Antony Maitland Autobiography

Born 16/10/1945, Cairo, Egypt.
Parents: Donald Sydney & Rosemary (Parkes) Maitland (AM03/01 & 02).
Baptised All Saints, Cairo 13/12/45.
Abode: 34 Shania Soliman Pasha, Cairo.

Married: Alice Charlotte Kirk-Owen, Presteigne, Powys, Wales, 16/10/76.
born 3/10/56, died 14/3/1997. For more about Alice Kirk-Owen, see
separate chapter.

Issue of Antony & Alice Maitland:
1/1. Isabel Alice Maitland, born Hereford 4/9/1980.
    GCSE
    French A Autumn 1996 (MEG)
    History, Latin, Spanish, (MEG) Geography, Maths A* Biology,
    Chemistry, Physics (MEG) A Summer 97
    GCSE Summer 97 English & English Lit A* (WJEC)
    Young Enterprise Co 1998
    A level French A (EDEXCEL), English Lit A, Geography A, AS
    Government & Politics (OCR)

1/2. Oliver Antony Maitland, born 17/6/1984 Hereford.

Date: Thu, 30 Jan 2003 7:26:47 BST
From: Ollie Maitland (Nepal).
Ally and I met up with the others from the GAP challenge group yesterday and today we are going to find out where we are staying for the next 3 months. The others seem pretty nice although perhaps restrained. Having wicked time in Thamel (Kathmandu) at the moment, founds some very cool cafes and bars. Spend lots of my time in a cafe called 'New Orleans' where they play cool jazz and have superior coffees. Then progress to a little place to eat some Daal Bhat (rice and lentils) for about 1pound. Then there is a little bar called Tom and Jerry's where most of the young western ppl chillout. There is even a club in Thamel but most of the time we chill in a cafe called Boogie Woogies until the early hours here they show all the latest films, inc Chicago.

I have met a Tibetian monk, called Khedup, who is on a holiday from the north east of india (in the mountains) and he has invited me to stay up there if i want. I'll see how long i have after teaching but i hope i can go because it is supposed to be amazing there.

Born in Cairo while father in RAF during the 2nd World War. Repatriated March 1946. Baptised Cathedral Church of All Saints, Cairo, 30/12/45 by Rev Lockhart, vicar of Clunbury, Shropshire (near where AM lives in 2005!).

Called Antony (no 'h') after Mark Antony in "Antony & Cleopatra", which parents had seen soon before birth.

Lived at High Elms, Codsall, Wolverhampton, until 1956, moving to The Dower House, Oaken, which was sold in March 2005 after Rosemary's death in July 2004.

Brought up by mother aided by Joyce Merrick.

Early education at Miss Hill's school in Tettenhall.

God parents:
Frances Biden - a Cambridge contemporary of my mother's. South African from Durban, lived most of her later life in Cape Town.
Bunch Waddell - my mother's sister.
Harry Summers - Regular RAF. Stationed in Cairo and shared flat with R&D in Cairo during 1945/6). Administration Branch.
John Gibson - a gynaecologist and Cambridge friend of parents - lived in Bulawayo, Rhodesia.

Stan Grant

Married Life:

I met Alice Kirk-Owen at the end of December 1975, when she was 19 and I 30, but we rapidly became engaged to be married by the end of February 1976. During that year, she took a secretarial course in London, at the end of which I prised her away from the big city.

We were married on 16 October, 1976, my 31st birthday, in St Andrew's Church, Presteigne, Radnorshire.

After a honeymoon flying around the Western USA, we began married life in a flat in Evancoyd Court, near Presteigne, Radnorshire. The house was a cold Victorian building: the flat was small, basic, and cold, Lindley saying it was the only place where the plates were too cold to rest on the knee! The winter of '76/'77 was cold: there was snow lying in the yard where we kept the cars for about 2 months. Our bathroom was at the other end of the house, a cold walk on a frosty morning. Jacky Lewis (Major Lewis) was a man of the old school, who did not believe in heating: the house had had heating, but the boiler blew-up on Jacky's 21st birthday and was never repaired: he was about 75 when this story was told! After Jacky's death, the new owners of Evancoyd pulled down our 1st home!

Alice worked as a secretary for an Aviation company at Shobdon airfield while I was completing a project and training for a Commercial Pilot's Licence, which I finished in summer 1978.

After work became certain in the Welsh border area, in autumn 1978, we bought and moved into a house called the Gables, in Norton, near Presteigne. Again, our first winter was long and cold, with ice in the yard for 8 weeks. The Gables is an 8 bedroom Victorian stone house which required extensive renovation, having a leaky roof (half a bucket of water in our bedroom on a bad night!), no heating and little plumbing and electrics and needing complete redecoration. We carried this out ourselves, only subcontracting the roof over the front of the house.

This work and clearing the garden took some years and combined with a good social life, filled the time. Alice was very active and took much pleasure in exercising and travelling with her dog, Brora, a black and white English Springer Spaniel bitch, named after the place in Scotland where we first met the breed. We had flown up there in a home built aircraft (a BD4) to see our best man, Peter Boxer, whose family took some fishing on the Brora river. Brora was Alice's constant companion until the dog died aged about 13. She was replaced by another b&w Springer, Posey, who still lives in 2006.

Before we bought the Gables, I wanted to live in somewhere more remote, but Alice wanted to be in a village. She was right, even without the way her health later turned out. The Gables was a big house, but happy, always full of people and noise, Alice being a very sociable girl. When not entertaining or going out she was always on the phone to our friends or her mother. We had a good social life from the beginning, visiting friends most weekends or having dinner parties ourselves, some of which became quite rowdy - a doctor who enjoyed his parties annoyed Alice enough for her to upend the coal bucket over his head one night! They remained friends however. For several years, we had big New Year's Eve parties, with dinner and dancing. The Gables had a large room, referred to as the Armour Room, in which we could just squeeze 100 people at the midnight hour. These parties were well known for the mulled wine we served. Little did anyone know that it was made from half the cheapest French supermarket wine and half home made from wine making kits. It had the desired effect no matter its origins! People had a rather more elastic view of alcohol and driving then, coupled with the extremely low traffic density in the area at night.

After the arrival of Isabel and later Oliver, the social life calmed down a little, and became more child and after a while, school oriented. A number of our friends all started families at the same time as us, so we moved along with them. Alice took care of the children, soon after helped by several girls from the area. One, Sarah Charlton (now Chilman) stayed helping for a long time, even after Alice's death in 1997. She and the children remain good friends. Another was Miranda Dunn (now Taxis), the youngest of three daughters of friends. The next sister up, Tilly qualified as an osteopath for whom Alice later worked as a receptionist. Much of the home running fell upon Alice as I was away flying a lot of the time: after 20 years marriage, we decided that was the reason for having survived so long together! Even when at home, I was not very domesticated, preferring to work on the house or buildings and look after the sheep.

The children both started school at Presteigne state primary. Isabel was in a good class and did well, leaving there at about 9 for Moor Park, a local school where she went as a day girl for a year and then weekly boarded for the remainder of her time there. Oliver did not have such a good start at Presteigne, and moved to Moor Park when he was 7, boarding immediately (Alice's health was beginning to deteriorate even then), not as hard as it sounds as Isabel was still there, although Oliver says she was not as sympathetic as she might have been!

We had several other memorable trips away, mostly with the company aircraft, to Copenhagen, (January 1979), Amsterdam (1979), the Loire (1979), Epernay (1981), New Orleans (1989), Florence (1992) and gliding in Ireland (1981) & Spain (1982). Interspersed with these were trips with the children to Polzeath, Cornwall and North Wales.

Alice & I went to Austria on a gliding based holiday in June 1985, firstly to Mauterndorf, where we stayed in a small hotel in the village near the airfield.

The weather was bad and so we spent time sightseeing and travelling around. Amongst other places, we went to visit the "Ice Caves" in the Saalach Valley South of Salzburg. The caves are high up in the mountains, reached by cable car, and consist of a glacier inside the mountain. The glacier is carved out into a walk with many flights of stairs: Alice had difficulty with this climb, this was the first evidence of her later troubles. As the forecast seemed set bad, we moved on the Italy, where we had a very happy few days. Perhaps the high point for Alice might have been flying as passenger in the tug aircraft, with me on the back in the glider and the tug pilot making a pass at her in mid air!

The last trip was in October 1996 to Venice, which Alice had always wanted to see. It would have been very difficult, but Control Techniques, whose aircraft I was flying, lent us the company aircraft and so we went out with the children and another couple, Alex and Tania Dufort, for a long weekend. The water taxi was somewhat disconcerted by us arriving with about a dozen bottles of Oxygen for Alice. Alex took command on arrival at Venice and had mapped out a marvellous visit with all the tourist bits plus good restaurants not always known by outsider.

School Years

May 1954 to March 1959:
At St Edmund's School Hindhead where I achieved mixed academic success, but passing Common Entrance Exams. The headmaster was an old school acquaintance of my father's; as a small boy, he was a forbidding figure, having been trapped in a burning Hurricane fighter aircraft early in the War. His face and hands were badly scarred as a result: he was one of the "Guinea Pigs" of Archie McIndoe, the "inventor" of plastic surgery.

May 1959 to Dec 1964:
At Charterhouse School, Godalming.
I was in Pageites house, following my father's footsteps. My academic career took a while to get going, but I eventually achieved results in Maths (B at A level), Physics (B at A and 1 at S levels) and Chemistry (A at A and 2 at S levels) to gain entry into Cambridge on these alone. I stayed on the take Cambridge Scholarship in December 1964, but did not get one! (my physics was up to standard, but maths not).

Early in my time at Charterhouse, I took up rifle shooting seriously, shooting in the Cadet Pair for a year or two and then later in the 1st VIII. We shot with .22 rifles during the winter and with .303's during the summer: our local full-bore range was Bisley, the home of British rifle shooting.

As a complete contrast, I started cross country running when about 16, and ran in the Cross-country VIII for a couple of years. We trained for distances of up to 25 miles, long before the idea of running marathons became popular.

We were required to be members of the Combined Cadet Force and spent Tuesday afternoons in warlike activity. I rapidly found that carting Bren guns (light machine guns) across the Common was much too much like hard work and transferred to the RAF section as soon as possible. There, I learned about aircraft and flying. We had a Link Trainer, the first flight simulator, with full motion and blind flying instruments, and a basic open glider, which we rigged on the playing fields and carried out ground slides with a rubber rope catapult. We had the opportunity to go on a week long gliding course with the RAF cadets. This I did at RAF Swanton Morley in Norfolk, and flew solo after 20 flights. This set me up for my life-long involvement with aircraft.

My "Gap Year" Jan 1965 to Sept 1965

The idea of a gap year, common among university entrants in the 1990's came from the Oxbridge system of entrance exams taken in December for places the following academic year. People did not take exotic trips to far parts of the world as often as now (2000): the air transport system had not developed sufficiently and was still very expensive. I spent about 5 or 6 months working at GKN Research Labs in Wolverhampton. I then went camping in the South of France with a friend for about 5 weeks, joining the family in a hotel for the latter part.

The Cambridge Years, Oct 1965 to June 1968:

At Christ's College, Cambridge. I went up to read Natural Sciences, but rapidly found that the extension of school Physics and Chemistry was Mechanical Sciences (Engineering). At Christmas, after a bit of drama, I changed to Mechanical Sciences, as my father had originally advised! Having missed a term and being put on the fast course, I did not shine in the first year exams, and did a "long vac" term, and moved to the normal course, taking the electrical option. This course and University suited me very well, and I had a most enjoyable 3 years. I came down in June 1968 with a 2.2 degree, a Private Pilot's Licence, a Silver C gliding certificate and the beginning of my ability to maintain cars.

Industrial Career

Hawker Siddeley Aviation, Sept 1968 to May 1970:
Worked for Hawker Siddeley Aviation as an Autocontrols Engineer. Employed on the fault analysis of the Autopilot of the Trident Airliner, the first to be certified for "Category 3" automatic landings (ie with no visual reference). This was not an exciting job and the UK aircraft manufacturing industry did not appear to have a stimulating future. Lived during this period with my oldest friend, Peter Boxer, in a thatched cottage near Cambridge: cold enough for the snow to blow under the kitchen door and not melt on the floor. I left HSA at the end of May, and went to Austria again for 6 weeks.

An Attempt at Management, Sept 1970 to May 1972:
Worked for Rist's Wires and Cables, Newcastle under Lyme as PA to Managing Director, a post which could have led to an job running another Lucas group company. Another job not to my taste. I lived back with my parents, but spent a lot of spare time in Cambridge, where I was still a member of the gliding club, and in London, chasing girls.

AVIATION CAREER

The Bede Years, 1972-78:
Worked at Brockmore Bede Aircraft UK Ltd.
This was a very enjoyable period of my life, even though expensive! The BD project gave me the excuse to travel, fly and work with aircraft and build up experience. I learnt a lot of manual skills that have been useful later in life, and of course gained the flight time allowed me to qualify for a UK professional flying licence, by which I have earned my living for much of the subsequent 25 years. Without this connection, I would not have met my wife or fetched up living in and loving the Welsh border country.

An old friend of my parents, Peter Bayliss, and I had the dealership for most of Western Europe for an American kit built aircraft, the BD5. Peter was the business and aviation expert, and I built the prototype in the garage at The Dower House. This project provided the excuse to visit Wichita, Kansas, several times to liase with Bede Aircraft Inc. This company was run by one Jim Bede, who was a brilliant aircraft design innovator, but should never have been let near the finances! Bede's flew several prototypes/ demonstrators, but never completed the engine installation development. The deal with the US customers (some 4500 of them) was that they were liable to pay the full amount owed when the first of 5 parts of the aircraft was ready for shipment. This money was used by Bede's to finance the BD5 and other projects: in 1977, this all unravelled and Bede's went bust for about $10M! Fortunately, Peter Bayliss had insisted (with little basis in fact!) that this arrangement contravened currency laws in Britain and our customers only paid for what they got, allowing us to escape relatively unscathed. Because of Bede's supply problems, we never received an engine for our demonstrator.

Peter later bought a modified fuselage complete with engine and flew it using my wings and tailplanes; by this time I was married and had to do something more profitable. During this period, I acquired a lot of practical experience of aircraft building, and had the opportunity to fly around Europe visiting our sub-dealers etc. I went to Florida in 1975 Autumn for 4 weeks and completed an American Commercial Pilot's Licence.

During the last 2 years, I completed another of Bede's products, a 2 seater BD4, which I flew around the UK for a couple of years. I took a course for the UK CPL in 1977/78 to enable me to continue with my flying, but to be paid for it.

Peter Bayliss became my mentor in all things aeronautical. He was by training an accountant, but an engineering pilot by inclination. He came from a Wolverhampton steel making family and learnt to fly in the 1930's and was recruited into the "ATA" (Air Transport Auxiliary) as a ferry pilot during World War II, moving all types of military aircraft around the UK for the duration of the War. He flew some 135 types of aircraft in the 6 years. When questioned about it, he had a misty look in his eyes and said he had a lovely war - the ATA was like a big flying club. He continued flying his own aircraft until the day before his death 14/11/1992. His wife, Brenda died in December 1993.

Sun Valley - 1978-1985:
Worked for Sun Valley Poultry, Hereford, as Company Pilot, flying initially a Piper Aztec and later a Navajo, based at Shobdon in Herefordshire. These aircraft were twin piston engined aircraft, the Aztec seating 6 and the Navajo 8 people. The company had a turkey breeding programme, and at one stage had 65% of the French market. The base load for the aircraft was flying day old poults to France. There was a lot of other flying all over Europe, but mainly in France. I gained a lot of experience of operating a company aircraft as a one man band. The turkey programme changed and it was no longer necessary to hatch the breeding stock in Shobdon; the Chief Executive of the time did not like the aircraft. I had become disenchanted with the time wasting at airfields, reading my way through Knighton library, and let it be known that I would be prepared to try something else. Almost immediately, I was put in charge of the engineering in the feed mill, which made about 180,000 tons a year of poultry feed. During the 18 months at the mill, I learnt a lot of heavier practical engineering, but on the whole was an unpleasant experience, long hours. 7 day weeks and lots of stress: I became well known for going to sleep at parties! The final disaster (for me and him) was when one of the builders who worked for me fell through the mill roof and died.

The Spectrum Years, 1985-1992:
Worked for Corbett Farms on Microlight Aircraft. A friend, David Corbett, had part financed a project to produce a microlight aircraft of new design. The designer had disagreed with the rest and left, leaving David with a part built prototype. He asked me to come and finish the design and put it in production. As found, the machine was to be a single seater with glass fibre wings and tail surfaces. I completed the aircraft, and flew it to prove the wings, whose external shape was somewhat unusual.

The first version of the "Spectrum" flew, but the inherited fuselage design was not satisfactory and the wings as already part constructed were known to be limited strength even for a single seater. The market was by now for a two seater.

A significant investment had been made in the wing moulds and about 50 lengths of special aluminium section. I set about designing a new fuselage, using the existing aluminium section. As we had the wing moulds, I used the same section and planform, although we extended the moulds to increase the area. The tail surfaces were also different from the original. All in all, I designed a new aircraft. I was joined after we flew he original aircraft by an old Cambridge friend, Tony Joss. Tony and I and Pete Cary built a representative prototype with new wings based on the structure of the first set. Unfortunately on a proof load test, there was a big bang and the wind fell to the ground. Much gloom and despondency. After consideration, we decided to retire into out workshop and redesign the wing stressing it by calculation rather than by extrapolation. This took about a year. Tony and I worked well together, he is an extremely good craftsman, and did much of the practical work making up tools and jigs while I did the more theoretical design. This was the early days of personal computers. I used an Apple 2e, which had no fixed storage, using floppy discs of 360k capacity. The maximum size of a spreadsheet was 82K. I wrote a spreadsheet to stress the strutted wing. Because of the feedback of the strut, it took 3 iterations to settle down. Recalculating gave us time to go to the canteen and have a coffee. My first portable IBM computer took 3 seconds to do this and a modern one must do it in about a millisecond, such is progress. We tested (carefully) the surviving wing we had built and then succeeded in making a test wing and adjusting the spreadsheet so that the deflections fitted the calculation and which by modification we made reach the design load without failure.

The demonstrator flew well and had adequate performance. It was decided to put it in production. We built about 20, but could never reduce the costs enough to make it a viable product, and closed the company down. It was a satisfying period, to be able to design, build, flight test and put into production a complete aircraft. I kept up my commercial flying, and became involved in 1989 with some others buying a light twin-engined aircraft which we put out for air- taxi work. For a while, this worked well: a major user was Control Techniques, who were expanding rapidly. However, CT bought their own aircraft in early 1990 and the owners almost completely stopped flying, and we sold the aircraft at considerable (and embarrassing) loss. I continued to fly CT's Commander 840, Microflight subcontracting my time until MFA was closed down when I continued as self employed.

Piloting 1992-2007 and on:
Self Employed Pilot.

In becoming a self employed pilot, I continued with the type of flying I had been doing since joining Sun Valley. When MFA ceased operations, I had discussions with Control Techniques who said it would be better for both parties if I continued to operate their Commander as self employed.

I thus continued to work as I had for much of the previous 15 year, but with the doubtful benefit of being more my own boss.

A corporate pilot's lot is a curious one: looked at logically, one is very little different from a chauffeur, providing transport to company personnel and customers. The first difference is that the budget for the aircraft is in the order of £250,000 to 500,000, rather more than a car! In fact, one is treated much more as an equal by the passengers and part of the team; when I operated without another pilot, I often spent the evenings with the passengers; not always an advantage if the food and wine is good and there is an early start! When flying customers, the crew often will be the ones giving the passengers their first impression of the company.

An airline pilot is given a roster monthly and thus knows what he will be doing during that period. The aircraft is presented to him fuelled and all planning done. His worry only starts when he takes over the aircraft and finishes when the passengers have left. It is someone else's worry if the aircraft breaks down, the weather delays everything etc.

On the other hand, the corporate pilot often has little advance knowledge of the future programme and if he thinks he does, it will probably change! (A recent call at 1200: can you go to Madrid this afternoon for the night?) When he finally thinks all is fixed, he usually has to sort out how he will make the travel plans possible: is the aircraft ready for flight, has it enough fuel, are the airports open and willing to accept the flight, can he defeat the mysteries of the Brussels flight plan computer, have we got everyone's favourite biscuits, coffee and booze? When all is sorted out, it is not unknown for the passengers to arrive with more than booked, causing loading problems or upsetting customs bookings, or they may say, by the way, we need to go back home via Timbuktu, leading to a day of replanning and booking. Some pilots find the whole process too stressful, preferring to drive the machine and retire home at the end of the day and forget it all. Others revel in the challenge and the feeling of being part of the organisation. There are usually a relatively small number of different passengers, who one gets to know, and who like to see familiar faces in the front.

Most companies have a few regular destinations, but there are usually frequent trips to random other places. A change in the company's business thrust often leads to new places becoming the norm. One visits a wide variety of places that would not be on any tourist itinerary, some not worth returning to, others delightful. One night the crew might be in a dingy hotel in some cold, grey industrial town having arrived after everything has closed; the next they might find themselves eating delicious fish by the sea on the Mediterranean after en afternoon on the beach. It all adds to life's rich tapestry.

A Typical week for the corporate pilot:

Week of 3 November 2003:

Monday: organise the week's flying,

Tuesday: send 2 pilots off to Moenchen Gladbach (Germany) in CT aircraft ("BLK"). Drive to Wolverhampton to retrieve Mother from hospital and settle her with Carer and cousin Carol-Ann. Drive to Fairoaks intending to position a second Commander (BMZ) to Angouleme for flight early the following day to Vienna, returning on Friday afternoon, with BLK taking Control Techniques passengers from Welshpool to Vienna midday Wednesday, returning Thursday. Half way to Fairoaks, the French passenger demands the other aircraft for his trip. Some thought and pull off motorway to make phone calls. Confirm that the crew in BLK can fly BMZ. Reschedule to fly BMZ to Welshpool for other crew to take passengers on Wednesday, and wait at Fairoaks until co-pilot comes off duty before flying to Welshpool to change aircraft and fly to Angouleme, to arrive there about 2200.

Take-off at 0800 Wednesday morning for Vienna, drop one passenger and fly remaining 3 to Brno, Czech republic. Lunch there and return to Vienna, arriving about 1700. Organise taxis for incoming flight from Welshpool. All 4 crew into city in time for dinner - rather expensive, slightly tourist restaurant, but Perch Pike better than at Brno for lunch! Rather too much drink and jollity.

Thursday day off for me and my copilot, late departure for the Welshpool bound crew. Morning visit to Spanish Riding School to watch the Lipizaner horses being schooled. Explored the tram system, starting with the wrong tram in the wrong direction.

Out to dinner with the crew of the 2 Emerson Falcon jets, who return to the US Friday via Iceland. During pre dinner drinks, phone call to say that the Welshpool bound aircraft (BMZ) has a faulty Gyro and Colin is taking our Aircraft to Welshpool. A good dinner with the American pilots, although a bit serious. Return to hotel and try to sort Australian and American paperwork for new aircraft. After some consultation, decide to ferry BMZ to Fairoaks for repair in fair weather and daylight, taking off at 800, to return with BLK for the French passengers. Arrange with Colin to meet me at Fairoaks with BLK to return to Vienna. Fast run Vienna to Fairoaks, quick turn round there and slow back to Vienna: 1 hour on ground in Vienna and then fast run to Angouleme, quick turn round for Welshpool, flying back in perfect night weather. Superb views of fireworks (Guy Fawks displays) over South Wales. Land at Welshpool at 2030.

Borrow car to return home. Take-off at 0730 for Fairoaks Saturday morning to retrieve my car. Meet Isabel at Hatton Cross tube at 0930, drive west and stop in Cirencester to retax her new car before the Post offices close at midday. Continue on home with everything finally back in place. Friend for dinner and out to long lunch party Sunday. Off to Vicenza, Italy Monday 0800. Light lunch, but joined a party of Americans, one of whom was a Major in Intelligence, based nearby, with friend from US, an Anglican Priest. Left their house about 0200!

Another Week 5-10 September 2004.

Sunday 5^th: scheduled to leave Welshpool for Berlin Templehof at 1700 with Bob Jones as co-pilot, timing being slightly critical due to Berlin closure. Bob flying helicopter for a horse racing friend, they ran late and we got airborne at about 1815 with apparent headwind, which did not materialise and thus were able to land at Templehof about 20 minutes before closure - at one time it looked as if we would have to divert early to Hanover and leave there early in the morning for the 0800 departure from Templehof. This airport is under threat of closure which would be very sad. It is a convenient airport in the city and was the main airport for Berlin. Built in the 1930's as a monument to the Nazi power, it has a unique curved terminal and hangar, with an overhanging roof over the aircraft parking area. It appears in many films made around the WW2. We made the hotel near to the airport, and had a quick supper (salted herrings) and then retired.

Monday 6^th, Berlin: up at 0630 for a 0800 departure with 3 passengers (1 company man and 2 customers) for Egelsbach, a good private airport near Frankfurt, to pick up another company sales executive. Depart for Lyon (Bron) airport. 2 good sectors which ran to time in almost completely clear weather. Bron is the old Lyon airport and is very good for our type of operation, with helpful good looking staff and a small hotel and restaurant nearby. Lunch was made more interesting by there being a large contingent of fashion models also lunching - very young! (Vichyssoise and fish). Spent the hours on the ground in the (air-conditioned) terminal working on family history. A nice tourist flight to Angouleme in the late afternoon. Drinks in the Blues Rock Café followed by pizza at the Scorpitonni with a nice bottle of Cote de Bourg and a calvados at the café.

Tuesday 7^th, Angouleme, Hotel de France: Worked in room for the first part of the morning, and then a bit of shopping followed by salad for lunch in the square. Out to the airport at 1430 (via the Citroen dealer to order parts for my car) for a 1700 departure for Egelsbach. On time departure and arrival, met by Colin Morris who had come out scheduled to change with Bob, who had to return to UK. On the Berlin (after some confusion over flight planned departure times, which had been delayed an hour by someone) to deposit the customers, who had had a reasonable meeting. Again stayed in the local hotel, up a bit too late drinking with the barman. Good turkey in lemon source.

Wednesday 8^th, Berlin: Up at 0730 for a 0900 departure empty for Montbeliard near Belfort in Eastern France, landing there at about 1045, to refuel (German Jet fuel heavily taxed therefore arrive in France with minimum fuel) and pick up 2 passengers. Had a very pretty flight at low level back to Angouleme in time for lunch. Spent the afternoon at the airfield, and departed (after a slight ATC delay) for Brno, Czech Republic with 5 passengers, after a slow start, we made up time and landed at 2015. Checked in at the hotel and then out to a bar known by Colin, a small brewery where we ate well and cheaply (pork ribs, well cooked) in busy surroundings.

Thursday 9^th, Hotel International, Brno: Brno is the second city of Czech and has some nice buildings typical of the area, and very pretty girls in their summer finery, although the weather was cooler than further west. After a little work in the hotel, walked up to the castle and then round the vegetable market - good quality local produce, very cheap. Out to the airport at 1300 to file flight plans, which seemed to work to our surprise (the European Flight Planning computer is notorious for rejecting filed routes - the system, like many centralised bureaucracies, does not cater well for the likes of us operating between small non airline airports - it can be a nightmare trying to find an acceptable route). Lunch in the airport restaurant, and then a little more work in the crew room. High point a spectacular departure by a Belgian F16 fighter - Mach 0.95 and 50 ft and then spectacular climb away. Passengers arrived early with us telling them we had a 30 minute delay, induced we were told by Vienna arrivals. Asked for start up and found that the flight plan was under the wrong registration - refiling the flight plan produced an initial delay of a further 1-45! This was reduced by telephoning the flow control unit in Brussels to 45 minutes. Finally took off 1-15 late, but made up a little and arrived at Angouleme about an hour late, just ahead of a spectacular thunderstorm arriving from the Bordeaux direction, where it had been delaying flights. Just made it into the Blues Rock Café without getting too wet, where we had a congenial evening with the English drummer(?) of a band who were playing that evening - too late and too much to drink.

Friday 10^th, Hotel de France, Angouleme: Surface late, and spent some time on family history, before going out for coffee and lunch. Picked up at 1400 for the airport, collecting my car spares on the way. Refuelled and flight planned to return the passengers to Montbeliard, Belfort: they arrived a bit early and we arrived in MB at 1800, where we had a short ATC delay before leaving for Fairoaks to drop Colin and have a drink with Peter Ryan, who has worked there for some time and flown with us, and was leaving to fly in Malaysia the next day. Finally arrive back at Welshpool at 2015 after over 20 hours flying and 6 days. Tired!

Sometimes it all Goes Wrong!

Cutting from Paper:

Plane Drama After bird hits Engine

A business trip to France ended in drama for seven Mid Wales business associates when their light aircraft was hit by a bird.

The plane, which had taken off from the Mid Wales Airport at Welshpool, landed with one engine shut down amid a full emergency alert at Birmingham International Airport yesterday:

Fire crews were put on standby just after 7am as the Aero Commander twin turbo prop was forced to change course 20 minutes into its flight to Paris.

Pilot Tony Maitland shut one of the twin engines after the plane was struck by a bird and diverted to Birmingham. He said he had shut down the engine and landed at Birmingham as a precaution and the airport fire crews had been brought in as part of normal emergency procedure.

"The bird had struck one propeller and had upset the instrument readings. We shut down the engine and diverted to Birmingham as a precaution," said Mr Maitland who was taking six colleagues to a business meeting in Paris.

The business group had returned to Welshpool by car leaving the plane to be checked over by engineers in Birmingham.

"There was no external damage but the instruments may have been thrown out."

Repair bill in fact was £40,000. All due to a buzzard hit by the propeller: it did not survive!

Gliding

Gliding was my major recreational activity for about 20 years, and I became one of the more experienced pilots around, having had the opportunity to fly in a number of different places, both in the UK and abroad. It is a challenging aviation sport, combining the hand-eye skill of flying the glider to its best with the cerebral challenge of optimising ones ability to make the best of whatever the air might through at one. Decisions are often made on very tenuous evidence on which hang the success of the whole flight.

I started gliding at school in April 1963 with the Combined Cadet Corps on a course at Swanton Morley, Norfolk, and went on second course at Halesland, Somerset, in April 1964, and a 3rd course at Halesland, April 1965. I continued gliding with the Cambridge University Gliding Club, becoming Undergraduate Secretary. Bought a share in a Skylark 3f in 1966, gaining a Silver C in 1967. Flew in Zell-am-Zee, Austria in 1967 with partner, Sigfrid Neumann a German ex POW married to a Swede and resident in Cambridgeshire since release from camp. He had flown gliders with the Hitler Youth during the war and continued with the CUGC: he is reputed to have landed his glider at an active military airfield while still a prisoner: he was incarcerated for the night, but sprung from jail by fellow club members! (He died in 2004).

Spent 6 weeks in gliding in Zell after sitting finals (1968), Syndicate changed to Diamant 18 in 1969, gaining Diamond height (5000 metres gain) in 1969, and Diamond Distance and Goal in 1970. Flew in Zell in 1971 and 1972. My visits were for between 3 and 6 weeks: I contrived to change jobs in the summer and extended the time between them to allow a long summer break. After 1972, I flew more with a friend, Justin Wills at various competitions, Enterprise in England and the French Mountain competition at Vinon sur Verdon for 2 years and then at the Spanish Nationals in Mora del Toledo (due to weather, the latter Comp was written off: 4000 miles driving for nothing!).

After the mid 1980's, the amount of gliding I did decreased and I have only done a few flights since 1990. Pressure of family life and my work being on small airfields removed the pleasure of being at a gliding field. At the moment (2002), I regard gliding as being "on hold", rather than finished.

My best flights were a 590km distance in the French Alps (taking over 9 hours!) and a climb to 31500 feet asl from Shobdon. The Austrian Alps provided me with some of the best flying, but a flight from Vareze (Calcinate del Pesce) in the Italian Alpine foothills north of Milan, takes a lot of beating for sheer beauty: I ended up at 17500 feet over the Matterhorn on a completely clear Alpine afternoon in June, followed by a beat up of the top of the Monte Rosa before descending into what I now know was typical Milan basin murk.

Cutting from Express and Star, Monday March 20 1967:

(DH P36-04)

DIAMOND GLIDING

Under ideal weather conditions glider pilots were able to produce

excellent performances at the Midland Gliding Club, Longmynd, Church Stretton, over the week end.

Fourteen pilots were able to climb over 12,000 feet, one of them, Mr. Ronald Rutherford, of Cheshire, reaching 18,000 feet.

With this performance Mr Rutherford will, subject to ratification by the British Gliding Association, receive a diamond award for height.

Tony Maitland, of Wolverhampton had a near miss with 17,450.

CARS

From the time I left school, I have always driven a high annual mileage around Britain, with many European trips, mostly towing glider trailers (about 35 ft long). My driving career has covered some of the best times for driving, although the national 70 limit came in early in my time. It was not however particularly strongly enforced before the days of speed cameras. I was lucky enough to be able to have had a couple of interesting, high performance cars when the roads were good enough but empty enough to be able to use their performance. My early foreign trips were to Europe without speed limits although usually with the glider on the back.

The first car I had for my own use was a BMW Isetta - a "Bubble Car" - one of two bought by my uncle Peter Waddell during the Suez crisis to take advantage of their low fuel consumption when there was a threat of petrol rationing. It was a 4 wheel car, but with a very narrow rear track. To get in the car, the whole front was hinged, with the steering column on a pair of universal joints. It would do about 55 mph, powered by a single cylinder engine.

When I left school, I had the use of my mother's Morris 1000, now surplus to requirements. I fitted twin carburettors to this car, and a tow bar. A friend and I drove to the South of France in this car with his boat in tow. The 1000 was followed by a Sunbeam Rapier, which I had in my second year at Cambridge (I kept it at the gliding club as we were not usually allowed cars there, although as secretary of the club in my last year, I was given permission to have one). The Rapier was a slightly warmed up family mid size saloon, and had sporting pretensions. It was fun to drive and seemed at the time to go well. My first serious car was a 1960 Jaguar XK150S saloon, which I bought in the Easter Vacation 1968 (for £450). I picked it up in South London and succeeded in running out of petrol on the Edgware road on the way home! This XK was the immediate predecessor of the "E type", and had a similar very high performance, reaching 60 in some 6.5 seconds and a top speed of about 135-140.

I had a lot of fun in the XK: I had it at a time when I was exploring the freedom of my own time and a powerful car. It also had a number of taxing mechanical problems around the place! To everyone's horror, I had the cylinder head off to replace a damaged piston in the 4 weeks before my finals at Cambridge: I was booked to go to Austria with the glider as soon as the exams finished and so I had to do it then! I had a number of memorable trips in it: 3 trips to Zell-am-Zee, Austria, in 1968 going on to Vienna and returning to Zell with a broken oil pump, which I repaired in the Gliding Club carpark. Another trip was one to join the family in Cassis, South of France, in 1969. I took a girl friend, Anna Jane Stewart, with me and set off from the Channel, flat out for Cassis, reaching there the same afternoon: my Uncle Pete could not understand why I had not taken the maximum time; AJ was a very beautiful girl! (and a very good looking woman in 2001). We returned via my old friends, the de Richemont's chateau near Limoges.

From there, passing through Le Mans, I could not resist doing 135 mph down the Mulsanne straight of the race track, parts of which are public roads for most of the year. The trip finished with a midnight drive from Newhaven to Boulogne to try to catch a ferry: we did, by 5 minutes having done 98 miles in 80 minutes on ordinary roads.

Yet another memorable drive was returning from Zell in 1969/70 with the glider on the back: the engine blew a hole in a piston on the autobahn, half way between Cologne and Frankfurt at 5am. Fortunately, some other English glider pilots from Zell came along and towed me to the next service area and gave me a lift back home: it took about 4 days to tow the car and trailer separately back to England with an old diesel van.

In about 1969, I built up a new engine for the XK with cleaned up heads and inlets, balanced crank and lightened flywheel, bored out to 3.9L with D type cams. This was a significant improvement on the standard. I carried out all the work myself except for that requiring machine tools. I have followed the same principle on all cars since then, including the Astons and the Scimitar.

The XK was replaced in September 1970 by an Aston Martin DB4, which I bought (£1050) from Richard Williams, then running a specialist maintenance and preparation service from premises under a railway arch in Brixton (he has since moved to Cobham in Surrey). During the next couple of years I rebuilt the engine and upgraded it from 3.7L 2 carburettor to 4L with 3 carbs and Vantage cams, cleaned up head and valves and rebuilt body and revised overdrive ratio. By luck, it had a close ratio gearbox: 50 in 1^st, 70 in 2^nd, 95 in 3^rd etc. It became a very quick road car with lovely handling, a much better car than the XK, which I kept (never got around to selling) and last drove in early 1972. An indication of the Aston's performance was reaching 148 mph before running out of road - it would have made the 150.

The Aston proved more reliable than the XK, perhaps because my skills had improved. I made a number of European trips in it, 2 to Austria and one to a competition in the French Alps. An example of its performance even with a glider behind was driving back from Zell overnight to the Channel in just over 12 hours for 750 miles. Another fast trip was my parents house in Oaken to Cambridge, 126 miles in 95 minutes (80 mph/128 kph) with only about 30 miles of dual carriageway: a fast car and roads which were much emptier and no speed cameras! Over 6 years I did about 120000 miles in this car, and courted Alice in it (who asked half way back from London what it was, so she was not that impressed). On our return from honeymoon in 1976, we went to Cardiff to collect some prize won by a Californian relative of Alice's. Returning late night, doing about 90mph, I was dazzled by headlights, drove round to the left of them only to find that they were from a car in a layby on my side of the road by which time it was too late to change direction: the car was damaged beyond economic repair. Not frightening, just very sad. This was followed by the most unwise thing I have probably done (in hindsight): I was offered another DB4 for £1500, with a valuation of £350 on the salvage on my own. I thought I was a newly married man and should have a sensible car and bought an Austin Maxi for the same money, which I scrapped 5 years later due to rust; the Maxi was an early 5 door hatchback, with a good concept, very poorly executed.

For those who may not know, a good DB4 in 2006 will go for about £100,000, and the DB4GT I looked at first in 1970 for £1250 (and did not buy as it had no rear seats and was too short to tow glider trailers!) would be worth much more that that. My old car, 116 DLC, became a donor car when a number of factory sanctioned DB4GT Zagatos were produced by Richard Williams in about 1991.

The Maxi was followed by a company Ford and then a Rover 2200TC, a comfortable car with a little performance, eventually scrapped with rust and mechanical problems. I then (following my father's footsteps of a decade or more earlier) bought a Reliant Scimitar for £500 with an engine with run out bearings.

The Scimitar was the first of the fast estate cars, with a fibreglass body and Ford V6 engine. Mine had been retrofitted with the later 2.8L engine. I had this engine out a number of times during my ownership of the car - 13 years. I modified it with a faster cam and 5 speed gearbox. When in a good mood, it was a nice car to drive, with adequate performance and handling. With its estate body, it was a practical car for my lifestyle. Eventually, it was becoming very tatty and I had had it too long to summon the enthusiasm to restore it and so sold it.

The Scimitar was replaced first by an Citroen Saxo VTS, a complete change of style from the Scimitar, being a modern small hot hatchback; it was fun to drive and very economical. This in turn was replaced by a Seat Leon Cupra R, a very fast medium size 5 door saloon, capable of 145 mph. It is the fastest car I have owned since the DB4, and by far the quickest point to point on English roads. A lovely car to drive.

For my 60^th birthday to myself, I bought my first car as a toy, all preceding models having to serve as everyday transport. I now have a 1971 Aston Martin DBSV8, which I acquired with a non running engine. 6 months later it was on the road with a rebuilt engine (by myself as always). After a summer of driving it, I decided I was not yet old enough for an automatic gearbox and therefore fitted a 5 speed manual box in place of the old auto.

Farming:

We bought the Gables in 1978 with about 5 acres of grazing land, and for the first couple of years a friend in the village kept her horses (in training for "point to point" races) there, using our stables. Alice had the luxury of having splendid horses provided for her to hunt, with them being delivered to the door, ready tacked and polished.

As a number of our local friends were sheep farmers (young and enthusiastic like us), I had a couple of orphan lambs to rear one spring. They should have gone for meat, but survived to breed: "small lambikin" surviving into old age having produced many offspring. Sue about this time removed her horses and so I bought 10 ewes at market, it being more interesting to have my own stock than let the ground out for grazing.

After a false start with a peculiar Welsh breed, I started keeping Hampshire Downs, being the "Norton" flock of the Breed association. By 2003, the flock was predominantly pure, pedigree, except for a few old mongrels who always survive beyond their normal span. One intention when moving house was to farm them better: during their first summer (2003) at Dolwilkin Farm, they performed better than they ever had at The Gables, with 2½ times the area and an exceptionally dry year, which always benefits sheep. The ground at Dolwilkin was not in very good heart when we moved, being much less productive than The Gables, whose grass I had spent some time improving with weed control etc.

Sheep farming in this small way should be a cheap hobby, with the possibility of adding interest and maybe income from the sale of breeding stock.

Where was I When…………

Calder Hall 1^st nuclear generating station in the UK, October 1956, when I was at prep school. We were given a talk by the headmaster on the importance of the plant. It was thought at the time that electricity would be so cheap that it would be free. When my father was specifying the rebuild of the Dower House, he put thermostats in each room: each room would have its own electric heater, the energy being so cheap.

JFK assassination: at school in "Markenhorn", a temporary house. All of us struck by Jackie's beauty etc!

9/11: at home with Isabel, during university holidays. Called by Mary Small, who was at work at the BBC World Service news desk, to turn on TV immediately.

Space shuttle Columbia crash:

Jan 2003: At breakfast in hotel in St Louis Missouri, with flying colleagues prior to going on to Oklahoma City for further training.

Extract from local paper during Foot & Mouth epidemic in 1967. Mr Holloway was a neighbour to the Dower House. AM had helped on the farm as a boy. The cattle were buried in the field just outside the Dower House boundary on a cold foggy winter day. It all seemed very gloomy. Like many small farms, this one has disappeared and the farm house in Oaken gentrified.

PLAGUE IN 'TOP' HERD

By Allan Weir, our agricultural

correspondent

For 30 years, farmer Harry Holloway has been rearing pedigree Friesian cattle. His Crackley herd, on his Nursery Farm, at Middle-lane, Oaken, near Codsall, has twice won for him the Staffordshire Agricultural Society's small herds competition. Up till now, these dairy cattle have averaged 1,300 gallons, at 3.95 per cent. butterfat content.

But, late last night, Mr. Holloway knew that this was all over. Foot and mouth had struck. Complying with Ministry advice, Mr. Holloway had kept his 70 Friesians under cover for eight weeks, to avoid the risk of the disease. Despite this, he noticed a slight lameness in one of them, yesterday. He promptly called in a vet and his fears were confirmed.

CAN'T BE BOUGHT

Now these fine dairy animals, including three stock bulls which Mr. Holloway had reared for sale, are being destroyed.

He will start again, but, as he says; "You can't buy blood like this."

The outbreak at Nursery Farm is about a mile from the recent outbreak at Mr. Bert Ingram's Husphins Farm.

Ferrying Aircraft

I have been asked to ferry a number of aircraft from point to point in the world, mostly Turbo Commanders, on which I have amassed a lot of experience. The Commander is a turbo-prop 8 seat executive aircraft, with good speed and short runway capability.

Cessna 340 Florida-UK January, 1989.

Lakeland, Fl; Manasses, Va; Washington Dulles; Goose Bay; Reykjavik; East Midlands, Shobdon.

This aircraft was being bought by a group of local business people, principally for their own use, but to be used for outside charter work when available. I had a sixth share in the aircraft: the other owners wanted me to share in the business. We commissioned an acquaintance at Shobdon to find the aircraft in the US, and he and I were to ferry it back. Alice and I went out to the US to come back in the Cessna, which at the time was in Montrose, Colorado. We had come out via New Orleans, where we had a few days in the week leading up to Mardi Gras, staying on Bourbon Street (where else if in New Orleans?). We were very taken with the city and did the tourist bit, with a trip on a paddle steamer etc. The exercise went wrong on arrival in Montrose to find the aircraft nowhere ready. Alice and I immediately took a schedule back from there to London, via Denver. I went out again about a week later and met up with the Cessna in Lakeland Florida where it had gone to have ferry tanks fitted.

Our first sector was from Lakeland to Manasses airport, Virginia, where we stayed the night with Peter Boxer, who was working there at the time. We had to go to Dulles airport to clear customs, and then on to Goose Bay, Labrador where we landed on a beautiful night with spectacular aurora borealis displays. The starter motor failed on one engine at Goose, and I had to hand swing the engine to start it in temperature of -23°C. We loaded all the tanks and set off in the dark for Reykjavik, Iceland, the first part being again surrounded by the northern lights. These 2 sectors were notable for the low air temperatures at cruising altitudes, -50°C. A quick flight with good winds and arrival in Iceland in time for breakfast, refuel and on to East Midlands for customs, and finally to Shobdon, 241 hours from Washington. A good introduction to Atlantic ferrying.

Turbo Commander Bergamo-Toronto December, 1996:

Bergamo; Fairoaks; Shobdon; Glasgow; Reykjavik; Narssassuaq; Goose Bay; Sept Isles; Toronto Buttonville.

This was an old aircraft which had not flown for some time: I ferried it solo to Fairoaks for some work before crossing the Atlantic. (I went to Bergamo from London City on a new airline and new BA146 with myself and a journalist as the only passengers). As the Commander had no operative auto-pilot, an old friend, Tony Joss, came with me. He had done a lot of glider towing, but not much straight-line flying. The cabin pressurisation was very poor, and to enable us to fly high enough to reduce the fuel consumption to make the longer sectors, we carried 2 large oxygen bottles, normally used by Alice. We had a night stop in Iceland, having dinner in Reykjavik city where we were disagreeably surprised by the prices, but otherwise enjoyed the place!

The next sector was to arrive at dawn in Greenland. The result was a spectacularly beautiful arrival over the southern icecap as the sun was rising, with the rocky peaks bathed in salmon pink light as they poked out of the snow fields. The arrival at Narssarssuaq from the East comes in over the high snow fields and steeply down into the blue hole of the fjord.

The remainder of the flight via Goose Bay, Sept Isles (on the St Laurence) to Toronto Buttonville was undramatic, except for arriving at Buttonville in the dark, pouring rain and low fuel. Buttonville is a small GA airport west of Toronto International Airport. The aircraft was destined for Indianapolis, but as neither of us had US visas, we did not enter the US: the visa waiver programme was only valid when arriving by scheduled airline. We returned to the UK the following day.

Turbo Commander Johannesburg-Indianapolis, March/April 1997:

J'burg; Harare; Nairobi; Finch Hatton's; Jeddah; Athens; Fairoaks; Reykjavik; Narssarssuaq; Mont Joli; Indianapolis.

I was asked to make this flight by Doug Jacob, a colleague who wheels & deals in the Turbo Commander community. The aircraft was a Commander 840 with long range tanks. It had been bought by a dealer in Indianapolis after a life in South Africa. Basically, not a bad aircraft. I flew out to Johannesburg when the aircraft was said to be ready: it was, of course not quite! I was able to spend a few days with an old friend, Pinty Rivera and reminisce over the past 30 years.

Eventually, the aircraft was ready for the air. On the 7th March, I set off north with Doug and a friend of his, Bob Willhelm, a Canadian living in Southern Africa, who was setting up a new maintenance operation in Nairobi. We therefore had the aircraft full of kit for his business. Bob had been a test and demo pilot for De Havilland Canada and had a fund of stories of near escapes in aircraft.

The 840's range is not quite enough to make Nairobi direct, and so we refuelled in Harare, where a confusion over fuel amounts led to an extremely heavy aircraft for take-off. The weather in Johannesburg had been bad, but from the Zambezi on was perfect, flying at 27000 feet giving good views of the rift valley. I bought some new topographical maps and so was able to follow what we actually saw (the high level airmaps do not show more than coastlines). Although new from the shop, it became apparent that they were not the most recent survey: Harare was still called Salisbury about 20 years after independence! Still, the rivers and mountains do not change much in that time. Real navigation was conducted entirely by a small, hand held Satellite navigation receiver, which performed flawlessly over the whole trip.

First action on arrival in Nairobi was for Bob to disappear into a corner with the Customs man to settle the matter of all his kit we had in the aircraft. Bob returned, satisfied, saying that the Customs man did not know how much duty had been saved! We then moved the aircraft to a discrete fence and offloaded all the equipment into a scruffy Range Rover in which one felt like a local.

We had 3 nights in Nairobi with Bob: he had some potential buyers for the aircraft. To that end, we took them to a game lodge in which they had a half share for Sunday lunch. The lodge was called Finch Haddon and was on the North side of Mount Kilimanjaro. It had a 1200 metre gravel strip. The lodge itself was made up of elegant canvas huts with a good restaurant, where we had a good Sunday lunch, before flying back to Nairobi. We then waited for a further day while the possible clients decided not to be clients.

Doug and I then set off back to England with a long day from Nairobi to Jeddah to refuel and then on to Athens, both 6 hour flights of about 1750 miles. The views over Ethiopia routing over Addis Abba were fascinating, making one appreciate how dry and barren a lot of it is. I was particularly struck by the grid pattern of tracks & roads in the wide plain South of Addis, showing how it must have been developed: it was apparent that the population was relatively dense there. This is presumably why that region is so susceptible to its recurrent droughts. North of there, the flight passed over the high mountains and the source of the White Nile and over the Red Sea to Jeddah.

Unlike the earlier part of the flight, Jeddah was a model of efficiency, with a 45 minute refuel. The next sector took in the Red Sea coast of Saudi and Sinai peninsula, a spectacularly rugged place, followed by the north-east corner of Egypt and across the sea to Athens, arriving on a windy night.

Our night in Greece was spent at a mediocre hotel near the airport, and so I still have to see Greece from the ground. We left Athens promptly the next morning for another 6 hour sector back to Fairoaks. It was as well that we were early, as my wife's health had deteriorated seriously between talking to her in Athens the night before and arriving in Fairoaks: fortunately the CT aircraft was there and flew me direct back to Shobdon: she died less than 48 hours after reaching home.

After her funeral on the 21st March, the children having gone back to school, I needed some distraction and so I continued the job, leaving Fairoaks on the 25th for the US. Doug again accompanied me. We routed direct to Reykjavik for fuel and then to Narssarssuaq, Greenland, where we stopped for the night, partly because I had never stayed in Greenland and partly because I had already been "on-duty" for over 11 hours, having done an early (0450 take-off) flight for Control Techniques. We were not due in Indianapolis until the following day and so there was no hurry.

The settlement at Narssarssuaq is, to say the least, small, with a local population of about 500 people. The hotel was adequate being a converted US airforce barrack block from the era of the 1950's when the airport was used for ferrying fighters from the US to Europe. At this time of year, the whole inlet was still icebound, although the actual weather was not too cold. When the weather is good, it is spectacularly beautiful, with the inlet being fed by glaciers coming direct down from the high ice-cap to the East. Without taking surface transport, an afternoon is enough to see the sights! The local road only goes about half a mile down the inlet and perhaps a couple of miles up the inlet. There are small settlements around much of that coast, served by helicopter links and boats. The survive on fishing and farming. Rather surprisingly, quite a bit of lamb is grown there, with a plant processing about 50000 head further south. The Greenland economy, however depends totally on grants from Copenhagen to the tune of $50M for a population of just over 50000. And some talk of independence!

The following day we flight planned to Sept Isles for fuel, but had to divert to Mont-Joli further up the St Lawrence due to snow: a warm front was approaching from the West, clearing the snow. The next sector was relatively straight forward direct to Indianapolis, arriving at 1730 local, half an hour late on the estimate given several days before.

I had a quick dinner there with Matt Hagen, the dealer. I had to talk to his daughter on the phone, who wanted to hear a real English voice! By about 2000, I was on the late flight back to London via Chicago: I was away from England exactly 48 hours! A tiring trip that took my mind off family woes.

Turbo Commander Johannesburg-Oshkosh September 1997

Jo'burg; Lillongwi (Malawi); Nairobi (Wilson); Asmara; Alexandria; Bari; Cannes; Fairoaks; Shobdon; Glasgow; Reykjavik; Sondrestrom; Iqualuit; La Grande Rivier; Sault St Marie; Chippawa; Sturgeon Bay; Oshkosh.

Another flight organised by Doug Jacob. This time I was moving the aircraft for a private buyer, Bill Sheppard from Wisconsin. It was a relatively early Turbo Commander with basic old radio kit. I went on this occasion with an old friend, David Corbett from Herefordshire. He is an experienced private pilot, with whom I had been involved in the microlight years.

We both stayed with Pinti again, and had an entertaining time with her, one very noisy evening at an Italian restaurant with a bunch of their friends. Again, Johannesburg was wet and cool, and again the aircraft was not ready for our arrival. I had the slightly taxing task of ferrying it from Jan Smuts (the international airport) to Lanseria immediately after arriving from London on the overnight flight. There was then a couple of days rectification and paperwork before we could set off.

This Commander had a shorter range than the later ones, and we limited our sectors to about 1100 miles. We left on the 11 September in pouring rain for Lillongwi, Malawi. This is a big runway with a small terminal, set within sight (from the air) of Lake Malawi. The turnround there was comparatively efficient, with friendly people. The view on departure of the Lake with the mountains to the East was beautiful, blue of the water and green of the land, set off by towering cumulus clouds (which did not get too frighteningly large).

We then flew as before up to Nairobi through Mozambique (to whom I never spoke: no answer) and Tanzania, leaving Killimanjaro on our right, and the rift valley, stopping to circle over and photograph some craters. We were carrying more supplies for Bob Willhelm. On arrival at Wilson, the Customs remarked on it all, but when Bob's name was mentioned, relaxed: as his friends we were obviously OK. He arrived shortly after and settled the matter in the local way. We overnighted in Bob's house as on the previous trip.

Two memories of the airport this time were taking a dead-end taxiway, when normally a Commander can be rescued by using the reversers: they did not work (found in England to be a fault in the way the overhauled propellers had been assembled), and so we had the ignominy of having to be manhandled out. The other, more seriously was a large pool of fuel on the apron the next day from leaking fuel tanks (the older marques have bag tanks which decay in the African heat). I had idly thought there seemed to be oil in the rainwater in Lanseria. An official quoted some huge charge the airport made for fuel spillages, but I realised rapidly that his charges would be less! We cleared customs with one engine running to avoid anyone coming too close!

We left Nairobi after just the one night for Asmara (Eritrea) and Alexandria. The route was similar to the one I had taken six months before past Addis Abbaba, but the visibility was not quite as good. We passed through the short rains in Ethiopia as they moved south with the sun. Asmara was a small quiet airport set in a high dry plateau, blocked from the Red Sea by high mountains. At this time of year it is relatively green and flowery, the rains just having finished. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to visit the town, which is said show strong Italian influence from their occupation in the 1930's. It looked interesting from the air on climb out, and might be worth a visit on another occasion. This was a period of calm in the ongoing war between Eritrea and Ethiopia (who were one, if not a united, country for a while) who fight over the borders in the middle of deserts - seems a bit pointless.

Leaving Asmara, we flew up the Red Sea via the Sinai to Alexandria, arriving late afternoon to find the place in more chaos than usual: eventually we found that Madeleine Albright, US secretary of state, was due later that day for talks with the Egyptian President. The immigration officials were slightly puzzled why I could not speak Arabic having been born in Cairo: my first visit since the age of 3 months! We were booked into a hotel on the shore slightly East of the City centre, and so never saw what I believe is still and attractive place, in which my parents had been during the second war. In the morning, we were collected by the airport handling agent in the person of a beautiful girl called Sahar (spelling? Means sunrise I seem to remember): the contrast between this elegant creature and the taxi in which she arrived was, I suppose, a true reflection of Egypt.

We left Alexandria for Bari in Italy, with a slightly reduced fuel load because of the leaks. After the charges we had had to pay in cash and my inexperience of operating in areas without credit cards, we were very short of that commodity by the time we left Africa. The flight took us over Crete, which was particularly clear and beautiful. The cash crisis worsened when we found that Bari would only take cash for fuel: I had to raid all the cash machines with my various cards to find enough! Next stop was Cannes, where we at last arrived at an efficient airport which took credit cards: a 25 minute turn round and out just before dark for Fairoaks. The aircraft remained there for a couple of weeks while the fuel tanks in the left wing were changed and the propellers reset so that the reverse thrust worked.

After the running repairs, I flew WS to the US alone: rather selfish, but I wanted to do a solo transatlantic crossing. I positioned the aircraft to Shobdon for the weekend. Son Oliver had started at Shrewsbury that term and was coming out every weekend. I took him out for Sunday and then left Shobdon just before dark for Glasgow and Rekjavik where I arrived on a calm night about midnight (with a pressure of 956mb). The General Aviation Terminal there is very convenient for the airport hotel, being about 25 yards walk. No-one was about at that time of day and so I went to bed. The Customs man appeared the next morning, saying he had come to visit the aircraft, but finding it locked up and dark, waited to see me in the morning - very relaxed!

The following day was stormy, with winds gusting about force 9, but mild. I set off at a reasonable hour for Sondrestrom in Greenland and had a good passage, arriving there on a clear day for a quick turnround for Frobisher Bay. This was a more northerly route than usual which had the effect of missing the strong headwinds further south along the St Lawrence River. The approach into Sondrestrom is over the icecap, which inland rises to about 10000 ft (exact height unknown): it was fascinating to see the low cloud slowly becoming smoother until I realised I was looking at snow fields. The route drops down to the Fjord along a wide valley, with the approach over the water (still open at that time of year). The airport has a big runway available for diverting airliners on the Atlantic routes. Like other Greenland settlements, it must seem very quiet and remote for much of the time.

Flying on to Frobisher Bay (Iqualuit on Baffin Island) passes over the beginning of the pack ice and wild uninhabited islands. The approach into the airport was over the inlet, again still open, on a blue afternoon with bright sun. On leaving the aircraft, the reality set in: -10C and a brisk wind, cutting right through my rather inadequate European Autumn clothing. The airport was fairly active, playing an important part in serving the remote settlements of the area. A short stop there to refuel and then on down Canada to La Grande Riviere, a large runway and small airport near the coast of Hudson's Bay.

When I chose it, I assumed that with and airport of that size, there would be a reasonable size town nearby: a false assumption! I arrived there late in the afternoon and took a 30 minute taxi-ride through seemingly endless Christmas Trees to the local town, which consisted of a couple of small hotels, a few shops and houses. It exists to serve the extensive hydroelectric power installations in the area, and for some hunting in the summer. A night stop in a Scandinavian style hotel was followed by an early start south for Saulte Ste Marie, Canadian side.

Saulte Ste Marie is on the US border NW of Detroit and in an area of lakes, on the junction between Lakes Huron and Superior. I then hopped over to the US side of the border to Chippawa county airport. There I went through the rather lengthy process of formally importing the aircraft into the US, whiling the time away having an American lunch etc. Customs finally satisfied on the Sturgeon Bay on Lake Michigan to meet up with the owner's pilot/instructor who wanted to do a bit of refresher training before launching off with the new owner. I then made the final sector to the final destination of Oshkosh, Wisconsin.

My stay in Oshkosh was a nice break. As luck would have it, the Commander owners association were having their annual convention at the headquarters of the Experimental Aircraft Association and a couple of colleagues from England were there. We had an interesting couple of days of lectures and tours round the museum (one of the best light aviation museums around). A highlight was a flight in a Ford Trimotor from the 1920's during which I had the right hand pilot's seat for a 20 minute ride round the town and lake. We had a memorable evening out at a local micro-brewery with many of the experienced Commander owners, including Ted Rear, and Australian whose aircraft Control Techniques subsequently bought (2003). Oshkosh is an attractively set town on the shores of Lake Winnebago with a number of old (by North American standards) houses of typical clapboard construction.

I left Oshkosh a day before the other English, supposedly flying from a local airport to Chicago. Unfortunately, the flight was cancelled and we were bussed to Green Bay. As a result, I only caught the London flight by about 5 minutes: naturally, my baggage did not. Doug and Dave saw it on the carousel at Heathrow the next day!

Aztec Welshpool-Galveston January 2000.

Welshpool; Wick; Reykjavik; Sondrestrom; Iqualuit; La Grande Rivier; Sault Ste Marie; Detroit; Springfield, Mo; Galveston, Tx.

A cold trip: between taking off from Wick and 150 miles north of the Gulf of Mexico, I saw only sea, ice and snow. This trip was also different as it was an old aircraft and the first unpressurised aircraft I had flown over the Atlantic; it was turbo-charged and so could climb higher than normal. I did this one solo on behalf of Tony Beynon who was at the time operating the airfield at Welshpool.

I had an enforced 2^nd night in Reykjavik due to a dirty fuel injector on one engine; the cheesy fish pie in the Icelandair engineering hangar canteen was particularly good! The sector to Sondrestrom was uneventful. However, soon after leaving Sondrestrom, the fuel fired heater failed, leaving me to sit in -30°C for 2 hours: fortunately I was wearing a quilted suit as I knew it would be cold at Iqualuit, and the aircraft was not very warm at the best of times. I was able to reach round to my suitcase and extract extra socks, gloves, scarf and hat and so survived.

On arrival in Iqualuit, I was able to put the aircraft in a hangar: the repair itself was straight forward, and I was able to do it myself. One foot had become numb with the cold as the boot was too tight: extremely uncomfortable thawing it out from near frostbite. I was so incensed with the charge for putting the aircraft in the hangar for an hour or so, I decided to push on south in the late afternoon, leaving with the ground temperature -32°C, ice fog developing from all the exhausts. I arrived at La Grande Riviere, where I had stayed on the previous crossing 3 years before. This time it was a night arrival, in low, low temperatures. I stayed in the small, warm hotel in the town as before. The following day dawned brilliant sunny and coldish, only -28, fine until the wind got up. I fell in with some local aircraft mechanics over breakfast, who took me out to the airport. They had just finished retrieving one of their 748's which had landed wheels up in the North: repairing an aircraft outside in temperatures of -40 beggars belief! When they had dispatched their HS748 turboprop airliner, they turned to help me get the Aztec started. Three hot air blowers did the job, one on each engine, one on the battery for a while and then in the cabin. When I was ready to leave, the aircraft started and felt inside like a normal English day - great luxury.

I had flight planned to Sault Ste Marie (US), but was diverted to Detroit by Toronto Centre - the US would not accept a UK registered aircraft in that airport, in spite of having got freight agents etc standing by - for some reason the Dept of Agriculture refused, though what they had to do with it I do not know! My arrival at Detroit airport at 1700 on a winter Friday was a bit stressful for me and everyone else. The Customs agent at first was very severe until I told him the story and said that I was fully expecting to have to wait over the weekend. As I had not made any fuss so far, he immediately set to work to get freight agents over late on Friday evening - that's what they are paid for he said, and cleared me that evening; a very helpful man. Stayed locally by the airport and returned there promptly on Saturday morning.

The following day, I set off over a frozen US via Springfield, Mo, to Galveston, Texas. The aircraft was still on its British register: the only comment I had the whole trip was from Houston radar who asked if it had flown the whole way! I spent a couple of nights there awaiting a cheap flight back to the UK, relaxing and walking on the beach - not very different from Blackpool in the winter. I had a meal in a fish restaurant which seemed familiar, and I think it was the same one that Peter Boxer had taken Alice and me to when we visited him in Houston on our honeymoon.

Galveston is on an island on the Gulf coast and has the remains of its old town centre. It was an important port until the 50's when it suffered from bad labour problems when the introduction of container ships started in the same way as Liverpool, and like Liverpool died as a port.

Turbo Commander Phoenix-Southend February 2002. (N67TC)

Scottsdale; Kansas City; Toronto; Goose; Narssarssuaq; Reykjavik; Glasgow; North Weald; Southend.

This was another of Doug Jacob's trips. The aircraft was being bought by 3 people from the London area. I flew out scheduled to Scottsdale: a welcome break from English winter - about 70° in the first week in February. The aircraft was in reasonable condition and I was joined by Mark Persaud, one of the owners and a friend of Doug's for the return trip. As usual, the aircraft was not quite ready on arrival, and Mark had to be back in the UK by a specific time to take his family skiing in his helicopter. This led to a rather pressurised return trip when we were ready.

The flight home was good, with no great surprises, and quite a bit at night, being mid winter. The aircraft seemed to go well. The first sector was to Kansas City, a place having little apparent attraction on a cold snowy night in February. (I had stayed there in 1984 and formed the same view). On to Goose Bay via Toronto International airport in the rain. Night stop in Goose where the temperature was about -20°C. I was the only one of us prepared for the cold - the girl greeting us looked at me and commented I knew what to expect! Put the aircraft in the hangar and my tray of fresh grapefruit in the office to protect it from frost! When we stopped there was always some amusement as the first thing to come out of the baggage bay was my new Sears strimmer, followed by my new chain saw (an end to the strimmer story was being able to buy a new Cylinder and piston by pre-ordering them for collection in OKC another year). Stayed in the nice little hotel in Goose near the airport.

The next day was long, and against to clock changes. We flew to Narssarssuaq, arriving in good weather, and we were struck as ever by the spectacular beauty of the fjord. On to Iceland for fuel and to Glasgow for the night, it being too late to go on to the South East. Saturday morning a short sector to North Weald to meat the rest of the owners. The approach was enlivened by a 10 foot length of deicing boot on the left wing coming unglued.

I spent some time in the ensuing weeks training the owners to fly this aircraft. Perhaps not too successfully as this aircraft was subsequently written off in a heavy landing at Courchevel, France! A pity as it was a good one. This event led to the Florida trip in 2005 however to bring back its replacement.

Turbo Commander Dallas-Welshpool May 2003: (VHPJC, became VPBCT)

Addison; Toronto; Goose; Narssarssuaq; Welshpool.

This aircraft is the last Commander built and was being bought by Control Techniques to replace their exiting Commander 840. It has a lot of improvements over their old one. It was being sold by its Australian owner through an agent in Texas, with English, Australian and Swiss based lawyers involved. The cost of these gentlemen in phone charges alone had to be seen to be believed! The discussions went on until the afternoon before departure from Texas. The US agent produced a contract on one side of a sheet and by the time the lawyers had finished it ad grown to 15 pages.

Ted Rear, the vendor, was an entertaining Australian in the mine drilling machinery business and a very good engineer, but also a good party person. We finally completed the deal while Bob Jones and I were already in Addison (in the Dallas metro area), with Ted. Before leaving, we were taken out to dinner by the agent, a meal distinguished by the price of the wine I was asked to choose - $150 a bottle for a middle range choice!

We set off from Addison for Toronto on 20^th of May into a stormy sky going almost straight into cloud. Bob and I have flown together a lot and so the team worked. Sadly, we remained in cloud all the way to a rainy Toronto International Airport for fuel and lunch and then on to Goose Bay; the weather improving quickly after departure. We arrived at Goose to a clear blue day with the temperature in the upper 70's. There were however piles of what looked like sand leaking water; in fact they were piles of snow still melting! We stayed the night there, having a nice meal outside, and then looked round a bit in the morning before leaving for Narssarssuaq, flying out over fascinating sea ice flow patterns, a real contrast to the warm weather on land. Bob as handling pilot on this sector, was impressed with the arrival in good weather into Narssarssuaq, over high ground into the fjord located runway. We night stopped there for interest, and ate surprisingly well. The other surprise was the ability to use our cell phones there. We walked down to the end of the road by the water, about ¾ mile, the extent of the settlement. As before, I was impressed by the facilities to maintain a small settlement in a inhospitable place. The hotel had a lot of rooms to cater for the occasional airliner in from Copenhagen with summer tourists, and the possibility of a trans Atlantic diversion. The area has hiking and climbing possibility, but not for the faint hearted.

From Narssarssuaq, we decided to fly direct to Welshpool, the aircraft's future home and built on Bob's farm. This is not the most frequently used international route! The winds suggested a rather southerly route over the water, but my nerve failed a bit. As it was at one time, the nearest land was Iceland about 500 miles to the north. In fact this flight was uneventful and reasonably quick, just rather a lot of cloud and grey water, until Eagle Island off Northern Ireland, and then over Belfast and the Isle of Man to Welshpool. As usual, we arrived at Welshpool with no formality, having faxed our intentions to Customs as usual.

The aircraft then disappeared into the workshop for updated radios and navigation equipment. There was also a long list of defects to be fixed. As seems normal, this process took far longer than forecast, the aircraft not being finished until January the following year.

Turbo Commander Welshpool-Peoria October 2004 (VPBLK)

Welshpool; Glasgow; Reykjavik; Sondrestrom; Iqualuit; Sault Ste Marie; Peoria.

I did this flight with Bob Jones again and was a slightly sad one as we were taking the Commander which had served us well for 15 years to the US for sale, having failed to sell it in Europe. Doug Jacob who had been assisting us both with the purchase of the replacement and sale of this one, came with us for the ride.

Bob and I decided to take it fairly easily. Unlike other ferry trips, this was much less stressful as we were flying an aircraft which we had been using regularly for many years and thus had confidence in it not letting us down. We left early on Sunday morning 3 October, cleared out from Glasgow, unusual paperwork required to extract the aircraft from the UK VAT system, and flew to Reykjavik in good weather. We arrived in time for lunch, hired a car and drove out east towards Geysir on a day with a stiff cold easterly wind, but beautifully clear with spectacular mountain generated cloudscapes. The country is ruggedly beautiful and the autumn colours were fascinating. As expected, there was evidence of Iceland's volcanic nature, the hot water at Geysir, the sulphur colours in the rocks and the plumes of steam when flying in of the geothermal power plants. The area outside Reykjavik has many lakes, which looked beautiful in the clear air and mixed blue skies. We saw a glider landing near the road and turned off to find a gliding club, one of only 2 in Iceland. They were hospitable and had a nice clubhouse and hangar, and were just finishing for the winter: everything put away until the spring. Talking to them, it seems probable that there must be some spectacular flying to be done by an adventurous pilot one day.

We made the next day long, heading for the Canada US border, the clocks working in our favour. We routed across Greenland to Sondrestrom for fuel and food, with good views over the icecap. Then on to Iqualuit (Frobisher Bay) again for fuel and food, where I picked up an interesting book about the rigours of the early Arctic explorers. We have it easy! The next sector was long, down Hudson's Bay looking grey and cold, rather west of track to avoid headwinds to Sault Ste Marie, Ontario. We stopped the night there as we had had a long day and to allow time to arrange custom for Bob, who had no US visa. We had a pleasant stay there in a hotel which had the distinction of owning a water tower: they had to buy it when it became disused by the city as the hotel was named after it. Sault Ste Marie is on the river between Lakes Huron and Superior and at this season was still pleasantly wooded with lakes and water in plenty. The trees were just beginning their fall colours.

We delivered our faithful aircraft to Byerly Aviation at Peoria, Ill, for sale the following day. Very sad. Bob left the same afternoon for the UK to fly our other aircraft while I stayed on for a couple of days, before returning in comfort thanks to Doug's cousin who works for BA check in at Chicago! Peoria is an old industrial town, the headquarters of Caterpillar which has helped to protect it from some of the industrial decline of the west. It is set on the Illinois river, with gentle hills on either bank. There are some attractive older streets with typical houses, and the remains of some of the brick town buildings. Bruce Byerly took me to see the site of his new house, in a nice development overlooking the river, with wooded grounds down the hillside. Fascinating to see the construction of the houses of timber frame with whatever cladding takes the owner's fancy, wood, stone, brick etc.

I returned there in January by airline to discuss progress on the aircraft. It was very different then, with snow lying. I went on down to Oklahoma City for our annual simulator training, to another weather change.

Piper Navajo Oklahoma City-Gavle/Sandvik Sweden May 2005 (N41462)

Wiley Post; Peoria; Toronto City; Goose Bay; Narssarssuaq; Reykjavik; Bergen; Gavle.

This flight was organised by Doug Jacob on behalf of a customer for whom Doug had found this aircraft. It was to be a survey aircraft in Sweden. Curiously enough, in its former life it had been owned by Robertson's jams in England, under the registration GOLLY (their trademark was a golly); I had even flown it in England under that number. I made this flight accompanied by one of my other Commander pilots, Les Brodie, who has the distinction of making the last landing ever in a Concorde when they were retired by British Airways in December 2003.

We went out airline to St Louis Missouri (BA via Chicago, upgraded to Club thanks to Les), where we had a meeting with the Emerson Flight Department (Emerson are the owners of Control Techniques) before airline onto Oklahoma City (OKC). We raised the security alarm by arriving at St Louis airport and asking for one way tickets on the next flight.

The trip as is usual with these was planned at short notice: book the airlines on Wednesday (with a forecast completion of the aircraft on the Friday, 2 days later), flew out Sunday, to get to OKC on Monday night very hopefully to fly on Tuesday. Arrived at the hangar Tuesday morning to find the aircraft still in pieces on the hangar floor. In fact we flew it later on the Tuesday. It still had paintwork to be done, with a forecast completion on Friday, only a week later than forecast the previous week! Les and I then went off to waste time for a couple of days. Wednesday we spent in OKC, shopping etc. We knew OKC as the Commander flight simulator centre was there and we had made 5 or 6 annual trips there. It was a new experience to have time to spare to roam around the state. West from there the country is pleasantly rolling, unlike Kansas further north which is very flat. Driving out on the Thursday on I45, which follows much of the old Route 66, to the Route 66 museum and a small museum devoted to the career of an astronaut, Shepherd who came from a small town outside OKC, returning on the smaller roads was as quick and more interesting, straight empty roads through open country.

Returned out to the airport at OKC on Friday afternoon, drove to the aircraft parking area with all our luggage to find the tractor driver had damaged the nose undercarriage leg - just the thing to find a 1530 on a Friday afternoon. In fact one was located in California, which could be dispatched by the Monday, to reach OKC Tuesday. We returned to our accustomed hotel to rethink our plans! It was certainly not worth leaving the US.

Les' wife, Sally, had a cousin in Abilene, Texas and so we decided to drive there for Saturday night. We had a leisurely drive on Saturday down the freeway to the Texas border and then on smaller roads through the rolling Oklahoma and flatter north Texas to Abilene where the first proper hills appeared. Jim and ?? lived south of Abilene on the hills near Buffalo Gap. The high point of the drive down was Les driving (not on the hire car paperwork) being stopped for speeding a running a red light in some small Texan town north of Abilene. However, Les talked his way out of the problem, and the policeman sent us on our way with a hand shake and an admonishment to enjoy Texas.

The land there is fairly barren and dry, but supports cattle and oil. Jim, a broad Texan complete with the hat, has a small construction business and was fully employed in constructing sites for oil drill rigs. With the rise in oil prices over the past couple of years, it had become worth drilling many small wells to tap the remaining Texan and Oklahoman oil reserves. Jim took us to a recently completed site in the middle of the bush - an interesting little visit which one would never normally have done as, say a tourist or business visitor. Both Les and I were struck by the extent of the oil business there. There are still a lot of the old "nodding donkey" type pumps in the fields, but the newer wells have electric pumps, the only evidence of which is the storage tanks in the fields (and the occasional smell of oil: Les thought that Texas either smelt of dead skunk of crude oil!).

The weather, which had been cool in OKC was very pleasant in Abilene, about 75°, and dry (cool by their standards!). We were taken out to dinner on the Saturday night to a Mexican restaurant with Jim's brothers, all of whom lived locally. A nice way to meet more people and see how they pass their time. Living with Jim were his daughter and son. She, aged about 21, was a school in Amarillo. The son was in the process of selling a quarter horse and buying another. He had been successful junior dirt track bike rider, but has taken up a local sport of roping (cattle) using quarter horses.

We decided not to outstay our welcome and left after lunch for Amarillo - not for any good reason, except that, like a mountain, it is there. We headed WNW across the flat Texas panhandle lands (real big sky country) towards Amarillo. To my surprise, a major crop, in addition to corn, is cotton. Vast areas were awaiting planting at this time of year. We passed a line of hills surmounted by the biggest wind generator masts ever seen - everything in Texas is bigger. We night stopped at Snyder, Texas, very much a rural town. We ate surprisingly well at a Chinese restaurant where there was a flat charge to eat as much as you wished. The food was good, the only slight drawback being that it was dry (alcohol free), but better for us! Synder is a typical small Mid West town, very spread out with low buildings, wide streets and a multitude of retail outlets. Being way out in the farming country, there is a heavy preponderance of farm machinery outlets etc.

The following day dawned cool and bright and we set off towards Amarillo, through more oil fields and cotton plains. Arriving at Amarillo there was a surprise - snow on the car roofs! Mid America can experience violent changes in weather at short notice! Amarillo in fact had the most May snow since 1917 that night. We bypassed Amarillo and headed for the local beauty spot - the Red River Canyon. We descended down the canyon to the river, which we had last seen outside OKC; the canyon is quite spectacular (although not in the league of the Grand Canyon), cut through very soft red sandstone, hence the colour of the water. It was a noticeable change descending from snow and slush at the top to a more equitable temperature on the canyon floor. Scenery like that can still look well even in poor, cloudy showery weather. We had a sandwich at the small store at the bottom and headed on our way back towards Oklahoma.

The return drive from Amarillo through the Oklahoma panhandle was again through rolling country which became progressively richer, both agriculturally and economically as we neared OKC. Again, there was much oil activity. This 3 day trip was interesting and filled an otherwise empty period. A feature of these trips, and much of my other flying is that one often sees interesting areas that, in other circumstances, one would never bother to visit. The triangle, OKC - Abilene - Amarillo - OKC is hardly one which and English tourist would normally cover.

These big empty areas of the mid west make one understand the American insular attitudes towards the rest of the outside world, and their need for their own transport.

We finally left OKC on the Tuesday afternoon for Peoria, Ill, where we knew there would be assistance if required, and stayed the night there. Had dinner with Paul Boriaski from Byerly Aviation, who had brokered the sale of Control Techniques 840 the previous autumn. We went to the usual good Italian restaurant. Wednesday we set off fairly early for Toronto City airport where we met a friend of Les's for lunch. The airport is on a small island right in the downtown area: a spectacular approach with tall buildings just off the right wing. Would have been improved by better weather! The next sector was a long one to Goose Bay, about 51 hours. The route runs past Montreal and along the north side of the St Lawrence and then over about 300 miles of wilderness. We flew high (about 13000 ft for a period to keep out of the cloud, but even so fell off the edge of the communication world - told to call Moncton when in range. The heater then failed and so we descended to low level and had an interesting couple of hours low over the wild desolate Labrador country, on a nice clear day, avoiding snow showers. Interesting but very bleak and hard.

Reset the heater on arrival in Goose and modified the carpet to clear the cabin ou