Night Deck Landing At Kebabangan

The month is February 2022.

I think I allowed myself a touch too much euphoria at what may have been a change of luck a year plus ago as a candidate for the command course. I was infatuated. Like many of those smitten, I stopped being careful, and had forgotten that career progression has very little to do with me, but has everything to do with what the lords desire. It isn't personal. As is the case with anyone in the aftermath of a bad crush, an odd wisdom remains. That once we recognise that our ranking generals have abandoned us in the field, it hastens the fact that we must, inevitably, soldier on.

Thus passed the year since the initial skill test. It is more than high time to recognise the writing on the wall, and move on. After all, the ink is written in my own blood, sweat and tears.

There is a life to live, and a whole year squandered is its own injustice, to mention naught of parallel injustices to which reparation will not be seen. There is, after all, a new place to readjust to: Kota Kinabalu and her peculiar charms.

When in KK, grab a bite at Limau and Linen, Signal Hill. Heartstoppingly recommended.

There are three offshore helicopter service providers here, one foreign, one state-linked and one I am serving in. The 16 offshore destinations here have been carved up between the three for equity's sake. We fly to Kebabangan, Gumusut Kakap and Malikai. A new kid will be joining us in the playground, and at time of writing sits in Likas Bay, for port health clearances after sailing into our waters, before heading to her drilling site, hopefully close to Gumusut Kakap. Which will mean profitable flying hours!

Maersk Viking as seen from Likas Bay on 11 Feb 2022

The rigs are all very nearby, most within 25 minutes flight time one way, with only Gumusut sitting an hour away in Labuan's waters. I clocked a healthy 31:50 hours in January. I was hoping to repeat this amassing, and had forgotten the retardant to that steeplechase: being night qualified for Night MEDEVAC standby. No, I am not lamenting. Merely confessing to and correcting a memory lapse.

Gumusut Kakap. Pic courtesy of the web

I was scheduled for the NDLP on 3 Feb 22. Th pre flight brief was conducted dutifuly by the Senior Training captain, who noted that my last NDLP was in September 2020. I concurred. I had not seen the night offshore vista since that date, as it was on the corner of the monsoon of 2020. The understanding in Kerteh remains, that where possible, once the Monsoon Contract launches, typically 15 November of a typical year to 15 March of the following, NDLPs are to be conducted on simulator. Which is also a point of contention as the final quarter of the year is also a scramble for slots in the simulator. And as fate would have it, I lapsed my recency come December whereupon I was sent for the command course and the rest is....well, social engineering.

To market, to market and to land on a rig! Note how PFLNG follows the viewer in the background

And therefore, it was with much nervousness (yes, after the musings of the preceding paragraph) that I walked out to the aircraft at 1822H, last light on that date according to met office.

We went through the uneventful start and taxi, and were airborne from Kota Kinabalu International Airport to Kebabangan at 1845H, in darkness save for a toenail clipping of a crescent moon heralding the Chinese New Year. As is required of the NDLP check for a pilot who has lapsed night recency, I plotted the Airborne Radar Approach waypoints into the FMS, prattled the approach chart brief to my training captain and let the matters unfold as mentally flown, with minimal hiccup.

Kebabangan in daytime. Pic courtesy of Shell's website.

Finally, there she sat ahead of me on final inbound course, plotted from the prevailing wind as reported on the Platform Status Report. Kebabangan. The night vista was enchanting, the offshore installation's lights bright and reflecting off the waves in the dark waters below her. When everything looked good to me, I called out to my training captain, "Going off the upper modes. Running in." 

The flight director was clicked into standby and the rest of the approach was hands-on. The radio operator's report that wind was at 15 knots gusting to 22, became apparent at various points in the glide path. I would find my airspeed suddenly dropping to commital speed, losing 5 to 7 knots in a second and having to readjust. The same was happening with the rate of descent, 300 feet per minute at one instance and suddenly zero at another. But if Kebabangan asked for a dance, we dance, yes?

Home again, home again, jiggedy jig!

The touchdown came sooner than my hesitations would entertain. I had another 2 circuits to complete for my 3-landing recency. The dances on the next 2 approaches persisted even with in-flight patter from the left, but everything was well within limits. Handover to the other captain was done on deck and his 3 circuits ensued. Finally the training captain had a go, and we tracked back for KKIA at 2145H. He clocked an ILS approach via ADMUS and in we went to the ops room for the debrief. Which was all rather amicable.

I am now night qualified for the next 3 months. Not half bad for a lapse of 20 months. Or rather, about bloody time!