On 28/3/07, Godfrey DiGiorgi, discombobulated, unleashed:
>I thought I told the story at a prior time.
First I've read. Must've been asleep.
>About 1986, I was working at JPL on a flight project that involved a
>radar scatterometer measurement of ocean surfaces. We had managed a
>'piggy back' data acquisition session on another group's time that we
>shared the airplane with, a C-130, and were going to be in flight for
>about 10 hours. I wanted to get out of the office for a couple of
>days and was accepted in the flight crew as a backup tech for our
>radar scatterometer system.
Coool.
>
>The flight path went out over the waters of the Pacific near La
>Jolla, California, leaving from March AFB in Riverside. Our first
>target was right in that neighborhood, so we prepped prior to take
>off. Everything checked out. In the middle of the first data pass
>(about 15 minutes), the SNR from the rear antenna went nuts and
>ruined the data take. We physically examined as much of the system
>and cabling as possible and determined that the problem lay in a
>short stretch of cable that passed right over the top of the C-130s
>immense rear cargo door, and was inaccessible without opening the
>door (assuming that it wasn't the antenna itself that had gone
>faulty, of course).
Once a scientist, always a scientist ;-)
>
>Since the other experiment was the plane's primary purpose for this
>flight and they were paying the bills, we were faced with the notion
>of sitting around in a noisy plane for 9 more hours with nothing to
>do or attempting to replace the cable section. We talked it over with
>the pilot and copilot, and they said they could crack the door open
>about a foot, holding it on the hydraulics, while using a cargo net
>and body harnesses for safeties as well as a limit link on the door's
>motion. Bill and I, being the techs assigned, agreed.
Nice one.
>
>I had the Leica IIc in my tool belt, as usual, when we suited up and
>got the rest of the gear in order. The pilot leveled us off at 26,000
>feet for a transit section to the next target and the plane's crew
>setup the safeties, unlocked and opened the cargo door about 18
>inches. Just enough room for us to reach the connector that we needed
>to get to by climbing up the cargo netting on the door and reaching
>outside the plane on the underside of the fuselage's tail section.
>The cable replacement went well, although Bill was cursing loudly
>about "not being paid enough for this kind of s**t!!!", and we were
>about to wrap up ... I reached down to grab the camera for a snap of
>the repair.
Excellent.
>
>A tiny bit of bumpy air caught us right then and the hydraulics
>jumped, allowing the door to pop open to the limit of the safety link
>on the door's motion. It was only about 8 inches that it moved, but
>it felt like it was yawning wide open and I made a grab for the cargo
>netting. Bill near lost his lunch.
Girl!
>
>In that motion, the camera slipped from where I was pulling it out of
>the holster and my hand, somehow found its way over the edge of the
>door to disappear into the ocean below.
Ouch. I'd love to see your insurance claim form ;-))
>
>We were done, however, crawled back down the netting, closed up the
>door, and proceeded to make five successful data runs on the rest of
>the flight. A lot of laughs, some jokes about "racing underwear", and
>a good stiff drink or three ensued after we landed ...
My last ride in Fat Albert was filming the RAF's parachute display team
('Falcons') jumping in Cornwall from about 12k. I was harnesses and
hitched, standing on the open rear platform with the display team ready
to go. Bad weather meant the ground unit at the DZ were calling the go
for the jump by the minute. Low pressure and a broken cloud base of
about 800 feet so it was looking bad....and sure enough at the last
minute the DZ said no, so it was back to base. As soon as the 'no' was
called, several things happened at once - the loadmaster closed the
door, the team waltzed off to get rid of their kit, and the pilot stood
the plane on it's wing as they revelled in thoughts of an early bath.
This pulled about 2 G which is nothing - but the camera on my shoulder
that weighs 24 lbs suddenly weighed 58 lbs (or thereabouts) and I
collapsed in a heap on the closing platform.
Neeldess to say, I was not happy. Add to this that RAF (and I dare say
USAF) pilots love to play 'avoid the clouds' in a broken sky - because
they can - and the 45 minute flight back to RAF Brize Norton in
Oxfordshire was pure hell. I like a horizon to stair at, especially with
G all over the shop, so I blagged my way onto the flight deck and sat in
a bunk behind the pilots for the return.
The last laugh? Not mine: we dropped the display team at Brize (15
minutes drive from where I lived at the time) and then hopped to RAF
Lyneham (where the Hercs are based and where the flight originated from)
where I picked up my car - sick as a parrot - and drove the 2 hours
home. I love filming from helicopters but when they ask for a crew for
the C130 I fade into the back ground.....
--
Cheers,
Cotty
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