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Who is Driving YOUR Car?

Those of you who are of a “certain age” may well remember the song Car 6-7, the lyrics of which tell the sad story of a taxi driver who has split up from his girlfriend, and is turning down a pick-up from control, as it’s the ex-girlfriend.

That was back in November 1978, and the old-fashioned two-way VHF radios used in taxi cabs have been largely been updated, and to a certain extent have been superseded by smart phones and booking software.

Typical 2-way VHF transceiver as used by mini-cab companies in the 1970s and 1980s

We have all become used to very sophisticated communications systems; Bluetooth earpieces and microphones, Wi-Fi internet connections, cordless phones and smart speakers such as Alexa.

Modern cars are no exceptions. My car has a Bluetooth system that will support two mobile phones; My 2013 motorcycle has the same. 

Very sophisticated.

Well, it was in 2017 when it rolled off the production line in Kvasiny in the Czech Republic.

Kvasiny in the Czech Republic – the home of the Skoda Yeti…

But things are changing fast, and we are now moving into the world of Intelligent Transport Systems (ITS).

ITS is a futuristic totally integrated transport system that uses an infrastructure of sensors, communications links, artificial intelligence and algorithms to monitor and manage traffic flow, safety and incidents. Data collected may also be used to help design safer and more efficient transport systems, which may be optimised for different conditions.

We are already using a very basic kind of ITS; We have CCTV cameras that remotely monitor our motorways and road networks. Automatic Number Plate Recognition (ANPR) cameras that are able to identify and trackthe driving behaviour of a specific vehicle, and monitor entry and exit times of vehicles using private car parking facilities.

ANPR and CCTV cameras…

We have under-road systems that monitor the volume and speed of traffic[1] – (You may have wondered about those geometric grids in each lane of the motorway placed at regular intervals?), speed-monitoring enforcement cameras mounted on overhead gantries, and Variable Message Signs (VMSs) 

All of these systems will look like they came out of the stone age when compared with what’s coming very soon.

Intelligent Transport Systems combine data that comes from a variety of sources. 

One of the sources of dynamic data are vehicles that are actually using the road network.

Cars have recently become a lot smarter. My ancient vehicle (4 years old) is just about capable of talking to my smart phone. 

New vehicles will be able to communicate on many different levels.

Imagine, if you will, a car that is able to independently communicate with other, similarly equipped vehicles.This is the most basic system, referred to as V2V

Cars are already fitted with Autonomous Driver Assistance Systems which include obstacle detection, autonomous emergency braking, lane departure warning systems, and adaptive cruise control. See my previous article entitled Autonomous Vehicle Safety Devices – Do you turn YOURS off? for details.

Maybe the car ahead detects an obstacle, and applies the emergency brakes. This information in instantaneously broadcast to all following vehicles, and this in turn allows them to begin braking – before a human driver is even aware that an emergency exists.

Vehicles may also be designed to interact with the infrastructure (traffic signals, traffic density and speed monitors, road condition sensors etc). This is known as V2I. 

A V2V/V2I equipped vehicle starts to lose traction on a wet road, and begins aquaplaning. A message is sent from the vehicle to other vehicles, and also to the fixed highway infrastructure. The infrastructure may then automatically activate warning signs and reduce speed limits accordingly.

This is not science fiction.  This is Science Fact.

Infrastructure sensors that continually monitor the depth of water on the road surface and the road surface temperature already exist, and are integrated into the ITS. 

The UK’s Vehicle and Operator Services Agency (VOSA) have been operating a sophisticated network of subsurface sensors that are capable of accurately detecting overloaded Heavy Goods Vehicles. This system is known as WIMS, short for Weight In Motion Sensors. This uses induction loops and special sensors to detect the weight being carried by each axle of the truck in question. When combined with ANPR cameras, the system will identify the vehicle, and also be able to calculate whether it is overloaded, and whether it is complying with the speed limit.

Other car communications systems enable the vehicle to exchange data with the wider internet of things, and may also inter-exchange with other transport modes. This is known as Vehicle to Cloud (V2C). This would enable a vehicle to be able to communicate with trains, aircraft ships and exchange other relevant data.

Lastly, cars will also be able to communicate with pedestrians. (V2P). This would allow vehicles to update pedestrians on their status, and speed of approach. Such information could be received by the pedestrian by using a smart phone. 

Cars, trucks, buses, motorcycles, farm vehicles and even bicycles will all become part of a communicating interactive network, and ultimately connected to the global internet of things.

Combine the automated on-board driver assistance systems with the benefits of a smart, thinking and proactive transport network, and road safety may show some dramatic improvements.

Currently in the UK, about 40% all vehicle accidents were as a direct result on a driver “failing to see” the other vehicle. 

In our brave new world, your car probably won’t let you pull out of that junction as its already identified an approaching car, assessed the risk, and calculated that there would be a collision! That’s assuming that both cars are V2V/V2I equipped.

Old duffers like me driving a 2017 model will still have to rely on the Mark I eyeball, and the basic training received nearly 45 years ago.

The old saying that the best safety device in a car was a well-trained driver may no longer be true.

Live Long and Prosper…


[1] MIDAS – Motorway Incident Detection and Auto-Signalling. An Induction loops system that senses a vehicles presence using magnetism.

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Staying Safe – Despite the Weather

I was mentally kicking myself. Just over a month previously, I had traded in my 4×4 SUV, replacing it with a 2WD Skoda Yeti. I had been pleased with the Kia Sportage, but despite my care in driving it, the fuel economy was not as good as I had been led to believe.

My Kia Sportage 2 4WD. Nice to drive, but too thirsty!

It was the 1st March 2018. At 1530, I left my office at Aviation House, heading for home. My route from Gatwick Airport was cross country. I could easily have driven home more quickly up the M23, M25 and A3, but at a cost of an extra eleven miles motoring.

Hardly fuel efficient!

Skoda Yeti… Workhorse, paractical and almost 60 miles to the gallon on DERV,

My normal route was a delight. Out through the village that shares my name, and then through Ifield and Rusper, to join the main A264 just east of Horsham.

I would then cut through the back lanes of Broadbridge Heath, and then head south west through Loxwood, and on through Haselemere and from there via Liphook to home.

Storm Emma decided to put paid to that little plan. The snow began to fall; small pellets that danced and pirouetted slowly through the sky until they smacked wetly on the car windscreen.

By the time I got to Loxwood, I was seriously considering the wisdom of my decision to trade the 4×4 in. It was now hurtling down heavily, a swirling white vortex pouring out of a grey and ominous looking cloud.

Traffic speed was decreasing to almost pedestrian speeds, and I was now having to concentrate hard to anticipate the erratic behaviour of other vehicles.

Haslemere was, by this time, totally gridlocked. The snow was now very deep, and it was almost dark.

Haslemere, in Surrey and traffic at a standstill.

I looked at my watch. 1830! I would normally have been home by 1700.

I was beginning to get worried. There were several routes that I could take to get out of Haslemere, but all required me to drive up steep hills, and looking at the developing chaos I had little confidence that I would make it up any of them.

Cars were slaloming down the slightest of inclines, and I witnessed many crashes, and the roadsides were now becoming strewn with crumpled cars,

At 2030, I had managed to travel about 2 miles, so I ended up making the decision to abort my journey, and park up and weather the storm. I knew the decision was correct when I witnessed a Police 4×4 pick-up truck struggling to climb the slight incline. Despite the four wheel drive, its wheels were still slipping.

Surrey Police Ford Ranger 4 x 4 pick up…

I now didn’t feel quite so bad. If a well-equipped emergency services 4×4 couldn’t make it out of the town, then even in my previous 4×4, I wouldn’t have either.

I found a grass verge sufficiently away from the kerb, and drove up and parked, backing up in such a way that a mature tree would offer some protection should someone lose control of their vehicle and depart the carriage way.

I gingerly opened the door into the maelstrom, and crunched my way to the tailgate. Opening it, I dragged out my thick government issue wet weather high viz jacket, and opened my car winter crate.

I decided when I first began commuting long distances across empty countryside to prepare for all eventualities, and so I had previously invested in a large plastic crate, into which I packed my emergency kit. Next to the crate were half a dozen blankets of the type that removal companies use to protect furniture.

A fold-up shovel, a set of jump leads, a pair of work gloves, half a dozen bottles of water, a pair of wellingtons, a torch, and some dried food in the form of energy bars, packs of nuts and chocolate.

Yes…. Lots of chocolate. You can never have too much chocolate in an emergency box.

I selected a handful of bars of chocolate, and a couple of bottles of water. Slamming the tailgate shut, I got back into the drivers seat, and started the engine.

I dialled up maximum heat from the climate control, and switched on the electrically heated seats. Reclining the seat back as far as it would go, I snugged up under the blankets and dozed off.

Haslemere snowed in. Photo Courtesy Ian Underwood.

The temperature outside continued to drop. and I eventually had to start the car every fifteen minutes and run the engine for a while to stay warm.

I slept very fitfully and was wide awake by 0530.

The storm had passed through, and I decided that I would attempt to get home.

I knew that as long as I could get the car moving and maintain a constant speed, I could probably get up the hill, from where I could make my way to the A3, which, I hoped would be open. I knew that once other cars started moving, my chances of a successful escape from Haslemere would revert back to zero.

Even genteel Haslemere loses it’s appeal to a cold and hungry driver.

Starting the car, I eased it into gear, and slowly, ever so slowly accelerated up to about twenty miles per hour. Every so often the wheels would spin, but the plucky little car continued up the hill which I crested without seeing another vehicle on the road.

I did see quite a lot in ditches though, inclding a single decker bus and a police car.

The A3 was closed northbound, but – joy of joys, it was still clear southbound.

Half an hour later I was at home. The first thing I did after having a hot shower and a cup of tea was to start researching for winter tyres.

I have to admit – I had never really considered using winter tyres. I had always thought that they were a hyped up fashion in the UK, as we don’t expereience the extremes of weather that are enjoyed by our continental neighbours.

If you are fortunate enough to live in the United Kingdom, then according to figures I dug out of the Meteorology Office, we only get to “enjoy” snow for 23.7 days per year, and it only lays around for an average of 15.6 days each year.

Winter Tyres – on a Steel Rim. Great for country lanes, potholes and freezing conditions. Image courtesy of FreeImages.co.uk

On this basis, I was started wondering if it would be worth it.

It seems that during the winter in the south east of England (The counties of Kent, Sussex, Surrey Buckinghamshire, Berkshire, Hampshire, Dorset and Wiltshire, and London) the winter temperatures sit at around 3℃ in London, down to -0.5℃ on the coast.

There is little difference between snow tyres and winter tyres. Winter tyres are optimised to perform at their best during all types of winter weather, including rain, sleet, snow, and slippery surfaces. Snow tyres may well have studs moulded into the tread to enable better grip in very hostile weather conditions.

Winter tyres are designed to offer their best performance when outside air temperatures are less than 7℃ (45℉) and have a tread design that includes deeper grooves or “sipes”

This makes them ideally suited for a typical British winter. Take November 2019, for example. According to Met Office figures, the average temperature this time last year was 5.3ºC – prime conditions for winter tyres.

Firstly, how can you recognise a winter tyre?

Winter tyres carry a mark on the sidewall which consists of three mountains with a snowflake. This “Three Peak Mountain Snowflake” symbol indicates that the tyre has undergone and passed a specific winter traction performance test.

My somewhat salty, muddy, winter tyre, clearly showing the winter tyre mark Photo Mark Charlwood

In order to perform well under the low temperature, wet and slippery conditions, winter tyres are constructed from carefully blended rubber compounds that are hydrophilic in nature.

These compounds contain more natural rubber, which stays softer at lower temperatures, and helps the tyre to become more “grippy” in wet conditions.

Winter tyres are also narrower than standard tyres; the width of the tread is narrower for the wheel diameter. This reduces the resistance of the tyre as it is driving through snow.

The tyre will also have a deep groove pattern, with many additional smaller grooves known as Sipes that are designed to cut through snow, and improve traction.

Deep grooved tread pattern, clearly showing the sipes and the extra blocks for exerting grip. Photo Mark Charlwood

Tests conducted by the British Tyre Manufacturers Association found that a car braking at 60mph on a wet road at 5 degrees Celsius stopped five metres shorter, equivalent to more than one car length, when fitted with winter weather tyres.

I could see the immediate and obvious benefits of fitting winter tyres.

I started by ringing round the local tyre dealers, to get costs. Most of the dealers were able to supply, at reasonable prices.

What I hadn’t bargained for was the extra costs involved. My normal “Summer” tyres were not worn out. I would need the tyres removed from my rims, and the winter tyres put on. Then, when I needed to change back to the summer tyres, I would need the dealer to remove the winter tyres, and refit them.

As they wouldn’t be fitting a new tyre, they would charge £20.00 +VAT per wheel to switch them. £80, twice a year! And I would have to store the tyres as well.

It was beginning to look costly.

Then I had a brainwave.

What if I bought some steel wheels and had the winter tyres fitted to them?

It would mean my nice Alloys wouldn’t be subjected to the rough conditions (salt, mud, and the risks of hitting potholes, or the verges) and I could change the wheels myself without incurring costs.

Solution found.

Now I hit a potential problem that had me scratching my head.

My car was originally fitted with 17 inch rims. All of the winter tyres quoted for my model of car were 16 inch rims, and a lot narrower.

Whilst Skoda Yetis may be bought new with 16 inch wheels, I was worried that the smaller size would mean the the tyre pressure monitoring system, stability control and anti skid systems would be compromised if I put smaller narrower tyres on.

A quick conversation with the service manager at the local Skoda dealer and I was happy. He explained that whilst the wheel rim was of a smaller diameter, the extra height of the tyre sidewall would ensure the onboard systems wouldn’t have any problems.

I eventually sourced a company on eBay that supplied me with four Continental winter tyres, ready-fitted onto steel rims. They arrived direct from Germany, and it took me about an hour to remove and refit all four wheels.

My experience is good. There is a definite improvement in the handling of the car during braking and cornering in slippery and wet conditions.

Some folk complain of the tyres being noisier than summer tyres, but I haven’t noticed this. The only thing that I do notice, is that the speedometer over reads by about 10% now compared with the GPS (An indicated 77 mph equates to 70 mph GPS true speed) and as a result, my sat nav system calculates my drive to work as 44 miles, but the car trip recorder shows 47 miles.

Not too much of an issue, but I have to remember to deduct 10% of the fuel computer’s range-to-empty figures!

It must be remembered that winter tyres should really only be fitted in about October, and removed in March. Winter tyre rubber compounds do not work well at average spring and summer temperatures, and in many cases, braking will be considerably poorer than those achieved using the original tyres.

Yes, they cost me about £500 to buy, but I am only wearing both sets of tyres out at half the rate, so it was a good investment.

I regard it as an extra piece of insurance.

Stay Safe!

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Greening Aviation – Not as Simple as it Sounds

According to recent research conducted by the University of Reading in the UK, many tonnes of fuel could be saved by airlines, (and therefore many tonnes of greenhouse gases) if they planned to always fly in favourable winds whilst crossing the Atlantic.

The study found that commercial flights between New York and London last winter could have used up to 16% less fuel if they had made better use of the fast-moving winds at altitude.

New satellites will soon allow transatlantic flights to be tracked more accurately while remaining a safe distance apart. This opportunity could allow aircraft to be more flexible in their flight paths, in order to more accurately follow favourable tailwinds and avoid headwinds, offering the aviation sector a cheaper and more immediate way of cutting emissions than through advances in technology.

The report stated: “Current transatlantic flight paths mean aircraft are burning more fuel and emitting more carbon dioxide than they need to”.

“Although winds are taken into account to some degree when planning routes, considerations such as reducing the total cost of operating the flight are currently given a higher priority than minimising the fuel burn and pollution.”

Boeing 747-400 pulling Contrails at high altitude. This fabulous photo was taken by Sergey Kustov

This needs to be put into context.

Way back in time, I used to create flight plans professionally. This was done by hand and was sometimes quite time consuming, and required careful study of aeronautical charts, upper air weather, including icing levels, and any forecast areas of turbulence.

A Transatlantic Chart showing the Entry and exit waypoints for the North Atlantic Track System

The charts would also be checked to see the locations of forecast Jetstream activity.

A quick explanation here about Jetstreams.  Jetstreams are caused by two factors. Firstly, solar heating, which causes massive air movements, combined with the effects of the earth’s rotation (The Coriolis Effect).

Image courtesy of NASA

At lower levels, these air movements are known as Trade Winds, and two hundred years ago, clipper sailing ships used them very effectively to transport goods relatively quickly around the globe, hence the name.

Most weather phenomena is generated in the troposphere, which extends from the surface up to high altitude (30’000 feet at the poles, and 56,000 feet at the equator), and it is at these upper levels that we find the jetstreams.

Jetstreams are defined as winds with a minimum speed of more than 70 knots (80 mph), and often they may exceed 220 knots (250 mph) and so it makes economic sense to make use of them.

This has been recognised by the aviation airspace regulators, and specific routings that take advantage of the jetstreams have been in place for many years.

Typical Jetstream activity over Euope.

Each night, weather data for trans-oceanic flights is analysed, and tracks are optimised to use the flows sensibly.

Flights crossing the Atlantic use a system known as NATS (North Atlantic Track System). In simple terms, a number of tracks are generated for both easterly and westerly traffic that will enable aircraft to benefit from a tailwind, or at least a reduced headwind.

These tracks will move north and south over the Atlantic according to the weather and the predicted positions of jetstreams; sometimes tracks will start to the north of Scotland, and terminate in the far north east of Canada.

On other occasions tracks will run to the south of the UK, and cross the southern part of the north Atlantic joining the continental air route systems as far south as the Canadian/US Border.

Typical NAT Tracks. Westerly tracks, showing available flight levels for each alphabetically-identified track.

So, flights across the Atlantic already have some basic fuel saving principles built in advance. The same system operates for flight crossing the Pacific Ocean, known as PACOT tracks.  They run between the western seaboard of the USA and Japan and Asian destinations.

However, times move on, and grey-haired aviation expertise has been replaced in almost every arena with technology.

Modern computer-based flight planning systems are extremely sophisticated, and use some advanced algorithms to plan with even better accuracy.

Consider this.

Every nation has the right to charge a fee to every aircraft that uses its airspace. Airspace charges may be based on the time that the flight remains within that state’s territory.

So, modern flight planning systems will look at every aspect of the flight. It will perform calculations that compare fuel burn with overflight charges.

Sometimes, whilst flying in a Jetstream will burn less fuel, it may mean that the flight will pass through airspace with relatively expensive overflight charges. If the overflight charges amount to more than the cost of fuel, then the system will plan to use the cheaper route, and therefore save money overall.

Airlines also use a system known as Cost Index to further optimise the flight costs.

This is basically a system that compares the direct operating costs of the flight, with the cost of the fuel being used. If the direct operating costs (crew wages, navigation charges, cost of galleys and airframe hours – affecting the amount of maintenance required) are more than the cost of fuel, the system will plan to fly faster, burning more fuel in order to get on the ground faster. Conversely, if the fuel is more expensive than the direct operating costs it makes sense to fly slower, burning less fuel.

Airlines are extremely cost conscious, and low-cost carriers will do everything they can to reduce and eliminate costs wherever possible. For example, Ryanair removed paper safety cards as they wear out and need replacing. Now, their safety information is riveted to each seatback.

Ryanair Boeing 737 – and Safety Cards riveted to the seatbacks!

Some carriers do not serve peanuts, as if they drop into the seat mounting rails, they take time to remove, and time is money.

So, persuading airlines to always optimise their routes and use high speed Jetstreams to the fullest extent may take some time.

Stay Safe…

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The Happy Commuter

Not many people can say that they enjoy their daily commute with any degree of truth.

I am an exception to this rule.

Yesterday morning, I softly shut the front door, and swiftly double locked it. As I walked briskly to the car, I noticed that it was cloaked with water droplets from the previous night’s heavy rain, and they shimmered in the alabaster cold moonlight, ruffled gently by the almost imperceptible breeze.

I looked up the field, and could just about make out the old farmhouse through the light mist. The sky overhead was as black as tarmac, and the stars glittered like shards of broken glass.

I smiled to myself.

It was 0445, and I was about to drive from rural Hampshire to Heathrow Airport for my early shift.

The car was chilled as I started it up, and I decided to be very self-indulgent, and switch on the heated seats, as it was only 0.5°C. By the time I reached the tiny hamlet of Bramshott, the warmth was permeating my back nicely.

The back lanes had treated me like royalty this morning. First, an unscheduled stop to enable a family of Muntjac deer to slowly amble from one side of the road, to the nature reserve on the other.

A Muntjac deer, Shy and beautiful. Photo courtesy J J Harrison

A few minutes later, I found myself driving parallel with a barn owl, sweeping effortlessly along the field to my right.

Photo courtesy Peter K Buriam. Barn Owl in flight.

Fantastic!

Accelerating up the slip road to join the A3, a quick glance in the mirror showed that there was no evidence of other vehicles heading north – not even a headlight beam.

Once the car was comfortably at the legal limit, I engaged the cruise control, tuned in my favourite radio station (Greatest Hits Radio) and took a sip of coffee.

Oh, the joy of fast cruising on an empty highway. No vehicles, and just the occasional truck heading south to Portsmouth to dip my headlights for.

The tarmac was damp, but not slippery, and I managed to get all the way to Guildford, some 17 miles before I spotted another vehicle heading north.

By Ripley, his headlights were just bright dots in the mirror.

The M25 was equally quiet, relatively speaking. Busy with articulated lorries, many bound for the airport, and some diving off down the M3 to head to the docks at Southampton.

In some respects, this was a bit eerie. In the past, even at this early hour, the western segment of the M25 would be busy with cars; airport workers and passengers, all heading for the terminals.

Lockdown was having a huge effect. The airport was just about surviving, but with so few movements, staff were either on furlough, or redundant. On the upside, air pollution was significantly reduced, and my journey time was reduced by twenty minutes.

Once off the motorway, my drive takes me through Staines, Ashford, and Bedfont, all of which are pretty deserted.

At this time of day, the lunatics and muppets are not about – still asleep I guess. Most of those that I encounter are driving safely, at the limit, and are courteous and helpful.

This doesn’t happen at 0445 on the A3… All the loons are in bed.

I pass through the security checkpoint at work very quickly.

Well, to be fair, I am the only vehicle in the queue.

My shift start time is conveniently placed between the end of one shift and the beginning of another, so there is rarely a wait before driving through the massive security gates, and onwards to the staff car park.

Early shifts are a pleasure. Definitely the best time of the day.

According to my mother, I have been an early riser since I was an infant.

I went through a phase as a grumpy teenager when I would sleep in until lunchtime, but that was more as a result of imbibing vast quantities of alcohol with my friends, until late in the evening every Friday.

I would get home, and crash out, on many occasions still fully dressed, not to be seen again until the sun was very much over the yard arm.

Despite the amount of beer taken on board, I was lucky to have never had a hangover either!

Leaving my teenage years behind, I became an early riser once more.

Working in the aviation industry, for a major airline I was a shift worker, and enjoyed a variety of start times, varying from 0500 to 2200 starts, and other shift starts between these two extremes.

0500 starts have always been my favourite though.

Summer “early-earlies” would see me quietly leaving the house, walking down the garden path in the pre-dawn glow of a brand-new day.

At the time, I was living in West London, about 5 miles from the centre of London Heathrow Airport, so it was a short drive to the staff car park.

In Spring, I would revel in the cool stillness of the morning. The sun would be shyly peeking over the gardens to the east, gilding the slate roofs of Bedfont with a golden glow, doing far more for the houses than a complete renovation would achieve.

Summer would offer somnolent dawns, warm, dappled and filled with birdsong and I would drive the deserted roads around the perimeter of the airport, usually not seeing another vehicle until I was within the airport restricted area.

Standing at the staff car park bus stop, it always surprised me that so many of us early shifters looked so tired, disengaged and sleepy.

I was, and still am, one of those awful people that are immediately ready for the day ahead as soon as their eyes are open.

Poor SWMBO, with whom I have shared my life for over 30 years, is a night owl, and doesn’t function correctly until the correct number of coffees have been emptied into her!

So, I would bask in the sunshine, waiting for the bus, whilst the others round me were slumped against the glass walls of the shelter.

The buses back then were a climate activist’s nightmare. Operated by the British Airports Authority, they were probably ten years old and to be frank, were knackered. Originally painted in bright traffic yellow, they were battered and grimy, both inside and out.

They rattled, creaked and generated more diesel smoke than an ocean liner, and would grind their way round the airport perimeter road, making only one stop at the staff bus stop in the central area.

I would then enjoy a brisk walk to Terminal 3 check in for work.

Autumn 0500s were enjoyable too, but in a more melancholy way. I would still leave the house at 0430, but now the sun was reluctant to welcome the day, and I would walk through the crispy leaves to the car in the half light, now needing to wear my light bomber jacket, thoughtfully provided by American Airlines.

As the seasons marched on, I would have to leave the house at 0420, to give me sufficient time clear the ice or snow from the windscreen.

Whilst I used a de-icing spray in the hardest weather, I often had to scrape the ice from the car, and the sounds would be amplified throughout the quiet residential street, reverberating and bouncing off the houses, and shattering the stillness.

I used to feel guilty about this, until I realised that most of my neighbours were shift workers as well, and we all took it in our stride.

I stopped working at the airport in 1997. I had been lucky enough whilst working with American Airlines to see many aspects of airline operations, Passenger Services, Passenger Security, Special Services, and Flight Operations.

I had sat in a deserted ops room, watching the flights departing the US, and plotted their arrival times, and planned the parking stands for the day.

I had sat with my heart in my mouth in the early hours of July 18th 1996, after hearing reports that an American aircraft had crashed into the Atlantic off the coast near New York.

It turned out to be TWA flight 800, and not one of “my” flights, but still a tragic loss of 230 human beings.

I had searched aircraft, operated security equipment, and interviewed suspect passengers.

I had escorted celebrities and VIP as they transited both Heathrow and Stansted airports.

Flight operations was my element though. It was what I was trained for, what I enjoyed, and what I understood.

However, promotion in the Flight Operations sector normally requires the transfer to a job that is no longer practical and hands on, but is more of a specialist desk job.

So, after many years with the mighty American Airlines, I started work with British Airways, working out of the fantastic Compass Centre.

The design of Compass Centre makes use of curved glass external walls on the south side, which overlooks the airfield. Curved glass walls were chosen as glass does not present a large radar signature, and the curved walls reflect radar energy onto the ground.

This reduces the building’s radar reflection on the ground movements radar used at the airport. The building is also thermally efficient, and summer afternoons caused the air conditioning to run at full power, despite the floor to ceiling blinds.

I was very privileged, as my department occupied the middle floor of the eastern-most block, and overlooked the runway. My desk was three feet from the glass windows, so my viewpoint was superb.

Compass Centre, My office was the middle floor of the module nearest the camera.

My job was now a standard day job, with working hours of 0800-1600. I now had to drive on roads that were filled with other commuters, some of whom appeared to have forgotten the most basic driving skills.

Luckily, this didn’t last too long, and I soon transferred to the Flight Training School, where I began working as a Flight Crew Instructor. Not only was the job hugely enjoyable, but luckily, I was back on a shift roster.

My office… I could never be an accountant!

Most of the instructors weren’t keen on early starts, so I happily swapped out their earlies, and off-loaded my late shifts. Every day was an 0630 arrival, so I was normally out of the doors at 1430, and was able to use the rest of the day for my pleasure when the rest of the world were slaving away in their offices.

I am now getting towards my personal Top of Descent, and I am thinking more and more about retirement.

If you ask people what they like most about their retirement, the most common response is “Not having to do the daily commute”.

I think that I will miss my enforced dawn patrols, when the day is new, and you can smell the freshness of the dawn.

What about you?

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APPRENTICE biographic accounts Driving education English History Motoring Society Travel Vehicle Safety Vehicles

Was it That Long Ago?

Exactly 44 years ago today, I passed my driving test.

I was seventeen, and was being taught to drive by my Father. This was for two reasons. Firstly, in order to wean me off motorcycles, he offered to do it for free, and secondly, I had bought a car in which to learn. 

My first car was a twelve-year-old Morris 1100 saloon. It was, in many respects, a great car to learn to drive in.

Not my car – but the same model and colour

It was a simple machine, with no clever safety systems – apart from old fashioned lift latch buckle seat belts.

It didn’t even have any real “comfort” systems if you exclude the two-speed fan assisted heater.

Its front wheel drive made it easy to drive round the country lanes of Sussex where I grew up. 

The Morris 1100 was quite revolutionary when it rolled off the production line in 1965. It used the new space-saving BMC-designed Hydrolastic suspension system. 

To put it simply, this system replaced the springs and shock absorbers used in conventional cars with rubber bladders known as displacer units at each wheel.

The front and rear bladders on each side of the car were connected together with pipes and valves. When the front wheel encountered a bump in the road, it would force fluid from the front bladder to the rear bladder, which minimised the pitching of the car over bumpy roads.

It also had a brilliant side effect for a learner. It made hill starts really simple.

On a hill, with the parking brake applied, all one had to do was engage first gear, cover the brake pedal, and let the clutch up slowly. The vehicle would then gently rise up on the rear suspension. As soon as this happened, the handbrake could be removed without the car rolling backwards.

I must say it helped me considerably!

So, back to the point. 

I had applied for my provisional driving licence and got it back in time for my 17th birthday. I had to buy my very first driving insurance policy out of my meagre apprentice pay, so it was a third party only policy. 

The good old paper driving licence, showing provisional driving entitlements. Not mine though!

I guess this was a bit of a calculated risk. I assumed that it was a little unlikely to spontaneously combust, and any self-respecting car thief would be horrified to steal such a shabby looking car – especially one that had a slightly Miss Marple image.

For my first lesson, it was decided that we would leave the house very early to avoid traffic as much as possible. We agreed that we would use quiet country roads to start with and then progress to busier streets and towns. 

I jumped in the passenger seat, and we drove sedately to the south west edge of the town, heading for the village of Turners Hill. 

Dad pulled over onto a layby at the right, and we swapped seats. 

After 44 years, the lay-by is still the same…

Crunching the gears, I kangarooed off on the start of my driving adventures – and all without the aid of dual controls!

An hour of driving up to the village, turning around, and driving back to the layby resulted in me being able to change up and down the gearbox, and smoothly pull away.

So, it continued. Practicing reversing into a parking bay on the Imberhorne industrial estate, reversing around a corner, and three-point turns. Hill starts without the car rolling backwards and crushing the matchbox that my father had placed behind the rear wheel.

Eventually, after a few months, Dad pronounced me ready for test, and so I applied. Crawley was the closest test centre, so in preparation I regularly drove the family over to Crawley for Saturday shopping, and was reasonably familiar with the place.

I eventually got my test date, which was the 2nd of February 1977. This was a Wednesday, and Dad couldn’t get leave to get me to the test centre.

Luckily, one of my Air Cadet friends who had passed his test the previous summer offered to take me.

My test was as simple as my car.

Upon arrival, I reported to the receptionist, and she asked me to take a seat. In due course, I met my examiner; he looked a little like Sherlock Holmes, complete with a deerstalker hat.

Having checked my provisional driving licence and my insurance documents, he asked me to read a nearby car number plate, which I did with ease. Not sure I could do it today without my varifocals!

Without further conversation, we got into my car, and I drove around Crawley, following his directions. 

The emergency stop was for real, rather than him banging on the dashboard in accordance with his briefing.  I was “making good progress” and driving at just under the posted 30 MPH limit, when a car suddenly pulled out of a side junction.

I slammed the brakes on, and the car rapidly came to a stop, without me locking any of the wheels up and skidding on the cold damp tarmac.

The deceleration forces were impressive. His clipboard shot into the footwell, and he pitched forwards. “Oh god” I thought, please don’t let the examiner break his nose on my car”

Luckily, he didn’t. Leaning back into his seat, he turned and smiled at me. “That was very good. I shan’t be asking you to do a further emergency stop.”

Having completed all the required test items, we drove back to the test centre, and he fished a folder out of his battered briefcase.

Flipping through the folder, he randomly selected road signs and marking and asked me what they represented.

I obviously answered correctly, as he ponderously got out of the car and trudged back to the warmth of the test centre.

He gravely started filling out a document. Was it a failure or pass certificate? 

“Well done Mr. Charlwood. You have passed. Congratulations!”

So – I was one of the 40% of test applicants that passed their test first time!

I thanked him, and went to see Andy who was waiting patiently. “Well?” he enquired. “Am I driving back, or are you?”

“I am” I said proudly. We went to the car park, and ceremoniously ripped the L plates from my car, and I nonchalantly tossed them onto the back seat for disposal later.

We then drove to Brighton and back on the busy A23. 

Just because we could!

However, things are very different now. 

The driving test has metamorphosed into something much more complex. Hill starts and reversing round corners have been removed from the test, and navigating whilst driving using a GPS Satellite Navigation system has been included. 

The almost casual theory questions used by my examiner in his ring binder are gone – replaced by a formal theory test, which is computer based. 

The theory test also includes a hazard perception test, using 14 short video clips to establish whether the candidate has good recognition of developing hazards and risk assessment skills.

Bizarrely, (in my opinion) candidates may use vehicles that have hill start assistance systems.

In my world of professional aviation, skills tests are conducted using the equipment fitted to the aircraft, but candidates still have to demonstrate navigating or performing the required manoeuvres with the enhanced systems shut down, thus demonstrating that they can control their aircraft in all situations.

Having said that, my car is fitted with a hill start assist system and there is no means of disconnecting it. I guess thats the same in most current cars. Unless you know better?

I must add, somewhat smugly, that it never activates, because I was taught how to do a hill start using blended clutch and brake control.

The driving syllabus and the test upon which it is based unfortunately lags considerably behind the rapid development of Autonomous Driver Assistance Systems (ADAS).

To illustrate this, new drivers are not currently required to be taught the use of cruise control, or to recognise its limitations, and how to use it safely.

So, where do YOU place your feet when the cruise control is active and engaged?

I keep my foot over the accelerator. Some people I have driven with place both feet onto the floor.

I find this a little startling. 

Simple risk assessment shows that it is possible to lose spatial awareness of where the pedals are in relation to the drivers’ feet. In an emergency, do you really, instinctively, know where the brake pedal is?

New vehicles are loaded with ADAS, and whilst many younger drivers may not be able to afford new cars, they should still be aware of the types of systems available. New drivers may be renting cars to which these devices are fitted, or be given a company car which has many safety systems fitted as standard.

Statistics show clearly that the highest risk groups for accidents are very young drivers (17-21), and the elderly (80+) both of whom may not have sufficiently developed judgement to ensure their safety. 

Both groups are unlikely to be driving the latest cars which have the additional safety systems.

So maybe those that need a good understanding of ADAS and would benefit from the additional safety, are the drivers most unlikely to have a car fitted with it.

At some point the driving syllabus and the test will address these issues.

Until that time, all I can say is…

Drive defensively and learn as much as you can about the systems that YOUR car is fitted with.

Go well, and be safe!

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Boeing 747-400 Preflight

Aviation is fixated, quite correctly, on in-flight safety. From the humblest sailplane or microlight to the mightiest 747, safety procedures have to be completed, to ensure that aircraft don’t drop out of the skies like confetti.

Before any aircraft takes flight, it’s crew must conduct a thorough inspection to make sure that it is in a fit state to fly. Cabin attendants will check every door and overhead locker, and ensure that all of their required safety equipment is in place. 

Their pilot colleagues will also be checking all flight systems thoroughly. There are two elements to this – the internal cockpit checks, and what is known in the trade, as the “walk-around” or the exterior preflight inspection.

Each item to be inspected is laid out in the Flight Crew Operating Manual, or FCOM, and follows a carefully planned and logical sequence so that no item is left unchecked.

As an instructor, strict adherence to procedures is part of my everyday working life.

Here is my lighthearted look at the external walk-around procedure for the Boeing B747-400.

I think it’s a little better than writing about the procedure I follow on my own, much smaller aeroplane.

Jumbo Pre-flight

Whilst our Jumbo’s on the ground,
Before each flight, we must walk round,
And carefully check so many things,
Are engines fixed, likewise the wings,
Are panels shut, are windows clean,
Do nav lights work, do lenses gleam,
And as a safety-conscious fellow,
Be sure to wear your vest of yellow,
To help you check before night flight,
Be sure to use your bright flashlight,
Do just what the FCOM says,
Check the tyres, and gear door bays,
Check the cowls, and drain mast pipes,
Inspect the engine pylon stripes,
Look at the fin, and check the slats,
The lightning wicks, and Fowler flaps,
For safety’s sake – what could be worse?
Than looking forwards whilst in reverse!
Check the brakes and steering too,
The vacuum outlet for the loo,
The outflow valve, the pitot head,
Oh boy – you should have stayed in bed,
Cos whilst you check in pouring rain,
The captains in the warm – AGAIN!

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A DEAD DONKEY AT 200 FEET – A MAY DAY SPECIAL

I met up with my friend Greg in the Cafe in the flying club. It was 0830 on a slightly overcast summer morning.

Sitting down with mugs of tea, and an egg and bacon sandwich each, we reviewed my proposed route. 

We would be flying from my home base of Redhill Aerodrome in Surrey (about 4.0 nautical miles NNE of London’s Gatwick Airport (EGKK), and about 20nm SE of Heathrow Airport EGLL) to Newquay Airport (EGHQ) to meet up with Neil, a fellow pilot and an Air Traffic Control Officer.

Dodging the Class A airspace between Gatwick and Heathrow

We finished our breakfast and pulled out the charts and the NOTAMs (Notices to Airmen) and a meteorological forecast. There was nothing in the NOTAMs to affect our flight, but a check of the Met showed scattered rain showers along our route, blowing in from the south west.

Knowing that Greg had far more hours than me, I asked his opinion, and he remarked that he would go, and see what it was like enroute, and if it looked to be deteriorating, then we could return – adding that as I was the aircraft commander (and the owner!) it was my decision.

I decided that we would go, making the Surrey city of Guildford my Go/No-Go waypoint. If it was poor weather by the time I got to Guildford, some twenty miles west of the field, I would make turn back.

We wandered out to Betty Boo, and did a quick yet thorough pre-flight inspection. 

Betty Boo in her home environment

I swiftly started the engine, called the tower for a radio check and traffic information, and was given permission to taxi for runway 26 Right. the shorter of the two grass runways. 

Copyright AFE Flight Equipment – Not to be used for Flight Planning or Navigation.

It was a quick taxy. There was nothing to hold us up – a midweek morning, and all the school aircraft were already either thrashing round the circuit, or had disappeared into the local area. I weaved my way across the grass, and joined Taxiway A to hold short at A2. 

Swinging the Super Cub into the wind, I conducted the vital actions checks, and completed a run up. Waggling the flight controls reassured me that everything was correctly attached, and after conducting a pre-departure briefing, I called the tower “Betty Boo ready for departure” Very unofficial RT procedures, but, hey, it was very quiet and the controller said it first!

“Betty Boo, cleared for take off Runway 26 Right, surface wind 250 at 5 kts”

I made the acknowledgment, and said to Greg “Ready to go mate?”

“Go for it” came back through my headset.

I eased the throttle open, and gently taxied onto the threshold, marked out on the grass with white paint.

“Betty Boo Rolling” I called, and received a terse “Roger” from the tower.

I held the stick forward, applied the power smoothly, correcting the swing with rudder. The tail came up quickly, and within a few seconds we were making the magical transition from ugly duckling to elegant swan, the engine purring smoothly as we climbed away.

Clearing the Aerodrome, I was directed to depart via west Reigate, and the Buckland Visual Reporting Point.

As we climbed to 1500 feet, and looked west, I must admit, that it didn’t look too promising; hazy with a light grey gauze draped across my intended route.

I had a plan, and I was going to stick to it, so we continued westwards, to pass to the south of Guildford. 

The weather goblins had other ideas. 

East of Guildford, I got the first lashings of rain, the water droplets hitting the windscreen, and then being bullied by the slipstream to rush in rivulets round the sides of the canopy. 

The Surrey City of Guildford – on a better weather day

I applied carburettor heat, and immediately made a 180 degree turn, saying to Greg “This is a fabric winged aircraft, I am recovering back to Redhill”

“Sound decision” came his nonchalant response.

I called Redhill, and explained that we were returning, to be told that a heavy shower was passing through, overhead the field, and that I should aim to re-join for runway 26 Left via the motorway junction.

Junction 7, The M25/M23 Interchange – VRP for the rejoin to Redhill Aerodrome.

Winding the airfield pressure into the altimeter, I ran through the descent checks, and suggested to Greg that we do a few circuits as it would be good practice.

He thought that was a good idea as well, so I called the tower and requested that we do a missed approach, followed by a touch and go, and then maybe some non-standard landings.

The tower quickly approved this, saying that there were no other aircraft currently in the circuit, and to call on final approach.

I brought the power back, and trimmed us for a nice steady 60 mph, planning to reduce to 50 mph on short final. I pegged the altimeter on 1300 feet as I didn’t want to run the risk of infringing class A airspace as I was flying in.

It all seemed to be working out. I was flying through clear air, but although the rain had stopped, looking west, it was still coming in. I calculated that I had about half an hour in the circuit – maybe three turns round the field.

The motorway junction was on the nose, and as I crossed it, I rolled South, roughly paralleling the M23 London to Brighton motorway.

A few minutes later, I banked right, bringing Betty Boo into line with the runway, calling on the radio that I was on final approach for a missed approach. 

Redhill Aerodrome, with the M23 in the foreground

Having received my clearance, I continued to descend, and at 200 feet, turned off the carburettor heat, and applied full power, climbing away back into the circuit. I progressively cleaned the airframe up, moving the flap lever in easy stages, and retrimming for straight and level. 

The downwind leg was uneventful, and I called the tower, requesting a touch and go.

“Call Finals” was the response from ATC, and so I started descending, putting on carburettor heat, and taking the flaps as before. At 200 feet, carburettor heat cold, ready for the go around.

I had nailed the airspeed at 55 mph, and came across the threshold at the correct height. 

Bleeding off the power, I gently pitched back into a three-point attitude, and she sank onto the grass. 

A couple of rumbles and some gentle bumping, holding her straight with rudder, I smoothly applied full power, and pitched back up into a best rate of climb attitude as required by the airfield regulations.

I had reached about 150 feet when the engine stuttered, popping and juddering, and the RPM was dropping rapidly backwards round the gauge!

I instantly shoved the nose forwards, my hands making the checks unbidden – Magnetos, Mixture, Fuel, Primer, Carb Heat.  Everything was correctly configured and where it should be.

The engine was now winding back, giving virtually no power, but I managed to ease another 100 feet out of her. 

“Mayday Mayday Mayday!” I yelled, “Betty Boo, Engine failure, Immediate landing required”

I slammed away the landing flap, and gently rolled right, hearing the controllers calm voice saying:

“Betty Boo, the field is yours, land wherever, Cessna Golf Charlie Whiskey hold in your current position, I’ll call you back”

My throat was dry, and I concentrated on not stalling, descending in a gentle right-hand turn. Airspeed…. must keep airspeed…  I couldn’t risk looking at the Air Speed Indicator – I was doing this by feel and sound.  Thank god for all the sailplane experience.

The runway was under the nose, so I rolled wings level, and deadsticked about halfway down the grass, leaving me another 400 metres if I had needed it.

I allowed the speed to wash off, not touching the brakes, and vacated off the runway so that it could still be used.

“Good landing mate”

I jumped. I had almost forgotten that Greg was sitting there in the back cockpit.

“Thanks” I responded. “Not quite how I saw today playing out, but I’m glad we are in one piece.”

We exited the cockpit, and waited for the Ops car to arrive.

The airfield manager duly arrived, and having reassured himself that we were safe, and that the aeroplane and airfield were undamaged, he asked us to push the aircraft further from the runway and secure it and park it and he would arrange for it to be towed to the hangar when the airfield closed.

He kindly gave us both a lift to the hangar.

The aftermath of this, is that I submitted a full report, with my conclusion – that I had been the victim of carburettor icing.

I subsequently discussed this with a very experienced Cub instructor pilot, and he suggested that the Continental engines fitted to this type were highly susceptible to icing. When he heard that a rain shower had passed through about half an hour prior to my touch and go, he was convinced that the short ground roll had ingested enough water to cause icing in the carburettor leading to loss of power and subsequent engine failure.

Now, I learned a BIG lesson from this.

When I was taught to fly, all of my instructors emphasised that carburettor heat should be selected during the approach to land, and should be switched to cold as part of the after landing checks. 

They also said that if a landing was baulked – a touch and go, the carburettor heat should be selected COLD, so as to ensure full power availability for the climb out.

Betty Boo’s sidewall. Note the Carb Heat, Cabin Heat and Magnetos all in a single panel…. What could possibly go wrong!

This is what I had done in the Super Cub. As soon as I had touched down, I selected COLD, and as a result, there was no warm air running through they system to protect me from the ice caused by the water ingestion.

As this happened a while ago, I decided to review my various checklists. They all state that the Carburettor Heat is selected HOT for the approach, and moved to cold for a baulked landing.

So – my first ever MAYDAY. A sphincter-clenching moment, but one that made me do a lot of introspection. Did I do the right thing?  

Looking back, maybe I made the wrong decision to risk a long-distance flight in a fabric-covered aircraft when rain and maybe marginal VFR was forecast?  Had I decided not to fly, then I would have never placed myself and my aeroplane into a risk situation – albeit a risk that I had not foreseen or even fully understood.

My aircraft handling skills were not wanting, and the drills that I had practiced so many times were virtually automatic. 

The aeroplane was undamaged. The crew were safe and uninjured. A successful outcome.

The following day I discovered that the engineers wanted to be absolutely sure there were no technical issues that could have caused the engine failure. They therefore stripped down the entire fuel system. They only found some minor contamination, so the verdict was that I had encountered engine icing.

What did I learn?

I learnt that an engine can ingest sufficient water from wet grass in a landing roll of 180 metres to fail the engine less than a minute later.

It’s a funny old world, this flying lark.

Go Well…

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A New Years Day With A Classic Touch

New Year’s Day 2019 was crisp and cold; the weak sun shone out of an impossibly bright blue sky – making it an ideal morning to investigate the Phoenix Green Annual Classic Vehicle meet.

At any other time of the year, Phoenix Green in Hampshire is more of a transit village than a destination. Lying astride the main A30 trunk road, two and a half miles north east of the town of Hook, its normally just another “A” road connecting Staines-upon-Thames with Basingstoke.

All of that changes on the first of January every year.

The main focal point of the village is the Phoenix Inn[1], a magnificent old building, dating back to the 1700s. 

The Phoenix Inn at Phoenix Green, Hartley Wintney, Hampshire

It is also the ancestral home of the Vintage Sports Car Club, which was founded at the Phoenix Green Garage, and is now a veritable mecca for classic and sports car enthusiasts and the vintage motorcycle fraternity.

Two British Classics, hiding in the Phoenix Inn’s Car Park.

 This is the opening event of the year for the south-east England classic vehicle community, and attracts all sorts of historic vehicles, from military trucks to vintage and veteran cars. There are normally contingents from owners’ clubs, intermingling with private owners and collectors.

The event is in no way formally organised, and exhibitors and participants just arrive in the village and find somewhere to park. There is absolutely no Police presence, and vehicles of all descriptions are parked on the hard shoulder, the central reservation and the verges, and it all appears to run safely and happily.

Vintage American Cars – Not so much parked as abandoned.

We arrived mid-morning, and already the pretty old village was packed with vehicles, and there was a relaxed party atmosphere, as villagers and visitors wandered up and down, admiring the beautifully restored cars and motorcycles. 

A joy to behold…

The Phoenix Pub is heavily involved in supporting the event, giving over their car park for restored cars and concours motorcycles to be displayed. They were also busy refuelling the spectators and drivers alike, providing mulled wine and hot food outside, in addition to serving meals and drinks inside the pub restaurant.

The Cosy Dining Room at the Phoenix Inn

Having walked up and down both sides of the road through the village, I was a little surprised to have counted five McLaren supercars, each with a price tag of at least £160,000, an absolutely pristine Aston Martin DB6 with a provenance that valued it in excess of £500,000, £60,000 worth of Series 1 Land Rover, a drool-inducing Chevrolet Corvette in searing red which would purge at least £40,000 from the bank balance, and a wonderfully restored Scammell military truck with a street value of about £25,000. 

Just a few McLarens…

 Add in about thirty classic vintage motorcycles, and variegated other marques and models spanning both the last seventy years and the Atlantic Ocean, and the investment parked up haphazardly along the main road was in excess of £1,950,000.

Probably one of the most elegant super cars ever built, except for the E Type Jaguar!

This event is well worth a visit – unless you happen to be a motor insurance underwriter, in which case it would be best to stay at home.

Just in case.

So, better make a note in your diary for next year!

Go Well…


[1] www.phoenixinn.co.uk

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If You Think Humanity Is Stupid Now, Keep Polluting and See What Happens…

Climate change.

We have been hearing about it in the news almost every day, until it was supplanted by other issues. The run-up to BREXIT, the general election, floods, and now the Coronavirus pandemic have made us all temporarily dump the issue and public attention is now fully occupied with the control of the global pandemic.

The mainstream media have highlighted the drop in climate-change gases – a direct link to a significant reduction in both travel and manufacturing following global lockdown.

From a planetary perspective, the drop is not highly significant and as soon as lockdown finishes, we will probably revert to our old ways very quickly. 

Having said that, I am hopeful that state governments will use the opportunity to consolidate some of the steps that have been taken to enable the use of alternative means of transport – making that small reductions permanent. 

We have seen cities around the world banning vehicular traffic from city streets, together with enhancing cycle lanes and pedestrian routes, making it easier and cleaner to travel.

Electric Bicycles – the best of both worlds – and you can take them on the train!

This is nowhere near enough, but at least it is showing that people can get around large cities safely without using a car or public transport.

All the media focus revolves primarily around the ever-increasing levels of air pollution that are triggering climate change, rising sea levels and rising temperature.

There is, however, an interesting health issue that lurks in the sidelines.

As a species, we rely on breathing air, from which we extract oxygen, and then exhale CO2, together with other gases such as Nitrogen and Methane, and some organic compounds.

In order for our bodies to function correctly we rely on our lungs to absorb oxygen and exhale the COin the correct ratios. 

The composition of the air that we breathe is 78% Nitrogen, 21% Oxygen, and 1% Argon. There are also traces of CO2, and rare gases such as Xenon, Neon, Helium, Methane.

As we increase the levels of CO2 in the air, our lungs will be unable to exhale the surplus and this will be absorbed into the body, which will have an effect.

According to a recent study conducted by the University of Colorado in Boulder, The Colorado School of Public Health, and the University of Pennsylvania, evidence suggests that future levels of CO2 may severely impair our cognitive ability.

The study based its research on two scenarios; one, a world where human society reduces the amount of CO2 it releases into the atmosphere, and the other where we don’t – “business as usual.”

Alarmingly, even when we do reduce the amount of carbon dioxide that we release into the ecosystem, by the year 2100, individuals would still be exposed to elevated levels (by today’s standards) of CO2 leading to a 25% decrease in cognitive abilities.

The reduction in mental ability is caused by an increase in CO2 in the brain, a condition called Hypercapnia. which leads to a reduction in brain/blood oxygen (Hypoxemia).

The result is a reduction in brain activity, decreased levels of arousal and excitability. On top of this, it induces sleepiness, and anxiety, the result of which is an impact on our cognitive functions such as learning, memory, strategising and crisis management.

Lost Concentration…? Foggy Brain…? Maybe thats Air Pollution for you…Photo by Oladimeji Ajegbile on Pexels.com

This is easily understood. Who hasn’t been in a lecture room, classroom or meeting room, where our concentration wanders, and we get tired and disengaged. The result of excess CO2 released by a lot of individuals. The solution is normally to open a window to let in some fresh air.

But what if the air outside was not really fresh at all? 

A report in 2001 (Robertson) argued that even slightly elevated levels of CO2 (720 parts per million) could cause lowered pH in the blood (acidosis) leading to restlessness, mild hypertension and ultimately confusion.

The report concluded that if we continue with “business as usual”, flagrantly releasing megatons of COinto the atmosphere, by 2100 we could see our cognitive functions reduced by as much as 50%.

Unless we build on this virally-induced reduction in CO2 and continue to decrease global pollution, we may survive this.

If not, we, as a race, are doomed to become the joint recipients of the last-ever Darwin Awards.

Charles Darwin, Author of The Origin of Species.

Go Well…

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We all Know that ONE Person…

Flying is a serious addiction. It needs feeding, and a sufferer will need to get a regular fix if he or she is to remain happy. Denying any aviator their flying fix will result in massive mood swings, irritability, loss of sense of humour, and a restlessness that is impossible to shift.

Having passed my written examinations for my ATPL in the UK, I needed to build my flying experience, and amass a considerable number of hours in a relatively short time.

Working in Flight Operations for a major British Airline, meant that I had access to heavily discounted airfares, and in some cases free tickets and as flying light aircraft in the USA was half the price of flying in the UK, it made sense to go to America.

Readers of my previous posts will know that I learned to fly in Fort Worth near Dallas, however, I wanted to do my hours building in an area where I could partake of other leisure activities when not flying.

This left me with two choices; Florida or California. I did a lot of research on the two states, and their flying schools, and decided to go to Southern California, initially to Fullerton Municipal (KFUL) and then to Long Beach (KLGB).

As I had friends in Southern California, I frequently combined flying with chilling out in either Rancho Santa Margarita or Dana Point. This naturally involved drinking beer, shooting the breeze, and in some cases, shooting firearms on a friends ranch.

Which brings me to the point of this article. There is always one person that you will meet in aviation who is a true professional and leaves a lasting and indelible impression upon you, stamping their ethos onto your soul.

I met that man in February 2002, at Long Beach Airport.

I had landed at LAX the previous afternoon and planned my stay in such a way as to maximise my flying time. I booked a hotel near Long Beach Airport and drove there from LAX so that I could be at the flying club first thing the next day.

Walking into the flying club, I chatted with the ops desk clerk and told him that I wanted to book an aeroplane and an instructor. I had decided that I would use the hours building opportunity to do the differences training onto a new aeroplane type, and I was offered a Cessna 172 Skyhawk. I was told that Harry was available and that they would ring him for me to discuss times with him.

When the call connected, I explained to Harry what I wanted to do, that I wanted to convert onto a new type and to undertake my biennial flight review.

“Sure,” he said, “The airplane is booked at 1500, for a two-hour slot. So, meet me at the club at 1430, we’ll go through the paperwork, and briefing. Then we will go and sit in the airplane for an hour, going through the drills and talking about the performance. You gotta pay for my time whatever, but you only pay for the airplane once the engine is running, so better to do the classroom stuff on the ground, then we can concentrate on having fun and flying”

Putting down the ‘phone, I smiled. Harry sounded a nice bloke. He’d saved me a good few dollars, so I decided to invest in a new checklist, a chart, and other bits and bobs in the pilot shop.

When I say bits and bobs, I mean a new Noise Cancelling Headset and a RAM mount for my GPS navigation unit.

I read the club rules, signed the books, and reviewed the departure procedures and any long term NOTAMs that would affect me the next day. I decided that I would leave the route plan up to Harry, and just see what happened.

Long Beach. Not for the chicken hearted. Mixing it with C-17s and Stealth Flighter, and the odd DC3.

The next morning was gloomy and foggy, typical LA Basin weather, but if it was true to form it would have burnt off by about 1400, so happy days.

I grabbed a quick hotel breakfast, and glugged back a mug of coffee, and then drove to the airport.

Parking up, I walked up the stairs to the club, grabbed another coffee, and went and sat on the balcony overlooking the ramp. On the far side of the airport, the Sheriff Department’s helicopter sat forlornly on the parking, and I could see a C-17 being towed into the McDonnell-Douglas (now Boeing) hangar.

I killed the time reading the Pilots Operating Handbook for the Cessna C172 SP Skyhawk and chatting with the other students and club pilots. After a relaxed lunch of a grilled sandwich washed down with Sprite, I went back into the ops room to meet Harry.

Harry, Chilled out as normal. My Check flights in SOCAL will never be quite the same.

Harry wandered in at 1430, carrying his clipboard, headset, chart and a small case. About my height, but with at least ten years seniority on me. He had a luxuriant moustache, which emphasised his happy smile.

We shook hands, and after a few pleasantries, went down to the aircraft, where he patiently went through the controls with me, paying special attention to the fact that this was an injected engine – different to the normally aspirated models that I had flown previously.

He conducted a brief questions and answers session with me, then briefed for the departure out of Long Beach. It was as I remembered, straight out, a left turn at the Los Angeles River, and down to the Queen Mary, where we would turn south.

Long Beach Airspace

The route was down to San Diego via Mount Palomar. Cool. I swiftly drew lines on the chart, and calculated times and headings, corrected with a quick call to 1-800-WX-BRIEF for an en-route weather briefing.

Then it was back to the aircraft.

N137ME taxying at Long Beach Daugherty Field

Harry leaned back in the right-hand seat, looked across at me, and said, “OK, It’s your airplane, I’m just here for the ride.”

So saying, he looked out of the window, as I called Long Beach ground for taxi clearance, and requested a squawk for SOCAL approach Southbound to San Diego.

I frantically scribbled the clearance down, together with the Squawk; I was surely not used to the machine-gun-fast radio in the US.

We taxied out, number two to a Douglas DC-3, and stopped at the holding point to do the vital actions and pre-flight checks.

Once the DC-3 had departed, I lined up and asked Harry if he was happy and good to go.

“I’m good” was his laconic response, and I eased the throttle to the stop, and we accelerated down the tarmac, lifting off cleanly, and climbing away into the bright sunlight.

I smiled to myself. My prediction was correct – the maritime layer had burnt off nicely, and the sky was bright blue.

I changed frequencies to SOCAL approach, and they immediately had me identified on radar and cleared me to the south as filed. Crossing the LA River – which flows through a concreted canal, I rolled into a left turn and then left again to parallel the coast, gently climbing to my planned cruise altitude.

The Los Angeles River at Long Beach

Interestingly, the Los Angeles River has been used in several movies, with probably the most famous ones being Grease, Terminator 2 and The Dark Knight Rises.

Racing for Pink Slips in the LA River – Grease

I could see Emmy and Eva the two oil platforms out ahead near the shoreline and some large cargo ships entering the Port of Los Angeles at Long Beach.

Harry seemed quite happy with my performance so far and once I had the aircraft trimmed out for straight and level flight, Harry came to life, as if energised by a switch in the cockpit.

He asked me to demonstrate several manoeuvres and spotted a number of areas where he thought I could improve my flying. Climbing a little higher, he had me stalling in every configuration, steep turns, timed turns, slow flight and practice engine failures.

At the end of each feedback session, he would get me to repeat the manoeuvre, and if I did it to his satisfaction, he would murmur “There ya go” If not, it was more practice required.

Having performed all of this he asked me to plan a diversion to Los Alamitos Army Air Base.

This made me work hard. The grilled cheese and ham sandwich and can of Sprite I scoffed earlier was conspiring against me, aided and abetted by the turbulence. I had to be head down in order to plan the divert (No Sky Demon moving maps then!), and I was grateful that the planning didn’t take too long, as I really didn’t want to toss my cookies in the aeroplane.

I rolled the aircraft onto my calculated heading and guessed at a wind correction, and we flew inland towards Los Al, descending at a pedestrian 500 feet per minute.

Harry leaned over and stared hard at my chart and the planned diversion, and then peered at the Direction Indicator. “That oughta work,” he said softly. After a few flights with Harry, I came to recognise this as high praise.

He leaned back into his seat, idly tapping his fingers on the glareshield.

“Hey, Y’know what would be good here… You done a talkdown before?”

I had never undertaken any Precision Approach Radar approaches, even during my instrument training, so this was going to be good.

Harry then said that he would take the radios and that I should concentrate on flying the aircraft.

I continued to descend, and Harry took control briefly and told me to put the hood on.

Once I was wearing the hood, he relinquished the controls. “She’s all yours” he grinned.

For the non-flying types that may be reading this, the “hood” is a smoked plastic visor designed to prevent a pilot from looking out of the windows, thus forcing them to fly using the flight instruments as their sole source of reference to navigate and control the aircraft safely.

I was now working at the extreme boundary of my performance envelope if I am honest. I was jet-lagged, and mentally tired, bearing in mind that this was my first flight for about a month.

Listening intently to the stream of instructions from the Radar Approach controller, I was constantly adjusting the power, rate of descent and heading. We were also getting lower and lower until finally the controller called “Radar Service Terminated”

Harry flipped my visor up, and there ahead of me was the main runway of Los Alamitos right under the nose.

“Will ya look at that! That came together nicely. Now, Go Around, and take me back to Long Beach, and we will have a coffee and a chat about what we should do tomorrow.”

The rest of the flight was almost routine, and I made a standard approach to Rwy 30 and an uneventful landing.

Switching to Long Beach Ground, we were cleared back to the flying club parking and as we taxied sedately back, Harry was giving me more feedback.

Pulling onto a vacant pan, I slowed the aircraft to a halt and performed the shutdown checks.

As the propellor jerked to a stop, the cabin became almost silent. I say almost, because the whine of the gyros spooling down and the ticking of the engine cooling reminded me that I still needed to secure the aeroplane.

We both got out, unplugging our headsets, and chatting amiably in the early evening sunshine.

Popping the control locks in, and removing the key, I made a final check that the master switch was off, before slamming the door and locking it.

I swiftly snapped the tie-down chains onto the lugs under the wings and walked around the aircraft tail to help Harry.

As I approached him, he held out something to me in his hand.

I took the item; it was a C90 cassette. I must have looked at him blankly, because he clapped me on the back, saying “Its an audio cassette, feller”

He reached back into the rear seat area and pulled out a small tape recorder. He had plugged it into the intercom jack in the rear cabin, so I had a complete record of the entire flight; his training, my responses, and the Air Traffic conversations.

He did this for every student that he took on an instructional flight. He made no charge for this. Not only was he an excellent instructor, from whom I learnt so much, but he was generous of spirit, and we flew many subsequent flights, where I was to enjoy his skilled instructing and excellent sense of humour.

His comedic muscle was well-developed. I remember that a few months later, I emailed him from England before my next arrival saying I wanted to do some interesting, longer navigation exercises, and he sent me a reply by email with a number of airfields to visit, together with web-links.

The suggestions were:

Las Vegas Muni, Santa Barbara, and the Chicken Ranch in Nevada…

I duly checked the links, to discover the Chicken Ranch was a brothel with its own airstrip.

I called him from the UK to explain that I didn’t think that SWMBO would be too enamoured of me visiting the Chicken Ranch.

He was roaring with laughter, as he said that he was thankful that I didn’t want to go there because his wife would be equally unhappy.

So, we went to Santa Barbara, but that’s another story.

Sadly, my mentor, instructor and friend died when his parachute failed to open at Perris Field in Southern California in October 2008.

After all these years, I still have four of Harry’s C90 cassettes, which I need to get digitised. I am sure there is still information that I can learn from.

Blue Skies Harry.

See you at the bar in the Big Flying Club in the Sky.

Go Well…