tell a Model A related story

[woofa.express]

Gerrard’s Revenge.
It was 1977 and I was off to spray cotton in the Sudan. It was grown on irrigation along the Eastern Nile or Blue Nile as it was correctly known. Myself and 12 other pilots gathered at Heathrow Airport, dispatched our luggage and assembled near the departure lounge. We then put our brief cases altogether and a rather young English pilot by the name of Dave was put in charge of its security. Well when we retrieved it to board Gerrard’s case was missing. Stolen. His documents including visa and pilot licence all gone. This caused Gerrard considerable setback and anxiety and took 3 weeks to sort.
This young pom wasn’t unpopular not only with Gerrard but all in the camp. He was very selfish and inconsiderate. For example, always 2 aeroplanes worked on one job. If he got there first he would start each close and handy paddock with one run, and the second pilot would be left with all the distant paddocks. Around the camp and dinner table inconsiderate also.

Dave considered himself a bit of a photographer. He had a nice 35mm camera and would send the film canisters home to his mummy in England to be developed and she would get a good look at Dave and his new job. Well Gerrard knew how to fix this rotten bastard. He hired a cab and the driver took him to town and to a brothel. Gerrard took just 2 pictures of girls posing in the most compromising way then returned Dave’s camera back to where he had taken it. Dave's mummy would have had an unexpected eye full. Justice done, well some justice anyway.

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My Memories of Broome. It’s a good story and it’s true.

It was 1967 and I was flying charter from Derby WA. I was tasked to fly 2 Woodside engineers to Roebourne which is about 50nm WSW of Port Hedland The population today (I see on the internet) is 975 but would have been half then.
There was some excitement around town at the time. The post office had been robbed. The only way for the thief or anyone for that matter to exit the town was by charter aeroplane or by road.
All roads were dirt, and dusty and because traffic is light no-one travelled unnoticed. The thief knew that so he stole a helicopter. He got it airborne but crashed into the fuel shed which was only about 30 yards away. He walked away, on one leg and 1 he could ground but with excruciating pain. He buried the cash and had figured, foolishly that he would hitch-hike.
In the interim the local native kids found the loot then went to the store and started spending. Of course this abnormality was quickly detected. It didn’t take long for the cops to pick up the limping bandit.

Another story from the north of WA.

The Eighty Mile Beach. About midway between Broome and Port Hedland. I’d call it the West Kimberlies. It was formally known as the Ninety Mile Beach, but so as not to confuse it to the Victorian Ninety Beach, it was renamed the Eighty Mile beach. I remember 3 things about it. One. It was shallow along way out to sea; observed from the air and 2 the number of dried Cuttle Fish; what bird keepers put in cages for birds to sharpen their beaks. And 3, a fisherman in a small boat was missing in the area. He had made it back to the beach. His story went like this. He remained afloat for a very long time, thought to be about 10 hours. but his strength eventually wore out and he sank. Only to find the water was only 5 foot deep and he walked to shore. Thought to be more than a half mile.

Broome. The town as I remember was built substantially of corrugated or ripple iron. When overnighting there I stayed in the ripple iron “Roebuck Hotel”. The airport was well out of town. Today the town is getting to surround the airport.

re were 2 wartime hangers, both arc or domed. One held the Catholic Bishops C182 and Wirraway (as owned by Horrie Millar of MacRobertson Millar Airlines. The corroding doomed Dornier Flying Boats in Roebuck Bay that had stopped to refuel. They were transporting Dutch refugees out of Indonesia and were strafed by Japanese war planes killing all who remained on board. It is said one pilot walked out of the hotel saw, this and suicided promptly.
One other thing. Residents became tired of Corella’s and their destructiveness. They had a town shoot and collected 15 ute loads of destroyed birds. And another I remember. Seeing about 100 pearling luggers in Roebuck bay. I understand that today there is 1 only left, on display on land. Apparently plastic buttons have made them all redundant.

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The curse of Corellas.

I recently wrote on a corella shoot at Broome where I was told some 15 ute loads of these noisy, dirty and destructive birds were shot. It does seem a lot and I’ve have been wondering if that was correct. It’s a lot of birds. Broome is a small town, even though it serves the graziers in an extensive area. That would have taken a considerable amount of ammo which no supplier in town would have had on hand. It is not the sort of thing one would airfreight from Perth which is more than 1,000 miles south. Maybe it was delivered by the coastal shipping operator? Or was I told a furphy?

Kununurra (population about 1,500 at the time) was a new town some 450 miles north east of Broome. It had a new dam built to provide water to a newly developed irrigation area. The first crop grown, more or less on trial was rice. Well the Magpie Geese cleaned that out. Then sorghum and the corellas destroyed that. Then cotton, the insects made that unprofitable. Genetically modified cotton plant and better insect management improved the yield and profitability. But now, let’s cut to the chase. Grain crops provide a 24/7 diner for the birds, the dam with it’s dead trees (the trees now have their roots submerged) provided safe roosting for the corellas. Now Kununurra had a problem. A new airstrip was built only half a mile from the dam and the corella daily flight path to the farmer provided 24/7 diner in the morning and returning in the evening was across this new airstrip. The local airline had just upgraded propellor aeroplanes with jets and these birds were now of concern. The university in Perth was asked to estimate the number and they reported 72,000.

I have lived on the other side of the country for many years now and here in Tocumwal (population now 3,000) we also have a corella problem. The town is built on the banks of the Murray River so in providing both water and trees for nesting. Only 1 mile away is a grain delivery site with many tens of thousands of tons of grain: cereals and canola. There are 2 grain buyers, one can keep his site clear of corellas and the other, a national grain handler does not; they treat this town with contempt in providing a 24/7 diner. We have squadrons of these noisy, dirty and destructive birds. More than Kununurra or Broome. A company providing deterrent electronic scarers estimated minimum of 100 thousand and say it is the worst they have ever experienced in the whole of Australia.
Would you believe these birds are protected. No you wouldn’t. Eighty percent of our population live within 50 miles of the coast and they hold political power. These people love birds and so do I but not in the plagues we have in farming areas.

Three towns in our broad local area have had cases of bird poisoning. Government officials arrive from the city and threatened all sorts of legal reprisals but have never found anyone who knows anything about it.

It is well known these birds bring big money in Asia. We have sufficient to pay off our national debt.

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Red Tide. From my Tocumwal flyers small magazine.

Algae bloom is currently in South Australia and at times in the Murray River. I have had experience with algae bloom and I wouldn’t be drinking or consuming products that have been exposed to it ever again. Here is my story.

Red Tide no, nothing to do with Russian submarines.

I was working in the Malaysian state of Sabah which is located in the north east of Borneo. I had 2 work buddies to load the aeroplane, one Amat and the other Ali. We mostly took 2 when we were working away from our usual base. Company was important to them.
The day Ali was to work but he came to me “Ali very ill today, Mr Gary, cannot work”. That’s okay Ali, Amat can work in your place.
Next day Ali came to work again because it was Amat was very ill. Strange. Next day Mr Gary very ill. I flew back to base and saw a Filipino doctor by the name of Dr. Pete, a nice guy, most Filipinos are. He wanted to send me to hospital in an ambulance. I had never seen an ambulance at our base town and the ambulance probably meant a taxi with the fastest driver. Just didn’t appeal. A road full of holes and some in low gear. So I flew to town, Lahad Datu, about a 30 minute flight. You will find it on Google Maps.
A local doctor received me. I asked his name and he said it was so long I’d need to stop for a drink of water before I finished saying it, but the abridged version was Anan.
I came down with the shits badly. After 3 days the doctor was keen to send me to Tawau where they could operate on me. That didn’t appeal greatly either. Then they changed their mind. Probably couldn’t afford an orang putti (White man) death on their hands I suspect so they discharged me. Some hours prior Dr Pete’s wife arrived with a bag of grapes and a bottle of prune juice purchased from the 1 good supermarket in town. This I consumed and later in the day I was discharged.

I called a taxi to take me to the airport where my plane was but on the way I needed a toilet stop badly and had the driver divert to the Exectitive hotel. The grapes and prune juice had run straight through me. I shit. Large quantity, rapid and runny. Instantly, yes instantly I felt better. The discomfort and pain gone completely but I was left weak. The Dr. Pete’s food stuffs had cleaned me out.
Some weeks later our group was having dinner at a grubby little cafe about 10 miles out of town. A doctor was there, a mate of Dr Pete’s. He knew about the incident and said I shouldn’t have flown to town as my blood pressure was down to 70. I would have been pleased if that was my diastolic pressure, but no it wasn’t. The company director who was with us said “forgot to tell you Gary, 7 died with that”. The poisoning was from “red tide”. That is an algae, pale red in colour growing in the ocean near Tawau where we had all eaten fish a few days earlier. Red tide is not an uncommon occurrence in many parts of the world. They, Ali and Amat were tougher than I and recovered earlier.
I have just looked up Red Tide on the internet and treatment is contradictory. 1. Pump stomach out and that’s what the grapes and prune juice did. And 2. Give charcoal and that stops diarrhoea.
From the internet here is some facts.

Did you read about my charcoal incident story in a previous story. I was ferrying from Tawau to Darwin, an 11 hour flight and was violently ill for 8 hours. And I mean violently ill. Food poisoning. It’s a lesson for all.

[woofa.express]

Static electricity. It is a hazard and it’s serious. Here is several stories about just that.

Note it is not only a problem for aviation but for the motor industry also. I saw a poster at a service station asking that customers ground containers they were filling. One customer had filled a container whilst holding it above ground. Thus it was not grounded. Static electricity again. The entire service station totally demolished to ground level. Pictures of before and after on display.

In 1971 a helicopter and drums of avgas were burned at Bedford Downs in the Kimberlies. The pilot and engineer who were refuelling it were very badly burned. I made a visit to them in the Kununurra hospital. They said they had refuelled one side fuel tank of the helicopter and then passed the hose back over the Perspex bubble. Static electricity.

Another static electricity fire, 1982. Finley, just 10 miles north of Tocumwal. In the evening so we could see the blaze. An operator had 80 drums of avgas (44 gallon drums) behind a hanger. In pumping without common sense procedures static caught them (fortunately no injuries) and up she went, the lot. 6 went through the back wall of the hanger. From the picture it may look as bad as it was but this picture was taken in 2024 42 years later and the worst has faded both with time and rain.

I also had an incident. I was refuelling my trustee old Agcat from a 44 and I felt electricity run through my body. An employee had fitted a composite camloc coupling to the hand pump which was acting as an insulator and thus not earthing it as a metal one would. We fuelled then and for the remainder of the day using jumper leads to earth aeroplane to the truck. It was also my practice to use the proper fuel hose which has a copper wire running through the rubber and earthed it to the pump camloc at the source to the camloc at the delivery end.

An additional lesson can be learned here. When I was learning to fly my instructor told me never to park an aeroplane in a hanger with breaks on for a fireman will not know how to release them plus leave the tow handle in place so as he can pull it out and clear. Fortunately in this case one of the firemen was a part owner of an aeroplane hangered there thus familiar with all of that.

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To support my story below here are some pictures of service station fires that would have most probably started by static electricity. For some unknown reason I was able to attach only 1 picture. The internet is full of many many pictures of service station fires

[Jim Brierley]

Woofa, I was a mechanic for the City of LA, Dept. of Water & Power, and was sent to a nearby receiving station (incoming power lines) to adjust a clutch. This was a big truck, with a moveable pressure plate, towards the flywheel. It was a dirt yard but I spotted a flat concrete area so I moved the truck to take advantage of it. The concrete happened to be under the incoming power lines. So I got under the truck to work thru the clutch inspection cover. Soon I was feeling a tingle in my wrists, from inductive current off the power lines! No problem, I leaned a crow bar from the ground to the frame of the truck, grounding the whole truck. So I crawled back under and finished the job, with no current flowing to/from my wrists! Problem solved!

[Fullraceflathead]

Wow!!!!!!!

[woofa.express]

Originally Posted by Jim Brierley

Woofa, I was a mechanic for the City of LA, Dept. of Water & Power, and was sent to a nearby receiving station (incoming power lines) to adjust a clutch. This was a big truck, with a moveable pressure plate, towards the flywheel. It was a dirt yard but I spotted a flat concrete area so I moved the truck to take advantage of it. The concrete happened to be under the incoming power lines. So I got under the truck to work thru the clutch inspection cover. Soon I was feeling a tingle in my wrists, from inductive current off the power lines! No problem, I leaned a crow bar from the ground to the frame of the truck, grounding the whole truck. So I crawled back under and finished the job, with no current flowing to/from my wrists! Problem solved!

Hi Bill, a university trained engineer who a government bureaucracy would have hired would have designed a complex and expensive device to address that problem. Doesn’t simplicity overcome stupidity.

[Jim Brierley]

Originally Posted by woofa.express

hi bill, a university trained engineer who a government bureaucracy would have hired would have designed a complex and expensive device to address that problem. Doesn’t simplicity overcome stupidity.

yes!

[woofa.express]

Bob Caldwell.

I’ve told this story before so some readers may be familiar with it, however many won’t have read it so I have published it again. Now abridged.It was a popular story. It’s of a crop sprayer from Williams, California.

Bob became my friend when he toured Australia, calling upon local cropsprayers. A personable fellow with immaculate manners. He had married an Australian girl, her name Loraine who he had met here while on an R and R leave from Vietnam where he was flying helicopters. He was also an enterprising fellow and bought for me a cropduster from South Dakota, packaged it and had it shipped. He made many such purchases and shipments for Australian operators.
Bob was a cropduster in Williams, rice being just one of several crops he sowed, protected and fertilized. During his off season he came to Australia and sowed rice at Coleambally which is an hour and half north of us here at Tocumwal. I got to know him well.
Bob died of prostate at only 52. One always wonders if it was dioxin from 245T (agent orange) used in Viet Nam or being a passenger in an ag plane in Canberra in which the pilot crashed. (Bob had no flight controls to recover a bad manoeuvre). What bought on this cancer we will never know. His ashes are spread at Williams and Coleambally and a plaque is set in Coleambally town with a Hamilton Standard propellor set with it.

Bob had a unique and a fortunate experience in Viet Nam. While flying he was shot in the head by a sniper and survived. Unique because the bullet entered the right hand side of his helmet and exited the left side destroying the audio on both sides. You may well ask how he survived. After it entered the right audio it turned and tracked at the rear of the helmet behind his head before it’s exit. I know this to be true because I visited him in Williams, held the helmet and viewed this myself.
It is a sad event when a gentleman loses his life prematurely, leaving a wife and 3 kids. His parents were among the first ag aeroplane operators in America and they lost another son in ag aeroplane when he was only 21 leaving them childless. His parents were one of the very first cropdusting operators in America.

[woofa.express]

This is a follow on story to that of Bob Caldwell. It was written to me from my good friend Hugh.

Hi Gary
The account of the bullet in the helmet reminds me of a similar Vietnam war account. In the 1970s I worked as a laboratory assistant at UNWA. My boss was a former US medical officer deployed over there. A conscious but wounded soldier on a stretcher was brought to him and he asked him “what’s the problem?” The soldier replied “not sure doc but I’ve sure as shit got the mother of all migraine headaches.” The paramedic (John Ormond, my former boss) removed his helmet and discovered a bullet hole in the centre of his forehead. An X-ray revealed that the projectile had passed exactly between the left and right lobes of the brain, exiting from the back of his head. John watched him recover and saw him on a flight back to the US.[/SIZE]

[woofa.express]

The day Woofa crashed Olive (my Model A Tourer).

I have a policy of not permitting animals in our house and motorcars with the exception of my dog Woofa in my Model A’s and only then he was permitted provided he was seated on the floor on the passenger’s side.
I had a 10,000 gallon fuel tank in my yard, petrol tank that is. It was my policy to provide fuel for my employees each Friday. Friday only, no records were kept. I kept it in my yard to keep some control on it.
It is always my good habit to close doors when I stepped out of a vehicle but on this day I left my door open and the vehicle idling. A silly thing to do. Well Woofa figured it was left open for him to board so he jumped in and pushed between the seat and the gear stick. But he was wider than the space available and he pushed the gear stick into reverse thus having Olive chug backwards. I was not quick enough to stop it and Olive continued to chug until the fuel tank immobilised it but it continued to chug with the rotating wheels digging into the loose gravel surface. Fortunately the damage was minimal, only a scratch on the fold up luggage rack. I didn’t reprimand Woofa for he would not have understood. I loved both Woofa and Olive so what should I do.
? Pictures of the victim and villain posted below.


[/SIZE]

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A Town like Alice. This is a travel log.

That’s the name of a well-known book and movie written by Neville Schutte. It’s of a romance in a Japanese POW camp and concluded in an outback town near Alice Springs in the Northern Territory of Australia. The name Alice Springs is a water hole named after Alice Todd, the wife of the Superintendent who constructed the telephone line which runs from South Australia to Darwin. The town is commonly called “the Alice or simply Alice”.
A population of 27,000 with about 6k being native Aboriginal. It’s a town with youth out of control and like many towns there is little or no consequences for youth and young adults who commit crime.
In addition to the population about 2,000 of the residents are American service men who are attached to the local intelligence collecting satellites and missile warning facility.
The Todd river runs through Alice. As you see in the picture it is a dry river but can run a banker rapidly after heavy rain or a big thunder storm and can cut off the town on the south which isolates the airport. There is an annual boat race on the Todd which is run each August. It is the only dry bed river in the world to have a regatta. If you click on the pictures (they are internet pictures) they will enlarge.

[woofa.express]

Birdsville is getting ready for their biggest day of the year.

Yes, it’s the Birdville Races. Thousands of people will turn up in aeroplanes and in motor cars to this remote town. Remote town, it is 1,100 miles from Alice Springs, 1,200 from the state capital of Brisbane and 800 miles from the nearest capital of Adelaide which is the state capital of South Australia.
For this race meeting the town of 110 gets a population blow out of 7,000.
So why do people live at Birdville?
1.To cater for tourism. Why do tourists go there?. Because it’s remote. Some 80% of the Australians live within 50 miles of the coast and this is a big excursion to visit the outback. Most of them see each side of the roadside. Unless they take a flight in a tourist aeroplane based there.
2. The hotel is historic but a new motel type accommodation sector has been added. As mentioned they go for the horse races.
3. to attend the camel race meeting in July. Not as famous as the race meeting.
4. The young ringers go to check out a new young girl pilot. Her name is Amelia commonly called Millie.
the pictures are 1 the Birdsville Pub and horse races up to 200 aeroplanes have arrived in the past and Millie (grand daughter) the young pilot based at Birdsville and 3 the camel races held in July each year.
Click to enlarge.

[katy]

The name Alice Springs is a water hole named after Alice Todd, the wife of the Superintendent who constructed the telephone line which runs from South Australia to Darwin.

I wonder if I'm any relation to that fellow, being that my last name is Todd.

[woofa.express]

Hi Katy. I have just received an email form my friend in Colorado who has looked into an AI site trading as ChatGPT. He asked how his grandparents traveled from Burna Vista Colorado to Worthington Indiana in 1911. In 1 and half minutes it came back with the schedules of how it could be done. And it had 4 connections and was an overnight.
I'd go there for your answer about your forebears with the same name as Alice in Alicesprings.
However this whole AI thing worries me because it will be competing with my grandkids for employment. cheers, gary

[woofa.express]

The Filipino Pirates had made a raid on Lahad Datu.

During the late 90’s I spent several months each year working in peninsula Malaysia also East Malaysia which is north and west Borneo. I was spreading fertilizer on oil palms. These plantations went for miles and miles. Our East Malaysian base was Saharbit which is close to the notorious war time death march kampungs (village or towns) of Tawau, Sandakan and Ranau. And it’s just off the coast of the Philippines. So close Filipino pirates made working visits to coastal kampungs including our working base, Saharbat. And the bigger kampung, nearby Lahad Datu. They had long boats with 3 powerful outboard motors. We had armed guards with sawn off 12 gauge shotguns.
One day they made a raid to the nearby town of Lahad Datu. (at the time I was tucked up and safe in my little home town of Tocumwal) Their first call was the police station but the cops had deserted shortly before: they had got word. The pirates released the prisoners and they too became pirates. They also cleaned out the armament safe along with the cash from the HSBC bank before they departed.
On route back to the Philippines they left a boat anchored near the Kampong Saharbat (our base), called some government authority and told them they had done so. It was 3 days later the navy arrived along with the media. Carefully coordinated the navy blew the pirate boat out of the water and this was apparently recorded and shown world-wide. “If you raid a Malaysian town the Malaysian navy will get you!” was the message. Obviously a face saving exercise made for them by the pirates. The bullet holes still remain in the walls of that bank today. It's a shame I feel that I never took any photos so there is nothing I can show you.

Not related to this story but on the outskirts of Lahad Datu was the local headquarters of the Japanese army left from WW2. Like all Malaysian structures the steel roofs it was badly rusted but the wooden structure remained intact. It was demolished and what went with it was part of war time history which I feel was a shame.

[woofa.express]

John Fairweather was a legend.

He was the publican at the Daly River hotel. But where is Daly River and what about it might interest you?
Well it’s south of Darwin, 130 miles in your motorcar and as the name suggests it’s on the Daly River. It’s more than 50 years since I was there but this is how I found it. The pub is built on high ground above the river which empties into a large swamp. It’s a large swamp, maybe 100 square miles from memory. Living in the swamp is herds of buffalo and miles of wild pigs. I was told the cops went on a social shooting weekend and cleaned up more than 2,000. I used to have fun mustering them up along with the buffalo just for the hell of it. At the southern end was an American WW2 bomber. It had crossed the coast and ditched. I don’t remember if it was a 2 or 4 engined aeroplane.
I have been to the internet to research the pub and the area. It looks like the pub is now a transportable building so it is likely the original was burned down. There was no houses there but now I see on google maps there are many. Why? Probably the fishing.
Now to the publican John Fairweather. A story teller. This is what I remember and was told. Some blokes were camping on the river bank. Each day one would walk up with 2x 20l plastic containers and ask John if he could get water from his water tank. John would always oblige and he’d fill the containers and struggle down the bank to his camp. John in his strait face would tell us he had a pump on the river going chug chug to pump the water up to his tank. He also said he would not be camping there because the crocodiles were numerous in the river. Australian has 2 types of crocodiles which are found in the warm waters of the north. One, a salt water fellow commonly called a salty which is ferocious and can’t be frightened or intimidated. It’s possible to run the wheels of my Cessna up his back (so to speak) and he would not move. The other is a fresh water croc known as a Johnson River Croc. A timid fellow. I would fly down the river and look in front, abut 200 yards and see them running into the water. All crocs are reptiles and would need to sun themselves to warm.
Two other stories about the daily river was the aboriginal mission downstream from the pub. A church mission. The young ones had a big dormitory bedroom. Too many of the young girls were getting pregnant so a chain mesh fence was erected to segregate them. Well the fence wasn’t all that was getting erected and the girls were still getting pregnant. So a second fence was erected with a suitable gap between them both.
The other happening was the annual election for the mayoral position. Al the station folk would congregate there once a year and vote. Approval from the nominee was needed and he was required to shout the bar 3 times. That would have been expensive but the position and status must have been worth while.
And what was I doing at the Daly River Pub. Flying (Bell 47 helicopter) geologists around who took samples of water from the creeks that flowed into the river. This was rushed to Adelaide for assay looking for the possibility of uranium.

[woofa.express]

Kids are embarrassed by their parents.

My daughter Sarah had many friends come to stay with us at our small country town home. Many were urban kids and it wouldn’t take too long for them to ask if I could take them for a ride in my old car, which was my 28 Tourer (Phaeton). They would all pile in and we were frequently overloaded. We would drive up the town centre and if we saw any boys or young men I’d give the klaxon a blast and the girls wave like crazy. Then we’d drive up the road heading out of town and with oncoming cars I’d flash the lights and again give the klaxon a blast and the girls would wave as if we knew them. As these cars passed us one could see the quite confused looks on their faces. My passengers would be excited but Sarah would shrink down under the seat and yell for me to stop it. She’d give me another blast when we returned home. Even though years have now passed I am still reprimanded by Sarah, but I love her.

Was I the only parent who embarrassed their kids? No I don’t think so but I did enjoy doing it. My 28 Tourer in which the visiting kids would request a ride. This picture appeared in the Victorian Model A Club’s 2022 calendar. It was shot at the state of New South Wales and the state of Victoria is over the river the bridge leads to.