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Night Departure from Tachikawa 1958. |
Monday, July 12, 2004Night Departure from Tachikawa 1958.
We enter the cockpit from the maintenance stand on the right side. Our shoes scrape the serrated, steep, metal stairs. The rails are dirty and oily and we are careful not to let them touch our summer gabardine uniforms. The cabin to cockpit door is closed and the crew compartment is cloaked with a dull red glow; the electrical inverters whine and the gyro instruments hum in anticipation of flight.
All cockpits have a familiar smell. If they are cold and the airplane is new, the smell has a sharp auto body shop tang. If the airplane is old and the cockpit is warm, the sweaty smell of long flights clings to the crews seats. Its released when the crew members settle in to make their nests - the place in which they must endure the long hours of transoceanic flights. Our nest in the cockpit cave becomes our personal refuge from the elements outside.
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