Master Bates, Mrs Grundy and The Great Sempini
The F4 Phantom was introduced to Royal Naval service in 1969 and this September Air Day was the navy's first chance to show off this spectacularly powerful and beautiful aircraft.
The pre-display briefing started as a rather intense and detailed affair. The room was crowded and after Met Briefing it developed into a detailed discussion between various stovies about wind direction, maximum allowable crosswinds and runway changes. One felt it was a day for the helicopter fraternity to be seen but not heard. It was not our party.
But, half way through the session Cdr (Air) asked whether there were any questions so far. At the back, a young RAF Flt. Lieutenant, on exchange with 845, stood and asked if his Wessex V could be positioned further down the dispersal area for the start of his display. Cdr (A) said all aircraft positions had been carefully planned and was this change necessary. The Flt. Lt. said it was otherwise he was going to have to overfly the display line at low level and he was anxious that his piano should not fall into the crowd by accident. All faces were now turned back toward this intruder. Rather nonplussed and anxious to get things back on track quickly Cdr (A) said to do whatever was safest and were there any more questions.
Colin Bates, or Mrs Grundy as we must now call him, stood and asked if he could park his Hiller closer to the hardstanding on completion of his display, as at present he was going to have to walk 500 yards across soft grass in a tight skirt and high heeled shoes.
This rather upset the gravitas of the rest of the briefing.
Colin's display went well. The PA had been calling for some time for Mrs Grundy to go to the Control Tower as she had won the draw for a trip in a helicopter. I positioned the Hiller in front of the crowd, the doors having been removed for ease of access. Mrs Grundy duly appeared and tottered toward the aircraft. Since she was obviously "Having difficulty with the straps" I left the aircraft and walked around to help her strap in. Once Colin was happy he gave me the nod and to ensure things got off to a flying start I tweeked the twistgrip open. Colin grabbed a handful of lever to control the revs and he was off.
The sight of the poor little old lady trapped alone in the helicopter and obviously out of control always shocked then entertained the crowd and Colin did it extremely well.
The Wessex with the underslung piano went equally well but for all the wrong reasons.
The commentator announced its arrival from stage left,
"Carrying one of the priceless pianos from Lord Bath's collection and today being played by Sempini the world renowned concert pianist, who is playing a short selection from his repetoire".
The piano was on the underslung hook, Sempini on the winch wire secured to the piano by a short strop. Inside the piano was a Marker Marine flare.
Honky Tonk music was being played over the PA as Sempini, dressed in top hat and tail coat was flown down the crowd line.
When suddenly,
"Oh dear, Sempini's playing seems to have set fire to the piano".
Sure enough smoke is seen billowing from the piano. The Wessex climbs slowly away and after what seems like an age and at a great height the piano is seen to fall away and crash noisily onto the intersection of the two runways, thus halting all proceedings until the wreckage has been cleared. An unusually good shot for the RAF!
What we did not realise at the time but found out later was that the Marker Marine, usually immersed in seawater, had really set fire to the piano. The heat being such that Sempini had to lean away from the piano which had made it extremely difficult to release the strop. As flames started to lick toward the belly of the aircraft the pilot wanted to release the hook but was prevented from doing so because Sempini was still attached to the piano. Eventually Sempini managed to release the strop and was winched in, allowing the pilot to drop the piano with the result already described.
The moral of the story must be not to take part in Air Days.