Now this may be a bit hard to fathom but through chance
and circumstance, a large, stuffed Snow Tiger led me to
fly a 767 under the Sydney Harbour Bridge! True!
It was in the late 90's and I was an executive with a
large engineering company. This meant I did regular trips
around Australia and occasionally overseas. Frequent flyer
points mounted up and I ended up managing the company
tender for our airline account.
After an interesting tender period, the winner was declared
as Ansett and we all had to change our frequent flyer
programme from Qantas, much to the disgruntled complaints
from many of the managers!
But Ansett had produced a much better offer and I must
admit that they did look after us very well - before they
went broke!
Through my negotiations with Ansett, I had got to know
some of the local Ansett Sydney managers well, and this
was to benefit me later on.
One day I was due to go to Canberra for a meeting and
had decided to fly down. As I approached the departure
lounge to board the 737 I noticed a rather large woman,
holding a very large, stuffed Snow Tiger toy. It was difficult
to avoid noticing this outsized combination!
I boarded, towards the end of the queue, and as I made
my way down the aisle I looked ahead for my seat, and
just about where I reckoned my row was, I saw the Snow
Tiger in the window seat.
A quick glance at my ticket confirmed it was the same
row and I had the 'B' or centre seat!
Unfortunately the lady with the Snow Tiger was extremely
large, in fact, without being cruel, we could refer to
her as being LGW (Large Gross Weight). So much so that
she had raised the arm rest between her seat and mine,
and it was now hidden behind her shoulder, as she took
up her own window seat and a fair portion of mine.
The passenger in the aisle seat was a thin built man,
who had obviously worked out the situation, and was bringing
his entire weight to bear on the arm rest between his
seat and mine. Ensuring that his seat was his castle,
and I would not be able to squeeze him out of position.
Now, just to add to the problem, I'm not a small bloke
either, and whilst I do fit into an airline seat, there's
not a lot of room left over for anyone else to share it.
I looked at the small amount of my seat left in view,
the Snow Tiger, the thin man camped on the armrest, and
decided this was just not going to work.
Getting the attention of one of the attendants I said
'It's a bit embarrassing but this is just not going to
work."
Unfortunately the flight was absolutely chokers and the
attendant couldn't offer me any other seat.
I literally squeezed my way into the remnant of my seat
and was squashed by the LGW Pax thigh down one side, the
Snow Tiger in my face and the welded arm rest on the other.
No escape.
As we started to taxi the attendant came back and said
there was one seat beside her in the back row but I had
to wait until we had taken off before I could move.
It was getting extremely uncomfortable and by the time
the wheels lifted off I was in some pain. The wheels were
no sooner tucked up and I was out the seat like a cork
from a champagne bottle. She hadn't said wait until the
lights were off!
I settled down in the back row and just to add insult
to injury Canberra was fogged in. After three abortive
attempts at landing we mooched about for a while longer,
then flew back to Sydney. So much for my day in Canberra.
This episode led me to send my friendly Ansett manager,
Bronwyn, a letter.
Now I know it's impossible to ask people their weight
and personal statistics when they book a flight, but I
reckoned the attendants and gate crew could be trained
in how to deal with LGW Pax, who could obviously not fit
into a standard seat.
I proposed some thoughts on what could be done, and helpfully
suggested that at the top of the jetway, beside the bag
'gauge', they could install a 'bum gauge'. LGW Pax could
reverse their rear ends into, and if they didn't fit,
they could buy a second seat, or upgrade to the larger
Business Class seats, rather than deprive another fare
paying pax of their seat.
My friendly Ansett manager acknowledged my letter and
told me that whilst giving them a good laugh, they appreciated
the sentiment and would include it with their future training.
They didn't take up the suggestion about the 'bum gauge'
though.
Nothing more was thought about this until one day I received
a phone call out of the blue. More apologies and thanks
were issued about the Snow Tiger incident, "and would
you like a trip to Melbourne to fly in the Ansett 767
simulator?"
Would I what! This was the chance of a lifetime and I
accepted immediately. I was told that they had no idea
when it might happen, and indeed it might never happen
but if it did, it would be a last minute event, and I'd
have to be ready to go at short notice. I agreed.
Time moved on until about a year later when I got another
phone call late on a Friday afternoon. "Can you go
to Melbourne on Tuesday morning for a flight in the 767
sim?"
I assured her that this was entirely possible, and I was
waiting with a little group of other Ansett clients at
Sydney airport on the Tuesday morning as agreed.
A quick trip down to Melbourne was followed by a taxi
trip to Tullamarine and the Ansett training simulator
complex.
There were about 10 of us and we were split into two groups
for a tour of the facility. There were several simulators
in the centre, including, from memory, a 767, 737, Bae146
and Saab 340.
We were shown around and could see the simulators in action
as they moved and lurched about on their pneumatic rams.
These babies cost over $20 million each and worked 24/7
with minimal down time. Ansett-trained aircrew from different
airlines from all over the world and there was little,
if any, time when they were not earning a dollar. That's
why it had taken a year for us to get a slot on the sim.
They are the ultimate computer game.
The tour was very interesting but I couldn't wait to get
inside one!
Eventually we were shepherded into the rear of the 767
simulator and had a look around. The front section is
100% realistic and the only difference came behind the
pilots seats where there were some additional crew-standard
seats, installed for observers and others.
Our Captain asked what flying experience we had and my
patchy record as a glider pilot and some hours in light
aircraft won me the right hand seat. I wasn't going to
refuse!
Settling into the seat and fastening the straps I looked
out the flight deck window and was amazed at the graphics.
Now this was the late 90's and the graphics on this sim
were 'low-light' rather than today's full colour version.
However it was a dusk-like light rather than a full night
light and it was possible to make out buildings, and cars
moving about with their headlights on.
For our first flight we were in Melbourne and took off
for a flight over the city. The feeling is completely,
100%, realistic and your brain is fully convinced you
are flying.
The engine noise is real, the motion is real and the graphics
are real. You're flying!
The Captain flew us over Melbourne and did a simulated
engine-out drill. It was amazing but it flew, without
any seeming difficulty, on one fan and we turned around
and landed at Melbourne airport without any drama.
After landing, with reverse thrust effects and appropriate
noise, the Captain asked us what we would like to do next.
One of our back seat boys asked 'Can we fly under the
Sydney Harbour Bridge?' We all laughed and the Captain
added that 'Well, it's not on our normal training run!"
However, he thought about it a bit longer and then decided
we could give it a go. He had never tried it either and
it wasn't something you would do while training a proper
crew after all.
A couple of keys were pushed on the computer and the next
second we are sitting at the end of 34L at Sydney airport,
looking north at the city lights and buildings in the
distance, with our engines spooling up.
We talked about the 'flight plan' for a few seconds, and
before I knew it, we were thundering down the runway towards
the city. The Captain got us airborne then handed control
to me.
The feel was very positive and light. When in the central,
neutral position the column felt that it was in a small,
'divot' and required just a little pressure to move it
out of 'neutral' and into action. If you let go it would
spring back to neutral.
We now had a clear view of the city and Harbour and I
swung us right and headed for the Watsons Bay/Rose Bay
end of the harbour. Having spent many days racing sailboats
on the Harbour, I was very familiar with the landmarks
and thought I could navigate up and around Bradleys Head
without to many problems.
The Captain was working the throttles as I brought the
767 lower and started a swing to the left to bring us
over Rose Bay and onto a heading up the Harbour towards
the Bridge. The Bridge was clearly visible in the twilight,
with the city buildings to the left and North Sydney to
the right.
We were down to 200 feet on the digital altimeter as we
crossed from the land to the Harbour and the alarms and
klaxons were going absolutely nuts. There was also a mechanical,
female sounding voice declaring, 'Terrain, terrain, pull
up, pull up.' Some other alarm was going off and the Captain
was going flat out to override them all but they kept
going off.
"Better get down to 100 feet", he said as we
hurtled up the Harbour. There is a centre indicator on
the Bridge, for use of ships, and I was using this as
my aiming point. It was coming up fast and the Captain
said, "Get down to fifty feet."
I gently nudged the column forward a couple of times,
keeping my eyes locked on the digital altimeter and levelled
off at 48 feet.
By now the Bridge was quickly filling the windscreen and
my pulse was going off the scale.
We flashed underneath, the Captain opened the throttles
and I pulled up into a massive climbing wingover that
took us to the left. It felt like a Spitfire, and after
a few seconds I had us pointing in a southerly direction
somewhere to the west of Darling Harbour.
"Right, let's try and land this thing" was the
next instruction.
I could see the airport almost straight ahead of us but
I was way too high for the glide path.
"You've got to get us down and quick" was my
next instruction.
So we turned from Spitfire to Stuka. I slammed the column
forward and was rewarded with a thud into the straps and
a chorus of the klaxons, alarms and the female voice warning
about attitude, altitude and terrain. She had a lot to
say!
Amazingly the column was shaking like crazy and I had
to lock out both elbows to try and prevent it from coming
back to neutral.
By now no doubt, any passengers would have lost their
lunch and the engines were screaming as we continued to
dive. The force on the column was absolutely tremendous
and it was a huge effort to keep the nose down.
The approach lights could now be seen and I quickly pulled
out of the dive and managed to settle on the glide path
just in time. The Captain was dropping flaps and managing
the throttles and I could see the cars moving back and
forward along Qantas Drive in front of me as I lined up
on runway 16R. I kept to the glide path and crossed the
fence with the Captain closing the throttles.
We sank and sank towards the tarmac and at the last minute
I flared, about three seconds to early! We floated up
without touching ground and I let it sink again before
pulling her up again about two feet before touch down!
By now I was floating down the runway, and getting closer
and closer to Botany Bay.
"Get it down" was the very clear instruction
from the left hand seat. I didn't need telling again,
and this time nailed it to the deck.
The whole plane shook, we hammered on the brakes and we
were thrust forward as full reverse thrust was applied.
We continued to shudder down the runway, engines roaring
and by the time we came to a halt we had at least two
or three hundred metres before we went off the end into
Botany Bay. Heaps of room!
The engines spooled down and we all looked at each other
before bursting into laughter. What a ride!
Eventually I clambered out of the seat and found that
my legs were trembling and the adrenaline was still coursing
through my veins. My shirt was glued to my back and I
was absolutely stunned at the effort I had used.
It literally took my ten minutes to regain control of
myself. It was amazing.
We all had a great laugh about it and later I managed
to calculate that with 48 feet below me and a height of
about 96 feet, we would have had more than 50 feet above
the tail when we flashed under the Bridge. Easy!
Later that afternoon we made our way back to Sydney, in
a rather more sedate fashion, in the back of an Ansett
767. As we flew into Sydney from the north, I looked out
the window at the Bridge and thought 'I've flown under
that!"
I suppose it is a bit belated but I would like to publicly
acknowledge all the wonderful people at Ansett who made
that a trip of a lifetime, and I suppose I should also
thank the lady with the Snow Tiger, without whom this
would never have happened!
