In Indonesia, if Volcano Doesn’t Get You, the Rice Paddy Might

A wisp of vapor floats innocuously above a small island. Is it an ordinary cloud? Or is it the engine-choking ash that sometimes rises from the volcano smoldering below?

An approaching pilot has to make a quick decision -- a mistake could send the plane spiraling into the Sunda Straits between Sumatra and Java.

This is one of the first lessons that student pilots pick up in Indonesia, an equatorial archipelago pockmarked by hundreds of volcanoes, at least 129 of which still regularly spew hot gases and ash.

“You must always think of the environment when flying here,” Ahmed Rizal, chief instructor at the Deraya Flying School, shouts over the roar of the engine at a sweat-drenched rookie pilot struggling to keep the Cessna 172 trainer level and on course, straining to follow the air traffic controllers’ crackly instructions and overcome motion sickness.

Although new pilots the world over have their hands full handling just the basic principles of airmanship, those learning to fly in Indonesia -- a developing country in the midst of a boom in commercial air traffic -- must adjust to a special set of circumstances.

“I’ve never seen equatorial storms like the ones here,” said Luis Manuel Hernandez, a Venezuelan captain flying for an Indonesian airline. “I’ve landed at airports in Indonesia after maneuvering through a dozen thunderheads on approach.”

Hernandez is one of at least 100 foreign pilots flying for Indonesia’s new budget airlines. Some three dozen have been set up since a new, democratically elected government deregulated the industry six years ago.

Most of the jets used by these start-ups are second-hand airliners leased from Western companies, but in June Indonesia’s top budget carrier, Lion Air, announced plans to purchase 60 new Boeing 737s in a $3.9-billion deal.

This move has increased the demand for new pilots, because foreign aviators typically cost airlines three to four times more than the $1,000 to $2,000 a month paid to Indonesian captains and co-pilots.

Although most Indonesian civilian aircrew members were previously trained by the government aviation university, the current shortage has been a boon for the country’s handful of private flying schools such as Deraya.

About 30 youths are enrolled in courses for private pilot’s licenses, multiengine and instrumental ratings and commercial certificates necessary for a professional career.

Deraya, which also operates a regional airline and an air taxi service, was established almost 40 years ago by Siti Rahayu Sumadi, one of the first women pilots in the world’s largest Muslim nation.

Although Deraya’s training fleet -- a collection of Cessna 150 two-seat primary trainers, four-seat 172s and the twin-engine 204s -- are carefully maintained and regularly serviced, they are ancient by Western standards.

Training flights head out of Halim, a former Dutch colonial air base, through Jakarta’s thick smog, and to a training area about 30 miles to the south.

Java island, the world’s most densely populated place, has few open areas for emergency landings. Even the rural surroundings of the training area can be dangerous. Students are warned against touching down on dry rice paddies whose raised mud pathways could snag landing gear.