Not To All Airmen

Back in KK again I seemed to be flying with only two of three copilots over my entire cycle. Predominantly I have been paired with Josh since the August roster had us both on the same duty cycle. I suspect that a quiet arrangement has been made so that one of these who is waiting for captaincy, promised in December, not be paired with me till he passes off to the right hand seat. I congratulate the self proclaimed fixer for swinging operational scheduling in his favour. May he live long and prosper.

The past week was made of rainy mornings and delayed take offs. As the afternoon flying crew, I watched the skies to anticipate the kind of day I would have with unfinished sorties landing in my lap. Normally this meant that things would spill over into the weekends, therefore it was a busy first week, this August month.

Then came 9 August 22, and four out of five planned sorties for the day were for Kebabangan, just 25 minutes each way. That's a form of respite, really. Slated for the morning sorties just as the weather turned sunny, again with Josh, I wound up the engines for a nice calm beginning of the day, managed to do the mandatory engine power assurance checks before take off and set up for lame gossip in cruise with him.

Things seemed to be on a predictable course till returning to Kinabalu airspace. After checking in with Kinabalu radar for the approach into the airfield, we both realised that we had a very long day ahead of us. There was another aircraft, a calibrator, tasked with measuring the accuracy of the instrument approach radio aids at every airfield in the country, hogging the entire airspace within 12 miles radius of the KKIA runway thresholds both ends of the runway. A sample of the radio chatter went like this:

Calibrator, in very English white trash accent: Radar, we will commence the ILS and VOR sequences for runway 20, from sequence Charlie to sequence India in 2 minutes. Clear the airspace for us.

Radar controller: Oscar Victor Romeo, you may commence sequence Charlie in plus seven minutes sir, I already have two aircraft on the ILS approach runway 20.

Calibrator, in increasingly trashy accent: Radar, we have to complete all sequences from Charlie to India, Otherwise, it will be pointless to calibrate Kinabalu Airport. Do not interrupt our sequences.

Radar controller: I know sir, but I also have my sequence to take care of.

The exchange went on. We were getting closer to Pualu Sulug,  the gate-in to Kinabalu Tower. Anticipating that the white boy would persist in being a dick, and hogging both the radio and the airspace, we slowed down to 80 knots, still at 3000 feet inbound, to prevent congesting the airspace at handover point. Josh and I kept looking at each other in half dismay, half anger. This kind of radio chatter was extremely unbecoming of any pilot, being rude to controllers and hogging the airspace like a playground bully. We speculated at the possibility that he was a fighter jock before "buying" his commercial pilots license.

While Josh was manouevreing an orbit overhead Pulau Sulug for safe separation from other inbound traffic, Kinabalu Radar got smart. He cut short the chatter with the calibrator by saying: Oscar Victor Romeo, contact Tower on 1183.

Nice!!! Just tai-chi the little gwailo turd along to Tower! He was tower's baby to handle and it was not easier on him than on radar as we learned from the radio chatter after being handed over in the approach sequence.

Eventually, it was our turn to land. Refueling was swift and before long and a quick instant coffee after, we were ready to run the second sortie to Kebabangan. We pattered through the start check list and then when it came to the start-up clearance call, Kinabalu ground replied, WS322, expect start clearance after time 25 due to calibrator. Josh looked at me for a decision: it was 0917H. I told him we would wait 5 minutes and make a second start up call at 0923H.

And so we did. This time, Kinabalu ground replied, WS322 expect start clearance at time 35 due calibration in progress. The cockpit temperature rose. Kinabalu ground we cannot be held on ground indefinitely.

I know sir but we have to let the calibrator finish all his sequences.

There was nothing I could do was there? I informed Heli Ops through their radio channel that the flight could not commence due to the calibrator. About that moment, I heard Kinabalu ground call 9-mike Hotel Lima Papa, Kinabalu Ground??? Kinabalu ground was trying to contact Hevilift, probably to update them on start clearance time. I glanced right to the Hevilift Sikorsky76 in its parking bay, and noticed that it was empty. So I called out on ground frequency: Kinabalu ground, Hotel Lima Papa have left their aircraft after being held on ground for too long. I will inform the pilots that you tried to contact them. I felt vengefully smug.

I shut off the electrical supply to the aircraft and instructed the passenger handlers to lead the boys and girls to the passenger lounge. I marched quickly over to Hevilift's parking bay and spoke to Captain Arief, the nice lad I used to fly with in Kerteh under Malaysian Helicopter Services. After telling him about the exchange with Kinabalu ground, we both agreed to attempt the next start at 0940H. I then marched into flight ops office to once again pore over the NOTAMs to see if this calibration was announced in case I missed it during my first pre flight self brief. NOTAMs by the way, are Notices To Airmen, rather like a heads-up pertaining to airfield and airspace activities by adjacent operators and agencies. Neither the ops officers nor I could find any NOTAM pertaining to the calibrator.

Sigh. Once more into the hot cockpit at 0935H, ready to request start at 0940H. It seemed almost scripted when Kinabalu ground replied to our call with: WS322, expect start clearance time at 0955H.

Oooh, the exasperation! Ground, is there an airspace closure in effect?

No sir, just calibration in progress.

Are you saying we are not even cleared for start up pending clearance to destination?

WS322 standby for start clearance. Hotel Lima Papa, clear start for Sumandak Bravo. WS322, clear start for Kebabangan.

Fast forward to the end of the second sortie.

After landing, as I walked into the pilots' room to finish off the post flight paperwork, the Pilot In Charge and the afternoon crew were there raucous with heated gossip. I wished them a hearty afternoon above their voices and they reciprocated. To begin with. Then Captain Jay turned over the NOTAM pages and pointed out, in fine print: runway 02 and 20 under calibration. The PIC then proceeded to explain what I already knew, that when a calibrator was in the airfield, everybody's sortie would be held to his whims and fancies. I know, he was just expressing his sympathies, but I was feeling a touch embarassed.  I love it when being miffed is justified, and that justification had suddenly vapourised. The fact that the entire ops room boys and girls and my copilot had missed it too, was not admissible consolation.

I understand now, that there is an alternative meaning to the acronym NOTAM.

I Will Remember You

Runway 20 departure, right turn to Kebabangan and this view. Breathless.

Paradisical.

The weather this morning was.

A good start to a working day is typified by this. Good weather, deep blues of these shores, the sweet greens, that majestic mountain watching over us loyally come what may. Aerodrome traffic so docile that your'e not waiting your turn for departure. Visibility so good that you can see the smoke rise from your destination rig a hundred and four nautical miles away. For a moment, it ceases to be a job, but a gift. A two-sortie day became a cinch, even though the first sector was to Kebabangan which entailed a breathalyser test, which touchwood, I have not failed to date, because I am a good hobbit.

Maersk Viking

Better still, I was flying with First Officer Josh, whose handling skills were so spot-on, I needn't have had my hackles on end the way I would with the ones who say much but deliver little. I was also poised to enjoy the following day as a noon pilot, meaning I could get smashed tonight and be none the worse for it on the morrow, breathalyser or no.

On another unrelated glance, I'll take the liberty of disagreeing completely with John Heywood, because there are days when I feel that his immortal quip that it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good, can be peverted to the mean the complete opposite.

For example, this paradisical day was quiet about what manner of grim news awaited me on my veteran's group chat after landing from my first sortie. Lt Col (Rtd) Fajim Juffa callsigned Pejam, perished in a fatal crash in a Piper trainer aircraft about 2000H last night. And I cannot, remembering him in these pages from an earlier blogpost, allow myself to be remiss by not remembering him once again, for all the days which these pages exist.

Pejam, I'd do it again if I could and you know well what I mean. I shall never forget what we shared on the eve of Hari Raya Puasa 2004. Yet I also know the injustice of holding you away from your better self beyond this life, even if it is merely in my recollections of you.

Be at peace at home, with our comrades, Pejam. Send them my regards. I shall see you when I cross unhurriedly over.

https://hobbit1964.blogspot.com/2010/02/how-to-rescue-fighter-jock.html

The Honeymoon Is Over.

I am not unaccustomed to the months slipping through my fingers like sand between one blogpost to the next, and that they have done since I got here in KK. Unlike the way it was in Kerteh the past year, it was because I didn't fly enough. The converse is the reason for my negligence this time. One eventful sortie after another seems to crush one week rapidly into the next in merciless succesive collision. I do not regret this. I already know that I would never wish to return to the way things were. Reminiscence carries no comfort here.

I have gradually slipped into a bit of a comfort zone with being the captain now. I am more familiar with the copilots. The one who tries to over control the captain. The one who seems ill prepared for flight and slurs in his radio calls, but who actually has it all together, with situational awareness and motor skills I cannot argue against. The one who asks ridiculous questions in flight to test the captain's replies. Yes, a wonderful mixed bag, and when you finally fly with people who were once copilots along with you, there are personality traits which start to crawl out from under their woodwork. Some are frauds. Some yet, are true to none but themselves. I love the insights I have gained. I am sure they in turn, are doing a Brutus on me in their own selected company.

But I will have one takeaway from these four months. I cannot write in arrears what I owe this blog. What I put down here requires a freshness of recollection and perspective. It cannot be Herodotusian. Therefore I will try, now onward, to write when I am still in the event. It is indeed as it is with life itself. You have to be present. Or else you could miss it all from blinking too many times.

You have my apologies, The Collective Consciousness. I will be more nurturing. Because at last, the captain's honeymoon is over.