LGC NEWS
May 1999
LGC NEWS |
May 1999 |
Helvellyn close up (Graham Welch)
Peter Lewis
Bank holiday Monday turned out to be a day of two halves, it was the first decent thermal day of the season and everything was going fine.
Keith Butterfield and Andy Tebay in the K21 were on their way to Sutton Bank, I was following and made it to Yorkshire as well. We also had gliders on the other side of the motorway (Graham Sturgeon, Roy Jones and John Martindale) and Graham Welch was as far north as Keswick. This sounds a nerve wracking flight back as the picture above shows where Graham passed Helvellyn looking up at the summit from the Vega! There are more of Grahams pictures of his lakeland tour inside.
All of these flights can be seen and played back if you download them from the web site.
It was a good day for the club ladder with many claims being submitted. I was surprised however to see that no one had gone for the 100k diploma. Mind you, Andy, the club ladder leader, will have helped himself to over 3700 points. This served to consolidate his lead established after a Friday afternoon flight he and I had in wave in the K21 up to 15,000 feet and round Whitehaven and back.
When I arrived back to the site the tug pilot Alan Dennis had taken the tug out of the air because of a drop in oil pressure and the engine running rough.
It was in the early hours of the morning when we arrived back at the hangar from Sutton bank and I just turned the prop round on the tug to see if there was compression, there was but there was also an odd noise from one of the cylinders.
The following morning we went to see if it had got better overnight but it remained the same and after a phone call or two requested a visit from the engineers at Blackpool. They took the cylinder off and after another phone call to HQ decided to take the engine out of the tug and send it to CSE where it will be for about four weeks ! At least its going in one piece and not with a con rod stuck through the side of the engine ! As yet we have no more information.
All is not lost though because we will be winching, starting this weekend. Don’t forget if you are wanting a bronze leg it’s only half an hours soaring off the winch ! Turn up, get checked out and go for it.
Alan Dennis
With the Globe-trotting Social Sec away, it falls on my shoulders to write a bit about the forth coming events.
Despite Lyn not being here, the next social will be on Saturday the 22nd of May, just a week before the Hus Bos trip starts. Several plans are vying for pole position as to what we will do for food. Whatever happens it will be nothing like the recent sumptuous buffets organised by Lyn. This will be a "back to our roots" of "pre-Lyn day" socials which always seemed to come together on the day of the event without much planning. It might be a Barbecue, a pot of Gilbert-esque Chilli, a Pizza Hut order or who knows what?! Turn up and bring friends or better halves for a mystery tour of an impromptu, but whatever happens, a hugely enjoyable and relatively cheap night out amongst friends. And no; the freak show behind the bar wont be exposing his chest this time (at least not whilst sober... and no, that's not a challenge either...!!)
As I said before, the Whit week trip to Hus Bos starts the week after the social. With the prospect of the tug still being out of action, it may be the only chance of an aerotow for a few weeks. Book your accommodation soon to avoid disappointment.
Subsequent trips are to Spain in June, Pocklington in August and Portmoak in October. Dates are on the front page - put them in your diary now!
In response to the question posed by Lyn last time about a new-years eve Millennium party, it has been suggested by a couple of people that rather than paying a handsome profit for the club and all of the work falling on Lyn we could go for a "collective" effort with everyone bringing something along. What do you think? Pay lots or bring something or not bother at all? Come on lets make our minds up and start planning the last party of the year/decade/century/millennium...
Anyway, Have Fun...
Peter Lewis
Prevention is better than a cure.
Over the last ten years, a lot of pilots have lost their lives or mobility because they have spun in from a variety of situations. The point is that all of them failed to notice that the glider they were flying was departing from ‘normal’ flight. While spin training in a basic two seater is a vital part of any glider pilots training, there is no substitute for regularly spinning the single seat glider you fly.
Deliberately spinning from a turn, ideally in a slow speed configuration maybe some airbrake out will educate you how your glider warns you that it is about to depart and how to react as it does so! Remember, it’s the departure you are really interested in. If you screw up at 500ft, being the worlds smartest at full spin recoveries is no way near as useful as being well practised at preventing a full spin developing in the first place.
If you have a bronze badge please inform an instructor on the ground when you are going to demonstrate the exercise.
Peter Redshaw
Jack was one of the stalwarts of the club from its early days on Tebay Fell to the late eighties. He died on the 16th April 99. He was one of the prominent characters that helped rebuild our Club.
My memories of Jack go back to when the club first operated from Walney in 1962, and he was one of my first instructors. As an apprentice in VSEL I used to work in his garage in Dalton most nights from about 5.00pm through to 11.00pm or later. Not only did the few extra bob come in handy, but Jack was the club’s mechanical genius. This allowed Jack aided by the makee learnees to build winches, cable retrieve vehicles and fix all sorts of other goodies for the airfield.
A man who loved to have things organised on the airfield and one of the initial enthusiasts for the Duty Pilot. Something that gliding today has lost in that modern pilots are ‘busy’ people and are living in a world of instant satisfaction. Jack would spend many a weekend at the airfield without a flight but drawing his satisfaction from keeping everything working and flying.
One of his favourite tales was of winch launching a sheep on Tebay Fell. As the glider came over the brow Jack noticed a blob on the cable and as it got closer it became a sheep. Due to the unlandable area for the glider he kept winching until the glider was at a safe height for a circuit. The sheep reached about 600ft, he then slowed the launch down and the sheep slid down the cable to terra firma. At this point he stopped the launch, glider and sheep both having a good flight.
He won the Leighton Hall trophy in 1959 and 1962. It was and still is presented to the club member making the most outstanding flight of the year. 1959 was the first year the trophy was won and Jack was the first person to win it. 1962 saw him win it for a cross country in the clubs Oly 2B. 1966 and he won the Lonsdale trophy for the longest cross country flight from Walney.
Instructing became his key flying activity in the club and his enthusiasm was evident. Always there, first to open and last to close the hangar doors. As time progressed he also became active in the ATC, initially at Kendal and then at Millom, Often bringing a busload of young Cadets down to Walney.
The BGA rules for assistant rated instructors changed and as Jack required a silver C to continue he concentrated on his instructing with the ATC and continued his flying interest through them as a Civilian Instructor right up until the end of last year. Even then, he kept in touch with the CO as he had every intention of continuing his CI duties after recovering from his illness - which unfortunately, he never did.
Peter Lewis
Many years ago when I did not have 3500hrs gliding, more like 3hrs, I was stood at the launch point with a few members when this glider appeared on finals at high speed. There were banging noises as flaps were lowered, tail chutes being deployed followed by Dennis Carey then CFI running up the runway shouting "That’s it I’m going to ground him." Someone else made the comment its just a normal PR circuit.
Next I would have liked to have shown you a photo of another PR circuit when we were using runway 35 with the glider parked in the field just short of the airfield. Unfortunately I can’t lay my hands on it but it’s a good job we were not using runway 24 or I would not be the only pilot who tried teaching the glider to swim !
What I want to see is what all our present day instructors teach which is the BGA method.
In brief, we turn down wind at the high key point for that particular glider, flying down wind at best glide adjusting height and position by turning towards or away from the runway
When we are abeam the landing area we make a 45 degree fully co-ordinated turn on to the diagonal leg flying at the approach speed for that particular glider taking in to consideration the weather conditions. At the right height and position we turn on to base leg and then on to finals aiming for a half brake approach to the landing area and making final adjustments to speed and height as we go through the wind gradient. The round out and float is made at the correct speed. On touch down the brakes can be opened fully.
That is a brief description of how I want it done but the instructors will go through it in more detail. The last thing I want to see is inexperienced pilots trying out different ideas and doing their own thing.
In conclusion I would like to thank PR for his thoughts but if he has any more on this subject don’t ring us we will ring you!
By Graham Welch
More Pictures from Graham Welch's Lakeland tour: (See Front Page)
Rydal water from Loughrigg Fell
Castlerigg stone circle (centre) second
possible land out at 1500ft
Thirlmere
Grasmere
Roger Copley
Is life sometimes surreal or what? Here I am thrashing along a declared 4000 mile task at about 500kts and 35000 ft courtesy of an Airtours Boeing 767; we are somewhere over Greenland.
I mean look at it – 4 hours into the flight, several drinks and a movie later, I am sitting back relaxing to a little soul music, musing that there don’t seem to be many land out opportunities should the lift fail. Fortunately the large thermals under each wing show no sign of dissipating, and the incredible views remind me of a previous ‘Lakes’ expedition to Scotland, and my first serious wave climb at Feshie Bridge.
Back then it was just a tad different, sitting cocooned in the refrigerated interior of the Slingsby at a ‘mere’ 14000ft; the ASI said 65kts but I was just hanging in the air over Loch Rannoch like some bloody great shite hawk. The ‘aerobatic’ aerotow had as usual proved to be interesting (to say the least), but I had survived the gyrations of the combination without a cable break, so thankfully had not needed to implement the ‘eventuality’ of landing in the river bed in order to avoid the forest. ("You will total the glider, but stand a good chance of walking away!" )
After following the Robin into the immense Cairngorm bowl I was soon enjoying a booming ridge climb out over the Feshie valley, followed by a seamless transition into strong wave; of course I had a ‘moment’ or two before realising just what speed I had to maintain just to hold station, and again when I tried to push forward to jump to the next wave bar – the altimeter was going down so fast I thought the needle was going to fall off.
This was only my second flight in EDZ, and I was still getting used to her, but what a buzz! It was difficult to contemplate that this was my third and last flight of the outing, and I would have to land, de-rig, and drive home that evening.
In spite of the dangers of the Feshie site, this really was the business, and a Gold height gain to boot – I hardly noticed that my feet were going numb with the cold.
I did however notice that my GPS batteries were exhausted, so it was time to mooch back to Feshie with Barry Meakes’ briefing running through my mind – "I assume you can all fly - If I call to say don’t land back here, then go away and land somewhere else! Your low keypoint should be no less than 700ft at the boundary fence, and punch down through the wind gradient at 70kts!" - all just a formality really(!!).
I had managed it in the K21 once with the reassuring presence of Northy in the back seat on my site check, and once in the Vega the previous day in the rain (first flight on type – must have been off my trolley - he was; I was there!! - ed). The turbulence created by the forest upwind certainly adds a little ‘je ne sais quoi’ to the proceedings! What colour did you say adrenaline is?...........
........ EH? What's that? The air-hostess is arriving with some liquid sustenance, and the Captain has announced that we have reached Baffin Island of all places. Peering out of the window the Spey valley is nowhere to be seen, just hundreds of square miles of pack ice and snow. We have just under 4 hours to go, and 2 weeks before a retrieve is possible.
I will just have to go out and do a spot of skiing.
David North
Can users of the club’s EW’s please clear the memories when they have down loaded the data.
These belong to the club and, as such, can be used by any club member.
Problem. You pick one up on the bus and find that there is already some data on it. Everyone is up flying in wave and there is a chance of doing a Diamond height. Do you wipe the existing trace from the memory, and possibly someone else’s badge claim from the day before or pass up the chance of a pretty rare opportunity at Walney?
Personally I would go for the former and face the consequences.
So if you do have a claim on an EW either down load it, or get it down loaded, ASAP and then please clear the memory. Don’t leave it on the bus for anyone else to pick up until you have done so.
By Uncle Bug
Dear Uncle Bug
Why is it that whenever I fly with a female in the front seat of a glider I feel an irresistible urge to execute an immediate field landing. I believe this is hampering me in my quest for a half decent soaring flight and a place on the club ladder.
Will Undershoot.
Dear Will,
If you cannot control your urges, I suggest you have a cold shower before you fly; the affinity you have to the local farming community is commendable, but will not endear you to the females you fly with, as they may well suspect that your motives are somewhat less honourable.
Uncle Bug
Uncle Bug
D
De-rig - a signal to run and hide, especially if shouted from anywhere near the Nimbus.
Delta Seven Zero – Northy’s callsign.
Down – usually preceded by a number, this represents the indication on a typical Walney vario following release from the tug.
Declaration – a piece of paper given to an O.O. to brighten up an otherwise humourless day.
Dry Adiabatic Lapse Rate – if you are lucky enough to find a thermal, this is the rate your tootsies cool down as you climb.
Duty Instructor – a launch point guru, mentor, sage and general good egg, who must be obeyed at all times.
Dewpoint – cloudbase.
Dunstable – lightening conductor.
Depression – either a cyclonic weather system, or the resultant mood on the airfield following the effect of said system on the Walney microclimate.
Dolphining – a mythical technique for zooming along streets of massive, stonking thermals – a likely story.
DI - a routine confirmation that the glider at least is still airworthy, even if the pilot is a bit dubious.
Dolly – these come in all shapes, sizes ages and conditions, but are extremely useful to assist and support a glider pilot while he is not flying. He can rest his belly on them, and even use them to gently hold his tail (although this is not recommended while flying John – it can be very distracting, and potentially dangerous); you can even have one holding the wing whilst towing the glider out. They should be kept well maintained and lubricated at all times, or the resulting backlash can prove extremely expensive.
Diamond – a symbol of gliding excellence widely recognised as the pinnacle of a vintage glider pilots career. N.B. These badges are only significant if attained flying an Oly 2b or equivalent, as it is well known that glass ships will fly them by themselves; they are only prevented from doing so by the ineptitude of the pilots!
This is supposed to have actually happened.
Last summer, down on Lake Isabella, located in the high desert an hour east of Bakersfield, a blonde, new to boating was having a problem. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't get her brand new 22-ft Bayliner to perform.
It wouldn't get on a plane at all, and it was very sluggish in almost every manoeuvre, no matter how much power she applied. After about an hour of trying to make it go, she putted over to a nearby marina thinking maybe they could tell her what was wrong.
A thorough topside check revealed everything was in perfect working order. The engine ran fine, the outdrive went up and down, and the prop was the correct size and pitch. So, one of the marina guys jumped in the water to check underneath the boat. He came up choking on water, he was laughing so hard. Under the boat, still strapped securely in place, was the trailer.
Alan Dennis
As advertised in the last newsletter, there was a very interesting lecture given by Ken Smart of the Air Accident Investigation Branch from DERA Farnborough at Forum 28 on March 17th. A sizeable contingent of the Gliding Club were to be found there, many after earlier lubricating their tonsils in the Hartington.
Ken started by introducing the AAIB and traced it back to the Accidents Investigation Branch (AIB) of the Royal Flying Corps. It was established in 1915 when Captain C B Cockburn was appointed to the independent post of "Inspector of Accidents" for the RFC, reporting directly to the Director General of Military Aeronautics in the War Office. At the end of the First World War a Department of Civil Aviation was set up in the Air Ministry and the AIB became part of that Department being concerned with investigation of both civil and military accidents.
The Air Navigation Act 1920 gave the Secretary of State for Air power to make regulations for the investigation of civil air accidents and the first regulations made for this purpose were the Air Navigation (Investigation of Accidents) Regulations 1922. Since the creation of International Civil Aviation Organisation (ICAO) and the signing of the Chicago Convention in 1944, the branch has provided accident investigation services not only in this country but world-wide for which it has earned a very high reputation. Following the Second World War a Ministry of Civil Aviation was created and in 1946 the AIB was transferred to it, but continued to assist the Royal Air Force with accident investigations - a situation which has continued ever since.
The lecture then went on to look at the details of a number of accident that had been investigated by the branch and which Mr Smart had personally been involved in as head of the branch. Some very thought provoking slides accompanied his talk. One such picture was of a crater, some forty feet in diameter and fourteen feet deep. This was the scene that met the investigators. The crater had been made by was the crash of an RAF Jaguar which had impacted the ground nose first at an angle approaching 60° at very high speed. Upon impact the front of the aircraft had been compressed by the heavy fuel laden wings and engines at the rear of the aircraft. The fuel was instantly vaporised and exploded causing the aircraft to disintegrate into billions of thumbnail-sized pieces of wreckage which were spread downwind for some distance. The front parts of the aircraft were propelled with such force into the ground that parts of the instrument panel were found forty feet down in the earth beneath the crater.
The largest investigation ever covered by the branch, Lockerbie, was also described. This included radar images from the night of the accident immediately before and after the explosion of the bomb. These showed the single return from Pan-Am 103 first splitting into two and then into an ever increasing number or returns culminating in a truly shocking massive plume of debris spreading right across the country to the North Sea an hour later. As with the Jaguar the major destruction to the town of Lockerbie had been caused by the fuel laden wings crashing to the ground. The familiar pictures of the huge crater obliterating a whole street had been caused by the explosion upon impact. Such was the force of the explosion that a section of window frame from one of the destroyed houses had been found several miles away.
Questions and answers rounded the lecture off.
Rip Pearson
It wasn't just the fact that Oz gliders fly low tow, break right on release, cook your feet (as opposed to freezing), operate on airfield QNH and get bloody hot inside; all these idiosyncrasies were completely overshadowed by the briefing I was getting on what to look for in the daily inspection. Wally had his hand on the large panel on the top of the fuselage, "always remove this panel", he said, "what you're looking for are snakes, spiders or anything else unfriendly that might add more than a bit of interest to your sortie. Mind you", he went on, "the only thing that has joined anyone in flight was a mouse, Bill had a mouse running around the cockpit with him on a cross country flight." What Bill did with his mouse I forbade to ask, but the old mind went back a good few clicks to 1951, when I was learning to fly. I was flying a Harvard at the time, it was dual instruction and I was demonstrating my prowess at aerobatics. Half way round a slow roll, at the inverted stage, amidst the shower of dust and bits that fell onto the canopy when negative 'g' was applied, was a mouse. It hit the canopy Perspex and started to run, little legs going like road runner - only thing was, it didn't move, Perspex not being the best medium for mouse feet purchase. By the time we had recovered our wits we were the right way up and all the crud, plus mouse, had fallen back again. Now, the thought, of a mouse nibbling away at our important bits - and those of the aircraft - didn't impress us one bit and so we hatched a cunning plan, the outcome of which was to despatch our furry friend into the atmosphere through the open canopy. Round we went again, holding negative 'g' until our eyes popped - no mouse. There then followed a protracted period of high positive and negative 'g' manoeuvres up, down and sideways which proved to be very frustrating because - no mouse; plenty of dust and bits flying about but the bloody mouse defied all attempts to dislodge it. We had a fit of the giggles at the thought of the damned thing hanging on to one of the stringers with all four legs wrapped round, but eventually had to head for base at the close of the exercise. Occasionally we threw in another roll or two to try and catch it out, but had no luck. Subsequently there was a hilarious exchange between ourselves and the Flight Sergeant who had read our after flight entry in the form 700 - mouse clinging to aircraft structure and refusing to come out.
All this is by the by, Wally was moving on. "This aircraft is prone to flutter" he said "always check these plates are in position, but even if they are she'll still flutter if the conditions are there." "What conditions?" I said "strong thermals hitting one wing or the other" he said, "irrespective of airspeed", "Do you have club parachutes?" I said, "no" says Wally nonchalantly, "everybody buys their own." Time to get the old veins prepared for a bit of neat adrenaline flow I thought.
I had a practice run (at adrenaline flow) on my first solo. I was flying the Puchacz and I noticed pretty early on, like when I was strapping in, that it didn't have a compass. The tug launched into the luft and literally headed for the hills some five miles away, Injun territory as far as I was concerned, not being familiar with the area; I tried to keep a picture of what was going on but equally had to concentrate pretty hard on maintaining station, bumps and thumps in the heated atmosphere making the flight as rough as a goat's knee - maybe that's why they fly low tow in Oz, you didn't lose sight of the tug when you were heaved upwards in a strong thermal; mind you, seeing the tow rope rings seemingly just inches from your nose on release was not a pretty sight to begin with. Come the revolution, I had to get off; the tug pilot seemed intent on putting maximum distance from the airfield in the time available and I wound the Puchacz round pretty sharply to see if I could catch sight of the beggar heading back - no such luck, I know I was pointing more or less in the right direction and scanned the horizon and unfamiliar countryside looking for a big field; there were none in sight and gravity was doing a pretty good job of returning me earthwards. Two thousand feet came and went and I had resigned myself to the ignominy of a land out on my first solo and had actually selected a likely looking field a short distance ahead. It wouldn't had been a popular move, as far as I know there was no trailer for the Puchacz and it was this that was winding me up more than the land out. Bill, of mouse fame, had regaled me with a horrifying tale of his first land out, miles from anywhere, - such is the vastness of Australian countryside that it took the rescue team sixteen hours to find him, dehydrated, and covered in insect bites and quite resigned to the fact that he was going to perish. Not that this was going to happen to me, but it was always to be a consideration, along with the snakes and spiders, when flying there.
At this stage I found a thermal and managed to scratch back a couple of thousand feet. The town of Singleton was visible in the distance and from there I could locate the river bed and from that found the airfield which was now dead ahead but had been hidden behind some trees: Back to normal pulse rate.
By this time I was more at ease with the geography of the place and quickly got familiar with the landmarks in a ten mile radius as time went on, but then got a real fright. I was flying a Junior and just enjoying poddling about, the thermals were not very strong but sufficiently interesting to keep me aloft at anything from fifteen hundred to three thousand feet. I had more or less decided to abandon the sortie as the lift seemed to be dying when I caught sight of three eagles soaring a thermal a short distance away. Needless to say I joined them, beady eye to beady eye and was quickly swept up to about six thousand, where the thermal died. At this stage I was quite overwhelmed by the euphoria of a decent height gain and the fact that I was so close to these magnificent birds. My descent to the airfield close by was a series of wide orbits, to position on the deadside of the runway in use with height in hand to carry out a decent circuit pattern. I had so much height in hand that I got careless, high key was very high key and I widened the circuit to take this into account. Thumb in bum and mind in neutral, I extended the downwind leg as well to such a degree that when I turned base leg I could hardly see the runway threshold and I knew I wasn't going to make it. Below was a big dense plantation of tall gum trees extending into the near distance, the thought crossed my mind that I was going to be flown back to England in my own private compartment, lead lined and made of wood! To say that my heart was in my mouth would be an understatement of the year, it was so far into my mouth that I could have chewed it, but for the fact that my mouth was so dry I didn't have any spit. At the other end of my anatomy I was, to coin an RAF expression, pinching buttons and lord knows what my heart rate was, but it was pumping neat adrenaline.
I had angled in towards the runway threshold, the sight picture of which was so far up the canopy that I had to raise my eyes to see it and was heading towards an area of rough and boulder strewn beige coloured slag, the waste from the open cast coal mine nearby. It was the only opportunity available for a landing and upped the options from a wooden box to a stretcher and wheelchair. It stood about 150 feet AGL and I reckoned I could make it with about 200 feet in hand. Someone, somewhere must have been rattling a set of beads for me, the area was radiating enough heat to give me about one up. Beyond the bank I knew there was a steep sided gully with water in the bottom, an even better option, box, stretcher and chair looked set to be changed for serious loss of face and ignominy: Then I could hardly believe my luck; as I crossed the gully there was a tremendous surge as a large bubble of warm air hit me fair and square below. Suddenly I was back at normal height for the distance I still had to fly, and even had to extend the airbrakes to land - what a relief, I sure as hell learned about gliding from that.
There were other heart thumping experiences whilst I was there, like hitting rough air in the Jantar at 10,000 feet (no parachute) with the airspeed some 15-20 knots above rough airspeed figure, both hands on the stick to hold the nose down despite full forward trim close to cloudbase and no blind flying instruments, unwilling to remove a hand to extend the airbrakes because both hands were so slippery with sweat that I was afraid the stick would fly out of only one sweaty palm. The resultant change of attitude would have pulled the wings off. Later on during this flight I thought the wings were coming off as a series of hefty cracks assailed my ears. These turned out to be caused by grape sized scattered raindrops hitting the canopy when I was rattling through the air at 140 knots or so - what a relief.
I enjoyed my gliding in Australia, it made a pleasant change to hear the vario chirping away like a demented canary whilst soaring, some of the thermals were like tower blocks and the streets went on for miles. The Australians themselves are a relaxed and friendly people, we had a saying about them in the RAF - "Peculiar chaps these Australians, they fart in the bath and call each other bastards"; I can vouch for part of that statement but I never found out about the rest!!
By Dennis Carey
I got out my calculator as the article said, and converted the bee's wing loading of 1gram/cm2 into something more recognisable. It came to 10 kg/metre2 (2lbs/ft2), which compares with about 4lbs/ft2 for a large soaring bird and 8lbs/ft2 for a modern sailplane. At a flying speed of 1 metre/sec, as a fixed wing aircraft, the bee would need to generate a lift coefficient of about 2, which is rather optimistic for an uncambered airfoil section in steady flight, but feasible in accelerated motion.
Examples of accelerated motion are when the airflow velocity or angle of attack increases very rapidly. In both cases, the instantaneous lift generated by the wing is increased temporarily, i.e., it overshoots the steady state value, and then declines back to its steady state after the wing has travelled some distance at a steady velocity, or angle of attack. In practice, the amount of overshoot depends on the rate at which the speed or angle of attack changes, but it can be in the region of 100% of the steady state lift. The reason why this occurs is that it takes some time to re-establish a new steady state airflow around the wing.
If the bee was only able to flap it's wings up and down then it would not be able to go anywhere, except down wind, even if it was able to take off!, so it's wing motion must be much closer to that of a helicopter - as Andrew Watson suggested, or possibly that of a humming bird, which twists and sweeps it's wings simultaneously back and forth rather like a reversible pitch propeller. In fact, the airflow over it's wing is never "steady" at all. The analogy with a helicopter rotor can be carried much further, and provides a more plausible explanation of the bee's ability to fly forward, as well as hover.
The fact that the bees wings are oscillating back and forth, and rotor blades go round in a circle, is quite irrelevant, as the only thing that matters is the increase in the downward vertical momentum of the air, however it is caused.
Hovering is the most energy intensive mode of flight there is, particularly when carried out well away from ground effect, and typically requires three to four times more thrust, power and energy than horizontal flight.
In helicopter aerodynamics an important parameter is the weight divided by the rotor area, otherwise know as the disc loading, which is analogous to the wing loading on a fixed wing aircraft. There is a simple relationship between the rotor disc loading and the power/ weight ratio, which means that as the disc loading increases, more power is needed to lift the same amount of weight.
For our bumble bee sweeping its wings back and forth and hovering just like a helicopter, the disc loading will be about half of it's wing loading, say 0.5 gram/cm2 (1lb/ft2.), or possibly less. This is a very low value for a helicopter rotor, and has the advantage that the rotor will produce a large amount of thrust for the power input. It works out at about 20grams/watt, which means that our bumble bee will have to produce about 0.05 watt/gram of body weight to remain airborne in hovering flight, which it obviously does!
In comparison, a champion male cyclist can produce about 500 watts for around 60 seconds, which works out at a power/weight ratio of approximately 0.01watt/gram of body weight. This was the figure assumed in the design of man powered aircraft some years ago. It is interesting to note that all of the successful man powered aircraft used a horizontal take off, and as far as I know, no one has ever built a successful man powered helicopter.
Evidently the humble bumble bee has much to teach us, and the question "how does a bumble bee fly?" should be rephrased into "where does it get the energy?"
Perhaps it eats Weetabix!
D.J.C.
Compiled by Alan Dennis
In the past few years the Global Positioning System (GPS) has drastically changed navigation in gliding. Although it should never be used as a replacement for a map and traditional navigation techniques, they can make life far less stressful. A GPS will always know where the glider is even if you don't. Linked to a flight computer (i.e. an electronic John Willy) they can provide a definitive Yes/No answer to the age old question "will I make it back or not?" and linked to a flight recorder (an electronic barograph) can provide a trace of your flight afterwards to prove just where you really went. ("Well I could see Kendal..."). All in all they're pretty remarkable tools but how can they figure out exactly where you are?
The basic principle behind GPS is simple: if you know where a landmark is located, and you know how far you are from it, you can plot a circle (if you're on the ground) or sphere (if you're flying and can use three dimensions!) of all of the possible places you can be around that landmark. If you plot two more circles or spheres around different landmarks, you know that your location is the point where all three cross.
With GPS, the landmarks are a constellation of satellites. There are 24 active satellites and one or more spares in orbit. Unlike satellites used for television broadcasting which always remain in the same position above the earth (geosynchronous), GPS satellites are constantly moving. Although they are moving very rapidly, their positions and orbits are known with great precision at all times.
Four GPS satellites are arranged in each of six orbital planes, take approximately 12 hours to orbit the earth and are located at a height of 10898 nautical miles. The orbits are distributed evenly around the earth, and are inclined 55 degrees from the equator. From any position on the surface of the earth, there are always sufficient satellites in view to provide a timing and location service. Despite this, satellite availability is not always 100%; the system has been biased towards operation over the populated globe with the result that coverage suffers towards the poles (above 600N and below 60°S).
Part of every GPS receiver is a radio receiver listening for the signals being broadcast by these satellites. Each spacecraft continuously sends a data stream that contains its orbit information, equipment status, and the exact time. All of the information is useful, but the exact time is crucial. GPS receivers have computers that can calculate the difference between the time a satellite sends a signal and the time it is received hence it knows how long the signal took to travel from the satellite to the receiver. Because all radio waves travel at the speed of light, it also knows how fast the radio wave was travelling. The computer multiplies the time and speed together to get the distance between the GPS receiver and the satellite (Time X Speed = Distance).
RECEIVER CLOCK ERROR
In order to be able to accurately calculate a position, the GPS receiver has to have an extremely accurate clock with which to time how long the signal takes to travel. The orbiting satellites have extremely accurate (and expensive!) clocks that use the vibrations of an atom as the fundamental unit of time, but if GPS receivers had similar atomic clocks they would be much too expensive for recreational users. Since precise measurement of time is so critical to the system - a clock error of only one thousandth of a second causes a position error of almost 200 miles - the system designers were faced with a dilemma.
Geometry to the rescue! It turns out that GPS receivers can use inexpensive quartz clocks (like the ones used in wristwatches) and still come up with extremely accurate position fixes as long as one extra circle/sphere of position is calculated. How does this work? First, imagine two earthbound landmarks with well-known positions. For example cities such as London and Edinburgh. If we measure the travel time of radio waves from each of these cities to Barrow, we can use the known speed of the radio waves to compute two circles of position that cross. If our clock is a little fast, those position lines will show us to be closer to both cities than we really are; the lines will cross, but the crossing point might be somewhere to the east near to Sedburgh perhaps. On the other hand, if our clock is too slow, the radio waves will seem to take longer to get to us, and the position lines will show us to be farther away from the landmarks than we really are. The lines might cross near the Isle of Man, to the west.
Now, if we get just one more position circle - from Belfast, let's say - the three circles would form a triangle, and the centre of the area in this triangle is our REAL position. The clock error is the same for all three lines, just in different directions, so by adjusting the clock in the GPS receiver the triangle can be reduced in size until it converges on our true position.
Since the receiver must adjust its clock to be precisely in sync with GPS time, a GPS receiver can be used as a precise time reference with atomic accuracy.
For accurate two-dimensional (latitude and longitude) position fixes, then, we always need to get signals from at least three satellites to get around receiver clock error. Fortunately, there are now enough GPS satellites orbiting the earth to allow even three-dimensional position determination (latitude, longitude, and altitude, which requires signals from at least FOUR satellites) anytime, from anywhere in the world. The more satellites your receiver can "see" at one time, the more accurate your position fix will be, up to the system's standard accuracy limit of a few hundred feet.
HOW ACCURATE?
The Standard Positioning Service (SPS) available to civilian users should give 20 metre horizontal accuracy. The vertical accuracy is about 1.5 times worse than horizontal, due to satellite geometry - Satellites are more likely to be near the horizon, than directly overhead.
However because the U.S. Department of Defence (DoD) is responsible for the GPS system, it reserves increased accuracy for military users. For this reason, the satellites broadcast a coded signal that only special military receivers can use, providing positions that are about ten times more accurate than those available with standard receivers.
Also, random errors are put into the satellite clock signals that the civilian GPS receivers use which is intended to prevent "the enemy" from making tactical use of the full accuracy of GPS.
The accuracy is normally degraded to 100 metres (95% of the time) due to Selective Availability (SA). (That is, the reported position will be within 100 metres of the true position 95% of the time.)
SA is normally on, but was rumoured to have been turned off during the Gulf War (There is apparently no official confirmation...), presumably because the military didn't have enough military receivers to go around. They apparently now have sufficient military grade receivers, so we shouldn't expect SA to be turned off for this reason again.
In early Feb. 96, the US government passed a law that appears to require the military to turn SA off by May 1, 96. The first bill that covered this was vetoed, but the language was added to another bill that did pass, and was signed by the president. However, that bill is worded such that the military could (and did) find a way to legally leave SA on. On March 29, 1996, the White House announced that SA would be removed in four to ten years (i.e. somewhere between 2000 and 2006), so we appear to be stuck with it for some time, unless there is a change in policy.
So the errors that degrade the system accuracy are as follows for commercial navigation receivers: Satellite clock error 2 ft. Ephemeris error (i.e. the satellite being away from its reported position) 2 ft. Receiver errors 4 ft. Atmospheric/ ionospheric 12 ft. Selective Availability 25 ft. Total (root-sum-square) 15 - 30 ft depending on SA The predicted accuracy is calculated by multiplying the above figure by the PDOP (Position Dilution of Precision - a figure related to the satellite geometry) which typically will range from 4 to 6. This gives accuracies of 60 - 100 ft (30 m) without SA, up to 350 ft (100 m) with SA.
The error values are given as "2*sigma" values - for those (like myself) who don't do statistics, this means that the readings should be distributed theoretically as follows (for a 2*sigma of 100 metres): 68% of values are better than sigma (50 metres) while 32% of values are worse than sigma. 5% of values are worse than 2*sigma (100 metres) 1% of values are worse than 2.6*sigma (130 metres) 0.3% of values are worse than 3*sigma (150 metres) 0.006% of values are worse than 4*sigma (200 metres) 0.00006% of values are worse than 5*sigma (250 metres). In practice since SA is an artificially generated error, the error distribution may be clipped somewhere between 2 and 3 sigma, to virtually eliminate the extreme deviations.
The accuracy can be improved by averaging readings over some time. When taking readings for this purpose, there is apparently no point in taking the readings more often than every 15 min, or so. By averaging for 15 - 20 hours, 10 metre accuracy is possible. For 24 hours, 5 metres and for 48 hours 3 metres.
High accuracy, down to centimetres as used in Survey Systems, are achieved with much different equipment. These systems use both frequencies, and differential measurements, comparing the data from a roving receiver with that from a fixed receiver at a known location. These measurements actually determine the _difference_ in position between the fixed and roving receivers to great precision, rather than determining the absolute position of either one.
SINGLE-FREQUENCY OPERATION
The way GPS receivers pick up the satellite signals is pretty interesting: all of the satellites broadcast their messages on just two frequencies. These are known as L1 (1575.42 MHz) and L2 (1227.60 MHz). The L1 signal carries two sets of coded data - the protected (P) code, and the coarse/acquisition (C/A) code. The L2 signal only carries the P code. When a feature called "Anti-Spoofing" is active, the P code is encrypted, and known as P(Y) or Y code.
Civilian navigation receivers can only use the C/A code on the L1 frequency (although some high-end civilian surveying GPS receivers can utilise the carrier frequency of the L2 band for more precise measurements).
Each satellite uses a unique identification code to encode the data it transmits to produce a unique pattern from each one. The receiver determines which message is from which satellite by matching the patterns with those stored in its memory. This is what happens when you first switch a GPS on and it has to acquire the satellites - it's trying to recognise the jumble of patterns arriving from the satellites. The GPS system needs to use this tortuous method because all of the satellites are transmitting at the same time on the same frequency - a bit like standing in a room with many people speaking at the same time - you can listen to what only one person is saying among all of the conversations taking place simultaneously. This technique allows GPS receivers without backyard-sized dish antennas to reliably use the tiny signals that the satellites transmit toward earth.
CONTROL OF GPS
Left on their own, satellites will eventually get lost and forget what time it is. Hence there is a need to track the satellites and update new position and time information Each satellite receives an update at least once per day. To keep track of time, identical satellite clocks are present on earth and are referenced to other accurate time sources so that clock errors can be calculated. To track the satellites' positions, a technique called inverted navigation is used. Here the L1 and L2 signals are used by ground stations to locate the satellite positions with high accuracy There are five ground stations for this purpose which are mostly unmanned. The master control station is located in Colorado and performs the satellite updating.
WHAT IS THE AUGUST 1999/YEAR 2000 PROBLEM?
Rather than counting days, months, and years, the GPS system keeps a count of weeks since Jan 6, 1980. It uses a counter for this, which can only count up to 1023 weeks. so, at midnight Aug21/22 1999, this counter will "roll over" to zero. Someone noticed this, and forecast the end of the GPS system at that time. However, this roll over is an expected event, and will be handled correctly by the GPS system itself, and by most GPS receivers. Some very early navigation receivers would not handle this, but all currently produced receivers are apparently OK. Garmin, Lowrance, Eagle and Rockwell have all stated that their receivers will work correctly (Rockwell receiver boards are used in receivers sold under other brand names).
WHAT ARE THE SPEED AND ALTITUDE LIMITATIONS?
The system has no inherent speed or altitude limitations (GPS has been used on satellites for position determination), but the US requires that commercial receivers be limited to operate below about 900 knots and 60,000 ft. It is apparently possible to get permission to bypass these limits for specific applications (research rockets, etc.).
Garmin used to limit their non-aviation models (40 and 45 at least) to operation below 90 knots. Above this speed, the receiver displays an error message and stops updating the position. This is apparently a marketing decision to force aviators to purchase the more expensive aviation models which incorporate an aviation waypoint database. They discontinued this practice with the advent of their 12 channel parallel units (GPS 12/12XL/II+/III).
WHY DOES THE REPORTED ALTITUDE VARY SO MUCH?
Primarily due to satellite geometry. To get the most accurate altitude and location, you should use satellites that are located at close to right angles to each other and one directly overhead. However, the satellites are more likely to be nearer the horizon, and a receiver will likely choose satellites nearer the horizon in the interests of getting a more accurate horizontal position, since that is what most navigators are interested in. The error in altitude is typically about 1.5 times the horizontal error.
The altitude may also appear to vary more than the horizontal position, since it is given in "normal units" (feet or metres).
Also, the real altitude, as given by the altimeter, is known better than the lat/long, making the error more obvious.
WHAT ARE WAYPOINTS AND ROUTES?
A waypoint is just a position stored in the GPS receiver's memory. The receiver can calculate the distance and direction (and time-to-go) to the waypoint, and can indicate which way to turn to get to the waypoint.
A route is a series of waypoints. When navigating a route, the GPS will automatically change the destination waypoint to the next waypoint on the list as it reaches each waypoint. The GPS receiver usually sounds an alarm, and requires an acknowledgement, before making any course change.
HOW DOES A GPS CONNECT TO OTHER EQUIPMENT?
Most navigation receivers have NMEA-0183 data outputs to send data to other instruments. NMEA-0183 is a standard developed by the National Marine Electronics Association for data communications between marine instruments. It is also widely used in the aviation world and is the format needed by most flight computers and recorders.
Many receivers also have proprietary data formats which are used (in the case of navigation receivers) to transfer waypoint lists, track logs and other data between the GPS and a computer, and also to pass data which is not covered by the NMEA standard.
OTHER SATELLITE NAVIGATION SYSTEMS
The Navy Navigation Satellite System (NAVSAT, also known as TRANSIT or Sat-Nav) is an older system using four or five satellites in polar orbits. It provides fixes every hour or so, rather than continuously as with GPS. It also requires the receiver to be in a fixed position while taking a fix, or to be moving on a known course at a known speed.
GLONASS is a Russian system similar to GPS. There are no inexpensive GLONASS receivers at present. This system provides accuracy that is nominally better than GPS with SA on and not as good as GPS with SA off. However, due to funding problems within the Russian military, the GLONASS system currently has a number of failing satellites and empty orbital slots that can cause high DOP/positional errors, so the actual reliability of a GLONASS fix is lower than that of GPS. There is a combined GPS+GLONASS receiver system available which has very high accuracy.
The FAI and BGA use the term GNSS - (Global Navigation Satellite System) as a generic term for specific systems such as the Russian GLONASS and US GPS.
Rip Pearson
My posting to Cyprus occurred in the Autumn of 1954. British military forces in those days were spread all over the world, Cyprus was in MEAF (Middle East Air Force) and RAF Transport Command was used by all three services to move military personnel to the various theatres of operations. The aircraft used were Hastings or Valettas, the former a four engined aeroplane, the latter had two. Both were piston engined and transit to some of the far flung outposts was a long haul, using staging posts as necessary to refuel and/or night-stop, and also to locate or relocate military passengers on the move. This included families; most of our overseas commands were what is called "married accompanied" but it was very rare for a serviceman to be accompanied by his family on his initial flight out. All the organisation for the movement of passengers was done by the RAF as part of the Transport Command operation and it was a highly efficient service.
A Hastings
It may not be appreciated that travel abroad in those days was a great adventure to many people. The convenience of tour operators travel was there but was not used by the majority of holidaymakers, who tended to make British seaside resorts their holiday locations. Indeed, I once had the dubious distinction of being asked to leave a nude show on the golden mile in Blackpool on one of my leaves, because my friend and I were rolling about with laughter at the presentation, which was a far cry from the compere's build up and would probably qualify for a prosecution under the Trades Description Act in today's climate. Still, that is another story and the illustration is meant only to demonstrate that I was pretty naive when it came to travel. It was with a sense of adventure, therefore, that I presented myself for an early morning take-off from RAF Lyneham, in Wiltshire.
My flight to Cyprus staged through Malta and Egypt and took many uncomfortable hours. The Hastings was a noisy aeroplane powered by four radial engines, so any conversation with a seat companion was a shouting match. Add to this the fact that the seats were not the most comfortable in the world and the aircraft operated at medium to low level (below 10,000ft), at the mercy of all turbulence and weather, and one can see that there is a wealth of difference between cruising at 30,000ft plus in a quiet holiday jet and flying by Hastings. Air sickness was a misery suffered by many on these long journeys, which made them seem even more interminable.
I was astonished at how brown and bare Malta looked, being so used to green landscape of England but it was still hot, bathed in the late October sunshine. It was a pleasant relief to relax in the sun with a cold beer and take in the sights and sounds of a new country, feeling very new and white amongst so many suntans. The next stop was to be RAF Fayid in Egypt and we arrived at night, from where we were transported to El Hamrah to be accommodated prior to a departure the following morning. Accommodation at El Hamrah was, literally, a tent in the desert and I took to my campbed feeling like an explorer.
The following morning was a bit of a let down. I awoke to the sound of birds twittering and was pretty curious to see what sort of bird life was prevalent in Egypt. It turned out to be sparrows manning the rooftop and gutters of a nearby building, behaving as sparrows do. Why I expected more I don't know, but it must be obvious I was pretty naive. I felt a little more "overseas" when I saw my batman, who was dressed in native garb and moved silently on bare feet. He gave me a flashing smile and presented me with a cup of tea. He couldn't speak a word of English and departed as silently as he came, after first filling my washbowl from a large enamel jug. With such basic ablution facilities I felt even more like an explorer, I almost expected Doctor Livingstone to appear in the tent entrance, complete with pith helmet and regulation shorts.
The primary task of the unit to which I was posted in Cyprus was target towing. Instead of shooting at things I was going to be shot at!! The aircraft being used to tow targets, which were banners (flags) and gliders, were Meteors, with which, of course, I was very familiar. Almost all the fighter squadrons in MEAF were equipped with the De Havilland Venom, except for one, which had Vampires. Each squadron in turn came to Cyprus for their armament practice camp, rather as we did to RAF Acklington in the UK. In addition to our target towing task, the unit had a full day fighter commitment, as it was the only unit operating the Meteor day fighter in MEAF.
Cyprus turned out to be a very interesting tour of duty. Our daily routine consisted of a variety of tasks - target towing, high level interceptions, gunnery, dive bombing, rocketing. We were the only Meteors in the RAF equipped with rocket rails and bomb racks; ground attack using cannon or rockets was a new experience, as was dive bombing and I thoroughly enjoyed it. In addition we were attached for short periods to the Venom squadrons to fly their aircraft operationally. Every pilot worth his salt loves a new type of aeroplane and I took to the Venom like a duck to water. It was a diminutive fighter compared to the Meteor, very agile, faster, and used in the day fighter ground attack (DFGA) role. It was powered by the De Havilland Ghost engine and you didn't sit in it, you strapped it on the cockpit was so small. Being so small it felt like part of you; when you closed the canopy it was like sitting with your head in a goldfish bowl. It was a delight to fly and I loved it.
My first brush with authority happened quite early during my tour. I was taxying out for take-off at normal fighter command speeds when I observed a small figure on the control tower balcony making slow down signals. With the supreme arrogance of any fighter pilot, who considered that anyone who didn't fly fighters, or didn't fly at all, was a pretty insignificant type, my response was a gesture similar to, and made famous by, Winston Churchill during WW2. Nor did I slow down. After landing I was summoned to the office of the Wing Commander Flying, who was the very person who had been ordering me to slow down. He said he was not amused at being given "up yours" signs by Flying Officers and would not tolerate "splitass" flying in any form. The Wing Co. was a bomber pilot through and through, I should have given him more respect as he had a very distinguished wartime flying career but, because he was one of them, I was as patronising as a junior officer could possibly be without being downright rude. We didn't hit it off from then on.
My next interview with the Wing Co. was not long following. I discovered during a high level sortie that there was a very sharp dividing line marking the level at which condensation trails formed. Without a second's thought about the outcome, I shot into con-trail level and skywrote an enormous phallic symbol, the size and shape of which would have turned the giant of Cerne Abbas green with envy. I had hardly landed before the summons came to report to the Wing Commander Flying. There was no point in trying to play the innocent, my artistic efforts were centred right over Nicosia at 35,000ft. They stayed there all day, only gradually dispersing, and I got a couple of extra Orderly Officer duties for my sins.
We had a resident Vampire squadron at Nicosia, No.14, Royal New Zealand Air Force. Needless to say the rivalry between and the RNZAF was intense, being both international and intersquadron and every opportunity was taken to "bounce" or otherwise harass one another's formations. My golden opportunity for a classic "bounce" occurred when 'I espied a lone Vampire wandering about a few' thousand feet below my own level. As I positioned high into sun it was obvious he was completely unaware of my presence and I barrel rolled high overhead to bring me into the correct position for a copy book quarter attack. It was almost artistic, the gunsight pipper was glued to his cockpit canopy and the diamonds enclosed the wingtips, our Vampire pilot was a dead man. The attack complete I climbed steeply away at full power, the Vampire could out-manoeuvre the Meteor with ease but it couldn't catch it and was completely outclassed in a zoom climb. I rolled the wings slightly and looked over my shoulder to check his response and, to my astonishment, it was nil - nothing. I continued to climb and roll, up and over, until ground was above head where sky used to be and I had the target nicely lined up for the completion of my second barrel roll attack. This time I made sure he was aware of my presence by flying underneath him after completing the attack and giving him the benefit of my jet wake as I pulled up into a loop in front of him. Again nothing, no reaction. By this time I was seriously concerned about him and convinced there was something wrong. A well trimmed aeroplane will fly hands off for ages before gravity or some other disturbance affects the balance - I was sure the pilot was suffering from lack of oxygen. With this in mind I slowly eased into close formation and had a look in his cockpit. The helmeted figure seemed unaware of my presence for a few seconds then the head slowly turned towards me. Two cold blue eyes stared into mine and, with a jerk of the head, the figure indicated we should return to the airfield. By now it must be pretty obvious that my Vampire pilot was none other than the Wing Commander Flying. I was getting quite used to the interior decor of his office by now, but I was unrepentant and said so, indicating that any pilot flying a fighter should keep his eyes peeled against the possibility of attack, and that it was inherent in our training to be fighter aggressive. It didn't go down too well but he had to accept what I said, nevertheless the black marks were piling up.
They continued to pile up for the rest of the tour, obviously we were never going to get along. It was the classic syndrome of bomber versus fighter pilot and the Wing Co. would not learn to fly a fighter (there were no bombers at Nicosia) like a fighter. My final brush was during a ceremonial formation flypast. It took in a large area of the island and probably celebrated the Queen's birthday or somesuch. It also "showed the flag". By this time British military forces in Cyprus were not popular, the EOKA campaign was in full swing.
The Wing Co. led the formation and all went well until the final run in to fan break into the circuit at Nicosia. Yours truly was leading the last section of four, all sections stepped down line astern of the leading four in echelon starboard. We were scraping the deck at 200ft or so, at 300knots, when the Wing Co. decided that it was a bit fast for circuit flying (it was a normal run in speed) and popped his airbrakes without warning. In typical motorway shunt fashion the sections each slid under the one in front - in my case I was craning my neck backwards to keep the others in sight (overhead). The radio was alive with yells of warning and frustration, I could only make frantic hand signals for airbrakes then throttle back. At that height there was no room for manoeuvre and I was frightened; there would be no escape if anything went wrong. My number four, on the edge of the echelon, banked steeply away, I was convinced he would hit the deck - he almost did. When things settled down I pressed the transmit button. I only said three words but they were enough to indicate doubt on the Wing Co.'s parentage and intelligence. The voice was unmistakable and the result inevitable, again I was admiring the interior of the Wing Co.'s office and being asked if I was the originator of the tell tale words. I lied and said "no". I had learned by this time that George Washington was a damned fool to admit to cutting down his father's cherry tree and one gained nothing but trouble by always telling the truth. He knew he had done something stupid - I wasn't trying to save my skin and I knew those three words expressed the feelings of the whole formation.
Part of our duties was to act as range safety officer on the air to ground range. Air to ground attacks were demonstrated dual initially, using a forestry commission hut as target and the camera gun as the weapon (You may recall from previous articles that the camera recorded through the gunsight). When you were considered proficient, you were despatched to the firing range to shoot bullets at ground targets from the air. The RSO sat in a concrete pillbox at the beginning of the range area and told the attacking aircraft how he was doing. The drill was for the fighters to join overhead and carry out a low level pass to assess break off height from features on the ground, followed by a dummy camera gun attack and then, if all was well, a live attack. On the day my unit was scheduled for the air to ground range, I sat in the pillbox awaiting the arrival of a pair of Meteors. They called me up and I cleared them for a safety height pass. I heard nothing, but thought little of it because of the concrete surrounds and headset I was wearing. "Am I clear to turn in for dummy attack" was the next call - "Clear dummy" was my reply and still I heard nothing. A live attack from both aircraft was then carried out, by which time I was pretty sure that something was amiss. On the next live attack I removed my headset and peered cautiously out of my concrete haven. I could hear the thud thud thud of 20mm cannon some way in the distance, and to my horror observed two Meteors knocking seven bells out of a forestry commission hut some two miles away. Fortunately the hut was constructed from woven wood - more like a birdwatchers hide really, and a few extra holes were hardly serious. I hoped and prayed there was no-one in it and called my two birds over to the firing area. There were no repercussions, so all was well.
During my tour in Cyprus we were often called to arms to intercept unidentified aircraft or suspicious surface vessels. The EOKA terrorists were being supplied by sea and by air, the air supply being carried out during hours of darkness, Many a dark unlit shape was stalked by night by our night fighters, who suffered the extreme frustration of having a target in radar range, and not being allowed to engage them because authority had to be obtained to open fire. In true British style, the "authority" was passed further and further down the line until it was too late, and our interloper left Cyprus airspace. An amusing incident occurred one night when we were night flying. Nicosia aerodrome was a joint Civil/Military airfield and non operational night continuation training was carried out at dedicated times outside civil aircraft operating hours. Venoms and Meteors were airborne and one of the Venoms had engine failure (the Venom was single engined) some distance from the airfield. In retrospect it must have been more serious than that, because the pilot had no time to make a radio call before baling out. In pitch dark our man was dangling in his parachute, fat, dumb and happy when an awful thought crossed his mind. He could hear the sound of jet aircraft whistling about and, realising that he was a bit vulnerable, thought to try to make himself visible, In order to achieve this he unclipped his torch, and started to flash SOS in Morse. Needless to say a signal flashing SOS in the night sky attracted immediate attention and, to a man, every aeroplane in the air went to investigate. Our hapless pilot was vary quickly surrounded by circling navigation lights and, discretion being the better part of valour, thought it prudent to extinguish his torch. His parachute descent soon had him out of danger and he landed quite safely in wild countryside, suffering only a sprained ankle. There were some interesting theories in the crewroom as to the source of these signals until all was revealed from the Venom squadron. Our pilot was rescued by helicopter, which had homed onto his emergency beacon transmissions. Just as well really; he hadn't a clue where he was in relation to roads or habitation and daren't move around too much making himself known, for fear of terrorist activity.
Being on such a beautiful Island it was obvious I was going to need wheels and I spent some time achieving this goal. As it turned out, the situation was not quite as urgent as I thought it would be because the Cypriot sales technique was to allow a prospective purchaser to take a car away for a day to consider. I considered several, my favourite being a Tickford bodied Morgan two seater, but my offer was gazumped and I settled for a 1948 Singer sports tourer; I remember one or two things about this car. It wasn't much of a sports car, having a three forward plus reverse gearbox, the bearings used to rattle during hard acceleration from scratch, the brakes were awful and the fuel consumption horrendous. I sorted the fuel consumption problem out by discovering that I was keeping the local populace supplied with petrol by dint of having my tank syphoned. An anti-syphon device inserted into the filler pipe improved my range from 18miles per gallon to over 30, but I had to put up with the rest. The lack of stopping power almost got me killed on one occasion. I was bombing along at the sort of speed young men do when ahead of me I saw an army patrol. One of the squad stepped into the road and indicated I should stop. I hit the brakes as hard as I could; there was a strong smell of burning Ferodo and little retardation, so I started making frantic signals to him to get out of the way. How he interpreted this I do not know but he took up a firing stance and presented his weapon. I was driving with the screen folded flat and started to yell at him as soon as I was in earshot. Not many Cypriots could swear like that and I presume he held his fire for that reason. Nevertheless he held his ground, playing "chicken" and when I did manage to stop, completely in the hands of the Almighty, my radiator was level with his webbing belt. He was a shaken man when I told him what my problem was, I was a shaken man when he told me how close he had been to putting a bullet through my head. We left it at that.
As time went on EOKA terrorism increased. A curfew was imposed and we had to carry out night foot patrols and spot checks. On one particular occasion the civilian population went on strike and all civilian motorised road transport, public and private, ceased. We knew there may be trouble with only military owned vehicles on the move and my own confrontation occurred between my home and the base. A large group of cyclists occupied the road ahead as I shot round a corners. On observing my approach they spread across the road, completely obstructing my passage. Again I knew the limitations of the braking system of the Singer and realised there was no way I could stop. Maybe this saved my neck, who knows? I chose a space between two cyclists and went for it. Miraculously (or wisely) they parted and I shot through. The sight through the rear view mirror was inspiring. I was treated to the spectacle of a line of cyclists falling over in symmetry, like a standing row of dominoes being toppled from one end.
A lot of the trouble was coming from youths and they were giving the island police and ourselves a hard time. Despite being issued with side arms the rules for using them were so restrictive that they were hardly worth carrying, especially as men were getting shot with their own weapons in certain circumstances. It was decided to reinforce the Cyprus Police Force with British policemen detached from the UK and the flower pot helmets soon became a familiar and reassuring sight amongst the flat caps of the Cypriot Force. I was in standing traffic one day, behind a large British Bobby controlling crossroads, when a Cypriot youth on a bicycle rode down the outside of the stationary vehicles, crossed the open road, approaching our man from behind, and made to duck under his outstretched arm to continue across the other half of the road. That copper must have had eyes in the back of his head and the strength of Hercules. As the cyclist went under his arm he grabbed him by the collar and pulled him clear out of his saddle. The luckless youth was held at arms length for a few seconds, kicking and struggling, and then dropped in an ignominious heap. The riderless bicycle continued until it ran out of steam and pranged in the verge on the opposite side of the road. It was like an episode from a Keystone cops movie and we all, Cypriot and British, fell about laughing.
In January 1956 the unit was moved from Cyprus to Malta. Rumours had been rife for many weeks that a move was planned but any official statements were not forthcoming and all was veiled in strict secrecy. We used to buy our fruit and vegetables from a Greek Cypriot who rode a bicycle festooned with as much and as many of his wares as he could possibly hook on and balance. It defied description and had to be seen to be believed, it was like a mobile hayrick with a head and legs. Well before the official announcement and briefing, he told me where and when we were going. So much for security!! On the 30th January I lifted off the runway at Nicosia en route for RAF Takali in Malta.
The next instalment of S&G Club News through the ages.
October 14, 1931 Vol. 2 No. 7
Stowed away as we are geographically, in this Northwest corner off England, with no Gliding Club within 70 miles, and scarcely ever a visitor from other clubs, our members, up to a month or so ago, derived their only encouragement from reading "News from the Clubs."
As with other Clubs our greatest, but by no means only, difficulty has undoubtedly been the lack of a really good site. Farmers generally have been most helpful; self styled sportsmen, with gun or golf club, just the reverse.
Here are we within easy reach of fine soaring terrain and training grounds, and yet for months obliged to withstand the ridicule of passers-by who laugh at our struggles to achieve a 15-seconds glide, and snigger when we attempt to point out our limitations. At last, like a "Bolt from the blue", we succeeded in securing for one day a site, which if not ideal, at least is far in advance of anything hitherto available.
The "old contemptibles" turn up, as it happens, in just sufficient numbers to carry out launching. Each man in turn is shot off the hill and dives over hedges into the landing field. We are staggered to find that we finish the day with the machine intact after a number of hazardous 15 second flights. The end of the day finds us tired, but fired with a new enthusiasm.
September arrives - the last month of our first year of operations- and with it a youth, Wasserkuppe trained in the person of Master Rex Watson (son of Mr Jas Watson, whose connection with the building off British Airships is well known). This young man proceeds to demonstrate that our much repaired BAC II can be flown so slowly that rocks, boulders and whin bushes need hold no terrors for an accomplished pilot when landing. Our Ground captain, Mr Stevens, decides a try-out, and after two attempts finally succeeds, by clocking 32 seconds, and that on a site long despised as being much too risky and dangerous - not that it isn't either. The dreaded stall having been robbed of its terrors by we now apply for extended permission for this site, which has brought the Club it's first "A" - and strangely enough we get it.
Sept. 20 arrives - all glorious and the weather OK - but the wind is coming from a different quarter, with the result that fresh hazards have to be contended with. However, nothing daunted, we get to work and Mr Stevens takes the first flight off the hill top, with boulders, roadways and walls beneath him yet to be dodged. There is much speculation as to whether he will safely reach the flat fields beyond.
Walk! Run!! Release!!! And away goes the machine on a flight which, as it proves, paves the way to club history. Here at last is a site which makes possible the securing of "A" tickets.
Mr Vernon Foster next takes over the controls and although his times are good (one flight was of approximately 40 seconds duration) he is not deemed to have qualified for his "A" on account off his devious course. Obviously the Observer was not prepared to recommend certificates cheaply.
Next comes our Ground engineer, Mr Butterfield, who by the way is older than he cares to admit (so he says, but his enthusiasm is youthlike) and weighs in at about 15 stone. The walls seem to worry him, and he is obsessed with the idea that he must dive to reach the safety of the greensward below. After smashing the rudder bar he is surely disillusioned, and at his third attempt, and with a time off 32 seconds, glides his way gracefully into our "A" team.
Mr Foster once again takes over, and thrills everyone as the rope leaves the hook prematurely. The machine settles on the tip off the hill, then lifts again, but with little or no forward speed. not being exactly desirous of trying conclusions with the wall beneath, the pilot turns and lands on the steep hillside amongst rocks and other obstacles. the machine is, however practically unscratched, and after examination enters the arena again. A great day concludes with a final flight by Mr Foster, and this time a well controlled flight earns him an "A" certificate with a time off 32 seconds.
On Sept. 27 conditions are once more ideal, and we assemble in good force. Interested spectators arrive, and plenty off willing helpers are available - a pleasant contrast after months of slogging.
Activities commence with a leas from the GC who records a 37 second flip. The machine responds perfectly to her controls and by lunch time we have bagged another two "A" tickets. Messrs Britton and Burnett are the fortunate ones, and it stands greatly to the credit of the acting instructor, Mr Stevens, that by adhering closely to his parting advice they are able to make perfect glides, thus not giving the Observer any occasion to withhold the awards.
On resumption of operations one more "A" is qualified for by Mr Redshaw, bringing our grand total up to six, and then practice in turns is carried out by the "A" men.
The spectators are delighted - there are no shocks, and the whole thing looks attractive.
Our appeal for new members now reads:- "Qualified instruction - "A" and "B" certificates guaranteed."
We at least feel in a position to invite other Gliding Clubs to contest with our members, so you may be sure you'll be hearing from us before very long - proposals are now receiving close attention. - WB
November 6, 1931 Vol. 1 No 9
The great progress made by the Furness Gliding Club was commented on by the speakers at a dinner following the second annual general meeting which took place in the Imperial Hotel, Barrow, on Monday evening.
Captain John Fisher, who presided, apologised to the gathering on behalf of Commander Craven and Col. W F A Wadham who he regretted were unable to be present, and welcomed the Mayor of Barrow, Herr Maggersuppe, Herr Haack, Major Filber, the distinguished representative of the Navy and all guests. He congratulated and thanked all those who had done such splendid work for the club. he was pleased to say that the club's "budget" was balanced and humorously reminded the company that their subscriptions were now due. There had been no casualties during the year and six members had qualified for "A" certificates. Emphasis was laid on the necessity for more machines for one can hardly run a club like that and expect to make such great progress when the machine was under repair.
Capt. Fisher went on to say that a better ground was needed - one which would be suitable for flying under all weather conditions. Continuing, the chairman said that Major Filmer, of Kendal had consented to come and tell the gathering what was being done there in the sphere of gliding. He wished the gliding club, which was contemplated, every success, and expressed a desire that there should be every possible co-operation between the two clubs. In conclusion Capt. Fisher paid a tribute to the untiring efforts of the hon. secretary, Mr R. Cuthell and the other officials of the club, who had done so much for its success.
Major Filmer, after giving thanks for his kind reception, said that the only progress made in Kendal had been to collect £50 or £60. He tendered his heartiest congratulations to the Furness Gliding Club on the wonderful progress they had made. He promised to make the suggestion to his committee that the Barrow and Kendal Clubs should combine in some way although no machine or flying site had been acquired. Major Filmer described in a graphic manner some of his experiences in one of the largest gliding schools in Germany which he had visited a few weeks ago. He repeated that he would do his best to bring about the amalgamation of the two clubs.
The mayor (Ald R T Dockeray) said he was there because he was interested in gliding. Although not a commercial proposition, it was giving great impetus to air traffic of the future. Recently when crossing the Atlantic he was struck by the grit the men who had flown the huge "pond" must possess. He hoped that the gliding club would continue to increase its membership, and said he felt inclined to give the club some help himself. He concluded by expressing the desire that the club would go from success to success and keep on the right road.
Ald. Dockeray then presented club badges to Messrs Stevens, Butterfield, Foster, Britton, Burnett and Redshaw.
In a brief speech Herr Magersuppe, the well known German sailplane expert thanked those assembled for their kind reception. He regretted that the weather had rather handicapped them on occasions, but they had given some very good shows. His explanation of the soaring of a glider in the face of a wind and his experiences in Germany and this country were described in a very illuminating manner. he ended by saying "We have tried to help the gliding movement over here by giving lectures and demonstrations. I am very glad to be able to say that gliding as a sport is building a bridge between England and Germany. I feel very much at home her, and I hope we shall continue to be united not only on the basis of politics, but also of the sport we all love so much." A cinematograph show of the club's activities was much appreciated, and provided splendid and instructive entertainment.
As a forerunner to the club dinner the club held it's second annual general meeting under the chairmanship of J H Saunders. The following officials were elected for the year 1931-1932: - President Commander C W Craven, RN; chairman Capt. John Fisher; vice-chairman Mr J S Redshaw; hon.. treasurer Mr H B MacLaren; hon. general secretary Mr R Cuthill; Ground captain and instructor, Mr W A Stevens; ground engineer Mr W Butterffield; Committee Messrs C A Britton, V Foster, R W Symons, J H Saunders, G L Lock and J S Redshaw.
HAZARDOUS MATERIALS INFORMATIOM BULLETIN
Managerial Safety Data Sheet
"Woman" – A Chemical Analysis
Element: Woman
Symbol: Wo
Discoverer: Adam
Atomic Mass: Accepted as 53.6kg but may vary from 40 – 200kg
Occurrence: Copious quantities in all urban areas.
PHYSICAL PROPERTIES
1. Surface usually covered in thin painted film.
2. Boils at nothing, freezes without known reason.
3. Melts if given special treatment.
4. Bitter if incorrectly used.
5. Found in various states ranging from common ore to virgin metal.
6. Yields to pressure applied at correct points.
CHEMICAL PROPERTIES
1. Has great affinity for gold, silver and a range of precious stones.
2. Absorbs large quantities of expensive substances.
3. May explode spontaneously without warning and for no apparent cause.
4. Insoluble in liquids but becomes malleable when saturated in alcohol
5. Most powerful cash reducing agent known to man.
COMMON USES
1. Highly ornamental, especially in sports cars.
2. Can be a great aid to relaxation.
3. Very effective cleaning agent.
TESTS
1. Pure specimens turn rosy pink when discovered in natural state.
2. Others turn green when placed beside a better specimen.
POTENTIAL HAZARDS
1. Highly dangerous except in experienced hands.
2. Illegal to possess more than one, although several can be maintained with adequate separation; direct contact results in exothermic reaction.
Alan Dennis
That's it! - The End...
Apologies for missing the publication date by a week - I was working away in Plymouth for a couple of days last week hence I didn't have time to put it all together. Sorry. Nag time - the next one of these is pencilled in for production on the 24th of June so please put your writing caps on and see if you can supply me with anything that might be of interest. I leave you with one such snippet from Peterborough in the Daily Telegraph:
From the Horsham Friday-AD: "Parachute for sale, once used, never opened, small stain."
See ya. Alan D.
Next Social: Saturday 22nd May
Hus Bos: Sat 29th May To Sun 6th June
Pocklington: Sat 21st to Mon 30th August
Portmoak: Sat 2nd to Sat 9th October
Annual Dinner: Sat 6th November
Christmas Party: Sat 11th December