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Flag of Australia.
In 1989, over a wage dispute, almost all the
airline pilots in Australia literally walked off the job. Abruptly the Australian Government’s ban on
Singapore Airlines flying domestic services was lifted. Much to my regret I found myself flying to,
and between, and laying-over at these cities in the land of “Oz”: Adelaide, Brisbane, Darwin,
Melbourne, Perth and Sydney.
The three years I engaged in this activity was one colossal bore. Why was that you ask, dear reader? First of all, when night-stopping in any of
these cities, I could never get a decent meal.
Everything was tasteless, bland and flat. It seemed as if the Aussies still thought all
spices and flavorings were being war-rationed.
And after my terrible meal, what was there to do for entertainment? I was given a choice of two activities:
either stand in a pub (not allowed to sit) holding a warm beer while listening
to the locals bitch and whine, or catch an American film.
And then there was the problem of fumigating our 747 upon arrival, and
not allowing us to get off the aircraft, until it and all the crew were
properly poisoned.
In addition, upon occasion, when returning to Singapore, we made the disappointing
discovery that all of our bags had remained in Australia...because the Aussie baggage
handlers were on strike.
Let’s face it, dear reader, a culture that prefers flat food, warm beer,
bitching and whining, and going on strike, simply wasn’t my cup of tea.
On a layover in Brisbane I went to a game park and got introduced to
kangaroos, koalas, and a very nasty Tasmanian Devil.
Despite all this, there was one episode I discovered to be quite
interesting in this land of “Down Under.” It occurred at Sydney.
Were you aware of the fact, dear reader, that so far there have been
five films depicting the “Mutiny” on “His
Majesty’s Armed Vessel Bounty” (H.M.A.V.
Bounty)?
#1. “The Mutiny of the Bounty,” an Australian silent film made in 1916.
#2. “In the Wake of the Bounty,” (1933): Another Australian production
starring that Tasmanian actor, Errol Flynn, in his film debut.
#3. “Mutiny on the
Bounty” (1935): Starring Clark Gable and
Charles Laughton.
#4. “Mutiny on
the Bounty” (1962): Starring Marlon
Brando and Trevor Howard.
And then we come to the fifth film; merely entitled: “The Bounty”
- fraught with its own drama and distress. Director David lean and Writer Robert Bolt
struggled with the project from 1977 to 1980.
Lean lost his backing when Warner Brothers withdrew, and Bolt almost
lost his life from the stress, suffering a heart attack and stroke. For a while the project was dead in the water
(pardon the pun). However, new life, and
loads of money, revived the project; sailing out of the doldrums and being
released in 1984; starring Mel Gibson and Anthony Hopkins.
There is a tourist area on the south edge of Sydney Harbor known as “The
Rocks.” This was the site of the first
European settlement in 1788, largely built from the local sandstone, thence its
name. It evolved to a slum, frequented
by transient sailors, hookers and tough gangs (my kind of place), until it
developed bubonic plague in 1900.
Prompting the government to knock it flat and begin again.
When I first conducted my exploration of it, in 1988, I encountered one immense tourist trap, full of chic boutiques, art galleries, pubs and restaurants (not my kind of place).
During my expedition though, I happened upon an unbelievable sight. At the south base of the Harbor Bridge,
across Sydney Cove from the Opera House (which always reminded me of a gigantic,
vertical stack of clam shells) resides Campbell's Cove Jetty. Moored at the dock was an 18th
century, three-masted, 138-foot, armed, square-rigged sailing barque; of the
type pirates employed! Perhaps they needed
another buccaneer. With great haste I
ran towards my destiny.
Upon reaching the dock, I explored this 18th century vessel
from bow to stern; mouth agape at the 11-mile jungle of thick ropes and rigging,
enormous wooden blocks, canon ports, and three massive timbered masts with their
yards bearing furled canvas sails. In my
mind I could see myself pacing the deck - flintlock pistol stuck in “me” belt and
drawn cutlass – champing at the bit to engage in pirating. That is until I reached the stern and perceived
the barque’s identity, in thickly-raised, yellow wooden letters: “BOUNTY.”
Inadvertently, I had stumbled across Director David Lean’s 4,000,000-dollar
nightmare. This was the replica for the
movie, “The Bounty,” he had built in New Zealand. It was a faithful reproduction, apart from a
steel hull, plus twin, 415-horsepower, diesel engines, and the lack of a
topgallant on the mizzenmast. Other than
that it’s the real deal; exactly like the “Bounty” Fletcher Christian and his fellow mutineers burnt and sank off
Pitcairn.
11 miles of rope on this “Bounty”: during the 1700’s hemp was the number one export from the American Colonies – producing rope, sails and paper. It was also smoked.
Using the diesel engines, our vessel backed away from the dock and into
Sydney Cove – then chugged forward to the heart of Sydney Harbor. The engines were properly sound-proofed, and
I couldn’t detect any engine vibration in the ship’s wooden deck – we glided on
the water smoothly and quietly.
It was a glorious afternoon on the world’s greatest natural harbor,
which sprawls towards the Blue Mountains to the west. We motored at a “blistering” seven knots all
the way to that monumental harbor’s east end, then shut down the diesels, and
turned the ship 180 degrees to point west as the crew unfurled all sails. A ten-knot wind from the east filled those
sails – pushing us silently back across the harbor.
I glanced at the skipper behind the ship’s wheel; he motioned for me to
come over. Setting down my tea, I joined
him. He asked me if I’d wish to “steer?” I jumped at the chance. Standing behind me, placing my hands on the
wheel, he pointed to the west and said, “Head for ‘The Coat Hanger’.” Then quite bravely stepped away, leaving me
all alone to my own devices.
The ginormous wooden ship’s wheel came up to my chest, its axel wound in
fat spools of rope, which then ran in a triangle through huge wooden blocks and
proceeded to the outsized, wooden beam of the rudder’s tiller – in plain view
above decks. Occasionally, I’d look behind
me to note its position.
Surprisingly, as the bow drifted off course and I turned the wheel to
correct it, I found there was little resistance. The wheel turned easily and
smoothly, despite all the tons of wood and heavy ropes it was moving.
The sole difficulty I experienced was impatience. When I turned the wheel – at first nothing
would happen – I’d wait – still nothing.
Then I’d turn the wheel more – all at once the bow would swing – over-correcting
our course. Finally it penetrated “me”
noggin; I was attempting to move 400 tons of ship. Therefore, when I made a correction, I’d
simply force myself to wait a bit longer to get a response. After that it was a piece of cake under full
sail; what the old sea dogs call “smooth sailing.”
Later that evening, over a pint of Foster’s at one of The Rocks’ oldest surviving pubs, “Fortune of War,” I met a literary-historical type who gave me a whole new slant on the Bounty’s Mutiny. According to him, Bligh and Christian were the best of friends and had made voyages together before they sailed on the Bounty. Plus, while they were on the Bounty, Bligh demoted another officer and promoted Christian, who was at that stage nothing more than a midshipman, and made him second in command. All was well, until they made port at Tahiti, and Christian fell in love with a native girl.
From that point on Bligh and Christian’s
“friendship” deteriorated – consequently leading to Christian’s mutiny. Could it possibly be that the mutiny was
actually a lover’s spat between Bligh and Christian?
Let’s face it, men crammed together for
sweaty months at a time - in the cramped world of oak, rope and canvas - could subsequently
lead to many a strange bedfellow. Henceforth,
I’m dropping this theory squarely in your lap, dear reader. If your research uncovers anything else along
this line...don’t hesitate to let me know...pro or con.
Being the world's smallest continent, but the sixth-largest
country in the world, the population of Australia is concentrated along the
eastern and southeastern coasts. On a
flight from Singapore to Sydney, we’d depart at night, and arrive the next
morning around 7:15 A.M. – after a nonstop flying time of 7:24.
All I can recall of these flights is droning hour after hour across the
great Australian “Fuck-All” (the outback).
Whereby, from the cockpit, it appeared as this endless black hole from
which no light whatsoever could escape.
On one trip we were routed west of Alice Springs at 33,000 feet. After the sun came up, I glanced out my side window and spied Ayers Rock – appearing as an angry carbuncle.
It was while conducting one of these tedious night flights - on 26th October 1989 - that Presidential Airways filed for bankruptcy.
The following 5th of December they closed their doors for good. Once again I had managed to dodge the “U.S. failed airline bullet,” happily enjoying my days-off on the Island of Phuket.
Sydney (Kingsford Smith) Airport
is the oldest commercial international airport in the world, and its
main runway (160°/340° magnetic, SE/NW) runs out into Botany Bay at a length of
13,000 feet. It’s a picturesque location
five miles south of the city center, where Capt. Cook dropped anchor in 1770.
on the other hand, was carrying their domestic airline load instead.
When it comes to aviation, my five years of experience operating the 747
to all of their major cities, proved to me the Aussies have really got their
ducks in a row. Their airports were easy
as pie to visit, due to their construction, and the highly efficient air
traffic controllers that safely radar vectored us.
And speaking of safety, Australia’s flag carrier, Quantas, is the safest airline in the world.
They have never injured or killed a passenger since their genesis in
1920.
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