FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Save Point: The Kamikaze Fish

Whenuapai Airbase, Auckland

The Kamikaze Fish is a racing hydroplane flyer in the style of the novel 'Orbital Resonance', which is why it's far more fun to own than just some light aircraft of the sort that crashes all the time on the news, and the main reason why Cleo and Terrowne have found themselves in possession of this rarely used toy. Most of the time it's held in a dock at the old Whenuapai air base which, before it was replaced by the existing Auckland Airport, was the home of an entire fleet of large seaplanes which provided the majority of transport throughout the islands of the pacific.

In more recent years, the city proper has impinged on Whenuapai, leading to a strange snarl of roads as the highly organised city grid finally collides with the strange organic snarls of the original military air base after nearly fifty years of growth. Half of the buildings there still belong to the army or navy and are strangely secretive, closed on the outside with signs full of stray numbers and concise instructions to contact the commanding officer. Meanwhile, whole streets of identical new apartments have colonized the empty space around them, and the original homes that still exist near the base have been expensively refurnished, since they vastly exceed the much lower bar placed on the construction quality of their modern cousins.

Down on the Whenuapai waterfront, several vast domed hangars that once hosted an entire fleet of seaplanes are only lightly invested by a growth of cafes and incidental businesses, like barnacles or mussels growing on the hull of some ocean-going skiff, and this leaves plenty of space to store all sorts of things. Embedded in the monolithic concrete and tar-seal are all manner of remnants of the glory days, the shorn-off remains of all sorts of metal fittings designed to anchor down a seaplane, and grooves and painted markings indicating where they were intended to taxi forth into the ocean. Because they were sea-going, they didn't need the absurdly vast runways seen in a standardised modern airport, only a small area on land for turnabout and parking, and some associated facilities for the passengers to disembark and walk to and from their cars.

Cleo and Terrowne walk down the curving hill-road that leads down to the old base, stop off briefly at the cafe for a quick meal (Cleo, a gourmet pie with tomato sauce and a ham sandwich; Terrowne, a ludicrous chicken and avocado burger that comes with fries). The weather is looking good, clear and still, and with the Navy Meteorological Department occupying the entirety of one of the nearby hangars, all predictions are known good. Visibility is unlimited.

Having taken the time to finish their meal carefully, because it is always a good idea to have a full feed before going and doing something that may well be very dangerous and stupid, they head in to check with the mechanic and tour guide who is the effective owner of the Kamikaze Fish most of the time. They may actually own it in the sense of having invested the money, and theoretically be able to take it out for a thrill-ride on the weekend at any time should they desire to do so, but it's the mechanic who looks after it and makes the most use of it, offering 'adventure tourism' rides out of the cafe to anyone who might be interested enough to follow the signage.

It's hardly a high-volume industry, since the Fish is a one-off, not heavily advertised but definitely talked about by people who are interested in such things. Most of the customers have come looking for it specifically, rather than just having seen a sign somewhere, and the Fish is not really designed to transport more than three persons in any degree of comfort because of its compact design. The small trickle of high-end adventure tourists willing to pay large amounts for a relatively short ride keeps it warmed up and in business, and gives its mechanic (former misfit student of the Auckland University School of Engineering and Design, which is where Terrowne met him) an opportunity to exercise his entrepreneurial leanings while indulging his hobby. Things can be delivered very fast and with minimal paperwork when you have your own seaplane, and Terrowne doesn't pry into it, because you should always have a fast exit strategy handy.

The Fish is parked inside the end corner of the largest hangar, next to a small square hatch that lets it enter and exit to the water without having to pull the vast main hangar doors open and closed all the time. Terrowne can honestly say he's never actually seen them open, and imagines it would make one hell of a racket with sheet-metal sliding on sheet-metal and so forth.

The Fish is painted in lurid colours like a World War Two bomber, only with far sharper edges and in a far more intense palette, mostly bright green with precise purple detailing. Jaws with hooked teeth in them like a piranha have been drawn around the point at the front, and the bulges of the viewing domes to either side have been incorporated into the effect so it looks like it has two big fishy eyes staring out. The widened undercarriage enlarges smoothly into a pair of wings at either side, and motive power whilst on the water is provided by a large spinning turbine attached to the back of each wing which can be raised or lowered as desired, turning it into an outboard engine or rear-mounted propeller as required. There are also narrow skis with wheels on the underside that allow it to trundle about on land for its short trips to and from the ocean, and which fold in to give it the smooth underbelly required for fast movement on the water. The fish can use these as hydrofoils should the situation require it.

The paint on it has a strange irregular texture, like the skin of a shark. It breaks up the flow of air or water over the surface in a manner that vastly reduces drag, but wouldn't be practical on a larger or mass-produced aircraft. At the back, the main nacelle of the hull draws smoothly together into a vertical tail, increasing even further its resemblance to a fish. The main overall impression is one of cheerfully predatory speed.