LGC News

Several weeks ago Peter Lewis, Roger Copley and other intrepid people got to WastWater and Scafell (above). All made it back to Walney, but Roger then set off for Chipping. Unfortunately he landed out at Haversham.

On the Saturday that people were enjoying the wave at Portmoak (see below), back at Walney Keith Butterfield and Keith Whitworth got to 10,000 feet in the Capstan. Dave Bull and Dave Martindale got to 9,500 feet in the IS28 and Lyn Martindale got to 10,500ft in the Pegasus.

Congratulations to Linda Dawson and Phil Storer on completing their Bronzes. Also to Lyn Martindale for a Gold Height, Graham Welch for a Diamond Height and Neil Braithwaite for a 300km.

Portmoak

The fourth and final club outing of the year to Portmoak turned out to be highly successful with everything from first solos, bronze legs, gold legs and even diamonds - yes in the plural!! There were ten gliders from the club there (the K21, Astir and eight private) and 12 people in all, not forgetting the mops - Gizzy and Snuffy of course.

Following the disappointing summer everyone was fired up for a week away at Portmoak with the hope of phenomenal heights and big cross-countries. So fired up that some were prepared to meet up at Tebay services at 8am on Saturday morning to travel up in convoy and be there for lunchtime and some afternoon flying. Some of us balked at the idea of starting so early and didn't leave until a more civilised hour. When we did arrive we found the advance party encamped in the clubhouse on a flyable but uninspiring day, deterred no doubt by the excessive Portmoak daily membership of £7 a day. The only person to fly was Linda who had several flights to become reacquainted with the winch in the hope of being able to complete a couple of half hours towards her bronze.

Sunday dawned wet with a cloudbase lower than the surrounding hills and no prospect of much improvement. Hence a mass outing to the Kinross Sunday Market occurred. To quote Neil Braithwaite "Raining and Shopping - need I say more." This was to be pretty much the pattern until the end of the week. There were other diversions such as a visit to the Aircraft Museum at East Fortune, A Motor Museum, Bike racing etc. But flying didn’t resume until Thursday Afternoon.

Thursday started very wet with a forecast to clear by lunchtime. On cue, within an hour or so, the cold front that had been soaking us cleared and we were left with clear blue skies and a healthy wind. Not since WWII has there been such a scramble for aircraft!

Everybody flew; Neil, Roy and John opting to launch their "new" toys on a winch for the first time (OK so not strictly first solos, but you know what I mean!). The conditions were quite "interesting". Roger and I were the first to go in the K21 and although the Bishop was working it wasn’t very strong. We had a very entertaining half an hour running back and forth right the way along the ridge, which we had to ourselves. But once it was apparent it was working - all hell broke loose. It is alleged that at one point there was 16 gliders airborne in a band maybe 500 feet above the ridge top in an area perhaps half the size of Black Combe. Woe betide anyone that got out of phase with the pack as this meant turning round at the end of the beat to be faced with a gaggle of gliders all head-on. Discipline should have been vital, but sadly seemed to be lacking.

Friday was another breezy day and again the Bishop was working. Graham Welch took a Junior and managed to break the weak link after a surprisingly rapid start. Linda managed the first of her half hours and everyone else had reasonable flights, including Jean who had her first winch launch in the K21 with Roger. As there was no tug I was faced with the prospect of having to winch launch the Pilatus. Perhaps I ought to explain that my previous winch launch experience doesn’t amount to a great deal and my performance on the winch at Walney has been, well, not impressive. I’d also been warned that the Pilatus on a winch was a bit interesting initially as it can pitch up, and carry on pitching up, even with the stick on the front stop. So with my winch prowess and a glider with a mind of it’s own it had always sounded like a sure recipe for a BIG disaster. Needless to say I was very apprehensive. After having a couple of dual launches in the K21, my turn in the B4 finally came around. Fortunately it wasn’t as bad as I'd been lead to believe. I was cautious, took it easy and only managed to get 1800 feet. (I was getting 1500 in the K21 and I later discovered in the bar that evening that no one had bettered 1800...)

Friday was also the night of the most spectacular gastronomic sight I have ever seen. Steve and Irene had done us proud all week with a variety of fine food in shall we say, "generous", proportions. Alan Meadows had asked for an Apple Pie for dessert but with the rider "as long as it’s a big piece". A big piece it certainly was. It came in what looked like a mixing bowl and was a whole 10-inch apple pie topped with several scoops of ice cream and finished off with lashings of aerosol cream. The deal was he could have it free if he ate it. - He did...

So then came Saturday - THE day of the week. On Friday night there had been much activity with the locals planning 300k and 500k tasks - they knew it was going to be good. I was awoken at 6:30am by the hangar doors being opened and by the time I surfaced about 7:45 there were already a dozen names on the flying list.

Neil Braithwaite declared a 300k around Aberfoyle and Aboyne and set off quite early. The rest of us limped onto the Bishop and spent a while pottering up and down there before edging around the corner to find better ridge lift that eventually lead into the wave at about 2500 feet. The wave was very strong averaging 6 knots or so up to 10,000 feet before it started to ease off. I took the Pilatus up to 12,000 (from the winch I have to add - just to prove it wasn’t a fluke!) where I had to come back down as I didn’t have oxygen. Peter Lewis and John Burdett went over to Perth and got up 20,000 feet. Graham Welch got to 19,324 feet and got a diamond height gain (18,339 feet) and Neil did his 300k to complete his Gold badge and Diamond Goal in a flight lasting six hours and at a minimum height of 13,000 feet for most of the flight.

As most of us had only booked rooms until Friday night we all set off home after flying while Graham, Roger, Neil and Linda stayed an extra night. Linda managed to do her second half hour on the Sunday in conditions that were exceptionally rough. The following week back at Walney she completed her bronze badge, as did Phil Storer.

Footnote: Yes, I did manage to get my trailer to Portmoak and back in one piece. Many thanks to Walter Poss for sorting the wayward wheel out! But the journey wasn't completely incident free though - I did lose the tailpipe off the exhaust - ho hum…

BGA Soaring Course at Aboyne

The week after the club went to Portmoak, John and I went to Aboyne for a BGA soaring course. I strongly recommend them, as they are really good. It's good for us both as it means we can both have a glider, but also the instruction is good too and you get to learn plenty of local knowledge.

I flew first in the Duo Discus with Simon Adlard who may be the new national coach as Gee Dale resigned recently. John had already launched and got to 14,000 feet in the DG 500 with Terry Slater, the chairman of the BGA instructors comm-ittee who lives at Aboyne. However only the first few got away before conditions changed and the gaps closed. We only got to 5,500 feet before the clouds were closing in around us, so we descended.

Later that day the conditions altered again and on another flight I missed my gold height by 100 feet! Still, it was only my third time ever on oxygen and the first in our glider.

My claim to fame however was earlier in the day in the Duo Discus. It was very windy with a 90° crosswind. On landing you have to run along the narrow little runway to the end and stop, leaving the runway clear behind for other gliders. I landed fine and had closed the airbrakes when another glider landed on the emergency grass runway to my left but stopped just at the junction with the one I was on. I thought I'm going to have to be careful to miss this other glider and so thought I'd move over a bit. In doing so the wing dropped slightly (well they are huge), the grass was very wet, dense and long, and yes, you guessed it, a ground loop followed. Simon actually put full rudder on and pushed the stick over so it stopped quicker and probably looked even more spectacular. He immediately started to laugh. He thought it was great fun having never ground looped before. Of course I had, not that I was going to tell him! Whilst in Lithuania I landed on a part of the airfield where the grass was slightly longer, however there was a clump of rag wort which the wing tip touched so I ground looped there. Everyone at the launch point cheered! At Aboyne with a BGA glider you see! Simon said he had wondered when he saw the other glider whether we should have landed on the other runway although we didn't have much time to change at that point. Still I bet no one else has ground looped the BGA Duo Discus!

The conditions were very difficult at Aboyne all week. When I first landed the Pegasus I found it difficult to keep on the runway with the strong cross wind. One guy said he changed his skid to a wheel, as he could never keep on the runway there.

I had a flight in the DG500 with Terry Slater. He was a brilliant pilot with lots of useful local knowledge that helped me when I did my gold height. I managed it on my second flight in the Pegasus, getting to 16,600 feet. I'd had a flight earlier with a guy from Lasham, Simon Larkin. I'd pushed the Pegasus on to the line at 8:30am then wondered why only eight gliders were there. It was very windy and the tug had just landed and nose-dived wrecking the prop and engine - not a good sign I thought. I asked Mike Law, the ex-CFI, if I should launch. I was eager to get my gold and this was the best day forecast all week. He said not to bother as it was going to be extremely rough - not actually his words but Al can't print them! He suggested having a flight in a two-seater then wait until later as it would stabilise and I'd surely get my gold. I quickly got into the Duo Discus with Simon who said it was going to be very hairy on takeoff and aerotow, and I had control. No one else wanted to launch so we were pushed to the front and off we went. I didn't think it was too bad at all; I've had much worse on a thermic day.

We were up for 2½ hours at 10,500 feet when we radioed down and more launched. We hit a particular anomaly where two bars converged at a 90° angle. This happens in an area where the wave comes off the mountains and another comes down the valley. The lift is really good there. Most people only got to 6,000 feet, again local knowledge obviously proved useful to us.

Later that day at 4pm the wind had altered and was less strong, John was in the DG500. He and Terry had just done 200km in two hours from takeoff to landing. They could have crossed to the West Coast and back easily however they had to get back. I got FJK ready and plucked up courage to launch. I released low remembering the previous attempt. I didn't want to miss it this time! Sure enough I got to 16,600 feet. It was getting late and I heard, "all Aboyne gliders sunset is at 6:30" on the radio. I really wanted to get some distance to gain more points (not that I'm competitive you understand) so off I went to Lochnagar and Loch Muick then decided to go to Balmoral to see if the queen was home. She had in fact moved out two days earlier. I then looked at the time and saw that I had to get back and land fairly soon. I didn't want to lose height too quickly. When I looked at the wings they were frozen so I checked that the airbrakes were OK. I flew to the two lochs close to the airfield and started to descend. I did this it in stages. However I was really cold now and the sun was really low with not much daylight left. Then my canopy froze. At first I tried to wipe the inside thinking it was steamed up then suddenly it went completely. There was only the Duo Discus and another glider in the air. It was at 2,000 feet or so above me. I had seen the Duo so radioed Simon to say I perhaps should land on the grass strip rather than miss the tarmac pencil line. At this point everyone in the clubhouse heard me and stepped outside to see the crash! Simon said try to stay at that height as long as possible he would come down to join me. Comments were made such as "that will be two of them unable to see one another now". Also Simon said to breathe down my sweater rather than in the cockpit. Several watchers said they would do it for me! John then radioed to say the conditions on the ground were benign. Simon told the other glider to land on the south runway to leave the north clear for me. Also I had the choice of the grass strip that way. The canopy did clear only to immediately mist up completely. I had to start my downwind leg at that point. When I looked at the instruments they too had misted up. I could only see segments of each dial. I did however land OK to find that there was no wind at all. I was running along the runway thinking I'm not going to stop. At the end I ran onto the grass. The glider was totally soaked on the inside. The wings were still frozen slightly and there was water in the controls and airbrakes when we derigged. However I'd done it and all was well.

I learned a lot on the course. The lectures were good and every flight was great. We have booked again next year as it gets over subscribed quickly as only forty gliders are allowed at a time.

Get yourself on one! I don't think it's cheap at £50 each plus soaring time in the BGA gliders and a £22.50 weekly charge by Aboyne; but then gliding isn't a particularly cheap sport.

Social Sec

Don't forget the annual dinner is on November 14^th. Send your forms (on the last newsletter) and cheques to Andy or Alan ASAP! (Monday 9^th November at the very latest, please don’t leave it until the night!)

A date for your diary - the Christmas Party will be on Saturday 12^th December. Keep it free because, second only to the dinner, this is without doubt the best social of the year. Usual format; Tickets on sale in due course, price £6.50. If you've never been to an LGC Social, make an extra special effort to try this one it's well worth it.

Could I have volunteers to clean the clubhouse and put up decorations please. If anyone could give a hand in the kitchen or washing up I'd be grateful, I've spent more days being ill with M.E. this year than I have been well so would appreciate some help.

Lies, Damn Lies and ….

I've recently completed one of my least favourite secretarial chores - submitting the annual statistics to the BGA. These include such trivia as who's-who in the club, where it is, how many aircraft there are, our fees, how many members we have and their age profile. On the statistics side we have to state how many launches, hours, days and kilometres we flew in the twelve months between October and September. I do this by keeping running totals for each glider (this information also goes into the glider log books) taken from the log sheets and kept, believe it or not, manually on a piece of paper. This year I did it slightly differently and rather than using a calculator to do the sums, I put the information into a spreadsheet and got it to do the working out. Out of curiosity, I also got it to draw a few graphs. Although they were quite interesting, they didn't really say a great deal because there was nothing to compare it to. So I set about putting in the data for a few previous years as well. And then it got really interesting. (OK so it's only interesting if you want to be an accountant when you grow up… and that's another thing why aren't there any accountants in the club?) So here goes; first the annual summary:

Year	Launches	Hours	Flying Days
1994	1274	499	79
1995	1356	555	91
1996	1371	483	88
1997	1386	670	99
1998	983	615	73

These figures are for the years ending on 30^th September and only include flights starting from Walney. Although the launches and flying days are down by about 30% on last year, the number of hours is only down by about 8%, i.e. the average flight time was longer this year. Turning to the monthly totals:

Looking at the number of flying days per month, July and August were significantly down on previous years, but the rest of the months were all about average.

The numbers of launches show a similar story, June, July and August are the worst in the five years, however April, May and September were each the best for the last three or four years and March the second best in the last five.

The hours on the other hand were quite different, February, April, May and June were all as good as or better than any year in the last five with only July following the trend and being significantly down.

So what about the average flight time? (i.e. the number of hours per month divided by number of launches). February, June, July and August all had significantly higher averages than any of the last five years with February being the best ever.

The only other interesting graph I came up with was for average number of hours per flying day, as expected the months with high hours came out tops here too, February, April, May, but surprisingly August was the best month ever!

So what's my conclusion? Well it's been a good soaring year! June and July were the only months worse than previous years but even here, when we did fly the average times were the best ever. Other than that, hours and average flight times in other months are all as good as or better than previous years. And why is the average time higher? I can only conclude that there are fewer people learning, fewer air experience flights and more soaring going on. Clearly the increased soaring is welcomed; Fewer air experience? - Good and bad - less work but less income; Fewer learners - plenty of capacity to teach more people - tell your friends!!!

Now I've got this started I intend to carry it on and hopefully be able to publish the figures and these graphs on the web-site - once I've worked out how to automate it in order to make it a bit simpler to do!

Footnote: Just in case there are any pedants out there, I was unsure about the quote so I looked it up, unfortunately depending on where I looked I found "There are three kinds of lies: Lies, damn lies and statistics" or "There are three kinds of lies: Lies, damned lies and statistics" (both are grammatically correct) even more bizarre is the fact that both were attributed to both Benjamin Disreali and Mark Twain....

Ontur, Spain

John and I went to SE Spain in September. We couldn't book the long ferry crossing so had to go from Dover to Calais which meant three days travelling altogether. Never to be done again I might add!

The scenery through Spain was spectacular. On arriving at Ontur we were just in time to witness the official opening and the start of a competition at which five different nationalities were present. The food, sangria and wine flowed and the Spanish hosts were excellent. The next day was the first task. We "recreational pilots" as Brian Spreckley put it would launch after the competition pilots. On the ferry crossing driving out we met Jay Rebbeck a National pilot with his LS4, he was in the comp along with his brother Henry flying his LS8. The family own five gliders with four out of five brothers gliding. What great guys though and excellent glider pilots.

The first day was a practice day and Henry won with a huge margin beating the world champions such as Leonardo Brigliardi, Guido Fantana, Brian and Gil. Dave Alison the current National Junior champion was sharing with Brian Spreckley on alternate days. Tilo Holinghaus was also there flying the fifth Discus 2 to be built which had only done two flights before it arrived at Ontur. The Spanish Champion Marcos Jarvier was also flying and an ex French Champion, Dennis Flament who actually won the weeks comp, a real gentleman. It certainly made the week much more interesting for us. We were also invited to the prize giving where we even got a bottle of local olive oil. We were then taken to a local Tapas bar to celebrate. We were fed more dishes than I can remember. We had another week or more left so continued flying not that we did a great deal as the conditions were poor only allowing local soaring. I managed to attempt cross-countries twice, one in particular I got very low. I had a good flight in a K21 with Dave Allison my first flight there.

The site is all new with very good facilities partly paid for by EC money, which is why there was a European competition there, to help publicise it. There are plans for a swimming pool and a restaurant in the future. It is in a beautiful situation with a ridge close by which can be used to soar to gain height before pushing off into thermals. There is one very narrow runway that slopes quite considerably up hill. It makes for exciting launches and landings. Landing out in September was easier than earlier in the year; although near Ontur it was not too easy as there are lots of vine fields and irrigated fields with not a lot of flat areas. Once you could push into the valleys to the north there were huge fields.

The scenery was very beautiful with other areas spectacular. It was so disappointing to have such poor soaring conditions, no better than a moderate day at Hus Bos for instance.

One particular area we drove to had a gorge at the end of a plateau with houses built into the rock face. It was a turning point John and I had planned to use if a cross-country flight was possible.

The food is cheap, the people friendly just too far to drive. We met people there who had flown at Fuentemilanos. They all said it is a far superior place for gliding especially in July and August. We actually drove past it near to Madrid, the ridge does look amazing as it seems to stretch for miles.

We left Ontur three days early as it started to rain for the first time for 159 days. It was forecast to rain for several days. We drove home a different way through the mountains, what spectacular views. The Spreckleys only go to Spain twice a year in May and June and then September and October. Apparently in May and June the crops never grow more than a foot high so landing out is not a problem. The thermals will be good then too - a much better time to go.

More Flying in Spain

It was only a short flight; first day at Ontur in Spain and the wind was over 25 knots, the terrain looked different and slightly daunting, the runway was a narrow tarmac strip which sloped steeply, and we were in the lee of a 1000 foot ridge. Rather than risk our glider I asked for a check flight. The Spreckleys were involved with a competition and so sent me to fly in the K21 with Dennis who is a Toothwright but despite that is a very nice guy. He lives and works in Spain and is a very experienced pilot. He has flown all over the area, as he was friendly with Tug Wilson so went with him in the Stemme.

We took off up hill and as the ground continued sloping it seemed we were not climbing, but eventually I released over the ridge in a good thermal at 1500 feet. The flying seemed easy and we talked of the things dentists talk about - Mouths I have known and ways to stop doing dentistry.

The thermal topped out at 4500 and we were well down wind of the ridge so I pushed back up to the ridge to find another. Over the ridge there was only sink so I flew on sure that I would find something, I did but it was 10 knots down. Ahead there was another ridge, slightly lower than ours and Dennis said that there was often a thermal between the ridges, unfortunately, there was no thermal, so I pushed on, through the bad sink, up wind to the next ridge. At some point here it would have been a good idea to turn and fly back to the first ridge, through all the sink, to ridge soar, but I thought of Dennis the local expert in the back who I knew would intervene and sort it out. Meanwhile for some inexplicable reason Dennis was thinking this guy seems to be flying OK, he must know what he's doing.

So I blundered onto the second ridge just above the top hoping to ridge soar until a thermal came along. Unfortunately, on the windward side this ridge was only 2-300 feet high and even though the wind was very strong we did not climb. Time to use the secret weapon "Dennis, would you like to take over?"... "No. I don't like to get this low."

This was a great disappointment to me but I realised that I still had two options left: either wait until the ground came up and hit us or go down and hit the ground. I made a management decision and took option two.

Below the ridge was a huge circular irrigated field with concentric ruts where the wheels of the irrigator ran - could be an awkward landing. Next to this I saw a ploughed strip which looked all right even though it sloped away so I chose that. I called base to say we were landing out, flew away from the ridge and landed, called base to say we were down, their reply was "That was quick".

The performance was watched by Gill Spreckley who was overhead and she was able to tell base exactly where we were and give them detailed instructions how to get to us. The retrieve crew set off at once, six people in two cars. We were five km away. It became apparent that the view from the air did not correspond with conditions on the ground. Five hours later the retrievers felt that they had explored most of South East Spain, both on road and off road, cars had been dug out of axle deep sand, the trailer manhandled out of dead ends and Dennis had walked ten km to find them. I was left guarding the glider and as the sun was about to set was wondering how cold it gets at night in a glider in Spain with only a canopy cover for a blanket, when they arrived.

The trailer was an early lift top design, carved from a solid piece of metal, in various places there were dangerous, complicated fittings welded on and covered in thick black grease. It was difficult to see how the lift top design had caught on. It really did take all eight of us to load it. Yes we were a long way from the road up good dirt tracks, which were not on the map, they did have our GPS co-ordinates but without Dennis's mobile phone we would have had a night out.

We arrived back at base in the dark, six and a half hours after setting off. It was only a short flight, but what a retrieve.

Per ardua ad astra

My next posting was to Church Fenton, near Tadcaster in Yorkshire, which was the home of No. 19 Day Fighter Squadron, flying the Meteor 8. Also flying Meteor 8s and making up the other half of the Church Fenton Wing was No. 609 Squadron Royal Auxiliary Air force. There were twelve aircraft operational in each squadron, which was sub-divided into two Flights, designated 'A' and 'B'. I reported on 1 September 1952 with one other new pilot, and we were both placed in 'b' Flight. Jim and I shared a room in the Mess - what a pair! Our corridor happened to house officers who were not pilots or aircrew. We called them "Penguins" because they didn't fly, and we terrorised the place. Woe betides any penguin that set foot out of his room without a cautious reconnaissance around the door first. He was very likely to be hit by a rapidly propelled bicycle being ridden by a raving lunatic wielding a broom, who was jousting against the lunatic, who had set off from the other end of the corridor. Unnatural hazards in the guise of hurled pillows, water-pistol shots, shoes, etc. were fed into the system by other squadron members, who were there to take over the steed of the downed jouster. It was a knockout competition, best of three falls for the prize of not having to buy a round that evening. Competition was fierce but oddly enough there were few injuries and none serious. Poor old penguins didn't have a chance.

Joining a Squadron direct from training was a daunting experience and both Jim and I were very nervous as we presented ourselves in the Officers' Mess on our first day. We need not have worried. A middle-aged man of about twenty-six strode up to us and said "You the new pilots? Good show - come and meet the boss, I'm Les, the Squadron Adjutant, you'll like the boss, he's a good type." The boss, a Squadron Leader in rank, looked at us over the rim of his pint pot. "Welcome to 19 squadron," he said, "there's a Squadron party tonight, see you both there, have a drink."

Tales of Senior Officers meeting "sprogs" for the first time are legion and true. One Group Captain was known to sit on a bar stool and await the arrival of a nervous young officer set up to rendezvous with him in the bar. As time went on and pints consumed, the groupie would say to the barman "George, I'm getting a bit unsteady, would you perform the usual services please?" At this Groupie would hoist his leg onto the top of the bar. From beneath the bar George would produce a hammer and six-inch nail, which he proceeded to hammer through the Group Captains leg to secure it to the bar top, before the horrified gaze of the "sprog" officer. "Thanks very much George," would say the Groupie, "another pint please." The guffaws from the assembled "old hands" who had sneaked in quietly during the set piece made our young hero realise he was the victim of a prank. All was revealed when the Group Captain rolled up his trouser leg to display a cork leg.

Squadron life was marvellous. There was tremendous rivalry between all Squadrons in fighter Command, and between each Flight in the Squadrons. We were all convinced we were the best and went out of our way to prove it. To those who have never experienced the esprit de corps of an elite unit, the lifestyle is difficult to describe. We were all young men doing something we enjoyed and living life to the full. The Flight Commanders were middle aged men of twenty-eight or so, the Squadron Commander an old age pensioner in his early thirties. The Squadron was a complete entity, if one of us was in trouble we were all in trouble. Penguins were tolerated, but only just, because they wore RAF blue. Outsiders didn’t stand a chance.

This all may sound just good fun and irresponsible, and it was, but there was a serious side too. We played hard, but we also worked hard at our jobs. The RAF did not tolerate any aircrew member who was not up to his profession and would remove them to less demanding flying posts if necessary. This action was comparatively rare, but for the first few months on a Fighter Squadron one was on probation. On 19 Squadron the Squadron Commander had a fetish about gunnery. It was the general practice in Fighter Command to spread harmonise the four cannon in the Meteor, which meant that the rounds gradually spread outwards after leaving the muzzle. Ours were spot harmonised at thirty yards. This meant that you got a lot of rounds onto the target at that range but you had to be ‘spot on’ as regards accuracy of range and flying. There were those who could not achieve these standards and they were posted. Gunnery against a towed target was practised every month off Flamborough head, with the added bonus of regular clay pigeon shots on the range. Every year there was an Armament Practice Camp (APC) at RAF Acklington, near Morpeth, which was devoted entirely to gunnery and lasted four weeks. All the UK regular Fighter Squadrons attended in turn and competed for the Dacre Trophy, which was a trophy awarded to the winning squadron for proficiency in weapon training. The caption alongside the newspaper cutting in my log book reads "19 wins the Dacre Trophy after establishing a record gunnery average for air to air firing. The Squadron broke this record three times and remained top of the Fighter Command averages for five successive years." Obviously the boss had got it right.

The other thing that remains in my mind about APC after all these years is the Squadron Commander’s briefing. "Gentlemen, welcome to Acklington. What you see here, what you do here, what you say here, what you hear here, stays here. I don’t want any tittle-tattle among the wives back at base, neither do I expect any extra curricular Squadron behaviour or activity to affect your ability to shoot. That is all." The proof was in the pudding. We partied into the small hours and exploited the local hostelries, revelries and fleshpots to the full, but we were all there at early morning briefing, bright eyed and bushy tailed. One particular foray I remember well. It was to the annual fairground on the Town Moor at Newcastle and the Squadron turned out in strength to try every hairy ride there was. At one stage we appropriated the dodgems, crewing each car with two. We were ranged against 72 Squadron, who were also at Acklington at that time. The drill was for each driver to take appropriate avoiding action, whilst this crewman attempted to wrap a raincoat round another driver’s head. Once blinded the hapless driver was punched in the biceps, whilst his partner attempted to defend him and steer him out of trouble. All this activity attracted quite a large and good-humoured crowd, who gathered to shout encouragement and get the cars back into the battle with a judicious shove away from the edge of the rink. I don’t think anyone escaped without an armful of bruises and ringing ears from the shouts and yells.

Needless to say there was much more to Squadron flying than just gunnery. Every day saw an activity of some kind or another. Battle formation practice involving fighter versus fighter interceptions, culminating in a tailchase was the most regular feature. In the tailchase or any avoiding combat manoeuvre by the target, one was expected to return with some good camera shots, the more exotic the better. As I mentioned in an earlier article the camera gun recorded shooting performance onto 16mm film which was then projected for all to see at Squadron debriefings by the gunnery instructors. Each Squadron had a Pilot Attack Instructor (PAI) or a Pilot Gunnery Instructor (PGI) and, as the films had the aircraft gunsight superimposed, there was no opportunity to ‘flannel’. In those Halcyon days we could ‘bounce’ anything we saw in the air and apart from prior arrangements we made with other squadrons for interceptions, a new or rare type would be presented with some pride. Many an innocent aviator minding his own business in his own airspace got a rude awakening as four fighters completed their attacks. The Americans were operating F86 Sabres, Shooting Stars and Thunderjets, the Canadians Thunderjets and F86’s. The Meteor had no problems with the Shooting Stars or Thunderjets but the F86 was another kettle of fish as it was supersonic in a dive. The drill was to coax them down from altitude to medium or low level where we could out turn them, out accelerate them and outclimb them. On one never to be forgotten occasion we arranged a battle with an American F86 Squadron with films to be exchanged at the end. We had a ‘phone call from the F86 Squadron Commander before we got his films, telling us how his Squadron had completely annihilated ours. To our amazement when we projected his films, all we saw was an occasional shot of a Meteor flashing through his gunsights at about eight hundred yards - way out of range. We said nothing. Our films had F86 Sabres bracketed at some two hundred yards, textbook gunsight recordings of diamonds enclosing the wing-tips, pippers on the cockpit canopies, everything rock steady following every twist and turn. We got another ‘phone call - eating crow!

Bomber Command at the time was equipping with the new jet bomber, the Canberra. A well-flown Canberra could outfly us in turns and speed. We had to be a bit sneaky with those and try to creep up on them from afar. If you got really close you could sit right behind out of the turbulence of the jet wake. I still have a cine film of me behind a Canberra at an assessed range of fifty yards, with his condensation trail from each engine passing either side of the recording. The other bombers in the Command at the time were large, four engined piston aircraft, offering easy targets in the form of Lincolns and Washingtons. The Americans had an enormous bomber, I think it was a B36 and had something like twelve engines, six a side in pods of two each. The wingspan of this monster was beyond the capabilities of our wingspan selector on the gunsight. We used to range on the inboard engines. One of our pilots decided to try a head on attack on a Washington, which has a very tall tailfin, and frightened the life out of himself. All we saw on the projection was a Washington getting big very quickly and a close-up of a tailfin disappearing out of the bottom of the screen. The clearance was assessed at five feet - PHEW!!

Every summer the RAF held a summer exercise in which every squadron was put on a war footing and played war games. The exercises were international and alternated between periods of high activity and extreme boredom. Pilots sitting at immediate readiness in a small cockpit for long periods, itching to get into the air, got pretty fed up and small incidents made major highlights. It was the practice during exercise periods to involve the whole Station personnel, many of whom were National Servicemen employed in duties on which they had nothing whatsoever to do with aeroplanes and knew nothing about them. On one occasion the Wing Commander flying (a geriatric of about forty) was sat in his cockpit at immediate readiness when we got a Squadron scramble. We were pretty sore at the Wing Co. because he had appropriated our brand new Meteor, which had superior engine performance and improved handling qualities, for his own use. The starting sequence for a Meteor took about thirty seconds and involved the starter motor windmilling the engine to starting RPM, at which time fuel was injected into the burners and ignited by a succession of high energy sparks from the equivalent of a sparking plug (the igniter plug). This was activated by the igniter box, which was situated in the undercarriage bay and adjacent to the engine compartment. You could hear whether or not the igniter box was doing its job by the sound (or lack of), of a series of heavy clicks. If it didn’t click, the drill was for the groundcrew to leap into the undercarriage bay and deliver a smart tap with a spanner, or a hefty kick, to the recalcitrant box (honestly!). The Wing Co. wasn’t getting a start, leaned out of the cockpit and yelled at the hapless groundcrew standing there "Kick the b.....d." The crewman, whose RAF trade was cook, did just that and put his size ten army pattern boot right through the engine nacelle. In a flurry of noise and paraffin fumes the rest of us taxied out of dispersal, smirking considerably.

My own moment of truth happened in my first exercise and was the result of inexperience. We had been vectored onto a large formation of Washington bombers, which we approached some fifteen thousand feet above. My section leader peeled off into his attack and I followed, putting the aircraft into a steep dive. Before I realised what was happening I had hit critical Mach Number and was out of control in a vertical spiral dive. As sometimes happens with relative movement between two objects, I got an illusion of being stationary and the targets rotating. I still have a mental picture of twelve large bombers, getting larger by the second, rotating beneath me in plan view, with no hope of any controlled avoidance on my part. Fate decreed that I shot between two of them, eyes wide, breathing hard. Standard recovery was executed and, in the words of any a wartime aviator, the sky was empty.

Another of our pilots, Pete, had a more entertaining experience. After an interception, aircraft diverted into the nearest available airfield to refuel. Pete was one of a section of four, which was diverted to a strange airfield for this purpose. After landing, the aircraft turned off the runway to taxi to dispersal to be turned round. The perimeter track they were using turned to run parallel to the side of the hangars set back about a hundred yards away. Pete’s brakes failed at a crucial moment and he found himself trundling across the grass towards the hangar officers, which were built into the side. He was about to raise the undercarriage to belly the aircraft when he realised that he was heading straight for a window and would probably be stopped before he got there. He was almost right; unfortunately the ground fell away slightly in the final few yards and the Meteor kept rolling. Pete’s description was graphic. "It was like watching a film frame by frame," he said, "I was watching this window getting bigger and bigger until all I could see was glass. There was this bloke inside writing at his desk, completely unaware of my approach. I went through this window in a shower of glass and broken frame. I’ve never seen a man move so fast. It was like watching a cartoon character in a Disney film, his little legs were propelling him through the air without touching the floor. He went through the door like a bat out of hell. Seconds later, this little white face peered round the door frame." Pete clambered out of his cockpit unhurt, the aircraft was undamaged except for a few dents where the engine intakes had come into contact with the window edges.

Another pilot, in an attempt to get cine gun of an exotic target, was mortified to see it pulling away from him, still in the climb. It was the new De Havilland Comet Jet airliner airborne from Hatfield on a test flight! What price our fighter force when it couldn’t catch the new bombers or airliners?

Web Site

It has been nearly six months now since the web-site came on-line so I thought I'd fill you in on what's been happening there since then.

In case you didn't know it existed, you can find it at www.lakesgc.force9.co.uk or more conveniently at http://fly.to/lakesgc this address is probably the better one for your bookmarks as it won't move if I ever change from Force 9. There is also a copy of the web-site on the computer in the clubhouse.

You can also reach it through links from the BGA site (www.gliding.co.uk) as well as several other gliding club sites around the country and even a few international ones. It is also listed on most of the big search engines (Altavista, Infoseek, Excite, HotBot, Webcrawler and Lycos) but unfortunately I've not managed to get an entry on Yahoo yet. On these engines just enter "lakes gliding club" and it'll find it. On most you can also try some pretty bizarre searches and it'll still pop out. I once tried "gliding in the uk" on Altavista and it came out at number one, the BGA were about seventh!

The "big" news though is that we're just short of our first thousand visitors. The hit-rate seems to have evened out at a fairly steady 32 visits a week.

I regularly update several of the pages including the club ladder, the congratulations page, the duty rota and the S&G news which you can read two months before it hits the streets in S&G. These "LGC News" newsletters also go onto there. Of course after the dinner, the Club Trophies page will also be updated with this years winners.

The club ladder page has been enhanced and now allows you to see the claim forms themselves as well as the flight trace (if an electronic barograph was used). The latest version of my Claimform Generator can also be found on the site.

In order to find out what has changed since your last visit there is a Java/Cookie feature on the what's new page which remembers when you were last there and highlights the new bits for you.

There is also a nifty search facility, provided by Infoseek, which allows you to search for any word, phrase or name on the site and it will tell you on which pages it occurs.

Over the months I've added several photographs which have mainly come from Peter Lewis (thanks Pete!) But there's plenty of scope for more. So if you have any gliding or member related photographs that you think the whole internet-connected world should be able to see, then do let me have them!

Finally if you have any ideas on anything else that could go onto there, or for any improvements I'd be very grateful to hear them. Force 9 are shortly going to remove their 15Mb limit so the sky will be the limit. (The site currently occupies just over 10Mb).

Uncle BUG

I am really enjoying gliding at the Lakes, but I am becoming increasingly worried that my lack of computer literacy is going to prevent further progress in what I thought was a relatively pure sport.

Club members wafting round the sky to calibrate their ‘LC4NAV version 6a’ in cruise mode, and then proceed to compare notes on the Internet when they have landed out – all very odd. There used to be a frantic race to the bar after an interesting flight, but now it is a race to download your trace onto the nearest fiendish device.

It seems that it is no longer possible to lie through your teeth about being ‘6 up over Workington having scratched away from 300feet’. The moment you finish the ground roll, somebody has delved into your deepest cockpit recesses and ferreted out your barograph and before you can say ‘tap my vario’, the flight is being scrutinised in infinite detail on a cathode ray tube! Is there no justice?!!

I shall be glad when the Millennium Bug arrives, and I shall again become a force to be reckoned with as I deftly thumb my John Willy round the skies of Walney, broadcasting tales of stonking lift on my crystal set.

Ironically, it appears that you have inadvertently stumbled into the truth about computers after all!

You know of course (and the BGA will be quick to confirm this), that glider pilots in general are a set of ruthless cheating cads who would likely as not sell their grandparents for a diamond badge.

What you may not realise however, is that the inventor of the modern computing miracle was in fact a BGA claims officer - driven it seems by the desire to catch the lying miscreants, and avoid the thankless task of poring over endless photographic plates.

I am afraid you will just have to bite the bullet, and start to embrace the new technology in he certain knowledge that your flying will speak for itself.

Try as I might, I do not seem to be able to tow a glider trailer for more than a few miles without the thing wanting to fly apart at the seams. It is very depressing being overtaken by the odd wheel, or even the trailer itself, and I am becoming increasingly aware that when I offer to crew, the blood appears to drain from members faces and they wander off muttering darkly to themselves. What should I do?

I fear the worst in this case. It is possible that you have a deep seated craving for excitement, that requires to be satisfied; you have become addicted to the adrenaline rush these events create, so they become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I suggest you try other methods of fulfilment in this regard - perhaps the odd cross-country task with PR in the Capstan? A Saturday night out with Northy in Barrow? A drive round the Lakes with Graham? If all else fails, you could always try an aerobatics course!

We have had a number of readers letters, enquiring about the sport of gliding and how it might be possible to combine the hobby with our own sailing interests. Can you help?

If you come to the club you will find we have a lot in common with you yotty types. We enjoy standing around in the wind and rain peering at the sky, wondering why it is only ever sunny when we are at work. We enjoy the proximity to the sea, and the lungfuls of ozone. We enjoy spending lots of money on, talking about, and generally tinkering around with our sophisticated toys (without actually using them very much).

Please do not be confused by the ‘Lakes’ title. A lake is a small expanse of water surrounded by a lot of land. Our gliding site is a small expanse of land surrounded by a lot of water, so it is more or less the same (and much more to your liking). The views are spectacular, and the sea breeze ensures that there is no danger of thermals carrying you too far away.

Like you, our members have a great affinity for the sea, and enjoy getting as close as possible to it (without actual immersion).

The annual WPO (Water Proximity Land-out) competition proves ever popular, with intrepid pilots demonstrating fantastic ingenuity over the years. The ‘Sandbank Landing with Flowing Tide and Aero-tow Recovery’ is one of the more spectacular contributions, but more recently our Chairman managed a very creditable entry in the ‘Nearest Beach Landing from the Highest Aero-tow’ category.

This inspired a late challenge from the CFI with a cunning ‘Straight Glide Out to Canal Landing’, but this was subsequently disqualified after a protest – a canal doesn’t really count, even if you do end up sitting in it!

I am sure that you will not be disappointed with our set up. Just imagine the chance to pit your wits against those seagulls that have long been decorating your decks - if you publish this in your periodical it just might inspire your yotting readership to give us a try.

I always have to explain to punters the meaning of various words and phrases that we exotic aviators coin from time to time. Would it be possible to compile a list of everyday gliding words and expressions, that we can give them to read while they are waiting patiently for their number to come up?

I agree with you, there is nothing more boring than listening to incomprehensible jargon being bandied about, especially when the only motive is to impress the CFI. I like your idea of a reference list, and I shall seek the help of the members to compile it.

How about the format of a Bugaurus? Similar to a Thesaurus, but quite a bit dafter. Members will write to me with their ‘glider pilot typical’ words or expressions along with suitable definitions, or even possible confusions; these will be arranged in alphabetical order in successive newsletter issues, and may be used as a reference when answering queries from the public at large.

A Air – a mixture of gasses that stop you from choking to death on other people's cigarette smoke, but which also possesses physical properties that usually conspire to stop you flying.

You will find that it is probably ‘too stable’ (see – inverted), too unstable (see – over convected), too saturated (see – nothing, its raining), too high a velocity (see – wind). Do not confuse with the fibrous substance on a Cockneys ‘ED.

Air mass – collective noun for more of the above than you could ever imagine.

Airway – chunks of air mass that you will be castrated for flying through.

Aircraft – usually they are to be found near the bus with a tyre on one wing; they will on occasion leave the ground, with an extremely frightened individual on board (the instructor).

Aero-tow – this is a cross between RAC breakdown recovery and formation flying, and represents an efficient, if somewhat slow, method of temporarily dragging several pounds of useless matter (and a glider) into the sky.

Anemometer – an instrument used to explain why the tug pilot can’t land the blessed thing.

The El-Niño Southern Oscillation

This article is intended to give a brief account of the El-Niño effect. A second article will appear in the next issue discussing the North Atlantic Oscillation, a phenomenon which has a far greater effect on European weather systems than El-Niño.

El Niño translates from the Spanish as ‘the boy child’. Peruvian anchovy fisherman traditionally used the term - a reference to the Christ child - to describe the appearance of a warm ocean current off the South American coast around Christmas. Over the years, the term ‘El Niño’ has come to be reserved for the sequence of changes in the circulation across the Pacific Ocean and Indonesian archipelago when warming is particularly strong - on average every three to eight years.

The reverse phenomenon was at first called ‘Anti- El-Niño’, until it was realised that this literally meant the Anti-Christ thus it was renamed La-Niña (The Girl).

Since 1900, 17 El Niños have affected the world. Amongst them was the 1982-83 event, by many measures the strongest thus far this century. However, the latest event of 1997-98 may have been even stronger.

The Pacific Ocean is a huge mass of water that can control many climate features in its region, since the characteristic changes in the atmosphere - which accompany those in the ocean - result in altered weather patterns across the globe.

In most years the Humboldt current brings relatively cold water northwards along the west coast of South America, an effect increased by up welling of cold water along the Peruvian coast. The cold water then flows westwards along the equator and is heated by the tropical sun. These normal conditions make the western Pacific about 3 C to 8 C warmer than the eastern Pacific.

However, in El Niño years the area of warm water - usually over the western tropical Pacific - cools and the warmest water is displaced eastwards to the central Pacific. The up welling off the Peruvian coast is suppressed and the normally cold waters on the South American coast warm by 2 C to 8 C.

The climate oscillation between ‘warm’ and ‘cold’ periods in the tropical Pacific is known as the Southern Oscillation. The ‘cold’, or more usual state of the oscillation is called the Walker circulation.

The easterly trade winds are part of the low-level component of the Walker circulation. The trades, bringing warm, moist air towards the Indonesian region, move over very warm seas. Moist air rises to high levels and travels eastwards before sinking over the eastern Pacific Ocean. The rising air is associated with a region of low air pressure, towering cumulonimbus clouds and rain. High pressure and dry conditions accompany the sinking air.

During an El Niño phase, the Walker circulation is altered due to the changes in the Pacific Ocean. The lifting and sinking of air - and thus rainy and dry conditions - move with the warmer and colder sea-surface temperatures to form the pattern depicted in the El Niño circulation.

To conclude: The changes in the Pacific Ocean are represented by the term El Niño, whereas the changes in the atmosphere (due to El Niño) are known as the Southern Oscillation. Because these two cannot be separated, the term ‘ENSO’ (El Niño - Southern Oscillation) is often used.

Already in the beginning of this century it was noticed that atmospheric pressure fluctuations occur. This research was initiated by Sir Gilbert Walker, which was originally motivated not by El Niño but by the occasional disastrous failures of the Indian Monsoons. Walker noticed that interannual pressure fluctuations over the Indian Ocean and eastern Tropical Pacific are out of phase: "When pressure is high in the Pacific Ocean, it tends to be low in the Indian Ocean."

The Southern Oscillation refers to this oscillation with two centres that are thousands of kilometres apart. The one centre of action is situated over the western Pacific and eastern Indian Ocean, and the other over the southeastern tropical Pacific. Fluctuations at these two centres are remarkably coherent and are out of phase.

High surface pressure over the western and low surface pressure over the southeastern tropical Pacific coincide with heavy rainfall, unusually warm surface waters and relaxed trade winds in the central and eastern tropical Pacific, hence El Niño type conditions. During a La Niña, the situation is reversed.

This Southern Oscillation was shown to involve far more than just a seesaw in the surface pressure difference across the Pacific Ocean. It is associated with major changes in the rainfall patterns and wind fields of the tropical Indian and Pacific Ocean regions, and is correlated with meteorological fluctuations in other parts of the globe.

The Southern Oscillation Index (SOI) gives a simple measure of the strength and phase of the Southern Oscillation. This index depicts the anomalous sea-level pressure difference - in terms of standard deviations from the climatological monthly mean - between Tahiti (mid-Pacific, 159 W) and Darwin (Australia, 130 E). Definition of the SO in terms of rainfall or sea surface temperature will differ from this, and therefore any one definition is unambiguous.

The SO index is the standard used to determine the presence and relative intensity of the El Niño phenomenon.

The ocean off the western coast of South America is one of the most productive regions of the world ocean. The prevailing equatorward winds drive the surface waters offshore and cause the upwelling of deep cold water that is rich in inorganic plant nutrients such as nitrate, phosphate and silicate. This continuous injection of nutrient into the surface layers, where optimal light conditions prevail, sustains the high rate of primary production. Abundant phytoplankton are eaten by herbivores and, through grazing and predation, the organic matter passes up the food chain.

During El Niño there is decreased primary production, which disrupts the food chain and contributes to the reproductive failure of some species. This is due to increase in depth of the surface layer of warm, nutrient-poor water, causing the deeper, richer water to be inaccessible.

Ecological damage during El Niño is not confined to the coast of South America. In the 1982-83 much of the usual marine life in the central Pacific disappeared and the bird populations of several islands were decimated. Not only the food of the birds disappeared, but also the heavy rains flooded nests in sandbars. Farther west, a severe drought in Indonesia contributed to a fire that ravaged vast tropical forests in 1982.

The New York Times of 2 August 1983 and the Los Angeles Times of 17 August 1983 include detailed estimates of the worldwide economic impact of El Niño of 1982-83. The country that suffers the most from El is probably Peru. Before the onset of El of 1972 it supplied 38% of the world’s fish meal, its catch then shrank from 10.3 to 1.8 million metric tons in just two years. Without fish to eat, many seabirds died, which was a disaster to the guano industry. In the USA the price of soybeans, used as a fishmeal substitute, more than tripled in 1972. The soaring cost of feed in turn contributed to an increase in the retail price of chicken.

Changed sea temperatures alter the patterns of convection carrying heat aloft and altering the air flow at jet stream level. This alteration in the jet stream can increase high level turbulence due to wind shear and in December 1987 a Japanese airliner on a flight to Hawaii encountered such severe turbulence that it dropped over a 1000’ in a few seconds. One passenger died and there were many injuries.

El-Niño changes both the frequency and location of tropical storms. In the Atlantic the number of hurricanes is greatly reduced (during the 1982 event there were only two named hurricanes). There is also a change in the Pacific where, normally, typhoons start to the west of longitude 180° and move towards Asia. During El-Niño the storms appear off the coast of Mexico and by autumn 1987 there had been three fierce storms the first of which, Linda, hit the Mexican coast with winds of up to 190 Knots. I t was Mexico’s severest storm ever, damaging Acapulco and causing 140 deaths in the process.

It can be seen that El-Niño certainly has a profound effect on world weather. While bringing drought to many regions, El-Niño is also responsible for heavy rains and floods in other areas.

It is also important to notice that ENSO does not influence all parts of the world, many regions showing no clear connection with ENSO regarding altered precipitation and temperature patterns. In our own area of the world we are far more influenced by the North Atlantic Oscillation (NAO). Although the link that the NAO has with ENSO is unclear, there is almost certainly a connection and the effect of the NAO on European weather will be discussed in the next issue.

Unbelievable!

I couldn't believe this when I came across it - but having thought about it, it sounds like a good idea - except for the ANO 1989 Articles 43 and 44!!

Yesterday there was good lift over central Indiana and I decided to try something new. I took a few rolls of toilet paper up with me, and when I found a thermal, I would tear off a foot or two and stuff it out the canopy window. Then I'd try to keep track of it while thermalling.

I learned a lot about thermals this way! Sometimes a strip of paper would rotate in place, rising relative to me. I presume that it was right near the thermal core. Other times, the strips would just float around and I could outclimb them (probably because I had dropped them outside the core). I learned a lot about the dynamics of turning, too. The "confetti" stays more or less in one place relative to the air mass, so it makes a good reference point for turns.

After a while, I tried dropping a whole roll to see if I could cut it up by flying through it. However, I discovered that an unrolling roll of toilet paper descends too quickly to catch it for more than one pass in a PW-5 without using spoilers!

I was in a littering frenzy today. From 4100 feet above ground level, I watched one roll drop right into somebody's back yard - surprising, because I was over a predominantly agricultural area, hoping it would all land out in the middle of nowhere and dissolve in the first good rainstorm.

At this time of year, it is not unusual to see corn husks floating around thousands of feet in the air (a sure sign of a thermal) and as a matter of fact I saw one yesterday. Maybe I could use dried corn husks as an environmentally- and socially-conscious alternative to toilet paper. (For dropping out the window of a glider, I mean!!)

Old Club News

One wet and windy Sunday a couple of months back, I was sat in the clubhouse browsing through the S&Gs in there when it occurred to me what a fantastic piece of history they are and nobody really knows about it! So here is the start of something that could easily keep this newsletter going for many years to come! - Club news through the ages. Back in the thirties S&G appeared once a fortnight but was only a dozen or so pages - read on - it's fascinating!

Founded just three months ago, the Furness Gliding Club can now claim to be well established.

A suitable training site approved by the BGA to whom the club is affiliated, has been secured at Gleaston Park Farm, Gleaston, W. Ulverston, whilst headquarters and Club rooms suitable for construction work are available at East mount, Barrow-in-Furness.

Following visits paid by members of the committee to Gliding meetings, the purchase of a British Aircraft Co. Machine, Type BAC II was decided on - the machine to be delivered to our site on Oct 26.

Following on the conference of Northern gliding Clubs at Scarboro' on Oct 4th and 5th at which our club was represented, arrangements were made for the Scarboro' club to assist us at our opening meeting.

The outcome was a most successful demonstration of sailplaning be Herr Magersuppe at Out Park, Kirkby in Furness, on Oct 25 and 26. A 2-seater Sailplane was used and passenger flights were made. As a point of interest may be mentioned that a lady was passenger on the second trip made.

On Oct 25, rather a strong wind prevailed, and Herr Magersuppe expressed the opinion that if a sealed barograph had been available he would have attempted to break the altitude record. Duration of flights was limited only on account of the short time available. A height of 1,000 feet above the starting point was easily attained.

On Oct 26 the BAC delivered the Club BAC II type primary Glider, also the fuselage necessary to convert same to a BAC III type secondary glider. Both types of machines were successfully demonstrated by Mr Lowe Wylde of the BACo. A glide off some 1 minutes duration was attained on the primary.

As the secondary type was not tested until the afternoon, when the wind had dropped considerably, Mr Lowe Wylde was unable to soar above the starting point and after gliding for some 11/2 miles, he eventually landed on the hillside below the starting point.

The club, who were fortunate enough to secure Commander C W Craven, OBE RN of Messrs Vickers-Armstrong Ltd, as their president, hope to begin training almost immediately. Meantime inquirers and intending members should apply to the secretary, R Cuthill, 31 Church Street, Barrow-in-Furness.

The Furness Gliding Club is now getting down to the serious business of training on the site at Gleaston Park Farm.

Successful meetings were held on Nov 1 with the first "crash" when a skid was damaged. This was repaired in time for instruction to continue by noon on the following day and numerous slides and hops were made.

Nov 8 saw a resumption of operations, and a number of short hops were made. As before, a minor crash occurred, although the damage was put right in time for instruction to continue on the Sunday, bad weather put an end to training for the day.

The club will hold its first General meeting on Saturday Nov 15 at the Imperial Hotel, Barrow-in-Furness. The general meeting will be preceded by a Public Meeting at which a lecture will be given.

Films showing Herr Magersuppe’s flights in the Scarborough Club's two seater sailplane at Kirkby in October should prove interesting; the Club will also have the pleasure of seeing a film of Mr Lowe Wylde in the club's own machine. The public will be given an opportunity of joining the club, prior to the General Meeting.

Particulars may be obtained from the Secretary, Mr R Cuthill, 31 church Street, Barrow-in-Furness.

Lack of favourable weather, and latterly the loss of our training site, has prevented this club from featuring in the news columns of late.

We have been fortunate enough to secure a site for operations this coming weekend, when we hope to put in some concentrated training, and arrangements are in hand for an extended lease of the same.

A constructional section of the Club has been formed, and a trailer built for the transport of our machine. Although not completely finished, the trailer gave every satisfaction when called on to assist in the removal to our new training site.

With the approach of the long evenings, and as our new site is only 2 miles out of town, we hope to have no lack of attendance at future meetings.

Members from this Club visited Blackpool on Mar 15 to witness the Auto-towing demonstration arranged by the National Flying Services, arriving just in time to see Mr Lowe-Wylde, of the British Aircraft Co. take off from the roadway and alight on the aerodrome - a neat piece of work. Quite a number of instructive flights were given, impressive of the safety of this method off instruction, in capable hands, and of which film records were secured.

The winning tickets in the Club Draw were:- 1711, 1288, 102, 340. Prizes have been sent directly to the holders of these tickets. Sincere thanks to all who contributed to the success of this effort.

Canopies

Earlier in the month there was an accident in the states where a canopy on a two seater had come open early in the tow. The pilot had become distracted, got too high on tow and caused a tug-upset (pulled the tail up, diving the tug into the ground). The P2 glider pilot was killed and the instructor and tug pilot were both seriously injured. In the following days there was a long discussion about it on the internet, the main points of which are well worth repeating here, especially for those people who, like me, started gliding after this happened to the IS28 a number of years ago and who probably have never thought about it before.

2) Pre-flight checks - follow them religiously - canopy closed, locked. and checked

3) If, despite this, a canopy does come open - DO NOT LET GO OF THE STICK - first priority is always to fly the glider.

Gliding At Walney (Part 6)

After the first hand experience when we lost Mike Dodds out to sea, and had reports in of pilots bailing out over forests, gliders crashing on the common, and a pilot so low over Millom that he could be seen waving to people below, my first thought was to contact the police and inform them that there was no crash, or anything drastic; merely a glider doing what comes naturally on the aerodrome, and there were no problems with anything.

My young guide knew the police house well on the estate, and seemed proud to take me there; where I was informed by his wife that he was out for a short time, but that she would inform him of my landing as soon as he came in, and she was sure that he would be around to check. The next step was to put my radio and other small items in a safe place, and so asked my young guide to take me to the public house on the estate, only to be informed that there was none, and no shops either, "But it will be safe in our house, under the bed in Mums room, because we are not allowed in her bedroom at all, for anything!" So under Mums bed they were finally confined, and Mum gave me a cup of tea and a pleasant welcome.

The house was one that stood out from the air from the rest of the estate, by being the largest on the site, and of a different design from all the others, by having no walls, just a long and high roof right down to the ground, which in itself was quite interesting, though as I drew nearer it had all the appearances of the aerodrome, with the shortage of well kept gardens, the accumulation of redundant family debris around the building, and the lack of upkeep of the paint work, still "it would be safe under Mums bed". Inside it seemed to be at least, well lived in, and there also seemed to be lots of children of all genders and sizes going in and out of various doors, just to have a look at the stranger their brother had dragged up from somewhere. I said my goodbye’s to them all with a promise to be back within two hours, and then hied me over to the nearest telephone to call for a taxi, and waited for it outside the main gate of the drome whilst it came over from Ramsey.

It came; and I must have thought that all my birthdays were going to be jammed into this one day, for out of it, looking for an aged aviator stepped the most vivacious, exciting, long red haired young lady that ever walked the island, with the sort of smile that instantly knocked years away, straightened the back, and made the old eyes go round like a fruit machine. All these effects were heightened when she accepted the offer of a meal at a top Chinese restaurant in Ramsey, with a little shopping trip thrown in if we had time.

The trip to Ramsey seemed to go too quickly and our conversation was only interrupted one time when a police car went in the opposite direction fairly smartly and caused some comment about it’s need to come out of hiding during the day- a bit like most of our police about today.- As we were about to enter the town, another police car went by like a bat out of hell, sounding as if the cop at the wheel had just been given a new siren for his birthday. This caused another comment from my lovely pilot about there being some sort of incident of note to get two cars to the north of the island. For the next hour or so I enjoyed good food and the ladies delightful company, and had a pleasant arm in arm stroll around the quay side until, sadly, it was about time to get back to the drome and await the tug. We got back into the taxi and headed back the ten miles or so to the aerodrome. We were about half way there when going in the opposite direction came a police motorcycle, shortly followed by the two police cars, this fact was commented on, though not too much, as by now our conversation had reached a point where it would have required at least three tanks and a troop carrier to have caused a break in transmission.

Driving around to the house to collect my belongings she wondered how I picked this one house, and how I found the occupants. When I told her that the little boy found me, and I was quite pleased to have my radio under ‘Mums bed’ she had quite a laugh about it all.

The family were well known, and much talked about all over the Island; He never worked, she had about one child a year, there seemed to be a few uncles about, and the house was the cheapest the council could knock together for them out of the roofs of two other houses simply placed on foundations, with a lot of space all round as a sort of ‘buffer zone’ to give some sort of protection to the neighbours. I took them as I found them, much loved, little washed, but well mannered and polite, if not a little over lively. However, time was running out, and I expected the tug here in a few minutes, so we would have to get a move on, as I didn’t want to cause any disturbance back at Walney by delaying flying there through me holding up the tug. As we came round the hanger I was pleasantly surprised to see my aircraft being guarded by a policeman, and the security guard. The urchin was there also, as he was under strict instructions to guard the aircraft with his very life from the attentions of the several children that had begun to show an interest in the situation, and he would forfeit the huge payment he was to receive if he didn’t keep it clear of all fingerprints, chewing gum and the other perils that could appear with any group of children. He was ‘In Charge’

The security man was of not much use, he was too fat to run with a wing, but the copper looked young and fit, and together with my genned up red head, gave me the launching team I required

Now that everything was set to ‘Go’, only the tug to arrive I paid the taxi for the time, gave the urchin some recompense for all his invaluable assistance, and promised to see him again when I was in the island for the Manx Rally, and take him for a run round in my rally car - with a crash helmet on! Then told the policeman what I would like him to do to assist, and whilst I was showing him, we heard the tug, and then spotted him in the distance coming absolutely dead in line with the runway. This appearance, with such a rapid approach downwind, galvanised everyone into action. I told the police he would find it easier to run without his helmet on, and his issue greatcoat was quickly folded neatly on the grass, helmet on top, and himself hold of the wing tip ready for a quick dash out on the runway as soon as the tug had taxied past our position after landing. Everything seemed to be happening at once, the tug came over in a low run and dropped the towrope, the policeman, the taxi driver and myself got the plane off the grass and ready for a run out to position, me and the urchin retrieved the rope and got it ready for a dash out to connect it up, I was climbing into my parachute with the urchins help, and punctuated with goodbye kisses from the taxi driver. The tug came back and landed and taxied into position, we ran back with the glider, I checked the tow rope was on both ends securely, shook hands with the police and thanked him, thinking at the time that every time the poor chappie opened his mouth to say something I seemed to get him to do something, or another instruction, or remember not to put his fingers in the ailerons, or not to lift up or press down on the wing, nor to run too fast and pull, or too slowly and drag the wing back; He never did get what he wanted to say said. I gave the urchin all the rest of my loose change, ruffled his hair, and seriously shook his hand, got a final hug from the beautiful red head that nearly metamorphosed me, before she dashed up front to relay my signal to the tug, strapped and bolted myself in the glider, so excited that I waved at the urchin and blew the police a kiss, and then with the lovely sound of four cylinders coming onto full song, began to trundle along the runway, becoming airborne as I got level with the red hair and a wave that hadn’t stopped from when she signalled to the tug, I waved back, and looked back as long as possible, filled up with emotions and pleasant memories; Then with a large breath and a misty eye, it was all history, and I was back in a glider. If the big fan stops, where will he go? If the string breaks where can I go? Now the hedges were no problem, and I could land ahead to the right, coming up to the end of the runway and plenty of height as we approached the housing estate area, with the old airport lane now used as a road to the buildings. - My goodness gracious me!! What is that police car doing going down the road at that speed? Oh! I see now, it is being chased by those other two police cars coming down the lane behind him, and I thought of my policeman down there, and hoped he could get his greatcoat and helmet on before the three cars got round the end of the hanger and onto the launching area, where all that would be left would be a red haired girl with her curls blowing in the wind, a little boy probably still jumping up and down with the excitement, a policeman studying his boot toe caps, and if they were lucky, a bit of the smell of oil and burnt aviation fuel with its own uniquely nostalgic odours, drifting down the wind. When I saw the police cars coming to the drome, it was the first time I had an inkling that I might have been in some way involved, but for the life of me I couldn’t think why, and as they passed out of sight beneath me, they just as easily slipped out of mind.

As we climbed up to three thousand feet over the island there was only the pleasant feeling of being aloft again and not needing lodgings for the night somewhere, or having to arrange transport for a trailer to the island for a retrieve.

This return was simplicity itself, fly straight on east ‘till we came to the Sellafield complex, and then turn right, and then fly on ‘till we came to an island, and that would be it.

At four thousand feet, our agreed flying height, I watched the tug looking very small on the end of the rope against a hazy blue sea merging into an even hazier blue grey sky, and wondering what he would do if his motor stopped, we passed over the strip of golden sand that divided the green land from the darker blue sea down below and said goodbye to the Isle of Man.

Waiting for God!

It is a sobering thought, every time I look around me on flying days, that there is only one club member older than me who is actively flying; between us we must span 130 years or so. In this context I have the following observations to make.

I was born before television, polio shots, frozen foods, contact lenses, videos, Frisbees, freebies and the pill. I lived before radar, GPS, credit cards, split atoms, laser beams and ball-point pens; before dishwashers, tumble dryers, electric blankets, air conditioners and drip dry clothes - and before man walked on the moon.

We got married first and then lived together - how quaint can you be? I thought fast food was what you ate in Lent. A "Big Mac" was an oversized raincoat, crumpets were what you had for tea and a shag was a large seabird (unless in all male company, or out with the sort of girl your parents didn’t approve of). I existed before househusbands, computer dating and dual careers; when a meaningful relationship meant getting along with your cousins and sheltered accommodation was where you waited for a bus.

I was before day care centres, group homes, and disposable nappies, body form was falsies and a tight sweater. I had never heard of FM radio, tape decks, electric typewriters, artificial hearts, word processors, yoghurt and men wearing earrings. For us "time sharing" meant togetherness, a chip was a fried potato, hardware meant nuts and bolts, software wasn’t a word. As a teenager "making out" referred to how you did in your exams; a stud was something which fastened a collar on a shirt, a bonk was hurting your head, a blow job was getting the egg out of a bird’s egg and "going all the way" meant staying on a bus until it reached the depot. Pizzas, McDonalds and instant coffee were unheard of. In my day cigarette smoking was fashionable; grass was mown; coke was kept in a coalhouse; a joint was a piece of meat you had on Sundays and pot was something you cooked in. Rock music was grandmother’s lullaby, El Dorado was an ice cream; a gay person was the life and soul of the party; we could all unhook a girls brassiere with one hand.

Condoms were a furtive purchase at the Chemists shop (Pharmacy - what’s a pharmacy?) or barbers and here I must digress a little, a trip down my personal memory lane: we were three cronies, about twelve years old and thought we knew everything. One of the gang’s older brothers had, after a lot of persuasion, given us a riveting practical demonstration of what a male was capable of after reaching puberty. After threatening to split on him, we black mailed the poor devil into making a suitable purchase, a "packet of three", made by the Durex Rubber Company and costing half a crown (12½ pence to you!) for which we each contributed ten old pence. After inspecting these treasures carefully, we pierced the teat ends of each one several times with a needle, returned them to their packet and retired to some bushes along Grange promenade. After posting a suitable lookout in a suitable position we got the signal, a courting couple was approaching. Every male was in uniform in those days - we were convinced they’d be dead keen. Number two in the gang positioned the goods on the pavement and we waited developments. Sure enough the pocket was espied - furtive glances all round, picked up - lots of female giggling - inspected and pocketed. Weather or not there is now an adult in his or her fifties walking around grange I can’t say but we were all convinced there would be an increase in population nine months after copulation. Sniggers all round.

To continue: There were four grades of toilet paper - Picture Post, The Times, The Lancashire Evening Post and The Westmorland Gazette. People had the toilet outside the home and a po under the bed. A porn shop was a pawn shop; a handkerchief was a coat sleeve. Footwear was constructed of leather, iron and wood. A disk jockey was a National Hunt rider with a back injury. The recycling unit was known as the Rag and Bone man. An alarm was known as a knocker up. The NHS was known as the doctors bill - six old pence a week. Debt and illegitimacy (shades of the previous paragraph) were secret. McDonalds only had a farm. Central Heating was an oven plate or a firebrick wrapped in a blanket. A duvet was your dad’s overcoat. A kitchen unit was known as a Slopstone. The top ten were the Ten Commandments.

Those of us who were born before 1940 must be a hardy bunch when you think of the ways in which the world has changed, and the adjustments that have had to be made. No wonder we are so confused and there is a generation gap. But we have survived! Hallelujah!

Club Ladder

This year there have been a few enterprising pilots who have used the rules of the ladder to their apparent advantage. This has opened up a can of worms and in order to shut it again I'd like to suggest a couple of changes to the ladder rules for next year (which starts on Sunday November 1st).

Fairly recently it was changed so that a cross-country flight could have three turn points rather than two. This means that it was possible to start at Black Combe, fly to say, Eskdale, back to Haverigg, back to Eskdale and back to Walney - a double out and return. A few people did this and I took the claims as valid. However it was pointed out that it isn’t possible to use Haverigg as a turn point as the rules say that all turn points have to be the minimum distance for the glider (14-24km depending on the glider) from both Walney and Haverigg. So I had to "alter" their claims. Also, one flight this year involved a flight up the coast, back to Walney and then out to the motorway, Again I had to alter it because Walney wasn’t a valid turn point.

Now, I and lots of people I've spoken to, can’t see a problem in using Haverigg to allow a double out and return or Walney as a turn point. So I propose that the requirement for turn points to be a minimum distance from Walney and Haverigg be dropped. Everything else stays as before, in particular that each leg has to be longer than the minimum distance for the glider.

The other "loophole" is over what constitutes an instructional flight. This is important because there is a 50% bonus on the cross-country distance for instructional flights in order to try to encourage instructors and their pupils to go on cross country flights. This was being made a mockery of when the "P2" had more badges than the "Instructor". So the proposed rule change here is to only allow a flight to be classed as instructional if the P2 doesn’t have full silver.

I have spoken to many people about these changes and the vast majority are in agreement. Hence the ladder next year will proceed on this basis. If you would like to raise any serious objections to these changes then please let me know and we’ll take it from there. Otherwise - go out, fly and let’s have a really good year on the ladder!

Gliding World Records

There has been a steady stream of new world records being set, some of which better ones that you will have read about in previous newsletters. Remember the New Zealand 500km speed record that was going back and forward between Theo Newfield with Alistair Malcolm and Terry Delore earlier in the year? Well on the 18^th of October Terry set a new record of 156.12kph for the 15m class in an LS-6c over a triangular course. The course was Mt Cook - Nevis Mine - Campbell Park and return. This was a new record category following the FAIs reorganisation of the records last year hence no record previously stood. Meanwhile on the same day Theo and Alistair in an ASH-25 broke their previous record of 211.5kph over an out and return distance of 500km between Mt Cook to Waiparu pushing the record up to 216.42 kph.

In the new world class (i.e. a PW-5) on the 15^th July, Patrick L. Tuckey (USA) set a record for the "Speed over a Triangular Course of 300 km" at 81.47 kph. On the same flight he also set records for "distance over a triangular course" and for "Distance via 3 Turn Points" of 310km. Then on 28^th August he also set the record for "Speed over a Triangular Course of 100 km" at 103 kph.

Finally you will remember Gary Osoba from the last newsletter in his Ultralight Woodstock and Carbon Dragon gliders. Back in July 1995 (it took so long to confirm because the FAI couldn't decide what class they were in..) he set records for "Straight Distance" and "Free Distance with up to 3 Turn Points " (382.12km Sunflower-Hutchinson, KS (USA) to near Polo, MO (USA)) in a single flight in the Maupin Carbon Dragon (Prototype). Then on the 22^nd September the same year set a record for "Speed over a 100 km Triangular Course" of 39.40kph and on the same day for "Distance over a Triangular Course" of 214.08 km and Out and Return Distance of 185.91 km.

On 21 April 1998 he did a flight in the Woodstock of 508.10km from Hutchinson, KS (USA) to Bonham, TX (USA) giving him records for "Straight Distance", "Straight Distance to a Declared Goal" and curiously "Three Turn Point Distance". How a single flight can qualify for straight distance and three turn point distance is beyond me!

LGC Clothes

I will be ordering more clothes towards the end of November, hopefully they should then be back before Christmas. If anybody wants anything ordering, let me know what you'd like (with money please) ASAP. (A mail order facility is available!) For those of you that don’t already know or those that need a reminder, there are sweatshirts, polo shirts and T-shirts available, in a variety of colours and sizes with the club Logo discretely printed on the left chest. They are all the very best "Fruit of the Loom" brand, made to last. Colours available are Burgundy (club colour), Red, Yellow, Dark Green, Grey and White, in S/M/L/XL sizes. XXL and children’s sizes are also available in some cases.

Sweatshirts are long sleeved, collar-less "sweaters" and are 70/30 Cotton/polyester. They cost £11 in S/M/L/XL and £9 for children's sizes. Sorry but yellow is not an option!

Polo Shirts are Medium weight with short sleeves, with collar and buttons. They are 65/35 Poly-cotton and are £11.

T-shirts are high quality 100% cotton "premium" T-shirts. They cost £7 in S/M/L/XL and £5 in children's sizes.

Don't forget there are also cloth badges (£3) and car stickers (85p) available, both with the club logo on them.

Empennage

Well there you go, the second anniversary newsletter in the bag! To be quite honest with you, if you'd have asked me two years ago how long it was going to last I would have said a few issues at most; I was truly expecting it to have died out by now. But no, quite the opposite, it keeps on getting bigger and bigger! Back then it was eight sides of A4, you will notice that this one is a whopping sixteen! (And the font has got smaller and the white space less) It's all thanks to all of the contributors who usually seem to come up with something, some readily and spontaneously, some with a bit of persuasion and a few if really pushed! Thanks one and all.

At least after two years I've got into the swing of it and it doesn't take me very long to knock it all into shape. Having a computer at home now certainly helps and it means I get to eat my lunch in peace at work these days!

Other than the occasional "pat on the back" I don't seem to get very much feedback about the newsletter, so I can only assume it's OK. Of course if you think otherwise I'll be only too glad to hear your opinions. It's very easy to keep churning out the same stuff time after time, but if you think it could be better please say so.

The next newsletter will be due in two months time, which means the end of December, i.e. Christmas. Now, I don't very much fancy doing it then so the next newsletter will be unique in having Two deadlines! Initially we'll go for Thursday 10^th of December and if there's enough material I will knock it out early. If not, the deadline will be Thursday 7^th January 1999 by which time there WILL be enough material (wont there?!?) and it'll be late! So get pen to paper, finger to keyboard, or however you want to give me the material - I'll take anything, anyhow! I'm especially on the lookout for pictures and photos to use in the newsletter. I'm sure there will be plenty of cameras around at the dinner - so make sure I get some juicy tabloid shots - it's about time we had a really sleazy tabloid-style picture story! If it's all too much for you, don't forget to drop Uncle Bug a line - he may be able to help you out. Also don't forget to submit some crackin' definitions for the Bugaurus. Letters to the editor are also very welcome (except if your name's Sid - I'm still in the dark on that one - would the real Incipient Sid please stand up…)

Contents

Great "Local" Soaring?