FlightGlobal.com
Home
Premium
Archive
Video
Images
Forum
Atlas
Blogs
Jobs
Shop
RSS
Email Newsletters
You are in:
Home
Aviation History
1961
1961 - 0217.PDF
FLIGHT, 17 February 1961 217 Malaya to Middle Wallop THIS is the second and concluding instalment (the first appeared afortnight ago) of an Army Air Corps officer's account of a flight with his wife from Malaya to England in a 17-year-old Auster Mk 3 whichhad started life as an AOP aircraft on the Burma front. Here the story continues from Chittagong, East Pakistan. OUT over the sea to Calcutta, across the mouth of theGanges and the huge labyrinth of rivers. It was almost darkas we started to descend for Dum Dim, and the industrial haze made the field hard to find (the radio had again packed up)but just then a Dakota passed us on the port side, crossing our nose. I piled on the power and followed him down, and welanded neatly behind a Comet and in front of a Viscount. What a way to fly! We refuelled in line widi all the professionals andwent into town. Here we had two days' rest looking at the sights of Calcutta. All too soon it was time to move on, and so the flight acrossIndia began to Gaya, a large airfield with all the aids, runway lights, terminal buildings and a staff to run it—but no aircraft.We were the first to land since March, and only the third that year. The airport is a diversion for Calcutta but is rarely required.On to Allahabad, Bhopal and Ahmedabad, places that bring nostalgia to old members of the Army who recall chukas beforebreakfast, but the old barracks, although still there, would now break the heart of any ex-Indian Army man.At Allahabad the radio gave its final squawk, but again luck was with us for here is the Civil Air Training Centre, an organiza-tion run by the Indian Government to train airline pilots. Instruc- tion was given on Chipmunks and HD.2s, Ansons and a Dakota,at the rate of 10 rupees per hour, i.e., £1 an hour even for the Dakota ! There was one snag in this, however, the £1 rate appliedonly to those under 25 years of age. Older candidates had to pay the dreadful sum of £1 10s! The centre let us have the use of workshops and we spentthe morning cleaning plugs, niters and, in fact, carrying out a Check 2. We also traced the radio trouble to a faulty valve. Afterall this, we were ready for a further 30 hours. Through India, leaving via Bhuj on the salt flats and leavingthe green fields for the desert (for just how long we did not realize) and on to Karachi, where we committed a classic boob. It just goesto show what happens when soldiers fly. Karachi cleared us downwind and finals, which struck me asstrange because there was a military Bristol Freighter lined-up on the runway. One of those splendid conversations started thatwent like this; "Have you got a Bristol Freighter on the runway?""No." "Well there's one on the runway I'm trying to land on."It transpired that we were over Mingaladon, north of Karachi, instead of on the other side. We were in a bit of a spot againbecause we were short of fuel, having flown from Allahabad. The intention was to collect fuel at Bhuj but, as was to happen anumber of times from then on, no fuel had turned up and so we had continued, trusting that the forecast wind was correct. Luckilyit was, but we did not have enough margin to go messing about Engineering development in Central India: an irrigation dam BY CAPTAIN MICHAEL SOMERTON-RAYNER Part Two in the haze over Karachi. Pride went out through the windowand I asked for a steer, the final instruction being to look out for the airship hangar—which at long last, incidentally, is disappearingas the salvage men get to work. The goof was entirely my fault, in not reading the names ofairfields correctly, and was so stupid as to make me angry with myself.Sand, sand and still more sand, and why had we painted the aircraft yellow? It was the finest of desert camouflage and halfthe world seemed to be desert. Grass was not to reappear until we reached France, and in the meantime it was just desert. AtJiwani the oil-company representative implored us to stay and rest for a few days in his "bungalow." We tied the Auster downon the sand, climbed into his jeep and drove to his bungalow which, he proudly informed us, was the best hut for 100 miles.Truly a justifiable claim—there was no other hut for 100 miles. We shared one glass between the three of us, and used the onespoon and two forks to have meals on a rota system. Supplies were brought in once a month, but every time a non-scheduledaircraft flew in it brought an extra parcel and we had brought some tins of food from Karachi. We would have liked to staylonger with Mr Manzoor for Jiwani is a peaceful spot, if you discount the fact that he slept on the verandah with a loadedrifle by his side to ward off the marauding tribesmen. But we had to push on as we were behind schedule. Meteorology is an expensive toy, we decided. During the wholetrip we never once received a correct forecast, the best being at Dijon where the met man walked across the room, climbed upon the radiator, looked out of the window and reported proudly "Fog." This we had noticed on our way from the town to theairfield. However, the forecast for Jiwani to Jask was the classic; "15-knot headwinds all the way; 4,000ft will give you the bestchance," and so we decided on a fuel stop at Jask en route for Sharjah. Three and a half hours to Jask was the plan. We shotpast the place in 2hr 5min with a 25-knot tailwind, and made Sharjah in 3hr 20min. How much is one of those lovely colouredmet balloons? Sharjah, a dreary one-night stand, was notable only for the firsttaste of British landing fees—twelve shillings for putting down on a bit of sand. Quite a lot when India, Pakistan and Burma onlyever charged a shilling, even at the Internationals. It would have been better to have used the new civil field at Dibba, just a fewmiles away, but we did not know of its existence until iater. Out of Sharjah and up into the oil kingdoms, where airstrips, builtby the oil companies on exploration jaunts, abound all along the coast. A long detour around the coast via Tarif and up to Dohato avoid the water crossing. Although the direct track had been planned, everyone was now full of talk of the Dakota which haddisappeared a few weeks earlier on the same run. [Continued overleaf
Sign up to
Flight Digital Magazine
Flight Print Magazine
Airline Business Magazine
E-newsletters
RSS
Events
