“Yeah, but it was a little underpowered,”
he said. “We burnt up engines because we
always just left them at 100 percent.”
Now picture this: Marle is totally soft-
spoken and polite, a real gentleman. Nothing
was said about landing on pitching, wet
carrier decks at night. So here was my
early “take” on Marle: This guy is really
understated. Turns out I was right.
Marle and I then went to Mike’s hangar
to see his RV-6A. (Or was it a - 7? I don’t
remember.) It’s loaded with more technology
than the last airliner I flew. I told Mike I’d just
flown to E45 with a whiskey compass and
charts. He just smiled; he knew I was talking
trash. Besides, he’d seen the handheld GPS I
had tucked away in my airplane.
We then visited Marle’s Glasair. It
never ceases to amaze me just how slick-looking they are. Slick and fast just go
together. But his Glasair was down for a
prop spinner problem that was causing
The Boyz Club, where pilots come and go for a cup of coffee
and camaraderie.
some vibrations, and he was in the process
of fixing it. Or, put another way, he was
“awaiting parts.” While standing around
the Glasair, Marle introduced me to Mike
(a different Mike). In talking with Mike he
told the story of flying from California to
Oshkosh in his Bonanza. On base leg—base
leg, mind you—to Wittman, his engine
quit. Poof! Just like that. He was too low
to make the field so he turned right and
landed in the soybeans. He thought to raise
the gear to lessen the chances of flipping
on the soft ground; he just bellied into the
crop and slid for what seemed like forever
before coming to a halt. Airplane totaled;
two people aboard unscathed. Moral of the
story? Be ready. Mike was.
Later, at Marle’s home, I met his bride,
Judy. She’s sweet and friendly. And, like a lot
of military wives, strong in character. I asked
of some of their Navy assignments. Among
other things, Judy mentioned that Marle had
taught at the Naval Academy. Yet another
accomplishment Marle doesn’t dwell on. And
they spoke of trips across this country in a
Volkswagen with no air conditioning and a
couple kids in the back—all very much a part
of the military experience.
I told Mike I’d just flown to E45
with a whiskey compass and
charts. He just smiled; he knew I
was talking trash.
I had arrived at E45 a day early because
I like to have slack in my travel plans, and it
gives me more time to sample the local flavor.
And sample it, I did. On Saturday morning,
Marle took me to the Boyz Club. The Boyz
Club? Yeah, it’s a house the owner leaves
open so every morning the guys can come,
have coffee, and, well, be guys. Is it sexist?
No. Is it interesting? Yes. Nikki was there
with her husband, Dan. “What do you make
of this?” someone asked her. “Interesting,”
Nikki said, smiling big. There are couches
and chairs about, a pool table and a big
coffee maker, and all manner of aviation
