"Are you listening?" she said. "Of course I am, you’ve got a new boss haven’t you?" Well on she went and in the middle of the lips moving and the noise coming out I picked up the words, “He’s also a pilot”. Hang on a minute, what did she say? Well it turns out that her new boss has had his PPL for over twenty years and comes from a family of Royal Air Force and Fleet Air Arm aviators.
"Well, if he ever wants to take me flying that would be superb", I said. The thing is about my wife, if you ask her to do something, she does it. So what does she do? Yep, you’ve guessed it, the next day she asks her new boss if he will take her husband flying, fantastic you think. Not exactly.
You see the thing is, I love planes, really love them. Always have, always will. Ever since I was a child, I’ve spent half my life with a cranked neck staring towards the skies. I know very little about them mind you, but do know that they come in different shapes and sizes, some blunt, some pointy, some fast, some slow, some even invisible, I’m told, but who’s seen one of those? I haven’t. I love the noise, the smell, the speed, the excitement and the chance to go flying is what I’ve always dreamt of, right? Wrong, very wrong, in fact totally wrong. You see, I hate flying and the thought of sitting in the cockpit of a light aircraft does not appeal to me in the slightest, why would anyone want to do that? It’s bound to crash isn’t it? I mean they look so flimsy and old...
Anyway, as the weeks passed I didn’t hear anything and assumed I had got away with it until my wife announced that I shall be sitting next to her boss at the Christmas do and we could talk about planes 'n' stuff. Well you can guess what happened? I got mildly inebriated (that’s putting it mildly too, at one stage I was re-enacting a scene from Dirty Dancing with my wife, fortunately though we didn’t attempt the lift) and of course agreed to go flying. I don’t help myself do I?
Well a year passed and the next Christmas do came. Dirty Dancing was re-enacted on the dance floor once again and I threw in a few Elvis manoeuvres too during the freestyle section, fortunately I didn’t do the robot but I’m sure I was moonwalking at some stage! You’ve probably guessed by now that I was very beveraged and once again I had agreed to go flying.
I managed to put the event off for several years fairly successfully but after my wife’s boss left this year he absolutely insisted that he took me flying. I am a strong willed man but three years is a long time to keep saying no. I gave in and said yes. Gulp.
The time period for my agreeing and actually going flying was only about 24 hours, so I didn’t have too much time to panic. The only slight problem was that we arranged on Saturday afternoon to go flying on Sunday but at 1.30am I awoke with extreme nausea and terrible stomach pains. Fantastic, I’m going flying and I’m going to soil myself, if not with fear, almost certainly via the means of a nasty bug.
You see, one of the problems I have is motion sickness. Not just slight nausea like most people might get on a rough ferry crossing, but the type of motion sickness that can spring out at you whilst playing a Playstation!! Couple with that an extreme phobia about actually being sick and I’m a real ball when we go to Alton Towers, you can imagine? Not too long ago I attended a driving day at Bruntingthorpe, I felt sick for two days after that……and I was driving!
So just to re-cap, I’m scared of flying, tick. I get extreme motion sickness, tick, oh and let’s not forget the stomach bug, tick. Now why didn’t I agree to go flying before I wonder?
As Sunday morning arrives, I’m grumpy, really grumpy. I don’t want to go, I’ll make such a mess, he’ll never forgive me, I’ll be so ashamed, the upholstery will be ruined! Of course I went, well after three years of saying no you can’t let a bit of projectile vomiting and wall to wall diarrhoea put you off can you? I’d got a plastic bag in my pocket so at least one half of a potentially bad situation was covered.
I arrived at Nottingham Tollerton airport fifteen minutes before we were due to fly and had already donned the Aquastraps. These are velcro bands with a pressure point you strap round your wrist and they help prevent motion sickness, they are a Godsend for me and I couldn’t travel without them. Everyone always takes the Mickey. I could always take them off guys? Now who wants to sit next to me? I’ll just keep them on then hey?
We went into the Sherwood Flying Club office and signed for the aircraft for today’s flight, G–MSFC, A Piper PA-38 112 Tomahawk. We then walked to the aircraft and I asked, how old are these aircraft? "They're from the seventies", my pilot replied. Dear God, from the seventies? That’s just mental, I’m flying the equivalent of a Vauxhall Viva, and they all died and were scrapped years ago! This is not helping my nerves. Check the Aquastraps are still in the right position, deep breaths Geoff, deep breaths.
We did a walkaround of the aircraft and did the pre-flight checks, I was looking for cracks, perished tyres and cast aside furry dice but my pilot knew exactly what to look for. Well he’s a bit older than me, he remembers the seventies.
The fuel was tested for any water, the control surfaces for full and free movement, the oil level in the Lycoming engine and lots of other bits and bobs I didn’t understand.
It was strap-in time. I climbed into the aircraft and was totally amazed at how small it was, it was almost shoulder to shoulder stuff, crikey. Not much room in here for a bald bloke with a tummy bug, I thought.
My pilot took me through the pre-flight checks and was telling me something about magnetos and beacons, it sounded like a selection from the ice cream van rather than important pre-flight know how.
Anyway, we eventually started the aircraft and the old girl shuddered into life. Hang on a second, I’m not afraid, I’m actually quite excited. I like this, this is good, I’ve got the hang of it now. Right, let’s taxi. Oh God, we’re moving!! As we trundled along towards runway 27 I was asked to have a go at steering the aircraft using the rudder pedals, it’s dead easy this flying lark you know, left peddle down, we go left, right peddle down, we go right. Oops, left peddle, right, left, left a bit more right, the tower must have thought we’d been drinking!! We pulled up before getting onto runway 27 for some more checks, we ran the engine up, and pulled some things, twisted some knobs and er… something else. As we sat there waiting to go the plane started chugging up and down and I thought, “Oh no, I feel a bit sick.” We were stationary for Christ sake, how pathetic am I?
We eventually backtracked the main runway and lined up ready for the off, this is it, no turning back, will I be sick? Will the other end behave? Where’s my plastic bag? Oh pants, how can I get out of this.
We let go of the brakes and off we went, I was actually concerned about the lack of forward speed and when we got airborne at 65 knots I was amazed, on a good hill with the wind behind me, I could do that on my push bike, well almost. This was it, we’re in the air, did I mention I’m scared of heights too? So many issues, so little time.
We were in the air and climbing, slowly. This is fun, I like it, crikey why did we just go sideways? Why did we just drop? Now we’re sideways again, then up and down. This is no 737. You see the thing is, I’ve only ever flown in airliners where you get smooth, fast flight and no yaw and to be all of a sudden immersed in a totally alien world where you are at the mercy of every thermal and every gust. There is a surprising amount of movement, well surprising to me but given the diminutive size of the Tomahawk, I should have know.
Ian then said the words, “Would you like to fly?” "Erm no thanks." I replied. "Go on have a try", he said. So I took control with a vice like grip. I squeezed those plastic controls, so hard I think a little bit of plastic juice dripped out. I was very nervous. I mean, I’m holding the controls completely straight and steady and the thing is pitching, yawing and a dropping all over the place. It was kind of like driving along a very straight invisible road that was up and down like a yo-yo. We suddenly dropped quite rapidly, “I don’t like it”, I said, far easier to say than, “You have control”, but hey, I’m a novice at this, how was I to know?
We went on a tour of some of the highlights of the north Nottinghamshire area which was great, we even passed another aircraft, to our left and a little higher. In fact I loved the experience and the only slight concern was a Cessna 172 that was heading towards us on a perpendicular course, in the end he was a long way off but it all adds to the fun of the fair. This is real flying, you need to keep your eyes peeled, I thought!
We flew around for nearly an hour, my pilot often mentioning the fuel, "yes I think we've got enough", most reassuring I'm sure you'll agree. We turned this way, that way, went up a bit, down a bit and then I suddenly thought, "Where the hell is the airfield? How on earth do we find it again?" What I found is that when we were up in the air, all the familiar landmarks I knew from the ground suddenly meant nothing to me. Admittedly all the instruments were on the left but I couldn't have told you if I was going north or south!
"How do you find the airfield?" I said. "It's just that way, can't you see it?" asked Ian. Well I couldn't and I think I have fairly good eyesight, thank goodness he knows where he's going. I wonder if my Tom Tom would work up here I thought?
The airfield eventually appeared in front of us and my pilot made the call to the tower, "Echo, Barbecue, Teakettle, this is Glue, Paper, Scissors, Stone" or something like that, "Rubber, Glue, Paper, Scissors, Stone, cleared runway 27, C&A 1026, PDQ, DFS, TTFN", was the reply, well it sounded a bit like that, I wish I knew what they meant? We were in the circuit with clearance to land, this was just great, we flew a left hand circuit as we descended rapidly, my pilot deployed the flaps with an agricultural clunk - this is hands on flying here, no motorised stuff for us. We touched down at around 85-90 knots with a gentle bump; we'd landed!
I had taken the controls on three occasions and you know what, I absolutely loved it. Okay, I did mostly fly straight and level, the turning business and climbing and descending are for another time but I’d had a go at flying a plane. Me, Mr Nausea, Mr Stomach Bug, Mr Terrified had flown a plane, not been sick, not had any incidents further south and in the end wasn’t particularly terrified!!
When can I do it again?
GAR wants to interact with its readers so if you have a question for the author or a comment to make on this feature, please click on the button below. The best comments will appear right here on GAR.2009-11-18 - phil charlton
Nice one - I did a computer course about 10 years ago, with a guy who had a 3rd share in a T-67 Firefly. took me up one Saturday from Newcastle. After being airborne for about 10 mins, we were discussing the loss of 3 similar aircraft by the USAF following failed spin recoveries. To prove his point, a practical demo was called for. Rolling inverted and going nose down we did a 3 spin recovery from 4500ft, pulling out after about 1500ft without any problem.
Then, after making sure I was OK, followed his whole aerobatic sequence: stall turn, loop, cuban8, split S, hesitation roll, the full monty, just like being in, rather than at, an airshow! At the top of the stall turn, I got a big shock that I wasnt expecting - weightlessness - zero G. An absolutely phenomenal feeling, that seemed to last for ages as we fell back before the rudder bit the air and threw us sideways!
Although my straps were tight on take off, after we pulled out of the loop, I managed another inch. Its most unusual to see cows in a field through the top of the canopy, and by this time i was grinning like a maniac.
After levelling out and making our way back towards NCL, we called approach to be told we were No 2 to a Cessna, which i quickly spotted about 3 miles ahead, slightly off to our right. We were told to orbit until visual with the traffic, which we did. All the gyrations we had just done had left me totally unaffected, but that gentle banking turn almost did me in.
I requested in no uncertain terms, that we fly strait and level lest i decorate the cockpit, and pointed out the cessna so we could comply with the ATC instructions, we then joined the circuit and landed.
The G meter registered something over 5 and a bit after we landed, and on the way home I realised that my watch had stopped. I had it checked later, and the jeweller basically said it something had killed it, and I had to get a new one. It was fine before then, and personally I blame either the -1 or 5+ Gs we pulled, but after that, even the worst turbulance i come across in 73s or Airbuses is tame, and really was the best flight ive ever had. Sadly its never been repeated, although i'd jump in a heartbeat.
A final note, I was once slapped across the back of the head by a stewardess for telling the nervous (attractive) white knuckled young lady flyer I was sat next to that the flexing of the wing really wasnt anything to worry about, while sat reading the story about the BA 747 that hit a volcanic ash cloud at night some years back and had a full 4 engined flameout at FL370. Now that must have been a mind focussing flight.
2009-11-03 - Steve Coe
Great article Geoff. Can really empathise as had a similar experience on my birthday recently, unlike you though I was happy not to touch the controls!
2009-11-03 - Gareth- TM
Very amusing and entertaining report there Geoffrey and well done for manning up and getting airborne at last.
Next stop will be to do some real flying- ROTARY- lot less bovver in the hover! (ask Karl!)
2009-11-03 - Bill Ramsey
Looks like Geoff is about ready to loop and roll with Team Tutor - the aircraft looks much the same! Well done!
Bill Ramsey
Tutor Display Pilot 2009-2010
2009-11-03 - Jenny Coffey
Brilliantly written and very funny, especially the radio bit ;o) I have fun with my phonetic alphabet. Very brave too! I put my first flight off for years, actually being scared to fly! After having a flight in a Bulldog from Shoreham I was hooked and have now nearly completed my PPL! It's one thing taking photos of these beauties and admiring them, but it's another dimension to fly them ;o)
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