speerstrate
Ther Brits have a term, “precautionary landing.” I have used it several times when faced with the choice of an open piece of terain against a potential plumbing failure. Well done as always!
Ther Brits have a term, “precautionary landing.” I have used it several times when faced with the choice of an open piece of terain against a potential plumbing failure. Well done as always!
“Où sont les toilettes,” indeed.
Made my day. So far.
An emergency pull forward on an aircraft carrier is a big deal. It happens when a launch cycle is stopped and all the aircraft fouling the landing area are pulled forward in order to land an aircraft in distress. I’ve seen it happen after a pilot declared a “personal emergency.” After the landing, the pilot, in a “shambolic crab-wise limp,” rapidly disappeared below deck.
I swear it wasn’t me.
I learned early in my Military flying career to go when you could so you might not have to when you could not. Before there were women on the flight line I always peed on the left main tire for good luck just before jumping in for engine start.
FWIW, there are those “Little John” - “Little Jane” things. You get a gold star if you manage to get at least 50% of the fluid ounces inside the thing.
“Your Analysis Of Priorities Matters. It’s not the quality of the facilities that matter, but rather the proximity to the ramp when they’re desperately needed.”
REALLY??? Guess, what? Us women have been pilots for more that 100 years now and have a considerably different take on this matter. Perhaps next time you write an editorial it might be good to keep that in mind since you had better believe that that’s how we grade an FBO. Not all of your readers have prostates.
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The only time that any member of my crew ever had to use a collection device, SHE was glad that one was available.
Modern medicine has the ability to correct many congenital defects. You might want to consider having a sense of humor surgically implanted.
Nah, the women pilots that I know are all fun people with a great sense of humor.
I don’t fly anywhere without those TravelJohns. At times, they are literally worth their weight in gold.
Visiting in Denmark a while ago, I wrangled a day at a nearby soaring club, in a high performance tandem. Great group of pilots. Different experience than the US. My first winch launch for one, powered by - of all things - a humongous American V8. Great day, good cloud streets. Long day… Had to pee and we were still an hour+ away from home base. Fortunately I had along a wide mouth 1L water bottle which I’d gradually emptied during the day. A bit awkward but it worked. Only slightly embarrassing.
”Airport piss after dribble” cam happen because the bladder may not empty completely. McDonald’s napkins help, just saying, or maybe you’ve heard that one before. #2, in my experience, is a totally different thing.
During a different lifetime I picked up a Cessna 185 load of passengers at Ndjili International and after two hours enroute during the flight inland had deviate due to weather into an abandoned airstrip far from anywhere. So far from anywhere in fact that after landing I felt completely free to say “folks out here the entire world is a restroom. Ladies on the right, gents on the left”. Necessity was the mother of eager compliance that day.
I’ve always felt that it was the vibration of the seat from the engine running that massages the bladder and causes it to relax. Funny how, the more relaxed the bladder becomes, the more tense the rest of the body is.
Depend. They work better than a pee bottle. Saved me many times. But you still have to walk funny to the loo.
Reminds me of a story Max Conrad–famous long-distance flyer–told on himself. Max had a number of world record distance flights–Casablanca to Los Angeles non-stop for example–or closed-course records for solo flight over 50 hours in a Comanche. The question most asked of him–“How do you go to the bathroom?”
Max mentioned one of his early trans-Pacific flights. I like milk. The airport diner had a dozen small cartons that they gave me. I was halfway to Hawaii before I opened the first one–it sure tasted good–I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until I took the first drink. I thought that I’d just sweat it out–and a bit later, I drank the third, then the fourth one. By the time I was ready for the next one, the inevitable happened–I had to go. I couldn’t find my “emergency jug”, but thought “I"ll just go in the empty cartons. Hand-flying a Comanche without autopilot in the tropics PLUS the mechanics of filling the tiny carton takes ALL of your concentration! The biggest problem–How could I have more “Output” for filling the cartons than I had “Input”–all the empty cartons were full! I desperately drank another carton–it was starting to sour, but I drank it anyway, (all the while balancing the carton I was drinking, the carton I was “filling”–as well as flying the airplane)–and temporarily solved the problem–but the problem came back in half an hour.”
"I reluctantly drank the next carton–(which was getting more sour by the hour!) to make room for yet another. In addition to my normal time/speed/distance calculations, I added “range” as well–HOW MANY MORE HOURS, AND HOW MUCH MORE SOUR MILK WOULD I HAVE TO CONSUME BEFORE MAKING HAWAII? It was with tears in my eyes and holding my nose when I choked down the last carton of milk–only half an hour out of Hawaii–then RAN to the bathroom on arrival! People ask me "wouldn’t you insist on an extra engine for long overwater flights? I reply “NO BUT I DO INSIST ON REDUNDANCY IN RELIEF BOTTLES!”
Glider pilot “facilities” were mentioned. At our airport at Albert Lea, MN (just north of where Rozendaal holds court) we host a National Glider Contest each year. We get competitors from all over the world. On the years where we have the “big ships”–those that have ultra-long range (and wings to match!), they often carry water ballast. We get a lot of spectators coming to the airport (we’re adjacent to town) to watch them finish. When the glider had the field made, they would do a “high-speed finish”–dumping water as they flashed overhead. It often made a rainbow-like sheen as viewed against the setting sun.
As the gliders were being put away one evening, a family came out and said “we saw this fall off a glider when it was landing.” It was a piece of rubber attached to a tube. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that their “find” was a pilot’s relief tube–glider pilots spend HOURS under a baking aircraft canopy, so must stay hydrated–and what comes in must come out. They solve the problem with a condom-like relief tube, and rather than remove it on the ground, the pilot simply removed it and dropped it. I told them that it was “part of the launch system”–they asked if they could keep it as a souvenir. Rather than have it proudly displayed on a wall, I told them “I’ll return it to the pilot!”
Little John is your friend. My friend, at least, with a place of honor in my flight bag right next to Capt. Jepp’s big brown book. On one long flight he acquired a buddy: after consuming the contents of my water bottle, a second bladder emergency occurred, and there was no choice but to convert said water bottle into a backup collection container. When even that proved inadequate, I found that with very careful handling, those containers could be emptied out the small vent window that Mooney puts on the pilot’s side. Very careful handling.
Fromage sacré bleu! You are absolutely correct. (I guess I didn’t retain much from my half-semester of French in college.)
Back in the old days, I used to fly a very fancy, corporate-equipped, leather-lined Shrike Commander with just four club chairs in the cabin and a full wet bar between them. I was making a personal trip with my girlfriend at the time as my passenger. She had to pee. I was at FL180 with a nice tailwind and had no intention of giving it all up so she could use an airport restroom, so I told her to pee in the bar’s ice bucket, which she did.
Forever after, it amused me to hear my legitimate pax in the back saying, “Another Scotch, Ed, On the rocks?”
My first biological emergency almost five decades ago involved the FAA, fire trucks, an ambulance, the state police, and many hundreds of witnesses.
It was almost noon on a beautiful fall day with no wind or clouds. Chugging along in my tandem Taylorcraft, a weakening bladder compelled me to land on a deserted gravel road not too far from Dallas Center, Iowa. The landing was easy, but as the problem with my bladder was going to be resolved in just a few seconds, I decided to exit my airplane with the engine running. In a desperate hurry, I attempted to climb from my war-surplus tandem Taylorcraft, which even under the best of circumstances took a bit of flexibility.
On this hurried day, with my right foot firmly on the ground, I accidentally kicked the side-mounted throttle wide open with my left foot, and the Taylorcraft roared into action. I grabbed the nearest wing strut, but even with the added weight of a completely full bladder, I could not restrain my airplane, and my Taylorcraft took off, perfectly willing to prove to me that she could fly just as well without my help.
Well, that didn’t workout for either of us, and seconds latter, she was resting on her nose in a shallow, water-filled ditch. It got perfectly quiet after that. I looked about, not a soul could be seen across that flat, treeless prairie horizon, but within the shortest amount of time a parade of vehicles with flashing red lights arrived, accompanied by an army of the curious.
To make a long story short. I walked a block or two up the road and sat down, trying to hide from the crowd, bladder still full. Eventually a man in a dark suit walked up to me and sat down in the grass, introducing himself as being from the FAA. He asked what happened. I told him. He nodded in apparent understanding, went back to my airplane, took off his jacket, and organized the firemen into a team to rescue my Tayorcraft from the ditch. Afterwards, he gave it a quick inspection, removed a dented wheel pant and put it in the back seat and then explained to me that I had experienced a miracle and that my airplane appeared to have escaped any serious harm. The powers that be then cleared the road, the FAA man swung my propeller, and I flew on to my destination, bladder issue still unresolved but smarter for the experience.
Good morning.
Really nice article. Maybe I read about Ann Pellegreno a while back, it seems so, but it’s an amazing story anyway.
My Wright Brothers Master Pilot Award seems to be missing a few things: A round the world trip, tail wheel endorsement, back yard airport ……probably a few other items. Well, my first lessons were in a Cub!
Thanks
David Grimm
Paul,
Thanks for one of the best articles I’ve read on AVWeb! Wonderful story as I had never heard of Anne. The best part is getting to the end of your story to hear she is still alive. As soon as I started reading, I assumed she had just died or something, which is usually the case when these sort of amazing articles come out. Like many, I have never heard of her. It will now be my mission in life to meet her. Not sure how I’m going to make that happen, but I am going to try. Thanks again for a fantastic piece of writing!
Thanks for sharing that Paul. Great story. Reminds me of so many amazing folks from the world of aviation that have paraded through my life. Also awaiting nomination for the Wright Brothers’ Master Pilot Award. Otherwise qualified but, truth is, it honestly doesn’t mater. All I need is the aviation peeps that I know or have met.
Another great article, Paul! Entertaining and informative, as always 
Thanks for another superb story, Paul. Great to find out Ann is still writing. I remember Ann’s world flight as written up by herself in Sport Aviation soon after her return. As a kid, I thought everybody involved with EAA - style aviation knew who everybody else was and what they had done. I learned it’s hard to keep up. I also learned about those friendships practiced once a year at various aviation events.
Ann Pellegreno answered my fan letter in the mid to late 80s (I still have it) when I was belatedly trying to raise a sponsor to duplicate the Earhart flight. What red blooded male pilot wouldn’t fall head over heels for her?
Great story thanks for sharing. Sounds like a very humble woman with great achievements.
Paul, so glad you paid tribute to the Pellegrenos! Very entertaining writing!
Yes, a number of us women pilots know of Ann’s daring round-the-world trip, duplicating and completing AE’s last adventure. I look forward to getting a copy of “The Sky and I”. If anyone else is interested, a great way to introduce students to aviation, is to purchase and donate a book to a school library.
Having been around the Pellegrenos a few times your description is most accurate. Ann is very modest and very passionate. Will never forget a Saturday afternoon spent with her at an antique fly in in Ranger, Texas or lunch at a Ladies Love Tail Draggers fly-in. She is a class act.
Last year I bought my wife a delightful book by Gene Nora Jensen. The title was “Flight of the Three Musketeers”
It was a funny but eye opening account of being a woman pilot in the early 1960’s. I would highly recommend it.
Edit I missed spelled the author’s last name it is Jessen
Great story, Paul. And a perfect example of the rule I formulated from too many “Do you know who that was?” queries after a casual conversation with yet another aviation hoi polloi.
At the close of my second Oshkosh, I was patiently waiting on a bench outside of the on-field FSS, waiting for the line shorten so I could get in and get a departure briefing. A pleasant older lady sat down on the other end and starting chatting, asking me about myself, my airplane, and just being friendly. A few minutes later, her husband came out of the FSS with his briefing, and she said, “Ray, come over here and meet Chip.” I stood up and shook his hand, “Ray Stitts, nice to meet you, son.”
The “Oshkosh Rule” is, “Everyone you meet at Oshkosh is bigger than you think.”
The “Oshkosh Rule” definitely applies to Ann! You can frequently find her at Oshkosh on the porch of the Red Barn during AirVenture. Thank you, Paul, for this wonderful and factual article about one of the true pioneers among women in aviation – and a genuinely nice lady, too!
She’s on my reading list!
Two others of writing merit are Ernest K. Gann (Fate Is The Hunter, Island In The Sky) and Antoine de Saint-Exupery (Wind, Sand and Stars, Night Flight, and The Little Prince). And the Misters Berge and Bertorelli.
Wonderful story. The kind that creates a gentle smile. Thanks Paul Berge.
You might not win any FAA awards, but you certainly deserve awards for writing! And Ann deserves an honorable mention for introducing you to that editor.
What a great article. I’m going to get Mrs. Pellegreno’s book and give to my 18 year old granddaughter who recently soloed and will be entering the Aviation program at Middle Tennessee State University in the fall. She wants to be a commercial pilot and I think she’ll be greatly inspired by a woman of many accomplishments.
I just had the pleasure of meeting Ann at the Amelia Earhart Festival in Atchison, Kansas this past weekend. What a woman! She is sharp as a tack and generous with her time and stories. They say you should never meet your heroes but that does not apply in this case…she was fun and funny, sweet, witty and wicked smart, too! I’ll always treasure the time we spent together and the stories she shared with me. The only thing that surprises me about this article is that she was quiet during your visit! She’s amazing.
Readers asked if Ann Pellegreno’s books are available? Ann tells me, “yes,” and contact her directly pellegreno@hotmail.com
–Paul Berge
Good morning Paul. This is one of the best written articles about any topic that I’ve ever read. I laughed out loud several times. My path crossed with the Pellegreno’s at the Hagerstown Aviation Museum on Monday when the meticulously restored XNQ returned to it’s birthplace to be put on permanent exhibition for the world to be able to admire up close and personal. John & Kurtis the President & Curator of the museum are old friends and we helped document the return of this beautiful one of a kind plane. I really hope that Ann can come to the museum and enjoy the XNQ’s “retirement” home. Her story is amazing. I hope that you come. I’d love to meet you. The only thing I’ve flown are camera drones…but I have great admiration for pilots. It was my very good fortune to be able to take the planes last pilots, Doug & Kim back to BWI and to hear their stories. Your style reminds me of Brock Yates at Car & Driver. All the best, Mike
I love this! Ann is as smart as she is funny, and an encouragement to those who like to find the best possible outcome in every situation. I wish Don were still with us today, would have loved to meet him. Thanks Ann, for all your great stories (and in advance for your forthcoming book!), and to Paul as well, for this superb description of your time with the Pellegrenos!