EXPAT JOKES > AVIATION

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If something hasn't broken on your helicopter, it's about to.
Stewardess: "I'm sorry, Mr. Smith, but it looks like we left your wife behind in Atlanta". Mr. Smith: "Thank goodness! I thought I was going deaf"!
What's the difference between a pilot and a jet engine? A jet engine stops whining when the plane shuts down.

Two hunters from Moscow charter a small plane to fly them to Siberia to go bear hunting.
On landing, the pilot says, "Remember, this plane can only fly with two hunters, one pilot, and ONE bear."
The hunters go out and return with two bears.
So the pilot says, "I told you ONE bear!"
But the hunters point out that the previous year, on payment of an extra 100 rubles, the pilot had let them put two bears on board. After long discussion centering on the impossibility of the thing and the disgraceful degree of inflation, the pilot takes 200 rubles and with much pushing and shoving the hunters get aboard with the two bears.
After struggling into the air and fitfully flying for about two hours, the plane gives up and plummets to the earth in a snowbank.
Climbing out from under the snow and the bears, the hunters ask the pilot where he thinks they are.
The pilot says, "About the same place we crashed last year."

There was a builder, an architect, a pilot and their dogs in a bar.
The builder says "My dog can do tricks can yours?"
"Yes" they all said. "Let's see your dog's trick then."
The builder then said "OK Bricky, up on the bar and set to it". The dog jumped up on the bar and built a brick wall.
"My dog can do better than that" said the architect.
The others said "Go on then."
"Come on Blueprint, do your stuff." The dog then jumped up onto the bar and drew a perfect set of plans for a 50 storey building.
"That's nothing" exclaimed the pilot. "Off you go Allowances."
The pilot's dog then jumped on the bar, drank all the drinks on it. Then it made a complete prat of itself and fucked the other two dogs stupid."

QANTAS - The Spirit of Australia

Sir,

In your icy, indeed hostile, telephone call of yesterday, you requested a report about the alleged proceedings involving my crew at the Qantas 75th Birthday celebration at the slip port. As the reports from the local authorities and the head of the Australian legation were undoubtedly a complete fabrication, I take the opportunity to put the truth of the matter on file.

Qantas management's kind offer to "buy a round of drinks" was taken on board by the crew who decided to upgrade the event to its correct status, so appropriate quantities of libation and food were purchased, with festivities being held in my hotel suite.

An enjoyable evening ensued but insufficient supplies had been obtained, so several members of the crew left for further purchases at a local bar. In a truly magnanimous gesture, ten bar girls from that establishment helped carry the beer back to the hotel. To demonstrate our appreciation of their assistance, we served them some cool drink. They then offered to show us some local culture, and, in order not to offend, we allowed them to dance some exotic dances.

The banging on the walls of my room had, by now, quite honestly, become invasive, and it was disturbing the dancers, so we arranged an amusing little deterrent. S/0 Brown's impersonation of the Police Officer was excellent! In full Qantas uniform, with an aluminium rubbish bin upside down on his head, he goose-stepped to each room and harangued the occupants with a very witty diatribe about disturbing hotel guests. I personally heard nothing of his alleged threats of life in Alcatraz or the Gulags, claimed by the sister of the Minister of Police whose room was, unluckily, next door.

I have no doubt that this woman was the sneak who called security and hotel management and I absolutely refute that the shout "Look out, here come the Indians! Circle the wagons!" was made. The simple coincidence of security arriving just as we stood the double bed on its side across the door to make the dance floor bigger is obvious.

The major damage to the room occurred when a group of gate crashers, whom we could not know were hotel security, forced their way in just as most of us happened to be leaning against the bed watching the dancing.

The subsequent events in the foyer of the hotel are an equally vicious distortion of the facts. I was explaining the importance of the 75th Birthday to the General Manager of the hotel and noting that other guests were fabricating stories of noise, drinking and singing at the celebration, when F/O Smith (ex-SAS) and several other keep-fit enthusiasts, in keeping with their almost monastic pursuit of health, organised the race up the drapes which hang along the foyer wall. It says nothing for the workmanship of some of these nations that the fittings were torn from the wall before most of the crew were even halfway up.

At this stage, in an amazing display of international posturing, the Governor of the city, who was attending the National Day cocktail party in the foyer, cast some denigrating remarks about Australian culture. Although he misunderstood our gestures of greeting, female flight attendant Williams rescued the situation with her depth of knowledge of local culture.

Her rendition of the Fertility Dancing Maiden in the foyer's 'Pool of Remembrance' was nothing short of breathtaking. Normally this dance is performed wearing just a sarong skirt so FFA Williams' extra step to nature was a bold step forward.

Unfortunately, during one intricate step, FFA Williams slipped and fell beneath the fountain, so we were lucky that S/0 Brown, who had the great presence of mind to strip to avoid getting his uniform wet, leapt in to help. That the tiles of the pool were slippery is beyond dispute, as it took nearly ten minutes of threshing about before S/O Brown could actually complete his rescue. Such concern was there for these two exemplary crew member's safety, that the rest of the crew were forced to assist, and I deny that this massed altruistic rescue attempt could be construed as a 'Water Polo' game!

This slanderous accusation was first put to me by the Chief of the Riot Squad, whose storm troopers had apparently been called by some over zealous Fascists at the cocktail party.

Order had nearly been restored when the fire started.

I prefer F/O Smith's version of events that the drapes had caught fire from being against a light fitting, and that he dropped his cigarette lighter whilst trying to escape the flames. Had host management fulfilled their responsibilities and used fire retardant material instead of velvet, the fire would not have spread to the rest of the hotel.

The responsible attitude shown by my crew in assisting the bar staff to carry out drinks from the cocktail party is to be commended, not condemned, and the attempt by male members of the crew to extinguish pockets of fire using natural means has been totally misrepresented in some quarters. I cannot overstate how strongly I resent the assertions made in the Chief Fire Officer's Report.

I made an official protest about these matters when the head of the Australian Legation visited us at the Police Station the next morning. However, not only did Ambassador Jones not attempt to refute the preposterous allegations made against me and my crew, but also by failing to secure our release immediately, caused the subsequent aircraft delay.

I did not know Her Majesty was to be aboard our aircraft, but I am sure that her 12- hour visit to that country was appreciated by local dignitaries and probably HRH herself. (I must mention that the local manager is far too obsequious - Smarmy! Smarmy! You should have seen him bowing and scraping. Never make a Prime Minister, that chap!)

Finally, I note that not since 'Rainman' has Qantas been mentioned in so many newspapers. (Some people in Qantas would die for coverage like that.) The main newspaper at the slip port coincidentally mentioned Qantas 75 times on its front page alone, although some of the coupled epithets can only be described as the worst journalistic excesses of the gutter press.

I trust that now I have outlined the correct version of events, we may allow ourselves a discreet smile as to the lack of social sophistication of some of these developing nations and put all this behind us. As far as I am concerned, the crew carried on the finest Qantas traditions.

Regards,

Captain......

P.S. I checked amongst the language qualified members of the crew, but no one was up to speed on Latin. Can you recommend anyone in the International Department who could translate 'Persona Non Grata'?

A plane is suddenly hit with a severe engine problem and plummets into the Pacific Ocean. The impact is such that the plane is ripped apart leaving only one man alive. After hours of swimming he spies an island and drags himself up onto the sandy shores.
Though he is half drowned and aware that he is thousands of miles from home, he cannot help but admire the beauty of the island he has found himself on. Looking down the beach he sees a figure lying on the beach, another survivor from the crash. He runs over and sees that she is not breathing, so quickly he gives her the kiss of life. After several attempts she coughs into life.
As she wipes the hair from her face he now can see who it is...its Kylie Minogue. Forever grateful to him for saving her life, they strike up an immediate bond, and over the following weeks, while stranded on the island, they fall madly in love. One day Kylie is walking down the beach and notices her new found love sitting on the rocks by the beach, staring out to sea,
with a look of sorrow on his face.
She wanders over to him, and asks what is wrong. "Kylie," he says, "The last few weeks have been the greatest of my life. We've found this island paradise. We have all the food and water we could require, and I have you, but still I can't help feel there's something missing."
Kylie replies: "What my darling? What is it that you need? I'll do anything".
"Well there is one thing. Would you mind putting on my shirt?"
"OK"
"And my trousers?"
"OK"
At this point he gets up and grabs some charcoal from the ground, and draws a neat moustache on her lips. "OK... Can you start to walk around the island, and I'll set off the other way and meet you half way."
"OK dear, whatever will make you happy?"
So off they set. After an hour walking he eventually sees her heading towards him along the beach, at which point he breaks into a sprint, runs up to her, grabs her by the shoulders and shouts: "Hey mate, you won't believe who I'm shagging'

BA Basic Flying Rules

Try to stay in the middle of the air.
Do not go near the edges of it.
The edges of the air can be recognized by the appearance of ground, buildings, sea, trees and interstellar space. It is much more difficult to fly there.

On a Trans-Atlantic flight, a plane passes through a severe storm. The turbulence is awful, and things go from bad to worse when one wing is struck by lightning. One woman in particular loses it.
Screaming, she stands up in the front of the plane. "I'm too young to die!" she wails.
Then she yells, "Well, if I'm going to die, I want my last minutes on Earth to be memorable! I've had plenty of sex in my life, but no one has ever made me really feel like a woman! Well I've had it! Is there ANYONE on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN??"
For a moment there is silence. Everyone has forgotten their own peril, and they all stare, riveted, at the desperate woman in the front of the plane.
Then, a man stands up in the rear of the plane. "I can make you feel like a woman," he says. He was gorgeous. Tall, built, with long, flowing black hair and jet black eyes, he starts to walk slowly up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time. No one moves. The woman is breathing heavily in anticipation as the strange man approaches. He removes his shirt. Muscles ripple across his chest as he reaches her, and extends the arm holding his shirt to the trembling woman, and whispers: "Iron this."

Who says pilots and controllers have no sense of humour?
The following are accounts of actual exchanges between airline and control towers from around the world:

During taxi, the crew of a US Air departure flight to Ft. Lauderdale made a wrong turn and came nose to nose with a United 727. The irate ground controller (a female) lashed out at the US Air crew screaming "US Air 2771, where are you going? I told you to turn right on "Charlie" taxi way; you turned right on "Delta". Stop right there. I know it's difficult to tell the difference between C's and D's but get it right". Continuing her lashing to the embarrassed crew, she was now shouting hysterically, "God, you've screwed everything up; it'll take forever to sort this out. You stay right there and don't move until I tell you to. You can expect progressive taxi instructions in about half an hour and I want you to go exactly where I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you. You got that, US Air 2771??"
The humbled crew responded: "Yes Ma'am". Naturally, the "ground control" frequency went terribly silent after the verbal bashing of US Air Flight 2771. No one wanted to engage the irate ground controller in her current state. Tension in every cockpit at LGA was running high. Shortly after the controller finished her admonishment of the U.S. Air crew, an unknown male pilot broke the silence and asked, "Wasn't I married to you once?"

The controller who was working a busy pattern told the 727 on downwind to make a three-sixty (do a complete circle, usually to provide spacing between aircraft). The pilot of the 727 complained, "Do you know it costs us two thousand dollars to make a three-sixty in this airplane? Without missing a beat the controller replied, "Roger, give me four thousand dollars worth!"

A DC-10 had an exceedingly long roll out after landing with his approach speed just a little too high. San Jose Tower: "American 751 heavy, turn right at the end, if able. If not able, take the Guadeloupe exit off of Highway 101 and make a right at the light to return to the airport.

It was a really nice day, right about dusk, and a Piper Malibu was being vectored into a long line of airliners in order to land at Kansas City.
KC Approach: "Malibu three-two-Charlie, you're following a 727, one o'clock and three miles."
Three-two-Charlie: "We've got him. We'll follow him." KC Approach:
"Delta 105, your traffic to follow is a Malibu, eleven o'clock and three miles.
Do you have that traffic?"
Delta 105 (long pause and then in a thick southern drawl): "Well...I've got something down there. Can't quite tell if it's a Malibu or a Chevelle, though."

Unknown Aircraft: "I'm f...ing bored!".
Air Traffic Control: "Last aircraft transmitting, identify yourself immediately!!"
Unknown Aircraft: "I said I was f...ing bored, not f...ing stupid!"

Tower: "Eastern 702, cleared for takeoff, contact Departure on 124.7."
Eastern 702: "Tower, Eastern 702 switching to Departure ... by the way, after we lifted off, we saw some kind of dead animal on the far end of the runway."
Tower: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff, contact Departure on 124.7; did you copy the report from Eastern?"
Continental 635: "Continental 635, cleared for takeoff roger; and yes, we copied Eastern and we've already notified our caterers."

O'Hare Approach Control: "United 329 Heavy, your traffic is a Fokker, one o'clock, 3 miles, eastbound."
United 329: "Approach, I've always wanted to say this...I've got that Fokker in sight."

The German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are a short-tempered lot.
They not only expect one to know one's gate parking location but how to get there without any assistance from them. So it was with some amusement that we (a PanAm 747) listened to the following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways 747 (call sign "Speedbird 206") after landing:
Speedbird 206: "Top of the morning Frankfurt, Speedbird 206 clear of the active runway."
Ground: "Guten morgen! You vill taxi to your gate!" The big British Airways 747 pulled onto the main taxi way and slowed to a stop.
Ground: "Speedbird, do you not know vare you are going?"
Speedbird 206: "Stand by a moment ground, I'm looking up our gate location now."
Ground (with some arrogant impatience): "Speedbird 206, haff you never flown to Frankfurt before?!?"
Speedbird 206 (cooly): "Yes, I have, in 1944. In another type of Boeing. I didn't stop."

I was a Pan Am 727 Flight Engineer waiting for start clearance in Munich, Germany. I was listening to the radio since I was the junior crew member. This was the conversation I overheard: (I don't recall call signs any longer)
Lufthansa: (In German) "Ground, what is our start clearance time?"
Ground: (In English) "If you want an answer you must speak English."
Lufthansa: (In English) "I am a German, flying a German airplane, in Germany. Why must I speak English?"
Beautiful English Accent: (before ground could answer) "Because you lost the bloody war

PILOT: Control tower, what time is it please?
CONTROLLER: Who are you flying for?
PILOT: Why does that matter?
CONTROLLER: If you're Air Force it's 15 hundred hours, if you're BA it's 3 o'clock, if you're Swiss Air its 15 03 and if you're with Virgin its Thursday.

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