A Morning in the Life of a Diesel 182 in the Sahel Lakeland!

04:28 I am wide awake, how is that possible the alarm is not due till 0430! Leap out of bed, shower, mango and mug of rooibos, drive, open hanger doors, pick up weather, passengers briefed. Under the calming effect of my noise cancelling Bose headset the throaty rumble of the diesel Cessna 182 is converted to a complex mix of sound the gentle clatter of a tractor with the hissing chatter of a sowing machine. I love tractors and the sound of a sowing machine brings childhood memories of mother sowing flooding back. So...

The diesel 182 is MAF's newest tool in our aviation toolbox. This airframe is a '79 so it's hardly new yet if you look up SMA's history (Societe de Motorisations Aeronautiques) you will find this engine is. It is one of the new generation of aircraft engines that use diesel technology but burn jet fuel (Jet-A1), the same stuff our turbine Caravan burns, as does your favorite Jumbo jet.  Jet fuel-paraffin/kerosene is cheap compared with Av-gas, more environmentally friendly, plentiful and a safer fuel. Plus this machine burns about 2/3rd of the fuel of the avgas powered version so fully fueled it can carry a bladder busting 9.5hrs of fuel at 110kts/hr that is a fair old speed & distance and because it goes in straight lines a lot more economical that your average Toyota or Land Rover bouncing circutous routes at 50kts below you!

The early morning Chadian air is delightful, warm, fragrant full of promise, imaginations of the tock of willow on leather flicker through ones mind as one ponders the prospect an ‘English summers day’ ahead of us, though I come mid-morning the Saharan sun has very different ideas. The colours are all ready washed out by the bright sun as we climb on track through 5000ft, the land to the left and right merge into a khaki haze. To my port is the Chari River, as it wends it's way towards Lake Chad, it makes a distinctive border with Cameroon and we are only a stones throw from Niger and Nigeria. Our two local passengers are delighted with the views on this short 80 mile, 45 minute hop, they work with Margareta a Swedish linguist who we are going to pick up from Bol.





Bol a small town that has a 800m asphalt strip on one of the many shores of Lake Chad. It is not long before the 'every shade of ochre' turns into the greens and blues of a beautiful spread of glittering waters. Such a contrast to the golden sand dunes 'a few miles away'. Whilst the Lake has receded dramatically in recent years, remember MAF started working here in a floatplane in the mid 60‘s! It was never that deep in parts and even now varies with the season, a couple of feet of water depth can make a huge difference to the area covered by water.

We skip onto the 800m asphalt strip in a cloud of sand as TT-BRT bounces into land and taxi to the little terminal where  Margareta our Swedish passenger is waiting for us, everyone seems pleased to see the aircraft arrive - I doubt it is a busy place! 
Camels, horses and donkies amble cross the airstrip on their way to and from town. Whilst there are trees and shrubs the lakes effect stops only metres from the shore line as a lot of the soil is silver sand. Margareta is so thankful for our aircraft and chats freely telling me stories about how the flying makes makes such a difference to her travels and she goes onto say that over the years it has saved the lives of a number  of people who she has managed to get flown out.  I think she would be worth chatting to as you feel she has many many tales of God’ providence to tell. 

                Some passing camels drift by to have a look at our ship of the desert. 

. 

                                                                                               Then we are off.

There is something about a river...

...two minutes under the tarpaulin and we realised that this was not the place to sit on a 40C+ day in southern Chad, what little breeze there was just was not man enough to penetrate the brick wall! So about 30 of us, all men from (Entente des Eglises et Mission Evangelique au Tchad) all decamped as one, to the cool of a gloriously shady mango tree, interestingly where the women where already sitting on their reed mats. This ancient umbrella was heavy with delicious fruit but sadly they were  still a week or two away from cropping. I sat listened to the conversation's in a language I just did not understand and then I heard it... at first almost imperceptible like a sigh on the wind and then oh so clear, the call, it was a clear unmistakable call from the river just a stones throw from where I sat. Slipping quietly from my seat I answered the call.

The cool river breeze was a delight, carrying the fragrances of life, a hint of smoke, a taste of gras and whiff of dust. There is really nothing like a river, even more so in a land locked nation, it is a place of remarkably diverse activity, just about all the activities of home carry on either by or on the river. I recently re-read Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame published some 105 years, and Ratty whilst chatting with Mole about his beloved river made this unforgettable quote "Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing -  absolutely  nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats." and all those in their canoes today looked like they were having fun. 

E.H. Shepherd  gave the words even more life, with his wonderful water colours. 

                                      

                                     http://www.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/bodley/whats-on/online/witw

... down by the river, near Lai, I was amazed at just how busy the river was, people washing dishes, fishing, playing in the water, cleaning their clothes, washing their hair, taking time for a medative 'loo' stop or just to watch the world go by... It was a place for the old and discarded to rust or rot quietly away or perhaps bide it's time till it was whisked away by the rising waters when the rains come, as soon they must.

Sadly this old timer's cross river days have come to an end.

This Chinese hurricane lamp is unlikely to light the way of a weary travellers journey home from the river 

Supper!

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.

Despatches from the desert at 12°6′N 15°2′E

...the door swings gently on it's worn hinge, touched by a morning zephyr, the hard earned heat flees from our mud brick hut into the cool dawn air, the fragrance of wood smoke wends its way into our sleeping bags, the scent of morning, a new day's dawn is upon us. African sunrises are glorious and the 

smokey dusk fires are a sure and certain clue that 'cooking is a foot'*, a cooking of the most delicious kind; fresh bread. Each morning our b'fast revolves around us men sitting cross-legged on a mat enjoying each others company, a bowl of hot sugared milk (with coffee) and a stack of freshly made crispy brown 'Tandori style' flat circular sour dough bread 'loaves' and this morning an invite had been extended to come, watch, smell taste and enjoy.

It was an honour to be invited into the outside kitchen to see the experts transform a soggy paste into a work of art. The women chattered laughing together whilst children looked on, no doubt apprentices in waiting. A hand full of fermented dough is taken out of a pot prepared a few hours earlier and with remarkable dexterity it is needed and spun into a dinner plate sized disc, which is then stuck to the wall of a very hot preheated fuel drum that is buried in the kitchen sand, embers from a fierce fire of date palms and scavenged wood glow happily in the bottom of the barrel, and when the drum lid is put in  place another fire is is kept alight on the lid as per the photo. Then experience kicks in as no oven timers can be seen, 7 minutes later with only one short look, the bread is ready - voila`. With care one is able keep all ones fingers to avoid the flashing knife scraping off some of the embers and sadly some of the crunchy bread and snitch a few pre-b'fast morsels and child hood memories flood back as one is reminded of how good fresh kitchen gleanings taste. 

Whilst looking at some goats nibbling at nothing in a wadi, a chance conversation, which I did not understand, with a passer-by resulted in a warm and friendly invitation to come and see his garden. It truly was a oasis in a dry and parched land, beautiful full of lettuce and other salad like vegetation. What I loved about Hassan was his total enthusiasm for what he was doing, which was linguistically incomprehensible yet totally understandable.

The secret apart from his passion for growing and hard work was the well. The desert waters were sitting, resting, waiting little more than 10 feet down and once the 'nodding donkey' brought them to the surface,  they took on a new life as the bucket of clear crisp cool water, gurgled it's way merrily down the channels to the various metre square garden beds, bringing refreshment and growth wherever they went.

Water and bread are the two physical things that will keep you alive in the desert. Interesting what the book written by John had to say on the subject, in John 7:37 Jesus says "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink.' and then in John 6:35 he said 'I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.'

There is a quote by Bear Grylls on the back of THE MANUAL (Bible notes for Men, available from Amazon) that says 'powerful personal and relevant - it has helped me alot to live my faith day by day.' that applies to the Manual as well as to John's writings.

* a vague allusion to Sherlock Holmes

Captivated by the brilliance of me?

...the fool says in his heart.

I have recently discovered that cycling may be the means by which I might keep the demands of flight medicals at bay!*

2013 started well with the loan of a swish mountain bike, from a friend who sadly went through a windscreen and is unable to use his machine but he writes great poetry (see Poet at Jayburn). In a moment of madness I thought I would have a lunchtime sprint from Home to L'Ancresse in the north of the Island almost 9 miles according to the  AA route planner and I reckoned 30m should do it at full tilt and the same back again, back within the hour, after all I would be warm and it was only 3 inches on the chart (aka map)!

Well I was quick, I was fast, such that I gave my self a bit of a fright going round one corner and was amazed how rapidly the miles on the coast road flashed by! I was thinking my training had really paid was off - tour de France here I come, boy was I good I reached my target plus 1 sec, very pleased with myself. So let's head back... 

On return looking misleadingly refreshed!

The wind, the wind it was wild, cold and strong, a real stiff headwind. I had to pedal like crazy just to get above walking pace. The wind on the nose makes a difference when you are flying but a heck of a difference when the only thing spinning is your legs on your bike, that journey took 55min and I took a short cut!

I had totally underestimated the distance, the wind strength and it's direction, my ability and the minor detail that I live at 365ft on the top of the Island and L'Ancresse is at sea level. I had been captivated by the brilliance of me... I was not that good after all I had had a stonking tail wind, all the way north that added nicely to my deception, plus I guess a slight downhill.

Funny how we can think we are better than we are, yet we sometimes think so little of God.  I think we would be pleasantly surprised if we thought more highly of God and the adventure open to us!

It reminded me that the only one I want to be captivated by is not me, but the King of Kings and Lord of Lords - My Captain - Jesus.

Malcolm Duncan wrote this great poem worth reading in its entirety, their is one stunning verse which he uses several times

I want to be a God gaizer ,

captured by the brilliance

that springs from the radiance of you

actually I wanted to tweak it slightly  

I want to be a God gaizer ,

captivated by the brilliance

that springs from the radiance of you

Next Blog with the usual should be from Chad...
*As an aside I started cycling in  april before the Olympics and cycling 'madness' struck Britain. Though of the billions who watched this event sadly I missed all the excitement, as my encounter with the visual Olympics revolved around 45mins of women's football and some discus all in Arabic at a neighbours! However I did 'watch it' via BBC texts which came every 2-3 mins took something of the excitiment away during the 100m sprint for example!

A new day dawns, time for a pre-flight

The light from the milky way was glorious, one could almost read by the brightness of the stellar lights, the air was cooling rapidly and starting to get chilly,  as I pulled the sheet around my neck.  Lying in my mosquito tent (to protect from scorpions and other things) looking upwards through the gauze counting the uncountable.  The gentle whisper & rustle of the desert winds through the date palms was a soothing lullaby...

Twilight was upon me as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, stretched, remembered where I was and sat up. The cool of the brand new day is truly wonderful in Africa.  I fumble with the zip on the canopy, check carefully that my flying boots were empty of any little visitors, in the dull morning light. Shave and freshen up, already the dawn's golden sun is lighting up the skyline. I took a short walk,  then saw if there was a cup of tea ready, as I could hear chatter, coughs and woodsmoke wafted across the little dirt courtyard, I was ready for the day. Well almost...

Already the morning air is warming up fast, it's a turbulent trip weaving around rocky outcrops on the moonscape before a wild ride over the yellow desert sands, as we head out to the aircraft which I had abandoned into the hands of some soldiers camped up for the night in the Sahara.

WATCH

The pre-flight is essential  when you have a days flying ahead of you, even more so when the days work is going to take you over mountains, surely some of the roughest terrain in the world. You need to know the aircraft is at it's best, that all is well and it is ready for the day ahead.  So electrics, fuel oil, integrity of the aircraft structure are all checked at and all the bits of aircraft that should move - do, and those that shouldn't - don't.

Before I head out to the airstrip though I do need to do my own personal pre-flight yup teeth cleaned, hair combed well what is left of it and visit to the restroom/loo/hole in the ground. Then despite at times the temptation to skip it and press on, I take a short time out to collect my thoughts together. This I do in conjunction with 'The Manual', a compact book that I have found really useful and enjoyable (available from CVM or Amazon), it has a short undated thought for the day, a simple prayer and it's just part of my pre-flight. 

I also keep a 'moleskin' journal that I jot down any thoughts that might be worth returning to at a later date, along with the Manual, I have a nifty little Gideon's New Testament. Essential tools for any man* to have in his flight bag, along with my charts and other other useful stuff.

So trust you enjoyed todays blog, travel well.

* or woman, you may want to find a different set of thoughts for the day

Engineers are remarkable people!

    WATCH      

‘How can a young man keep his way pure? By guarding it according to your word. With my whole heart I seek you let me not wander from your commandments! I have stored up your word in my heart that I might not sin against you.’ Psalm 119:9-11 (ESV) 

The Manual Part 1, is 60 thoughts most written by Carl Beech but here is one of mine which fits well with Kees interview. Thought for the day Number 21 of 60.

MAF pilots, have a great working relationship with our engineers! On a recent operational assignment covering a crew shortage in Uganda the Chief Engineer showed me some cracks, he had found on two tiny little compressor blades from the turbine of one of our large single engine Cessna 208 Caravans. Almost impossible to see with the naked eye, and if the component had failed almost certainly catastrophic to the engine and not great news for the rest of the flight!

Ignorance can appear to be bliss; if the cracks had not been spotted I would have continued hauling passengers and cargo into and out of rough, short bush airstrips, in South Sudan and Eastern Congo, ‘blissfully unaware’ that these tiny cracks, which had developed slowly over time were there. Their presence meant the engine might failed just when I needed it’s maximum performance.

As soon as the engineer knew there were cracked blades in the engine - his inspections are designed to hunt down such things, the aircraft had to be grounded, as he knew what these tiny cracks were capable of causing. I could have protested and said ‘the aircraft is needed for another urgent flight, MAF could not afford the repair.’ Perhaps I could have tried to persuade him,  ‘come on, fix it later, after all the cracks are only on a couple of blades, the rest are perfect.’

No, only a fool would ignore the promptings of a Chief Engineer! It is amazing how we sometimes fail to sort out cracks in our lives, even after they have been shown to us, so advice for today is ground yourself and get them sorted, it may be ‘expensive’ and uncomfortable but if we want to be a disciple of the King you owe it to yourself and those around you to be fully operational, so you are always ready to give of your best when the time is needed.

Prayer: Lord please reveal to me an area in my life that is failing.  Let me be brave enough to get it sorted out with Your guidance and help. Amen

AVAILABLE from CVM or AMAZON. In fact there are now 4 books in the series all recently written and launched!

Father Christmas explains why he flies with MAF in the off season

You may well have read this blog earlier in the year, it seems only 66 of you did so I felt it was worthy of a release at a more seasonal time.

Greasing a sled onto a steeply pitched roof top with 35kts of cross wind, at night, in driving snow would make even Biggles blanche but it  is all part of one evenings work for this man commonly called Father Christmas, St Nick or Santa Claus by his friends and followers. But what about the 'day job'? I had often wondered what it was that  he did during the other 364 days of the year. Some would say he spent his time  repairing and making new toys, others until they saw these remarkable photo's suggested that he spent time at his local Greenlandic Health spa, not so, whilst he looks pretty trim and sprightly for a man of his years, he assured me that it was the cut of his shirt and the sky blue that has always made him look thin. 

Well what about the day job? Here is the answer...

It was over a year ago that I met what I consider must surely be the world's most experienced pilot ever, this bush pilot extrordinaire then it was in an undisclosed part of Africa. So it was to my amazement that I have for the 2nd time met my child hood hero, only this time in an environment even more bizarre, one of  Harmittan's, dust storms, heat, rainy seasons that even Noah would have enjoyed and scorching sun that will boil an egg before you can say 'Bob's your Uncle! Well this world is all part of FC's day time employment. 

'So you work for MAF,' I asked, 'Sure do, Mission Aviation Fellowship, greatest flying job in the world,' his voice roared back at me, eyes grinned with a sparkle from under bushy eyebrows, his weather beaten bronzed skin, all seemed at odds with his some what full snowy white beard! "Well we fly these small aircraft, there are about 135 of them, based in over 30 different countries, each able to bring help hope and healing to some of the remotest communities  in the world, we partner with lots of organsations and it is great getting to know some remarkable people and supporting them in their work. Sometimes it feels like Christmas Eve every day." he laughed loud and long as if this comment touched a memory. 

Rat traps, a US$145 T shirt and a slightly shortened runway. All in a days work?

A couple of days ago I bought a little clay charcoal stove from the lady above and I paid her her asking price, the sum of 46 pence ($0.80) This morning I was in our office in Kampala and the conversation revolved around the fall of Goma and overnight events in Bunia and our response to them. On monday the group of boys below were laughing with delight showing me how their rat traps worked, they were rather nifty little things not unlike mini bows and yet had the power to re-arrange the hairstyle or worse of any passing critter of the short and furry kind!

I am sitting across from the Emporio Armani Shop at Dubai International, heading back to the UK for a family funeral. Dubai shops are so so busy, even at 2 in the morning, folk are shopping like there is no tomorrow and I do wonder how all those overhead baggage bins are going to contain their purchases! Just thinking 300 mad shoppers on a 777 that could be another couple of tons of stuff - wonder if they include it in the weight and balance! Even with 327, 000 commercial aircraft movements last year this is still only the 11th busiest passenger airport (6th Cargo) in the world according to Wikapedia. Still however nicely made Armani clothing is US$145 for a t-shirt does seem a tad on the steep side, though in fairness it does have a beautifully made name tag?

Had a great choice of shoes at the friday market on Makindye Hill I think if I so wished I could have bought all 40 pairs for about 40 US$

Kotido probably gets 3 flights a week when busy and as a result it lacks a little TLC. The airstrip was moved from the centre of the small town to it's present position perhaps 7 years ago and whilst it has a nice set of fence posts concreted into the red soil,  the wire that joins them has long since gone, in  actual fact I think it went AWOL a few weeks after installation.  Well the 1500m dirt strip is now more like 1000m as a rather nasty hole has appeared on the runway, it seems to have been part filled in but it would even now be more than happy to re-arrange the nose wheel or prop given half a chance. It is on top of a culvert which runs across the width and under the airstrip, so we are not so sure what is happening there yet! So the culvert marks the end of the runway now.

A young woman travelling business class was asked to leave our flight before we could take off, I have no idea what it was about but matoke (Ugandan's favourite food- see right), drink, pride, bad temper and the confiscation of something special may or may not have been involved but either way the consequence of a good protracted rant was expensive!

The world is so full of contrasts, and values and things of importance change with ones Geography. It can be difficult to make sense of it all and I guess that is where faith can give balance to life's dilema's

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!

Jim's Film, Jim Le Huray Bush Pilot, just the thing to inspire little people into the world of aviation!

There is nothing, absolutly nothing quite like the whine of a PT-6 turbine coming to life, propellor spooling up,  a whiff of turbine fuel & exhaust carried through the vents, a couple of Ugandan Cranes (national bird) pause their courtship as the prop noise distracts them but for a moment. My eyes are fixed on engine instruments, poised to disable the start-up if all is not well but all is well...So let's go fly. I'm Jim Le Huray Bush Pilot.

Why not share my tweaked version of Jim Le Huray Bush Pilot to some of the young people you know. It might help inspire them to become the Bush Pilots, Engineers, Managers, Learning Technology and IT staff of the future for MAF or for many of the other amazing flying and mission organisations operating around the world.
So why not give them a glimpse of my world.  

I  have been flying in Uganda and working alongside the MAF Congo programe as well as flying into South Sudan, as well as in Chad since I joined MAF at the start of 2011. I am one of the newer MAF pilots and certainly the lightest. I am based in the Island of Guernsey (land of the Guernsey Cow and the book Guernsey Literary and Potatoe Peel Society) and I generally end up flying alongside another MAF pilot Capt Bryan Pill. 

I am very popular pilot  mainly as I only weigh about 3kg so there is room for an extra 80kg on any flight that I fly!'

So if you want to know more about MAF whay not E -mail me on jim.lehuray@maf.org

This is  a lovely story Fred van Gorkum told me.
Alas I call Fred, Frank!
                                              .