Gliding-They go up tiddly tumtum, they go down tiddlypoo

Flying by the seat of someone else’s pants

(Or ‘How to get a glider stuck in a muddy field somewhere... in the Baltics
and then trying to find it?’)

Just a thought! This is written by a non-flying sailor, dragged into representing Britain in an International Gliding Competition. My take on what happened next...

Click to enlarge images

I got together with Ken for a Chrissy drink. He is into gliding competitions and it came out he needs a crew to help with an international competition in Lithuania (Sort of Russia) leaving here around the 20th.July. It means someone to get the glider to the starting grid on the airfield and go over a check-list/fitting batteries/assembling wings and cleaning the flies off the leading edges??? Ken tells me that if you fly into a swarm of flies it slows the plane down as it breaks up the airflow. So there. To me it seemed simple, dodge them. If he has to land out, that is, doesn't get back to the airfield, I have to get to him in whatever field he is with the trailer to retrieve the plane. I'm up for the adventure if I can get someone to feed Blanche, (mon chat). Hmmmm.
An interesting proposition that turned into reality. It was then he dropped the first bombshell; he was in the British team so we (me too) will be representing Britain.
Why I was asked I don’t know, as my flying experiences were usually sitting in the cramped seat of Easy-jet flights, some experience. Although to my credit I did fly in a Virgin to Boston plus a tough trip with Egypt Airlines and a flight to Turkey where everyone applauded when we landed safely? The pinnacle of my total flying experiences must be an upgrade to the upper deck on a BA jumbo Jet from India complete with champers and a menu choice. Maybe Ken got wind of that.

We wet our whistle with a training week in Ontur, Southern Spain, where two World Champions Brian and Gill Spreckley have a Gliding school (http://www.soaringclub.com/index.html), during April 14th.-21st. with the rest of the team. I took a deep breath and prepared for a steep learning curve. Britain was fielding four fliers for the competition, Two in the club class; Ken (Barker) and Dave (Draper) flying Standard Cirrus machines (whatever they are) and two in the standard class; Derren (Francis) and Gary (Stingemore) flying LS-8’S (I hadn’t a clue what all these letters and numbers meant). Gary couldn’t make the training week but we met up in Lithuania.


Here are some of the tricky learning bits in Spain

Getting ready to leave

Au-Chateau. Chambres d'hotes~ click for details

Our Rig – setting off

Arrival in Ontur

Now, what goes where?

Ken looking cool

Ready for launch

Well, I learned to stick the wings, tail and wingtips on, get the plane to the end of the runway and lined up. Then there were little things like connecting batteries, plugging in two black boxes which recorded the flights making sure the whole lot was pristine and polished and letting Ken sort out his own pee tube. There are limits. I then hooked up to the tug (the glider, that is, not me) and helped connect the towrope to most of the others and retrieved the dropped tow rope ready for the next glider. One problem surfaced, I can’t run due to a bike accident years ago.

You need to run with the wingtip until the glider gains speed. I used a substitute. We can't all be a Beckham lookalike (but I try).

We all got on really well as the fliers are all a bit barmy so it suited me down to the ground, so to speak.

Derren being cheesy

And Ken crunching with me playing the Calamari shuffle

I did my first retrieval when the tug pilot landed out, after he had borrowed a glider and was not old enough (at 24) to drive the pickup truck but old enough to fly a plane???. A bit of baptism of fire as I had not reversed a trailor as long as this before, maneuvering along some narrow dodgy tracks while managing not to look too fazed; and to cap it all, the truck was a RHD.

When we arrived the farmer had double locked the gated road and disappeared. The field was the only one for miles with a fence surrounding it. We called the Guard Civil who had to sort it out the next morning. We then took the poor thing apart and carried it out. As I found out later, this is quite normal.

The week went really well (I thought). The guys had lectures most mornings and flew for 2/3/4 hours. This gave me time off to see the local town and countryside, which was given over to olives vines and fruit; and not a few windmills dotted around the scrub covered mountainsides.












After slogging for a week with various hangovers (we stayed in small apartments on the airfield and went out in the evenings for meals), Ken got me a ride in a Duo twin seater something or other during the evening with Gill Spreckley, one of the instructors and already a world champion, no less.

Span
20metre
65.2ft.

QUOTE Two British Golds at Women's World Championships 21st July 2007

[Sarah Kelman and Gill Spreckley have struck gold at the Women's World Gliding Championships which finished today at Romarantin in France. After nine days' racing Sarah won the Standard Class by a comfortable margin after having led the contest since the opening day. Gill took gold in the Club Class after the lead had changed a number of times, but eventually came through to win convincingly]. End QUOTE.

She also won gold in 2001 so it convinced me that I would be in for something special.

After take off we soared over the hills to find thermals and boy did we ever. Gill soon let me take over the joystick (well named, that one) while she did all the peddling bit (Rudder, I was told). Gill has a calm easy friendly manner and we chatted about flying and stuff while I was trying to get the hang of feeling out thermals and what the dials were indicating, all the while snapping away to record my epic (for me) flight. It was a perfect evening with 100 knots indicated while the Vario (impressed?) was showing nearly 6. Sorry about the blurry image but we were dive bombing the town at the time in a kinda Stuka way.

We flew for an hour and a half in perfect conditions and got up to 8000ft.

It's not too clear in the reflection but the altimeter is just reaching 8000ft. with the town far below. The airfield is a small smudge in the right hand corner. All in all, the end of a perfect week. I was sorry to climb out of Gills lap.

Ahead of us was 2600 kilometres of towing, (each way), to Lithuania from Toulouse for the European Championships. I will introduce the various team members and characters we met along the way. If the Blog is a bit scrappy and the layout odd, give me a bit of leeway as it is the first attempt at this Blogging nonsense, and I will improve. Also, I only got back last Thursday but the hangover's gone.

Next... The Pilots

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Onwards upwards (and sometimes Downwards) to Lithuania

Introducing the team

OK. We did well in the team training in Spain in preparation for the European Gliding Championships in Lithuania. I found out what the wingless fuselage shape was for we were towing behind the car. Initially I took it as a moving advertising slogan ~

EasyJet

I even wrote to an open letter to Sir Stelios Haji-Ioannou, via the press department of Easyjet; complete with mock-ups showing possible advertising opportunities. To represent Britain we had to pay for everything ourselves so a little help would have saved a lot of head scratching.








Running through several 'new' Euro countries it may have been a superb chance to sponsor a related sport and open up a lucrative new market. We couldn't understand how these giant organisations can completely ignore a request to the point of not even replying.

EasyCruise

Undaunted I pressed on, trying to gain some sponsorship by writing to Richard Branson, once again with the Virgin press office. The same reaction. Nothing. I find this odd, but not unexpected although even a blunt refusal would have been better than pretending we were not there. Of the other teams competing many are sponsored, including France (where I happen to live), fully supporting their fliers who are professional Glider pilots and paid to fly; they are supplied with gliders and backup teams funded by the state.




The train logo is striking and fits the shape


This amused us whenever we beat the French but looked ruefully on when we realised they also had a chef in the team, who pandered to them with culinary delights. No change there then. We made do with the local delicacy, Pigs' ears.






Britain is notorious for not supporting endeavor which makes it hard when you consider both the massive organisations started up with pioneering enteperneurs.

Richard is potty about ballooning (Gulp) and Hang Gliding . (SEE Dave Draper below) while Stelios is always up for a challange and is, himself, a flying pioneer.

Not brilliant, but shows what is possible

So who were our band of men...The chosen phew!

Well actually a varied lot who, for the main, are commercial pilots and hanker for the dubious honour of flying without an engine.

I suppose it has to be said, others seem to get away with it~ This is a glider too. Maybe NASA wants some publicity next time.

The British pilots are;
Pociunai, Lithuania

Ken Barker 'My pilot'. Ken has become a 'hello sailor' as a renowned Jazz musician on cruise ships ocean wide. He also runs, with his wife Kathrin, a Chateau B+B with cookery courses for the gourmet in the South of France, he has a commercial pilots licence and a very industrious crew. His love of Chrysler cars is legendary.

Dave Draper Shares his joystick with partner Kay, who is a champion at handling this in her own right. Dave has Hang Gliding and Club Class championships under his belt and likes to walk his dog, mad mutt 'Ella', to the curry house. No connection I hope...

Derren Francis Long haul pilot Africa and the Middle East. As a child he he would watch the members of Portsmouth Naval Gliding Club take off and land.; consequently his landings are a tad erratic as he is always looking for a long stretch of water. Avid collector of bomb bays.

Gary Stingemore When he is not impersonating Harold, King of Wessex, Gary is a Virgin something or other and went solo at 16- instructing at 19. Hmmm, impressive. He was in the RAF as a Tornado GR1s instructor. I don't know what that is but he tells me Tom Cruise got it all wrong. His hobbies include re-naming everyone he meets.

Next... The crews (including me).

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