The Beginning

Ever since I was little I had loved planes and anything to do with flying. One of my earliest airport memories was of being in the observation area when my sister went away. I could see all these big jumbo jets going right past my nose. I wanted to be on them. My mother says it was just always that way with me, ever since I could talk, which is saying a lot. She tells me I always used to watch the planes go over our house and point at them and jump up and down. My parents knew this was something I wouldn't really grow out of, except for the jumping part maybe.

Childhood Memories

I remember going to my sister's best friend's house one day after school. Her name was Kim, and she had a brother my age, Adam. He and I were great mates right from the start at kindy. We did everything together. We even got busted for throwing water at the other kids together. So this day when I went over to Adam's was nothing special. Except for the fact that he had a new toy. One of those kiddie aeroplanes, you know, the big chunk plastic kind, with the Duplo-type people in them with the round slots for them to sit in. To my five-year-old eyes, it was the most awesome toy I had ever seen. From that day on, whenever I went to Adam's, we would play airport; using bits of string to mark out our runway. Adam stood on a chair and played being the tower, telling the pilots (me) where to fly and when to land. It was my first real idea of how airports worked.

Plank Plane

One day, when I was about eight or nine, I was in the yard where my father was doing a clean up. My sister and I used to have a cubby house that he had made for us, but some of the timber was rotted so Dad had taken it down. I dragged over a plank then put another one crosswise. I found an old milk crate and a few little nails and bolts and things and I had my 'plane'. The next day I colored in some yellow stripes and stuck them on my shoulders, like Captain's epaulettes. Thinking of it now, it seems a little lame, but back then, it was as real to me as the planes that flew past my house every day. I even had thrilling adventures such as ocean ditchings and emergency landings (where I would strew everything all over the yard!)

The Bug Bites

On the 12th of March, 1994, I got my first real dose of flying. Our local (well, not exactly local, but the nearest) flying club had an open day, and my parents decided to take me. See, the main domestic/international airport here doesn't run recreational flying clubs. The city's other major airport, Jandakot, is the home of the RACWA. So that's where we went. I don't remember a lot about what went on, but I do remember that there were a lot of planes out on the grass between the runways. The Royal Flying Doctor Service had one of their aircraft out too, so people could see how they treated people on the way to the cities from remote areas. We gave them a donation. The RFDS is pretty much maintained by fundraising and contributions. It's a pretty vital service for a country as big as Australia, and you never know when you might need them.

Anyway, it was on this day I went for my first-ever plane flight. It was a Cessna 172, done up in the club colors of red and white. It was a cool little plane. Since it was a club event, they were doing 20-minute 'trial-flights' for about 20 bucks a pop. Pretty good, really. So my dad, not bothering to wait until I started begging to go, went over to the table and got me a seat. I even remember the rego number of the plane: VH-RWF - Romeo Whisky Foxtrot. I don't remember many details but I'll never forget when I heard the pilot tell me I had control. I already knew a fair bit about how all the control surfaces worked, and he'd shown me a few basic maneuvers. So, with his blessing, I took us into a slow, banking turn back towards the airport. I even got to do a few little up-down movements before the pilot took over again and landed us safely back on the ground. Then he took me over to the table where you booked and got a certificate from the lady there. He wrote my name and the date and now I have a certificate to keep!

Ansett and Air NZ

In 1996, my mother planned for us to go to New Zealand to visit our cousins and aunts and uncles. Unfortunately our trip came earlier than expected, due to a death in the family. All in all, it was pretty hectic, only having been about a month or two after my father passed away. I was really excited to be going on a 'big plane' at last, but also a little sad that Dad couldn't share it with me. It was an Ansett Australia Airbus A-320, and I got to visit the flight deck and meet the pilots. They were really nice and friendly, and the captain put his cap on my head while Mum took a picture. They even signed my book for me which was really neat. Last year when the airline collapsed, I thought about them and wondered what would happen to them.

The next flight we nearly missed since we were late coming in to Melbourne. Oh yeah, I got to sit in the jump seat for landing, I only just remembered coz there was a fire engine parked next to a Qantas plane and I wondered what had happened. Anyway, Mum, my sister and I ran down the corridors from the domestic terminal to the International, trying to find the right gate. We practically threw our passports at the customs guys, who were expecting us, and sprinted down the aerobridge, a la Home Alone, and only rounded the corner in just in time. Another second and we would have missed the flight, that's how close we were.

After that excitement, I got to visit the pilots on this flight as well. Mum had given me one of those wooden planes that sits on the airline boss's desk. She'd got it somewhere, and I have no idea why I took it to New Zealand with me. Oh, that's right, that one was on the way back. Oh well. The flight crew were really nice and didn't mind an eleven-year old kid poking around on their flight deck.

We had three more flights before we left New Zealand; down to Christchurch and back (didn't get to meet the pilots) and a scenic helicopter flight over Mt Cook. I got to meet that pilot, I got to sit in the front and wear the groovy headset thingie. On the way home the stewardess (oops, flight attendant, sorry) saw me carrying my plane and after lunch she asked me if I wanted to visit the flight deck. Stupid question. Of course I did. So I got to visit yet another crew which was great. We had to go up some stairs to get there, since we were on a 747, you know, the one with the little second level on it. Coolness.

And, would you believe it, when we got on the flight for the last leg of the trip, it was none other than our first friendly Ansett crew. They even remembered us. I guess it might have had something to do with the two large, fluffy teddy bears we had taken for our cousins. They had gone onboard with us as cabin baggage. The hostesses (sorry, flight attendants) had taken an instant fancy to them and given them the spare crew seats a few rows behind us. They even put Ansett baby bibs on them too!

So I got to re-visit the guys from the first flight over to Melbourne. It was great to see them again coz they remembered me. The captain loved my wooden plane. He said it was lucky it was an Air NZ livery on it not an Ansett otherwise it would probably have disappeared between Melbourne and home. The to cap off a really good trip, he let me sit in the cockpit for landing. There's a small fold-down seat (jump seat) which the captain can use at his discretion and invite someone to sit in for the landing. I got to wear a headset and listen to everything they said to the tower. There's nothing like seeing one's home city from the air.

Arriving Soon...

I hope to add my Flight Logs soon, including pictures from my latest trip.

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Call sign Regretta

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