FLIGHT PAY

 FLIGHT PAY

While stationed at Shearwater, I used to tag along on VH-50 training exercises just to collect the $30-a-month flying pay. The routine was pretty wild: they’d fly me out to Land’s End in a helicopter, drop me in a bog, then come back in the dark, and then try to find me. More than once, I’d get fed up and "cheat" by wading over to the path of the searchlight just to get it over with.

One night, things got hairy. The crewman lost control of the hoist in the wind, and I ended up swinging wildly, at one point getting within six feet of the rotor blades while they struggled to steady the wire.

The pilots back then were a different breed—total wild cards. On the way out, they’d fly over "Lover’s Lane" to spot where the cars were parked. On the return trip in the dark, they’d quietly auto-gyrate down toward the cars, then suddenly slam the throttle and hit the lights just to watch everyone scatter for cover. A few of them even ended up getting busted for poaching lobsters with Bell helicopters on floats