A lifetime of adventure…

Where did your interest in aviation start?

I was brought up on a farm in rural Surrey. My parent’s cottage was very close to the airstrip at Rydinghurst Farm. At that time Rydinghurst Farm was owned by a thirsty ex-Fleet Air Arm pilot who used to periodically sell things to finance his hobby – my parents buying the farm cottage must have kept him awash for a month or two. The airstrip was in regular use and I spent most weekends there as a hedge guest. At some point in the early 1980s Bob Turnbull bought the airstrip and his immaculate Aeronca Sedan G-AREX arrived shortly thereafter.

In 1985 I left school and took an apprenticeship, becoming an engineering apprentice with the MoD in Aldershot. The first year of apprentice training was almost entirely at the bench. I enjoyed turning chunks of scaly steel into things of some beauty; polished and oiled, they still take pride of place on a shelf above my lathe in the shop. After that we did several months in all of the different shops before being assigned a three year stint in our chosen trade. I didn’t actually want to specialise in any particular MoD trade, so I spent a happy three years dodging between the machine shop, the welding shop and the tin bashers (a super bunch of old geezers who did all the interesting jobs that couldn’t be assigned elsewhere) learning as much as I could. The foreman in charge of all three shops thoroughly approved of my flying, and arranged with the CO that flying lessons and anything flying related should be considered as further education. At the same time Bob Turnbull had introduced me to Geoff Masterton, who ran Light Aircraft Services at Rushetts Farm. Geoff and I hit it off instantly, so as soon as I finished my apprenticeship I went to work for him.

When was your first flight?

It was with Mike Macey in his Auster 5 G-ANHR at Shoreham in 1973. I was an aeroplane-mad four-year-old and my uncle Keith paid for the ride, along with himself and dad (his brother). Dad didn’t actually like flying – never has – but it left a lasting impression on me.

Where did you do your flight training?

I learned to fly at Goodwood School of Flying, between 1988 and 1990. I was an impecunious apprentice and paid my own way so it took a bit longer than it should. With hindsight I ought to have saved for a year or so before starting, but the bug had bitten badly and there’s only one remedy. My licence was issued in October 1990, by December I’d been checked out in a Super Cub by Geoff Masterton and Pete Kynsey, and in the next three years got to fly all manner of machines, mainly vintage. Geoff was a brilliant engineer and pilot, less so a businessman. Cash flow was always an issue, so I went to work for an engineering firm and helped Geoff in my spare time.

How did you hear about the LAA?

There was a Popular Flying magazine in the rack at Goodwood, I guess it was in 1989. It was full of my sort of thing and it all seemed quite accessible. I swiped the magazine and joined shortly after.

I understand you help at Bodmin?

Most childhood holidays were spent on a farm on the edge of Dartmoor. I adored the West Country, it was rocky, wild and interesting in a way that rural Surrey could never be, and it was no hardship to move to Cornwall. We live in Lostwithiel and I instruct at Bodmin for a few days most months. Having joined the LAA Coaching scheme as a CRI in 2011 it was a natural step to become a flying instructor. Bodmin is a great airfield and is owned and run by the members. There’s a lot of LAA aircraft based locally and I’m very involved with test flying and differences / familiarisation training.

What aircraft have you owned?

My first aircraft was Aeronca Champ G-ATHK, which I bought in a moment of madness in 1991. I rebuilt the wings and empennage, overhauled the motor and flew it until 1997. Stupidly I sold it due to hangarage issues at the time and have regretted it ever since. It was a great machine. Some time later I bought a Currie Wot, G-AYMP. It was supposedly up and going but actually needed far more work than envisaged. Due to various changes in life (marriage, children) it got shoved on the back burner and moved along in 2007. Of course, what I really wanted was a lightweight Currie Wot with a two cylinder motor like the prototype. With the advent of single-seat deregulation such things have become easily possible and I’ve now got a Praga B powered ‘Super NotWot’ under construction in the shop. Steel tube fuselage too, which makes construction so much easier and is very light. The Praga B motor is ideal as, thanks to the use of magnesium alloy, it’s even lighter than the Jap J99 and gives a whopping 40hp. I also have an Aeronca C2 well underway, made from as much original stuff as possible.

I first saw my Aeronca C3 G-AEFT in the delightful BBC TV film Flying For Fun, made in 1986. It was love at first sight and by dint of good fortune I had a bit of spare cash when it came up for sale a decade later. A phone call to Ben Cooper for a spot of advice led to a ride in his C3 (the eponymous Gladys), and there was no going back. Nobody treats the C3 seriously, probably because it looks like something from a Rupert The Bear annual. But, it’s a fabulous machine. It flies well, is cleverly engineered and costs peanuts to operate.

Shamefully I’ll admit to owning a Thruster TST as well. It’s an early one with a Rotax 503, no electrics and is good fun. We used to have a small airstrip at our previous house, useless for most things except the Thruster (and a friend’s Aviat Husky) and it lived under covers near the house. Now it has its own shed on a nearby airstrip, next to the C3. It’s a fine training machine, bit of a pig to fly and useful for microlight and tailwheel differences training, plus landing out where maybe one shouldn’t. There’s a common simplicity to what I like – what isn’t there, doesn’t go wrong

As well as aircraft I’ve always messed around with cars. As an apprentice I built a 1500cc Ford Anglia, sold to pay for flying lessons; and an Austin 7 special, sold to buy the Champ in 1991. I also built a vintage Morgan Aero up from parts in 1999-2001. It had a 697cc Blackburne Tomtit V twin on the front, originally fitted to an RAF DH53 Hummingbird. The whole rig weighed in at 5cwt and went like stink. My present hack is a scruffy 1927 Vauxhall 14/40.

You flew with Air Atlantique – what was such a varied fleet like to fly?

I’d long thought about studying for the commercial pilot exams but, being penurious, kept putting it off. I couldn’t afford to pay for the flying training anyway. I wrote to Air Atlantique at Coventry as I’d heard they operated proper aeroplanes and ran a cadet scheme. Its selection process was simple and I joined in July 1993.

I only wanted to fly propliners at that time and found I fitted in rather well. It was a practical job with lots of interesting flying and getting your hands dirty.

The cadets were referred to as ‘fuglys’ and, to the outsider, treated like second-class citizens. However, the process either weeded out or toughened up the individual. The attrition rate was at least 50%.

After the issue of our BCPLs we were sent off to earn a bob or two and accumulate the fabled 700 hours for the CPL issue. I was sent to Caernarfon to hop rides and tow banners in a C172. There was serious trade on sunny days and I soon had the CPL issued. Having one of those and a decent amount of tailwheel time meant I could fly the Rapide, which was a real treat. Sadly once that summer was over then it was back to Coventry for the Instrument Rating which, after a carefree summer by the seaside and chasing my shadow across the Welsh mountains, was a bit too much like hard work. However, compensation came quickly, the very next day after passing the IR found me in the right seat of a Dakota for a quick couple of hours training and a type test. I liked the DC-3 tremendously, it flew much like the Rapide and I never had any trouble with it at all, other than several engine failures.

I didn’t fly the DC-6 until some time later a chance conversation at the ops desk revealed that the Chief Pilot calculated he was short of a DC-6 captain. I cheerfully volunteered and had an accelerated command, right seat, middle seat, pilot acting as flight engineer, to the left seat, all in six months. It’s easy to dismiss these radial engine ships as slow, but the DC-6 could easily keep up with a 737 freighter on the shorter European routes and did lots of ACMI work to cover those types. It took skill and knowledge to operate well.

As well as flying the Douglas machines, most of us were current on various Cessna and Piper twins. I also had the pleasure of being type rated on the Percival Prentice, which caused some amusement as the CAA licence endorsement gave the type as ‘P40’. I wish! Looking back, some of the things we got up to were unbelievably naughty, but it was in the days when telephones were telephones and there was no social media. It truly was the time of my life and my best friendships date from then.

I left at the end of 1998 and joined a UK charter airline flying the Boeing 757. Within six months I realised I’d made a poor decision. The airline itself was blameless but I hated commuting to Luton and the dismal repetitive routes for the holiday industry. After a couple of years I chucked it and headed a long way south. However, it was probably good that I left Air Atlantique when I did, as within 18 months the pollution contract ended, most of the DC-3s were retired and the DC-6 fleet was gone shortly after.

Tell us about flying for the British Antarctic Survey team

I joined BAS in early 2001, and after two years of airline flying it was great to be back in a single pilot, round dial aircraft, and even better on skis. Most of the flying work was logistic, moving science parties to field locations and positioning fuel drums in depots.

One of the regular tasks was ‘depot raising’; with an average snow accumulation of 72 inches per year, anything left standing on the surface could be several feet under by the following season. So we’d head out with a Twin Otter stuffed full of skidoos and bodies and dig the depot up and reposition it onto the surface. If it sounds a bit like painting the Forth Bridge… it was. When I joined it was with the intention of staying with BAS for several years, however, Cupid put paid to such idealistic intentions and I left in 2003.

How many hours and types flown?

I’ve flown several dozen aircraft types from microlights to heavy jets, about 15,000 hours all in so far. The hours become a bit irrelevant, and the true key to making any flying count as decent experience, is exercising good judgment, airmanship and skill, whether it’s a 10-hour or 10-minute sector. The same badly flown hour repeated many times is utterly worthless.

My favourite aircraft was the Rapide, which was a real joy. The DC-6, DC-3 and Twin Otter share second place on the list of commercial types. Most excellent workhorses, easy to fly badly, rewarding when flown well and, of course, completely analogue.

The Aeronca C3 is my favourite light aeroplane as I’ve owned it for half my life and had many good adventures in it. It’s an admirable performer with 36 proper size horses on the front and bags of character. Unashamedly traditional, as basic trainers I think Cubs and Champs still have a lot to offer, in the case of the Champ, also very good value. Tailwheel RVs are good fun too. Various VW powered single-seaters have been great fun and have the optimum number of seats.

I keep the Scottish Aviation Twin Pioneer in a class of its own as it reached both ends of the spectrum. As a single pilot STOL air display machine it was perfect and thoroughly entertaining. It was OK for hopping short A to A rides but it was useless for going A to B with a cabin full of anoraks as the fuel load (thus range) became limited. A typically over-engineered, heavy, complicated British aircraft. That particular aircraft, G-APRS, is now a caravan. Probably quite a good one too…

For work, I currently fly the Global 6000 for a VIP charter / business jet operator. London-based, on a fortnight on-off pattern. It takes me all over the world and is thoroughly entertaining. As I write, I am in snowy Anchorage.

Any memorable moments in aviation?

There have been so many but I still think my first solo was one the best. It was a perfect spring afternoon and I was completely ready. I’ve read of those who are scared or nervous, such nonsense never entered my mind. It was fantastic and I drove my 850 Mini home even more flat-out than usual..

Oddly enough one of my most memorable flights was one of the saddest, operating the last scheduled airline flight from Plymouth Airport. It was the afternoon Glasgow – Plymouth – Newquay service. As always, full of passengers and highly profitable but the greed of the owners meant selling the airline and the stupid and ongoing debacle of Plymouth’s now moribund airport.

Any favourite flying books?

I’m an enthusiastic reader and have several hundred flying books. Picking favourites is difficult, but Wind In The Wires by Duncan Grinnell-Milne is probably top of the list - a rare combination of poignant prose and acid wit. Harald Penrose’s autobiography Adventure With Fate is another firm favourite. Of course, Flying For Fun by Jack Parham has meant more to me than for most as I own both the heroine of the film and I am reconstructing the original. Classics still occasionally appear, Propellerhead being a fine example, but I’ll wager that nothing delightful will ever be written about drones, ADS-B or how to fly a tin box full of iPads from A to B.

Any ‘interesting’ aviation moments?

I’ve had 17 engine failures / shutdowns so far. Six in single-engine aircraft, 10 in multi-engine aircraft (mostly radials) and one in a turbine. Plus quite a lot of other stuff that’s happened. All were landed safely without further damage. The sole turbine engine (PT6) shutdown was completely avoidable; a maintenance induced failure due to a missing O ring following a generator service. No big deal as it was a Dash 7 and we had another three running to take us home..

Two of the single engine failures were in a Pietenpol

Aircamper with an Subaru engine and the most entertaining was the crankshaft failure in the Aeronca C3 which saw the propeller find its own way down. Little wonder Jack Parham turned his C2 into a glider; without the drag of a windmilling propeller it took ages to glide down from 2,500ft and I had to spiral to lose height.

The 10 failures in multis were a bit more serious, especially a couple in the DC-3, as was a hydraulic leak hundreds of miles from anywhere in a Twin Otter. Nonetheless, I regard electrical problems, instrument failures and fires as far more of a hazard, especially combined with poor weather, night and fatigue.

There’ve been many memorable moments too. When the SeaEmpress ran aground we had the delight of taking all seven DC-3 marine pollution spray aircraft to Haverfordwest and several days spraying dispersant. I was co-pilot to a great chap called Rory, and on one spray run Rory managed to inadvertently inflate his life jacket.

Spraying was done at an eyeballed 20ft or so above the waves and the seat position in the DC-3 naturally places the control wheel close to the pilot.

Rory, being an advocate of a real ale diet and now with an inflated life jacket, found that pulling the stick back to climb was somewhat restricted. I had the presence of mind to whip out my knife, stab Rory in the lifejacket and we climbed away. It sounds serious but we couldn’t stop laughing.

My most recent engine failure was an EFATO in a Murphy Maverick at no more than 200ft. Due to the lack of suitable landing sites straight ahead on that runway, I was already in a right turn before the engine failed. This pre-empting of the failure (on a coaching flight the purpose of which was to teach and practice failures) meant the right turn was continued to a landing back onto the airfield. I invest in such practice regularly and the dividend paid off.

Any dream aeroplanes to own?

In utopia I’d keep a Supermarine Walrus on the slipway at St Winnow. However, even in the real world, something amphibious would be excellent. I keep a floatplane rating current on my FAA licence.

Any wisdom to share with fellow flyers?

Assume something’s about to go wrong and you won’t be disappointed. ■