Flightcom Magazine June 2022 by Flyer & Aviation Publications

FlightCm African Commercial Aviation

Edition 162 | June 2022

John Bassi

Russia’s Ukraine

lessons

– surviving the lockdown

for Africa

Two stories from Sudan

FlightCom: June 2022

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CONTENTS

TABLE OF 06 12 16 21 22 26 29 30 31 32 34

Publisher Flyer and Aviation Publications cc Managing Editor Guy Leitch guy@flightcommag.com Advertising Sales Wayne Wilson wayne@saflyermag.co.za

JUNE 2022 EDITION 162

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Bush Pilot - Hugh Pryor Defence - Guy Leitch Pilots - Laura McDermid AME Directory John Bassi - Lockdown Part 3 News - Flight Inspection Symposium News - Bombardier’s Global 8000 Alpi Aviation SA: Flight School Directory Atlas Oil Charter Directory AVES Technics AMO Listing Backpage Directory

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A NOTE FROM

THE EDITOR: African airlines have been the slowest sector of the airline industry to recover from the Covid pandemic. IN ITS MAY INTERNATIONAL TRAVEL Report, IATA notes that airlines based in Africa experienced a 91.8% year on year growth rate in their international RPKs in March. Together with Asia, Africa's international RPKs lag more than the other regions in terms of recovery to pre-pandemic levels, which are currently still half of what they were in March 2019. Air travel demand is restricted by Africa’s low vaccination rates as well as rising inflation. Africa accounts for just 1.9% of the total global passenger air travel market and given its slow recovery, this share is likely to decline even further. It is therefore not surprising that that the larger international carriers are quickly moving into the space left by the African carriers. Most noticeably United Airlines is aggressively expanding into Africa.

Wesgro’s Cape Air Access Initiative is to be congratulated on promoting flights to Cape Town, which is a natural stepping-off point for the ultralong haul flights to the USA. Cape Town is rapidly cementing its position as the key hub for Southern African tourism, thanks in large part to the huge improvements in connectivity created by initiatives such as the Cape Air Access initiative. And of course, it has a major geographical advantage thanks to its sea level altitude.

Cape Town is the key hub for Southern African tourism

United already operates direct flights from the USA to four cities in three countries in Africa. The American carrier’s latest expansion has been at the expense of a still moribund SAA, as United has announced direct flights from Washington to Cape Town. This bypasses and thus further marginalises SAA’s Johannesburg hub. It is noteworthy that United only has to obtain approval from the United States Department of Transport for the thrice weekly nonstop flights between Washington and Cape Town. The airline has thus been able to bypass the logjammed South African International Air Services Licensing Council.

Another beneficiary of this new route will be regional powerhouse airline Airlink, which is United's partner in Southern Africa and this will enable the Cape Town flights to correct connect seamlessly with more than 50 destinations across Southern Africa. In particular, it will connect tourists directly from the Cape to the Greater Kruger Park game reserves.

In this issue I also explore the problems the South African government is having the strategic equity partner deal for SAA finalised. This must also be due in part to the seeming impossibility of the task of being able to make SAA competitive once again. SAA has had its lunch most thoroughly eaten during the eight wasted Zuma years of state capture under Dudu Myeni and the task of the airline ever being able to make up the ground it has lost to the mega international carriers must be seen as impossible. 

BUSH PILOT HUGH PRYOR

PAR T 2 IAN , TH E SU DAN AND MINISTER

C H R I S PAT T E N

The British Government wanted to look into the possibility of opening Suakin, (a port city in northeastern Sudan on the Red Sea) up again as the main port for another old British colonial project due for resurrection, namely the Tokar Delta Irrigation Scheme.

HE TOKAR RIVER IS SEASONAL . Twice a year rains fall for a couple of months on the high plateaux of Eritrea and the Tokar river goes into spate, sweeping nutrient-rich soil down onto the coastal plain of Sudan, close to what used to be the Ethiopian border. Soon after the rains stop, the Tokar Delta completely dries out and reverts to semi-desert. The British plan was to build substantial barrages to divert the torrent into large reservoirs, thus taming the river into supplying irrigation the year round. And it worked well, supplying copious quantities of high-grade, long-strand cotton for many years..... until independence, with its associated corruption and lethargy, put an end to it.

It is interesting how enthusiastic politicians in newly independent states are to eject their colonial masters and yet how happy they are to welcome them back if there is a sniff of Government aid in the air. We were treated like princes at Tokar. After landing the Islander in amongst the mouldering remains of some Soviet spray planes, we were ushered into the old administrative compound by an aged retainer. Accommodation was laid on in the old Tokar Delta Scheme Administration Head Quarters, a large crumbling porticoed monument to British entrepreneurial optimism.

We were treated like princes at Tokar.

Now Ian and the kindly Minister were looking into the possibility of reactivating the scheme with British private investment, guaranteed by Her Majesty's Government.

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The cook-cum-house-servant appeared to be roughly of the same vintage as the building, as did the mosquito nets. Unexpectedly he proved to be a magician who could conjure up fresh lobsters with a cheeky little mayonnaise sauce, spiked with interesting local spices from a soot-blackened hole in the wall euphemistically called "the kitchen". Haj, as our cook was called, assured us that he

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fully understood the workings of the Khawajah (European) alimentary system and promised us that nothing untoward from his department would disrupt our schedule in the coming days. He even told us that the ice was made from purified drinking water...ICE?...WHERE on EARTH do you get ICE from in this remote God-forsaken corner of colonial oblivion?! Incredible! So Ian produced a bottle of Mr. Walker’s Best, kindly freed of duty by the British embassy, and the three of us settled down to discuss the day's events, watching the sun sink behind the jagged silhouette of the Red Sea hills. The terrace of the old Admin Building was flanked by two enormous field guns which bore brass placards that announced that they had previously served as naval artillery aboard the German Battle-cruiser Konigsberg. She was eventually destroyed in the Rufiji River Delta, way down south in Tanzania, in the First World War, after a long battle, during which aircraft were used for the first time to spot for the navy. How they got to Tokar is a mystery. The lobsters were quite unforgettable in the nicest possible way and Mr. Walker's contribution to the evening's relaxed conversation did not go unappreciated!

as a hotel for visiting dignitaries, with its bar and easy chairs and piano, is guarded and preserved to this day. The runway is reputed to be mined in case the Feelthy Colonialists ever thought about returning there. I only found out about this after I had been landing there for several months, so either I was extremely lucky or the mines were a figment of the Propaganda Ministry's imagination. I tend to believe the latter! Upon arrival in Khartoum we hardly had a chance to change our underpants before rushing off into the impenetrable swamps of the Sud, so limited was the kindly Minister's time. It wasn't until we were well on our way south that Ian discovered that Mr. Walker's "brother" had inadvertently been omitted from the passenger manifest! It was going to be a long trip without his company, however limited the kindly Minister's time might be.

We spent three more nights in this nostalgic fragment of British colonial history

We spent three more nights in this nostalgic fragment of British colonial history before returning to Khartoum. Our flight took us past the old RAF base at Carthago, which was one of the first things to be destroyed by the paranoid Soviets who replaced the Brits in Sudan, rather as they had in Aden. The officers' accommodation for the base was built up in the Red Sea hills at Erkowit to the east of the aerodrome and the officers' mess, which doubled

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The Sud is a swamp of such enormous proportions that it actually provides two percent of the world's oxygen. During the rains it extends for three hundred miles north/south and east/west. In Sudanese Arabic the word "sud" means "barrier" and that gives some indication of what the Arabs of the north felt about it. It is an area dominated by malarial mosquitoes and tsetse flies which carry schistosomiasis, the killer "sleeping sickness". Then there's puff adders, spitting cobras and crocodiles, and if that lot doesn't get you, they do quite a nice line in Arachnida as well. The people of the Sud are Black Africans and mostly Christian or "Animist", which means that they don't really know what they are. The people of the north are Afro-Arabs and are mostly Muslim. This has led

to centuries of wars, the most recent of which is just about to celebrate its twenty-seventh anniversary. Around one point five million southerners have been killed since this last one started. Slavery is still rife, particularly in the western reaches of the Sud around the Bahr el Gazal, a tributary of the Great Nile. There's nothing else left to steal. The railway from Khartoum comes down through the area, two or three times a year, four trains at a time, on its way to Wau. The trip takes two months because they have to lift the tracks from behind the trains and lay them in front all the way because so many of the rails have been "borrowed" or blown up. The front train is full of cavalry from Dharfur who sanitise the area each side of the track, capturing slaves and anything else that they find on the way. The only pay they receive is war-booty and the region is becoming increasingly booty-free as the war takes its toll on the resident population. Famine is widespread and only one baby in three survives to the age of five years.

since then. I was enormously privileged to be able to rectify that situation, by bringing him a new pair of 3•5 dioptre reading glasses from Nairobi, on my next visit. At Billing the doctor, Elijah Makenda, studied medicine at Makerere University in Uganda before going on to Padua University Hospital to study orthopaedic surgery, obtaining his doctorate and continuing at the university as a professor for a further three years. With all that experience behind him, and so much potential ahead of him, he decided to go back to Billing and build a hospital for his people. He speaks fluent and colloquial Italian as does Julia, his wife, and his English, although accented, is word-perfect. Billing is a group of small thatched mud huts, some of which make up the hospital, in the middle of an immense area of mosquito-infested thorn bush. Elijah is an Albert Schweitzer in his own land.

Famine is widespread and only one baby in three survives to the age of five year

The British government feels a particular affinity with the tall pastoralists who inhabit the Sud. They are full of surprises. In a village where many of the younger people have never set eyes on a European, and hardly anyone wears any clothes at all, Abraham, the teacher turned out to have spent five years at the London School of Economics. He was easy to spot because he wore the remnants of an Austin Reed Harris tweed hacking jacket with trilby hat and spoke with the kind of English accent normally only heard in the corridors of the House of Lords. His Clark’s brogue Oxford shoes had finally collapsed about four years before I met him, but the ‘thousand-miler’ sandals, made from old car tyres, seemed to serve very well as replacements. His glasses had been smashed during a government bombing raid, some four years previously, and he had been unable to read

Our trip was to take us round some of the projects being funded by Her Majesty's Tax Payers. There was the small textile factory at Mongalla, a fish processing plant at Gondokoro and a Tsetse fly eradication project at Amadi. The Mango Juice processing facility at Iambio was ironically based on the thousands of Mango trees which line the old slave routes, where the slaves unintentionally planted them, having eaten the fruit which were originally imported from the east by the slave traders. Also at Iambio the British Government still funded the extensive acreages of old Colonial Forestry Commission teak forests. We would spend our first night in Juba, the capital of the South, on the Nile just north of the Uganda border. The second night would be at Iambio with the Catholic Fathers and the third night we would stay at the government rest house at Wau. FlightCom: June 2022

Wau is geographically about as close as you can get to the centre of the African continent. In colonial times, people unfortunate enough to be posted there used to joke that Wau was not the end of the world, but you could definitely see it from there! We were also hoping to get fuel there for our Britten Norman Islander.

jelabia and the only thing which differentiated him from the locals was his hair and that was mostly missing. The remainder was greasy, dirty and uncut.

I had been briefed that the local agent for the Shell oil company was a certain Greek gentleman whose name was Dimitri. He was apparently a bit of a "one-off", whatever that meant.

"I understand you're the Shell man around here."

So, while Ian and our Minister went off to do their thing, I set about finding Dimitri and getting the plane topped up. The people at the airport were most helpful. One of the Air Traffic Controllers who was going home for lunch offered me a lift into town on his ancient Raleigh bicycle, an offer I gratefully accepted. That was my first ride as a pillion passenger on a bike since my childhood. You would probably be jailed if they caught you doing that sort of thing in the European Community, nowadays. He dropped me off in a side street in town, at the door of a dilapidated mud hut with a tin roof. I pushed open the creaking door and entered. The shop appeared to be in pitch darkness, coming as I had from the blinding sunlight. My nostrils were immediately greeted by the ubiquitous smells of Africa; sweat, charcoal and E-Coli.

"Dimitri?" I enquired. He nodded his head suspiciously.

Again the surreptitious nod of the head.

he swept aside one of the sacks to reveal, not a beautiful young girl

As my eyes became accustomed, I noticed that I was in a large earth-floored room with a rough counter, stained by constant contact with the great unwashed, running round three of the walls. The walls themselves were hung with old sacks as if the proprietor did not want his customers to see what he had in stock. Suddenly a flap in the sacking quivered and a figure appeared as though he had materialised straight out of the wall. He wore a grubby off-white

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"I'm down here with a delegation from the British Embassy," I announced importantly, hoping to elicit some respect from this uncommunicative subject. "And we need Avgas 100 low lead fuel for our aircraft. I can pay in dollars," I added, baiting the hook.

Dimitri considered this problem at length and finally, coming to a decision, he looked me straight in the eye and said, "You like some whisky?" This question took me by surprise, particularly in this out-of-the-way spot in a Muslim governmentheld outpost and coming from a person who was supposed to be selling aviation fuel. There was no doubt though that, since Mr. Walker had been omitted from the passenger list, any addition to our liquid assets would be most welcome. "How much?" I muttered, as if conniving in an illicit deal. "You like her, you take as much you like." said Dimitri with the sly grin of a practised pimp. "She have very attractive price, special for you." And so saying, he swept aside one of the sacks to reveal, not a beautiful young girl, but floor-to-ceiling boxes of a brand of Scotch which I had never come across

before. Red Hackle was her name, whisky obviously being feminine in Greek. The price was indeed so attractive that I could only believe that Dimitri's stocks had fallen off the back of the proverbial truck. I swiftly calculated that I could afford to purchase eleven bottles. Dimitri seemed to think that was enough to warrant giving us our aviation fuel and his beaming smile indicated a satisfactory conclusion to the deal. "How can I get "her" down to the aeroplane?" I said, involuntarily adopting Dimitri's use of the feminine gender.

making the whole thing gel so well." Now it was Ian's turn to reply to the Minister's speech. "Yes Chris," he started. ‘It really went better than I could have hoped and it was very much appreciated that you managed to make time for the trip. There's nothing like first-hand knowledge and now you will know what we're talking about when we mention specific needs for specific projects. It has been great fun having you with us. Shame we don't have anything to celebrate with.”

probably the most successful and interesting tour I have made

"No problem." Dimitri assured me, "I take her with me in the truck with the fuel. No-one see her. No problem," he reassured me, patting my shoulder.

We duly loaded her into Dimitri's truck, discretely veiling her modesty from the lecherous attentions of the police behind the drums of avgas. Upon our arrival at the airport, we quickly transferred her to the lockable aft luggage bay of the Islander and Dimitri gave me a hand with the refuelling, I retained one bottle in my brief case so that I could introduce her to my friends at the rest house. When I got back to the rest house that evening Ian and our Minister were sitting on the veranda chatting about the trip. We were due back in Khartoum the following day. "That was probably the most successful and interesting tour I have made since being appointed." said the Minister. "We've achieved a lot and opened up a number of new ideas for future development. To be honest I've enjoyed this trip so much that I'm going to find it pretty mundane going back to work again. I'd like to thank you both very much for

And now it was my turn, "Well, gentlemen," I said, "I just happen to have invited a friend along this evening. Her name is Red Hackle and I think you will get along fine once you get to know her." So saying, I produced the bottle from my brief case. A small cheer rose from the assembled company and we soon forgot about the fact that there was no food left in the house.

------ooo------

Ian died recently, leaving a distraught and lonely Joyce to live on the memories of an eventful and happy past. Death is seldom kind to those that are left behind, but the reason why I can write this story is because Ian was alive and I had the privilege to have been with him for part of his fascinating trip through life. 

FlightCom: June 2022

DEFENCE GUY LEITCH

LESSONS FOR AFRICA FROM THE AIR WAR IN THE UKRAINE The Russian experience in Ukraine provides clear lessons for Africa in the effective use of fighters. Africa has proven itself better at buying expensive new fighters than maintaining them, and in particular, providing the logistical support for their effective deployment.

HE EVIDENCE FOR AFRICA’S propensity to buy new arms rather than maintain older systems is plentiful: the Su25s and Su-22s rotting at Catumbela in Angola, and the struggle to keep South Africa’s Gripens and Hawks airworthy. More remarkably, even when only low level technology is used, Nigeria has proved unable to maintain and operate its 60 ‘homebuilt’ RV-6A ‘Beetles’ for basic flight training. (These have now been purchased by private investors in South Africa who will rebuild them for sale around the world.)

high level experience and logistic skills, African air forces will, like Russia’s also be found to be weak in this key aspect of conflict management. The experience of the much-vaunted Russian air force in its invasion of the Ukraine is therefore instructive for African air forces.

It is these complex skills that African air forces lack

The serviceability of Africa’s air force fleet is often questionable. Fortunately, Africa’s military logistics have not been seriously tested by any major invasion with associated supply line challenges, but it is likely that given the lack of

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Writing in The Atlantic, Phillips Payson O’Brien and Edward Stringer note that on paper, “Airpower should have been one of Russia’s greatest advantages over Ukraine. With almost 4,000 combat aircraft and extensive experience bombing targets in Syria, Georgia, and Chechnya, Russia’s air force was expected to play a vital role in the invasion, allowing the Russian army to plunge deep into Ukraine, seize Kyiv, and destroy the

Ukrainian military. But more than three months into the war, Vladimir Putin’s air force is still fighting for control of the skies.” They argue that, “Air forces are dependent on an array of technologies that require highly trained personnel who can quickly set up what amounts to an airborne military ecosystem: airborne radar stations to provide command and control, fighters to protect and police the skies, refuelling aircraft to keep everyone full of gas, electronic-warfare planes to keep enemy defences suppressed, and a range of intelligence-gatherers and attack aircraft to locate and destroy enemy forces.” It is exactly these complex skills that African air forces lack.

O’Brien and Stringer write, “Unfortunately for the Russians, the recent modernisation of the Russian air force, although intended to enable it to conduct modern combined operations, was mostly for show. The Russians wasted money and effort on corruption and inefficiency. Though much was made of the flashy new equipment, such as the much-hyped SU34 strike aircraft, the Russian air force continues to suffer from flawed logistics operations and the lack of regular, realistic training. Above all, the autocratic Russian kleptocracy does not trust low-ranking and middle-ranking officers, and so cannot allow the imaginative, flexible decision making that NATO air forces rely upon.

“Everyone has a plan until they are punched in the mouth.”

African air forces were arguably acquired to provide corrupt politicians with hard to prove kickbacks and ‘commissions’ and are mostly for show. In South Africa’s case the infamous arms deal was, with hindsight, driven by corrupt kickbacks, and I have argued in the past that without an "eye in the sky" AWAC system, South Africa’s Gripen fleet is also restricted to a fraction of its true capability in terms of command and control and the exercise of true air superiority through data linking.

“All this meant that when the invasion started, the Russian air force was incapable of running a well-thought-out, complex campaign. Instead of working to control the skies, Russia’s air force has mostly provided air support to ground troops or bombed Ukrainian cities. In this it has followed the traditional tactics of a continental power that privileges land forces. Focusing on ground troops can work if you have almost endless numbers of soldiers and are prepared to lose them. But so wedded is Russia to its history of successes on the ground that it fails to understand the importance of airpower.”

Some of the many derelict Su-25s and Su-22s at Catumbela in Angola.

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A Nigerian Air Force Beetle at the NAF flying school in Kaduna.

David A. Deptula, a retired U.S. Air Force lieutenant general, notes, “Russia has never fully appreciated the use of airpower beyond support to ground forces. As a result, Russia, in all its wars, has never conceived of or run a strategic air campaign.” “Russian aircraft are instead left flying their straightforward missions, many of which use single aircraft without the mutual support from combined air operations that would be expected in an advanced NATO air force. The pilots are given a target; fly in quickly to attack it, in many cases relying on unguided munitions to try to hit their target; and then fly out and try to not get shot down. They are not allowed to act flexibly within their commanders’ intent to achieve a mission. They have task orders and they execute them, come what may.” It is ironic that it is the classic challenges of asymmetric warfare that the Russians for long sponsored in Africa which have been their biggest problem in the Ukraine. O’Brien and Stringer note, “Of course, the most important reason for the failure of Russian airpower, and the evident caution of Russian pilots, has been Ukrainian opposition…. The Ukrainians have integrated a range of air and anti-air capabilities to stymie the much larger Russian air force. Starting with cheap, handheld,

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portable surface-to-air missiles, the Ukrainians have been able to restrict Russian airpower to a few eastern and southern areas, greatly limiting Russian freedom of manoeuvre. “The addition of much more potent, and longerrange, S-300 missile systems from Slovakia makes the Russians even more vulnerable. The threat of the S-300s forces individual Russian aircraft, which generally lack refuelling, electronic-warfare, and command-and-control support, to fly low to the ground to screen themselves from attack. This, in turn, makes them more vulnerable to the handheld surface-to-air missiles. Ukraine cannot target every Russian aircraft, but it has cleverly used what it has to ensure that Russian pilots worry they might be targeted anywhere, forcing them to behave more defensively and reducing their effectiveness. “Ukraine’s ability to contest its airspace has not only provided protection to its own forces, but also allowed it to occasionally go on the offensive. Early in the war, the Ukrainians were able to use Turkishmade Bayraktar drones to attack some high-value targets. The Ukrainians have also used drones to identify and destroy Russian ground-to-air missiles, making Russian ground forces more vulnerable to attack from above.”

A sorry sight - some of the NAF's un-maintained RV-6s.

Elsewhere in The Atlantic, in a fascinating classic lesson in military history, O’Brien and Stringer write, “Let me tell you a story about a military that was supposedly one of the best in the world. This military had some of the best equipment: the heaviest and most modern tanks, next-generation aircraft, and advanced naval vessels. It had invested in modernisation, and made what were considered some of Europe’s most sophisticated plans for conflict. Moreover, it had planned and trained specifically for a war it was about to fight, a war it seemed extremely well prepared for and that many, perhaps most, people believed it would win. “All of these descriptions could apply to the Russian army that invaded Ukraine last month. But I’m talking about the French army of the 1930s. That French force was considered one of the finest on the planet. Winston Churchill believed that it represented the world’s best hope for keeping Adolf Hitler’s Nazi Germany at bay. As he said famously in 1933, and repeated a number of times afterward, “Thank God for the French army.” “Of course, when this French army was actually tested in battle, it was found wanting. Germany conquered France in less than two months in 1940. All of the French military’s supposed excellence in equipment and doctrine was useless. A range of problems, including poor logistics, terrible communications, and low morale, beset an army in which soldiers and junior officers complained

of inflexible, top-down leadership. In 1940, the French had the “best” tank, the Char B-1. With its 75-mm gun, the Char B-1 was better armed than any German tank, and it outclassed the Germans in terms of armour protection as well. But when the Battle of France started, the Char B-1 exhibited a number of major handicaps, such as a gas-guzzling engine and mechanical unreliability. “Having good equipment and good doctrine reveals little about how an army will perform in a war. To predict that, you must analyse not only its equipment and doctrine, but also its ability to undertake complex operations, its unglamorous but crucial logistical needs and structure, and the commitment of its soldiers to fight and die in the specific war being waged. Most important, you have to think about how it will perform when a competent enemy fires back. As Mike Tyson so eloquently put it, “Everyone has a plan until they are punched in the mouth.” The lesson for Africa – particularly its oil-based economy states, is that having an expensive new air force is no guarantee of success if you don’t have the right training and support systems in place. These are not glamourous capabilities – and over time they are even more expensive than the acquisition cost of air show aircraft. 

FlightCom: June 2022

PILOTS LAURA MCDERMID

IRIS – IN THE SUDAN PART

TWO

Laura McDermid continues her stories of Iris McCallum’s flying exploits in East Africa

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like the rest of the day to think about it”? Asked Dave Leonard, the chief pilot at Safari Air.

KNEW THAT THE EXTRA 100 U$D per day offered by Dave to entice us had been unnecessary. I glanced at my best friend Heather Stewart. Her hazel eyes were twinkling with excitement and anticipation, a look that I knew all too well. “We’ve made up our minds Dave, we are going to Lokichogio,” I said. Dave had been approached by a branch of the United Nations called ‘Operation Lifeline Sudan’, who were interested in hiring our services. Safari Air was the first company in East Africa to acquire turbine aircraft and the U.N. needed fast planes and experienced pilots to assist with their missions into Sudan.

Lokichogio (Loki for short) is 16 NM from the international border with South Sudan and about 169 NM from the capital, Juba. It is close to the Nile, on which barges clustered like a flotilla of prehistoric reptiles. Due to land mines and rebel attacks, supplies often didn’t get through by road, making the barges a more reliable form of transport.

The sweat ran down her face, dripping into our dinner

What would come to be known as the ‘Second Sudanese Civil War’ had broken out in 1983 between the central Sudanese government and a guerrilla movement known as the Sudan People’s Liberation Army (SPLA). The country had declared

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a state of emergency and, as with any war, casualties were escalating.

Loki had an 800m airstrip, making it a strategic location for many NGOs. The Red Cross built its field hospital there and it was for these reasons that Operation Lifeline Sudan was setting up a base there.

Heather was the first to fly to Loki, in the company’s Cessna 402A 5Y-AMD, while I remained in Nairobi to help run our charter operations from the head office at Wilson Airport. It was decided that Heather and I would work in relays of ten days each, during which time we’d easily rack up 100 hours, after which we’d fly the

The floodplains of the Sudd.

planes back to Nairobi for their Mandatory Periodic Inspections (MPI), allowing us to catch up on muchneeded R&R. When it was my turn to relieve Heather I packed a kit bag, my trusty cooler box, and various supplies into the light twin C404 and covered the 491NM in a comfortable 2.3 hours. This was a brand new adventure for me as I’d never been so far north and I was fascinated by this country, that only 100 years ago had been part of the Ottoman Empire. Before Sudan had officially been divided into North and South it was the largest country in Africa. In my fertile imagination, Khartoum was the place of legends conjuring up scenes from Arabian Nights. The rust-red murram strip stood out in stark relief against the granite hillocks at whose foothills the ‘town’ of Lokichagio squatted. I parked the Cessna next to the sun-bleached

Bedouin tent that housed the Red Cross’s Twin Otter. While I waited for my lift, I refuelled, making sure that she was ready for Heather to fly back to Nairobi the following morning. “Welcome to the thriving metropolis of Shitville Iris,” Heather teased. The camp was rudimentary, to say the least. It consisted of a few canvas army tents dotted around a central mess tent. Scrawny goats and chickens were scratching in the dust, oblivious to their fate. The heat was a stifling 45 degrees Celsius. I gratefully sipped on an ice-cold amber brew while slumped in a fold-up canvas chair in the mess tent. I was hypnotized by the Turkana cook who was vigorously stirring the standard fare of cabbage and beans over glowing coals in a three-legged cast-iron pot. She was not a small woman, her thick arms wielded a wooden spoon almost as tall as her. The sweat ran down her moon face in rivulets, dripping into our dinner. She caught me looking at her and grinned until her eyes disappeared in folds of flesh.

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PILOTS My reverie was broken by a radio operator who came running in. “Heather, sorry for interrupting but we have lost contact with our convoy.”

Heather skilfully followed the twists and turns of the road below her. She turned to me, a massive grin splitting her face. “Isn’t this fun Iris!”

That morning a Land Rover and two heavily laden lorries had left to take supplies up north. “Please will you look for them as we fear that they may have been ambushed.”

The exhilaration on my face said it all. Goats scattered in every direction, the small boys herding them running away from the aeroplane as though their lives depended on it, which a few months ago they had, as this area had been attacked by aerial cluster bombs, decimating everything in their path.

We sped back to the airfield. Heather took the left seat in 5Y-AMD whilst I settled in the right. Despite my 3000 hours, I always felt more like an apprentice when flying with Heather – like a bright but inexperienced student in the shadow of a master. This was a good opportunity for her to show me the area. There was only one Jeep track that wound its way north out of Loki which Heather now followed. She stayed 30’ above the ground, skimming the tops of the acacia trees. This was a tactical decision as it was a lot more difficult to shoot at an aircraft so low. The higher up you were, the easier to see and hear from further away. A huge herd of Ugandan Kob antelope plunged in flight before the shadow of our wings. As the herd ran, it became a moving carpet of russet.

Torit is a typical Sudanese town.

18 FlightCom: June 2022

Twenty minutes into the flight we spotted the convoy. The men were standing on the roofs of the lorries, frantically waving their arms. We circled overhead and radioed back to camp reporting that we had found them. It transpired that the local Taposa tribes had mistaken the convoy for rebels and had fired at them with AK47s. They had shot out the windshield of the Land Rover but the brave driver merely ducked below the dashboard and maintained his path by looking through the front grille, guiding them safely out of range. Fortunately, no one was harmed Heather left the next morning as scheduled and I was now PIC. I was given instructions to fly north into Sudan to Pibor Post to take some U.N. delegates to

meet with Commander Ayun - a power-hungry, ruthless despot who despised foreigners.

The pilot’s Handbook of Sudan strips.

I spent a few hours planning my flight, neatly drawing the route on my map. The flight time was 1hr 30 minutes at 180KT - presuming no major head or tailwinds. I added the 3 degrees of variation. Admittedly not much, but it was the difference between success or failure in the absence of modern aids. The route from Loki to Pibor was flat, swampy, and featureless with absolutely no land marks to time myself by. This meant that I had only my compass and my watch; maintaining the correct heading would be critical. We were issued with a photostatted directory of the airstrips in Sudan compiled by pilots over the years. They were crudely drawn pictures of the runways with bearings and a few annotations - basic but indispensable. It was disconcerting before a proposed flight to find that in many cases the bulk of the terrain over which you had to fly was marked ‘uncharted’. This made it essential for a pilot either to develop an intuitive sense to the highest degree, or to adopt a fatalistic philosophy towards life. The things an instructor is unable to teach beyond the simple mechanics of flying are those things that have not lent themselves to words. Intuition and instinct are mysteries still; and are the subtleties that separate pilots from aviators. Flying over The Sudd is unforgettable. You cannot appreciate the scope of the swampy, floating islands, unless viewed from above. My flight time had almost elapsed before I spied the stones marking the pitch-black landing strip. Even from up high it looked treacherous, and as I lowered the undercarriage I prayed that it would be strong enough. The seasonal April rains had begun and the black cotton soil could be spongy and clingy. And as I was on final approach, I realised that the runway condition was far worse than I’d anticipated.

Being unfenced, cattle congregated there in the evenings, their legs sinking into the black soil up to their fetlocks, leaving divots in their wake. The incredible heat had leached the moisture out of the soil and hardened it to the consistency of cement. I took three notches of flap and slowed to just above stall speed. Despite my gentle landing, the Cessna bucked and bounced over the pock-marked ground like a wild bronco, before finally shuddering to a halt. I helped my passengers disembark and they left for their meeting. I checked the undercarriage, which incredibly was still in one piece. Then I began to walk the length of the strip, looking for a better line for takeoff. This is where your skill as a bush-pilot matters, as the takeoff rolls from bush strips are often more difficult than landings. Added to that, I had to learn how to perfect bush flying with a sleek, non-bush aircraft.

FlightCom: June 2022

PILOTS When the passengers returned, I performed my checks and guided the plane to the starting point I’d identified. I opened the throttles and the C402 gamely bounced over the ground once more. From Pibor I flew directly north to Nasir. The crumpled skeleton of a MiG gave the location of the runway away. By now it was mid-day and vapours rose upwards in visible waves from the rocky airstrip, making the landing very bumpy again. Whilst the delegates were whisked away, I decided to fill in some of the deeper holes and clear as many stones as I could from the runway. Within minutes hundreds of emaciated locals materialised out of thin air, clamouring around me. Many of them were adorned with pieces of metal crudely fashioned into ornaments. It slowly dawned on me that the unfortunate Russian fighter plane had been repurposed into jewellery!

Before I departed, I covered the floor of 5Y-AMD with sheets of plastic. This was to protect the plane from fluids that leaked from the diseased and the wounded. The route was to the west, over a range of mountains cloaked in gigantic mahogany trees. Having flown over flat swamps until now, the change in scenery was spectacular; however, I had to stay well clear of the highest peak, which was over 10,000 ft. The mission was built in a valley and the approach to runway 33 was tricky. Once above the strip, I circled overhead to indicate that I was ‘friendly’. There were five wounded, one of which was an old woman. Her skin had shrunk tightly over her skull and her eyes sunk into the sockets, resembling a desiccated mummy.

The stench of gangrene overwhelmed the cockpit

Nothing in the world could cause me the agony I felt when the beseeching eyes of starving children looked to me for help. This was without a doubt the worst part of my job. I vented my impotence by vigorously hurling stones aside. The locals began emulating me and within minutes the strip was cleared of obstacles. As I headed to the plane a wave of nausea washed over me. My unruly curls were plastered flat against my scalp and I realised that I was dehydrated. I was shaking so violently that I knew I needed water before I passed out. I hastened the departure and on the climb I reached for my thermos-flask, adding a sachet of electrolytes. I took a deep gulp, it mattered little that the water was tepid and brackish, at that moment it was the best thing I’d ever tasted! A few days later I flew to a mission station at Torit which had been bombed by the SPLA. I was to collect the wounded and fly them to the Red Cross hospital.

20 FlightCom: June 2022

I tried not to recoil from her damp, feverish skin as I helped her into the aircraft. The stench of gangrene overwhelmed the small space, making me gag. I dug in my pocket for the small tin that all rescue pilots couldn’t be without, and rubbed some Vicks under my nose. It didn’t entirely obscure the smell, but it made it bearable. A week later I visited the patients in the hospital. I’d expected to be told that the old lady had died, but she was very much alive and was in her twenties! Her skin had regained its ebony sheen and her brown eyes, which were previously listless, now held a spark of hope. Her leg had been amputated, but at least she was finally free of the terrible pain. What struck me with each rescue mission is that even in this crucible of human depravity, some measure of hope survives. I knew I’d probably never see the woman again, but at least she had a second chance at life. I didn’t know their names and often couldn’t speak their tongue, but we all shared the common thread of humanity. And that was enough for me. 

BUMPPPFFF:

When clearing the runway during the wildbeest migration becomes a problem

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✗ ✗ ✗ ✗

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Rudi

Wonderboom Airport

083 422 9882

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Belinda

Valhalla

079 636 9860

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Alexander

Athlone Park

031 904 7460

dex.duplessis@intercare.co.za

Erasmus

Philip

Benoni

011 849 6512

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031 566 2066/7 deena@drdg.co.za

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011 315 5817

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Mossel Bay

044 693 1470

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Opperman

Chris

Pretoria Lynnwood

012 368 8800

chris.opperman@intercare.co.za

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Rand Airport & JHB CBD

083 679 0777

stant@global.co.za

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Hendrik

White River, Nelspruit

013 751 3848

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FlightCom: June 2022

BY JOHN BASSI: PART

HOW LIFE CHANGED FOR ALL HUMANS.

Those first 14 days of the lockdown were filled with confusing silence and uncertainty, waiting and hoping for some kind of respite.

OMEHOW THE SACAA’S total ban on aviation, along with the conflicting messages about who can fly and how to get clearances for essential services, drove the reality of imprisonment home deeper. My Bell 206 JetRanger Romeo Kilo Papa, taunted me, I felt sorry for her sitting outside getting blasted by the South Easter through rain and sun, but she was there. A piece of something real to remind me of who I was. During that time, keeping RKP serviceable by oiling the blades and engine components, lubricating and cleaning, smelling the familiar smell of Jet A1 and leather seats, kept me going. Then, the ultimate high, pressing the start button to lubricate bearings, hearing the compressor whine, ignitors clicking. Feeling her come alive, with a vigour and energy, fed my soul.

The solitude and silence weighed heavier. By day 20, I was completely over the endless bombardment of lies which got worse with hyped Covid 19 disinformation through media disinformation, itself becoming a disease. I was fatigued by the stream of over used jokes and desperate humour on WhatsApp, and done with the expressionless zombie people with masks standing metres apart in queues at the shops. I hated the shops with cordoned off sections and streams of danger tape denoting all the banned “non-essential” items, and I felt like swearing at the police lurking around every corner. This new world around me rapidly stoked my inner desperation into a furnace of mindnumbing anger.

I eyed the Jet Range r longingly

Hilariously, I expected the police to suddenly appear. I had feelings of guilt that fluttered over feelings of defiance.

22 FlightCom: June 2022

Hanging, trapped, my paradise became my enemy, dread engulfed me, how to face another day, another night, each blending into more nothingness. Wall’s closing in on me, pacing like a caged animal, my brain imploding. Despair swamping my soul, incredulous that the entire human race was locked up. Everywhere had fallen silent.

Lockdown blues with RKP, just itching to escape but grounded by CAA.

My thoughts ran wild; how I had gone from an active and involved helicopter pilot, out there, free, flying without a second thought, criss-crossing the country, part of a team, part of a machine with so many vital people supporting and working together for such (seemingly) important duties. Conservation projects plan ahead. Wildlife crimes and projects don’t care about lockdown. The freedom of being out and away for months at a time, working, living; how can that all just stop?

The novelty of so much free time at home to indulge myself in nourishing my soul with whatever I wanted was wearing thin. I had binged on Netflex, painstakingly painted and assembled Airfix plastic models of the Douglas DC3, Bell 212, P51 Lightning and a huge De Havilland Mosquito.

the lies became tr uths and the tr uths became lies .

My purpose, my reason for being, my identity… gone, taken away by something unknown and invisible. How could I go from being so incredibly active… to nothing? No more point to anything?

My garden was as trim as a woman fresh from the hairdresser and my home was as clean and shiny as a hospital surgery.

I eyed the JetRanger again, longingly, my freedom, but even that was taboo and taken away. A lifeless metal object, sitting on skids, but her sleek lines and little pointy nose a reminder of the aircraft’s abilities. The SACAA had still not lifted the blanket ban on all aviation.

FlightCom: June 2022

Acting like a criminal, I decided to hover for a while. I felt like a naughty child untying the main rotor blade, removing the covers and performing a pre-flight. Then, sitting in the pilot’s seat I found myself switching over to instinctive pilot mode, yet with a guilt that probably felt like it must feel if one had just murdered somebody. I kept glancing around half expecting Zuma’s security police to surround me with automatic weapons.

Passing the days building model aeroplanes.

I pressed the start button, the ignitors clicked as the compressor whined. I may as well have been injecting my veins with a drug, my nostrils flared and my lungs desperately breathed in the Jet A1 fumes as the turbine came back to life. For a moment I was free again and felt purpose flowing through my body. I opened the throttle to full power and every cell in me came alive, the urge to escape into the sky almost overwhelming. Instead, I let the machine run long enough to recharge the battery and lubricate all the bearings and O-rings to keep the helicopter in running condition. Reluctantly I shut down. Elation slipped away as the silence returned. I looked back at the now sleeping, tied down and closed up machine. Back to the nothingness. Every day I wandered off “illegally” into my back garden, into the mountains, into a world of surreal silence, the only sounds were my own footsteps, my own breath and the chirps, whistles and rattles from 24 FlightCom: June 2022

birds whose songs would be intermittently blanked out from the rustling fynbos in the wind. Each day I ventured out searching for and collecting a wild flower. Each one was a priceless treasure that I would rush home with and paint, adding it to a page that became more alive with colour each day. This was my way of ticking away days, like a prisoner marking lines on his cell wall. Measures were finally being put in place for “essential services”, however attempting to motivate flying permits from an inoperative CAA with rigor mortis was pathetic. To this day I doubt that anyone managed to get an answer or information from the SACAA “hot line contact”.

Miraculously, the Government allowed conservation and wildlife management services to continue as essential services.

down. How could this be possible? The conspiracy theories began and the lies became truths and the truths became lies.

Receiving my Government Permit felt like a stay of execution, the smallest glimmer of hope to hang onto in the form of a piece of paper, even though there was no sign of flying duties. This permission was followed by the usual CAA paper monster in the form of compiling a Covid 19 Compliance Company Operations manual and a set of new operating rules.

My phone rang, I pounced on it like a hunting spider attacking its prey, a familiar name flashed on the screen, “Hello John, are you available and can you fly?”

Thirty six days. Marking off lines with painted flowers had by now long ended. Romeo Kilo Papa sat there clinging to the ground through the worst South Easter winds, a motionless silver grey and white object, almost as dead as my own heart. Was this all a dream? I had to keep pushing my brain to comprehend that the entire World had shut

I burst out laughing with incredulous disbelief, then realised I was standing blankly, I needed to gather myself and get my act together. It took a while for me to mentally go through the necessary actions to get going, but instinct soon took over. Muscle memory is an incredible thing, however I soon realised the importance of merging the mental present and the conscious seriousness of focusing on the task ahead. I double checked myself, then with such elation and sense of purpose, gently raised the collective releasing the throbbing beast back into the freedom of the sky. The beautiful blue sky, heading directly for Cape Point. 

Cape Point at lockdown, just me and the sky. Looking north imagining the world of people locked away was incomprehensible.

FlightCom: June 2022

NEWS

FLIGHT

INSPECTION SYMPOSIUM –

AFRICA’S FIRST

For the first time the International Flight Inspection Symposium (IFIS) will be hosted on the African continent. The South African Civil Aviation Authority (CAA) is the host for this prestigious event. THE IFIS IS A BIENNIAL SYMPOSIUM which draws top flight inspection specialists from around the world. This year it will have a truly African feel. The South African CAA is managing the event, to be held in Durban, Kwa-Zulu Natal over five days from 20 to 24 June 2022. Director of the CAA, Ms Poppy Khoza said, “We are honoured to have been selected to host this prestigious symposium. IFIS brings together major stakeholders in global aviation in one event. It is the

26 FlightCom: June 2022

perfect platform for leading organisations to spread their footprint across the African continent through networking opportunities.” “This will be the first aviation event that the city of eThekwini hosts that brings attendees from around the world together. Such aviation events and exhibitions could become an annual event in the future to the great economic benefit of the City,” Khoza said.

NEWS SACAA Director Ms Poppy Khoza is hosting the biennial IFIS symposium.

Flight Inspection technology is advancing at a rapid pace – particularly with the development of Global Navigation Satellite Systems (GNSS) and recent interference with GNSS signals. WHAT IS IFIS? The IFIS is primarily a communications mechanism that promotes a better understanding of the technologies and environmental issues that impact global flight inspection operations. IFIS also serves as a means to enhance the international credibility of the International Committee for Airspace Standards and Calibration (ICASC) as the only truly representative body that coordinates and safeguards the interests of the global flight inspection community. The IFIS provides a credible international forum that highlights the interests of the international flight inspection community and promotes the free exchange of ideas relating to flight inspection in general. The IFIS provides a means for the orderly dissemination, retention and safekeeping of relevant flight inspection information that is made available during the biennial meetings. The IFIS also provides a forum for the exchange of highly specialized technical information dealing with aviation systems operations and their impact on flight safety.

The discussions and presentations, concerning procedures, techniques, training, equipment etc., that focus on the calibration and maintenance of the navigational signals and procedures, aim to promote a better understanding between the various industry stakeholders. The ICASC must therefore secure a viable cadre of volunteers who understand the purpose of the IFIS event and have the requisite knowledge, skills, leadership, resources and determination to host such a professional international seminar. The SACAA plays key in this regard, in addition to providing all the key organisational services to host the symposium. 

FlightCom: June 2022

INTERNATIONAL FLIGHT INSPECTION SYMPOSIUM

20–24 J U N E 2 02 2

International Convention Centre, Durban, South Africa Join us for this global event, hosted by the South African Civil Aviation Authority (SACAA)! IFIS provides a platform to exchange information on technological and environmental issues that impact Global Flight Inspection Operations. We will explore various topics presented by renowned speakers across the Aviation Industry, and you can be part of this exciting symposium. Some of the focus areas are: • Influence of New 5G Communication Interference on Flight Inspection - Mr. Rolf Seide (Germany) • Human Factors and CRM: Increasing efficiency and managing errors within flight inspection mission by improving non-technical skills - Ms. Andrea Gioia (Italy) • Reducing the risk of bird strikes for low-level Flight Operations Ms. Isabel C Metz (Switzerland), Mr. Markus Schwendener (Germany) • Flight Inspection crew safety and emergency procedures training -Mr. Vincent Rocchia (France) • Radio Frequency Interference (RFI) - Euiho Kim (South Korea) And many more… To register for IFIS, go to the IFIS website at https://ifissa.co.za. For General or Technical Enquiries, contact Mr Christo Van Straaten on VanStraatenC@caa.co.za or Contact Mr Nishan Singh on Singhs@caa.co.za for sponsorships and exhibition opportunities.

IFIS 2022 is here … REGISTER NOW!!!

MEET OUR SPONSORS SIGNATURE SPONSOR GOLD SPONSOR

GOLD SPONSOR

SILVER SPONSOR

Host:

28 FlightCom: June 2022

In collaboration with:

NEWS

BOMBARDIER’S GLOBAL

8000 CONFIRMED

AT EBACE 2022 BOMBARDIER announced that it is going to build its long-awaited Global 8000. This Global 8000 is claimed to be the fastest and longest-range purpose-built business jet in the industry with the capabilities to fly 8,000 nm and a top speed of Mach 0.94, although not at the same time. An upgrade on the Global 7500, the Global 8000 will use the same fuselage as its predecessor, which it will eventually replace. The $78 million Global 8000 will have entry-intoservice in 2025. The upgrades will be available to Global 7500 customers beginning in 2025. Flight testing is being performed with a Global 7500 flight test aircraft, FTV5, with the call sign “the Masterpiece.” The programme is developing as planned, the company says. “The Global 7500 has done everything we promised and much more, and we’re not stopping here,” Bombardier president and CEO Eric Martel said at the launch announcement.

The Global 8000 will compete with Dassault’s Falcon 10X and Gulfstream’s G800. The Falcon 10X has a 7,500-nm range and a top speed of Mach 0.925, while Gulfstream’s G8000 has an 8,000-nm range at Mach 0.85 and a top speed of Mach 0.925. The company announced the Global 8000 at the same time as the Global 7500 but Bombardier said at the time that they would wait until after the Global 7500 was in service to move forward with the Global 8000. “Today, Bombardier solidifies once more its position as the leader in business aviation with the newest member of the industry-leading Global family,” Martel said. “The Global 8000 aircraft leverages the outstanding attributes of the Global 7500 aircraft, providing our customers with a flagship aircraft of a new era. We remain unmatched, which for an innovation-focused team like us is great.”

The aircraft will be able to fly nonstop from Dubai to Houston, Singapore to Los Angeles, London to Perth, Australia, and Bombardier is going ahead with its Global 8000. other destinations.

In a demonstration and test flight to take the aircraft beyond its limits for certification, test pilots repeatedly broke the sound barrier with speeds of more than Mach 1.015, key to enabling the aircraft to reach its maximum Mach operating speed, the company says. The flights took place May 18, 2021, in Santa Maria, California. The aircraft was accompanied by a NASA F/A chase aircraft confirming the performance. The supersonic flight was flown using sustainable aviation fuel, a first for a Transport Category aircraft, the company says. “The Global 8000 will be the fastest civil airplane since the Concorde,” the company says.

The Global 8000 will have a low cabin altitude of 2,900 ft. when flying at 41,000 ft. It also will be equipped with Bombardier’s Pur Air and advanced HEPA filter technology. The aircraft will feature a four-zone cabin with personalized suites and incorporate features found in the Global 7500, including Soleil circadian lighting to help combat jet lag, Nuage seats with zero gravity positions, and, in the En Suite, a full-size bed and stand-up shower. The cockpit will be equipped with the Bombardier Vision flight deck with fly-by-wire technology and a blend of avionics with “exceptional ergonomics and aesthetics for remarkable comfort and control.” 

FlightCom: June 2022

FAX NO

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GEORGE AIRPORT j j jjjjjjj j j j

GRAND CENTRAL KRUGERSDORP

LANSERIA AIRPORT / RANDBURG

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If it can’t stand the heat, get it out of the engine. Higher tempretures and faster degradation can cause unwanted carbon to accumulate, which blocks filters and oil tubes. Modern turbine engines require hard working oils that can withstand these temperatures and improve performance. Can your oil beat the heat? Contact us today and enquire about our range of AeroShell Turbine Engine products: www.atlasaviation.co.za sales@atlasaviation.co.za (011) 917 4220

FlightCom: June 2022

AMO LISTING

FAX NO

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CODE TEL NO

CAPE TOWN

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NAME OF AMO

Fixed Wing Helicopter Avionics Piston Engines Turbine Engines Propellers Weight / Balance Paint

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Fixed Wing Helicopter Avionics Piston Engines Turbine Engines Propellers Weight / Balance Paint