The Bug
An insect in the cockpit should be a minor distraction. Unless you’re flying with Piet, a pilot whose war against creepy-crawlies would leave a Comanche full of DDT and two aviators fighting for visibility.
Author Archive for: jimdavis
Entries by Jim Davis
The Great Court Case
In the booming aviation days of the 1960s, a Sunday morning takeoff without a clearance seemed harmless enough. Two years later, it would land Jim Davis in a Windhoek courtroom—facing five charges, a furious controller, and a flashing white light that changed everything.
Eric the Lifesaver
Returning from a routine sales trip, Jim Davis walks into a hangar transformed for a major aviation celebration. What follows involves a notorious uninvited guest, a quiet negotiation, and a man named Eric whose calm authority changes the course of the evening—and possibly more.
The Lovable Con Man
Eric, sometimes known as Farley, was a well-built, dark, handsome brute of about 30. He could—and did—literally charm the pants off every pretty girl within 100 miles of wherever he happened to be that particular evening. He was by far the best salesman Placo ever employed, before or since. At that time, we were selling about one new aircraft a month.
Old Piet and Mr Piper
For many years, Piet’s company—Placo (the Pretoria Light Aircraft Company)—was the best-selling Piper dealership outside the USA. Old Piet and William T. Piper would remain firm friends for the next 25 years, until Piper’s death in 1970. But Piet still faced a problem: 300 airplanes in America, and no money to get them to South Africa.
Hired and Fired
My duties at Placo included making tea, polishing aircraft, vacuuming interiors, and blacking tires. Zingi mentioned I’d occasionally fly with the big boss, who feared a heart attack and wanted another pilot aboard in case he collapsed. I knew my meager skills would do little to delay our demise should Old Piet falter at the controls.
Zingi and the Auster
No sooner had I revived my tea-making activities when I heard the Auster start. After some introductory coughing and spluttering, it settled down to a healthy roar. For God’s sake throttle back, I muttered into the teapot. They didn’t. The noise got louder and closer. There was a horrendous clatter and crash, a tinkling of broken glass—and then silence.
Flight Lessons from Komati to Stegi
Now, when a fuel-injected motor starts dying of thirst, it doesn’t just peacefully expire—it has several false stops interspersed with bursts of power. As an engine gives up, the aircraft swings violently toward it. This is counteracted by a bootful of opposite rudder, which generally coincides with its recovery, causing an even more violent swing in the other direction. When both motors quit simultaneously, the bursts of power, swinging, and kicking of rudder present an unusual spectacle to the casual observer on the ground—and a frightening demonstration of chaos to the less casual spectator aboard.