Flight crew LK-10 was selected to fly to the African Continent for an undetermined period of time. We enlisted crew members are never told why we were going nor where we were going. The three pilots had to know but we had no idea and we only knew that we would be on patrol. "What are we looking for?" "Anything unusual."
The first leg of the journey is from Naval Air Station Rota, Spain to NAS Port Lyautey, Morocco where we refuel the aircraft, spend a few days exploring the base and flying a couple of overwater flights. Morocco has cities you've heard about or read about. Magical city names, Tangier, Casablanca, and Marrakech. We don't get to see any of them!
After our couple of patrols we land at the international airport in Dakar, Senegal on Africa's west coast. This stop is where the realisation sinks we are in for an exotic adventure sinks in. The French colonised this and many other areas of the African Continent for years. You go into Dakar and there's French, English, and native languages spoken everywhere. Driving in from the airport you go through miles of people living in shanties. The shanties make where the poor people live in Spain look like paradise. Once you get into the city, the upscale areas have a heavy concentration of French people shopping, working, enjoying the sidewalk cafes, and in general living the good life. African kids are cruising the streets wanting to sell African masks, trinkets, gum, shine your shoes, etc. Impossible to get away from the persistent kids! Unless you go into a cafe. Not out front on the sidewalk, go deep inside the cafe. The waiters don't allow the street sellers inside. They are however, waiting to ambush you the nanosecond you step outside! And make sure your "African hand-carved masks aren't cheap wood with black shoe polish rubbed on them! A lesson a few of us learn.
We fly several flights out of Dakar and back in for two weeks or so, always over water, and looking for something "unusual." When our flight is over, we are fed at the airport in a group at long tables away from other people. French cooking mixed with African cooking is different. Usually we know what we are eating but the flavors are different. One evening we are eating supper and the meat looks like a big chunk of roast beef, more stringy than beef, and has a distinctly different taste. We start looking at each other, shrugging, some guys are skipping the meat. Then one crew member pulls a little tiny humanoid looking rib cage out of his piece of meat! That's the end of eating what they put in front of us without asking questions!
Somedays the pilots go flying and don't take the entire crew. That's never happened before. Makes you wonder? Those of us left on the ground are free to go into town or stay at the airport. Downtown Dakar is a better choice than the airport so that's what we do, street peddlers and all. We don't fly for several days. None of us, and we rarely see the pilots, someday's one, Some none. We have not refueled for several days but a pilot shows up and we he starts and runs the engines, both piston engines and the jets. Next a fuel truck shows up and we gas the plane. We are told to preflight the aircraft while we are cleaning it thoroughly. Cleaning and preflighting at the same time? Ok. Late that night the pilots come to our rooms, shake us awake, man the aircraft and we takeoff leaving Dakar, Senegal behind.
I still marvel at what you did before I met you. The stories are better in person, but the details in the blog gives details.
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