Catching a whiff of burning jet fuel down by the harbour, when a De Havilland Turbo Otter floatplane is landing or taking off. Our sense of smell is the sense most closely linked to memory. So when I smell that jet fuel, I instantly think of my long-departed Dad. I have absolutely no control over this. Happens in less than a second. As a child, we took Dad to Vancouver airport so many, many times, as he regularly flew for work all over Canada and the U.S. Back then, there was an outside open observation deck at VYR, where we experienced all the smells and sounds. Classic jets like DC-8s and Boeing 707s. I loved the smell of their burning jet fuel then. I love it even more nowadays.
By the way, those commuter Turbo Otters may look like pretty sedate and boring aircraft, but they are pretty high performance machines. I once watched a pilot make some amazing moves, right after he dropped off a charter group on a Gulf Island beach. He was obviously letting loose from his usual boring A-to-B ferry trips with passengers, out of sight from the brass. He made some amazing tight turns, climbs, and dives, just off the water!
Anyway, that's one of my simple pleasures. For any aviation buffs, this is the plane that brings my memories:
By the way, those commuter Turbo Otters may look like pretty sedate and boring aircraft, but they are pretty high performance machines. I once watched a pilot make some amazing moves, right after he dropped off a charter group on a Gulf Island beach. He was obviously letting loose from his usual boring A-to-B ferry trips with passengers, out of sight from the brass. He made some amazing tight turns, climbs, and dives, just off the water!
Anyway, that's one of my simple pleasures. For any aviation buffs, this is the plane that brings my memories:
Last edited:
