I've not written a diary about crossing America. It was not without difficulty, but not too adventurous. The pictures can be found here though.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/126203497@N03/sets/72157647835781676/
I'm on my way home soon for a few months, the aircraft will be stored in San Diego until I can continue next spring.
I'll try and form a web site and better blog while I'm home.
CH.
KR-2 Worldtour
One of the smallest aircraft takes on one of the biggest aviation challenges
Monday 22 September 2014
Wednesday 20 August 2014
The diary complete and whole and free!!!
For all you who struggle to sleep at night, here is the complete diary from the day I left to the day I got tired of writing it.
I have given each day a day score, best if you are short of time to just read the flying days as they were the most fun. It's too long and woolly, but its what I will use for a base for reports or maybe even a book.
Enjoy. Just read the first day and arrival in Oshkosh first, they are worth reading. If you want to fill in the gaps then feel free to read more.
Colin.
Coventry to Wick 292 miles 3:27 hrs
Inverness was welcoming. Pretty quiet, but it was a Sunday night. By the
time I had parked the plane up outside my friend Pete’s old company, Direct
Flight, and dragged everything I needed from the plane, the last bus to town had
left and it was only expensive taxis that would pick me up. Town was only 6
miles away and I felt like a walk. An hour later and walking up the main A92
road with traffic belting past, I thought better of it. I did find a reindeer
horn though in the wilderness on the way to the road, which cheered me up. My
journey was coming alive, putting a smile on my face that I have not had for
years. A certain sparkle was happening, something almost spiritual with me.
Anyway, on the main road I eventually got the last main road bus to town. I
found a B+B, put my bags in my room and went out to have a look round Inverness and its River Ness and castle. I phoned a close
friend back at Shenington and we chatted about the fact that indeed I can’t
believe I‘ve finally got away. A month or two late from endless sleepless
nights trying to get the plane ready. But at the end of a fantastically happy
and sad first day, quite overwhelmed and emotional, I went back for a shower,
which I have not even had time for a few days. And clean and fresh and feeling
exhilarated from my jail break, I hit the sack and was out in seconds.
Reykjavik to Kulusuk 457 miles 3:28hrs
Oshkosh starts today and I’m 3,075 miles away still. What hope? If you
were a betting person, you wouldn’t back me to make it…
I have given each day a day score, best if you are short of time to just read the flying days as they were the most fun. It's too long and woolly, but its what I will use for a base for reports or maybe even a book.
Enjoy. Just read the first day and arrival in Oshkosh first, they are worth reading. If you want to fill in the gaps then feel free to read more.
Colin.
KR2
WORLDTOUR II
Day 1. 22nd June 2014 Shenington to Coventry 22 miles 0:28 hrs
Day score 10.
How to start? Well I know from
experience that I have to catch your attention in the first sentence or you will
put this down and walk away. Well I can for once not lie or exaggerate, but I
can definitely say that the journey was almost over before it started at the
end of the first day after a catastrophic failure of important engine parts!!!
But you will have to read on to find out how. (Oh by now I’m writing about the
third week and it’s definitely worth reading…)
Also, did I make it to Oshkosh …? Well from
the title and if you skip to the back page, this could be answered very
quickly. But this script for want of a better word explains the sometimes
unbelievable situations that arose from such a venture, and it is these
situations which have people gasping in disbelief that warrants me to write
them down for your amusement or bemusement, what ever your outlook on life…
So we begin…
I’m no good at good byes. I didn’t say
goodbye to my dearest friends around the country, nor my parents. I sort of
tricked them the last time I saw them all, saying I would call in again. They
know me well though. My parents are quite worried. It’s not really without
danger what I’m trying to do, so…
Neither did I want to get involved in
saying goodbye to the hundreds of members and
competitors at the Shenington Gliding Club Regional competition which is on at
my airfield this week. So I simply said goodbye to my teddy bears in my
caravan, locked the door and turned off the power and while everyone was in the
10 o’clock morning briefing, where they carry out prize giving and briefing for
today, I jumped into Itzy and taxied away. I had told everyone I was waiting
for paperwork, so no one was expecting me to just disappear, but shaking 200
pairs of hands and all the wishes of good luck would be nice but could take
hours…
At the far end of the runway I turned on
all the cameras, because this was not going to be any normal take off. Itzy, my
plane, named after the first aircraft I built, called Bizty, well Itzy was
heavy, heavier than I’d flown him before and there was no wind to help take off
into. But his tail rose at 30 knots and I dragged him off the ground half way
down the runway. I slowly climbed up to about 2,000ft and had a fond farewell
look around, hoping to fly back into here in a few years time. Joe, the
landlord said to say goodbye, so after a plane landed and the circuit was clear
I lowered the nose and beat his farm house up a bit, some 140kts and 20ft
before turning over the airfield and lining up with the Shenington Gliding
Club’s club house and hangar where all the members and competitors where still in
the briefing room. I cleared it by 20 odd feet as well, to express the fact
that after some 12 years of returning from the first journey to Australia,
after so many disappointments and none achievements, finally this year I was
setting off and I waved goodbye. The low flying would have got me in to a lot
of trouble, but by the time I get back, if I get back, they will all have long forgotten.
I landed at Coventry where my friends
Ben and Anne Marie were waiting to help me refuel to the top. I couldn’t take
off from Shenington full of fuel to get me to Wick in Scotland . The runways are too short.
I didn’t really say goodbye to them either.
I really am bad at that sort of thing. They are coming out to America this year, so hopefully we may meet up again in the USA .
I then had a bit of a problem going to my
destination of wick. It isn’t open on Sunday? Well I didn’t know, so my friends
John and Pete sorted things it out so I could go to Inverness instead. It was
almost as far.
Climbing out of Coventry I followed a route
east of the Birmingham airport control zone and I beat up my parents and my
childhood home in Stonnall, before heading on the way up to the east of the
Manchester zone. My parents were in the Lake District , where my Dad was
flying model float planes off Ullswater lake. I flew over the mountains then
down to just above the water, sort of like the Dambusters. I pulled up over
their camp site and saw them waving. It was the best equivalent good bye I
could give them as I climbed away waggling my wings.
Nothing much to add after that, but low
cloud over the Cairngorms to fly around. The radio was working well and so was
the plane. As the fuel burnt off the centre of gravity shifts further back.
This makes the plane more twitchy and you have to move forward the control
column. Thing was, without my parachute, which I normally wear, but there is
not much point over water, and there will be no one or nothing to hit where I
am going, I lay slightly further back. I was now holding the control column almost
with just my fingertips.
Thought for the day: I can’t believe I’ve
broke away from Shenington. Like a prisoner being set free from jail, yet I had
committed no crime. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I may feel better about this, but
the feeling most felt is just one of relief.
Day
2. 23/June/2014 Oh Bugger!
Day score 10.
Gosh I needed that sleep. They day
seemed bright and I went to catch the number 11A to the airport this time. I
have far too much gear to carry, but this should get better as the days go by
and my mass of paperwork clears. Arriving at the airport I cleared security and
got back to the plane. There was a lot to sort out. I definitely needed to move
the stick position further back for comfort, having flown most of yesterday
with my fingertips. And I needed to sort out cables and power leads for all the
cameras more. In Direct Flight there was an uproar as there was no internet.
Also John, the operations boss didn’t know who I was. My friend Pete, who had
organised my arrival here yesterday, had made everyone aware of my arrival,
except the operations boss, the one person who really needed to know. But he
was cool about it. I met another couple of pilots from the coast guard, about
to fly out over the North Sea in a Cessna 406 twin, gas turbo prop aircraft. They were going
out, checking on the fishing ships and boats off shore. I studied their dry
immersion suits. They were identical to mine. But then my friend had borrowed
on a long term basis the one he had given me from them a month or two before he
left their Scottish operation.
Back with the plane, David Barclay of Highland Aviation came
over to greet me. He explained the fuel would be cheaper if I bought it through
his Highland Aviation, instead of direct from BP. But as I only needed 20
litres to get to Wick, he went and got a jerry can and we poured it in. He
showed me around the hangar he shared with Direct Flight’s fishing vessel
inspection aircraft and the Coast Guard. We then walked to his offices outside
the airport complex, were I paid for the fuel. I went to pay landing fees at
Signature Aviation Handling services and nicked their pen. Don’t worry, with
the extortionate landing fee price, they can afford another one. I shook hands
with John at Direct Flight again, apologised for my friend not telling him
about my arrival and went to jump in the plane. I fired Itzy up, spent hours
with the camera set up again and taxied out to hold of Echo just short of the
runway to do run up checks. I turned off the left mag to test the right magneto
and the engine stopped? Dam… It really shouldn’t have done that! A dead mag? I
called up the tower to return to the apron but as a plane had followed me out and
was blocking my path back, I had to go up the runway, off at the end and all
the way around.
This could be a serious problem. One I
didn’t need for inconvenience, time and confidence. I took the cowls off and
got access to the magneto and coils. All looked alright. Bugger I didn’t have
the right allen key to get into the distributor cap. Just inside the open doors
of the hangar was a massive tool trolley. Who ever it belonged to I didn’t
know, but it was bound to contain the size I needed. Hhhmm. If anyone touches
my tool box I’m normally incensed, so I would prefer to find out who it
belonged to. As if by magic, the owner walked through the door and caught me
acting suspiciously around his pride and joy. Alan his name, top bloke and soon
I had put his mind at rest that I wasn’t a thieving bastard and he handed over
the right key.
I took the distributor cap off the right
magneto to find the brand new rotor arm I had fitted last month had
disassembled itself and destroyed the internals of the cap on its way. I took
the left cap off to find that the left arm was about to do the same thing!!!
Hang on, I had flown over the Cairngorms and other inhospitable lands and was
about to venture off over the foreboding north Atlantic and the engine
had almost quit. I had been lucky. If the other arm had fallen off the engine would
have stopped immediately, meaning a forced landing. One which I would have most
likely written the aircraft off and possibly done a lot of damage to it and me…
Shock set in I suppose. A realism that I had just used up all my good luck that
I’m going to need to get around the world, during the first flight.
What’s worse is that these are approved
parts that have broke... If I can’t get to the bottom of the problem and convince
myself of the integrity of their new bits, then I can’t even fly home and
definitely I can’t go on my journey. The journey and dreams of safe adventure
have stopped, even before it’s started… XXXX!
There had been talk of defective parts
in the latest light aircraft safety bulletin. People had been using parts not
supplied by the agent or manufacture… Heck even I had investigated using
cheaper suppliers than the main Jabiru engine dealer. But in the end, these
parts I had got were from the approved supplier… I needed to get a look at the
article again. I phoned my Dad, explained all, but he hadn’t got the magazine
at hand. Then I phone the head engineer of the Light Aircraft Association, who
govern my aircraft, to get him to send out another bulletin, to try and
eradicate the bogus parts. Ben, from Highland Aviation, who had been the pilot behind
me with a student in a Piper Tomahawk when I told the tower of my problem,
guided me to their briefing room. The flight safety article for the Jabiru
distributor arms was online. A quick look confirmed that indeed, for what ever
reason, I had been supplied and had been using the bogus parts. Apparently
others who had highlighted the problem said these bogus arms only last about 5
hours. Mine had done 4:40 hours… I phoned up the
agent, discussed it with them and ordered two more caps and arms. The agent
guaranteed this problem had been resolved and the new parts that would arrive
would be ok… Free of charge as well… Considering I could have just made an
aircraft shaped hole in the ground, so they should be…
Ben invited me to place Itzy in their
hangar, since I wasn’t going anywhere soon and showed me the code to the door.
That was it for the day. I might as well return to town. Back in Inverness , I phoned my
Dad to put his mind at rest. He was all for me coming home again till this
bogus part issue was all resolved. I didn’t want him or my Mum to worry. But
lets be honest here, they should be as I am…
The hotels were mostly full and the
cheapest I could find was £85. I’d begrudgedly paid £40 the night before. I might be away for 100 days. At an average
of £60 a night, that is £6,000.00 just on accommodation. I can’t afford that.
So after a Mc.Donalds burger I got back on the bus to the airport to go and
fetch the tent. Getting through security at that time of night was a bit of a
git, but never mind. Digging out the tent from the aircraft, it started to rain
heavily. The driest place was in the hangar so I blew up my airbed and kipped
there.
Thought for the day: What a difference a
day makes. Last night I walked around Inverness with my head
held high, full of excitement and a fury and thirst for adventure. Tonight I
was dragging my new expensive walking boots around, despondent and withdrawn.
Day
3. 24/June/2014 Riding out!
Day score 10.
I was introduced to the maintenance
staff of Highland Aviation, Paul Stanton and Barry Whatshisname, who I used to
work with 10 years ago at Coventry (small world). I helped them change two cylinders on a Piper
Warrior, well helped enough to not feel guilty about Itzy being in their hangar
and then proceeded to put my mountain bike together. Not easy the first time
and I had several problems with it, including a twisted chain? I needed to
cycle into town and acquire epoxy resin to bond on the new rotor arms when they
arrive. This could be bought from Caley Marina at the end of the Caledonian Canal . I cycled
there, bought the resin and some other stuff from town and cycled back. It
almost killed me. I haven’t ridden for months due to the extensive preparation being
done on my plane.
Back at the airfield, I had a look
around in the Highland Aviation Museum . It was closed but I still had a good look at what they had
got. I went to do some more internet work in the terminal and to sort out
photos I’ve took of loads of people but never sent them. But than as it got
late I put the tent back up and got some sleep.
Thought for the day: So unfit. So
overweight. Finishing the plane in a rush of extreme hours has done my body
some damage which I hope to repair on the journey.
Day 4, 25th June 2014 . Inverness a ride too far! Day
score 6.
I’d spotted a decent bike shop by the
canal, so went back there to buy some new brakes for my bike. They old ones had
seized up from lack of use and I’m not going to ride off road as I would like
to without decent brakes. The shop didn’t open till 10am , so I thought it would be nice to ride along the canal to Lock Ness . A beautiful ride out, but way
too far. I fell off as well, so back in town, with new brakes but a bloodied
knee, I got on the 11A bus with my bike. Back at the airfield the parts had
arrived and I bonded the arms in place and fitted the caps. The resin or glue needed
18 hours to set, so the earliest I could leave would be tomorrow noon . I also bought a big map of the world and some permanent marker
pens to mark on the route I intend to take around the world. Many people had
already asked what I was trying to do and I need a map to try and help explain
it. After I’d completed the route, I even wondered myself if I had taken on too
much?
Thought for the day: I loved riding the
bike again. It’s apart already and back in the plane.
Day 5, 26th June 2014 . Inverness to Wick. 81
miles 0:49 hrs
Day score 8.
The engine seemed fine. I waved goodbye
to everyone who had been so kind and flew up to Wick. When I landed I was met
by Drew, a pleasant funny young chap who brought over the refuel wagon and got
Itzy refuelled up to the brim. I followed him over to the old control tower where
Andrew Bruce of Farnorth Aviation has his offices. Andrew is famous or
synonymous with Atlantic crossings and ferry flights of light aircraft. He
showed me his stock pile of emergency gear he hires out to pilots who fly the Atlantic . They then
leave it with a college of Andrews some where normally Goose Bay in Canada on the other side, and if anyone wants to hire equipment over
there coming this way, then it gets brought back. He spared no end of time
answering my questions. He laughed at all my poor quality safety gear and said
I might as well not bother taking it. I saw all his points but knew in my mind
a way around all the issues he raised. Truth be told though, I asked him if he
thought I was being an idiot. If he had said “You’re being a fool!” I honestly
would turn around and go back home, such is his experience and knowledge. I
knew and had wanted to have this conversation with Andrew, whatever the outcome.
Even after all the years of planning. I knew there were risks, but I don’t
consider myself being a fool. He smiled and just added, “Don’t ever be in a
rush. Its pushing on into bad weather that kills people, so never be in a
rush!”
Well today was too windy, so I went down
town to get a new remote hard drive to store my video footage on, which looks
brill already by the way. Especially beating up the club house and my parents
in the Lake District . I have a camera pointing out the bottom of the fuselage. It’s
brill. The special durable hard drive I had specifically bought to download all
these camera video files to was buggered already. So Argos came up
trumps. I posted a load of stuff home as well, which I already knew I didn’t
need. Back at the airfield I spent hours on the computer in the airport
terminal again before leaving when it closed. With the tent out of the plane I went
to kip in the camp site down town. Walking past the harbour there was a sea
lion playing around the yachts which I filmed, beautiful sleek animal. I also wanted
to go to a decent chip shop on the harbour front, but it was closed, closed at 9pm. Everything was closed actually, the only options were a curry
or Chinese. Rather than a curry it was a Chinese Chicken Chow mein, eaten while
walking along the river away from town. I remembered walking this route with
Nadine some 10 years ago when we researched this Atlantic flight. Gosh how life
changes… I quite like Wick. Blimey… The camp site has gone… Things do change.
So I walked back up to the airport and put the tent up in a field behind the
car park and then finally bed…
Thought of the day: I’m glad I had this
chat with Andrew and I’m glad he didn’t say I was being a fool. That would have
put an end to the journey and a dampener on the day.
Day 6. 27th June 2014 . Wick.
Day score 4.
Too much of a head wind today and I had
lots of equipment failures to sort out already. The rest of the day was spent
talking to Andrew again and doing some last minute flight planning that I had
yet still to do. Andrew had better maps pinned on his walls than I had printed
out on my computer, so I copied details down off them both, before leaving for
the terminal so not to outstay my welcome. When the terminal closed I walked
out to the Big Tesco’s for dinner, chicken Tika pies and strawberries and
cream. Lovely! That’s treating myself. Tent back up in the field and sleep,
which I am always short of.
Thought for the day: Lots more today,
rich American’s with supposed Scottish heritance filling the terminal, who all
knew everyone, talking stock levels in the departure terminal, being one more
thought. But I’m trying to keep this short.
Day 7. 28th June 2014 . Wick to Vagar. 373
miles 3:18hrs
Day score 10.
Ok, paid fees and filed flight plans
with Andy. I pushed the plane around the corner of the hangar out the wind to
prepare. It was still quite a head wind up to the Shetlands but then as I
turned out to the Faroes it might even become a tail wind. On with insulation
layers under my apparently useless dry immersion suit, call it what you will.
Caking my pants now actually. Supposed to be fun but this certainly isn’t. A
bit of a squeeze in the immersion suit as well.
I taxied out after a Cessna Citation jet,
also heading for America . Once the runway was cleared I entered it and took off. There
was John O’Groats and Duncansby Lighthouse as I left the mainland. I wanted to
go out via the Shetland to get a feel for the flying over water bit and in case
of more engine troubles, At the Shetland
Isles, that was it. I had to turn out for Vagar, the island in the group of Faroe
Isles with the airport on it. My 5,000ft cruise height was a pain as that was
where all the cloud was. But a helicopter was above the thin layer of cloud and
coming the other way. After the Shetland controller, who had us both on his
radar, told the helicopter he had passed behind me now, he descended and I
climbed. When I poked out the top of the cotton wool cloud, shriek, my wings
were covered in ice. I learnt all about ice formation in my commercial pilot
training and it can be bad news, but I’ve never seen any before and never
wanted or expected to see it on Itzy. The kit plane didn’t seem to mind a bit
though and it soon melted.
I was handed over to Reykjavik control some 100 miles from the Shetlands. The radio was still fine
and clear and the transponder was still working in range to. This was good as
they had only been installed last week and I had hardly tested them. Brill. I
didn’t feel alone. The Shetland radio guy had been calling me every 15 mins for
a progress report. Above the cloud was peaceful and tranquil, only occasionally
did I look down through it and see the white horses of the cold foreboding North Atlantic . Amazingly
soon it was time to drop down below the thin layers of cloud into an amazing
scene of black rock of the Faroe Isles jumping thousands of feet out of the sea.
I had to watch it as these Faroe Isle Mountains went back up into the wispy broken cloud I’d just come down
through… There’s the runway, right where I had expected and the GPS had told me. I
was cleared to land, flew up the fjord and dropped it on the tarmac. I taxied
in and jumped out, finding it difficult to believe, as everyone else did who
came to se me arrive that, I’m on Vagar…
Customs and immigration was a
breeze. The airport has a new terminal
next to the old, only been open one week and everyone will still getting used
to it. The hotel was full, high season, but one of the young security guards
called Rooney, said I could stay in a flat his Gran owned and rented out, much
cheaper than the hotel as well. Everyone speaks good English and Rooney drove
me to his Gran’s flat, over looking the sea and fjord in the town of Sorvagur underneath the
end of the extended runway. Left to explore this 150 year old wooden and tin
shack of a house it was an extreme mix of old and new. Gosh the electrics were
old. This was probably a fisherman’s house. It was lovely though. A took a well
deserved shower and more computing. The TV internet I couldn’t get to work.
There were some very interesting DVD ’s in the draw,
mostly Danish but just for some back ground noise, Indiana Jones and the
Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, saved the day, before sleep…
Thought for the day: I’m on Vagar. I’ve
certainly left and that flight went well over the water. Wow… I’m excited I’m
now properly underway.
Day 8, 29th June 2014 . Vagar.
Day score 4
It’s blowing a howling gale and there is
a lot of rain between here and Iceland . No worries, I walked back up to the airport. I met Malik, a
cool guy in the control tower, to discuss plans. He had two friends visiting
from Denmark yet he was from Greenland … I could and did learn a lot… I asked and did get Itzy
refuelled with reasonably priced fuel and left Itzy to go sit it out in the new
departure terminal. I sat on the computer all day trying to catch up with
photo’s to send to people still and sort out my full of junk and slow laptop,
I stayed there till it about 4pm , watching a lot of blonde haired people arrive, check in and
depart on their flights or arrive and depart on the coach to Torshaun the
capital town. At 5 o’clock I thought, I better get on this bus too, like all the other passengers,
and head for the capital, because if I left tomorrow I would see nothing of the
Faroe Isles. It depended how the time table worked, but yes, I would have two
hours in town before the last coach came back to the airport for the night.
This might be my only chance of different scenery also, and I needed some. The
new terminal is nice but nothing to compare with what is outside.
The coach took an hour, through
beautiful hanging ‘glacier carved’ valleys and deep long tunnels dug under the
seas between the islands. Two hours was enough to run round to see the old
wooden built town houses with turf roofs and check out the harbour and a Greek
run pizza shop. The Greek owner said his shop was a success but he might have
to close because there were drunken fights every night from the locals??? And
the people were driving him mad having to listen to all their stress and
issues? Too proud to talk to fellow Faroese, but they would spill the beans to
a foreign shop owner… Back on the coach back through more amazing scenery and
deep long tunnels the mainland and Vagar with the airport on it. I watched more
passengers check in and disappear on the fleet of Airbus 319s. Blimey it was 10 o’clock . I walked back down to Sorvagur, takes about 5 mins. I dropped
off my bag in my wood and metal tin shack of a flat and perused the local port
and harbour. Some guy was mowing his grass? It was 11.30??? Back at the flat
there was a DVD of Asterix the Gaul , one of my schoolboy comic book heroes. It was in Danish,
Dutch, Norwegian, Finish or Icelandic only though. So after 10 mins it was
Indian Jones again.
Thought for the day: Everything is quite
tidy and pure hear, even the people, but they cant finish anything. Every
building, hut lawn, drive or road, isn’t quite finished
Day 9. 30th July 2014 . Vagar.
Day score 5.
It’s foggy and just awful. You can’t see
far out to sea up the fjord. The check in lounge is calling though and also the
control tower for a break or change of scenery. I met Fleming also in the
control tower. Malik explained that he was on a one year contract from Denmark . I learnt a lot about their procedures and about the culture
from these guys also today.
Not wanting to outstay my time there I
went back to the check in terminal and my chair, the only one near to a power
point to plug in this laptop and the envoy of all other mobile or tablet users
running around wondering where they could plug in. I eventually broke the ice to another backpacker
who sat down next to me. I never asked her name yet we spoke for hours about
lots of things. She had just come off the ship the Sea Shepherd or something
like that. It was similar to Greenpeace’s Rainbow Warier, yet far more extreme
in its confrontations. It patrolled the Island scaring off
the pods of Long Find Pilot Whales that the locals would surround in a number
of small boats and then drive up a fjord until the whales ran themselves
aground right at the end. Then the locals would wade in and slaughter them by
cutting their throats, turning the sea blood red. This hunt called the
Grindadrap was a tradition that had been going on for hundreds of years and was
vital to the survival of locals of old and also useful for the local economy.
I’d heard the locals mention this ship and their crew were not made welcome
anywhere. She was an Aussie girl and we talked about global ecological issues
and the meaning of life. She told me that she thought what I was doing was
dangerous, but she was the one hiding all her Sea Shepherd clothing in fear of
being beaten up by the locals. Anyway her plane back to Denmark , where she was living with friends, was eventually called for
loading. Talking to her was the highlight of the day really, only just beating
Indian Jones.
Thought of the day: However hard I try
and however long I sleep, I can’t finish all the emails and sorting out things
I didn’t do before I left home and I am fatigued beyond belief.
Day10. 1st July 2014 . Vagar again. Day score 3.
Fog, rain wind… In any order. Back at
the airport Rooney was on duty. He got me through security and drove me over to
the control tower. I gave him another Kr500 or £50 for staying in the flat. It
all works quite easily, you just divide everything by 10 or knock a digit off
to turn things into pounds. We joked about when I would leave. The weather is
due to improve but not enough today.
Checking in lounge, shop, flat, laptop,
Indian Jones, you know the score, so do all the security staff and check in
girls. I’m part of the scenery at the new airport now. Why not, I’ve been here
longer than some of the new employees…
Thought of the day: There is a need to
move on!!!
Day 11. 2nd July 2014 . Vagar Again Again. Day
score 7.
Woke at 6am . The fjord was full of cloud. Went back to sleep. At least it
was dry and brighter so I headed back to the airport. There were five airliners
parked up. Apparently they had all just arrived as the wind was too strong
earlier on. They recorded a 65 knot gust of wind first thing this morning.
That’s enough to blow most light aircraft away if not tied down, including mine
and it wasn’t! Yet Itzy had sat there through it all ok. Small wings and full
of fuel saved the day. I decided to move him though as the blast from the
nearest Regional 146 Airliner, as it taxied back out, could blow him away, tied
down or not!
Back in the control tower Malik was on
Duty dealing with the four departing jets. Because of the delays earlier they
were now all rescheduled and all now going to Copenhagen and they left, about five minutes apart. They could have all
gone together and had a race…
So then more diary, more photos, more
emails… No food… I stayed in the tower with Fleming, who had took over from
Malik, watching Belgium eventually put out the USA in the football world cup,
till about 9pm. Just still sorting flight plans, looking at weather, writing
emails, trying to get this blog or diary up to date. I learnt a lot more from
Fleming. He pointed out the old control tower up on the hill that the Brits
made. They made the original runway here actually as well and based 5,000
troops on the island to protect the Faroe’s against German invasion during the
2nd world war.
Rooney gave me a lift back down to the
flat, I sort of promised him I would leave tomorrow. While writing this though,
and watching Indian Jones, the wind in the fjord has changed and grew. So much
so, it’s started roaring outside. Itzy is still exposed where I left him out on
the field. I’ve decided I have to go back to the airport now at midnight , to pull him into the shade of a mound of grass just by the old
terminal, where he survived last night. I’m going now.
It was still light enough to see and the
last delayed plane arrived as I did. It was an easy climb back up the hill to
the airfield, well I got blown up the hill really. Anyway, the airport was
still buzzing. I got in past security and walked with Itzy through the control
tower and operations office car park as it was more sheltered that way, back to
where I parked him last night. It was blowing a steady 30kts and gusting much
more I would say, but back in by the shelter of the buildings, Itzy would be
fine.
I had to wait an hour for it to stop
sheeting it down before coming back. I’m now back in the flat again, feeling
blown away. As I watch the end of Indian Jones the wind is continually roaring
at what must be some 40knots, Its getter lighter again at 3am and I can see down
along the fjord the driving rain coming in. I doubt I’m going anywhere again
tomorrow, I mean today…
Thought for the
day: It was definitely the right
decision to go back up there. I can try to sleep a little easier.
Day 12, 3rd July 2014 . Vagar. Again again again again! Day score 3.
I moved out the flat, shame really, went
to the shop, walked the hill and sat in my seat in the check in lounge next to
the power point. I was studying the weather closely using every means possible.
Satellite, pressure charts, rainfall count, predictive forecasts. I might be
able to go in a small window around 4 o’clock today.
Flemming came through with tickets, he was flying in the cockpit to Stockholm
and back, to see their approach procedures from the pilots point of view to
help them when he was controlling them in the control tower. Everyone is flying except me. Two nice people
sat down next to me and we chatted for a few hours. Martin and Norma from North Wales . I had a great
time chatting to them, swapping exploits and thoughts of the Faroe Isles and
the lovely weather they had had??? Apparently on the north isles some 40 miles
away, they had been baking in it? They said they had parked a hire car in the
carpark, the company said to just leave the keys in it. They joked if I would
want to borrow it or sleep in it tonight.
When they went to catch their plane I
went over to the control tower to file a flight plan and pay the landing and
parking fees. Filling the flight plan was like a kiss of doom as even though
the route to Iceland looked clear and there were blue skies above the airport, low
cloud appeared and laid in the fjord, which I could not fly through. This
continued till it was too late in the day so I cancelled the flight plan, at
which point the cloud cleared, as if on command. I took chance to look round
the old control tower and then headed back to the check in desk. The airport
would stay open very late, which was handy, as the Linfield football team from Ireland were flying out in their charter plane at Midnight . They came they were loud and typically footballish and left.
The airport terminal was closing so I
headed back down to my village of Sorvagur and sat under the porch of the town barn hall, looking over the
football field to keep out of the rain. It’s now one o’clock and the kids are still all out playing. It is still light
though, so why not. Town is pretty dead with only the occasional car roaring
through, it’s been like that all week really. Chucking it down again now. This
is simply not funny anymore… I’m almost up to date with the diary, except the
batteries about to quit on my laptop.
I walked back
up to the airfield, kipped on a table outside the porch of the old terminal
building.
Thought for the
day: wishing I was warm and dry in a hire car…
Day 13, 4th July 2014 . Vagar to Egilsstadir Iceland .
312 miles 3:32hrs
Day score 10.
I ran back down
to Sorvagur to the local shop, got some biscuits and drink for the day and ran
back up to get warm. The airport opened at 8am and I walked over to Itzy to start preparing. I put my
immersion suit on but as the cloud was still poor, I had a kip for an hour.
Malik was in the control tower and with the weather clearing in an hour or so
the satellite images said, we filed the flight plan again. He said he would put
the information on the departure boards as he did for every other flight. I
shook hands with Malik and went over to take a selfy of me and my plane at the
top of the departures board.
Jumping in
Itzy, the weather did clear and I taxied out. Take off was on 30 and I headed
out over Sorvagur. Stunning stunning scenery. I took video and photos and flew
as close as I dare due to multitudes of bird life on all the jolting cliffs I
climbed past. Ok time to set out over the Atlantic .
Only 2:20 hours of water and it all went quite easy for once. I said
goodbye to Malik in Vagar 60 miles out and on to Reykjavik control. They could not hear me but I relayed some position
reports twice, via airliners way above when ever I could hear them clearly. I
spoke to Delta 219, who ever they were and later Speedbird 287, which is a
British Airways jet. I climbed above some thin cloud a couple of times and sat
there just watching the cold engine temps and watching the ‘distance to go’
winding down on the GPS screen... At one point there was nothing on the GPS moving map
except the words North Atlantic . About 100 miles out, Reykjavik control relayed a message to me
via Airline 456 to change frequency and be handed over to Keflavic control on
119.7, but what was the point. All the airliners above were on Reykjavik , next to no one was on 119.7 and I couldn’t relay any messages
anymore. 60 miles out I called Egilsstadir directly, they could not hear me as
there was a mountain range between us and the radio is best when in line of
site. The signal can’t travel through rock. Also I had to descend now as there
was cloud ahead. Egilsstadir did call me through relaying to yet another
aircraft and I replied with my position report and they gave me their weather.
Few at 800, scattered at 1,500 broken at 2,400. Not good but ok.
Bugger, really
quite a lot of cloud ahead, I went into it. Only thin I hoped but down at 800ft
above see level I was not happy… I decided to climb again and turned around to
go back out to sea where there was no cloud. Back in sight of the sea again I
descended down until I could see under the cloud and turned back in towards
land, but now cloud base was under 500ft. Being this low I had lost all radio
contact with Egilsstadir and the relaying aircraft, again possibly because of
the mountain ranges in-between us. Down at 300ft I entered a fjord leading to
Egilsstadir airport but the hills were 3,000ft plus all around and the cloud
was solid at 300ft. I remembered to fly up one side of the fjord not straight
up the middle as most people do. If you are in the middle if you want to turn
around suddenly, say at the end, you have only either half the valley left or
right to turn in. If you are to one side you have only one way to turn but you
have twice the width to turn around in than if you were in the middle. People
have crashed flying in the middle with no enough room to turn around if they
have to.
Back out to sea
there was only one option available, that was to go 40 miles north, around the
mountains and follow the river up a wide valley floor to the airport. Sea fog
now rolled in and I was down to 100ft. This weather was not forecast and not
fun or fair… It took what seemed an eternity to keep flying around fjord after
fjord, followed by vertical rock faces into the sea before I found the correct
valley. As soon as I entered it I could hear Egilsstadir calling immediately. I
replied that “I’m still here and ok! I’m heading up the river towards you about
40 miles north.” You could here the relief in his voice and also the relaying
Air Iceland plane which had manoeuvred to my location to try and remake
contact. The captain of that plane congratulated me and I thanked him for his
assistance. I’m not sure what I had done well, but he said “You have done
well!” The controller asked me what was the colour of the river I was
following? What a strange question I thought but then maybe he had good reason
to ask… “Brown” I replied. “Good!” the reply… Apparently there are two rivers
in the valley, one being glacial blue and it leads into the glacier! The brown
one below me was correct and the runway was clear and only 24 miles away. The controller asked if I had seen a hydro
electric plant on the river yet? It was just coming out of the gloom and it
whizzed past under my left wing. I called to say yes.
I ran 12
minutes at 200ft above the beautiful river before the runway lights came out
the gloom. I did two left turns and landed on their 04 runway in 4000 meter
visibility and driving rain.
As I taxied in,
the emergency services were all driving away? Apparently, since I was some 30
minutes overdue on my flight plan time, since my diversion, they had all been
scrambled… So embarrassing.
The rain abated
as I climbed out. I pulled Itzy to a safe corner of the pad, nearer the
protection from the wind of the hangars. First a medical examiner called Thora
I think, came to check on me and took me inside and sat me down to catch my
breath. I was ok…
Thora handed me
over to two police officers and I spent some time with them filing a report
with police captain Davith and his deputy officer. English was good here. We
went to have a discussion in the control tower so they could explain their side
of events and clear a few technical terms up in Icelandic. Annoyingly, by this
time the weather had cleared through and was quite decent again now… The
controller said that since there was no one hurt or no damage to the plane, no
report need be filed with him to their CAA authority. I
was sure he was not right, but I was not going to argue and with all that
completed, the police said they would drive me now to the medical centre. It
was procedure? I jumped in the back of their police car and off we went.
In the medical
centre I met up again with Thora and she joked about cutting off my immersion
suit, which was normal for these events. Admittedly I had to worn her of the
fact that I had been in this air tight suit for about 6 hours now, before
unzipping the shoulder seal and extracting myself from it. She took my blood
pressure and heart rate and eye tests and my vital signs were all normal. With
this I was free to go. I have to pay for this and they are not open again till
Monday, so here I stay till Monday… Dam.
Davith then
drove me to a good reasonable guest house as all the hotels were full. They
asked me if I had food, no being the answer, they stopped off at the
supermarket. In the supermarket I met a camera man again who had been hanging
around the airport. I apologised to him for being a bit rude earlier. He said
he wanted to discuss with me the plane, I told him I could do it tomorrow, but
he said it was too late really and that his report had already gone to the news
station. Get out of here!!!
I came out with
bread and ham for me and a couple of bottles of coke for the police. They then
drove me about 2kms over the river to the guest house as they said they were
not busy... With the proprietor, he mentioned that he knew who I was as he had
just seen me on the news… No way!!! I thanked the police, they were cool. I
felt like giving them a hug for being so kind, but I didn’t and I settled in my
room. A shower and more diary and Brazil verses Colombia .
Thought for the
day: I’m not really telling the full truth of quiet what happened today. I’m
probably going to remove it from my mind and delete it over the next few hours.
All my tedds go in my backpack so I can insist I take it with me if I get
dragged out of the sea so I don’t loose them. I had it with me in the room and
as I took each one out the bag and laid them on the spare bed, they were all
looking at me and pretty pissed off! They are the only other things except the
plane and the data logger that know quite how stupid things got today. What did
Andrew of Farnorth Aviation say… Something about the weather….?
Day 14, 5th July 2014 . Egilsstadir.
Day Score 6.
Left my room
and went to find out how much it cost. The proprietor was a pilot also and had
worked in the Egilsstadir control tower for some 20 years. I explained all
about yesterday. When he heard that I had built the plane he mentioned wanting
to build a Zenair aircraft. I know them well and we talked for what must have
been an hour. The room was 100 Euros equivalent, He said no one could work out
the Icelandic Krona rate. I couldn’t. I explained the 100 night rule about
staying in hotels and said I would camp tonight. He knocked 35% of the bill and
drove me down to the airport as it was throwing it down again.
I made friends with everyone there and
one of the girls had a birthday and I was offered cake. I explained what
happened yesterday and they let me back out to see Itzy. I gave him a big hug
and then set about drying everything out as the sun was starting to shine. I
checked over the plane. Itzy seemed alright, so I set back off into town to set
up the tent in the camp site. Walking back to town I came across two German
lads hitch hiking around Iceland as they said it was easy. They sort of insisted I told them how
I was touring the Island since I held back on the information and they didn’t believe me
until I showed them some pictures on my phone. I wished them good luck and I
moved on to get some cash from the bank. I had no idea how much I was getting
so just went for the middle figure as that’s what I used to get back home. With
money I paid for the camp site and set up camp. I haven’t backpacked or hung
out with travellers for years, I remembered how much fun it can be. I took a
lovely walk to the top of the foothills behind the camp site which reconnected
me to or with the enjoyment and the journey. Gosh Iceland is beautiful and this apparently is the boring bit, such a
shame the flights are so difficult. Anyway, I needed much more rest. So returned
to sit in the sun with the other campers reading my lonely planet Iceland guide at 11pm . As I left to go to bed, the two German kids walked back
in with their heads down, so hitch hiking is not that easy then here after all!
But really what were they expecting, trying at this time of night.
Thought of the
day: Its midnight and someone’s birthday party, in the nearby town, has just
kicked off with ‘Happy Birthday’, being sung over a loud speaker system. I
didn’t understand the words but I understood the tune. Seems like since its
still light, the locals never sleep. I suppose it makes a change from all the
long winter dark nights. Oh gosh no… it’s a karaoke party…
Day 15, 6th July 2014 Eating snow…
Day score 8.
Packed up the
tent and walked back via the Information shop to the airport as I needed to buy
any sort of decent map.
I’ve now
converted Krona to pounds easily, you just divide by 200. Anyway I worked out I
have just bought a £12 map!!! They said things were expensive here, but really!
Sitting in the
arrivals lounge at the airport where there is power and web, a couple of guys
are waiting for a plane. The one is a local tour guide the other a rich
American going on about how expensive his fishing trip for him and his mates
will cost and about percentage profit of their fishing trip and Icelandic
business profiles. Why can these people never switch off and stop banging on
about business business business… The plane arrived carrying the American’s
friends they were waiting for and he told the guide that the plane was a
Ferrari. I thought he meant it looked like a Ferrari, but no, he told the tour
guide “Yeah, it is a Ferrari, one of the most efficient aircraft ever made,
costs a fortune!” I had to put him right and called out “It’s not a Ferrari,
it’s a Piaggio P180 Avanti! It is Italian, expensive, stylish but unreliable
and over rated, so like a Ferrari, but nothing to do with Ferrari.” He replied
that “Yeah ok then, well the engines are built by Ferrari.” I told him “I can’t
see how as the Piaggio is powered by two Canadian Pratt and Witney PT6’s?” It
shut him up… I can’t stand people who bluff out duff info trying to impress…
I spent all afternoon either sitting
here looking at weather or sorting out emails, while watching Foker 50 planes of
Air Iceland arrive with their even blonder passengers and depart back to
Reykjavik with new. I also spent some time out with the plane trying to dry my
clothes that got wet. I left the front luggage bay open the day I arrived when
leaving in a hurry with the police.
I went to pay for camping again only to
find no bank card? Dam… Oh heck, I left it in the machine at the information
desk when I bought the map… I ran back and peered through the window. There it
was, behind the paying desk. I’d get it tomorrow.
There is a big waterfall in view high up
in the hills and I asked the camp lady if I could get up there, she said there
was a path off the road. So at 10pm at night, I put on my
running shoes and set off to run up or climb a mountain?
Instead of following the road I thought
I would just follow the river up to the waterfall. Gosh Iceland is beautiful. I played with birds and the wildlife, who all
seemed inquisitive and annoyed by my presence in their environment. I climbed
to the stunning waterfall and then higher to the snow line where the snow melt
was feeding the flooding river. It was a shame for the little bits of cloud or
I could have seen my midnight sun, as it was still above the horizon after midnight , but I couldn’t see it, just pink cloud... I’m not going to say
I ran all the way to the snow line, but I did run all the way back to town.
Very satisfied with the day I slept well with my tired legs.
Thought for the day: It is a beautiful country…
Day 16. 07/July/2014 Stupid Bankers!
Day score 6.
First thing today was to get my bank
card back. The cashier handed it over with no worries, but said they had called
the bank to ask them to call me, so I would come back and pick it up. Oh no!
This would mean that the bank would have cancelled the card. I went to the
supermarket to try it and get some food. Indeed it did not work anymore, but my
credit cards still did. I phoned the bank and had a futile discussion with the
guy there to politely un-cancel the card but he said it could not be done and
another had been sent out to my home address. What flippin use was it there…
I went to the medical centre to pay for
my examination. All a bit excessive I thought, considering there was nothing
ever wrong with me and it cost 10,000KR £50. What ever.
I walked back to the airport for more
looking at weather and more drying of clothes. I went up to the control tower
to pay landing fees and parking and discuss how not to embarrass myself on the
next flight to Akureyri. I got to know the ground crew well and they were as
kind and generous as all people have been to me so far. I dried more clothes
and checked the engine over again and sorted out the oil.
The weather is too windy here and not so
good at Akureyri, but it looks ok for tomorrow.
So back to the camp site for more rest.
Thought for the day: That’s how I feel
at the moment. I’m so fatigued from the lack of sleep for the last few months…
Day 17. 08/July/2014 Moving on. Egilsstadir to Akureyri. 227 miles
1:59 hrs
Day score 10.
Got up and dried the tent well in the
sun. Ate and walked out to the Icelandic Red Cross building to take a picture
with one of my bears who is from the American Red Cross, before heading for the
airport. In the control tower I said hello to the new controller. I might fly
today but it was already very windy. He said it would calm down tonight so I
could fly later. Akureyri was open till 11pm . “People fly that late? I asked, “Oh yeah, sometimes later!” he
replied. Maybe I would fly tonight? The weather looked better tomorrow, but the
amount of times I’ve thought, I’ll leave it for tomorrow only to find the
weather goes wrong, I think I have to take any chance to progress. I’d leave it
till quite late though still.
Similar day as yesterday with chatting
and drying of clothes, which went well with the sun and breeze. Just as I
concluded it was too late and too windy, it all started quieting down. I
returned to the tower and he was positive and said there would be no problems
on route, as long as I arrived sometime before 11pm .
I took off at 7.34pm and headed straight up the valley towards Snaefell, an
extinct-ish volcano called Snowy Mountain as it always had snow on top all year round. It was some 50
miles away and 6,014ft. Completely the wrong way I needed to eventually go, but
not to be missed. Behind it and extending out but covered in cloud was VatnaJokull , Iceland ’s largest and highest mountain range with ‘Jokull’ - glaciers
descending off it in all directions. You could see the massive man made dam
that diverted a whole outflow river into a lake. This water then got directed
70kms down a pipe to a hydro electric station, but this station was just to
power an Aluminium smelting factory and this was all highly controversial.
I turned around Snaefell and headed
between Askja, a huge water filled crater to the left and Herdubeid, ‘Queen of
the mountains’ a 5,500ft flat table toped volcano with vertical sides to the
right. Askja was covered white with fresh snow, unheard of this time of year,
so the lake was still frozen and all covered over. Boo, as it’s supposed to be
a beautiful blue surrounded by black rock. Herdubeid is a really funny shape,
created when the magna lake inside cooled and solidified inside the cinder cone
of larva pumas or rubble. This softer pumas and rubble had eroded away, leaving
the solidified core just sitting there, looking very out of place, with cloud
sitting just on top.
I then turned north again toward a jewel
in Iceland , Myvatna. Here there are clear fresh water lakes with hot
thermal spring and along way for tourists to ruin it. Little volcanic gas
explosions had turned the landscape into what looked like a crater strewn
battle field. There was an airfield there and I had been told I must go. But
not tonight.
I flew out to sea with the wind behind
me, around to the left and the headland filled with glacial valleys. I fancied
this approach so I could head straight in to Akureyri instead of the more
difficult approach through the valleys. The wind was quite strong and the
turbulence would have been great in the valleys, as it was now bouncing Itzy
around while coming off the headland and flowing out to sea. But the air calmed
as I entered the Eyjafjorour fjord and I called Akureyri and he cleared me to
land straight in to runway 19 while ten miles out. Simply beautiful and easy.
Taxing in up to the flight school, I shut down and jumped out.
I was welcomed by Christion, who was the
manager of Myflug Air. He advised me to tie down Itzy as the wind can roar at
night. I used their tethers. He invited me into their new hangar, but I said I
needed half an hour with the plane and would catch up with him later. I was
also greeted by a gent and driver, I did not know who he was yet, but it would
become very clear later, his name was Arngrimur Johannsson. He was very polite
and asked if I needed anything, I shook my head and off he drove.
In the under floor heating hanger of
Myflug, Christion gave me the tour of their facilities. The hangar had a huge
door that lifted up instead of sliding on rails. Any rails would freeze in winter
as they annoyingly do in the UK . But as Myflug flew medical evacuation flights, they could not
afford the time to smash the ice and the under floor heating continued on
outside, so they had an area free of ice all year round...? But this was not a
problem as they had abundant and virtually free hot water from the thermal hot
spots. They also owned and operated many various aircraft as part of a private
collection, flying school and the also operated and maintained a couple of
Beechcraft King Air’s for the medical evacuation flights. We chatted at length
and he showed me some of the rebuild and build projects in the other hangars.
More of a recent major event than my
arrival at Egilsstadir was the story of a crash landing that had happened only
last week and to one of the most experienced Atlantic Airlines captains. He was
flying one evening up near a glacier and entered cloud, or a white out. He had
no artificial horizon so just held the stick back in a modified Piper Super
Cub. It had vortex generators all over it to lesson the stall speed and massive
tundra tyres to allow it to land on virtually any surface. Well he hit the
glacier quite gently and came to a stop. It took him hours to climb down the
mountain and raise the alarm. But the next day they flew up a load of spares
and landed next to the aircraft in another Super Cub. They changed some
undercarriage parts and a wing strut and flew the damaged aircraft back down
off the mountain and here it stood. He was lucky… Anyway, then with time
getting on, Christion offered me an extensive tour of the town and a lift to
the camp site. Thanks Christion, it’s not spelt like that but I don’t believe I
have the right keys on here and it’s not Christian.
I pitched my tent and went for a walk
down the high street again. There was a noisy bar, one I would never frequent,
with a nude female figure painted on the ceiling visible from the window. This
seemed the centre and busy part of town. Other than that it was quiet and I was
too late for the supermarkets. Back at the camp site I met back up with the
German lads who had hitched here. They told me the food in the corner had been
donated as the person who it belonged to was leaving tomorrow. Brill, I took
some, but not too much to be greedy and retired for the night.
Thought for the day: The flight actually
went well, couldn’t have been worse than the last, really. Lets move on…
Day
18. 09/July/2014
Day score 7.
I left the tent and walked back to the
airfield. I walked through the worlds most northern Botanical Gardens and down
through the old town and streets. The high way to the airport and airport were
on reclaimed ground out in the fjord.
Itzy seemed fine, sitting their grabbing
the attention of any passer by. The reason for coming to Akureyri is the famous
Flugsafn Islands Aviation Museum . It wasn’t open till 11, so I sat with a couple from the
midlands, where I’m from, and chatted away about Iceland until it opened. They were quite independent travellers
‘per-se’, my favourite, and they had
been here in the winter and knew they wanted to return to Iceland in the summer. The museum opened and we entered in.
Relatively petite, about the size of a
sports hall, but very interesting and well laid out. Soon though I realised
that this fantastic collection of Icelandic aircraft of note and the displays
of the early history of aviation in Iceland all lead to one airline and one person. Atlantic Airways could
be from anywhere, but indeed it was Icelandic and belonged to Arngrimur
Johannsson, the gent who had driven to say hello to me last night.
Now there were of course the pioneers of
Icelandic aviation, all displayed very well in a time board walk. One amazing
story was, an American DC4 crashed on top of a glacier. No one was killed but
the plane was written off. The Americans landed a new DC3 next to it on skies
to remove any salvage. But they forgot to keep the DC3 moving occasionally and
the skies froze to the ice. A storm blew up and the DC3 was buried. They tried
but failed to dig it out next summer and in the end sold it cheap to the
foundling Icelandic Airways. Two heroic Icelandic pilots went up and dug it out
and dragged it off the glacier, got it going, flew it for a couple of years and
when they sold it, the vast profit was used to start off and bolster their
airline.
But Arngrimur had founded Icelandic’s
Air Atlanta , and Atlantic Airways and it grew into a major global aviation
player. When he stepped down he was rather rich and now does his utmost to
support the museum and aviation in Iceland . And apparently he is a very nice bloke too. He borrowed one of
his Boeing 747 and filled it full of around 400 of his friends and aviation
fans from Iceland and flew them all to Oshkosh , where I’m
heading. He goes every year some how and said he hoped to see me there last
night… Basically half of the planes in the museum belonged to him.
I met the museum manager Gestur Jonasson
and chatted about my Classic flight Museum connections at Coventry and how and
what we operated. I had my laptop with me so fired up the photo albums.
A great time, brill people and I got a
sticker too.
Back at Myflug, I went up the spiral
stairs and met the pilots of the air ambulance’s in their briefing rooms and
offices of the flying school. There was Christion Junior and Haukur, the pilots
on duty. They had, well everyone had heard of my arrival issues at Egilsstadir.
Haukur spoke very good English… He explained this was because he started his
flying career training in Phoenix Arizona America for 4 or 5 years if I remember well, which of course I don’t.
He invited me to stay in his and his college’s pilot’s home from home flat down
town. I’m one for not putting anyone out, but this was never going to be a
problem. They had to fly a patient to Reykjavik but I would do more planning and we would meet up later.
I didn’t get much done, talking to all
the pilots and soon the hours past, the King Air returned and everyone agreed
to meet later in town. Haukur drove me to pick up my tent in his POS (Pile of
Shoot) car that he bombed round in while in Akureyri, his home and fiancé and 3
year old daughter living in Reykjavik . We arrived at the pilot’s flat, I put on my best clothes and
we headed for town. We wound up in the noisy bar I walked past last night. They
had cider, the first drink since I left home and good to. The others didn’t
materialise, so after one drink we returned to the flat after a long day.
Thought for the Day: Museum was fun…
Good people here as expected of Iceland .
Day
19. 10/July/2014 All aboard the POS to
Godafoss. Day
score 8.
Haukur or Hawk as he preferred, only
because I couldn’t pronounce Haukur or any name or place yet in Iceland . I’ve only just mastered Thank you, Takk Fyri. Hawk had to be
at work at 9am . We both drove in to the airport. He was going to be away for
about 6 hours, so he invited me to take the POS to Godafoss
waterfall, or I was never going to get to see any local sites from the ground.
I gladly excepted and promised to fill it with fuel in return.
So an hour or so later I was driving in
a Daewoo Lanox with furry dice over the mountain passes and through the fjords
to Gods waterfall. Indeed a beautiful drive and the POS went well.
Godafoss could be seen (as most
waterfalls) a long way away from the rising spray and the vast numbers of
tourist coaches. I parked up and joined the crowds to crawl all over this water
fall. The roaring river was created from a collection of snow melt and rain and
still running strong in mid July. There were two falls really, the top a horse
shoe shape and the lower just a big 10 meter drop. Brill to be a tourist I
thought. Soon it was time to drive back, better not be late back with the car.
I wasn’t and with all the pilots back,
it was agreed that we would go out and eat. Hawk took me to an old barn that
they remembered being a pub or bar, it was now a posh’ish restaurant. Spare
ribs seemed the order of the day. A super night sitting amongst pilots. I sat
next to (xxxxxxx) who flew Twin Otters to a tourist Island 40 miles north and also he had taken it on survey flights to Greenland , where I’m
hopefully going next. So it was helpful and fascinating to sit next to him and
learn about all that can be expected.
With food eaten, it was off to another
favourite past time in Iceland I have noticed. They love their ice-cream and massive parlours
seem packed all the time… Strange but true and delicious…
A selfie was taken with all at the end
of the night and I thanked them a lot. They could see I was going through a
ruff patch and this really helped.
Thought for the day: Top day. Nothing
need more be said.
Day 20. 11/July/2014 Braking the POS .
Day score 10.
The weather was naff and for days. I
told Hawk that I was going to take a coach to Reykjavik and try and get some
sight seeing in while the weather was not flyable and come back and hopefully
then fly to Reykjavik. He offered me the chance to borrow the POS because he had
gone and got his decent car because his fiancé and daughter were turning up and
he was going on holiday for a few days and didn’t need it. The problem was that
the back brakes were in a state and needed fixing. He had all the parts in the
back of the Daewoo, just hadn’t got them fitted by a garage yet. I offered to
fit them in exchange for borrowing the car. The deal was done. He would go to
work, set up tools and a space in the hangar, I would go and get the car from a
parking lot where it was kept when not needed and bring it to the Myflug
hangar. I thought it would only take an hour or so.
The king Air was on a medical evacuation
with Hawk and another pilot when I turned up. I got to work straight away. Man
I struggled, the drums were in hell of a state and didn’t want to come off.
Then I couldn’t get the new parts on or together. Something was wrong. I
thought it was just pads, Hawk had bought new slave cylinders just in case, but
they were not leaking so I wasn’t going to fit new ones. No but they were both
seized. The back brakes didn’t look warn, but this was because they were not
working. Hawk came and went again. Five hours to fix the brakes, bleed them and
fix a water leak and oil check.
Ok, now I was on the one and only
highway to Reykjavik . Single track road high way. I hate travelling through
beautiful country side in the dark, but it didn’t matter that it was 10pm now as it never gets dark. I stopped and gazed at awesome
fjords and rolling plains and volcano crater and cinder cones and lava fields a
plenty. Even went to check out a seal colony, no seals…
I arrived in Reykjavik at 1.15. The night life was in full swing and I perused town
and the sights. Icelandic guys and girls are quite healthy and well dressed.
But a personal thought was that this lot of city dwelling pissed up, fat,
poshly dressed party goers could have been from my home city of Birmingham , and that is nothing to be proud of. Not everyone was like that
of course, but it slightly tainted an almost perfect impression of Icelandic
people so far.
I drove out to the airport, it was
closed but the free web site still worked through the window to check progress
and weather. The weather did not look good still for days. Oh well, glad I’m
seeing something in the car and I went to put my head down after a long day in
the car.
Thought for the day: Top drive, fun fun
fun. Thanks Hawk…
Day
21. 12/July/2014 The Blue Lagoon soaking. Day score
10.
I drove out past Keflavik international
airport, Reykjavik airport had seemed small and quaint, built by the Brits about
the same time as they built Vagar. I recognised the construction style of the
hangars, being the same as most war time hangars in the UK . The Brits had a presence here to protect the islands against
the Germans and allow the ships supplying our war effort from America an easier passage across the Atlantic .
Now Keflavik was a cold war
American Airbase and it was flippin huge… I drove to a famous old light house
on the western tip of the peninsula (nice) and then along the coast which had
been deposited there by a huge lava field and we are talking huge!!! Took half
an hour to drive through with steam rising here and there. Arctic Turns nested
along the road in the tuft grass in their thousands. Very very impressed with
this rarely experienced site. I was enjoying this.
Next was the famous Blue Lagoon thermal
spars. An expensive tourist trap, but I did not care and had been told to go
all the same, everyone has to go there. I got my swimming trunks and towel
sorted and went in up the path. You could walk a periphery track if you so
desired and I did and the Blue Lagoon lived up to its name!!! Big time. It was
seriously blue…
I met an American lady called Urana, who
was looking for someone to take her photo as she had a T’shirt with a message
on it she wanted to show the back of to friends back home. I obliged. She had
just packed everything up and sold a lot in America and said she needed to get out of the American society and go
and live with decent humans for a while. Understandable. After seeing all
outside we paid the £40 to get in and I said I would see her later. All high
tech lockers with coded wrist fobs. Very clean and organised. Except absolute
chaos with all the different ethnicities and behaviours. Japanese people can be
quite weird some times. There was only one way in and out, the way everyone
came in and one way in and out to the lagoon, where all the steam was, but
still they seemed lost?
I came here especially and specifically
for another reason. I suffer from Psoriasis and the special minerals within the
water were or are supposed to cure or aid it… I can’t see how since no doctor
or medication in twenty years has yet cured mine, but I’m for ever optimistic
that the latest treatment might work. I walked down the steps and in, it was
hot and salty and about 1 meter deep, so the kids didn’t drown. There was an
expensive bar if you so desired and private massage parlours and all you needed
to do was wave your wrist fob at the machine. The facial mud was free though
and people covered themselves in white drying mud before washing it off. The
first time I have treated myself for ages. The American business men and women
were here in force as ever, they get everywhere and can not turn off,
discussing stocks and shares of blue water. Put a sock in it for once!!! There
were annoying British school Kids acting like spoilt brats a plenty. Did I
enjoy it? Well I stayed in for four hours if that helps. My skin did feel
soothed. We will see if helped later. Masses of my skin was falling off though,
the hard skin on my feet eventually capitulated. May be there was something in
the water dissolving things. The hot water waterfall was awesome. As I stood
underneath it, the hot water pounding like a heavy hacking massage on my
shoulders. I thought of all the hours of pain felt in my shoulders from endless
hours of leaning over while working on the plane. I deserve this in my mind.
Very therapeutic. I can’t get that flight out my head yet though and to think I
almost missed all this…
It was time to have some fun and I went
to get my video camera and Fredy Pig my travel companion of old. People were
walking around with cameras everywhere, so why not??? How many phones, Ipads
and cameras get dropped in the water I don’t know, but as long as I was extra
careful with mine… Fredy loved the spa and floating in the water and I made
loads of videos and selfies. Ok really time to get showered and go. Lots more
to see today.
Outside, by the Icelandic’s British
Olympic flame petal that they all were given to bring and take away to the
London 2012 Olympics, I met Urana again. Yesterday she had been too tired and
not well and misted her only opportunity to see Geyser, Gullfoss waterfall (the
biggest) and Thingvellir or Pingvellir because we don’t have the correct key on
this keyboard. Anyway Pingvellir was where a lot of the ancient gatherings were
made within the gap which is the separation of the American and European
tectonic plates. These tourist sites formed the ‘so called’ Golden Triangle of
sites to see. That’s what I was going to do so I invited her along. Rude not to
I thought and she could help me stay awake because it meant driving all through
the night to get this all seen and done. First she needed to go and eat though,
I’ve no interest in food really, but what took longer was my mistake on the map
reading. We eventually turned up at Geyser, a geyser site, at about midnight . We got talking to an Australian guy and his Danish partner.
They visited Iceland all the time and said that this time of night now, when
there was virtually no one here, was the best time to see Geyser, as during the
day the place was full of idiots. Whoosh! 80ft geyser firing off about 30 metes
away. Made me jump, they were used to it. Every 6 minutes or so apparently. The
biggest steaming water filled whole, called Geyser, the Geyser that all other
geysers were named after, didn’t go off anymore, not since the last local
eruptions some 40 years ago, but a little sized geyser called Strokkur, fired
off regularly. There was a lot of hot bubbling mud and water around too. All
Geysers are named after this Geyser, an Icelandic name apparently, I didn’t
know that. You could hear the water boiling and rumbling underneath the ground.
It shook the ground and the water rose and fell in the 8 meter wide pool with
what looked like a 1 meter whole in the centre. Then you would see the water
lift in the centre and whoosh!!! Anyway, about an hour here before moving on.
You can only wait and watch it go whoosh, so many times before thinking “Ok,
seen that!” I’d go back though given more time.
On to Gullfoss waterfall, quite a trek
but quite impressive. Big whooshy waterfall. The biggest in Iceland and very impressive actually, but by now it was 2.am and I was
quite blarzay about a big waterfall, ten minutes of watching water falling was
enough.
The tectonic plate place was deemed too
far so I headed the POS back towards Reykjavik . Back by 4am , I dropped off Urana who had
been pleasant company on this little adventure. She was residing at her home
stay place, seemingly you can offer your home for people to stay and go and
stay at people’s homes, and I returned to the airport to check emails, the
weather and then onto the carpark for sleep.
Thought for the day: Got a lot in today.
That’s living. But this isn’t helping with my long term fatigue issues.
Day 22. 13/July/2014 The Long and winding
road. Day
score 8.
This morning I needed to reply to a few
emails and sort stuff out, travelling and site seeing was great, but not really
helping progress. I needed to get the car back today as well. I sat in the
arrivals lounge at the airport unfortunately next to the kiddies play area as
that was where the only power point seemed to be. I stayed there too long
really before hitting the road and heading north.
The problem is quite a major one. I want
to go to Cape Dyer in Canada . I can’t go straight to the normal place of entry in to Canada
for my type of aircraft at Iqaluit or Frobisher Bay depending on which language
you speak because its just too far and I don’t have the range, but going to
Cape Dyer causes all sorts of problems as well with the lack of fuel, or
customs and the runway apparently is unserviceable, except I know the Bush
Pilots of Canada are using it.
The only way around this is to get my
long range tank I made for a competition in 2009 that sits in the co-pilots
seat sent out to give me the extra range needed. But then I have my mountain
bike sitting in the passenger seat right now. I have friends who have packaged
the tank ready to send out. I just need an address to send it out here to. I
also need my new bank card that has arrived at my parents sent out here as
well.
Anyway, just leaving the city I saw a
road sign to Pingvellir. This is where the old government buildings are and is
where the split in the Tectonic plates is most visible. It was what I wanted to
see last night and would have except I needed to take Urana to her home in Reykjavik . It wasn’t that far. I’ll go…
On top of the mountain range over
looking pingvalla Vatn or lake, I came across a viewing area where all the
visitors had made piles of balanced stones. Insanely high and intricate
considering. There were no more stones though and obviously some pilfering had
occurred, but I drove a mile or so down road to another lay-by, got my own
stones to return to build my little pile of balanced stones. This effigy
complete I headed down towards the lake. There are two fault lines actually, one
both sides of the valley. As the plates move apart, further north the magna
rose to the surface creating many vent hole volcanoes many thousands of feet
high which are then toped with snow and ice to form glaciers or Jokull’s, but
here the land subsided and a lake was formed. The tourist site was not
overwhelmed, I mean you hardly see another car on the roads. Spectacular. There
was a place where you could stand with one foot on each plate, truth be told,
there were many fractures, so who knew which plate you were standing on. A
river cascaded over the 30 meter 50 meter crack in the ground creating a lovely
waterfall. This insulated spot was perfect for gathering and indeed over
centuries of history, once a year a gathering of the tribes took place here. So
even though parliament is in Reykjavik , a lot of early history took place here and the local hall and
church of the early government period still existed.
I wanted to go back via an off the
highway road, but I had no idea how long it would take and not enough fuel as
it was a gravel track over the mountains. If I couldn’t make it and had to come
back I certainly would not have enough fuel. So I drove off the other way
closer to Geyser again to a petrol station. I fuelled up twice as I got
confused how much I had placed on the automated credit system in Krona, only
putting £5 in first. The garage acted as a local store as well and I bought
more food. There was a roar from some people gathered in the restaurant corner
watching a big screen, it was the World Football Cup final and the German’s had
just scored their extra time winning goal. I stayed to eat and watch their
celebrations. There was a German couple sitting next to me, everyone was
congratulating them and I did also with a ‘thumbs up’ as I left.
Back at the junction with the gravel
mountain road number:52 I set off, but by the snow gates, closing the road if
impassable, there was a sign. It warned of bad conditions, that the insurance
was invalid on hire cars on this road and of trolls that would crush your car
and eat you up. I’m sure I could make it, but it wasn’t my car. I f anything
were to happen, I would be a fool. Hawk had been very kind lending me his car
and I couldn’t be disrespectful of the offer. So I went back to the high way.
Across the lava gravel planes I came
across five cars all together, some in, some by the side of the road. This was
strange. One of the cars had hit a sheep, there were no fences and I had had to
dodge a few wondering sheep earlier. People had stopped to help. I stopped. The
sheep had dismantled the front of this car and the car had dismantled the sheep
as well, come to think of it. There was plenty of assistance and nothing I
could do, so I headed on.
I came across a volcanic region and
sinder cone. I love them, it’s fascinating. There was a road leading closer, it
soon turned to gravel and then to black pumas, as everything was around here.
The volcano, still five miles off, had probably lay dormant for centuries, but
it looked all so new as if it was formed yesterday. But back to the road.
On the way to Reykjavik I had took the Highway number 1 ‘tunnel’. It cut out a fjord,
but not wanting to take it again I turned down the old highway 1 road around
the fjord. It was 60 kilometers further, but I thought it worth while. The road
having been the main highway was good and deserted. I wish I was in a racing
car. Close to the end of the fjord you could take blind corners because you
could see the road on the other side of the sea and nothing had come down it
for a long time. At the end of the fjord I stopped. I’ll get a little soft
here, but I was caught by the beauty of the light, the calmness of the sea. You
could see the road for miles each side of the fjord and there was not traffic.
So remote, just a sheep or two and Arctic Turns bussing me, upset at my presence…
Back on the main occupied highway I
travelled back through Grabrocks. I had seen it on the way to Reykjavik , it was another much smaller cinder cone, but the lava field
that it had admitted had diverted the road, so this one could not have been too
old. And you could climb it… 1am , and I’m looking down on the
town from a recently active sinder cone. For me, it doesn’t get much better
than that. Inside the crater you could see the last area of activity. Just
amazing.
Too soon time to head on, but I suffered
extensive thick fog for the next few hours, but luckily I had seen this
beautiful part of Iceland when going the other way a few days ago. I arrived
back in Akureyri about 4am . Refuelled, only to find I
had left the fuel cap at the last station and I wasn’t going back for it. I
bought an emergency cap and cleaned the car inside and a little out.
Hawk had left the door unlocked so I
went inside and hit the sack.
Thought for the day: I love sinder cones.
Going to have to go and see an active one someday.
Day 23. 14/July/2014 Akureyri to Reykjavik
162 miles 1:46hrs Day
score 9.
I awoke and went to sit in the kitchen
area. Another pilot awoke and wasn’t unpleasant but said a few words and
disappeared out.
Hawk entered the kitchen, I told him
what a great time I had had. He said that the guy earlier was another pilot and
he was upset as he had a share in the POS and wanted to
use it yesterday, but I had borrowed it. Hawk was saying he was unreasonably
annoyed. So was the owner of the house that I had stayed there. This annoyed
Hawk as he saw it only reasonable to offer a guest hospitality and the others
were out of order. Saying that, had I know there was another person sharing the
car, I thought it was just Hawk’s then I would probably not have wanted to
borrow it… Anyway, what is done is done and time would move on.
There was a loud explosion from the
freezer compartment above the fridge. A coke can had frozen, the coke then
expands and explodes the can. They do that. Anyway while clearing that all up,
Hawk explained that he was flying back to Reykjavik later today to his home there for a few days and we could meet
up there later. I asked if I could have my credit card forwarded out to his
house and did he have an address at the airport where I could send the tank to.
He insisted on having it sent to his house as well and he gave me the address.
Brill. Sorted. I would get on to my friends and parents and get the items under
way.
So should I get underway! Hawk still had
his fiancé here, so I said I would walk back to the airport and see about
flying on as the weather finally looked ok.
I lovely walk back out and when at
Myflug I talked to a load more pilots in their briefing room. They said there
would not be but I still went to see if there was a fee to pay in the control
tower. There was not. The other pilots also showed me a favourable route to Reykjavik and explained I didn’t need to file a flight plan and just tell
the tower what I was doing and go. Ok. I could do that… The phone rang and one
of the guys said it was for me? It couldn’t be, no one knew where I was. The
guy on the phone was called Thurket, he was from the Icelandic Civil Aviation
Authority’s Air Accident Investigation Branch AAIB. He told me that he kept
being asked about my arrival into Iceland when I had the trouble at Egilsstadir and he couldn’t explain
as he knew nothing about it. In fact he knew the least and should know the
most. It was agreed I would go and see him when I arrived in Reykjavik where his office was. I was glad of this actually as I wanted
some closure on the event and talking to the head man, as you would certainly
do in the UK , would act as closure.
Time to move on, but at this point now,
to complicate things even more, I would like to mention a competition I won
actually in 2009 called Dawn 2 Dusk. This is where you take an aircraft, be it
a helicopter, hot air balloon, glider, and try and do what you can with it
during the hours between Dawn and Dusk. Well here at the moment, that’s about
23 hours in the day. In 2009 I tried to fly around the coast of Great Britain in a day with my long range tank I was having shipped out.
Here, while in Iceland , I would like to fly around their coast. Much easier than in Britain because it’s not nearly as far around. I wanted to start and
finish from here in Akureyri. I thought it would be nice for the museum. But I
have to move on! I still need to get to Oshkosh which is my
priority, which means I must fly on to Reykjavik . May be I can try flying around the coast from there.
I at least bought an aviation map of Iceland , only to find out that the pilots curse it, saying there was
nothing on it and the road map of the island is much better.
Oh well. I said my goodbyes. Hawk had
gone with his daughter and Fiancé already so no worries. The people had all
been so good to me here. I untied Itzy, turned him around and jumped in.
After starting the engine and turning
the radio on the control tower wanted to know my flight plan. I said I was
going to Reykjavik VFR and there was no route. He sort of insisted on which way I
was going so I told him I’d be turning around, heading up the valley direct for
Reykjavik . He asked for my flight time and persons on board. I told him
and said I had 4 hours of fuel. He thanked me and cleared me to back track
runway 01 and take off at my discretion. This I duly did and turned out to the
right and headed north.
There is so much I’m not finding the
time to write that is of interest. There has been a ship in the harbour, some
major cruise liners, but also a ship with its own helicopter on it. Everyone is
wondering who it belongs to? I got speaking to the Australian pilot of the
helicopter. He wouldn’t say who was onboard but said that they had flown on to Norway already and the ship was sailing after them for the ship to act
as a base. He was just doing some site seeing tours for the crew now before
they set off. They were hoping to sail the Northern Arctic Passing if the
sea ice breaks enough to let them. It did for the first time last year, first
time in modern history, due to global warming. Anyway I buzzed the ship a
little on take off. Up the fjord and away from Akureyri. It had been nice.
The route took me high on to the middle
plateau. Nothing much lives there as its just ice and lakes and rock. Heading
south towards Vatna-Jokull the biggest glacier the weather on route took me further
east, closer than I intended but what views. In fact cloud took me even closer
to Vatna and I had to squeeze between the volcano of Baroarbunga and
Tungnafells-Jokull. But then there was no way further south so I had to head
west and run to the coast where I could see the sun shining from this height
about 50 miles away. By this time I had torn and shredded my new map. Gosh,
they were right, it was all but useless and I reverted to the road map.
Looking back I must have flown over
Gulfoss and Geyser, but never saw them. I hit the coast after darting under low
cloud again and rounded the head at Akranes. Now the radio was in line of sight
and they could hear me when I called. Reykjavik approach wanted to know if I wanted to extend my flight plan as
it was about to expire. I told them I had weather diverted so I was delayed but
told them that I didn’t file a flight plan. He told me that I did and he had it
here from Akureyri, but not to worry, he would extend it and he handed me over
to the tower. I didn’t file one, but now was not the time to argue. There are 6
VFR routes into Reykjavik . I was to take number 1 following the coast for a left hand to
runway 13. This I duly also did. Honestly, the airport is about a mile from
town and you get a good luck on a left base for 13. The pilots at Akureyri had
told me to ask to taxi via Echo and Golf down to the Geirfugl flugskoll
(Gummy’s flying school of flight). This was agreed and I had the map ready and
found my way when on the ground with no worries.
I stopped the engine and jumped out.
Plenty of pilots and planes milling around. There must be 30 separate private
hangars, three rows of ten.
Gudmundur introduced himself as manager
of the flying school but to just call him Gummy as there was little chance of
me pronouncing his name correctly. I told him that I was told to head here by
Hurkur and Christion, he new them and agreed that it would be silly for me to
stay over the international side as the parking costs a fortune. I could leave
my plane where it was and if I needed a hand with anything I just needed to
ask. First thing to do was clear up this flight plan fiasco. It was explained
that everyone files flight plans, but they are not flight plans like I know of,
say on a formal sheet of paper, they are more like safety flight plans. You
just briefly explain what and where and when you are going to fly and a few
more details and then close it when you land and its all done over the radio
before you take off with the control tower. Oh, that made sense now.
Anyway, if I’m going to send on my
mountain bike to make room for the extra tank, there are a lot of things I
could also send on to America as the plane is totally over loaded with things I
just don’t need. So I started to empty the whole plane out. People couldn’t
understand where it was all coming from…
Gummy asked me where I was staying, I
asked if I could pitch the tent explaining the 100 night rule, he said it
looked like rain and to just kip on the sofa in the club house. There was
warmth power internet and tv. I didn’t need to be asked twice.
That’s the thing about Itzy, so small
that everyone is so helpful and it just makes travelling with my tiny plane so
easy. I hoped Hawk would not be upset, he didn’t clearly offer that I could
stay at his home, I’m sure he would have but I didn’t want to place too much
upon him.
I talked to so many young pilots at the
school, the atmosphere was buzzing, but eventually they all left and I could
get my head down, but not after watching some BBC news. Nothing
had seemingly changed since I left. Same old parliamentary scandal stuff.
Thought for the day: I’ve yet to meet an
unfriendly person on this tour. The Icelandic people are how I wish all people
were on the planet. Gummy was a founder member of the school, I don’t think he
owns it, it’s like a club, you pay to join then can fly any of their ten or so
planes. He seems the most laid back person on the planet, nothing is too much
trouble. He’s just like me…
Day 24. 15/July/2014 Fame but no
fortune! Day score 10.
I got up at 7am to make sure no one would arrive to find me asleep on the sofa.
It was raining and foggy and no one turned up till about 9.30. It was a pilot
of the group who knew that the first job was to prepare and fill up the big
coffee machine for all to enjoy later. There were many young commercial pilots
flying with either Atlantic airways with their Boeing 757’s or with Air Iceland and their Focker 50’s. Apparently the school help about 30
young pilots a year with their commercial licence and the airlines take on a
bout 30 a year, so everyone gets a job. I wish it were the same in the UK where its Dog eat Dog for a job with any airline.
A young guy called Thurther, not how
it’s spelt but how I could say it asked if I minded if his friends came and
interviewed me for their online news program. I said that if it helped him or
anybody at Geirfugl I would gladly agree. A time was set for 2pm. Meantime Gummy had called his friend Thurket at the CAA . I could go and
see him at midday and I was told where his office was over the other side of the
airfield. I decided to get out of everyone’s hair and head over on foot to take
in the old terminal and climb to the building on top of the opposing hill. From
there you could climb to the top with great views apparently of the city.
The old terminal was a relatively new
hotel with airline offices attached. You could view the old British built tower
and hangars though.
The building on top of the hill was 4
gigantic hot water tanks, say 50 meters high 40 meters diameter together with a
shiny roof on you could walk around. The space in-between them had been turned
in to a visitors centre. It was the Icelandic government’s hot water supply for
the whole city. Piped in from the geothermic regions about 40 miles east and
stored here. All quite fascinating to learn about and the view outside the busy
posh restaurant on the top floor was indeed worthy.
Thurket phoned me, said his meetings had
finished early and I said I would be with him in 15 minutes.
I was made welcome in his office and we
had an informal chat about his career and that he has some friends in the UK and our UK CAA AAIB (air accident investigation branch), where he knew some
people and I knew them to. We also talked about another incident. I believe he
was trying to lesson the emphasis on my incident by stating the fact that he
was investigating more than just mine. He mentioned a recent incident involving
a Super Cub and a very experienced captain who got caught out by the weather. I
told Thurket that I had seen the actual aircraft in Akureyri.
Anyway I asked him to help me to help
him with what he needed to know. But basically he just wanted me to go
systematically through what happened on my flight to Egilsstadir from Vagar and
see if anything could be learnt or improved from it. One thing is that he would
certainly retrain the staff at Egilsstadir that said there would be no report
to file or complete.
He listened and recorded the
conversation. He seemed interested and content with my explanation. It seemed
as if I had basically got caught out by the Austfjardarpoka, (East Fjord Fog) a
locally know phenomena, but virtually impossible to forecast. Indeed the wind
was from the North East. He explained that as the wind approached the north
eastern mountains around Egilsstadir it sort of backs up as the flow of cold
air off the glaciers begins to confront it and you get a convergence of two air
masses. This creates unbelievably quick forming fog or low ceiling cloud. Oh I
could believe it… I had been in it.
The discussion then moved on to how to
stop the repeat of this incident and how to learn from it. One quite radical
proposal from me was simply to stop international flights arriving to
Egilsstadir. I would have not come that way, gone to Reykjavik instead and been saved from the Austfjardarpoka.
Thurket wanted to obviously see the rest
of the aircraft documents. Stupidly since this morning was quite a rush, I had
forgotten them. I also had the data logger file for the aircraft. Thurket was
very interested in seeing that and I said I would bring it tomorrow also. It
was agreed to meet back up tomorrow at 10am as I needed to get back now
for this interview. The phone rang and indeed Gummy was on the phone explaining
that the camera crew had arrived. He would drive over to pick me up as he
hadn’t seen Thurket for a while. Ok.
As I travel the world, people get to
meet up again who haven’t seen each other for some time through my exploits.
It’s really great for me to see this happen, yet sometimes I just wish the
circumstances were slightly different.
Trying not to pretend to be a media and
fame seeker in front of the ultra cool Gummy I arrived back to carry out the
interview. The two crew were previous pilots at Geirfugl anyway, so the whole
thing was cool. They asked about my reasons for coming to Iceland , whether I liked it hear, about weather delays and had I had
any emergencies on route and was it safe. It was all fine. I insisted a little
that they mention the hospitality of Geirfugl. It was agreed and they departed,
seemingly impressed.
Oh by the way, everyone speaks near
perfect English to me.
I didn’t want to appear to be there all
the time so after putting my bike back together and being given the security
number for the gate, I went for a ride around the airfield. I came across a
little sandy beach area, people were swimming, but it looked a bit cold and
artificial to me. On my bike town was but a few minutes away. I explored a
little more before returning.
Gummy seemed to be there almost
permanently, but each evening people old and young would come and drink coffee
or bear and talk about aircraft and flying. Across on the opposite hangar the
sign above the door claimed that it was the hangar of the Icelandic Aviation
Historical Society. Gummy had the key and invited me around for a look. Quite a
few others joined us.
Inside a long but small workshop was a Waco , a huge
American biplane filling the space by the door to the ceiling. To the left was
the first and possibly only aircraft designed and built in Iceland . It was a biplane similar to a Tiger Moth but with its own
uniqueness. Gummy had disappeared into a back room. This was like being India Jones entering a forbidden temple, full of precious ancient
artefacts, all covered in cobwebs and dust. One entered into a closed off
section of one of the larger hangars actually and hung from the roof was a
Piper Tri-pacer. Apparently the first of Geirfugl’s aircraft. I wanted to know
why it wasn’t being rebuilt, it was historical and there seemed talk of plenty
of other aircraft being rebuilt. Underneath, just sitting there gathering dust
stood a Chipmunk. Again apparently the owner had a Chipmunk before and for a
long time, but he and his son flew it too slow and it spun in and hurt them
both. He bought another, this one, but they had been too scared to fly it, so
it just sits here… There were spare parts for all sorts of craft on racking and
several German ‘k’ series glider wings and fuselages were stored behind the
racks. There had been quite a lot of gliding activity here in the past. I had
seen glider trailers at Akureyri and other fields from the air.
Everyone thanked Gummy the key master
and we all exited the temple to allow the dust to settle for a few more months
or years.
Thurther asked me if I wanted to see
more historical aircraft, but of course being the answer we headed of to view
more. There is a good thing to see a new aircraft that I’ve never seen before
yet a sadness when you see the state of them and wonder if they will ever fly
again or finally be crushed or broken up. I wish every plane was kept
serviceable, but it’s just not possible. Thurther opened as many of the 30
hangars he had access to. His pride and joy was to show me a 1950’s Cessna 170,
very rare and called ‘Oh My God’? I wondered why until he showed me the
registration. TF-OMG . Thurther was only young, but loved his aircraft, and
enthusiasm shone out. One thing I was learning is that there were a lot of
aircraft rebuild projects being completed in these hangars, which was great to
see, but this also meant there had been a lot of crashes requiring rebuilds and
indeed Thurther could real off many incidents including the Super Cub and
airline captain. Everyone knew that one, even me…
About midnight , all wondered off back home allowing me some more sleep in the
armchair.
Thought for the day: I don’t know, just
interesting…
Day 25. 16/July/2014 That’s weird and not a fair fine for a mega star! Day score 9.
Today I had to cycle back to see Thurket
again at the Icelandic Air Accident Investigation Branch, drop of the aircraft
docs I had forgot and get my coat back which I had also forgot. I’m doing a lot
of forgetting things recently? It must be due to my exhaustion. When I arrived
there he wasn’t in and one of his colleagues said he was away on leave due to
an illness. I told this colleague that I had seen him yesterday and agreed to
meet at 10 this morning. This was seemingly news to him. Thurket duly arrived
just after 10. I had a report to write and sign that Thurket brought from home
being a special English version. I showed him the documents and also the data
logger file. He loaded it up on his computer and I showed him how you could
view it live on Google Earth, I couldn’t on my slow old laptop but he had a
super duper machine with two huge screens.
As I started the simulation I could
show, that this is where I descended, this is where I entered cloud, this is
when I climbed back out and so on. I had put this flight out of my mind and the
computer screen depiction was real enough to bring it all flooding back. Heck,
I had been lucky, I didn’t know quite how close I was to the cliffs when I
finally turned away because I couldn’t see them in cloud. He was fascinated by
my tiny little logger and said everyone should have one... Everything was ok,
but now he mentioned that there was a thought from a friend of his down town at
the actual CAA offices that my plane needed a special permission to fly in
Iceland, because it only has a permit to fly not a full Certificate of
Airworthiness issued by our Civil Aviation Authority. He asked since I was on
my bike if I would ride down into town where the Icelandic CAA were, to sort
this out.
When leaving I discussed his colleagues
view that he was ill and would not be here today. He had damaged his arm while
skiing I believe and he was off to see the German Grand prix now. We talked
about the F1 cars and the drivers and had similar views.
I cycled down to the CAA offices.
Indeed they showed me their web site which confirmed I needed their special
permit permission doc. They were concerned that I hadn’t got one as they issue
quite a few and wondered why I had not applied? I could get it there and it
wouldn’t cost much. The thing was, I had never read this in their AIP . All countries
issue their Air Information Publication, which includes all information and
requirements about flying around in their countries airspace. I asked them for
a copy and to find where it mentions this permit. It wasn’t in there. Arha!
There was no request or direction to their CAA web site from
the Icelandic AIP . I stood with a smug smile on my face until after 15 minutes,
one of the three people looking through their AIP eventually
found a little paragraph in a sub section explaining about the special permit.
What happened seemingly was that most people get an expensive ‘Airspace
Clearing Agency’ to sort out all the required permissions and clearance and
they know about this permit. I had done it myself, found the words in their AIP where it said
“There are no special permissions required” and stopped reading and went on to
the next country. Had I continued reading through their AIP , I might have
found the little paragraph about the necessity for the permit, but I doubt it…
This highlighted a problem to them and had everyone confused. Yet again there
was a problem for me and they agreed that it didn’t make sense the way it was
explained in their AIP and they would have it changed. Possibly I had highlighted a
loop hole in their system that they needed to change. This took hours by the
way, before I had paid and left. It cost 19,960 Krona. Hang on, that’s £100.
What for? The aircraft was no different to any other, they had not come and
inspected Itzy? It was just like fine for the hell of it… Argh!!! It wasn’t
really fair!
I cycled back through the old town which
was nice. Back at the field I was welcomed as some type of mega star??? The
interview had been out on the internet news last night and someone found it on
the web and displayed it on the large weather screen for all to watch.
Apparently it was well received. I had my Charlatans hoody on and they played
Charlatans as back ground music. It mentioned Geirfugl and everyone was smiling
as it was translated for me. So…
Hurkur phoned me to say he had my tank
and new bank car and would drive them over. I needed to pay him for the extra
tax on the freight of the reserve fuel tank and for the new fuel cap for his POS car, so he
offered me a drive to the bank to get some money and to show me more of the
city. The bank card worked and I also used it to buy ice-cream for him and his
3 year old daughter, who accompanied us. The ice cream came from a popular ice
cream parlour down by the dock side.
I waved a very fond goodbye back at the
field and went back to the flying club to take my mountain bike apart and box
it and plan the around Iceland trip. This took till 4am though. I’m shattered and tired and torn. Having a great time
but also really saddened by the weather… It’s raining again now…
Thought for the day: Another problem for
the journey. It wasn’t really my fault about this permit, but again it doesn’t
look good on my behalf. Oh well!
Day 26. 17/July/2014 Bye bye bike…
Day score 6.
Woke at 6am to the sound of rain hitting the window. Went back to sleep, I’d
only had two hours sleep anyway and when everyone else arrived at the club I
had a pounding head ache. I had looked at the weather, it was possible to
attempt to fly around the coast, but it would have been a pretty horrible
flight anyway with a pounding headache and trying not to fall asleep in the
air. I would have gone, knowing the views and the adrenalin would have got me
round in one piece. To come to Iceland with the intent on this flight and not to be able to even attempt
the flight due to the weather would be so sad. It’s the 50th
anniversary of the competition and if I could get around Iceland it would be difficult to beat.
I desperately needed more sleep, but where?
The only place I could think of was back in the plane, so I jumped back, pulled
the white cover over everything and got a few more hours.
A couple of days ago I wrote an email to
all the people of the KR2 club in America . I wanted to see if one of them would be prepared to look after my
bike. I would post on to them and pick up and swap it with the extra tank on
the way past. About 10 people offered to do this and more. Some offered to fly
the bike to Oshkosh in their bigger planes and I could pick it up there. Stupidly
though I realised that, I could just post the bike to myself. There was a major
USPS post office just outside the airport. I phoned them up, they said just to
put “General Delivery” in the address and it would be held there at the Oshkosh post office for
me. With this done, I finished taping up the parcel, addressed it to myself and
Gummy drove me to the post office.
22 kilos of bike, tools and paperwork. £110
to ship by sea, which could take two to six weeks, or £150 to airfreight it,
which would take four to six days. Knowing my luck, if I posted it by sea it
would take the six weeks. But at this rate of my progress, it might still beat
me to Oshkosh …
On a sad note, world war 3 started today
when the Malaysian 777 got shot down over the Ukraine .
But on a good note, entertainment was laid
on as Gummy and four of the other pilots had formed a band and practised to be
the entertainment at a fly-in at the end of the month. I finished the day
sorting out photos and publishing them on flickr and trying to get this diary
up to date.
Day 27. 18/July/2014 Weather or not!
Day score 5.
Woke at 6am to the sound of rain hitting the window. Went back to sleep, A
quick look at the satellite shows that cloud has now filed virtually all the
north Atlantic route. There is a low pressure system about 500 miles south of Iceland which is just throwing weather front after weather front towards
us. Every time the depression weakens and starts to fade, another comes to join
it from either America or Greenland and they combine and strengthen and off we go again… More rain. It
has been the worst summer since last year apparently. Yet last year was the
worst ever summer on record. Brill!
I headed out to walk to town in-between the
showers. I climbed the Cathedral tower for the view. There are a few Japanese
tourists as ever everywhere, but some of them are still insisting on wearing
their face masks. If I was Icelandic I would see this as almost insulting.
These Japanese people clearly couldn’t distinguish between the clearest
Icelandic fresh air, yet a little misty and smog. Good views from the tower…
Inside the cathedral was a huge pneumatic pipe organ, reaching to the high
ceiling and it was being tuned and tested, and the tuner could certainly play
it, with a blur of hands pulling knobs, running the keys and his feet were a
blur on the pedals too.
I had another look around the docks. As
with all of Iceland , there were no fences and you could walk right up to huge fishing
boats being repaired or huge naval frigates. I grabbed myself another
Strawberry Ice-cream from the harbour parlour Hawk had taken me to, as busy as
ever. On the way back I stopped to watch a documentary film in an exhibition on
Volcanoes in Iceland , fascinating. I did some shopping and came back via the less
touristy part of town to see how the locals live. You could walk through the
back passages. I keep coming across Banksi copies painted on walls. I believe
they must be copies, very nice though. On the inner ring road I came across and
auditorium with five huge posters of Icelandic celebrities promoting “Iceland ’s Got Talent!” on them. That would be worth seeing, but… Its not
me.
Back to the field to continue this diary. I
never get much done though because of talking to many people here.
Back in Geirfugl, I heard that one of the
pilots flew the rescue helicopters that fly out to Greenland . His name was
Siggi and he had a lot of useful information about Greenland that will probably
change my route once more. He said not to fly out to sea as I intended in case
the engine stops and I need to ditch, but to fly just on top of the Greenland
Ice shelf. It was only 5,000ft where I would be. He said it was smooth and
there were better chances of survival landing on it with an engine failure than
ditching in the sea. There were no polar bears on top and you couldn’t land in
the water safely anyway because of all the shattered ice blocks. Ok… He gave me
some helpful fuel supplier telephone numbers and pointed out some other
emergency airfields. He had good maps of Greenland which I have not
and said he would bring some spare ones in tomorrow.
One of the problems I have in my head with
this flight is that not only am I putting myself at risk, but I’m also putting
at risk the safety of the people who would come out to hopefully rescue me if
the engine stops. I think its quiet selfish what I am trying to do. So here was
a good opportunity to ask one of the rescue helicopter guys what he thought. He
replied that “No no, don’t worry! It would be a good laugh, we’d probably race
the Greenland boys to see who could pick you up first. It would be a good sortie
for us. Something interesting to do!” That reply has cleared my head problems…
Siggi had no worries about flying his helicopter any time, anywhere and in any
conditions… Ok…
With that he and everyone left and I was
alone again to tidy up and get some rest once more on the sofa. But only after
checking if WW3 hadn’t started from the downing of this Malaysian 777.
Thought for the day: I’m impressed with how
much enthusiasm there is for aviation in Iceland and the members, all 180 at this club. They are flying most
aircraft everyday in average weather. You wouldn’t find or see this in the UK .
Day 28. 19/July/2014 Always surprised by
people you meet… Day score
9.
There is an old guy called Benni for my
benefit. He must have retired, smokes a pipe almost continually and is here
virtually everyday. His hearing is not so good anymore or his English, but
Gummy had shown me on his phone a video of a flight where they flew to England to pick up an old Russian war bird to return to Iceland . Benni had been given the job of ferrying the plane as he had
flown everything and anything everywhere. He had flown DC3’s in the early days
right up to the Boeing 757’s when he retired and was a mainstay and promoter of
the youth within the club. Benni invited me to see his Pitts Model 12 unlimited
aerobatic aircraft that he had built and redesigned himself to be a better
plane than the Americans make. I didn’t think you could make Model 12’s I
thought they were all factory built, but he had built this one apparently. It
would be worth seeing. It was the other side of the airfield and Thurther
joined us. Thurther is a photo journalist, if he has nothing to report he hangs
out at the Geirfugl club as well, so he is here a lot too.
At the back of a huge insulated hangar was
Benni’s huge white Model 12 Pitts. How could he have made this, it was an
awesome plane. Less its engine, which had been removed and sent to Lithuania for repair. Stunning and his respect levels went through the roof
for his efforts. Especially as he must be 75ish by now.
On the way back Thurther showed me more
iconic aircraft designed by Icelandic aviators, some pretty impressive, some
not so, but any aircraft designed and built and flying, after building my own,
I know is a major achievement in itself.
The weather looked like it might brake
nicely for me to try and fly the coast tomorrow. And Thurther and I took time
to study a route. With the long range tank now installed in my plane, it would
give 7 hours range if necessary and I would only need to stop twice for fuel
around Iceland . But 7 hours at a time in my plane was a lot to ask so I still
broke it up into 4 hour flights. It would be good to test the long range tank
though.
There was almost a party atmosphere in
the club tonight with food and beer brought by a group of ten young pilots of
all levels. I met Bjarki who flew with Air Iceland . He flew to Kulusuk as well of all places and he showed me some
even better weather sites that they used. This opened up a whole new field of
weather studying. It was still bad by the way, with a lot of cloud on route to
Greenland, but a possible attempt around the coast was possible tomorrow, not
easy but I was running out of time and opportunities and Oshkosh was looming
being only 9 days away…
One of the guys who turned up tonight
who’s name was Joel, seemed like he had an enthusiasm beyond the norm. I mean
some people like flying, but for some people it’s in their blood. He explained
that he got on well and helped often over the international side with the BIRK
aircraft handling company. In return the guys at BIRK would call him if anything
interested flew through. There is a surprising amount of cross Atlantic travel
and most of it goes through BIRK at Reykjavik . Joel had been to the Reno Air races
where I hope to head if I get to Oshkosh . He explained
how he got there though.
A ferry pilot flying some war bird
arrived, can’t remember what it was and the pilot asked Joel to show him around
town and to take him to the best bars and best restaurants. The ferry pilot
blew hundreds of dollars and paid for or Joel’s food as well. There was bad
weather and Joel looked after the guy all the time he was there. Reno was mentioned
and the pilot was competing and invited Joel to come over and work as part of
the pit crew. They stayed in touch and indeed the following year Joel went over
there. They won their category and since Joel had worked so hard for them they
gave him the trophy and he has it at home.
This was committed dude. He went on to
explain that he if set his mind at something he would do it and to the best
standard, a standard that most normal people can not believe, a bit like me. We
were very similar in manner and life style and thoughts and perspectives. His
passion though was hunting and rifles. But rifles shooting to an accuracy of 10
shots within 1 meter over 1 kilometer. He told me how it was possible and it’s
complicated, and perfection of tuning of barrel of gun in weight and length and
powder and weight of bullet are critical. Fascinating.
He gave me the name of the guy he crewed
for. Said he was a multi millionaire in Canada with his own private fleet of war bird aircraft and that if I
wanted to go and see him, he could organise it. Brilliant conversation of two
equal minds. We are both quite individualistic. People would not believe when
he would go hunting and live off the land for two weeks on his own… I’m not
quite that detached, I like my own company but I get quite lonely at times…
Jees, it was 2.am… He bid goodnight and
after some more internet TV news and watching some motor racing on Wheels
internet TV I got to bed.
Thought for the day: I want to go home
and build a Pitts Model 12…
Day 29. 20/July/2014 Ground hog day!
Day score 1.
One of my favourite films is Ground Hog
Day, where the main protagonist, what ever he does during the day, be it good
or bad, whenever he falls asleep, when he wakes up, it’s the same day time and
time again! For the film. it just happens to coincide with a special Ground Hog
Day in the town, where the dignitaries use the
Ground Hog’s behaviour to predict the weather fortunes of the town for
the year. Well I have my very own Weather Hog Day. Whatever the weather, may it
be forecast sunny or rainy, whether it brakes into a sunny gorgeous evening
where everyone goes flying except me, or it being foggy, whatever… When I wake
up on that sofa, about 7am so that no one arrives early and sees me sleeping on
the sofa, even though Gummy is still cool with it, whenever I wake and open my
eyes, it is chucking it down…
Today was no different. I was optimistic
about flying the coast today, but the weather has all turned into a bag of
worms over night.
I fuelled up the plane with Thurther’s
help though when it finally stopped raining.
The rest of the day was trying to plan
more and to catch up with the diary. Except whenever I look at the keyboard,
because I have to go to bed late when everyone leaves but get up early and on
top of my long term fatigue. I’m feeling no better.
The weather site that Bjarki showed me
has some other interesting pages. It is an Icelandic weather Bureau site but it
also includes seismology for earthquake activity. There are amazingly about 10
a day, only 2 to 3 in magnitude, but still. It also includes volcanic activity and
every conceivable map of forecasts and predictions of sea temp, air pressure,
cloud cover… Too much information really.
Thought for the day: I keep meeting some
great people though. Artle, Darti Kristion, all pilots in training or airline
pilots. None of those names are correct. Again I don’t have the correct keys on
the keyboard to write them down, that’s if I could spell them, I can’t
pronounce them so what hope. So my poor little brain is torn. I’m having a
great time, but in the back of my mind is this ticking clock. Tomorrow it is
one week to Oshkosh and I’m not half way there. I’m going to miss the start for
sure, if not all of it. And Oshkosh is the reason
I am putting my plane at risk as well as me. I’ll hopefully be rescued. The
plane never will be.
Day 30. 21/July/2014 Around Iceland, almost… 1,067 miles 9:20 hrs
Day score 10.
I’d given up looking at the forecast.
But when I awoke at 6, it was clear skies, no rain, low cloud but no fog…
Looking at the weather, it looked
possible to fly around the whole coast today. There were still lots of issues
with the weather with weather fronts, warm and cold, lying close off shore to
the south and to the north, but still. This looked like my one and only chance.
I would have to give up the idea of attempting this and head for Greenland next weather
slot or I would miss Oshkosh completely for sure. The weather on route to Greenland was very poor,
so I had nothing to loose today, and everything to gain. If I didn’t get
around, at least I could say to myself that I had a go. No attempt then no
entry into the 50th Dawn to Dusk Competition.
The plan was to take off with 90 litres
of fuel in the main tank and 40 litres in the extra tank sitting in the
passenger’s seat. This gave 6:30 hours of flight. I planned a
5 hour flight running around the south of the island along to my first stop in
Egilsstadir, where I had entered Iceland on the 4th of July. That flight was 461 statute
miles. I would refuel only the main tank as the next stop was going to be to
Akureyri which was only 283 miles along the coast and I could do that in 3
hours and there were 4 hours in the main tank. At Akureyri I again would fill
only the main tank as the next flight to Isafjordur and its famous bent
approach to their runway along the side of the Fjord was 281 miles. Back to Reykjavik was then just 306 miles and easily reachable with just a full
main tank. Total distance for the day of some 1,330 miles, 1,109 nautical miles
or 2,200 kilometers and a flight time of some 14 hours or so.
I had my fine pitch prop fitted for the
trip around the world. It gave me better take off performance and climb rate,
needed for such a journey in some circumstances, but it was no good for a high
cruise speed. A comfortable 110knots was all that was possible and I didn’t
want to thrash the engine at max continuous rpm as it was hopefully going to
take me all the way around the world and the next flight would be across 4
hours of 2 degree Celsius Atlantic Ocean . So pushing the engine was not on the cards…
Ok so their was a little seismology over
night but no new volcanic activity with zero ash in the air, not that it would
affect my piston engine like it does the jet engines anyway.
I would go anti-clockwise around as I
did when encircling Great Britain , this was
so I could see the coast line clearer
from my left side of the cockpit. There was a small low pressure centred over
the north of the island with air circulating anticlockwise around it, so I
could expect light tail winds. The rest of the Atlantic surface pressure chart
analysis was full of every type of front imaginable. But the way that they
would progress through the day and I would hopefully progress, meant that there
could be a window of opportunity of no fronts to be flown through all the way
around. We would see.
The next item to check was the road
condition Web Cams. They are situated all over Iceland and they are primarily to check on road conditions. Normally
three web cams, one looking left, one looking directly down onto the road next
to a snow depth gauge and one looking to the right. The clever thing about
these web cams is that they can show the proceeding few hours in 15 minute
intervals. Looking at these images you can clearly see the cloud base, but more
importantly if it is rising or falling. My area of concern was around the
Gardur peninsular and the nearby Keflavik International Airport , which always seemed to be fogged in during the morning. It was
clear also and the Metar and TAF for Keflavik were not good,
but not bad, with some cloud at 800ft. There was some sun shining on some of
the Web cams which considering the recent weather, was a bonus…
I put on my immersion suit and life
jacket as during the day, some of the flight would require a sea ditching if
the engine stopped. The water on the east of the island was a barmy 8 degrees
Celsius and 3 degrees on the west coast. That gives you about 15 minutes to
climb into your life raft before loosing use of your hands. Without an
immersion suit, you are incapable of climbing into your life raft after about 4
minutes and then you would be dead within the hour.
Even though it had been daylight since 2am , the airport did not open till 7am local. By the time I had satisfied myself that the morning fog
around Keflavik would not develop, climb on board, taxi out, call my flight
plan over the radio, complete run up checks and taxi to hold short of their
runway 13, it was just before 8am.
Airborne on the hour Reykjavik cleared me low level via the coast and he said he would get on
to Keflavik to let me do the same. Keflavik were not busy
so that was no problem for them and they told me to report Gardskagi Light
house. I’d been there in the car and recognised it easily. The steam from the
famous hot spa pools of the Blue Lagoon just disappeared into low cloud inland
and there was a fog bank way below a few miles off shore.
Hum, 20 minutes later and I was already
forced down below 500ft near Porlakshoen. There was skud cloud hanging
everywhere, occasionally the fog sea fog would role onto the shore or the
ground fog would drift out to sea. There was lenticular cloud up high over the
volcanoes inland, layered stratus at several layers, too many to count or see.
The newly formed islands of
Vestmannaeyjar peered out the murk and fog 5 miles off shore while the black
beaches from the ash from the latest eruptions of Eyjafjalla-Jokul whizzed by
just below my Kr2’s left wingtip. The unpronounceable Eyjafjalla-Jokul was the
volcano responsible for closing down most of Europe ’s airports and
airspace as it jettisoned clouds of ash tens of thousands of feet into the air
and it is a relatively small volcano. If it’s neighbour Myrdals-Jokull or the
vast Vatna-Jokull erupt, it will be a sight to see… But not this close… Myrdals
is looking like awakening. There is constant seismic activity there now and a
mass outflow of glacial melt water flooded the highway just last week causing
evacuations, but it seems to have calmed down a little.
If a small volcano further north erupts
it’s not really a big deal, but if the volcano is high enough to be capped in
snow and ice, then when the magna rises closer to the surface, this glacier
melt sending millions of gallons of water down to meet the molten lava coming
up. These two don’t really mix too well and the water boils, building steam
pressure like a steam train except there is no ‘blow of safety valve’. So when
the top cap finally comes off the volcanoes crater, it goes with a bit of a
bang.
At Dyrholaey there is a famous outcrop
of lava that stands firm and leads out into the sea. It has collapsed with sea weathering and at
the moment has created an arch that the pilots are having fun flying through.
Its about 60 feet across and 30 feet high. So so tempting. The only cause for concern
is sea birds and as I fly over the arch, not under it, I made a wise choice…
There were seagulls everywhere.
On shore the land is covered in cloud
and 2 miles off shore there is an endless bank of fog. But the coast is clear
and I’m blasting down it now with quite a tail wind.
I’ve been transferring fuel in little
stages any time I can get more into the main tank. As this moves the CofG
further forward the aircraft slows down, but it is nicer to fly and not so
twitchy. That’s about all in the front tank now. I’ve pumped through the 40 litres.
At Jokulsarlon a lake has formed as the
coast line is backed up by the sea. The lake is fed from Breioamerkur-Jokull
and as the glacier breaks into the lake icebergs float off. They then follow
the flow of the lake to the outlet but get blocked by its size and back up into
the lake also. They main ring road ‘Highway 1’ passes over the river right next
to where the icebergs float. It’s a great tourist spot and I can’t count the
tourist coaches parked up there.
But now I’m not feeling so great, almost
nauseas and disorientated. I’m not sure if its just tiredness, the lack of
horizon, the continual requirements for pitch, role and yaw adjustments, but
I’ve never suffered from this before. Maybe it is the smell of the venting
avgas from the tank sitting next to me, but I have the fresh air vent blasting
fresh air in my face? I don’t know but it’s not pleasant. I tried drinking a
lot of water in case I was dehydrated. I think it helped.
As the sun rises cumulus cloud is now
forming on land with some cumulorockus too embedded in there.
As I turn up the east coast fjords the
see fog clears. The sun is out and altocumulus and upper cirrus is now the
order of the day. But the altocumulus is only at the end of each fjord, so I
can safely climb and fly over it as it is only in 5 mile wide bands.
The cloud clears completely further
north and I get a clearer look at the mountains I nearly collided with when
arriving in Iceland a few weeks ago and the fjord I couldn’t pass through.
Strange, I could fly straight there today on my way to Egilsstadir but now I
have to follow the coast again. I remember the path I took, but last time I was
down at 300ft this time, at 3,000ft I feel a lot more comfortable.
I fly inland for the first time to head
for my first refuelling stop. The wind is from the south so I can fly straight
in for their runway 22 and I land 4:12 after taking off, some 45
minutes below my ETA , excellent.
As I pulled up to the taps I’m
confronted by another ‘G’ registered aircraft, a CT microlight. The pilot is Ed
McCallum. He has flown to Oshkosh , I had read about him and now he is on his way back… Well well
well. He is in a rush. He asked me if I had any narrow escapes so far? “Yes.” I
said. He replies that he had been down to 300ft crossing to Kulusuk twice due
to weather fronts and is he mad? I would have to say “yes!” personally, I won’t
fly through warm or cold fronts, especially on such a dangerous flight anyway.
He jumps in and taxi’s off on his way to Wick Scotland . Wow! What a coincidence… I refuel and jump back in
I only need 32 litres to refill the main
tank. I pay for the fuel with Jhoan. I know him well since chatting the last
time I was here. No one can forget that quite yet…
Airborne again at 13:06 , that was almost an hour on the ground. But chatting had been
nice and I can easily get around today weather permitting and even though I’m
trying to set a record, it does not warrant being hasty with people.
The north east of Iceland is quite flat really and the flight goes well before reaching
the mountains around Akureyri. There is a strong southerly airflow now and I
know its going to be rough flying downwind of the mountains before entering the
Eyjafjord. Wow, as I round the final teeth jerking mountainside I’m confronted
with a five mile long role cloud. It has no flat base, it’s just a cone of
cloud spinning around and I’m not going to get anywhere near that severe
turbulence. As the cloud narrows to a point I can see the end spinning.
I approach Akureyri and I’m told to
report ‘Down wind right hand for runway 01.’ That’s north, but I’ve just been
flying into a strong southerly headwind. This will be landing down wind. But
nope. I’ve heard of this before. You can have the wind blowing different ways
on each end of the runways as the air masses converge over the airfield. I’m
number three to land. You can’t miss The Foker 50 as it touches down but where
is the new number one that I am to follow. I extend down wind. Oh it’s a tiny
micro-light, no wonder I couldn’t see him down there. I landed at 3:34pm after 2:28 of flight, ahead of schedule
again. Great.
I refuelled with 52 litres of fuel and
made a sandwich, as I’ve not really eaten yet.
Ok, back in the air by 4.25pm with only another 2:30 hour flight. This is on. I
can get round… Hum… My artificial horizon hasn’t erected. It sometimes does
this if you run it back up before it stops completely, then it takes some time
to re-gather its thoughts, but I was on the ground for about 40 minutes. It
should have stopped completely. I can’t feel any rotation from the tired
bearings on the glass front and it shows no life at all as I swing the aircraft
around. Oh well…
Ok, around the Trollaskagi mountain
range, across the Skaga-fjord. Layers of cloud again but no real worries. The
Skagaheidi peninsula as flat, hardly above sea level about 30 miles long, 10
miles wide and there is cloud on the horizon. I can see across the peninsular
at this height and the sun is shining on Hunafloi,a massive 40 mile wide
expanse of sea that separates Iceland from the North West Fjords, the most spectacular apparently. They must be pretty
impressive as what I have seen so far is pretty good.
I’m diving down now as an unbelievably
straight line of cloud is rolling in as far as I can see. Down at 500ft, dam
this isn’t cloud, it’s a fog bank the likes I have never seen. It has a wall
which is as straight as a die each way out of site and it is heading inland.
I’ve got to get around the peninsular before it engulfs it. No worries, I am
but 3 miles from the top, then I can turn west for some 8 miles and can head
south again away from the fog bank. I fly into the fog at Skgata point. The sun
is still shining on the sea inland on the other side of the flat peninsular. I
just need to get around the headland at Selvikurtangi and I’ll be ok. I’m doing
130knots, pushing the engine like I said I wouldn’t, but it won’t be for long.
I’ll soon be back out of the mist. Hang on, the visibility is getting worse. I
turn Selvikurtangi, wave at the people outside the hotel at Hafoif, the only
building on the peninsular, but now I can see down better than I can see ahead
and I’m only at about 50ft. What is going on? This fog bank isn’t travelling at
120knots or I would be doing 250knots across the ground, but yet I’m loosing
sight of the ground now. How can this be? Then it dawned… This fog isn’t
travelling faster than I can fly, it’s being created, it is forming faster than
I can fly… That’s bad news. I have no option an no artificial horizon either,
but to pull up and aim for the sun and keep it in the dame place in the canopy.
At a vertical speed of 120knots I pope dot of the fog in about 30 seconds of
climbing. My god, it was miles ahead of me now!!! I headed south as quick as I
could, sorry engine…
The fog bank slowed as it came up against
the outflow off the highland area south of the Huna-fjord and I got ahead of
it. I looked back at the North Eastern Fjord land, the mountains sticking out
the cloud and fog. Dam dam dam dam dam!!!!
Scuppered again. Am I not allowed to
achieve anything in life… I was getting close but no, it was taken away from me
again. I circled around a few times…
Options, fly around the Fjordland using GPS to continue my
around the coast attempt, hoping the fog may abate and not be covering my final
fuel stop of Isafjordur or go home… Argh!
Home didn’t look too clever either,
there was no way to fly direct on route, it was really black in land and high!
Hum, I’ve got 2 hours of fuel left to do something.
I headed south anyway and up the
Hruta-fjord. As I looked west it looked brighter out to sea... I’d rather fly
over the sea than get caught out over land. The Fjordland aught to be causing a
barrier to the poor weather coming down from the north. I’d go for it and I
followed the road over the highlands to Budardalur, there was an airfield there
I could put down on as well. It got a bit narrow and low but I was soon through
to the ocean and the Breioa-fjord. Now to head south…The Snaefellsnes
peninsular was in rain as far as I could see so there was no point in going around
it. To the north the sun shone on a thousand islands and it looked beautiful
but lets just go home and call it a day. Again through a valley toped by cloud,
it looked brighter, so again I followed the road over the hills over the
Heydalur pass and out over a lava flow to the sea. It was brighter and now I
could hear and call Reykjavik as they were now in line of site. I called up the approach
frequency and got my safety flight plan that was opened when leaving Akureyri
to Isafjordur modified for a divert back to Reykjavik . It was quite clear now and I climbed back up to 2,000ft, which
seemed quite high for the day. I was asked to call passing Akranes and to
Squark 2127. My approach to Reykjavik would be via the VFR route 1 then following the coast for a
left base for runway 13, the one I had took off from. I was back by 7.05pm … very very disappointed. That was possible if I only had the
weather.
Ok so now it was time to check over the
plane and load it up ready for the flight to Greenland . I’d flown 9:20 hours today. That would almost have seen me in Canada . Thurther turned up. I shook my head… He knew. I spent a few
hours chatting to all the other pilots. Not that I needed to gain their
respect, but hearing what I had tried to do certainly did. I was now seen as an
equal fellow Icelandic pilot. The weather looked good tomorrow, but I had no
working artificial horizon. It’s simply not safe to do what I’m doing without
one. So I’m going no where till I can fix it.
Thought for the day: I’m deemed to not be
allowed to complete anything. I had done some of my best flying, made the best
decisions and done the hard bits, but the weather gods still took it all away.
Day 31. 22/July/2014 Horizontal attitude
required. Day score 10.
I’m shattered. That took a lot out of me
yesterday and I didn’t have a lot onboard. I took the A/H artificial horizon
out of the plane and connected it to Gummy’s vacuum cleaner. Nothing worked, it
was seized solid. Gummy set off to look at the back of his stores room. Low and
behold, he only came out with another artificial, just like mine. He said I
could have it. It had been taken out of a plane because it was unreliable. We
ran it up on the vacuum. We both laughed as it sounded worse than mine a shook
and vibrated like mad. But maybe some of the bits could be used to help fix
mine. I took it apart, seriously apart. The rotating gyro centre drum was
seized. I got into it through a little window and moved it with a screw driver.
This sort of operation is done in a clean room with surgeon’s equipment and
precession. Gummy and I were shoving it around with a screwdriver and spinning
it by blasting it with an airline. It did free up though and I washed out the
bearings and re-lubricated them. It seemed fine again? Success and I rebuilt it
all and refitted it to the plane. I re-did the engine tappets and it all looked
good again. I added 94 litres of fuel to what was onboard. The plane was ready
for Greenland , but I wasn’t and neither was the weather. I remember going
somewhere for a kip. Just too tired right now…
In the evening I started laying out
individual sheets for the next 5 flight that would take me to Canada . There was not much point in going on from there as I was still
uncertain of my route through Canada . I would ask some local pilots what was best if I got there. I
knew I was going next to Kulusuk, east coast of Greenland about half way up,
then a long flight to Narsarsaraq on the southern tip of Greenland and then up
to the capital at Nuuk half way up the west coast. I then would cross to
Iqaluit or Frobisher Bay , same place, different name. It was the local Inuit way of
saying it or the English way.
From there I would probably go south
west heading straight for Oshkosh and a place on Hudsen Bay called Puvirnituq,
then due south to La Grande Riviere, part of a Hydro Electric dam supply
airport and then a massive flight to Saunt Se Marie just over the border in
America to clear customs and then another 3 hours to Oshkosh. Right… Tonight
the only place I was going was to sleep. Via Wheel TV, if only to hear some
English language.
Thought for the day: BBC entertainment
digital channel are pumping out continual repeats of the Graham Norton show.
They were fun to watch, just to remind me of how to laugh and joke. I can’t
join in with the humour here as most of the jokes are said in Icelandic and
don’t really translate very well. Except today they told me that the call
Gummy, Grumpy, as he is always moaning and not smiling. I find him very
humorous and indeed he is great for keeping all these egotistical pilots in
their rightful place. There is a flight simulator set up in one of the briefing
rooms and they all take it in turns to fly the biggest aircraft into the
shortest, most difficult approach in Iceland, which is Isafajordur, the
airfield I never got to. Gummy can do it every time…
Day 32. 23/July/2014 Lets go for a
swim.
Day score 10.
Ground Hog day, its foggy and pissing
down. It was bright and sunny yesterday evening… Everyone greets me with “Still
here?” as a joke, but it’s not that funny. Lots of bad weather on route to
Kulusuk today… More reports, planning and diary, if I can stay awake…
I toured more hangars today and saw some
other great projects and workmanship from pilots who’s names I just wish I
could remember. Anyway an elder, than the youth group of pilots, guy asked me
if I had been swimming yet at one of the many famous outdoor swimming baths
around Reykjavik . It’s another Icelandic custom which I have to admit to has
missed and I could do with a swim. The gent, who often turned up in cycling
gear and loved his riding, printed out a map of one of the local pools that was
highly rated anyway. Tonight I would go, it was open till 10.30pm .
At 8pm I walked off with swimming gear in bag. It was but a twenty
minute walk to the Vesturbaejarlaug pool. The air was cool, but brave it out
and the pool was warm. I loved it. To stretch out and remove all aches and
pains. I swam some 40 lengths before joining the local community in the hot
thermal pools. Hot pools outside in the blustery evening sky. The steam being
blown everywhere. I sat for about an hour amongst 100 locals all chatting about
work, Tv, News. Since there were so many foreigners working in Reykjavik , half the conversations were in English. The pools were marked
in different temperature, the steam room was unbearable after 3 minutes and I
swam and bathed until everyone got up to leave just before 10.30pm. Still light
of course. They had a little spin drying machine for your swimwear, that was
cool. Completely refreshed, I walked back to the airfield. On the way back I
grabbed food from the 10-11 store and some washing powder. I had spotted a
washing machine in the hangar, it was time to see if it worked. I went back to
an empty Geirfugl. Loaded up the washing machine and turned the water brown
with some of my clothes… Good, and I could get a good night rest and sleep
well.
Thought for the day: A relaxing day that
I needed so much. The Geirfugl radiators are covered in my socks. It looks like
a laundrette in here.
Day 33. 24/July/2014 Ground Hog day
again…
Day score 1.
The weather looks good tomorrow, that’s
all I have to say about today. Oh and my clothes now smell nice and fresh.
Thought for the day: This is beyond a
joke. Oshkosh start in 4 days from now…
Day 34. 25/July/2014 Ground hog day
day…
Day score 6.
Last night I took some pictures of Itzy
in the midnight bright sky and drew a picture of my Kr2 with me in it saying
thank you to Geirfugl on the white board in preparation for me to depart today.
It looked ok and I have printed off all the necessary information of flight
plans and plogs and airfield data sheets and maps. Come to this morning though
and no. Fogged out…
Benni’s engine for his Pitts Model 12
has turned up. He wanted a hand lifting it in so Thurther and I went to have a
look at the job. They had returned the engine, which looked resplendent in its
new paint at 400 horse power. It was originally 360HP. That might not sound
much more, but it’s 10% and is going to make the aircraft even more ballistic.
Benni said three people was all it took to drop the engine out, yeah may be 3
people did drop it out onto the floor from a great distance, but us 3 couldn’t
move it less lift it in. It wasn’t ready anyway. The magneto’s needed to come
off and the fuel pump. We looked at what was needed and what tools would be
needed as Benni had none and returned.
Gummy was away. He was always there. He
was practising again to be the entertainment at a big important fly-in hosted
by the Captains old and present of Atlantic Airways 757 fleet at their private
holiday retreat airfield near Eyjafjalla-Jokul. There is a bass guitar hanging
up on the wall and a guitar either side of the sofa and people come in plug
them in and strum for pleasure. But now Gummy was playing bass, Darty - a young
Cessna 170 pilot was lead vocals and guitar and Artley a young Focker 50 pilot
on keyboards and Kristion a good friend and instructor at the club, who had
helped me a lot, bashing the drums. The party, not to be missed, is at
Hurka-dalsh-melar how I pronounced it but spelt Haukadelsmel. But I am going to
miss it. The weather looks good tomorrow and I have to go. I can’t fly to Greenland on Sunday as
all airfields in Greenland are closed on Sunday and Monday looks like Iceland will be blown further north in the Atlantic . The next
chance would be Tuesday and that’s too late, I’ll never get to Oshkosh before it’s
over. It starts Monday anyway. I’ve watched these guys practising for weeks
now, everyone here is flying to the party and I will miss it. If I don’t, if I
go, I’ll miss Oshkosh .
Thought for the day: Life is so bloody
unfair… Oh well.
Day 35. 26/July/2014 The slipper fits. Reykjavik to Haukadalsmel 0:44hrs
Day score 10.
I borrowed Gummy’s son’s pushbike to
head for BIRK flight services where I’m going to file my flight plan. The
weather is good here, but foggy in Kulusuk, but it should lift. Johann, a
member of Geirfugl is working behind the desk, he phones his boss and makes
sure that my fees are waved. Wow. Thanks… A French guy with his wife in a Piper
Arrow is also going to Kulusuk, leaving in about an hour as well. There is a
customs officer trying to deal with executive families with their kids flying
in Gulfstream 5 and 6’s to New-York and totally unorganised, because they have
too much cash on them to be transferred, so they are having to leave some
behind? It’s all a bit busy but my flight plan is filed for midday . It’s as late as I dare. I want to see if the fog lifts before
setting off. The French guy is IFR equipped to fly in poor weather but not even
he can land in fog and get it wrong at Kulusuk and its game over as the terrain
is formidable. I ask him about survival gear. He has flown from France , just to go to Kulusuk for the day and then fly back and he and
his wife have no survival gear. So if their engine stops, they are dead and
never to be heard of again as the plane will sink. I hope Kulusuk is worth it?
Johann roles his eyes…
I ride back to Geirfugl to wait. I meet
Gummy and his wife and kids, they are packing to drive their trailer tent and
stage equipment to Hurka-dalsh-meler to set up the stage for tonight’s party.
We shake hands and I thank him wholeheartedly in-case I leave today, but I tell
him I’ll see him later.
I run over the pushbike, with my tools,
fixing the gears and brakes while waiting for the latest weather. Bjarki has
given me his Air Iceland company frequency so I can call them up on the radio
in the air and talk to him directly or whoever is flying that route, as they
approach Kulusuk to get the exact weather from an approach point of view. It’s
now midday . I phone up Johann and ask him to push back my flight plan
another hour. I walk up to the Air Iceland terminal at the airport and ask if they can call the aircraft
radio and ask for the weather at Kulusuk. I’m told that they have only just
left. But they should have left 2 hours ago. I’m told, yes but they were
delayed because the weather was too poor even for them this morning. Wow…
I ride back over to BIRK, working up a
sweat in the heat of the day, to confirm my worst fears and cancel my flight
plan. As I arrive, there is a guy on the phone for me? His name is Jacob and he
is the controller at Kulusuk. He has seen my VFR flight plan and is telling me
not to come. The fog has cleared a little, but in his experience it doesn’t
feel good and is very likely to return. It’s not a good day…
I start to cry. I couldn’t stop myself,
I mean it’s only a little tear, but that news means I can kiss goodbye to Oshkosh . The weather
here is rubbish next week…
Without barking on about things for a
long long time, I could not express in words what this journey and Oshkosh is doing to
me. And now after all I’ve gone through, it’s gone. My hopes and dreams have
gone… So unfair… Its not supposed to be this way… Jacob continues on the phone
that, “The weather is better tomorrow, best you come then!” “Sorry? Can you say
that again?” “Come tomorrow, we are open 12.00 till 17.00 local”. “Jacob, I
thought all airfields are closed on Sunday in Greenland ?” Johann looks
at me bemused when I said that, he nods that too. Jacob says, “No, there is a
special NOTAM out that Kulusuk is open for four Sundays this season starting
last week. The rest are still closed. Look at the NOTAMS.” I’m in shock… The
weather is better tomorrow and once in Greenland it looks quite
good even though it goes wrong here. If I get to Kulusuk tomorrow, stay
overnight, the next day is Monday and the rest of the airfields are open again
and I could still get to Oshkosh . And if I get my skates on, I can get Itzy all stripped out to
go to the party tonight. I thank Jacob and put down the phone. Johann has
already printed off the NOTAM and it is there in black and white. He didn’t
even know and said he has been telling people like the French guy that they are
closed on Sunday. I dry my tears and excuse myself and cycle back to Geirfugl.
Ok, other pilots are setting off at 6pm. Dam Gummy is still here. I was going to surprise him tonight,
but I tell him the news and he sets about sorting out empty drums for fuel. The
problem I have now is that Hurka-Dalsh-Meler is very short. 600 meters of
grass. Unlike most of the other aircraft here, Itzy needs all those 600 meters
with nothing on board. But at the moment it is full of all my gear and has 6:30 hours of fuel on board. I need to strip it all out completely
again and take 4:30 hours of fuel off.
Even if I go or not tomorrow, I’m going
to this party and I set about stripping Itzy out with renewed vigour. There is
a work team led by Joel working on Benni’s engine having a rest in the club
house, so I know at least that is in good hands. I know Benni built the plane,
but at his age he looked like he needed a hand to refit the engine. I said I
would help if I was not busy, but I sort of am. Joel will have it covered
anyway.
Ok, plane done, now I need to go into
town and get some more food, money for the food tonight and something to drink.
Oh, and a 66North woolly hat. I had my eye on one in the clubhouse. It seems to
have been left there, I was going to take it as a souvenir, but I can’t take
anything from this club, they have been so kind, I’ll go and bye my own and
I’ll buy one of Geirfugl’s DVD ’s of some of their members flying, its got Benni’s Model 12 on
the front cover amongst others.
I set off into town. It’s a beautiful day,
the best so far, with sun and blue skies. There is a wedding and people sitting
around in the many parks of the town. The city is packed actually. I get money,
have one of the famed hot dogs from the world renowned harbour hot dog stand. I
have it full Icelandic style, crispy onions ketchup and mustard. There are
photo’s of all the famous people who have had a hot dog from here. Look, there
is Bill Clinton. I go and buy my 66North woolly hat. The locals won’t buy from
there anymore. They said its was good gear but now they have gone too trendy… I
go to the Bonus store for food and cider. Food is ok, but no beer? I try a few
different stores. Its 6pm , people will be leaving. I
grab some stuff, not sure but it will be better than walking around empty handed.
Back at the airfield there are only two
planes left, they have been waiting for me. A few photos with Darty, Artle and
his dad and a few other friends and we taxi out. The only bad feeling is that
Thurther is left behind as there is no room. I wish I could have taken him with
me, but we would have been too heavy for Itzy’s little wings. He understood and
was not that fussed, but still. He had done so much for me, it was a shame I
could not do something in return.
There was discussion of a formation flypast
at Hurka-Dalsh-Meler. The Cessna 170 with Darty in front, Kristion’s and his
Dad’s RV4 to the left with me on the
right. Then it all goes quiet and they set off across active runways. I follow.
Then they line up on runway 25 and I follow them out and then they take off and
I chaise after them! “Ergh, guys, were we not supposed to have asked permission
to do that or do these guys just do what they like? Hang on now they are
decending and this is not the right way. Hang on? I’m still on the ground frequency,
I change to tower to hear Darty explaining to change to 123.45 to chat. I go
there. “OK Colin, we are going to practice the formation flypast by beating up
this airfield at the end of the fjord. We are still overflying houses in Reykjavik , but ok. I close in,its looking good. The runway starts on the
beach and is at sea level, the other two guys are a few feet off the water but
I have seagulls flapping for their life under me… “Looks good!” was the review.
I don’t think we got more than 50ft above the fields for the next 20 minutes
until Darty radioed, “Colin, watch out for the power lines!” A really black
looking Volcano approached and a cliff face. The RV4 shot off left, I went left
to keep the Cessna ahead of me as it slowed as it climbed to clear the ridge.
We all cleared it by feet. WOW!!!! That’s it, that’s the place I wanted to get
closer to in the POS , but the road ended. That’s the newest cinder cone, there, just
there… Amazing, and look there, just there, the fuel cap of the POS on top of the pumps
at the garage where I watched the world cup final. Pingvellir and the fault
line of the tectonic plates. Low across the lake, they other fault line,
Eyjafjalla-Jokul ahead, resplendent. I’d not seen it before as it had always
been covered in cloud.
“OK, Colin, close in the field is 5
miles just to the left of the little ridge. We will stay in formation loop
around to the left, beat up again and then split at the end.” “OK with me.” We
closed in, over the flat flood plain aiming at the gathering of planes and the
hangar, 130knots, low down the runway. Hang on, it was Ok for them, but I was
lined up with the windsock, so I had to stay slightly higher but as we came
around for the other runway, it was all clear, I was slightly behind but we
broke nicely on the pull up. I stayed to watch them land fist and I copied
there approach. I used 550 meters of the available 600 before turning and
taxing back in.
Everyone came around and asked how I
enjoyed the flight. I had to explain that I wasn’t being nice because they are
my friends and have been so kind to me, but truly, that was one of the my best
flight ever in an aircraft… The freedom to do whatever you want, over that
scenery. In the UK , I would have lost my pilots licence for that flight.
There was some humour about ‘so would
they’, but we all headed for the barn. I bought my food ticket for the lamb
roast buffet and open one of my drinks, It was a famous kids beer, non
alcoholic and was the cause of much humour through out the night. You can only
by alcoholic from the government stores. I didn’t know… I was introduced to the
sheriff for the night or the Chairmen of the club and in a little speech he
introduced his foreign guests. There were about 200 in all. More during the
day. The area was beautiful with a stream running by a little ridge. All the
retired airline captain had summer houses here sprinkled around and the massive
wooden hangar was thermally heated and for their recreational planes. I sat
with Gummy’s wife at the Geirfugl tables for the food, which was delicious.
After more speeches the band fired up. I don’t know all the songs except for
hearing them in rehearsal but they almost all meant a lot to the Icelandic folk
as everyone joined singing along. What
an atmosphere. It was great for Darty Artle and Kristion to impress in front of
the other heads of Atlantic Airlines and Air Iceland and at the end of the
music, the chairmen was moved to tears of joy and thanks for the music. He was
quite drunk though. The chat continued on, always in English if I was in
earshot. They are all so polite. At about 2am people drifted off. Darty and
Artle had there own summer cottage at another airstrip near by so I said
goodbye to them and they took of into the morning light. I said goodnight and
good bye again to Gummy, he said I would see him tomorrow. Maybe this is what
was needed to break Ground Hog day.
I didn’t want to put the tent up and
then have to pack it away wet again with morning due, so I bedded down in the
kiddies play marquee.
Thought for the day: Tears of sadness to
tears of joy. This is all a little too much actually in my fragile state. My
poor brain is fried.
Day 36. 27/July/2014 No title is
fitting. Haukadalsmel to Reykjavik 0:51hrs
Day score 10.
Oh, I’ve a lot to do today, like get to Greenland . I was just
thinking that not long ago I was whinging on about how unfair life was. Now I’d
been to the party, do I get to eat my cake and keep it by getting to Kulusuk
today?
Earlier morning, you could see for
miles. A few photos then jump in. There was another runway that was slightly
longer than the one I landed on. It didn’t have an volcanic ash bank at the end
of it either. I took off easily within half the runway but with only an hour of
fuel on board, I looped back around and flew low over the tent park. Bye Gummy
and family and friends.
I had been told to fly towards
Eyjafjalla-Jokul, the cinder cones and colours were supposed to be fantastic,
and they were right. But with limited fuel I head back. At Pingvellir I took
example of last nights flight and turned to fly low down the fault line, such
fun but not really the fuel left to do that and headed back for Reykjavik.
The approach was ‘VFR route 2’ via the
Fertilizer Factory and for runway 19. I’ve not done this route before and it
takes you over the port and town before landing, I mean really low and I took
photos up at the cathedral spire on top of the hill above the town on the
approach, before concentrating on touch down.
Back at Geirfugl I couldn’t get in. It
was all locked up. Not desperate yet but I lost an hour before one of the
pilots turned up with a key. I used the hour to walk around to BIRK handling
where Johann welcomed me and I filed my flight plan again for about the fifth
time. Johann gave me a lift back over across the runways to Geirfugl and wanted
to know how successful Gummy’s band was last night. He stayed for a while as I
loaded up the plane once more and siphoned the fuel back into the tanks from
the barrels I had used last night. With the plane all ready, I topped up with
another 38 litres of fuel in the main tank. I had 140 litres on board or enough
fuel for 7 hours of flight.
With everything ready, I said a fond
farewell to Geirfugl, is this me breaking Ground Hog day? The weather tomorrow
looked awful.
I taxied over to BIRK with the plane.
Johann had printed out the latest weather. The French couple did land there
yesterday, stayed an hour and then came back? I was running out of reasons not
to go. Johann came out and we took each others photos by the plane. I put on
all my survival gear, shook his hand and thanked him again as once more, there
was nothing to pay and I think it is quite a lot.
I climbed in started up the engine and
was told by the ground frequency to taxi out and hold short of runway 31. My
heading to Kulusuk was about 31 and after correctly changing to the tower
frequency I was cleared to line up and take off.
Wow, Itzy was heavy. Climb rate of only
600ft per minute and then less as I turned the climb into a cruise climb to
keep the engine cool. The GPS said 452 miles to go. I normally put on two GoPro Cameras and
film a lot, but not today. I just wanted to concentrate on ‘am I making the
right decisions?’
I was handed over to Keflavik control as I
pasted by their airfield. They were busy but let me fly through their departure
route. Somebody was getting a roasting as they requested a decent below cloud.
Apparently they had planned a VFR flight plan and shouldn’t have been above
cloud. But we have all been there, so I can’t say too much. I couldn’t climb more
than 4,000 ft due to cloud. Strangely for the first 40 minutes the North West Fjordland was quite close of the starboard wing until it passed
behind and out of sight. At FIR boundary I was wished ‘Good Luck’ by Keflavik and handed
over to Iceland Radio on 127.85. This frequency was where all the cross
Atlantic travelling commercial traffic communicated their wished to change
flight levels for clear air turbulence avoidance some 30,000 feet above. When
out of radio range I relayed position reports every 30 minutes with KLM 47, N65LJ and
Speedbird 47Alpha. As soon as I can I transfer all the fuel from the ferry tank
to the main tank. Failure of the pump or any reason why I couldn’t transfer the
fuel, I need to know about as soon as possible to make a decision. Two hours
into the flight and I still have a full main tank. It’s a good feeling.
Basically I just sit there, using the
fuel dipping stick for the reserve tank to push on the right pedal once in a
while to give my aching foot a rest. The plane needs more right thrust on the
engine, I didn’t have time to sort it out before I left, so I need to push
quite hard on the right ruder pedal all the time to keep the aircraft flying
straight. Or fit a rudder trim tab, which I haven’t done yet either.
That’s an iceberg… My first. Just
sitting there as a white dot amongst a view of blue. There isn’t much horizon.
It’s just all blue. Oh talking of horizons. I seemed to have fixed it, it seems
to be working perfectly again now. The engine is running too cool though. Oil
temperature of 70 when it should be 85 and cylinder head temperatures of 85
when they should be 125. On a hot day I can take the cylinders to 225, so they
are really cold. Still hot enough to burn you though. But its all relative.
What could I say? I could bore you with
how boring flying over the sea is. A ship, I can sea a ship and another
iceberg. Then another hour of nothing. Still cloud above and still at 4,000ft.
I would like to go higher but I can’t. Relaying your position report is not
easy. The airline pilots don’t obviously do it that often and struggle to
understand or hear what you are telling them, but its good to talk to someone
to know there is still life out there.
Oh heck. Fog banks. My worst fear. They
don’t look too big though and I think I can see over them. Now low cloud and
I’ll have to go over it. There is 80 miles to run, I’ve had a good 15knot tail
wind and I’m almost an hour now ahead of schedule. The fog clears, now why? Is
that a different air mass influenced by near by coast? Yes that’s land, that’s
snow and black rock on the horizon. I turn to Kulusuk radio and they can hear
me just about. The east coast of Greenland is pretty straight, with one kink in it half way down. The island of Kulusuk lies at that kink. So I can see the east coast when still 40
miles out. I head for it and then fly down the coast, thinking if the engine
cuts at least I won’t drown now.
An Air Iceland Focker 50 calls engine start up. Soon after he asks for taxi
clearance as I’m now 10 miles north east. I state that I will fly around to the
south and 5 miles off shore so the Focker can take off without me getting in
the way. The mountain next to the runway is 2,500 straight up, it’s an old
volcano so as yet I still haven’t seen the runway. What can I say? White ice,
blue-grey glaciers, blue-white water, black rock, little red, yellow, green and
blue painted huts and a rocky approach to a gravel strip. I see the runway as I
round the headland as the Focker is climbing away and I’m told the runway is
clear. This is Kulusuk radio, the controller does not have authority to issue
clearances, its all at the pilot’s discretion and I touch down onto the loose
gravel and bring Itzy to a slow halt. I turn around and taxi back in and pull
up into a strong wind in front of the airport.
Relieved, I’m in Greenland . I’d like to
say that was fun, but it was not. None of this over-water flying has been.
I shake hands with the guys who walk out
and see about refuelling the plane straight away. I only needed 50 litres of
fuel to refill the main tank and put 40 in the reserve tank. The next flight is
shorter so I estimate for 6 hours endurance for a 4 hour flight. The flight
time today was only 3:28 hours. It’s gone so well. I
wasn’t looking forward to this flight but it’s gone so well.
Something dripped of the bottom of the
cowls. It was oil! I can see it soaking into the gravel. I took a look under
the cowls. Lots of oil, all the way down to the back of the aircraft. What the
xxxx! I took the cowls off to find the oil cooler covered in oil. The oil
cooler had cracked at one of the two fittings. It could have only just
happened, loosing that much oil, there isn’t that much in the engine. At that
rate of loss, it would have emptied the sump in about 10 minutes. The engine
would then run out of oil and seize solid and that would have been the end of
the plane and probably me…
Shock hit again. For once I thought I’d
had an extremely good flight when really I’m lucky to be standing here wiping
oil off everything. I mean it’s unlucky that the cooler decided to crack after
780 hours of use, but lucky that it only just happened.
I’m really quite fed up with these types
of things happening to me.
There is nothing for it, I’ll have to
run the engine without the oil cooler. Its not needed now anyway as the air
temperature is too cold. It took about half an hour to remove the cooler, very
easy to remove the oil filter, remove the take off pipe fitting and refit the
oil filter and unbolt the cooler and drain the oil and put it into a bag. The
airfield and surrounding country rock is littered with rubbish and bags and I
grab a few to clear the place up, put the oily rags in and generally tidy up.
With Itzy ready to go again, I walk into the terminal building and climb the
stairs to the control tower and meet Jacob, the guy I had spoken to on the
phone yesterday. I can pay for all the fuel and fees tomorrow. He asks if I
want the van to pick me up to take me to the hotel. I already know the hotel
costs $350 a night for a naff room, so I say no and that I’ll pitch my tent.
This seems to piss him off a bit and he gives me the number of the hotel in
case I should change my mind.
So I grab Fredypig, my long term travel
companion and mascot and set off to walk to the town as such which is a 2 mile
walk.
Wow, the bleakness and abruptness of the
scenery and ice and rock and water and rubbish are outstanding…
I hold Fredy close. My poor brain is
even more fried.
I walked along a dusty track, the only
way to town and follow pipes and rusty cables and junk and litter. Past the
scruffy hotel and two cemeteries, a small glacier, and a pack of dogs before
arriving in town.
Town is dominated by the big oil tank
that’s keeping everyone from freezing. Small boats are running in-between the
floating icebergs in the bay between this Island and the
mainland. My goodness, this place is falling apart. One out of three building
is derelict. True Inuit looking people arrive in the boat. A 25 foot speed boat
with a hood and an outboard motor that could be parked up in a Miami marina. They
refuel it by dragging a 100 litre container of pink stuff, so heavy with two
people lifting it that the boat almost capsizes, till they can poor or spill
most of it into some tank, before putting back on the quayside. They then fit a
family or two onboard, gran, mother and children, pull back, turn around and
speed off.
They seem to burry people in what might
have been their back garden as there are white crosses everywhere. Another pack
of, argh they are huskies. And there is the sleigh. So it’s true, they still do
use sleigh dogs and skidoo’s and quadbikes!
If you looked at this place from afar,
you would think its idyllic, picture postcard sort of stuff. Look closely and
it’s buggered. People paid good money to come here for day trips from Iceland . I bet they all go back very disappointed. Not that they would
admit it after paying so much money for a few hours day trip. And they mostly
take rides on the speedboats through the icebergs to the glacier head to watch
it collapse in as you can hear it periodically doing. It is a site to see, but
the locals who waved merrily as if I was another tourist paying for their
existence paying $350 at the hotel, as if I was their best friend. Truth be
told, I wasn’t. You could easily clean the place up a bit as it wasn’t that big
a town. But talk about pollution and degradation. Also the RSPCA would have a
thing or two to say about the condition the dogs were not kept in, chained up
everywhere and half starving. I just kept walking around thinking “What a
shame”. I climbed to the highest point, past the only home with real money,
well he had the biggest satellite dish.
I could hear a helicopter approaching.
It was the bright red Icelandic search and rescue helicopter that Siggi flew.
He did say they were flying over here yesterday. They were helping an American
team of service men as they repatriated apparently the last of the military
pilots who crashed into the glacier during the war. The Americans have this
saying of “Never leave any behind!” So ever since the war ended they have been
trying to find all the crash sights and bring back the bodies. These were the
last of many apparently.
I’d read stories about aircraft just
flying into the ice on many occasions. It’s high and flat up there, but so
dazzling that you can’t make out any features, so you can’t tell how high you
are from it. There is just no depth perception. People think it is cloud and
just fly into it. I heard and saw pictures of a Piper Senica, a light twin. He
had been flying along on a ferry flight, heard a terrific noise and commotion
from underneath his aircraft and pulled up and it went quiet again. When he
landed, he found all his propeller blades were bent. He had unknowingly flown
so low to the ice that, without his undercarriage being down, the propeller
tips were the lowest thing sticking out the bottom of the plane and they had
been hitting the 10,500 foot icecap.
I waved but they didn’t see me. You
couldn’t walk where ever you wanted to in case you disturbed a pack of Huskies,
as people were and they all started barking all over town until their owners
ventured out of their wooden shacks and shouted at them to shut up I suppose in
Inuit.
So not really fitting in here, I
despondently walked back to the plane, got back in and went to sleep. It was
quite late and I was bushed and couldn’t be bothered to put the tent up. My KR2
is surprisingly comfortable if you lift the rudder pedals up out the way you
can stretch out and you can rest your head on the fuel tank. But sleep wasn’t
that easy as you kept hearing the booms of falling ice as some more fell off
the near by glacier and fell into the sea.
Thought for the day: I waited to get
here for so long and was disappointed that I’m now in a rush and need to go
through Greenland quite quickly and didn’t have the time I wanted to spend here.
I envisaged spending a week here and getting to know the locals as no one gets
here easily and I’ll doubt if I’ll come back this way again any time soon. Now
I’m here, I can’t wait to leave.
Day 37. 28/July/2014 What best flight?
Kulusuk to Narsarsuaq 431 miles 3:40 hrs
Day score 10.
I can’t deny, long summer sun or not,
with all the ice around, it wasn’t warm. As soon as the airport was open I went
in to warm up. In the control tower Jacob welcomed me and had prepared the
weather report. I only needed one piece of paper but got about 20 and then he
insisted I phoned the weather guy, who was the other side of the country to
tell me what I already knew. Poor Iceland , that was a lucky escape, but the deep weather depression over Iceland created a southerly wind here, which might help me quite a bit
today. There was a little occluded front 50 miles to the south of Narsarsuaq,
but it was allegedly not to get closer. I filed the flight plan, thanked Jacob
and set off to pay for the fuel and fees downstairs with Mittarfeqarfiit, the
company that runs Greenland ’s airports.
“That’s $459.50 sir.” “How much?”
“$459.50” I was sure he had made a mistake. I asked this little Inuit guy, “Erm
can I have a break down of the costs please?” He said “No you can not and pay
now quickly. I have other aircraft to see.” That’s the first time I think
anyone has been rude to me since I left England 37 days ago. “Well do I get a receipt?” The guy stormed off to
his back office and produced a piece of paper.
I paid on my credit card and walked back
to the plane. There were two “N” or American registered, gas turbine powered
Piper Malibu ’s just arriving. They had six French guys on board of each.
They were heading for Oshkosh . I spoke to them in French until they soon realised that there
English was a lot better than my French. There next stop was Iqaluit in Canada
and then Sault Se Marie in America to clear customs as there was no customs
clearance at Oshkosh. The place is just too busy with people and planes for
customs to want to traipse round. I wished them “Bon Voyage!” still.
I had a little money left over from
Vagar, it was Danish and would work here, so even though my flight plan take
off time was imminent, I rushed back to the arrivals lounge to buy some
postcards and I bought a little husky dog and polar bear key rings. A Focker 50
arrived with two female pilots on board. It was a shame Bjarki was not flying
this route today… The passengers were being escorted to the Hotel bus but since
it only held about 10, the other 20 passengers set off by foot like I did down
the dusty track and over the hills to the town. I hoped they would not be as
disappointed as I was. I wanted to have a quick look in the departure lounge
and the shop keeper let me through his shop instead of going through the
security gates. The reason for this is that a polar bear had ventured on to the
runway last year and they had shot it and the skin was hanging up on the
departure lounge wall. So it was. Why they had to kill it I don’t know but
still. There was a little bit about the history of Kulusuk airport and pictures
of operating in winter where they had piled the snow up 30 ft or 10 meters to
jeep the runway clear. There were pictures of aircraft taxing and taking off
from the runway with only the top of the fin visible. There was also a “Thank
you!” plaque and poster from the crew of ‘Glacier Girl’ a ‘38 Lightning’ twin
engined fighter from WW2. Six of them and a liberator were on transit to the UK during the war, but they got blown off course with bad weather
and ran out of fuel, so they all decided to land on the ice cap one after the
other. The pilots all survived and were rescued, but the planes got covered in
Ice and snow. They are worth a bit by now! So a few years ago, they were all
found 365 feet below the surface with radar. A crew melted there way down to
them but I believe only one aircraft was worthy of rescue and they took it
apart 360 feet below the surface and pulled it out. It got rebuilt and is flying
today and they called it “Glacier Girl”. Most American aircraft crew during the
war called their aircraft something and painted or decorated the nose of the
aircraft accordingly. Interesting, but it was time to go.
I jumped in Itzy and taxied down to the
far end of runway 29. This was up hill and into wind. Hum a slight headwind on
track was not good, but we would see. As I turned round, trying to get the base
camera to record through my phone’s wifi system, on the loose gravel I got
close to the runway end lights and clonk, I knocked one of them over a bit.
Dam. The plane felt ok. I wasn’t going to stop anyway. They could use the $500
I paid them to put it back up if needed.
I took off easily with the cold air
helping power from the engine and creating lift, and climbed out over the town.
Undeniably beautiful! That combination of colours and extreme rock formations.
But I had something else to look at. The rapidly rising oil temperature. I
didn’t think the oil cooler made much of a difference. I was wrong. I had to
throttle back and cruise climb. The cylinder heads were at 105 degrees Celsius,
but so was the oil.
A direct route took me out to sea, but I
was still high enough to glide back to shore. The best option would be to ditch
in a lake on top of some of the surrounding, not so vertical hills. I’d be soon
on dry land.
The ski was clear and the sun burning. I
covered my nose with a bit of white bodge tape, having no sun screen and my
white hat I use to keep my head cool under the canopy didn’t reach to prevent
the sun on my nose.
Again I say once more. This is and was
going to be the most beautiful flight I’d make. Watching the glaciers swirl
down, like melting soft whip ice-cream off a cone, following the curves they
cut into the mountainsides before breaking off into the sea. There was indeed
no way of ditching close to the shore due to the car sized icebergs covering
the shore line area. The bigger ones seemed to float away. You could see the
flow of water as it swirled around these gentle giants. They can weigh millions
of tonnes, so the flow of North Atlantic drift swirled fast around them and downstream as the icebergs
slowly accelerated up to speed and floated out to sea.
I wanted to turn and look all the time.
This flight was going too fast, yet I wanted it to be over because it’s just so
dangerous. The oil temp came down a little but I was now at 7,000ft and the
outside air temperature was minus 12. I also had the nausea feeling again.
Keeping flying Itzy straight and level when your head is spinning was not easy.
I’m not sure if it is the sensation of flying, the fumes from the fuel, being
dehydrated, being just ill, tiredness or the smell from the bodge tape glue
that’s stuck to my nose. Its not the lack of horizon as there is a clear one today.
Ice is white sky is blue. I forced myself to drink almost frozen water. It must
be cold in here, I have no heating, but I’m in my thermal layers inside my
immersion suit, so I’m relatively warm. The water helps a little.
My direct route took me on land now and
over the ice cap. Siggi had told me to do this. Apparently, at the southern tip
of Greenland there are two mountainous rocky areas that protrude through the
ice cap and can be seen many many miles away. If you fly between them, that is
the start of a major glacier that flows for about 40 miles but leads directly
to Narsarsuaq airfield. If you follow the coast around the bottom of the ice
cap, you then have to fly inland through the fjords to find the airfield and
many people had taken the wrong turning in the maze of valleys and disappeared.
I would do as Siggi suggested, but that required climbing to 8,000 ft. I’d
transferred all the fuel by now and still had 3 hours left, with only 180 miles
to go.
Picking out how high you were is not
easy. Trying to look at the most crazed part of the ice for some type of visual
reference, its whizzing past the wing quite quickly. But how high is that. It
could be 5,000ft it could be 500ft. No wonder people crash. I thought it best
to climb to 9,000ft. Better safe than sorry. But that’s not ice down there
anymore. That looks like mist, then fog and then cloud with little cumulous
tops. Well I’m several thousand feet above the cloud, so lets continue on and
hope the cloud brakes before Narsarsuaq.
There are more than just two sets of
rocky outcrops. The GPS is telling me the way. The compass is all but useless being
this close to the North Pole without me realigning it. It still thinks it’s in Britain .
Only 50 miles away now. Nothing has been
heard or said on the radio for a while since I relayed my last estimate for
Narsarsuaq at 16.45 zulu or GMT via N3RD.
The cloud ends, the cloud definitely
ends. Even if I have to go out to sea, descend and come back in under it, the
cloud definitely ends.
I call up Narsarsuaq radio and he
responds loud and clear. I fly between the two outcrops of rock and I can see
the airport, through gaps in the cloud I can see the airport and the glacier
running down to it. Now only 20 miles away and I’m still at 9,000ft with a cold
engine, if I power back and descend to quickly I’m going to super chill the
engine and it won’t like that. Narsarsuaq radio call, “Golf Bravo Yankee Lima Pappa, the
runway is clear, you are free to land at your discretion.” But it’s going to
take me 15 minutes to come down slowly from this height. I tell them that I’m
going to stay 10 minutes to the north, just to recalibrate an engine control.
This confuses them and they don’t object.
I drop down below the clouds with the
glacier valley below. I then descend in the valley itself, it is so wide,
looking up at vertical black rock with the glacier still thousands of feet
below. At 2,000 feet I start my approach, the engine is no cooler but no warmer
either. I have to side slip and drop still further to get on the correct glide
slope but call 2 miles finals and get the runway clear message again back.
I flare to touch down, but there is
quite a slope down towards the sea on their 25 runway and it takes me half the
massive 1.2 mile 1,800 meter runway to bring Itzy to a halt. A short back taxi
and I exit at Bravo to pull up next to a Cessna Citation or Mustang, the only
other aircraft being an amphibian little flying boat.
I shutdown the engine as the refuelling
guys turn up. Its only a 3 hour flight back up to the capital of Nuuk where I
would like to stay tonight, so I only top up the main tank with 42 litres of
fuel. I have a look at around the aircraft to see if I damaged it when running
over the light at Kulusuk. Oh yeah, it hit the wheel spat and marked the aileron,
but nothing much.
Helicopters arrive, Bell 242’s I think
of Air Greenland , with the two blades whopping and chopping at the air loudly.
They are American and date back to the Korean war. I’m sure these don’t but as
they land and their blades come to a halt, all sorts of people jump out from
the sliding doors. Business men, back packers, Inuit family. Its how they get
to the near by villages that don’t have runways, and they are busy, as new
passengers climb on board and they wind back up and depart pronto.
An Air Greenland Dash 8 turns
up in the same red and white livery as the helicopters. Loads of people jump
off that and again, every type of person.
I head in to the control tower. On the
second set of doors is a famous sight. The doors are plastered, without room
for any more stickers of all the aircraft that have been through Narsarsuaq. It
is the main stop off for Trans Atlantic Flight of virtually all small aircraft
and quite a few large ones too. If I had
a sticker saying KR2 Worldtour, I’d have found some space. Coventry Atlantic
Group sticker is there, next to the Ratheon sticker and some Air Squadron from
where I have no idea.
The stickers and business cards continue
up the stairs to above the office desks. I ask if I can pay for the fuel now
and it is agreed. Fuel with landing costs, $420.38. Wow… I ask again if this is
correct and the lady produces very politely the data sheet of charges and
indeed it is all correct.
I rise to the tower and meet Hens,
Kesper, Alex and a well spoken Semion.
I group of joggers goes by the one and
only road in town past the airport. Apparently the king and queen arrive here
tomorrow. Their royal yacht and accompanying naval frigate are in the harbour
and that is the ships crew trying to keep fit. Some of them had failed
seemingly.
Because the airfields close so early in Greenland , then there
was no chance of arriving in time in Nuuk, so here I would stay. Ok, not so
good, but it could not be helped.
I walk back down to the plane and start
checking things over. It is quite warm and pleasant and I strip to a smelly
T’shirt for the first time in months. Taking the cowls off, wow… The engine has
breathed a lot of oil into the collector bottle. What is in there is indicative
of normally 20 hours of flight. That was only 3. I put it back in the engine,
its good oil, it’s just been breathed out. Then I wish I hadn’t as a lot of
water has collected in the bottom and pours in to the engine filler as well...
An old long grey haired guy walks out
towards me. I wave and say high. He explains that he has to move his amphibian
aircraft as apparently it’s in the way. I tell him it’s not in my way and he
barks on about how ridiculous things are getting here. This seems interesting
and I ask some more. The guy is from South Africa , lived in England , came up here, loved the freedom and stayed. Yet his says the
freedom is no longer here and that the bureaucrats are invading with their
stupid rules. I try to appease him by explaining that it’s the same everywhere.
He agrees, but it still miff’s him. I ask if he need a hand, but he says he’s
ok. Not long after the Amphibian fires up and taxies around to the back of the
Air Greenland hangar. He walked back and we continued the banter of two
clever chaps who have seen a bit of the world. His phone rings and he answers
it. He tells me that there is a phone call for me upstairs. I tell him it can’t
be important. It can only be for something I have done wrong, so it can wait.
We chat for another 10 mins having a laugh until his phone rings again and he
tells me, you better go and ring this number. We walk inside, shake hands and
he disappears.
Back in the offices I am led to a phone.
Maybe I climbed into controlled airspace as I did climb to 9,500ft, but it is
explained that controlled airspace doesn’t start till 19,500 feet, 10,000ft
higher in Greenland . Ok, it wasn’t that then. I dial the number and it is Jacob on
the phone. He explains that they notice that one of the runway end lights has
been knocked down, but his voice seems even weirder, as if that’s not the
issue. I thought I’d say I didn’t notice anything. He then said “Look Colin,
you were rude to the gentleman who you needed to pay. We don’t like your
attitude!” I interrupted him and told Jacob that he had been very short with me
when I enquired about the price. Jacob replied that this was not his version of
events. I replied “Well it wouldn’t be would it!” Jacob then said “Colin, we
are telling you that we don’t like you and you are not welcome here again!”
Wow! I thought I would apologise for my behaviour, not that I thought I needed
to and just for the sake of it and with little else coming back, I said
“Goodbye.” and put the phone down. How weird?
I walked out through the arrivals lounge
about 4pm local and grabbed a map of the town. I walk along to the Narsarsuaq Museum . I look at the daunting closed state of the wooden huts, but
people pass by and go in, so I join them. They walk down a wooden hallway, but
past the museum entrance. It was so many Kronna, $5 USD or €4 to enter. I have
$5 and place it in a box and rip off a ticket.
Is this going to be worth it I wonder
and yes it is! The displays show ancient history of who was here first but then
soon enters into the airports history. It was set up by us Brits again for the
war effort but soon the American’s turned up and turned it into a huge air
force base. At one point, waiting for weather they had over 120 aircraft parked
up outside waiting to go and help with the repatriation of Europe. There are
countless photos of the war effort. The first year what they had built got
blown away in a storm, so when they returned they returned with vigour and
built up some impressive facilities. The director came to close up but said I
could stay a little longer, I asked if that would be ok, because it was my only
chance to take it all in.
Ok, next down the road to the harbour. I
had put my running shoes on, just to get out of my boots for a change and
jogged down to the generating station. How ever well silenced it was, it just
stood there in a converted military workshop, thumping away. The icebergs in
the bay were impressive, there was one which had almost split in two and as the
sun reflected between the two halves on the water, it was very photogenic.
The naval frigate was manoeuvring out in
the bay and its Lynx helicopter kept buzzing around it. Some of the guys of the
royal yacht were enjoying some fishing and you could get close to the yacht in
the tiny quayside or harbour. It impressed me that the whole airport and
facilities had been brought in once upon a time through this one and only war
time quay.
That was one end of town now back to the
other. Past massive tanks with Jet A1, Avgas and Heavy Oil written on them. Top
end of town sort of fizzles out so I decided to climb the adjoining hillside.
It’s about 800ft high and the buzzards had been soaring it earlier in the day.
The path around the back fizzled out to, but I made it to the old radio station
on top then eventually worked to get close at the top to the near vertical face
and I can look down on Itzy. To the left is the naval ship still going around
and around the icebergs, the runway and old dispersal areas, now much more
understood from the museum photos ahead and to the right the valley with the
glacier winding or sliding, more correctly, down it.
I run back down and come out near the
airport. I go back to Itzy to prepare him for tomorrow. Locals keep turning up
to take pictures through the fence and tourist walk aimlessly up and down the
road as there is nothing else to do or see.
I was actually quite comfortable last
night and just decide to sleep in the plane once more. It just saves a lot of
hassle.
Thought for the day: That’s really
annoyed me that call from Jacob. Obviously they are so desperate to exist there
and need the money. I come through not, wanting to pay extortionate rates for a
hotel or for none existent handling. The fuel price was much higher than
normal. That was the first time anyone has been short with me and I get told
off for it… Ok, I’ve done some maths. The fuel was £3.25 a litre instead of
£2.00 at home. Handling was £94.60, parking overnight £16.40 and a departure
fee of £32.30… So I suppose the prices are not that extortionate and it’s
consistent at all the airfields in Greenland . So maybe I was rude to ask for this break down of the costs,
but still. What a lame threat! “Colin you are not welcome here again!” Why the
hell would anyone want to return???
Day 38. 29/July/2014 More hot water? Narsaruaq to Nuuk 319 miles
3:09 hrs
All I want is one
good flight! Nuuk to Iqaluit 477 miles 4:30 hrs
A flight too far!
Iqaluit to Iqaluit 0
miles 0:44 hrs
Day score 10.
The sun woke me. A long way to go today.
I walked into the terminal building but only the cleaners were here. The
airport was supposed to open at 7am local, but people don’t turn up till about 8am . This has given me good time to study maps and charts that
countless ferry pilots and global travellers have looked over. This is like
history. Not many people have been here and done this. I’ve not had any
aviation maps of Greenland, just printed a few things off while at Geirfugl,
but maps are quite useless here really, there are no roads or towns and the
depiction of the glaciers on their actual maps is poor.
Semion turns up and he has a go at
filing my flight plan and getting the weather. Its not his job but he says the
office staff were pretty bad at time keeping and might not turn up for another
hour. He advises to route via Paamuit, a town with an airfield about 80 miles
up the coast and Frederikshaab 130 miles up the coast. I agree and it’s placed
on the flight plan that he files. With this I thank him and walk out to the
plane.
I fire up Itzy but close down again when
two helicopters approach and I know where they will land is close to where I’m
going to taxi. With the helicopter both winding down, I fire up Itzy and back
track a clear 25 runway. Take off is swift down hill and I climb out straight
ahead, over the ridge on the far side of the bay and down a 50 mile fjord
towards the open sea. This wasn’t really on route but not wanting to overheat
the oil I had to climb slowly and eventually climb above the fjord walls and
then turn north sort of on track.
I was supposed to change to Sonderstrom
control but no one could raise it and there were a lot of pilots thinking their
radios were unserviceable and calling Narsarsuaq to check. Narsarsuaq confirmed
that there had been a major systems failure further north and there were a lot
of communications down. Brill! The GPS was saying 5:30 hours still and I only put 4 hours of fuel on board. I kept
climbing and turning around the main glacier and fjords and as I turned to
actually head straight for Nuuk, the GPS came down to 3:10 hours. Ok. I was still climbing so when I went into cruise mode
I would gain another 10 knots and shave another half an hour of that time. Hum
a lot of low cloud and fog out there as the cool air came off the glacier and
interacted with the cool but I suppose relatively warm air around the coast.
I kept calling back to Narsarsuaq every
15 minutes until I was closer to Paamiut than Narsarsuaq and said goodbye to
Semion and called Paamuit. They knew of the communications fault and I stayed
with them till about 80 miles north of their airfield.
Hum, the glacier no spills down to what
looked like a sandy beach. I could land on the beach I suppose now. I’m not
going to keep repeating how stunning the view was out the window as I flew
through mountain passes as high as Itzy before the ground lowered and levelled
off approaching Nuuk.
Only 40 miles out I could hear Nuuk but
they couldn’t hear me. The airfield was on the other side of a mountain range
again though, and I wasn’t too worried. In clear contact 25 miles out and
having learnt my lesson of not descending early enough, this time I was down at
approach height early and applying power which kept the engine warm. Nuuk
airfield is built on the side of a hill with each end of the runway extended by
building it on a man made headland that rises straight out the sea. You
wouldn’t want to be too low on approach or too high as I was because it’s quite
short.
I was cleared to land and dropped in.
What an approach though. I back tracked the runway and taxied in as two Dash
8’s were running up and wanting to come out. I went and hid Itzy by the corner
nearest the terminal so they could taxi past.
There is a maintenance base at Nuuk for
Air Greenland and you could see workers downing tools and heading out to take
a look at the plane. Nothing like Itzy had ever been to Nuuk before. The
mosquitoes were bad.
Spitting them and whipping them from
eye, ear and mouth I got Itzy refuelled. I put 100 litres on board enough for 7
hours of flight with what was left.
To escape the mosquitoes everyone
departed after photos were taken and I headed up to the control tower. Inside
the terminal there was a little kiosk, just closing up. I bought two bottles of
coke and one of each type of chocolate bar she had. Not able to carry
everything I hid the drinks behind a sign.
Up in the control tower I filed the
flight plan and paid the fees. $679.40 or £454.00. Ouch… I can’t keep affording
that. I hope its cheaper in Canada if or when I get there. The weather was fine on route, really
fine as in nothing. Not a cloud between here and Iqaluit. Wow…
There was a problem filing the flight
plan. They had to phone it through as the computer system communications was
down still. Ok, well there was nothing for it but to pick up my bottles of
coke, get in and go. I’m not advertising or doing product placement there, it
was just the best thing they had for staying awake. I’m shattered and I might
need the caffeine to keep me going later. I did check the oil level and put in
another half litres or so.
I lined up on their 05 runway and took
off. This was good news as that meant a tail wind, but there was hardly and
wind at all.
This is the flight I admit to dreading
the most. 477 miles of the coldest water, not much with respect to search
helicopters and the coldest water, it was about 2 degrees Celsius.
If the engine quit on this flight in the
middle of the water, I was in trouble. How did I prepare for it? Head in the
sand, because I think if you really stopped and thought about it, you wouldn’t
go.
The GPS said 510 miles
by the time I turned around and headed out to sea. What was the technique here,
to push the engine hard while the oil was cold, to try and climb to a cooler
air mass and then throttle back or just steadily climb and watch the temps
rise. I had got fed up of watching the warning light come on so I raised the
alert figure higher. I could see it was hot, I didn’t need a flashing red light
telling me…
Before the radio went out of range I
asked Nuuk, “You have started my flight plan haven’t you and you have informed
Iqaluit that I’m coming?” They said “Yes!”, even though they had to phone
Sonderstrom and sonderstrom had phoned Iqaluit. I wanted to make sure the Canadians
knew I was coming and by when. This was in case I didn’t turn up on time, then
they may come and look for me? Or at least the Canadians would. Its strange how
the radio just drops out quite suddenly. One minute they can hear you, five
minutes later and gone…
At 105 miles out I could change to
Gandar Oceanic CTA Control Area or FIR
Flight Information Region. It didn’t matter where I was, I couldn’t get anyone
on the radio…
I would be very bored if I wasn’t so
terrified, listening to every different harmonic or note in the engine. Moving
from one bum cheek to the next to make sure I didn’t get a blood clot. Also
using the extra tank dipstick as a pushrod to allow my right foot a rest once
in a while. I plugged in my phone to the audio input jack of the intercom. I
could now play music in my headphones. It was very helpful to listen to music
instead of the engine all the time. If the engine was going to stop, it was
going to stop. There was nothing I could do about it but monitor temperatures
and pressures anyway. So the music really helped.
All the fuel was in the main tank by
half way. It gave me something to do. At half way 255 miles to go, the GPS moving map
didn’t have any land. It just said Baffin Bay . I drank the coke every time I yawned. There was nothing out
there, just sea. I never saw a ship, I couldn’t raise anyone on any frequency
that I had for Gander or Montreal FIR or Canadian Northern Control. I just sat there bricking
myself. Imagining and running through emergency procedures. I had my life
insurance around my neck in the form of a personal locator beacon. I had
another and a spare radio in water tight bags in the bag where all my teddy
bears had been since leaving Iceland . There they had to stay, if I was fished out the water I would
bring the bag with me. I would refuse to eave without it or them. I had stored
all the photos and diary and logger files on the stand alone remote dick which
now sat in my hoody pocket inside my immersion suit. The laptop was not in a
water tight bag and would be ruined by sea water loosing everything I had. Your
life is on a disk now… Mine was on two.
100 miles out and the radio springs into
life. It’s a Canadian voice… They can’t hear me but it’s good to hear a voice.
Hum. I might not drown now. They have helicopters that can get out here… 80
miles. Iqaluit is 50 miles in land, so the coast may come out the gloom soon.
I’m 8,000 feet up. I could almost glide to the coast. The cylinder heads are
being warmed by the oil and the oil cooled by the cylinder heads. Not the way
around it should be, but all is stable at 95 degrees Celsius.
There is the coast, there it is, there
out the gloom and quite close. Oh I could definitely glide there. The radio is
clear now and I call Iqaluit. “Iqaluit G-BYLP 50 miles east flight level 80
inbound estimating 20.45 zulu!” “Aircraft calling say you registration again?”
I always get that… “Golf Bravo Yankee Lima Papa.” No one
can ever work out it’s a British plane. “OK, Golf Papa Lima, what is your
aircraft type?” They should know that, it’s on the flight plan. My heart sank…
What I thought was going to be my best flight. The one I feared that had gone
so well, I’d made it I was on decent with 40 miles to go and they haven’t got
my flight plan. “OK Bravo Papa, we’re just looking for your flight plan.” No
need guys, they never sent it… “You might like checking under VFR flights.
Sometimes they get missed?” I replied in hope, but I know what has happened.
I’ve paid several hundred dollars for someone in Greenland not to do his
job. Even though I asked them and they said they had… Well I’m not going back
but, they whole idea of the flight plan is safety. I’ve just done one of the
most dangerous sea crossings because of the temperature and exposure, and they
never knew I was coming. I can’t express how sad I felt, tearful again
actually. Why does nothing ever go well? Why?
There was Iqaluit, a big airbase looming
into view. I was lining up for a left base for runway 16. An American Airforce
Hercules C140 lined up on runway 34 to take off. I pre-empted the call I know
they were going to make and said I would extend my down wind leg. The Herky
Bird was cleared take off. Mean time a Dash 8 was on a 10 mile instrument
approach. Gees guys!!! Iqaluit Tower asked how long before I could be on the ground? “1 minute” I
called. “Ok expedite that then please Lima Papa,” and I shot towards the end of
the runway. “Lima Papa cleared to land runway 16, just be aware of turbulence
from the departing aircraft!” “Roooooger that!” as I flew through it and
touched down landing long so as not to be taxing too long with the commercial
traffic rapidly approaching. I came off at Charlie and they said to pull up by
the pumps to my right and wait for customs. “Tower did you find my flight
plan?” “No sir we did not!” “Thanks.”
Well I’m in Canada but without customs clearance or prior notification, for how
long? The Customs car pulled up. A guy and a lady. It was the lady who was not
impressed. What can I say, I waffled on explaining what had happened and how much
I had just paid the guys in Nuuk not to do there job when they said they had.
The fact that I was more annoyed that I had just come across 4 hours of
treacherous water and no one knew I was coming I tried to overwhelm the
importance of customs and immigration. I was supposed to give two hours notice
of arrival. She threatened that this was a serious matter and they could
impound the plane… No don’t do that, I thought, or I’ll never make Oshkosh . I showed them
the receipt for the $679.40 from Nuuk. They took my passport and went to sit in
their car.
Ten minutes later they returned. She
stated that even though this was a serious matter, there were mitigating
circumstance and they had decided to be lenient this time. She gave me a
pamphlet on how to correctly enter Canada in case I returned. She handed back my passport with a customs
stamp in it and whished me good day. The guy had not said a word.
I turned the radio back on and asked the
tower about the fuel. They had ascertained that there was none, but the FBO
(Flight Base Operator) had some and I could taxi straight ahead, back past the
tower and it was down there on the right, I couldn’t miss it as it had FBO in
big red writing and so it had. I pulled in and walked into their plush
operation. First thoughts were, “This is going to cost”
I was met by a lady called Inder and I
believe it was Garth but his name I can not for the life of me remember, I
wrote their names down and then forgot where I wrote them. Anyway very nice
they were, but strangely neither were pilots. I got out my immersion suit and
chatted for a while. They had Avgas but it would cost $1,100.00 Canadian
dollars per barrel. Ouch! I could run on motor gasoline. Simple and Garth
called one of the summer helping pilots who worked there as part of a college
course, to take me with some containers, to get some fuel. I think his name was
Mitch. Like I said, his flight training was through a college and to qualify
for the grant he had to do a summer job working on an airfield and Iqaluit turned
up for him, The fuel, 80 litres cost $100 Canadian dollars, cheap and the FBO
charged $100 dollars a day for 1 minutes help to 24 hours. 24 hours and 1
minute would cost $200. With the fuel saving, this was Ok…
Back with Itzy they said they could not
be seen to help as it was not really legal but I could do what I wanted with my
own plane. Ok, that’s fuel. Now where next?
Mitch helped me sort out a flight plan
to go to Kuujjuaq about 341 nautical miles due south, some 380 miles or 4
hours. I could just do it with the day light. They offered me water for the
flight, I got back in my suit as Mitch phone through the flight plan and I was
set. Back in the plane I taxied and entered via Charlie again as I couldn’t see
the other entrance to the runway, there must have been one but there was a lot
of new development work, temporary taxi ways and lighting. I took photos of the
famous yellow terminal building and entered the runway. The tower controller
was cool and cleared me to take off and activated my flight plan. Itzy took to
the evening skies but wasn’t happy. Was it the fuel? It couldn’t be because it
wouldn’t have been pure car fuel yet, there was still half a tank of Avgas I’d
mixed it with. Oh well I went into cruise mode at 90 knots and set off. We only
just cleared the hills south of the bay. At this rate it would be really late
when I got to where ever I was going. I had to find it? There was another time
shift, I wasn’t actually sure what time it was here in Canada . I opened up the engine to climb, it wasn’t happy. Colin Colin
Colin… That’s 8 hours it’s done already today. You have done well. Listen to
your plane trying, trying to look after you. Yu don’t know where you are going,
how long it will take to get there, what is there when you get there and you
could kill the engine running it like this and that is the end of Oshkosh … I had a
massive headache, but I’m sure this was just because of wearing the headsets
for 8 hours already today. I keep having to take them off to wiggle and stretch
my ear lobes.
So I did something I don’t often do in
my life… I did the right thing and I turned the plane around… Poor brain is
fried, but deep down I knew this might be one too far. I called up Iqaluit
again and told them not to worry, but I had an imbalance in my engine and I was
coming back. They cleared me to land when the field was in sight and taxing
back in I asked where I could park this over night. “Up by the Dac would be
good!” “No worries.” I could see a DC3 Dacota, turbine converted, and I taxied
up to it past the FBO, who were having a party outside and were no doubt
wondering why I had come back.
I shut down Itzy and walked over to the
FBO to explain. They asked if I needed anything, but I didn’t really, I needed
to find out what was wrong with the engine and I headed off back to
investigate.
I took the cowls off, expecting to have
to reset the tappets. That’s what it normally is when there is a funny
vibration. The bad thing was I had only just redone them in Iceland , they shouldn’t change that quickly. But no, oil was dripping
out of the cowls again. The collection bottle was full to overflowing. The vent
pipe was submerged in the oil which wouldn’t let the engine crankcase vent
properly, causing the rough running. I cleared the bottle and checked the tappets
anyway. A young bloke headed out. I’m really embarrassed because he saved the
day and I think his name was Matt. Look, my brain is completely fried. And I
know it…
His father owned Air Nunavut , they ran a
couple, may be 3 King Airs and a few other planes, but by now it was dark and I
couldn’t see them properly. We chatted for half an hour until the mosquitoes
got the best of us and he invited me back to their hangar. I told him all and
he listened to my predicament. Upstairs with a computer for the weather and
their flight planning software, we started looking at a route. Maps, Matt had
lots of old ones and an invaluable Canadian Flight Supplement with every
airport in Canada in brief in it. It was exactly what I needed. It was only valid
for three months. A big book I thought for just a few months, but anyway it was
what was needed. Matt admitted that the best thing to do though was wait until
West, an old timer pilot, turned up as he had so much knowledge he would advise
on the best route.
We chatted out the back porch
overlooking the town and I asked lots of questions as I knew I left tomorrow
and wouldn’t get chance. He was an early time commercial pilot as well. His
Dad’s company serviced the airports in the northern territories . They went place no one else went, but only because of their
pilot’s knowledge and experience of weather and runway conditions. I asked him
where he thought he would be in 5 years time like I had asked Mitch,
Interesting answers too. The airfield was expanding rapidly as was the town.
The town was only here because of the airport, so there were never any
complaints about it. The prospectors for the mineral wealth of Northern Canada had moved in
and now the town was booming.
A king Air taxied in. The people onboard
had been stuck up north for 15 days and West and co-pilot Calvin had gone up
and rescued them but the weather had been close to limits. Sliding in under
very low cloud. Hum, done that before…
I tried to help, I knew West and Calvin
had been out on a long one, but when he had dealt with work issues West came
and sat with me to work a best route. Unparallel assistance considering I bet
all he wanted to do was go home for a good rest, but he wouldn’t until we had
worked a route all the way to the American border. It was late though and I
could catch them in the morning if I needed to ask more questions. West was
just more embarrassed as the printer had run out of toner and would print the
flight plans he had created. It didn’t matter and I would see them tomorrow morning.
There were a load of new Air Nunavut baseball caps
on a table, I’d ask to buy one tomorrow, I don’t have a cap yet and I cant go
to Canada and America and not carry a hat.
With great thanks everyone departed and
I returned to Itzy to complete the tappets, clearing an oiling up ready for
tomorrow. My new 66 North hat from Iceland was awesome at keeping the mosies
off and gloves worked ok a bit but I still got bitten a lot before tidying up
and jumping in the plane. The temporary flashing lights for the new wider pan
were mesmerising, but soon I was asleep.
Thought for the day: Itzy is in Canada . Yeah.
Day 39. 30/July/2014 Oh bum… Iqaluit to Puvirnituq 392 miles 2:59 hrs
Day score 10.
Some possible 1,625 miles to Oshkosh .
I was woken by some the guys working on
the new pan about 7.am. It was ok, but I had a dead leg and fell embarrassingly
out the plane whacking into Itzy’s tailplane. Yeas, I almost snapped it off!
That would have been good. I entertained about 5 workers with stories and
photos until they moved on. Good timing as West and Calvin arrived and I went
over to greet them. My only request of their time today was to check the
weather on their computer, but nope, they invited me in and we had a great
chat. Truly I had seemingly come across the most experienced pilot in Northern Canada . He had lived
in England a while, so… They had a flight to go way way up north and West
and Calvin explained about the weather. It seemed as unpredictable as Iceland . So many variables. There was some mutual respect that I found
very heartening. The people who were flying were invited up, because they were
getting eaten by the cars. West explained to a group of scientists that it
didn’t look good where they were going, it really didn’t. There are no
guarantees with flying but West said that he doubted that he could land where
they wanted to go today and they agreed to come back and try again tomorrow. So
it’s not only me after all. This day off helped Calvin and West as they were
bushed. But for me the route was set and the weather was good for the leg.
Calvin took half an hour with me to describe the procedures for setting flight
plans and cancelling them over the radio or by free phone number anywhere. It
was what I needed to know. As I collected my stuff together Matt brought a Air Nunavut hat through.
It brought tears again because these people had been so good to me and I’d
almost forgot to ask, but yet I didn’t need to. Matt seemed to instinctively
know what I needed. I said I would ware it walking around Oshkosh , if I ever got
there. Photos were taken downstairs and off I set to Itzy.
I jumped in and taxied away. The
controller was quite used to my call sign now and the runway was clear for take
off. Itzy sounded a lot happier climbing away this time and we headed south
west and climbed well.
For once a flight went relatively well.
There was nothing down there, no where to land but lakes and rock. What has
happened to the land is continual ice ages have warn the land flat. It is flat,
absolutely, all that is left is some diverts caused by the ice which have
filled with water, creating millions of little lakes. There was 3 hours of
this. Music again helped and the stick to rest my aching right foot. I push
down on the pedal with my right hand on top of the cut off broom pole with
notches in indicating every 5 litres of fuel in the reserve tank that fits on
the seat. I transferred the fuel as normal, as soon as there was room for it up
front. 7,000ft and scorching along with what must have been 20 knots on the
tail. Nearly 400 miles in 3 hours. The thing was that the wind was gusting at
90 degrees across the runway at Puvirnituq. This would be not fun. I couldn’t
hear them on the radio and there was a Boeing 737 parked up. On a gravel
runway, this would be interesting to see. I landed on their 19 runway, a
textbook cross wind landing and approach, but Itzy is good and handled the
quite severe conditions with ease. I taxied up behind a shed for the sliding
control gate as it acted as a wind break. The wind was howling. I walked into
the terminal and found a phone to call the free call number to close my flight
plan. A guy answered, I said I was “The pilot of G-BYLP” and he asked “Are you
safely on the ground at Puvirnituq?” I said I was and he said “Great!” and
asked if there was anything else he could help me with today. “Nope.” and he
pleasantly said “Goodbye.” That was easy.
So why is today entitled “Oh Bum?” Well
I can land in these conditions, but there is no way I can take off in them.
That’s a whole new board game. When you land you are like a glider and just
land. When you are taking off and applying power and lifting the tail with
Gyroscopic effect of the propeller having effects, and side thrust due to slip
stream, it just all a bit much especially on a loose gravel surface. I went up
to the control tower. The controller was a local Inuit guy wit a very
responsible job, He joked with me about the weather and apologised for not
talking to me but every hour he has to go and record the temperature a due
point and he wasn’t on the radio when I arrived. I said not to worry and
truthfully I believe I was on the wrong frequency anyway. But never mind.
A young engineer made his acquaintance
back down in the terminal building. His name was Richmond and he was
ground crew on the 737, dash 8 and Twin Otters of Air Inuit. He was almost at
the end of his 3 on 3 off weeks. It breaks the ice when you say you are an
engineer to. We have to unite against pilots and managers who just don’t
understand what we do. We just cost money and keep taking the aircraft apart,
that’s all we do to them. He asked if he could help. Well ideally I needed to
look at the weather and to refuel. There was no avgas here either, there was
and then apparently there wasn’t, then there definitely wasn’t. Richmond walked me
through to the Air Inuit offices and I looked at the weather on the pilots
briefing computer. The weather had turned quite bad with very low cloud and
rain due to a front some 100 miles south. There would be no more flying today.
But Richmond said to meet him outside in ten minutes and we would go and get
fuel. As we drove down town, just like so many places, the town could only
survive now from the airport and supplies from a ship which happened to be in
the harbour, which only arrived three times a year. It arrived as soon as the
sea ice had melted, mid summer and just before the sea froze again. There were
large wooden crates all over the place, stacked up. I asked what was in them
and Richmond said it could be anything from basic blocks of wood for a new
house or a quad bike or Skidoo. It could be anything.
40 litres of fuel was bought and we
returned to poor it into Itzy. 20 for the main tank and 20 for reserve. Richmond had to return
to work and I thanked him sincerely as whatever happened I was now ready to
continue when I could.
There was wifi in the airport lounge, so
I dug the laptop out and went to research some more weather. This system was
quite local, if I had gone to Kuujjuaq, due south of Iqaluit I could have
skirted around it, but we were not to know. The 737 fired up and taxied out and
took off. Wow, how did it not dig holes in the ground and suck up the gravel
with its engines. The jet engines would not like eating gravel. In fact it
doesn’t take much ingestion of foreign matter to really effect engine
performance. The 737 was adapted to have a ski on the nose leg and deflect
stones from the engine air intakes. But perhaps the 737 did dig wholes as out
went a leveller truck followed by a truck spraying oil from the back. The oil
was apparently vegetable oil. to hold the runway gravel together. Figures…
The wind was ripping at the three flag
atop the flag poles. But Itzy just sat there
In the shelter of the gate shed. The
ladies at the Inuit came over to ask if I was ok. It was very nice of them.
There seemed a strange mix of Inuit, English speaking Canadian and French
speaking Canadian, all trying to live in harmony.
Later I walked back out to the plane,
not sure what for. An Air Inuit van drove up, out of it came a nice chap called
Dan. He brought fruit and some cartons of juice. He told me they had been
watching me walking about while working all day and was there any way they
could help. Stop it blowing and make the sun come out was not on his approval
list. Dan was a carpenter by trade and just made sure everything ticked along
and that anything that got broke got fixed. He asked once more was there
anything he could do. I thanked him but said no. I was fine. I went back in to
the terminal, the last plane was about to take off. They told me I could stay
in the building as there was a night controller on throughout the night. I
wanted to stay another hour, but then I really needed to sleep. So as darkness
didn’t fall, as it still didn’t much up here, I climbed back in Itzy and tried
to sleep, but I couldn’t. Either this tank was leaking or the car fuel was
venting off something that the avgas didn’t. If I left a gap around the canopy
for some air, the wind, rain and mosquitoes came in. If I closed the canopy I
got dizzy on fuel fumes. It was a torrid night.
Thought of the day: Dam, almost made
good progress today. Blasted weather.
Day 40. 31/July/2014 Why? Another day
lost… Day score 10.
Still a top scoring day, but why? Well
read on… I got out the cockpit with a splitting headache and walked around for
a bit. I thought the airfield opened at 7am , but the little Inuit guy
didn’t roar up to the gate on his quad bike till 8am . This meant an hour of moving from place to place trying to
stay dry and avoid the mosquitoes until I could escape them inside the
terminal. Where had this come from. Heavy heavy rain. The worst thing was that
it was clear 50 miles south. It was so tempting to just head off, knowing I
would fly through about an hour of bad weather and then it would clear up and
I’d be on my way to Oshkosh . But Itzy doesn’t like flying in the rain, it is really
abrasive to the prop and its just dam right unpleasant. Also there was an
indication of low cloud or fog on route. Its not for me…
I spoke to the controller again, he
confirmed the bad weather. There was a clearance heading this way on the
satellite imagery, so I might escape south. But
Not today. But let’s not loose a day.
Let’s sit on the laptop and load photo and video from cameras, and catch up
with the diary. I did this till about midday when the
clearance arrived, the sun even came out and I returned to Itzy. I spokr to a
few passing pilots confirming that it was clear 40 miles south and at low level
you could see for miles.
Now sooner had a decided to get ready
then heavy rain came back from the north and back to the terminal I went. This
is another day lost in Oshkosh , if I ever get there.
The 737 arrived again. The levelling
truck went out and more vegitable oil was sprayed around. Maybe the 737 puts
grooves in the runway and after every landing the leveller goes out and removes
the grooves?
There were a few things to clear up. In
the middle of the terminal building was a sledge and on the back a rock carved
angry looking polar bear and on the front, an old Inuit lady with a glove in
her hand, also carved of stone. Now the story goes that one winter a family had
got caught out in a bad storm. They were starving and a long way from home.
Their gran was holding them up and being a pain, so they left her behind. Nice!
She was stalked by a polar bear and when the polar bear attacked, she killed
the polar bear by stuffing her glove down its throat. She then caught the
family up with the polar bear and they all had food to eat and made it home
safely. Now as stories go, there are a few things there that I wouldn’t really
want to tell children. 1: Today it’s not really ok to leave your gran behind to
die. 2: Your gran or no one should go around killing polar bears. Then after
she killed the polar bear, how if she couldn’t keep up, did she then catch up
with her family? And why if she had been left behind would she catch up with
her family and finally, how bad was the frost bite on her hand without the
glove, or did she pull it back from the bears throat?
Dan came to find me and we had another
little chat. I thought everyone would speak French here, and he said he was a
native French speaker, well he hid it well from me. He then spoke about the
turmoil in the area. Ok, the French and English did invade the Inuit land. Up
north was purely Inuit and English, but here the French speakers had been
fighting feverishly and to a point of annoyance to all to try and retain their
roots and status, or they would have disappeared and so would their language.
But basically the Brits and French had taken the Inuit land for their own. Now
as Canadians, they realised what they had done to the Inuit, but it was too late.
In the last 60 years the Inuit way of life, of fishing and hunting had gone, as
in gone gone. They did not need to hunt or fish, they could go to the Canadian
store. The government was paying the Inuit for there land and all the Inuit did
not have to work anymore. They just drank and ate. But the alcohol was causing
obvious problems and the amount of sugar in all the modern food and drink the
Inuit’s could not control. Their children after a bottle of coke was a sight to
see apparently. So most if not all Inuit person had a home, money, food, quad
bike, skidoo, paid for by the Canadian Government. So most days, not all but
some of the Inuit would get drunk and go and crash their quad bike and then
need to be air medic evacuated to Montreal. Indeed there was a Challenger jet
here last night for a Medivac flight and actually it was outside again today
for another. All this was costing the Canadian Government a fortune and
everything was a big mess, but what else could they do? The Canadians were not
going to back out of Northern Canada and give back the Inuit there way of life that they had for
thousands of years, because of all the mineral wealth in the area. It sort of
reminded me of the situation with the Aborigine’s in Australia . All the Canadians could do is try and secure the Inuit
history, language and culture, before it disappeared, respect the French
speaking society and keep digging for gold.
But no ethnic society or culture can
change in a generation. It must be impossible for the Inuit. But Dan said, they
have two choices, they realise it is going to happen, it has happened. Once
choice is not good, the other is much worse. Wow. Oh and he reminded me, you
can’t call the Inuit ‘Indian’s’, like in Cowboys and Indians. It was seen as
highly disrespectful. They were either, First Generation Canadian’s or Inuit,
but definitely not Indian’s. This brought up confusion as I had heard someone
complaining that all the good companies up here were Indian. I wasn’t sure if
he meant Indian as in Asia , with Delhi and a capital of Calcutta , or Indian
being Northern Native Inuit? Air Inuit was run and managed by Inuit people and
government sponsored and employed a lot of French and English speaking
Canadians… Wow, that’s as clear as the water swirling around the floor.
There were floods outside now. I spoke
to a few other visitors and locals. Some blokes who had come up here for the
day to go fishing? And they had big smiles saying they had caught lots of
Arctic Shark in the rivers. I asked how they did that and they said they wade
in thigh deep and fly fish for them. Wow! That sort of sounded more dangerous
than what I had been doing. They could not believe I had arrived from the UK in such a small plane. I couldn’t believe they had gone wading
into rivers to catch shark. But it hasn’t sunk in yet myself. As far as I’m
concerned, that was another day lost and I haven’t arrived yet. Tomorrow looks
better though…
Ok, 7pm . The airfield was closing down as the last planes left. Dan
arrived in his big works truck and invited me to dinner. He almost was
insisting and said, bring your shower gear as well. I bet you could do with
one. He told me one of the pilots had also being fishing and dinner tonight for
all the Inuit staff was Arctic shark. I’m not a shark eater really, but I
couldn’t refuse such a generous offer.
We arrived at what was originally the
first wooden building in Puvirnituq. It had been converted from the town hall
to offices and now served as the pilot, engineers and office staff’s home from
home when they are on their two on three off or three on and two off, or what
ever schedule they worked away from their home bases much further south. Dan, a
colleague and I arrived and I was made very welcome, just as people were
sitting down to eat. I was quickly shown around. Just outside the back door was
the one and only pipe supplying JetA1 And heating oil to the town. All through
the same pipe. They just cleaned it a bit before changing tanks. At the bottom
of the patio was a guy in a tent watching to make sure it was coming on shore
ok, as the supply ship was out there pumping it in now. So a Barbeque was out
of the question. Out there in the middle of the river was ‘Dog Island’ an
island where the Inuit put all their Husky dogs on during the summer so that
they were not wandering around town, and some one went out their each day to
through them some fish. Poor dogs. A summer on an Island …
Another place was laid for me at the
table. It was explained that each night the ten or so people staying here took
turns in cooking dinner. Tonight’s meal was a speciality, ‘Artic Char’, it’s a
fish resembling a salmon and it’s apparently delicious. I explained that I had
heard wrongly and thought that people were brave trying to wade into rivers to
catch ‘Arctic shark’. That basically set off the evening. We have with us a
Dumb English guy!!!
I can’t as ever remember everyone’s
names, but to my left sat a well educated and interesting French speaking pilot
who I believe was called Felix, next to him a very enthusiastic Inuit lad called
Nathanial, who was learning to be an engineer, the next young lad never spoke
really, then Dan, then a young English speaking Canadian lady who worked behind
the check in desk, then seemingly the most senior pilot not in age, but any
question asked by me seemed to be answered by him who I think was Greg. Next I
believe I wrote John, he had flown to America and promised to sit with me and go online tonight to get all
the permits that I knew I didn’t have yet to fly into America . Then a young pilot who had caught the fish and cooked it and
who’s birthday it was tomorrow and finally an elder Inuit guy sitting to my
right, names name names. This guy was really interesting though. He was an
Inuit who had taken one of the Canadian Government initiatives and learnt to
fly and obtain his commercial licence and all paid for. Where some of his
boyhood friends had gone the other way, he indeed had realised that what was
happening to his family and way of life was happening and there would be no
stopping it. Better to embrace the changes than fight a loosing battle. Now all
they had to do was protect what was left of their language and culture for
further generations to remember and respect. I questioned that it was not
possible to change a whole way of life in one generation. His reply was “Look
around?” Wow…
The shark as it was now called was
delicious. They questioned how I liked it. I said it was saltier than I thought
and quite fatty, but juicy and delicious. I was congratulated, nods all round
because indeed, the Shark had been out to sea and took on the salty taste and
was well fatted before swimming up river because it would have eaten well
before starting the journey. Top marks, maybe I wasn’t so dumb after all and
the whisky and Rum were brought out.
Later after many more jokes, Dan had to
go to his home. The pilots insisted I stayed, got a shower and tidied up here
and had a comfortable bed, as soon as Dan let out I was sleeping in the plane.
I did explain the 100 day rule. Dan smiled at me and whispered, “I knew they
would offer.” I thanked him sincerely as he left…
Now it was time to sit down with John
and work out the final route to Oshkosh . He suggested
indeed Le Grande Riviere, or just La Grand to all pilots. He said, “Be careful!
They will speak only French down there!” Then he suggested Kapuskasing. There I
could file a ‘Trans Borders Flight Plan’ and fly to ‘Chippewa County
International’ an easy airport to land at and clear American Customs there,
before flying on then to Oshkosh.
Ok, for America, first thing I would
need to do on the day was to file an ‘EAPIS’ (Electronic Advanced Passenger
Information Service). This I could do on line at Kapuskasing in the morning
with two hours notice of arrival. But first I would have to register for the
service, which John did for me on his laptop there and then. He then added that
when you file the flight plan and tell the Americans when you are going to be
there, make SURE to be on time when you arrive and “DO NOT GET OUT OF YOUR
PLANE” until you are told it is ok to do so by the Customs and Border agents.
OK.
Next Itzy needed a Decal (Sticker) or
Decal Number, I’d never get it sent to me on time, but all I needed was the
reference number. We registered Itzy at ‘DTOPS’ (Decal Transponder Online
Procurement System) and I got an email back with the reference number:
ID/APGA74VS. Blumin Americans!
On the day of arrival in America , I should call the port of entry. It would be Sault SE Marie
and the number was a free call number: 1 906 632 2631
Then once they are happy, call the
Canadian flight planning guys like I did to close my flight plan at Puvirnituq,
same number but press 2 to file a Trans Border Flight Plan.
Land in the States. Clear Customs and
Immigration. Then call and close my Canadian flight plan and I should be free
to go to Oshkosh .
I was so greatful. I knew I had to do
all this and soon, but having it explained and some of it done instead of
having to research it on my own saved hours of invaluable time.
It was late, I was shown my room, and
shower facilities and left in peace. I said I might be out early and told no
worries and to just close the door behind you.
A shower and shave, last one was blimey,
in Iceland …
Thought for the day: I’m clean, resting
in a comfy bed and not fighting mosquitoes or snorting fuel vapour! I had a
little too much whisky and rum and coke, but it was nice.
Day 41. 01/Aug/2014 Puvirnituq
to Le Grande Riviere 386 miles 4:16 hrs
Le Grande Riviere to Kapuskasing
328 miles 3:31 hrs
Maybe around 1,220 miles to Oshkosh .
Day score 10.
I woke up to see an amazing view. My
little room’s little window looked out across the mouth of the river and close
enough to see the dogs on Dog Island . Blue and sunny skies. Everything had cleared through.
I walked out at 7am . Comfy boots. And headed for the airfield. Once there I called
the 1 866 wxbrief number to file my flight plan to Le Grande. I was number 8
inline and waited 20 minutes. The sun was out and maybe everyone wanted to fly?
But after talking to the guy eventually, I realised why it may have taken some
time. He ran through the NOTAMS with me. Notice to Airmen. He said there was
one particular to me. There was a ship in the Puvirnituq River offloading fuel oil. I told him I had seen that. Next was the
weather brief. He predicted clear skies but some coastal fog around the town of
Kuujjuarapik, but further in land and effecting Le Grande, where thunderstorm
later in the day. Ok, I thanked him and thought I better get there sooner than
later.
Ok, with this done I went up and thanked
the tower guy. He was a lovely old Inuit chap, as happy and polite as possible.
Itzy was still wet but came very clean
considering all the dust on arrival. I climbed in and started up the engine.
The runway was clear and there was no wind so I took off down runway 01. I
climbed out turning left over the Hudson Bay and looked back on Puvirnituq. I was there maybe a day longer
than hoped, but it had been wonderful and at least I now knew where I was going
and what I was doing, so definitely not wasted time.
Still no where to land but dead flat for
the first hour. Just rock and lakes. Direct route took me in land but the Hudson Bay comes in a
curve some 40 miles inland and then I was along the coast again. This was good
and I followed the coast as there were little beaches every 5 miles or so. I
could land on any of them. The ground began to rise and fall a little and large
water falls fed from yesterdays rain were pretty spectacular, but no one gets
to see them unless in a plane, because there are still no roads or any
civilisation. That looked like a valley of little bushes or trees. A little
green amongst the ice smooth polished rocks and lakes. This was the tree line
beginning. Hum, there was a road and the little town of Kuujjuarapik . But now was fog coming off the Hudson Bay area, but that
was ok as I needed to head in land. In land there were heavy rain storms and
wow, lightening striking the ground. Hum. Now I’m flying with fog on the Stbd
wing and thunder clouds on the port wing tip. But I will admit, on route was
clear and I had a good tailwind again.
A mass of thunderstorms had grown into
one big line of them and I wasn’t going in there. Now just 20 miles from Le
Grande I could hear him clearly and he warned of thunderstorms to the
northwest, heading south. Ok, it was dark and now raining as I turned behind
the thunder clouds flashing away and crackling on the radio, but there were the
runway lights and a storm line not 1 mile to the north. Do I wait for it to
pass? I have 3 hours of fuel still onboard, or do I dive in. Better just dive
in and sit it out. I landed and taxied in requesting fuel and was directed to
the Avgas pumps. It started chucking it down, but some guy turned up at my
wing. I asked if we could wait till it stopped raining, he replied that it
would never stop raining! Good point and I climbed out. His name was Rene, I
remember because his name was on the pay slip and we pumped 50 litres of Avgas
into the main tank and 15 more into the reserve tank, just to slosh out any
remaining car fuel I had got from Iqaluit and Puvirnituq. In his little shack
he explained about the power always going off. There was one of the biggest
Hydro electric dams in the world just 20 miles down the road. Supplying most of
the Canada and the rest to America and even though they were only 20 miles away, flying hydro
plant employees in and out of the airfield, with the main highway running just
outside the airport, they never had a reliable electric supply. I laughed and
joked with him and bought some more oil, before running up to the main terminal
building as there was a small $10 landing fee to pay. I didn’t have any
Canadian money but the accepted $10 USD instead. I asked if they had closed my
flight plan and they confirmed. I tried to speak my Schoolboy French as they
obviously all were French speakers, but it was not so good. I asked if they had
maps I could buy as I didn’t have the final one before America . They did not. Ok…
There was an Air Inuit maintenance
hangar finally at the top of the pan and I ran to its open doors through the
rain. Inside there were two guys. A licensed engineer and young lad just
preparing for his exams. As soon as I broke the ice explaining I was a British
licensed engineer and we talked shop a little and went on about the wows of our
governing bodies, everything was cool. They showed me around and outside was an
old British 748. The last one they had apparently. They had four but they lost
three to corrosion. I asked why they were still operating them as they must be
60 years old and antiquated. The reason was because they had a massive rear
cargo door. Ok.
I helped them bring it in out of the
rain. It was highly polished and cherished. I asked if they had any maps and
they hunted around the bins and pilot bags until the one I was missing was
found. Out of date, but better than nothing and only just out of date. They
couldn’t close the door because they had a phase out in the power lines and
cursed the electric company as well. I thanked them and returned to the
terminal as the sun was visible now to the north.
About another hour though of watching
passengers come and go. They had to get their own luggage of the tractor
trailer that brought it from the plane because the baggage conveyor belt
wouldn’t run as it was also missing a phase of power.
I phoned up the flight planning number
and filed for Kapuskasing. This was fine but the guy warned of thunderstorms in
the vicinity. I sort of new that already.
Time was getting short, I could land at
Kapuskasing any time of night, but still I didn’t want to leave it too long. I
knew if I could escape out through the remaining rain showers I could probably
fly around and storm once I was in the air. I asked to line up on runway 31 and
was cleared to take off. In the rain at least the engine temperature would be
kept low. I skirted around a while heading northwest when I needed to head
southwest. Eventually I turned the last of the rain and headed on track. It
looked quite good actually.
The landscape steadily turned from rock
and lakes to trees and lakes and then just trees and then trees with big rivers
and back to trees and lakes as I rounded Hudsen Bay and crossed
the river estuary at the south of the bay. There were now a few power line
avenues and may be a road or two, but still wilderness. The only real sign of
life was a highway ahead that my destination of Kapuskasing lay on and I
descended calling my intentions but no one replied so I landed on runway 35
because there was no wind and the terminal building was at the end of it and I
wouldn’t need to turn around or back track.
I climbed out after stopping by the
Kapuskasing Aero Club. Walking in to the terminal there was a young lady behind
the desk. I asked if there was chance of fuel. There was but there would be a
call out fee? But if I could refuel tonight then I could leave whenever I
wanted to in the morning, so Norman or Norm would come out right now. I moved
Itzy to the pumps and removed the engine cowls. The oil collector pot was
almost full again, so I poured it back in to the engine, less the dregs of
water at the bottom and added another half litre of oil I had bought from Rene.
Norm turned up, I apologised for the
late call out, he was not busy so it was no problem. I put 100 litres on board.
Combined with what I had onboard, that would get me to Oshkosh and I wouldn’t
need the hassle of refuelling at Sault Se Marie. There would no doubt be enough
problems with Customs anyway.
Norm offered me a lift to a Motel, I
told him the 100 day rule and he said, oh in that case just sleep in the
terminal or in the little room under the control tower, his friends Rick would
be there all night anyway on radio guard, but don’t make too much noise as it
upsets his dog.
We went up to meet Rick and I said I
would be staying downstairs. This was not a problem and Rick came out with Norm
to see my plane and then Norm gave me a lift in to town. Leaving the airfield
on the main state highway, the first thing encountered was a massive grave yard
on eth left. Then the massive papermil which took its electricity from a
hydroelectric dam in town. He showed me where all the fast food stores were and
I thanked him and jumped out. Subway tonight.
I then walked the big and little circles
of town. Is this typically Canadian? No fences, big wooden houses with large
churches everywhere in the suburbs? All very well equipped and tidy with a
lovely park down by the river. Doing the full circle I came back to the
industrial part of town and there was a massive old steam train parked up
outside the rail way station. A huge thing from the Cowboy and First Generation
Canadian films I’d seen as a boy. Reading a sign about the history of
Kapuskasing, it meant in Inuit, ‘Bend in the river’… In 1911 the National
Transcontinental train line arrived here as the bend in the river made it
easier to build a bridge. But after a few years progress was stopped during the
first world war. The creation of a ‘paper pulp’ factory expanded the town as
this was the nearest place to trees and transport and water necessary for pulp
and paper making.
The walk back past the seedy bars,
motels and graveyards was long and treacherous as I wasn’t dressed to walk down
a highway in my black Charlatans hoody. There were faint lights ahead of all
colours, little lights some flickering.
Oh no way! You know you can get the solar powered lights for outdoor
paths or to illuminate your garden or pool, well the mourners of the people
buried here had place solar lights all around their graves. At first I thought
it rather sad, but soon I could understand a reasoning…
Anyway, back at the airport I took
refuge in the room below the tower. It had internet WIFI and I stayed up way
past midnight trying to depict a route to Oshkosh . I didn’t have
any maps of America , just software on my laptop. So the route would be to head
southwest till I picked up Lake Michigan , then follow the coast off shore by a few miles and that would
keep me out of all airspace and away from airfields. I would do this until I
came to Sheboygan and then if I headed due west it would take me to Rippon and
the start of the VFR route to Oshkosh , Sorted!
Well I needed to sleep sometime. And
that would do for the night.
Thought for the day: Kapuskasing is the
type of pioneering town I wanted to see in Canada . I got to see it just, even if by night. Oshkosh tomorrow, am I
thinking about it? No… I dare not… Close but still lots to go wrong… But surely
enough had. I mean if I couldn’t make it now, for the last weekend of the show
and the main day as well being Saturday… Stop thinking and sleep...
Day 42. 02/Aug/2014 Kapuskasing
to Sault se Marie 198 miles 1:58 hrs Sault se Marie to Oshkosh 312 miles 3:07 hrs
Day score 100.
About 510 miles to Oshkosh .
The first thought of the day was that
the route I had been advised to take since leaving Iceland was exactly the one
I wrote on a piece of paper, when knowing nothing back in Iceland. How bizarre?
I must be a genius?
Right, it’s 6.am, where do I start? John
had written a list of things to do today. First was to file ‘A Notice of
Arrival’ with EAPIS. Gosh, they wanted to know everything, but I had registered
with them already, so it was easier and I had my ‘Aircraft Decal’ number now
instead of just a reference, which was: 830127. Time of arrival in America at Chippewa County Airfield would be? Well if I take off at 8.am and loose an hour
due to arriving in Chicago and Oshkosh which is in the Central Time Zone in
America and it’s a 2 hour flight then I’ll land at 9.am and they want it in
local time. Ok, all sorted and sent. I got my EAPIS code by return of email and
it was EAPIS: 5292724.
Ok, now I need to phone the Customs and
Immigration office at my port of arrival to confirm their attendance at the
airport. Hang on… Sault Se Marie is still in the Eastern Time Zone… Bugger,
I’ll have to modify the EAPIS. It told me I could do this. Ok, I’ll now land at
10.am local, but now I’ve got a new EAPIS number? OK, write it down. EAPIS:
5292738
Now phone American Customs and
Immigration. “Good Morning, I’d like to confirm your attendance at Chippewa County International Airport please?” He replied, “Why are you going there?” I didn’t have a
good answer to that… “Because I was advised to?” He was not happy, “Heck no,
its miles for us to drive there, why can’t you come to Sault Se Marie, like
everyone else, it’s just up the road for us?” “Ok, if it helps you, I’ll come
to Sault Se Marie,” not wanting to make a fuss. He then added, “And why have
you filed two EAPIS’s?” Steady on mate… “Because I got the arrival time wrong
on the first sir.” I thought I would put a ‘Sir’ in to improve his manner. It
didn’t. “Have you filed an ESTA?” This was an (Electronic States Transferral
Application) or something like that, but a Visa application to you and me. “No
sir, but I can do if you wish on line now?” I didn’t think it necessary. “No you
don’t need to do that, you are exempt due to your passage in a none commercial
vessel. Ok we have enough information, we will probably be there 10 mins late
as we are busy” “Sir, can I have your name?” “Bill, Agent Bill!” and the phone
went down.
Right now I can phone the Canadian
flight planning service and file a ‘Trans Border Flight Plan. This was
relatively easy now for me and I made sure I told him I was now going to land
at Sault Se Marie. The guy said he just needed to know what time I was expected
to cross the border? I told him “I expect to be shot down at 13.50 zulu!” He
laughed and said the weather looks fine with no NOTAMS and wished me luck. His
name was Mario. I wrote it down. I sort of have to do that a lot now.
I fired up the laptop again and found
the plate with information about Sault Se Marie. I drew it out on a piece of
paper as I’d done with so many airfields when a printer was not available.
Ok, lets get in and go because its
getting late. The tedds didn’t need to be in their bag anymore, there was
little risk of them drowning now or being lost at sea with the plane. So I
placed them in the back so they call all see out.
I’ll say now, I have to arrive at Oshkosh before 2:00pm CDT (Central D Time) whenever that was, as the afternoon airshow
starts and the airfield is closed to all arrivals, big time… By the time I took off it was 8:10 am local. I’m glad they said they would be 10 minutes late as so
will I be…
It was hot already and there was a
headwind. The engine oil temp went higher than I’ve ever seen it. If I climbed
to get into cooler air, the speed slowed down and if I pushed it harder the
engine temps went off the top without the cracked oil cooler. And if I
descended lower to stay out of the headwind, then the air was warmer and you
get the picture.
What ever I did, the GPS said I was
going to be 5 minutes later than their 10 minutes late. The engine was on melt
down.
You may ask about the Scenery? Yeah
trees and stuff.
Ok, I needed to get a ‘Trans Border
Transponder Code’ or as the Americans would say, I needed a ‘TBTC’… The thing
was, being this low, I couldn’t reach Toronto Control on
128.3 to get one. I heard someone else much higher obtain a code of 4347. I
wrote it down, I could always use that one in an emergency if I couldn’t get my
own. I would have to climb soon anyway as the ground, trees and stuff, was
coming up to meet me. I climbed slowly to 4,000ft. Toronto could now here
me and I requested a Trans Border Transponder Code and he gave me one of 4365.
Brill! I thanked him and since I was only 30 miles away he handed me over to
Sanderson, who ever they were? It was the same frequency as Sault Se Marie, so
I changed to it. It was busy. Aircraft coming and going and doing circuits but
announcing Sanderson?
I approached the border and could see
the town of Sault Se
Marie . Now the airfield is to the
south of the town which is south of the river, the river being the border. I
can go and land straight into runway 14, but the training aircraft on this
frequency are using runway 32 and possibly coming out at me coming in. I’m not
going to fly low over the town so I’ll go west. Now just to add to the
confusion, there are two airfields called Sault Se Marie. One about 5 miles
west and in Canada, above the river and the airfield south of the river in
American, the airfield I’m trying to land at. The Unicom frequency is sort of
what it says. Everyone is uniformly on it and we can all sort out where we are
going and what everyone is doing by ourselves politely. So I state “G-BYLP
joining down wind left hand for 35. Another aircraft calls “Short finals 35
Sanderson!” good for him. Then on the frequency comes a loud voice, “Aircraft
west of Sanderson you have just entered Sault Se Marie airspace!” Correct and
that’s me. So I reply “Terribly sorry about that!” as if I’ve done something
wrong? “I’m on a left base for runway 35.” He replied that “It’s a right hand
circuit for 35!” What, over the city, are you kidding? Anyway I didn’t know
that so I’ll apologise, “Terribly sorry about that old chap, I didn’t know!”
putting a bit of Enlish tongue in there so he would realise I wasn’t from
around here and he might leave me alone. “Ok well, next time!” As if… The
training aircraft called “5 miles out on runway 35 at Sanderson and hanging back
for the little plane on base!” I have no idea where he was but I was on left
base for Sault Se Marie, the American one, and I called “G-BYLP final 35 Sault
Se Marie” and landed and taxied off the runway as quick as possible and taxied
up in front of the little terminal building. There was a big sign saying
“Welcome to Sanderson!” It later transpired that because there are two
airfields with the same name, they call the American airfield Sanderson. Oh,
now you tell me. No wonder… Anyway I do not care, I’m on the ground. Hey, and
I’m in America …
Remember what John said, wait in your
plane. There was a black and white wagon out in the car park and indeed two
officers walking out to great me. But what a greeting! Again, like in Canada , a lady and a gent. And as in Canada , the lady did all the talking. “Sir you may get out of your
plane!” Brill I went to say hello and shake hands, but note pads and Geiger
counters were being carried so there was no shaking of hands. “Sir, do you know
what an ESTA is?” “Sort of?” I replied. “Sir we have a problem with your
documentation and the way you have entered the United States of America .” I’m sure you have I thought!!! What the xxxx now. She seemed
disturbed at my lack of a surprise that there was a problem… “Sir, you did not
file an ESTA with our Federal Government Immigration and Customs Department!”
“Yes but I was told I didn’t need to!” Sir you have committed an offence in
defiance of our state law and this will have to be dealt with down at the main
head branch.” I’m just about (can swear?) I’m just about xxxxxx off with all
this, “I’ve done something wrong and it’s serious’ crap!” To me Customs
officers are just failed police men, and nothing I have done is that serious. I
haven’t shot anyone, or stolen anything, its just paperwork and it’s not that
serious. What can I do, I only do as I’m told, yet I’m Mr. Bad-guy. She asked
me for my passport and said “I’ll be holding on to that!” Fine…
I wish he would stop waving that Geiger
counter at my plane. I very much doubt it’s radioactive… “Look!” I said with a
raised voice, “I discussed this ESTA thing this morning with an officer Bill
and he said I didn’t need to file one as I was entering your country in a none
commercial aircraft or vessel!” I couldn’t see this little failed police
officer’s eyes behind her shades, but she replied that “We don’t have an agent
called Bill!” The guy Geigering my teddy bears now said “We have an agent
Hill!” “Hill, Bill, I don’t know it was over the phone?” Argh, now that’s change things! I’m so glad I
wrote his name down…
“Ok sir, can you arrange transport or
call a taxi to take you to our department down town?” She asked. I shrugged my
shoulders and we walked toward the terminal building. I opened the door for
her, but she refused saying “Its ok sir, after you. I never let anyone walk
behind me while I’m carrying a loaded and armed weapon!” I bet you don’t madam,
because at this rate you are going to get it rammed down… They had a big wagon,
surely they could take me down town in that, but maybe they had an anti
aircraft missile system on the back seat.
I knew about courtesy cars. They have a
spare courtesy car at most airfields so pilots can go down town. All you need to do is place a donation or
return it full of fuel. I asked if they had one and could I borrow it? This was
not a problem, I was handed the keys and told it was the green Cadillac just
outside the door. The lady agent asked if I was a safe driver? Admittedly the
though of running her over had occurred.
I followed them down town in my Cadillac
automatic and into their United States Customs building. It was a large building and built over the
main highway and dealt with the main point of entry from America to Canada and vice versa. A ‘multilane’ customs area was below. A group
of agents gathered in the middle of the room as soon as I walked into the
public side of the assessment area. They left their counters and all the other
‘Joe public holiday makers’ wondered who I was to have caused this meeting and
why was I dressed for Antarctic Survival. The discussion behind the barrier
between them went on for some time, before it broke and the lady agent asked me
to approach. Seemingly the problem was that they didn’t have my physio-metrics
on file. Finger prints and all that, so she needed to take my picture and
finger prints on a scanner. This was bull though because how, if the problem
was me just not filing an ESTA, how would I have given them my fingerprints. I
had to pay $6.00 for this and I was asked whether I wanted a receipt, “Oh yes!”
the reply. As it was being written out, I had to ask “Look, I’m for ever going
to wonder if I don’t ask, but was policeman Bill right or wrong this morning on
the phone?” “Agent Hill was not entirely correct this morning sir”. So tempting
to ask for an apology for being accused of committing an offence in defiance of
there state law… But I knew none would come so there was no point.
With a stamp in my passport and it being
handed back I could leave. “Have a nice day sir!” She embarrassingly said. I
will now I don’t have to deal with you I, I, I thought…
Ok, back at the airport and handing the
keys back, I asked if they had closed my flight plan for me. They said that
‘yes it had been done with an automated system when I landed,’ phew… Right, Jees,
I’ve got now only 3:15 hours to get to Oshkosh before it
closes for the airshow and it’s a 3:00 hour flight.
Leaving the airport was somewhat easier,
now I knew what it was called and the circuit pattern, but the engine had
hardly cooled down in the sweltering heat. I climbed out but at 2,000ft the
warning light was flashing and that was at the raised level I had set to stop
it flashing… I could see some cumulous cloud caps ahead. It was quite windy and
I thought that thermal streeting might be occurring. If I could find them I
could raise Itzy higher into cooler air using thermals rather than the engine.
It worked well and soon I was up at 4,000ft and able to lower the nose for
greater cooling speed and still not loose height with the engine on a minimal
cruise setting.
The thermals died out over Lake Michigan and so did the
tail wind as I turned south to follow the shore line. I could still use the
Canadian map for a while as it extended into America , but soon I was off the end of that. So it was time to review
my drawn map and put some places like Rippon, the start of the VFR route into Oshkosh that every one
takes, in to the GPS . I read again all 15 pages of the Oshkosh NOTAM that I
printed out in Iceland . I had hardly looked at them in case it brought bad luck. Well
now I needed them and it felt good… Music, put music on to calm the
nerves. I could hardly see the shoreline
for the murk. Still 150 miles to go.
I tuned into Oshkosh ’s Airfield
Traffic Information Service ‘ATIS ’ on 125.90 and turned the squelch right down on the radio.
“Page 8 and 12 of the NO… This is Oshkosh inf at tim” He said ‘Oshkosh info’. For the
last 42 days I’ve been trying to get there, trying my best and now I can hear Oshkosh … I listened to
the signal getting stronger for the next half an hour. I even recorded it on my
big video camera which had an audio input.
Look at the time… Must go faster… look
at the temps… Can’t go faster…
There was cloud on route that I went
below, then coastal fog crept in off Lake Michigan , but no way, none of you are stopping me this time... You’ve
tried all the time on virtually every flight, but not this time. It was too
early to turn in land but I had little choice. Dam, there was a big airport
there, better go low and south of it and hope nothing big comes along. Ok, way
to the south of the big airport I was now on track for Rippon, but quite low
now. I tried the thermaling technique again to gain more height. Rippon was 50
miles away and 35 minutes at 90 knots which is all I could do in fear of
cooking the oil. Well it was cooked already, but it just had to get me another
30 mins, that’s all. They oil pressure was down at 45 instead of 60 psi.
I changed to Fisk approach frequency
120.7 approaching Rippon as requested by the NOTAM and there was a picture of a
water tower I was supposed to be able to see to recognise the town. I heard one
aircraft turning to the tower frequency and then silence. On arrivals day on
Monday, over 5,000 aircraft arrive at Oshkosh this way. It’s
the busiest airfield in the world, by a very long way. The radio is none stop,
but I could hear nothing. You are supposed to just monitor and say nothing,
they have spotters on the ground who call up to you and ask you to rock your
wings if they’ve got you right,
There is the water tower, there is
Rippon, ok find in the murk the rail tracks to follow, well there they are… The
rail tracks lead to Fisk. 10 minutes engine, just do me 10 more minutes, I
promise a new cooler and oil, just 10 more minutes. Speed should be 90 knots at
this location, well it’s all I can do. The NOTAM mentions keeping line astern
with half a mile between aircraft, but I’m on my own up here, I’ve been very
alone up here at times. Just the flight to Hurkadalshmela in Iceland and aircraft at Sanderson, never saw them though really.
My head is full of memories, friends
I’ve made, the unfairness of the journey. I pick up Fredy my lucky mascot and
tears fall on his head because without him, I wouldn’t be here surely. I’m over
Fisk but no one is looking up anymore, why would they, who in their right mind
turns up at the biggest airshow in the world 5 minutes before it’s closed…
No one was going to see or hear me so I
called, “Fisk approach G-BYLP overhead” “Aircraft calling Fisk say again?”
“G-BYLP overhead Fisk” “Oh yeah, little white aircraft rock you wings!” I did.
“Good rock, thank you, ok runway in use 36 left hand. Contact tower on 126.60”
“Roger.” Oh wow, there it is coming out of the murk, the most amazing sight!
There are a lot of aircraft down there. I had the video camera rolling, I was
going to make a big speech. I failed. Could hardly breathe, let alone talk.
You see the last 42 days has taken years
of my life to achieve, about 10 years. I can’t be a Formula 1 driver, an
Olympic swimmer, rower or cyclist. But I can do this. You may think it easy.
But have a go at building your own plane and flying to Oshkosh , then add my
luck into the equation and, well I think it’s hard. But this approach to runway
36 that I had just been cleared to land on and at the yellow dot, indicating
half way down the runway, well this approach is my 100 meter Olympic final, my
last lap of Monaco or Silverstone, chricky, why not my small step for mankind.
It’s probably the best thing I’ll do. And did I land on the yellow dot? You bet
I did…
(That’s probably the most sentimental
sentence I’ve ever written)
Anyway, made it - made it - made it -
made it!!! Well done plane, well done engine!
“Lima Papa vacate as
soon as possible left” “Wilco.” I taxied across the grass and on to taxiway
Papa. I lifted the canopy and held up my HBC paper sign to
tell the marshals that I want to be directed to ‘Home Built Camping’. Not that
Itzy was built at home, but I know what they mean. I was marshalled on and on
towards ‘Papa 1’ and the ‘Home Built’ area. But then they turned me around and
headed me back up towards ‘Papa 2’. There was some confusion amongst them and a
John Deere Agrocat pulled up along side me and I stopped. A lady approached and
asked “Hi there, where have you come from?” “England ” I said, hoping she would believe me. “No way!” See I knew she
wouldn’t. There was some discussion between marshalers and then she came back
and said, “We are going to park you up near the Brown Arch. Would you like
that?” I pretended not to know where that is, but I knew and humbly said, “Yes
that would be nice…”
For those who don’t know, parking near
the Brown Arch is reserved for famous aircraft, well not famous aircraft, but
I’ve seen so many pictures of planes near the Brown Arch, like famous
Earthrounder Jon Johansons ‘RV4’, ‘Voyager 1’ that flew around the world none
stop and on and on.
There was a convoy of scooters and golf
carts and Agrocats following behind as I was marshalled in with about 200,000
spectators all wondering the same thing, like “Who is that and where did he
come from and why all the fuss?”
I pulled up in front of the arch well
just to one side, lets not get carried away, there were other aircraft there,
but I checked Itzy’s engine magnetos again, all present and correct, and
switched them both off. When taxing and manoeuvring you have to be in control,
with the mags switched off and the propeller stationary, you don’t and I
wasn’t. I had dared to dream this, dared so often just in case I never made it.
I mean I never expected to be hurt, but I could have lost the plane at any time
and almost did three times. Now it was not a dream. This was real, but still
too much for my fried brain. I just wanted to be on my own a while to gather
and preserve this moment and my thoughts, so I stayed in the cockpit with my
head in my hands sobbing like a baby. But I could do more of this later, there
were people waiting for me to get out.
Valerie greeted me again properly, she
was in control of this section of the flight line. She asked if there was
anything I needed, food water. I was given sandwiches and a drink. I extracted
myself from my immersion suit. Took off my thermals and put on some shorts and
a fresh T’shirt. Valerie said to grab anything I needed from the plane because we
had to leave this area for the start of the airshow and they were sort of
waiting for us. I grabbed my phone and video camera and was escorted to the
signing in tent. I met Alan, he took me through signing in. He asked me if I
was a member of the EAA, I wasn’t but thought I better join. I was given bags
of merchandise and a commemorative glass tanker and then went to mingle with
the crowd.
I’m not sure if you want to hear or read
more, I mean there, I made it…
That’s not the end of the story, not by
a long way… The rest of the day was pretty good too. But that’s where I’m going
to take a break…
Ok, I’ve had a thought about this diary.
I’ll write up to the end of the show because I’ve met some amazing people here
myself, sort of took the emphasis of me me me all the time.
So the airshow started with ‘Shaun ‘D’
Tucker’ and his Oracle Pitts. Pretty impressive and rolled on with countless
war birds, 10 – 20 Harvard T6’s and Bob Cats and B17’s and… The Ospray,
Vertical take off tilt rotor craft did a good display. But basically it was
just a blur of aircraft for 4 hours. Four jets took off from the Cold War
period, a Russian Mig chased by three American jets, one being a Saab, I didn’t
recognise the others. There had been a team of American pilots flying Russian
Yak 52’s earlier. The commentator came out with the comment, that “You may
wonder why we are able to fly these Russian aircraft and leave the Russian star
on the planes, well that’s because we won the Cold War and these aircraft are
now ours!!!” America won the cold war??? I thought that no one won it and it sort of
just fizzled out? Next came some of the middle weight bombers. There was a B17
some where, but as the Liberator flew low over the runway a line of
pyrotechnics detonated and made everyone jump and the woop with joy as all the
windows shook in their frames. Again, every time a plane flew low along the
runway, another chest moving explosion would go off. Awesome!
Anyway, the finally had arrived, being
the ‘Thunderbirds!’ Not the ones on string but F16’s of the United States Air Force. Six of them took off one at a time and began to put
on a polished display. Everyone around was waiting for this and I’d heard a lot
about them since arriving, so I suppose my expectations were built up too high.
At times, the music was more dramatical than the performance. The polished
voice of the Air Force’s commentator, building up every manoeuvre they did to
be so difficult that only these professional Air Force Pilots with all their
thousands of hours of immaculate, dedicated training could do. It was just a
bit too theatrical for me or too American. There were big gaps where nothing
was happening but loud music. But the crowd loved it and whooped and cheered
and clapped every time God Blessed America and shouted out ‘Oh yeah!’, every
time that it was explained that this type of flying and the aircraft flown went
to show that America had the most formidable, capable and best Air Force in the
world, to keep them safe. Safe from what? The crowd applauded as one by one the
planes landed and the music came to a pleasant end to complete the airshow.
As I returned to Itzy, the plane was now
surrounded by the crowd. People had moved forward again to the normal flight
line, it had only been moved back for the Thunderbird’s display. I dare go back
to the plane. I just stood there watching it being adorned by the crowds of
people. It deserved it really. It had got me here! I just flew and moved a
stick around occasionally. It was like two separate achievements. I could hide
in the crowd. Itzy couldn’t. I wanted to phone my parents and tell them I had
arrived, but I couldn’t. I knew I would never keep it together yet, if ever…
Eventually the attention Itzy was
getting died down and I could walk back out to him, her, it? But as soon as I
opened the canopy, I could see people approaching. I had to talk about building
the plane and the journey and what to do if they wanted to build one, and
people who were building KR2’s and what they were like to fly. It was little
hardship and the least I could do.
Valerie had insisted I tied the aircraft
down and returned to ask how I enjoyed the show and to make sure I tied Itzy
down. Stakes were supplied and I hammered them into the ground and tied Itzy
down. I couldn’t understand why as there was no wind, but I would do anything
for Valerie’s piece of mind. She had been so kind.
Three people had stood at the back all
the time and only really came to say hello when I had chance to step back.
There names were Pablo, Carlos and Alberto. Pablo lived in Australia and worked
for Qantas as an engineer but was born in Argentina, Carlos and Alberto quite a
bit older and his long time friends on a once in a life time trip to Oshkosh
from Argentina and Pablo was looked after them. They had met up in Chicago and hired a
motorhome to drive up here in. They were all aviation nuts like me and they’d
had a great time here and had been here all week. I asked them lots of
questions about what I had missed and Pablo filled me in. He had always liked
KR2’s all his life but said he had only seen one other all week. The KR2 is an
American design and I expected to see about 10 here. So Pablo was pleased to
see another and one that had flown in from England was just a bonus.
The night airshow began with the onset
of dark. Aircraft, helicopters the Osprey, some with lights, some with
Pyrotechnics, some with both. Two high powered Aerobatic planes took off and
pretended to dive bomb the airfield. Ever time they swhooshed low a huge
explosion went off, sending big balls of fire and then clouds of black smoke
into the air for them to dive through with the aircraft. The Americans like big
explosions as for the finally of their display a 500 meter line of explosions
was let off. Wow… That’s a lot of smoke. Four Harvard’s doing close formation
with spoke and flares a plenty then flew by. In fact there was so much smoke
and little wind, it must not have been easy for them to see and stay focussed.
The next aircraft was a helicopter, spinning around and around firing off flares
and fireworks. Finally it was too dark to see what it was, but some twin radial
engined aircraft, with so many neon lights on board it looked like a flying
saucer, did a very good display with fire and smoke trailing all the time. With
it too dark to be safe, it was time for a fireworks display to music and
blessing America again. But quite beautiful it all seemed and a fitting end to
the day of days. Itzy was lit up as the fireworks reflected in the shiny
paintwork. I tried to take artistic pictures but I think I failed. With the
final barrage of explosions, it was over and the commentator which everyone
goodnight.
Pablo asked where I was staying. I would
have put the tent by the plane, but as Itzy would be surrounded again by
tomorrow’s crowd, it didn’t seem wise. Pablo sincerely stated that they had
room in their motor home and it would be a sort of honour if I stayed with
them. The honour was all mine. Valerie retuned with the John Deer Gator and we
all climbed on board and she gave us a lift the several miles through the camp
site and crowd. I had no idea this place was so big… There were 200,000 people
staying on site, it reminded me of Glastonbury . We eventually arrived on Lindberg and 30th by the
motor home and thanked Valerie again for a wonderful reception and I let on
that I knew about the Brown Arch. She was delighted and wished us goodnight to
set off back into the crowd. Glad of the lift we entered the motor home. Carlos
cooked some potatoes and meet, unexpected but welcomed as I had hardly eaten
today. Many more questions answered for me to fill in what I had misted. Pablo
told me that Alberto had built a Tiger Moth in Argentina . No one just builds a Tiger Moth from drawings, making every
single bit, they normally rebuild a wrecked aircraft and go from there. But no,
he had built and created every last part, apart from the engine and wheels of
course. They had been having plenty of problems with the engine and wanted to
know if I knew about them. I did, but my friend Ben was a guru on them, having
dealt with the Gypsie engines all his life. I would help them more to overcome
the engine problems. But Pablo could see I was bushed and soon everyone went
their different ways in this massive motorhome and the table we were sitting at
was made into my bed.
Thought for the day: We made it!!! I
didn’t care if it was the last but one day, I could fill in with thoughts what
it would have been like, the days I had missed. But to just be part of it, if
only a little part, that was enough…
Thought for the day: We made it!!! I
didn’t care if it was the last but one day, I could fill in with thoughts what
it would have been like, the days I had missed. But to just be part of it, if
only a little part, that was enough…
Day 43. 03/Aug/2014 Lots to see in a
day!
Day score 9.
I woke with everyone, else. Wow. I was
tired. I mentioned to Pablo last night that that I hoped not to be rude but I
wanted to shoot off early, I had lots to try and see today. It was completely
understood. But I hadn’t got out the motorhome before seeing, through the open
door, in Lindberg and 32nd, a hovercraft and trailer that I
recognised. No way?! What possibility was that? I set off to say hello. The guy
was Australian and flew with Qantas. I’d introduce him to Pablo, who worked for
Qantas also. He was touring America promoting his hovercraft. For those of you who don’t know. I
race hovercraft and I’m friends of BBV , the most
established racing hovercraft team in the UK . I didn’t know the guy that well but had raced against him in Sweden and at the world championships in Towcester England . Bizarre! He’d had a good week demonstrating his hovercraft so…
Nice talking but I must set off… Back
with Itzy I realised I still hadn’t told my friends back home or my parents
that I’d arrived ok. I took my Mascot Fredypig and held him up in front of the Oshkosh 2014 Brown
Arch and took a photo. I then posted it on my Facebook page with a comment of
“He made it!” It was really for one person who I knew it would mean a lot to
back home. I then took a picture of me to also post. But the Wifi went down or
failed on my phone, so for the first day, the only people who knew who Fredy
was, knew I had arrived.
It was early and I took the chance of
lack of crowds to run around and try and take it all in. The Museum and
anything that was staying here could wait, but the trade stands were already
winding down, being their last day, but then all the last day bargains were out
to.
Anyone who is anyone was here. Four
massive building of trade stands, all sponsored. Actually there was too much
money here for me if that is possible. I had walked through a camp site full of
half million dollar motorhomes and everything on show was the lasted vastly
expensive bit of kit. There is nothing wrong with this of course, but you sort
of wondered what had happened to all the grass roots aviation? I know this is
progress, but if you just bought the same quick build kit plane and put the
latest full TV screen displays in, all the planes would cost a minimum of
£150,000 and all look the same. Itzy cost about £20,000. Some of these
instrument panels cost more than my whole plane. Anyway, flying is about
looking out the window, not looking in at a big TV screen, showing so much information
that you didn’t need to look outside, which sort of defeated the object of
having the feeling of freedom when you fly.
Oh well.
Towards the home built section was the RV stand. There are more RV
aircraft built or being built than all the makes put together, they are that
successful and popular. Then the Sonex stand. Their factory is the other side
of the runway here apparently and seemingly they had brought over the whole
factory and put it on display. Then came the Rotec stand. They were Australian
also and had copied the Jabiru mentality of making light weight aircraft
engines, but they had made a 5 and 7 cylinder radial engine and very impressive
they are too. There was a Chopper motor bike with one of their radial engines
in it, Eccentric but nicely done. They also manufacture water cooled cylinder
heads for Jabiru engines that are a lot better than the cylinder heads on Itzy.
The also make an electronic ignition module, probably better and more reliable
than the system on my aircraft right now and a better slide carburettor, giving
better fuel economy and control than the simple Bing carburettor that’s also on
Itzy now. I chatted about the journey I was on for a while. The guy listened
and seemed impressed. He knew of me actually because he remembered my flight to
Australia some years ago. He then said “Look mate, for you and only you,
and now one has had this deal this week, you can have the heads and the carb
for $2,000 and I’ll throw in the electronic ignition!” Wow. It was the deal of
the week, month year. I said I would go and think about it.
Ok, I could do with all those parts,
they would make Itzy more reliable, more efficient and more powerful. But then
I had just rebuilt the heads before leaving and the ignition I had worked and
so did the carb. And I didn’t have $2,000 left.
It had cost me £4,800 to get here and I
still had some travelling to do around America . I could always see later. I could even get sponsorship out of
Rotec later maybe?
The home built section was all RV
aircraft, and not that interesting as they are all the same which disappointed
me some what... So I continued on and walked out to the war bird section. I
came across ‘Glacier Girl’, the p38 Lightening they had recovered from the Greenland Icecap near
Kulusuk. This was all brill, but the sky had gone black behind us and I though
it might be wise to walk back towards possible cover.
Hum, very black and it started raining
and it got a little windy. I ran to the cover of the VIP tent, the
guards were helpless due to the number of people running from the cloud burst
and here I could see Itzy just 80 meters out there. It rained and rained
heavier and heavier until I could no longer see Itzy. Then the wind really hit,
blowing down some of the marquee and blowing all the white plastic chairs
outside over and some away over the airfield. If this gets any worse I’m going
to have to run out and get very wet and sit trying to hold Itzy down. It got
worse, the rain was going side wards, you could hear crashing of marquees and
leaves and branches broke off the trees and came flying down. But Itzy just sat
there not moving. Not sure if it was the tie downs working well or if the small
wings make it difficult to lift. It must have been the tie downs because
everything else was flying around outside. The rain was spraying all through
this VIP marquee from the lifted up sides. There was no shelter from
anywhere and everyone and everything was getting wet. But the storm past and
things calmed down and half an hour later, everything was put back up or in
place. The only difference was the flooding outside.
I walked to the other extremity of the
airfield now, only halted by another little storm, sending people running
mostly to the Honda Jet huge marquee. There was panic actually as the people
waded through the floods outside.
I’m waffling now really. Look come
yourself, the place is just awesome as I’ve learnt to say as I headed for the
vintage aircraft hangars and section. Food drinks and ice-cream everywhere as
the crowds gather again for this afternoon’s airshow. Right at the far end of
the runway was a separate little micro-light strip for them to operate off and
to the west Bell helicopters like the ones you saw on MASH, were continually
busy with pleasure flights. So was the Ford Tri Motors, they had been flying
around continually all day, except for the storm.
Oh I needed to phone my parents and tell
them I was here. I thought I could hold it all together now. How wrong was I.
But at least they knew I was here and safe and enjoying it.
The airshow was similar to yesterday but
not as complex or explosive. The Thunderbirds were again the finally. Same
patriotism as yesterday and Music. The airshow was shorter to allow aircraft to
leave and as soon as the Thunderbirds shut down, lines of taxiing aircraft
began. I watched, feeling quite sad that the airport was emptying out. The show
was over and people were going home. The trade stands were closing up and I’d
only just got here.
I ran back to the main show rooms and
bought some radio headset cables, the ones I had were getting old and dodgy. I
found out where to get my Artificial Horizon fixed, I had promised I’d fix it
if it kept working and it sort of has. I found out where to get a new screen
for the radio display and I found a store selling maps. No it can’t be denied
that I thought I would be tripping over maps everywhere. But no one seems to
stoke them. They must all be flying round on moving map GPS ’s or buy them
on line. This store boasted the most rugged of maps. Maybe they should supply Iceland ’s, which had fallen apart in one flight. There were 37 in total
and since I might be doing a lot of flying around America in the next months, I thought I would buy them all. He had run
out of 5 maps so that was only 32. They were normally $9.99. On special offer
at the show for $8.00 but if I bought them all he would do them for $200. I
needed them and this was a bargain. So I walked away with 32 maps or charts I
think they call them.
I thought I would run up to the museum
and see the full extremity of the airfield. It was big and went on and on. I
found the Theatre in the woods which had held many a forum and also saw that
they had an outside film theatre every night, put on by the Ford motor company,
who had a big stand amongst all the corporate jet stands. Some great films had
been shown that I had yet to see, dam! The museum was miles away but I was soon
there, taking as much water as I needed from the bottles discarded everywhere,
and it was hot... The EAA museum and headquarters is a massive building. It
would be open all week so I could see inside later. There was a Kids zone with
young people playing outside over in Pioneer Airfield section, an area of old
vintage style hangars and since it was the only sign of life, except for some
caterers who seemed to have eaten most of their food themselves, I headed
towards the children playing football, or soccer as its known here..
There was a chapel of remembrance and a
little hill to climb with signs every 100 yards around the path to the top,
explaining the history of the EAA. Just about gone dark by now as I wondered
through the EAA grounds. I came across a marquee and a lot of people. It was
the volunteer’s end of ‘Airventure’ Party. There was beer and food flowing
everywhere. I didn’t dare, but I eventually asked a guy what was going on. He
explained what it was and said to go grab some food as there was plenty of it.
Done!!!
Later I found him to ask another
question. Itzy was still out on the flight line and I needed to know where to move
him to. “Hey are you that English guy with the KR2?” “Yep!” Names names names
but he was from the International arrivals department and wanted to know why I
hadn’t been to see him. I wasn’t told to when I registered, but I told him I
think it was all a bit late in the day, so.
His wife told me that, “Someone wants to meet you!” I was led to meet
Charlie Becker. He was the director of the EAA museum and communications. I
asked him where I could move Itzy to and he said, the plane would be fine there
for a few days and not to worry. He asked if I’d eaten and if I had somewhere
to stay. I was fine and in fact I better get back. I hadn’t arranged anything
with Pablo, but they said I was welcome to stay there again and I thought it
rude not to return and to just disappear. So I said by goodnights and headed
off into the night, back towards the camp site. This place is huge… Charlie
would like me to write an article…
Back at the motorhome I was welcomed. It
wasn’t that late actually? Back down here it gets darker earlier. They had
saved some food for me. I dare say I’d stuffed my face at the volunteer’s party
so I sat to eat. We spent hours talking of what there was here. They agreed I’d
done well to see so much in a day. I told them about meeting Charlie and that I
thought everything would be ok…
Pablo showed me pictures of Alberto’s
Tiger Moth and a short video of him being interviewed by Argentinean TV about
it. I was still amazed by the fact he built one from scratch. It was being
rebuilt though because of the engine problems forced a landing and it tipped
over when touching the ground. He was not alone, I told him of the many stories
about Tiger Moth crashes that I know. Ben is rebuilding two at the moment and
had rebuilt many. Pablo told me that Alberto knew of brand new Gypsie engines
still in boxes. I told them how much they are worth in the UK . They were for sale? But I said we would only want to buy them
because we wanted to sell them on for a profit… It was rude to be interested in
them. Alberto then invited myself and Ben to fly out to Argentina if we would come and look over his engine to make it reliable.
Wow… I knew Ben wanted to go to Argentina for something so I said I would definitely get back to them on
that one. Carlos’s English language was not so good but I’m sure he was the
dark horse of the group, Alberto was the practical joker of the three, but he
could not speak too well because he’d had a tracheotomy and Pablo did well to
understand and translate. I can play and know a few jokes though to, so I got
on well with them all.
I promised them a copy of my DVD , I’d get it
for them first thing tomorrow.
Thought for the day: Shame it’s all over
and sad, but glad a got a taste for it all.
Day 44. 04/Aug/2014 Bikes and
coolers. Day score
10.
The guys needed to set off early to get
the motorhome back and then be three hours ahead of the flight time, so I ran
down and got them a DVD of my Australia trip out of the aircraft and ran back. Photos were taken and
fond farewells. It was amazing luck that Pablo had just caught the tail of Itzy
with KR2 on it as they walked through the crowds or we may have never met and
had such a good time.
I waved them goodbye as they set off.
Down by the flight line again with Itzy,
I met an elderly gent called Dennis. He was partly responsible for taking
things down and tidying up around the Brown Arch. The Thunderbirds departed, as
did a lot of the other military aircraft and war birds and Dennis and I got
chatting, as you do. It was Monday, the post office would be open and I could
go and get my bike. I asked Dennis where the post office was and he pointed to
a brown building on the other side of the airfield. He said he would give me a
lift round if I liked, but I could see they were busy so I declined and set off
to walk. About half way round near some buildings, Dennis drove past again in
his John Deer Gator. He said he was going to the other side of the airfield to
help his wife with the bags from the hotel as they were on the second floor and
to jump on. This I did and soon I was lifting suitcases down the stairs and
loading them in their car. His wife Judy was not busy so she ran me round to
the post office and I picked up my box. They USPS had it in their stores for
some time and they were glad to see it going to its owner. When I posted it,
the box was square, now it was squished and ripped open a little. I hoped it
was all still in there.
Back at the airfield I helped Dennis for
the rest of the day just doing whatever he needed to be done, in thanks for him
helping with the bike box.
The volunteers all get fed and watered
and there were vast quantities of water, Soda and food to be collected in from
all over and re-distributed. Chairs needed moving, buildings checked, coolers
and fridges off with doors jammed open. I helped load his trailer up and return
some of the excess golf buggies. They rent golf buggies for the show. There
were over 1,000 of them. At least 200 Gators and 200 mopeds, all to be cleaned and
go back into storage for another year. I mentioned my broken cooler and because
we had done so well and Dennis now had some spare time, he took me to a couple
of Motor Factors to try and find one. But none of them had this oil cooler as
it was so small. We went round and had a look at Bezler, they do the PT6 gas
turbine conversions on the DC3’s and in their back compound lay countless DC3’s
of all states and conditions either waiting to be converted or just robbed of
any useful parts left. It was so sad to see DC3 fuselages lying side by side of
in the woods. We ended up with a tour of the Fox Flight Engineering Academy , when stopping to ask where this unique racing team supplier’s
was. It was just across the road. They
called it the Fox Academy because it’s the River Fox that flows through Oshkosh town, linking
the near by lakes with Lake Michigan . At the race car suppliers, they didn’t have an oil cooler
either and a few phone calls around proved we were not likely to find one in
the country. Not a problem, as long as I knew, I would just order one from home
now.
Back at Dennis’s base, Judy had stock
piled me some food and Soda’s for the next few days as a thank you. I was told
I could pitch my tent there as it would not be in the way and everything was
alright. I thanked them both for all their help today, but they thanked me for
making their day easier. It had been a pleasure. I waved them off home as they
had a three hour drive south.
The only activity left was a load of
guys finishing of a Zenith kit plane that had been built in one week, all by
volunteers at the show. It was basically finished and I saw it taxiing
yesterday, just a few teething problems. I helped them a little so that I could
sign my name on the plane, like several other hundred people had also. It was
finished but not painted yet, of course.
I found that the large lean to, on the
end of the home builder’s centre, where I had booked in, was still open. Well
neither door could be locked. It had large open netted windows and benches and
power sockets and wifi. I could just sit here and catch up with all the events
I needed to. This was perfect as I could lay out all my paperwork and sort out
everything I needed to keep or send home.
There were cardboard boxes stroon all
over the place, so I gathered some up and took everything out of the plane and
brought over the box with my mountain bike in. All I had with me on this trip
was now in one well vented cool room. All I had to do was sort it out.
Thought for the day: Dennis and Judy were
lovely. I really enjoyed the day. It’s awfully quiet now though.
Day 45. 05/Aug/2014 Will it fly won’t
it.
Day score 8.
In the morning, they were still playing
with the Zenith. Engine runs and so on. Charlie Becker was there again. He said
not to worry about anything and just make yourself at home. So indeed I did. I
sat in my ‘quite large’ shelter and watched the B17 Flying Fortress doing
circuits and the Swallows, who had nested from a suspended light in the front
porch. The EAA guys and girls had strung up a little platform underneath the
nest so their mess didn’t fall on anyone. Some of the four babies were having
their first maiden flights.
I ordered a new oil cooler, which was a
pain since my credit card and address here did not tie up. Hopefully it’s on
its way.
I opened the box with my bike in. It was
all still in there, rapped in the many towels and rags I had brought along for
it. I put it back together, which cheered me up. It’s sad to watch everything
getting taken down. With the bike back together, I went pilfering for more
water and soda and food, it was left about everywhere.
I took time to get to know some of the
security staff. I might be here some time, so I thought it wise. One of the
ladies had never seen pound notes so I went through our money with them and
shared some calenderers I had found. But soon I returned, to continue sorting
photos paperwork and the dreaded diary.
Thought for the day: Strangely I’m in no
rush. I just need to reflect and quantify and resolve issue at a steady pace
and recover somewhat.
Day 46. 06/Aug/2014 Paper Scissors
Stone.
Day score 5.
More paperwork, today I did the
accounts. It cost £4,488 to get here, 1/3rd of that was spent in
three days in Greenland .
Later I took a ride out to Subway for
dinner. I also rode out to buy some clear fablon and some blue starry fablon. I
bought some scissors as well, now I can cut out some template KR2 stickers a
couple of inches across. I would have stuck them on the door at Narsarsuaq if I
could. I love the bike…
Thought for the day: My co-inhabitants
are not happy with my presence, but hey ho. I think all the four young birds
have now flown as the nest was empty earlier. They all come back at night. I
can see fireworks off in the distance… I sort of get a bit upset about people
having a better time than me… But that’s life, and writing my reports isn’t
that bad. Feel quite alone though again at nights.
Day 47. 07/Aug/2014 Time to go…
Day score 6.
It was time to move the plane today. It
was the only one left out there. I took the opportunity to move it right up to
the Brown Arch and took plenty of photos. All the tedds got their Brown Arch
photo as well. I pulled the aircraft 200 meters closer to my Home Built
headquarters base.
With the scissors and clear fablon, I
could cut out and mount all the stickers from the various locations I’ve
stopped or stayed in. It made me quite proud of the friends I had made, except
for the Kulusuk stickers, which was a shame because it was quite nice.
There is one of the three young swallows
who can’t fly like the other rest. Is fines it hard. I’m not sure if it
deformed, or weaker or what but he or she struggles to fly. I put some apple
cake out for it, in case it gets ignored or left behind during the daily
sorties by the others. Certainly loud enough.
Later in the day I took a ride out to
the EAA maintenance hangar. They call it the
Kermit Meek’s hangar, because I think he must have sponsored itt. Kirmet
Meeks has his own collection of War Birds down in Florida . A War Bird
can be any aircraft that was flown through either the first, second or Korean
or Cold war, but they are normally 40 to 60 years old now.
I
met Olivia at the front desk and she invited me in to have a look around.
Inside there were the two Ford Tri Motors, various Aerobatic aircraft from the
airshow, a spitfire Mark 12 that had a damaged rudder because some one put the
tow arm on upside down and bent the rudder when towing it. The Zenith Build in
a week was now in here and outside were the B17 and a couple of Harvard
T6’s. I asked John, the hangar foreman
if it would be Ok to change my oil cooler over here when ever it turns up. I
wanted to change the oil as well as it had no doubt been cooked on the way
here. Nothing would be a problem and I could bring Itzy over anytime. Brill!
I hooked into their Wifi while I was
there. No sign of the oil cooler yet. I had swapped emails with the company I
bought it of saying Fedex didn’t recognise the address. Well the box with the
bike in got here and it was a straight copy from the USPS web site. So I knew
it had been delayed. But…
I rode out into to town through the
suburbs of square blocks and straight toads. This was either an affluent town
or America and Canada was all like this, which means I should move... The houses were
big along with the cars and the jet boats and quad bikes. But the security
guards looking after the Honda Jet marquee said it was a rough town with a
drugs problem? I came across ‘South Park ’ street. It’s an American comedy cartoon show that I really
enjoy watching.
The centre of town and down by the River
Fox, which split the town in two was quite stunning. The river narrows between
Lake Butte Des Morts, which leads all the way back up north to Canada and Lake
Winnebago, which leads on to Lake Michigan. Well here where it narrowed it was
crossed by many bridges, well that was quite beautiful to. There were little
quays next to the coffee shops and motor boats were moored up everywhere, with
their occupants all enjoying the sun. I rode out to the Lake Winnebago . I had read
signs that the County Fair was on at the Winnebago County Park . I knew it was north of the city and I must have been more than
half way there now so I decided to ride out and take in whatever was there. I
had to take directions as I didn’t want to ride out miles the wrong way, but I
went wrong, and ended up riding through some retirement home gardens. Luckily
as I exited, there was the Show Ground. $12 to get in and there were horse
displays, dog handling displays, food stall, a large enough fun park with all
the usual rides, there was a small rodeo, but I got there a little late and the
evenings entertainment was a ‘Tractor Pull’ in the main arena which was also
the towns speedway or banger race track for want of a better word. I chained my
bike to the railing and went to sit in the stalls out of the evening sun. A
tractor pull is where you take different classes of tractor and they have to
pull a sledge with a massive weight on it, as they progress along the 150 meter
track the weight moved forward and the sledge digs in more and eventually
becomes immovable. The tractor stops or skids and they measure the distance.
Before it started there was as ever the
parade of honour, the Beauty Queens were paraded but the judges must have been
bribed and a lady sang the Stars and Stripes just, while everyone stood with
their hand to their heart. I know that sounds very cynical, maybe I’m a cynical
person, but poor God can only Bless America so many times before he gets a bit miffed about doing it?
The two guys behind me were talking
sense and not long after we introduced ourselves. There was Scott and Dean,
Scott was a construction manager who looked after building sites being built
and used. Seemingly many companies just lease the building and the building is
maintained by someone else. Dean was a dairy farmer and new his tractors. At
last a chance to chat to people who really knew the area well and I must have
bored them with my many questions. I wanted to go and check my bike was still
there, but Scott said that I wouldn’t have needed to chain it up. I asked why
and he said the people who were here tonight were good honest working type of
people and they knew it wasn’t there bike and they would leave it alone… Wow.
Go further south, he explained and chains and concrete wouldn’t save it. The
discussion on politics was very interesting also. I put there anguished minds
at rest saying it was similar all over the world. I explained our tax system
and how many people work contracts now because of working rules. Scott’s family
were some where Scandinavian having a surname of Halvorson and he knew about
there tax system. Dean’s farming way off
life was fascinating. He was a dairy farmer but grew a lot of crops, because he
fed a lot of his young calves as they grew up to then hand them over to the dairy
farms. I think the size and nature of his farm would dwarf any back home. I
told him we had no dairy farms now because we could import cheaper Polish milk.
Now that was getting expensive with the catch up of wages in Eastern Europe, it
was too late, many of the British dairy herds had gone and they don’t come back
easily.
I mentioned my aircraft at Oshkosh and they
couldn’t believe my flight over here. They both had flown, Scott quite a lot
and he was going to Reno . I said I would meet him there… Small world! They asked how I
paid for such a journey and I explained about the minimal costs actually if you
stick to the 100 day rule. But then I had to go as the sun was setting, but the
tractor pull was just getting exciting with the more powerful tractors now
starting. Dean said I could put the bike in the back of his truck and they
would give me a lift back? Tempting but I couldn’t really ask that much. But
then the tractor pull, and it was a long way back, in the dark and my legs were
tired. So I accepted. After the show we took highway 41 back to the airfield. I
knew which gates would be opened and I invited them to see the plane, not to
get a door to door service, honestly. I did this because when people actually
see the plane for real, they always say “Wow, it really is small!” as if my
explanations were never enough. With photos took, the both disappeared in to
the night. Thanks guys, that was a brilliant evening.
When I got back, the swallow family were
back in their nest, but the poor little swallow, who found it difficult to fly
was on the ground. I went to pick him up, I and other people had done it
before, but he flew of into the dark. Dam. On the wet grass it would never
survive, so I had to get a torch and look for it. I flattened that torch and
got another much brighter one. Fearful that the ‘All Seeing Eye’ like in the
‘Lord of the Rings’ trilogy, in the large control tower - just back a little,
would wonder what the light was, I had to do it in stealth mode. Eventually I
saw it near a marquee. I scooped it up, much to its annoyance and fear of being
killed and placed it on the little table suspended below the nest. You could
sense the fear of the other swallows, even though I had turned the torch off,
followed by an ‘Oh?’ he placed the other one back. You could hear them then
talking to each other once I had sat back inside by this laptop. From going to
so much good company to silence and an empty airfield again was too much, so
Indian Jones came to the rescue to take my mind off this until my phone was
charged and I needed sleep.
Thought for the day: Why is there always
one, never any fully successful stories around me. Poor little swallow. Why
can’t he survive and fly as effortlessly as his brothers and sisters now are?
Day 48. 08/Aug/2014 More paperwork. But its
sterling stuff. Day score 4.
The little swallow has flown off… Well
it’s definitely not there. All it needs to do is grow stronger, it may not be
the best flyer, but I’m sure it could adapt.
All the paper work is sorted now. I just
need to finish the diary so I can put the flight plans and paperwork for that
part of the journey away and box it to send home.
Argh!!! They have turned the internet
off. Dam, it was so useful. I don’t really need it desperately and apparently
it’s still on at the Red Barn and Andy’s service centre, just all these remote
spots have been turned off. I never caught up with any news from home… I’m
really friendly now with all the security guards and the last of the
volunteers, who will be departing this weekend. I also have become friends with
Andy and Dennis, Andy is a full time employee of the airfield here, which is
run by the EAA.
I think it was time for a break and to
go and see the EAA museum. I rode up there. It was free entry to members. I am
now one… Oh dear, this is going to be silly. From the entry foyer roof were
suspended 3 Christen Eagle Aerobatic bi planes and two of the first original
Pitts Specials that would the Aerobatic world championships. Why were they
hanging from the roof, in a vertical display of three admittedly, but what I
would do to own and fly such a plane back home and here they have them spare to
display in a foyer???
I walked around quickly to see how big
it was and decided how much time I should spend and where. It was big. I
started in the War Bird section. Fascinating…There was a mock up or spare
nuclear bomb that they dropped on Hiroshima and the documentation that went
with the decision path and justification to use such a weapon in the secret
weapon section. And quite what the battle for Mid Way and the pacific has quite
to do with the EAA, I’m not sure.
Next I took in the early flight and
history of flight section. But we all know about the Wright Flyer and
Lindberg’s Spirit of St. Louis . The only link with these aircraft and the EAA was that the EAA
had made flying replicas of these famous aircraft.
The experimental area was much more
interesting. Dominating the auditorium were the array of imaginative and
ingenuative aircraft from Dick and Burt Rutan. There were so many from, the
earlier craft through the canards to Voyager, first aircraft around the world
non stop (6 days) to finally a copy of SpaceShipOne. Not sure quite what three
involvement was in that, I think their company made the mother launch ship. It
was to win the $10.000,000 ‘X’ prize for creating the first commercial reusable
space ship. There were many other firsts in the hangar and prototypes. The
first RV series aircraft were there, and one off’s, like the smallest plane to
fly with about 4 foot wings and the first car/plane, what ever you want to call
that. A car with wings sort of thing. Now, hung on the wall was a Thorpe T-18,
the first home built aircraft to fly around the world. Dam! Its been done then…
Oh well. The guy was mad and really quite old to try and achieve all of what he
had done. He had a very big fuel tank sitting on the passenger seat. His
longest flight was from Hawaii to California . It was 2,394 miles and took him 16 hours and 45 minutes.
Mad??? You see people say what I’m trying to do is a bit mad, but compared to
other people. I think I’m staying completely sane!
The kid area was fun and the historical
area was also excellent.
The EAA was set up by Paul and Audrey
Poberezny from their house in Hales Corner? I wonder why it was called that and
if it has a link with my family name? Anyway they had the Post-box that all the
mail arrived in, encased in glass there along with the typewriter that Audrey
and Paul responded with. The Americans are very good at keeping hold of their
history and displaying it. Maybe because they haven’t got that much? Ours is
spread to thin and nothing is preserved for prosperity.
It was closing time, but I think I did
the museum justice, I can always return any time if I feel so inclined.
I rode out to subway again, where there
is free internet. No sign of an oil cooler yet and no sign of a tracking number
that I’ve constantly asked for. How will
I know it’s turned up except living at the post office, if I can’t track it…
You just want a guy to do a decent job. It’s a company called Demon Tweeks. I
was dealing with the international sales teem. Sure it is obvious to them that
I need to track it??? Idiots…
On the way back I noticed a stadium that
I hadn’t seen before. Was it coming down from Airventure? No it seemed to be
going up. There was a lot of plugging in and lifting of speakers. This was a
huge stadium or arena or stage? Was Gun’s and Roses going to play there? I
asked a few people, but they did not know, they were either just security or
just putting it up… I headed back home… The EAA site is now looking more like a
bomb site. Some Marquees are coming down but there are still quite a lot left
up?
The swallows are back, seemingly all of
them, it looks like rain and they are not so stupid.
Thought for the day: I hope the little
swallow has rejoined its family tonight. It would be about the first thing I
had helped nurture back to health.
Day 49. 09/Aug/2014 Something big is
about to happen! Day
score 9.
More diary and I really need to get that
Dawn to Dusk competition report completed if not printed or it won’t be
excepted in the competition... Maybe I can email it to someone to print out and
send in from home? A guy walked in wanting to know if he could plug his drill
in to charge it. I told him it was not my building or power, but to go ahead.
His name was Gene, not sure of the spelling, but… I walked out with him. He and
his brother, called Bob, had been given the job to dismantle one of the small
aircraft that had been parked outside for static display, while the hangars
were used for forums or workshops. The aircraft were steadily going back in to
where they belonged, under good storage, but I have to admit, it’s all taking a
lot longer than I though.
This little unrecognised by plane
belonged to a school or college where it had originally been built and Bob and
Gene had to load it on a trailer and return it to the college, so as it could
be re-furbed a bit and either hung up or looked after better than being left
outside. It looked quite a sorry little biplane. Researching a little further,
this was a one off. The school or college had designed it and built it. It
wasn’t a kit, it was a one off aircraft. Wow! This needed to be looked after… I
helped them finish taking off the lower wings, which were just hold on by
almost nails or tiny bolts in big holes and then loading it on to their
trailer. I found them some discarded carpet underlay. Its’ everywhere, there
are masses of it at the corner of every dismantled marquee. This we used to
place on the trailer and then rap the wings up in it before tying them down. It
all went very well and the plane was secured quickly and thanked me, but it was
a pleasure. We had chatted at length about politics and human nature. It was a
brill conversation. They set off and I needed to get back to this report… Shame
it won’t write itself.
Some guy on a fork lift truck has just
walked up to my tent and half packed it away, rolled the rest up and pushed it
to one side, then got back on his truck and drove off. I can see my tent but
its half a mile away. I better go and get it.
I knew it… He’s broke some of the poles
in his roughness and haste. So what the hell was that for??? I’ll try and get
them glued back together or renewed.
I rode out to the Kermit Meeks hangar to
use there internet if anything else and possibly shout at the Demon Tweeks guys
I’d emailed and phoned regularly demanding a Tracking number. There was no
tracking number in my email inbox, so I got on the phone. The guy was almost
giving me grief about it, saying “Hang on hang on, I’ll try and see what’s
going on here! I knew what was going on, they were not doing their job
properly, that’s what was going on. He stated the old chestnut that his
colleague had dealt with this order. I do not care, just give me a tracking
number. I was given one, which wasn’t hard and put the phone down on them as if
I was not impressed. I tracked it with the help of Olivia’s computer. The
cooler was in Germany ? Brill. I’m free for the weekend then…
In the evening I went to check up on the
stadium and find out what is about to occur. “Pathfinders”, a global gathering
of venture girl guides and scouts, but with a religious theme or twist. Its
going to be called the “International Pathfinders Camporee!” It’s held every
five years, this is the 8th time its been held and the 4th time
at Oshkosh . They use the facilities and marquees that are left over from
the EAA Airventure… That is why not
everything has been taken down…
The venture leader I was talking to, who
was setting up his camp before his group of children arrived, said that they
are all associated with the ‘Seventh day Adventist Church ? Each year there is a theme chosen and this year it is the
preaching and story of Daniel? I was lost… He was ‘Forever Faithful’ to his
lord Jesus Christ and that was the theme name for the Camp, “Forever Faithful!”
Completely lost! The stage was being set for performances of Daniels story. The
first being ‘Daniel in the lion’s den’. That’s the one where Daniel meets a
lion with a thorn in his paw and Daniel pulls it out. When Daniel gets thrown
to the lions, by the Romans I suppose, it’s the same lion who remembers his
kindness and won’t eat him and everyone is happy and has a party. The guy
explaining this wanted to make the point that this story was true because it
actually ties up with what is recorded in history. I wanted to ask “And the
rest of the bible doesn’t then?” But he had been kind to explain all this to
me, and I thanked him and rode back to town for food. Wow… Apparently there
could be 40,000 of them and they arrive on Tuesday the 12th…
Ok, I have to try Hardee’s as its
nearest and cheap and cheerful. I had a chicken Sandwich and Coke. It
looks as if, from copies of their old posters of Burgers for 15 cents and
1960’s cars, that that they have been around for some time.
Thought for the day: Its all go… I must
go as well, but no oil cooler and still plenty to see…
Day 50. 10/Aug/2014 Pioneer heaven…
Day score 10.
I had to break up the monotony of the
diary and the paperwork, so about 2.pm I rode up to the Pioneer Airfield
hangars. The first hangar was entitled the Wittman Hangar. Now, my friend has a
Wittman Tailwind back in the UK , but I didn’t realise this Wittman was the same guy. He had a
really poor eye, but refused to let it hold him back. He built his own aircraft
from ideas and a motorbike engine when he was 18. It was called ‘The Hardly’ or
something like that, because it could hardly fly and it crashed on an early
flight. But this guy was a prolific builder, back in the 50,s pushing out
aircraft after aircraft, designing new concepts and thoughts. He developed
aircraft to air race them and was very successful himself. He was based here
and indeed, even though the event is called the EAA Oshkosh Airventure,
the airfield is Wittman Regional Airport . Well I never… The hangar was full of his prototypes…
The next hangar was the Peitenpol
hangar, the original hangar, taken down and moved here. Mr Peitenpol wanted to
design a very safe, easy to fly, easy to build, cheap aircraft. He took a high
wing, boxy design and placed Henry Fords Model T
engine on the front, as at the time they
were kicking about all over the place. But with the radiator in front of the
pilot and engine sticking out high, you couldn’t see forward. Anyway, the
design is still very popular today, but with more available and sympathetic
engines.
The next hangar had unique and
significant aircraft. One aircraft, the Travel Air E-400, The Travel Air company
was founded by Clyde Cessna, Lloyd Stearman and Walter Beech. These names all
feature in the aircraft that a lot of people fly around in today.
The next hangar was the Pitcairn hangar.
Again a very prolific designer of aircraft, creating the first planes to
successfully carry airmail. He seems to have been hard done by though and the
war seemed to have got in the way of a lot of these people aircraft empires.
Finally was the Ryan hangar. Ryan was
the only aircraft company that replied positively to Charles Lindberg’s letter
requesting weather they could build a plane that could cross the Atlantic . 6 weeks after
arriving, Lindberg flew away with his aircraft for trials and soon crossed the Atlantic . There was a
big race on due to another large reward or prize for the first solo crossing of
the Atlantic . Lindberg did it about a week before others tried. Most of the
others crashed and died trying… But you don’t hear of them and I’ve forgotten
their names already.
He arrived over Paris in the dark,
at night. It would scare me, how could he navigate to the airfield, but
apparently there were thousands of cars lining the runway a few miles north of
Paris and he couldn’t miss it. People tore fabric off the plane as a souvenir
and almost tour Lindberg apart as well, he had to be rescued from the crowd.
I rode out for Hardee’s again and
returned to check up on the stage and arena. Very impressive! They were
rehearsing though now and I got asked to leave by security.
Thought for the day: The tour of the Pioneers Airport and hangars has filled in a big gap in my aeronautical
knowledge. I did enjoy today…
Day 51. 11/Aug/2014 Planning ahead.
Day score 9.
Dennis, one of the many volunteers,
still cleaning the million scooters they used during the EAA Airventure, before
putting them into winter storage, along with VW beetles and countless golf
buggies, well Dennis stopped me as I was riding out. He said he used to live
over by Reno and if I had the maps he would go through them with me and
select a route. I said a definite yes, but I would be back later. I wanted to
go see if my oil cooler had turned up.
It was Monday today, the post office was
open again! So I rode through a herd of young people who had started arriving
already, up to the Big Red Barn to get some food. The Big Red Barn was open
again, acting as a supply store for all the new camping arrivals. If you wanted
bulk quantities, to feed an army, it was ok, but nothing much in there for me…
I wanted to see inside though all the same, as I had missed it during EAA
Airventure. The cue of arriving coaches full of enthusiastic pathfinders was
about a mile long now. I dropped in to the Kermit Meeks EAA maintenance hangar
to sponge some wifi off them and to see if Demon Tweeks and Fedex had managed
to get my oil cooler closer than Germany .
It had arrived! I rode to the post
office to pick it up. It seems Ok? Back at the Meeks hangar Olivia introduced
me again to John, the hangar foreman. He said I could taxi over here tomorrow
to fit it…Sorted. I went to Hardee’s again for lunch dinner and to ‘Target
Supermarket’, for coke and cookies and ice-cream and a DVD to cheer me
up. The queue on the way back was now 3 miles. Thank goodness I was on my bike.
Past security, just don’t stop. So that is what a camp of 46,000 kids looks
like. Manic… Pure bedlam, and they haven’t all arrived yet.
I found Dennis again and we sat through
the maps I bought and roughly set a route. I have to cross the Rockies and they are
quite high apparently, 12,000ft in places, higher than Greenland . But there is
a valley north of Salt Lake City where everyone goes through, its only about
6,000ft and 8,000ft would see you safely through. But Dennis said to go in the
morning, because of thermic turbulence later in the day. That was brill Dennis,
thanks. I headed back as rain was on its way. It was forecast, there is a front
going through tonight, with imbedded Cu-nim thunderstorms. That will be fun for
all those happy campers.
The DVD I bought is so
apt. It was in the $5 bargain section. It’s called “Paul”. Two English guys
come to America to go to a weird comic sci-fi convention. Then they hire a
motorhome to tour America and all the Alien encounter sites. They actually come across an
Alien called Paul? They befriend him and help him get to Devils Tower , the funny shaped rock that is at the end of “Close Encounters”
and the very place I asked Dennis to point out as I want to fly past it on my
way to Reno … Weird. I laughed a lot tonight. The Swallows are back. I wish
I could see six, two adults and four kids, one with a bit of an awkward flying
style, but who knows. I saw five… They were back because they knew it was about
to rain…
Thought for the day: Itzy is getting the
wash I promised him. It is heaving down. The fields are flooded again and the
wind is howling. Of those 46,000 kids 10,000 will have been washed away, and
20,000 will be soaked through. It will be a lake and mud bath. They will all
want to be going home tomorrow. With all the religious good will and emotional
emphasis on believing in the bible to their degree, well their weather Gods
have not been very good to them tonight. The weather is supposed to be better
for the rest of the week. I want to stay around and look around this ‘Pathfinder
Camporee’ though as it looks interesting. All the different activities I’ve
seen them set up for the kids, I’d like to have a go at some of them myself.
Thought for the day: I have an oil
cooler! Poor kids. It’s a nasty night.
Day 52. 12/Aug/2014 Different aircraft, different purpose. Day score 10.
More paperwork, more diary. Getting
close to the end. I won’t tell you where I am or you will think I’m making it
al up. I’m not, I’m using pieces of paper and photos to try and remember. Names
I have a problem with, events I do not…
About midday though the weather had improved and all the low cloud from last
nights storm cleared. I pulled Itzy out to P1 and called up Oshkosh Ground. I
requested permission to taxi to the Kermit Meeks hangar and it was given.
I pulled up by the hangar. John was
there and Charlie Becker, still playing with the build in a week Zenith. I
started work right away explaining I had all the tools necessary. All I didn’t
have is somewhere to poor the waist oil in to for the engine oil change. It
would have only taken an hour or so, but four later and I’m done. I’d been
talking to everyone and got shown around the Ford Tri Motors by the guy who
looks after them and had the whole hangar ethos explained to me at length. Just
as they were closing up, s couple of young instructors came over to talk about
my KR2. They were going flying and asked if would hang around for an hour so
they could talk more. The least I could do I thought. Before John and his crew
left, they had been changing a main wheel on the B17 Flying Fortress, I asked
if it was ok to push my aircraft closer to take pictures. Of course it was ok,
I just thought it rude not to ask. I took some thought provoking photos. Two
aircraft, very very far apart with their purpose and design. A heavy, powerful,
four engined bomber, designed for destruction and a light weight, single
engined, homebuilt, designed for putting a smile on peoples faces.
The young instructors returned in the
lightweight Cessna craft. I know of them but I’ve never seen one in the UK . They were low time pilots wanting to build hours to gain a
commercial license, just like I was. They wanted to build a KR2 because it was
cheap, easy and really fast. I had to put them right. We spent about an hour
going over the ins and outs of building aircraft instead of working hard and
buying into one. I was as honest as I could be, gave what I thought was good,
original, thought provoking views, to make sure they researched hard all other
options. With a shake of hands and more photos, it was time to taxi Itzy back
to
my ‘Home Built Aircraft’ area. People
had been arriving all day to park near the Camporee. I think they were going to
give ‘Young Eagles’ flights to the Camporee guys and girls. When I taxied down
to where I have been all week, the controller called up that I was going the
wrong way. I told him that I wasn’t and that I was happy to go where I was. He
replied that he couldn’t understand why I had gone down here though. I said I
was fine and said goodnight and switched off the radio before he got even more
confused.
Later I went to go to the main arena,
but couldn’t find a way out as all the gates were locked. The area the kids had
been using today inside Oshkosh was off limits after 8pm and they had locked all the
gates. Eventually I found the one and only way out. I followed the crowds of
people, on my bike, to the Night entertainment in the main Arena. When it
started it was about an hour of praying and blessing and I thought better of it
though and to go and get food before it went completely dark.
Hardee’s again because it was the
closest and then rush back because it was dark.
The main show had begun and I only
caught the last 20 mins when Daniel had already risen from the Lion’s den. It
wasn’t the Romans, this was all much earlier, about the Babylonians and their
cities and kings. It was good, but too soon it was over for the night, to be
continued and everyone piled out. I struggled to get through the 40,000 kids
and adults and golf buggies. And I struggled to get back in, but luckily one of
the security guards recognised me and I cycled back to more diary and sleep.
Thought for the day: Itzy is ready to
leave, but am I? Err definitely Not!!!
Day 53. 13/Aug/2014 More, but I like it…
Day score 7.
Close, I’m in Canada . When I write it I see the humour value and unbelievability!
It’s quite intense this diary writing.
It’s way too long, but contains all I want to remember. I’ll use it for
reference and shorten it to write articles, a book and film.
So for a break, I put Gromit on my back,
put a cap on, because the weather is hot and sunny and I went to explore the
Camporee.
As we used to get ‘Badges’ in Cubs and
Scouts for different activities, here it seems you get ‘Honours’. There are
possibly several hundred to claim and you can make your own up as well? Quite
what you have to for them seems a mystery, but there was a ‘Derby Car Honour’.
This is famous in America , where you build a free wheeling Derby Car from a kit
and race them down a sloped track. ‘Basic Electrics Honour’, ‘Wildlife Honour’,
‘Cat Honour’, ‘Dog Honour’, ‘Religious History Honour’. Outside there was a
‘Wooden Mallet Honour’, where you cut up your own pieces of mallet, made your
own nail and nailed them together. There was an ‘Adventure Course Honour’,
‘Bicycle Honour’. Once you got the
Honour, you got a pined badge or pin for short. I had been asked often if I
wanted to exchange pins quite often. I had none to exchange. Seemed strange to
be able to get an honour pin then trade it? To entertain the masses between
honours, as you had to book and they all had set times, there was slot car
racing, bouncy castles galore and ball games and climbing towers and rope slides.
They had a ‘Sinking Titanic’ inflatable to climb and slide down, like in the
film. Motor cross display teams, stunt cycle teams. As a kid I would have liked
it.
There were halls of merchandise to.
‘Forever Faithful’, because Daniel was ‘Forever Faithful’ to his lord. Well
‘Forever Faithful’ T’ shirts were the order of the day. Actually all the
different unions and church districts from around the world, about 400, had
their own different T’ shirt design, but with the same logo somewhere on it.
There were Pin stalls where you could buy all sorts of pins. They were not
cheap. Those people I had seen weighed down by them must have spent a fortune
then? You could buy all sorts of religious books and paraphernalia. Not my
seen, so I left.
There were drums playing and marching
bands practising for a march, scheduled later in the day, but I was getting
hungry and I took a roasted sweet corn because it had the shortest queue near
the food area, pizza had the biggest queue. I sat down to absorb it all in. Gromit
was a silly idea as 45,000 kid wanted to play with him. A ventriloquist with a
lion called ‘Chico ’ entertained well taking the pressure of Gromit and I...
Considering that lions played a large part of the logo design and a place in
the story of Daniel, Chico was a star. There was a live lion in a pen and Donkeys and
camels and goats in the ‘Wildlife Honour’ area.
Gromit and I stayed to watch the
marching parade, with a role call to start with and flags a plenty. Then I
needed to go back to the diary. I’m on the final day now.
Ok, this time I’d go out earlier for
food, take the folding chair that Pablo left me and sit down earlier and take
in the show. So it was Subway tonight, then head back before dark. Tonight’s
continuation of the story, after prayers and their theme song - which was
scaringly hypnotic – sung by people who just shouldn’t smile and be that happy,
tonight’s story was ‘The Kings Dream!’ Obviously I’d mist a lot, but Daniel and
his Jewish friends had been taken prisoner. Now, not been eaten by lions had
upgraded their tickets somewhat. But now all the wise men of the city would be
killed if no one could tell the King what his dream meant. But God told Daniel
what it was all about and he and his friends were saved. Hurrah! Then, to be continued,
followed by a trendy preacher called ‘Paster Sam’, I’m not making it up, doing
the final preaching ‘how the story of Daniel is relative to the kids lives
today’ and if anyone of them wanted to be baptised, head down to the front,
followed by lights up and a mass exodus.
Rather than face the music of security
guards not wanting to let me get back in, I had been given the main gate
security number, so I rode down there and tried it. Easy!
I know security guards, Jim, Sandra,
Sarah, Angela, Damien, Paul and John. One of them would have let me in, but I’d
rather not inconvenience them.
Back to write more reports.
Thought of the day: I know I’m harping
on about them, but I think I need to do the reports and articles. I can’t deny
there importance. I don’t want fame, honest, but a little notoriety wouldn’t go
a miss and may help me in the future if ever I get a little stuck . And trust
me, at some point, somewhere around the world, I’m sure to.
Day 54. 14/Aug/2014 Close, but not yet. Day score 7.
I keep justifying the reason I’m still
here to the security guards, but they say I’m the least of their worries.
Seems like it really is time to go
though as the B17 taxied out and went off on tour. I never asked where it was
going? I could probably have got a
flight in that, but I just want to clear this diary and pack all paperwork
away.
I took an afternoon break to go and sea
what the kids were doing and grab another roasted sweet-corn. Very much the same
as yesterday, yet not quite as frantic. There were kids asleep everywhere after
the excesses of yesterday.
Returning to my shed, I worked while
watching a pair of Sonex aircraft from factory go out for a blast.
I fancied something different for dinner
so took a long ride out to Pizza Hut and grabbed far too big a pizza for one,
but cycled back and ate it just around the back of the arena.
Sitting down to have to stand for
prayers and not wanting to be disrespectful, tonight to a big cheer, Chico came
on to entertain along with his handler. The joke was that Chiko had become
vegetarian after talking to Daniel, so he wouldn’t want to eat him. Then on
with the main show…
Tonight it was more of Daniels friends
to be the stars. Daniel had been sent to mediate with another ruling king of a
nearby city. With Daniel away a law was passed that everyone must bow down and
praise the king and his new statue of gold showing how great he was. Daniels
friends would not bow down to the staue so they were thrown into a firey pit,
but the lord saved them, proving his existence and it not just being Daniel.
Followed by, to be continued and then ‘Paster Sam’, still not making it up,
showing ‘how this story of Daniel’s friends being saved is relative to the kids
lives today’ and again if anyone of them wanted to be baptised to head down to
the front, followed by lights up and the mass exodus.
Thought for the day: I was told by the
security guard tonight that the organisers had told the kids that no bikes were
allowed on site. Hence the reason why people keep saying, “He’s got a bike!”
when I know I have?
Day 55. 15/Aug/2014 Patience.
Day score 6.
I wrote arriving in Oshkosh and all the
emotional stuff last night. I wrote it as it happened. It sort of proved to
myself what a wuss and an emotional state I can get myself in.
About the only thing of interest, above
and beyond repeating what I have done for the last few days, because I did it
again, was that a Bezler PT6 converted DC3 took off today and one of the gear
legs wouldn’t go up. Luckily, the other one came back down and it landed safely
and taxied back in. There are down locks that have to lift out before the gear
will go up. Probably stuck or needed adjusting.
This afternoon I went up to Camporee I
came across the ‘Aviation Honour’. I listened in for about 40 minutes while the
guy did a very good about explaining the vitals of aviation as quickly and as
in depth as possible. Types of aircraft, even including the Osprey tilt rotor.
The four forces acting on an aircraft, the three axis of rotation and what part
of the aircraft moves the aircraft around these axis. He did very well. There
are about 4 or 5 aircraft flying continually ‘Young Eagles’ the American
‘Flying Youth’ program.
Evening food was Subway.
Tonight Daniel was back but the king had
another dream he did not understand. It depicted the end of his reign and the
city would fall. The king died and the new king was pretty naff. As the
Persians came nearer, the new king went out to fight them leaving his useless
sun in charge. His son had a party because he thought the walls of Babylon were
impregnable, but the Persians, being clever people, diverted the river and
drained the water supply into the city. They then went in through this water
supply system and took the city without a fight. The rulers were in trouble.
The thing was that the invading King was the King that Daniel had to go and
mediate between two days ago, or was it yesterday? Anyway, he and his friends
were saved. Followed by, ‘To be continued and ‘Paster Sam’, showing ‘how this
story of Daniel’s mediation between kings is relative to the kids lives today’
and again if anyone of them wanted to be baptised to head down to the front,
followed by lights up and the mass exodus.
Thought for the day: Ok, tomorrow I can
I should be finished and can post all belongings and post Flikr photos and
Facebook reports and blogs and emails. Then I can go… But tomorrow night is the
last night of Camporee… I want to stay.
Day 56. 16/Aug/2014 The finale.
Day score 10.
They are flying the Harvard’s again, I
need to come here to fly war birds, then go back home and fly spitfires. I sort
of feel as if I’m missing out sitting here all the time, but this is important
and will tidy up my head as well as this room with posting things home.
The ‘Saturday Midday Siren’ test screamed out all over the city, in case of attack
but also in case of tornadoes… Scary to hear though if you don’t know what it
is.
It’s very quiet up there today. I went
to find out why and get my roasted sweet-corn. Apparently it’s the Sabbath and
I was wished many times, ‘Happy Sabbath.’ Apparently Seventh day Adventist rest
on a Saturday. Ok. So no food… But how could the rest on the last day of
Camporee? They could not.
At 2.pm it all started again. The main
parade was about to start. Chico entertained the crowds while some 20,000 Camporee’s assembled
in their marching gear in the main arena. The stars of Daniel, the nightly
show, turned up and were mobbed as if real biblical heroes, which was nice, I
was more interested in how a life size teddy had been made, I’m definitely
going to make my own costume. I would also like to do ventriloquism and
entertain. Maybe it’s time for a change in career?
They like their drums and flags and
banners and their marching. To the sound of three mini canons that defend
anyone near them, including me who was trying to film them, the parade began.
First the stars of the show, then two air canons firing off T’shirts and little
balls into the air for everyone to fight over, literally, I have a bruise to
prove it… Then 20,000 Camporee’s filed past. All in there finest marching
clothes, with badges and honour pins a plenty. Some of the groups had their
drum bands to march to, but not all or it would have been too much. I watched
pretty well the whole parade, we just don’t have a similar site in the Uk .
So close and it need to be done, so back
to the diary.
I set off early to Hardee’s, it looked
like rain. Wow, lots of fireworks, and very near the road… I got back and
decided to return the bike and walk out like everyone else did. So I joined the
crowds to watch the final lowering of the flags, with the apparent 55,000
others, or so it was announced. I sat through the prayers and singing. To a
roar of delight, Chico the Lion made an appearance, before the finally of Daniel. In
tonight’s episode, the tax collectors of the city wanted to show the wealth of
the king by building palaces for all the important people to live in. But
Daniel said they should build roads to strengthen the empire. The king agreed
and the road projects were started. This upset the important lawyers and tax
men so the city, so they created a new law saying you could not pray. Daniel
did and he got thrown to the lions again. But Chico the lion
puppet had turned them into vegetarians and Daniel was spared, proving to all
the Babylonians that there was a God, or something like that. And that was the
end, to rapturous applause.
Then all the dignitaries and leaders
came on stage and were thanked. It was all well done. To finish the night,
Paster ‘Sam’ came on with a few things to say. There would be three surprises
for the crowd. 1: The winning drum team from the marching would perform, then
2: There would be fireworks and I had already left and never heard what the
third thing would be. Ok, look, if I walk along the road when they let off the
fireworks as other people were towards their cars, I would be right underneath
them when they went off. I managed to get there as marshals cleared the area
and closed the road. The fireworks were awesome and lasted for at least 10
minutes and I stood virtually underneath them. You could hear screams from the
crowd when ever it got bad and when they let it rip for the end, the kids were
almost as loud as the fireworks. I ran back to see what the last surprise was.
They announced who the next star of the 2019 Oshkosh Camporee would
be and what the theme was. And it was David from David and Goliath fame and the
theme was ‘CHOSEN’ as he was the ‘chosen’ one apparently. This all met mass
approval. And with that Paster Sam said a final prayer bringing the 2014
Camporee to an end and shouted “Goodnight!” But this time there was no mass
exodus, there was a party atmosphere and no one wanted to leave. Pictures were
taken at the front for seemingly hours with the cast of the show. I walked out
after about half an hour. Some of the groups had packed up during the day and
were already climbing on to coaches to take them home, others just seemed to
walk about in a daze, knowing it was over too soon. I got talking to a group of
people, there were two English girls with in it. Obviously they were fed up
with answering the question with “From England !” But when I replied that I was too, they sort of grabbed the
opportunity to talk. There had always been people walking around with signs of
cardboard with Free Hugs written on it but now it was a full on hug and high
five fest. I got told I had nice eyes, this was because they were blue and no
one had blue eyes here. I won’t go on about it but it’s true. The two girls
said that they were too old for this camp now and they had not mingled well
because no one was there age. I had no idea how old they were, so just nodded.
I slowly walked back to the airfield compound. Because it was after midnight , the store and all the food marquees were open again and the
merchandising hall was open to. You couldn’t get in, it was a hive of feverish
buying of pins an final trading of the Camporee’s. I was done for and left them
to it and returned to my little home builders base.
Thought for the day: What a good time I’d
had. I love fireworks.
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