Moving On

[The Old Man]

He looked at his watch when he had finished unloading the packages and cartons of printing into the store ready for the owner to collect, it was 6pm. He was soaking wet and dirty from both being knocked to the ground by the cargo falling on top of him and the constant rain. He knew that Mannys, the restaurant on the far side of the airport, closed at 9pm so he had plenty of time to have a shower and get cleaned up and still get something to eat. He collected his wash bag and some clean clothes from the Nomad and walked back into the PGA FBO towards the men’s room. As he did so he passed the notice board that had many notes and bits of paper pinned and stuck to it. He normally never paid much attention to the notice boards at the FBOs; he had found from experience that sometime the information could lead the new or unwary into all sorts of problems and trouble. However for some reason he stopped and his eyes briefly swept the various snippets of information displayed. One thing caught his attention if only out of curiosity;

Free pack of steak knives to all pilots volunteering for duty in Washington State and surrounding areas. Apply…….

Unfortunately the paper was torn at this point and whoever anyone was supposed to apply to remained a mystery. He continued to the washroom and as he showered he thought it strange that work in Washington State and surrounding areas, must be dire if an incentive of a free pack of steak knives was on offer. He thought no more about the matter, concentrating only on the main priority of getting to Mannys for some long overdue food.

Taking a seat by the window he picked up the menu and turned the pages, he saw on the back a selection of meals for what was described as;

Seniors, A selection of portions for a reduced rate for our guests 55 and over.

He viewed the selections on offer and as he qualified as a “Senior” he considered it foolhardy to spend extra money when the need did not arise. The waitress arrived to take his order.

He ordered a:
Senior Starter which consisted of 1 egg any style (he chose poached) served with bacon or sausage and a choice of hash browns, grits or applesauce, he chose the sausage and applesauce.
This was followed by:
Senior Dinner and of the various meals on offer he chose a Pot Roast Dinner consisting of tender slow pot roast beef, mashed potato and sweet corn with thick brown gravy.
And to drink he ordered a double thick banana shake.

The waitress left and he looked around the restaurant, he saw a newspaper on the next table, he stood up stepped over and picked it up and then sat down again. He looked around and then took out the steel rimmed spectacles and placed them on, he shook the paper and looked at the top of the front page. SONOMA INDEX TRIBUNE declared the banner at the top and it was today’s edition. He cast his eyes around the front page, read an article about a group seeking funds of $25m to preserve 2,300 acres of wetlands, an area of prime open space along the San Pablo Bay. He turned the page and shook the paper again. The headlines from the top of page 2 shouted out at him, MISSING HELICOPTER FOUND, The Old Man looked around the room and then returned to read the article;

MISSING HELICOPTER FOUND
By Our Reporter I Founditt
The helicopter reported missing three weeks ago has been found at Half Moon Bay. It was spotted first by some contractors working on a new office building at the airport who commented on the bright paint work. Alerted by these comments Mr A N T Mynne a local aircraft surveyor phoned Travis Museum and obtained the construction number from records held at the museum. Shortly after it was confirmed it was the missing helicopter and officials from Travis Museum arrived later the same day. The authorities have been interviewing various employees of an aircraft brokerage at Half Moon Bay and it is soon hoped that those behind the theft of the helicopter are found and arrested.

The Old Man folded the newspaper and placed it on the seat next to him; he took off the spectacles and placed them in his top pocket. The waitress arrived and placed the food in front of him, he started to eat.

It was almost two hours later and he had returned to the Nomad, he opened up the large folding camp bed and rolled out the thick sleeping bag, as he sat in the sleeping bag he thought about the newspaper article, he rubbed his chin, he was unsure if he would in time be named in connection with the helicopter or if the price of gold was enough to buy silence, he could not take the risk, he thought for sometime then an idea came to his mind. He got out of the sleeping bag and reached over between the seats and into the side door pocket and pulled out a pile of sectional charts. He got back into the warm sleeping bag and flicked through the sectional charts, he found the one he was looking for titled Seattle, he opened it and looked, yes that’s he thought that’s Washington State and there is the extra bonus of a free pack of steak knives, a chap never knows when a set of steak knives could come in handy he thought, just wished I knew who to apply to when I get there. That’s it then first thing in the morning he thought as he stabbed at the chart with his finger Tacoma Narrows here I come.

Santa Rosa to Tacoma Narrows
GAF Nomad
Empty $5 pnm
Distance 526nm
Total cost $2630
Senior Captain
Strong
Dice 4

[The Old Man]

Pirep
Santa Rosa to Tacoma Narrows
Distance 526nm
Time 3.8 hours

The morning dawned with a hint of brightness in the east and almost clear blue skies save for the odd touch of wispy cloud high up. It had stopped raining at least and the air smelt fresh and clean.

He got out of the warm sleeping bag and rolled it up and stuffed it into a cotton sack that looked like an oversize pillow slip. Next he folded the camp bed and with the aid of some elastic straps secured it to the underside of one of the forward stowage bins.

He got his washing bag and quickly went to the men’s room for a wash and to clean his teeth, returning to the Nomad and pausing only long enough to throw the washing bag into the cockpit, he kept walking along the perimeter track around the airport towards Mannys. It made sense he had reasoned earlier to have breakfast at Mannys rather than take the time to make something himself, also he had a long flight ahead of him and he wanted to make sure he had a good hot meal before he left.

Entering the restaurant he sat at the same table he had occupied the night before and the waitress that came to serve him gave him a wide smile and said “What will it be?” The Old Man returned the smile and after a brief glance at the menu chose; Country Fried Steak and Eggs with a side order of Country Fried Potatoes, a Belgium Waffle with Blueberry Topping, a large mug of coffee and a glass of milk.

As he eat he stopped from time to time to look around his surroundings, a chef was moving around behind the counter and two waitresses were standing together by the coffee machine talking in hushed tones. There were only two other occupants of the diner, one a young man who The Old Man thought to be about 18 or 20 at the most, dressed in blue overalls with a light checked shirt and a baseball cap bearing the logo “Apex Aviation Corporation”, the other occupant was a female, dressed in a close fitting two piece black pin stripped suit, her hair he noticed was short at the front and lifted high at the back and pinned on top, at her feet, partly obscured by the table she was sat at was a large black briefcase, the sort used by pilots and government officials. He studied her for a couple of moments and went back to his meal, she is no pilot he thought to himself, nearest she gets to aircraft is sitting in first flying between meetings or assignments he had met her type before, cold ruthless and efficient. He looked up again and found her staring at him, he stared back and she lowered her eyes for a moment then looked up at him again. The alarm bells rang in The Old Mans head and the hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up.

After he had finished his meal he paid the bill and started to leave, as he got to the door he turned and noticed the smartly dressed woman draining he cup of coffee and asking for the bill. He walked quickly along the pathway back towards the PGA FBO and the Nomad, it then suddenly dawned on him that he still needed to refuel, he swore to himself silently and shook his head, as he walked he looked behind him but the lady was nowhere to be seen, if he had suspected anything, or if he thought there might by now be some connection between him and the helicopter, then perhaps it was just his paranoia, he started to slow down a little.

He started the Nomad and slowly taxied it the short 300 yards to the refuelling point, switched of then got out and by connecting the hose started to refuel. The meter on the pump clicked round, he stood and stared out across the empty airfield. It took almost another two hours to finish refuelling, secure the aircraft, phone the flight control centre and file his flight plan to Tacoma Narrows and receive confirmation and three print out of weather charts, but at last all was ready. He ran the engines up, checked all the dials and instruments, strapped himself in and taxied to the threshold of runway 14. As he asked for clearance and made his final checks he glanced around outside of the cockpit to make sure everything was clear. He saw a very large very black car pull up at the PGA FBO about 500 yards away and out of the back climbed the lady he had seen in the diner that morning. He saw her look around and start to walk towards the FBO. He received final clearance from the tower and taxied onto the runway and just as he increased power he looked again across to his right and saw her still walking around the FBO. The Nomad dipped her nose and started to move forward, as the airspeed increased he pulled gently on the controls and she lifted gracefully into the air.

Three hours and forty eight minutes later he eased the Nomad down through the cloud and into the light rain as he made a right base approach to Tacoma Narrows. The wheels touched and he reduced power to idle and turned left at the end of the runway onto the taxiway and taxied to the parking area as advised by Tacoma Ground. He shut the aircraft down and climbed out and took in his surrounds, well its raining again he thought then another thought came to mind, I wonder who I report to for the steak knives……………………

[Bonez]

Just a quick tip
Pass on the steak knives...they won't even cut through a shoe

You can better ones from that guy on TV

[The Old Man]

Just a quick tip
Pass on the steak knives...they won't even cut through a shoe

You can better ones from that guy on TV

Sir,
I thank you for your advice. I have three questions if I may, and forgive my ignorance in these matters.

1. How are the knives with steak?
2. Who is the gentleman on television to whom you refer?
3. If I do obtain the knives from the gentleman on television, do I still have to remain in Washington State and Surrounding areas, or may I return to the Bay Area?

I remain Sir etc
The Old Man

[Bonez]

1. The knives are great if the steak is more along the lines of a McDonalds hamburger patty
2. The television guy is the one in all those infomercials who does the "Look how good the knife is, it can slice through the walls of Fort Knox and still cut thin tomato slices afterwards
3. If you get the ones of TV, you can threaten anybody with cutting their planes in half and go wherever you want :)

[The Old Man]

Sir,
I am indeed indebted to you, this information is most helpful.

I remain sir, etc.
The Old Man