The Annual Jamboree, by B.Umble.

“Off we go then”, I said to the assembled company of three including me and asked, “Does anyone know the way?

My brother-in-law and I had seated ourselves in Dave Hughes’s car as he had volunteered to drive all three of us to Popham in order that we might view the proceedings at the annual Microlight jamboree being held there this particular weekend.

Dave assured us that he very definitely knew the way having lived and worked in neighbouring Basingstoke for a short period of time.

My brother-in-law, Rex and I had made a few trips to Popham, by road in previous years but had contrived never to take the same route twice in a row and to always get lost.  I admit to being blessed with very poor navigational skills, particularly in a moving vehicle.

We relaxed and allowed Dave to take the strain and after an unhurried journey we arrived in time to keep our first appointment with Mike Lusted, who had travelled to Popham, independently.

“I have just bought a ‘Jabiru Calypso’ for early delivery from Australia-factory built of course”, he announced, as we sat down on chairs provided by one of the many outside catering stalls dotted about the show area.

I had thought on meeting him a few minutes previously that he looked a little flushed and this must have been the reason-expenditure rash!

We took immediate interest and asked all the usual questions of how long? (delivery time)  How much?  Where are you going to keep it?  Does your wife know?  This last question is all important in many cases as we have seen all manner of persons arriving at the Banana Strip, flying their new acquisition only to find later that ‘the wife’ had no previous knowledge of the purchase and had in turn submitted a long list of all the household items that were needed in the home before an aeroplane could be considered a necessity.  This state of affairs may in some cases lead to unreasonable disharmony, it is said, between the contestants. 

A chap must have his hobby.

Mike had no such worries.

The Jabiru Company was offering the ‘Calypso’ for sale at an all-inclusive price (£38K) to include radio, headsets, executive trim and ready to fly.  The Jabiru would be factory built so useable for training unlike kit built aircraft, when it arrived from Australia later in the year.

Mike was, or is a devotee of the genre having flown many hours in the Rochester School Syndicate aircraft.

The show was getting under way with aircraft landing and taking off–Big Dave had his eye on a particular GA machine, a Cessna that was being thwarted every time the pilot approached to land.  

Dave gave up counting after the twelfth attempt!  

We all became fascinated by the Cessna’s stately progress around the Popham circuit.  He or she, would make an attempt to land, overshoot, climb back to circuit height, turn right and right again onto a wide down wind leg and slowly disappear from our sight for a short time, only to reappear, landing light shining , on long finals.  His long finals, at a guess, probably started overhead Winchester, a few miles-eight miles-further down the road-more or less a days’ outing in the average Microlight.  His stately progress would continue to the point in the circuit where other aircraft were throwing themselves at the Zero Three Runway and of course cutting in, in front of  the Cessna.

The queue for landing was fairly long at this time so we could see no hope for the Cessna’s successful arrival which proved to be the case as the pilot, no doubt fearing that he would run out of fuel, finally gave the ‘jamboree’ a miss for that day and disappeared into the distance after his last thwarted attempt.

The ground control procedures appeared interesting to the casual viewer.                                                                                                                         

The landing and take off arrangements were controlled by a pair of ‘batmen’ for take off and a long stop single ‘batman’ at the far end of the runway to indicate the final stopping point of landing aircraft.  I noticed however that the pair at the take off point seldom, if ever referred to each other’s signals to the departing pilots or took heed of any aircraft on short finals.  This sometimes caused a situation where one thought one was about to witness a formation take off and landing all at one time-the landing aircraft being thrown in for good measure.  I think the ‘batmen’ must have been volunteers from the original ‘Ark Royal’, so eager were they to clear the decks.

Amazingly, it all appeared to work very well.

We stirred ourselves into action and set about the pleasant task of ‘window shopping’ staring in awe at the latest designs of Microlight aircraft on show and reading the claimed performance figures as displayed in the accompanying leaflets and advertising material.

“Where has Dave gone?”  I asked of Rex and Mike.

He had slipped away unnoticed by us.

We went in search but to no avail so continued our perambulations.  We met many old friends along our route and even the Irish fellow who had bought-paid a deposit on-Rex’s Ikarus the previous week. 

We passed the Jabiru display and Mike wished to show us what we would buy if we were to select a Jabiru Calypso aircraft.  Their salesman was very helpful and persuasive but our little group moved on-no sale-apart from Mike’s of course.

I again had a longing look at the Sky Ranger Swift, but again the thought of having to build it alone and unaided caused me to walk on.  I had asked Dave if he would be interested in at least supervising a build programme but he had been, at best, noncommittal.  I would have to work on him in the car on the way home.

We finally reached the autogyro stands and admired the machines.  They had progressed out of all recognition since I was a lad.  I had, had contact with a home built autogyro, a Benson, I believe, or maybe a Wallis, powered by a Mc Culloch engine. The owner and builder of this machine had never previously flown any aircraft of any type in his life.

We christened him ‘Chelsea Charlie’ as he resided in Chelsea, although he preferred ‘Chelsea Charles’ as he felt that ‘Charlie’ was somewhat common and had the descriptive connotation of him being a ‘Proper Charlie’ a well-used euphemism in those days for a complete idiot. 

He had, he told us, built it on a whim and as a therapy exercise as he had suffered two broken legs in a bobsleigh accident earlier in the year and had become exceedingly bored by the time it was taking him to make a full recovery, although both legs had been ‘pinned and tubed’, so allowing him some mobility.  He occasionally walked with the aid of sticks at that time, appeared to have no ‘day-job’ or inclination to find employment and was the life and soul of any party.

We worked out a plan of campaign, which immediately met with his approval.

We attached his machine to the rear end of a vehicle via a gliding type quick/back release arrangement hastily affixed to the front end of the autogyro and started a programme of dragging him along the nearest into wind runway until such time as it was thought that he had mastered the control principles.  We had three runways available for this purpose one of which measured some two thousand yards in length the other two nearing one thousand yards each. 

The next step was to have been a release of the rope securing him to the vehicle followed by a straight glide and landing on the runway.  Initially we had not installed the actual ‘quick release’ part of the mechanism, as we did not want him to wander off and do his own thing.   The vehicle driver was able to control the height to which the aircraft would ascend by varying the vehicle’s speed, very much in the way that I had been taught to glide starting with ground slides, progressing to low hops, slightly higher hops and finally high hops, the winch driver being in full control at all stages before the last stage, the high hop.  

Being an over eager and over enthusiastic young man, fearless but naïve, he became somewhat frustrated by our cautious approach and one sunny, pleasant afternoon and before we could intervene, he had started the engine, no mean feat in itself and taken off!

Our small group were overtaken by panic, surprise and despair by his actions and watched the proceedings in total silence and with ‘everything crossed’.  This was not the ‘First Powered Solo’ we had envisaged at the outset. 

He quickly lifted into the air, too steeply, but levelled off and continued over three quarters of the length of one of the shorter runways, the engine note constantly changing from full blare to near silence.   

Remembering that he had never before been beyond the end of any one of the runways in an airborne condition used for his tutorials, he faltered. 

We stared in horror as he tried to hover gently back to his previously, vehicle controlled landing point.

The forward speed dropped dramatically and so also the little craft which hit the ground with a thunderous clatter.  Bits and pieces disengaged from the autogyro.

When the dust settled and we had arrived on the scene we were again amazed to find ‘our man’ not only alive and fully conscious but complaining loudly and bitterly, that ‘it would not hover!’    

One of our number, relieved no doubt that Charlie, was still alive, went into a half hearted explanation as to why it would not hover, but tailed off as the rest of us removed him from the wreckage and carried him to the bar.

The local hospital doctors told us later that the Swiss doctors had carried out a marvellously intricate operation on his legs after his bobsleigh accident but they, the local chaps had, had to use more traditional methods.  They were confident though, that he would be able to at least walk again in a few months.

We never saw or heard from ‘Chelsea Charles’ again.  He never bothered to send so much as a post card to possibly thank us for our endeavours or for clearing up the wreckage and hiding it away from sight in a local wood-he had expressed a wish never to see the autogyro or any of the bits ever again or alternatively until ‘Hell froze over!’ 

Was it something we had said?

The modern day autogyros we viewed were far removed from my only previous encounter with the type.  There appeared to be no need to bring the rotor up to near flying speed-by hand-always a tiresome manoeuvre.  The aircraft on show were sleek and highly polished variations of the originals and were quite inviting.  Modern technology, modern engines, particularly we noted, the ’Rotax 912’ or ‘912’S’ but all suffered the same fault-the wings went round in circles and to a group of fixed wing pilots who require their wings to stay in one place, relevant to the remainder of the airframe, this was a feature for which we were not searching.

As we were leaving the autogyro stands, Dave reappeared.  He had met a number of old friends and colleagues on his way to catching up, hence his delayed return.

He turned to Rex and asked,

“Are you certain that you have sold your Ikarus?”

Rex replied that he was as certain as anyone could be, short of the full money being handed over.  The subject was dropped.

We called in to view the Medway Microlights SLA stand and met Martin Ingleton complete with his brand new SLA but equipped with a newly designed engine from a company in Belgium. 

I had seen the engine in the Medway factory the day it was fitted to the airframe but when fired up it would not perform on all four cylinders.  The designer of the engine, who had overseen the installation, did a marvellous job.  He removed the engine from the SLA, loaded it into the boot of his car and made a dash for the Dover Ferry Terminal.  He returned less than twenty four hours later with the engine and again fitted it to the SLA.  It worked perfectly, therefore allowing Martin to participate in the show.

We wandered the show and the exhibits but I had the feeling that Dave was a little bit edgy and wondered why? 

Mike Lusted left us earlier than he would have liked and later in the afternoon we also left Popham.  We had, we agreed enjoyed a very good day out, having seen all the items we wished to see and were now heading for home but via a country-non-motor way-route, which was very refreshing.

“Are you sure you have sold your Ikarus?” Dave again asked of Rex, as we motored steadily along the country roads.

 Rex gave him virtually the same reply,

“As far as I can be” said Rex.

“Is it too late to pull out of your deal?” asked Dave.

An alarm bell sounded in my head!

“What have you done?  I asked Dave.

When Dave had left our company earlier in the day he had, he explained, visited the Aero Sport UK, Ikarus-C 42-stand and had ordered a C42, but in kit form!

Bang goes my plan to wheedle, grovel and plead with Dave to enter into a ‘Swift’ building programme with me, was my immediate reaction.

Rex and I were incredulous at Dave’s announcement.

Dave’s next question was directed at me,

“Do you still want my Sky Ranger, as is?”

The ‘as is’ part of the question referred to the fact that the paperwork had not been completed at that stage.

My reply was simple and straight forward and in the affirmative.

“We can sort it out next week”, Dave told me.

That was it.

I was now, to all intents and purposes the owner of two aircraft a brand new Sky Ranger, by kind permission of Dave Hughes and my X-Air ‘OR’-the ‘Orrible Little Beast’. 

I wondered how ‘OR’ would respond to this news?

The following Monday, Big Dave telephoned me to ask again if I was still keen to buy his Sky Ranger?

I again replied in the affirmative.

‘Big Dave’ showing off his creation.

The price had been agreed earlier so his next question was to ask how I would like to pay and most of all-when?

“This afternoon if you like”, I told him and added, “drop into the stables for a cuppa around four and we can sort it out then”.

Dave duly arrived and while I organised the kettle, tea bags and milk along with a mug or two, he made another announcement.

“I have cancelled the kit-gave them a ring this morning and I have ordered a factory built one instead”.

He explained that he really did not wish to enter into another protracted build programme so soon after the near completion of the Sky Ranger and that he wished to ‘do a bit of flying’ as the summer was almost upon us.

“ I am going up to Halfpenny Green next Saturday (Wolverhampton) the home of the Aero Sport Company to make the final arrangements-do you want to come with me?”

I agreed that I would very much like to accompany him but two weekends in a row, Popham last weekend and now Halfpenny Green this coming weekend might not be in my best interests as my ration of weekends away from the stables in any one three hundred and sixty five days period, would be used up all within seven days.

“What time will you want to leave?” I asked Dave.

We moved off from my front door dead on the dot of 06.30 hrs.

The journey to Wolverhampton was, for the most part, in heavy rain.  Unlike other journeys I had experienced in the very recent past, we did not hurtle through small villages scattering the alarmed locals, dogs, sheep, cattle and poultry in our path and my navigational skills were never called upon as Dave is firstly a good driver and secondly and most importantly he has reference to a GPS navigational display within his vehicle.

On our arrival Simon, with whom Dave had made the appointment to meet, made us very welcome.

The weather was not conducive to flying but after some time spent in investigating the technicalities of the ‘demonstration’ Ikarus in the very large hangar, it did brighten up sufficiently for a flight with Dave at the controls and Simon alongside him.  Only one runway was in use on that day-RW 28-and the strong southerly wind was very much across.

Dave is seldom given to enthusiastic outbursts of any kind or under any circumstances but when he arrived back at the hangar he positively glowed with pleasure and was so enthusiastic about the Ikarus he was, after a period, unable to find enough superlatives without repeating himself, in order to describe the flight and the aircraft’s qualities.

The business side of the meeting took but a few short minutes including the additional navigational ‘extras’ which would be built in, in the factory in Germany, prior to delivery.

I was particularly interested in the delivery date because this would determine the length of time available in order to dispose of ‘OR’. 

Back at the Banana Strip ‘OR’ was in my hangar and the Sky Ranger in Dave’s hangar.  His new Ikarus, when delivered would, quite rightly take precedence over my Sky Ranger and ‘OR’ would, if not sold, again have to move outside.  I would have to get my skates on.

I was now hanging on every word uttered by Simon and eventually he told Dave that he could expect delivery within about six weeks.  HELP!

“Lets go on to Cosford-I have just flown fairly close to it-it is not too far up the road from here”, said Dave.

We arrived at the Royal Air Force Museum, Cosford in heavy rain and made our way to the restaurant close to the entrance hall.  More cuppas followed but the conversation was of the Ikarus and Dave’s flight.  We wandered the museum and stared at almost forgotten prototypes from some few years back when Britain had the finest aircraft industry in the world, instead of a mish-mash of foreign owned factories building ‘kit’ parts for other manufacturers, mainly in Europe.

We paid special attention to the ‘MAD’ exhibition of bombs, rockets and ‘V’ Bombers the latter to be used for delivery of the former.

It is incredible to think that many of my generation drew comfort from the fact that when the ‘balloon went up,’ as we thought it surely must and while being burnt to a crisp, we would be pleased and satisfied to know that our counterparts in Russia were also suffering the same fate and at the same time depending on whether the Americans had pressed their ‘Big Red Button’ first in a pre-emptive strike or second, in retaliation!  If I remember correctly, we would have had ample time to take cover-all of four minutes!

It is amazing what carefully thought out propaganda may achieve within the general populace-‘MAD’ stood for ‘ Mutually Assured Destruction,’ but at least as a policy, it worked-we are still here.

We survived the torrential rains on our return journey, the Motor Way traffic being forced to a halt on a number of occasions due to the severity of the downpours encountered when visibility was reduced to zero.  Dave had been very lucky to fly at all in the morning in the Ikarus, on that day.

Battle was about to commence.

Dave had made a commitment to taking delivery of a brand new C42 factory built machine with all the trimmings and in turn I had purchased his newly built Sky Ranger.  It all seemed so simple.

ENTER the BMAA (The British Microlight Aircraft Association) who were responsible for issuing the appropriate paperwork in the form of a ‘Permit to Fly’.

In my naivety I thought that while it might take a few more days or possibly weeks to actually receive the coveted piece of paper, I was not really prepared for the several  months of waiting that proved to be the case.

The problems started more or less on day one.  A telephone call to the BMAA revealed that a couple of e-mails addressed to Dave Hughes had received no replies.

I checked with Dave and he confirmed that he had not received them and furthermore had made a point of telephoning the appropriate BMAA office to check that they were using his correct e-mail address, having previously experienced various problems in this direction.

This was the key to the problem, for Dave has a three digit number in his address, which the BMAA had studiously ignored, when sending e-mails to him, therefore making it totally impossible for the sender to communicate directly.

I was in the middle of this fiasco and somewhat frustrated but felt that I had enough time remaining before the summer weather took hold. 

The ‘paperwork’ had been set in motion by Dave through the BMAA in early December and the first test flight had taken place and was flown by the CAA’s top man, Paul Mulcahy. 

On my purchase of Dave’s Sky Ranger, my name had been added to the ‘Test Certificate’ allowing me to fly the Sky Ranger, albeit solo and to only originally designated airfields within the UK.  Mr David Bacon of RFIB had arranged the insurance cover for me and the Civil Aviation Authority had provided me with a ‘Certificate of Registration’, more or less by return of post.

I made a weekly telephone call to the BMAA to a Mr Payne, who always assured me that the paperwork was ‘waiting to be sent that very afternoon to the CAA for final approval and needed but one more signature,’ which would be forthcoming within the day.

I should have known better of course but one lives and learns. 

After the next test flight carried out by a local man, ordered and approved by the BMAA, and certain figures had been confirmed as correct-such things as the ambient temperature on the day of the first test flight and the stalling speed in miles per hour, not nautical miles per hour-originally there had been a slight mix up on this score-I felt that all was set for my next adventure namely, flying the newly built Dave Hughes Sky Ranger, now my pride and joy.

I enlisted the aid of Dave in a flight to North Weald.  Dave had been and still was named on the ‘Test Certificate’ as a designated pilot so I was breaking no rules or laws by asking him to accompany me.

We set off for North Weald on a bright sunny morning.  Dave was in the left hand seat so that I could monitor and learn from his every move and by the time we had returned to the Banana Strip, I felt sufficiently confident to take her up on my own.

My first flight a few days later was purely experimental and consisted of ‘exploring the envelope’.  I carried out numerous ‘landings’ but at a safe height of around fifteen hundred feet both with and without the use of flaps.  I explored stalling speeds in varying attitudes and carefully noted the reactions of the aircraft, all proving totally benign.   I was becoming blasé in my comfortable spacious cockpit fully confident that ‘ADA’ could spring no unnecessary surprises on an unsuspecting pilot.  I was relishing the situation but it slowly dawned upon me that I was going to have to come back to earth and land her-for real. 

I had flown two or three experimental circuits in my explorations mainly to fly the aircraft constantly below the flap limiting speed and to be able to lower the flaps by feeling for the flap lever without having to search the whole flight deck and in my pockets-I overlap the seat a trifle and it is very easy to miss the required lever.

I lined up on Runway Zero Six with full flap extended and my speed controlled at sixty miles per hour.  I had toyed with the idea of approaching at sixty five or even seventy miles per hour, the flap limiting speed, but under the prevailing wind conditions I felt I might float along the run way and not be able to stop or even touch down at all at the higher approach speeds.

All went well and my first landing in my new aeroplane was the best achieved by me even since that day. Beginners luck.

I was going to enjoy this new machine but what of ‘OR’ still resting in my hangar?

Action time had arrived-she had to go before her permit expired in a few weeks time.

I had looked at her and decided that the estimated sum required to return her to her former glory days-if any-was too steep for contemplation, as I would never recoup the expenditure.  This line of thinking made sense to me.  Accept the best offer made-I had a figure in mind-save the estimated expenditure and go for the quick sale.

Feeling very guilty, I composed an advertisement, selected a recent photograph of ‘OR’ and contacted ‘AFORS’.

‘OR’ prior to sale-the spats are optional extras but had never been fitted. 

My advertisement appeared shortly afterwards on page one and at the top of the column.  Not more than ten minutes later my telephone rang.

I had explained all ‘OR’s faults to the caller and necessary and optional replacements and asked him to make me an offer.

“Let me have a think about it and I will telephone you later this week”, he said.

A man of his word, he did just that and a deal was struck via the telephone with a projected pick up date on the following Sunday afternoon.  The weather forecast for the weekend was not just abysmal, it bordered on the ludicrously dire.

“I will come by road to be on the safe side”, he told me and gave me his proposed route.  We exchanged mobile telephone numbers so that we could keep in touch on the day.

‘OR’ was about to be no more but in the mean time Dave and I were still struggling with the vagaries of the BMAA and the paperwork was still no nearer completion.  We were in the snowy regions of the Tibetan foothills it would seem, taking one-step forward, only to slither backwards by two steps.

I was being criticised by one of the gentlemen at the BMAA for being sarcastic in a number of my communications, which he found a little disappointing.  I was looking for service; that made two disappointed people on Planet Earth at that time

I really do appreciate that the BMAA, the PFA and the CAA, have very important tasks to perform in the areas of safety/compliance and I feel that each organisation does a marvellous job but of course each organisation wishes to ‘cover its own backside’ so to speak, in these litigious days, but when dealing with-in my case a ‘Bog Standard Sky Ranger’ built and completed to the highest possible standard by a very experienced amateur, granted, the aircraft having been checked by inspectors at every turn and test flown-now twice-it could be assumed that every avenue had been explored and confirmed as being one hundred percent safe and in accordance with requirements.

Not so.

We, Dave and I, would congratulate our selves on having supplied all further information required only to set off once more at a BMAA tangent.  We were running out of answers.

The CAA issued a ‘Noise Certificate’ literally within twenty-four hours of being asked and I forwarded a copy of this document to the BMAA as they had requested. 

December ’06 to September ’07.  The paperwork had taken ten months, all but three days, to complete!

I sent the organisation one final e-mail to thank them for their diligence in the matter and allowing me the ‘Business Of Doing Pleasure With Them’.

Well done the BMAA-we had finally arrived at our destination.

B. Umble, Feb 2008.