gbflyer wrote:I am not in the 135 business, nor do I ever intend to be. And I do agree that they obviously have more accidents than the feds, but they put in a lot more hours, too. As far as quality of pilots go, I really couldn't say. I do know that there are several really good single pilot 135 operators out there that have been doing it for years accident free, having no interest in "burning kerosene", unless maybe they could someday afford a turbine otter.
GB...
You guys have some
GREAT Part 135 guys down your end of the state, that do some amazing flying year in, year out. I poked my nose into that world for a couple seasons and found it the hardest, most dangerous flying I've ever done. As long as they can keep those round engines flying and support the old equipment, more power to them. It will be a huge loss to the world of bush flying when that way of life and flying gets replaced by turbines and electronics.
But, that scenario has already happened in my old part of the world. Ted Stevens grabbed all the bypass-mail from the smaller carriers in 2003 and aimed it in the direction of the bigger (read that more $$$) outfits, basing mail weight on passenger numbers. That killed me and similar outfits, who ran small one horse shows in the C207's and Navajos. We survived on mail weight, and supplemented with back-haul passengers. It's all gone now.
USPS welfare? Probably, but we worked hard for our money, and never made much of a profit trying to keep worn out old equipment in the air. It was truly a labor of love. A love of the flying, and a love for the people and the land up there.
Now it's Caravans, B-200's and 1900's, all two pilot IFR, making GPS approaches into the villages. Big money, big business. Safer, much more efficient. Bleed air heat and comfort for the passengers, and a hell of a lot more weight hauling capability. But that connection between us pilots and the villages is gone, and the knowledge of the terrain from flying it low level for so many thousands of hours is gonna be nothing but a fast fading memory for old farts like me. The new guys don't even bother looking out the window, and heaven forbid they actually sit and have a smoke with an Eskimo in a village, and just listen and learn.
Gump