South Pacific Aero Club

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This club is situated at 7 mile down the hill from the Airways Motel and adjacent to the runway.

Carpark outside Aero Club. If you follow the road down past Islands Nationair; Hevi Lift etc to the end of the road you will reach this club :

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Security Guard Entrance :

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Park your car and enter through this doorway :

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Inside the grounds of the Club :

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Inside the Club at the Bar :

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Behind the Bar :

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Relaxing at the Aero Club after work :

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Poker Machines at the Club :

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Girls looking in a relaxed mode :

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Address:

P.O. Box 17,
Jackson's Airport. NCD
Papua New Guinea.

Email: tedkennedy@global.net.pg

Managing Director: Mr. Ted Kennedy

General Manger: Mr. Jun M. Urbiztondo

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Armed Guards Patrol this area for your safety which is the norm here in Port Moresby :

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Separate area set aside for snooker :

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A funeral service was held today, 21st January, 2003 at St Joseph's Catholic Church, Boroko for a regular member of the Aero Club, Mike Plummer.

MICHAEL CYRIL PLUMMER (7TH JULY 1935 - 13TH JANUARY 2003)

History of Mike :

Mike was born in the United Kingdom on 7th July, 1935. He left home at an early age of 16 and joined the Royal Air Force where he was posted to Ceylon (Sir Lanka).

After his service in the RAF, he moved to Australia in the early 1960's.

In 1962 he first set foot in PNG. He undertook teacher training in Rabaul and took up an initial posting at Murray Barracks in Port MOresby. Over the years he spent time at various locations throughout the NCD.

After a short stint away from teaching he joined the Education Department in 1969. He remained a dedicated member of the PNG Public Service up until his unexpected passing.

Mike is survived by his wife Mary, children Nick, Carmen, Perry, Thurstan, Shelden and grandchildren.

Sincere condolences to his family from www.pngbd.com

Also from my husband jt who has lost a good drinking buddy and close friend.

[sixtiesrelic]

Wow! how the place has changed.

I went to the club a few times in 1969 to 1973 and it was an open air affair, pretty much reminding one of a car port.

I wasn't a member, but did contribute my bit to the entertainment, unknowingly. Being the last building down at the touchdown end of runway most of the year, it was a popular spot for the boys to drink and watch the planes land close by.

The information underground was very switched on and would quickly pass the word around when Patair had a new bloke to be endorsed on the DC3. Booze sales were high on these days as everybody rocked up for the entertainment.

I was part of the best couple of weeks spectacular amusement, probably ever. Papuan Airlines had a growth spurt and employed at least five new blokes in August/September 1969. Leigh Teasdale was a fortnight before the next four. He came from TAL or Macair and had the usual required local experience, so probably had a reasonable handle on flying.

The next four were raw, minimum hour, new commercial pilots.
Patair had just been informed that the first two locals who'd gained their Commercial licences were to be employed by them. Mincon and Aria were good pilots but, they had bugger all hours and they were the first "natives" so were victims of rabid discrimination (which was the natural thing back then) ... what to do with them??

They could be let loose in Stol's Cessna 185 and hopefully learn to survive or they could be made DC3 first officers where they could get the required experience with Captains teaching them some useful savy.

The latter was decided upon.

This posed a problem. They couldn't be paid normal wages as they were natives. (I'm talking in the language of the sixties here, so DON'T label me a racist). The fix to the problem was, to employ two minimum hour white blokes as permanent F/O's in DC3s at fifty bucks a week, so they could do the same to Mincon and Aria at thirty five bucks a week.

To give you an idea of that pay scale... In the beginning of 1969 I was a factory worker in Brisbane on fifty six dollars a week. I left that to become a cabin attendant/ (radio operator... in the Brisbane control zone) in Twin Otters with TAA. The pay cut to fifty three dollars a week was worth the oportunity to get into the industry where I might snag a job flying ... it was just as hard then as it has ever been except for a few short time glitches where shortages occurred in the airlines.

I'd been cheeky enough to write to Patair looking for a job at just the right time. The fact that I was in an airline environment flying (but not endorsed on) the Twin Otter helped. Brian "Slim" or "Soapy" O'Loughlan was the other bloke.He'd been worrying Patair relentlessly for a job after just getting his licence in PNG.

Brian and I would have "worked for keep" to get the chance to fly a DC3.
Ken Jarrold had the enviable task of trying to endorse us in the "3" and most airmen in Moresby vied for the best seats at the aeroclub to watch the aerobatics. The 3 was BIG, we'd all only pushed Cessnas and Pipers around the sky. We knew where the ground was in them.

We didn't want to crash the big airliner into the runway and judgement and common sense seemed to be left back at the mess, so we all tended to start rounding out at about a hundred feet and, as the old girl slowed down we'd get the wobbles.

Jarrold was a man of steel and would talk us down as we floated and floated. The bounces were generally spectacular as we had a goodly amount of speed on and the tail would hit the ground giving us lots of lift in the new attitude. We'd leap high into the air sometimes needing power to arrest the sink so as not to break the aeroplane in half. This would raise huge cheers from the audience.

We'd do touch and goes, meandering from one side of the runway to the other wildly tramping on the rudder pedals, before getting to eighty two knots where the odd engine would be pulled and we'd then ooze off in a flat turn towards Daugo island or Rigo, depending which engine was pulled.

It was always fun for the audience watching the runway rising up fast towards the floundering machine, down towards the southern end where it goes up hill. We were acutely aware of that four engine bomber just below the surface of Bootless Bay and wondered if we might end up near them, but Ken somehow got us knocked into shape.

We did two endoresement days each, in the late afternoon when aircraft were available, so eight days of hard drinking and ribald cheering and jeering knocked the stuffing out of the aeroclub members after work, but they loved it. Lucky for us, we knew nothing of this, or it might have been even more spectacular for the boys as we loaded ourselves up with more stress trying not to buggerup.

Anyway, thems were the days!

[Kestrel539]

Things have changed since I was there. Went from ab-initio to UPPL in the mid 80's; John Close was CFI then.Does any training go on these days?. Did about 150 hrs in SPA and SPC, these still around?
Couple of charactures I remember..." Fingers", " Stu"..Les, the other instructor.
Will never forget the flying I did out there,magic.
Got all of a 1000 hrs now, mainly on taildraggers...anyone want an old pilot?
Cheers
Ian K

[jonman]

Relaxing at the Aero Club after work :
Nice to see you haven't changed and still enjoy yourself in the usual manner, Peter Wycherley.