[woofa.express]

I've done this one some months back. here it is again, this time edited.


Khartoum International Airport.

In 1977 we had a drought in Queensland so I worked a cotton season in Sudan, Africa. When an aeroplane service was required we flew into Khartoum. On arrival it was customary to circle the tower before landing. Don’t know why but that’s what we did.
One day I didn’t and it wasn’t long before this big black man came and spoke to me. Couldn’t understand a word but when I pointed to the tower I figured I was in trouble.
Yes, I was told, I was a very dangerous pilot. Landed without getting a green verri light. I told the tower man, who spoke good English, that in all the times I landed at Khartoum I had never being given a green verri light and asked if he would show me this green light. We he messed around in a cupboard for a while and pulled out a mains powered torch with a red light. Please will you show me a green light. Fiddles in the cupboard again and has a green lens in his hand. Screws out the red and inserts the green. But that’s not a green light, that’s half a green light (the lenswas broken in about half). He couldn’t produce it and more than 10 minutes had elapsed. I had to write a report on why I was a dangerous pilot.
To depart Khartoum one would taxi to the front of the tower and the controller would step outside and give a wave. One could then depart. One of the pilots was a hardcase Dutchman but the name of Gerard Post. He lied to the controller and said as he was difficult to see, he, the controller should wave his handkerchief. (The controllers had hankies infact they were upmarket blokes trained in England and they had house servants). It reminded us all of the movie ‘the magnificent men in their flying machines.
To depart we had to lodge a flight plan the day before, and before midday otherwise we had to wait an additional day. This was so the military had time to digest a departing aeroplane and wouldn’t shoot us down or so we were told. Remember Khartoum is an international airport.
One learned not to have high expectations and not to become anxious about anything. At least I had a job whereas back at home hardly anyone else did. We were still indrought.
Footnote. The farmers in Sudan were given 20 acres which they called fidans. They were compelled to grow 10 acres of cotton from which the government charges generated income and they could grow any other crop they chose on the other 10. I remember one was peanuts which they called groundnuts and we had soup made of these groundnuts. Farmers there, like everywhere were in the world were hardworkers, innovators and knew their business. The capital, Khartoum is where the two Nile rivers, white on the west and blue on the east, join and make theirway onwards through Egypt into the Mediterranean north of Cairo. The irrigated farm land is on the Blue Nile.
Picture is of the aeroplane I flew in Sudan in 77. Gary was young and handsome in those days !