Jannie Matthysen
It’s been almost 15 years since my articles appeared in SA Flyer. While I’m astonished at how time flies, it does feel like change has been constant and relentless in my life. In both good and bad ways.
The current chapter of my career started when I joined Bristow as an offshore helicopter line pilot in Nigeria. Shortly thereafter I served as chief pilot in Nigeria, and finally landed a promotion to Bristow Head Office in Houston as part of the flight operations management team. Although I was no longer in the cockpit, I loved this role as I frequently travelled to Bristow’s operations all over the world with the overall mandate to influence and improve flight operations in a meaningful way.
Sadly, all good things come to an end, and a global crash in the oil price in 2016 started a domino effect, leading to massive restructuring which saw most of the global helicopter operators filing for bankruptcy. Many smaller operators simply disappeared in the chaos and never returned.
My experience in the US oil & gas industry positioned me to become an aviation consultant as banks, investors, leasing companies and opportunists all scrambled to make sense of the global downturn. It was fun being an independent consultant until Covid put the brakes on my new career as aviation activity declined to almost zero.
Seeking more job security than I had previously experienced in the helicopter business, I turned my passion and side-hustle into a more formal business and opened a small car dealership. While it was fun, I always felt like a fish out of water. I missed my “tribe” in aviation, and our family dearly missed relatives and all things comfortable and familiar back home in South Africa. My family and I became Americans along the way, but the US always presented an uncomfortable fit for us.
Now, in my latest role with PHI, I’m back on the front lines flying a Sikorsky S-92 in the Gulf of Mexico. This position allows me to spend 50% of my time with my happy family back in SA while still working in the USA.
[intro]
“There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.”
Ernest Hemingway
Two iconic aircraft have always been on my aviation bucket list: the Boeing 747, and on the helicopter side, the Sikorsky S-92.
The size and old-school character of both these lumbering giants have consistently appealed to me, and I would fantasize about getting my sweaty palms on the controls of these two beasts.
The semi-permanent grin on my face is a result of receiving a start date for S-92 simulator training at Flight Safety in Louisiana. I could not be happier!
When the initial euphoria had subsided, I started planning in earnest, but soon cold reality set in… I had not flown a helicopter in almost 10 years, I had never flown commercially in the USA and had not worked directly in the aviation industry for a long time.
My employment offer had arrived from PHI, arguably one of the premier operators in the helicopter offshore industry.
The challenge before me seemed simple: spend an uninterrupted 52 days in S-92 initial training, pass a whole gambit of tests, exams, and check rides during technical ground school, simulator training, indoctrination training, and then finally company line training. How difficult could it be? It’s just another helicopter, and I’ve done all of this before in one way or another.
The first challenge was being away from friends and family. Nothing new in the life of a pilot, but 52 days is a long time if this type of duty cycle has not been part of your routine for a few years.
Then the physical realities. Suddenly I started thinking about medical issues that had never been on my radar before. Maintaining a Class 1 medical in what can grudgingly only be described as “middle age” presented its own challenges. Since my last flight a decade ago, I had started wearing glasses, and not the cool Top Gun “look at me I’m a pilot” sunglasses. I’m talking about full-blown varifocals in a frame that reminds one of angry Grandpa on a bad day without coffee. I would worry about looking cool later. Tinnitus had evolved from an occasional irritation to a constant whine, and then for some reason unbeknown to me, I was now buying pants a couple of sizes larger than before. It’s a good thing I was going to be flying an S-92 as it should be able to accommodate a “little bit” more heft in the cockpit.
From the very start of ground school, the scope and scale of my little adventure became overwhelmingly apparent. This was going to require a little more effort than just some light reading or casually paging through a few manuals. The volume of work was incredible and came in numerous formats from all directions. There were the usual Flight Safety printed training manuals, but somehow there were now more of them, and they were all much bulkier than I’d ever seen. I also received a shiny new i-Pad. Cool, I thought, but I soon learnt that this thing was filled to the brim with more manuals, operations guidelines, rules, more rules, additional rules, supplementary rules, regulations and hyperlinks to every aviation website known to mankind. How was I going to learn all this stuff, and more importantly, would I remember any of it a few months down the line?
Soon, I was reminded of the very regimented and structured nature of the industry I found myself in once more. How I had missed it, but I was also reminded of the fact that there were many ways in which to screw this up. Virtually everything is rule-based and there is a process, procedure, or checklist for almost each task and action. A decade ago, I was very comfortable in the cockpit, knew the aircraft I was flying, and felt very much at home in any helicopter operation. Now, this was different. The passage of time had not been kind to my physical being, my skillset, nor my confidence.
Not surprisingly, simulator training now exposed weaknesses that I never knew I had, and the sheer volume of studying required me to work harder than ever before. Every test and exam presented a major challenge, and then I still had to remind myself to eat healthy and get some exercise! What did I let myself in for? Suddenly, I did not feel the capable pilot I had always considered myself to be.
As I pondered my dire situation, a silver lining appeared. In contrast to the last time, I found myself challenged on so many levels, I realized that I am now much more patient than before – with myself and others. My fellow training victims had no idea how good they had it sharing a simulator with me, compared to a few years ago.
The other change I saw in myself was the evolution of communication skills. Somehow, it was now easier to get a message across without offending someone. My long-suffering wife’s corrective prodding undoubtedly had something to do with it: “It’s not WHAT you say, but HOW you say it” was one of her favourite admonishments. Without realising it during this period of distress, I started applying a few personal rules that I never really knew about. These only became apparent to me during a deeply personal post-mortem over a few single-malts…
1. Don’t take yourself too seriously
2. Work harder than you think you should
3. Take time to rest and recuperate – whatever form that might take
4. Know the people who love and care for you. Acknowledge them
5. Own your mistakes, learn from them. Evolve. Find a reason if you must, but no excuses.
6. Slow down – breathe
7. Be humble, be grateful
8. Strive to be a positive role model
9. Celebrate success
10. Cultivate a good attitude
I started applying this little set of personal rules without realising it at the time. I could only attribute it to some deep-rooted survival instinct that comes with age – it was really a matter of survival. Either try something different or fail entirely.
The results were surprising. I completed the initial training without any issues. Flying the line as a relatively inexperienced pilot in a “new” helicopter, in a complex and hostile environment such as the Gulf of Mexico, did inevitably produce some “new-guy” mistakes. Every flight is IFR, with many flights extending more than 200NM into the blue yonder of the Gulf. Apart from weather and other operational challenges, we’re also required to meet very stringent and diverse customer requirements. Once again, a very fertile environment to mess things up. Simply piloting the S-92 now proved to be the easy part!
The initial period as the new guy on the line is flown under supervision. This is where new challenges presented themselves in the form of stereotypical, crusty old captains – some of whom had been in the same helicopter, with the same employer, flying the same contract for 25 years or more. To say that they do not suffer fools, nor do they have the patience to deal with an inexperienced pilot’s mistakes, would be an understatement. Note to self: refer rules 2, 5, 6, and 10. Repeat.
Now, after a few months into my new adventure, and the luxury of hindsight, a new perspective emerges. As with most things in life, human beings evolve and somehow rise to the challenge. What seemed insurmountable at the start, now appears to be routine in its simplicity. Things that kept me awake at night, are now second nature. The S-92 is no longer a beast to be tamed, but is proving to be a kind, gentle giant. Cranky, crusty captains have become good friends and loyal, supportive colleagues.
How I’ve missed this! Refer Rule 7.