Poor old Tassie, then again its much the same wherever you go.
Somehow the "club" disappeared to be replaced by business.
As a 6 year old I remember the days at the Aeroclub of Southern Tasmania,
Lloyd Jones was the CFI. My dad an ex Raffi was an honoury instructor on the
weekends. Sunday was family day, there was a kids playground next to the hanger,
families would go out Sundays, a barbecue lunch, lots of flying comps., streamer cutting, spot landings,flour bombing, all good fun, and as a kid you often got invited to go along with someone doing a city sight see, I needed about four cushions to see out of the old tigers. Oh the smell of Dope and canvas and gypsy major engines, no radio just lights from the tower, still got my Dads old leather helmet with the "POOF" tube attached.
This was a primary airport so things got suspended for the DC3 to land from Melbourne, my uncle was a captain based in Hobart, he'd often come down to the "Club" and join the throng in full dress uniform and bring the rest of his crew with him.
There was also monthly fly-a-ways, down to Lake Pedder for a barbie on the beach,Kids dispatched with lengths of string and a lump of meat to catch fresh water lobsters from the creek or up to Launnie for a visit to the club there, or Wynyard or a property strip on the farm, rabbit shooting or picking mushrooms. I learnt how to tickle spotted eels (Trout) out of the creek.
The thing was, it was social, family orientated,where did all that go? The fun and enjoyment, jeez I had my first crush on one of the Hosties from my Uncles crew, I was going to marry her....when I grew up.
Them were the days, pity we lost that along the way.
Somehow the "club" disappeared to be replaced by business.
As a 6 year old I remember the days at the Aeroclub of Southern Tasmania,
Lloyd Jones was the CFI. My dad an ex Raffi was an honoury instructor on the
weekends. Sunday was family day, there was a kids playground next to the hanger,
families would go out Sundays, a barbecue lunch, lots of flying comps., streamer cutting, spot landings,flour bombing, all good fun, and as a kid you often got invited to go along with someone doing a city sight see, I needed about four cushions to see out of the old tigers. Oh the smell of Dope and canvas and gypsy major engines, no radio just lights from the tower, still got my Dads old leather helmet with the "POOF" tube attached.
This was a primary airport so things got suspended for the DC3 to land from Melbourne, my uncle was a captain based in Hobart, he'd often come down to the "Club" and join the throng in full dress uniform and bring the rest of his crew with him.
There was also monthly fly-a-ways, down to Lake Pedder for a barbie on the beach,Kids dispatched with lengths of string and a lump of meat to catch fresh water lobsters from the creek or up to Launnie for a visit to the club there, or Wynyard or a property strip on the farm, rabbit shooting or picking mushrooms. I learnt how to tickle spotted eels (Trout) out of the creek.
The thing was, it was social, family orientated,where did all that go? The fun and enjoyment, jeez I had my first crush on one of the Hosties from my Uncles crew, I was going to marry her....when I grew up.
Them were the days, pity we lost that along the way.