A Desert Hope

I thought I would ask the Poet at Jaybern to write poem about the desert and this is what he wrote, what do you think?

The golden sun glares down

sapphire skies stretch to the horizon.

Heat shimmers like waves

over the barren landscape.

Yet nothing moves.

Barren land lies tortured,

its surface cracked and split.

Each shattered fragment

crumbles at its edges.

Barren and crumbled.

The occasional withered stick

or sun bleached carcase

break the monotony

of the shimmering surface. 

This is a forgotten land.

Here in the midst of nothingness,

shattered, desperate souls live,

in a shattered desperate land.

Yet this stretch is set apart.

Here in the middle of nowhere

three tracks appear.

Unlike all other tracks;

these do not pass through,

they simply exist.

Three straight lines

scored on the barren land,

a trinity.

The tyre tracks bring

hope, help and healing,

doctors, teachers, and relief staff bring skills

and the materials for a better life,

but more important; MAF aircraft*

represent the coming of the message.

The tracks herald news,

great news.

John Carré Buchanan

22 February 2013

MAF stands for Mission Aviation Fellowship a charity which loves to bring help, hope and healing to remote people in remote communities, using small aircraft.
The photo's were taken by Biggles Abroad recently...

The Final desert despatch... Harmattan Season

A couple of weeks ago I was taking a team to a quiet part of Chad, one of the remoter parts of the world we fly into, my passengers included a couple of dentists with their kit, who would be rare visitors in this most beautiful part of this remarkable nation.  Much of Chad is covered by the most the most splendid golden sands, filling horizons as far as the eye can see, and some of the mountains could be scenery usually only found on Mars! Most of the time the dry air provides skies that are so clear you can see forever especial in the higher grounds.

Here we are giving some soldiers a lift into town from the airstrip

Pre-dawn tow down to the main apron to file flight plans,
 pick up weather and find any passengers

... but it was very different arriving early in the morning at our hanger in N'Djamena to pre-flight the aircraft and get it ready for it's day's work, at a time I might add when any truly sensible bird would be pondering if it was worth throwing off the sheets and popping out for a quick worm or in this neck of the woods, lizard! Driving through pre-dawn N'Djamena is like driving trhough a ghost town.

Visibility was down to 1500m due to sand and dust suspended in the air which whilst not the end of the world in my well equipped aircraft at an International Airport like the one here,  after all I could land if needed in only 700m visibility; though I would need 1200m to depart! However it is very different operating into simple airstrips in remote areas where weather reports are not so easy to come by and of course it is worth remembering that weather can get better, but it can also get worse on any given day! So you need much better visibility than this if you are going to head out  into the wild blue (or Khaki)  yonder and it did not look great enroute, at my destination or the airfield I would need to divert to if I could not land at my destination, a mere 1hr 50 flying time from where I was trying to get to!  All in all translating pilot speak into English, 'Time for coffee as we are remaining secure on terra firma for the day', as after all this is Haramattan season.*

The sky was a beautiful blue, the air temp slightly on the warm side of 42C, my aircraft's bright orange high viz paint scheme (standard issue for all aircraft based in Greenland, as it once was) contrasted beautifully with the silvery sand pouring along the airstrip in the fierce breeze, like staring into a hair dryer on full blast. Then on the edge of the sandy airstrip you could see it, a white wall tumbling down the runway, then the sandblast hit, one turned ones back into the sharp probing sand needles as the silver white cloud enveloped one, the silicon fog gave all and sundry a good shaking before it was gone in an angry cloud of dust, off to cause havoc to all who got in it's way. A couple more of it's friends gusted in but the patient that I was evacuating to N'Djamena after a car accident, arrived with an escort of soldiers and vehicles between 'visits', so I soon had him strapped into the stretcher and ready to go.  As I taxied the aircraft to my departure point I kicked up my own dust wall but needed little of the sand covered airstrip as I headed into the turbulent heat seared air, climbing bouncingly over the desert dunes to head the short trip back to the Capitol. It is Harmattan season.

This photo is the start of the wall of sand crossing the end of the airstrip  and actually looks quite harmless!

*Wikipedia on the Harmattan winds. In some countries in West Africa, the heavy amount of dust in the air can severely limit visibility and block the sun for several days,comparable to a heavy fog.It can even break the trunk of the pine trees, growing in that region, through their dryness. The effect caused by the dust and sand stirred by these winds is known as the Harmattan haze, which costs airlines millions of dollars in cancelled and diverted flights each year and risks public health by increasing meningitis cases.The interaction of the Harmattan with monsoon winds can cause  tornadoes. Humidity drops to as low as 15 percent and can result in spontaneous nosebleeds for some. The wind can cause severe crop damage.

The Final despatch from 12°6′N 15°2′E.

Well my next assignment is back to Uganda at the week-end. So I thought I would get my Final Despatch from 12°6′N 15°2′E, aka N'djamena in Chad, down onto paper. 

Here in Guernsey we are having our runway re-surfaced and I guess they may being doing a few other things to the tune of £80+million and in Alderney there is debate about whether to keep their grass runway operational - my answer is; when there are minimal sea links the answer this is a no brainer, keep it open!

In MAF we have some interesting rwy surfaces! Actually before landing we run through a little mnemonic. 

WIND LASSO

Wind direction, strength. Is it gusty, what about the x-wind, tailwind.

Length - but can you use it all? Any new ant hills, heavy rain, unexpected pond on left side, can all
               shorten it and make it seem some what shorter thn the last time you came!

Altitude - If it is hotter than 'normal' it's as if the airstrip is now higher than it was and therefore you 
               need more rwy. So a cold morning arrival can mean the airstrip seems to have shrunk 
               somewhat when it comes to a noon departure at 45C!

Surface - dry season nice.  Wet season, soggy, slippery and unusable! Watch out black cotton soil can 

              catch out the unwarry, as it has a crust that you can break through. Is the sand carved up by
              big aircraft bad news!

Slope - are you landing up hill, down hill or with gentle side slope?

Obstacles - In the tropic things grow ever so fast, holes appear - caused by wart hogs, ants, termites. 

              There may be some animals crossing, thinking of crossing and those who are not thinking 

              about crossing but will anyway!

Rather nice Congo airstrip

Don't assume, check it out. Not a bad attitude to life really.

Here sand is the surface of choice and the golden vista can make even finding the airstrip tricky and after a few heavy lift transports have been in and out the surface resembles a soft beach and great care must be taken ideally to find the firm stuff and not to come to a halt on the soft sand as hauling it the out, is really hard work. Here I am pulling the aircraft, off the strip onto a harder rocky surface for overnight parking. 

In the south the rains have been very good and grass is appearing all over the place. After rain the top cm can be very slick and can involve quite alot of dancing on the rudder pedals to hold the aircraft in a straight line when landing. Even areas that are rarely green this have a verdant tinge and rivers start to flow and over flow making drivable tracks and roads unpassable, cutting off communities. 

The rains keeps the frangipani, donkies and crimson breasted bee-eaters happy though!

Sand causes some wear and tear on the paint work and here the Caravan is getting a check out. Note the oil cooler on the left. The rains keep the aircraft clean!

A whisper in the sand

I do love words and whilst neither a writer or a poet on paper, perhaps I am both at heart.

 Poet at Jayburn inspired me to put a few words tentatively down - down tentatively.  

It does seem that sometimes you can make words spin, turn dance and sing, so they create an image, painted in such a way that perhaps it is only yours to see. 

                  Worn out...   

         they rest on Faya's sands, 

scorched by the silent sun, 

squint under azure skies. 

Weary feet,

search for refreshment in the season of the rain? 

Little chance!
 Sweat dries before it wets.
The cloudless blue above an aurum carpet below, 
so rich in a one off colour that lay beneath the sole.

  Rocky outcrops stand aloof, proud guardians of the silence.  

Broken only by the abrasive whisper of sand upon sand, 
it swirls around rocky outcrops,
 like children playing chase, 
kiss me, 
catch me, ssssssss, 

it quietly covers their footprints in the sand.  

A few reports from 12°6′N 15°2′E. Mentioned in dispatches No 2

Here are a few more notes from my knee board from my last flying assignment in Chad. It was my 9th assignment there but my first time during the rainy season and this year it seemed to be a really wet one.

Incredible, after several hundred miles of desert I spot some 8000ft below me fresh water,  no plant life visible. Amazing!

I land in Faya Largeau, a desert out post, an oasis of greens and golden roads, it has an old and very large tarmac runway built by the military once upon a time, laid forever on the on desert lands. The French military occupy an amazing fort that looks like a Beau Geste film set, with the possibility of Gary Cooper about to enter screen right at any moment!  The deserts sands are so so beautiful, so soft and the aureolus grains tumble through the fingers like water. The date palms know where the life giving water  is and it is they that have helped establish this rocky green Island in the desert ocean where the crystal clear liquid freely breaks through to the surface providing a safe haven for all and sundry from the crippling effects of the fierce sun but the sandy tide is eager to swamp and engulf the town. Probably half the buildings are already submerged under tons of sand and many a 30ft palm has only the top 15ft showing! The old prison, guillotine block stands as a reminder of days past, I reluctantly use this old photo of myself in 2007 below (all the rest are from a few months ago) but the arch  makes the point rather well ...

In another oasis we find some amazing carvings on the sandstone showing Ostriches, cattle, elephants and a Cheetah. Just below FC's hand. None of which can be found probably within over 400 miles of here. The desert has claimed much territory for it's own. As an aside there  is a story about the bearded bod, so you best see slightly earlier blogg.

Gateau de Semoule, Salmon riz legumes and Tajine d'agneau, the french military rations are tres bon. Cooking a Le Bistro meal under the milky way in Simon and Anju's small rough court-yard was alot of fun. These are two amazing young Swiss folk who are running a langauge centre just down the road from Le bistro! A mere 6 nights & 7 days drive from the capital or about 1700km, though only 5 hours by Caravan, when I say Caravan I mean 208 rather than Camel!

Their job description must be very varied as we 
brought up a simple but rather clever life saving 
device that passes an electric current through a snake
or scorpion bite. Here Simon is treating a delightful 
localman who was stung by a scorpion that he had 
thought was a mouse! These guys are incredibly 
tough by  our standards and so to say this sting 
hurts is an understatement. The treatment made a 
dramatic  difference and it was the fourth person in 
the one week they had had the device that 
they had treated. The sting often reduces people to 
unconscious and in Faya will often kill their victims.

Flew some folk down to Moundu and overnighted at the TEAM Guest House. Went into a shop in that was quite well stocked, to look for supper,  though if you count the number of actual different items available it is food for thought.
It reminded me of a previous trip in Chad when I had an unexpected night stop and I was able to buy a 1.5 litre bottle of water and a pack of sour cream pringles for my evening meal, a balanced diet!

David Ott 

Here is one of our smaller pilots Jim Le Huray with David, his wife a medical Dr and small girls and their home school teacher and a nurse. They have work for Cooperation Service International have been in Ati 4 years. They are typical of the sort of people we fly, enthusiastic warm hearted and eager to make a difference to the people they work alongside. Rather like this quote David made “MAF has been a huge blessing to us, it’s been a life line to our work out here. Especially during the rains when they are the only way to get food and medicine and to get us in and out of our home and for work, we are thankful for the partnership. We have worked with about 6 different pilots over this period and just want to thank-you as they have been a huge blessing to our work both professionally and personally”

Whilst waiting for the weather to clear in N'djamena I had a chance to do a spot of weeding! I have pounded grain, dug ditches, shot bows and arrows, seldom can one call 'Flying for Life' with MAF dull! 

It was hot, the ground was thirsty despite the rain, the people grinned. Mother seemed happy to have 5 mins break as I snapped the weeds and we laughed together. For me it was fun and a photo, for them it was a lively hood and a full stomach. 

A few reports from 12°6′N 15°2′E. Mentioned in dispatches 1.

Over the next couple of weeks I thought I would blogg a few notes that I jotted on my kneeboard somewhere within 500nm of 12°6′N 15°2′E the capitol of Chad N'djamena. 

It is hard to imagine that when I was here in April I was frying in the day time and simmering at night. One dreamt of cool breezes & cooling rains. 
Now the rainy season is upon us flash follows flash, like a mighty artillery barrage, truly spectacular, as the skies open fire followed by the thunderous explosions of battered clouds overhead, reverberating off the tin rooves and the MAF compound is awash in the deluge. Another  wave of flashes illuminate the compound, trees thrash in the winds, a stack of small branches break off crackling like pistol fire as they are hurled to the ground...
Parts of the country in the south are cut off as roads become impassable and MAF comes into it's own. 

Decided to skip the instrument approach that I was planning, as the storm whilst seemingly far off when it seemed a good idea, was moving in very fast. If I do not switch to a visual approach I will be extremely lucky to complete a full instrument procedure  before the rather solid looking lump of water  hits the airfield. So wisdom says beat the rain and get on the ground fast. The storm is steaming relentlessly onward like a huge battlecruiser, N'djamena bound. The curtain of water is at first transparent, very quickly builds up fold on fold of white, grey, greyer then blackly impenetrable, a solid wall of water.

Pushing, shoving, pulling, squishing the freight is finally  in, it  is hot work in what is quite a humid day. I seem to be getting quite adept at fitting a quart into a pint pot, still I guess as I have flown with MAF now for 20 years that is to be expected. Only 8 passengers  today but I am saving them perhaps a 10-14 day road trip if they were to go by public transport. Mother & 7 children weighing in at a somewhat feather like 250kg, which is exactly the same weight as the freight, and whilst I could have put 100kg more on board the only place left for anything is on my lap! Every cubic inch is taken up, as there seems to be rather a lot of mattresses board, as well as some essential supplies for the work up north, so we are  as they say well and truly full up to the gunnels.

Heading for Bardi (kind of near Aozou on the map above) with the family of one of Mark's co-worker's. Mark had taken only 7 days 6 nights to drive the 1700km steaming across the desert to hit reach their destination, a mere 5hours for me, though a leg stretch and refuelling at Faya Largeau will mean we'll make it for a late lunch. Think he'll be happy, along with his team, to catch the flight back.

Sitting on the sand at Faya, resting in the sun, under azure skies, rainy season? Seemingly little chance here a cloudless sky, a golden carpet lay, before me  rocky outcrops stand aloof, guardians of the silence, broken only by the abrasive whisper of sand upon sand, as it swirls around rocky outcrops like children playing chase, barely leaving their footprints in the sand.  

The race is on! I am cleared for start up by the Tower but a couple of French Military Mirages have already gained the upper hand by dashing onto the runway ahead of me and before you know it, they  crisp the air into submission as they launch, tail pipes aglow as they roar skward. Alas that delay makes it to late for me, the clouds sliding in rapidly, the blue skies vanish, the cloud ceiling comes lower and lower and the bright morning turns to gloom, the wind picks up knot by knot, second by second. The skies have darkened as the jets crackle into the distance making their noisy and rapid escape, the race is lost and the door of escape has well and truly shut for me, as the first drops bounce on the faded apron. Control locks go into place, extra chocks under the wheels, hatches battened down,  sunglasses back in their case. My wife and a Dr, passengers for the two hour flight to Am Timan in the south East along with a mound of freight are boarded and tied down respectively! The storm hits with total enthusiam... 
Am Timan is a  small town is already pretty cut off by the rains, one of the quirks is the stack of huge 'mines' guarded in an out building just where we park!the aircraft. We wait it out for 90 minutes passengers lulled gently to sleep by the rocking slush of rain on tarmac, the rainy season in a dry and desert land!