So off I went; mentally calm and with my mind on one thing only - the forthcoming flight. As I was driving I was aware of a bit of haze around but not so much as when I reached the top of Blue Bell Hill - my usual "what's today
really going to be like?" point, and the Weald of Kent before me was like a bowl of dishwater. Oh, crap. But Bruce was fairly upbeat, downloading TAFs and actuals as we briefed and the situation was looking acceptable for my destinations.
Some responsibility was laid on my shoulders. 'Always give yourself the option to turn back' was drummed into me. I did the walkround of 'YL in hazy sunshine and meditative contemplation. Then I was ready.
'YL before my QXC
The climb-out gave me an idea of what I was going to be up against. I peered up over the nose into murk and looked out over the side at it. Only when I levelled off at 2,300' did I realise I could see further than I initially thought. But not much further. I groped my way to Staplehurst (my departure point), the criterion being that if I could see Bewl Water, 8 n.m. from there I could go.
I was over Staplehurst and I looked hopefully south-west for Bewl. There was a distant gleam, barely separable from the grey, and I took my leap of faith. I turned onto heading, comitted.
I crossed Bewl, a little off track, and adjusted enough to get to my turning point at Uckfield, with any luck. And, of course, as I flew on, so the haze rolled back to reveal more of the countryside and its precious landmarks. I reached some large towns and I couldn't decide if I was over Uckfield with Crowborough on my right or whether I was over Heathfied with Uckfield on my right! Either way, it was time to turn onto my new heading. It should be said that accuracy of navigation on this trip is not essential, thanks to the proximity of the south coast and the Downs, although one obviously does one's humble best. So I ploughed on, keeping the by-now-visible coast a respectable distance to port and thereby avoiding the attendant embarrasment of overflying Shoreham without saying hello to BRL!
I furiously read map-to-ground (and yes, ground-to-map - slap my wrists) without having a great clue of my whereabouts, so it was with a mixture of pride, relief and a little surprise that Goodwood suddenly appeared out of the murk bang on the nose, like a gorgeous lady from a puff of smoke in a magician's trick. Well okay, I had been following the dual carriageway from Arundel and it don't lead nowhere else but still, it was a sight for sore eyes!
We'd got PPR from Goodwood so I knew it was 06 and Bruce had briefed me on the join. The RT, join and circuit went like a dream; the approach was nice, now for a show-off landing: oops, a bit too much hold-off (slight balloon), gently now...there. Trundling down the runway I call for parking instructions. I notice the place seems to be full of tents and marquees. "Yankee Lima, exit right and park in front of the tents next to the second aircraft".
I make my way. As I get closer I notice that there appears to be a fenced compound in front of the marquees and that the aircraft are within it. There's a Luscombe and a T21 Sedbergh in Air Cadet colours. Mmm, happy days. I trundle towards the gap.
"Yankee Lima, stop!!". Chop throttle and brakes on, quick as you like. "Yankee Lima stopped". "Yankee Lima, please taxy to the front of the
fence and park beside the
other two aircraft".
. Did you know a 152 could turn in its own length? Neither did I but I find out it could all by myself!
When I was last at Goodwood with Bruce it was straightforward just to walk to the flying club, pay the landing fees, dawdle a bit and go back to the aircraft. Today, the place was a hive of activity with marquees, portacabins and fenced enclosures. It took me ages to find the flying club and then the tower to get my form signed. But what sights on the way! I drooled over the classic racing cars being lovingly worked on, tuned up, revved up & polished up. Classic cars and vans as support vehicles. And, as I made my way back to my humble Cessna, the thundering arrival of the ex-Eagle Airways DC6. As I'd done the walk-round, strapped in and did the start-up checks a Spit and a Fiat arrived and taxyed in. I was just about to call up for departure when a Dakota dropped in! In case you hadn't guessed, I had arrived for the preparations for the 2008 Goodwood Revival (
Goodwood - Revival) and an excellent event it promises to be!
The DC6 landing
Another shot of the DC6
Time to say goodbye to this lovely grass airfield but not without another gentle Kev-type faux-pas for those who might have missed the first one. Control advised me that the runway had been changed to 14 so I looked on my Pooley's plate and it was quite clear - turn left from my parking place and the runway was in front of me. But strange, as I'd just seen the Dakota come in from my right. However, these big aeroplanes seem to land on whichever runway they want. Probably make it up as they go along.
So I turned left down beside the long runway and arrived at the end....to be met by the holding sign which said 32. More
. More u-turn. I taxyed slowly back up to the other end and the welcome holding sign for 14. Funnily enough, the R/T had remained strangely silent during my lonely perambulation; though it wasn't what the tower might have said to me that made me squirm: it was was what the controllers probably said to each other! Fill that in for yourselves!
Anyway, I got away but the Revival had one last thrill to impart to me. As I settled on course for the long (64 n.m.) leg to Lydd I was looking around and just happened to glance down just in time to see the Vickers Vimy replica floating serenely by 1,000' below me! What a privelege.
Bruce had said that if I wanted I could just dispense with all the calculations and dead reckoning and drop down to the coast and find my way to Lydd from there. But the vis. had cleared up by magic so I decided not to do that and to try to follow the line as best I could. I found I kept going to the right of track however and having to adjust things accordingly. Therefore, whilst I kept tabs on the major coastal towns I found villages, roads and rivers passing beneath me in a rather helpless blur, though I did get occasional fixes. enough to avoid South Downs GC, at any rate. And by this time and remembered how to use the VOR and picked up Lydd. Momentary panic as I tried to tune in the Lydd ATIS and got nothing. Then I remembered I was probably out of range and left the radio on frequency, to be rewarded by a gratifying burst of automated information a few minutes later.
I had another moment of concern as I was passing hastings. Rye should have been visible and it was there that I had to call Lydd inbound, but I couldn't see it. Frantic searching now....ah, that kinky railway line on the chart....there it is! - right in front. Happy again. Call Lydd again when four miles to run. That was by the lakes. Up came the lakes but no sign of the airfield. Hmm. If the lakes are only 4 miles from the airfield I should be able to see it! I really had a problem now! Boring on like this getting nearer and nearer; I should be on top of the bloody thing!
There it was, a couple of miles off the starboard wing. Lovely! The landing, despite the crosswind, was really nice and I read back all the controllers instructions with measured aplomb. Mr. Confidence.
As it was, the rest of the trip with the short hop back to Headcorn took on something like the measure of routine and it was a much more relaxed and slightly more experienced KM who arrived back.
I did feel that I've never been in a such a situation where I had to survive on my training and wits for so long. But I feel really proud and pleased.......even if I did somehow seem to 'blag' my way across half my route!