
When I returned from ‘There and Back’, my around Australia flight to raise funds for the Royal Flying Doctor Service I had time to reflect upon a vast array of memories from different perspectives. Having traversed the length and breadth of the country and conducted countless interviews and speaking engagements, certain questions continued to surface. These questions bolster my belief that most folks don’t have an appreciation of what aviation is really about. Unfortunately, many of these enquiries came from educated individuals reporting for the media. These same individuals will be called to report about aviation at some point, be it an incident or community outrage at the nearby airport. We can only hope for an accurate and level account when the time comes.
By far one of the most common and telling questions was, “Don’t you get bored up there?” Now picture this, you’re hand flying a light aircraft like a Jabiru on a trek of around 13,000km. Between waypoints, there can be quite some distance, so managing the aeroplane, its fuel flow and navigation amongst pockets of weather most certainly accounts for some time and that answer was met with understanding nods. However, how do you describe the awe-inspiring vantage point of flight at around 5,000 feet to a layman? It is a height that is significant enough to offer a wonderfully detailed panorama of the land below, but not so great that the detail fades to grey.
This realm is home to the majority of visual pilots, yet to place another metaphorically into the pilot’s seat with justice calls for a mastery of the language that few possess. It is much like describing art and the fact that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Yet inevitably will all try to and are generally met by a blank expression, although occasionally a twinkle of interest creeps into the corner of the eye.
At the other end of the spectrum were those fellow aviators who came out to see the trusty Jabiru and discuss the machine and the mission. Rather than looking at these people, I was more commonly looking in the same direction; at some detail of the aeroplane or to the sky above, assessing the weather. The base-line was a common interest in flight and with that established, the conversation flowed freely.
Aloft once more (and not bored at all), the contrast gave me cause for thought about a simple truth. We are so fortunate in this day and age to be able to take to the skies, either in a two seat monoplane, or at Mach 0.86 and Flight Level 370. The flight celebrated the centenary of powered flight in 100 years in Australia and there is no denying the incredible advancement of aerospace technology in that time. Equally impressive is the accessibility of aviation.
In the early days, aviators were lauded as heroes, both incredibly brave and perhaps a little mad. Regardless, of their motivating traits, they were undisputed pioneers forging a new frontier, not on foreign soil, but in a new dimension. There were no guarantees of success, or even of personal safety. Reliability was not a consideration as most undertakings were sought to be conquered just once. A warring world and brilliant minds saw the novelty of aviation transform from a fledgling hop to global transport in the span of a human life. Few other human endeavours can lay claim to such progress.
Today, flight is truly feasible. I have often said that the most remarkable aspect of flying the Jabiru around Australia was that it was relatively unremarkable. In 1928, Bert Hinkler flew solo from England to Australia in 15 days with his head in the breeze and a Times Atlas on his lap. For my part I had an enclosed cockpit, starter motor, VHF radio, emergency beacon, satellite tracking system, GPS, accurate charts, mobile phone coverage and so on. When Hinkler was lost on the Tuscan Mountains it took months for him to be found and then it was only a fluke. I may have run late for dinner had I put down in a remote area.
And yet, the thought of forced landing is also a relatively rare occurrence in the modern day. Time has dictated that reliability does feature as a major consideration today and technology has evolved to make that a reality. Armed with a modern aircraft, competent training and sound preparation, an ‘adventure’ like mine is in most pilots reach. Burning around 23 litres per hour to attain over 200 km/h is good economy and a number of miles can be travelled in a day at that pace.
We live in an age of accessible aviation and we should probably stop and digest that from time to time. There are obstacles, no doubt. The encroachment upon airfields, the uncertain future of AVGAS and the hurdles associated with modern security measures. Notwithstanding, it is still far easier to capture a slice of sky than could ever have been imagined a century ago. In fact in 1928, Hinkler was bold enough to suggest that, “one day, people will fly by night and use the daylight for sightseeing.” And he was considered an advanced thinker on the topic.
Rather than getting caught up in the frustrations that can limit our enjoyment at times, appreciate the unique experience we share. Stop and smell those roses in the clouds. What we do when our wheels leave the earth is very special, but not out of reach of the masses. Many people have just never had the opportunity, or possess a phobia that could easily be dispelled with a little knowledge. Maybe that is something we should all undertake to do more often and win over some of the ‘nay-sayers’
Flight has transformed our planet, but it has also offered a view of our earth as we could only once have imagined. We are indeed fortunate that our passion for the skies and our birth dates placed us here in the right time and place. We should all enjoy your aviation and celebrate the freedom it offers. And in case you’re still wondering, I never get bored up there.

