A Whale of a time

[Coop]

Next weekend we are off on a week's excursion to Arkaroola and Broken Hill for the AAAA Auster rally. More of that anon.

 

However, yesterday we thought we had better take Dorothy (our 1946 Auster J1) on a bit of a run to ensure that all was well for the trip next week. So, after a leisurely breakfast and tidying up the last of the washing, we tossed the toolbox into the back of the wagon (just in case) and headed for the hangar.

 

As we were removing Dorothy's covers, Tim the Tiger pilot drove past on his way out. He stopped to inform us that there were about 10 whales (mothers with calves included) just offshore at Middleton. Our preparations became a little more focussed, and before long we were taxiing out.

 

Selection of take-off direction was a little tricky as the wind was approximately at 90 degrees to the strip, but it wasn't strong enough to give us much trouble so we chose the southern end as the wind seemed to be favouring it a little. With all checks complete and a mental review of actions if the engine quit (turn left into wind and drop it into the crop- the farmer won't be happy, but that's life) we lined up on the strip and gave Dorothy her head.

 

Its surprising how much extra runway a slight tailwind (combined with a very mild uphill slope) will cause you to use. We came off well beyond our usual lift-off point, with me glancing quickly at the RPM to confirm that we still had full power. The climb-out angle was also a bit flat, but a glance at the windsock a few seconds later confirmed that the wind had shifted a little (behind us) as we began our run. It just goes to show how important it is to always have a good margin of safety.

 

The air was quite choppy and unstable, and the cloudbase surprising low, but the run south wasn't uncomfortable, although a little slow as the wind higher up was definitely southerly. There was some radio traffic, but not as much as I expected. On the way down I briefed the Navigator on our procedure when over the whales. Expecting much other traffic, I told her that she could look at the whales while I flew and looked for traffic, and then we would swap roles. This way at least one of us would always have eyes outside avoiding collisions.

 

We crossed over Goolwa at 1500' and then descended to 1,000' and began to track along the coast.

 

And there they were- big grey shapes with obvious tailplanes lurking no more than 200 metres offshore. Large black fins would occasionally rise up out of the water and slap back down again, and the sandy bottom was being stirred up by the turbulence from their ponderous wallowing in the shallow water. Ashore, a crowd of several hundred onlookers lined the top of the sand dunes, and there were more "surfers" in the water than you would ever normally see, all of them I suppose, hoping that one of the whales would wander in their direction. Smaller copies of the bigger animals huddled alongside their mothers, presumably filling up on milk before heading off on their migration to wherever it was that they were going.

 

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Surprisingly, there was very little other traffic- in fact not a single aircraft, and after a couple of runs up and back past the pod, we decided to head towards Hindmarsh Island and check to see if Bazza and his wife were home. We might get a cup of coffee. Bazza is another Tiger man, and he also restores and repairs them.

 

Sure enough, the hangar door was ajar, and we could see Joy, Bazza's wife, gathering up the dogs in preparation for our landing. There is no difficulty finding a runway into wind at Bazza's place- he's only got four!

 

I managed to plop Dorothy onto the grass of one of these with nary a skip, and worked the brakes hard in an attempt to "bed in" the newly re-bonded brake shoes. This is taking quite some time, and they still haven't come up to full effect yet, although at least now they will hold her while I remove the chocks and climb aboard. The first time I pulled the chocks after the brake reline Dorothy began to creep forward in spite of the parking brake, and I was glad I had the Navigator aboard to look after matters!

 

Bazza was as good as his word and before long we had steaming cups of coffee in our hands and were discussing the morning's activities. Bazza and two other Tiger mates had flown over the whales earlier that day and one of his passengers had taken some very good shots with her beaut Nikon SLR digital. (Put my little pocket machine to shame, but then, she doesn't have an aeroplane...). Then we embarked on a quick tour of the "toy shop" where we observed the progress on Max's Tiger- he was there polishing the stainless firewall to a mirror finish. Alright if you like that sort of thing, I suppose (sniff).

 

With that completed, we decided we had better blast off again so as to get back to home base with some time to spare so we could have Dorothy ready for the Big Trip next weekend. So, after Bazza had given the prop a twirl, and Dorothy obliged by starting on the first blade, we took our leave.

 

The take off went well until just before I rotated at 40 knots- my usual procedure. Dorothy appeared to sink slightly, and then we bounded into the air with the nose going skywards somewhat alarmingly. I soon had her back to her usual climbing attitude and speed, but made a mental note to call Bazza and complain that he hadn't warned me about the "ski-jump" at the end of his runway!!

 

The run home was quicker with the tailwind and I decided that an approach to the west on the shorter of our two strips was called for as we still had a light breeze from the west. Now this is a somewhat challenging approach, and always fun. It involves firstly flying along about 100' over the top of an adjacent ridge, then turning and flying down a valley, across a paddock, over the fence, and onto the first part of the runway which is very much downhill. You need to use full flap, and the rule is clear- if you are not on the ground before the cross strip, then dump flap and go around, as you are lined up with hangars, a tree, and power lines, so a late decision is not possible. However, place yourself just over the fence at the right speed and all will be well- with a smooth landing guaranteed by the downhill slope. The second half of the strip is flat, and there is an uphill slope just before the hangars, so it's not quite as bad as it looks, but I don't tell the uninitiated that- it adds to the fun. The optical illusion on final makes the runway look far too short and the approach too low.....

 

All goes well on this occasion and Dorothy floats gently onto the lush grass (it won't stay that way for long) and trundles to a crawl just after we cross the main strip. I work the brakes some more and I think they are working just a wee bit better- although that could just be my imagination....

 

We top up the oil, fill our Going Away oil containers and clean off the abundant bugs that Spring always brings before tucking Dorothy away to await our return next weekend. Then its over to the little French restuarant in town for another cuppa, some scones, and a chance to brag about our afternoon to the proprietor and her lovely young assistants. Life's tough, but someone has to do it....

 

Coop

 

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[siznaudin]

Jeez, Coop - and there was Chris & I doing b*****y house renovations!

 

Good on ya, though...! Half your luck, and as usual, a beautifully told story!

 

We should try to catch up before your trip north.

 

 

[Guest OzChris]

Awesome Coop - thoroughly enjoyed the story!

 

 

[Guest Darren Masters]

Always enjoy your trip reports Coop. Thanks for sharing