When I hung the DC-3 up I looked at the Beaver hanging next to it and recalled a couple of close calls in small planes.
One was the time we took a slug of water and lost power just before we landed out in a bush camp. The pilot managed to force the water through the system with the wobble pump and we regained power just as the floats were tickling the treetops.
The other time was when a completely unexpected wind gust hit is broadside during takeoff. We had begun our takeoff run into the wind per SOP but the wind shifted 90 degrees out of nowhere and lifted the port wing and dipped the starboard wing to within an inch or two of the water. A couple inches more and we would have cartwheeled. Water creates an awful lot of drag and it doesn't take much.
What's interesting is I spoke with the pilot I flew with both times and he's alive, healthy and retired in his 70s now.
I guess looking back on it I made a good choice flying with him. After all, I'm alive.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this:
http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
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