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Who was your most difficult, awkward, ungrateful SOB passenger? Most frustrating, unruly cargo?


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Who was your most difficult, awkward, ungrateful SOB passenger? Most frustrating, unruly cargo?

 

If you ask my buddy Peter (my hero) he will tell you (quietly) (over a beer) of the time he dreamed up this novel R22-get-rich-quick scheme. All on his ownsome. He was Down Under, and he started going around these Australian sheep farms with his Robbo, His job? Searching for sheep who had wandered off. Find 'em. Land. Jump out. (R-22 turning' and burnin'...). Run like hell. Catch sheep. Hog tie sheep. Place struggling, unhappy sheep in R-22 passenger sheet. Fasten seatbelt. Fly sheep back to farmer. Collect $75. Clean out R-22. (...) Repeat same entire sequence. Ka-Chingggg!!!! :)

Brilliant scheme.

 

Until the day he retired -just like that- from the sheep retrieval business.

(Peter shivers in the telling. Takes another drink. Stiff one) (lowers his voice) He had caught this really BIG, moody old ewe. She was a tough old broad, well used to her own independence, and she was not just gonna idly obey Peter's passenger brief. Like hell. Mid-flight, in the cruise, 2,000 feet, she not only BUST her ties, she wriggled out from under the seat belt. Peter will give you a really accurate first-person description of what it's like fighting a really, really pissed orf sheep running amok on the flight deck of an R-22 at 2,000 feet in the cruise. Talk about unusual attitudes, semi inverted, etc. Not good. :o

 

Yours truly, not exactly the Einstein of the Helicopter Fraternity, suffered for a very long flight at the hands of the dirtiest, smelliest, most disgusting African you can possibly imagine. Crazy man brought TEARS to my eyes. That bad. Here's that (true) insight into the aroma of one of my worst ever passengers....

 

A Certain Rich Aroma :unsure:

 

So, what's your story? :huh:

 

Let's hear it!

Edited by Francis Meyrick
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That's an easy one to answer but not a good story.

I was flying a pipe line contract in the Gulf of Mexico... Okay, that one can go two ways because I flew 2 different pipe lines, each with, uh- "difficult" management on particular hitches. One of those pipe line contracts had 2 pump stations offshore, each with it's own assigned helicopter. I fly the off shore technician crew that is managed from a third shore-based facility, out of a fourth beach depot, the perpetual red-headed stepchild. So far, so bad- we didn't 'belong' anywhere we work and bunk. Not an issue at a customer facility as the techs would be there to fix something for the customer, but a surprising irritation at the company sites because they didn't actually see the work done, just an asset that they can't control.

Anyhow, one contract company field boss bragged that there were exactly two pilots in the Gulf that were good enough for him, each covering a shift at his station. I had flown the techs for years there and occasionally moved station hands and parts when and and if, no problems, so when scheduling called to see if I could cover a seat for 3 or 4 days, I accepted.

The first day, no problem. I brought the newspapers out, moved crews and his highness (no small talk or banter) but life was good.

The second day, big project on a nearby production platform going out of service and the crews dismantled their pipeline. That evening, the foreman announced that I would be staying the night on that remote helipad, no facilities. I advised that I could not do so.

Harrumph. In the years past I had been required to change customer plans for aviation considerations, no problem. Three minutes to and from the base platform, not an issue as it takes that long for the hands to decide who sits where... I thought.

Except I was wrong, this was about 'everybody sharing the work, aviation shouldn't be different' and I am just another hand- except that I am not. Oh well, no purple faced cussing, a seeming reasonable conclusion.

That night, as I am inspecting the aircraft on our 3-ship and an auxiliary helipad base platform (the platform being dismantled had a crappy, tight single ship on top), I discover a developing maintenance issue and call the roving maniacs, er- remote field maintenance team, who are on-site bright and early, before the day starts for the pipeline folks.

That day goes well, kudos, right? Well, no- a quiet crew finishes up. The field boss tells me that HIS pilots never have maintenance problems, which is absolutely false or delusional, but an argument that has no winning side for me.

The next day is field boss break day, and I find the maintenance issue is back... The roving maniacs are on the beach for their crew change, so there is a maintenance delay to changing field bosses. His Highness has nothing to say to me when I finally carry him in and then I am released to the technical side.

Dropping paperwork at the company base, the base manager tells me I am a "runoff mo-fo" as far as that field boss is concerned, I can't cover his platform, there are still only 2 pilots in the Gulf good enough...

My assigned customer crew know all about it, and think it's funny. They know the SOB will be asking for the use of their helicopter and it will be completely up to them as I will no longer be a shared resource as far as His Highness is concerned. Being the thumb in an egomaniac's eye is uncomfortable.

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Carrying the 22 or so body bags containing Thai troops minimal remains from a 3 ship mid air in SE Asia -RVN. I witnessed the midair the day before while flying C&C for the Thai commander.

 

And Diana Ross, I told her rep after he said, "no looking at her, no talking to her to including pre-flight briefing, no asking for autograph, no using air conditioning, on and on". I told him I was not doing the flight!!!!!!!!!

 

Some kids from my one & last prom flight that drank most of the miniatures in the rear bar, turning the uncapped remaining liquids upside down in the racks and opening a door in flight and then busting out the rear sliding window.

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Until I can think of my worst, I met a "friend" who may have once flown (with) Martha Stewart.

She seemed to at one point about half way through the flight, dropped her pen.

She notified the flight crew that she dropped her pen.

They looked back and saw that it was right at her feet, and said "Ms. Stewart, your pen is right by your foot, and turned to go back to their instrument panel and controls.

She then notified the crew that she already knew where the pen was before they told her, and she didn't need to tell her where her pen was. So they apologized and went back to flying thinking the matter was over and done with.

Martha wasn't done yet.

She then notified the crew that she needed who ever was in charge to pick up her pen and hand it to her.

So the PIC unbelted, went back and picked up Martha's pen. The pen that was right at her foot and within easy reach for her to bend down slightly and pick it up herself. She wouldn't even have needed to unbelt if she didn't want to. So he handed it to her and nicely said, there's your pen Ms. Stewart, sorry we didn't realize sooner that we should have picked it up right away.

Mind you it was a fractional, and she was only part owner of a quartershare.

So if you ever need a pen picked up, let Martha tell you how best to deal with that situation.

This of course is something I didn't personally witness. But I have no reason to doubt my "friend".

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When I was in the Marines my Platoon Sgt came to my unit from Marine 1. He was one of the Marines that fly aboard Marine 1. One day when Hillary Clinton got on board with her man.... They made eye contact and he said "good afternoon ma'am how are you?" Her reply was "why are you talking to me?"

 

This was back in 95...... And anytime she was shown on TV he would become verbally abusive to the television set.

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@ Flying Piggy

 

Hmmm.... If I heard this once, I heard the same story a dozen times from different eye witnesses in Iraq. I'm with your platoon sergeant. Tell him I'll buy him a beer - anytime, anywhere.

 

1) Bushy baby turns up in Iraq. Behaves the exact same, whether cameras are "On" or cameras "OFF". Same guy. Seems to enjoy chatting and joking with the troops. Loves it when somebody cracks a good one he hasn't heard before. Falls around laughing. Genuine. Everybody likes him. Appears very human. What you see is what you get. Clumsy Bush-isms. But you gotta laugh. Dammit, he laughs at himself. Genuinely moved by soldiers' deaths and debilitating injuries.

 

2) Missy Hillary.

 

Former cheerleader. Former? Still craves the adulation. Mutton dressed as lamb. Charges -straight faced- $250.000 to hear her speeches. What's that per word??? What kind of stratospheric ego propels a human being to elevate themselves to such esoteric levels of Pride & Haughty Arrogance? Disdain of snotty little people, like mere lowlife Military Platoon Sergeants?? Dubious grasp of Economics & History. Free Enterprise? Small Government? What's that??? Wants more BIG Government, more taxes, more control, more HER in charge.

 

Turns up in... Iraq. Another photo op.

 

Stands with her people, unsmiling, disinterested, bored.

LIGHTS!!! CAMERAS!! ACTION!!!

 

(BIG SMILE!) :) :)

 

Serves troops.

 

(BIG SMILE!) :) :)

 

CUT!!! THAT'S IT!!! IT'S A WRAP!

 

(Whispers of awe.......WHERE DID THE F#@K'N SMILE GO????)

 

(Blank expression) :angry:

 

(goes back to her own people) :rolleyes:

 

(You can SERVE YOURSELVES, YOU GUYS...) :angry:

 

HUH!?

 

Don't just believe me: Ask around, the many guys who witnessed these two totally different personalities.

 

PS: Confession: :ph34r:

 

It's against my attempted peace loving world view, and my self imposed attempt to walk in harmony (Hummmmmm.....) with all living creatures, BUT...

 

I YELL ABUSE at her on the TV too...

 

:huh:

Edited by Francis Meyrick
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Were they polish, or Polish ? Aren't they even pronounced differently ?

@ aeroscuttle

 

you're being picky again. He could be sensitive, you know.

Here, let me try and help: it is clear his beef is that they weren't polished Polish. I don't think he has anything against Polish polish, but I could be wrong. . See? Now I have polished that one off for you, I might finish by suggesting they were poles apart. You need to be broadminded to understand these kind of Pole-itics.

Thank you. I'll shut up now. :(

Edited by Francis Meyrick
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I wish I knew Shitzus from shinola. They have shiny coats, but a little extra shinola on a Shitzu never hurts. This particular Shitzu is a mascot for my helicopter. Just to make it helicopter related.

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Unruly cargo? Well...kind of.

 

I was working for PHI, assigned to a ship that was based on an offshore oil platform not far from the mouth of the Mississippi River. Big place, room for 60 but normally only about 30 lived there. Usually the water around our platform was relatively calm, but we had a period of REALLY ROUGH water one summer as a storm was approaching.

 

The platform used salt water in the toilets and urinals. The salt water was sucked up out of the gulf by two huge submersible pumps that looked like this.

 

submersiblepump_zpsdb93cda4.jpg

 

The rough seas caused *both* pumps to break from their mountings and drop to the seafloor. This caused us to have no toilets - not a good situation. The oil company had a new pump "hot-shotted" down to the PHI base in Venice, Louisiana. They sent me in to "the beach" to retrieve it.

 

The pump came in a big box measuring about 18" square and 12 feet long. Too big to fit in the helicopter. I'd have to sling it. Meh- no problem, right? Done plenty of slingloads - how bad could this one be? Heh, silly boy...

 

We got the slings wrapped securely around the box, and then attached them to the helicopter and awaaaaaay I went! Somebody got a picture of me with the load.

 

Slingloadwaterpump_zpsdc1d88d9.jpg

 

Right away there were problems. The load started to rotate clockwise underneath me, which I sort of expected. What I did not expect was what the load would do as it rotated. Starting from the 12 o'clock (straight ahead) position, as the box rotated the wind caught the sides of it and dragged it off to the right. As it continued around to perpendicular, it now was fully sideways to the relative wind and dragged backward. As it continued around more it swung out to the left this time, and then finally around out front. It wasn't just rotating, it was describing a huge circle underneath me, and it was pulling the ship around with it.

 

I tried speeding up to see if it would stabilize. Bad move, I almost lost the ship. Literally thought I was going to have to punch it off and send it plummeting to the marsh below. But then I thought - when I do get back to the platform I'm going to have to take a poop...not to mention all of the guys who were eagerly and some, urgently awaiting my arrival. Slowing down, heart in mouth, I got to a speed where the oscillation was uncomfortable but controllable: about 60 knots.

 

Just before I got to the "beach out" point an Air Logistics ship pulled up beside me to take a look. We flew along together for a bit. He could see my helicopter being yanked around as the load rotated below me. "That doesn't look like very much fun," he said dryly over the Venice Local freq. I told him that it was not.

 

It usually only took me 17 minutes to make the 30-mile flight from Venice to our West Delta 104D platform. This time it took over a half-hour. I was working hard and sweating, and at 60 knots you don't get much help from the little window vent deflectors. After what seemed like hours in the air, I set the box down on the helideck to the cheers of my fellow workers, and heaved a big sigh of relief. Worst. Slingload. Ever.

 

They got it installed in record time.

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@ Nearly retired.....

Great story. Good photos too. I KNEW there was gonna be some good sling stories.

Now I'm waiting for a vermin-critter story. Creepy-crawley. Sllither-slither.

I've got a snake story I need to go and scribble one day.

 

@ Aeroscuttle....

 

So you're saying you're happy and full of.... proud of your Shitzu?

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@UH60L-IP

 

Some thought, but I know you wouldn't.

 

I work surrounded by all sorts of riff-raff, including lots of low life current and active military. I use the terminology from the point of view of the likes of the great Mr Saul Alinsky, mentor in radical LEFT-LEFT-LEFT wing politics, and devoted Godfather to the Clintons and Little Barry and sundry other, impressionable, weak minded Statist types. ("put ME in charge, and I PROMISE YOU it will be okay....speech?....you want a SPEECH?.... that WILL cost you $250,000.... and HERE...are my demands.... everybody MUST.... CHEER ME !!!!!......especially when the cameras are ON....)

 

I've been amazed just how many times I have heard very similar stories from so many different people. It's like a given that if you are the Clinton Clan, or the Oblah-ma Cult, you have to find ways of quietly (or not) signalling your (veiled, perhaps) contempt for the US Military. And everybody else.

 

Now, have you ever wondered, what "the lone Marine" is actually thinking, when he salutes? :rolleyes:

 

When Old Bill would come along, fresh from popping (expensive) White House cigars in um.... delicate... places ordinarily frowned upon by us ordinary plebs?

 

When Missy "Mutton dressed as Lamb" Hillary parades by, nose in the air, ("why are YOU speaking to ME?") carrying her latest snazzy 6-cent "world politics re-set button"?. Her, the acknowledged genius and authority on matters of History, Free Enterprise Economics, Human Nature, and Inheritance Tax avoidance?? (which she championed for OTHER people...)

 

120912hillaryclinton-300x250_zpsa41ae211

"TRUST ME"

 

I have. Here he is, saluting, sworn to give his life, if necessary, to protect the recipients of his crisp salute. And he would. Undoubtedly. No second thoughts. 100% for sure.

 

I scribbled a scribble about that Lone Marine. Maybe he'll read it one day, when he's got time. In the can, perhaps. I salute HIM. He has my admiration.

 

Rome is burning, and Emperor Nero is basking in his Magnificence, and goofing off playing Golf. His would-be successors are already jostling shamelessly to get the best position in front of the compliant cameras. The false Media Circus, bought and paid for, spineless and compliant, scrupulously avoids the tough questions.

And the lone Marine salutes the Small, Small Man.
He is well aware of the thinly veiled contempt, but carries on regardless. His is not to ask for 'why'.
His is just to dream and die.

 

:o

 

The full story is here.

Edited by Francis Meyrick
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Now, have you ever wondered, what "the lone Marine" is actually thinking, when he salutes? :rolleyes:

 

...

And the lone Marine salutes the Small, Small Man.

...

He is well aware of the thinly veiled contempt, but carries on regardless. His is not to ask for 'why'.

His is just to dream and die.

 

:o

 

The full story is here.

 

I don't wonder what he's thinking because I'm sure I know- don't salute the person, salute the rank (or office). Like any point of duty, it's something one does because it is a fulfillment of your honor.

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I don't wonder what he's thinking because I'm sure I know- don't salute the person, salute the rank (or office).

Thanks for clearing that up. So... what's he thinking BEHIND that point-of-duty thinking?? I'm thinking he IS thinking. Don't you think?

 

:huh:

 

article-2767220-219AF25E00000578-526_636

Edited by Francis Meyrick
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  • 2 weeks later...

 

You do have quite a way of telling a story

When I was a penniless student, I used to frequent this bar in County Kerry, Old Ireland. I'd go down on my old Matchless motorcycle for the weekend. Well, if I did it right, I didn't have to buy any beer. Just tell a story, pause, coming up to the punchline... and mutter.... ("Lordie, I'm THIRSTY...").... and a full pint glass of Guinness would magically appear in front of me. It got to where the landlord would ask me to call ahead if i was coming down, and then he'd round up his customers, and (way-hay)... three o'clock in the morning, well after closing time at 11.30 pm, we'd still be at it. Laughing our a... off at the foibles of the human race. No target too sacred. Sitting in the dark. Then Garda Murphy would knock on the door. We'd all recoil. Oh, no! Busted! But, no, in HE would slink, for a drop o' the barley.

 

So I confess to telling whopperseeeee stories, all my subversive, anti-authoritarian Life.

 

:unsure:

Edited by Francis Meyrick
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