Plane day actually began a few days before plane day, when we were set the task of hoeing the runway. Over time small plants root in the runway and spread out to form mats of weeds. These weed patches are slippery and on a previous plane day the plane skidded on a patch of greenery and burst one of its tyres, so now the plants must be removed before the plane lands. The runway is a kilometre in length and about 300 metres wide, and standing at one end of it clutching a tiny garden hoe the task seemed Herculean. The weather for those few days was murderously hot and still, and as we inched our way along the runway, bent double and scratching at every tiny blade of grass, I speculated that this must be what it feels like to work on a chain gang. Although I expect chain gang prisoners don't get to wear bikinis and listen to their iPod.
Pacific Air Charters flight 1 to Tern Island.
On the morning of plane day we got up early to prepare. First we had a safety briefing and were allotted specific tasks should there be an accident- two people to man the boat, one person to communicate with the outside world, one person to stand on the shore and point at where the plane hit the water. Unless the plane happens to crash on the island of course in which case all you need is one person to fetch the fire extinguisher. Then we got the boat ready to be launched in case of an accident. Then we started hazing the runway.
Testing the bird scaring equipment.
Having a runway on an island that is entirely covered in large birds has one obvious disadvantage- a high risk of birdstrike. Birdstrike is bad for the planes and pretty catastrophic for the bird as well. An albatross can leave a serious dent in a small aeroplane, or even worse, go through the windscreen and take out one of the pilots. The pilots wear crash helmets whilst taking off and landing for this reason. So to try and reduce the chance of a birdstrike, we spent a couple of hours before the plane was due to arrive hazing, or scaring birds off the runway. Although no birds nest on the runway some of them, particularly the albatrosses and masked boobies, like to loiter on it. These birds have to be chased away, and because the runway is quite large, a bicycle is used to expidite the process. Chasing albatrosses off a runway on a bicycle is a surreal experience, though quite a fun one. If the bicycle is not sufficient to scare the albatross, one must leap off it and chase the albatross on foot, shouting and clapping one's hands. The most truculent albatrosses have to be either picked up and moved or gently persuaded in the right direction with a foot. Needless to say, some of the albatrosses simply stroll back onto the runway a few minutes later and have to be chased all over again, but overall the process is fairly effective, and when the plane finally landed there were no birdstrikes at all.
An albatross inspects the plane...
...and is not impressed.
The plane left the next day, taking the IT technician with it but leaving the bananas and the new people. The new people are Dascha, Pete's wife who has recently completed her PhD and is volunteering on Tern until starting her real job in Washington DC, and Paula, the new assistant manager. This means there will be six of us manning (though perhaps that should be womanning, since there are now five girls and one boy) Tern until the next visit by a ship in late March.
Paula, the new assistant manager, is strict but fair.
Dr. Dascha.
Truculent albatrosses - simply excellent.
ReplyDeleteThank you for another Tern Tale.
Love the albatross and plane photos (brilliant disapproval!). No one does it better than the albies.
ReplyDeleteRegards from the ATF