Embarrassing oneself while flying...

[TheGreenGoblin]

I have a couple of personal stories, of course, but I kick off with an amusing and very honest account of a faux pas written here by David Dickson a contributor to Air Facts...

During the Summer of 1966 I was working at the Philadelphia Seaplane Base and accumulating hours towards my Commercial certificate. I worked at the seaplane base while attending college and in 1964 I had acquired a 1939 Aeronca Chief seaplane project. I finally had it completed and flying by the summer of 1966. She hadn’t flown since 1947.

I planned to do the required long cross-country flight by taking a week at the end of the summer and heading north. My ultimate destination was Greenville, Maine, on Moosehead Lake.

The pre-war Chief was a good little floatplane. She didn’t get off the water as soon as the J-3 I had been flying, but was 10 to 15 mph faster. Also, having a door on both sides was a plus for docking.

Labor Day weekend found me heading to Highgate Springs, Vermont, the first overnight on my multi-day trip. My fuel stops were the seaplane base at Peekskill, NY, Garnseys Airport on the Hudson River north of Albany, and Westport, NY, on the southwest side of Lake Champlain.

The first two stops went fine. The stop at Westport would be at a marina where I would be able to get some white marine gas. Although not by the rules, this was somewhat common back then with floatplanes if avgas wasn’t available.

It was a beautiful day and as I taxied in I noted a nice open dock with no obstructions. Not being a seaplane base, you were own your own for docking. Not a big deal—I had ideal conditions. I just needed to taxi up, cut the switch at the appropriate time, drift alongside the dock, and step off. A piece of cake.

Well, I stepped down onto the float and slipped right off into the lake while grazing my head on the dock on the way down. Of course, being a holiday weekend, there was a nice size crowd watching this fiasco.

As I came up for air I saw my Chief drifting away, so I swam over and doggy paddled it back to the dock. The feeling of humiliation was overwhelming.

The manager helped me out of the water and was initially concerned about my bleeding forehead. When it was obvious that it was just a little cut he started to laugh and said this was one of the best and funniest things they had seen in years. He joked that he would pay somebody to stage such an event.

They really treated me well and loaned me a pair of goggles so I could dive down and retrieve my glasses, which were in about eight feet of water. Darned if I didn’t find them.

A Less-Than-Graceful Arrival

Anybody else have their own stories of embarrassment or have read or been told similar stories?

[Pontius Navigator]

My skipper. I will cut out the preamble, we had been invited to return to Coltishall with our Nimrod to meet with this Reserve officer who was both rich, he owned a shoe factory, and was a friend of the stn cdr. He wanted to video our arrival and the descent of our master race pilot (the captain was an AEO).

All went as planned, we deplaned and our Ace appeared at the top of the stairs. All went well until the bottom when he went ace over apex - All recorded in glorious technicolour.

On another occasion in Gibraltar a grey funnel line vessel was flying the gin pennant. Now our intrepid pilot had previously served on the Ark so briefed is on the protocol for boarding one of her majesty's War canoes. Accordingly, at the top of the gangway he drew himself to full height, stood brief to attention and faced the quarter deck before falling off the gangway onto the deck. Sadly this was not caught on film.

I have no recollection of the rest of the evening at Coltishall or Gibraltar.

[CharlieOneSix]

Not while flying but PN’s story reminds me.....Ark was in Fremantle for Christmas 1965. We had a function onboard one night with local guests and of course that involved the officers being in formal rig, ie white jacket, bow tie etc.

I escorted a young lady home afterwards but for some reason never made it back to the ship until about 0800 the following morning. Trying to get onboard unnoticed was a forlorn hope as I was in the rig of the night before. Jack of course saw me and there were lots of wolf whistles and cheers. Cue one embarrassed Sub Lieutenant C16 who subsequently got a bollocking from the Commander.

At the same time the rumour spread that I had escorted Ursula Andress on board another night. It wasn’t true - it was someone else - but I did nothing to dispel the rumour - it even came to light a few years ago when an ex-RN friend stayed here.

Embarrassed flying story to follow soon....

[Pontius Navigator]

Ah, another RN dit.
In the good old days when we had parades on Saturdays this particular parade was after a Friday night dining in.
The following morning, sqns drawn up, officers had taken post, and lots of thick heads when along the side of the parade square the RN staff officer could be seen striding down the road resplendent in mess dress.

He went straight to his office and in best style began, Sir, I have the honour...

[Pontius Navigator]

Which further reminds me of a dining in night when I was very tired and the the amusement of the top table had a technicolour yawn.

[CharlieOneSix]

Mid 1980's. I'm the Chief Pilot of one of the three helicopter companies in Aberdeen. The phone rings on my desk - it's Ops. Due to an incident on one of their rigs about 110 miles off Aberdeen, BP are evacuating all non-essential personnel and as most of our crews are already on tasks Ops ask me to crew a helicopter. It's not an emergency, but time is of the essence. Planning done, we walk out to the helicopter and do the pre-flight. There are no passengers of course, just the two of us and we are expecting 18 passengers inbound from the rig.

So off we go, climb to 3000ft as usual for an outbound sector on the route structure. About 10 miles offshore the co-pilot looks back into the cabin and groans. At this point I should explain that each client dictated which of several approved lifejacket types should be carried on their flights. So there are no lifejackets on the helicopter until just before a flight is taken out to the line and Ground Ops ensure the correct ones are carried.....except that didn't happen with the short notice of the flight and neither the co-pilot nor I noticed they were missing. So embarrassingly we had to turn back, collect the lifejackets and then resume the flight.

On arriving back at Aberdeen the MD called me into his office. We were good friends so my bollocking was gentle and as I turned to leave he presented me with this cartoon that he had drawn....

[Pontius Navigator]

Adjacent to life jackets - flight rations with vital component missing:

From Aden, concentrated squash - 7 bottles - no water
From Lossie, 10 hour trip - 10 man crew - no cups.

We washed out a couple of tins and made do for the 4 hours before doing a PD to Leuchars with a request for cups.

Or out of Cottesmore, Tuppaware was new and an underspend meant we got TW drinks containers to replace the little wax kiora type. They held much more juice and the tight fit for the plastic straw made them practically spill proof.

We used to crew in an hour before take off so the plotter started in on his juice during the prestarts. Once airborne he was busy doing nav things the container semi wedged at the back of the nav table. During our normal rapid climb the cabin pressure dropped and the air in the container being at a higher pressure....... The juice sprayed all over his chart.

[TheGreenGoblin]

On arriving back at Aberdeen the MD called me into his office. We were good friends so my bollocking was gentle and as I turned to leave he presented me with this cartoon that he had drawn....
nopax.jpg

An MD with a sense of humour, priceless, for all the rest there is Mastercard...

[TheGreenGoblin]

Many years back I invited my then better half's brother in law to accompany me on a flight to North Wales. I had just purchased one of those hand transceivers having previously having had a radio failure while in Class D airspace (one of two I have had in similar circumstances, flying battered old tin cans), so I was very proud of my prudent purchase. Anyway cometh the day cometh the nincompoop, i.e. me! It was a perfectly clear sunny but freezing morning and the aircraft was frost bound and the maintenance shop with the steam deicer was shut so we had to set to work with plastic scrapers and an hour later (and behind schedule) the aircraft appeared to be clear of ice so I stepped up on the wing to give my passenger a briefing on how to enter the aircraft, and was sawing the air rather portentously in the manner of Hitler, or possibly imagining myself as some sort of Boac flying boat Captain of yore, only to stand on the marked walkway nearest the fuselage when I slipped on a strip of ice hitherto unseen by me and fell with a resounding thump on the concrete before my bemused passenger. Fortunately unhurt but with a certain amount of ruffled dignity I cleared the ice, remounted the aircraft and the passenger followed me in.

ATIS copied, start up approved and Tower clearance obtained, we lined up at holding point Apha and with more noise than performance, after take off clearance, we trundled down the very long runway and were away. It was only as I changed frequency and requested a Flight Information Service that a sense of foreboding overcame me as I realized that I didn't have my new transceiver with me. The last time I had seen it was when I was clearing the offending ice that had so deflated me earlier. Could it have been left on the wing, only to blow off on the main runway of an international airport? I could see the headlines, 747 destroyed due to FOD, object left by an idiot in a tin can! I immediately requested a frequency change back to Approach and informed them of my possible stupidity and they informed me that they would get a team out to check the runway and the taxiway I had used. The offending item was found, undamaged, just short of Alpha where I had performed my power checks. Approach suggested that perhaps Captain Klutz might personally want to come and retrieve his goods at the Tower upon his return. What my passenger, who had started to go very pale at all this information reference the idiot flying the aircraft booming in his head seat, thought was never articulated.

When I got back I taxied to the big boys side of the airfield and went up to speak to ATC, who approached me with the transceiver and grim faces as thoughts of the CAA, prosecutions and further ignominy ran through my addled transom. I was handed the offending item, told to be more careful next time and then they both started laughing and thanked me for the performance on the wing which they had watched with great interest and mirth through binoculars after I had failed to inform them of the delay to my departure time due to the icing. My mortification was thus complete!

[4mastacker]

As this little dit involves aircraft and flying (of a sort), I'll stick this in here.

Gutersloh, early 70s, one of the DAMOs had the habit of pissing-off the VAS see-in crew by bounding up the aircraft steps as they were being pushed towards the scheduled trooper in order to greet the trolly dolly with a big beaming Maltese smile as she opened the cabin door.

All went t/u one cold day when he failed to stop at the top of the steps and went flying off twixt steps and aircraft, meeting the concrete below with a cry of pain and a nasty sounding 'kerrack'! A broken leg earned him a "Serve you right....sir" from the VAS chiefy.

[Pontius Navigator]

4ma, there is a God

[ribrash]

Obviously I don't fly as much as I'd love to but this caused my face to turn red.Back in the day I was going on 17 and was on my way to see my aunt and uncle in the states after just finishing my O-levels.I was in a charter club were I paid a few shilling each week over a year to pay for my seat.We flew from Manchester to New York on a TWA 707.The stewardess's handed out cans of beer with gay abandon.Eventually I needed the loo.I walked to the back of the plane,located the loo door,saw it was showing vacant.I gripped the handle and pulled.I was confronted with an old dear about 70 sat gurning on the loo.I slammed the door and rushed back to my seat and ducked down till she went past.Not too drastic I admit but I can still see her face in my minds eye after all this time.

[Undried Plum]

I'm glad this isn't an ILAFFT thread.

Even in this semi-anonymous confession box, I'd be embarrassed to tell a coupla tales.

I've nae doot several others here would too.

[4mastacker]

PN, yes indeed - couldn't have happened to a nicer chap.. This particular DAMO was PITA at the best of times and had been "advised" several time not to do it. We were totty-spotting (an activity that took place every time the trooper arrived) from our section's offices in 5 hangar when Fg Off M......... skated off the top of the steps. I don't think he appreciated the big 'wha-hey' from those seeing-in the aircraft.

[PHXPhlyer]

Our hero, yours truly, was returning from successfully triumphily passing the Flight Instructor practical test. Landing back at the college airstip in a slightly gusty crosswind wing lifted while braking. Didn't get off brake in time and flat-spotted / blew one of the mains.
Next day, I went to see the head of Flight Program to ask for an instructor position. He asked how I could instruct if I couldn't even land a plane without damaging it. My response was that I would teach from experience and that was one more experience that I had.
Got the job.

PP

[Pontius Navigator]

4ma, everyone loved the red arm band with its brass wheel.

I was on a 10/14 6 day rotating shift. I had two beds in my room but only me in it. I came back after a 14 hour night shift to find my stuff on the floor and someone's kit on my spare bed.

The SAMO, a flt lt junior to me had put another AMO in my hut. He had a spare bunk in his hut but thought he could use my bed instead - wrong.

[PHXPhlyer]

Happened to a friend:
Night charter to Las Vegas.
On descent toward the bright lights was told...Las Vegas, New Mexico.

PP

[4mastacker]

>>slight drift<< When movements was just a TQA for stackers, I wasn't aware of any "up their own arse" attitude from the stackers who were doing their movements tour - at least at the secret air transport base in the south-west of England where I done my movers tour. The time when the Movers went their own separate way after splitting from the Suppliers, seems to be the tipping point when they started getting up other people's noses and trying to justify their existence.

I done an out-of-trade tour with the Movers many years later and by that time their attitude was Movements = VC10/Hercules/Tristar* and nowt else; they were quite happy to let the Army's Royal Corps of Trucks takeover all the other air and surface movements tasks.

* during my time on movements, we had to deal with such exotic types as Pembrokes, Andovers, Argosys, Devons, Hastings, Beverleys, Britannias, Belfasts, Comets, Hercules and that poncy new one with four engines at the back.

[CharlieOneSix]

Not really embarrassing but this has just popped into my mind. It must be sometime in the mid to late 70's and I was tasked with flying a JetRanger to Eastbourne to pick up Demis Roussos from a football field after his evening show and take him to London. I think the flight was one of the last single engine night public transport flights I did before they were banned in the UK - the JetRanger was fitted with Schermuly flares in case the engine stopped!

Demis Roussos sat in the back on the opposite side to me but with his huge weight we rotated sharply around the left skid on take off and wobbled into the hover. It must have seemed unprofessional to him. I've just looked it up on Wiki - he was 147 kilos.

When the Schermuly flares were time expired, for training purposes we used to fire them off at night over Shoreham airfield and carry out night autorotations under their illumination. We could only do it with a northerly wind so the flare and parachute drifted out to sea rather than set someones house on fire if they were still burning when they reached the ground - and of course we let Police and Coastguard know because of the inevitable 999 calls.

[Pontius Navigator]

One time,rather late in my career, I have no recollection of events preceding the following morning. It was a simple transit hop, about 3 hours in the Shake (sic) and I was not operating. I settled down in a comfy seat down the back prepared for some R&R.

Set started and taxied but stopped a couple of hundred yards from the tower. The skipper then told me to take the flight plan across and be quick. There was of course a self generated gale and it was a long trot there and back.

"I thought you could do with the fresh air" he said.