Its 9th May 1978 and I clatter down the ladder from Vulcan XM570 for the final time after three years and 760 hours on the aircraft. Perhaps a fond look back, then I'm off on my quest to become an RAF fast-jet pilot, believing my Vulcan days are over.
Fast forward 33 years and another 5000 flying hours and, in a chance encounter during February of this year, it was suggested that maybe I could fly with the crew of XH558 this season. You need to understand that I have already been incredibly lucky over the last 12 years or so, flying the Lancaster and C-47 with the BBMF, spending four years as The Red Arrows senior supervisor and then, finally, doing the last two seasons as the RAF's 2009/2010 Tutor solo display pilot.
I thought I was destined to wind down gently, getting on with my day job of training Grob Tutor flying instructors for my last couple of working years. However, three months later, having acquired a civilian pilot's licence and then an exemption from the CAA to fly what they quaintly call "Vulcan Aeroplanes" (so if anyone has a second serviceable Vulcan at the bottom of the garden, you know who to call!), I find myself at a cold and windy Bruntingthorpe airfield face-to-face with the still menacing presence of a Vulcan bomber - one I'm fragged to fly later that day; luckily after the Cold War Jets Open Day crowd will have gone home!
Briefly I consider that half the fuel in one of the Vulcan's 14 tanks weighs more than the miniscule Tutor with a full fuel load and two pilots in it, but there's no time to dwell on that as I join the rest of the crew in meeting what seems like hundreds of 558's fanatically loyal supporters. Big thanks to all of you by the way!
Early in the afternoon Captain Kevin Rumens sits me down in the cockpit, covers the essential safety points and runs through the pre-flight checks to aid my first go later on. Oh so casually he mentions that the sortie profile will involve me doing the take-off and also the landing back at Robin Hood / Finningley. I try not to show my surprise as I had imagined Kev would probably do those bits and I'm keenly aware that the 25 knot wind down the runway at Bruntingthorpe will be 25 knots across the runway at Robin Hood - much less than ideal for a first go in three decades.
After a short crew brief with Kev and the heroic Barry and Sponge who will be in the back of the bomber for this sortie, I take a quiet moment to enjoy an ice cream cornet and then force my way through the crowds to 558, now positioned on the end of the runway - good to go. Oh - the crowd, you guessed it, no-one was going anywhere until after the take-off - no pressure there then!
Finally the litany of pre-flight checks and the ritual of starting the engines is complete and Kev brings the take off moment to very imminent with the time worn invitation to the Crew Chief to clear the aircraft and display a 'thumbs up' on the starboard side. He invites me to take control and releases the parking brake - this is it, no hiding place!
Somewhat tentatively, I ease the four shiny throttle levers forward and, gently at first, 558 accelerates down the runway. Kev calls "100 kts" and then almost immediately "135, rotate". No need for me to help her, this lightweight Vulcan (we used to operate it with an additional 70000lbs or so of fuel on board) is practically already airborne.
Gear up and then the brief was for me to level off at 160 kts and 1000 feet. No chance!! I finally regain some control at 1800 feet and 250 knots - this isn't for the faint-hearted. After quick right and then left hand turns (yep, it still has an amazing roll rate for such a big aircraft) and some wise words from Kev, we arrive at Leicester Airport for some practice approaches. They seem to go alright and prompt an "awesome" from the air traffic controller - but not specifically for me I fear!
As we progress back towards Robin Hood Kev takes control to demonstrate some low speed handling in the pre-stall buffet with lots of rudder applied. This was not an everyday experience for squadron crews and for me, as a Tutor pilot these days, terrifying. If you're wondering why, well, those actions in a Tutor will provoke an immediate flick departure, but the old girl behaves beautifully. Now we're approaching Robin Hood and yes, the wind is just as I had feared.
No worries; Kev is bound to chicken out and take control - obviously. But he doesn't, although he is talking to me soothingly! So, we line up on final approach and I select High Drag Airbrake (another worry for me as I often used to transpose this by accident to High Brag Airdrake - provoking much derision from the rest of the crew).
Now the real concern. If you imagine sitting in a Tutor on the ground to be like sitting on a roller skate, sitting in a Vulcan would be like the upstairs front seats of a double-decker bus by comparison. So, to land you must start to flare the aircraft that much higher. With a small prompt from Kev I flare 558 at an impossible height and resign myself to waiting for the one and only airworthy Vulcan to clatter onto the runway in a heap of bits. To my astonishment the wheels immediately kiss the tarmac in a beautiful, but flukey, landing.
So what was it like? I don't really have the words to be honest, but I can't wait to do it again. Huge thanks to everyone who has made it possible - I'm really looking forward to my time with the crew of "The Spirit of Great Britain".
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