Categories
Aircew Airport aviation English Culture Flight Lyricist Nostalgia pilots Poetry Transport Vehicles

I’ve always been a hangar rat at heart

I’ve hung around small airfields, since I was just a lad,

A hangar rat, an air cadet, just aviation mad,

Sent solo in a sailplane, when I was just sixteen,

Soaring over English fields, a  quilt of gold and green.

The miracle of flight. Too young for a motorbike, but able to fly the Kirby Cadet Mk III

Sweeping out the hangars, polishing the props,

Cleaning all  their windshields, hanging round in ops,

Topping up the tanks and tyres, mowing taxiway and strip,

Befriending all the pilots, to see if I could blag a trip.

Gissa Flight Mate…

I worked hard at my day job, slaving nine till’ five,

Then pumping gas, and cleaning, to keep the dream alive,

When I wasn’t working, I was studying my craft,

Funny how quickly, the months and years flash past

Practicing the art and skill of landing a taildragger.

As I got older, I got bigger,  and the airfields did the same,

And I was thrilled to hang around, much bigger aeroplanes,

Still in operations, briefing crews and planning flights

Working out performance, a blur of days and nights.

Bit bigger that I was used to!

Then one day, the time arrived, when I had to say goodbye,

To the mighty ships that plied their trade, so high up in the sky,

I left the airport on that final day, without once looking back,

Already thinking of my former self, and could I get him back?

So I wandered up the airstrip as the sun climbed the clear blue sky,

Pulled my little airplane out, I prepared myself to fly,

Turning round, I saw him, overalls, broom and cap,

Young, fresh-faced, teenager, My replacement Hangar Rat

So I took him flying….

Categories
Airport Cycling Flight Society Transport Travel Uncategorized

Fast Food, Aeroplanes and Problems with Bicycles

As those who occasionally read my postings will know, my normal writing haunt is a local branch of Costa coffee, sipping at a medium skinny wet latte with an extra shot. 
Just so that I don’t come across as boring and predictable, I am sitting on my friend’s terrace in Coto De Caza, a small community of houses nestled around a golf course and country club, tucked away in the foothills of the California Hills, not far from Rancho Santa Margarita. 
Instead of my normal coffee, I am drinking a chilled bottle of Betty IPA, made by the Hangar 24 micro brewery based at Redlands, CA. This has proved to be a very good choice. America now has a thriving micro brewery sector, all producing some excellent ales. This one caught my eye for no other reason than it was packaged in a box with a picture of a B-17 bomber nose section, complete with a nose-art pin up girl. The aircrcraft was called Betty, so being a total aviation person (Anorak) I just had to buy it.  
Unusually for Southern California, it is, what we Brits call “pissing down” and the temperature is so cold that I am almost considering changing from my shorts and tee shirt into trousers and fleece. 
I have been up to LA today, and spent some relaxing time visiting Hollywood Boulevard and Sunset Boulevard. Having checked the hand and footprints outside the Chinese Theatre, I am surprised to see that I have bigger hands and feet than Tom Cruise, and the same sizes as Arnold Schwarzenegger. I guess that working out doesn’t make your feet bigger, just your chest and shoulders. 
On the other hand, Vin Diesel makes me look like a dwarf, and Clint Eastwood is only marginally bigger than I am. This made my day (Punk) and I felt lucky all the way back down to Sunset, looking for a certain burger joint in which to have lunch. 
Now, whilst I am not a regular user of fast food outlets, I still use them from time to time.  It’s odd that in the UK we have a very limited selection. We have franchised MacDonalds in virtually every town and city and a home grown chain called Burger King, and that’s about it if you want a burger. I have to say it – MacDonalds in the UK (rather than in the USA) compares unfavourably. 
Mind you, it’s not all bad news for MacDonalds. I was on a business trip a while ago, to Bandar Seri Begawan in Brunei, where I enjoyed a very nice halal chicken burger at the MacDonalds outlet. On another trip to the Far East, I watched an elephant and rider use the Maccy D’s drive-through in Bangkok with no problem, despite the fact that a few years ago, I was banned from riding my humble bicycle through the MacDonalds drive through in Staines-upon-Thames on the grounds that I would “hold up traffic”. 
Always up for intellectual debate, I took issue with the rude attitude of the guardian of the “Drive-Thru” The spotty faced manager was quite explicit and refused to accept my argument that as all vehicles passed through the drive-through at less than walking pace, I was hardly holding up traffic. I also explained to the simpleton that a bicycle was in fact a vehicle and that I had to obey the road traffic act like all other road users. He countered this by saying that it was for my own protection as I may have an accident. 
Really?  
Oh, I guess I could drop my chips, or maybe spill my drink. I couldn’t conceive of any circumstances in an almost stationary drive-through, in which I would be placing myself in a hazardous situation. I stood more risk of getting a serious dose of e-coli from the lad with an obvious sebaceous gland problem than I was of facing imminent death or injury from vehicles.  
By now, I really was holding the traffic up, so I did eventually get served, and wishing him a cheery “Have a nice day” I went on my way. 
I noticed that a few days later there was a sign banning bicycles from using the drive through. This is the mentality of immature management and justification of stopping a safe activity on the grounds of health and safety.  
Anyway, grumpy old git rant over, and getting back to the plot…

The very best burgers on the planet are served at any branch of “In’n’ Out Burgers”. This is a very small chain of burger shops, indigenous to only Southern California. I discovered this best kept secret a few years ago, when visiting the same friends for a vacation.
I had taken a day out to do some light aircraft flying out of Santa Ana (Orange County) International Airport, also known as John Wayne International. I had rented an Evektor Sport Star light aeroplane from Sunrise Aviation, and had spent a happy few hours cruising up and down the west coast, from John Wayne to San Diego, and then back as far up the coast as Santa Barbara, flying overhead Los Angeles International. America is a fabulous place for a private pilot to fly. Try overflying London Heathrow at 4000 feet, and you’ll probably get shot down!  My routing then swung inland, to potter along past the Hollywood sign, and thence back to land at John Wayne. 

Above: The Evektor SportStar after my West Coast flight.

I landed, settled my account and as I was now officially ravenous, I jumped in my hire car, and headed onto the highway. I found In’n’Out by accident, but with some help from the counter staff I ordered a Double Double (Double burger, double cheese, double onions ) and I was recommended to have it “Animal” style. This involved having a special sauce and relish applied. I also ordered fries and a coke. 

I have to say, the place was heaving. I got issued ticket number 61. After a ten minute wait, they were calling tickets 43 and 44. I kicked back and filled in my log book, carefully adding the hours and minutes. 
At last, my number was called, and I was passed a neat red tray, measuring about 18 inches by 12 inches, upon which were a cardboard tray of fries, and a nicely wrapped burger. The flavours in the burger were excellent, and the burgers themselves were made of proper minced beef, rather than the compressed and reconstituted meat that fills so many other burger buns.  

The fries were crisp, and the whole meal was not only good value, but stuck in my memory as being of very good quality. 
I wasn’t disappointed today either. The In’n’Out on Sunset was overwhelmed with customers, and it was only 11:50. I had to wait again, but the wait was worth it as the quality was still very good. And the cost was just under seven bucks. 
And so,I’m sitting here, in the gathering gloom, typing this blog, prior to making a report on trip advisor. 
Thanks to the very hard working youngsters on duty today… you Rock!

Categories
Aircew Airport Flight Motoring pilots

Stars In The Sky

Yesterday, I was sitting in Costa Coffee in Petersfield, trying to warm up and dry out.  The morning outside was, in pilot-speak “Claggy”, and the mist was draping itself seductively over the landscape.  I had just travelled the best part of 80 miles to get my scooter inspected prior to applying to get it onto the British vehicle register. 

The journey on the motorway was dull, boring, and miserable, and the continental trucks buffeted the bike around, competing with the blustery wind to make me work hard to keep the machine following a straight line.

So I decided to stop in Petersfield to get out of the fine misty rain, and glug back some Java.

I pulled out my trusty IPad, and started to write this article.  The subject matter has been playing on my mind for a good few months now, and having a few minutes spare, I will launch into it without further ado.

The catalyst for this sudden desire to get the article written was the news that Harrison Ford, a man for whom I have great admiration, had crash landed his vintage aeroplane whilst taking off from Santa Monica airport. 

Our Mister Ford is a keen pilot, and holds both single engine and twin engine licences, together with a helicopter licence.  He owns a number of aircraft, and is in love with flying to the extent that – in his words “I will fly up the coast for a cheeseburger”

As an aviation enthusiast (anorak) I love any films related to flight, flying, or aeroplanes.  My film collection is littered with films such as Top Gun (which must be the seminal aviation movie for the 80s) Air America, The Great Waldo Pepper, Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines, and the Flight of the Phoenix.

I decided that it would be interesting to see how many other Hollywood stars who appeared in such movies actually had piloting experience.

There are one or two well known high profile pilots, such as John Travolta, who owns a number of aircraft, and has a home on an air park in Florida.  He also operates a Boeing 707 bearing Quantas livery, which he flies regularly.

His nearby neighbour in California, one Clint Eastwood has been a qualified helicopter pilot for over thirty years, as well as being a keen environmentalist. 

Fellow actor and song wright, Kris Kristoffersson was also a helicopter pilot, having been taught by the U.S. military, and serving in Germany.  Leaving the army in 1965, he became a commercial helicopter pilot, serving oil platforms in Southern Louisiana for three years before making it big in the music industry, and then more latterly, the movies 

The diminutive Tom Cruise, who played the lead role of Pete “Maverick” Mitchell in the film Top Gun is a pilot in real life as well.  Having qualified in Canada, he owns a P51 Mustang, and a Pitts   Special. Not content with just flying aircraft, he also likes to jump,out of them, and in a keen parachutist. This, in my opinion, makes him a certifiable lunatic – but, hey, each to his own. 

Morgan Freeman also flies, and holds a Private licence.  He too has experienced the thrill and freedom that flying offers.  As a younger man he was an aircraft engineer in the USAF, and had aspirations of being a fighter pilot. I think he made the right choice, because as a successful movie star he can afford to fly whatever he likes….

The late, great James Stewart was a full Colonel in the USAF, and flew many combat missions during the Second World War, and was a highly decorated pilot.  He also appeared in the famous film The Flight of the Phoenix, and appeared in the starring  role in the biopic of Charles Lindburgh. However, his wartime experiences affected him profoundly, and he was averse to appearing in war films. 

Now, let’s move on to Star Trek.  Stark Trek epitomises the pinnacle of what aviation could become;  flying in what is effectively four dimensions.  The cast of this show is positively filled with an abundance of pilots.

James Doohan, who played Chief Engineer “Scottie” flew during the Second World War as a liaison pilot, flying Taylorcraft Auster single engined aircraft, liaising with Canadian Artillery units. He was a natural and exuberant pilot, and was reprimanded for slaloming his aircraft between telegraph poles in around Salisbury Plain, when operating from RAF Andover. 

Creator and director of the Star Trek franchise, Gene Rodenberry was a bomber pilot during the Second World War, flying B17 Flying Fortresses in the Pacific theatre.  He flew 89 combat missions, and was awarded both the Distinguished Flying Medal, and the Air Medal. He retired from the USAF holding the rank of Captain.

Subsequently, he went on to work for Pan American, flying Lockheed Constellations.  Strangely, he left his aviation connections behind, and before creating the series, he enrolled as a police officer in the LAPD. 

Michael Dorn, (Lieutentant Worf) is an accomplished and experienced pilot too. – and has owned a number of classic American ex-military jets, including a T33 trainer, and F86 Sabre, and a Sabreliner.  He is also very privileged to have flown with both the Blue Angels and the Thunderbirds.

Kurt Russell, joins the ranks of celebrity aviators.  The star of films such as Backdraught, and Vanilla Sky, and long time partner to Goldie Hawn holds a private licence for both single and multi engine aeroplanes.  He is also heavily involved in the aviation charity Wings of Hope. 

Action man Steve McQueen was also a very keen aviator. Having had a very dismal and fractured childhood, Steve developed a love for motor racing, fast cars and motorcycles.  He owned a collection of both, and performed a lot of his own stunts.  He is particularly renowned for the motorcycle chase sequence in The Great Escape, and for the high speed car chase in the film Bullit.  

It must be a hand-eye coordination thing, because he also fell in love with aviation.  

Or it could possibly be because his natural father was a stunt pilot with a Barnstormer Flying Circus!

Steve owned and flew a 1945 Boeing Stearman biplane, a Piper J-3 Cub, and a very rare Pitcairn PA-8 which was used by the U.S. ace Eddie Rickenbacker when he flew for the U.S. postal service.

George Peppard of “The A Team” fame was a talented pilot, and flew most of the aerial sequences in the film “The Blue Max” in which he starred as a German Air Force pilot.   He also piloted his own Learjet, which he used for commuting.

Jack Pallance, was selected by the USAF for pilot training, but a serious aircraft crash, which severely burned his face prevented him from flying thereafter.  

It’s also important not to forget the ladies in aviation.

Angelina Jolie is a qualified private pilot and flies a Cirrus SR-22. The model Giesele Bundchen has gained her wings, as has the British TV personality Carol Vorderman.  

Hilary Swank who, coincidentally, played the part of Amelia Earhart has also got a licence.

It’s not just the movie and TV personalities that have been gripped by the thrill of flying. 

Country Singer Alan Jackson has a private licence for both single engine and twins, and ex Van Halen rocker Dave Lee Roth has a helicopter licence.

Gary Numan, the Techno-Pop icon of the 1970s and front man of Tubeway Army is passionate about flying.  He qualified as a pilot and operated a North American Harvard for 15 years on the UK Airshow circuit. 

Bruce Dickinson, lead singer of heavy rock group Iron Maiden is also a flier.  However, his enthusiasm took him one stage further than most of his contemporaries, who are, in the main, private pilots.  He decided that he would gain his commercial licence, and in fact flew for the now defunct UK based airline Astraeus, flying Boeing 757/767 types. He now owns an aviation company based at St Athan in Wales. 

Probably the most famous musician with a licence is John Denver.  During a musical career that spanned a couple of decades, he too fell in love with flying.  Taught to fly by his Father, a record breaking USAF officer (who flew a B-58 Hustler supersonic bomber) he also owned and operated many different aeroplanes, including a Learjet, a Christen Eagle aerobatic biplane, and a pair of Cessna 210 utility planes.  

Many of Johns songs were about aviation or space travel. 

Sadly, John died in an air crash, when flying  his recently acquired Rutan Long EZ which crashed on a Californian beach, killing him instantly.

So, next time you watch a film, and think that the actor or actress is a “Lovey” and a soft shrinking violet, you may be doing them a great dis-service. Not only may they be doing a good percentage of their own stunts, but they may be better qualified than you are!

 

  

Categories
Aircew Flight pilots Poetry Veterans war

No Flying Today – Ops Scrubbed

I wrote this after wasting a day at a little grass airfield in Southern England, waiting for the grey overcast, and the heavy rain and showers to blow through. – typical cold front weather. The airfield – Popham in Hampshire was, and still is the home of the Spitfire flying club, and on that morning it was pretty atmospheric, and I just got to thinking. This is the result.

For those unfamiliar with the UK flying licences, the reference in the poem to the IMC is the Instrument Meteorological Conditions Rating, held by pilots who are qualified to fly on instruments, in cloud.

No Flying Today – Ops Scrubbed

The weather at the airfield, was gloomy wet, and grey,
The rains lashed down, the clouds whipped past, a dreary, soggy day,
I mooched about the clubhouse, and heaved a mighty sigh,
And cursed the fickle gods above, who wouldn’t let me fly.

So I sat there glum, dejected, and sipped my tepid tea,
When a rheumy eyed old warbird, plonked down next to me,
And as he sat, I glanced around, and there I chanced to see,
Proud but faded, on his chest, a single DFC.

I turned away, and sipped my tea, which I add, was weak,
I made to go, and drained my cup, and then I heard him speak
“Don’t feel cheated old chap, this weather will soon pass by,
And if you fly this morning, then you will surely die”

“What makes you so sure?” I asked, “Why should it be me?”
“I have flown in cloud before, I have my IMC”
He chuckled quietly, and then, before he spoke,
He looked at me, and politely cleared his throat

Alone, inside the club house, with the rain still crashing down,
I noticed that my new companion’s face was creased up in a frown,
He grasped my arm, leaned forwards, and peered closely at my face,
His voice was low, insistent, then he rushed on a-pace

“It was on a ropy day like this, in the summer, of ’43,
When I scrambled in my Spitfire, to patrol the cold North Sea,
I was supposed to track a warship, the best the Hun had got,
Then pass my observations to the Navy, for them to make a plot.

Once airborne, I was soon enveloped in solid looking cloud,
Which as I discovered later was to be my burial shroud,
I stared upon my gauges, nailed airspeed and AI
And then I saw some green above, where I should have seen the sky

It took a few eternities, before it all sunk in,
I was fully inverted, sir, and also in a spin,
I pushed the stick, I kicked the bars, and pulled every stunt I knew,
But nothing could recover it, there was nothing I could do

The next thing I remember, is sitting on my arse,
watching as my kite burned out, scorching, black, the grass,
It was just then that I noticed, with a feeling of sick dread,
That the pilot was in the cockpit, and he was surely dead

So, old son, take note from me, advice that you should heed,
Don’t trust to luck, or the instincts of your breed,
Instruments, like people, sometimes fail, or lie,
and if you blindly follow them, then, like me, you’ll surely die.

So, One pilot to another, I say to you, old chap,
Don’t bugger about in clouds, watch the landscape, and your maps,
Only fly when birds do, don’t take needless chances,
don’t fly in bad weather, or in iffy circumstances

I considered all his comments, and thought perhaps he’s right,
I turned to thank him for his guidance, and he’d disappeared from sight,
I looked around, but he was gone, or was he there at all?
Then I saw his young and carefree face, staring from the photo on the wall

I read the caption, inscribed upon the frame, and this is what it said

Pilot Officer Jim Smithers, DFC
Killed in Action 1943, aged 19
And, I realised he Was Dead

Mark Charlwood © owns the intellectual copyright to this work. Unauthorised copying, distribution or publication is prohibited. Please contact me if you wish to use my work. Many thanks

Categories
Airport Flight Poetry Romance Transport Travel

Airport visit

This is another one from my back catalogue. I wrote this whilst working as a part time crew bus driver, when I was raising money to pay some big bills. The scene was London’s Gatwick Airport South Terminal. The Northern terminal wasn’t built at the time of writing.

I found it in a folder whilst unpacking some boxes that I took out of the loft.

So here it is…..

Airport Visit

Yellow sodium lights, string upon string, row upon row,
Casting a yellow aura onto the pregnant clouds,
Whilst the world slumbers, this is a land of insomnia,
Never sleeping, teeming with life

I pass through the doors, into this concrete and chrome citadel,
It’s artificial warmth engulfs me, bright neon and noise,
Smells of stale burgers and stale humanity, crowded yet empty,
A different world – an alien place

Wandering through this manmade canyon, yellow stalactites offering directions,
Avoiding the endless cleaners, driving their powered brooms, scarabs of the night,
Ever watchful, vigilant, evading mobile cages of luggage,
Destined for who knows where?

Dante’s hell here, tens of sentient corpses, in limbo,
Strewn like victims on stereotype couches – the un-dead,
Awaiting their flight into the future,
The cheerful obnoxiousness of a giant orange kiosk, serving processed juice.

Musical, the chimes demand attention, the disembodied voice,
Reaching into the furthest nooks and crannies – no escape,
Calling the faithful to the altar of travel,
A tired policeman, gun on hip, drinking plastic coffee from a cardboard cup

As I walk by a party of arrivals dribble from the customs hall, motley collection of searching faces,
Meeters and greeters surge forward clipboards held aloft like religious talismen,
Their overspill of emotion floods me, drowning me, relief, tears, tiredness all at once,
The elderly couple tightly embrace, oblivious to anyone but each other

Deeper I penetrate into this strange land, my eyes assaulted by TV screens that force feed data,
Boldly, I step onto the rubber walkway, driving me into the maw of the machine to be processed,
Journeys end! Departures, and I go to the check in desk,
The uniformed clone launches a computer designed smile at me, chants a litany of questions to appease the gods,

I’ve passed the test, and weigh my bags,watching, devoid of emotion, disengaged,
They lurch away, into a dark oblivion, nostalgia hits…will I ever see them again?
I stand and appraise my fellow travellers; the lady in the two piece, face taut, fearful,
The drunken louts in suits with Nikons round their necks

I see a weary figure, a foreign lady, pushing her cleaning cart like a mobile penance,
How many toilets has she cleaned today, how many will she clean tomorrow?
Will the pretty girl ever see the soldier she’s kissing goodbye again?
The future seems so uncertain, and I share their insecurity

I am alone. No one to wave farewell to, no one to miss, or send a card,
A piece of business flotsam, jostled by the tides of commerce,
Cast wherever the capricious winds of profit blow me,
Oh no – A loud stag party with braying laughs and cowboy hats,

Happy and sad, birth and death – it all happens here,
The total gamut of human emotions and life; deceit, betrayal, love and loyalty,
But emotions can’t be X Rayed, or found by customs – prohibited articles?
Just people, all suffering the common condition of confusion

At last we’re moving towards the rubicon,
Passport in sweaty hand, boarding pass clamped between gritted teeth,
Shuffling like convicts towards the scaffold,
A bored security guard barely glances at me or my papers as I pass through,

Out of the warm cloying fugg, and into the drizzle, the smell of kerosene in the air like mist,
The sleek belly of the aircraft, illuminated by intermittent flashes of Amber and red,
I’m dwarfed by its size, and the impatient whine of its power,
The raindrops hit me, disguising my tears, as I shuffle forwards to embark

The night is then ripped apart, as I stand at the hatch, mesmerised,
A cluster of lights race past me, rotating, clawing their way up the fabric of the night,
Suddenly absorbed by the clouds, with only the lonely baying of jets to testify to it’s existence.
I turn, and see yellow sodium lights, stirring upon string, row upon row

Mark Charlwood© August 1989

Mark Charlwood holds the intellectual property rights of this work. It is prohibited to copy, republish, or distribute this work without the written permission. If you do want to use it, please contact me.

Categories
Aircew Flight pilots Poetry Uncategorized

Celestial Lady

I wrote this in April 1989, after enjoying a wonderful, blissful day of gliding at the mighty 615 Volunteer Gliding Squadron, Royal Air Force Kenley

Celestial Lady

Dew lies on the velvet baize of the grass, like carelessly strewn fragments of glass,
Thin mist, drapes itself lovingly around the stark limbs of the trees, like a shroud,
My breath, smokes about my face as I peer across the field, in tune with dawns nature

The rising sun has stabbed the sky, causing its blood to stain the puffballs of cloud vermillion,
A bird, like a muezzin, calls the world to awake, from the minaret of the ancient oak,
And the mouth of the hangar gapes, to eject the sleek, yet sleepy residents onto the warming meadow,
The silence, suddenly shattered by the metallic snarl of an irritable engine

I stroll towards my chosen mount where she lies, recumbent on the grass – dormant awaiting the life giving breath of the gods,

Like an osteopath, I check her joints, and probe her taut yet pliant skin, her secret places, and diagnose a clean bill of health,
In the manner of a well bred woman, she demands my respect, and I duly escort her to her position

Strapped in, bound up, my cocoon is secure, an I perform the ritual of setting the instruments.
She moves a little, as we attach the cable, anticipation quivering in her shapely frame,

The cable snakes taut through the grass, a tug, a rumble and she joyously relinquishes her love affair with terra firma, for her true love. – the sky

A brief and wistful farewell to the tug, as he dives away, and at last, my my graceful friend and I are alone in empty acres of cerulean blue, United in a love that no ground bound man can know

We are as one. – her diaphanous wings mere extensions of my arms, bent to my thought and will,
Together we romp and roam the sunlit heavens, our playmates the birds and infant clouds

Like a true lady, she excuses my mistakes, and my callow ham fisted efforts, and doesn’t seek revenge, just gently admonishes me for my ignorance of manners, insensitive to her needs
Her effervescence bubbles like champagne, playful, her sense of humour to the fore,

Plunging me fifty feet, then tossing me one hundred higher, testing, teasing, but I’m still safe

Eventually she tires, grows bored with me, and slowly, imperceptibly, inexorably sinks back towards the land,
Exhilarated – yet yearning more, I gently steer and guide her down
Shamefully she bows her aristocratic head, as if in defeat, dull acceptance that the end is near,

Descending back to the scolding arms of gravity, the field expands, it fills my eyes, trees and meadow a confused blur, grass reaching up to pluck us from the sky

As we descend she moans out loud, rising to a screaming crescendo, as I ease her nose up. – be proud my Beauty! We lightly touch, kissing the unyielding ground, once, twice, thrice, then, totally spent, she drops, once more in slumber

And I am once again a mere mortal

Copyright Mark Charlwood April 1989

Mark Charlwood owns the intellectual copyright to this work. Unauthorised copying is prohibited.

Categories
Ecological Environment Flight Science Society Technology Transport

Smooth Skin Can Save Serious Money

Non-Stick Vehicles
A good way to save money

Every woman knows that unblemished skin is essential to looking good.

In modern vehicle aerodynamics, not only does a smooth skin look good, but it can also save large amounts of money for the owner or operator.

The aviation industry has been aware of the importance of a smooth finish for many years, and has developed many ways of reducing skin friction. Flush rivets and streamlined fairings go a long way to increasing achievable airspeed and reducing drag (and therefore fuel burn).

The latest generation of transport aircraft now increasingly use composite materials such as carbon fibre to construct airframe components. Such materials offer two main advantages – a high strength to weight ratio, combined with the ability to be joined using high technology adhesives rather than rivets.

However, an aircraft in line service becomes dirty over time, and the dirt particles accumulate to cause a breakdown in the airflow over the wing surface, thus increasing drag. Paint finishes also start to blemish and break down, causing further erosion of the erstwhile smooth finish.

This is where the relatively new science of Nanotechnology offers significant improvements to aerodynamic performance.

Nanotechnology is defined as “The manipulation of matter at an atomic or molecular level.” The standard unit of measurement is the nanometre, which is defined as being one billionth of a metre. To put this into context, an atom of Helium measures about 0.1 nanometres!

Developments in this field have enabled the production of commercially available coatings designed to bond to a vehicle structure, forming a perfectly smooth coating which prevents the accumulation of dirt and debris and helps to shed water, and protect paintwork.
The process for applying the nano-emulsion is simple.

Firstly, the airframe is thoroughly cleaned, and then treated with an acidic solution which has the effect of positively polarising the surface. This enables the nano-emulsion to completely bond with the structure.

The final stage is applying the coating itself. Once cured, the coating is fully bonded to the surface.

The fully cured coating is extremely thin – 100 times thinner than a human hair, and the total weight of the treatment adds just four ounces (113g) to the weight of the aircraft.

It is estimated that a treated aircraft will return a fuel saving of somewhere between 1% and 2%!

A number of airlines have been quick to evaluate these products. In 2011, EasyJet, grasped the opportunity to run trials, and had eight of their aircraft treated with the nano coating.

A carrier such as EasyJet’s fuel bill will represent about 40% of its total costs, and be in the region of £750,000,000 ($1,185,000,000) per year. A 1.5% saving on this figure is a massive £11.25 Million per year. As fuel prices only ever go up, these figures are just a start.

There are also additional hidden savings, as treated aircraft will need washing and repainting less frequently.

Another significant saving may be made on the amount of green taxes incurred by the operator. In Europe, these taxes are quite high, and a drop in fuel burn results in a proportional reduction in greenhouse gases.

Recently, British Airways announced that they are conducting a trial on a Boeing B777-200, and is hoping to see cost saving in excess of £100,000 in the year long evaluation.

This technology is not just limited to aircraft operators. The coating is equally effective in a marine environment, and coating ship hulls will improve hydrodynamic qualities.
Road vehicles can also benefit from improvements to their aerodynamics and haulage operators with a large fleet may well be able to enjoy cost savings as well.

So our womenfolk were right all along. Smooth is essential!

Categories
Aircew Flight pilots Poetry war

Yanks

YANKS
or
Todays Target – Schweinfurt

 

He lies slumped in his chair, a young lad in his teens,
With an accent that comes from the Bronx, or from Queens,
Far away from the town and the Girl he adores,
Stuck on our little island, with its grim war-torn shores

There are many more like him, that Uncle Sam sends,
All scattered round bases in the barren cold fens,
They’re miserable, homesick, and longing for home,
Hundreds together, but each one alone

They play ball, horse around, all acting the fool,
Looking for sure like they all just left school,
Off to the village to a dance, and some fun,
To be stopped in the street, by kids wanting gum

A kiss from a girl, and some warm frothy beer,
Games of darts with the yokels, in the snug, for some cheer,
The wail of the sirens, A torch lit by some moron,
“Put that light out you fool, don’t you know there’s a war on”?

The debaggings and silly pranks done for a lark,
The boozy walk back to the camp in the dark,
The glances at aircraft, all standing forlorn,
By the shelters and bomb dumps, just waiting for dawn

By dawns early light, with their cigarettes lit,
They wander to briefing, fully dressed in their kit,
Their laughter is brittle, their voices too high,
Their stress is the demon that waits in the sky

In the briefing the officers outline the attack,
An innocent ribbon of red on the map,
Just dodge the fighters, ignore all the Flak,
A picnic to Schweinfurt, just out there and back.

So, this is the big one, no ten cent rehearsal,
And in clattering buses, they lurch to dispersal,
Where Miss Sally Jones, is now stealing the scene,
A Lumbering, ponderous B Seventeen

With catcalls and insults, the crews climb aboard,
Each doing his best to look casual and bored,
With banter, and laughter, they face the attack,
Each knowing that some will not make it back
So, into the sky, with its sun dappled light,
A wonderful, frightening, soul-numbing sight,
They form up overhead, two hundred or more,
And rip up the silence with their Wright Cyclone roar

Then as one mass, they head off to the East,
Once more to rain bombs on the head of the beast,
Face up to hells cauldron, a sky of hot lead,
These schoolboys who laugh, and make fun of their dread

At the coast they are joined, by their “little friends”,
Whose sleek Mustang fighters are there to defend,
The terrible cargo they take to the foe,
Who’s fighting for life in the country below,

“Bombs gone” is the cry they’ve been longing to hear,
So they can head back to the base, and to a well deserved beer,
Some trailing smoke, with gear hanging down,
They make like the baddies, and “Get outta town”

Limping back, battling hard against enemy fighters,
They are met by the Spitfires, who take care of the blighters,
Over the hedge – chop the power, plonk it down fast,
And abandon the wreckage, where it stops on the grass

Savouring the thrill of still being alive,
With sad epitaphs for those who didn’t survive,
They wander back to their home on the fen
The cream of the crop, they’re Uncle Sam’s Men

 

Mark Charlwood
22nd October 2010

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Categories
Airport Flight Transport Travel

Getting Social at the Airport

Getting Social at the Airport

Over the past few years, there has been a silent revolution taking place. The humble cellular mobile telephone has developed from an unsophisticated brick just about capable of making telephone calls, into a slender touch-screen smart device able to send video by email, and hook up to the internet from just about anywhere!

In parallel with the advancement of the mobile phone is the explosion into public consciousness of the benefits of social networking websites such as Facebook and Linkedin.

Individually these are both very powerful drivers of social change, but combined they are truly awesome in their ability to change our lives – hopefully for the better.

The Airline industry has been quick to identify the potential to engage with their customers using these new technologies. One of the earliest initiatives, now commonplace, is self service check in, either from a home or office PC, or performed using a smart phone.

Ownership of smart phones has dramatically increased recently. Results from the 2011 SITA/Air Transport World Passenger Self Service Survey shows that the use of such ‘phones by travellers has doubled to 54%. Of those users, 74% are business and first class travellers.

Imaginative high-tech marketing can help tie customers very effectively to an airline.

KLM has been very creative in the way that it has embraced smart phone technology.

According to a report published by Brand eBiz, KLM recently launched an I-Phone application quirkily called “Shake and Travel” The user either inputs the preferred choices, and shakes the phone, and the application cleverly suggests a destination together with the ticket prices and flight information. A simple push of a button will enable the user to book the selected flight on line.

The more adventurous can simply shake the phone and take pot luck on where the phone suggests that they go.

The Dutch Daily News recently reported that KLM have introduced “Social Seating”, whereby passengers visit social networks such as Facebook or LinkedIn to select as seat mate who shares a similar disposition and taste as them. This is a truly inspired piece of marketing!

Travolution also reports that KLM provides a Live Flight Tracking application which enables individuals to simply input a flight number and see the position of the aircraft displayed on a world map. Users can also check on flights operated by
Air France and Delta Airlines.

In a further attempt to encourage passengers to bond emotionally with them, KLM have launched their “Passport” application, enabling passengers to convert photographs of their experiences into inspiring films.

United Airlines have cleverly chosen to integrate their loyalty programme, Mileage Plus, with the social sites Facebook and Foursquare, and are offering bonus mileage points to travellers who share their locations at airports throughout the United States. The passenger benefits from information about dining offers locally and gets a further fifty point bonus if check in is completed via the social site being used.

Emirates are also busy developing their Facebook application to enable them to emotionally engage with potential customers.

Oman Air is not slow to see the potential – they have just launched Facebook pages in four different languages to enable customers to leave feedback and remain connected.

The smart phone and online connectivity has had a seismic effect on the way in which airlines and airports conduct their business. Singapore International Airlines has withdrawn is self service check in kiosks at Changi Airport due to low usage – a direct consequence of passengers checking in for flights off-airport.

It’s not just the airlines who are embracing these changes. Passenger Terminal Today reports that East Midlands Airport in Nottingham, England is using an animated holographic image of a virtual Terminal Assistant, who reminds travellers of the security requirements for travelling through the airport. This “friendly face” delivers the security message in a very human fashion, and is probably easier than reading the requirements on a video screen.

In another first for an airport, Moscow Airport is reported as launching the world’s first check in that can be accomplished on a video link from the Skype internet telephone service. (Wall Street Journal).

Airline Loyalty programmes have been here for thirty two years in a virtually unchanged manner. However, they are now metamorphosing and being assimilated into a global marketing machine that will change the way that we travel forever.