Is it a boat! Is it a plane! Whichever way you view it, says Kate McAuley, flying seaplanes is fun
Decreasing standard fares, cut-rate charter flights and the introduction of ever-bigger, wide-bodied planes mean more people than ever can afford to fly. But with it has gone any notion of air travel as glamorous.
However, a small revolution at the micro end of the market is quietly reintroducing a little thrill into take-off. From London to Egypt to Dubai, nostalgists hankering after the romance of the early days of aviation are welcoming the return of the seaplane.
Not that it ever really went away. Since French engineer Henri Fabre built “Le Canard” (the Duck), which in 1910 briefly took flight off the coast of Martinique before splashing down just shy of 500 metres later, seaplanes have been in service around the globe. Following on from Fabre’s first foray into aqua-aviation, the British, French and US militaries all got in on the action and a few short years later an array of “flying boats” were crisscrossing the world’s oceans. Services went commercial and in a golden age in the 1930s and 1940s, the “Empire Boats” of Imperial Airways would fly, complete with library, cocktail bar and smoking lounge, from the UK to South Africa, with stops that included Athens, Alexandria, Khartoum and Lake Victoria. Very quickly the aerodynamics and speed of a vessel designed for waterborne take-off and alighting were rendered obsolete by a new breed of civilian jetliners. Even so, in island groups such as the Maldives, the Bahamas and the USA’s Pacific Northwest smaller seaplanes have remained an essential mode of local transport.
What is new is that in recent times seaplane operations are being launched in all manner of new – and often urban – locations to offer regular services, charter flights and thrill rides. In August of last year, Loch Lomond Seaplanes switched all doors to manual and crosschecked their way to opening the first European city-based seaplane service operating flights from the River Clyde in Glasgow, Scotland. (The beauty of seaplanes is, of course, that all the infrastructure is already in place – all you need is a flat stretch of water for a runway.)
AirSea Lines, which runs services in the Mediterranean and Canada, last year announced plans to launch services in Britain, including from London, and, on the other side of the Atlantic, in New York City seaplanes are being touted as a solution to traffic-clogged highways. An entrepreneur recently set his seaplane down on the Nile in Egypt, offering sightseeing excursions over the pharaonic monuments of Luxor, while in Dubai tour company Seawings last year launched a new operation to service the city’s ever-growing tourism industry.
“The skyline changes all the time,” says New Zealand pilot Travis Taiaroa as he guides the Cessna 208 Caravan out past the break water at the Jebel Ali Beach Resort, readying for take-off. “And almost every visitor to the city wants to see it from the air.” A statement that you’ll know to be true if you’ve ever visited the city yourself.
The aircraft is a surprisingly sturdy beast, reconstructed from an older Cessna shell, and fitted with a brand new engine and a completely new interior. “We chose the Caravan,” says Seawings CEO and general manager Geoff Prower, “because it’s the only amphibious plane that remains in production.” Amphibious? So, the planes can land on terra firma too? “Yes, if necessary, they have wheels beneath the floats as well.”
It’s a water take-off, however, that delivers the biggest thrill. As Travis kicks the engine into gear and the migratory birds scatter, the plane skims along the surface gathering speed and then it’s up, up and away. It is surprisingly smooth and for a brief moment all you can see is the blue of the ocean blurred against the soft green of the sea. Then you level off and the fronds of the Palm Jumeirah, spotted with Lego-esque mansions and the Atlantis Hotel, slides into view.
The flight progresses past the billowing sail of the Burj Al-Arab and the frozen wave of the Jumeirah Beach Hotel. We’re not alone; to our left and right a flock of helicopters burn past carrying, according to air traffic control, a clutch of VIPs. Important they may be, but I wouldn’t swap places – flying in a seaplane is more pleasant, with much more space, less noise and “the ability to land anywhere,” Travis reminds me reassuringly.
We make our way past the World, which may be one of the most talked about property developments but it just looks like a smattering of blobs pimpling the ocean from where we’re sitting. Banking inland we head over the city with the traffic snaking along the infamous Sheikh Zayed Road beneath us and, beyond, nothing but a big sandy yellow reminder of Dubai’s location on the precipice of a vast and hostile desert.
Too soon we’re descending, the sea rushing up towards us. The plane gently touches down and slides into a frothy-waked coast. There are no bumps, no long taxiing once we’ve “landed” and, when I disembark, no tiresome taxi queues. It’s a world away from your typical airport experience and as close as it is possible to get in 2008 to rediscovering the excitement of the early era of flight. Seawings tours start from Dhs795 per person; visit www.seawings.ae
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