This month I had planned to write a piece on the noble pursuit of planespotting, the foundation of which was this wonderful and widely used quote from the wise old Leonardo. It was going to be this wild, stream-of-consciousness thing about da Vinci time-travelling to a place where he could have actually “tasted flight”. You know, what with the “eyes turned skyward” thing portending a future where we planespotters should stand just outside the airport fence, eyes turned skyward and cameras in hand, waiting for something to arrive or depart.

Until it turned out that Leonardo da Vinci never actually said that.

I will let you add your own record scratch sound effect. As part of the research for this month I read an excellent article by well-known and well-regarded aviation writer David English entitled The Famous Quote That Da Vinci Never Said  1 written back in 2020. If you’re a fan of this quote or Leonardo or, I dunno, aviation in general I would highly recommend giving it a thorough read. I will try not to steal any of David’s thunder but here’s a hint: the author presents pretty solid evidence these words are more like 60 years old as opposed to over 400 as I previously thought. As many of us previously thought, I suggest.

Learning this made me feel like the guy who brings the Ming dynasty vase to the Antiques Roadshow only to have the bemused appraiser tell him it’s a fake: “No, not a million dollars. Maybe more like $30?”

I contacted David just to make sure nothing had changed in the four years since he wrote this detailed, artfully illustrated article for Air Facts. It hadn’t and he stands by the article as written. So I’m here to publicly thank Mr. English for saving me from embarrassing myself in front of BluFly’s vast, global audience. In turn, you can thank Mr. English for saving you from the weird, turbid prose I was about to foist on you as I tried to make the case that da Vinci might just be walking amongst us at the Edward H. Laborde Viewing Area or wherever your planespotting perch of choice may be.

It may be wisdom after-the-fact but I have to say there was always something fishy about the da Vinci quote. It was a little too perfect. I’m almost relieved to hear my editorial spidey sense was tingling for a reason.

“So why would it be a crime?” the puzzled owner of the local, Runway 35L-adjacent Subway asked. I’m must have looked puzzled, too, in response. Until I realised I was wearing my favourite Planespotting Is Not a Crime t-shirt. It’s a riff on the much more famous Powell Peralta slogan “skateboarding is not a crime” from the 1980s. It may just be me but I think the irony of the aviation-oriented update is what makes it funny. Okay, it likely is just me.

However, there is a bit of a backstory which I quickly and somewhat incoherently related as she made my sandwich. I had to start by telling her that while I don’t know a lot about fences I am completely clear on the concept of whether I’m standing on the inside of one or the outside. With this certainty in mind, I continued, I told her about the time a while back when I was at one of my usual planespotting spots with my nose firmly pressed up against the airport fence. Which is to say behind it.

I rambled on to tell her that one day, one of the red airport security trucks drove by and immediately slowed down, presumably to take a look at what I was doing. Then she stopped, backed up and drove over to where I was standing. Uh oh.

“Do you mind moving back from the fence, please?” I immediately thought her unsmiling demeanor and tone of voice were overly officious. What if I did mind, I thought. But good sense prevailed and I said nothing. Then I not only moved back but then got into my car and drove away. If looks could kill, clearly I was a marked man and I figured I better git. Best not let emotions run away from me and spend the night in the airport lockup on sus, which I imagine they have the power to make happen in this jittery, paranoid, post-9/11 era.

However, I began to think about it more on the way home: doesn’t their jurisdiction end at the airport fence? What I should have said to her, in retrospect, was “Sure. How much would be enough?” That might have tied her up in logical knots for a while. If the answer was “exactly 10 metres, please” I suppose I would understand. The fence and the airport boundary aren't actually the same. But I suspect the answer would be much more vague: “enough so I feel comfortable” or something along these lines. Okay, define “comfortable.” And round and round we would go.

Back in the Subway, I wrapped up my story and she wrapped up my sandwich. I told the now reather bored-looking sandwich maker that rather than being aggressive-aggressive I decided to go the much more courageous passive-aggressive route when my nose is pressed up against the airport fence. I'll wear my Planespotting Is Not a Crime t-shirt 2 while Public Enemy belts out Fight the Power full blast on repeat. I'll let my outerware — and Chuck D — do the talking. Let's see where that gets me the next time the red truck stops by.

Hopefully not in that aforementioned airport lockup getting to know Mr. Phonebook.

Often, while we are on our way to Springbank Airport — yet again — I say to my long-suffering wife that today is the day the nomadic ghost squadron of P-51s will be at the airport. “We had better hurry or we’ll miss them on the approach,” I will say to her, undeterred by the rolling of her eyes and the shaking of her head. She and I both know it’s not true. Nor is it ever likely to be. But the mere thought of their magnificent Merlins popping and snapping angrily as they just clear the airport fence always makes me tear up a little and feel a catch in my throat. Maybe today. Maybe today is the day.

You can therefore imagine my delight when on a lazy, hot July afternoon of this past summer — just after lunch — when two gorgeous, slightly battered, battle-hardened CL-415 Super Scoopers appeared on the approach to Runway 17, landed and then taxied up to the ramp just north of the CAV-OK Grill. They were so close I felt I could reach out and touch them. They were shortly followed on the approach by a companion Twin Commander which I assume would soon be on pathfinder duty when they engaged with the forest fire they were sent from Ontario to fight.

It was a quick fuel, food and pee break. The crews were pleasant and chatty but business-like. However, the best part was when the three planes fired up their engines and simply sat for a moment undoubtedly completing check lists and filing flight plans. But the sound — the glorious, polyphonic, hissing howl of jet fuel being turned into power — brought back those tell-tale tears and the catch in my throat.

It was a real “somewhere in England” moment. Okay, they weren’t P-51s departing on yet another perilous bomber escort mission over occupied Europe — not even close — but it was this planespotter’s dream come true and one of the best days ever.

Have your own story about a run-in with the red security truck? Or the story of your best planespotting day ever? We would love to help tell it. Otherwise, that's it for this month's column — please let me know what you think of it along with the rest of what BluFly has on offer this month. 4 Until then, thanks for reading and engaging with our posts on Bluesky, Threads, LinkedIn and Instagram. 3

Fair winds and blue skies.

Terence C. Gannon
Managing Editor

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