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Flag of Malaysia.
Malaysia Airlines B-737-200.
     Patong Beach, Island of Phuket, Thailand

     Monday, 15th November 1993

     Bright and early this day I got a frantic call from AVILINK in Singapore.  They desperately needed a qualified captain to take delivery of a fourth B-737-200 that they purchased from Malaysia Airlines for the BOURAQ contract.  It seems the captain they had lined up for this chore, bailed-out on them at the last minute.  So, could I hustle my butt down to Singapore, perform the acceptance check-flight, and then ferry the bird down to Jakarta, followed by another three-month contract?

     In all honesty AVILINK had been good to me, so why not help them out of a jam?  I agreed, packed my bags and caught a flight down to Singapore the next day.

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Flag of Singapore.
     Island State of Singapore

     Wednesday, 17th November 1993

     So here I am in a suit and tie, standing on the ramp at Paya Lebar Air Base in Singapore, about to step aboard a Malaysia Airlines’ 737 bearing a freshly painted BOURAQ livery.  


Air Force One at the Paya Lebar Air Base.                                   

My 737 patiently waiting for me with a fresh coat of paint.
     I’ve got two AVILINK mechanics with me, and I’m flying with two Malaysia Airlines’ Captains – a Brit and a Malaysian.

     The mechanics have completed the acceptance preflight, meticulously checking all items both inside and outside the aircraft.  It more than passes inspection.

     We all climbed aboard, got into the air and conducted a precise shakedown flight plan, putting each mechanism on the 737 to the test.  As we climb and descend, performing all these checks, I sat on the jump seat between the two captains, and followed along with my copy of the acceptance flight plan; while the mechanics double-checked everything in the passenger cabin.

     Frankly, dear reader, this experience is a pleasant surprise.  These captains were really wringing the 737 out – genuinely attempting to discover any flaws.  Mechanically speaking, this is the cleanest 737 I’ve ever flown.  Malaysia Airlines runs a first-class operation, feel free to purchase a used aircraft from them anytime.

     Thoroughly satisfied, I signed off for this super clean 737, and accepted it on AVILINK’s behalf.

     The next day I donned my airline uniform, picked up Kevin, my Singaporean First Officer, loaded some BOURAQ Executives in first class, and launched from Paya Lebar Air Base for Jakarta, Indonesia.

My departure route from Paya Lebar Air Base, Singapore.

     One hour and Fifty-four minutes later I touched down on Runway Two-Five Right, at Soekarno-Hatta International, giving the BOURAQ VIPs one of my better landings.

Jakarta International.
     Thus, I began another three-month stint, dear reader, in the belly of the corrupt beast.

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Flag of Indonesia.

     Jakarta, Island of Java, Republic of Indonesia

     Friday, 19th November 1993

     Now that BOURAQ had four 737s, they were determined to fly them to the max; giving me not much in the way of days off.  For example, instead of operating three legs to Manado, then spending the night, presently I’m required to operate all six legs.  This meant going up and back from Jakarta to Manado in just one day, enduring over twelve hours in the air, making it a very long day.

     The other surprise was the fact that all my Australian First Officers had been sent home.  BOURAQ had replaced them with six Indonesian First Officers, and, out of the six I could perhaps let two of them fly the 737.  The other four were a dead loss, which I restricted to paperwork and preflight/post flight inspections; increasing my flying workload. 

     They all had a lot of jet-prop time but lacked a pure jet background – which meant they had a tiger by the tail – as things happened faster in the 737 than the prop-jobs.  Plus, it was the old story again of them not understanding English.  For example, let’s take my favorite First Officer by the name of Bum-Bum Rudy. 

     No, dear reader, I’m not making that name up.

     He was in his late twenty’s, and heavyset with a Hollywood pencil-thin black mustache.

     The 737’s landing gear lever has three positions: Down, Off and Up.  Upon takeoff, and with a positive indication of climb out, I’d command, “Gear up!”  The First Office would then take hold of the landing gear lever (with a clear plastic wheel on its end) and move it from the “Down” position all the way to the top or “Up” position.  He’d then wait until he “felt” the landing gear retract and see all the gear annunciator lights go out – indicating the landing gear is fully retracted and in the “Up” and “Locked” position.  After this occurs the First Officer then moved the landing gear lever to the center or “Off” position – relieving pressure on the hydraulic system.

     Departing Surabaya one morning with Bum-Bum Rudy – climbing through 3,000 feet – I happened to glance over at the landing gear lever and noticed it was still in the “Up” position.  To get F.O. Rudy’s attention, I pointed at the landing gear lever in front of him, and commanded, “Gear lever to ‘Off’.”

     Bum-Bum Rudy nodded and said, “Yes, Captain.”  However, he didn’t make a move towards the landing gear lever – it remained in the full “Up” position.

     I commanded him twice more to move the landing gear lever to “Off.”  Every time he said, “Yes, Captain,” but never moved the landing gear lever to “Off.”

     I can only conclude, dear reader, that Bum-Bum Rudy had a dodgy grasp of the English language.  Therefore why should I risk life and limb, giving this fellow a “leg” (allowing him to fly the 737) when obviously I can’t communicate with him?  Getting a warm body no better than a doorstop, is like walking a tightrope without a safety net – being all alone in the cockpit with no backup – creating a very, very long day for any worn-out 737 Captain.     

     I finally had to move the gear lever to “Off” myself.

     As for captains on the 737, BOURAQ had me, an Australian, a Singaporean and a Canadian.  They all agreed with my conclusion regarding the Indonesian First Officers.  They could read a checklist, except did they actually understand it?  Or was it merely “monkey-see, monkey-do”?

     No two ways about it, dear reader, flying with the Indonesian monkeys was going to be a tough three months.

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