Tinworm-wings: a Tiger Moth veteran

Saturday, 17 April 2010

a Tiger Moth veteran

the swagger of a Tiger Moth veteran

Egged on by my former instructor and now flying guru, Neill, I handed over a king's ransom to Classic Wings at Duxford (on a day out at the Imperial War Museum) and took a Tiger Moth for a spin. But Neill knows what I mean when I say that, while it was absolutely fantastic, it was not as good as flying. Only a flex-wing pilot can really know what I mean by that.

I flew from the front seat and was handed all the controls and did several turns abeam Cambridge. I am practically ab initio when it comes to three axis, so losing my virginity in a Tiger Moth (in the Chipmunk I had the stick but not the rudder) seems very appropriate and means that I have joined all those down the years who started their training in an Air Force trainer. Many Spitfire pilots started this way, and of course Duxford was the first station to have Spitfires, so I feel curiously connected to all that.

It was a wonderful experience (soon to be published on YouTube, once the DVD arrives) and the instructor, Stuart Luck has given me his number and said that we must arrange for me to fly down to him so that he can sign my logbook entry.
Have a look at this slideshow, photos by Neill Howarth

Once we had landed and as I took off my Irvin jacket, I heard the ground ops guys saying they were about to take off in the Dragon Rapide, but only had four seats occupied, so I offered that if we got a sizeable discount, we'd fill two more. I won't say what I paid, that wouldn't be fair to them, but it did mean that we flew at near 1930s prices. Have a look at this slideshow - photos, again, by Neill - and be sure to spot the Tiger Moth and a Catalina flying boat on the ground.

Dad tells me that his first flight in anything, circa 1953, when he was in Wellington College (Berkshire) CCF, was a Dragon Rapide. I am waiting for him to send me a scan of a photo of him flying a primary glider. Always fancied trying that, ever since I was at Clifton and saw boys flying one at Beggar's Bush. Dad can't remember, but I am pretty sure I saw them laying out sacking to reduce the impact of the skid on the grass...perhaps even to reduce friction?

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Ground handling (how to store an aeroplane at home and get it to the airfield)

A trial flight in a Thruster, when I was 28, c.1991

I have started to learn to fly before...TWICE! First time round I had just graduated and got a job at an aerodrome in Cornwall, where I earned flying hours by fuelling microlights, giving hourly weather reports to the Met office etc. The weather was bad, so there was little flying to be had...and in the end I was paid with broken propellers and bits of crashed fuselage to hang on the wall. The boss was a great bloke called Ian Stokes, who had been a leading light in forming the BMAA and had manufactured Thrusters in the early days . In retirement he moved to The Gambia and became a publican and, shockingly, was murdered this year.

Flying Rogues

ten years on from my first experiences at Moorland Flying School (and now nearly ten years ago) the flying school was under new management and my girlfriend and I booked full courses. We both made good progress initially but never felt we were being moved on and had difficulty pinning the instructor down to signing our logbooks. When another instructor signed himself as P1, we got suspicious, contacted the CAA and were horrified to learn that our instructor did not have a current instructor rating, that we had not been insured and that none of our hours counted towards our licences. We were eventually refunded and the instructors were prosecuted by the CAA.

The very sympathetic CAA investigator spoke to the BMAA on our behalf and my hours have been allowed to count (at the discretion of the school). But in point of fact, I flew way over the minimum number of hours subsequently, so it is really quite academic in the end.

Around 2001 an instructor in Norfolk tried to convince me that if I bought his aeroplane he could teach me at a cut rate, as I'd then be using my own plane. Great idea, I thought, except that it turned out that the aircraft in question had failed a noise test and could not be used from the instructor's field. He later admitted that I would have to learn on his aeroplane at the normal rate. He resisted showing me the paperwork, kept avoiding me and eventually, when it was quite clear I wasn't going to buy without the paperwork, told me to F-off.

So far my experience has been that there are a lot of rogues in flying, which is one reason why I was so very impressed by the professional set-up at Sywell.

by air to Africa

My sister and I were lucky to fly many thousands of miles in the 1960s and '70s in many aircraft types, including BOAC VC-10s, Boeing 707s and even a Nigerian Airways Dakota, as our dad (and later our mum) had teaching posts in Kenya and Nigeria. Those were still the romantic days of flying, when passengers walked across tarmac and up steps, rather than walking down the tubes that have turned passenger flying into a mundane affair. (Mind you, aren't take-offs still incredibly exciting!?)

Back then air hostesses GAVE children the sorts of nick-nacks that their parents have to pay fortunes for from the airline catalogue these days; things like model aeroplanes, keyrings etc. We were also given sweets to help us cope with depressurisation. (And they were hostesses, so nobody give me a hard time)

Mum says that I cracked my first joke when I was small, on a flight out to Kenya, when I said, "Mummy, shouldn't there be a wing on this side of the plane too". Apparently I got her with that one.

At Kano airport I remember standing behind an engine and thinking how hot it still was....and then being told that the engine was cold. The heat was Kano. I got a headache and took several days to aclimatise.

The airport perri-ways at Kano were littered with aircraft that didn't make it, including a burnt-out Mig 15. The Nigerian Airforce flew them and my dad played squash with one of their pilots, Ben, at the Kano Club. I recall a Mig fly-past on my birthday. Was it arranged with Ben over a beer? Was it a pure coincidence?

At Entebbe airport (Uganda) I remember climbing down the steps on to the runway and being encircled by soldiers with machine guns, who then went through all our belongings and confiscated my cherished Swiss Army penknife, purchased on one of numerous European stop-overs. That was in the twitchy time after the Israeli hijacking ...and mum had to stifle my protests.

Before my first flight to Nairobi, as an infant, I was scared stiff. I didn't understand that I wouldn't have to sit astride the fuselage, as I did on my pedalcar! In a funny way, I not only overcame that fear but have come full circle; microlighting is just like sitting on that pedalcar......open to the elements - real flying!