Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Planes in the night.
I walked out yesterday evening (in the dark about 6.30) in the howling wind and driving rain to open the gate for Barbs. In the sky was a plane - visible by the three questing spotlights on it's wings - it was flying very slowly, heading into the wind, turning left and right - obviously trying to see landmarks - such as the lights of Whitemark (not a big town, or that well-lit up). I stood and watched like a paralysed man at an impending train-wreck. They came lower and as a car came down the road straight towards them - they must have been 300 feet up by this time, seemed to gain confidence and flew on. Barbs arrived a little later, and was passed by the island ambulance, so I think it could have been the flying doctor. They took off again shortly after (in truly atrocious weather). I can't tell you how much we Islanders love and respect that service. That weather would have meant stay here and die, once. We're very isolated here, without the planes. The once a week ferry did not make it across last night, as the weather is too bad to sail. So long-life milk is the order of the day, but compared to not having a flying ambulance service, that's irrelevant. The weather is bad enough to give us our longest power failure since we've been here, about 3 hours. Barbs is in bed with a fevery cold so I'm being mum and dad, and so I'd better get back to it.