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Posted By:
Nickens, Dan
Date Posted:
Jan 21, 2020
Description:
Why would anyone travel to New Caledonia?
It's just another Pacific Island.
Palm trees. Sand. Surf. And it's windy.
Ho hum harumph.
Date Taken:
November 22, 2019
Place Taken:
Grande Terre, New Caledonia
Owner:
Nickens, Dan
File Name:
- Photo HTML
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Category:
Yacht Tending NC
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Read what others had to say:
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Laterite is a soil that is rich in iron and aluminum. It is formed in wet, tropical environments. This type of soil forms after a period of long, hot weathering in climates with pronounced wet and dry seasons. Soluble ions get leached out, leaving only more insoluble ions. This kind of environment typically occurs between the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn. Of course environments change and plates move around, so laterite can also be found outside of the normal zone. But New Caledonia is the classic place for such soil to be found.
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Bloodied Island 2019-11-22 21.36
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Iron oxides in the soil weather to a typical rusty red. Aluminum oxides are white. Results in New Caledonia are splashes of red and white, mixed with tropical greenery and a variety of blue hues of the ocean and sky.
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Paint Spill 2019-11-22 21.37
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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New Caledonia is a fragment of the old super-continent, Gondwanaland. It separated from Australia some 66 million years ago, migrating to the northeast. That's one reason the main island (Grande Terre, or "Le Caillou" in local venacular) is a bit different. It's big. Not just the tip of some volcano. It's real old crust. As a consequence of its specially aged soil, nickel has been mined since the 1800's in NC. Reserves on the little island territory are estimated to be 21% of the world's nickel laterite resources.
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Deeply Weathered 2019-11-22 21.17
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Though there is plenty of crystal clear water, but near shore water is strongly tinted with soil streaming down the hills.
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Soiled Water 2019-11-24 10.18
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Unfortunately New Caledonia was afflicted with some unusually windy weather, well outside of the norm for the season. Fortunately there were plenty of protected bays.
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Protected Parking 2019-11-22 21.44
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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When the wind was really blowing and SuRi was swinging on its anchor, the only way to keep the wings out of the water were to install to giant inflatable boat bumpers and lash them to the wing struts.
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Emergency Floatation 2019-11-28 14.20
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Afternoon adiabatically boosted wind was not the only windy hazard. Flying around SuRi you have to what out for heli-cyclones too.
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Heli Launching 2019-11-23 22.06
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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The beach was gentle enough to park on. It was particularly calm with the wheels planted in the sand.
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Local Flora 2019-11-24 09.57
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Since I got there fast and SuRi got there much slower, I had time to watch it roll in. SuRi wasn't the only ship to roll in. A French patrol boat showed up and dropped anchor nearby. The P400 frigate captain and some of the ship's officers came over for a visit. SuRi's captain pimped me out. The young French captain and I went for a SeaRey flight around the island. He told me he was the son of a French fighter pilot. We took pictures of him flying the SeaRey to make his father jealous. The captain offered a tour of the patrol boat for SuRi's guests. One of the guests asked about the brig. The captain took the guests down to show them the criminal quarters. When he opened the brig he was surprised to find several of his crew sleeping there. I suspect the bilge will be extra clean after the captain issued special assignments to punish the unauthorized siesta nappers.
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Ship Coming In 2019-11-24 10.24
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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The back of the boat was busy, so SuRi's crew anchored the parking platform out for the SeaRey to use instead of the beach. It's convenient and easy, but not as pretty as the beach. Sigh.
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Colorful Parking 2019-11-24 00.12
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Inside the outer barrier reef there are many localized reefs closer to shore. Even the tiny sand spits were often difficult to get to because of all the coral.
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Dry Spot 2019-11-27 16.33
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 13,2020
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There's just something about the South Pacific. Maybe it's the peaceful routine of palm trees, beaches, and surf that lulls the senses. Maybe it's that the same peaceful routine can turn dangerous and dramatic in moments. Be it volcanoes, cyclones, or cannibals, there is always a tall tale to be told. New Caledonia was no exception.
The loud claxon made me jump. It sounded just like one of SuRi's fire alarm drills, but I knew it would be no drill with guests onboard. It took only a bewildered second, however, to realize the alarm was coming from the French frigate parked nearby.
That realization let me relax again. I was at the back of SuRi attending to a minor repair on the SeaRey as it floated at its inflatable platform. I had a good view of the frigate and saw its crew come pouring out onto deck. Clearly there was something serious afoot creating a scramble.
"Whatever. Not my problem," I surmised. I went back to tinkering.
A minute later the first mate ran out onto SuRi's aft deck. "The Captain wants to see you and Adrien right now on the bridge," he yelled. While looking around frantically he asked, "Where's Adrien?"
Adrien is SuRi's newest helicopter pilot. He's a former French military aviator. I dropped what I was doing and answered, "Last time I saw him was in the aviation office cleaning up some paperwork."
Sam turned and dashed back in that direction. I left on the shortest path towards the bridge.
When I got there I found the Captain on the radio with the French vessel. The first officer was standing by the helm and held his hand up to keep me quiet. I heard Captain saying, "I'll get it organized. Send your crew right over."
Adrien appeared from the interior stairway. "What is happening?" he asked.
"The Captain of the French frigate has asked for our assistance. A sailing yacht is reported to have wrecked on the barrier reef about 40 nautical miles to the southwest. Its captain is dead and several of the passengers are injured. The boat is breaking up."
"That is terrible, but what can we do?" I asked.
Looking at the first officer, the Captain said. "I want to get the Intrepid underway right away. It can get there faster than the frigate. Clinton, get three of the deck crew and proceed directly to the wreck. I'll call you with the coordinates. Offer any assistance you can."
Clinton nodded, grabbed his radio and started organizing the crew as he left.
"Is there anything I can do with the helicopter?" Adrien asked.
"We have been asked to take two of the frigate's rescue swimmers to the wreck. They are prepared to drop into the water and swim to it if that's possible. They also want to send a communications officer to accompany you so that he can coordinate from the air."
Adrien thought for a minute. "There is no time to take the doors off the helicopter, but the swimmers can open them when we arrive. I will get low enough for them to jump out. I have done this many time in military exercises."
"How's your fuel?"
"I have enough fuel for maybe two hours with minimum reserves. It's only a fifteen or twenty minute flight."
"How quick can you launch?"
"The helicopter is ready. We just need to clear the deck and get the swimmers onboard. Ten minutes."
"Launch as quickly as you can do it safely. The swimmers are on their way over now. The frigate will be departing as soon as they are transferred."
"I will go and prepare now."
"What can I do?" I asked.
The captain pointed to the wind indicator. It was showing 30 knots from the south. "The wind is too strong for the seaplane," he said.
"Yes, it's too strong for normal operations. But, it's protected here and I can fly if I need to."
"I don't know what you could do if you got there. Perhaps it is best if you assist with the heli launch and then monitor communications with Adrien."
As much as I would have liked to help, that seemed prudent considering what I'd seen earlier on the nearby reefs. Large waves, foaming white, smashed against the reefs from the ocean side. On top of the reefs it looked too shallow, with swell still in evidence over the razor sharp coral. The heavy waves resumed too closely on the leeward side for any normal SeaRey operation. And that was when the wind was half as strong.
I reluctantly nodded agreement. "Okay, well, I'll go see what I can do to get the heli launched."
"Come back to the bridge and man the VHF radio when you're done," the captain said as he turned away.
Frustration over being sidelined was building as I went aft to the helicopter. The frigate was underway and Intrepid was already launching from SuRi's port side. I pushed the frustration away as I saw Adrien and the three French crew members loading equipment.
There wasn't much I could do to help. The two swimmers were already in their wet suits and had their rescue bags onboard. The communications officer was conversing rapidly with Adrien in their native French. I just stood by as a whirlwind of activity washed around me.
Adrien quickly finished with what seemed to be his passenger briefing. He yelled to the SuRi launch crew to get into their positions. He just motioned me to back up.
There was nothing left for me to do. "This really sucks," I said to no one. I turned and went back to bridge.
At least I could help with the ship's radio. The Captain was on SuRi's marine radio to the helicopter and crew when I arrived. He authorized Adrien to start the turbine.
That's when it struck me that use of the aviation radio would be completely unnecessary. The helicopter had marine band. Adrien could stay in touch with SuRi, the frigate and the Intrepid without resorting to the VHF radio. We were outside of the local control zone so he wouldn't even have to talk to flight controllers. I added that to my reasons for feeling like nothing but a spectator.
Regardless, I was determined to remain involved until I was dismissed. I went to the VHF radio and made sure it was ready and tuned to the right frequency. It was, but Adrien was using the marine band.
Time dragged as we waited. Finally Adrien reported, "We have the wreck in sight. It's on the reef and it does appear to be breaking up."
"Copy," the Captain replied.
The frigate captain came over the radio. He and Adrien had an abbreviated conversation in French. When they finished, Adrien reported in English that the wreck was near the edge of a cut in the reef. He would drop the swimmers into the cut and they would try to approach the wrecked boat around the outside of the reef to see if they could get to it. "It looks very bad," he said finally.
"When the Intrepid arrives, please advise Clinton to maneuver into the cut," the Captain replied. "From there he can standby to pick up passengers if the swimmers can get them off." Adrien acknowledged.
The radio went quiet. When he could no longer stand it the Captain called Adrien for an update.
"The swimmers have made it to the boat. I'm waiting for their call. I can see the Intrepid. It looks like it is still at least 20 minutes out. Standby."
We waited. And waited.
Finally, "SuRi, SuRi, SuRi. Heli calling SuRi."
The Captain replied, "Go ahead, Heli."
"We have a problem, Captain. The swimmers are aboard. The sail boat is not going to last much longer. The boat captain is dead. One passenger, a child, is seriously injured and needs immediate evacuation.
"Roger. Can you direct the Intrepid into a close position?"
"Negative. The surf is very rough. It will have to position inside the cut."
"Can you get low enough to pick up the survivors?"
"Negative. The boat is rocking and it will be very hazardous."
"Okay. Have the Intrepid pull up as close as possible on the ocean side. Clinton can let out a float and line to the wreck. He can try to pull the passengers onboard through the surf."
"No, no, no. The surf is too much."
"Okay, well, how about sending the float and letting him pull them into the cut. He can board them from the cut."
"Perhaps that is possible with the help of the swimmers. Standby."
We waited again.
"Okay," Adrien called. "The swimmers say they can try to do that. The child, however, is in need of urgent evacuation with a serious head injury. He needs to get to a hospital immediately."
I asked the Captain, "What about a local guard helicopter with lift capability? Maybe they have one at the military base?"
The Captain relayed the idea to Adrien. "The frigate captain has requested assistance. The local emergency helicopter is not available. It's down for maintenance," Adrien replied.
"That is typical," the Captain mumbled. He called, "We are running out of ideas. What do you recommend?"
Silence was the reply. After a few minutes Adrien came back on. "Okay, I've talked with the swimmers. If the child doesn't get help soon he may die. Can you send the seaplane?"
The Captain turned to me and said nothing.
"Um, I, uh, I don't know what I can do. It is very likely to damage or sink the SeaRey in those conditions."
The Captain said nothing. He just stared at me.
Then it struck me. The SeaRey was expendable. "Okay, you know what, I'm just going to go and see what I can do. It's probably futile, but I'll go have a look."
The Captain had just one word in answer: "Go!"
I turned and raced downstairs to the SeaRey. When I got to the airplane two crew were there waiting to release it. I jumped in. "Let me loose."
"Go get 'em."
"I'm going to try."
And I was off. Dropping the flaps to sail away from SuRi got me going backwards in a hurry. The wings whipped from side to side in the turbulent air behind the yacht. The port float smacked the water and started to submerge. I had to kick the rudder hard and throw in aileron to keep it from disappearing below the water. The wing slowly came back up.
I started the engine. It had gotten cold from sitting most of the afternoon. There was no time to leave it idling to warm up as I was rapidly being pushed back into some really rough water. When I had clearance from the hulking bulk of SuRi, I jammed the throttle full forward.
The seaplane immediately jumped onto step and accelerated to lift off. There were a few hard jolts, but we levitated off the water.
Now the problems became a lot more serious. The wind roiled over the tall hills surrounding the protected bay. It pushed the airplane downward again and again in hard hitting bursts. I accelerated and turned as gently as I could back out of the bay.
It was just beginning to look like I would miss planting the SeaRey on the mountainside when it happened. The wind slammed the port wing up to vertical. All I could see looking down through the starboard float was jungle. Reflexively I kick the right rudder while letting the nose fall. In an agonizing low g fall the palms below looked like they were going to jump into the cockpit. Just before that could happen, the airplane righted itself and squirted out into the open water with its pilot hanging on for dear life.
I was shaking. The radio crackled. "SuRi to SeaRey. Are you okay?"
I wasn't sure. I lied. "Roger."
"That was some kind of departure show," the Captain drolly replied. "Advise when you have the wreck in sight."
"Roger."
In my haste to depart I had not put the wreck coordinates into the GPS. I turned to follow the water around the island in the general direction as I climbed. The rough air made it very hard to put the numbers in. I had to correct the position several times. Having trembling hands did not help in the nasty turbulence.
As I rounded the island's cliffs the air smoothed some. I turned to follow the magenta line on the GPS to the coordinates I had been given. I hoped they had been correctly input.
I had just centered the course line when my headset crackled, "Kilo Foxtrot calling Romeo Foxtrot. Do you copy the heli?"
"Roger, Adrien. Loud and clear. I'm inbound your position."
"Okay, SeaRey. I'm getting close to bingo fuel. What's your ETA?"
"The GPS says 35 minutes."
"That's too long for me to remain in position."
"I'm coming as fast as I can. I'm only showing 65 knots over the water."
"Okay, I'll advise the swimmers on Intrepid. They will try to float the child out into the cut if you can make it. I'll stay as long as I dare to give you updates."
"What do the waves look like in the cut?"
"I wouldn't want to be with you when you land there."
Uh, oh. Adrien had flown with me in the seaplane enough to have an appreciation for its limitations. It did not sound good. I replied, "Please hold as long as you can. I only have a handheld marine radio to communicate with Intrepid. I need to see the situation before deciding what I can do."
"Understood. I'll hang here as long as possible."
Progress was painfully slow. The wind seemed to be blowing me backwards. I dropped down low, just above the heavy waves, to minimize headwinds.
About 15 miles out I spotted the wrecked boat. The helicopter was still circling overhead nearby. "I've got you in sight," I called.
"That's good, because I'm going to have to head back now."
"Okay, what's the situation in the water?"
"Intrepid has gotten the four people and the two swimmers onboard out in the cut. They are waiting for you. Intrepid is holding in the cut. What's your plan?"
As if I had one! Well, sort of. From years of running waves just outside of reefs I figured my best chance was landing inside the reef and hoping the water was deep enough. I told Adrien that was what I was going to try. "Once I'm down I'll taxi out into the cut to pick up my passenger."
Adrien relayed "the plan" to the swimmers and the Intrepid. He called me back. "They know your plan. Hurry. They don't think the child will last much longer. He's got a serious head injury and the medic thinks his brain may be swelling. Nothing is broken. He's stable now and they've put an inflatable neck stabilizer on him."
"Roger. I have my portable marine radio. I'll contact Intrepid when I'm down."
"I'm heading back now. I'll maintain radio contact as long as I can. Good luck."
If I get down, I should have said. And I'd need a lot of luck. I saw what I expected to see. Huge waves crashing into the reef. A shallow flat area at the reef's interior boiling white from the tortured water. And rapidly rising wind-whipped waves to the downwind side of the reef. The water in the cut was impossible: the same huge waves from outside with frosted wind-blown tops.
There was no time to be wasted studying the landing problem. I turned downwind across the reef while watching the water. The reef looked really shallow, with some coral popping out of the shallow, foaming water in subdued swell. The only relatively quiet water was a narrow band just downwind of the reef. There was none where the ocean swell in the cut refracted around the inward edge of the reef.
I turned into the wind and lined up just outside the area of refracted waves. The unknown and potentially hull shattering shallow whitewater was too scary. I decided I'd just slow the plane down as much as I dared, hang it on the prop and touch down as close to the inside edge of the whitewater as I dared. The tradeoff between increasing wave height and distance to the reef was going to be a close call. At least the strong wind was smooth, having no interruptions over its travels from its distant origin.
Dropping the seaplane even lower to an inch or two above the wave tops, I approached the inside reef. The waves below loomed ever larger as I got lower. When I got close enough to the reef that I was scared to death of running into the shallows I touched down and chopped the power.
With three hard bashes I was down, but I was running into the edge of the shallow reef. I killed the engine. The seaplane coasted up to the foam covered water. I gritted my teeth expecting a reef crunching stop. There was no sound but the wind as it pushed the plane to a short stop, and then backwards. I released the breath I'd been holding for the last three minutes.
The plane was rapidly being blown back into bigger waves. Before starting the engine again, I took off my headset, pulled out the marine radio and called the Intrepid.
Clinton answered. He didn't share my relief. "We're bringing your passenger to you now. He needs to be at the hospital an hour ago!"
"I don't know if that's a good idea," I answered. "The water was really rough landing and it's going be worse with two of us taking off. How about running him into the nearest shore and having him picked up with the helicopter?"
"The medic is certain there is no time for that. You need to fly him directly to the hospital at Noumea. It's on a protected bay just west of the town. I've got the coordinates for you."
"Clinton, I don't know if I can do it without wrecking the airplane on takeoff. We could end up stuck on the inside of the reef in a broken, sinking plane."
There was a long pause. "If you say you can't do it, we'll do the best we can, but the medic says it's not likely to be good enough. You need to decide now. I have everyone onboard and I need to do something."
I hesitated. I wanted to help, but what if I misjudged the airplane and the water? I was pretty sure the airplane could do it if all went perfectly. If it didn't....well, the kid wouldn't make it for sure and I'd get wet.
"Okay, bring him over. Are his parents onboard with you?"
"I'm headed your way now. And, yes, his mother is right here."
"Can you please tell her there's a good chance I won't be able to get him out?"
"Standby."
I drifted backward and watched the approaching boat. The waves had gotten bigger quickly and I had the canopy closed to keep the plane from swamping as the waves washed up onto the windscreen. The whole situation was insane. I desperately hoped the mother would see that.
Clinton called back. "She says any chance you can offer is better than none."
I shook my head in despair. "Bring him to the plane." The die was cast.
The logistical difficulties were readily apparent as we tried to get the boy into the SeaRey. He looked to be about 10 and he had gauze wrapped around his head. His head was held in place by the inflatable collar. The swimmers got him back into the water and brought him to the seaplane. As the waves rocked and water splashed, the three of us managed to lift him into the passenger seat.
The boy was non-responsive throughout the ordeal. His eyes were open, but they didn't seem to focus on anything. He didn't moan or complain as he was banged, lifted and drug over the side. He was just there as I strapped him in as snuggly as I could. The swimmers waved and moved away.
Water was now visible inside the hull. I had been running the bilge pump continuously, but it only began to catch up when the canopies were closed and water wasn't pouring inside.
We had drifted back into waves that were much too big for the SeaRey. I started the engine to move back towards the reef. As we moved that way, most of the waves washed over the canopy obscuring the scene.
By the time we taxied to where the waves were within any reasonable hope of not smashing the airplane we were really close to the reef. I had hoped maybe I could get up on step and turn crosswind for takeoff. Any attempt to turn at slow taxi, however, resulted in the wing being pushed into the water. The wind was just too strong. Not that it mattered. There just wasn't enough room to do a step turn without getting onto the reef anyway.
Time had come for the ultimate decision. We had agreed that the Intrepid would stand by until I departed. It wasn't too late to abandon the risky proposition I was facing.
I looked over at the boy. His eyes were now closed. Was that a good sign? I didn't know, but I didn't think so. That made the decision easier.
The windscreen was covered with salt spray. Visibility was poor, but it was clear enough to see we were very close to the reef.
I thought of a little SeaRey trick that might help. Turning about fifteen degrees off the wind to starboard seems to get the airplane on step a second or so faster. Maybe. Maybe not. In any case I didn't think it would hurt. As long as the wing didn't submerge. It would be a marginally longer path before crossing into the shallow whitewater of the reef.
Time for thinking was up. I had to go. I jammed the throttle forward while holding the stick as far back as I could get it. The airplane rose rapidly, then fell over onto plane. The wind was working hard to lift us into the air. It was going to be a close thing.
Too close. I hunched down in the seat as the plane raced across the white line of the reef. The plane was now on top of the water smashing into the reef swell. It was going to fly!
There was a bounce. When the airplane came back down there was a hard crunch. We'd hit something a lot harder than water.
Then we bounced back into the air. We were coming back down. I pulled up on the stick while holding the plane level as if that might aid in the levitation. Maybe it did. If we touched again I didn't feel it.
We were flying and I felt like screaming in triumph. Maybe I did. The feeling ended when I realized I had no idea what kind of condition the hull was in and I was headed to the bay for another water landing.
Looking down inside at the hull I couldn't see anything abnormal. That wasn't reassuring as I'm pretty sure the black carpet can cover a lot of evil.
Still, we were flying for now and the wind was blasting us along. I turned towards Noumea and put the hospital coordinates in the GPS. It wouldn't take long to get there.
As I overflew SuRi I called and gave an update to the Captain. "Can you please call ahead and have someone meet us at the bay beside the hospital?" I asked.
"It's already done. They are waiting for you now. How's your passenger?"
"He's asleep. I hope."
Approaching the bay I saw an ambulance and police van parked in the hospital parking lot adjoining the bay. I also saw the bay was not as protected as I'd hoped. There were whitecaps everywhere.
"So what! The waves can't be as big as those out by the reef," I thought. My optimism was somewhat tempered by the unknown condition of the hull.
The best water was next to the shoreline. There were mangroves there and a small beach. All I had to do was put it down close to the trees in the shallow water. If we sank, it wouldn't be deep.
I came down as slow and gently as I could. The water was still rough. I cringed imaging the hull coming apart.
It didn't.
Once on the water I didn't slow down. I ran the SeaRey firmly up on the sand at the small beach, turned the engine off, and watched as the paramedics ran towards us. I reached over and pushed the passenger side canopy open and unbuckled the boy's harness.
He wasn't moving. His skin had a bluish tint. I didn't have time to consider what that meant as he was plucked from the seat and carried to shore. With lights flashing and siren roaring the ambulance peeled out across the parking lot for the hospital.
I just sat there, listening to the wind, and the waves bump the battered hull around.
"Parlez vous francais?"
It was a policeman standing on the shore.
"Huh?" I stammered.
He asked again in French. I shrugged. "No."
He walked back to his car.
I sat there for a long time just thinking about what might have been. Pretty soon, though, I saw a helicopter come over and land on a nearby helipad. It was Adrien in SuRi's squirrel.
I smiled thinking maybe I could get a ride back with Adrien to the boat.
Right. Good luck with that. Well, Ann tells me all good tales have happy endings, so maybe there was to be some good luck after all. Who knows.
| | Attachments:
Inside Barrier Reefs 2019-11-22 21.30
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Though the Grande Terre is narrow (250 miles long, 40 miles wide), it has two distinct climate sides separated by the central mountain range. The west side of island has less moisture as the tall interior mountains tend to wring the rain out as the trade winds pass from east to west.
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Dry Land 2019-11-27 16.30
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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New Caledonia is mostly a, um, second world country. It would be third world except for French subsidies. Not long ago there was an independence movement. France said everyone could vote and the initiative was defeated by a mere 57% . By agreement there will be two more opportunities to vote in independence in the next several years.
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Fishing Shacks 2019-11-27 16.24
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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The distant fires devastating Australia were in evidence in the skies above New Caledonia. It also affected airline travel. Flying into Brisbane on the way to SuRi the jet went dark as we settled towards the airport. The runway was only visible at the last minute through the thick smoke.
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Sunset at Sea 2019-11-22 18.04
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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The SeaRey is a chore for the crew, particularly when it's windy. Sometimes I think they get a bit
overly dramatic.
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Hard Work 2019-11-23 11.47
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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SuRi is about to be invaded by submariners. A Dutch U-Boat Worx Cruise Sub 7 has been added to
its arsenal of toys. It comes with two pilots and an engineer. There is no room for it so something
has to go.
When the owner was approached about leaving the SeaRey ashore and only flying it out for selected
trips, he said something like this: "If the SeaRey is taken off, everybody on board will be looking for
new jobs."
That's job security for the SeaRey pilot, but the helicopter pilot has started exhibiting territorial
behaviors.
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Protected Territory 2019-11-30 17.40
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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It might be hard work for the crew, but my office is pretty laid back. Well, mostly.
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Waiting for Work
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Eric Batterman - Jan 06,2020
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Girls, girls, girls. The interior crew don't get to come out on deck often. When they do, the SeaRey is
their favorite.
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Screenshot 2019-12-02 at 11.45
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Mark MacKinnon - Jan 06,2020
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Where, where, where?
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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Apparently blocked by Internet? Or Ann? I'm working on it!
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Nickens, Dan - Jan 06,2020
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SuRi had to rush off to Brisbane to get the submarine aboard. That left me and Adrien onshore overnight. We got a talkative taxi driver the next morning on the way to the airport. While he and Adrien spoke in French for the more difficult topics, I got a quick English explanation of New Caledonia. He said NC is not a tourist destination because: 1. it's too expensive (a weekend in Noumea costs the same as two weeks in Vanuatu), 2. poor infrastructure for tourism (he must have noticed the slum hotel we stayed at in Noumea), and, 3. unfriendly people. I can't confirm the unfriendly people. Sure, they don't always put on a fake smile for tourists and say "bula" in all greetings. Noumea was more like New York City where you just don't acknowledge other people. What he did say, however, is that there is a growing crime wave among the disaffected indigenous youth. He had moved from France forty years back and raised a family in New Caledonia. He confided that he will soon be emigrating to French Polynesia.  
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Early Departure 2019-12-01 05.21
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