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Captain Kitten

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  1. Captain Kitten

    Wilma and the trip out of Brazil

    By Captain Kitten,


    Flight Log
    Anyone who tells me that Brazil is a small country can go and treat themselves with a stick of dodo in their dada. Well, no one has told me that though. Literally every one I have talked to told me I'm crazy to even consider flying these legs over Brazil without an autopilot. I tend to agree. But all of that is behind me now.. We have now landed on a drag strip not far from Johan Adolf Pengel International Airport in Suriname. It's close to Owos Ontspannings Oord. (OwO !! this is a sign) A swimming Facility in Powakka that Wilma has been talking about since we left French Guyana.

    Oh, I should perhaps mention Wilma.. She's the little red haired woman that stared at me in that bar in Macapa. The stare had become more and more intense but she never faced me completely. It was as if she wanted to hide her stare behind her hair facing the plate on her table. But her inferno of a gaze constantly locked at me without even once giving the impression of blinking. I was scared. I had never been in a situation like this before. Night after night she stared. George had vanished to some jungle resort outside of the city and didn't even say goodbye when he seated himself in the back of a taxi while clenching his mysterious package. I was alone with this situation and I was constantly uncomfortably hot and had given up showering days ago. It didn't make sense to do so in this climate.
    One evening I drank up the courage to confront this miniature beast of a woman. I had difficulties reaching the equilibrium between enough courage and basically passing out. I was prepared for the worst. As I approached her she kept eye contact with me. It got so intense on my way over to her table that time literally stopped and every person in the vicinity of Macapa gained two minutes of their lives to contemplate over the meaning of existence. The effects of this added time frame in this region is yet to be known. When I finally reached her table, still locked in to the most fierce eye contact contest of the history of mankind, I uttered a whimpering "Hey there.. ehrm..." I cleared my throat. I wasn't prepared after all. "Hey, I can't help but notice..." I stopped in my words. She turned her head towards me and our eye contact was broken. Wait... what?
     
    I went from one twilight zone and was immediately dropped in to a completely different one. This new twilight zone was not much better but it was at least a new situation filled with embarrassment and cringyness in stead of one filled with intense fear. When I saw the front of her face for the first time I was struck by the vastness between the irises in her eyes. It's almost as if the rest of her face just became blurry around this single odd feature her face displayed. Like a hammerhead shark or that weird dude from that Ice cartoon. She was incredibly cockeyed... She had the most cockeyed eyes I had ever seen. Not only were her eyes far apart from each other but it was as if her eyes had just signed divorce papers and were dealing with the final settlement before finally never having to be in each others presence ever again. And then it dawned for me... She had never looked at me. She just could not see straight at all and her right eye had given me the impression of the intense stare. She was obviously oblivious to my situation. "What?" Her voice was as undefined as her face. To be honest I don't remember how I managed to row this one in. My courage binge drinking was red lining and I have no idea how our conversation went. Two days later I woke up in my own bed with a contract lying on the foot end of it that Wilma and I had signed. I was to take Wilma to Curacao. She paid well too. This could get interesting..
    George turned up to the Aircraft just in time for our departure. He was not pleased with being placed in the back but did not pick up a fight with Wilma for the front seat... One thing was her face which was just weird to look at over longer periods of time. But her voice was of the kind that just gets blurry and hard to follow along with after just a few sentences. Maybe it was the sheer volume of words she was able to release. A constant stream of words that quickly became background noise. Luckily I had a good headset where I could turn on some good podcasts and music. 

    The next days were relatively uneventful. When we landed I stayed by the plane and Wilma had her tent with her. George just vanished in to the jungle for the night and only emerged again for take off. 
    It's strange to have left Brazil, where I have spent the past two weeks to get from one side to the other and now I've already visited two countries in one day. We flew over French Guyana as if it didn't exist.. One stop for fuel and the country was just behind us.. I had plans to visit and check out the country, but it seemed so small and claustrophobic that I had already crossed the border to Surinam when I came to my senses. Wilma was apparently an eager drag racer and had to visit the local drag strip. So this is we are now. We'll probably reach Georgetown, Georges destination within a day or two.

     

     
     
  2. Captain Kitten
    So... not that long ago I purchased an aircraft ( in FSEconomy ).
    I had finally saved up enough money and was looking for aircraft online one night. I found the cheapest C152 in existence.. On paper it looked good. Located in Iran and with minimal usage for its age. Probably a barn find that got restored and now the owner got bored with it. The aircraft looked clean and the Lycoming 0235-N2C had very low hours and had also recently been overhauled by its current owner Carlos Juego Sucio who apparently was a renowned aircraft mechanic. Obviously a foreigner making a good living in Iran.
    My experience with flying was minimal. I had just about got the GA license and had no experience with international aviation but was willing to head straight for the deep end of the pool. I have great experience with traveling in obscure countries as a tourist after all. This was a late night impulse purchase and and the aircraft was seemingly located at Sari international airport in Iran or somewhere in that area. The ferry flight home to ENJB Jarlsberg in Norway would be long but interesting enough to be worth such a trip. This trip would be a great baptize in to my hobby of flying and the late night online purchase was meant to become my three week holiday treat and a smooth way of getting a cheap aircraft imported to Norway. Oh how mistaken I was... Turns out I had not purchased an aircraft in Northern Iran but in Cataratas International Airport in Argentina (SARI)! Damn these late nights with too much beer and too easy access to the Internet! This changed everything. Money was spent. And the previous owner never returned my calls or emails. After a while I got really impatient. My vacation was coming up fast so I bought a ticket to Cataratas International Airport, Argentina to straighten this fella up and get my money back.
    Once at the airport I thought to myself 'why not see what I have purchased while I am here'. And there she was..


    N5310OH - a 1982 model Cessna 152 Aerobat.
    I decided to take her for a ride and I fell in love instantly. For what she lacks in navigation aid and commodities she gave back thousand fold in charm and personality. She runs like a dream when given a top up of MIL-L-22851 Aviation Grade Ashless Dispersant Oil now and then. She's a slow but trustworthy work horse.
    On my first flight I crossed the border to Brazil and before I reached my first destination; Guaira, I had already decided to keep her. A trip home with my newly found love was more tempting than spending my vacation looking for some Argentinian mechanic. Who obviously had taken very good care of this baby. So I quit my day-job and gave my bird a new painjob fitting for the country I fell in love with her in. With the new paint I gave her a new pet name 'Lulu' (Flight attendants name on the way to Argentina) and I am not sure how registrations of Aircraft work but this is Brazil... I got the aircraft registration LN-OOB and started my legs home with a mixture of range anxiety and a feeling of freedom I have never had before. I had no plan. I basically aimlessly traveled north. It had not yet dawned on me that I had to cross a huge body of water to get home. I had seen YouTube videos of people crossing from Canada to Greenland, from there to Icelandand ending up in England. But this was so far from my mind, here where I was flying over beautiful landscapes and picking up some small cargo and interesting people along the way to cover my travel expenses.

    My love got a new repaint
    This is my world now. On my third leg I picked up 289kg of chickens. I have no idea how they managed to press them in the back of Lulu, but needless to say this trip was horrible. While being able flyers, chickens have apparently never encountered turbulence. The noise and the stench was unbearable. When I landed I had to hose down the whole aircraft and I found a couple of Wunderbaums in a nearby shop to help. Too bad they were different scents and the smell is just weird now. I need to do a complete overhaul when I get to a larger facility.
     
    I had to divert east when I arrived in Fazenda Ribeirão (leg 4) becasue it was rumored that there was a conflict ongoing in the North and thus little cargo that could safely be brought further north and to the west. So to go north I had to get closer to Brasilia. Apparently there where packeges coming from the west that had to go this route to get to the northern parts of Brazil too. They payed well but never wanted to talk about the content. I didn't ask. I needed the money for fuel and coffe and these guys were not exactly of the talking kind. Lovely coffee in Brazil by the way. Largest cargo was on my 6th and 7th leg with 289kg of eggs. Something strange about the cargo area of this little bird. It seems to be a lot larger than on first glance. Some sort of minor twilight zone area behind the two seats..

    Some stranger joined me on this flight in his own C152. Looked suspiciously like an English chap but I could never read the registration.
    Leg 8 was a risk. I am still learning how to calculate fuel properly and investigate the airports I go to and this trip was at its limit. I had just installed a AC/DC converter so I could use my laptop on the flights which helps a lot on longer trips. On this particular flight I had 3 gallons left when I landed with some pretty heavy load on board. A fat tourist named Phill Collins was with me on this ride. No, not the famous one, yet this Phill could sing too. A great break from chickens and silent farmers visiting family. What I did not know, and came to realize as I taxied to the apron, was that this airport had no fuel! Nearest airport wasn't far but with only 3 gallons in the tanks it was a risk. A risk I took after I had dumped the cargo and told the passenger to take a cab to the new destination. Where he never showed up..

    I arrived at the next airport with no fuel. The engines cut off on the flare and I sailed to the ground windmilling the propeller. Was a glorious landing, really. I rolled off to the parking area and I noticed: no pumps.. This was litterally just a dirt strip in the middle of nowhere. I was hopelessly devestated and was wondering how the hell I should get my baby home when I noticed a rusty bike and a path going over the golden landscape. After an hour or so the path led me through some large farmlands to a village where I got told by the locals that the only fuel available was 50NM away.. An 8 hour taxi ride and another chunk of my savings later I had 50 liters of 100LL fuel in a rented C182 that I planned to just ditch after I had used it to save my baby. Needless to say I was exhausted.

    So here I am. After several legs and crossing some really beautiful sceneries I am now in Maraba after my 16th leg. Soon to enter the Amazonas and probably hit the coastline to continue North. Since the 12th leg I have had George on board. An accountant from Michigan who has spent the past 6 months just aimlessly traveling around South America. He is paying me 5000USD to bring him to Guyana. He has a mysterious package with him that he tries to hide under the seat all the time. I have seen him opening it once but never deared to ask what it is. I'll probably never know. He sleeps in the room next to me and I can hear him snore loudly at night. Will be good to get rid of this weirdo soon.

    Disclaimer: this is obviously not real - this is a flight I am doing in FSEconomy and MSFS2020.  😃
    If you want - please join me in MSFS for a flyalong!
    Through my travels someone mentioned to me that I probably should make a Cherity event out of this. And I might. I am not sure for what yet but I have been fortunate enough and Threshold might give at least 200USD and add 10% on top of what ever money we will get on this charity flight. The journey is still young, so we'll figure out what we'll do along the way. I started streaming the flights. If you want to follow along you can visit my Twitch:
  3. Captain Kitten
    Yesterday could have been a seriously bad day. Not for me, but for George the accountant. I had a great takeoff in the morning sun from Maraba and followed the rivers north.

    On the way I Met up with some friends I got to know the night before, in town, that followed me along in their little beauties. When we did some close formation flying one of my new found friends asked me if George had cancelled his trip. I turned around and realized that I had left him behind.. A quick turnaround and backtracking to Macapa took me about an hour and a half. I landed as quickly as I could and hurried to the parkingspot and the small and tired terminal building. To my relief George had just arrived himself, looking very tired and had not noticed my mistake at all. I never mentioned it to him.
    So, I restarted my 17th leg north.. Now with George on board. And we did a great formation takeoff.


    We arrived at Belem late in the afternon and it was a great approach in to the smaller City airport.

    We stayed the night in Belem. The next morning I made sure that George woke up early and told him not to be late like he was the day before. I had signed up another person for the next leg. An executive with a ponytail from Macapa that had been partying way too long in Belem and missed his flight. He also had a 1kg package with him that he wanted to deliver in Soure so we would do a scenic detour there on our way to Macapa. He didn't get my joke about hurrying up so the packege wouldnt get sour before we get to Soure. He didn't get it and to be honest it was a pretty lame joke.
    With mediocre enthusiasm we climbed on board and the Executive threw a big verbal fight with George about having to be the one sitting in the back of the aircraft. I gave him a bottle of Cachaca and told him that if he were to make George and him Carparinjas he would have to do it from the back seat. George had no clue how to make carparinjas so he naturally got the front seat. They both drank eight shots each before we hit 5000 feet... This will be an interesting flight.
    And it was. I had never heard George talk as much as he did. He cheerfully talked about what clearly was a very tragic life... I only got the bit about his wife leaving him and taking his kids because he loved his job too much before his words became too slurry to understand. The executive seemed to understand everything perfectly and listened with eager while mixing up more carperinjas.

    Landed in Sour to deliver package. A friend of mine met up with us on this leg as well. George and the Executive had a blast while I prepared for the next leg but right before we were to take off the executive collapsed in the backseat of my friends plane. That is where he stayed for the rest of the trip to Macapa.

    Half way to Macapa we stopped at a riverside cafe. George had luckily fallen asleep as well so my friend and I could enjoy some peace and quiet before the last leg in to Macapa.


    The rest of the trip wasn't really that eventful. Landing in Macapa was great. I think I might stay here for a week. Just enjoy some last days in Brazil. George seriously needs to sleep off this carperinja too...


    The executive vanished as soon as we parked the aircraft. Got paid though. He left a sweaty pile of money on my seat. How the trip will be from here isn't really set. The landscape around here is a bit unison and basically just marsh and jungle. I hope to get a good route up to the coastline and follow that north in to French Guinea.

    EDIT (3 days later): There is this woman stearing at me at the bar in the Posada I am staying at. The skinny little redhead has a fierce stare that feels like she has had a grudge on me for years. Yet I have never met her before in my life. I would have remembered such a character. She reminds me of that designer lady in the Caroon The increadibles. Only with red hair and seriously croocket teeth. If I'm not blogging again after this week you'll know who ended my life. I am so close to get out of Brazil though... So close.. One more leg. Leg 21 and I am finally finished with my first country since I decided to keep my baby C152. My Lulu.
    That stare though... I'll log off here and get to my room.
    Talk soon XOXO
    Magnus

    The charity part of these flights is something I am still thinking of. But I'll get back to this when I have something more concrete. 😃
    Let me know in the comments or in my streams if there are sites you would like me to visit on my route North from South America, over Mexico and towards Alaska. From there the route will go over Russia - how and where we'll see when we get there. Here's my twitch channel:
     

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