Expat Tales

An article was recently published about me on Stuff...

 The 'Expat Tales' series has an open invitation for Kiwis living overseas to share their stories. There was no harm in me writing in to share my own - and it might make a change from 'I went to London for my OE'.

The Stuff writer got back to me the very next day with a set of questions, and seemed genuinely interested to hear from me. So I responded to each one, determined not to shy away from talking openly about God, Jesus, and Christianity!

Several weeks passed and I wondered if it was going to be published. Then one Sunday morning, my email was running hot and my phone was pinging.

'Would you look at what I see as I browsed Stuff this morning...!'

'Great article and photos in Stuff!'

'I read your stuff article and liked it a lot'

'Famous in NZ, aye'

'What a wonderful article on Stuff! Who knows how the Lord will use it in the lives of the readers and beyond!'

'Good job!'

I was interested to see how much the article had been edited, and to my surprise and delight, it was mostly just formatting. There was only one sentence referring to Jesus' parable about seeking the lost sheep that was removed.

I'm thankful for the opportunity to write about Christian mission work and for it to have been published in a secular arena. So often, we think we can't talk about our faith for fear of offending someone. But if other people can rave about how their lives have been transformed by meditation / yoga / a vegan diet etc., why shouldn't we be able to talk about Jesus in normal, everyday conversation? Especially if the question is 'What inspired you to do this?'

Get-home-itis

‘Moresby, Sierra Delta Papa is holding within five miles of Telefomin below 7000, will call ops normal time 45 or landed.’

I made that radio call at 5:28 pm after a long and challenging day flying store goods and passengers out of Tabubil for various airstrips - Bak, Wobagen, and Eliptamin - and was on my way back ‘home’ to Telefomin. There had been a lot of cloud and rain in the Bak/Wobagen area, so I wasn’t able to fly the most direct route to get there. By the time I was on my way back from Eliptamin, it looked like most of the clouds had rained out, leaving a high overcast layer and the ridges were clear. Maybe I would have some relief at the end of the day!

As I departed Tabubil and climbed over the Hindenburg Wall, the message light on my tracker started flashing.

"Hi BRI, wx is not looking good. Heavy build towards the wall. See if you could approach from TH low point. Heavily raining at the moment. standby on the VHF as well."

"wind blowing the clouds towards Feramin as well. The tip of the crocs tail towards Feramin is still visible as we look through the rain."

I was well in the clear and able to descend towards the Tifalmin (TH) valley, only ten miles from Telefomin. The ‘crocodile tail’ is a low ridge on the opposite side of the valley from Telefomin, and I could see it clearly, so I flew towards it. Only 3 miles away. But I couldn’t see the Telefomin airstrip - or even any of the buildings surrounding it - because of the rain.

There was a clear weather ‘pocket’ along the crocodile tail, so I slowed the aeroplane down and considered my options. Fuel - I had over 2 hours’ on board, so that wasn’t an issue. Daylight was not yet a concern. Weather was my biggest problem, but my previous experience of Telefomin was that rain showers can come and go quite quickly, so there was a chance it might clear up - especially since at my altitude there was a strong 20 knot wind blowing through as well. I decided to wait for 15 minutes or so and informed Moresby of my plan.

‘Get-home-itis’ is a phrase most pilots are familiar with and many have experienced personally. It’s the self-inflicted pressure to push on into bad weather, when you probably shouldn’t, simply because you’re almost at your destination. Statistically, it counts for a significant proportion of fatal accidents. I was conscious of this and decided that if I couldn’t get in, or the weather deteriorated, I would simply turn around, fly back to Tabubil, and spend the night there.

After four or five passes (by this time in radio comms with the base staff on the ground, who told me the rain at the airstrip was lessening) I could see some buildings that I knew would lead me to the runway. Carefully, I flew towards them, ready to turn around at any time if I lost visibility. But thankfully, a few seconds later a pocket opened up where the rain was lighter and I could see more and more buildings, and soon was able to make out the runway itself.

After I landed, I noted the time - 5:36. It had only been 8 minutes since I made the radio call to Moresby, but felt a lot longer!

Flying an aircraft is not just about manipulating the controls or getting from A to B, but also being aware of what’s going on around you and making appropriate decisions. MAF places a strong emphasis on these ‘soft skills’ using scenario-based training, which puts us in good stead when we encounter difficult situations in the real world!

The Telefomin bowl, with the airstrip to the left and Crocodile Tail to the right

My route