Trials of a “Girly” Plane Spotter

Aoife Kiernan is a self-confessed airplane nerd who spends her spare time spotting at Dublin’s airport. Tired of the gender wars still raging, she’s launching a suffragette movement to claim equal rights at the end of the runway.

I’ve always been a huge nerd; it’s in the blood. Even worse, I’m an airplane nerd, and for a 24-year-old woman that poses some unique problems. The glass ceiling still exists at the end of the runway where I do my plane-spotting along with the other nerds – all males.

It’s a recent phenomenon, although I always did enjoy my dad taking us out to the airport to see the big green Aer Lingus tails rolling past a fence I couldn’t see over. Yeah, I’m one of those weirdoes who stands parallel to runways saying inane things like “wow look at that Airbus blah blah blah.”

To a non-spotter reading this, I could be a middle aged man named Clive, who lives in anoraks and even has anorak pyjamas and still lives with his mother. Well, I am none of those things. The mammaries I boast are not man-boobs. I own no anoraks, and even have a few friends. I still live with my mother, but that’s a different story.

Out at the viewing spot at Dublin airport, I am usually the only woman who isn’t getting jiggy in a Honda Civic. I take my stance on the little hillock, amongst the lads. Actually it’s more like I try to blend in so no one driving past recognizes me, which has happened in the past, and was rather embarrassing. But I’ve come out of the aviation closet to all of my friends and family, so it’s ok.

One day, I dragged my mother out because I wanted to see the Air France 777F. I was there, happy as Larry, my binoculars glued to the windscreen, with mother glumly reading her newspaper to combat the boredom that plane-spotting is to “vanillas.” Then a scruffy looking fella raps on the window and says he’s making a film about plane spotters. He likes the cut of our jib and he’s gonna make us stars. There’s somethin’ special about the girly spotters.

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Photo © Artur Zak
Warp Speed Departure
That day we took off outta that lay by faster than any plane outta Dublin. He really freaked us out. Even though we said “Eh no, we’re not spotters, no” (with me clutching my nerd-oculars) he still set up a camera on my side of the car and started filming. So when I got home I immediately jumped onto A.net and asked did anyone see this guy? Yes, a few replied, adding “But girls aaaaaaaaare unusual!” I’m all like, “come on guys get over it.”

I know there are some weirdoes (apart from me) at places like this, but it’s just crap as I feel more vulnerable being a girl. Another day, I was in a book shop perusing an airplane magazine and this old geezer got all excited and mumbled something about jet thrust. I just backed away, nodding and smiling. Also, I will never be able to drive up to the airport myself, and sit there for a few hours, because I would never feel safe (and also because I can’t drive).

You’re Good for a Skirt
I could swear sometimes when I’m up there doing my thing, spotting away at ninety miles a minute, I can feel them look at me. It’s almost like that old knock “you’re good for a skirt.” I find it funny that even in plane spotting, the girls are the freakin’ underdogs (if I’m there with my dad, they acknowledge only him, and the man knows nothing about airplanes). I mean, come on, a glass ceiling at the runway threshold? That doesn’t even exist in the cockpits anymore as there are plenty of female pilots (indeed, the glass cockpit has been broken!). Because I would never cut it as a pilot (except for in FS9) I’m going to start a spotting suffragette movement. Yeah, I’m gonna prove that I’m entitled to stand on a hill in wind and rain and get deafened by really noisy airplanes. I’ll be there, waving my Prada binoculars, shouting “Dahlings, you simply must catch the flap settings on this Airbus A300, its divine!” to my cowering girl posse in the car.

But first I have to learn how to drive....

Written by
Aoife Kiernan