Laura McDermid
Laura McDermid continues her stories about Iris McCallum’s early years in East Africa.
Originally founded in 1970 from the merger of Wilkenair and other smaller operators, Air Kenya underwent several significant changes in the 1980s.
Through his extensive entrepreneurial knowledge and vast experience in various business ventures, owner Nicholas Biwott played a crucial role in shaping the airline’s direction, while Chris Kenny brought invaluable expertise to his role as managing director of Air Kenya.
Sid Dirks, who had relocated to East Africa from Canada where he served as Vice President of the Pacific Division at Canadian Airlines, was appointed general manager at Air Kenya shortly before I joined in October 1980.
Rumour had it he took early retirement from Canadian Airlines, though I suspect his fondness for the odd tipple may have contributed to his early departure.
In the short time I had been with Air Kenya, I was the happiest I’d been in a long while. The company was run by some truly fascinating people, and I was fortunate enough to be flying some excellent aircraft.
Our fleet consisted of four Navajo Chieftains, a Cessna 401 (N65175, which would soon catch fire), two Cessna 402s, and one Cessna 310R (5Y-EAR), which was my favourite.
Every time I fired up her engines, a surge of excitement would run through me as the twin Continental IO-520s roared to life. As I taxied down the runway, knowing I had real power beneath the cowlings, I felt confident that I could handle anything the sky threw at me.
She was, however a real minx to land as her weight and balance had to match her speed perfectly. Too fast, and we’d float endlessly; too slow, and we’d drop like a stone. When I nailed the balance, she would reward me with a smooth, controlled greaser that was truly satisfying!
In the tight-knit aviation community, I had known Air Kenya’s Chief Pilot, Dave Leonard, long before I joined the company. He had renewed my licence several times over the years as one of the Designated Flight Examiners (DFEs). Beyond our professional relationship, I got to know him socially, as most of the pilots at the time frequented the Aero Club, fondly known as the ‘Top Office’. After a hot day’s flying, it was customary to head to the Top Office for a Tusker.
Dave, a former paratrooper, kept himself in great shape. His handlebar moustache earned him the nickname ‘Pink Panther’ for his resemblance to Inspector Clouseau from Blake Edwards’ famous series. Despite his phenomenal flying skills and wealth of knowledge, Dave was down-to-earth and lacked the inflated ego often associated with such expertise.
I had been wrestling with something for months, and one day after a few beers at the Top Office, I mustered the courage to ask Dave for advice. ‘Hey Dave, stupid question. When I fly out of Wilson to Jomo Kenyatta in IFR conditions, I can’t seem to get the VOR to pick up the zero-six-zero radial on the ILS.’
He smiled knowingly. ‘Iris, it’s not a stupid question. Because you have to turn so sharply right after take-off, set your OBS to zero-seven-zero, and then, as you fly towards the VOR, adjust the heading on the CDI. That’ll help you intercept the correct radial.’
Instead of belittling me for asking what I thought was a stupid question, Dave made me feel validated—a critical skill for any good instructor.
At the time, if you had a Cessna 411 rating on your licence, the Kenyan CAA would issue you a licence for any smaller Cessna, although you still had to be checked out on each type.
It didn’t take long before I had a formidable list of aircraft on my licence. Dave was in charge of the work rota and did his best to divide the flying fairly among the five pilots. If I flew a lot of short legs, he’d make sure to throw in a long leg to even things out. Although we earned a basic salary, we were paid extra for every additional statute mile flown. It was a unique setup, there was hardly ever any squabbling and we were a tight-knit group who genuinely liked one another.
Due to Nicholas Biwott’s roles in the governments of former President Jomo Kenyatta and then-President Daniel arap Moi, Air Kenya was heavily involved in charter flights for the Kenyan government.
In 1982, when Biwott was appointed Minister of Regional Development, Science, and Technology, the airline began expanding into the safari business to capitalise on the booming industry. At the time, tourism from safaris was estimated to contribute 11% of Kenya’s GDP, providing substantial income and employment in rural areas and becoming a major focus for many businesses.
In the 1970s and 1980s, Kenya saw an influx of private pilots, many of whom were expatriates or affluent individuals who owned their own planes. These pilots saw an opportunity to profit by offering illegal safari flights and tours, often without the necessary permits or oversight.
To legally operate a safari or charter business, pilots needed to obtain air operator certificates (AOC) and comply with the licensing requirements for commercial aviation. This meant adhering to safety standards, insurance regulations and regular maintenance checks, as well as obtaining the necessary permissions to fly into national parks and conservancies.
Franz Lang, a German national and qualified commercial pilot, based his safari operations out of Air Kenya. Since he was qualified to fly the fleet and benefitted from the airline’s AOC, his operation was legal, unlike many of the unscrupulous private pilots.
During my first year at Air Kenya, I flew many charters for the Kenyan government, transporting members of the entire cabinet at various times. I quite enjoyed these flights as they weren’t to the typical tourist destinations but to remote areas in northern and northeastern Kenya, which, at the time, were relatively uncharted.