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Apr 2002 Page 1 e n i l t h g Fli Online F R U T D N SURF A ! G N I T H G ULTRALI Contents Surf and Turf Ultralighting! Tallyho Talybont! A Little ...
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Apr 2002

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e n i l t h g Fli Online F R U T D N SURF A ! G N I T H G ULTRALI

Contents Surf and Turf Ultralighting! Tallyho Talybont! A Little Light Navigation Microlighting in Rio Extra, Extra!

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Canada h Columbia, is it Br in ts Flying Floa by Chris Boulton.

The runway may be waterlogged, but that’s fine! I have always wanted to fly a floatplane! So, after carrying out some research, I discovered Airflow Aviation in British Columbia, Canada, and contacted the owner, Fred Glasbergen. He operates a small ultralight school and club from King George Airpark about 25 miles south of Vancouver. I had Airmiles to use up, so off I went to give ultralight floatplane flying a try. In the brief time available — just four days — I was set on becoming proficient on floats and obtaining my Canadian Ultralight Permit. In the end, time ran out and the Permit proved elusive but I did master the art of float flying under the guidance of two of Fred’s instructors and had the opportunity to fly two very different planes, the amphibian Sea Rey, and a

Beaver RX550 on floats. I arrived at King George Airpark in good weather and met the CFI, a French Canadian called Stephan. He was a real character and a precise instructor who is passionate about flying. After he had asked me a few questions about my flying experience, we turned our attention to the plane we would be flyingg most over the next few days, the Aerodyne Sea Rey. This is a two side-by-side seat, amphibian ultralight built in Florida. The Sea Rey is a tail dragger and Airflow’s version is fitted with a Rotax 912 engine mounted to the rear of a high wing in a pusher configuration. It has a top speed of 105mph, an 85mph cruise at 5,200rpm and a VNE of 120mph. The stall speed is 40mph and the take off run, on

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land or water, is 400ft. Other features include electric flaps, hydraulic landing gear and an electric stabiliser trim. The pre-flight check was similar to what I’m used to but I was introduced to a feature that was unusual — the bilge pump, used for removing water collected in the hull while in amphibious mode. There are two grass runways at King George Airpark, 15/33 (1,200ft) and 07/ 25 (1,000ft). Both are slightly undulating and a little muddy. 25 is very interesting as it has a slight bend about a quarter of the way down! After pre-flight checks and an engine warm-up we lined up on runway 33 for a short flight to Pender Island just south of Vancouver Island, where Stephan assured

FLIGHTLINE ONLINE EDITOR DAVID BREMNER; phone/fax 01706 824909 home; or Sponsorship Enquiries Wendy Burr, Pagefast Ltd., 4-6 LANSIL WAY, CATON RD, LANCASTER LA1 3QY. TEL: 01524 841010; FAX 01524 841578; EMAIL Opinions expressed by the authors and correspondents are not necessarily those of the Editor or the BMAA. With respect to Flightline Online’s editorial content, BMAA in no way endorses or guarantees the suitability of any aircraft, ideas, schemes, designs, equipment, material or services for the purposes for which they are described, suggested or offered, and accepts no responsibility for any use which may be made of them. We invite Member of the constructive criticism and welcome any report of inferior merchandise. Fédération Aéronautique © BMAA 2001. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval Internationale system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, and the Royal Aero electrical, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

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Apr 2002 me they served a great breakfast! With full power on, we built up speed to around 30mph, remembering to use left rudder in view of the engine’s pusher configuration. Stephan brought the stick gently forward and the Sea Rey just lifted off the ground at around 50mph with a rate of climb of around 700-800fpm. The workload after take off was higher than I am used to; not only were there flaps to retract but also the landing gear had to be raised. Pulling back a handbrake-style lever between the seats does this; securing it in position and then checking the scissor action gear stays behind each seat are locked. Then we trimmed for the climb and levelled off at 1,500ft.We headed southwest towards Pender Island, crossing momentarily into US airspace as we flew out over the sea and Boundary Bay. Within 20 minutes, Pender came into view and like many islands in the area it is covered in trees with limited signs of habitation, just a few boats and waterside houses, many with private jetties. As we approached the island our landing area came into view. Stephan took over the controls and talked me through the landing procedure. The first and most important thing to establish is the wind direction. Under his guidance, I learnt how to read the signs — the direction of the waves and wind streaks across the water, the orientation of birds and boats floating on the water. (I had never thought about it until then but both birds and boats float pointing into wind!) We decided to circle the area to establish a clear wind pattern and check the water’s surface on our landing

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The Sea Rey beached on Pender Island

area for debris. A good lookout was also required as a number of boats were in the small natural harbour where we planned to land. With the wind direction noted, the pre-landing checks were completed, gear checked locked in the ‘up’ position and at the same time we added 20º of flap. After flying a downwind leg at 500 feet we turned onto base leg, still checking the landing area all the time for boats and debris. On finals, power was reduced to 4,300rpm and the approach speed set at 60mph. Stephan brought the Sea Rey down reducing power with me following through on the controls. Approximately 2 feet above the water he added a little power to hold

The Sea Rey Amphibian Beached on Pender Island The undercarriage rotates upwards on the water

off and as we began to sink he pulled the stick slowly back. We gently touched the water, powered off immediately and rapidly came to a halt leaning on the float attached to the starboard wing. My first water landing! After landing, we chugged along using the tail based water rudder and bursts of power for limited directional control. Harnesses and headsets came off in case we needed to exit quickly while in the water. We made for a shingle beach near our restaurant and let the landing gear down so we could ‘drive’ up the beach and park above the waterline. Breakfast tasted good in the mid-morning sun! For our return journey, we re-entered the water and retracted the gear, turned into wind and with the stick right back, the full power applied raised the hull of the plane in the water. We then levelled off. This is called ‘on the step’ and is done by moving the stick slightly forward at the correct speed. This keeps the hull, which has an underside that has a step about halfway down its length, in contact with the water at its most efficient point for maximum speed and a smooth ride. At around 50mph the stick was pulled back and we lifted off. I was then handed control and flew at low level, between 50 and 200 feet over the water hugging the coastline of the various islands. All the time we kept a sharp lookout for birds so as to avoid a bird strike. I also continued to

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Apr 2002 use my newly learnt skills in reading the direction of the wind, in case we needed to land quickly. For our next excursion we headed for a totally different watery environment, the Frazer River. With the built up area of Vancouver to the north, we carried out three landings in very different conditions. The Water at Pender Island had been slightly choppy, but in the river it was smooth just like glass. Stephan explained glassy water was one of the major hazards a floatplane pilot could face. He was right! On the approach it was difficult to assess the height of the plane above the water and establishing this, together with the timing of the correct actions, was testing to say the least. The best way to check the height was by using the benefit of peripheral vision with the shoreline as a reference. Adopting this technique and with Stephan ready to take

caused by the floats, but it was fun to fly. Over the water, it was very exhilarating as it has open sides with a small windshield. We practised the techniques required for landings, take offs and taxiing on the water and got just a little wet in view of the small waves in our Boundary Bay play area! The most difficult feature to master on the Beaver was the retractable landing gear. There are four wheels and these are raised by a complex system of cables and bungees operated by a wheel in the front seat foot well. This was difficult to turn and to fly the plane at the same time. In addition, as the bungees had stretched the wheels didn’t come up completely. To achieve this it was necessary to use the on-board boat hook to lift them the final few inches. Playing around with a 6 foot boat hook in the airflow at the side of the plane with one hand is difficult and the thought of it hitting

Awesome Mountains seen from the Sea Rey’s Cockpit

over if required, I made a smooth landing on my own. Next came the opportunity to fly the Beaver RX500 with floats; Stephan said this would be easier for me to fly. The Sea Rey had been difficult and is not a particularly stable plane. We checked out the Beaver. It was more like the ultralights I am used to and very similar to the Thruster T600N with the same Rotax engine but in a pusher configuration and tandem seating. It looked quite majestic sitting high on two large floats. The Beaver was slow due to the high drag

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the propeller to the rear if you let go frightening! After two intensive hours in the Beaver we had a break for lunch and then it was back to the Sea Rey for what was definitely the highlight of the trip. We took a northeasterly heading from the Airpark to fly over the mountains east of Vancouver. This was fantastic. With guidance from Stephan I had the opportunity to learn more new skills, of mountain flying, weaving between the mountain peaks learning to use the behaviour of the wind as it passes over the ter-

Page 3 rain to gain lift and avoiding downdrafts. We hugged the sides of the mountains, the wingtips almost touching the snow-covered trees. He pointed out Widgeon Lake at 2,500ft, iced up and covered with snow; a place to return to and land in the summer. The cloud was drifting down, so we descended towards Pitt Lake with the intention of a water landing but the water looked too choppy. This exciting stage of the trip behind us, we descended to around 1,500ft and made for a landing on water adjacent to Fort Langley airstrip. This is certainly a strip with a difference — the opportunity to land on the Frazer River or on the grass strip that runs parallel. What a choice to have for the correctly equipped aircraft! I brought the Sea Rey in for the landing after over flying the river to assess the wind and look for any obstacles. After landing, we put the wheels down and powered up river slightly so we could drift back to a steep wooden ramp and use this to access the airstrip. When we were level with the bottom of the ramp almost full power was required to climb up and on to the grass parking area. It is a floatplane sanctuary, lots of them were parked there, all different types, Cessna’s, Beaver’s etc. These planes that towered above us on their large floats dwarfed our Sea Rey. After another exciting and tiring day I was invited to have dinner by Fred and Stephan with other club members. Surf ‘n’ Turf — Steak and Lobster — has never tasted so good! By the last day I was feeling relaxed but tired. The 8hour time difference with the UK was taking its toll especially in view of the relatively late night before. I arrived at the Airpark a little late. Monday was Stephan’s day off and we had said our farewells the previous evening. Today I was to have another instructor called Stuart. He was an entirely different character all together, turning up on a large Honda motorcycle and complete with beard and ponytail looking

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every bit the Hell’s Angel. But far from it, he was a laidback type who sat in the rear seat of the Beaver for two hours as I perfected my newly learnt floatplane skills, coaching me as appropriate and offering lots of encouragement. When we finished for the day it was Stuart who suggested he should be paying for the flying time — he had enjoyed flying in the Beaver while I practised away and he said I could go solo, but sadly I couldn’t as I needed to apply for my Canadian Student Permit first. I didn’t have to call on him for anything apart from raising and lowering the wheels. Quite a handful on your own and probably the biggest challenge in going solo. And that was it. My four days were over. All in all, it was a great trip. In total I did 12 hours float flying. I can’t wait to get back there and sort out my permit so I can solo on the Beaver and work more on mastering the Sea Rey. I thoroughly recommend a visit to King George Airpark. Vancouver is 9 hours by air from the UK and 8 hours behind. Airflow Aviation can be contacted on 001 604 596 7452 or through their website .

Page 4 A Beaver Floatplane

Tallyho Talybont! A day trip from Bristol. by John Sparks PPR and it was too early to phone Mr. William Williams-Wynne (Bill), the owner. I therefore elected to fly to Shobdon and phone from there. At 8.15 I launched Juliet Juliet into the sky and climbed steadily over Clevedon and out over the swirling waters and sand banks of the River Severn on 360 direct to Shobdon 55 miles away. Bristol Lulsgate ATC was happy for me to attain 3500ft to cross the Bristol Channel. Yes – as usual, in the middle, the Rotax sounded ‘different’, but any nervousness was dispelled by the breathtaking beauty of the scene – clear blue above with a trace of cirrus, visibility of at least 25 miles with veils of mist lying here and there. What is more, there seemed to be little wind. My ASI read a steady 60, and the ground speed hardly varied from that. Ten minutes later, I crossed the Welsh coast – dropped down to 2500ft where it was marginally warmer (13°C). I knew this leg of the route like the back of my hand – over the M4, the Ross Spur, the Black Mountains to the left and Hereford way off to the right. From the air, the patchI could not believe it. There was Cader Idris – all 3000ft of it framed work quilt of green fields is the very essence of the English Counnicely by my starboard wing, a meandering sandy estuary on the nose and the glassy blue water of Barmouth Bay to the left. What a This page sponsored by picture – and I had left my camera behind. Will I never learn? The year 2001 had been a pretty unsatisfactory one for flying – everything conspiring to prevent me taking to the air. However, I was determined to make Talybont on the Welsh coast just south of Llanbedr before August was out. An opportunity arose on the 28th when a large anticyclone drifted across the UK. For a day, winds were light – at least to the North. I am hangared at Kingston Seymour, a charming new microlight R/O 497 London Road, Westcliff-on-Sea, airfield on the edge of the Bristol Channel just south of Clevedon Essex. SS0 9LG. where four weight-shifts and a Rans Coyote are based. Early in the Tel 01702 435735. morning, I topped up the tank of my Quasar G-MYJJ, and settled a Website . jerry can of fuel in the rear seat while making sure that I had a litre Oz ee uf actur er s of high quality manuf ufactur acturer ers Ozee ee,, man of Silkolene Comp two stowed on board. According to my Garmin 90, Talybont was 95 miles away from Kingston Seymour to the north flying suits west across a military no go zone in central Wales. Talybont is strictly

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Runway 03 at Talybont seen from the air

tryside. With the Malvern Hills not that distant, one can understand what motivated Elgar who sought inspiration is this landscape. If one ever needed a visual waypoint from Bristol to Shobdon, the cluster of huge white radio dishes well to the SW of Hereford can be seen 30 miles away on a clear day. Take a bead on these, and the course will take you straight to Shobdon. Forty minutes into the journey, I passed over them, and 20 minutes later, one hour after take off, I was landing on the 09 grass microlight strip. This delightful airfield was just beginning to wake up. After paying a £3 landing fee and topping up with fuel, I entered the canteen and although a full English breakfast was on offer – it smelt delicious – I opted for a mug of tea, toast and marmalade. Now for Talybont. I checked the Metair maps, and five knots variable up to 5000ft was forecast for the whole of Wales. A phone call to Bill Wynne on 01654-710101 indicated a super day on the west Welsh coast and his 460 metre grass strip was clear of sheep – one of the reasons why it is strictly PPR. At 10.15 I departed from the tarmac runway and turned onto 300 heading towards the seriously unfriendly but magnificent landscape of central Wales. Talybont was over 50 miles distant. The rolling green countryside gave way to moorland with several large windmill farms on the exposed tops. I was flying at about 2500ft – it was still calm, and hardly any wind and yet some of the blades were whistling round! But this was to change. As the ground beneath started to rise, so did the thermals forcing me higher to escape them. Patches of coniferous forest produced areas of significant sink – above craggy escarpments catching the sun, the air kicked uncomfortably. Having to land anywhere here did not bear thinking about! Halfway, I passed just south of a long winding reservoir just beyond Llanidloes. By now Cader Idris was emerging from the haze, but before that I had to breast a line of rugged hills which rose to 2500ft. My course took me through a lower saddle but the line of cumulus over them in an otherwise clear sky indicated a rough passage. For some reason, I did not feel like going stratospheric so I nudged the hand throttle forward to bring the purring Rotax from 4600r.p.m. to 5200r.p.m. and Juliet Juliet’s nose eased upwards. Meanwhile I gave Llanbedr a call on 122.5 and was gratified to learn that there was ‘no military traffic to affect my passage to the coast’ (‘Doesn’t mean a thing’ I was told later!). The climb was getting rockier and rockier. At 4500ft level with the cloud bases, I picked my way

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through the steamy, turbulent confections, not quite enjoying the experience – until I saw the vista ahead. Nestling between two lines of hills, was the estuary of the River Dovey and a delightful valley running inland. Talybont was a mere 10 minutes away. A slow descent into calmer conditions took the Quasar across the estuary, the 1800ft crags to the North, and into another emerald valley. Talybont’s grass East West strip about a mile or two inland by the river was easily spotted - the windsock indicated a slight sea breeze straight down 210. Sixty five minutes after leaving Shobdon, Juliet Juliet’s wheels made contact with Welsh Wales. What a gorgeous rural location - almost in the shadow of Cader Idris, but open to the West, with a panorama of awesome lumps of Cambrian rock at the head of the valley. There are no facilities but who cares. I topped up the tank with the remains of the 20 litres in the jerry can and refuelled myself with a Mars Bar. I should have packed a picnic! Now the question arose, how to get home? The coast looked inviting so I decided to head for Haverfordwest - that is, until their ATC informed me over the phone that they had a gusty 15 knots at 30° to all of their runways. At that point, Bill arrived in his Land Cruiser armed with a digital camera (see above) to greet me. ‘Surely a man of your experience isn’t worried about 15 knots’ he said. ‘Of course not’ – I replied without much conviction – ‘But given a choice…’ ‘You don’t mean to say that you flew over that dreadful stuff to get here?’ he continued, pointing at the hills (mountains?) over which I had just passed. ‘Nothing to it’ I said feeling my confidence returning. ‘Well – there are prettier ways to get out of here and you needn’t go higher than 1500ft’. I followed his advice and did not regret it. I took off from Talybont at midday and flew northwards over the end of the Cader Idris ridge into the next valley – Barmouth sits at the head of it. The route then took me North East following the A474 past Cader Idris, over Dolgellau, past Aran Fawr (2901ft), and along Lake Bala. This seemed to be the origin of the Cheshire Dee which, now past Bala, I followed to Corwen. Although it was quite thermic, I flew at around 2000ft to take in the stunning views of the deeply folded landscape on both sides - Snowdon in the dis-

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Apr 2002 tance, heather-clad moors, thought provoking cliffs, forests, fields, little villages – and yet places to land in the valley corridor through which I was flying if the unthinkable happened. At Corwen, the winding river turned east to Llangollen. After an hour in the air, it was quite a relief to emerge into the lowlands of the border country. The Dee now curved north and I turned south, setting the GPS to Welshpool 18 miles away. Passing Oswestry, 1hr 20mins after leaving Talybont, my trustworthy Quasar greased the smooth tarmac of this smart and busy little airfield. By the time I parked Juliet Juliet, it was 13.30 and time for a sandwich, a drink and a rest from the jostling control bar. Welshpool lightened my wallet by £5 for a landing fee and a further £20 for 20 litres of Avgas. I relaxed until nearly 16.00hrs before taking off – Kingston Seymour was 85 miles as the crow flies. I made a slight diversion to fly over Shobdon and considered landing there once more as flying was still quite arm wrenching. However, a veil of cirrus to the south promised to dampen the thermals and soon I was flying at about 2000ft in fairly calm conditions – once again overflying the radio dishes, the moated Raglan Castle built in the 15th Century, and passing close to a buzzard lazily soaring at this height at least 1700ft above the ground. Abeam Monmouth, I asked for a FIS from Filton. Rather than face 10 miles of Bristol Channel, I opted to cross by the new Severn Bridge at 3000ft and cut across to Portishead. To the south, the Bristol Channel was dazzling, its turbulent waters sparkling in the sun and illuminating the underside of Juliet-Juliet’s wings. An executive jet took off from Filton and curved towards me as it climbed to the north. ‘Microlight traffic in sight’, the woman pilot reported to ATC. Thank God for radio! The Bristol ATC cleared me to maintain this height until Clevedon, warning three light aircraft and a helicopter of my presence. Over Clevedon, I let down into Kingston Seymour in calm conditions with golden sunlight light casting a warm glow on the green fields of North Somerset. It was 17.45hrs. I had flown about 285 miles, spent 5hrs 20mins in the air and burnt between 65 and 70 litres of fuel. The best day’s flying this year. Only one thing wrong. No pictures! But here is one of Bill’s taken last year on the approach to 03. If you want to visit Talybont, please ring Bill Wynne on 01654-710101 before setting out. The coordinates are: N52°36.7 W004°04.5.

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A Little Light Navigation by Sandra Reid I’ve spent most of this summer learning to fly a flexwing microlight, as the foot and mouth outbreak has severely curtailed my usual pastime of paragliding. When I haven’t actually been flying, I’ve been plotting ways to escape from work early to get to GS Aviation, just outside Marlborough, ready for any opportunity to grab a lesson. I was a little shocked therefore, when my instructor, Rob, casually mentioned in conversation that there would be no lessons over the first weekend in September as everyone would be flying over for some sort of ‘do’ at a place called Blois in France. Well, a few conversations resulted in arrangements to complete my dual navigation exercises by Sandra Reid in her Quantum flying to the Loire Valley with Rob and the GSA team (yes, several hours more than strictly necessary perhaps, but I am a slow learner!). We met up at the airfield bright and early on the Thursday morning — to find that the weather was anything but bright. Oh terrific I thought — this doesn’t look too hopeful. Strangely enough everyone continued to pack the bare minimum of luggage into places I hadn’t even seen on microlights before. And then after a briefing we actually prepared to go! Three fixed wing and three flex wing take-offs later and we were on the way, on course for Lydd Airport. Unfortunately, our first casualty happened only an hour into the trip — Tim and Andy had engine trouble in their Q, and were forced to land in a field near Alton. This was so sad to see, and I imagined just how disappointed I would have felt in their position. Still, as Anne Robinson would say, you are the weakest link — Goodbye! At Lydd we met up with more team members — Rob had joined us in the air flying from Pegasus, and Paul and Mary were waiting on the ground having flown in on their shiny new Pegasus CT. Having refuelled (both bodies and machines) the flight plan was activated for us to fly over the Channel. Visibility still wasn’t great, so we kept at 2,000ft above the very grey waves below, which were punctuated occasionally by a few tankers. This slightly surreal flight changed when the French coast came into view, and we set a track for Abbeville. Landing here was under a very overcast sky, so still in the hunt for better weather, we

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took off and aimed south for Chartres. Although this gave us a long day in the air, we were only a short hop from Blois — our destination for the following day. After a leisurely breakfast in Chartres we wandered over to the airfield — only to find the CT draped in loads and loads of peach coloured tissue — the local pilots had admired this lovely new machine so much that they had secretly decorated it overnight. Of course, every one of us was under suspicion for the deed until the note from the French guys was found! So in good spirits we set off for the hour and a half down to Blois, which lived up to its reputation of being very easy to spot given the rows of white tents that would become the trade stands over the next 24 hours. This was important for me as I seemed to have particular difficulty in identifying airstrips until I was right on top of them, much to Rob’s amusement. Blois was everything I would expect from a French flying festival — a myriad of different flying machines, some of which with very strange interpretations of conventional flight practices! Mixed with this apparent chaos was the French officialdom and hordes of marshals to ensure that our wings were parked in precisely the right places, and that we had registered our details correctly in order to get our passes. Very quickly the area around the airfield filled up with all types of aircraft, many having tents pitched underneath the wings as part of the four star accommodation on offer. The trade stands were a real education as well, with everything imaginable con-

Paul’s CT plus Gallic Humour!

nected with microlight (and other) flying on display. Still the real treats for me were the flying displays — both intentional and others’ interpretations of ‘normal’ flight, and of course the unique atmosphere engendered by a huge gathering of like-minded people (probably similar to that experienced at a train spotter’s convention!). Having ‘done’ Blois the next day, we braved the French marshals to make our departures. They didn’t really seem to want to let us use all of the available runway so a little assertive manoeuvring was required, both in terms of getting a take off slot, and a safe distance in front of us to use. We became aerial tourists, flying down the River Loire and over the fabulous chateaux of the Loire Valley to La Fleche where Reg Whittall has an English microlighting school. We’d arranged to have a barbeque at his hunting lodge, and were greeted by a massive long table set out for us at the back complete with several old candelabra dotted up its centre. We were very well looked after with copious quantities of food and drink, and the nights seemed to be getting progressively more raucous as everyone was settling down into holiday mood! Next morning dawned bright and sunny, although we were mindful of the rubbish weather forecast. We decided to push on to the north coast, or at least as far as we could get. First stop was Bernay, which the three axis machines positively zoomed into. We flex-wings were a little more sedate, but this gave Steve the opportunity to fly with a buzzard as we skirted one of the large forested areas. Approaching Bernay, we made the decision to press on to the north, and overflew the airfield as the

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others prepared to take off again. Again, bad luck was to hit the team as Paul and Mary had trouble starting the CT, which grounded them until the bad weather arrived to keep them grounded. Meanwhile, we were flying towards a progressively lowering cloudbase and I was learning the sharp end of low-level navigation. Fairly quickly, however, Graham had overtaken us in the Jabiru, and it was good to have the radio communications on how bad (or improved) the visibility was going to get. In fact we discovered that conditions had been worse, as we went over the flexwings from Redlands that had flown up from Blois earlier that morning. They had been forced to land in a field en route, and took off to follow us having seen us go over and heard our radio communications. We eventually made St Valery on the coast, thankfully called it a day, and got a cab into town and a hotel. The bubble bath was pure luxury...(we didn’t have room for a lot — flying suits had to double as sleeping bags, only one pair of boots which just had to leak of course, etc etc), so having a real bed was fabulous. Another quiet night out(!) — well, the forecast really was so bad that we knew we weren’t getting up early. Unfortunately I managed to spill a pint of beer into my already damp boots (I’d taken them off in the bar as I was convinced I was getting trench foot) — not so much of a problem as they had the rest of the night to dry out a little. Of course, on staggering back to my room at some unmentionable hour I just threw my boots down, complete with beer soaked socks stuffed into them, so not much chance for them to dry out at all! I can hear your groans from here — believe me that’s nothing to my abject horror in the morning when I realised I had to actually wear these things! I worked on the basis that once they were on they wouldn’t come off until I was back at home in Petersfield (whilst thinking please, please don’t let us get stuck for another night). Still, the flying Gods seemed to be smiling on us the next day, so by early afternoon we’d taken off to fly along the north coast of France, past Dieppe, the Somme, and Le Touquet, ready to cross the Channel again. The coastline there is spectacular with the most amazing long stretches of high soarable cliffs — I was leaning over the trike babbling away to Rob about how wonderful it would be flying them on my paraglider. We crossed the Channel at 2,500ft, but this time had good visibility and could see the White Cliffs of Dover from miles down the French coast. Back to Lydd for the formalities and food, then the last push back to Marlborough. This took three hours into a headwind, and I was navigating. My natural inclination was just to pick up the Downs and then hop all along the free flying sites I know and love — Firle to Ditchling to the Dyke to Harting etc. However, as we had a track planned for a little further north I had to stick to that — and whilst I knew where we were in broad terms, that wasn’t nearly good enough for Rob who kept asking me (as he had been all trip) Where are we? What’s our next waypoint?

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Apr 2002 What’s our track? How long to run? All right for him huddled in the back with his GPS! Still, we got back smack onto Clench Common where the others had all landed — just us, and Steve in his flexwing to complete the team. I had very mixed emotions on the approach to the airfield — it was fantastic seeing everyone waiting for us, but equally the last thing I wanted to do was finish this wonderful adventure. So 17 flying hours under the belt — poor Rob didn’t get a look in, and was stuck in the back getting cramp on every flight. All that remains is to thank Mother Goose (Graham Slater), Rob McKellar (in the hope that he does get some feeling back in his legs), Martin and Dave (ground crew at base) and the rest of our airborne team for being such a fine group of people to enjoy flying with in the day, and to have a quiet mug of cocoa with each evening.

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Refuelling at Lydd - Weather typical!

Microlighting in

Rio

By Mike Hallums

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I count my self fortunate to have rediscovered the pleasure of aviation through the good offices of Jim Greenshields at Dunkerswell last year and after joining the BMAA my smile has grown wider by the airborne hour. By way of further fortune I find myself married to a Brazilian girl and thus have spent some time dabbling with aviation in Brazil. Being addicted to IVIF for bedtime reading I thought fellow stiff, and wobbly wing warriors might be interested in what goes on and up, down Rio way. Brazil, as most rabid aviators probably can recall, is the home of that perhaps forgotten steely eyed knight of the sky, Alberto Santos-Dumont. He of Demoiselle fame. He also invented the shower I’m told. His first creation is the stuff of dreams, his second

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rates very low in this particular MF reader’s interests ask Jim. Since Demoiselle days Brazilian aviation has developed almost unnoticed in Europe. A few North American machines have made their way to the South, but the really interesting stuff is home grown. The Brazilians have almost limitless open airspace and take a relaxed attitude to flying, perhaps sometimes a little too relaxed. What they do have is a set of respectable airworthiness standards which are worth noting. It goes (up) like this: Primary Non-motorised, up to 115kg empty weight. That covers the Deltas (hang gliders) and Parapents (parasails) found languidly riding the lift over Pria de Pepino in Rio, or Pepper Beach to mere mortals like me. Landing is on a football sized field and I have to say it’s a tad small. Most of the Delta undercarriages crumple on touchdown, but maybe that’s due to the distraction caused by the miniscule bikinis coming into focus just at the flare. Three point landings can really ruin your day, so they tell me… Basic Motorized, up to 230kg empty weight and a wing load limit of 28kg/sq. m. That mainly covers the wobblers like me, but I have to say they are few and far between. A stiff breeze always sets in after lunch, which is often breakfast, and aerial hard work on a full stomach definitely takes the fun out of it. Advanced Motorized - up to 300kg empty weight and 38kg/sq. m. A popular category and with enough capability to attract a wide following. Manufacturers such as Aerolev, Albatroz, Alfa, Altair, Fibron, Flyer, Microleve, Neiss, Proavia and Reis feature. There are quite a few more. Engines are mainly Rotax, but Koenig, Cuyuna, JPX, and ORC, the latter two being home grown. VLEA (Very Light Experimental Aircraft) Up to 6700kg empty and Vso officially less than 35kts. PFA type stiffwings in the main ans quite useful for covering the distances involved when traveling round the country. There are lots of Piper Cub copies, Tecnam Echos and many other homegrown stiffy brands. Our PFA chums would be very interested. The Club Ultraleve Esportive looks after the vertical interests of the aviating community in Rio, and who knows, probably the horizontal too. CEU means sky in Portuguese, the language of Brazil and ultraleve is ultralight, or microlight to us. The club’s facilities are simply first class and flying is unbelievably cheap. Two grass runways, 100+ aircraft, planning room, briefing room, weather station, five hangars, workshop, bulk storage fuel dispensed by pump, grass ramp with little hedges around parking spots, restaurant, pool, swing for the kids, enough, enough… the real treasure is - a lagoon. Wet water. Tha means amphibians, ones you jump in and taxi out, waddle down the slipway, lift the wheels and fly off the water. Wet water. There are two amphibian ultralight manufacturers in Brazil, Microleve and Flyer. A recent week-end saw 16 of them fly off down the coast and settle into a bay, for a beach barbeque, which is another Latin national sport. After having found out about amphib’s I just had to know more, hence blagging my way into

The Corsario takes off

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The Corsario Amphibian

Microleve’s Rio hangar and talking to Eduardo Clark, who builds them. His company has some 1300 aircraft flying, 300 being his Corsario amphibians. He showed me the construction records. This called for using the knowledge I gained whilst obtaining one of those CAA little red engineer’s books, plus some pigeon Portuguese. An hour’s browsing through his build files convinced me it really is true. After he scanned through a handy copy of a Section S I found in my armpit he volunteered to draw up a suitable specification. It went like this; Corsario Mk l1, 503, with a C box, Arplast three blade prop, open cockpit, fixed tailwheel with retractable mains, double skinned wings, 230kg empty weight, US $10,000 for the kit excluding engine, box and prop. Maybe silly grins pay off because an hour later we were on our third water landing and my wife was overhead Rio in another Corsario flown by Cesar Nepomuceno, the CEU club chairman. Gentlemen all. The only slight nag in the back of my mind is the club is located at Jacarepagua lagoon, which means little crocodile. Perhaps that’s why water landings require at least 3 cans of lager ballast be loaded during the pre-flight. It’s on the check list they said, pointing to the menu. After exploring the Corsario I set about learning more. The hangars hold some treasures fit to behold. The next delight, a single seat tricycle biplane pusher with what looked like an odd Rotax 912 driving two blades. This ‘Ye Gods’ machine can occasionally be seen inverted and legend has it, hails originally from Russia. Maybe the aerobatics are a result of vapours from some long forgotton spillage of Boris juice in the cockpit. Perhaps it’s not Russian and the aeros come from traffic fumes. Brazil burns alcohol in the cars, perhaps that’s the secret? Should the land of open blue skies, friendly flyers, lots of machines and £1000 PPL’s beckon I would be pleased to divulge more to interested parties. A good place to start is Enciclopedia de Avioes Brasileiros. If that whets your appetite and you can squeeze the wife into a string bikini, then head South my friend. .

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I guess that we all have dreams or ambitions that we would love to fulfil but somehow there is always something that gets in the way. Well, today nothing did. Got up fairly early and a quick phone call to Dunkeswell confirmed CAVOK even though there was a lot of fog lying in the valleys. Dropped into the garage to pick up fuel on the way to Kingston. I arrived at the airfield to find that the fog was drifting through in patches so I should be able to find a window to take off in. I spent the next half hour checking over Juliet Charlie at the same time keeping an ear open on Bristol International’s weather. Ready to go and fortunately there’s a nicely timed gap in the fog. Away on 24 and within a few seconds I’m above the fog and into a crystal blue sky. A quick call to Bristol with my intentions and away down the coast we go. I leave Bristol approach at Burnham and free call Yeovilton radar. Very friendly but also very busy so as long as I call when letting down at Dunkeswell they’re happy with that. Exactly one hour later and I’m on short final for 05. I land long to save taxiing too far and as I pass the runway intersection there is Rob waiting at the hold to follow me down to the aircraft park. I tie down Juliet Charlie whilst Rob parks up the beast. A quick trip to the flying school to book in and pay landing fees and it’s back to the beast. I call it the beast but it’s really a combination of beauty and the beast. This stunning machine is the Extra 300. Rob’s very keen to get going, he doesn’t like being on the ground for too long. I now understand why! First comes the parachute, a very compact little unit which is compulsory attire even though you are never likely to break this particular plane. Climbing into the front seat wasn’t such a problem even for a creaky old so-andso like me. Rob climbed up to run through the seat belts and help with the helmet and intercom. You tighten the main seat belt with

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amount of stick movement giving you a 360° roll in about 1.5secs. Just a small amount of down elevator is needed to hold the beast level as you pass through inverted. Don’t forget this machine has a roll rate of 420°/sec if you really want to do things fast. We tried several more moves, stall turns, loops with rolls off the top, barrel rolls etc. Some of my efforts were ok-ish, some were not but this beautiful beast didn’t seem to be bothered. By this time I wasn’t feeling 100% so Rob calmed things down for a couple of minutes. This plane just carves the most wonderful turns through the sky. I’m feeling a bit better now so let’s try some knife-edge flying. I only manage a couple of seconds and plane is protesting but Rob assures me that this is the one manoeuvre that this plane isn’t too keen on. A quick stall check reveals that this baby can bite. As we pull gently back the airspeed decays. There is no sign of protest, then suddenly she just flicks over into a spin. The beast is still there, just hiding, but recovery is just as instantaneous. Time all to soon to head back. ‘You OK for one last radical move?’ from the back. What can you say? ‘Go for it!’ WAHHHH! The next few seconds are unreal. I have no idea which way up, down, left, right, end over end we are. Whatever this spinny, tumbly thing was it was FANTASTIC! We are now rejoining for 05. ‘Huh! No way to arrive at an airfield’ from the back. Blink, inverted again, downwind, left base, final still hanging in the straps. What an unusual view of the runway. Blink, and we are sideslipping in to touchdown, WOW. A quick taxi and we are parked outside the Dawn Patrol again. Everything is quiet once more. Rob climbs up beside me to help get the helmet off. We spend a few minutes chatting over the flight. I finally and reluctantly extricate myself from the beast and it’s off with the chute. Ummm. Legs seem a little wobbly. ‘Come on Rob, I’ll buy you a cuppa’. I only take a few paces and nearly fall over. Rob’s peeing himself

Extra, Extra! by Terry Dockrell. a lorry style ratchet, and believe me when I say tight - I mean tight! While Rob gets comfy in the back (P1 in this little baby) I get a chance to settle in. The front cockpit is pretty sparse; ASI and ALT are your only instruments plus a couple of fresh air vents. To talk to the pilot you have to press the PTT on the throttle lever so you tend to keep things short and to the point. There’s a continuous stream of reassuring chat from the boss in the back as he warms up the 300 ponies under the lid. Time to backtrack 05 to the threshold using a continuous zigzag, as forward vis. on the ground is zero. While we are taxiing there is a horrible rattling sound that comes and goes. Just the solid tailwheel I am told and quite normal. We stop at the threshold and Rob goes through the final checks. ‘OK Terry, Here we go’ from the back and we are lined up and rolling. You can keep your fast cars, this is 300 angry gee gee’s pulling along a plane that weighs about the same as an empty confetti box. We are airborne before the intersection and climbing away rapidly. Muttering from the back ‘This is no way to leave an airfield’ I blink, we’re inverted and climbing away as steeply as before! I look up and we’re crossing the airfield boundary. Blink and we’re upright again at 2000ft. ‘Terry, you have control, try some turns and keep climbing to 6000ft’. You are immediately aware that this aeroplane responds without question to the minutest control movements, and at the same time feels totally stable although it will stay exactly where you put it. If you leave it one wing low it stays there waiting for your next input. The controls are beautifully harmonised and only require fingertip and toe movements to achieve the most dramatic results. ‘Ok, lets try some basic aero’s.’ With each move Rob flies through first giving a superb commentary and then it’s my turn. The loop is straightforward; nose down slightly to 160kts then a continuous gentle pull back, ease off a little over the top and then a little backward pressure to pull through. You only feel the G as you are pulling back up but it’s very easy to pull on through level and end up having to correct. Flick rolls are fairly easy, a small

laughing at me ‘She got you as well then.’ came the retort. Having been reassured that this happens to everyone we wobble off to the café. Ten minutes chatting and I try to stand up and promptly nearly fall over again. Very funny! ‘Give yourself half an hour before you head home, and you’ll be ok!’ Apparently you do become accustomed to this but it takes a while for your balance to settle again. A final goodbye and thanks to Rob and its time to head home. I’m soon climbing away in Juliet Charlie en route to see if any of the Zoyboyz are about. Blink, nothing. Try again but alas JC doesn’t want to play this game. Drop in at Zoyland for a quick coffee with PU and PD, no one else around and time is running out so it’s away north again. Pick up Bristol approach at Burnham and I’m soon letting down at Kingston and the sun has just gone. Half an hour later JC is safely tucked away and I’m heading home. The brain is still spinning through the moves. What a day!