The flight from Melbourne to Devonport takes approximately an hour and a quarter. The Qantas plane is a twin propeller 36 seat "Dash 8" with two rows of double seats and one aisle. I was seated on the 6th row in the aisle seat on the right. Being a Friday the plane was only about three quarters full and the window seat next to me was empty. As usual, as soon as we took off the fight attendants began their safety lecture. And as usual I took a little more notice than most other passengers. A habit I formed after attending helicopter safety training, the idea being that: in the event that anything should happen, it would be possible to snap from dazed and confused to reasonably focused with the prompting of the information recently stored in the back of my mind.
We had lunch - unusually a "Vegetarian Roll" (roast capsicum, rocket, mushrooms etc) which others complained about (no ham I suppose) I refused the coffee because, from previous experience on these flights it tastes like instant coffee. I can tell because I have to add milk to make it drinkable. I think It's likely that they just put several spoon fulls of Nescafe (or worse) in the coffee pot and add boiling water.
Afterwards I read a book; "Short Cuts" by Raymond Carver (thanks Tim), with the air vent turned on full to avoid the smell of the baby being held by its mother in the window seat in front of me.
I was still engrossed in the book when the captain made encouraging noises through the loudspeaker about approaching Devonport and an impending landing. I remember being pleased that the flight had seemed to pass so quickly, thanks to Mr Carver. And then went back to reading. Some time later, in spite of my engrossment, I noticed that an unusually long time had passed since the captain's statement. It must have been then that the plane started making funny noises and the engine changed pitch. The captain's voice once again came over the loudspeaker and said that the landing wheels had retracted by themselves but of course this was nothing to worry about and was due something to do with navigation circuitry which overrode the landing wheels. My initial thoughts were surprise at how candid the captains statement had been, and at how they could design landing wheels that would retract at anything other than a manual command.
As we came out of the clouds and over the water I thought: What if the landing wheels don't come down again. Surely then the safest thing to do would be to land in the sea. We'd all get out safely on liferafts (lifejacket under seat, don't inflate until outside the aircraft) but what about my fiddle, laptop, ereader, ipod & banjo? Maybe the plane would float and they could be retrieved later unharmed. Then I thought: what if on landing, the nose wheel collapsed back into the fuselage? The plane could go careering sideways along the runway and flip over.
That landing felt particularly bumpy, but I felt confident that I was attuned to all the possibilities even though there was nothing I could do about it. Being totally at the mercy of the skill of the pilot also seemed to have a strangely calming effect.
I walked across the tarmac, and as I was about to enter the building, an airport employee said "have you got any fruit or vegies mate?". The lady at the Avis counter had a welcoming smile.
It's basically a collection of kill videos, showing the unsuspecting deer, coyote or bear being stalked by the well hidden fully camouflaged hunter. Then the shot, penetration, distressed animal running away, and pan back to the extremely adrenalin rushed hunter. Then of course the obligatory slow-mo replay, and fast forward to the proud hunter displaying the dead animal that he was responsible for, and describing the kill with all the articulation and coherence of a football player after the match. Like all pornography, it's repellent yet compelling at the same time. A bit like watching a train wreck.
