Unpublished accident report, a tale for Christmas. It was a dark and frosty night by the side of a frozen lake in northern Lapland. This year there was not even a moon, the thin crescent having set earlier. Santa stood beside a large multi-story construction based on sled runners. Under the trees a group of trolls deciphered pieces of charred paper collected from chimneys, entering data on a computer while others were packing parcels. Trolls were leading eight reindeer from the forest, the first one being noticeable for his red nose, his breath cloudy in the cold air. With frantic haste the parcels were loaded onto the huge sledge, the reindeer were harnessed while Santa fussed with the parcel distribution plans. Suddenly out of the shadows came a man dressed smartly with four gold rings on his epaulettes. “I am the EASA flight checker”, he said to Santa and “I am coming with you”. But, said Santa, “we are already at max AUW and cannot take any more”. “Just offload some cargo” said the inspector, “but those children!” said Santa. “I am here by right ” said the Inspector, “and I will have some very serious questions to ask. What about currency, I note that you have done no landings for 364 days!” The C of A is dated December 514 and written on parchment.” Turning his back, Santa walked away to check the reindeer harnesses while the Inspector looked askance at the silver hip flask tucked into his big leather belt. After time spent watching the aurora dancing in the sky and the stars rotate around Polaris, Santa gauged the precise moment to climb into the single seat. Glancing round, Rudolf the lead reindeer first pawed the snow, snorted and then with the others started to move the sledge. Still just wearing just his shirt with epaulettes and four gold rings on each shoulder, more suited to flying an Airbus, the Inspector leapt onto the front of the sledge clinging to a ledge. Turning into what little wind there was and using the longest direction available, Santa cracked his whip and the combination started to move, slowly at first and then with increasing speed over the ice. Hooves thundered, the icy blast increased, the angle of Santa’s whiskers indicating when to rotate. Slowly the combination rose into the air, climbing inch by inch as a distant line of fir trees came into view. Suddenly the Inspector said “see how you cope with an engine out”, pulled out a pistol and fired at Rudolf. The reindeer dropped, tumbling in his harness, the others did their best, striving in the cold air, their breath leaving a dense trail of vapour, but the giant sledge, a few feet over the ice would not climb. Nearer and nearer came the trees. The first few merely brushed the bottom but eventually a taller and stronger tree broke with a crack heard back at the launch point followed by a thunderous roar as the cargo of parcels was scattered in the forest. Picking himself out of a snowdrift, Santa’s first concern was for his beloved reindeer. Rudolf was alive having been merely stunned by a ricochet off his antlers. The rest were looking unhappy but uninjured. Nowhere was the Inspector to be seen. All over the world millions of mothers had to tell their children why there were no presents, only a few being delivered by the stand-by trolls. In Cologne, EASA reported that an inspector had died of hypothermia in the Arctic whilst investigating unauthorised operations.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Dec 2014 13:10:32 +0000
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