As he pulls into the driveway he catches a flash of light from the living room windows, like a flickering TV, but the TV isn’t on. He unlocks the front door, slips off his boots and slides silently into the living room, checking left and right as he puts his hand on the Spanish rapier hanging on the wall. While its twin on the other wall still has a protective cap on the tip of the blade, this one is sharpened to a point. He once discussed close combat with his father, who spent time in the Arctic during World War II. His father’s advice had been simple, “Keep your opponent at bay and leave that hand-to-hand stuff for the movies. The best weapon I used was a sharpened spade!”
Jed had never asked for an elaboration, but remembers the advice.
Previous experience confirmed that when combat becomes personal, it is best to keep an opponent at arms length unless absolutely unavoidable. In the movies, opponents come one at a time but real life is very different! Jed holds the rapier low against his leg as he scans the room and methodically checks the adjoining rooms. As he steps out of the ensuite, he hears the back door open and senses a dark shape slide around the corner. Chasing the figure, Jed sees him stumble down the concrete steps at the side of house. He stops at the top of the steps, moonlight and the street lamp reflecting off the rapier held ready to defend. The figure stands up, staggers backward and turns to disappear into the street. A glimpse of the face in the light of the moon and reflected glow of the streetlamp reveals a brief flash of familiarity he can’t quite place.
Back in the house, the atmosphere has changed. His comfortable home feels violated. He detests low-life burglars and the disruption their presence causes. He secures the doors and turns on the lights to check the rooms. Nothing taken! Rent money from one of his flats is still on the table, ready to bank, and an antique revolver is still in its display case. Perhaps he interrupted the intruder soon after entry. The study has been disturbed and on the living room floor his planning for locating the plane is scattered as if it has been searched or tramped through.
When he tidies things up the only thing he can’t find is the map on which he has marked possible tracks from the Philippines to Darwin. What a useless thing to pinch! If it has been pinched? Perhaps he has put it somewhere but can’t think where. Is he having a senior moment? Unsettled by a surprise intruder? Or has he simply forgotten? He goes through the pile of material again and finds that one photograph of the plane also seems to be missing. Very strange. He sits up late with a good port to calm his emotions before an unsettled night’s sleep.
Chapter Seven
Darwin is an exotic city at any time, but is at its best outside the wet season. Since it was destroyed by Cyclone Tracey, it has been rebuilt into a modern city reflecting a mix of nationalities from all over the world. Auckland has a similar feel but is a big city. In comparison, Darwin is small but exciting, a melting pot of cultures.
Their flights arrive in the early evening and they catch up for a drink before returning to separate rooms for some well-earned sleep. The day is going to be busy. He knocks on her door at what he considers a fairly reasonable seven thirty am. It is opened by a dishevelled blonde in a blue dressing gown and bare feet, greeting him with a tone matching the sharpness of his rapier.
“Give me at least half an hour and don’t even consider talking to me until I’ve had two mugs of coffee!” The door is shut firmly in his face.
He raises an eyebrow in contemplation. Maybe it is a bit early, he decides with a smile as he ponders the brief moment of intimacy and realises how attractive she is even without make-up and hair askew. Catching a quick glimpse of a scar normally hidden by make-up running down the right side of her nose, Jed wonders briefly what happened to cause it as he turns and goes to find a paper to kill some time.
Alexander, now immaculately made-up, meets him on time dressed in jeans, sneakers and an open-necked blouse. They settle on a Mitchell Street café with a sidewalk table in the morning sun, a full cooked breakfast of poached eggs on toast, tomatoes, mushrooms and salad followed by good coffee and a read of the papers.
Jed particularly enjoys the papers. The last mistake he married would have regarded reading the papers over breakfast as being disconnected and given him a hard time. Instead, he can now enjoy breakfast in good company. The sky is a cloudless bright blue and the temperature comfortable, a good time of year in Northern Australia.
While they wait for breakfast, Jed lets his imagination take one of its random journeys. “The Darwin of Karl’s time would have been a lot different to this!” he suggests thoughtfully as they watch the city coming to life.
“In what way?” Alexander asks with genuine interest, fired by the second coffee. She recognises the randomness of a restless mind similar to her own and identifies with it.
“In 1942, Darwin was a gathering ground of drifters, dead beats and men who wanted to leave their past life behind. There were also the buffalo shooters from ‘down south’, overland mailmen and linesmen from ‘down country’ and jackeroos from the ‘nor-west’. On top of that lot, throw in the fettlers who kept the railway open to Birdum, the gold miners of Tennant Creek, cattlemen from the station runs, the squaddies from the garrison and the pompous civil servants of the administration, whose ‘stiff necks’ would have loosened up the longer they spent up here.”
“You paint quite a contrast from this,” Alexander comments as her eyes roam the street.
“Pre-war Darwin was known as the ‘Suez of the South’ where a melting pot of nationalities met—Malay, Chinese, Japanese, Greeks, Italians, Russians… you name it! They were travellers, gamblers, revellers, labourers, drug runners, pearl divers, tradesmen and clerks. The place was a tapestry of colour, drama and romance virtually unknown to the Australia down south and held in awe by those who had heard of the place. It was a complex jigsaw of love, hate, vice, greed, labour, industry and opportunity forever blasted off the map by the Japanese bombing and then erased again by Cyclone Tracey. The end result is what you see now!” he finishes as enthusiasm carries him away.
“You paint a fascinating picture!” Alexander offers again. She has been able to imagine flashes of the atmosphere he described. “You talk as though you would have liked to experience it,” she suggests with empathy.
“It would certainly make a change from the politics of education!” he replies wistfully, hinting at regret at being born in the wrong era. Jed welcomes the arrival of breakfast, cutting short any opportunity to pursue that line of discussion. He prefers his inner feelings well hidden under a layer of professionalism or what some mistake as aloofness. Instead, they settle into a hearty breakfast with healthy appetites and the distraction of the newspapers.
“Much in the local?” Alexander eventually asks between mouthfuls.
“Another crocodile story,” Jed says, scanning page three of the Northern Territory News. “Every time I’m here there’s some story involving crocodiles. If they couldn’t run crocodile stories I reckon the local papers would be up the proverbial creek in a lead-lined, mesh-bottomed canoe!”
“Probably keeps the tourists excited!” she replies as she scans her part of the paper. “Property prices are holding up well here.”
Evidence of an astute financial mind Jed notes. “Mining and defence keeps the demand up I guess. We need to be at the airport before ten to give time for a briefing.”
“What’s happening again?”
“Although the aircraft I lined up is a private one, it’s hired out by Darwin Air. For pilots they don’t know, they need to do a check flight to make sure the pilot is competent and has a current licence. We’ll do a short flight and some basic manoeuvres so they can sign me off as safe.”
“That sounds like fun. I’m coming with you. There’s no way I’m sitting around waiting.”
“Yeah, you’re coming. If I left you on your own you’d be surrounded by men by the time I got back or picked up and flown to some exotic location!”
“I’m sure I could cope!” she responds cheekily,
looking up under her wayward fringe.
Jed feels a tingling sensation wash through him as he takes in the look. He gives no hint of his feelings. The wall around those feelings must stay intact.
Jed pays the bill and Alexander drives to the airport, handling the manual Landcruiser with an easy grace that belies its size. The airport is a combined domestic, international and air force facility. Darwin Air is easy to find in the general aviation section of the airport. She parks the big vehicle competently and they walk over to the office area.
Chapter Eight
Striding purposefully up to the counter, Jed introduces himself. “Good morning, I’m Jed Mitchell, booked in for a check flight at ten.”
The office girl smiles a welcome and looks over to an instructor, scanning the NOTAMs on a noticeboard. He turns around with a welcoming grin. “Didn’t think there’d be too many flyers with that name. G’day Jed!”
Dan Saunders, looking very professional, is a young instructor building flying time until he can move on in the world of aviation. White, open-necked shirt, epaulets on his shoulders, a winged gold badge on his chest worn with pride and neatly ironed black trousers covering a slim, tanned, athletic body. He has been a member of the Aero Club of Southern Tasmania, more recently scoring a job up North to build his time in the air.
‘Hi Dan! Good to see you again. You giving me a work out?”
“That’s the story. It’s a beautiful aircraft and the owner is a bit fussy. Here on holidays?”
“That’s the plan. This is Alexander. We’re here for a few days touring.”
They chat for a while before Dan indicates a pile of documents.
“This is the airport layout,” he says, pointing to a map, “and these are the various frequencies. Delta Tango Romeo is a standard Cessna 182 but fitted with long-range tanks, a three-blade prop and drooped wing tips. Avionics were recently upgraded. These are the aircraft handling notes, performance charts and weight and balance information. I’ll give you some time before we get started. While you are reading, I’ll have a look at your log book.”
Alexander makes coffee while Jed studies the documents. As he discards them, Alexander picks them up and inspects them closely, running her finger carefully over the tables and graphs. When Jed finishes, she points to the weight and balance and performance graphs.
“In summer, with full tanks and some baggage, this plane would struggle to lift four people unless there was a long runway,” she announces decisively. “Air produces less lift as the temperature and altitude goes up.”
“You are right,” Jed says with open respect. Sharp as a tack but what else does he expect? He’s never met a non-pilot who could get anywhere near deciphering those charts. “Don’t under estimate the 182. It’s a fantastic aircraft and there are only two of us and it’s not summer. It has all the performance we will need, even with full tanks.”
“I don’t doubt it, I’m just interested in the science,” she replies, shooting him another teasing look.
Dan walks over to interrupt them and it is time to go. As they walk out to the aircraft, Jed gives a running commentary. “The 182 looks like the smaller 172. Both are four seaters but the 182 has two hundred and thirty horse power compared to one hundred and sixty in the 172. It’s bigger all round but not immediately obvious. If you climb in the back I’ll daily the aircraft.”
Alexander does as she is told for once and settles in, watching intently as Jed goes around the aircraft in a full circle, checking the propeller, oil, fuel, wheels, flaps, ailerons, elevators, rudder and everything else to ensure it will fly safely, then joins Dan in the cockpit. They strap in, plug in the headsets and Jed starts working through the pre-start checks aloud so that Dan can hear.
Once she puts on the headphones, Alexander enters a different world. She has many skills, has made smart investments in real estate and the stock market and considers herself as good as any man but is fascinated by what she sees transpiring between Dan and Jed. A relationship in which the younger man must evaluate the older, based on mutual respect forged in the unforgiving environment of aviation. She watches and listens carefully, taking everything in. She is enjoying the opportunity to place her trust in a man and to bury her learned distrust in eager anticipation.
“Control lock out, brakes off, fuel on, master on, magnetos on both, mixture rich, priming the engine,” Jed announces. “Throttle set and locked, prop clear,” he calls, looking left and right and then cranks the engine to fire it up, letting it settle on an idle of one thousand rpm. He turns the avionics master switch on, listening to the airport terminal information service (ATIS), and then calls up ground control.
“Delta Tango Romeo, three POB for Cox Peninsula, outbound two seven zero at four five zero zero, received information Sierra, request taxi clearance for runway one one.”
“Delta Tango Romeo, clear to taxi for the holding point for runway one one to await clearance,” a voice from the tower responds crisply.
“Delta Tango Romeo,” Jed confirms as he eases the throttle forward to begin taxiing to the holding point.
Alexander listens intently through the headphones, matching up what she hears with what she sees them doing in the cockpit. At the holding point, Jed holds the aircraft on the brakes to run through the pre-take off checks. She notes the precision with which everything is done and the relaxed but sharp observations by Dan.
Satisfied the aircraft is ready to fly, Jed keys the microphone, “Darwin Control, Delta Tango Romeo is ready.”
“Delta Tango Romeo, clear for take off, make a left turn and report on departure.”
“Delta Tango Romeo, left turn, report on departure,” he repeats as he taxies out to the runway and pushes the throttle forward. The aircraft accelerates smoothly. He applies slight back pressure to the control wheel to take the weight off the nose wheel, holding his left hand slightly down to raise the port aileron slightly into the breeze.
He runs an eye over the instruments. “Acceleration good, oil and temperature in the green,” while also pointing with his right hand so Dan can hear and see him doing his checks. At fifty knots he applies more back pressure until the aircraft flies off the ground and then holds eighty knots to maintain the climb attitude. At two hundred feet he puts his fingers on the flap lever and says aloud, “Flaps identified and up,” as he flicks the lever up. He adjusts the manifold pressure back to twenty-five inches and the rpm to two thousand five hundred rpm, trimming the aircraft to maintain the climb through the left turn out of the circuit area.
“Delta Tango Romeo departed two five, tracking two seven zero for Cox Peninsula on climb to four five zero zero,” Jed says crisply into the microphone, checking the cowl flaps are open to cool the engine on climb.
“That’s all good. Let’s enjoy the view for a while until we clear Darwin,” Dan suggests.
“This is the view Karl would have seen departing Darwin,” Jed says to Alexander as he gazes thoughtfully out the cockpit windows.
“Just what I was thinking,” Alexander responds as she scans both sides of the aircraft, casting her mind back to another time. “It’s beautiful.”
The curve of the land partly encloses the sweeping bay of blue that expands out into the ocean, stretching away to the horizon in varying shades. On the surface is etched a haphazard pattern of white, foamy lines marking the currents intertwined in a complex mix beneath the surface. At this time of the day, only a few scattered white puffy clouds decorate the sky. Cox Peninsula looms up quickly at their cruise speed of one hundred and forty knots. Entering the training area, Jed gives an all stations call to advise aircraft in the area they will be doing aerial work for the next twenty minutes.
After briefing Alexander on what to expect, they work through a series of steep turns and finish with a stall, pulling the power back and raising the nose until the airflow over the wings breaks down and the nose drops through the horizon.
“That’s a good recovery. Take us down to two thousand and I will show yo
u the crash site of a World War II Liberator,” Dan commands.
Jed pulls the power back to one thousand eight hundred rpm and trims for a ninety knot descent, the engine still turning over to prevent shock cooling of the cylinders.
Dan notes this with approval, but says nothing.
“Just over there,” Dan points and, as Jed turns to look, he puts his hand on the throttle to pull the power right back. “Engine failure!” he announces. Dan has done what all instructors need to do—catch a pilot by surprise to see how they respond.
Jed keeps his finger off the mic button but responds with a simulated call over the radio. “Mayday, mayday, mayday, Delta Tango Romeo, engine failure, five miles west of Mandurah, three POB, forced landing.” He briefs his passengers and performs the routine checks—fuel, magnetos, mixture, throttle and fuel pump—while trimming the aircraft for best glide speed.
He scans the area for the best place for a forced landing. Everything is covered by trees so he makes a snap decision. “I’m going for the road.” There are power lines along the road but plenty of clearance, so he sets up a glide parallel to the road, turns ninety degrees as they pass through one thousand feet and then another ninety degrees to line up with the straight stretch of asphalt, checking there is no traffic in sight. His hand moves to the flap lever and then he sees the gates—a steel boom gate across the road, preventing access to the ABC short wave radio station.
“Would we make it over the gates?” Dan asks casually.
“I’m holding off the flaps, maintaining best glide speed ... let’s see ... flaps ready ... Yes! We’ll make it!” he confirms with relief as he drops some flap to provide more lift.
“Let’s make sure,” Dan replies calmly. “Keep her coming down.”
Alexander watches with mounting excitement as the aircraft continues to descend closer and closer to the ground with each passing second. A few more seconds confirms it. They will clear the boom gate and be able to land on the road.
Fire Eye Page 5