“Good enough for me! Let’s get the lady out!”

We were airborne at 08:43 on the chronograph and climbed away to 6000 feet MSL. As we crossed Cape Town International, we were already at 4500 feet MSL, plenty of time to reach 6000, the magic number to clear the mountains.

Ash fiddled with the navigational radios and selected 270 KHz for the Greyton NDB. (Non-Directional Radio Beacon) The Morse code audio sounded up as NAV radio number one picked up the signal. I chuckled softly to myself, The GPS purple line on the moving map display was clear and all the directional and distance information was displayed without Ash fiddling with the NAV radios.

“Dial in the Overberg TACAN on the NAV two radio,” I suggested. (Tactical Air Radio Navigational System.)

“Yeah, then at least we have a distance AND a direction,” he confirmed, and as he dialled the frequency in the DME (Distance Measuring Equipment) instrument gave as a distance in nautical miles. The VOR needle on the navigational instrument became active and displayed the course to the radio beacon.

“There! We have distance and direction, not that we will use it or fly in that direction,” I said.

“Nope, but some useless information for plotting our course, if we need it.”

“Yeah, I can see over the mountain to nearly Greyton. When we see the town clearly, look for the dirt road going south out of town and then follow the hills to the east.”

“So, are we VFR or IFR?”

“Dammit, Ash! VFR, but it won’t hurt to let the instruments think we are IFR.” I said, looked at the heading on the gyro compass and dialled the heading bug on the analogue instrument to the top of the dial. Then I selected HEADING HOLD and ALTITUDE HOLD on the autopilot and activated the autopilot. The autopilot followed the GPS purple line. Yeah ... We won’t get lost.

“There! She’ll fly herself now till we cross the mountain,” I said.

“Right, now how about some coffee while we wait?” Ash asked and brought out a thermos flask and two mugs.

“Jeez! You came prepared...”

“Nothing like some Arabic to soothe a dry throat, or two!”

“Yeah, I’ll go for it.”

“Dark as the devil, as strong as hell, and as sweet as a kiss! I went a little overboard with the sugar...” Ash chuckled.

“My kind of coffee! We can’t agree on whisky, but at least we like our coffee the same way.” I retorted.

The Hottentots Holland Mountains slowly crept up on us, its ravines and steep cliff ridges becoming more and more visible, sparkling deep green as the morning sun rays started to highlight them. Here and there moving dark patches that were shadows of the clouds mottled the green, olive and browns of the slopes. Some of the remaining winter snows shone brightly in the morning sun.

Down below us, the farmlands and small holdings of the Cape Flats gave way to Summerset West, The Strand and the outer reaches of Stellenbosch. Out to the right of us the Atlantic Ocean was a kaleidoscope in shades of blue. The cream-white sandy beaches of Muizenberg, Strandfontein, Macassar and The Strand shone dazzling in the bright sunlight.

Towards the west of Gordon’s Bay, where the rocky shore begins, white surf shot high into the air, as the swells smashed into the brown and black rocks.

Eighteen minutes into our flight we crossed the 450-meter-high summit of Sir Lowry’s Pass, (1476 feet MSL) 4524 feet below us.

“Such a sight, these mountains...” Ash commented.

“Sky-piercing and magnificent in their majesty,” I replied.

“Where did that come from?”

“What?”

“Sky-piercing and magnificent in their majesty?”

“Oh, I read a lot! I think I’ve read it somewhere on a travel blog once,” I chuckled.

“I thought you were a poet and didn’t even know it...” Ash smirked. “I leave the book writing to Angie; she seems to get something out of it.”

“What’s her degree? Ph.D. after her thesis on something or the other. I can’t even recall the title. I think the title was one sentence of sixty-three words!” Ash continued and took a sip of his tin-mug of coffee.

“And your thesis?”

“A Comparison of Uniaxial Compressive Response and Inelastic Deformation Mechanisms in Freeze Cast Alumina-Epoxy Composites Without and With Rigid Confinement.” And Ash took another sip of coffee. “See! Only twenty words in the title.”

“I rest my case ye ‘onner!” I chuckled. “You lost me around; ‘A comparison of Uni-something’...”

“Uniaxial” Ash said.

“And you want to tell me you know what the words’ means?”

“Uniaxial is having, or relating to, a single axis.”

“Yeah! Okay, Doctor Windsor, I get your point. If you wrote the thesis, you probably know the meaning of the words,” I chuckled and set the autopilot altitude hold to 2500 feet. Beneath us the mosaic of irrigation farmlands and fields covered the low rolling hills of Caledon District for as far as the eyes could see. Fields of gold interspaced with lush green.

Only the Riviersonderendriver Mountain range was diagonally in front of us, but we will not be passing it. No, Morningside Meadows was somewhere in the haze on the horizon to the east of us. Another twenty minutes or so flying time.

“Man! I must visit the Overberg more often.” Ash said and let his eyes scan over the vista in front of us. “It looks so quiet and serene.”

“You lived here for three months, didn’t you?”

“A little further on, near Bredasdorp. The Foundation still has an airfield there.”

“I thought you stayed at the Air Force Base Overberg?”

“Yeah, but Grumpy Charley bought out an old abandoned airfield about five kliks from Bredasdorp. Angie hid away there after the fiasco with the Smitswinkels Bay project. It’s where Lorie took her from PPL to qualify on the Mirage III, in just over eight months.”

“Damn! Lorie must be good!”

“And combined with a willing and bright student.”

“Yeah, just look where Angie is today.”

“You have the same in Andie. She’s clever too. Leave her in the hands of Olivia, Leah, Mai-Loan and Lorie and in a year she will fly 737s or 747s.”

“She needs to complete her studies too.”

“Fear not, my friend, fear not. That girl is going to outperform you.” Ash predicted, then added: “Like Angie’s been with me.”

“It’s good to have wives that make your life meaningful,” I said. “So, when is the big day? The day you and Angie finally tie the knot?”

“I think when the tomboy-wild-child in her finally goes to rest.”

“Yip! And the kids are already out of the house.” I chuckled.

“You mean Roxy and Darya?”

“Yeah.”

“That was a funny thing to happen. Darya was somewhat of a lost soul. Angie took to her like a duck to water, and the ‘mom-daughter’ thing just started as a joke. Then Roxy came along and just fell in with the flow of things.”

“How’s Angie’s parents with the setup?”

“Oh, they are okay with it. I don’t know how I can get away now, that with the running of the Foundation and all, but Angie and I need to make a run up to Namibia for a week or two.”

“Do it during the school holidays. Angie will not be giving lectures, and the foundation can survive two weeks without you.”

“It sounds like a plan. Let me run it by the red head.”

“You do that,” I replied. “Oh, look! Just past that hill with the circular irrigation field next to it, you see it?

“Yeah, the dirt road makes like a seventy-degree turn to the right, and just out of the turn there’s a dirt road leading off roughly north,” Ash confirmed.

“You can’t see it now because the hill is in the way, but that’s where Morningside is. Just over the hill. That north road leads to Nooitgedacht.”

“I can make out some barn or something, and a little house to the right of it.”

“The wind is from the east, south-east. I’ll fly along till we’re over Nooitgedacht, then swing south and come in over Nooitgedacht and the north to south road. You will see the Morningside homestead just as we turn on final approach, west, south-west.”

“Let’s do it!” Ash replied, and I swung the copter in a slight right-hand turn, dropping down to five hundred feet above ground level; high enough to miss the rolling hills, but low enough to be in a position to land.

“Right! Here goes!”

“I see some small houses along that north to south road,” Ash commented.

“Those are the permanent farmworkers houses. There are about five or six families staying there. It was built about forty or so years ago, after my grandpa sold Nooitgedacht to Andrea’s grandpa.”

“Funny how life takes one. You would never have guessed that there’s a chance for you to get Nooitgedacht back from the Louws, did you?”

“Never thought of it. And now, if Andrea decides to turn it over to me, what the hell am I going to do with it?”

“Farming! Raising cattle and sheep,” Ash chuckled, and as I looked across the cockpit at him, he had a schoolboy teasing light in his eyes with a grin on his face.

“Me! A farmer?” I laughed.

“That’s what you said not so long ago!”

“Ash, I was just joking with you.”

“I knew I was right! Maybe one or two months on the farm, then, back to playing lawyer and flying 787s or maybe a 747F?”

“They’ll need to base that 747 in Cape Town.”

“Why?”

“How can I take Andie away from Morningside? She’ll wither and die!”

“Yeah. They say there are just three lawyer jokes, the rest are all true stories!” Ash sighed.

“Remind me to whack you on the head after we land. I’ve got my hands a bit full right now!”

Chuckle!

Morningside Meadows, Caledon District, Western Cape.

The landing was smooth. I brought the EC into the clearing between the trees at fifty feet and selected the spot I chose from the satellite orthophoto. I took her down and kissed the skids onto the flat newly mowed lawn. Andrea, Lorie or Angie might have something to do with mowing the lawn, because the rotor wash picked up the tiny bits of cut grass and blew them outward in a cloud away from the chopper.

While the rotors spun down, I noticed a few faces watching the landing. TC and his squad were at the side of the house while Andrea, Lorie and Angie plus some people I guessed were the farmworkers watched from the patio at the front door.

The rotors were sill lazily swinging about when a little flaxen blond girl came running out to the aircraft. I opened the cockpit door and was nearly smothered as Andie reached in and grabbed hold of me. She had to get up on the skid step to reach me. I guess everyone around then knew how the wind was blowing in Andie’s life. No secrets here.

“What took you so long, It’s past nine!”

“Well, hello there, Buttercup! Good to see you too!” I chuckled and unbuckled with an out of breath and smiling Andie still on the skid step. “And we had a little headwind coming out here,” I added.

“Well, you are here, that’s all that matters! Give a girl a kiss!”

“With all these people around? Don’t you think they will suspect something is afoot?”

“To hell with them, I missed you!”

While the reunion with Andrea took place, Angie, Lorie and TC came out to the chopper as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the reunion between Ash and Angie was epic, although a little more subdued than Andie’s and mine.

“Come girls, we need to go water and feed these two horses.” TC quipped. I was about to respond with something witty when Lorie whacked him on the head with an open hand.

“Ouch!”

“Serves you right, you uncivilized beast!” Lorie admonished, then she turned to us: “Please pardon this guy. I’m trying my best to teach him manners, but ex-Marines are a little hard to retrain. No matter what you do, if you turn your back they still pee on the carpet!”

Laughter erupted.

“Yeah, that reminds me to beat Ash here for his tasteless lawyer jokes!” I said.

“It wasn’t a joke it was a real story!” Ash defended. “But, if you want to beat me up, you’ll have to bring sammies along, ‘cause you’ll be busy the rest afternoon.”

“Hey! That’s my line!” Angie retorted.

I noticed a gentleman standing to the side with a grin on his face. He was about three or four years my senior, dressed in casual but nice pants and a dress shirt with the top buttons unbuttoned and leather shoes on his feet. I recognised the uniform and was not wrong in my deduction of his profession when Andrea turned to him and said:

“Uncle Arnold, please come meet Dusty.”

“Arnold, Arnold Slabberts. Pleased to meet you, Dusty.” And he held out his hand in greeting.

“Uncle Arnold was my father’s attorney, now attending to the estate,” Andrea clarified while wiping one of those stray locks of long hair out of her face and behind her ear.

“Good to know that you are looking after Andrea,” Arnold said.

“One must do, what one must do.” I replied, shaking his hand and not knowing how much “Uncle Arnold” knew or suspected about me and Andrea. Well, if he did suspect something, it was now proved beyond reasonable doubt that something was afoot by Andrea’s exuberance upon my arrival.

“You sure know how to make an entrance, Dusty!” Arnold chuckled.

“Oh, thirty-five minutes flying sure beats an hour and a half driving.” I replied.

“And it is safer, I believe. They say the most dangerous part of flying is driving to the airport.”

“You got it, Arnold. Spot on. Especially driving in Cape Town traffic.”

“Come, let’s get something to drink. Sofia has made her award-winning milk-tart,” Andrea said and started to pull me towards the patio.