June-July 1953

RIO DE JANERO

When we arrived in Rio, we were in a different world. We moored at a pier within the naval base, just a short ride from town. On that first taxi ride we discovered that we were rich! Our Cruzeros had been purchased in New York City by our supply officer, and on the way to Rio, something had happened. We found that a few Cruzero's went a very long way, when we compared prices in U.S. Dollars, the prices were extremely low such as a full dinner at the best hotel came to only $6.00. So have a good time.

The first evening, I was enjoying an excellent Beef Wellington, when I was introduced to an American couple from Hawaii, Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Lambert. We talked a bit, and they mentioned that they had a daughter my age in Honolulu. End of story? No, because in 1956 a couple of friends, on the recommendation of friends of my folks had me out to dinner and to my surprise they had also invited a very pretty young lady who became my wife, Ms. Nancy J. Lambert. The same daughter of the couple I had talked to in Rio. But that is another tale.

The following morning, there was a disaster. Two C-54's one Brazilian, and one, U.S. Navy collided over the bay. The last 30-ft. tail of the Navy plane was sheared off and it plunged into the bay like a dart, those lucky enough to be seated in that section survived. All others in both planes died. Ours was bringing the Navy Band for a concert tour.

In the investigation, it became apparent that the controller in the airport tower caused the accident. He was controlling both planes; one in Portuguese, the other in English, ad without realizing it vectored them to the same place in the sky at the same time. That evening I was having a drink at the hotel bar, when two flyers started a conversation with me. One was a British Air Commodore, and the other was an ex- Luftwafa ace. Both were very good friends, and both were instructors one, to the Brazilian Air Force, and the other to naval air arm. Both had been training a flight demonstration team, and had a friendly argument as to which was the better team. Well earlier it the evening, I had told them the story of how I learned to fly, the hard way. So the asked me if I could get off the ship early Sunday morning, and they would arrange for me to gain access to the lookout on Sugarloaf  Mountain so as to be there by nine a.m. sharp. I agreed to meet them here in the same place the following evening. We had dinner together that evening, and the wager was made, I was to be the sole judge. My job was to pick the best team, and the loser was to buy the dinner for all of us at the Sheraskaria Del Gaucho, at the north end of Cococabana Beach, What a place, if you ever get to

Rio, be sure to have a meal there.

Sunday, I was at the appointed place, at the appointed time. When the Planes saw me, they gave me a close flyby and saluted by dipping their wings. There were obviously two groups of aircraft. One team was predominantly yellow, ant the other, green. What followed was a show of airmanship, and close formation flying that would have been liked even by The Blue Angels. The show was over in about an hour, and was stupendous. The last flyby was a tight formation of 8 yellows, with 4 pairs of greens at the 4 corners, and slightly elongated to approximate the National flag. In that formation, they all did a barrel role to the left out over the bay and were gone.

That evening, they picked me up in a taxi, and we went to the beach, there, under a huge spreading Banyan tree was the restaurant. It consisted of a covered kitchen, and picnic tables under the tree, with canvas covers, if it dared to rain. The main entrance went down both sides of a 4ft high glass walled, fire pit, in it there were long 5ft skewers with wooden handles. They reminded me of swamp cattails. On the skewers were great chunks of beef, lamb, pork ducks, and chicken. Hovering over these treasures, were three cooks with a big fork in one hand, a large carving knife hanging from their belt, as they turned, basted, with various pots of barbecue sauces, hanging from the glass in buckets. After we were seated, served with several cervesa's, they brought over samples to try, and it was delicious, we began to talk about the day's flying demonstration, as I described how it looked to me on Sugarloaf. Thy kept badgering me to tell them who I thought was best. Gentlemen, that was the best show ever, and if I have to pick the best, it was that last slow roll in flag formation as you left the area, that was a crowd stopper! They looked at each other, and a smile grew on both faces. As they realized what I had said, then I had just about the best meal I have ever had. I could not pick the best. They were both the best.