Looking Up
Published by Southern Riverina News, April 08 (The Finley Paper)
You know when there’s a pilot in your midst, because an aeroplane flying overhead will usually cause them to halt mid sentence, forget what they were saying, and look up.
It was something I noticed my father doing in the early 70s. As soon as a plane flew over, he’d be in the back yard looking up.
Dad spent his early teens in Moonee Ponds, and during the war, from the age of ten would ride his bike to join the crowd at Essendon Airport watching the aeroplanes.
Returning to farm at Blighty after the war, general aviation had made its way to Tocumwal and lessons were $10/hr. He gained his license in 1972 and bought into the Finley Flying Group. At home, he would often talk flying, with maps spread on the kitchen table planning the next trip, or sharing the last one. Guests would be treated to a local flight, and one of the family would usually jump in as well. Against this background, flying for us was quite familiar.
Driving past the Corowa Airport on a perfect spring day in ‘87, I found myself thinking for the first time unprompted “What a Great Day for a Fly”, and so it seemed the idea was borne. A couple of years later, as my 20’s slipped by with alarming speed, I perused my list of things to do, and second from the bottom (still haven’t been to China) was flying.
Dad recommended John Williams, and so packing my insecurities, a fairly lean cheque book and a silly grin, I presented myself at Toc. In the 15 years since, flying has provided me with a wonderful sense of fun and achievement, and is a hobby I enjoy sharing with my husband. It’s one of the best things I could have done.
Last year, I sent my sister Fran a book called “West with the Night” by Kenyan aviatrix Beryl Markham, attaching a note “if you can put up with the flying bits, I think you’ll enjoy the rest of it”.
The next thing I knew, she was on the phone declaring “I’ve read the book; I want to learn to fly”. It took me four years and a trip round the world to get back to my brilliant idea, but Fran is no time waster. When the idea hits you, it rarely leaves you, and you suddenly find yourself Looking Up!
Interiewing lots of Melbourne flying schools, Fran also chose to return to Toc to Williams’ and before I could say “Good Luck and Don’t Forget to Breathe”, she had done it and was flapping her Restricted Licence at me, demanding to know “WHY didn’t you ever TELL me it was so much FUN???” (Some things you just have to learn for yourself!)
Dad flew for fun, and for his work as a stock and station agent, and over twenty years logged 997 hours throughout NSW, Qld, Vic, Tas and S.A.
I still fly when I can, and enjoy returning to Toc for currency training.
Fran is hopping from one foot to the other, anticipating the start of her Navigation training some time this year. Grateful for such a wonderful local facility, we look forward to flying together.
Fran Whitty, Pat Whitty, Kathy Mexted

