The Mile High Club
On a run between Macau and Saigon I joined the Mile High Club. This is a unique club that has no overheads, no joining fee and consequently no reminder of overdue subscriptions. It is in reality a club that depends on honesty and if one discusses such membership with one’s peers (not recommended) one is not only misbelieved but also branded a cad. Of course, this merely demonstrates the mean nature of one’s colleagues.
In my day it was the preserve of the early aviator and required a degree of agility that rivalled a top-billed doublejointed circus performer.
There were other requirements - the deed must be performed at or above 5,000 feet, preferably in severe to moderate turbulence without the restraint of a seat belt. The aeroplanes of that era had no soundproofing, and regrettably, this led to a certain restraint, for any squeals of delight invariably brought a worthless performance critique from the voyeurs. My initiation took place in the top bunk of a Catalina with a backdrop of boxed gold bullion. My initiator was a petite French girl, the mistress of a prominent Saigon Government official. She was returning from a short holiday in Macau and filled every qualification of my youthful dreams.
In my day it was the preserve of the early aviator and required a degree of agility that rivalled a top-billed doublejointed circus performer.
There were other requirements - the deed must be performed at or above 5,000 feet, preferably in severe to moderate turbulence without the restraint of a seat belt. The aeroplanes of that era had no soundproofing, and regrettably, this led to a certain restraint, for any squeals of delight invariably brought a worthless performance critique from the voyeurs. My initiation took place in the top bunk of a Catalina with a backdrop of boxed gold bullion. My initiator was a petite French girl, the mistress of a prominent Saigon Government official. She was returning from a short holiday in Macau and filled every qualification of my youthful dreams.
My skipper, who rarely made a mistake, assigned me the duty of seeing her aboard. If he had seen her he would not have shared that gorgeous package of pulchritude. I helped her into the top bunk and placed her small overnight bag beside her.
When we reached the top of the climb the skipper suggested I should take a break for the first couple of hours. I sauntered back and curled up in the lower bunk. Soon a tiny hand touched me on the shoulder and a soft voice asked if I would sit beside her - she was a little nervous. Up I climbed, with the simple intention of calming her fears. But, talk was far from her mind, and soon we were thrashing around. As I climbed from the bunk I expressed the hope that I had helped her to settle down - with a demure lowering of her eyelids she assured me that I had.
I hoped that my slide from the straight and narrow (no pun intended) had gone unnoticed and later returned to the co-pilot’s seat. Propped against the backrest were three white placards each with a bold printed number.
I felt that the one that read 5 showed a modicum of malevolence, but the others revived my faith in human fair play – each carried the figure 9½. It seemed the flight engineer, who is trained to find unusual vibrations, had traced, witnessed and then shared my vigorous therapy with the others.
When we reached the top of the climb the skipper suggested I should take a break for the first couple of hours. I sauntered back and curled up in the lower bunk. Soon a tiny hand touched me on the shoulder and a soft voice asked if I would sit beside her - she was a little nervous. Up I climbed, with the simple intention of calming her fears. But, talk was far from her mind, and soon we were thrashing around. As I climbed from the bunk I expressed the hope that I had helped her to settle down - with a demure lowering of her eyelids she assured me that I had.
I hoped that my slide from the straight and narrow (no pun intended) had gone unnoticed and later returned to the co-pilot’s seat. Propped against the backrest were three white placards each with a bold printed number.
I felt that the one that read 5 showed a modicum of malevolence, but the others revived my faith in human fair play – each carried the figure 9½. It seemed the flight engineer, who is trained to find unusual vibrations, had traced, witnessed and then shared my vigorous therapy with the others.