Post 19: First tropical storm; stuck in Quelimane, Mozambique; Laurie Kay rides to the rescue

Friday: Zanzibar to Pemba, in Mozambique. We encounter our first tropical storm. Our little Strikefinder lighting detector earns its keep. We fly at FL65 ( 6,500ft) and give the storm a wide berth. See pictures. The Strikefinder is a simple little gizmo, a simplified Stormscope weather radar which does not cost the eye-watering sums of its big daddy.  It picks up electrical activity at up to 200 nautical miles from the aircraft in a 360-degre arc. These ‘ strikes’ appear as illuminated dots around the aircraft symbol on a 3.5 inch screen. Once the dots form into chunky clusters you know you have a thunderstorm, you know roughly where it is and how far away.  This allows you to plot a safe course away from its jaws.  Thunderstorms and big CB clouds are beautiful to behold. But they can be deadly. They deliver up (and down) drafts from deep within their core, depending on what stage of development they are at. These drafts can spread for several miles either siide of their base. They can also swallow an aircraft and spit it out again in with menacing ease.  As we leave Zanzibar we can see at least one weather system building visually ahead. Small, scattered dots appear on the Strikefinder.As we approach the clouds ahead. The dots multiply into clusters. Game on. By the time we reach Mafia island there it is, the storm’s signature anvil-top spreading like a hammer-head shark. A mysterious (to me anyway) force of nature which, in this part of the world, can be short-lived and can dissipate in 30 or 40 minutes. But  they should be treated with the utmost respect and given the widest possible berth. We plot a course well out to sea but still within gliding distance of land should our engine fail and pass in between two systems about 70 miles apart. Richard, in the Grumman, who follows the other, faster and more powerful aircraft on an inland track is forced to make a 180-degree turn north then head back towards the coast before resuming his track south. He was in danger of being sucked up by the beast. When he and Wendy land at Quelemane, a little shaken, the paint on the leading edge of his wings has been pitted and scraped by hailstones. Gritty airmanship.

Saturday: Pemba to Quelemane but not, as planned, on to Villancullo or Bazaruto island. We are cleared for a straight-in approach for runway 18 at Quelimane. One of two DC3s behind us belonging to the South African Air Force with virtually brand new turbine engines, has to go round as we trundle down final approach. I nearly wet myself with excitement. The American Douglas DC3 was first built in 1935. Its speed and range at the time revolutionsied air transport and became a key troop and meteriel carrier in World War II. It was often known as the Dakota.  Over 400 are still in operation world-wide. In my book it’s up there with Concorde, the Spitfire, the Harrier and the Catalina Flying boat as enduring icons. I first flew in one as a kid from Alexandria to Cairo up the Nile Delta.

There is an No Avgas in Quelimani. We did not have enough endurance even to reach the port of Beira further south- where there was no Avgas anyway. Two aircraft ( Martin, the flying farmer and Richard  in the Grumman) decide to top up their tanks at Quelimane with Mogas (that’s unleaded car fuel) to get them to Villancullo. They trot off into town and come back with a couple of jerry cans from a local petrol station. I decide to stay at Quelemane and find a way of getting Avgas. Lycoming engines will, if push comes to shove, take a small amount of Mogas to blend with the higher-octane Avgas. But it’s not advised. I’m too cautious and inexperienced to try it. Alpha-Charlie has carried us this far with grace and strength. And she deserves to be treated with respect. Also,should the mixture cause piston detonation,  replacing my engine could cost US$30,000. Charly and Alistair set off in FP-SCB, which can go round the world on a thimbelfull, (I exaggerate but only slightly) with the others. Uber-piloten Hemut is probably by the pool at Bazaruto Island, our original destination, with Kiwi Adam. Bernard and Derek in the Mooney are...erm..not sure. But I’ll you know as soon as I find out.

I have a Plan A and a Plan B. Plan A is for Sam to truck Avgas to us from Villancullo, an 8-hour drive. Plan B, which is being formulated as I write, is to organise my own Avgas to be flown from South Africa, 6 hours away in a light aircraft. I turn for help to Laurie Kay, a recent friend and legendary South African pilot based in Johannesburg. Now retired, he flies Harvards for a hobby. I am in the best of hands. In less time than it takes to down a couple of Zambezi beers, Laurie gets a friend who runs a charter company, to organise ( at cost) for Avgas to be flown to us in a Cessna 207 by a young pilot. The young pilot will do it pro bono. He says he needs the hours. Actually he’s doing what most pilots would do, which is to help a fellow-flyer in a moment of need. The camaraderie among pilots is tangible. I am deeply grateful.  Here is a brief potted biography of Laurie Kay: ex-South African air force; retired chief 747 pilot and instructor for South African Airways; Laurie was at the controls of Boeing 747 Lebombo which flew low and slow  at 140 Knots over Ellis Field stadium in 1995 when Francois Pienaar led the Springbok rugby team to a famous victory against the All-Blacks in the World Cup. It had “ Go Boks” painted under its wings. The story is movingly told in the film Invictus, starring Morgan Freeman as Nelson Mandela, and Matt Damon as Pienaar. I urge you to see it. It is about the power of sport as a universal language. And the power of forgiviness as a force for restraint.

Chris Briers, who runs the charter company, calls and promises to get me to Rand airport via Kruger by Tuesday. So we wait in Quelimane. Nothing can be done at the weekend. Hopefully it will all be sorted first thing Monday when offices open in Mozambique. I make the decision to go with Plan B and give him the green light. Past record suggests that Sam’s chances of getting Avgas to us in the required time are slim.

 What Strikefinder sees at 200 and 100 nautical miles ...

....and what we see as we pass safely by

 The South African Air Force Dakota DC3 with its new turbine engines at 
Quelimane dwarfs  Alpha Charlie in the background and below..

You've heard of the World War II Flying Tigers, the 1st Amerian Volunteer Group who fought with the Nationalist Chinese in 1941-42,,,well here is The Flying Tigger over the African bush...

Meanwhile, the ever-reliable Steve and I are going to have some grilled prawns and a few beers at a local dive where they’re playing the Bob Marley classic I Shot the Sherrif. There’s a carnival on in the streets of Quelimane tonight...not quite Rio but good enough,

Sunday: After a 3-hour wait Steve- he has to catch a flight back to the UK on Wednesday -we are told there is no room on the only flight to Maputo, the capital. We shall try again tomorrow. If that doesn''t work he will go back in the Cessna bringing fuel and I will head to Kruger and Johannesburg with a safety pilot. Meanwhile back to the pool and Piri Piri prawns.