Monthly Archives: July 2015

Billy Coates

29 Wednesday Jul 2015

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Billy Coates

“Are you for the war,” was the question in 1969, “or against it?”

“I’m not for the war or against it,” Billy Coates would say. “I was in it.”

Now, Billy Coates is a fictional character, and not based on any one person. But I knew from the onset that the protagonist of Flight From Katama, which plays off pivotal events in 1969, would have to be a Vietnam veteran. The reason why has a lot to do with where I was living in the Seventies; Narragansett, Falmouth, Plymouth and Newport. Small seaside towns with a purpose, be it fishing or tourism or sailing. Towns where people were working hard. So the veterans therein (who were all older than myself) had simply come home and gone back to their labors. Perhaps in other places they might have donned their old fatigues and smoked pot and flashed peace signs to air the pain of blood spilled in vain, but the men that I knew had no time for all that.

So in Falmouth we have ex-door gunner Billy Coates, who used his GI Bill benefits to learn to fly, and who then found a wealthy sponsor for his charter flying business. He literally rubs elbows with the rich and famous when he flies them around Cape Cod and the Islands in his airplane, but he is not one of them. His best friend Ned Rogers is a cook in a seafood restaurant and Benedita Lopes, the high school girl whom he never quite connected with, is keeping the Cranberry Flying Service’s books for his silent partner.

When a seemingly small midnight favor — the flight from Katama — evolves into a momentous event, Billy finds himself standing at the confluence of wealth and politics. If he allows himself to be dawn into the media storm, his fifteen minutes of fame might lead to sudden riches. But at what cost to the course which he has charted for his own life?

None To A Million

27 Monday Jul 2015

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Writers are each a solitary actor with an audience of none to a million.

That’s my theory; writing is a non-simultaneous performance art. We act out our stories as we write — we perform them in our minds, just as surely as if we were on stage — without knowing how many people will be in the audience when the house lights come up. The writer must feel all the emotion as she writes; the reader gets it later. And who knows how many readers there will be?

Some can hold their game face as they write, hardly betraying the highs and lows of their feelings as they put words on the page. Others mumble their dialogs or speak the words aloud. Some pace at their writing station and pantomime the action. No wonder so many writers prefer to work alone!

I’ve read that JK Rowling was waiting on a train platform without a pen when she had the idea for a scrawny bespectacled boy who did not know that he was a wizard. Imagine if she had entered into a conversation with a fellow traveler, and that thought had been lost? Later, she penned her Harry Potter novels in the public room of a pub overlooking Edinburgh Castle. Could anyone watching her face then have sensed the brilliance of the words which she was putting on paper?

Alas, few of us have imaginations so powerful and so impervious to distraction as JK Rowling. So we retreat to quiet places. We train our family and friends to respect our diurnal periods of self imposed solitude. In the end, we put it out there. We publish electronically.

Will anyone read our words?

Sky Hitching

26 Sunday Jul 2015

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Base to Final 28M

It’s always something with airplanes.

No magneto for my Cherokee yet? No problem, I hitched a ride to breakfast with Greg in his nice Cessna 177 Cardinal. The weather wasn’t great, so we stayed close to home and ate at Plane Jane’s at Plymouth Airport once again. Not a bad deal at all, since Jane’s is our favorite spot for a fly-in breakfast or lunch.

My sick Slick magneto should be back from overhaul in Tulsa this week. It’ll be good to get the Cherokee flying again. However, my third class medical certificate expires at the end of the month and I couldn’t get an appointment with my examiner until August 4th, so I’ll have to fly with someone else next Sunday as well.

Like I said, it’s always something with airplanes!

How To Purchase (or Sell) an Airplane

They say that the two happiest days of a pilot’s life are first, when he buys an airplane, and second, when he sells it.

So our group wandered over to our friend Bob’s hangar at KPYM after breakfast to look at his Citabria, which he was selling to make way for a new airplane. It so happened that our friend Fred was looking for a tail wheel airplane, so we enjoyed watching the horse trading. Of course, we left them alone for the final price negotiation, but I can’t think of a better way to buy an airplane than from a friend. Especially so when another friend (Mike) has been doing the annual inspections on that airplane.

Some pilots consider the GCBC with flaps to be the best model of Citabria (Airbatic spelled backwards). I’m sure Fred is going to have a great time with it, and we’re all looking forward to seeing what shows up in Bob’s hangar next.

Flight From Katama

25 Saturday Jul 2015

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Set in 1969, this novella plays off the ‘Chappaquiddick Incident,’ with young charter pilot Billy Coates and his friends from Cape Cod tossed into the world of presidential politics by a fictional twist. It was fun to write, because I lived in Falmouth in the Seventies and I first learned to fly there. The characters came easily, since I  had known a few young locals like Billy in that seaside resort town, with his stalwart pal Ned Rogers and love interest Benedita Lopes.

Flight From Katama was my first self-published project, appearing on Amazon eight months ago. I intended it to be a short ‘Two Hour Quick Read’ which I could initially offer as a free promotion to introduce me and my writing. But readers have really responded well to the characters, so I’m planning to bring them back in a ‘Billy Coates Series’ of eBooks.

The biggest mistake I made on this project was the title. Pilots from all over the country might recognize ‘Katama’ as the popular grass airstrip at Edgartown on Martha’s Vineyard, but most readers wouldn’t know that. So given the way that Amazon suggests books by interests and keywords, ‘Flight From Chappaquiddick’ might have sold many more copies.

Live and learn.

My First Disaster

23 Thursday Jul 2015

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Recyclable1

Much of my writing ends up in the recycling bin, and I know that I’m not alone in that regard. If you are reading this blog, you may be a writer, and this might all sound very familiar.

I started to write my first novel at least a dozen times over the years, but I could never charge further than about 70 pages into the story before work or travel broke my stride. A few of these attempts dating back 20 years or more are stashed away in my filing cabinet or somewhere in my basement, growing mold. No one has ever read them.

After my forced retirement, I took the advice of many writers and got up 5 a.m. each morning, made a pot of coffee, and sat down with my computer. I turned off my cell phone and tapped the keys until 9 or 10 o’clock, and then printed the pages and added them to the stack. Ten months later, I had 1245 pages of Moons of the Sierra Maestra, which I rushed off to friends and family for reading.

It was awful.

So, I did what we all do: I began editing and re-writing, preparing a final manuscript to mail off to some agents or publishers. I suppose that I might have spent the rest of my life perfecting that masterpiece if I had not decided to put it aside “just for a few weeks” to write a little novella. I had been toying with the idea for Flight From Katama for years, so why not try a small project as an eBook, just to see what this self-publishing thing is all about?

I still have a lot to learn as a writer, but pushing that one little project through to completion for Amazon Kindle was the best move I ever made.

Why I Write

22 Wednesday Jul 2015

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Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.

Substitute write for teach, and that old proverb is the story of my life. Because many of the things that I now write about are the things which I can no longer do.

Three and a half years ago, I was a retired from the US Coast Guard and working on oil field service boats in the Gulf of Mexico and on tugs and ferries in New England waters. It was physical and enjoyable work. I ran, surfed, kayaked, fly-fished and dove into the deepest spots along the coast. I rode motorcycles and I flew my own airplanes.

It was in my favorite airplane that I hurt myself, a 1947 Aeronca Champ, when I mis-judged a landing and caught a tree with my wingtip.  Four seconds later, the airplane cartwheeled into the ground and my life was changed forever. After ten surgeries and months of laying on my back in a nursing home, I had one leg and limited use of my right arm.

We’re all lucky to be alive; some of us just embrace that fact more intimately than others. So I pushed my wheelchair up to the dining room table and began writing as soon as I got home to have a reason to get out of bed in the morning.

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Flying May Happen

19 Sunday Jul 2015

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Young Eagles

Unlike this happy Young Eagle, no flying for me this weekend.

My Cherokee was diagnosed with a sick magneto on Thursday, which had to go to Tulsa for overhaul (hopefully under warranty.) So I had to hitch a ride to Cranland (28M) for the EAA Chapter Fly-In Pancake Breakfast. Which was great. But the highlight of the week was the second round of Young Eagles flights on Saturday morning. Some of our local pilots took 16 more Taunton High School JROTC students up for their first flights in an airplane. The sky was overcast but absolutely calm, and the kids were great, all smiles and polite appreciation. It seemed to be a complete success.

The only sour note – and it was a big one – was our airport manager.

He came over and demanded that we have a $1,000,000 (yes, million!) insurance policy for the “event,” naming the airport as beneficiary. Which is news to all of us, since we’ve been inviting friends to come to the airport and fly with us for years, with no mention of “event insurance.” The Young Eagles were our invited guests, and each pilot and airplane was covered by EAA insurance for Young Eagle flights. The was no invitation for the general public to go flying, no aerobatics, no formation flying, no low passes, no “spectacle.” Just free airplane rides for some very deserving young people.

We polled some other airport managers who told us that Young Eagle flights were no different than any other “not for hire” flight, and that pilots were welcome to bring anyone to their Public Use Airports for a flight. But that wasn’t good enough for our manager, who is not a pilot. He stated that the Young Eagles “Didn’t know what they were getting into,” (whatever that means) even though each had a signed permission slip from a parent. In fact, many of the parents attended to watch and photograph the flights.

Unfortunately, the manager’s tone and conduct was rather shameful for our airport, especially when you consider that our user fees pay for his contract. (The airport does not receive a dime from the city.)  But as Melinda, the president of our association succinctly told him in a letter, “Flying may happen from time to time at the airport.”

Flying Into the Future

12 Sunday Jul 2015

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It’s embarrassing when my leg falls off.

I’m fine when I’m flying, but it happens sometimes when I get out of my Piper Cherokee. Right now, my residual leg (stump) is changing, so until I get fitted with a new socket, twisting out of the pilot’s seat onto the wing and down to the ground can cause my prosthetic leg to slip off.

Which was why I didn’t volunteer to make some of the EAA Young Eagle flights for the Taunton High School Air Force JROTC program this week. Instead, I sat at the reception table doing paperwork. But I was certainly thinking, just let one disabled cadet walk up to this table and I will personally limp out to my airplane and give them their ride!

Get a grip, Doug. Of course there are no disabled youngsters in JROTC, especially for the USAF. After all, we wouldn’t want to set a false expectation, since Johnny can’t go to the Air Force Academy and fly a jet after he lost his arm. And Sally, you’ll never be an astronaut with that artificial leg.

Except that there are service members currently serving as pilots after becoming disabled by limb loss while on active duty. Not to mention the WWII double amputee and Battle of Brittan ace Douglas Bader. So why couldn’t a young person with a pre-existing disability start a military career, if they could otherwise meet the fitness standards? I became disabled in retirement, but the greatest attribute I looked for in new recruits during my 28 year military career was MOTIVATION.

Personally, I believe that the bigger leap is in our minds. But I am certain that there will come a time, out in the big blue sky of the future, when advancements in prosthetics and therapy will make it perfectly normal for disabled youngsters to aim for careers as military aviators and as pilots for the major airlines.

It’s going to be a great day.

BREAKFAST AT KATAMA

We flew to Katama (again) this week for breakfast on the deck, with 8 airplanes: Super Hawk, Pitts, Vans RV, Cardinal, C-150, C-182, Citabria and the Cherokee. Our string of near perfect days continued, and the sky was bright blue and silky smooth. My only brain-lock occurred when we had to be pushed back into a parking spot. I use a bar (or lever) to control the rudder and nose wheel steering with my right hand. Down is left and up is right. Simple. Until I had to steer going backwards, and my brain couldn’t catch up, even though it was a lot easier than backing a trailer. But with Robbie and Mike pushing, we got the airplane parked without trading wingtip paint with the neighbors.

YOUNG EAGLES

As I mentioned, the Taunton Pilots Association flew 16 JROTC cadets on EAA Young Eagle flights this week. We had two Vans RVs, an Aeronca Champ, a Long EZ and a Hawk XP on the line. The kids were great and they really enjoyed it, but I think that the pilots had more fun than any of the teenagers.

No Flight Plan

05 Sunday Jul 2015

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No Flight Plan

Some people don’t like freedom.

We flew 4 airplanes to Plymouth for breakfast this morning, and *GASP!* not one of us filed a flight plan! I can surmise that if some misfortune had befallen one of us, the news media would have ended their report of the disaster with that trite and ominous epithet, “the single engine Piper had not filed a flight plan.” Never mind that our flight was 12 miles and that on a clear day (uh … which this wasn’t!) you can see the big hangars at KPYM from the traffic pattern at our home airport. Never mind that we were well clear of the airline routes for Boston and Providence and that we took all the other usual precautions for a semi-local VFR flight. The lack of a flight plan, by itself, would mark us as irresponsible yahoos to some who have learned all about aviation in the movies and on TV.

Maybe we are. Our group of friends seldom has a destination in mind until we all meet up at Mike’s hangar. At around 8 am on Sunday morning, someone will say “Let’s go to Fitchburg,” or Katama or Minute Man. After nods of agreement, as many as 12 airplanes might take off in rapid succession and arrive at our chosen breakfast spot as a flock. We fly low and use our own eyeballs and a common frequency on our radios to avoid occupying the same airspace at the same time. There are often children onboard.

Should we have to ask for permission from our government before launching into the sky, as is the case in most of the world? Is that too much freedom?

“Hell no!” I say. America’s skies should always be free!

And if you’re lucky in life, you’ll fall in with a group of like-minded people doing something fun and free and interesting, like flying to breakfast in their own airplanes.

PLANE JANE’S

Plymouth (KPYM) is our “go-to” airport when the weather isn’t perfect or we don’t have as much time as we’d like. The restaurant is Plane Jane’s, and Jane herself was there to serve us with a smile. In fact, everyone at the airport seemed to be sporting a post-cookout/fireworks grin. There were friends on the ramp and in the lobby and Tom, the airport manager, had an office full of pals solving the problems of the world. What a great airport!

KEEP ‘EM FLYING

A cracked weld on one of my Cherokee’s exhaust risers almost kept me grounded this weekend. Luckily, Jim at the Aircraft Parts Exchange in Fort Mill, South Carolina had the part on hand. Mike had to make some phone calls and intercept the UPS truck to get the part on Friday morning (July 3 holiday) but he had my airplane back in service by Friday afternoon. I also had a fresh coat of wax from Alex’s Aircraft Detailing, new brake liners, and squeaky-new tires on the main landing gear. Which was great, because the sky was just beautiful for a sightseeing flight to Cape Cod that evening.

BAY STATE CHALLENGE

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New friend George Danziger flew his Aeronca Champ down from Northampton (7B2) this week to get his Fly the Bay State Challenge ‘Passport’ stamped. The aim is to visit all 39 public use airports in Massachusetts, as well as to attend two FAA safety seminars. George is well on his way to claiming a prize, and we thank him for visiting us and Myricks (1M8).

By the way, ‘public use’ means that any aircraft may land and use the facilities of the airport without prior permission. The challenge is a great reason to go flying and explore new places for a $200 hamburger! But more importantly, it celebrates a pilot’s right to land at – and use – any airport in the USA which receives funding from the FAA.