The Flying Fish

Bushmans Kloof

2012-01-30T22:27:00.000+02:00

What better way to start the year, than by flying a PC-12 to Bushmans Kloof (near Clanwilliam).
I don’t have much time to write blog posts these days, so this one is going to have more photos than writing.

In short, I got to fly in the right seat on a charter to Bushmans Kloof, and we spent a day and a half, and a night there. We were treated to excellent food and a stunning view. The staff were incredibly friendly and professional, and I felt like I was on holiday.

There was a long line of aircraft waiting to get airborne in the rather dreary weather

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The 'terminal' at Bushmans Kloof

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One of at least 3 pools

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The view from the 'stoep'

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A river no more than 50m from the cottages

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A large deck with a 'kitchen' area (braai and wood oven), and fire area, nestled in the mountains, was the venue for a traditional South African dinner.

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The dam outside some of the cottages.

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Heading back to the airfield (it's about 20 minutes' drive from the lodge)

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The gravel runway

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Wingtip :)

The Flattery... is Bat...

2012-01-03T18:48:00.000+02:00

Friday, 30 December

A few weeks ago, I started doing aerotowing, or 'tugging', at the Cape Gliding Club in Worcester. I fly a 180hp Super Cub, and it's my job to pull the glider along behind me, until we find an area with plenty of lift, so that they can go and do their soaring thing.

While it's intense flying, it doesn't last for very long, because each tow is about 15 minutes, with about 5 minutes spent on the ground while preparing for the next two (so call it a total of 20 minutes per glider). I've done 14 tows so far, and I've gained less than 4 hours. But this type of flying teaches you a lot.

Today was a bit of a slow day; the weather wasn't playing ball so we had to postpone the flying for a few hours, and there were only 4 tows planned. While waiting for the weather to improve, I drove around Worcester in search of a McDonald's. Worcester reminds me of Stellenbosch, only, the streets are wider, there are less trees, and everyone seems to have a death wish (they walk across the road, stop, run back, stop, then go back the other way again).

The previous two days that I did tugging, things were very rushed, but today I was able to do
everything nice and slowly, and get myself and all my gear in the cockpit with time to spare. I went through the pre-start checks (of which there are few), checked all around to make sure it was clear, and hit the starter.

Nothing. I tried again. The prop half-heartedly did a quarter of a turn. I changed tanks and tried again. Same thing. I climbed out and was about to run to one of the glider pilots to tell him the Super Cub wasn't playing along, when I decided to give it one more go. This time she started up.

I taxi'd to the threshold, did my runups, waited to see what the glider pilots wanted to do, and when they all just stood there chatting, I decided to shutdown because they looked like they were really going to take their time.

As soon as the aircon stopped, the heat hit me. It was a relatively windless day, with temperatures in the mid to high thirties. I was sweating within minutes. After about 10 minutes, the glider pilots decided to start flying. It takes them a while to get set up on the runway, so I took my time with the start.

Aircraft ready, I pushed the starter button. Half a splutter. Again, quarter splutter... Long story short, the battery was on its way out. So some of the other pilots went to fetch jumper leads while I melted in the sun, drank warm juice, was attacked by flies, and listened to a pair of fish eagles doing some soaring of their own.

It was the first time I've jump-started an aircraft, and once we got her running, I made sure everything was working properly before setting off with the first glider. After an hour, all four gliders were making their way around the mountains (they managed to get to Swellendam and back), and I sat around in case anyone else pitched up and needed a tow.

When no one pitched up for a couple of hours, I got bored and decided to call it a day.
It took me over half an hour to put the plane back in the hangar (the doors don't like to open, and you need to push the aircraft up a hill to get it into the hangar), so after that I was tired, even more sweaty, and ready for bed.

Another day of good, challenging flying.

Working on Fire Day, Fisantekraal

2011-12-17T13:26:00.000+02:00

Thursday, 15 December

For the first time in 3 years, I remembered the Working on Fire ‘display’ held at Fisantekraal Airfield at the start of every fire season in the Cape. This is when all the aircraft and pilots come together to put on a little show (normally for VIP’s) demonstrating their fire fighting capabilities.

When I arrived at Fisantekraal all I could see were pilots in their yellow and blue flight suits. I wandered around a bit, chatted to some of the pilots, and then made my way to a gleaming Ayres Turbo Thrush. This was the first time I’d ever seen one ‘in the flesh’ (I was going to say metal, but, it’s made of both metal and fabric...). Beautiful.

While everyone was milling around waiting for the demonstration, I made my way up the tower. It was erected a while ago for a film shoot, and never taken down. Many months have passed and the paint has faded, and the wood is starting to look a little tired. Needless to say I didn’t feel too comfortable standing on the thing.

However, the view was awesome; to the West, Table Mountain. And to the East were 8 proud Huey’s, 3 majestic Turbo Thrush’s, 2 monster Dromader’s, and 4 faithful Spotters. Heaven.

The ‘event’ started with a few speeches, and the ground crew based at Fisantekraal strutting their stuff. They marched around (it looked better than the marching I’ve seen some people in the military do), and then sang the national anthem. People always have something good or bad to say about Working on Fire, but that day, I saw a dedicated group of people that seemed to be proud of their job.

The flying side of things kicked off with Spotter 3 spluttering to life. That was followed by three Turbo Thrush’s turbine’s slowly spooling up (they were so quiet that I only heard them for the first time when they applied power to taxi). And then one Huey. And another. And yet another. And last but not least, the little whine and growl of a Dromader.

The yellow machines looked good, and they sounded even better. The thump of the Huey blades shaking the ground, the drone of the Dromader rattling your bones.

One of the Huey’s got airborne and circled just to the north of the field, a Working on Fire crew on board. The Spotter then took off and circled the field, as if he were spotting for a real fire. The other two Huey’s set off towards a dam to fill their 1000l bambi buckets. And then, one by one, the bomber’s took off.

Once all the aircraft taking part were airborne, the first Huey dropped off the crew and they began beating the ‘fire’. The bomber’s then came in one by one, and dropped their load of water. As soon as they release the water, they pretty much shoot up into the air, it’s a sight that won’t get old. The pilots of the more manoeuvrable Turbo Thrush’s seemed to be having a lot of fun.

After the bomber’s, the Huey’s came in and emptied their bambi buckets. By this stage the crew on the ground were suitably soaked.
To end off, the bomber’s did a low-level fly-past each, the main gear mere metres from the ground (I pictured a lush green field below them, instead of the nasty concrete runway), and the Huey’s thundered past before landing.

It was great chatting to some of the pilots. Looking into the cockpit of the Turbo Thrush’s was even better. And hearing all those aircraft was the icing on the cake. May you all have a safe fire season!

Ysterplaat Wings and Wheels 2011

2011-12-12T16:01:00.000+02:00

This year, those of us in the Cape had a rather dull airshow season. In fact, the only two were the one at Swellendam, and the one at Stellenbosch, and they could hardly be called airshows (more like fly-ins).

So when the time for Wings and Wheels rolled around, I was quite excited.

The show was on 9 and 10 December (Friday and Saturday), which is unusual; it's normally on Saturday and Sunday. I opted to go on the Friday, because I figured there would be less traffic and less people.

Despite leaving at 0600, I still ended up sitting in traffic for over an hour. But I still arrived before 0800, and I was greeted with loads of parking space, and not a single queue for tickets.

In fact, the place was empty. And it remained that way for pretty much the whole day.

Because it was a Wings and Wheels show, there were aircraft and cars. Unfortunately, there were more cars than aircraft, and the line-up of aircraft wasn't that great;
Dakota, 110 Squadron (Premier 1 and Baron), Lynx, Super Cub towing a banner, Silver Falcons, Working on Fire demo (x2 Huey's, a Spotter and Dromader) Oryx, RV Team, Solo RV, Yak, SAA 737 did a high fly-past, T28 Trojan, Pitts Special, Christen Eagle, Diamond, Provost, Hawk, L39 (x3) and the Gripen.

No parachutists, no Hercules, no foreign visitors.

The flying and car displays weren't very well-planned; they had cars racing up and down the taxi-way during an RV display. Do I watch the cars, or the RV? Hmmm... And the revving cars masked the sound of the aircraft.

The time between some of the displays was upward of 10minutes. At one stage, there was at least a 20min gap with absolutely nothing happening. That's when the cars should've done their thing.

So while it was great not having to wrestle with hundreds of other spectators, the overall feel of the 'show' was rather pathetic.

However... the Silver Falcons had two great performances. Their routine has a few extras (they modified it slightly in September, I think), which made it interesting. So a very big congratulations to Team 72.

The Hawk displays, flown by "Shark", were stunning. He flies a fast-paced, low display, that has you thinking "Please pull out of that loop/dive... come on, you're getting low. Don't hit the ground... Phew!". And the sound alone is enough to get people grinning.

And then there was the Gripen...
Flown by "Cobra", it was the best jet display I've seen in my 4 years of attending air shows. He kicked things off by taking off with a fairly strong tailwind, the aircraft handling it as if it was nothing.

His display consisted of many high-speed fly-pasts, tight turns (showing off the diamond paint scheme and underside well), loops, and rolls. The slow fly-past ('High Alpha') not only looked good, but sounded wonderful (especially as the engine spooled up as he prepared to climb away).

And then, saving the best for last... He did a high-speed fly-past, pulled up, vapour clinging to the wings (not something you see often in the Cape), afterburner glowing, and shot off some flares (which I missed... oops).

That display made the day worth it!

So all wasn't lost. But I hope that they plan things better next time.

NSRI/SAAF Exercise: Simon’s Town

2011-11-17T17:53:00.000+02:00

Saturday, 12 November

The morning dawned cold and bright... no wait, it was 4am when I got up; it wasn’t bright. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, there’s pretty much only one thing that will get me to wake up that early; aeroplanes.

And in this case, it was the Oryx!

A friend of mine who volunteers for the NSRI told me that they (the NSRI) would be conducting an exercise with the SAAF, and asked me if I wanted to go with to take photos. While the thought of having to wake up at 4am did put me off a little bit, the opportunity to see the Oryx in action motivated me.

The exercise took place in the Simon’s Town Harbour (military section), and an Oryx and 4 NSRI boats were involved. Crews from various NSRI stations took part.

Things kicked off with the Oryx arriving in style, sending sand everywhere (I think I still have some in my hair). A safety briefing was held, outlining everything from approaching the helicopter, climbing in and out, and how the strop for lifting people worked.

The first exercise was ‘dry-lifts’. The Oryx hovered above the dock, and the NSRI swimmers were hoisted up to the helicopter, and then back down. This was to allow those that had never done it before, to become familiar with the sensation, sights and sounds.

After that, the groups of swimmers were chucked in the icy waters of the harbour. The Oryx would then pick them up one by one, fly to the dock once about 6 were in the chopper, chuck them out, and repeat. Every time she came back to drop the swimmers off, I braved about 5 tonnes of downwash, while sand was blasted into my eyes and mouth, and down my shirt, just to take a few photos.

I regretted not buying a filter for my camera lens; I don’t think it enjoyed the sandblasting (at least it wasn’t as bad as when I went out on the boat when they had an exercise with AMS; the sea spray wasn’t fun).

Unfortunately I had to leave before they completed the exercise; I was hoping to be able to climb into the Oryx and have a look around. Oh well, maybe next time.

Thanks D, for inviting me. And thank you to the NSRI for allowing me to hang around and take some photos!

Flying the R22

2011-11-13T21:00:00.000+02:00

In October I stumbled across a competition on Facebook to win an introductory flight in an R22 with Base4 in Cape Town. All one had to do was write no more than 1000 words about why they wanted to fly helicopters. In the mood to write and with nothing better to do, I decided to write about my few helicopters flights, and why I enjoyed them.

It turned into a lot (997 words to be precise) of waffling, and I never submitted it. A couple of weeks later I saw that the competition would close soon, and I decided “What the heck, I’ve got nothing to lose, I’ll submit my story.”

Not long after that, I received a phone call to say that I had won. I haven’t won many competitions in my short life, and all I could say was a rather unenthusiastic “Okay, cool, that’s great.” It took a couple of hours for it to sink in.

On Monday 7 November, I made my way to Cape Town International for my flight. The staff at Base4 were friendly and welcoming, and I met my instructor, signed my life away (indemnity form), and then my instructor and I sat down and talked aerodynamics.

Helicopters are like fixed wings, they just have more parts that can break. After much nodding and me thinking “Yup, that term sounds familiar... I know how that works... Okay, I didn’t know that applied to helicopters”, we made our way to the chopper.

My instructor explained every aspect of the pre-flight to me, and we probably spent over 20 minutes on that alone. And during all that time I kept thinking “I can’t believe I’m going to willingly strap myself into an R22!”

Eventually the time did come to climb into the chopper. I was told to sit in the right seat (opposite to fixed wing) and make myself comfortable. The R22 is about as cramped at the Cubby, and the anti-torque pedals aren’t in line with the seat, so your legs and feet are at a funny angle, which was mildly annoying.

Start-up is much like that of a fixed wing. I’ve never liked the sound of the R22, and always thought of it as a lawnmower. Ironically, it’s equipped with the Lycoming O-320 engine, which is what the Super Cub I flew the other day has. Hmmm... It sounds better on a Super Cub.

By the time we were ready to go, we were both melting; it was a hot day and the large perspex windows didn’t help reduce the heat. So it was a welcome relief when we took power and some cool air flowed in through the vents in the doors.

I followed on the controls throughout the take-off, and once we were safely routing to Muizenberg, I was allowed full control of the cyclic. Which was a weird and new sensation! The 22 is equipped with a ‘Teetering T-bar’, and the best way to describe that is: it’s a central control column, with another bar attached perpendicularly at the top, forming a ‘T’. That other bar can be moved up or down without having an effect on the rotor blades; it’s purely for pilot comfort (if you tilt it down, you can rest your hand on your leg).

In order to manipulate the blades, you need to move that bar left and right, or back and forth. But I kept accidentally moving it up and down instead of left and right. The trick, I discovered after a few minutes, was to just move your fingers, not your whole hand.

I managed to keep us straight and (almost) level, and attempted a few turns. They say that if you can fly an R22, you can fly anything. I found it much easier to fly than the Huey. But maybe that’s because I was shaking with excitement when I flew the Huey, and it possess a lot more inertia than the little R22.

Then I was given control of the collective, which was also a bit of a weird sensation, but easy enough to get used to. After playing around a bit, my instructor demonstrated an autorotation. It’s one thing experiencing weightlessness in a fixed wing, but it’s unpleasant in a helicopter...

However, being able to land on a patch of grass in the middle of nowhere was really cool! Well okay, we didn’t touch down; he flared just before the ground, brought us into the hover, and then climbed towards the sea and gave me control once again.

We routed along the coast for a couple of minutes and then returned to Cape Town. One thing I’ve always struggled with when flying helicopters in flightsim, is the approach and landing. Real life was no exception, and I wasn’t entirely sure of what to do. But that’s why I had an instructor!

We reached the ground without bumping into it, and proceeded to hover a bit. My instructor showed me what to do in order to hover, doing 360’s a couple of times to make sure no one was behind us (I think he was bored and wanted to have some fun and show off), and then ATC (air traffic control) got a bit annoyed because we didn’t state our intentions.

So we hover-taxi’d to the Base4 hangar and I was given the opportunity to try my hand at hovering. First I had to crab along to the little circle where we were to land, then pick a reference point, and make sure we didn’t drift left, right, backwards, forwards, up or down. And I managed to kind of keep us above the circle. My reference point was the corner of a bus, and the thoughts going through my head were “Small movements. Don’t over-correct. Don’t let the tail hit the ground. Don’t let the tail hit the ground!”

But there I was keeping a little helicopter almost-steady, for the very first time in my life. I was chuffed, and even my instructor said that that was good for someone that had never hovered before.

After we landed he showed me the toys in the Base4 hangar, and I met some other helicopter pilots and engaged in the usual fixed-wing/fling-wing banter. Needless to say they all felt sorry for the ‘poor fixed wing pilot’, and asked when I was going to start my helicopter training. I just laughed and asked them if they would sponsor me.

A very big thank you to Base4 for the opportunity! I never thought I’d climb into an R22 (I’m not fond of them), but it just goes to show that there’s a first time for everything.

Flying the Super Cub

2011-11-08T14:40:00.004+02:00

Ever heard of Kyle Franklin, aka Ben Whabnoski? C’mon, the dude with the drunk pilot routine... Go and paste the following link, or Google "Kyle Franklin, drunk pilot" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QESHF6bBk6E

After watching that video, I thought “Is it really possible for a Super Cub to do that?”
On the weekend, I got my answer.

I’ve had the opportunity to fly the Piper Super Cub twice, I’ve also flown the Piper Cub, and Tiger Moth, and out of those three, I liked the Tiger Moth the best. I think the Super Cub was my least favourite, and I never really appreciated it. Until last weekend when I did a conversion on to it.

It’s quite a big machine, roomy interior, 150hp engine up front, beautiful metal propeller, long sturdy legs (undercarriage), and big wings with big flaps. It’s a workhorse, and oh so lovely.

The first part of my conversion consisted of a history of the Piper Cub’s. Then identifying the differences between the Cub and Super Cub. And then a quick breakdown of the different models of Super Cubs. I was then given the Super Cub’s poh (pilot’s operating handbook), and told to study it.

Study what? It consisted of about 40 pages. Performance graphs? Who cares about take-off and landing distances? Weight and balance envelopes, what are those?! Google is normally my friend, but I still struggled to find more material on the aircraft. So I read what I had, and prayed I would remember all of it.

Not much later, the day came to fly it. The aircraft’s owner was my instructor, and he did what he does almost every time I fly with him; he said “I’m not here. Do what you think you’re supposed to do.” Now, I can’t describe how nervous I was about potentially breaking this man’s pride and joy.

Everything went fine until the run-ups. The mag-selector is old, and it’s difficult to feel the indents as you change mags. And sparky over here turned the handle just a bit too far, so instead of switching from the right mag to the left mag, I skipped left and went straight to OFF. While the engine was running at 1800rpm. The backfire scared the pants off of me, and I wished the earth would open up and swallow me.

That mistake meant I was kicking myself for the rest of the flight (circuits), which meant that I flew like an idiot. I was upset, I was angry, I was scared of the aircraft; I like to think that I’m relatively good at flying, but that day, I really screwed up.

But things changed with my second flight...

Before starting, I fiddled with the mag-selector and got a feel for it; I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice!

The plan: short-field take-offs, stop-and-go’s, upper air work, and circuits.

Now, when they say short-field take-off, they really do mean short. Full flap, full power, release brakes. All you have to do is keep it on the black; the plane will fly when it wants to fly (it normally leaves the ground 150-200ft or 45-60m from the starting point). And when it does fly, it climbs like a homesick angel.

The circuits were a mix of one notch of flaps, full flaps, wheelers and three-point landings. I found wheelers to be the easiest, whereas with the Cubby, it’s easier to do a three-pointer.

For the upper air work, we started with slow flight. Which progressed to slow flight with full flaps. Then stalls. Then steep turns with and without flaps. And we also did an incipient spin.

Because I was scared of the plane, my instructor showed me exactly what it could do... It’s more than happy to bumble along with full flaps, throttle about 1/4 open, and the speed below 40mph (the markings on the airspeed indicator stop at 40mph). It was so incredibly stable, even though there was a fair amount of turbulence; just try and maintain altitude, as soon as it nears the stall, lower the nose a bit. Rinse and repeat.

And stalling was a dream; not violent, little to no wing drop, and very easy and fast recovery with minimum height loss.

Then he had fun and did things like throwing it into a steep turn with the greatest of ease, forces sucking you into the (incredibly comfortable) seat. Climbing without a problem, letting it mush along with very little forward speed. And if he ever did something that the aircraft didn’t like; it would give him a warning before biting. Throughout all of this, I couldn’t stop laughing. I found the performance of this aircraft so amazing.

After that, we went back to Stellenbosch, and I was feeling good. I managed a simulated engine failure, and after landing my instructor told me to vacate the runway, which I found odd because he said we would do some more circuits. I thought it might be because my PTT (push to talk) had popped out and lodged itself between the floor and fuselage (so I couldn’t transmit on the radio). So imagine my surprise when I looked to my right and saw that my instructor had climbed out of the plane and was standing on the taxi-way.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ I thought to myself. ‘This is the second time an instructor has jumped out like that. The first time was when I was sent on my very first solo. Could that mean...’ My thoughts were interrupted by a “So, would you like to do some solo circuits?”

YES!

So with the PTT replaced, instructor walking back to the hangar, and with no one sitting behind me, I taxi’d to the holding point of runway 01 while telling myself “Don’t break the plane, don’t break the plane, this is amazing, don’t break the plane!”

I kept things simple and did what I knew best; a standard flapless take-off (which was almost as short as the short-field take-off), a three-point landing with full flaps. A wheeler with one notch of flaps. And then another wheeler, also with one notch of flaps (I was going to do a flapless, but I forgot the approach speed...)

It’s true what they say; “The Piper Cub is the safest airplane in the world. It can just barely kill you.” - Max Stanley. It’s so stable, and so responsive, and if you fly the speeds and respect the plane and listen to it when it starts getting unhappy, you’ll be amazed at what you can do (I’d love to try the trick where they land on the left wheel, then change to the right, then left again :) )

There are very few things that are as satisfying as the bump and squeak of the main gear coming into contact with the runway, followed by the frantic pushing of rudder medals to keep the nose pointing in one direction, the speed decreasing, the tail slowly dropping, and the little bounce as the tail wheel settles on the ground.

Western Cape Regional Aerobatic Competition

2011-11-04T20:58:00.000+02:00

On 29 October 2011, Saldanha Airfield played host to the WC Regional Aerobatic Competition. Thanks to the hard work of Stuart Saward, the Sport Aerobatic Club of SA, Audi Centre Cape Town (who sponsored the event), the competitors, and the fans and wannabe competitiors, the event was a huge success!

Things kicked off around 10am, and only started to wind down as the sun began to sink below the horizon. The competitors put both themselves and their aircraft through their places in a bid to be the best.

A number of aircraft flew in on the day to support the event. Competitors included locals, amateurs, as well as some big names in aerobatics, and seeing each of them graciously take to the sky in their high-performance machines was amazing! A first in SA was a member of the military taking part in a civilian competition... and not only that, but he also competed in the turbine PC-7.

Because it wasn't an airshow, spectators were allowed the freedom to walk right up to the aircraft, and chat to the pilots. Two Silver Falcons aircraft were parked amongst all the GA aircraft. It was the first time I got to see the PC-7's up close, touch them, and be invited to stand on the wing and take a look at the cockpit.

I also got to meet 4 of the 5 Silver Falcons team members. The icing on the cake was Mark Hensman's display in the highly-manoeuvrable MX-2 once the competition had ended. Mark's routine had us jumping for joy, gasping in surprise, and diving for cover. I don't think I've ever seen an aircraft fly quite like that.

Long story short, it was a GREAT weekend!

Life... is the Pitts

2011-10-26T15:18:00.001+02:00

I know I’ve been quite quiet. Things have been busy, what with preparing briefings for my instructor’s rating and procrastinating.

Yesterday (Tuesday), I was at the airfield debating whether or not I should go fly, when I had the opportunity to see 3 professional aerobatic pilots run through their formation routine during a briefing, and I also got to see and chat to two pilots of the South African Air Force.

But the best was having the opportunity to take the following photos, and realising that its days like those that I live for.

Yup, life really is the Pitts... x3! ;)

The Art of Teaching

2011-10-14T15:22:00.001+02:00

After passing the instructor's ratings exams, I hit the briefings. On average, someone wanting to be an instructor will complete about 40hrs of briefings before qualifying. Doesn't seem like too much, right?

But what people don't realise is the amount of time and effort that goes into those briefings. One briefing can take between 5 and 15hrs to prepare. And then it still has to be presented, refined, and sometimes, completely reworked.

But that's still not bad. No, the really tricky bit is making the transition to 'teacher mode'. What's also difficult is trying to pretend that your instructor (the person you're presenting the briefing to) is someone that know's nothing about flying.

It's all good and well throwing a briefing together and going over it a few times in front of your mirror or dog, but standing in front of a room with a whiteboard marker in your hand while trying to explain the Principles of Flight in the most simple manner while still trying to convey all the important info is no easy task.

It doesn't help that one of the important things is to be able to take a flying scenario, and compare it to some normal, everyday scenario, otherwise your student will sit there with his/her eyes glazed over and mouth hanging open. Unfortunately I lack both life experience and imagination, so sometimes I really struggle to come up with examples.

If I'm honest, I'm enjoying myself. I've only presented two topics (Aircraft Systems and Principles of Flight. Presented both of them twice), one of which I decided to completely redo (Principles of Flight has always managed to catch me out, and it looks like it will continue to do so). It's tough, but I enjoy the challenge.

Sling Around The World

2011-09-25T12:27:00.000+02:00

The South African designed and built 4-seater Sling aircraft, manufactured by ‘The Airplane Factory’, caused a stir when the manufacturers decided to fly it around the world. Pilots Mike and Jean departed Johannesburg on 7 August 2011, and so began their epic journey.

They completed 20 legs, some exceeding 18hrs of flying, and they had the opportunity to travel to 14 different countries. Some 47 days after leaving South Africa and travelling in an easterly direction around the earth, they returned home after a gruelling 27 hour leg from Rio de Janeiro (Brazil), to Cape Town (South Africa) on 23 September 2011.

After clearing customs at Cape Town International, they made the short flight to Stellenbosch Airfield where friends and aviation enthusiasts gathered to welcome them home.

For the first time in a while, the Stellenbosch Flying Club was buzzing with people. It was cool seeing a few aircraft fly in, as well as seeing random members of the public pitching up to see the Sling arrive.

http://www.airplane-pictures.net/news.php?p=1049

Instructor's Rating Exam 2 of 2

2011-09-10T20:55:00.000+02:00

Another one down, another one done, another one bites the dust!

Friday was the day... Applied Navigation and Meteorology was waiting for me, and after taking in the wonderful smell of fresh coffee coming from the kitchen in the Heli building, I walked into that exam room thinking "If I don't pass this, it's my own fault; I should've put more effort in."

Well, I passed it. There were 50 questions, most of which were on Meteorology. There were also a couple of Flight Planning ones (take-off distances etc). The Met questions were the usual tricky ones that are so vague the answer could be anything. Eish.

During my PPL, Principles of Flight and Air Law were my worst exams. During my CPL Nav, Met and Air Law were my worst exams. And now I've gone and written combinations of those exams and passed first time. It feels good!

Hey-yo, it's off to prepare briefings I go!

Maun, Botswana

2011-09-05T21:07:00.027+02:00

Thursday 1 September – Friday 2 September

I’ve wanted to go to Maun for months having never been there before, but getting there would be a problem; flights are in excess of R3500, and driving wouldn’t be much cheaper. I tried to save as much money as possible, but I was struggling. But then things changed.

A charter came up, and there was an open seat. When I first heard about it, I refused to get my hopes up; we first had to make sure that I would be able to go with, and flights like these often get cancelled at the last minute. A few days before the flight we (my dad, who would be flying, and I) received confirmation that the flight was still on, and that I was going with, but it was only the day before the flight that I started getting excited.

Waiting for a 737 to take off at Cape Town

We would only be in Maun for one night, so all that was required was a change of clothes. Which is probably a good thing; we wanted to keep the weight down so that we could carry enough fuel to make the trip in one (3 hour) leg.

We took off from Cape Town on (a somewhat chilly and cloudy) Thursday morning. It wasn’t long before the lush green mountains of the Western Cape gave way to harsher, drier terrain. The landscape became flatter and flatter, and every time I looked out the window, it had changed.

Sand as far as the eye can see

Rocky. Dunes. Almost completely flat with salt pans. The Orange River. Sand with some bushes. Sand with some grass. A bit of water here and there. And then... Maun. After over 2 hours of looking at sand, I saw the Thamalakane River, and after searching a bit, I realised that the dry, barren area I was looking at is Maun.

Welcome to Maun

I knew it would be dry, but I didn’t realise how much of a desert it is; one only really sees the photos of the lush green Delta. We were instructed to join on right base for runway 08. We found the ATC’s (air traffic controllers) in Botswana to be very good, once you figure out what they’re saying; they talk really fast.

Maun International is expanding, and they’re in the process of building a new runway. The ramp was packed with C206’s, C208’s, C207’s, Airvans, ATR’s, and even a DC-3. Here’s this little airport buzzing with arrivals and departures (it’s much busier than Cape Town), and it’s in the middle of nowhere. Weird.

Apart from the sand, the other thing I noticed once we landed was how hot it is (the heat hit us as soon as we descended to join for landing). It was probably around 30degC, and that’s quite normal for winter! From chilly 18deg weather in beautiful green Cape Town, to this... that’s not what I saw in the photos!

But I soon forgot about the heat and instead focused on the arrivals and departures. At least 5 Caravans departed in the space of 5 minutes. I’ve never seen so many Caravans in one place before!

After tucking the plane in for the night we cleared customs and immigration (which was a lot less painful than in Cape Town). There were several reasons why I went on this trip, 1.) To gain experience on the Cessna Mustang, 2.) To complete my first international flight, 3.) To see what Maun is like, 4.) Do look (beg) for work.

So after finding out where the offices of the various charter companies are, I set out with a stack of CV’s, a smile on my face, and what was once a very nice, crisp, clean shirt, which after a 3hr flight and about 45minutes on the ground in Maun, was now crinkled and sweaty.

There are 7 charter companies in Maun; Wilderness Air, Safari Air, Mack Air, Kavango Air, Moremi Air, Delta Air, and Major Blue Air (the new kids on the block). Their offices are located within 400m of each other, which is rather convenient when you’re running up and down between them (most of the chief pilot’s were out to lunch, so I had to keep going back and forth between the companies in the hopes that I might catch them before they go fly).

These guys are used to low-time pilots asking for work, so I’m sure they weren’t surprised to see me (but I think I stood out in my white shirt and black pants with smart shoes; everyone wears shorts and plakkies around there).

For those of you that are hoping to find work there, here’s what I was told:
Botswana isn’t issuing work permits. There are a number of locals that are looking for flying jobs, so the rest of us must wait. Hopefully things will come right in the next few months.

Working conditions can be tough. Most companies require a minimum of 250hrs, but 500hrs is preferable (obviously), and they also don’t want people that are too young or too old.

An Instructor’s Rating and experience as an Instructor might give you an advantage.

“We aren’t hiring now, try in December.”

So it’s looking quite bleak, but at least I’ve met the chief pilots (all of which are very friendly and helpful) and they’ve seen me. Now it’s a case of bugging them with updated CV’s. Bring it on!

It was after 5pm when we left the airport and made our way to where we would be staying. Maun is very much like Oranjemund, only bigger and they have a Nando's and Wimpy. The streets are lined with sand, the buildings are small and weathered, and the people are friendly. I imagine that life in Maun is very simple.

There are more donkeys roaming the streets than there are dogs. Grass is almost non-existent, and when you do find some, it’s yellow and straw-like. But the river banks are flooded; fences and signs are almost completely underwater. It’s quite a stark contrast.

Another thing I’m not used to are the driver’s; while there are plenty of taxi’s just like in Cape Town, everyone drives at about 60km/h, and the taxi drivers drive the slowest. At first I thought it might be due to the lack of streetlights, but they drive like that during the day too. Go figure. Botswana has very little tolerance for crime, and there are posters everywhere that remind you of that little fact.

We were staying at the hotel section of the Maun Lodge, which is right next to the Thamalakane River. It’s a 3-star hotel, and while my room had a boring view of the road, all I had to do was walk down the hall to get a view of the river.

Maun Lodge

After a quick look around and a change of clothes, we drove to the Island Safari Lodge, which is a couple of kilometres from the centre of Maun. On the way there the sun started to set, and it was amazing; as it gets lower on the horizon the layer of sand and dust give it a brilliant red/orange glow.

What all the roads used to be like

The Island Safari Lodge has been around for over twenty years, and it’s gorgeous. The river is calm and the only sounds are those of the birds and monkeys (I think. They looked monkey-ish) and the bugs. I could’ve sat by the river bank all night, but when the mozzies came out and my stomach started to grumble, we decided to head back to the hotel.

There are two restaurants at the Maun Lodge, but it seemed that the one was more suited to conferences, and as it was completely empty, we opted to go to The Boma instead.

“Boma” means enclosure, and this is exactly what this was. Surrounded by a wall of thin pieces of wood, tables were located around the edges under a large thatched roof, with a large open sand area with some trees and a roaring fire in the middle.

Dinner was a buffet with all the usual stuff (salads, potatoes, veggies, rice), but it also had some other things like Mexican salad (I still don’t know what meat was in there. I hope it wasn’t something really exotic like donkey...) pap and goat stew. There was also stir-fry, and what was really cool about that was that you could decide what you wanted, and then the chef would cook it for you right then and there. As for dessert; there was chocolate cake, cheese cake, and fruit salad. I helped myself to both the chocolate and cheese cake. Everything was delicious and the staff were very friendly and helpful.

By about 8pm the temperature had cooled to somewhere in the low 20ies, and the live music that ranged from Afrikaans songs to African songs to some other stuff I couldn’t identify, and the roaring fire made for a very relaxed atmosphere.

On Friday morning I woke up at 0545, and when I looked out the window the sky was light. It was chilly, but thankfully it was nothing like the icy chill we get in the Cape. We were at the airport by 7am, and we set about getting the plane ready for the flight back to Cape Town.

Sunrise

There would be 3 other people on the return flight, so the weight had to be calculated carefully. We wouldn’t be able to take enough fuel to get us to Cape Town, so we would stop in Upington to refuel.

To give you an idea of how busy it is in Maun; we had to wait about 15minutes for the arrivals and departures before we were cleared to take-off. And this was at 8am. With three aircraft on Final, one vacating the runway and one lining up for take-off, it seemed a little bit like Heathrow.

Unfortunately we didn’t have time to fly over the Delta, so after taking off from runway 08, we turned right over the town and routed directly to Upington. Farewell Maun.

The flight was rather boring, and I alternated between looking out of the window, trying to understand the Garmin 1000 system, and trying to understand the Controller’s (I think the Garmin was easier to understand).

After almost an hour and a half we crossed the border and were back in South Africa. I’d never been to Upington before, but it’s much like Maun and Oranjemund; located near a river, dry, and desolate. The airport was quite nice; there were a few aircraft that were in storage, one or two light aircraft, and two scheduled flights (Air Link) arrived shortly after we did.

South Africa/Botswana border

The terminal is very smart and modern. Clearing customs was a breeze (we were the only ones there), and we had a bite to eat while waiting for the fuel guys to finish with the scheduled flights. For those of you that don’t know; Upington has one of the longest runways in the world.

Upington

Fed and watered, it was back into the Mustang for the last leg; another 1.5hrs of almost-complete boredom. But at least the view from FL320 is quite good.

Once again, the scenery changed every time I looked out of the window, but this time it went from flat, to hills, to mountains, to green, to green mountains. We passed overhead the Tankwa River, near Clanwilliam. The last time I was here it was in the Cubby, and I was bumbling along at FL065.

Tankwa River

Cape Town was cloudy and rainy, with strong winds. As soon as I got out of the aircraft I wished I was back in Maun with the sound of Caravans buzzing around, the friendly people, the warm weather, and the simplicity of the place.

Island Safari Lodge

Instructor's Rating Exam 1 of 2

2011-08-30T12:35:00.002+02:00

About 2 days after I passed my CPL Flight Test, I realised how bored I was; there was nothing for me to study. For the last 8 months or so, I've done some form of studying almost every day. And now, nothing...

So while completing the somewhat tedious task of preparing a CV and contacting various charter companies in Botswana, I also started studying for my Instructor's Rating.

There are 5 subjects, and two exams. Principles of Flight, Law, Flight training, and Applied Navigation & Meteorology.

Not knowing what to expect, I spoke to some Instructor's and they said that the exams are easier than the PPL exams. Well ladies and gents, they're about the same as the PPL exams.

Do yourself a favour and go to the CAA website and download the list that says what you must study for each subject. Just be warned, they don't mention anything about Flight Planning, but I was asked two questions on it (had to use loading graphs).

I wrote the exam at Heli, and I upon walking into the office I was met with friendly, professional people (and the smell of filter coffee, yum). While filling in the paperwork, I realised I had forgotten my pencil case at home... No pencil, no eraser, no calculator.

So I panicked a little bit, but I decided that I wouldn't need that stuff. That is, until I sat down and they presented me with the Flight Planning graph book. Oops. Luckily I got hold of a calculator.

All-in-all, it went alright. Law and PoF aren't my strong subjects. But then again, neither are Nav and Met. Oh well, I'll worry about those next week!

Com + IF Flight Test 'Tips'

2011-08-13T23:22:00.001+02:00

I thought I’d try giving some helpful information regarding the Com and IF Flight Tests, having just completed them and all that. I’m by no means an expert, but perhaps sharing my experience will help those of you that are nervous or unsure about the test.

First things first, go to the CAA website and download the testing forms, as well as the Recommended Ground Evaluation for the Instrument Flight Test. While you’re at it, download the form for the Application of a Rating or License. I’d do all of this at least 5 days before you test.

There isn’t a recommended ground evaluation form for the Com test, but it’s quite similar to the PPL ground evaluation, so if you’re really worried, just download the PPL one and go through that (CATs, CARs, AIPs, AICs, NOTAMS, TAFs, METARS, etc).

The testing forms outline all the exercises you are expected to do, so go through them and check to see if you’re unfamiliar with any of them. If you are, now’s your chance to ask your instructor for some help.

Phone/meet with the Examiner several days before the date of your test and discuss what you will be expected to do so that you can fully prepare (ie you need to do a nav). Get all the planning done a couple of days before you test (nav logs, weight and balance, make sure you have the correct testing forms, etc)

On the day of your test you want to look neat and professional. So dress smartly. And have all your notes and papers neatly in a flip file or something. If you don’t have access to the Aerad or Jeppesen Plates, go to the CAA website and print the plates you’ll need. And don’t assume that you will only need one plate; print the whole lot for wherever you’re flying in case there’s a runway change, or a facility goes offline and you suddenly have to use the NDB instead of the VOR.

Arrive early. Pre-flight and make sure the aircraft is clean. Phone ATC and make sure they have your flight plan. Ask for a Squawk code and the runway in use, and also make sure that they will be able to accommodate you. Don’t rush anything; it’s your day.

Every Examiner is different; some are very strict and uptight, others a bit more ‘laid back’. Some might want to do the ground evaluation before the flight, others might do it the other way around. Just remember to breath and stay calm!

I did the ground evaluation first, and I let the nerves get to me, so I made stupid mistakes. The main focus was on AWOPs, and here are some of the questions I was asked:
-Definition of a CAT I approach
-Difference between MDA and DA
-What is an Approach Ban?
-When do you need destination alternates?
-Comms failures when you are no longer following a SID/STAR. When are you allowed to begin the descent for your destination?
-LVP's; low visibilty procedures, when do they come into play, and what do they mean?
-Read a TAF
-Converting RVR to Vis; where do you find the conversion? When may you use the conversion?

Chances are the examiner will flick through a book (most likely the Handbook for Commercial and Airline Pilots) and ask you random questions regarding the information in there. So study that book! And if you aren’t sure about something, you’ll probably be allowed to look it up, but; make sure you know where to look for it.

Ground evaluation done, now for the fun part!
Talk. Tell the Examiner what you’re thinking, what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Ask if they want to be treated as a “standard” passenger, ie someone that doesn’t fly often. Chances are the Examiner will be tired of hearing all the safety stuff, but they might just decide to throw a curveball. So have a quick “Don’t touch this, this or that, don’t open the window in flight, don’t open the door and slam it against the strut, etc” briefing ready. Just in case.

For the pre-flight, it apparently looks good if you use a checklist. I don’t normally use a physical checklist, so it was a bit weird for me. But all I need was use my mental checklist, and then CHECK that I had done everything using the piece of paper strapped to my leg.

The checklist should only be used while on the ground. If you need the thing in order to remember your after-take-off checks then you might have a bit of a problem.

Remember to take your time and try to relax. No one has failed a flight test because they paid too much attention to detail.

The flight is no different to any other flight. The rules and safety standards stay the same. Just remember that when the Examiner says “Fly heading 070 and maintain 3500” it doesn’t mean ‘fly heading 072 and maintain 3460ft’. If you start drifting/climbing/descending correct for it immediately. Heck, every time I started drifting or climbing or descending I would say so out loud.

When it comes to the instrument flying, just remember to keep the instrument scan going. Always ask “All clear?” or “Clear left/right/above/below” when you turn onto a new heading or are told to climb/descend. The chances of the Examiner making you turn into a mountain are slim, but you confirming that it’s safe to turn shows good airmanship.

Another important thing; do NOT bust the minima’s on the plates! Rather level off a little bit higher (no more than 50ft) than descend below the MDA/DA. For the holds and instrument approaches, I was taught two things in order to remember when to do what.

The first is when you are about 10nm from the facility: FAT-PC
F – FREDAS checks
A – Altitude (above MSA? Correct altitude for the hold/procedure turn?)
T – Tune, Identify, Test (check the com and nav frequencies. Test the VOR and ADF)
P – Plate Briefing (double check the altitude and frequencies, determine what entry you will be doing)
C – Clearance (Are you cleared for the hold? Approach?)

Then, once overhead the facility for the hold/procedure turn approach/etc:
Turn – comply with the entry/procedure turn/etc
Time – if you need to time a leg
Twist – the VOR and DI
Talk – tell ATC that you’re overhead the beacon

When flying the approach don’t forget the callouts (1000ft to DA, 500ft to DA, 100ft to DA) and the spot height checks.

Talk. Talk. Talk. I say again, TALK!
Think out loud. Do your checks out loud. Voice your concerns out loud. Make sure that the Examiner knows that you are constantly evaluating the situation and that you have a plan. If you are unsure about something; ASK! If you get too overwhelmed and find yourself trying to fly a plate and talk to ATC and adjust instruments and settings, then tell the Examiner, say “I’m sorry, could you please do the radio work for a minute while I sort myself out.” Because if you don’t, you’ll just continue to be overwhelmed and will most likely completely mess up.

Remember those things and you should be fine. 

As for the upper air work, it’s just like the PPL, except some of it will be done ‘under the hood’ and you might be given more limited panel scenarios. Keep the ball in the middle. Make sure all control and power/pitch/mixture adjustments are done smoothly. If you aren’t happy with the way you did a particular manoeuvre, ask if you can do it again.

If you complete a manoeuvre and the Examiner asks why you did it a certain way, say that was how you were taught and ask about other ways of doing it. If you ever make a mistake, admit it. You might just get some helpful advice on how not to make that mistake again.

When the nerves come along and you start wondering if you’re ready, remember that your instructor won’t let you test if he/she doesn’t think you’ll pass. If you start getting worked up while flying, take a couple of deep breaths, and when all else fails, just remember to fly the plane!

Good luck!

From Cubby to Cutlass to Commercial Pilot

2011-08-12T22:21:00.012+02:00

27 August 2009, I successfully completed my first ever solo.
24 December 2009, I passed my Private Pilot’s License flight test.
End of 2010, I completed Matric.
3 May 2011, I passed my Night Rating test.
10 August 2011, I passed my Commercial Pilot’s License and Instrument Rating flight tests.

When I was busy with my PPL, I considered giving up a number of times. But I pressed on, and now, less than two years since my first solo, I’ve earned the right to call myself a Commercial Pilot. While I had done all my training at Stellenbosch Flying Club, I found myself making my way to Mossel Bay to finish up my training (another 10hrs of instrument flying) and test.

Wednesday, 3 August, Day 1:

Stellenbosch to Mossel Bay.

The last time I did this flight, I arrived after one fuel stop at Riversdale, and over 4 hours in that cramped, uncomfortable cockpit. However, the weather was kind to me this time, and I had a 20kt tailwind for most of the trip.

While sitting at F055 provided a great view of the green fields, dotted with yellow patches, the flight was rather boring and uneventful. Arriving at Mossel Bay was much more exciting.

The main (tar) runway is 09/27. The wind was north easterly, so on final approach, I found myself looking out the left hand side window, instead of the front; I was heading 300 in order to remain on the approach for runway 27. The uneven runway caught me, and I ended up flaring far too high. But I planted her firmly on the ground and I didn’t break anything.

Another 2.4hrs of x-country time in the bag : )

Cutlass re-familiarisation.

After extracting all my bags from the Cubby, she was tucked in for the next few days, and the Cutlass was pulled out. It was over 25degrees and I was dressed for 15degree weather, so it wasn’t long before I was melting. After a quick reminder on the differences between a regular 172 and the 172RG, it was time to kick the tyres and light the fires.

First things first, take-off in simulated hot and high conditions. I wasn’t allowed to use more than 22inches of manifold pressure (normal is 25-27inches). The ground roll was probably close to double the normal distance (+-320m), and after many hops we finally got airborne, and after keeping the nose very low in order for the speed to come up, I felt safe enough to commence a very gradual climb. I don’t want to experience that again.

Once airborne and in the cruise, I was reminded of just how heavy the controls are, and my turns were less than satisfactory. Today’s flight was simply basic upper air work so that I could get the feel of the Cutlass. But we also did some 60deg angle of bank turns, something I’ve never done before (I think I did something similar in an RV8, but that’s aerobatic and vastly different).

After that it was time for a simulated forced landing and some circuits. I had to be talked through most of the procedures, and I was still nervous about doing something wrong. But I was semi-relaxed.

After we shut down I realised how incredibly tired I was; it felt like I’d flown a long aerobatic sortie.
Then it was time to pack up, have something to eat, write a technical exam on the Cutlass, and then study the manual some more and go over Instrument procedures.

Thursday, 4 August, Day 2:

Time for another sortie in the Cutlass. This time precautionary landings, one in some random field (we didn’t actually land, of course), the other at a grass strip with one heck of a slope. Landing there was fun. Taking off was even more fun; the ground quite literally falls away.

On the way back I was given a simulated (up) elevator failure. This meant I had to make use of power and trim in order to climb. I think I did well until we were on final approach; the key is to give it a lot of nose up trim so that you need to use quite a bit of pushing force on the yoke to point the nose down/level. I didn’t trim it enough, and I had to use elevator in the flare at the last minute. But had that been a real failure, I think I could’ve landed without too much of a crunch.

After that it was back to Mossel Bay town where I was staying for a bit of a rest.

That afternoon I went on another sortie, this time with a GrII Instructor (I’d been flying with a GrIII so far), to finish up the conversion. The before-start checklist took several minutes longer than usual as we went over every little thing, and I learnt some new things (like actually seeing what happens when you select the alternative static source).

After that it was all the usual stuff, and I found myself remembering little things like opening and closing the cowl flaps. I was also more confident when it came to adjusting the pitch and mixture (both are extremely sensitive).

We headed to the GFA and did some incipient spins. I’ve done spins twice; once in a 152 many years ago, and once in an RV8. So it’s safe to say that it was new and unfamiliar to me. I then went ‘under the hood’ (Foggles), and did some stalls. Followed by more incipient spins. And then the entry into a spiral dive. The dive was scary to say the least; you’re sucked into the seat, you can hear the wind rushing outside, and the engine almost screaming. It’s disorientating and it took longer than I wanted before I managed to recover.

Then it was time for some mild stuff; Rate 1 turns. I managed to confuse myself and I said it takes 1 minute to turn 360 degrees. I was thinking of holding patterns; you do Rate 1 turns, but you reverse direction (180 degrees). Once I got my mind sorted out we did a couple of those, and then routed back to Mossel Bay by intercepting a radial from GRV (the VOR at George).

We were joining overhead when I was given a simulated engine fire. For once I managed to sort of think of things logically and in a timely fashion, but that wasn’t good enough, and I asked to be talked through the procedures. Which are actually very simple; get rid of the source of fuel, and LAND!

Which I did. I carried out all the checks, despite the fact that I was on final with the gear and flaps still up. The nice thing about the Cutlass is that you can throw those out even if you’re travelling at 130kts (or 110kts for the first notch of flaps). We landed and I thought that was it, but no, it’s a touch-and-go. We were probably ¾ of the way down the runway by the time we took power. Another thing that isn’t pleasant.

After that, a short-field landing, which was alright, I just flared too high, and then failed to keep the nose up.

Things are done a bit differently here; it’s more relaxed, and there aren’t noise abatement procedures, so if you want to do minimum-radius turns while on downwind, you can. And that’s exactly what we did. Basically, you use them to reverse direction in confined spaces, and what you do is; apply a lot of power (full power), enter a 60 degree angle of bank turn, and pull back hard on the yoke so that you don’t lose any height.

I’m happy that I felt more confident and at ease with the plane, but I know I could’ve done better.

Now, time to worry about the Com and IF tests...

Friday, 5 August, Day 3:

The cold front has arrived. When I woke up and heard the rain and wind, I rolled over and went back to sleep. I think I managed to haul myself out of bed around 10am. I definitely wouldn’t get to fly for a couple of hours, but there was the possibility that it would clear up in the afternoon.

So I started studying. George airspace, frequencies, the exercises I’d need to do in the test, going over air law (turns out I didn’t go over it enough). By the afternoon the rain had stopped and the cloud appeared to be lifting. Just as I was getting ready to head to the airfield the rain started once again.

Back to the books...

Saturday, 6 August, Day 4:

I managed to get out of bed before 0730, amazing! The sun was shining, the air was crisp and clear, and the plan was to fly to Riversdale for breakfast. A couple of planes flew to Mossel Bay, and we left together from there. We were two Cubby’s, three Piper Colt’s, a Piper Cruiser, a Pietenpol, and a Kit Fox. It was awesome!

The air was smooth and cold, so the Cubby performed very well. At one stage I was almost surrounded by Piper’s; one on either side and one behind me. Radio chatter was frequent and light-hearted, and I realised once again how different flying here seems to be (while everything is done safely and properly, it feels like there aren’t any rules or limits).

Once on the ground at Riversdale, it was a short (less than 5minute) walk to the restaurant where we enjoyed a traditional breakfast and the usual banter between pilots. I think we overwhelmed the staff :P Fed and watered, it was time to go back to Mossel Bay for an afternoon sortie in the Cutlass.

I flew with a different instructor, and I realised that while stressed, I had managed to relax a little bit. We routed to Oudtshoorn where we did a “Breakcloud” procedure, something I’ve never done before. We landed and admired the view; the top half of the mountains were white with snow, and the bottom brown. Unfortunately I didn’t take a camera with.

After a stretch of the legs and a quick briefing, it was off to George to try an ILS or two. I feel I did okay, but there is plenty of room for improvement! The Cutlass cockpit layout is slightly different to the 172 I’ve been flying; there’s no heading bug on the DI, and a GPS needs to be used to record distance (it isn’t equipped with DME).

All that means is a bit more work and stretching around the cockpit. During one of the ILS’s I extended the gear and the green light that indicates that the gear is down and locked failed to illuminate. After recycling the gear, it still wouldn’t light up. We suspected that we were going a bit too fast so the nose wheel didn’t lock.

In the 30 seconds it took for us to sort out the problem, I managed to drift about 10degrees off course, and climb. It doesn’t take long for things to go wrong. After that it was back to Mossel Bay, which was rather uneventful.

With 3 days left to sort out my flying, I was feeling quite nervous. I had the gist of things, but that just isn’t enough...

Sunday, 7 August, Day 5:

If I’m honest, I can’t actually remember what I did. I didn’t fly though. Hmmm... I think that was when I got hold of the recommended Ground Evaluation for the Instrument Rating. Scary stuff!

Monday, 8 August, Day 6:

Another beautiful day, and another flight in the Cutlass. We didn’t have a transponder so we couldn’t go to George and practice ILS’s, which meant another trip to Oudtshoorn to practice the Breakcloud. My instructor was still helping me set everything up, but I flew the plate well.

The owner of the Cutlass arrived with a transponder soon after we got back, so he went for a quick test flight. Success!

That afternoon the other instructor and I flew and we went over all the basic general stuff once again. I also did a simulated IMC departure which involved me trying my best to maintain the runway heading using the DI (Direction Indicator), and him telling me when to use some rudder. It was quite the experience!

Tuesday, 9 August, Day 7:

Tomorrow is D-Day...
Another hour and a bit was spent doing basic manoeuvres. We didn’t go to George because there were no more slots available. Why they need slots for training flights is beyond me, but anyway.

After that flight I was 1.8hrs short. The minimum requirements for an Instrument Rating are 40hrs IF, of which 20hrs may be in an approved simulator. I was sitting at 19.7hrs sim, and 18.2 actual. And I was testing tomorrow. Yikes!

Wednesday, 10 August, Day 8:

The day dawned sunny and warm. I dressed in my smart black pants and white pilot’s shirt, and I made sure that I looked professional.
My pre-flight was slow and meticulous, and helped keep the nerves at bay. I washed the windows and made sure there wasn’t any oil on the cowling and struts.

Because I was still short on hours, I had one more training flight before my test. Here we went through steep turns, Rate 1 turns, climbing and descending turns. Everything was absolutely perfect.

When we landed the examiner was already there, and up until now my nerves had barely shown themselves. But then I started losing it. The thing I feared most was the ground evaluation, and it showed; my answers were less than satisfactory. I knew the work, but I rushed through things instead of just taking a deep breath and thinking about things.

But I once I climbed into the plane I forced myself to calm down, and I fell into the routine of the pre-start, start, and after-start procedures.

The weather was excellent, and after take-off we routed to Oudtshoorn. Once we crossed the mountains I donned the Foggles. This was the first time I did everything by myself, and I was pleased that I remembered everything. I flew the Cloudbreak well, and I didn’t bust any minimums (I often reacted too late when levelling off after a descent and would descend +-50ft lower than what is allowed).

Procedure done, we routed to Plett. By now I had really started getting to know the Cutlass; there was a lag when reducing the manifold pressure, so it has to be done carefully in order to prevent going from 27inches to 22 inches. Adjusting the pitch from climb (fine) to cruise (coarse) takes about one and a half turns, and the mixture about two and a half.

The controls no longer felt heavy, instead they were responsive; a gentle push or pull was all that was needed to make the plane do what you wanted.

We were running a bit behind, so the examiner gave me headings to steer to Knysna. Once there I contacted George for radar vectors for the ILS Rwy 11. Not only did I copy information down and read everything back correctly, but I did it without getting flustered.

The ILS itself went well, and I remembered to check the spot heights, as well as the callouts (1000ft to Decision, 500ft to Decision, 100ft to Decision). I did however lose the plot a bit at the end when I momentarily forgot to check the needles.

ILS done, it was to the GFA for the upper air work, which was dead simple. And then back to Mossel Bay for a precautionary landing, a short-field landing, a short-field take-off, and a flapless landing. The flapless landing was the best, and I touched down smoothly.

And that was it. Test done, just like that. My PPL test was more stressful than that!

Thursday, August 11, Day 9:

I’m a Commercial Pilot... and I’m going home. The Cubby was fuelled and packed, and the sky was relatively clear. I bade farewell to Mossel Bay, dodged some cloud near Riversdale, spotted a number of nice little dirt strips between Swellendam and Riviersonderend, spotted a very nice strip not far from Caledon, and encountered a 30kt headwind just before reaching Franschhoek Pass.

I had had a headwind all the way back, but it wasn’t too bad. At Theewaterskloof however, things go very interesting. As I approached the Franschhoek Pass at about 5500ft I encountered downdraughts that had me descending at 1000fpm, and nothing I did slowed that rate of descent. So I turned around and slowly started climbing. And climbing. And climbing. And then I turned back to the pass and continued climbing. And climbing. And climbing. At full power and a very high nose attitude, I was gaining 200fpm, and I had a groundspeed of 35kts.

When I finally got to the Pass I was glad I made the decision to climb as high as I did, because the downdraughts were rather persistent. I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of turbulence on the other side of the pass, and I made my way to Helshoogte with a lovely 15kt tailwind. It was overcast almost everywhere, except Franschhoek and Stellenbosch (Thank you!)

I was back in familiar territory, the familiar circuit, the familiar feeling of gentle touching down on the down-sloping Rwy01. I was home.

______________________________________

I’ve had my ups and downs. There were days when I flew like a complete idiot, and days that went off without a hitch. Thank you to the Instructors of Stellenbosch Flying Club, and Springbok Aviation Academy. Thank you also to my friends and family.

Another test passed, another step forward. Now begins a new chapter; the hunt for work.

Solo Night Nav

2011-07-25T13:22:00.004+02:00

One of the requirements for a CPL is 5hrs solo night flying. Included in that must be a night x-country of at least 150nm. So it’s quite similar to getting a night rating, the only difference being that you must fly solo.

I had hoped to do this nav last week when we had a full moon, but unfortunately I discovered that one of the aircraft’s nav lights wasn’t working, and I had to cancel the flight. I wasn’t too impressed because it was a perfect evening.

But then I had the bright idea of doing the nav on Saturday morning, at about 5am. This meant waking up at 0330. I’m not a morning person, but all I can say is that the early wake up was worth it! At about 0330 I got up and called the weather office. I tried my best to sound awake, but I don’t think it worked. There wasn’t any fog or clouds, but the wind was strong; 160 degrees, 15kts gusting 35kts.

It was dark, and while the wind was blowing in Cape Town, the airfield was still, calm and quiet. Until I fired up POV, a trusty 152. Taking off into the night sky was wonderful, and I turned west to route to Cape Town. This was the first time I’d be flying in controlled airspace by myself, and I was nervous.

But I picked the right time to fly, and soon after making contact I was “Cleared left base runway 19. You’re number one.” I somehow managed to remember my squawk code and I got my read backs correct. Seeing the array of lights at Cape Town is always amazing, but it can also be confusing (last time I flew there at night I thought I was aiming for the runway, but it was actually a fence with lights on), but I got it right this time, and I enjoyed having PAPI’s.

After my touch-and-go I was told to route to the old cooling towers (which no longer exist). I wasn’t entirely sure where they were, so I just followed the N2. Once I thought I was near where the towers used to be, I routed north. The Controller jokingly said “Wow, I’ve never seen a 152 go that fast before!” I couldn’t help but laugh. (I had about a 30kt tailwind)

I was told to broadcast TIBA and continue on my merry way. Flying around Cape Town is extremely pleasant when it’s quiet, and I’ve found that the controllers have been very accommodating.

After that I routed to Saldanha. It was turbulent around Table View, but once I passed Atlantis it was smooth sailing. There was only a light breeze at Saldanha. I flew directly overhead the field without realising it. I then managed to put myself on right downwind for runway 20. That’s what happens when you don’t pay attention.

I then routed to Saron, a little town about 50nm from Saldahna, and just north of Porterville. I don’t know how, but I had a bit of a tailwind going there. I was about halfway to Saron when the sun started to rise, the mountains silhouetted against the sky. By the time I got to Saron there was an orange glow on the horizon.

It was when I was routing back to Stellenbosch that the sky was orange, yellow, light blue and dark blue, and my camera died. The wind was strong in the Tulbagh area, but I still had a tailwind, and I’m not sure how that worked out. But I’m not complaining.

As I passed Klapmuts, the wind died down completely. The weather in this area is quite amazing. By the time I had landed and put the aircraft back in the hanger, the sun was rising above the mountains, warming everything up and I just stood there and defrosted.

So despite the early wake up, and the fear of flying into controlled airspace by myself, the flight went well. I think that everyone should do at least one early morning flight because seeing the sunrise while sitting at 3500ft is an amazing experience.

The Middle of Nowhere

2011-07-13T15:15:00.006+02:00

Saturday, 6 July

In order to get one’s commercial license, you have to complete a 300nm x-country. So a month or two ago I started planning, and I decided that I would go to Tanqua and Clanwilliam. A friend was keen on the trip, so he joined me and flew along in a Cessna 152 (I was in the Cubby, of course).

We’ve been having a lot of good weather, so we decided that Saturday would be the day. We plotted and planned, and I went over a few ‘worst case’ scenarios; our fuel planning had to be perfect. I calculated that we would both make it from FASH to Tanqua to Clanwilliam if we only had a groundspeed of 65kts (Cubby normally cruises at about 75kts).

We planned to leave at 0800. I took my time and we only took off at 0820. Despite my careful planning, I forgot that we would be flying directly into sun. I won’t make that mistake again. It was 6degrees on the ground, put there was an inversion at 2000ft, and it was 25degrees (so I didn’t freeze, for once).

We routed via Wellington to Ceres, and then followed some roads before routing directly to Tanqua. The green fields stopped, and the rocky brown ground began. It looked a bit like the surface of some desolate planet. It was boring, and I’m glad I had company; we chatted happily all the way there. Our groundspeed was 55-60kts. About three quarters of the way to Tanqua we started debating whether or not we should just route directly to Clanwilliam (it would save us a couple of miles). Eventually we decided that we would continue as per our plan, and land at Tanqua for a cooldrink.

The airfield is situated within the Tanqua Nature Reserve. It’s to the west of a dam, and to the east of some white/light brown sand. There are a couple of buildings near the runways, and that’s it. I didn’t see the runways until I was directly overhead, and I couldn’t find a windsock. I descended and did a runway inspection. That was when I saw the “windsock” (it didn’t look like one) for the first time, and I almost flew into it.

^Runway

Right, we have a rough idea of where the wind is coming from, and the runway surface looks flat and clear of debris. We both landed safely, and jumped out to stretch our legs and admire the scenery. It was a vast expanse of absolutely nothing. You don’t want to get stranded out there.

After (literally) kicking some stones around, we returned to our trusty machines. We would have a tailwind going to Clanwilliam, which was a blessing; we both burned more fuel than we should have. It just goes to show you that you shouldn’t believe the manual!

We climbed to flight level 065 and followed the Tanqua River towards the Cederberg. The valley’s looked both stunning and menacing, and I kept my eyes open for decent landing spots. Just in case. Apart from a couple of bumps, the flight was smooth, and we decided to fly over a lower part of the Cederberg, descend over Clanwilliam, and route south along the river to Nooitgedacht (a private strip where we could get some fuel and have lunch).

Once we began our descent the wind hit us. Hard. I came close to inadvertently rolling the Cubby a number of times. Thoughts of accidents where planes had been ripped apart came to mind, and I forced myself to stay calm and just ride the bumps. That helped, but it was still scary. All thoughts of a scenic flight along the dam had disappeared.

Routing overhead the field, I was so focused on what the wind was doing that I forgot to descend. But perhaps that was a good thing; I didn’t want to be too close to the ground when I hit a downdraught. My downwind and base legs were shocking, but I made sure that my approach was stable. Nooitgedacht sits on a slope, so I flew a flatter approach. There’s a house and tree on Final, and I quite enjoyed dodging them.

I somehow managed a beautiful landing on the upsloping runway. It was the first time I’d ever been there, and the first time I’ve landed on such a slope. After rehydrating the planes with a decent amount of AvGas, we wandered around the field and admired the scenery and aircraft. The valley is beautiful, and we even went to look at some rock paintings (some are over 6000 years old).

The wind seemed to have died down a bit, and we got ready to leave. We would take off downhill, turn right, and then route south back to Stellenbosch. We were hoping to stay fairly low, but soon we were climbing to F065. The turbulence was still horrible, even up there. We decided to route slightly west and get out of the valley once we got past Citrusdal.

Routing over the mountains was fine, but on the other side we encountered severe downdraughts; despite full power and a nose up attitude, the Cubby and Cessna continued to descend at 500fpm. The Cubby had a 100kt groundspeed a few times. We descended after Porterville. The turbulence wasn’t bad, and I was back in familiar territory. Routing south at 2500ft, I admired the green fields and clear blue sky.

A cropsprayer was doing his thing, and the D69 (Stellenbosch General Flying Area) was quiet. With a strong tailwind, we made it back to Stellenbosch in no time. My landing was less than great, but I was happy.

That sort of flying is ‘real’. You can plan as much as you like, but you will still have to make tough decisions along the way. Those decisions can be the difference between a successful, safe flight, or being forced to land in the middle of nowhere. Even though it is very serious and very real, it’s also great fun. You learn new things, and you build confidence in your own abilities, as well as your machine. And it’s even better if friends fly with you.

Now I can happily say that I’ve got that x-country out of the way, and logged another 4.9hrs. My legs are still stiff, and I’m still tired, but that trip was definitely worth sitting in that cramped little cockpit!

Happiness is. . .

2011-06-21T16:47:00.002+02:00

. . . hearing that you've passed all your commercial pilot license exams.

What can I say? I got the news 30minutes ago, and I'm shaking with relief and happiness. The hard work has paid off!

Just Do It!

2011-06-18T19:13:00.003+02:00

Saturday, 18 June

I’ve finally done it! After several days of procrastination and bad weather, I finally got my act together and told myself to go for a flight in a Cessna 152. And I survived!

For the past couple of days I’ve been asking myself one question; To fly, or not to fly?
Ask any pilot that question and they’ll probably hit you with a large, heavy object. Trying to decide whether or not you should go fly is like deciding whether or not you need oxygen. So why the hesitation?

Well, the last time I flew all on my lonesome in a C152 was about a year ago. During my PPL training, I only flew solo after a quick dual flight to make sure that I hadn’t forgotten anything. So this was quite different; I would be climbing into a relatively new aircraft, by myself, right off the bat, and I was scared.

I knew that if I didn’t get over my fear soon, it would just consume me. I knew that all I had to do was get in the plane and fly... And I eventually did that (after the thing started). When I climb into the Cubby, I feel like I’m at home. The stick is familiar, the throttle movement is smooth, and the sound is comforting.

Climbing into a C152 is like going to a friend’s house for the first time; you feel okay, but you’re weary, you don’t want to accidentally step over a line and get kicked out, it doesn’t quite feel natural. It sounds different, it looks different, and sun visors tend to fall off and hit you in the face. . .

But going through the checks is comforting. Rolling down the runway and lifting off, applying left aileron to compensate for the x-wind, seeing the world sink away... well, that’s always an amazing experience, no matter what aircraft you’re in.

I decided to do a circuit to make sure that I was happy. On downwind I ran through my checks as if I was flying the Cubby. “Brakes, undercarriage, throttle, mixture, temps, pressures, flaps, lights... Wait, flaps... I actually need to use those now, right?!” Right. Close the throttle slightly to bring the speed into the white arc, 10 degrees of flap. Turn onto Base, close the throttle, apply carburettor heat, flaps 20 degrees. Final, get the speed right, control height with the throttle, flaps 30 degrees. Cross the fence, carburettor heat cold, fly towards the numbers, look to the end of the runway and flare...

Touchdown.

A weight has been lifted from my shoulders – I can land it in a x-wind. With that out of the way, it was time for a scenic flight to the beach. Lurvely. She just purrs along... Well, purrs with a whole lot of squeaking and rattling. After the scenic flight it was back to Stellenbosch for a few circuits.

After a couple with full flaps I tried one with 20 degrees, and then another with no flap. I decided to be brave and try side slipping. Side slipping it felt a bit like side slipping a dishwasher... But I got her down, and I landed after only one small balloon. Getting a landing ‘perfect’ in a C152 isn’t as satisfying as in a taildragger, but it still feels good!

So I’m quite happy, and now that I’ve got past my fear, I think the C152’s and I will be getting quite familiar with each other. Bring on the night hours!

Check Once, Check Twice, Check Thrice

2011-06-15T16:53:00.000+02:00

After waiting several weeks to get my paperwork for my Night Rating back, I got fed up and called the CAA. They had received my application, but they just hadn’t posted the stuff I need. They sent me a fax to prove that they had indeed processed my application, and I was Night Rated.

A few days later I get a phone call from them. “We can’t process your application because you don’t have the required hours.”... Well isn’t that just fantastic. So I hauled out my logbook, and hey look, I didn’t actually have the required number hours. My instructor and I somehow missed that I only had 4.9hrs actual instrument time (requirement is at least 5hrs).

Now what? It’s been over 30 days since my test, so will I have to retest? After calling the CAA for hours my instructor and I finally got through to someone in Licensing, and they said it would be okay if I just get the hours and submit a new logbook summary. Thank goodness!

So it just goes to show how easy it is to miss something. Needless to say we won’t be making that mistake again!

_________________________________________________________________________________

On Monday I wrote Air Law. They always manage to ask the weirdest, most irrelevant questions. But I think I was better prepared for it this time (not that one can really be prepared; you can read the book until your eyes bleed, and they’ll still ask you a question on something you’ve never heard of or seen).

I wrote Navigation yesterday morning. It was infinitely better than the last time I wrote it. We got the correct papers, and started on time. I forgot my eraser at home, but luckily a friend allowed me to steal half of his.

I worked fast, seeing as the biggest problem with Nav is taking too long and having 5 questions left and no time. I don’t know if it’s a good thing that I finished within 1hr30 (2hr paper). So I went through my work and came to a question involving scale, where they kept changing the units (had to work with statute miles, nautical miles, kilometres, centimetres and inches). Let’s just say that I got different answers depending on if I used the conversions and a regular calculator, to when I used the CX2 Pathfinder.

And so I broke a very important multiple choice rule, and I changed my answer. Now I’m wondering if I made the right decision.

Hopefully I’ll know early next week. Of course I want to pass, but what happens, happens. I worked hard, and I did my best.

6 Down, 2 To Go

2011-05-26T17:14:00.002+02:00

So after much waiting, pacing, hair-pulling, and listening to excuses from the CAA, I got my exam results.

Instruments = Pass. Happy!
Air Law = Fail.

Here I thought I had aced Law. Just goes to show you that these things are so unpredictable.

All that's left is Air Law and Navigation. And I have just under 3 weeks to study. Please, please, PLEASE let me pass these next time!

Oh Fog!

2011-05-18T12:49:00.002+02:00

Friday, 13th
Today was the first time in a long time that I was up before 8am (I’m definitely not a morning person). I eagerly made my way to BP to get some petrol for the plane, and then headed towards the airfield. Not even 5km from home, the weather went from sunny to fog.

Oh well, I’ll take my time putting the fuel in and maybe it will burn off. Almost an hour later, and no improvement. Okay, I’ll go and have some coffee. After 30 minutes, there was still no improvement. Great. The met office said it should start to clear... Rule of thumb, when the met man says something, expect the exact opposite ;)

So instead of flying, I went to Cape Town in search of boots. That mission was also unsuccessful.

Saturday, 14th
Yes, sunny with a light breeze. I went for a walk around the neighbourhood, and when I looked to the north and west, I was greeted with walls of fog. Right then, no flying for me today.

Monday, 16th
Fog isn’t bad in Stellenbosch, it’s just hazy. So I decided to stay close to the field and do circuits. They went well, and I was quite happy even though I wanted to log at least 1.5hrs and I ended up with less than half of that.

Tuesday, 17th
Finally, good weather! After studying in the morning, I went to the Club and dragged my little yellow bomber out of the hanger. The plan? Fly to Dimerskraal. One of my friends had been nagging me about flying, and he had some free time, so he came along at the last minute.

My first landing at Dimerskraal seemed to be going well, but I took power just as the wheels touched in a perfect 3-pointer (I thought the ground was further away than what it actually was). The second landing was a real landing, and we stopped and taxi’d around a bit. Now, Dimerskraal is a little dirt strip with one heck of a slope (that isn’t constant), and I hadn’t been there for a while, so it was great knowing I could still get in and out there. And it’s also quite a nice little strip.

On the way back we routed ‘low-level’ (everyone seems to have a different definition of low-level. My policy is that if it isn’t safe, you’re too low. If it is safe, fly just above that.) The stretch between Dimerskraal and Stellenbosch is full of power lines, trees, vineyards, and little fences. So while one can fly 100ft off the deck, if your engine coughed, you’d stand a greater chance of ploughing into one of the aforementioned obstacles.

We returned to FASH, and I managed to put her down nicely (I even got some compliments from some of the members). Another 1.6hrs done, 50-something to go until I hit the 200hr mark.

Oh dear.

Law and Instruments

2011-05-12T14:16:00.000+02:00

On Monday I wrote the Law & Ops exam. In true CAA fashion, they asked some strange questions. But luckily there was a total of about 44 questions, so you have room for error. I can barely remember what the exam was like, so I’m just going to have to wait and see if I passed.

Instruments, well... I was most worried about the Magnetism side of things, and for the last couple of days I worked hard on those sort of questions. The CAA threw a real curve ball and gave us quite a basic paper; a whole 22 questions, four of which required calculations. I had been so focused on mastering the complex calculations that I forgot to study the basic stuff. So I have no clue as to how well I’m going to do in that exam.

I wish I could really relax and be even more lazy than usual, but I still have Nav left, so I suppose I should start studying for that. Ugh.

Until next time.

Hell on the Helderberg

2011-05-07T22:28:00.008+02:00

I realise that this is a bit late...

Saturday, 16 April 2011

Swirling smoke rises into the sky, obscuring the sun and giving everything an orange glow. The source; a raging fire on the Helderberg Mountain.

Curious person that I am, I went to investigate, and I was shocked at how much of the Nature Reserve was going up in flames. Fire engines, Police cars and Traffic Cops were everywhere, and crowds of people had parked on the side of the road near the dam at the base of the Reserve in order to watch.

Minutes after arriving (12:20), I heard the tell-tale ‘wap, wap, wap’ of the Huey. ZS-HBU, based at Stellenbosch airfield, came through the Helderberg Gap and immediately set to work.

Twenty minutes later, a Kamov came along to join in the fun, and the two choppers set about bombing the flames closest to the residential area. The fire extended from the bottom of the Reserve, to the very top of the Helderberg Mountain. The strong south easterly winds were pushing it towards the western slopes of the Helderberg.

After 40 minutes, I left and I had no intention of coming back. But while sitting at home, I heard the drone of two Dromader’s as they flew low over the houses towards the fire. As I had never seen a Dromader in action before, I decided to go back.

In the space of about an hour, two more choppers had arrived on scene, and the fire had spread. But what was interesting is that it was moving east; into wind. In a way the wind was good; the fire progressed very slowly towards the east, but unfortunately it was still moving west, and it was making its way to the Stellenbosch side of the Helderberg Mountain.

Just after 15:00, another chopper arrived and landed on one of Beaumont’s fields to quickly get the Bambi bucket out. The aerial support now consisted of five Choppers, two Spotters and three Bombers.

The main focus was obviously on protecting the residential areas, but after bombing the area intensely for several hours, two of the choppers, as well as the Bombers, began bombing the line of fire that was slowly moving east.

I left at about 17:00 and made my way to the Stellenbosch Airfield. It was scary to see how much the fire had spread on the northern side of the mountain. A line of flames steadily made its way down the mountain to vineyards and forests. The rising smoke reminded me of a mushroom cloud forms after an atom bomb has been dropped.

Come 18:30, the aerial support was forced to leave. After many hours of hard work the various fire crews had managed to extinguish the majority of the flames on the southern side of the mountain. But despite the best efforts of Working on Fire, VWS (Volunteer Wildfire Services), and the Fire Department, the fire continued to burn throughout the night on the Stellenbosch side of the mountain, and parts were still burning by Sunday afternoon.

On Monday, a friend and I surveyed the damage from the air. It was as if we were looking at another planet; the black and brown ground, blackened rocks and the shell of a house, its walls blackened, stared us in the face. Large expanses of forest and Fynbos had simply vanished.

Patches of ground were still smoldering, and the forests that hadn’t been completely obliterated were merely clumps of trees here and there. It was surreal to see how many houses were surrounded by burnt ground, but their walls seemed to have been untouched by the flames, some of them even had beautiful green patches of grass.

On Saturday, I witnessed a community coming together. Traffic Cops, and members of the Helderberg Crime Watch worked together to block roads and redirect traffic. Police and Traffic Cops kept the public at bay and made sure that onlookers didn’t park in the way of the fire crews. VWS (Volunteer Wildfire Services) managed to get in on the action, and their volunteers did what they could to help. The members of the Fire Department did a sterling job. Working on Fire helped by having two Spotters (Spotters 1 and 5), four Huey’s (ZS-HBU, ZS-HBV, ZS-HLA, ZU-RAS), and three Bombers (Bombers 5, 6 and 9, with Bomber 7 making an appearance) tackle the fire. Titan Helicopter’s Kamov ZS-PXU with it’s massive 3000l Bambi Bucket joined in on the fun as well.

It’s the first time I’ve witnessed five helicopters and several Bombers fighting a single fire, and I believe that that is an indication of just how serious it was. Seeing the air and ground crews working together was something to behold (watching the choppers as they picked up and dropped water was better than watching any airshow display). Along with all those that were on the fire line, we must remember those that worked behind the scenes and collected and delivered food and water to the ground crews (I’m sure it was greatly appreciated).

Now, then, what was the cause of this? They said it was a controlled burning of a fire-break that got out of control. I think not; who burns a fire-break in strong wind, at the end of the fire season?

Time Flies

2011-04-24T15:07:00.002+02:00

Okay, so I didn't realise that its been almost a month since my last post. There hasn't been much to write about. Yes, we did have the Simons Town Navy Festival, but I found it rather dull. The flying displays consisted of a Lynx and the Silver Falcons; no Oryx. And while it was good to see so many of our ships there, climbing aboard each and every one of them just isn't fun.

Apart from that, I've been studying, sleeping, and fighting with the internet (thanks to Telkom, this is the first time since last week Thursday that I've been able to go on the interwebs). Oh, I've done the occasional bit of flying. I started my Night Rating a few weeks ago, and now all I need to do is a refresher flight, and then the test. Me being me, I picked winter to do this. Yesterday was stunning, today it's raining. Joy.

Last week there was a fire on th Helderberg Mountain. That was exciting. I'll post something on that soon.

Last night I realised that it's almost May. I want to have my CPL by 8 August 2011. I have 3 subjects left, and I need another 65 hours. I think I'm running out of time...

Happy Easter.

Shake, Rattle, and Roll

2011-03-27T19:29:00.005+02:00

Okay, no roll…

Friday, 25 March

A dream has come true; I flew the Huey. I sat in the left seat, and I actually got to get an idea of what it feels like to fly a helicopter. And wow, was it different!

We were flying to the east of the Steenbras dam in order to drop water on a few spots that might flare up and burn the rest of the mountain (fires have been burning in that area for days). After we left Stellenbosch, I was given permission to follow on the controls.

So I wrapped my right hand loosely around the cyclic, and I rested my toes on the (anti-torque) pedals. Uhm, what am I supposed to be following? Sure we’re going straight and level, but the controls are hardly moving.

I know that flying helicopters is all about small movements. But I didn’t realise just how small they had to be. When he gave (almost) full control to me, I soon learnt that my small movements weren’t small enough. And every now and then I could see him still the cyclic out the corner of my eye.

I slowly figured out how to correct any mistakes I made, and I managed to keep us level… for about 10 seconds. When we crossed the mountains I was expecting the wind to have some sort of effect on the helicopter, but it was as if the air was as smooth as glass.

It was at this point that the pilot took control once again so that I could take photos. I got my first look at the fire-damage, and it made my jaw drop. The ground is black and grey, the rocks blackened, and it looks like a wasteland.

We landed near where he would be working, and the Bambi Bucket and I were thrown out (not literally, of course). I took photos from the ground while he worked, and I got to see a helicopter picking up water for the first time.

After about an hour of bombing (+-19 000l was dropped), the chopper pilot, Spotter pilot, and guys on the ground decided that the fire shouldn’t flare up, and if it did, it wouldn’t burn for long because there was nowhere for it to go (it was surrounded by rocks).

After thanking the guys that helped from the ground (gave advice as to where to drop the water), the bucket was put back in the Huey and we jumped in. After waving good-bye to the guys on the ground, we routed along the coast where I got some fantastic photos.

After we passed overhead Gordon’s Bay, I was given partial control once again (my left had stayed far away from the collective), and this time I managed to keep us level for most of the flight back to Stellenbosch.

I followed lightly on the controls during joining and landing. There was very little cyclic movement once again. I’m going to have to practice keeping my hands very steady.

So now that I’ve actually had the opportunity to fly a helicopter, I’m starting to see what they’re all about. In a way, it feels a bit like I’m experiencing all of these wonderful things now, so when I experience them when I’m older and wiser, it won’t be as awesome. But I’m still extremely grateful that I’ve been able to experience these things.

Maybe I’ll leave the skydiving and shark cage diving for when I’m in my 20ies.

;)

Saturday, 26 March

My way of giving back and showing that I’m thankful for what people have done for me, is by volunteering to fly ‘youngsters’ around. Today the Young Falcons were getting flips, and I was one of the volunteer pilots. While I didn’t fly a massive amount of people around, I did give two young ladies the opportunity to experience the wonders of flight. Judging by the smiles on their faces when we landed, I think they enjoyed it.

5 Down, 3 To Go

2011-03-27T19:10:00.002+02:00

Right, I wrote Navigation and Meteorology last week.
Things were off to a bad start before I had even woken up. Why? I overslept. Instead of leaving the house at 0620, I only woke up after 0630. And I had to race across to the other side of town to pick up a friend.

Luckily the traffic wasn’t took hectic, and I arrived in time for my exam.
Now then, Navigation was first. I was handed my stuff, and as I flicked through it I thought ‘Where’s the question paper? Maybe she’ll hand it out separately.’ We got some more stuff, but still no question paper. I looked back at the others and they also seemed puzzled.

When she was finished handing everything out, she walked over to me and I asked where the question paper was. She frowned, went through my papers, and, like me, didn’t find any questions. She did the same to two other people.

Well done CAA, you have failed to give us our question papers! Now what? They’ll fax them through. What’s the fax number? Uhm…

After much sitting around and twiddling our thumbs, we finally got our papers. Well, sort of. I took mine, and saw that “PROCEDURES” was written on the front page. I flicked through it just incase they had made a mistake on the front page, but when I saw questions on MDH (minimum decision height) and things I’ve never heard of, I knew I definitely had the wrong paper. “Sorry?” I raised my hand and the invigilator walked over to me. I pointed at the paper. “It’s the wrong subject.”

Well done CAA, you faxed us the wrong subject’s paper. After waiting an hour, we finally received the correct question papers. We couldn’t decipher some of the numbers (5’s, 6’s, and 8’s looked the same), but at least we had our papers.

The exam was horrible, and I didn’t finish in time. Needless to say, I failed it. But at least I passed Meteorology (surprisingly enough; it was also a horrible exam).

Thank you, CAA!

Cubby and Tail-dragger Fly In

2011-03-21T20:43:00.017+02:00

This year, Mossel Bay played host to the annual Cubby Fly In, hosted over the weekend.

Thursday, Day 1

I woke up at 6am, planning on leaving the house at 0645. 7am, right, I’m finally ready to go. It’s a nice day, but there’s lots of cloud over Sir Lowry’s Pass. My brother-in-law and I headed to the airfield to refit the Cubby’s tailwheel (had another puncture), refuel and re-oil the plane, and prepare for my trip to Mossel Bay.

With everything done, I’m ready to leave, however Mossel Bay is IMC (instrument meteorological conditions). Great. So I waited at Stellenbosch. And then I waited some more. At 12pm, I decided that even if the weather did improve, I would be too tired to make the long journey. Friday is another day.

The 'taxi'...

Friday, Day 2

I didn’t bother getting up at the crack of dawn; I knew there will be clouds and it will take a few hours for them to burn off. To kill some time, I browse the interwebs, check Facebook, and try to check the weather on Weathersa (unsuccessfully… my password wouldn't work).

My sister wandered in and asked if I wanted to go cycling. I figured I might just die, but yeah, okay, why not. So I run around, eat brekka and all that. The place is 5 minutes away; it’s a beautiful farm on on the north-western side of the Helderberg Mountain. This was my first real mountain biking experience, and I almost did die. Why did they put all the steephills there; it’s just climb after climb!

That done, I went home, showered, ate, and decided to try get to Mossel Bay.
I opted to route via Franschoek Pass instead of Sir Lowry’s Pass. It would add an extra 20 minutes to my trip, but that’s better than hitting turbulence.

As I left Stellenbosch airspace and made a call saying I was routing to Helshoogte, a voice said “The female caller, your registration please.” As soon as I heard it, I knew it was ATC (Air Traffic Control), and I thought ‘Oh no, did I climb too soon and enter their airspace by accident?’
“The female caller is Delta Victor Romeo.”
“Delta Victor Romeo, please be advised there is a formation of 16, that’s one six, aircraft routing to Stellenbosch.”
“Thanks for the warning sir.”
Yay, I wasn’t in trouble!

I didn’t take chances with Franschoek, and I climbed to over 5000ft before going over the pass. All I encountered was a small bump. There was a fire on the other side of the Pass, and I thought ‘Where’s Working on Fire?’. Then I looked to my right. Oh. The area between Kleinmond and Sir Lowry’s Pass was on fire, and a huge plume of smoke was rising from near the Steenbras Dam.

Once overhead Theewaterskloof Dam, I descended to FL035, and routed to Caledon. Eish, I cruised at 40-50kts groundspeed for most of the way. My slowest was 38kts. To entertain myself, I started singing “I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts…”

I passed overhead a tiny town called Protem, and the GPS said it would take me 50 minutes to get to Riversdale. 15 minutes later, I checked the GPS again. Still 50 minutes to go. Great. What if I descend? As soon as the thought crossed my mind, some wind threw me around. Okay, climb then. Once at FL045, my groundspeed stayed above 60kts. Happy days!

The rest of the Cubby-drivers decided to meet me at Riversdale. The place is interesting (the runway, not the town). The wind was pumping so there was a lot of wid shear, you fly over a road on short Final, and there is a very convenient bump on the runway just after the point of touchdown. My thought process on landing was something like “Okay, cool, I’m on the ground… wait, I’m airborne again! Hmmm, how did that happen?”

After meeting everyone (I only knew one of the 6 guys that was there), getting some magic juice for the Cubby and a quick photo session, we were off. The flight to Mossel Bay took just over an hour.

Once at Mossel Bay, I did my first straight in approach (okay, we joined on left Base). The wind made sure we knew it was there, and the runway is like the sea; up and down. I got the Cubby down. She came up. I got her down again. The left wheel decided to get airborne again. I finally got all three wheels planted firmly on the ground. Yes!

I was knackered (still am). I did 3.8 hours. It was supposed to take me 2.5, but the wind, she is pesky. I got to know the rest of the Cubby-drivers, and they are all a really great bunch of guys. Yes, I was the only female Cubby-driver. I think I’m the only female Cubby pilot in the country.

After dinner, JP, R and I left. JP and I were staying at R’s place. We couldn’t have asked for a better host. He and his family made me feel right at home, and R even provided us with some entertainment… He had an ostrich egg, and he wanted to show us how strong the shell is.
“It’s so strong you can stand on it! Look, I’ll show you.”
He placed it on the (tiled) floor, and started putting his weight on it. Crunch. Egg everywhere! Yummy.

Now, it’s time for some sleep.

Saturday, Day 3

Early (0645) wake-up. Breakfast is at Oudtshoorn, and we want to be airbornce at 8am. Well, being pilots, we only took off at about 0845.

It took us just under an hour to get there, and I was so tired of sitting, but the breakfast was worth it; fruit salad, juice, toast, and a delicious omlette, all for R30! Brilliant!

Oudtshoorn has a lovely airfield, and I don’t know why they don’t have airshows there; the runway is long and wide, Jet A1 and Avgas are available, and there’s ample space. What more do you need?

Unfortunately Oudtshoorn has something you don’t need; thorns. Out of the 7 aircraft parked in the grass, I was the only one that got punctures…

After brekka, we headed back to FAMO (Mossel Bay). I didn’t know the area at all, so I just followed S (CYB) and C (DJZ). E in OHI (C172) flew back with us too. He slotted in behind me. He seems to enjoy flying slowly behind us Cubby’s. After crossing the Robinson Pass, we did a fast descent, and the Cubby hit 100kts (groundspeed). That's the first time I've gone that fast in the Cubby.

As we approached the airfield, a little white ‘rocket’ shot past us. Cessna Mustang ZS-YES had come for a visit.

After landing and shutting down, DVR and YES posed for some photographs. Lunch was delayed, so we changed my tailwheel tube while we waited. When I say “we”, I mean everyone else did the work; I just stood there. Guys, thank you so much for all the help, I really appreciate it!

Lunch still wasn’t ready, so I got myself acquainted with R’s Cutlass (Cessna 172 RG). What a beautiful machine!

The food was finally ready! After our snack, we planned the afternoon’s activities. We were going to go on a scenic trip up the coast towards Knysna. The Mustang had to leave, and we were graced with a couple of fly-pasts.

We had a quick briefing before our flight along the coast, and some of the guys decided that they didn’t actually want to go; they would be flying that way tomorrow, and didn’t want to do the trip twice. I didn’t mind not going; if there was a strong headwind, there was a good chance that I’d come close to running out of fuel.

So we decided to fly in to Billy’s field instead. It’s about a 5 minute flight, and the ‘strip’ is essentially a dirt track. After we were all on the ground we stood around and chatted. I looked down the ‘runway’ and decided that I’d quite enjoy flying into places like this often. It’s different and exciting.

10 minutes later and we were ready to go again. I was airborne in no time, and my “low-level fly-past” didn’t really work out; it was more of a spastic sideslip.

Right, now what are we going to do? Flour-bombs and spot landings? Sounds good! We went two at a time, so that the others could watch. As soon as we were done, two more would take off. S in CYB and I were the first two.

I lined up for the flour-bombing, and just as I was about to lob the ‘bomb’ out, my door closed. I ended up overshooting by something like 10m (or was it 16m? Either way, I came in 3rd).

I had only planned on doing one spot-landing (we were meant to do one glide approach and one powered approach) because I didn’t want to place too much strain on the punctured tires. Well, that one spot-landing turned into several bounces down the runway, and I ended up going around.

My next try was better, but I flared too early and dropped the last few feet. I took power at the last second and managed to cushion the landing. It was fun watching the others, and E in OHI was the only one that landed within 5m of the line.

I’d done almost 3 hours of flying today. Booya! Time to pump the Cubby’s tires up, tuck the planes in, relocate puffadders, eat, and chat. Dinner was fantastic (braai), and dessert came in the form of a night flight over Mossel Bay. Thanks E!

Sunday, Day 4

Everyone was leaving today. The guys were up at the crack of dawn, but I decided to have a little lie-in. Once I finally got up, R informed me that the Cubby’s tires had gone flat. Great…

After some breakfast, R and I made our way to the airfield. We jacked the plane up, put more puncture fix in, and pumped the tires up. I was only planning on leaving on Monday, but we wanted to see how long the tires would stay hard for.

Job done, we went back to his hanger. We were going to do some flying in his Cutlass. The best thing? He’s instructor rated on it, so I can log the hours. The pre-flight was pretty standard, but the rest of it, well, I was thrown in the deep end.

Not only does it have retractable gear, but it also has a variable-pitch propeller. R explained the basics to me, and then we were off. It was different to say the least. We did medium turns, steep turns (I really need some work there), clean stalls, dirty stalls (landing gear and flaps down), and a simulated engine failure.

She stalls in a docile manner, and she’s also very forgiving in general. You don’t need to worry about accidentally extending the gear when you’re going too fast because, well, you can extend it at almost any speed. The controls can get heavy though, and I found that I constantly had to adjust the trim.

Upper-air work done, we returned the airfield for some circuits. Apart from the gear, flaps, pitch, cowl flaps, manifold pressure, and carb heat, it’s the same as the Cubby. After the second circuit I started getting to know the machine. I could hear the slight change in sound as you coarsened the pitch on downwind, the slight clunk as the gear extended/retracted and locked, the fact that 10 degrees of flap didn’t seem to do much, but 20 degrees definitely did. After a few circuits clunks and slight variations in sound became comforting.

But by the end of the flight, I was tired and pretty much drenched in sweat; it was hot, and it was stressful. I couldn’t believe that we had flown for 1.4 hours; I thought it was less. Time flies…

We checked the Cubby and one tire had started to deflate, but the other was fine. I also phoned the Met Office to see what the weather was doing. The chap was very kind and he said “Go now, leave, get in your plane!” The weather between FAMO and Stellenbosch was good, but it was going to deteriorate. So I decided to leave that afternoon. (Good decision!)

We went back to R’s place so I could get the rest of my stuff and plan my flight. His wife made us a wonderful lunch, and I’m grateful for that; I think the pasta was the only thing keeping me going, because after getting back to Stellenbosch, I was ready for a nice long sleep.

The flight back took much less than the flight there. The wind couldn’t decided if it wanted to be head or tails, but it was very light. The visibility, however, was shocking; a layer of smoke hung between FAMO and FASH.

I landed at FASH 20 minutes before sunset, and was greeted by a C172 and C177RG parked where the Cubby normally sleeps. Luckily one of the members came and helped me rearrange everything. I wouldn’t have managed without him!

I logged 10.7 hours between Friday and Sunday, bringing my total Cubby hours to 108, and my grand total to 127. This weekend has showed me what flying should be like; friends getting together, sharing stories, flying to random places, helping each other out, and having a good time.

R, thanks for organizing this trip, and thank you for letting me be your guest. To all the other pilots that attended the fly-in; it was great to meet you. You guys are absolutely amazing, and I’m glad that I could be a part of everything.

Until next time…

Son, Sea, and Helicopters

2011-03-12T21:25:00.005+02:00

Saturday, 12 March 2011

Wow, I can’t believe it’s already Saturday. What’s even more unbelievable is the fact that I was not only awake, but up and ready for the day before 7am. Amazing. Of course, I had a motive…

An AMS helicopter would be conducting training exercises with the NSRI by the Gordon’s Bay Harbour. So I made my way over there to take some photographs. The helicopter arrived about 45 minutes after it was supposed to be there (helicopter pilots, pfft). So I spent that time walking along the Gordon’s Bay Harbour wall, praying that a huge wave wouldn’t come thundering along and drench my camera in water.

It’s been a while since I’ve been in a harbour. I must say, it was good to smell the smells (the salt, not the rotting fish), see the sea, and listen to the waves rolling in and out. The helicopter finally arrived and landed by the Gordon’s Bay Naval Base. The AMS crew and NSRI had a briefing before going off to their respective craft.

A couple of minutes later I got a call from my friend. “Do you want to come on the boat and take photos from there?”
“Uhm, yeah, okay.”
“Run, you have 5 minutes to get here.”
So I ran, huffing and puffing as I went. I walked into the NSRI building, signed the indemnity form, was given a lifejacket, and hopped onto the boat.

Time to kick the… tyres?, and light the fires!
It’s been at least 5 years since I last went on a boat, and I’m pleased to say that I still have my sea-legs. I’d forgotten how amazing it feels moving through the water, bobbing up and down with the swells and listening to the water splashing along the side.

We went a short distance from the harbour and waited for the helicopter. It was primarily their exercise (the NSRI was there as a precaution, and to provide people to throw into the water, at least that’s the way I understood it); AMS would be practicing dropping swimmers from the helicopter, and then lifting swimmer and the rescuee (forgive me, I don’t know the correct terms) and flying to shore with them hanging beneath the helicopter on a (very) long line.

You have to admire those people; they jump from quite a height. And once they’re in the water, they have to fight with currents, as well as the spray from the helicopter’s rotor wash hitting them in the face. Looking at the water, I noticed a number of white things floating around. On closer inspection, I realised that they were jellyfish. Cute.

I think it was on the final ‘drop-and-retrieve’ when the helicopter hovered very close to the boat, effectively spraying us with water. My camera didn’t enjoy that much, and the salt created a thin film over the lens, making it look all hazy.

Exercise complete, we returned to the harbour. It was an awesome morning, and it’s great seeing the rescue services working in harmony. I would like to say a very big thank you to the volunteers of NSRI Station 9 for allowing me to join them at sea.

That just proves that it’s all about who you know, and being in the right place at the right time.

Swellendam Fly-In and Airshow

2011-03-07T17:44:00.011+02:00

On 4-6 March, the sleepy little town of Swellendam was in for a rude awakening. Okay, maybe not a rude one; being awoken by the sounds of planes, helicopters and jets flying around is actually quite nice.

This would be the first fly-in that I would be attending by myself. I would be camping there, so while I tried to keep the bags to a minimum, I still ended up having four stuffed in the front of the plane (good thing you can take the stick out and disconnect the rudders). I meant to take a photo, but I forgot. The plane looked a bit like a taxi.

I opted to fly up on Friday, my reasoning was that the weather might be horrible on Saturday, and then I wouldn’t have been able to go. I wanted to leave at about 0800, but as I was taxing to the runway, a friend called me on the radio and said that Swellendam was covered in mist. So, I turned around, taxied back to the hanger, and waited.

After waiting over an hour, I received word that it was clearing, so I hopped in the plane and off I went. The 1hr20min flight there was rather uneventful, and I got a bit bored as I bumbled along at a whole 60-65kts. I managed to get up to about 75kts… for about 10 seconds.

Shortly after I had passed overhead Caledon, Bosbok ZU-ADI, passed me (they left about 15 minutes after me). It’s always amazing seeing another plane from the air, and I especially love the way the Bosbok looks as it breaks away, the sun catching it in this magical way. I don’t have a photo of it passing me, unfortunately.

This was my first time at Swellendam, and I was given a kick in the pants during my landing… The windsocks were barely moving, but there was definitely wind! I had messed my landing up before I had even turned onto the Base Leg; I wasn’t concentrating and was therefore too high and too fast. Side-slipping in, I crossed the threshold of runway 15, and I was struck by three things; the wind literally hit me, I realised that the runway slopes down, and I was at least 10kts faster than what I should’ve been.

I landed deep and it definitely wasn’t one of my best landings. But I made it on the ground in one piece, taxied to my parking, hopped out and got my first view of the field.

While not as nice as Stellenbosch, it’s still a cute field. They had a campsite set up for those that were staying the night, as well as an area where you could sit and watch the show (chairs and umbrellas were provided). I spent most of the afternoon doing nothing. I managed to get an hour of studying in, and that was it for the weekend.

Things livened up a bit when people started doing their validation flights, and the SAAF’s Hawk display was quite phenomenal. Part of his display was a low fly-past in the ‘dirty’ configuration (flaps and landing gear down). He was so low in fact, that the right main wheel accidentally touched the ground. I say accidentally because I think it is illegal for an aircraft to do touch-and-go’s at a field if it can’t take off and land there. Although, I think the Hawk could probably land and stop in time if it has a drag chute. But I’m not sure. When he did his display on Saturday no part of the aircraft touched the ground.

The nice thing about being there the day before the actual show is that I had a bit more freedom; they were still setting up and I knew a lot of the people, so I got to sit in some nice spots. Unfortunately the light was horrible, I didn’t take all that many photos (by that I mean I took less than 1000).

The night was spent chatting to friends and ‘kuiering’. One of the instructors from Stellenbosch and his student were there, so we stuck together and set our tents up next to each other. At midnight, we decided to stargaze. Not only did I look at the Southern Cross for the first time (I know, right), but I also saw two shooting stars.

We turned in at 1am. At 2am I was awoken by the sound of an animal scurrying around. It freaked me out because it sounded like it was inside of the tent. I eventually managed to drift off again, and was up and about at 7am (rather amazing as I’m not a morning person).

The field was covered in mist, but it started burning off at about 9am, and people started arriving by air. They had 45 aircraft movements in 45 minutes, which is quite something. ATC was kept busy, and there were quite a few funny radio transmissions…

ATC: Aircraft XYZ, please state your position.
XYZ: Will state my position, XYZ.

Hmmm…

ATC: Lima Sierra November, your level?
LSN: Yes, I am level.

:)

The airshow itself wasn’t that big; it was primarily a fly-in. The SAAF had one Hawk display, as well as Silver Falcon #5, an Oryx and an A109. The other displays were flown by those that had flown in, and included: L39 Albatros, Pitts Special, Harvard, Bosbok, Piaggio Albatross, Gyrocopter, Sanka helicopter, L39 model, and glider aerobatics.

The glider was quite amazing, and I no longer think that they are boring. Doing three consecutive loops without losing height in an aircraft that doesn’t have an engine is quite amazing.

The light was pathetic, and there weren’t really any good spots to take photos from, so I pretty much just sat in the sun and baked.

The solo Silver Falcon display was nice because it was something different; the Silver Falcons have acquired some new team members, so this was the first time we’d seen the new #5 perform. Unfortunately he either forgot to switch the smoke on, or the system decided not to work.

The Hawk display was, wow! Low, fast and loud. He did a low-level fly-past, the roar of the engine making your bones rattle, then pulled up vertically until he was at about 10 000ft. The roar disappeared and was replaced with silence. It was surreal. Eventually he ran out of energy, hung in the air for a bit, then came back down. As he neared the ground, he applied power, and as the engine spooled up it went from a sort of a screech back to that roar. It’s difficult to describe, but it’s a sound I adore.

A lot of the people there that I knew decided to leave during the lunch break, which kind of sucked. There were still people there that I know, but they were all, ah, older. But I still had a good time. And the sunset that evening was absolutely amazing!

The fact that the show wasn’t very big meant that there weren’t thousands of people around, which was nice. It was also very well organized, and the commentator was not only funny (sometimes), but he also got the crowd and the pilots to participate, and he had enough common sense to keep quiet when aircraft were doing displays so that we could listen to the beautiful sound of their engines.

I decided to have an early-ish night. Soon after I climbed into my sleeping bag I once again heard something scurrying around. It sounded like it was under the tent, so I promptly took one of my bags and chucked it where I thought the sound was coming from. Either I killed it, or I scared it away, because I didn’t hear anything after that.

Sunday morning was much like Saturday morning; misty. It was also quite chilly, I only managed to get going after 11am due to the weather. The flight back was bumpy, but I actually managed to hit 78kts every now and then.

Needless to say I’m tired! But it was good to get away for a bit.

Riverdance

2011-02-28T20:55:00.000+02:00

On Saturday, 26 February, I attended the Riverdance show at the Grand Arena in Grand West. I’ve always been a big fan of tap-dancing, so I was really looking forward to it.

The Grand Arena is, well, grand. It can hold about 5000 people, and we had seats in the middle level, to the right of the stage. While a reasonable distance from the stage, you still have a good view, and they have screens on either side of the stage so you don’t miss out on much.

The Grand West staff was very efficient, which was pleasant, and we were seated in no time. Unfortunately the show wasn’t as great as I was expecting it to be. It turned out to be song and dance, with bits of tap in-between. I thought it would mostly be tap.

The music was excellent, and the drummer was absolutely amazing! He had at least two drum-kits as well as chimes and a huge array of cymbals and shakers, and who knows what else. He alternated between the instruments with ease and grace.

The sound was also great; crisp and clear. At first I thought that it had all been pre-recorded.

When they did tap-dance, it was phenomenal. The speed at which the people moved and the different sounds that they could make by using different parts of their feet was quite amazing. My favourite parts were when the entire group would come together and dance. The klikkity-klak of a few pairs of feet would turn into a thunderous wave of sound that sent shivers down my spine.

Another great part of the show was the ‘duel’ between the ‘street’ tap-dancers, and the Irish tap-dancers. It had both humorous and technical elements, and the guy that did the splits was amazing.

The show told a story, and there was a lot of “ballet”-styled dancing, which made it boring for me. Towards the end, I found myself more interested in the massive spotlights that were situated right at the back of the Arena.

Would I go to another Riverdance show? No, I don’t think so. I was hoping it would be explosive and full of action, like Tap Dogs had been, but it wasn’t.

But it was still impressive seeing the way those people moved in unison, each tap of the foot perfectly synchronized.

RV-smile

2011-02-23T09:03:00.004+02:00

The "RV-smile" is the goofy grin/smile that remains on your face for several days after flying in an RV...

Yesterday I was planning on going on a flight through the Franschoek Valley to Theewaterskloof Dam in the Cubby, but when I got to the plane I saw that the left tire was in the process of going flat (thorns are evil and puncture fix doesn't always work). So that plan flew out the window.

But, there was a seat open on an RV-8, so I went flying in that instead. Doing some aerobatics and formation flying makes up for the fact that I can't log the hours.

And the formation flying, wow! It's amazing seeing another aircraft that close to you, with the mountains forming the perfect backdrop.

We flew in formation to the Franschoek Valley, and then split up. We did some aerobatics while the people in the other aircraft watched, and then they did aerobatics while we watched. Watching aerobatics from the ground is amazing, but watching them from the air is breathtaking!

I felt like I was in a dog fight; craning your head around to keep the other aircraft in sight is hard work. And that was only at about 160kts. Imagine doing that at 500kts or more!

Loops, Rolls, Barrel Rolls, Stall Turns, Half Cuban Eight's, Steep Turns, and some other things I can't remember the names of. He also demonstrated that stalling has nothing to do with airspeed; it's a function of your angle of attack. While I know this from studying Principles of Flight, it was one of the first times I got to experience it; pulling the nose up, you turn 90 degrees and pull back on the stick until the aircraft begins to buffet (the sign of an approaching stall), you then release the back-pressure slightly, roll the wings level, and climb gently. Great fun.

I think the highest amount of G's that we pulled was 3.5, and I still don't think that the blood has fully returned to my brain yet. After a mere 30 minutes I was tired and sweaty, and ready to have a nap. So I have great respect for fighter pilots and aerobatic pilots. It's going to be a while before I'm "Aerobatic fit"!

I also have great respect for the people that do air-to-air photography from aircraft with small cockpits. Trying to focus on the other aircraft through the glass(or plastic) of your canopy is a challenge; you need to deal with turbulance and reflections, and you need to be very careful and avoid hitting the canopy with the lens.

All-in-all, another awesome experience. And I'd still love to have an RV-8.

Now, Navigation is calling my name. What an anti-climax.

4 Down, 4 To Go

2011-02-22T22:15:00.001+02:00

The results are out; I passed Flight Planning and ATG, so I’m ecstatic! Only 4 more subjects and another 100hrs left. Time to hit the books... hard; Navigation and Meteorolgy are next.

It's also time to get my x-country hours up. On Sunday I did some circuits at Fisantekraal, then went back to Stellenbosch only to be greeted with a 90 degree x-wind. But somehow I managed to put her down without a problem.

Yesterday I made my way along to mountains to Tulbagh and Porterville. Two little towns in the middle of nowhere, but the flight was good and I can add another 2 hours to the logbook.

And today, well... that deserves its own post :)

Wap, Wap, Wap

2011-02-13T20:24:00.009+02:00

It’s not easy to describe the iconic sound of a Huey, but I thought that Nelson DeMille’s description of them going “Wap, wap, wap” fitted the bill.

Today a dream came true; I finally got to go for a flight in the iconic UH-1H Huey. I’ve been waiting for this for two years, so it just goes to show that good things do come to those that wait.

Unfortunately I wasn’t able to sit up front; so I sat towards the back, facing sideways. With the doors wide open, it meant I could get some amazing photographs.

After a quick safety briefing, we piled in, and got strapped in. The pilot said “You are flying in a legend.”
Then one of the pax said “Are we leaving the doors open?”
“Yes.”
“And we don’t have to turn our cell phones off?”
“Yes.”
“This IS a legend!”
I couldn’t help but laugh.

After that exchange, we started up. Wow! It was completely different to the Eurocopter. It’s loud, and you shake and wobble in your seat as the main rotor picks up speed. As the rotor begins to turn faster, the wobbling stops, but there’s still a lot of vibration. I sat there and thought “This isn’t so bad; I thought I’d be blasted by wind.” I was wrong.

With everything set and ready to go, we gently lifted off the ground, flew backwards a couple of meters, swung to the left and climbed out to the south. We then turned left and headed towards the Simonsberg Mountain. As soon as we had lifted off, I was blasted by wave after wave of icy air. I actually started to shiver.

As I admired the view and listened to the blades turning above me, the machine vibrating beneath me, I thought that all I needed now was a gun, helmet and flack jacket. Then I thought about the young soldiers that flew in these during war time. That must have been something.

As we approached the Simonsberg, we turned left to fly along the western slopes, almost level with the peak. I felt like I could reach out and touch the rocks. We then hopped over some trees, flew clockwise around the mountain and looked for a place to land.

After a couple of minutes of flying around, the pilot decided to try put her down. I think one of the skids was on the ground, but it wasn’t stable and she began to tip backwards. The pilot immediately took power and climbed, the blades thumping. He tried again, but this time she wanted to roll to the side. So the co-pilot jumped out, and directed the pilot towards a suitable landing spot.

It’s the first time I’ve landed on a mountain, and I must admit that it was quite freaky. He shut down and we jumped out once the blades had stopped turning. The aircraft rocked back and forth slightly. Two of the pax left and climbed to the peak of the Simonsberg to join their friends, and I stayed behind and watched the pilots jam rocks under the skids to try and make it a bit more stable.

The reason for the flight was to drop two people off at the top of the mountain so they could join a group of people for their initiation (first year thing at university). The one guy had an injured knee, so he couldn’t hike up the mountain, hence the heli flight up. Talk about arriving in style.

It was absolutely amazing up there! Wisps of cloud floated past, but the air was perfectly still and I had gone from freezing to melting in a matter of minutes. We sat around for about 20min-30min, and then it was time to go. Two other guys would be joining us.

We all climbed in (me somewhat hesitantly as the thing still rocked back and forth), strapped ourselves in, closed the doors (good), and sat tight while the machine started up. Hearing that turbine always puts a smile on my face, and hearing the blades when they reach that certain speed where they sound ‘chunky’ sends shivers down my spine.

We lifted off and turned right as soon we were clear of the rocks and shrubs. The flight back to Stellenbosch was rather uneventful; the landing however, was quite something…

We flew overhead the field and came to a hover just to the west of the hangers. The pilot then pushed the cyclic forward so we were in a nose-down position, and turned relatively steeply to the left. Getting sucked into me seat, I’m sure I had a stupid-looking grin on my face. He then flew over the Dromader’s and turned left so that the nose was pointing west, and flew sideways along the taxiway to the landing spot.

Awesome! He set her down gently and that was that. The flight was over. It was definitely much better than my Eurocopter flight, and now I just want to be able to sit up front and see what it feels like to actually control a helicopter.

Thanks to everyone that made it possible for me to go with! Not many people get to say that their second helicopter flight was in a Huey, and involved landing on top of a mountain.

Standby...

2011-02-10T10:48:00.002+02:00

I wish I could say that I'm writing this from Namibia, but unfortunately I'm not. After waiting for months to go on my trip, I was told that the flight had been overbooked. Guess who didn't get a seat. . .

So, I'll try again next week. And if that doesn't work out, then it's safe to say that I won't be going to Namibia any time soon.

On Tuesday, a PC-12 crashed in Plett, killing all (9) on board. The aviation forums are filled with speculations (naturally). Many have said that it is only human nature to speculate, ask questions, form opinions, etc. and I agree. However, while I'm also bursting with questions, I'm going to keep them to myself, because quite frankly, I feel that it is not my place to ask them (partly due to lack of knowledge and experience). There are a lot of "IF's" and "MAYBE's" going around. Will we ever know what really happened? Who knows.

To the crew and passengers on board that flight, may you Rest in Peace.

The aviation industry is dangerous. Accidents like this serve to remind us of that fact.

A Gaggle of... Flight Attendants?

2011-02-09T12:28:00.002+02:00

Well, "wannabe flight attendants" is more correct.

Monday morning, the day of my ATG (Aircraft Technical and General) exam. About 10 minutes before we received our exam papers, the exam room was invaded by at least 12 flight attendant hopefuls that were writing their exams with us. I think they arrived on a bus, because they all randomly appeared at the same time.

Unfortunately some found the task of finding the desk with their name on it to be far too challenging, and resorted to wandering around the room (which isn't that big) looking lost. Hmmm, lets hope they know where to find the exits on the aircraft they might end up working on...

Wednesday morning (aka today). Flight Planning exam. I'm tired; I only fell asleep at 0230 this morning. I think it's because I only had dessert for supper (melon and ice-cream, yum), so it was my body's way of punishing me for not eating a real meal.

But anyway, I arrived an hour early and sat in the car jamming to Alanis Morissette. Okay, not jamming, I could barely stay awake. In fact, the only things keeping me awake was the smell of car fumes, and the sounds of Golden Arrow buses rumbling past me.

I somehow managed to resist the calls of sleep while writing my exam (amazing, seeing as the chairs we get now are sooo comfortable), and I finished the paper with time to spare.

Lets hope that I can tick another two subjects off the list :)

Now, it's time for me to pack. I somehow need to fit 50 million Avex books, as well as some clothes in a bag, and keep the weight under 25kg. Where am I going? Namibia.

Stay safe everyone.

Dromader Drone

2011-02-03T22:22:00.002+02:00

Wednesday, 2 February

It's evening. I finally got to see and hear my beloved Huey start up and take-off. Beautiful. I also got to see the Dromader's taking off while weighed down with about 1000 litres of water. Stunning.

Now, what could make my evening better? Listening to the Huey landing while the Dromader's circle overhead. The 'wap wap wap' of the Huey combined with the drone of the Dromader's sent shivers down my spine. Unfortunately I didn't watch them come back as I was sitting in ATG lectures (I almost ran out of the room, camera in hand, when I heard the Huey approaching. Almost.)

Thursday, 3 February

Another extremely hot day. Yesterday was in the 40ies, today was pretty much the same. But clouds have been building and a storm is near. About 10 minutes before the storm hit I heard the characteristic whine of a turbine starting up; the Huey had been called to a fire.

Lightning was crackling around, but the pilot went off (it was a smooth lift-off, and he even hovered along the taxi-way), and headed north. I personally thought he was crazy; clouds were closing in fast. The storm hit about 5 minutes after he left. It didn't last long, and while it was nice to have some rain, it was still extremely hot and humid.

After some time, I looked towards the Helderberg Mountain and saw a speck coming through the Gap. Was it a Huey? Was it a plane? I went inside to fetch my camera just in case. Good thing too. Wap wap wap. He came overhead, circled to the left as he descended and put her down beautifully on the grass as a few drops of rain began to fall.

After he had shut down and the rotors had stopped turning, I made my way over to him to help him with the cover for the blade tip. The pilot is a very nice chap, and it turns out that he flew in the Vietnam War. Awesome!

What's better than being in the rain? Being in the rain when you're tucking the Huey in for the night.

The Desire to Learn

2011-02-01T21:26:00.004+02:00

Every now and then I find myself really wanting to learn. This morning I was flying in a Super Cub and as I looked at its (few) instruments, I found myself thinking "It'd be really cool to learn about how all these things work." But just last month I was contemplating burning my Instruments notes.

And this afternoon I was studying while periodically gazing at my Huey (yes, mine), and I felt the sudden urge to run to the Flight Shop, grab the book on helicopter principles of flight, and learn about how those things fly.

And this evening I attended a PPL ATG (Aircraft Technical and General) lecture in order to brush up on some of the stuff seeing as I'm writing the comm version of it next week Monday. Surprisingly, I found it interesting. The 2.5hr lecture seemed to fly by, and I found it to be a real confidence booster when I could answer questions, and sometimes even explain things to the people around me.

I don't, however, have any interest in studying the 29 pages on aircraft electrical systems. Shudder.

I'm Still Alive

2011-01-25T08:08:00.002+02:00

I've just been feeling very lazy and rather uninspired to write anything. Life has been quite dull (what else is new?). My friends are heading off to university and college, and I'm parking off at home, trying to study 4 hours a day (right now I'm managing about 2.5hrs).

Murphy has been up to his tricks as usual, and despite the wonderful (yet hot) weather, I've been unable to fly as the plane is undergoing some maintanance (again, what else is new?). So now I sit around the house or at the airfiled, and study occasionally. I'm writing Flight Planning and ATG next month. Hold thumbs for me!

Throughout the month there have been times when I've had good ideas for a blog post, but in typical Me-fashion, I didn't write them down and now I've forgotten what they were. I'm so clever!

On Saturday I played some airsoft. It's the second time I've played, and - like the first time - it made me realise how horribly unfit I am. But it was still fun. Hmmm, new laptop, or airsoft gear? Decisions, decisions.

There have been quite a few fires in the Cape, but I have yet to see my beloved Huey's in action, which is extremely disappointing. At the airfield, we keep missing each other. It's annoying. Now have I seen the Dromader's in action. I've never actually seen one putting out fires or spraying crops. That's pathetic.

So yes, there you have it. Aren't you lucky.

Sunsets. . .

2011-01-07T18:22:00.002+02:00

... are quite something. Sitting outside, listening to near silence while watching the sun sink below the horizon is a truly amazing experience.

Watching them from the air is almost as good as watching from the ground. I say ‘almost’ because one can’t generally watch the entire sunset unless they are night rated, or flying with someone who is night rated. And the drone of the engine eliminates that near silence, effectively removing some of the awesomeness.

Yesterday (Thursday) evening I had the opportunity to witness a sunset from the cockpit of a Jabiru, on an – almost – perfectly still evening. Cruising overhead vineyards, we had the beautiful green mountains on the one side, and the calm blue sea on the other, the sun slowly making its way below the horizon. It was one of those “Why didn’t I bring my camera with?!” moments. (Flying the Jab was almost as nice as watching the sunset.)

But whether you watch sunsets from the ground or from the air, they are always beautiful. They’re just another one of those things that happen every day (or evening if you want to be more specific), yet every time I take the time out to witness this amazing event, a small smile appears on my face and I think “Wow, that was absolutely stunning! I’m glad that I could witness it.”

Radio Calls and New Year's Resolutions

2011-01-03T14:37:00.004+02:00

It was the last day of 2010, so I figured "Hey, the weather isn't too bad, I should go fly." Great. After visiting Fisantekraal for a circuit and a go-around, I decided that the wind wasn't doing anything for me, so I made my way to Paarl. After that I thought a cruise around Franschhoek Valley would be nice.

It was nice, but it was also slow. Leaving the Valley was great though because I had one heck of a tailwind. I felt like I was in a jet. Okay, not quite, but the Cubby hasn't flown that fast for a while.

Anyway, when I got back to Stellenbosch the real fun started, and it was in the form of some idiot that is incapable of talking on the radio. I was doing circuits and minding my own business when this dolt came overhead, not bothering to tell me what he was going to do; "I'm overhead the runway," doesn't really help me.

But he finally decided on what he was going to do and slotted into the circuit behind me. Cool. We were out of each other's way and I had a rough idea of what he would be doing. But then he did the unexpected.

While I was on short final for runway 01, this oke (who had landed, taxi'd halfway to the clubhouse, turned around and taxi'd back to the runway) decided to enter the runway in front of me. BIG no-no! And this was right after I made my radio call stating that I was on final. Needless to say that ruined my day.

The purpose of radio calls is simple and easy to understand... You need to tell people "Who, What, Where, Intentions". Four little things, but it seems that even that was beyond this oke. Incidents like this make me wonder about the standard of training.

Apart from that, it was okay. Now for New Years.

I think I made a New Year's Resolution once, many many years ago. And because I forgot my resolution about 20 seconds after I made it, I decided that there wasn't much point in me making any resolutions. But then again, ever since then, I've said I'll make a resolution, and every year I've made the resolution to make a resolution. So I suppose that I have been sticking to my resolutions.

Yeah ok, studying is killing my brain. Which reminds me, I better get back to it.

Kind of There, Did Some of It, Got the T-shirt…

2010-12-28T17:20:00.003+02:00

… and the cap, and the metal badge.

Monday, 27 December

I’d been looking forward to this day for about 2 months. Why? Well, for those that don’t know, I’m a fan of motorbikes as well as aircraft and photography, and today was the day of the 9 Passes in one day motorbike ride. Over 400km of beautiful roads and stunning scenery.

Well, for the rest of the group it was, but not for me; I wouldn’t be able to do all nine passes because the bike was giving problems and ran the risk of overheating, so it was decided that I shouldn’t push it. Plus, I’m far from ‘riding-fit’!

So I did a whole two passes, then peeled off from the group and sat at Worcester Airfield. For 4 hours. After sitting around, twiddling my thumbs and watching South Africa get thrashed by India in the cricket, it was time for me to meet up with the group to go over the last pass (Du Toit’s Kloof).

Sitting at Worcester

On my way to the rendezvous point, I noticed that the clutch cable was sticking out of its plastic cover, and pieces of wire had unraveled. Once with the rest of the group, I decided that the safest would be for me to give the pass, well, a pass; the last thing I wanted was for the cable to fail or snap while I was going down a mountain.

So I went through the mountain instead of over it, breathing in car and truck fumes for several minutes, then I had to go through a toll gate when I got to the other side. Brilliant.

So I’m feeling a bit disappointed. At least I had a great breakfast, and got to ride the BMW R60/5. It’s probably the longest trip that bike has done ever since my dad bought it (I think that was over 6 years ago). Next time I want to do it on something that can go 120km/h without overheating. And I want to do all 9 passes and earn my shirt, cap and badge!

Happiest Time of the Year?

2010-12-23T22:06:00.001+02:00

Christmas is just around the corner (tomorrow for those of you that celebrate it on the evening of the 24th), and the Christmas cheer is everywhere. Colourful lights in various shapes ranging from trees to bells, to Santa and his reindeer are flashing merrily. Shops are decked out in tinsel and playing Christmas carols, and cheesy Christmas movies are showing on Mnet and the Movie Magic channels. The shops are packed and money is being spent left, right and center.

But despite all of that, I’m not really feeling it. Christmas isn’t Christmas unless you have little kids running around who can’t wait to give Santa his milk and cookies. I’m not a little kid anymore, and I don’t have little kids running around, so it just doesn’t feel like Christmas. Heck, I only put the tree up yesterday and all I could bring myself to put on it were some lights and a few purple baubles. How festive…

Yeah, I’m feeling a little cynical. I finally finished high school, and I forgot to do the thing I was most looking forward to doing once I completed school; belting out School’s Out by Alice Cooper. Fail. Summer has decided to give us 30degC+ weather (as if we needed the reminder that it is indeed summer). I failed my Met exam again. I want to fly bigger, faster aircraft, or at the very least, complete my night rating. I want to get a job, but at the same time, I need a very flexible schedule.

But the thing that’s probably getting me down the most is the fact that I just don’t have the motivation to study. I’ve never been very good when it comes to the self-study thing, so if I can manage two hours a day, that’s good. And I want to write 3 subjects in February. Ha, I’m really going to have to pull up my socks!

So peoples, Merry Christmas and all of that. Stay safe out there.

Jingle Bells, Batman Smells

2010-12-15T21:12:00.000+02:00

So Christmas is just around the corner, and I must say it feels decidedly un-Christmas-y. I made Christmas biscuits, but I haven’t put a tree up yet (I was going to do that today, but I decided to go flying instead).

I’ve finally hit the 100 hour mark. It took me a while, but I’m hoping that I’ll get my 200 hours in no time. I also had to do my PPL Renewal thingamajig, which went quite well (I actually remembered the CAT’s, CAR’s, AIP’s, AIC’s, and I even did calculations using the C152 handbook; I haven’t used that thing in ages!).

So that’s the good news. The bad news is that I will need to write Met. Again. It will be the third time. I think I’m going to leave it for last now. The next exam sittings are at the beginning of February, so I should hit the books, but there’s always something better to do; fly in the VSAAF (Virtual South African Air Force), build model aircraft (I now have three that I’m busy with), lie in the sun, reading, and sit at the airfield. I have little discipline when it comes to self-studying.

I’m going camping in Saldanha this weekend, so after that I’ll try get back to the studying.

Hmmm, ok, cheers fellow readers.

Fire Season

2010-12-04T20:17:00.003+02:00

Yes folks, it’s that time of year again; summer in the Western Cape. Which means that it’s fire season here. And that means that our skies will be graced with Huey’s (doing what they do best; looking good and sounding great. Oh, and putting out fires), Spotter’s, as well as a few bombers (its been about two years since they were last down here).

They’re big and they’re ugly, but I would love to fly Dromader’s/AgCat’s/Thrush’s/Pawnee’s/you get the picture, one day.

Apparently Stellenbosch will play host to two bombers, a Spotter and two Huey’s. Guess where I’m going to be spending most of my time :D

I attended the VWS (Volunteer Wildfire Services) open day at Newlands today, and I was treated to a shower courtesy of a Huey (when he took off the downwash shook all the water from the trees I was standing under), and then a couple of hours later I had the opportunity of standing a short distance (15m maybe, I don’t know; I can’t judge distance) away from another Huey during its take-off and landing. It was awesome!

Fling-wing Things

2010-11-22T19:26:00.007+02:00

Saturday, 20 November dawned cold and rainy, but that didn’t stop numerous aviation enthusiasts coming to the airfield to see what was going on. But, what was going on there? Well, Stellenbosch Airfield played host to no less than 43 Gyrocopters and broke the African record of the most Gyrocopters on an airfield at one time.

The African record was 28, and unfortunately Italy still holds the world record of 52. But was still a good day with a fair amount of flying despite the clouds and odd showers. It proved to be a good day for some networking, and a huge Christmas Party was held that night (unfortunately I had to play barperson/waitress at he event, so I wasn't really part of it). I don't have much to say, so here are a couple of photos.

As you can see, a Gyrocopter is essentially a combination of a fixed-wing aircraft and a helicopter. Go figure.

Oh, and a beautiful Harvard was there too. Unfortunately we didn't get to see her fly.

In other news…
I’ve finished High School! No more stupid school exams and wearing a boring uniform! Am I happy? Well, I think it’s still sinking in.

It's All About The Passion

2010-11-17T16:44:00.000+02:00

How many times have you started something, and then not completed it? Like that book, that blog, that song, that website, that portfolio, that DIY project, that degree, that homework (shudder), that shopping list? Guilty of any of that? I know I am.

But why do we do that? Why do we start something, and hardly ever finish it? Laziness? Well yes, I am extremely lazy, but I still manage to get some things done. Like sit on the couch, drink coffee and watch TV... Ok, so laziness is definately part of it. But the other part - the more significant part - of the human-being's lack of 'task-completion' is due to a lack of passion (in my opinion).

It's really quite simple. Those that go far in life are passionate about what they do (or they've had no other option but to do what they do). It's psychological; you can't be great at something if you don't have the Will, the Drive, and the Passion to be great at it. Take writing a book for example: I'm very good at coming up with an opening line and a closing paragraph. Awesome, but what about the rest of it? No matter how much I try think of a good story, I'm hardly ever able to write more than a page. Now, that's not due to a lack of imagination, but rather a lack of passion: Why am I writing this story? Do I plan on ever finishing it? The short answer is No, I don't actually plan on making it something worth reading, so why bother finishing it. Heck, why bother starting it?

The same goes for blogs and stuff. I think I must have about 5 blogs floating around the interwebs, most with no more than two (rather pointless and boring) entries. How does this tie in with The Flying Fish, you might ask. Well. . .

Flying is all about passion. Because without passion, you probably won't get anywhere. As I've mentioned before, becoming a pilot isn't easy. Especially if you want to work overseas. Picture this: PPL (7 subjects), CPL (8 subjects), ATPL (not sure of how many subjects, but it's probably about 7). But wait, there's more! Should you want to work in Europe you need to get another license (which means more subjects). And should you want to work in America, there's yet another license (and that means even more subjects). So at the end of the day, you have a stack of flying notes that go from floor to ceiling, and your eyes are bleeding from all the reading, and your brain has been reduced to a puddle of some unrecognisable substance that is oozing out your ears. Lovely.

But if you're passionate about what you do, all the long hours spent studying and the pain of writing (and possibly re-writing) exams won't matter. Much. Sure, it can start getting to you and you'll begin to wonder why you decided to be a pilot.

But for me, seeing the world from a couple of thousand feet, or doing low-level flying over open areas makes everything worth it. Getting back after a flight and filling in my logbook leaves me with a sense of pride. Every take-off, every landing, every correctly executed manoeuvre leaves me with a smile on my face because I can say "I was in control. I did that, and I did it well." Every exam passed gives me a spring in my step, and every exam failed helps me to learn more. Every step I take, takes me that much closer to achieving my goal. Every step forward fills me with a sense of achievement.

That is why I do what I do. That is why I've picked myself up after every failed exam or horrible landing (and there have been a few spectacularly bad ones!). That, to me, is what life boils down to; finding something you enjoy, something that you're passionate.

What you put in determines what you get out.

What Goes Around, Comes Around

2010-11-09T16:54:00.000+02:00

Sunday, 7 November

I’m a firm believer that, if you do good for/towards others, good will eventually come to you. A lot of good things have come my way this year, and a number of people have given me some truly amazing opportunities. So I’m always looking for ways to give back.

Being a volunteer pilot for Reach For A Dream was one ‘big’ good deed that I’ve done this year. On Sunday, I completed another good deed; I gave a young man the opportunity to fly in a light aircraft for the first time. A simple act, but one that has left him extremely happy and yearning for another taste of flight.

It's little deeds like those that make a world of difference. Sometimes we get so caught up in our own lives and problems that it’s nice to reach out and help someone else out every now and then.

2 Down, 6 To Go!

2010-11-04T13:54:00.003+02:00

Yes, that's right! Today I found out that I've passed Radio Aids. It was by the skin of my teeth, but the actual mark doesn't really matter; a pass is a pass! So that's a huge relief.

Now I only need to stress about 6 more subjects, the General Radio License, and the Flight Test. And maybe my final matric exams too. . .

Bring it on!

It's Funny How One's Mind Changes

2010-11-02T16:09:00.002+02:00

Things have been quite quiet. Well, on the aviation side of things at least. I’ve done very little flying, but last week Wednesday I wrote Radio Aids, and yesterday I decided to take a flight up to Malmesbury. I had the whole of the GFA (General Flying Area) to myself, so that was enjoyable. I've also hit the 90-hour mark (finally!).

My Matric final exams have started, but of course every time I sit down to try study, I get bored and end up thinking about flying, naturally. And that resulted in me pondering about the human mind...

It’s weird how one’s thoughts, opinions and ideas change over time. A few years ago I was positive that I’d fly for the RAF. Then I decided no, I’m going to be the second female fighter pilot in the SAAF. Every time someone asked me what I was going to do after school, my answer was always “Fly for the SAAF!”, and they’d ooh and aah.

But then last year I started to wonder if I should fly for the SAAF; 16 years is a long time, and what are my chances of actually making fighter line? I decided that I would apply anyway; that way I could say that I tried, and move on with my life.

It’s been about a year since I applied, and I haven’t heard from them, so I think it’s safe to say that I didn’t make it. But that doesn’t really concern me too much. Yes, it would’ve been nice to get a letter or something (I didn’t even apply to the Royal Navy yet they sent me a letter and a whole lot of info explaining why I wasn’t eligible to join), but I guess that this IS South Africa.

But I’m an indecisive person, and I’m forever changing my mind. So now I’m thinking “Maybe I should apply again. Who knows, I might make it this time.” But still, 16 years. Yes, someone told me that as you get older, 16 years doesn’t seem like all that long. But I mean, 16 years!

Yes, I could finish my CPL, get my Instructor’s and then go fly in the Bush for a year or two, then give the SAAF another go. But I don’t know. I’m definitely going to get my CPL and my Instructor’s rating (hopefully before the end of 2011).

Maybe I’m worrying about nothing. If my marks aren’t good enough (right now I seriously doubt my maths marks will be good enough), then there’s no point in applying. Maybe then I’ll stop chopping and changing my mind every other day.

Hmmm...

There's A First Time For Everything

2010-10-09T09:51:00.004+02:00

Tuesday, 5 October

Today I flew in an RV-6. I've been waiting for this flight for ages, and the wait was definately worth it!

It felt a lot more sensitive than the RV-8, or maybe I was just imagining it, or it just felt different because you sit side-by-side (as opposed to the RV-8's tandem seats).

But wow, it's an absolutely awesome machine to fly! We flew along the coast towards Hermanus, and we did a couple of rolls too. The amount of power, acceleration and agility is amazing, and the large canopy promises a wonderful view.

I'm finding myself becoming more and more addicted to high-speed (anything is 'high-speed' compared to the Cubby) flight, and pulling G's!

But, that RV flight isn't as amazing as another flight I did that day...

I took my mom for her first Cubby flight. Not only was it her first Cubby flight, but it's also the first time she's flown in a single engine aircraft in years (and years and years)!

We took it easy and flew along Strand Beach to Gordon's Bay, then on the way back to Stellenbosch we went around the Helderberg Mountain, mother happily taking photos of anything and everything.

The landing, while not my best, was decent; no go-around necessary :)

After the flight my mom was full of energy and she couldn't stop bouncing around for several hours.

'Twas a good day.

Farewell, Friend

2010-10-09T09:22:00.002+02:00

Tuesday, 5 October

I was walking through Pick 'n Pay, bored (what else is new?), and browsing Facebook on my phone when I came across some rather shocking news. One Nine, the cat that used to live at Stellenbosch Flying Club, had passed away on Monday. Liver cancer. No one even knew he was sick.

The loss of One Nine has affected a number of the members at the Club; we all become so used to seeing his furry black form roaming around the airfield, and he recently took up (almost) permanent residence in the Training Centre.

He is one of the very few cats I've ever liked (I'm more of a dog person), and I'm definately going to miss his visits to the Flightshop every Saturday morning.

So, Farewell One Nine, have fun catching mice in the big hanger in the sky.

AAD 2010

2010-09-26T09:00:00.002+02:00

Two days of jets, choppers, transport aircraft, tanks, trucks, wind, and loads of sun.

I was going to have a massive write-up of the event, but I'm still trying to recover from exhaustion and my sunburn. And I don't really have much to write about.

I got quite trigger happy (the only disadvantage of having a good camera is that 'continuous shot' function; click click click click click click click), and clearly I still have a lot to learn about the new camera - most of my photos were either far too dark, or extremely blurry. But, practice makes perfect.

I found some of the displays boring, and I was quite disappointed when a lot of the American stuff didn't fly. I was really looking forward to seeing the C-5 Galaxy, and the Sea Stallion.

The C-27J display made everything worth it though. The pilots of that aircraft really know how to fly it, and their display was absolutely amazing! Who would've thought that a transport aircraft could do those things (rolls, knife edge, and all sorts of other amazing manoeuvres)?!

I felt a bit uneasy when the Americans did their simulation of an F-16 pilot that had ejected; seeing that black cloud of smoke simulating the F-16's impact into the ground looked a lot like the cloud of smoke that appeared when the Lightning crashed at TFDC last year.

Now, time for me to rest and to sort through my photos.

My First Helicopter Flight

2010-09-23T14:52:00.007+02:00

Tuesday, 21 September

My day kicked off with a flight in a Cessna Citation CJ4. It’s the first one in South Africa. Saying that it’s luxurious doesn’t quite tell the reader how fancy it is. I don’t have any photos of the inside of it, so a quick description will suffice.

You can have 8 pax. Two sit sideways, facing the door, two sit facing backwards, and four sit facing forwards. There are three mini TV screens, so you can watch movies, listen to music, or open up a really cool map that shows you where you are.

The seats are comfortable and the isle is lower than the seats, so one doesn’t have to hunch over when they’re out of their seat. And it has a toilet. A real one. This is important ;)

The other funky thing about this aircraft is that it goes high and fast. How does mach 0.7 at 40 000ft sound? Mmm, yes.

The acceleration is phenomenal, and on take-off, I was thrown forward in my seat (I was facing backwards). Even after take-off, you could feel the acceleration forcing you out of (in my case) or into your seat, and they actually had to come back on the power a bit.

The flight itself wasn’t all that interesting. The CJ4 is the jet to have if you want to travel in style.

My luck keeps getting better and better…

Shortly after we had landed, I found out that I was going on a helicopter flight. This is something I’ve wanted to do for years, but I always missed out on the opportunity.

Imagine my joy when I saw I would be flying in the Eurocopter EC145. This toy is huge; it can carry 8 pax, and there’s loads of space (it can be used as a rescue helicopter and all sorts of things). The price tag is also quite huge: 7 million Euros. I’ll take two.

I was excited; who gets to say that their first helicopter flight was in an EC145?! I would’ve been more excited if I could’ve flown it a bit, but beggars can’t be choosers.

As we took off, there was a huge grin on my face. The sensation of going up, backwards and to the side all at the same time was quite something. But once we had climbed away, the excitement vanished; it felt like a regular aircraft.

The thing is a computer; it practically flies itself. You don’t have to touch the anti-torque pedals, and when hovering you can take your hand off the cyclic and the heli won’t budge.

The only thing I liked apart from the take-off was the sense of freedom; we thought there was a whale, so the pilot simply did a 180 degree turn, descended to a couple of hundred feet above the sea, and slowed right down. Not really something I’d try in a Cessna 152. (The whale turned out to be a whole lot of seaweed).

Even the hovering wasn’t all that spectacular. Neither was the landing (well done to the pilot for battling with the strong wind).

Maybe if I get to fly a helicopter, hover, fly backwards, and do all of that other cool stuff, I’ll enjoy it more. But that flight was really a disappointment.

Excited...

2010-09-18T09:33:00.002+02:00

... doesn't even begin to cover it!

Four words: Africa Aerospace and Defence.
YES! I've been looking forward to this event for the whole year, and now it's (finally) just a few days away.

The first few photos have been coming in, and things are looking absolutely A.W.E.S.O.M.E! There's going to be loads of USAF aircraft participation, and I'm really looking forward to seeing the massive CH-53 Sea Stallion.

What's better than being able to attend this show? Having a media pass. Oh yes. After weeks of procrastination, I decided to apply for media accreditation... the day before the cut-off date. And, my application was successful, surprisingly enough.

Next week is going to be incredibly busy, but I'm looking forward to it. As this is the last year AAD is going to be held at Ysterplaat, I'm sure they're going to make sure it's one of the best.

Monday must arrive now!!!

Lucky Fish!

2010-09-13T12:44:00.001+02:00

11 September

Another boring Saturday, spent sitting at work attempting to study, right? Well, yes and no. I did sit at work (yawn), and I did attempt to study (double yawn), but once work finished, things got a whole lot more exciting!

Today the de Havilland Centenary Celebration was held at Stellenbosch Flying Club. Raffle tickets were being sold, and everyone who bought tickets stood a chance of flying in a Tiger Moth or Chipmunk.

After work, I was ordering lunch when I was asked if I'd like to go for a flight in a Super Cub. Is that a trick question?! 30 minutes later found me strapping myself into the front seat of the great white beast. We flew to Strand, then back to Stellenbosch via the Helderberg gap. Once at Stellenbosch we did 3 circuits. It was on downwind of the first circuit that both pilot and I realised he had forgotten to show me where the flap selector is. Hee hee, it's little things like that that make flying fun.

The circuits went alright, but it was definately a different experience for me. The Super Cub has loads of power, and I found the controls to be extremely heavy. If I'm honest, I much preferred flying the Tiger. But it was still an awesome flight and I thoroughly enjoyed the new experience.

The Raffle took place just before 5pm, and guess who's ticket was the first to be drawn... Yup! I won a flight in a Tiger Moth. So I found myself being strapped into a taildragger for the second time that day. The fligt took us anti-clockwise around the Helderberg Mountain, then back to Stellenbosch. Short and sweet.

I had barely unstrapped myself from the Tiger when I was asked if I'd like to fly in a Citabria and take some air-to-air photos of the other aircraft. Of course I was up for a flight, and I rushed off to find my camera.

And so I found myself being strapped into a taildragger for the third time that day. It's got quite a large cockpit, and it's incredibly comfortable. After take-off we headed south to Somerset West and puttered around while waiting for the Tiger's to come along. I felt like police chopper pilots must feel; circling overhead the houses. It was actually quite cool. And it was also great not having to do any work; I just sat back, relaxed, and watched the world go by.

After a bit of waiting and a few steep turns, Tiger Moth ZS-PCW came along, and we flew alongside her for a couple of minutes while I took photo after photo. Tiger Moth ZS-DNR then came along and we flew in formation once again while the camera fired away. I'm a bit trigger-happy.

Unfortunately we didn't manage to fly in formation with the Chipmunk and the other Tiger Moth. But the flight was spectacular, and I've decided I quite like this whole air-to-air photography thing!

It had been a beautiful day so far with clear skies and little to no wind. What better way to end a great day than with a flight in the Cubby as the sun starts to set? And so I found myself sitting in the FOURTH taildragger that day! This time with my old instructor sitting in front of me (the poor guy hasn't flown the Cubby in ages).

After 3 circuits and 3 somewhat dodgey landings (two of which were mine. Whoops), I was on the ground once again. This time I'd be staying there. After tucking the plane in for the night, I realised for the first time just how tired I was! Which is no surprise, really.

I consider myself extremely lucky to be given the opportunity to fly in 4 different taildraggers in the space of about 3 hours (and I can log three of the flights!). A big thank you to the pilots, and everyone else that made the day so awesome!

de Havilland aircraft flying that day:
Tiger Moth's:
ZS-DNP
ZS-DNR
ZS-PCW

Chipmunk:
ZS-DHC

Aircraft flown in:
Super Cub
Tiger Moth ZS-DNP
Citabria ZS-FKL
Cubby ZU-DVR

Nice surprise

2010-09-04T21:31:00.003+02:00

I was sitting at the airfield, bored out of my braincell, and feeling rather 'pap' when I overhead someone saying "The helicopter has arrived." Helicopter? What helicopter?! I didn't hear anything! I immediately jumped up, grabbed my camera, and went outside. I was expecting to see some smallish private helicopter. But that's not what I got!

An Orxy was merrily taxi'ing towards the fuel bay. I'd gone from feeling blah and pap, to lively and bouncy in about a split second, and I immediately started snapping away. (I think my new name should be "Trigger Happy")

After they shut down and their pax had gone on their merry way, I took a closer look at the beast. She's massive! It was a cool feeling standing next to this great machine. Click, click, click goes the shutter. I think I have at least one photo of her from almost every angle.

The co-pilot was also kind enough to let me take a look inside. He was quite surprised when I said I've only ever been in two helicopters. I think amused him with my mutterings of "Wow, this is so cool!" and "This is amazing. Beautiful!" So I consider myself kind of lucky to have been able to get up close and personal to an Oryx.

Oh yes, I only flew 3 times in August, so I'm not going to bother posting a flying summary. Yesterday I hit the 80hr mark though :)

I'm All Alone, There's Nobody There In Front of Me

2010-08-27T18:39:00.003+02:00

Head hung low, brain hurting, I dragged my feet outside as I thought about the exam I had just written; Maths. Ugh! Morale had hit rock bottom, so I took my phone out in the hopes that something exciting was happening on Facebook. I slid my phone open and saw that there was a calender event. Confused (I don't normally set these things), I opened it. "Went solo".

A smile instantly appeared on my face as I remembered one of the biggest, happiest days of my life. All thoughts of maths vanished, and there was a spring in my step as I walked to the car. "It's been a year since I first went solo. Woohoo. I'm giving myself the day off! I'm going to go for a flight!"

Well, I did give myself the day off, but I didn't get to fly; Murphy was at it again and the wind was really pumping. So I decided to leave the Yellow Beast in her hanger and take photos instead. I wish that I had photos after I'd gone solo, or that I'd been chucked in muddy water, or something, but I don't have any physical evidence of that day. I do however, remember it quite well...

27 August 2009

We'd been doing a couple of circuits and things were going well. It was one of those days that just make you feel good! My landings were respectable and I was really enjoying myself. On the Downwind leg of one of the circuits, my Instructor said that I must make it a full-stop. I didn't want to leave the air, but I grudgingly said "Alright then"; I didn't want to question his decision.

I landed with a somewhat heavy heart and vacated Runway 19, wishing I was still in the air. As we neared the Clubhouse, my instructor said "Ok, from now on, you will be Student Delta Victor Romeo."
"Uhm, ok?" Was this some kind of exercise? A test?
"I'm going to jump out, and I want you to taxi around a bit, then do a circuit."
"Uuhh... Wait. WHAT?!"
We stopped in front of the Clubhouse.
"I'm going to get out now."
"And you want me to... taxi?"
"Yes."
"And...?"
"And then I want you to take off."
"... WHAT?!?!"

My jaw dropped and I must've looked like a fish (haha, Flying Fish. Anyway). Was this guy actually serious? I looked at him and saw that he was already half way out of the plane. Mouth still hanging open, I looked from him, to the my hand (which was resting on the throttle), to the windsock. It was completely vertical; not a breath of wind. I looked back to my Instructor and saw him standing there, looking at me rather expectantly. I quickly snapped my mouth closed and tried to regain some normal brain function. That done, I said the first thing that came to my mind.

"I can't."
"Why not?"
"My dad will kill me; he said he wants to be here when I go solo."
"I've already spoken to him."
"Are you serious?! ... Do you think I'm ready?"
"If I didn't think you were, I wouldn't let you do this."
"True."

I glanced at the windsock. It hadn't moved.

"Taxi around a bit and if you don't feel happy, go back to the hanger. If you're alright; take off."
"Ok... Student DVR?"
"Yep. I'll talk to you on the radio just now."

And then, he was gone. Thoughts of 'Solo? Go solo? Is he mad?' kept racing through my mind. I remembered what he had said; taxi around. Snapping my mouth closed once again (why does it keep falling open?), I had a quick look around to make sure I wouldn't hit anything, took my feet off the brakes, and slowly opened the throttle just enough to get the plane moving.

As I taxi'd around I started thinking 'No way! Solo. Really? No way! Solo?!' I taxi'd past the clubhouse again and glanced at the windsock. It was just hanging there. "Ok, lets give this a go," I said out loud to myself.

I taxi'd to the threshold of runway 19 and ran through every checklist I could remember; Just in case. (But even so, there isn't much to check when flying the Cubby. The joys of basic aircraft). Checks done, I listened on the radio to make sure that there wasn't a lot of traffic. Luckily, there was only a Tiger Moth that had just joined overhead.

"Stellenbosch Traffic, Student Delta Victor Romeo entering and backtracking runway 19."
I entered the runway in a haste, but then I reminded myself that I had right of way, and I mustn't rush; this is my time. I lined up, being sure to try and be on the centerline. I glanced to my right and checked the windsock one more time; nothing.

Taking a breath, I slowly opened the power and pushed the stick forward simultaneously. "I can do this, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this. Why isn't my tail going up?!" Checked the speed, looked outside. "Aaaah! About to go onto the grass!" Speed was alright and the tail was starting to come up, so I gently pulled the stick back a bit and raised the nose, applying some left rudder so that I would leave the black stuff and go 'farming'. "Wow! That was a close one! Hey, I'm flying! ... Wow, I never realised how big this cockpit is without someone sitting in front of me."

It's amazing how we think of the most random things at the most random of times. I decided to stop day-dreaming (ok, I was actualy about to break into song), and apply everything I'd learnt. The after take-off checks popped into my mind, and I went through them: Brakes, Undercarriage, Throttle-Set, Mixture-Set, Flaps, Lights. (I neglected to check the temperatures and pressures during that flight. I haven't forgotten since.)

By this time the Tiger was on Downwind, and he was quite far ahead on my 11 'o clock, so I decided to do my usual tight circuit as I felt confident that I wouldn't get too close. I called Downwind as he did a very tight Base leg and turned onto Finals. I still thought "He'll be clear by the time I'm ready to land." I throttled back and got my speed to about 80mph, found my Base marker and turned.

"Student Delta Victor Romeo, Base, 19"
I looked at the runway and realised that the Tiger didn't have brakes, and therefore couldn't exactly vacate all that fast. I turned onto Finals and I felt a sense of panic. Now what? Do I do an orbit? Am I allowed to at this height on a final approach? What do I say?! I couldn't answer any of the questions that rushed through my mind, so I did what seemed logical; I killed time by doing zig-zags. Right, straighten, right, hard left, right. My grip on the throttle and stick tightened as I got lower and closer to the runway, the Tiger still puttering along it. "Pappa Charlie Whiskey has vacated runway 19". I breathed a huge sigh of relief and focused on my height and speed. I was a bit high, so I figured that I may as well side-slip in. "Student Delta Victor Romeo, Finals, 19"

I flew it down to the numbers and held off so that the speed would drop. "Fly it down, fly it down." I was going to land deep. "That's right, check back, check back, all the way back now and hold it." I thought it would be like all my other landings; a bouncer with a go-around. The tail-wheel touched, then one of the main gear, then the other. It took me a second to realise that all three wheels were on the ground. It was a PERFECT landing!!! (Or as perfect as they can be. Nothing in flying is perfect after all). The Cubby quickly reminded me that I wasn't finished flying yet by swinging the tail from side to side. I quickly got my feet working the rudders and countered the fish-tailing.

It's an amazing feeling going solo, and it's even more amazing when you execute a flawless (IMO) landing. You really think "Wow, I just flew all by myself with no help from anyone else. That's so cool." I remember vacating the runway and wondering if I should say that I had vacated or not. Seeing as no one was in the circuit or on the ground, I decided to keep quiet. I flung the door open and savoured the nippy fresh air being blasted into my face. It was invigorating; the sun was setting, the air was crisp and fresh, and the adrenalin was pumping!

I taxi'd the short distance to the hanger without incident and shut-down. After I had jumped out I just stood there, thinking. My instuctor walked up to me and I looked at him before packing out laughing. I couldn't stop saying "Wow" and "I can't believe I just went solo!" I think he was impressed; he didn't even make me put the covers and everything on the plane. I bounced off to the clubhouse, trying to contain my grin; there were a lot of people there and I didn't want to seem smug.

When I walked through the gate they all looked at me and started congratulating me. I didn't really know what to do, so I just kept saying "Thanks" and "That was so amazing" and shook a bunch of people's hands and got a whole lot of hugs. I got my dad on the phone and he couldn't stop saying how proud he is, and at one point it really seemed to hit home for me, and I almost started crying from the realisation at what I'd done. Solo in a tail-dragger at the tender age of 17. That's something.

By now I couldn't keep the grin off my face, but the adrenalin was starting to wear off; I was cold, tired and hungry, and I still had 3 hours of radio lectures to get through. I ended up dozing in the lectures, smiling every now and then when I thought about my flight and whispered "Solo!" to myself, followed by a quiet, goofy little giggle. I also realised that that one, short little flight had made every failed exam worth it.

And now here I am, one year later with a Com subject passed and almost 80 hours behind my name. Life, she is pretty good.

Thou mocketh me

2010-08-24T18:03:00.002+02:00

So things have been pretty quiet lately. I've only flown twice since the third and the 19th. On the 3rd I had a bit of a scary experience; I almost ground-looped the plane. For some reason I couldn't get my landings right, and for the first time since I started flying I thought "Am I ever going to make this thing stay on the ground? What if I can't do it?!" Luckily I eventually hit the ground and stayed there (after a few jarring bounces).

But now I've started with school mock exams, so everything else has been put on hold, much to my disgust; I now have a beautiful Canon 40D in my possession, and all I want to do is take photos. But due to time constraints (and a small memory card), I'm unable to do this. Although, I DID get to go to Cape Town International yesterday, so I took a couple of photos there.

I can't wait until these exams finish:
- AAD 2010 is coming up soon
- I want to do a few cross-country flights
- School is almost over... FOREVER!

Woohoo. That's it for now.

Stay safe.

July Flying Summary

2010-08-01T10:04:00.003+02:00

I’d say that July was quite a good month flying - and photo - wise. I took over 600 photos, unfortunately very few of those are actually good, but anyway. I also flew the Cubby, a Piper Cub, and a Tiger Moth.

Flying the Cub was quite strange, and the biggest problem for me was that there was a delay when one opened the power, so you have to be very careful, especially when on the ground (brakes don’t work very well). The Tiger however, is an absolute dream to fly, and she’s even a pleasure on the ground, despite the lack of brakes. It’s quite something sticking your head out of the cockpit, wind blasting you in the face as you fly the Final approach, alternating between watching the ground, checking the speed (using the primitive airspeed indicator on the wing), flying, and trying not to be blown away. One also flares a lot sooner in the Tiger as it has ‘long legs’. Awesome!
The really cool thing is that I can log the times of both those flights. And I’ve finally started a new page in my logbook.

So, this is where I stand:

CPL subjects passed: 1
Hours flown for the month: 5.6

Total Instrument: 5 (4.8 FSTD actual time)
Total Dual: 29.2
Total PIC: 41.2
Total: 75.2

And Now… I Wait

2010-07-31T11:53:00.000+02:00

20 July, 2010

Today I wrote the Human Performance and Meteorology exams for my Commercial Pilot’s License. I’ve been preparing for over 5 weeks, and I was feeling okay. That is, I was feeling okay up until last night when I decided to check the form with the names of those of us that are writing. I discovered that, because I had neglected to tick the little box that mentioned something about “IFR”, I would now be writing the “VFR” exam.

Why did I make that mistake? Because it should say “If you plan on doing an Instrument Rating, you should tick THIS box!”, but it didn’t say that, so I ticked the other box. Now I might have to rewrite both exams because they are – apparently – two different things (my Human Performance exam actually said “Human Performance (VFR”) ). What’s the difference?!?!

But anyway, the exams went kind of ok. Human Performance was quite basic, and Met was tricky. I think (hope) I passed both of them. And I sincerely hope I won’t need to write the “IFR” versions (whatever those are). Now I must wait 2 weeks for my results. How fun.

26 July, 2010

I got my exam results much sooner than expected. Despite the considerably reduced waiting period, it still isn’t fun sitting around wondering whether or not I’ve passed. Unfortunately I failed Met by one mark (that’s always the worst), but I passed Human Performance. Now I need to find out if I have to re-write both because of the stupid IFR/VFR thing.

One down, many more to go!

30 July, 2010

I get credit for Human Performance! Yes! But I still need to rewrite Met, so my goal of passing every subject first time is no more. But I’m still happy.

Aerobatics in an RV-8

2010-07-03T19:03:00.013+02:00

3 July

You’ll often hear pilots say that; “In aviation it’s not about WHAT you know, but about WHO you know.” You can be the best pilot in the world, but that won’t do you any good unless you have some contacts, right? It’s also about being in the right place at the right time.

I was bored and cold, and stuck at work, so I figured I’d walk over to the clubhouse and get myself a cup of tea. As I was leaving the clubhouse, a steaming cup of Rooibos in hand, Peter asked me if I wanted to go for a flight. “I’d love to, but I kind of need to be at work. Thanks for the offer though!” For some reason, it didn’t click that Peter is the owner of RV-8, ZU-LUS.

Geoff, who was sitting at the bar, said, “I’ll go with you!” Peter just laughed and said that he wouldn’t fit. A little switch went off in my head, and I turned back to Peter. “What are you flying?”
“The RV.”
My face split into a grin as things clicked into place. “Ok, I’d LOVE to go for a flight!” Work? What’s that?
“Alright, go tell the cops and we can go.”
I ran upstairs to let the cops know that I was going as a passenger, and they took my details down (World Cup security and all that).

While Peter went to get the aircraft ready, I left a sign in the shop saying that I’d be back in a bit, then I went over to Peter’s hanger and admired his beautiful yellow and blue RV. He told me to climb into the front seat, and I did so, settling myself in comfortably. He then explained which instruments did what, and allowed me to familiarize myself a bit. But I wouldn’t be flying in the 'hotseat'.

I climbed out of the cockpit, then settled myself back into the aircraft as Peter did the pre-flight. This time I was sitting in the ‘back seat’. The only instrument I had was a GPS displaying altitude and airspeed (and a few other things I think, but I only focused on the altitude and airspeed).

Once I was strapped in, Peter climbed in and set about firing the beast up. He always told me exactly what he was doing. The view from the back is limited; you can’t really see forward, turning around is difficult because of the low canopy and shoulder harness, and I couldn’t see any of the instrument panel in front of Peter.

We started up and taxi’d to the holding point of Runway 19. While waiting for the oil temperature to come up, Peter told me some more about the machine and how he came to own it. After a couple of minutes we were ready to go.

As we lined up, Peter said that I must follow on the controls during the take-off as I would fly once we were in the air. I loosely wrapped my fingers around the stick and rested my toes on the rudder pedals.

He advanced the power in stages, and all I noticed was a green grassy mass rushing past. The tail came up, and before I knew it, we were airborne. I think the first thing that popped into my head as my jaw dropped was “WOW!” All of a sudden I could see the world around me. The view was absolutely spectacular, and the rate of knots we were doing was something else.

“Alright, you have control.”
I snapped my mouth shut and focused on the machine. I hesitantly tightened my grip on the stick and got my first feel of what it was like to actually fly this beast. It was rather jumpy “Fly it with two fingers.”
“Alright.” I held the stick between my thumb and index finger, and I found that things just felt smoother. What a difference!

The world rushed past as we climbed to about 1000ft. I then made a left turn and pointed us towards Franschoek, being sure to remain below the cloud base. WOW! We flew overhead Helshoogte and turned right into a valley.

“Alright, climb and we’ll fly over that ridge.”
Not knowing how far back I could pull, I gently pulled the stick towards me and watched the numbers on the altimeter increase. “You can pull back more. Climb at about 90kts.” I checked the airspeed and saw that we were doing about 120kts. I pulled back on the stick until we were doing about 100kts. At about 3000ft I leveled off, and we flew over the ridge. Stunning!

We climbed to about 4000ft to get out of the turbulence. One second we were being buffeted around slightly, and the next everything was absolutely still. It was surreal. This plane practically flew itself.

“Alright, shall we do some steep turns?”
“Yeah, ok!”
“Ok, you can give it about 60 degrees of bank, and keep the nose on the horizon.”
“Alright!”
I gently banked to the right.
“More, more, more. Ok, hold it there.”
I held it there, loving how smooth the controls were.
“Tighten it up, pull back on the stick a bit.”
I did so, the nose dropping below the horizon, the world floating past.
“Ok, now roll out, then immediately snap it to the left.”
Feeling more comfortable, I rolled the wings level then (gently) threw the stick to the left, keeping the nose on the horizon. It was definitely much better than the first one. We rolled out and Peter took control once again.

“We’re going to do a roll.”
I’m quite sure he could hear how excited I was when I said “Cool, ok!”
Raising the nose, he gave it right aileron. Wow, wow, WOW! Now is probably a good time to say that this is the first time I’ve ever done any aerobatics. AMAZING!

He then rolled to the left. Again, it was absolutely awesome. Then came the loop. Nose up, watch the left wing, look for the horizon, pull through, clench the thigh muscles, feel the G’s. All I could say after that was “Wow! Awesome! That was so amazing! Wow!”

Next was a Half Cuban Eight, then a Reverse Half Cuban Eight, then a Chandelle.
“Would you like to try?”
“Uh, ok, sure.”
“We can do a roll. Don’t worry; I’ll talk you through the whole thing.”
“Ok, cool!”
“What you want to do is raise the nose, then apply full left aileron.”
“Alright.” I tightened my grip around the stick.
Nose up, nose up, more, more, check the wing, full left aileron!
I wasn’t sure how violent I could be, so I didn’t actually give full aileron, but it was still awesome.
“Ok, good. What next?”
“Could we do another roll please?”
“Alright.”
This time I was more confident.
Nose up, nose up, check the wing, and told me when to turn, I pretty much used my whole body as I gave left aileron. WOW!

We leveled off.
“How about a loop?”
“Ok!!!”
Nose up, nose up, nose up, harder, watch the wing, keep the stick there, look for the horizon, pull, pull, pull.
“Good, how about another one?”
How could I resist?
Nose up, nose up, nose up, watch the wing, keep the stick there, look for the horizon, keep the wings level, a little less back-pressure, let it float through, ok, pull back, pull back, level off.
“You did all of that. I didn’t do anything!”
I was speechless. I had just rolled an aircraft twice, and done two loops... during my first ever aerobatic experience. AMAZING!!!

He asked what I wanted to do next, so I said that I’d like to take some photos and I don’t mind what he does. He took control and we did a Barrel Roll. We then did a loop, a Half Cuban Eight, a Barrel Roll, and then a 4-point Hesitation Roll, all in quick succession.

I wasn’t feeling good. No, I was feeling GREAT! He then showed me what it was like doing spins in this aircraft. He raised the nose and came back on the power, the cockpit became quiet. Then came the buffet and we flicked to the left. After two rotations he recovered and we leveled off. Second time I’ve ever done spins, and it was fantastic!

“Right, take us home!”
I took control, keeping the stick between two fingers, and pointed us towards the valley we had come through earlier. There was a lot of cloud, so as soon as we were over the ridge of mountains and in the valley, we descended so we could fly below the cloud. “Fly it like you own it!”
An even bigger grin appeared on my face. “Ok!”
I pushed the nose down and we went from about 3500ft to 2000ft in no time. “Just cut this corner here.”
All hesitation gone, I pushed the stick left, applying some back-pressure, and marveled at the sight and feeling as we whizzed past an outcrop of rock.

I pointed us towards the airfield, enjoying the feeling of flying at 140kts (double the Cubby’s cruising speed). Peter took over once we were overhead. Throwing us into a tight left turn, we descended and joined left downwind for Runway 19. He said all the downwind checks out loud as he went through them.

On Final he said, “Ok, I’m going to try a wheel landing.” It was a ‘Greaser’. We touched down gently and the tail stayed up until just before we turned off the runway. Beautiful.

I learnt that the RV is a machine that wants to be thrown around. In fact, it almost begs you to put some force into every movement of the stick. It’s extremely sensitive, but if you tell it what you want, it obeys you and doesn’t ask questions. “Fly it like you own it” is a good way to describe it.

A huge thank you to Peter! I’ve wanted to fly in an RV for ages, and I’m so glad that you gave me that opportunity. Talk about being in the right place at the right time!

So dad, when are we going to get an RV?

** For those of you that aren't familiar with aerobatic manoeuvres, check out this website for explanations: http://www.iac.org/begin/figures.html

Some of the flight: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CFsJ03cPOE

Do You Know What You’re Letting Yourself In For?

2010-07-02T10:15:00.000+02:00

A couple of days ago I was sitting at work, and a guy came in all bright-eyed and happy, a list of the ‘PPL kit’ in his hand. This is about the third time in two weeks that hopeful beginner pilots have come in to buy the ‘kit’. Why is there a sudden influx of new students?

Oh well. I went about getting everything this chap would need, and set it all down on the counter for him. When I was busing ringing everything up, he picked up the stack of books, looked at me as if I was crazy, and said “Do I need to study all of this?” I raised my eyebrows, smiled a bit and said “Yes you do!”

He didn’t seem so bright-eyed and happy anymore! The more he looked at the stack of books, the more nervous he looked, and he was probably thinking “What have I let myself in for?”. I contemplated reaching down and placing my stack of Com notes on the counter and saying “And if you do your CPL, you get to study all this too!”, but I didn’t want the poor guy to die of shock.

The point of this post is this: it seems like new students don’t realize that there’s more to flying than, well, flying. It’s not something you can master, and it’s not something where you can be lazy (ha, says me!) I’ve spent more time studying than I have flying, and that’s the way it should be. For the duration of your training, you need to eat, breath, sleep, drink, LIVE Avex notes (or whatever study material it is that you’re using). And once you’ve finished your training, you’ll find that you never ever stop learning.

Is it the responsibility of the prospective new Private Pilot to do research and find out how difficult it really is to get a PPL? Is that sort of information even available? Or is it the job of the instructor to inform this hopeful wannabe of all the theory they need to know before they can even thinking about flying? I’m not 100% sure how things work with intro flights, having never had one. But I think that if someone is considering learning to fly, they should first see what they need to study, and THEN go for their intro flight.

I’m sure I’ve said it before; this flying business is no walk in the park. It can be difficult, boring, time-consuming, and rewarding, AND (very) expensive, all at the same time. You need to think about all sorts of things before deciding to start training. I started flying thinking it would be a piece of cake, and I soon learnt how mistaken I was. And the costs! I think people forget that, apart from the actual training, they also need to pay for: flying club membership fees, medicals, lectures, exams, and books (loads of them!). That’s already a good few thousand gone, and you haven’t even left the ground yet!

So, do research before deciding to fly. I’ve found it difficult to come by information, but there is a little bit out there; you just need to look really hard.

“If God had intended for man to fly, he would have given him more money.”

Oranjemund, Namibia

2010-07-01T21:43:00.013+02:00

My visit (21-28 June)

A while ago, a friend asked me to visit her in Namibia. After thinking about it for a while, I decided that the trip might do me some good. So we set about getting the necessary security clearance so that I’d be able to enter Oranjemund (a mining town).

Some of the wildlife

The original plan was that I’d stay there for 2 weeks. But things changed, and I only ended up staying for 1 week. Rather unfortunate, I must say.

I was also meant to fly up. But because the plan had changed, there weren’t any flights, so I ended up driving. Road trip! Well, not really. But I still enjoyed it. Normally I get bored after an hour or two in the car, but for some reason that 8hr+ drive was different.

Silly me didn’t take any photos along the way. Now I have a good reason to drive up again! The scenery was quite amazing. The furthest north I’ve been by car is Langebaan, so I got to see all sorts of new places along the way (just don’t ask me what they’re called; I wasn’t really paying attention to the names…)

By the time we reached Port Nolloth the sun had pretty much set, so I didn’t get to see the scenery (or lack thereof) in that area. When we reached the border it was pitch black and freezing! This was the first time I’ve ever crossed a border (on land at least). After a quick passport check, we hopped back into the car, drove across a small bridge, and were in Namibia. Just like that.

On the other side of the bridge we had to hand over our passports again, and fill in arrival/departure forms. This took a while, but I didn’t really notice it. That done, it was back into the car. We drove about 200m (possibly less) before we had to jump out once again. This time it was to enter Oranjemund (I knew it was close to the border, but I didn’t realize it’s THAT close!)

More waiting. This time it was because my friend’s clearance thing had expired. Apparently. No security clearance thing means you can’t enter Oranjemund. Luckily it was just a misunderstanding. After a quick mug-shot (that was embarrassing; I’d been wearing a beanie for the whole day, and I had to take it off for the photo. My hair was a mess!), we were off.

Welcome to Oranjemund.

After a quick dinner, we both crashed. If I was feeling tired, I could only imagine how my friend felt (I got a few hours sleep during the drive)!

The next morning dawned bright and happy, and I saw Oranjemund for the first time. It’s different. The roads are quiet, the houses small, the people friendly, the shops almost non-existent, and there was sand pretty much everywhere.

Beach resort?

I walked to Spar and found it quite weird to see the desert right there. The place has a bit of a holiday feel to it, and I really enjoyed that. Kids could run around and not worry about being hit by a car, or being mugged or raped. It’s completely different from home. The place also gives one the impression that it was great at one stage, but now it’s entering a stage of neglect.

Very informative. This is near the mouth of the Orange River

I got the fright of my life when I walked into Spar and saw that all the prices were in $’s. It’s extremely weird. Now I have 10 Namibian Dollars as a souvenir. Just because.

I didn’t do much during my stay there; I slept, read, and did a bit of studying every now and then. I suppose that that’s why I decided to go there; to relax. And relax I did!

The beach there is awesome; it’s clean, and there’s driftwood everywhere. The waves are absolutely massive, and the sounds and smells were amazing. I very stupidly decided not to take photos when I went for a walk on the beach.

My only photo of the beach

Little braai spots along the Orange River add to that ‘holiday feel’.

Some of the River

I was also granted the opportunity to sit in an S-76. When I walked into the hanger and saw two of these machines sitting there, I got chills and felt giddy. Seriously. They’re beautiful aircraft! Once I was seated in the cockpit I didn’t want to get out! This is the second time I’ve ever sat in a helicopter (first one I ever sat in was a Huey).

Before I knew it, my week there was up. I was hoping that there wouldn’t be any space on the flight back, so I could stay a while longer. Unfortunately there were a couple of seats open.

Convair 580, ZS-LYL. My ride outta there

I was completely lost at the ‘airport’. Things are done very differently there. My ticket was a sheet of paper that not only had the wrong flight number, but also said that I was flying from Cape Town to Oranjemund. When I pointed this out, the chap there merely wrote in the correct flight number and said “Don’t worry; the ticket doesn’t actually count for anything.” Right.

After getting my passport stamped and handing my little security card thing back in, I made my way to an awaiting Convair 580 with a bunch of people who work on ships. I felt so out of place; every one seemed to know each other. Once on the plane, well, it’s a bit like being at a Ster Kinekor Junction; you can sit where you please. I found myself sitting in line with the wing, in the isle seat (I’ve been sitting there a lot lately), next to a young lady. We were the only two females on the flight. Excluding the airhostess, that is.

The nice thing about this little airport is that there’s no waiting for ATC and other traffic. By the time we were seated, they (the pilots) were ready to go. Lined up on the runway, the pilots applied full power against the brakes. The two giant engines roared, and the entire aircraft shook and groaned. It was different, to say the least.

The brakes were released and off we went. One second we were flying in sandy conditions, the next we were in cloud, and the next we were above the cloud. I settled in, ate the snacks they provided, and pretty much zoned out for most of the flight. The drone of the engines reminded me of the Cubby for some reason.

We were overhead Cape Town after less than an hour and a half of flying. Flying around the peninsula, we witnessed a spectacular sunset. On downwind for runway 19, they turned off the cabin lights. I felt like I’d been thrown into one of those plane crash movies; it was dark inside and there was very little sunlight left, dark clouds rushed passed the windows, the overhead baggage lockers rattled as the aircraft yawed all over the place, and the pitch of the engines was constantly changing.

Sunset in the Cape

The pilot made sure that we knew we had landed by slamming the aircraft into the ground and jumping on the brakes, throwing us forward in our seats. One of the passengers laughed and said “And that’s how you know the landing gear is down.”

Despite the fact that I didn’t do much there, I’d love to go back. I really like the feel of the place; the relaxed atmosphere, the ‘rural’ life(style). While I can’t see myself living there (especially if I had to live by myself), I definitely wouldn’t mind if I got to fly there often for work. Now I want to see what Botswana is like! From desert to swamps.

There's a desert out there!

Birds by the River

2010 Soccer World Cup (Eish!)

2010-06-16T11:13:00.001+02:00

So, “World Cup Fever” is here (apparently)… I don’t know about you, but I’m not feeling it. The sound of vuvuzela’s is annoying, the hawkers at robots are annoying, the need for a SSC and FAC to go do circuits is annoying, and I find soccer plain boring.

No photographers are allowed on the active side of Stellenbosch airfield. I honestly don’t know why; what’s the difference between standing on the one side of the fence and taking photos, and standing on the other side of the fence taking photos? Not much except for angle and distance. Or one could just stand on the balcony and get a nice view of pretty much the whole airfield. Just do go on ‘that’ side of the fence, or the cops WILL have a word with you. I know this from experience.

Four words come to mind: “Stupid World Cup Restrictions”.

I’m on holiday now, and I’m supposed to be doing all this assigned holiday school work. Needless to say I went to the library and picked up a couple of books (ok, 7), and I’m working my way through them. Studying? What’s that?

I have, however, started studying Met for my CPL. I’ll be attempting Met and Human Performance on 20 July. Scary thought. But I’m glad that I’m doing something productive, and it actually feels kind of good to be studying that stuff again.

Oh, it’s snowing. Happy happy! I don’t like the cold that much, but I love looking at the snow on the mountains. There isn’t much, but I’m sure more will fall in the next few weeks.

Charlie 152

2010-06-01T23:00:00.001+02:00

Tuesday, 1 June

Today was quite a big day for me. I wrote my final mid-year exam paper this morning, and I go on holiday next week. Needless to say I’m excited!

Not only did I complete my exams, but I’ve also completed my Cessna 152 conversion. It’s only taken me a few months!

Thinking back on today, it feels like the events happened weeks ago. It’s got that surreal feeling. I’m sure you’ve experienced something like it at least once before.

I was tired. Writing a 3 hour chemistry exam isn’t fun, especially for someone who detests chem as much as I do. After some lunch and a power nap, I headed off to the airfield for my long-awaited C152 flight.

It felt so weird having to fill in the authorization sheets; the last time I had to do that was in December. How time flies. Paperwork done, I headed to trusty ZS-LSN and did a pre-flight. I remembered everything, surprisingly enough. Then my instructor told me to climb in and get comfortable while he went to grab his headset.

Checklist in hand, I re-familiarized myself with the cockpit. I was feeling surprisingly calm. Soon we were taxing to the holding point of runway 19. I realized that I was having absolutely no trouble taxiing the tin-can, and asked myself what had changed (normally my turning is surprisingly jerky).

Sitting at the holding point, I went through the checklist, asking my instructor about things every now and then. For someone who has very little experience in that aircraft, I felt I was doing quite well.

Soon we were lined up for take-off, and I went through the last of the checks. What To Do Last: Wind, Transponder, DI, Lights.
The windsock barely moved, transponder was set to Alt, DI was aligned, and the lights stayed off (except for the beacon).

I slowly opened the throttle, and we set off down the runway. At 50kts I raised the nose, and at 60kts we were airborne. Climbing at 70kts, we reached the circuit altitude of 1300ft faster than what I was used to.

It was weird flying the larger, faster, heavier aircraft, but it also felt so GOOD. Never have I felt so comfortable in that aircraft, but today everything just felt right!

The first landing was a regular, 30deg flap one. The next one was with 20deg flap. The one after that was flapless. Then another 30deg flap, then a simulated engine failure. After the second landing I managed to do everything without the help of my instructor, so I was feeling quite chuffed with myself.

Having done the simulated engine failure, we vacated the runway and made our way back towards the hanger. That was when my instructor asked if I wanted to do a solo circuit. I hadn’t really been expecting it, but for some reason my first reaction was to say “Ok!”. (When my instructor suggested I go solo in the Cubby for the very first time, I thought he was insane and shouted “No ways!”).

A few minutes later found me sitting at the holding point of runway19 once again, but this time there was an open seat on my right; my instructor had left me. I felt weird; not nervous, not excited… content maybe.

Things went off without a hitch, and I reckon I ‘greased’ the landing. Unfortunately I decided to be clever and, instead of running to the end of the runway, I jumped on the brakes in order to turn off at the first taxiway. I locked the brakes and the plane ended up skidding a bit, but I managed to make the taxiway and stay off the grass.

All the previous times I’ve flown the C152, I haven’t enjoyed it. There was always so much going on and so much to do. But today I handled her with ease, and didn’t get stressed out about the flaps and carb-heat (things the Cubby doesn’t have). It was still weird flying the larger, faster, heavier aircraft, but it also felt so GOOD. Never have I felt so comfortable in that aircraft, and today everything just felt so right!

I went solo in a C152, despite having flown one only 8 times, the most recent time being in December of last year. That’s got to count for something, right? Even if it isn’t some great achievement, at least I have another hour in the logbook.

Now all I want to know is: What’s next?!

Reach for a Dream

2010-06-01T22:06:00.006+02:00

29 May 2010

First of all; THE CUBBY IS BACK IN ACTION!!! Yesterday, she took to the sky after almost 2 months of being stuck on the ground. Yes, I’m extremely happy. And today, I got to fly my beautiful baby, so you can just imagine the grin on my face.

*

Reach for a Dream is an organization that helps children that have been diagnosed with life-threatening illnesses fulfill their dreams. For the past couple of years (except for 2009), Stellenbosch Flying Club has hosted a day where some of these kids are given the opportunity to go for a short flight. The members of SFC graciously donate their time and aircraft for these flights, and KFC provides meals for the kids.

In the past (2007 and 2008) I helped out as ground crew, but this year I was given the privilege of flying some of these kids. It was an amazing experience!

The morning was bright and cold. The sky clear, and there wasn’t a breath of wind. After a short briefing about how things would work, I took the Cubby out and did a few circuits to make sure I can still fly the thing. Man oh man did it feel good to be back in that cockpit!

The kids arrived just after 10am, and my first passenger was a 15 year old boy. He had never flown before, and was extremely quiet. We took off and made our way to the Strand beachfront. The air was as smooth as glass and it was starting to warm up. They couldn’t have picked a better day for the event! I was a bit worried about my young passenger, but I relaxed when he started showing an interest and taking photos with his cell phone.

The route we were supposed to fly was Stellenbosch – Strand – Gordon’s Bay – Sir Lowry’s Pass- through “The Gap” (Eastern side of the Helderberg Mountain) – Stellenbosch.
I decided to cut the Gordon’s Bay – Sir Lowry’s part out, as it would just take too long in the Cubby. After flying along the beach, we made our way to Helderberg Mountain and through the gap.

Can you say congestion?!

Switching to 119.3, I was met by a cacophony of noise. Aircraft didn’t know if they were coming or going. A Jabiru (I think) had flown past me, so I decided to just stick behind him as we joined overhead to land on runway 01. There were 3 of us on Downwind and one or two joining overhead when the wind changed and the guys on the ground decided to start using runway 19 instead.

Fantastic! I decided to try land on 01 despite the tailwind, and I found myself passing the fence at 100mph (it was meant to be 60mph). Not bothering to even try get the wheels on the ground, I applied power and climbed away, intending to do a 180deg turn and land on 19.

That plan failed dismally when 2 more aircraft entered the circuit, and I decided it would be safer to just slot in behind them. As we descended on the dead side, 3 more aircraft joined overhead. Now, imagine how big those circuits became! As we were on Crosswind, I looked over my right should and saw a Cherokee 180 close behind me. I quickly asked him what his intentions were, not wanting to be shoved around by the other aircraft. Thankfully the pilot had common sense and didn’t try cutting in front of me.

By the time we were on Downwind, there were about 8 aircraft in the circuit. There were double transmissions and just general chaos! Eventually we made it onto a veerry long Final and after some time, we touched down… a few times. I somehow managed to wander to the left of the runway and found myself heading straight for the grass. A spurt of power got us back on track and we touched down with a few small bounces. Heart pumping and mouth dry, I taxied back to the clubhouse. My passenger seemed unphased by the chaos (and the pathetic landing[s]).

And I found myself thinking…

My second passenger was a very sweet young girl. She was quite talkative and over the moon that she got to sit in front. She had flown previously and was eager to experience flight again.

This time I decided to just fly around the mountain instead of going to Strand. 124.8 was a mess of radio calls, and half of the time I didn’t know what was going on, so I just made sure that everyone knew exactly where I was and what I was doing. It must’ve worked; there were a few times when aircraft would pass right beneath us, but we didn’t hit anything, so that’s good.

We flew over my school and when I told my passenger that that’s where I go to school, she whipped around to look at me, a horrified look on her face, and said “You’re still in school?! Yoh!” I couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the flight was rather uneventful. There was a lot less traffic as we joined overhead, and soon we were on a long Final. My young passenger decided that now would be a good time to ask me about my plane. I started answering her questions and, as we were on Short Final, I found myself thinking “Why the heck am I explaining EGT’s to this girl?! I’m supposed to be flying!”

A bit of wind had picked up, and the landing was hairy to say the least. Thankfully my passenger wasn’t too bothered by it. Another one safe on the ground.

Just refer to me as a beacon…

My third passenger was another young chap. Also very quiet, and also new to the whole flying thing. As were entering the runway, he loudly exclaimed that he “HAD to pee!” Great. I asked him if he could hold it and he gave me a firm nod.

This chap didn’t talk at all; I’m not sure if it was because he was scared or if he couldn’t hear me, or if it was because he had to pee. Maybe it was a combination of the three? Anyway, we made our way around the mountain and headed back towards Stellenbosch.

The circuit was busy once again. Two aircraft were in front of me, and at least 3 or 4 behind me. The radio was never silent, and I soon found that people started using me as a reference point “I’m 2 behind the yellow Cubby” … “I’m on downwind, behind the yellow Cubby.” … “I’m the one in front of the yellow Cubby.” … “I’m taking off behind the Cubby.” Hmmm… Must’ve been that hat of mine.

Random transmissions…

My fourth passenger was one of the helpers; A chap who had never flown before, and couldn’t wait to try it out. Almost everyone had finished flying at this stage, so we had the circuit to ourselves. I decided to do an extremely wide circuit and do a few steep turns so he could get a taste of what flying is like.

Before each turn, I’d say what we’re doing so he wouldn’t get a fright “Ok, we’re going to do a turn to the left now,” and I couldn’t help but laugh when he leaned to the right in order to ‘counter’ the turn.

As we were trundling back to Stellenbosch, the radio was relatively silent and I heard someone calling from the Langebaan Lagoon. Random. Another oke said “Western Cape traffic, blah blah blah”. The rest of the flight went without incident and we landed safely. After we shut down a young girl came to us and asked if she could take a few photos and get our details; looks like I might be in the newspaper!

That was my last flight for Reach for a Dream for the day.

I still wanted to fly some more, so after a quick snack, I asked a friend of mine if she was up to going for a flight (she has a broken rib and I didn’t want her to put any strain on it). She was game, and she was seated in the Cubby 30min later, camera in hand (Nikon, pfft ;) …)

As we lined up for take-off I mentally kicked myself; I had forgotten to wash the windows. Bright one. But this didn’t seem to faze her; I could hear the camera clicking away for most of the flight. I was also kicking myself because I forgot to give her a safety briefing (“In the event of an engine failure on take-off we will…”) Next time.

We made our way to Strand but didn’t stay for long as the wind was really pumping. Turning around, we made our way back to Stellenbosch. My grandparents were there (it’s the first time they’ve seen me fly), so I was determined to grease the landing. Unfortunately the cross-wind got the better of me and we had to go-around.

On the second try I managed to plant us firmly on the ground (ok, there were a few small bounces). Methinks my passenger was rather chuffed; she kept thanking me and going on about how great it was (I think she’s still going on about it…). Broken rib? What broken rib? *climbs out the plane* Oh, THAT broken rib!

All in all, a magnificent day! It was amazing being back in the air, and also a really great experience to fly some of those young children around. Now I can add another 3 hours to the logbook. I’d forgotten how tiring flying could be, especially with passengers. But it was totally worth it!

[Please note that all photos in this post were taken by Irene McCullagh. www.irene-mccullagh.com]

33 000ft

2010-05-18T16:21:00.006+02:00

Sunday, 16 May

It was another early start. Normally I’d complain profusely about having to wake up at 0630 on a Sunday (or any other day for that matter), but today was different. See, I don’t mind waking up at the crack of dawn if it means I get to go flying…

3 words: Cessna Citation Mustang.
ZS-YES, the new toy on the block, brand spanking new, and the reason for having to wake up early.

What do they say about dynamite coming in small packages? Able to carry 4 pax and 2 pilots, she’s not as big as the PC-12, but she’s sleek, sexy and fast! Slipping into the right seat is a breeze; there aren’t any over-head panels for you to scrape your head on, and you don’t have to worry about accidentally kicking the throttle levers because a genius at Cessna left a gap between the seat and the center console so you can just slide your legs in and easily get seated comfortably.

All glass and ample leg room

Once seated, you feel like you’re in a sports car. This, in my opinion, isn’t that great. The oval air vents look cheap and tacky, and the seatbelts look like they’ve come straight from a car; no harness over the shoulders. It doesn’t felt right or safe.

Looking around the cockpit, you’re presented with 3 large screens. Yup, she’s all glass. Now, I’m not a fan of glass cockpits; I like having the ‘less modern’ stuff, but I’ll gladly make an exception for this little beast. The technology is absolutely amazing! It’s neat, organized, and show’s you everything you need to know. A really cool feature is that you don’t even need to look outside in order to see the terrain around you; the terrain is presented on the screen right in front of you It’s like playing Flightsim only it has less detail, and is 100% real (definitely “As real as it gets!”)…

Table Mountain on the screen

Starting up wasn’t very impressive; it’s more exciting having a blade whirring in front of you. Taxiing is a breeze; you need to put some effort in, but not much, and she’s soo responsive. I felt like I was flying the Cubby again because my feet were always working.

We were cleared for take-off and lined up on runway 19 at Cape Town International. Appling the brakes, the throttle was set to the ‘take-off’ position (set the throttle for take-off/climb/cruise, and the computers do the rest). The engines growled as they spooled up, then became wonderfully smooth. A smiled tugged at the corner of my mouth. The brakes were released, and I was quite literally thrown back in my seat. We accelerated down the runway, and left the earth at a mere 95kts.

Gear up, we shot skywards and I couldn’t stop laughing. It was awesome! Before I knew it we were at 12 000ft and still climbing, the speed steadily increasing. We passed over Sir Lowry’s Pass and I was given the controls. Flying with one hand, I found that she wasn’t nearly as heavy or twitchy as the PC-12. No, with a slight nudge, she’d smoothly do as she was told. I was in control for the whole of the climb, and I hit the AP button when we reached 33 000ft. Sitting back, I admired the view and marveled at this machine.

It was wonderfully quiet, quite different to the PC-12. Time flew (yes, yes), and we were beginning the descent for George before I knew it. All you had to do was set the altitude and set the optimal throttle setting; AP did the rest. We nudged the Vne (never exceed speed) of 250kts, and deployed the air/speed brakes. The entire aircraft shuddered and shook, and I wondered if this is what it felt like in fighter jets.

Nudging the Vne

BRAKE!

Gear down and locked, flaps set for landing, the runway at George got closer and closer. We met the ground softly, right wheel then left wheel, and nose wheel kept off the ground for at least an extra 10 seconds. We made use of the entire length of the runway instead of jumping on the brakes (the Mustang doesn’t have reverse thrust).

We taxied to the small terminal, staying clear of a Kulula 737-400, and shut down. I immediately set to taking photos while we waited for the pax. The grin was still plastered on my face.

It didn’t take long before we were lining up once again. This time I could see the runway on the screen in front of me (that feature wasn’t working on the flight up to George). It was awesome looking outside and seeing the runway, and looking inside and seeing the runway on the screen.

We climbed to 33 000ft once again, and I watched the mountains on the screen. I was still ecstatic. Normally I got quite bored on the PC-12 flights, but that definitely wasn’t the case with the Mustang. Within no time, we were passing overhead Robertson, and I thought back to the cryptic x-country and smiled at the memory of bombing around there. As we descended over the Stellenbosch mountain ranges, I admired the mountains and wished we could fly low-level through some valleys.

I realized that this is definitely one jet I wouldn’t mind flying! The idea of flying PC-12’s up and down doesn’t appeal to me because most of the time you just engage autopilot, then sit there and twiddle your thumbs. But you don’t have time to do this in the Mustang because she only has 2.5hrs endurance. J

When I got home and told my grandparents about the flight, I just had to laugh at what my granddad asked: “So, is that the closest you’ve been to Heaven?” Almost. Hopefully I’ll get to see the world from 39 000ft on the next flight.

George

"Dishwasher Safe"

2010-05-04T20:09:00.001+02:00

So it’s been over a month since I last flew the Cubby. I could’ve flown at least another 6 hours this last week, upping my total hours to 70 (not that much, but still; every bit counts!) Sadly, it’s still going to be a while until I can fly the yellow beast again.

However, on Saturday (1 May), I was offered a flight. Itching to be airborne again, I accepted the offer and before I knew it, I was gingerly lifting myself into a piece of Tupperware. Yup, I was going for a flight in ZU-IOO, a Jabiru.

As I settled myself into the seat I found that, while comfortable, it just didn’t feel right; my feet were practically on top of each other, the brakes are operated by hand and situated on the stick which is between the two occupants. But I wasn’t complaining; I’d been wanting to fly in a Jabiru for a while now.

I had a quick look around the cockpit to try and familiarize myself with the instruments. Nice and basic; good, that’s what I like. ‘Familiarization’ complete, I hunted for a spot to rest my arm, but was met by an uncomfortable plastic armrest-thing. Joy.

The take-off run was exceptionally long, and the Jabiru’s thin wheels felt rock-hard and made sure that you felt every little bump on the surface of the runway. The shaking and shuddering was somewhat ominous, but as soon as we were airborne everything settled and we climbed like a rocket (sort of).

I was given control, and if I’m honest, I didn’t enjoy it that much; it was different and I wasn’t used to it. Having a central stick was a new concept for me, and having to fly with my left hand was just weird. Rudder? What’s that? I barely used any of it and the ball stayed in the middle.

The upside of the Jabiru is that she’s kind of fast(er) [than the Cubby], and I enjoyed not having to crawl along at about 80mph (74kts). And it was relatively quiet, another bonus.

The landing was… abrupt. It’s not the pilot’s fault; I just wasn’t expecting it. One second we were flying, the next we bumped into the earth and were immediately met with the shakes and shudders I mentioned earlier. Flare? I didn’t notice anything.

So it was definitely a different experience. No, I wasn’t very comfortable, but things settled the longer we flew, and I’d definitely jump at the opportunity to get to know this little (plastic) machine better.

However, the Cubby is still the one for me!

It's been pretty quiet

2010-04-23T15:44:00.004+02:00

Can't believe how long ago it was when I did that X-country!

Not much has been happening on the flying-side of things. But a fair amount has been going on in general: School is on the go once again, and I'm already counting down the days until the June holidays! I can't wait until I'm free next year :D

I haven't flown for over 3 weeks now; I wasn't feeling happy with the aircraft, so I decided to cut back on the flying until I could have everything checked out. And now she's in the process of having her MPI done. It's been about a week and a half since we started, and I doubt we'll be finished by next weekend. Needless to say I'm itching to take to the sky once again!

I've been doing a lot of thinking about this whole CPL business. I wanted to start asap, but a few people have advised me against doing so, saying I must focus on my Matric year. At first I disagreed with them, but now I'm beginning to realise that it will be difficult to juggle flying lectures, school, school exams, and flying exams. Difficult, but not impossible!

But we'll see. I'll probably change my mind 10 million times before coming to a final decision. So until then, I'll just keep on keeping on.

Oh yeah, saw a Cessna Citation Mustang last night. Schweet! Brand new, with an all-glass cockpit. Very sleek machine!

My first cryptic x-country

2010-03-14T13:12:00.002+02:00

Apologies for the length, lack of photos, poor grammar and typos.

12 March, Friday

I had been sitting at home, feeling down because I hadn’t found anyone to be my navigator for a Cryptic X-Country on Saturday. While drowning my sorrows in music, I got a phone call from a chap that said he’d be my navigator. A smile lit up my face and I raced around grabbing maps, rulers and pencils; the briefing was in 30 minutes.

So far, there were 7 teams taking part. Without the help of my navigator, I’d still be sitting trying to figure out the clues. But thanks to him, we (he) had figured out the clues within no time and we received all the necessary thingies (another map, more things for us to solve and a plastic bag for the goodies that we had to find at each spot).

I had a number of worries;

- This would be the first time I would be flying with someone other than my dad or instructor.

- My navigator had never flown in the Cubby before, and I thought that, because of his height, he wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably in the aircraft (this turned out ok though).

- I hadn’t been to most of these places.

- I feared the Cubby wouldn’t have the endurance for the trip (over 200nm, which means over 3 hours of flying).

- I only had 50-something hours.

But my navigator assured me that everything would be alright, and I returned home happier, but more nervous, than I had been a few hours ago. My nerves increased considerably when I had a good look at the map and saw the mountains we would have to get around.

I decided that the best thing would be to turn in for the night and worry about it in the morning.

13 March, Saturday

My alarm woke me up at the early hour of 0625, and I reluctantly rolled out of bed. I had barely set foot outside to check the weather when a blast of cold air hit me and sent me scurrying back to bed where I curled up and slept for another 15 minutes. In the nanosecond that I was outside, I was able to observe that there was barely a breath of wind, and the sky was relatively clear of clouds. It was going to be a good day!

I arrived at the airfield at 0730 and topped up the tanks, then made my way to the clubhouse to get some breakfast and discuss the route with my navigator. Here’s where we had to go and what we had to do:

- Arabela (take a photo of the helipad at the golf course),

- Pearly Beach (land and find the hidden object),

- Caledon (take a photo of a crop-spraying strip),

- Robertson (land and find the hidden object),

- Some place in the middle of nowhere (take a photo of a strip with a windmill next to it),

- Worcester (land and find the hidden object),

- then back to Stellenbosch (land and complete one final task).

Breakfast consumed, co-ordinates loaded on the GPS, and a rough plan (i.e. wing it… pardon the pun), it was time to “Kick the tires and light the fires”.

We were third on the departure list and had the 0915 slot. Pre-flight complete, I gave my navigator a very basic briefing, and we climbed in and got ready to set off. I was surprised at the ease with which my navigator got into the plane; it seemed his height wouldn’t be a problem. We set off towards the holding point of runway 19 to do our run-ups.

We were suddenly bumped up to second-in-line when the two ladies that were meant to leave before us experienced some trouble. My nerves ebbed away as we lined up for take-off, and they vanished completely as soon as we took to the air. Brakes, Undercarriage, Throttle, Temps & Pressures, Flaps, Lights. We were off!

Our first task: climb and get over Sir Lowry’s Pass. My nerves returned when we saw the weather; the clouds were rolling in from the coast. But we decided to see what things looked like on the other side of Sir Lowry’s. We encountered some light drizzle just before the Pass, but things looked alright on the other side; the cloud base was still significantly higher than the mountains and hills we had to get over and around.

Arabela was our first ‘stop’. We arrived overheard the golf course in – what felt like – no time and orbited overhead, trying to spot the helipad. Many orbits later, we were still at a complete loss as to where it was, and decided to move on to the next spot: Pearly Beach.

My navigation skills are pathetic (hence the navigator), but we arrived at Hermanus and cruised around the mountains before heading along the coast to Pearly Beach. The weather wasn’t that great, but we were still safe. Within 2nm of Pearly Beach, we encountered more drizzle, and the cloud was closing in fast. It was time for me to make my first big decision: descend and push on (and run the risk of ‘bumping’ into the earth), or fly where the cloud base was still quite high.

We headed to clearer skies, the looming rain close behind. Climbing to about 3000ft, we snuck over a low part of the mountains and set course for Caledon and considerably clearer skies. Upon reaching Caledon, we immediately spotted the crop-spraying strip and snapped a few photos before making our way over the town and towards Robertson.

I was still breathing heavily after our encounter with the clouds, but the skies ahead were clear of low cloud and I managed to relax and enjoy the flight. Climbing to 4000ft, we flew through a valley and were soon greeted with the wonderful sight of pristine blue skies. Unfortunately the little hills and ridges around Robertson presented us with some turbulence, and my navigator kept telling me to “Fly nicely!”

It was my second time here; the first had been sometime last year when my dad and I flew in. It’s a long tar runway, and we joined overhead for runway 28. On my first attempt, I was going far too fast and decided to go around. My navigator then said that for every time I bounced, I’d owe him a beer. Talk about pressure. On my second attempt I was still too fast, but as there was ample runway remaining, I attempted another landing. One. Two. Three. Four, beers! Even after all that, I still ended up doing a go-around. I set up for “Take 3” and gave some other pilots a good laugh.

I extended my final approach and did my best to just relax. I don’t remember it, but we connected with the ground and, after a small few hops, remained there. Finally! I think we were both grateful for the chance to hop out of the plane and stretch our legs a bit. The few people at Robertson were extremely friendly, and I was happy to get my hands on a nice cup of coffee (though perhaps I was a bit too eager as I ended up burning my tongue. You think I would’ve learnt after my 5th sip of the scalding liquid…)

Here, we were presented with packets Robertson’s Seasoning (brown onion and chakalaka, if memory serves me correctly), and shots (yes, the alcohol). We took a pack of each seasoning, and my navigator proceeded to chat to the people (I let him do all the talking; I’m not very talkative).

After about 30 minutes of ‘kuiering’, we headed back to the plane and got ready for the next leg; Worcester via the middle of nowhere! Fuel, however, was on the low side. Some nerves creeped back.

We were airborne once again, and set off along the mountains. Our next task was to find a dirt strip with a windmill next to it. After much looking, we spotted it just off the nose. A few photos later and we were on our way to Worcester.

The scenery was absolutely amazing, and soon we had the field within sight (ok, it took me a while to spot it…). This was another relatively unfamiliar field, as I had only been here with my dad a good few years ago. But we joined overhead and were soon on Final for runway 15. Can you say “Go-around”? Once again, I was too fast, but had ample runway. Unfortunately there was a large gravel patch right in the middle of it, and I decided that it would be unwise to try land again, so I took power and went around. This was becoming a common practice.

Thankfully I planted us firmly on the ground on my second try, and we taxi-ed to a friend’s hanger to get some much-needed juice (aka unleaded petrol). After chatting to some people from the Gliding Club, re-hydrating, and paying the landing fees, we set off to find whatever it was we were supposed to be looking for. After searching the clubhouse, we headed up to the roof and found what we were looking for; sticks that had been painted white. Prize in hand, we bade farewell to the glider pilots and were soon on our way once again.

Airborne off runway 15, we made a right-hand turnout and evaluated our options. We could go back via Franschoek, but then we ran the risk of encountering low cloud. Our other option was to head north and, weather permitting, fly through Bainskloof Pass. Having had enough of bad weather for one day, I decided that North would be best.

I soon discovered why Worcester is an ideal area for gliding; we were riding thermal after thermal and were soon siiting at 4000ft (quite a mean feat for the Cubby, with her relatively poor rate of climb). Beautiful green farms stretched out beneath us, with equally beautiful mountains on either side.

As we neared Bainskloof we were sitting somewhere between 4000ft and 4500ft. The pass was free of cloud, so we decided to brave the turbulence and make our way through the stunning valley. There was virtually no turbulence here (much to my surprise), and I was in awe at the sight of the rock around and below us; amazing!

We were through within no time, and I was met with a familiar sight; Wellington, the Paardeberg Mountain, and Paarl Mountain. This was the General Flying Area, familiar territory. Feeling much more relaxed, I showed my navigator some stalls (the Cubby is very docile and just sits there) and had some fun.

Next stop: Stellenbosch. The descent from 4000ft to 1800ft was probably the most exciting part of this leg, and we sat back and relaxed on the way back. After about 20 minutes we were east of the Bottelary Hills, and had the field in sight.

I was in luck (not really); the wind was favouring runway 19, and the ever-constant x-wind from the right was there. My usual tight circuit had to be altered slightly due to some traffic in front of us, and we were soon on a long Final for runway 19. The wind hit us just before the threshold and threw us around a bit. Not wanting to have to go-around, I somehow managed to plant us on the ground. In true tail-dragger fashion, the Cubby immediately started swinging around, and I was forced to apply right rudder, then immediately apply left rudder in order to prevent it from over-correcting.

Breathing heavily, we vacated the runway and taxi-ed to the hanger. After a quick stretch, I checked the Hobbs to see how long we had flown for… 4 hours. No wonder I was tired! After tucking the Cubby in, we headed to the clubhouse for our final (and most difficult) challenge.

It’s a difficult challenge to describe…

We were giving a stick with ridges along it, and attached to it was a smaller stick that could spin freely at one end. We were then given another stick that was smooth. The task; rub the smooth stick along the ridges of the other stick in order to get the stick thingy at the end to spin. Once we achieved that, we had to make it spin in the other direction. This challenge had both of us stumped, and we gave up, loosing points. We also lost points because we couldn’t find the helipad, and we took photos of the wrong strip at Caledon (how was I supposed to know there were two?!)

In the end, we came in third place. I also won the award for best landing… apparently it was a ‘greaser’. Clearly these people didn’t see what I had felt! But it was an amazing day, and I can safely say that it’s been a great confidence booster and eye-opener. Thank you to the organizers at Stellenbosch Flying Club! I must also thank my navigator for trusting me, and for giving advice when we were in hairy situations.

“A good landing is one you can walk away from. A great landing is one where you can use the plane again.”

So What’s It All About?

2010-02-18T18:50:00.000+02:00

Achieving the status of ‘Private Pilot’ is no walk in the park. I was lucky enough to have my dad teach me the basics, so when I started official training I skipped a few steps.

Judging from fellow students, you first get assigned an instructor, and attend a series of briefings. I imagine that one would also apply for a SPL (Student Pilot’s License) during this time. Basically the SPL means that you fill out loads of forms, part with some money, and fight with the CAA. In return for your efforts, you get a license number that you need for all the forms you’re going to be filling out, and it also allows you to write the online exams, and you’re also permitted to fly solo for the purpose of training. But you can read up on all of this in a handy little book called South African Air Law for Private Pilots.

After a number of briefings, I imagine you start with the practical aspects of flying, such as straight and level. Most of the time I had a briefing, then we’d fly, then we’d debrief. It allows one to see how all the theory fits in with the practical stuff.

Depending on how capable you are, you should go solo after about 15hrs (I think). It varies from person to person, so some may take 20hrs while others take 9. However you must have a minimum of 8(?) hours before you’re allowed to go solo. (Please note: not sure if the minimum is 7 or 8 hours.)

After hitting the solo mark, the real flying begins! You get even more briefings, and after a few solo hours in the circuit you’ll be sent to play in the GFA (General Flying Area). After even more solo time, you’ll start with your navs/cross-country’s. Preparing for these takes some time, and weather is always a hassle. I had to postpone my solo long nav at least 4 times, but because of that I became very good at compiling flight logs and submitting flight plans.

Most people choose to work through the exams as they progress through the practical side, whereas others will want to do all the flying, and then write the exams. My advice: try to write at least 3 exams as soon as possible! It’s less stressful and allows one to appreciate the flying. But more on this later. You also need to do 5 hours of IF (Instrument Flying). This is normally done on a simulator because it’s cheaper than hiring a C152. Be warned, simulator training is NOTHING like playing FS9 or Lock-On, or FSX, and it’s probably the most boring part of the training!

The Subjects:
Human Performance
Flight Planning
ATG
Restricted Radio License
Law
Navigation
Meteorology
PoF (Principles of Flight)

I’ve been asked if the exams are hard. Rocks are hard. The work is difficult and complicated at times, and the exam questions are asked in such a way as to trick you. They are multiple choice, but most of the time they’ll give you 2 (out of 3) or 3 (out of 4) correct answers. You need at least 75% to pass, and most exams have 25 questions, which means that you can only get 6 answers wrong.

Note that the subjects are often linked with one another, which means that it’s a good idea to write the exams in such a way that the info from one subject ‘flows’ into the next. A good subject to start or end with is Human Performance – it has nothing to do with the other subjects, and is a little bit easier than the rest. I’d wait before writing PoF as it requires a lot of practical knowledge which one can only gain from flying. The Radio License and Law should be written close to one another as they contain very similar information (such as VFR minima). The same goes for Met, ATG and Flight Planning. I highly recommend using the CX2 Pathfinder for the Nav exam; it’s definitely worth the money!

There are mock questions in the back of the Avex books. Please note that the real exam questions are nothing like the practice questions, and you’ll be lucky if you get something as easy as the Avex questions! Best thing would be to chat to the instructors and your fellow students as they’ll probably have a number of practice questions you can work through.

Another important thing to remember is that after you’ve passed your first exam, you only have one year (12 months) to pass the rest. Depending on how fast you study, you should be able to write an exam every 2-3 weeks.

The Flying:
I think that there are guidelines which suggest how you should complete your training and what order you should do everything with regards to the practical and theory stuff, but I did things my own way and it worked for me. If you’re interested, here are the minimum hours that you need:

45 hours, of which:
- 5 hrs must be IF
- 15 hrs must be solo
o of which 5 hrs must be solo cross-country

The Forms:
Sometimes it felt like I did more paperwork than flying. So get yourself a good pen and practice your signature! Also be prepared to copy loads of forms and run back and forth between the police station (or post office) so you can get things certified.

Some forms are:
Medical
SPL application
Restricted Radio License
Skills Test
Language Proficiency Rating *
PPL application

Make copies of EVERYTHING, and whenever you phone the CAA, be sure to ask who you’re speaking to; things tend to get done faster and that way you can also ask to speak to the same person each time.

*The LPR or Language Proficiency Rating is a short test (30min) where two experts speak to you to make sure that you can actually understand and speak the English language. There are different levels; ideally you want a level 6 as this means you’ll never have to do the test again. If you’ve got your Matric Certificate, you can send that off and it will count as a level 4 or something. I think that it’s valid for a year or two, so you’re still going to end up having to do the test. Note that the CAA will only accept a MATRIC (grade 12) certificate! And if you look on the CAA website, as well as in that handy little Law Book, you’ll notice that there’s NO mention of a LPR! So whatever you do, don’t forget about this little test as it will delay things by at least a week and half (I should know).

Always remember to triple check that you have everything in order when sending off forms. If you forget something they’ll either send it all back to you, or tell you what you’ve forgotten. This results in loads of delays. If you’re unsure of something/what you need, ask your instructor, check the CAA website, and if all else fails, PHONE the CAA!

_-_-_-_-_

I hope that this has helped a bit, and please feel free to ask if you have any questions.
If it hasn’t helped then there’s not much I can do about it, but your comments would be greatly appreciated.

Stay safe!

It's no joke

2010-02-10T18:18:00.000+02:00

So, the bright idea of doing my PPL popped into my head sometime near the end of 2008. Why I suddenly decided to do this is beyond me, but I'm glad that I made that decision. My dad is a pilot, so I've been exposed to aviation since I was born, and I often got to fly in the jumpseat of a 737. However I think I only ever really became fascinated with flying in 2007 when I fell in love with the Buccaneer.

That jet got me thinking, and before I knew it I was researching all sorts of jets and helicopters, and finding out about the air force and all sorts of other aviation-related things. My dad had also purchased a MicroWings Cubby, which I'm truly in love with.

Clever me attended flying lectures at the end of 2008, and I started writing the exams in 2009, which was also my grade 11 year. What possessed me to do this is beyond me (a lot of things are beyond me), but somehow I managed to juggle school, A-levels, flying, and all the ups-and-downs that come with being 17. The practical aspect of flying came naturally; I had been flying with my dad for several months, and I did all the flying on my first flight with my instructor. I did however struggle with the theory side as I had absolutely no idea what to expect!

7 subjects plus a radio license...
Principles of Flight (failed 3 times)
Aircraft Technical and General
Met
Navigation (failed once)
Air Law (failed twice)
Human Performance
Flight Planning
Restricted Radio license

Don't let the fact that the exams are multiple choice fool you into thinking that they're easy! You need at least 75% to pass, and as most exams consist of 25 questions, you can only get 6 wrong. It's all done online, and with every exam the worst moment was hitting the 'submit' button, then sitting there waiting to see if I had passed or not. My met exam was paticularly bad as I was sure I had failed and it took close to a minute for the exam to be processed. I was so happy when I saw that it said "Congratulations, you passed" that I actually jumped for joy and shouted happily then proceeded to run around the room, a huge grin on my face (Met was the last exam I had to write).

At times I wondered why I was putting myself through the pressure and the hours and hours of studying. Most of the time I'd go to school, go home for 30min, then go to A-levels, then go straight to flying lectures, and I would often get home after 10pm where I'd have a quick dinner then study. There were a few times I felt like giving up. But now that I've got that little brown book, I'm glad that I stuck it out.

I often wonder if I would've gone through it all if I'd known what is was I would have to get through. It takes loads of hard work and dedication, and at times I was lacking in one of those departments. I don't know how people can put themselves through all of that for fun. It's a lot of work for a bit of fun if you ask me. But if you do decide to part with your money and get the license, make sure you know what you're letting yourself in for!

That being said, having acheived something so great at such a young age, and receiving so much praise and support throughout the last year has definately made all the blood, sweat and tears worth it!

About this blog

2010-02-10T17:32:00.002+02:00

This is a place for me to share my flying adventures with whoever is interested. I'd also like to give people an idea of what becoming a pilot involves, and how one can acheive the ultimate goal (which in my case is getting my CPL and flying in Botswana or Namibia).

I am by no means an expert when it comes to flying matters (or anything really), and whatever is expressed here are purely my views and opinions. My facts might not always be correct, but I'll do my best to make sure that they're as accurate as possible. If something doesn't seem right, please feel free to let me know. When in doubt, ASK!

In case you're wondering why this has been called "The Flying Fish", it's because I've become known as "Sardine", and I felt that, because of this nickname of mine, 'flying fish' would be a suitable name for a blog about my flying.

Please note that all photographs posted here are my own, unless otherwise stated.

Welcome and enjoy!