Someone tell an airplane story

[Michigunner]

I miss Skyhook.  I wish he would come back and tell some scary airplane stories.

He had one of those little home-built planes that was stressed for aerobatics.  I bet he could come up with something real good!

I was down at the Fort Wayne airport to see my son-in-law off to a business conference.

One of the fighters, maybe from the Indiana Air Guard, slowly started his uneventful take-off roll, and then quickly raced down the runway making the loudest sound you ever heard.

After a long time, he made a dramatic move and  pulled up slightly off the runway, raised the landing gear, and continued faster and faster, a world-class attention getter.  When he came by us, our mouths were wide open.  Everybody!

Finally, at the last moment, he pulled into vertical flight over the airport, up and up, until barely visible.  Then he rolled over and departed in the direction of his origin.

It was a memory of a lifetime.  Maybe he's the type of guy who tries to fly under the bridge.  I don't know.

I wish you could have seen it, too.

Bill

[Richard S]

Bill:

Until Skyhook checks in, here's a video of the Joint Strike Fighter.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-4742849525846050256&q=F-22

[sslater]

Richard S.,
Neat site.  I don't know how they can call the Joint Strike Fighter a "fighter".  Did you notice there is virtually NO rear visibility?  Then take a look at the F22 and see how the pilot sits up high in the canopy with full 360 degree vision like the F-16.
The JSF has great maneuverability, but how can you evade what you can't see?  Maybe it has some sort of wide angle TV setup with a HUD or panel display, but that can't be as good as a pilot's peripheral vision and turn of the head.
Some years ago I had a video clip of the Soviet Flanker doing aerobatics.  The Flanker had advanced (for the time) vectored thrust that made its agility incredible to watch.


Steve

[Richard S]

Here you go, Steve:  

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=7475538254258696066&q=F-22

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-1994695142386399860&q=Russian+fighter+aircraft

(I should be working on a brief, but I've got a case of summertime laziness today.   )

[Michigunner]

Sadly, this guy was no chicken when it came to tight turns onto final approach.

Please scroll down to  "B-52 Crash Documentary" and watch what happens to wild people, and the innocent souls who are on board.

http://www.alexisparkinn.com/aviation_videos.htm

[twostar]

A 747 belonging to an unnamed American carrier lifted off from London Heathrow and as the crew was cleaning up the gear and flaps they popped an engine.  They can't land with a takeoff load of fuel aboard so the captain immediately began dumping fuel.  Heathrow departure immediately called and told them they were in a "no fuel dumping" area and headed directly for Windsor Castle.

The captain keyed his mike and said, "Son, do you have a phone?"  The controller said he did and the captain drawled, "Well you call the lady and ask her if she wants a litte fuel or the whole damn plane."

Of course I have no personal knowledge of this incident.

[Richard S]

Once in the 1980s I was on a British Airways 747 out of Heathrow to Dulles.  We took off in the rain and were still climbing to cruise altitude when suddenly there was a loud "CRACK," the cabin lit up like a flourescent bulb, and you could literally feel your hair move with static electricity.

After a few moments, a calm and very British voice came over the intercom with this message:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking.  

"You probably noticed a few moments ago that the aircraft was struck by lightning.  For some of you, this may have been the first time to have experienced such an event.  I must admit that it was for me as well.

"Be that as it may, we have now run through a check of the aircraft and found all of the bits and pieces to be intact and functioning as designed.  We are therefore continuing on to our destination at Dulles International.  Please settle back and enjoy your flight.  The cabin staff will soon be passing among you to offer complimentary beverages of your choice.  I understand that the brandy we have on board today is quite respectable."

The British . . . ya' gotta love 'em!

[Michigunner]

Gentlemen, The stories are very fine, indeed.

You have to wonder if twostar was the 747 pilot.  I say he was.  

Bill

[Richard S]

In 1993, in the airport of one of the larger cities of a certain country of West Africa, I was passing some time in the bar of the departure lounge while waiting for my flight to a certain city in the northern part of the country to be called.  (The regional airline shall also remain nameless.)  I was on my second beer when two gentlemen dressed in pilot uniforms, one with four stripes on his sleeve and the other with three, asked if they could join me at my table since all other seats in the bar were taken.  I agreed and, assuming that they had just come off duty from a flight, offered to buy them a round of drinks.  They readily accepted.  A little later they accepted my offer of yet a second round.  Our conversation was just some "small talk" --  things such as current monetary exchange rates, hotels and restaurants to be recommended, and hotels and restaurants to be avoided.   When they had finished their second round of drinks they stood up, thanked me for my kindness, and left the bar.

My flight was called about fifteen minutes later.  I picked up my carry-on bag, strolled out of the departure lounge and across the tarmac, and climed the mobile stairs into an aging BAC 1-11 which was to take me to my destination.  The cockpit door was open and -- you guessed it -- there were my two recent drinking buddies, the pilot and his first officer, going through the pre-flight procedures.    

(Let's just say that I ordered up and threw back two of those little miniature bottles of scotch as soon as I had reached my seat.)

[theirishguard]

What else could you do, Richard?
Tom

[twostar]

Thanks for accusing me of being that glib but no, I flew much smaller and  faster military equipment.  The best one I heard was a civilian controller being asked by a pilot only identifying himself as Air Force 214 if he could have "Flight Level 650" (or 65,000 feet, above where normal aircraft can reach.)  The controller replied, "Buddy, if you can get to flight level 650 it's all yours!"  The pilot keyed his mike and said "Roger, decending to 650."  He was flying the SR71 Blackbird and wanted to come down, not go up.  (It's hilarious to a pilot.)

[Michigunner]

Bravo!  That's a wonderful story, perfectly told.

Bill

[Richard S]

The year was 1977, just before the Iranian Revolution.  I was required to get to Tehran on the first available flight.  Connecting in Rome, I managed to get the last available seat on an Iran Air flight.  It was a coach-class seat on the rear bulkhead, the middle of three on port side of the aisle of a Boeing 727 rigged six seats abreast in coach.  Almost missing the flight, I was one of the last to board the aircraft.  

In the aisle seat to my right sat one of the larger women in whose presence I have had the misfortune to spend several hours in close proximity.  She appeared to have brought all of her worldly possessions on board as carry-on luggage and had her parcels stowed above her in the overhead bins, behind her in the bulkhead space, beneath her under her seat, beneath the seat in front of her, underneath my seat, and beneath the seat in front of me.  

In the window seat to my left sat a wizened little man who smelled like a goatherd and looked the part as well.  He also had filled his allotted space with assorted pieces of carry-on baggage.

My only carry-on luggage was a briefcase, which I placed under my legs and hoped for the best.

About thirty minutes into the flight something happened which astounded even me -- and I considered myself to be pretty jaded in such things.  The little goatherd on my left rummaged through one of his parcels, produced a small sterno stove, placed it on the floorboard between his feet, lit a fire, and began to brew a cup of tea!

At that point, I activated the call button to summon the stewardess -- not to report the pyrotechnic little goatherd but to request a double scotch with no ice and no water.  The stewardess came, noted my request, and then haughtily informed me that I was a passenger on an Islamic airline which did not serve alcoholic beverages.  She completely ignored the pyrotechnic little goatherd, who was still engrossed in brewing his tea.

After I finally arrived in Tehran and was ensconced in my hotel room, I remember paying the concierge about $150 to deliver a fifth of Johnny Walker Red to my room.  (He informed me that neither Black Label nor Chivas was available.)

[theirishguard]

Well, I guess one must tough it out, when the black label is not available go for the red.
Tom

[Richard S]

Well, I guess one must tough it out, when the black label is not available go for the red.
Tom

Yep, sacrifices must sometimes be made.  Just always remember to avoid a vile distillation called "Ogongoro" if it is ever offered to you.  A couple of shots of that stuff and you can expect to sacrifice at least two days of your life to the hangover.