‘You Have Tinkered It Again!’… By B. Umble.

We were discussing my latest accusation that ‘Biggles’ had ‘tinkered’ the elevator trim tab so making it fairly useless as an adjunct to fine tuning the cruise control of his Falcon ‘AT’ whilst flying from the Banana Strip towards the Isle of Sheppey.

To an extent we were short of time as the cloud base appeared to be descending towards us as I strove to thwart ‘AT’s inclination to ascend to meet the worsening conditions.

‘Biggles’ had hardly spoken to me since my acquisition of the Sky Ranger, indeed he had told many people on the Banana Strip that he had ‘lost his flying partner’ and I believe most replied using the traditional phrase, ‘How very careless of you!’  Others possessed of a more enquiring mind, asked if I had finally baled out at an inopportune moment, had sought asylum in Iraq, Iran or Afghanistan, to help redress the balance of ‘illegals’ entering the UK, or simply gone into hiding in a Cypriot monastery atop the Trudos Mountains?

His claim that he had ‘lost’ me was not particularly accurate but I had been fairly busy on my own account flying my new aeroplane.  I was restricted to solo flight only, by the ‘test permit’ so was unable to invite him along for the ride.  On this particular day and not wishing to get the Sky Ranger wet as rain from the lowering cloud base threatened, I had accepted his invitation to carry out a short check flight with him in ‘AT’.

“What are we checking?”  I asked.

“I have changed the wing struts and appendages as the paint was looking a bit shabby on the old ones,” he told me.

The struts to which he referred, support the wings and prevent them from folding upwards in flight and conversely, they ensure the wing tips do not drag along the ground when ‘AT’ is in contact with terra firma. They should be considered as important parts of the aircraft, to say the least.

“Has Chris had a look at the new installation?”

I always feel happier if Chris Draper, in his role of ‘Inspector’ has stamped his seal of approval after a ‘Biggles’ tinkering session as I feel I might live a little longer.

“No! Don’t have to”, was his reply.

He then went into a long explanation of replacing like with like and two signatures in the logbook and this being the whole essence of Microlighting-DIY repairs and maintenance.

I quite agreed with the basic concept of his statement but when ‘Biggles’ has been tinkering-who knows?

He did not however, wish to flight test his work without someone, anyone with him.  I carefully inspected the newly installed struts and even took my tape measure from my pocket in order to measure them to make sure the right ones were in the right places-all bravado on my part of course, because I had no idea what the measurements should be anyway!

After a bout of wing shaking, soul searching and close inspection I felt that ‘Biggles’ had completed the job satisfactorily.

We set off in the less than ideal conditions prevailing at the time, from the Banana Strip and flew towards Sheppey, as I felt confident, if the need arose, that I could find my way back from there, come what may.  ‘Biggles’ had handed control over to me at around five hundred feet and the cloud base appeared to be in the region of nine hundred feet over the strip.  The air was surprisingly smooth so that I was able to level off at six hundred feet, sit back, relax and trim ‘AT’ into a straight and level condition or so I thought.

“With what have you now been tinkering?” I asked ‘Biggles’.

“Nothing!” he replied (as usual) but I could see that his fidgeting alarm was about to reveal a possible answer.  Not so.

“We are nearly over the water and you are still at six hundred feet!”

This statement of fact surprised me until I remembered that he disliked crossing the narrow channel between the Isles of Grain and Sheppey at any height of less than two thousand feet, plus a few more hundred feet as an extra insurance.

“No room to spare today”, I told him and added, “Cloud base nine and descending- ‘AT’ six hundred and ascending, equals no room”.

This short interruption had caused me to lose concentration on the trimming of ‘AT’ finding that I was holding her level with a more than usual forward stick pressure.

I moved the trim lever forward an inch or two but there was still no noticeable change in attitude.

“You have been tinkering with the trim tab”, I accused ‘Biggles’,” either that or it has had a bump on the ground or the wires controlling it have slipped”.

I pushed the trim lever almost to the end of its travel until further movement was baulked by the hand-held radio, which I removed from its bracket.  The trim lever moved on to its fullest extent.   We were still climbing unless controlled by a forward joystick input.

“You must have done something to upset the trim as normally she trims out very well,” I observed.

“Not touched it!” ‘Biggles assured me.

“Never mind we will return, land and investigate”.

I looked behind me and viewed the fuel tanks-both were full to the brim.  Too much fuel maybe?  We had often taken off previously with the tanks full so there should not have been a problem for this reason.

I felt, if not alarm, a certain amount of disquietude, a feeling brought on by this tail-heavy state of affairs.

We also had other slight problems in that the cloud base had further descended to around seven hundred feet and ‘AT’ was still trying to climb to meet it.

In fact of course the controls were in full working order but I have always flown ‘AT’ with slight adjustments on trim only, with the occasional prod on the rudders to level the wings as necessary once settled down, hence the feeling of disquiet.

I actually enjoyed the time we were in the air over Sheppey although to keep track of our position I had remained over the seaward side of the island so being able to see the coastline through the odd misty patches that were becoming more prevalent.

There was some alarm when we rejoined the Banana Strip circuit-left hand for Runway Two Four-as a student pilot was endeavouring to cope with the less than hospitable, worsening conditions that now prevailed. 

The aircraft we had joined in the circuit was the club AX-3 used for training.  I hoped that Alan Cashin, our CFI, was with the student in the AX-3 but Alan Cashin answered an enquiry upon the radio, made by ‘Biggles’ to the Banana Strip Radio.  The AX-3 student was on his own.

I determined to keep our distance in spite of the ‘Biggles’ insistence that we should cut in, in front of the student pilot or simply overtake him and land ahead of him.

I ignored his suggestions and explained that either course of action would be down right rude and possibly dangerous and could deter a sensitive student from ever taking to the air again.  I did not wish to frighten him even if he had seen me, something I thought very unlikely. 

I surprised myself at my own pomposity!

In the event both aircraft landed safely.  The student pilot was a little unnerved by his experience having like us, been ‘caught-out’ by the sudden deterioration in the conditions but after about an hour the weather improved sufficiently for him to fly a few confidence building circuits with Alan Cashin, followed by two or three solo circuits on his own account.

I was more concerned about the vast change in trim in ‘AT’ but once back on the ground could find no obvious reason.  We often fly with a full load of fuel.  Nothing had been left in the rear of the fuselage.  The wing profiles appeared normal to the naked eye and the new struts were as they should be.  The trim tab did not appear to have been damaged or knocked out of line, neither any part of the tail assembly.  All the cables were attached as normal and were not slipping and had not moved.  We went away and thought about it and I even wrote a note, in the form of an e-mail, to Chris Draper to ask his advice on a possible cause.  His reply to my e-mail was not reassuring in that he suggested that ‘Biggles’ had inadvertently left his wallet somewhere in the tail.

I was not there the following day but it would appear, as reported by Alan, that there had been a fair amount of head scratching investigation carried out by Alan, ‘Biggles’ of course and a number of other worthies at the Banana Strip.  Finally it was concluded that the whole experience was attributable to my imagination and the fact that I was flying in less than ideal conditions and had become bemused and disorientated. 

‘Biggles’ decided this must be the answer and at the same time persuaded Alan to fly with him in ‘AT’ for a short air test.

Alan informed me that the test flight was fairly short in duration as the problem still persisted. 

“The c of g- (centre of gravity)-has moved aft”, he said and added “by a long way”.

Alan weighs in at around nine stones soaking wet, so the effects of this strange phenomenon would have been heightened when he flew with ‘Biggles’ in ‘AT’.

As we were mulling over the problem within the confines of Alan’s office within the club hut, ‘Biggles’ in ‘AT’, arrived at the railway gate, parking along side Alan’s Thruster.

‘Biggles’ climbed out of ‘AT’ and walked towards the club hut.  On entering he asked me if I would fly with him again now?

“I agree with the others-must have been your imagination and disorientation”, he told me.

Alan looked up from his chair, opened his mouth as if to speak, paused, shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing.  I allowed the comment to pass unchallenged.

“So you feel that you have now rectified the problem?” I asked him, “tinkered something, somewhere, on or in ‘AT’ in the hope of rectification?”

“I have not, it was your imagination and Alan’s”, referring to their check flight the previous day.

We walked out to ‘AT’ and I again went over her with a fine toothcomb before climbing in.  With the exception of two new yellow cable ties on the wires leading to the elevator trim tab all looked normal.

“Why the change of cable ties on the trim?” I asked innocently as the original ties were coloured black.

“Safety precaution” he assured me.

I was now absolutely certain that ‘Biggles’ had adjusted the trim tab probably that morning.  The real question to my mind was, what had caused the problem in the first place?  A fairly vigorous readjustment would do the trick but what had made it necessary?

We took off from the strip and I turned ‘AT’ towards the west en route for Brock Farm, taking the pretty route via Thurrock. 

The day was bright and sunny unlike our previous trip-complete opposite in fact, in that there was not a cloud in the sky-but we were experiencing considerable turbulence.

At around fifteen hundred feet I sat back and trimmed her to level flight. 

Perfect!

In spite of the turbulence ‘AT’ trimmed out as of old.

I wondered if my imagination at the time had played tricks but then remembered that I had even removed the radio from its bracket to extract the last inch of lever travel.   I knew exactly where the lever had finished on the previous trip-hard against the instrument panel.

We bumped and thumped our way to Brock Farm but did not land there as the field appeared, from our lofty perch, to be deserted. 

“I suggest we make haste for home”, I told ‘Biggles’, “as it really is quite uncomfortable up here.”

‘Biggles’ agreed wholeheartedly as he clung to the solid framework within the cockpit.

“When you reset the trim tab did you use any calculations, inclinometers, levels or measures of any kind or was it all done by guess work?”

He started to deny the obvious but finally agreed that he had shifted it a few degrees to give a more nose down attitude.’

As we flew towards Thurrock the Thames Estuary and home we were buffeted by the sometimes vicious, clear air turbulence and on one occasion I really had to fight with full aileron and rudder inputs to keep us from being rolled over.  My thoughts were directed towards the new wing struts at that particular moment!

We arrived overhead the Banana Strip, joined the circuit and ‘Biggles’ carried out a very reasonable landing which pleased me no end as this act was his first contribution to the flight.  Agreed, we approached at some break neck air speed but the freshening wind along Runway Two Four, brought our ground speed back to something approaching normality.  On this occasion we did not threaten the existence of the railway-crossing cottage at the far end of the runway.  

We had suffered a very nasty and extremely uncomfortable ride to Brock Farm and back and after my initial experiments the last thing on my mind had been the trim control.

I still had no idea as to why ‘AT’s trim had changed so much originally and worryingly enough neither had anyone else including Chris Draper who claimed that it would all boil down to something ‘Biggles’ had done, inadvertently possibly, as a result of his constant tinkering.

Chris Draper and I listed a number of possibilities including the obvious ones such as accidental damage causing an involuntary resetting of the trim tab, tail plane damage, even the chance of him having replaced the main planes back to front and upside down-farcical of course.  Had he swapped the ordinary battery situated in the tail of the aircraft, for a commercial vehicle battery?  I did not think so.  Chris returned to his original ‘wallet theory’ and we left it there.  Chris pointed out that he had received no official request from ‘Biggles’ to investigate and was not therefore prepared to speculate.

‘AT’ was fast approaching ‘Annual Permit’ time.

A clue emerged, quite by chance one afternoon when I was working in my hangar, which is situated next to his hangar.  I was trying to block off the rear wall window space without interfering with the natural airflow so necessary to the well being of the rear wall.  The strip was being lashed at intervals by heavy rain, strong winds and thunderstorms and I was getting wet working in the open rear window space.  A rest was called for.  I could hear ‘Biggles’ tinkering in his hangar so strolled in to see if I might be of assistance.

At first sight it appeared that ‘AT’ was being dismantled piece by piece so dishevelled did she look. 

“What on earth are you doing now?” I asked him.

“Preparing ‘Alfie’ for his Permit on Tuesday and getting him back to weight as he has to be weighed this year”.

I laughed-“You will never do it!”  

“I can take out every thing I have put in recently and then put it all back after the Permit inspection-simple,” he told me.

“Have you thought about the trim problem again?” I asked.

“There is no trim problem!” he answered in a rather miffed tone of voice.

“I am happy that it was all down to your imagination in the first place”.

He turned back to ‘Alfie’ as he calls the Falcon and carried on with the task in hand.

I decided to sit and watch the strip-down for a few more minutes as the rain and wind was still lashing the Banana Strip, accompanied by flashes of lightning and claps of thunder.  I rescued my chair from the back of the hangar sat down, relaxed but in a position where I could follow the action.

‘Biggles’s rear end protruded from the cockpit as he scrabbled around inside and at the same time could be heard uttering strange grunting noises.  He was engaged in removing various items from the luggage bag positioned above the two fuel tanks situated behind the seats.

The first thud on the hangar floor did not necessarily attract my immediate attention but I was curious when there was a second, identical sounding thud.  I had not dozed off but had been resting my eyes.  I sat up in my chair and stared around and then at the floor.   Upon the floor rested two house bricks which he was feeling for with the outside of his left boot, his main torso being inside the cockpit, in order to slide them sideways, presumably to make way for the remainder of the wall that he had possibly secreted in ‘Alfie’, at an earlier date.

I was about to ask the why and wherefore, but kept silent as half a dozen ordinary plastic chocks, roped together in pairs and some wooden ones I had made earlier, tumbled to the floor.  The outside of his left boot was working over time.  Next to appear from the ‘Tardis’, was a single corkscrew shaped tie down.

“Only one?” I queried.

He did not disappoint me for another seven appeared, adding to the mounting pile and tangle of rope upon the floor.  A long length of rope had been attached to each of the tie downs.

‘Biggles’ was by this time, knee deep in the pile and was, I guessed, firmly anchored to the spot.  His left boot twitched from time to time but failed to change the shape of the fast growing (junk) heap.  A selection of handy tools, bottles of oil-sufficient to carry out at least one oil change if not two-sparking plugs, spare inner tube/s, and the odd coil of rope and many other unidentifiable objects were added.

Finally he was ready to extricate himself from his self made tangle, with my help.

“Why two house bricks?” I felt I had to ask because it had been puzzling me. 

I had once suggested to him that if ‘AT’ ever suffered an engine failure he should select his forced landing field by the simple expedient of first throwing a house brick over the side and where it landed would be where he should land ‘AT’.

Knowing ‘AT’ I suspect it would have overtaken the brick on the way down!

Was the inclusion of these bricks my fault I wondered?

“Extra chocks”, he told me also telling me that I used bricks all the time, as chocks.

“Only in the hangar. I don’t carry them around with me”, I told him.

“Now about my imaginary trim problem?”

“Do you think we may have stumbled upon a possible clue this afternoon?

“You are now faced with another problem”, I told him.

“AT could be difficult to fly with the stick right back in your lap in that it will now be very nose heavy as a result of your readjustment of the trim tab and the removal of what could have been the major cause-two hundredweight of junk!”

“I have to get ‘Alfie’ ready for the Permit inspection we will worry about things like that later”, he assured me.

I stood up, picked up my chair, returning the chair to the rear of his hangar and departed the scene.

Some days later ‘Biggles’ offered ‘AT’ for inspection and weighing and sorry to say it failed miserably to clear the first fence.  ‘AT’ weighed in at more than thirty kilograms over weight in spite of all his efforts.

‘Biggles’ went back to the drawing board!

After the removal of many and various other superfluous items from ‘AT’ including her doors, he managed to bring her back to within a whisker of permitted weight-a close run thing but well done nevertheless-but would he leave it in that sublime state of legality?  I had my doubts.

‘AT’ finally received her new Permit, but with a proviso that the skins should be renewed within the next six months.  This I was told by ‘Biggles’ would be a ‘winter project’ and that he was even then looking into the possibilities of having the new skins made up in an even newer ‘plastic-type’ material, impervious to ultra violet light degradation.

I knew nothing of the ‘new material’ and suggested it might be better to replace, like with like, my motto being something on the lines of ‘stick to what you know’.

The ‘AT’ dramas were about to begin again not in the immediate future but later resulting in a ‘Long Winter of Discontent’.     

I was having my own problems at this time.  The BMAA were still dragging their feet and my own GP was refusing to sign my medical certificate on the grounds of my being over seventy years-of-age.  He felt that he had a responsibility to ‘my passengers and crew’ to say nothing of ‘people’ on the ground!

I find it is very difficult to explain to someone who has never heard the term ‘Microlighting’, exactly what it involves. 

The average person in the street, or in this case, doctor in the surgery, understands only that which he has experienced and this usually amounts to an annual holiday flight to the West Indies/the USA/Australia or even Spain, borne aloft by a product of the Boeing Company or Air Bus Industries’.

After some uncalled for samples of blood and other human products and a cardiogram and the production of numerous photographs of ‘OR’ and ‘ADA’, I was able to convince him that I did not operate a scheduled airline or even a charter airline.  My flying was simple, very lightweight, one passenger at a time, usually a fellow pilot and most of all, fun.  Further more the CAA, through their ‘Notes to the GP’ stress that the GP is required to confirm that the facts as supplied on the ‘Self Assessment’ form by the applicant are true and match the patient’s records.  The CAA’s notes also absolve the GP from any further responsibility.

I eventually obtained my medical certificate so saving me from joining the ranks of the ‘illegals’-less said the better-but it was a close run thing and took some four months to achieve!

‘Biggles’, having eventually obtained his Permit, then set about reloading ‘AT’ with all the-I hesitate to use the word ‘junk’ but that is what some of it amounted to-junk although the luggage compartment was not restocked to its original level and I believe he returned the trim tab to its former setting.  He was ready to embark on adventures new including a day trip to France, which, considering his worries about crossing the inlet by the Grain Power Station at no less than two thousand feet was a brave move in deed.  It was expected that he would spend a morning climbing to around twenty five thousand feet and the rest of the day crossing the English Channel! 

‘Biggles’ had taken precautions.  By this time he had in his possession, an immersion suit, a personal distress beacon and a new life jacket and had lined up an almost willing passenger in the form of Alan Cashin, CFI, who of course would have to supply his own ‘ditching equipment’ for the proposed flight but no oxygen.

In the event the immersion suit had to be left behind on the Banana Strip as once wearing the suit, he was unable to gain access to the interior of ‘AT’!  He had also toyed with the idea of purchasing two inflatable mattresses to be stuffed into the wings to help ‘AT’ float if the worst came to the worst, but he was persuaded not to take this final weight-increasing step.

Alan Cashin was welcomed as would be a hero on his successful return having flown beyond the call of normal duty.

Having flown ‘OR’ for some time I was always conscious of her weight limitations which had stood me in good stead.  There was never a time when ‘OR’s Permit was due, that she was over weight.  I like to think that I at least made every effort to keep her weight down to limits on take off or below if at all possible.  ‘OR’ did not have the performance ‘two up’ to allow the taking of liberties.   At least the Falcon is blessed with a more powerful engine and can therefore cope with a certain amount of extra weight but I admit to wondering what the point of adding unnecessary junk for, effect only can be?

To my way of thinking it appears to be a totally pointless exercise in futility.

“Stay out of Vicky’s way-how have you fallen out with her? Chris Draper, asked me as I arrived at the Banana Strip one Thursday morning.

“I do not think that I have”.

“You have-believe me!”  “She is still shaking with rage or fear or both”, Chris said as he made good his escape by ascending the stairs to his office.

I went in search of Vicky.

What on earth had I done or said?

B. Umble April 2008.