Just because of the joy of flight.
Omake: A Calm Day Elsewhere.
As conflict and flying bullets eclipsed many of the skies around the world, there remained some beyond who enjoyed a meek and relatively idyllic life where the joy of flight became routine and comfortable. Such is the lift of Antonin and his Nutzflugbau Wasserfloh, a light dual-wing seatractor used for shoal spotting along the tiny Capzhild island chain, an tiny archipelago on the dark sea's edge.
The cold sun glimmered like glowing pearls off the points of waves below as it reached eleven bells, near enough noon and long after the work hours had begun for Antonin, the fischer swimming out to the floatplane instead of using the pier like a land-dweller might, eager to resume flight after refuelling himself and the
'Sun-Tern', his beautiful machine. Her dual wings spanned by thinly stretched canvas coated in a near-unique varnish made from the boiled scales and skin of cod.
Sun-Tern's radiator was newly refilled with clean filtered salt-water and the inline gas-tank refuelled, so after a last swim-round inspection of the spars and tense control-lines it was time to fly.
Sun-Tern's offset broad propeller chopped at the air until its engine rotated up to full speed, thrust helped along by the simple cowling Antonin had fitted custom to his livlihood, whistling a little ditty as he fitted wide goggles over his bulbous wet eyes, a slicked oilskin jacket keeping his skin nice and moist against the drying wind.
It took a careful hand on the stick and a gentle foot on the throttle to ease Antonin's super-light craft through the breakwaters and out into the span, elevating to only a few hundred metres before coasting on the sweeping winds as he began his scouting routine, sweeping the edge of blackwater with his wings dipped to one side and an eye out for the glimmer of shoals, revelling in the break in the fogs that let in the sun.
Once Antonin spotted a shoal he would need to signal the fisher-boats with a string of flags trailed behind his craft, circling wide above the shoal's edge as the eager sea-tractors converged with their drag-nets. It was not a tedious but a boring task in some senses, though it grew tense if Antonin spotted dangerous shadows emerging from the darker depths and headed toward the shore, at which point he would need to flare red trailing flags and strafe the seabeast with the single light gun on the
Sun-Tern's upper wing, diverting attention whilst warily keeping height to evade any jets of water or tendrils that might emerge.
Today, hoever, none of such interesting times came for Antonin as he found and circled a shoal, revelling in the joy of flight untouched by the conflicts plaguing others on the mainland.
Not really related to anything in particular. Got a little inspired by looking into Flying Circus and the floatplanes it boasts.
For the curious, the seatractor here is from the
Flying Boatmen pdf -that I have purchased with a little donation-, offered by KV.
