In what has become a routine on our flying days, we’re at the airport early, clearing out of customs and immigration and departing Bali while the sun is still very low in the sky. A year ago today it was two legs of just under 700 nautical miles each, the first to Broome, Australia–on the northwestern corner of the country–and then on to Ayers Rock, near the center of Australia.
I remember thinking a year ago how desolate this area was. Actually, much of our flying since Sri Lanka has been over water; radio communications quality was widely variable and overall, probably the worst we experienced during the entire journey. There were very few other aircraft on our frequencies, except perhaps as we passed south of Jakarta, and we didn’t see any vessels on the water below–unlike the South China Sea we’ll transit in a week, where container, cargo, or fishing vessels seemingly were everywhere.
This is the area in which Malaysia Airlines Flight 370 is thought to have disappeared, so far without a trace, on March 8, 2014. Periodic news stories on the subject still lead me to reflect on the desolate nature of this section of the globe. While I have no idea what ever happened to that Boeing airliner, if somebody wanted to lose a jet–large or small–I’d have to say there’s probably not a better place to do so.
After entering Australia and refueling, we launched for Ayers Rock–not because we were playing tourist, but because it’s pretty much the only practical fuel stop between Broome in northwest Australia and Morwell–east of Melbourne, in southernmost Australia. (For those who didn’t follow the original blog, Mike Laver–who owns the MU-2 we’re flying–is a native Australian, from the Morwell area, and will spend a couple of days there with his family.) We’re really growing tired of headwinds, too; our groundspeed on this leg is only 240 knots–among the slowest legs of the trip.
After refueling the airplane, we find that the car rental agency has closed for the day–leaving us without wheels. Fortunately, the hotel sends a driver in time for us to drop off our bags and walk to an overlook where we can watch the sun set on the iconic red monolith.
Above, Mike photographs the sunset at Ayers Rock. You can see photos of our aerial tour of Ayers Rock (and the neighboring Olgas) on my original Day 11 blog post. I also did a short time-lapse sequence of the sunset there; it’s at about the 1:50 point on the video available here (note, the page probably will open showing two video windows–if so you’ll want the lower one). Not sure why the audio seems out of sync with the images; it was fine when it was uploaded last year.