Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Same Time, Same Place, Same Level - part 11

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Animals seen from the tower - chicken in boxes

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How is Same Time, Same Place, Same Level - part 11

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Animals flown by air seemed to create all kinds of difficulties. The local airline had a estimate of elderly turboprops, with a few years' worth of flying time left in them, and these were converted for cargo duty. The catch was they had no big cargo doors, neither was there any chance for a retrofit. So they carried only stuff which could pass straight through the primary openings. In spite of this limitation, they were pretty busy most of the time.

When one of the big farms started exporting live chickens, it was only natural they should come for help to the national airline. The cargo habitancy were happy, as the chicks, one day old at the time of transport, were housed in nice cardboard boxes, 101 chicks to a box. The supernumerary plus 1 chick was supposed to catalogue for the unavoidable casualties while in transit. Now can you fantasize the stench and noise created by a few tons of day old chicks? Most couldn't, but according to the crews it was quite phenomenal.

The first few flights went well, but then summer came, and one day they found half the "passengers" dead on advent at destination. The Arab buyer refused to accept the shipment and even threatened to break the compact if this ever happened again. Since a lot of money had been riding on those flights, the experts got together to investigate. They traced events right from the moment the chicks were hatched in their mechanical mother, straight through transport to the airport and ultimately to the loading operation. all appeared in order. Next, they wanted to look at the flight itself.

Chicks loaded, doors closed, ready to start engines... And this is where they found the glitch. The air conditioning ideas of these old planes had never been particularly good, but its designer, bless his soul, probably never in his wildest dream had imagined that his contraption would have to feed fresh air to chicken... Half of the poor birds were dead from lack of oxygen and high climatic characteristic before the plane had even left the stand. Right calculations showed that once in the air the engines could ventilate the cabin sufficiently, but there was just no way to do this while the plane was on the ground. At last a clarification was found, however.

Air traffic operate was asked to cope the chicken flights with priority, thus reducing to a minimum the time from engine start to take-off, while at the same time the plane would taxi and take-off with the doors, which opened inwards, wide open. It was quite a sight to see these old birds lumber into the air with the two, gaping black holes in the fuselage and we didn't want to even think about the crew member detailed to close the doors...

This was not the end of the story, however. That summer had been a real beast from a traffic point of view. Flights were being delayed left, right and town and the finely orchestrated chicken execution started to go sour once again. A 15 limited departure delay, a mere annoyance for human passengers, was a sure death guarantee as far as the chicks were concerned.

Now you must know that, by international agreement, unavoidable categories of flights are never delayed, no matter what. These contain ambulance flights, aircraft on hunt and saving or humanitarian missions, as well as flights carrying head of state types. Could air traffic operate somehow have the chicken flights included in one such category? - came the gentle request from the airline. They seemed very reluctant to take no for an answer, quoting big money, the national interest and the possible wrath of the "greens", so Atc had no option but to bring up the subject at the next regional meeting dealing with air traffic flow management.

The matter drew a lot of smiles and head shaking, but the delegates' persuasive powers and vivid narrative of the sad sight of a planeload of dead chicks ultimately assured a kind of victory. One could not of course expect to put the word "chicken" in the text of a multinational agreement, but if you ever have the chance to look intimately at one of these early documents, you will find a sentence giving exemption from flow administration delays to flights "as specifically requested by State authorities". Like flights carrying live chicken, of course...

The mouse story

Even mice were not immune to getting mixed up in aviation incidents. A family of four were returning from Cairo for a long overdue holiday. Their children loved animals, and in their home on fashionable Zamalek-Island you could find a variety of birds, turtles, cats and dogs as well as a family of white mice. This latter consisted of an old male, famous for his adventures covering of marriage, the white/gray mice caught in the neighborhood providing ample evidence of this, a female, and twelve tiny offspring, born a few days before the family (the human family, that is...) was due to leave for their holiday. It was relatively easy to find take care of parents for most of the house-dears for the duration they would be away, with the irregularity of the mice. No one seemed especially keen to have them, even for a short time, like four weeks. Although the head of the family had seen this as a exquisite chance to arrange of the mice once and for all, in the end the children prevailed, and so the mice boarded the plane together with the rest of the family, secret in an innocent looking cardboard box. Once on the plane, the box got deposited under the elder boy's seat, the cushions thankfully blocking the funny, scraping noises emanating from the box. All went well during the first hour, but only because nobody had been aware what the old male was up to. It would seem he took very unkindly to being locked up in such tight quarters with his family, and in any case his instincts must have told him that here was the big chance for some international adventure...

In a limited over an hour he managed to chew his way out of the box and all of a sudden he appeared on the edge of the red carpeting running the distance of the town aisle. A small, white, furry spot, but a mouse, nevertheless. A fellow passenger, a lady and a friend of the family who was privy to their secret, silently got up, walked casually to the boy and again without saying a word, pointed to the carpet. It was too late, however. Our limited knight had industrialized by at least two rows of seats and one of the stews was walking down towards them, with a tray of drinks in her hands. It was clear that grabbing for the mouse would be nothing short of keen disaster, so all they could do was to watch in silent horror... The girl didn't observation a thing. As it happened, the limited mouse managed the ride all the way home without once being noticed. He did reappear ordinarily at assorted spots but none of the passengers or crew seemed to see him. Maybe this had to do with the fact that you don't of course expect to see a white mouse aboard an airliner, and if you were to see one, of course you would put it down to too much free booze... As a reputation to motherly instincts, mamma mouse and her limited ones had not ventured out of the box.

On advent the mice, minus daddy of course, got smuggled straight through customs, only to end up in a pet shop as, after this, even the boys were afraid of what might happen on the return trip.

An aircraft must be a lonely place for a flirtatious mouse, but our limited escapee must have seen something in it after all. It was after any months, and without doubt countless trips all over Europe, that a small news item in one of the local papers announced his sad passing from the world. He had been caught, but not before sending a stew, with a tray of drinks in her hands, flying into the lap of the nearest passenger on board a flight to London...

Lethal regulations...

At one airport thy had their own family of mice. They lived happily in the under-floor cable ducts and had the habit of appearing in the small hours of the night, scaring the hell out of female assistants. Traps were set, poison boxes were put in corners, but at least one hardy limited animal had learned to avoid all the dangers and continued his (her?) nightly forays. In time habitancy working there grew quite fond of him and in spite of the protests voiced by the girls, controllers started feeding him, leaving bread crumbs and the like on the floor, near the place where he ordinarily appeared.

His boldness was quite amazing. Sometimes he would climb out of his hole in broad daylight, sniff nearby and then wait with shiny black eyes until man brought him his lunch.

Around this time the Atc authority was busy distributing a brand new edition of a book entitled "Procedures for Air pilotage Services", the "bible" of air traffic control. any hundred copies were stored all over the place, awaiting pick up by controllers and other interested parties. It was any weeks later that they noticed that their limited friend was missing. His lunch and dinner went untouched, his daily appearances gone. While most of the controllers were mourning for him, others looked upon the whole thing as a suitable development.

Mouse or no mouse, gently they got to the bottom row of the books. This last batch was to be left in warehouse to satisfy time to come requests for the document. They were about to put them in a specially assigned metal cabinet when they found the mouse. He was dead, dried to half his general size, lying in the middle of the remains of one of the books. Apparently he had chewed into two pages of definitions, one page of aerodrome operate and a few pages of radar procedures... A deadly mix by anyone's standards.

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