By Rod Douglas 

I never imagined I’d see the day. Fourteen captains of industry with responsibility for a couple of billion dollars in turnover, mouths agape at the thought. “Fly to Townsville in a light aircraft?” What a ludicrous proposition.

That’s what happened that day. These people all know me well. We spend half a day a month together where we share our challenges, opportunities and disappointments. Decisions that affect the lives of thousands are influenced and risks are taken. Yet no one wanted to take the risk to explore the magnificence of our beautiful continent from 7 or 8,000 feet while enjoying the freedom of a security free departure from Archerfield in a well maintained modern private aircraft.

Me, well I’ve been flying for about 27 years. I got my student license at 17 at the Police Aero Club at Hoxton Park. I’ve got a couple of thousand hours in my log books now, a commercial license with a command instrument rating and all the usual multi engine types endorsed. For a couple of years, after my first failed retirement, when I was 25 I flew corporate in America. That’s probably why I was so shocked. If the same meeting had have taken place in the States, I know the response I would have got. People climbing over one another to get the free seats.

And it just shouldn’t be so. Australia has the best flying conditions in the world. Australians are courageous people. So why do so many of Australia’s business people see light aircraft as a source of fear, rather than a tool of opportunity?

Let’s look at the flying conditions. Our mountains are barely hills compared to the rest of world. Vast stretches of flat yet uniquely beautiful Australian country. The weather? Well, if the worst drought ever decides to final pack it in and give us back our weather, we might have something to talk about. But really, compared to the weather in the USA where in the South East the CU tops in summer regularly reach 100,000 ft and the snow storms that buffet the North in winter can require three de-icings before getting a break in the storms to depart, we really do have benign weather.

And traffic. I’m always amused when people talk to me about traffic in Australia. I operated out of a single 1500m strip in Southern California called Palomar. It’s about 30 miles north of San Diego. When I was there in the late ‘80s there were more corporate jets on that one field than on the whole Australian register. We have some busy airports but an awful lot of airspace between most light aircraft enroute.

None of which means that we don’t need to be safety conscious. We do. And all good pilots are. That’s what allows us to live to tell our stories and get value from the flying we do.

As a passenger, I’m always aware that, apart from the stringent requirements that licensing and currency puts upon pilots, (and the Australian regime is as strict as any in the world), the greatest piece of safety gear provided on any aircraft is the pilot’s sense of self preservation. That ensures that I never take off if my personal minimums aren’t met. When I have little control about those things, usually when I’m on a kero burner, I trust the same is true of both of the pilots up front.

So, I genuinely feel sad when my fellow CEO’s and business people miss the opportunity for the unique experience of our country that a light aircraft brings. Not to mention, the many more opportunities that the freedom to fly oneself brings if this valuable resource was available.

In any case, it just happens that one of the CEO’s in my group is David Withers, CEO of Boeing Australia. He, being a pilot, thought it sounded like a wonderful idea. He, like me, had a very tight schedule to even attempt to make the meeting in Townsville. It turned out that he needed to be in Canberra on the Monday morning, and we both needed to be in Townsville Monday night for a seven am start to our meeting on Tuesday morning.

Which is where the freedom of flight kicked in. A little reshuffling of my diary moved a series of Canberra meetings to the Monday morning and we were all set for a grand flying adventure. Depart three pm Sunday afternoon from Archerfield for a six pm arrival at the beautiful private strip on Dick Smith’s property, Bowylie at Gunderoo. Spend the night with leading environmentalists Phillip Toyne and Molly Harris Olsen at their beautiful home in this truly unique little hamlet, before jumping up early Monday morning to fly to Canberra, (six minutes flight time), do our meetings and be back in the air around lunch time for the leisurely jaunt up the guts of Australia to Townsville. Beautiful.

Our aircraft of choice was a delightfully appointed Cirrus SR22 from Sunland Aviation. About 600 hours new, November Golf Tango, is airline standard glass equipped and a leather filled pocket rocket. With a cruise of 180 knots and just shy of five hours endurance it eats the miles in comfort.

Of course, there are other benefits to flying yourself. With empty seats you can always fill them up. I’m blessed with five children all of whom love to fly. Because I fly myself, it’s very easy to make the call to release them from school for a day or two to see how the world really works, and after a quick check with David, (not everybody likes kids), I decided that my 10 year old son Jai might as well come for the ride.

The said Sunday was quickly upon us and I’d agreed that I’d do the flight planning to Gunderoo. I have to say I was pretty excited. To many Australian business people, Dick Smith is something of a hero. To a businessman pilot like me, I was delighted at the opportunity to land at his strip and see the amazing transformation that Dick had bought to his 4000 acre property. And maybe, just maybe, to get to peak into his famous ‘toy shed’. On the way to Archerfield the phone rang. It was David. Severe tonsillitis. He was putting himself back to bed.

It was a spectacular day’s flying. Beautiful severe clear blue skies. The only blot on the copy book of a perfect day flying, were the 45 knot westerlies blowing across our track. As we tracked south out to the west of the Blue Mountains, with the remarkable light of the descending sun playing on the sandstone cliffs of the deep gorges, the chop became slightly uncomfortable. No problem for experienced flyers like Jai and I, but it could have caused a little discomfort for the inexperienced.

We came barrelling over the vast expanse of Lake George with sun firmly in our eyes, but with a little help from our friends at Canberra approach ‘Bowylie’ appeared below our nose. With a little recent rain the property was looking spectacular. Dick’s 1.1km of asphalt, with a 18/36 orientation and perfectly manicured paddocks down either side, were a welcome change from the poorly maintained strips that exist in lots of country towns.

The approach was smooth with a little sink over the trees as we crossed the fence line. As the Cirrus settled gracefully I realised that from my door to Gunderoo had taken me a touch over four hours. Had I attempted it on a commercial flight I would have just made it to the rent-a-car counter in Canberra.

Suddenly a welcoming vehicle appeared on the end of the strip and it was clear that I should follow it. Down the concrete taxiway, over the railway tracks, Dick, with a wonderful connection to his child within, has a fully operational steam train that runs through the property, and around in front of Dick’s Toy Shed. Ben jumped out and welcomed us. Then he threw open the hangar door and invited us to put the Cirrus inside. “I’m not expecting the boss until tomorrow so make yourself at home.” Australian hospitality at its best.

The toy shed is full of big boys’ toys. Dick’s Caravan is sitting in the back left corner. Front right has his weight shift ultra light. In the corner is the perfect replica bi plane pedal car. Even at 10, Jai is totally enamoured with that one. With the Cirrus safely tucked inside, there is miles of room for the CJ1 should Dick unexpectedly appear and, if they tucked that in, you’d still fit his Augusta 109 Power in without any risk of hangar rash.

Gunderoo is an amazing town. About 25 minutes from Canberra by road, it’s emerged as a favoured place for those who have to work in Canberra but who value lifestyle. The old police cells are now home to the best gourmet pizzas I’ve had in many a year and, as with so many towns close to cities, the tree changers have driven property prices into the stratosphere.

After a fabulous night of stimulating conversation on how we might be able to help slow global warming, it was time to hit the airways again. One of the great privileges of my role as president of Greening Australia in Queensland, Australia’s largest environmental organisation, is the amazing people I get to meet that are contributing their time, expertise and money to making our world a better place. The Toyne household touches a long list of organisations that do just that. Phillip in his younger, more radical days put 1500 hours on a Piper Commanche as he flew all over the outback providing legal support to Aboriginal communities: a role he simply couldn’t have performed effectively without an aircraft.

My morning in Canberra was spent in an airline lounge on Greening Australia business and quickly passed. On the way back out to the aircraft I called David. Discovering that he was feeling well enough for the second half of the trip, we blasted out of Canberra stocked up with a sandwich for lunch and a changed flight plan, calling into Archerfield for fuel and to pick him up.

The flight north was more superb weather. The wind had backed and some good tailwinds had us in Archerfield at about 3.30. Refuelled, refreshed and ready to roll on up to Townsville we started waiting. David was caught in traffic. His 45 km trip from Sandgate to Archerfield took 90 minutes. I should have picked him up at Redcliffe which would have taken both of us about 10 minutes. Just proves the utility of an aircraft within a city. Yet our cities are desperately short of airfields. Combine the Government sell off of secondary airports and the developers desire to turn them into real estate plays, and we have a very real threat to the underlying infrastructure of flying in Australia.

Consider this. The Los Angles basin (an area roughly equivalent in size to the Sydney basin) has 42 airports. The Sydney basin has nine. Melbourne and Brisbane do a little better with 15 and Perth has six.

In my time living in the States, I inevitably commuted by aircraft from meeting to meeting using the free business lounges provided by many of the FBO’s that service the private flying industry. Turning off the main taxiway, there is often a ‘follow-me’ vehicle leading you to parking with a smile and a list of questions about your needs. These range from fuel and oil checked, windscreens washed to overnight hangarage, rental cars and concierge services.

This is customer service at a level that isn’t even imagined in Australia by either airports or the many operators that make up the industry. In the US, there is an absolute understanding that service was the separating feature in a well serviced and competitive market. Over there business flyers, who, let’s face it, are spending 10s, if not 100s of thousands of dollars every year on the passion and utility of flying, simply expect it.

In fact, the revitalisation of Australian general aviation is probably more dependent upon the attraction of new generation aircraft to business people who can live with an expense line that reads $50,000 - $200,000 per year, than anything else. Those people will only fly if they receive service that underpins value for money. Make it too hard, have too many implied rules about doing business (as many flying schools do) and they simply won’t bother. They are the people who have the money but not the time and are willing to pay to get their time back.

There should be no safety shortcuts for anyone when it comes to training but service is about meeting people’s needs in the most efficient and effective way possible, whilst ensuring everybody feels good about the money they spend. The Australian industry falls far short.

Once David arrived it was time to depart. We tracked via Rockhampton to keep us clear of restricted airspace and the flight was truly delightful. It all came together, the best of all the things that makes flying extraordinary. First, amazing company. One of the things I particularly love about flying is that it seems to only attract really intelligent, interesting people. I can’t remember ever meeting a pilot I didn’t like. David has possibly the best job in Australian aviation and we talked the miles away. Having my very grown up 10 year old, Jai, in back was simply a bonus. I can’t imagine the knowledge and wisdom he soaks up on flights like this.

Second, a perfect evening. There is nothing in my mind better than flying through the sunset and into the twilight. The colours change, the world morphs from severe day, to the gentle end of day and then into the enveloping folds of night. The first stars appear. Dim the big Cirrus panels and allow your eyes to adjust and, one by one, the constellations appear overhead. The centre frequencies quiet and deep space of stillness envelopes the little luxurious composite cabin. My best and clearest thinking is often on a long leg at night.

Third, the stimulation and challenge of doing it as close to perfect as you can. On this particular evening, David decided he’d like to shoot the ILS into Townsville and so he did. Precisely, smoothly and with great skill. From the right seat just to make it a little more interesting. It was my plane at 400 feet and after we gently arrived it was time to fill the tanks and find our way to the Holiday Inn for food and a comfy bed.

Breakfast was with our syndicate group. Those same people who thought the idea of flying a light aircraft to Townsville was ludicrous. Eleven had made the trip and, while we were having an absolutely delightful time flying up, they had arrived early and gone cruising around Magnetic Island. I love boats, but flying more. The meeting was insightful and fun, although I was distracted by some challenges we were having with an insurance company on a disaster recovery from a fire that I am managing for one of my clients. Fortunately we’re with QBE so it’s been mostly good.

The meeting flew by. Soon it was mid day and time to depart. There was much fuss as a number of people tried to get earlier flights. It was then I turned to David and suggested lunch on Hamilton Island. I made the suggestion in an appropriately loud voice with everybody present.

Envy is a wonderful thing to watch. Here they were, off to the airport and the luxury of the Qantas lounge while they waited. We, on the other hand, were about to soar into the sky and delight in the ever changing picture that is our beautiful country, from low enough to appreciate it wrapped around you in every direction. As their crappy airline food was being dropped on the tray table we would be sitting at the Mantaray Café overlooking the beautiful yachts of the marina and tucking into a superb spaghetti marinara.

Having soaked in the awe-inspiring beauty of the Whitsundays, we were soon back in the air for a couple of hours of precision flying before landing back at Archerfield about the same time the rest of the crew landed at Brisbane, relaxed, refreshed and inspired in the way that only flying yourself can. Oh the freedom of flying.