Tuesday, September 22, 2009
THE HELICOPTERS OF DAWN
I love that title - I wish it could be the title of a book I have written, but I fear it would sound too like a sci-fi, spy or Vietnam war tale. Having been a sci-fi nut as a boy, youth and young man, I amassed quite a collection and my favourite author was the master himself, Isaac Asimov. That brilliant man wrote sweepingly epic stories of the future, including one called 'The Robots of Dawn' so perhaps he is the inspiration for this entry.
With mixed feelings about air bases being closed down (you just can't help feeling they will be needed again one day, especially in what looks like being a very troubled century), we were relieved that RAF Coltishall no longer operates when we came across and moved into our present home in a most tranquil location in north Norfolk. Since we arrived, we're heard hair-raising tales from people in the area of being able virtually to 'count the flies on the pilots' teeth' as their Jaguar fighters took off and banked at low altitude overhead before screaming off on some exercise or other.
Having lived in the countryside for many years we were used to tractors and other agricultural machinery chuntering about - although here in Norfolk there are an awful lot more of them and they are bigger and noisier than anything we ever witnessed elsewhere. That's life in a deeply rural and agricultural area and you accept it philosophically or move back to town.
What we hadn't bargained for are the helicopters that service the North Sea gas platforms and which buzz to and fro on a line from Norwich airport to Bacton and beyond, pretty well all day long and often starting at first light, hence the title of this entry. And our village is right under their flightpath. One summer's morning, when I had got up especially early to try and catch the odd rabbit off-guard, I counted six helicopters (and these are big machines) between 06:30 and 07:10.
Helicopters are relatively slow, fly quite low and the biggies have very large rotor blades that literally beat the air, creating sound and shock waves that signal their approach some time before they arrive and leaving behind echoes of their passing for some time after they've gone. Thank goodness they're not the truly awesome Bell 'Hueys' of Apocalypse Now fame - their mighty two-bladed rotors create shockwaves that hit your diaphragm like a bass drum, long before you can see them. A Bundeswehr (German army) Huey came in to land maybe 50 metres away from me at Rheindahlen (HQ BAOR) once and I was practically bludgeoned into unconsciousness by the vibrations.
Anyway, what I want to know is, why are so many helicopter flights to the gas platforms necessary? I understood that ships do most of the re-supply work and that crew changes are not that frequent - four weeks on, two weeks off? Why so many flights every day, then? The expense, which no doubt finds its way into gas prices, must be astronomical, as large helicopters cost (I believe) in excess of £500 per hour to operate - and that doesn't include crew and other logistical costs.
Ok, we are lucky to live in such a peaceful and lovely spot and I am lucky to be able to work from home and look out of my office window onto such a vista, so I know I can't expect much sympathy, but if someone can explain why so many flights are necessary and why they all have to fly over our village (can their route not be varied from time to time?) I'll shut up. In the meantime, if anyone's got a spare Stinger or two, I've thought of an interesting variation on pigeon shooting!
I love that title - I wish it could be the title of a book I have written, but I fear it would sound too like a sci-fi, spy or Vietnam war tale. Having been a sci-fi nut as a boy, youth and young man, I amassed quite a collection and my favourite author was the master himself, Isaac Asimov. That brilliant man wrote sweepingly epic stories of the future, including one called 'The Robots of Dawn' so perhaps he is the inspiration for this entry.
With mixed feelings about air bases being closed down (you just can't help feeling they will be needed again one day, especially in what looks like being a very troubled century), we were relieved that RAF Coltishall no longer operates when we came across and moved into our present home in a most tranquil location in north Norfolk. Since we arrived, we're heard hair-raising tales from people in the area of being able virtually to 'count the flies on the pilots' teeth' as their Jaguar fighters took off and banked at low altitude overhead before screaming off on some exercise or other.
Having lived in the countryside for many years we were used to tractors and other agricultural machinery chuntering about - although here in Norfolk there are an awful lot more of them and they are bigger and noisier than anything we ever witnessed elsewhere. That's life in a deeply rural and agricultural area and you accept it philosophically or move back to town.
What we hadn't bargained for are the helicopters that service the North Sea gas platforms and which buzz to and fro on a line from Norwich airport to Bacton and beyond, pretty well all day long and often starting at first light, hence the title of this entry. And our village is right under their flightpath. One summer's morning, when I had got up especially early to try and catch the odd rabbit off-guard, I counted six helicopters (and these are big machines) between 06:30 and 07:10.
Helicopters are relatively slow, fly quite low and the biggies have very large rotor blades that literally beat the air, creating sound and shock waves that signal their approach some time before they arrive and leaving behind echoes of their passing for some time after they've gone. Thank goodness they're not the truly awesome Bell 'Hueys' of Apocalypse Now fame - their mighty two-bladed rotors create shockwaves that hit your diaphragm like a bass drum, long before you can see them. A Bundeswehr (German army) Huey came in to land maybe 50 metres away from me at Rheindahlen (HQ BAOR) once and I was practically bludgeoned into unconsciousness by the vibrations.
Anyway, what I want to know is, why are so many helicopter flights to the gas platforms necessary? I understood that ships do most of the re-supply work and that crew changes are not that frequent - four weeks on, two weeks off? Why so many flights every day, then? The expense, which no doubt finds its way into gas prices, must be astronomical, as large helicopters cost (I believe) in excess of £500 per hour to operate - and that doesn't include crew and other logistical costs.
Ok, we are lucky to live in such a peaceful and lovely spot and I am lucky to be able to work from home and look out of my office window onto such a vista, so I know I can't expect much sympathy, but if someone can explain why so many flights are necessary and why they all have to fly over our village (can their route not be varied from time to time?) I'll shut up. In the meantime, if anyone's got a spare Stinger or two, I've thought of an interesting variation on pigeon shooting!
Labels: bacton, bacton gas terminal, helicopters, isaac asimov, north sea gas platforms, norwich airport, robots of dawn
