If anyone still cares, pasted below is my current column from Pilot magazine
It’s a beautiful summer’s afternoon and my little Jodel’s engine is humming happily as we hop over to Saltby, where I’m helping at a local Scout troop’s flying evening. I’ve barely climbed out of the diminutive cockpit before a young girl wanders over to introduce herself, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “We’re here for the scout flying” she announces peremptorily “and I’m here early cos I want to go first.” Eleven-year old Lily is as bright as a button, as sharp as a tack and the charming, confident side of precocious. She eyes Buzz with keen interest, and when I ask if she’d like to sample the cockpit she doesn’t need asking twice. Having explained the controls and instruments I lift the tail up into the flying attitude and she grins delightedly. Having helped her out I make my excuses and go to check in with the duty instructor. Half an hour later and the troop of Melton Mowbray scouts are assembled and briefed at the launch point. I’m about to ask, “who’s first” then realise it’s completely unnecessary. Lily is already wearing her parachute and standing next to the K-21 with a very possessive air. There is no doubt who’s first. Lily squeals with delight during the winch launch, and having wafted up to 2,000 feet in an evening thermal I encourage her to take control and she loves it, particularly when I hold my hands above my head to prove that only she is controlling the sailplane. She wants aerobatics but all I’m prepared to do is a steep spiral, and as we’ve already been airborne longer than we should have, put the K 21 in a tight corkscrew. For the first time that flight the rear cockpit goes quiet, so I ease off on the ‘g’ and level out. “Everything okay Lily?” I ask with a hint of trepidation. There’s a pause then “I’m grinning so hard my jaw hurts” she giggles. “That was amazing!” As we turn final I realise that as we’re landing on 07 and its already well into the evening our shadow is racing us to the runway. I point it out to Lily, who is enchanted.
Several hours later and Buzzand I are wending our weary way home through the pellucid sky with a certain sense of smug satisfaction. The flying evening has been a huge success. All the children (and some of the parents) flew at least once and there were several soaring flights. The children were fun, the parents and troop leaders appreciative and – most importantly - everyone had enjoyed themselves immensely, and safely. Lily’s comment about her jaw hurting still has me chuckling as the patchwork fields basking in the late evening sun slip slowly under Buzz’s broad wings. The air is like warm velvet and the light glorious –what a great evening.
The next day I hear the latest on the Air Cadets management (or perhaps more appositely, mismanagement) of its two fleets. I’ve written about the VGS debacle before (see PTTs passim) – and the word on the peritrack now is that all the Vigilants (known to everyone else as the Grob 109) are to be summarily scrapped. What a fiasco! Unhappily and reluctantly, I am forced to the conclusion that the ATC has lost its way – particularly regarding the VGS - and has made a completely mess of a once-great organisation. I couldn’t help but contrast how much flying a medium-sized provincial gliding club had achieved the previous evening, with how little the ATC do. Buckminster GC doesn’t get a single penny from the government, and no help from the air force (OK, we might have had an old Phantom pilot driving the cable retrieve vehicle, and a retired Air Chief Marshall had got the day started as Duty Instructor, but that’s not the point!) Somehow a group comprised of mostly either pensioners or students (and respect is due to the Loughborough Students’ Union Gliding Club for helping that evening) and an itinerant Flight Test Editor had given air experience flights to a group of children safely and efficiently.
I think that part of the problem is that the VGS tends to ‘gold plate’ its operation. A VGS instructor wears the same boots and flying suit as a Typhoon pilot - all paid for by the tax payer. They sign a Form 700 for each Viking (also known as a Grob 103), and it’s the same Form 700 as the Typhoon driver signs. Finally, and just like a Typhoon pilot - they are checked every three months - yet they’re flying simple gliders from a vast field that I could almost land in with my eyes shut. I don’t know how much each winch launch at the VGS headquarters at RAF Syerston costs, but with the empire built there I reckon it’s a lot more than at a civilian club. And remember, a lot of those launches aren’t even for the cadets, but for checks on the instructors.
It saddens me to say it, but perhaps the VGS should just give all their kit to the BGA and RAFGSA, and stick to simulators, where everyone is ‘safe’. The money saved should be spent on commissioning RAFGSA and BGA gliding clubs to fly Air Cadets. This would be in line with Governmentpolicy, which favours contracting certain services out into the private sector where it is more efficient. In fact, the old Flying Scholarships were always administered in this manner. Payment to the gliding clubs could be partially in kind by the donation of equipment. Doing this would save the tax payer an absolute fortune and – more importantly – would start getting significant numbers of children flying again.