emergencies

Flew S and a friend down to Bankstown to pick up the Robin. I was flying the club Warrior. Weather was wierd. Hot humid early summer day but started out with very poor viz down to 4000 in haze from bushfires and smog, with very low cloud dorn to 1000 feet. Left at lunchtime, climbing out in Class C. By the time we were starting over Lake Macquarie the remnants of the low cloud forming a broken shelf at 2500 ft and lowering to 2000 further south. Viz wasnt great but at least 10 kms thru the northern suburbs of Sydney.

Over Prospect just about call Bankstown tower when a Piper Cub calls inbound from the same location. Three heads in the Warrior going round and round, where is he? Approaching 3 miles to runway one-one and we are almost on top of it when he calls 3 miles. Still cant see him. We call and look and look. There! Maybe one mile ahead. He floats, down down, finally, touches down as we are approaching late finals. He misses the first taxiway and crawls to almost a stop. We're going to have to go around, as I mentally prepare myself and mention it to S. Tower tells me to Go Around, and I reply Going Round, and S shouts What?, Dont!. But I am in control and look at him sternly as I guard the throttle from his desire to grasp. He asks if the Tower directed me around? and I say Yes. And concentrate on the transition from Landing configuration to Climbing configuration. We turn downwind and I call reminding the tower of my intentions. He graciously gives me landing clearance ahead of a cessna at 3 miles, but it is too tight and I decline - it would be making him go around. He renumbers me number two and I follow the cessna after some head swivellings finding him. S berates me for going too fast. You're doing 120! I'm doing 110 yes a little too fast. I am a little close but nothing like the Cub. Tower offers me runway right but I decline. The cessna baloons upwards. What? He floats past the piano keys deep into the runway before touching down and almost stopping. Here we go again. I am 100 ft, 80, 60 when he finally pulls off to the left and Tower gives me landing clearance. ... There was a fair crosswind and I am more in-control with less flap, particularly if there is the possibility of a go around. ... Shaking my head we pull in behind the cessna on the taxiway leaving runway centre. The tower tells the cessna that left is inactive and no need to wait for crossing clearance.

I drop S and P and refuel, peculiarly consipuous in my cammies. It is my lunch hour and I have no food, though I do have some water to drink. It is fairly hot.

I depart before the Robin and charge up the lane. Over Pennant Hills, still listening to BK Tower I hear the Robin get take off clearance. I see my old house, fly right over it only 1000 ft above the ground (still cloudy). See my old school. Broken Bay, listen to a floatplane landing in Pittwater.

The view draws me northward. I have flown this so many times now I know what I can see before I see it. 25 miles call Clearance Delivery who assign a transponder code. 12 miles call Approach who clear me direct at 1500 ft. 7 miles to Tower who clears a visual approach to early downwind. A commercial jet has jsut taken off and immediately asks tower for return to base due to smoke in the cockpit. He is given priority and the fire tenders are called. I am told to orbit on downwind. The Robin shows up on frequency and is not given visual approach but told to orbit on downwind 500 ft higher than me. I do two orbits over Fullerton Cove, watching the 737 approach. He lands and pulls off the runway and I am cleared to land.

What a flight!

Pelican flight

It is midday. I am 2000' over Gosford on the Central Coast flying the Robin back from Bankstown. The sun is starting to break out after a week of rainy overcast. I have just flow through the last of the showers as I crossed Broken Bay, looking down at the fine Thursday yachts moving in and around its mazey inlets. I am over the urban sprawl looking north when against a forest background, straight ahead there sharp and precise movement towards me, slightly below, white against dark green, slightly below. It speeds as it approaches and it looks like a pair of fighters - left lead forward, wingman tight behind and to the lead's right. Astonished I stare and make sure we are not on a collision course. Radio controlled models???!!! The are only 100 or so feet below me and to my right as I roll hard to the right to continue to stare. PELICANS!! as they break into sharp focus. Not a hint of a wing beat that would normally give away their avian identity. Tight gliding formation on an arrow straight course south towards Brisbane Waters. Are they setting me up and laughing?

My camera is on the shelf behind me as I turn tightly back towards them, then dismiss the thought as unlikely to capture anything near the beaauty of the moment, assuming I can catch them, keep them in sight while turning the camera on, fly the plane into a good position and not get a blurred shot. Hold the vivid look of their black and white plumage, their slightly tilted upwards faces - long bills pointing straight ahead, and wings rigidly perpendicular to their bodies.

I love birds.



(Photo from www.nioc.fsnet.co.uk/intermediate04.htm prize winner Ray Bennet)

Lost on the ground

I dropped the Robin to the wrong mechanics! For midweek it was a busy Bankstown midday. With three or four aeroplanes and helicopters in the queue for finals for 11L. I taxied to the far western end of the aerodrome to where I'd previously dropped off or picked up the Robin. Parked, dipped the tanks, copied the numbers, put on the locks. Only to wonder if I was at the right place. S was only three aeroplanes back in the queue. He should be here by now. Lucky I brought the mobile phone, actually forgot it in the car and walked back for it back at the club. Now I confirmed, yep, taxiway delta. All the way over the eastern end of the aerodrome. The three or four people at the hanger were looking at me kind of funny. Even funnier now as I push back, turn around, climb in, unlock, start up and taxi off. And all the way there there were aeroplanes taxiing towards me, I had to thread the maze for a clear taxiway and eventually got there. Sorry!

S asked if I wanted to fly back. He'd been doing most of the passenging with me as the pilot ferry so I said no thanks, I'm happy to passenge a bit.

And I was. Casual navigating with the GPS and radio freq changes made it easier for S to check off his waypoints. And I got to photo my teenage home in Normanhurst. We chatted about the weather on the way back. We'd turned back early the same morning over the Central Coast when an unforecast wall of low cloud blocked our path south. I was in the lead and S and I used 126.7 as interplane to coordinate our survey that it did extend well south and too close to the ground, on the ground in places, to be safe therefore we turned back. It had burned off by midday but there was an appalling smog in its place trapped under the inversion layer at 2500 feet, and the prospect of the previous days' Mega Thunder/Hail Storm appearing in our path became a more strident topic of conversation as we watched a CB mushroom into the stratosphere abeam and slightly left of Williamtown – our destination. Well we beat it and we taxied back as its shelf clouds turned black, but soon after it evaporated into the blue sky.

Two hours in the log, plus another 50 minutes of bouncing in the bubbling air in the right hand seat. I am a sky person.

Photo of Normanhurst suburb of Sydney taken while flying north. I grew up in the middle right-south of the photo. (Harder to get lost in the sky).

Brooklyn Bridge

Where the Hawksbury River (right-west) becomes Broken Bay (left-east). View from the Robin on a trip to Canberra.

Goulburn

I had the great luck to be in need of a Biennial Flight Review at the same time the club needed to pick up a new aaeroplane gong on line. From Goulburn. So I ferried the Chief Flying Instructor down so he could assess my flying, so he could fly the Warrior back, with me, and assess its performance against the Robin's 100 knot cruise. Worked out very well. Planned to fly through Richmond control zone, and got there a minute before it came active. The tower called us in and we passed details and they gave us onwards airways clearance - to Warragamba, The Oaks, and then over some spectacular gorges from 4500 feet all the way down. Into a 25 knot headwind, took a while. First time on the ground in Goulburn and had the chance for a bit of a chat and walk around waiting for fuel. (Wandered around this venerable Dak with hitherto never before seen turbine engines!!)

Nice trip back, over Prospect, to Hornsby over my teenage abode, Patonga thence Lake Macquarie, working Williamtown approach to achieve a nicely slotted arrival, before the CFI and a Banderante on his tail.

Iced

Another 6am start for a ferry flight. This time I offered to be the pick up pilot, which meant S got a two leg turn. Didnt need to fuel up so an early start meant that we were accelerated aloft soon after first light - a good 30 minutes before sunrise.

Merely passenging I could stare at the visuals of the pastel world, well lit up to the horizon and yet dim enough that you could see the glow from street lights reflected back up from the ground as a kind of phosphoresence around the street lights still.

Wispy mists up the Williams River Valley and the Barrington Tops - dark, foreboding and five thousand feet tall to the north.

The Golden Star, Sol blazed into view as the Earth rolled with us in the circuit area at Cessnock.

We arrived to find the Cessna covered in ice. It was wwwway colder there. It looked pretty with its thick white coat. Though scraping it off the windscreen make even gloved fingers sting from cold.

S left me to it and flew back, while I fiddled with pre-flights, and forms, and numbers and stuff. Wiggled into the correct position with the seat and my leg length. Headset, GPS, Kneeboard, map, checks, switches, primer pump, "Clear Prop" start, Cough, splutter, turn ... Turn ... stop

Oh no, flat battery. Aaahhh. S's in flight and out of radio range (me on the ground). Start, turn, stop.

Get out, walk around, stand in the sun and watch the ice slowly melt off the little two seater's white wings. Get back in, prime, start, catch , cough, die.

I tried this several times and three times the engine started then died. Each time if I waited somehow the battery regained sufficient charge to turn the prop over.
Eventually I primed it five times (a record) and yes it starts and stays started. I sit warily, for a minute. Not touching the throttle.

Lift the headset on. Do the harness up. Put the kneeboard and GPS in place. Shut the door. Oil temp hasnt moved and probably wont for ages. Beacon on. Radio on. Slowly throttle up and taxi out to the run up area. Run up checks work, leave the carb heat on for ages. All normal.

Taxi call, line up and blast off to the north. Climbing out on upwind I think about the vineyards here centered around Cessnock. Like for the first time. I notice unusually large buildings with lawns and carparks and realise they are major wineries. Here they all are! I'm looking at them, everywhere I turn! How beautiful they all are among all the remnant forest.

I fly over the house on the way back and the circle overhead while a 737 makes its approach over the river. I notice the frog pond for the first time from the air. It looks great!

Landscape knitting

Another ferry flight out of Cessnock this morning in a bright clear windy winter sky. S was passenging and commented how the vineyards were in oversupply. I said but how pretty are they. They look like they are knitted onto the landscape. I was looking at four hexagonal vine fields that circled a little hill. They could have been wool keeping it warm.

Solo Bat

I fly alone fairly often. But its best when doing aerobatics. Experienced or novice passengers are equally distracting. Yesterday, alone in the bright voids above the beach. Turning and loopings, stalling and falling. Rolling and diving at the Sunday 4WD armadas on the sand. Only a radio to state your position to other pilots who remained invisible in the bright bllue day.

sloppy aeroboatics

The club president thought it'd be good to go flying again so I invited him for a ride while I caught up with some aero practice. Time gets away from you. It'd already been six months since I'd flown a sequence. So it was basic. Two loops, two rolls, two stall turns and a fast glide approach to shut down before it ticks over point five.

The cloud ceiling was just about where it would be a nuisance, 4000 feet. But it was scattered and less over the coast. 90 degree turns to check for silent air traffic. None so wing over dive 130 knots haul back the stick and look "up" for the horizon coming over. A bit slow, but S shouting "we fell off the top" I though was a bit of an exageration. Hey I', a bit rusty. We didnt really lose 500 ft. I just left it there. Haul the wing over and let the nose drop into a steep dive. 130 knots come up fast. Haul back harder until the stall warning squeeks. Over over "you did it again!". I did not do it the first time. (I reckon the 130 knots should really be 135). How you feeling? Ok. Alright a couple of rolls. Hard right, push forward. Ease back out of the dive. She really drops the nose eh? Yes. 108 knots, Hard left, push forward. That's better. A stall turn. 115 knots and the Robin is standing on its tail, but the ASI shows 60 knots dropping slowly, look left, almost vertical, hard left rudder, right stick. Slowly she pivots dropping a little onto its back, then sliding fast to a nost down face full of trees attitude. Draw baack the throttle and pull back on the stick till we're going up again and push the rpms back up. Again! Same deal until we're going straight up but this time I apply right stick at the same time as I go full left rudder. She stalls with a dramatic nose down flop. THat's it. First time I've cocked up a stall turn. Not that it matters. Just need more practice. How you feeling? ...err, yeah I think I've had enough. Ok lets go below!

Wet in the air

It's been dry for so long. We're lucky to be as close to the coast as we are, but the rain shadow starts at about our distance. It's been like a desert back west.

So it's nice when it rains. Not when you're flying though. Showers are ok. You can see the beginning and end of them. But good soaking rain just goes on and on.

I didnt have my flying gear with me when S called. I'd ridden my motorbike in to work. Even though rain was forecast. Heard that before. So help me pick up an aeroplane from the LAME at Cessnock? Oh ok. I could borrow a chart and there are spare headsets at the flying club.

The radar picture was peculiar. A fast moving band of blue (light rain) moving in from the west. Extensively. Oh well, the met forecast was ok. Windy in two hours. Light rain. Sweet.

Fuel up first? Half a tank. Rain. Yeah, better. Just in case.

The delay put us closer to the winds, especially flying west, into it. Climbing to 1500 feet, the picture was pretty darn grey.

Press on S? Looks iffy? Yeah.... Then Air Traffic hands us off into uncontrolled airspace, and oh what the heck. We can see Kurri, the highway below us. Greyness ahead. We're flying in full on rain.

Is that the cloud base? Going down to the ground?

No. Veils of rain.

More rain behind it. We'll be in it in a minute.

The cloud base is up there. Somewhere...

The GPS is in my flying bag. At home in the 4WD. Below me and behind. And of all days this is when I might actually need it.

There's Cessnock. The town. Cant make out the airport. That's the hangars isnt it?

Traffic Cessnock, Robin joining crosswind three five.

Put down ok after a way too high and hot approach – too close to the field (didnt want to lose sight of it). Though I really didnt want to go around either. Wonder if the runway's slippery because it's been teeming like it has been since Thornton. Nope, pull off at the first taxiway and park. Wait for S but he needs to refuel. The plane he's picking up is working ok, so go on ahead back to work. I'll come back if you need.

I give my calls and launch underneath a Cessna 152 that's overflying low for downwind. Wanting to get out of it. I'm going back into it. How's that cloudbase? I stay at 1000 feet as I turn east north of the field. Point the nose at the Auto Direction Finder set to Williamtown and keep it level. Work the radio frequency changes for airways clearance in the bouncy grey wetness.

Clearance Delivery, Centre, Tower, Surface Movement Control.

I am alone, me in my 120 knot rain lashed bubble canopy and the air traffic controller's instructions through my headset. I can make out the Kurri smelter. It's the only thing big enough to stand out from five miles in this murkiness. Almost at the boundary.

I am flying over the farm. I like this trip because it takes me over the top. Not seeing much now though. Rain streaming all the way down to the rapidly filling swamps nearby. Nice to see rain going down...far below.

I am sequenced in to land. Tower asks if I can see the field. Affirm. He mustnt be able to see me. But I am much smaller among all these rain drops than he is on the ground. The air trafficers shut down their controlled air space after I land. Leave it up to pilot discretion. The weather's not much good for any actual work. Well, I helped bring one of our planes back. That's work. One hour command time in the log book.

That's the worst VMC I've ever been in. And it was mad fun.

Birds in flight

Another ferry to Cessnock, picking up a club pilot. Perfect vis no clouds, winter midday. On the windy side with a few hard low bumps.

1500 feet just this side of the Kurri smelter I see two white objects that could only be birds tracking across my path. I wonder what sort of birds they are and realise I only have to turn right a little to intercept them. I am about 200 ft above their level. Twenty seconds later I am slightly aft and they are to my right flapping hard, arrow straight, in the approximate direction of Dungog. They are white (or light brown and white) pigeons (of course). The lead bird is on the left and his wingman is close in, one length back and one wingspan apart. Impressive.

You dont always see birds. Can be scary when they are right in your 12. They can be surprisingly high up. On the way back there was a wedge-tail eagle in our 12, but high; maybe 300 ft higher (1800 ft above ground level). I turn little left to ensure he doesnt do a dive onto us for some appalling reason, but he doesnt. Soaring serenely, unlike his pigeon prey.