The Flying Fish

The De Havilland Chipmunk, or “Chippie” as most affectionately call it, is a 1950’s British trainer. With 1283 produced from 1947 to 1956 , this aircraft gave many student pilots the opportunity to experience true freedom and spread their wings. This particular Chipmunk is one of the Canadian ones. The Chippie, clad in her red-and-white fabric-covered fuselage and wings doesn’t look too imposing. But once standing next to it, you get a true sense of its size and realise it’s actually a fairly large aircraft. Equipped with an inverted inline Gipsy Major Mk8 engine, the propeller spinner sits around 1.7m off the ground.    Pre-flighting is simple. Climbing onto the wing with the flaps up and canopy closed however, is not. Enter the ‘take-a-run-at-it-and-leap-onto-the-wing-without-sending-your-foot-straight-through-the-fabric’ method. Once on the wing, the bubble-canopy is easily opened and slides back to reveal the tandem cockpits, painted all-black with bucket ...

It was with great happiness (and a little bit of fear) when I finally had the opportunity to park myself in the front seat of an MX-2, for an aerobatic (formation) sortie. Before we could get going, I first had to figure out the parachute. The last time I was handed a parachute was when I went for a flight in a glider. I know, a parachute while in a glider, doesn’t seem right, right? But anyway, it was quite simple to strap on, and once I understood what to do should I need to bail out (right hand across chest, grab ring, pull), it was time to climb into the red beast. This in itself is an art. Stand on the step, shake sand and grass off shoe, step on the pilots seat, shake sand and grass off other shoe, climb over the instrument panel, stand on the forward seat, put each foot on the floor by the rudder pedals (being careful not to kick the throttle, or any of the pipes winding their way around the cockpit), hands on either side of the ‘tub’, and lower yourself in. The s...

Ok, maybe not "Trojan s ", but rather the singular, Trojan. ZU-VNM graced the Stellenbosch Flying Club, and stuck around for a good few days. Once it's on the ground, one realises how massive the T-28 really is. And once you stand next to it, or park a Cessna 172 next to it, you realise that it isn't just massive; it's an absolute beast! But wow, does that beast have a beautiful sound. I had the opportunity to do a formation sortie with it (I was in an RV-8, as seems to be the norm). Now, if this thing is a massive beast on the ground, you can only imagine what it's like flying off its wing... It's humbling, and scary, and awesome, all at the same time. Afterwards I had the opportunity to climb into the cockpit. And I'm not kidding when I say you have to literally climb! The view from up there is astounding. It left on 24 July. It's got quite a chunky sound, something to do with the numbers of exhausts vs cylinders. But bring the t...

The most expensive conversion I’ve done so far, not just because of the cost of hiring the aircraft, but because it also involved a flight to Port Elizabeth, where the aircraft in question is based. Before I talk about the Airvan, I’m going to waffle on about my trip to PE. Flying with SA Express, I did the online check-in thing for the first time in my life. This meant that when I arrived at the airport, all it took was 12 minutes for me to drop off my luggage, go through security (where I set off the metal detector thing for the first time ever, oops), make my way downstairs, and sit at the gate. Pure bliss. The only long wait was while standing on the bus waiting to be driven to the aircraft, a De Havilland Dash-8, Q-400. This is the first time I’d be flying on one of these, so I was quite excited (there were a lot of firsts on this trip). Seated by the window, and just in front of the propeller, I had a great view. The aircraft itself is very nice, and the only complaint I ...