Christchurch and District Model Flying Club
 

The Diary of a Flier, by B Leonard Wise.

The Story so far. B Leonard Wise wants to fly a Spitfire and is learning to fly a training plane first.

Walter has taken me out again with the Club’s trainer. We seem to get on better the more I fly. The plane does not mess about quite to much, it used to go left when it should go right etc and go all over the sky so much that Walter had to take it from me to straighten it out. It is obviously something wrong with the plane, but Walter my instructor will not have it.

We have a buddy box, so he cuts in when ever he wants to. I did try a landing but he took it away from me saying that I would obviously overshoot and hit the bushes. I did not agree with him but what can I do he just take the plane all the time. He has suggested that I buy a kit to build my own plane. He says that I should get a cheap A.R.T.F. or second hand plane to train with but that if I made one from a kit I would see how they were constructed. This would make it easier if I want to repair a plane and I could then see how the controls were fixed. This sounds like a good idea.

Walter myself and a teenager called Mike, who is also learning to fly set out for one of the national Air Shows. We arrived after the usual traffic jams. It always amazes me that there is only one point of entry to get what amounted to several thousand cars in. I was certainly impressed with the planes on show, and the flying. It is amazing what these people can do with a plane. One chap seemed to fly it around his head in some sort of roll. It makes me want to get on and learn faster. I noticed that the pilots were all standing in a row near the runway and each one seemed to have a spotter or caller with him. There was no security so I strolled over to speak to one of them, just to ask about their plane.

Now at this point I wish to state that I do not feel at all responsible for what happened next. I spoke to the pilot who was flying a fast jet, he ignored me. So I spoke louder. This caused him to jump and step backwards. He stood on the foot of his companion, they both staggered and fell over in a rather undignified heap. As they went down somehow he let go of the transmitter which flew into the air.

Now I always reckon that I was a pretty good cricketer, a good slip fielder and I would have been a good batsman if they had allowed me to stay in long enough to get runs. Anyway, I caught the Transmitter and found myself trying to control the Jet which was fast disappearing over the horizon. With what skill I have I turned it back towards us and round it came. I thought the best thing to do would be to fly it along the runway then hand the transmitter back to the Pilot. I really did not intend it to go so low. Nor did I intend it to fly about 4 feet about the heads of the other four Pilots who were giving a demonstration of scale aircraft at the same time as the jet was flying. I could see it would be close to us but being a man of courage I stood my ground. Not so the other Pilots, they threw themselves to the ground, in a rather cowardly manner, and so lost control of their aircraft. Two collided and one crashed. I sent the Jet skywards. I was expecting to be congratulated on my skill when the Transmitter was roughly taken from me. I cannot bring myself to write down the language. Then, and you will have difficulty in believing this, I was grabbed by the collar of my Jacket, and the seat of my trousers, bundled across the ground and thrown, yes thrown, into the crowd.

To be concluded...

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