The Time We Came Pretty Close To Running Out Of Gas almost but not really.

You notice Byron conveniently uses the term WE? He had a mouse in his pocket.

All loaded up... we took off From Marathon Florida  to Congo Town Andros Bahamas... bucking HEAD WINDS......
easy trip really... you just steer directly East.... its a big Island about 140 miles long so pretty hard to miss coming in broadsides , I mean you would really have to try and miss it.

Taking off on runway 07 and then turning to a heading of 090....... climb up a bit.. and just sit there looking out the window.. nothing but ocean below and ahead of you for  miles and miles as the shoreline fades away behind you... you can experience automatic engine rough  I hear, that is all in your head.... now if the engine should take a dump.. well that might not be so pretty..  but we had our blow up K Mart raft and two cheepo life vests.... and some granola bars and water.. what more is needed really?  I imagine the huffing and puffing to blow up the raft might be an experience.. here its your turn now I am dizzy, as breath is mingled and captured.

First you cross the deep blue of the Gulf stream  then hit the Great Bahama Shelf and fly along for another 100 miles  peering at the sandy bottom.. and nothingness... and every  thing ... beautiful.. I saw a dark portal in the crust just beneath the azure gin clear water.. and wondered, whats down in there?

Then over the old abandoned dangerous strip on Williams Island.. where the crashed DC 3 still sits.. and the bullet riddled Navajo... and then a gentle descent  into Congo Town landing with a chirp on the bitumen ... Lovely place.. swaying palms and sandy beaches truely idyllic ,,,,, we stayed next to the Prime Ministers Bungalow....  the door was open so I walked in and there were boxes of propaganda.. booklets with the titles...' Keep The Rascals Out'

It was on about.. Carlos and his pals...  we wound up renting a car and exploring the area... with our guide a 3 year old Bahamian boy... his mother had no hesitation for allowing him to come along for a ride... with me and Donna she in  a festive yellow dress, such was the inherent trust, I was sort of blown away by it... he wanted to come... and his mother said it was quite o.k. and so he did...

We found an old Aero commander crashed right on the shoreline... I climbed into the cockpit with a bottle of rum and sat there.. we took some pictures...

When we refueled the plane out of red 5 gallon jerry jugs... it took all of what is referred to as usable fuel.. in  all flight attitudes ...  so I guess it was not that close unless banking or ?.. there still may have been a few gallons sloshing around in there... the car gas burned just fine on our return flight.... after draining just a little water first........

Of course customs was full of questions.....  the old Cutter Service as they are.

Why this? Why that?......... well Because, that's Why... I felt like it.

Moral of the story.. when you top off the wing tanks stop go out to the wing tip and rock the plane gently and burp the tanks and  that way you can get a little bit more in....and mind Bucking Headwinds....and fuel up the day before.. so there is enough time for the water to fall to the quick drains...

and a  little bit more fuel might just be enough for the rocking to make it,  or an inch is as good as a mile.

The Bahamians paint their houses in  bright pastel colors.. to ward off bad spirits.

The time we came pretty close to running out of gas almost  but not really.

                                                    Byron.

GMA News: YouScooper captures chilling video of Parañaque plane crash (D...

Say it ain't so....V.M.C. Rollover.  Dump The Nose.

The Old Over Loaded Navajo..........

I always thought one of the most charming features  about the Airport in Puerto Jiminez   Costa Rica was the Cemetery adjacent the Runway...

I was flying co-pilot in an old beat Navajo...  loaded to the gills.... ... half of the dzus
fasteners were missing on the engine cowlings.. and a  AAA battery powered early G.P.S. was duct taped to the control Yoke.

I am sure climb out on one engine would have been stellar if at all.

Never happened. Just be ready to chop power to both engines if one fails when operating out of the envelope, unless of course you prefer to roll inverted and crash and burn, or if you have enough speed limp along with the wing down into the good engine and push on the rudder...  maybe you can successfully ditch it.. either way sooner or later your are going to land. Why wait?

The Old Over Loaded Navajo.

Forrest Files I.F.R.

It was a misty cool morning a low solid overcast... Forrest had  a case of the potentially deadly  Get Homeitis. The Cessna 172 was sitting there covered in dew...dripping even.... it was a pretty blue on white.

Forrest  had a brilliant idea he would take off into the weather and climb out to V.F.R. on top.
Forrest taxied to the end of the runway did his run up and decidedly took off into the solid overcast...

anticipating to break out on top... in short order,  instead he scared himself pretty good.
Climbing, Climbing, Climbing, this is thicker then he thought as he passed through 5500 feet.. well at least he was above the upcoming mountain range or was he over it? Granite cumulus can be nasty stuff.

A quick peek outside the window from his steady scan from  artificial horizon and instruments revealed a lovely sight... clear ice forming on the wing strut... as he reached across the console to turn on the Carb. Heat.

Nice going Forrest... gosh I hope it does not get worse for your sake. Forrest broke out at 8500' to a crystal clear blue sky above.. the sun shining... he breathed deep.

He dialed in two distant V.O.R.'s and got an intersection Fix... oh shit he was nearly  over his destination and it was a solid blanket of clouds as far as he could see in any direction below him....

Now what...? Thinking of a blind descent... that was more then he bargained for, the ascent was one thing the descent quit another..... Radio towers  flashed by with their guy wires in his imagination.

Well one good thing.. Forrest had a goodly amount of fuel left.. and the engine was running good and now that he had broken out on top of the cloud cover along with the bead of sweat on his brow..

He simply decided to fly on past his destination.. hopefully the weather would improve.

For another 30 minutes he flew in a Southerly direction...  and a hole appeared beneath him where he could see the ground...

A Sucker Hole.... and low and behold... a nice paved runway right there talk about timing and luck..... it was his that day..........
he chopped the power dropped some flaps and rolled into a spiraling descent a Kamikaze heading for the carrier deck ... poof right on down and roll level.... now he was at 800' Scud running... as he set up a landing approach and pattern into the Mystery Airport...

Nice landing he complemented himself.... as he taxied up to the line shack... He wondered where he was as he confidently walked up into the line shack... with the big Aviation Chart on the Wall.. with the  red PIN.. marking   'This is where you are'        'Magellan'

Nonchalantly he had a look  and scratched his chin then  set a course back up to the north 70 miles ducking under the clouds .. he purchased 10 gallons of fuel... that would give him yet another hour  plus should he encounter any more difficulties...

He made it right in to home base with no problems....  He thought about the Ice... and the potential of an emergency let down blind. That probably was not such a good idea.

                                               Forrest Byron

Forrest Flips The Ultralight Twice Even.

Forrest once bought an Ultralight Aircraft... It did not last long... he wound  up getting depressed.

The Ultralight was called a Snoop... it was  Quick Silver Rip Off.  It had a 35 h.p. Cuyuna two stroke engine .. marvels......

a single seat... single surface wing... and sat on floats...  with the moment of datum aft....  it had two axis control Elevator and rudder... it has spoilerons on top of the wings.. but Forrest in his infinite wisdom chose to leave those disconnected.. as it had a significant amount wing dihedral  and would just make wallowing turns... no big deal.

There was the one time he decided to shut the engine off on deep water...  well expected  the plane weather vane'd to the Breeze and the current in the channel was running opposed... the whole thing rotated like a wheel in a hamster cage...  Forrest was the hamster climbing out of his canvas sling seat and up onto the bottom of the now inverted floats the whole airplane under him in the water drifting towards North Pine Channel bridge. Forrest held the appearance of walking on water from a distance much to the bewilderment oh his rescuers at first..  what is that under you?  They thought it was a Hobie Cat or something.

Charming.......

After much labor he got it fixed and running again...  renaming it the Salty Dog.

He used to thrill flying along U.S. 1 right at the height of the cars travelling across the land filled roadway that crosses between Big Pine and The Torch Keys.. it was a real attention getting .... to the Drivers and passengers driving by... it had ugly Maltese Crosses on it... Forrest never liked them.

One day he advanced the throttle in flight very quickly and the engine just stopped...  he made a nice water landing... and restarted and took off....

another time he was crossing over the highway and the engine quit a simple wire had come undone... he managed to make a forced landing just the other side of the big powerlines.. and pull out his pocket knife and make a real quick repair as he was drifting in the water towards the rocks... powering up he made good his escape..

Forrest never felt comfortable in that machine it was a far cry from a Cessna or a Piper.. looking straight down between your legs at the earth and sea below.. 500' looks a long way.

and the way those rear wing tubes flexed under a load... was unsettling.. what if one broke?

So He started to fly low... at what he figured would be a survivable  fall...... maybe.

That may have been a mistake.. in retrospect maybe he should of gotten a parachute and flown higher.

One day Forrest was angry about something.... and there was a thunderstorm not far off in the distance.. with its black curtains.........falling from the sky to the sea.

He took off in the general direction of the storm...

Came around and set up a poor approach coming down in a crab... in retrospect he figures he should have done a go around.. but he figured at the time it would just skid on those flat bottom floats...

Forrest had made the wrong decision again the right float buried itself in the water  and Submarine'd.

This time he Cartwheeled and caught a snout full of water... strapped in upside down blowing bubbles...

Fortunately for Forrest he had the presence of mind to unbuckle himself and swim to the surface.

Some Good Samaritan came to the rescue.. Forrest came to his senses and realized he better stick to Pipers and Cessnas... and drug the contraption into the woods next to his house..where he left it.

and gave it up, He went inside the house for two weeks.

But on a happier note there was the day he was spiraling with Eagles Over Howe key with  a buddy Gary Bullard in his Ultalight........ Now there was a guy that knew his Ultralights.

Night Flying With Forrest

The Piper Tomahawk:
Now that was an interesting airplane, it had a long narrow wing and a T tail... it kind of felt like you were sitting in a bubble on top of the wing...  or  like a bubble on a Carpenters Level, maybe a bit of a motor glider.

It was dubbed the Trama Hawk, Snicker,  It had a peculiar trait... if you went into an old school power on stall now called departure stalls  (operating manuals got much thicker to) ....  and cranked your head around just before the break you could see the horizontal stabilizer flutter... Forrest  did it only once... Forrest did not like that.

However Forrest did have access to the plane..at a good price, it was green and white.. and had a Lycoming engine.. it had a lot of hours on it.. as Forrest recalls it may have even been past... T.B.O.   (recommended Time Between Overhauls.)

It ran great however, strong even.

On numerous  occasions... Forrest Byron would get off of Work around 10:00 p.m. and look up at the sky and if he could see the stars...  he would make sure the fuel tanks were full and would take off for a just over 100 mile trip up to Copperhill Tennessee.......... crossing a mountain range not terribly high but still 5-6 thousand feet... it was wonderful... sitting in that bubble... the artificial horizon dimly lit.... as the city lights of Atlanta.. slipped away behind him... and it turned into Black Velvet beneath him.... with a smattering of distant lights  ....  the horizon melded with sky...  this is where he taught himself to fly on instruments ... to some degree.. Forrest adjusted his balls, climbing out, maintaining altitude and a heading..  with frequent goo goo eye scans to his best friend the Artificial Horizon..........compass, and altimeter.... engine in the greens, thank you, there that is not so hard, he never lost control flying into the void... though once he let his attention drift and found himself in a 30 degree wing low situation..  that is when he brought it back up.

Oh it was dark down there....  I suppose if the engine quits.. He  thought to himself he would just set up a best angle of glide speed with the trim and roll with the dice,    oh look!   Sssssssssnake  eyes............

Then in the far distance right around 12 O'clock  the rotating beacon at Copperhill would appear... Flashing,  Green White, Green White, Green White...  yes that must be it he thought and came to know a sigh of relief.... flying a nice high pattern... he slid in to the dark spot between the row of lights... taxi to the abandoned of people parking tie down and ramp  area and mosey over to the pay phone,

Drop a quarter in  and his Sister would come pick him up at the Airport. Tie down the plane.  It was now a quarter to one in the morning in a less complicated time between the air mail pilots (then) and the now.



                                                  Forrest Byron

Forrest Byron Takes Off With Full Flaps....

Forrest can attest... It can be done.
He went to the airport very early one morning.

He had been on a night of considerable drinking.
He Forrest even brought along a friend for the ride...

Touch and goes you know......
round and round the patch....

Forrest had 40 degrees of flaps down in the Cessna...
he poured the coals to it and promptly did not raise the flaps...

Not one bit at all.

By the time Byron Forrest got down to the end of the big long runway..
oh my the flaps are down...

He might of made 50' altitude... he was committed now off the end of the runway...
the mighty engine at full power... the one good thing he did that day was nurse the flaps up..

Easy girl... touchy touchy..... milk , milk..   there we go... now we are climbing out....
Forrest suggests you never try it... but if you find yourself close to the ground don't dump the flaps..
you will settle back in.

                                      Forrest  Byron.

GEAR UP! Byron makes a BOO BOO.

For whatever reason... Forrest elected to take off and fly from Atlanta to Northern Georgia.. there was a private grass strip up in those mountains... it was 1600' feet long and had rising terrain and a bit of an uphill grade... and of course it was down hill and towards the valley the other direction... there was an old man up there that flew a Tri Pacer... he was like 80 years old.

Forrest took the Piper Arrow.. it had the 200 h.p engine and the controllable pitch propeller and retractable gear... .... entry level complex single...

He dropped the gear and put down full flaps and  made a nice landing nestled between the green mountains.

Spent the night in Helen.... the next morning Forrest Byron returned to the strip.. and consulted with the old man... as to which direction to take off.... up hill towards the mountains and rising terrain or down hill towards the valley...

Maybe the old man was joking.. he said take off up hill towards the mountains...

So Forrest taxied to the end of the grass strip.. he knew the plane was relatively light.. half fuel.. no passengers.. but he knew he had little margin for any error...

He did the run up... engaged the gear manual override  stood on the brakes advanced full power and released and rotated at best angle of climb... there we go... gear up nose down a titch...

Rattle Rattle Bang! Bang!  the R.P.M.'s started to roll back just over the trees while making a right turn out.. Forrest is talking to himself  now like Jimmy Stewart.. in the Spirit of St. Louis ... Keep the turn shallow... stay out of the tree top's don't stall,   Jesus Please........... the  green tree tops whiz by... Whew! the terrain starts to fall away the engine is still running and knocking....

He retards the throttle the rattling stops... hmmm.... he wonders do I chance flying another 100 miles back to Atlanta?

No he  thinks not, some instructor's words ring in his head... outside the cockpit now... " No runway better then the one below you"
,
He elects to return...  drops full flaps.. brings the power all the way back to idle... beautiful, beautiful, keep raising the nose pull back pull back all the way the yoke is in his lap.. perfect.. he hears the tail tie down ring hit the turf... SHIT!

THE GEAR...................... BAM!  the seat backs fly forward plane slides to a halt...  Fuck Me.. Forrest Exclaims...  he shuts the mags off, master switch off and  turns the fuel off then  jumps out of the airplane, onto the wing.......

Son of a Bitch!................. Oh Well....... "any landing you walk away from is a good one."

" there are those that have landed gear up and those that will."  Two fly boy adages.

Forrest Byron got those two  out of the way he did.

Blood On The Door Panels or Spiral Up.

The flat land Pilot from Oklahoma took off out of Cottonwood Arizona with his two hefty passengers... heading for Prescott.

He elected to follow 89 A.. the road below that winds its way from the Verde Valley and up through Jerome and over the top of Mingus Mountain then into the Prescott Valley beyond...  a higher plain.

The Aeroplane  was unable to climb faster then the terrain rose to meet it..  realizing a bit late the Pilot attempted to execute a 180 degree turn near Potato Patch....  sadly his airspeed had already deteriorated as the wings angle of  bank was pilot induced to   increase as did the stall speed along with it..  they then plummeted to their deaths....

I rode in a car to  where they placed the wreckage beside the hanger at Cotton wood airport as a boy...of 13

and had explained to me what had  happened..  as  I was looking at the blood on the door panels.

Moral of the story in perhaps more then one way?

                           IS

Spiral up first before crossing rising terrain.


                                                  Forrest Byron.

The Life And Times of Forrest Byron

Allow me to introduce myself:

I was born on December 12th 1915.

Time before last........ Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to meeeeeeeeee... anyway..... this direction:
                                                                                      come along if you like come along if you must....

I was inspired to write this blog... by the preacher that died in a plane crash in 1978 I believe it was March 13 of that year...

He shall remain nameless... however he was  enroute  From San Andros  in the Bahamas to Ft. Lauderdale  in a Mooney 20
cruising at 7,000 '  the engine quit...

Having plenty of time to call out a Mayday and approximate position report... however there were 4 occupants in the plane but alas only two life jackets... and one of those drifted off , after the successful ditching.

It only took the coast guard 90 minutes to find them I am certain the Green dye marker with shark repellent helped  ... the preacher was 69 years old...  the plane was piloted by his son whom I have know from boyhood...  and the 25 year old girl  got the sole life jacket and was in the back seat with  the 29 year old young man.

It was a cold time of year for Florida.. and the Bahamas... oh not that cold but chilling... and windy and the waves were registering at 8'....

After struggling in the colder water time of year  and  praying for them all  to their  God Almighty .. hypothermia set in and  he simply surrendered and  drifted off to the Sea... the Pilot and two back seat passengers managed to dog paddle and  were successfully rescued...

But sadly Preacher perished and his body was never recovered, His soul left to wander and be remembered.
Safety equipment please.

                                                  Forrest Byron.
As always feel free to ask Byron any questions.