I didn't like my crew much and I just kept to myself, I learned a long time ago, you have no friends offshore or at the hospital!
I have many failings, and an infernal curiosity to figure out the other guy is probably one of them. After ten years in the Gulf Oil Patch, plus North Sea before that, plus Africa, plus.... I can honestly say I had a bunch of good buddies out there. All over. Flying out or back, or merely chatting in the galley on an oil rig, I rarely lacked conversation and good company. Those guys were often funny as hell, once you got to know them. Everybody's got a story. From the welder to the cook, or the roustabout to the Company Man, the range of personalities and life's stories was inexhaustible.
Now, here's a funny thing. The number of times I would get a warm welcome from the oncoming passengers, and some comment along the lines of:
"It's Francis! Good to see ya, man! The pilot that talks to us!"
And I would say:
And they would say: "No! A lot of pilots we get don't say Sh....! They just fly along, and totally ignore us!"
And the next thing, we would be flying along, somebody's telling a funny story, or commenting how there's no Democrat voters (apparently) working in the Gulf, or we would be off debating the Great Mysteries of the Universe, (like women), and we would be having a rip roaring old time.
Coming from that into Air Medical, sure, big change. Back to the drawing board, figuring things out. But from the git-go, there were crew members who were happy and willing to sit down and chat, and give help on the subject of promoting happiness in the cockpit.
I'm thinking (occasionally) (it's hard work) that Life is like a one-armed bandit. You'll probably get out roughly in proportion to what you put in. Less a cut for the Casino of Life, of course.
Edited by Francis Meyrick, 05 July 2015 - 11:19.