A short day's flying

[Coop]

Good flying weather has been hard to come by of late. Beautiful sunny crisp and calm days during the week have been interspersed with thunderstorms, rain, low cloud and howling winds on the weekends. I'm not knocking the bad weather- the cockies need a good season. But I'd appreciate it if whoever arranges the weather could get it into sync with the weekends.

 

This weekend looked much the same- forecast on Thursday was for showers on both Saturday and Sunday, with strong winds between two fronts. So it was with some surprise that I noted late on Saturday night that the general forecast for Sunday was for fine conditions with light winds- seems the weather had relented at the last minute.

 

Sunday dawned with blue skies and light winds as forecast. By the time I arrived at the home field Tim's Tiger had already departed (he lives closer to the field than I do). I chucked the fuel in as fast as I could, shut the hangar doors and swung the prop. Dorothy was reluctant to start (I suspect the timing on the impulse maggie has drifted a little) but eventually she caught and we were away.

 

The air was alive with aircraft- the radio was busy with trainees, parachutists, sight see-ers, whale watchers and people like myself just out for quick run around the traps. I could hear people calling in the circuit from as far away as Port Lincoln, Renmark and Jamestown, and all places in between.

 

A few puffy white clouds were busily decorating the sky, and Dorothy bobbled along in the light turbulence as I gazed down at the verdant green paddocks and full dams that had been practically dry only a couple of months earlier. I could hear Phil in his Jabiru somewhere down near Goolwa, and Barry in his Tiger near Pt Elliott, and Ivor in his Yak chimed in from somewhere down south. Overhead Noarlunga and I could see the modellers in their adjacent field with their tiny aircraft glinting in the sun as they spun and flicked in the cool air. I gave them a wide berth, and side-slipped Dorothy down onto the freshly mown grass of the Noarlunga strip. Surprisingly the hangar doors were all shut and the only bloke about was a photographer taking pictures. I chatted to him while he took a few of Dorothy, and then Phil landed and opened the hangar (he'd been down looking at a lone whale off Victor Harbour). I'd come to Noarlunga to have a rummage through the old ribs removed from Pitot Pete's Auster (they'd been removed when he rebuilt his wing with new pressed steel ribs). I'd been advised to keep an eye on the nose ribs on my machine as there was some evidence that they could crack just behind where the leading edge aluminium sheet stops. None of mine showed any signs of cracking, but Pete's had almost all had repairs done to them, providing some evidence that the problem was mostly found on the later models like his J5 (perhaps due higher MTOW).

 

Anyway, another Pete who had helped with our wing repairs happened to arrive, and since he had nothing better to do, I suggested he join me flying to Aldinga for a coffee and lunch. He readily agreed, so we strapped on again and headed south along the coast past the nude beach at Maslins, over the wreck of the Star of Greece (still visible on the bottom when the water is calm), and then into the Aldinga circuit. We dodged a couple of Jetstars (er...shooting stars?..nope... er...Starfighters?..nope...er... SPORTSTARS!!) and dropped onto the grass alongside the main strip.

 

[ATTACH]446.vB[/ATTACH]

 

Barry and Steve were there in their Tigers, Tim had just left in his, and we heard Bob in his Citabria departing just as we were joining the circuit. Martin taxied out in his Tiger just as we were shutting down. Everyone was getting out. It was plain to see I wasn't the only one starved of flying lately.

 

Lunch was a bowl of hot soup and some toast and a cappuccino on the veranda of Adelaide Biplanes clubrooms while watching the various aircraft coming and going. Then we wandered over and checked out progress on various projects before cranking up and heading back to Noarlunga. While taxiing out I couldn't help noticing the shark fin in the middle of the dam at the end of the airfield. (Seems the periscope that was there a few weeks ago had disappeared). I gave Pete the controls on the way back while I fiddled with my camera. The Noarlunga Tiger was in the circuit so we followed him around on his touch and go and landed behind him. Shortly after touchdown we noticed he'd turned around and was approaching from the other direction (there was practically no wind), so we scuttled off the runway, but he had his eyes open and went around anyway.

 

Ivor had returned in his Yak but was loading up another bunch of friends to do another run down to the lonely whale so we hung about and watched him take off.

 

Then I bid farewell to Pete and the others and headed back to the home field. After shutting down at home I wandered over to see what Graham was doing with his Glassair. He said he was just taking it out for a run to ensure the battery was charged, and would I like to come for a run? What, go for a run in a glass two-seater with a 300hp engine and all the bells and whistles? Well, if you insist....

 

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The seating position was reminiscent of some of the hotter glass gliders I had flown a few years back, and there was a bewildering array of instruments, dials and switches (auto pilot, IFR panel, digital/analogue engine instruments, etc., etc.). The growl from the engine as Graham opened the taps at take off was only surpassed by the kick in the back as it launched us down the runway. At something like 75 or 80 knots (it was accelerating too fast to be sure), Graham raised the nose wheel and with a couple of chirps from the stall warning we rocketed into the sky. With gear and flaps up, and cowl flaps closed, I noticed we were climbing at 140 knots (Dorothy's Vne) and 2,500' had already gone past. Levelled at 3,500' we soon had 190kts on the clock and Graham handed over to me for a bit of a play.

 

The controls were light and very responsive. Like many short-coupled machines I've ridden in, this one also had a slight tendency to fish-tail, so the rudder was best left alone- any tendency to correct it only made matters worse. Graham suggested we turn around and head back before we left the country, and I handed back to him as we came over the top of the field. He lined up the runway, the stall warning was again just beginning to chirp at about 80 knots as we crossed the fence.

 

[ATTACH]448.vB[/ATTACH]

 

Graham hauled the nose into the air and we dropped onto the main gear with the nose gear coming down firmly almost immediately afterwards. I noted with some interest that his final approach and touchdown speeds were close to Dorothy's cruising speed. It all seemed much, much too fast...

 

I thanked Graham and went back to finish cleaning and covering Dorothy. The sun had set by the time I headed for home, and I reflected that this had been a great way to spend the shortest day of the year.....

 

Coop

 

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[sixtiesrelic]

"Good flying weather has been hard to come by of late. "

 

Now Coop ... In Queensland!

 

Even the wettest winter I remember, me mate Mal flies the Gipsy in shirt sleves in the middle of the day.

 

Put his coat on at four but still was wearing shorts for that late fly.

 

Naturally you have things we don't... can.t think of them tho.

 

 

[siznaudin]

Oh dear ... here we go with the "beautiful one day, perfect the next!" stuff.

 

But we don't have cyclonic tropical storms .... and we do have four seasons instead of two ... :biggrin:

 

 

[sixtiesrelic]

Ah Sizaudin... we get many days warning of cyclones so we can do what's needed to protect our planes. They don't come barrelling in like cold fronts.

 

When Mackay is being bashed Brisbane hasn't any strong winds most Cyclones. They come slowly down the coast.

 

I've flown through my share of cyclones and apart from lots of rain and strong wind they're not THAT dangerous. Certainly not ripping planes apart.

 

One in the seventies was only about seven thousand feet thick... clear on top.

 

My father flew through ten times more than I did and the the only time he thought he was going to die was in a front between Adelaide and Melbourne in a Viscount. They reckoned they were going to lose their wings.

 

We've all got our own 'scary stuff that the locals take in their stride and others reckon, "Not for ME"

 

 

[Coop]

"Good flying weather has been hard to come by of late. "Now Coop ... In Queensland!

Even the wettest winter I remember, me mate Mal flies the Gipsy in shirt sleves in the middle of the day.

 

Put his coat on at four but still was wearing shorts for that late fly.

 

Naturally you have things we don't... can.t think of them tho.

It's the things we DON'T have that count!

 

Like cane toads...... :tongue: Pauline Hanson..... :tongue: Corrosion and Rotting mainspars....:tongue:

 

Coop

 

 

[Coop]

Ah Sizaudin... we get many days warning of cyclones so we can do what's needed to protect our planes. They don't come barrelling in like cold fronts.<snipped>

We've all got our own 'scary stuff that the locals take in their stride and others reckon, "Not for ME"

Yep, like this (In the March 2006 entry)

 

http://www.aircentre.com.au/aircraft/news/2006/mar06wk3.htm

 

Coop

 

 

[siznaudin]

You're a hard man, John .... :tongue:

 

 

[Guest Darren Masters]

Coop, thoroughly enjoyed reading it (as usual). Thanks for sharing once again