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September
2010
Logbook
Recollections
After writing
monthly aviation articles for over five
years, I sometimes find myself searching
for the next idea. Several
times in the past six to twelve months I
figured I’d written everything I
could. But each time I consider
‘retiring’ from this, an
encouraging e-mail arrives from someone
who read one of these columns, and has to
comment. They’re almost
all positive letters, many good stories
and ideas which are interesting and
encouraging to read.
Without going back and actually counting
these e-mails, I would say most are
generated from articles which discuss
medical and psychological issues.
The reason for that could be the general
pilot population is growing older, and a
large percentage of us are more concerned
with the medical status we need to
maintain in order to keep flying.
Also, responses from doctors, those who
work in advisory capacities for airlines
and from C.A.M.E.’s around the
country, indicate their desire to raise
awareness among pilots of their physical
and mental well-being. These docs
express their gratitude that someone is
discussing these issues.
A recent article about how flying careers
evolve, prompted several e-mails with
stories remarkably similar to what I
wrote about. Flying lessons started
for these people in their early
twenties. Some obtained a private
license, but then stopped flying when
mortgages and marriages ate up all the
income. Many however, found
their way back to aviation in later years
after the family obligations were done.
I was especially interested when
some fellows referred to details in their
logbooks about particular flights.
I wish I had thought to use the
‘remarks’ section of my book
for more than just a simple word or two
over the years. What stories they
could tell.
My logbook is pretty boring. But
there are many names and notations that,
although very brief, bring back some
memories, both good and bad. My
first flight was in the fall of
1971. Two pages and seven months
later, there’s a stamp that
certifies I had undergone the Department
of Transport Approved Course of Private
Pilot Flying Training, and an entry
showing 39 hours and 5 minutes, my total
time. I was a private pilot.
Following many “local
flights” and some short cross
country trips over the next few years,
the long gap occurred. That’s
when the major issues of life took
over. But in 1997, there’s a
sudden resurgence of entries, including
training on instruments and for a
commercial license. Apart from
those notations and some mountain flying,
I kept all entries strictly
business. No mention of bad weather
or engine and mechanical problems ….
although in fact, there were incidents
involving of all those. There were
rough running engines, electrical
failures, radio and transponder trouble,
issues with controllers, disappearing gas
caps, a couple of forced landings, and so
on. One specific occasion I have no
trouble remembering involved a sick
passenger. I was doing my best to
impress a certain young lady and things
went quite well until the first time she
rode in the right seat with me on a
rather turbulent Sunday flight.
Never before, or since, have I witnessed
anyone turn green. It’s something
talked about a lot, but I can tell you
the truth, this lady was really and truly
green. Even after vomiting her
lunch into a couple of air-sick bags, the
color of her cheeks reminded me of the
walls in one of the first apartments I
ever rented.
Toward the middle of my logbook, there
begins a run of rather interesting
notations. I must have seen the
importance of stating more than just the
basics of a flight by then. There
was quite a bit of mountain flying which
came naturally from the glider towing for
a couple of years. It was
interesting and quite challenging work.
Most pilots tend to avoid
close encounters with granite, while the
soaring fraternity seeks out the giant
thermals that can be generated in the
mountains. The tow
pilots’ job is to get them into
where they need to be.
I actually flew
in the Victoria Airshow in the summer of
1998. Sounds impressive, but it
wasn’t much. My job was to tow
a glider and drop him above the airport
for his aerobatic routine. Then, I
simply flew around just outside the zone
and waited for my turn to land following
the glider in. You can bet I was
careful with that landing in front of
thousands of people!
I was kicking tires at the Delta,
B.C. airport with a pilot friend
recently, and as we poked in on some of
the hangars, I came across the airplane I
flew in 1998 to get a float rating.
It’s a Piper Cub, the J-3.
Still in pristine condition, probably
restored once or twice, it was sitting
there beside it’s floats. Not
exactly certain it was the same airplane,
I needed to go to my logbook and look it
up. It was. What fond
memories it brought back, not just of the
training in it, but of every time I ever
flew or watched another plane touch down
on the water.
Going through the entries in this
historical logbook, turned into a long
trip down memory lane after all.
I’m only less than a quarter of the
way through, which may mean you’ll
read more next month on the
subject. It appears I can’t
retire from writing articles just
yet. There’s always more to
say. And it’s never too late
to start using that “remarks”
column in your book. It’s a
great way to document the memories
you’ll be happy to have.
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