My passion
My passion
My passion has always been what
is loosely known as adventure
flying. To fly to every corner of this vast continent, and well beyond the shores. Many pilots are uncomfortable over Bass Strait or even Spencer Gulf or Port Phillip Bay. Over-water “engine rough” is nothing more than neural trickery but it can be debilitating. I feel very fortunate that it doesn’t affect me—in fact flight over water is generally extremely smooth without the turbulence associated with changing terrain. Air temperatures are constant, and air currents far more predictable. And contrary to popular belief, an aircraft does not know if it is over water or land!
I had spent three months planning to fly theUGlyDuckling solo to Norfolk Island, for a “fly-in” to commemorate 75 years of the RAF’s involvement in the protection of that territory. My wife Heather, was not happy with the “solo” idea, but knew before we got married that one of my ambitions was to fly solo round the world in a single engined aircraft with standard factory long tange tanks, which UGD has. (182 litres useable fuel which at 33 litres an hour fuel-burn gives a total endurance of 5.5 hours, or a range of 550 nautical miles with a ground speed of 100 knots. Extra endurance can be achieved by leaning the mixture at altitude and range increased if the winds are favourable.)
Not many people take me seriously, but it IS possible to fly RTW i.e. cross every degree of longitude with no single leg greater than 450 nm. I have discussed this with Dick Smith, Peter Norvill (1st to fly RTW solo in a C172), and Gabby Kennard, the first woman to fly solo RTW in a single engined Piper Saratoga. And of course I have an autographed copy of the late Louise Sarchi’s book—“Ocean Flying”, which is the bible for distance flight over water.
I DID however make serious efforts to find a co-pilot. No local takers, but after advertising I met a bloke who seemed keen to go with me. A commercial pilot with instructor and command instrument ratings. We had lunch together a couple of times, made many plans, and it seemed I wouldn’t be going solo after all!! Then with only ten days to go, he pulled the pin due to “work commitments” (perhaps another term for second thoughts). Heather wasn’t happy about this, but deep down I was.
The event had been widely publicised, and yet only 19 aircraft had registered to fly from Australia, plus a few from New Zealand which is a bit closer. Of that 19, seven were the Roulettes (six plus a spare aircraft for the airshow); also Dick Smith, Jon Johanssen and Barry Hempel, all household names in aviation.
Most of the singles had planned to leave the coast at Coffs Harbour and fly to Norfolk via Lord Howe Island. Through the registration list, I “met” Ron Aurish, who would be flying a Piper PA28 single with extra ferry tanks, and taking a “friend”.
I arranged to fly to Coffs on Friday 19th April and stay the night with Ron. Early next morning, weather permitting, we would fly to Lord Howe (300nm), top up fuel, and continue on to Norfolk Island, a further 500nm. This would be 800nm ocean flying for the day!! John Lewis (Cessna 182 RG with HF radios) would leave half an hour after Ron and I on both legs and we would then have radio contact via him with Brisbane control all the way to LHI, and with Auckland all the way from there to Norfolk.
I ordered a Magellan yoke-mounted GPS which arrived only seven days before the flight, new technology (at the time) which would require some serious practice. Other mandatory equipment included my ELB (EPIRB), life jacket, and a hired raft. Couldn’t locate a CASA approved small life raft, so eventually hired a NINE MAN raft from Fred Blake at Moorabin. Complete with 5 litres water, 5 days rations, first aid kit, smoke and colored flares, a torch and fishing tackle!! I’m buggered if I intended going fishing.
The “Blow-up Lady” weighted 24Kg, was about the size of 2 rolled-up sleeping bags, and sat in the co-pilot seat belted up. Over water it was tied to my waist, but would have been near impossible to get out with if needed.!!
I took off from Kyneton at 8am on Friday 19th April in very ordinary weather, which as usual greatly improved about abeam Benalla and just got better and better all day. I tracked via Albury to Cowra and landed there to top up the tanks and empty the bladder.
It was then on over Mudgee, then some very high tiger country over Taree, and then coastal to Coffs which of course has a Control Tower and on landing I was directed to the local aeroclub parking bay.
Ron Aurish was there to meet me and after phoning Heather and topping the tanks to the brim and tying down, we spent a few bob in the bar—it was bloody hot!! It was about 3pm and the customs and quarantine guys were coming at 4pm to clear us for beyond LHI. John Lewis arrived just in time for customs, which was a pretty casual affair.
Then it was off to Ron’s place in Coffs where his wife cooked us a great steak dinner, then into some serious meteorology. There had been a big low almost stationary over the ocean for about a week, but the bureau reckoned it was starting to move East. We ordered up to the minute Avfaxes right to Norfolk, to be sent to us at 4:30am Coffs time. This would be our early morning call.
I don’t think any of us slept very well, and when the Fax/Phone rang we all jumped out of bed as 50 metres of fax paper spewed onto the floor. John Lewis had done this trip before, plus Tonga, Fiji, Noumea and most of the Pacific so we let him do most of the analysis. As Ron was putting the coffee on he noticed it was 3:30am and not 4:30, but we decided to stay up.
The route to LHI was definitely CAVOK so we phoned Norfolk Island Control at 5am our time (6:30 there) to get an “actual”. It was still pretty crappy there, but the huge low was moving towards NZ, as shown on our Avfax satellite maps. We would fly to LHI and re-assess.
After coffee and toast, we headed off to the airport in the pitch dark. After very thorough pre-flights, we lodged our domestic flight plans to LHI, and then my 1st INTERNATIONAL flight plan—LHI to NI.!! Coffs Tower wasn’t open yet, so after thorough warm-ups, Ron and I both used the VERY long East/West runway, taking off WITH a little breeze, so we were over water immediately after lift-off, right on 6am!! 315nm to run to LHI.
We were well out over a calm sea when the sun rose. It was a beautiful sight, but right into our eyes for quite a while. I found my best ground speed at 7000 feet and was actually getting 130 kts for a while. Ron, with a passenger, extra fuel and gear, was having trouble keeping up with me however we remained in sight of each other most of the way. We were talking on the VHF chat frequency (123.45), and when John Lewis and wife Maxine took off from Coffs at 6:30am we were all able to chat. They passed above us at 10000 feet above fluffy Cu over a beautiful blue ocean.
I was starting to master the GPS and the oceanic charts which have mythical waypoints about every 100nm. These were punched into the GPS ---“Possum” and “Bilby” between Coffs and LHI. Possum came up in under an hour, and Bilby in well under two. 115 miles to run to LHI, and we both had the LHI NDB on our ADF’s.
We got LHI visually 25nm out—looked like 2 mountains jutting out of the ocean with a gap between which we assumed would be the runway. I recalled all the doom and gloom in ERSA “One sealed runway—10/28, 1Km. Due topography LHI certain wind conditions may generate severe turbulence in approach to runway and preclude a safe landing. Only safe course of action is to divert to a mainland aerodrome!!!!!!! Met is unable to forecast severe turbulence in all cases. Moderate to severe orographic turbulence when free stream winds in excess of 12kt.”!!!!
From tourist brochures we had checked out all the beaches as a diversion ANYWHERE was impossible. Today things looked pretty benign and so we overflew and even though all three socks were out at right angles in three directions, we joined downwind for runway 10. Hardly a pothole on final, so we both did greasers and taxied to the refueler. It was 9am EST—exactly 3 hours from Coffs.
The 182 was already on the ground and re-fueled, so while the re-fueler filled our tanks, we went to the terminal to empty ours, and then to phone our wives. Un-pressurised decent from altitude constricts bladder smooth muscle, and things can get pretty urgent!! Avgas was $1.63/l on LHI.
We then had a quick conference re: going on. There is an excellent weather station on the field, so we visited the met man. There was still a low over NI, but as we had five hours flying the consensus was that it would have passed towards Auckland by then. The satellite pictures seemed to confirm this. The visible weather looked brilliant so Ron and I were back in the air within half an hour. John Lewis in the 182 gave us a half hour start again.
We climbed into a cloudless sky and set heading for Norfolk Island---483 miles to run to the next speck of land, with a few unpronounceable waypoints inbetween. I think one was “Teepo”-possibly a NZ breed of sheep.
For the first two hours the weather was superb and we were maintaining a good 100kts ground speed. John was soon in front again and so we now had contact with Auckland, and also stayed on our chat frequency. He reported a “build-up” ahead, but was well above it at 15000 feet.
Before long, Ron and I, at 7000 feet, found ourselves above scattered Cu, which became broken, and then layered stratus. I would have rathered stay on top, but he reckoned he could get a better ground speed down lower. We descended and so did the weather. I didn’t see clear blue sky again until my second day on Norfolk!! I was now well past my PNR.
The weather was getting worse by the minute, we had lost visual contact but GPS readings put me about 4 nm in front. Ron, with heaps of extra fuel, was still higher but in poor vis also. With 183 nm to run (i.e. 300 nm from LHI, I was down to 1000 feet in showers and cloud, and then pissing rain.
I was in total IMC for over an hour and apart from the “clocks” and GPS had lost all sense of direction. Worse still, my ground speed had dropped to a maximum of 75 and minimum of 65kts!!
At least the rain was easing and I now had a visibility of about a mile, but both fuel gauges were wavering just above empty as the GPS clicked 100 miles to run!! Whilst Cessna tank gauges are notoriously unrealiable to read unless wings are level in still air, things were getting very serious. I made contact with Norfolk control and advised “possibly fuel critical” and requested a priority straight-in approach. This was immediately granted by “Pinkie” the local controller who wanted regular updates on my position and distance to run.
I pressed on in increasing rain, decreasing light and visibility, and before long I found I had a RAN Orion on my starboard wingtip and a C410 inbound from Brisbane on my port wingtip. The Orion pilot had all sorts of instructions and advice for me which did nothing to help my personal struggle; as far as I was concerned they were as useless as tits on a bull. This was no time for further flying instruction!!
I kept glancing at the GPS nm to run----89.9…89.8, then much later 20.0, 19.9, 19.8… and so on. It is the longest f-ck—g approach I have ever made. Finally the island came into view through the pouring rain, and then the main runway, right on the nose! I flew over the threshold at 500 feet, poked the nose down steeply and I swear to this day that the engine gave one little cough as the fuel ran forward in the wings. As I flared and rolled to the parking bay, the engine ran smoothly again.
When I refuelled, I had 16 litres useable remaining; just over half an hour endurance!!
Perhaps my arrival was the most noted, as it was still just before dusk. However, there were several others worth noting. A Long Eze pilot lost the plot and could’t find the Island initially, and when he did, couldn’t find the runway until people stood at the threshold with flares to guide him down. The weather got worse as darkness fell.
One of Barry Hempels girls in a Soukoi touched down and almost nosed over, embedding three prop blades in the tarmac!! And later on an Ansett 737 full of tourists couldn’t get in and had to return to Brisbane, and an Air New Zealand B737 tried two approaches and then returned to Auckland!!. It was well and truly dark by now, heavy rain and fog, and there is no ILS at Norfolk
Later that night we were guests of the Services Club, and the Orion crew, in full uniform, came over to me starting to read the riot act!!! “ You don’t realise how much it costs to fly an Orion out to help you etc etc etc!!!” SHIT!!—I had been up since 3:30AM, had flown for over eight hours, and I didn’t need this!! In the most polite way, I reminded them that I didn’t ask them to come out to meet me, that they were bloody useless, they added to my considerable stress, and would they kindly f-ck off!! Later, they apologised and bought me a drink!!
(The next two pages outlined my stay on Norfolk, the airshow and celebrations, a gala concert, and some great locals who billeted me. The return trip was uneventful, in good weather, and I spend a great day and night on LHI , a brilliant unspoilt Australian sub-tropical Island.)
Just before take-off from LHI for Coffs, I visited the mens at squeeze the lemons. Amongst many aviation related stickers on the wall there was a US Airforce one which I will never forget, and which I often quote. It read simply----
flying. To fly to every corner of this vast continent, and well beyond the shores. Many pilots are uncomfortable over Bass Strait or even Spencer Gulf or Port Phillip Bay. Over-water “engine rough” is nothing more than neural trickery but it can be debilitating. I feel very fortunate that it doesn’t affect me—in fact flight over water is generally extremely smooth without the turbulence associated with changing terrain. Air temperatures are constant, and air currents far more predictable. And contrary to popular belief, an aircraft does not know if it is over water or land!
I had spent three months planning to fly theUGlyDuckling solo to Norfolk Island, for a “fly-in” to commemorate 75 years of the RAF’s involvement in the protection of that territory. My wife Heather, was not happy with the “solo” idea, but knew before we got married that one of my ambitions was to fly solo round the world in a single engined aircraft with standard factory long tange tanks, which UGD has. (182 litres useable fuel which at 33 litres an hour fuel-burn gives a total endurance of 5.5 hours, or a range of 550 nautical miles with a ground speed of 100 knots. Extra endurance can be achieved by leaning the mixture at altitude and range increased if the winds are favourable.)
Not many people take me seriously, but it IS possible to fly RTW i.e. cross every degree of longitude with no single leg greater than 450 nm. I have discussed this with Dick Smith, Peter Norvill (1st to fly RTW solo in a C172), and Gabby Kennard, the first woman to fly solo RTW in a single engined Piper Saratoga. And of course I have an autographed copy of the late Louise Sarchi’s book—“Ocean Flying”, which is the bible for distance flight over water.
I DID however make serious efforts to find a co-pilot. No local takers, but after advertising I met a bloke who seemed keen to go with me. A commercial pilot with instructor and command instrument ratings. We had lunch together a couple of times, made many plans, and it seemed I wouldn’t be going solo after all!! Then with only ten days to go, he pulled the pin due to “work commitments” (perhaps another term for second thoughts). Heather wasn’t happy about this, but deep down I was.
The event had been widely publicised, and yet only 19 aircraft had registered to fly from Australia, plus a few from New Zealand which is a bit closer. Of that 19, seven were the Roulettes (six plus a spare aircraft for the airshow); also Dick Smith, Jon Johanssen and Barry Hempel, all household names in aviation.
Most of the singles had planned to leave the coast at Coffs Harbour and fly to Norfolk via Lord Howe Island. Through the registration list, I “met” Ron Aurish, who would be flying a Piper PA28 single with extra ferry tanks, and taking a “friend”.
I arranged to fly to Coffs on Friday 19th April and stay the night with Ron. Early next morning, weather permitting, we would fly to Lord Howe (300nm), top up fuel, and continue on to Norfolk Island, a further 500nm. This would be 800nm ocean flying for the day!! John Lewis (Cessna 182 RG with HF radios) would leave half an hour after Ron and I on both legs and we would then have radio contact via him with Brisbane control all the way to LHI, and with Auckland all the way from there to Norfolk.
I ordered a Magellan yoke-mounted GPS which arrived only seven days before the flight, new technology (at the time) which would require some serious practice. Other mandatory equipment included my ELB (EPIRB), life jacket, and a hired raft. Couldn’t locate a CASA approved small life raft, so eventually hired a NINE MAN raft from Fred Blake at Moorabin. Complete with 5 litres water, 5 days rations, first aid kit, smoke and colored flares, a torch and fishing tackle!! I’m buggered if I intended going fishing.
The “Blow-up Lady” weighted 24Kg, was about the size of 2 rolled-up sleeping bags, and sat in the co-pilot seat belted up. Over water it was tied to my waist, but would have been near impossible to get out with if needed.!!
I took off from Kyneton at 8am on Friday 19th April in very ordinary weather, which as usual greatly improved about abeam Benalla and just got better and better all day. I tracked via Albury to Cowra and landed there to top up the tanks and empty the bladder.
It was then on over Mudgee, then some very high tiger country over Taree, and then coastal to Coffs which of course has a Control Tower and on landing I was directed to the local aeroclub parking bay.
Ron Aurish was there to meet me and after phoning Heather and topping the tanks to the brim and tying down, we spent a few bob in the bar—it was bloody hot!! It was about 3pm and the customs and quarantine guys were coming at 4pm to clear us for beyond LHI. John Lewis arrived just in time for customs, which was a pretty casual affair.
Then it was off to Ron’s place in Coffs where his wife cooked us a great steak dinner, then into some serious meteorology. There had been a big low almost stationary over the ocean for about a week, but the bureau reckoned it was starting to move East. We ordered up to the minute Avfaxes right to Norfolk, to be sent to us at 4:30am Coffs time. This would be our early morning call.
I don’t think any of us slept very well, and when the Fax/Phone rang we all jumped out of bed as 50 metres of fax paper spewed onto the floor. John Lewis had done this trip before, plus Tonga, Fiji, Noumea and most of the Pacific so we let him do most of the analysis. As Ron was putting the coffee on he noticed it was 3:30am and not 4:30, but we decided to stay up.
The route to LHI was definitely CAVOK so we phoned Norfolk Island Control at 5am our time (6:30 there) to get an “actual”. It was still pretty crappy there, but the huge low was moving towards NZ, as shown on our Avfax satellite maps. We would fly to LHI and re-assess.
After coffee and toast, we headed off to the airport in the pitch dark. After very thorough pre-flights, we lodged our domestic flight plans to LHI, and then my 1st INTERNATIONAL flight plan—LHI to NI.!! Coffs Tower wasn’t open yet, so after thorough warm-ups, Ron and I both used the VERY long East/West runway, taking off WITH a little breeze, so we were over water immediately after lift-off, right on 6am!! 315nm to run to LHI.
We were well out over a calm sea when the sun rose. It was a beautiful sight, but right into our eyes for quite a while. I found my best ground speed at 7000 feet and was actually getting 130 kts for a while. Ron, with a passenger, extra fuel and gear, was having trouble keeping up with me however we remained in sight of each other most of the way. We were talking on the VHF chat frequency (123.45), and when John Lewis and wife Maxine took off from Coffs at 6:30am we were all able to chat. They passed above us at 10000 feet above fluffy Cu over a beautiful blue ocean.
I was starting to master the GPS and the oceanic charts which have mythical waypoints about every 100nm. These were punched into the GPS ---“Possum” and “Bilby” between Coffs and LHI. Possum came up in under an hour, and Bilby in well under two. 115 miles to run to LHI, and we both had the LHI NDB on our ADF’s.
We got LHI visually 25nm out—looked like 2 mountains jutting out of the ocean with a gap between which we assumed would be the runway. I recalled all the doom and gloom in ERSA “One sealed runway—10/28, 1Km. Due topography LHI certain wind conditions may generate severe turbulence in approach to runway and preclude a safe landing. Only safe course of action is to divert to a mainland aerodrome!!!!!!! Met is unable to forecast severe turbulence in all cases. Moderate to severe orographic turbulence when free stream winds in excess of 12kt.”!!!!
From tourist brochures we had checked out all the beaches as a diversion ANYWHERE was impossible. Today things looked pretty benign and so we overflew and even though all three socks were out at right angles in three directions, we joined downwind for runway 10. Hardly a pothole on final, so we both did greasers and taxied to the refueler. It was 9am EST—exactly 3 hours from Coffs.
The 182 was already on the ground and re-fueled, so while the re-fueler filled our tanks, we went to the terminal to empty ours, and then to phone our wives. Un-pressurised decent from altitude constricts bladder smooth muscle, and things can get pretty urgent!! Avgas was $1.63/l on LHI.
We then had a quick conference re: going on. There is an excellent weather station on the field, so we visited the met man. There was still a low over NI, but as we had five hours flying the consensus was that it would have passed towards Auckland by then. The satellite pictures seemed to confirm this. The visible weather looked brilliant so Ron and I were back in the air within half an hour. John Lewis in the 182 gave us a half hour start again.
We climbed into a cloudless sky and set heading for Norfolk Island---483 miles to run to the next speck of land, with a few unpronounceable waypoints inbetween. I think one was “Teepo”-possibly a NZ breed of sheep.
For the first two hours the weather was superb and we were maintaining a good 100kts ground speed. John was soon in front again and so we now had contact with Auckland, and also stayed on our chat frequency. He reported a “build-up” ahead, but was well above it at 15000 feet.
Before long, Ron and I, at 7000 feet, found ourselves above scattered Cu, which became broken, and then layered stratus. I would have rathered stay on top, but he reckoned he could get a better ground speed down lower. We descended and so did the weather. I didn’t see clear blue sky again until my second day on Norfolk!! I was now well past my PNR.
The weather was getting worse by the minute, we had lost visual contact but GPS readings put me about 4 nm in front. Ron, with heaps of extra fuel, was still higher but in poor vis also. With 183 nm to run (i.e. 300 nm from LHI, I was down to 1000 feet in showers and cloud, and then pissing rain.
I was in total IMC for over an hour and apart from the “clocks” and GPS had lost all sense of direction. Worse still, my ground speed had dropped to a maximum of 75 and minimum of 65kts!!
At least the rain was easing and I now had a visibility of about a mile, but both fuel gauges were wavering just above empty as the GPS clicked 100 miles to run!! Whilst Cessna tank gauges are notoriously unrealiable to read unless wings are level in still air, things were getting very serious. I made contact with Norfolk control and advised “possibly fuel critical” and requested a priority straight-in approach. This was immediately granted by “Pinkie” the local controller who wanted regular updates on my position and distance to run.
I pressed on in increasing rain, decreasing light and visibility, and before long I found I had a RAN Orion on my starboard wingtip and a C410 inbound from Brisbane on my port wingtip. The Orion pilot had all sorts of instructions and advice for me which did nothing to help my personal struggle; as far as I was concerned they were as useless as tits on a bull. This was no time for further flying instruction!!
I kept glancing at the GPS nm to run----89.9…89.8, then much later 20.0, 19.9, 19.8… and so on. It is the longest f-ck—g approach I have ever made. Finally the island came into view through the pouring rain, and then the main runway, right on the nose! I flew over the threshold at 500 feet, poked the nose down steeply and I swear to this day that the engine gave one little cough as the fuel ran forward in the wings. As I flared and rolled to the parking bay, the engine ran smoothly again.
When I refuelled, I had 16 litres useable remaining; just over half an hour endurance!!
Perhaps my arrival was the most noted, as it was still just before dusk. However, there were several others worth noting. A Long Eze pilot lost the plot and could’t find the Island initially, and when he did, couldn’t find the runway until people stood at the threshold with flares to guide him down. The weather got worse as darkness fell.
One of Barry Hempels girls in a Soukoi touched down and almost nosed over, embedding three prop blades in the tarmac!! And later on an Ansett 737 full of tourists couldn’t get in and had to return to Brisbane, and an Air New Zealand B737 tried two approaches and then returned to Auckland!!. It was well and truly dark by now, heavy rain and fog, and there is no ILS at Norfolk
Later that night we were guests of the Services Club, and the Orion crew, in full uniform, came over to me starting to read the riot act!!! “ You don’t realise how much it costs to fly an Orion out to help you etc etc etc!!!” SHIT!!—I had been up since 3:30AM, had flown for over eight hours, and I didn’t need this!! In the most polite way, I reminded them that I didn’t ask them to come out to meet me, that they were bloody useless, they added to my considerable stress, and would they kindly f-ck off!! Later, they apologised and bought me a drink!!
(The next two pages outlined my stay on Norfolk, the airshow and celebrations, a gala concert, and some great locals who billeted me. The return trip was uneventful, in good weather, and I spend a great day and night on LHI , a brilliant unspoilt Australian sub-tropical Island.)
Just before take-off from LHI for Coffs, I visited the mens at squeeze the lemons. Amongst many aviation related stickers on the wall there was a US Airforce one which I will never forget, and which I often quote. It read simply----
“LIFE IS
NOT A REHEARSAL”.
