It's a blast; a lighter side of aviation

[Parvaz]

Nearly 30 years ago I was still in my early 20s and working my first
real flying job. In a lot of ways it will probably be the best job I
ever held in my life. I had recently acquired enough flying hours to
move up from flight instructing into actual charter work. This
morning's flight was a little different. Instead of flying people
into some isolated island airstrip, I would be flying a load of
dynamite for a construction firm that needed to blow some things up.
It was all very heady stuff. I arrived at our airport before the sun
was up. The Cessna 207, that was going to serve as my antigravity
machine for the morning, had been stripped of her interior passenger
seats in preparation for the load of dynamite I was to fly in the
morning.
The first part of this assignment was a quick flight to the pick up
point and that was a second airport only 15 minutes away. The sun had
not been up over the horizon for very long as my Cessna cleared the
airport boundary I was on my way. It was an idyllic morning and not a
ripple in the air: water, islands, mountains and a promising morning
surrounded me. And I was flying-life was good! After the landing I
taxied to a remote spot to meet the man with the "goods". I looked
over the government and hazardous material paperwork and it all looked
just find and dandy to me as I confidently signed it where the pilot
in command was supposed to sign. I had "arrived" and it sure beat
sitting in some undergraduate class. The dynamite was in sacks, much
like concrete sacks if I remember correctly. I kept loading the
airplane and tying the load down as I went along. It didn't take too
long and we were done. We said our goodbyes and he got in his truck
to watch me depart.
I remember jumping up into the left front seat and looking around me
and thinking this is cool, I am surrounded with dynamite. I reached
under my seat to grab the seat release mechanism to allow me to pull
the pilots seat up to the in-flight position. I remember grabbing a
handle in my left hand and pulling to move the seat up then I heard an
explosion, a whooshing sound and then losing my vision. The next
thing I recall is the realization that I was outside the airplane and
running as fast as I can possibly move. I have no idea what my heart
rate was but I could hear and feel the blood pounding inside my head
and ears. The guy seated in the truck got out with a puzzled look on
his face. I run up to him somewhat in shock and out of breath. He
said something like: "Son, what's the matter?" I babbled together a
sentence that included "explosion in the airplane" between my
hyperventilated breaths. He looked at me and said it wasn't the
dynamite; had it have been the 1,000 lbs or so of dynamite exploding
there was no use in me running as I wasn't going to escape the blast
being seated in next to it. He suggested if it did blow that I should
just put my fingers in my ears to protect my hearing from the blast.
With my heart still pounding and sweating profusely I cautiously
approached the Cessna 207 several steps behind the man in the truck.
In my mind's eye I can still see N1651U parked ahead of me on the
remote ramp. In the background there is a stand of evergreen trees
with their tops partially covered in morning mist. The whole scene is
lit with opaque filtered morning sunshine. Surrounding us are the
gentle songs of several morning birds. The door to the Cessna is ajar
and gently swinging on its hinges that are making a creaking sound
that is just barely audible below the birds. Most of the inside of
the airplane is shrouded in some kind of mist that is creeping out of
the open door and falling to the ground much like stage smoke at some
theatrical play-it was surreal. The man with the truck got there
first poked his head in and then turned to me and with a gentle smile
said: "Boy you're ok-you just set off the fire extinguisher that's
all".
On this airplane the fire extinguisher was mounted between the two
front seats. The right front seat had been removed. When I loaded
the dynamite I had inadvertently shoved some of the load up against
the mounted fire extinguisher and moved the assembly ever so slightly
to the left. It was just far enough left that when I moved the left
seat up into position to fly the seat smacked the handle hard enough
to dislodge the pin and squeeze the trigger and immediately the cabin
had filled with the fine powdery contents of the fire extinguisher.
The guy with the truck had a good laugh.