PRB's SW Pacific Shananigans

Made it to Biak (WAJJ - WABB). One leg remains.

http://fs-duenna.com/flights/ShowFlight.php?detail=flight&value=XhazAWssTq3P6gwjyPbSVShIXQ

Had a wee bit of excitement on this trip. Not too serious. The engine just quit running about three miles from the airport. There I was, all set to land. Wheels down [check], fuel booster pump on [check], tail wheel locked [check], ball peen hammer stowed [check]. I was about to drop the final notch of flaps when suddenly, it got really quiet [roh roh]. My first thought was simply “Curses! Ran out of gas three miles from my destination, no fair!” I thought about dead sticking the ship in, but that wasn't going to work, I could tell. The Chance-Vought-Whistling-Death-Bent-Wing-Ensign-Eliminator glides, but dang, it ain't no Piper Cub! Arriving to Earth short of the field wasn't an option either, on account of the giant trees growing right up against the runway numbers, as usual. As Ernie Gann would say, by now initial fright was beginning to give way to the icy cold and paralyzing grip of fear. Then it occurred to me: This trip was less than 300 miles, there's no way I could be out of gas already! A quick check of the SHIFT-Z revealed 65% fuel on board! [what the..?] At that point I wondered “you don't suppose this plane requires me, the arm chair pilot, to actually select the various fuel tanks..?” [doh!] Now where the heck is that fuel tank selector switch?! [Next time I'll read the &^%# manual before take off, I promise!!] I found it besides the seat, left-hand side, hit “+++” to zoom in, and carefully, but quickly, scrutinized the plethora of fuel tank selections available, wondering how big the houses were getting out the window by now. I selected the external tank, and with a mighty roar, the big Pratt & Whitney R-2800 came back to life. By now the trees and I were getting very well acquainted indeed, but with power once again at my finger tips, I was able to avoid bumping into any of them and landed without further incident. This lesson will come in handy on the next, 800 mile, leg..!
 
Final leg. WABB - RPMD. 800 long and lonely miles over (mostly) empty water.
 
Wing tanks are dry. Going to mains. I can see land (ho) now, so I should be able to make it on the mains.
 
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