What I Learned About Flying. A2A Comanche

[Tinkicker01]

I pull up in front of the hanger at multiflight and climb out of the toasty van into the chill air at LBA.

The service receptionist pops her head out of the door. Oh. James wants to see you in his office ASAP..

Oh ■■■■. What have I done now? An urgent summons to the Chief Pilots office is a thing to be feared. Will I be having a stand up, one sided interview without coffee and biscuits in the near future?

I knock on the door and push firmly into the office, shoulders squared. Look brave..

James is sat there with Pete, one of the directors of multiflight and the one who organises the ferry flights. My shoulders slump.

Great, two onto one. It looks serious..

Hi guys. What did I do? James’s eyes light up. Dunno, what have you done?

Me? Nothing.

James’s grin gets wider. Well it seems that it was a waste of time getting out of bed then if you have done nothing.

Doh. Walked right into that one.

Pete kicks across a chair and I sit. Appears the damaged Comanche presently languishing at Icelandic Air Services is about to get a brand new engine fitted. One which multiflight supplied. So not only have we managed to wreck the customers aircraft, we are profiting from it..

As far as the Turbine Duke, over in Florida that needs ferrying to europe is concerned, it is still unserviceable in its present state and it is not clear when this will change.

To business. I need to deliver a Sensenich propellor to Donegal of all places, and on my return, pick up a box of P&W PT6 spares that have arrived at Prestwick from the US and just cleared Customs. The multiflight maintenance bods are screaming for them.

The prop is loaded up and the Comanche is ready to go. As I walk out to do my pre flight inspection, I wonder how on earth they got a prop in the plane.. It is too long for the baggage compartment and too long for the cabin. I soon find out as I am shown a shallow, long fibreglass pod lashed under the belly of the aircraft by straps. I had seen the mounting points under the aircraft before and wondered what they were for. I prefer not to ask if it is a Piper approved mod or not.

In any case, off we go. Wheels up at 09:30 and set course for Donegal. It is very misty and the cloud base is below 2000ft. No good over the Pennines, I need to find the tops. Up we go and find the tops at 4500ft, so I climb to 6000ft. The air is warmer up here, a balmy 8 degrees C. But I also have a 17kt headwind to contend with. No problem, I have plenty of fuel, but it will mean slower progress.

Once we crossed the Pennines, I decide to descend and lose the headwind to save time and fuel. Back down to 1500ft or so. The air is temp is about 3C. Must be an inversion, which explains the low cloud.

We coast out over Barrow in Furness and set sail over the Irish Sea, crossing the very northern tip of the Ise of Man. To the North, Dunfries and Galloway is very visible and out in front, Ireland is just visible in the mist.

Isle of Man to the south.

We coast in over Ireland, pass just north of Belfast and over Lough Neagh, then we arrive at the Sperrin Mountains. Weather not too bad, I elect to stay under the cloud and pick my way through, rather than climb above again.

Picking our way through..

Sperrin mountains passed and another area of hills about 20 miles away from Donegal Airport. The weather closes in a little, but no rain or snow. I have enough visibility to carry on, but I must admit I am pushing a little. But then again, I am expected to. Aviation white van man is not a job for the faint hearted, nor is ferry flying. The job is to get the parts / aircraft to the customer as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Weather closing in.

Made it to the beautiful Donegal Airport with water close by on two sides. Prop offloaded, the ramp guys did not bat an eyelid at the pod slung underneath, so I guess it is not the first time they saw one. Meanwhile, I just had time for a quick packet of crisps before setting out for Prestwick.

Donegal. Beautiful, but a pity about the weather.

Departing Donegal, I went above the clouds to 7000ft, as now I would have a useful tailwind. The cloud was broken; about 7 octas, so very limited view of the Irish countryside beneath. I began letting down through the cloud while still over water, just before the Isle of Arran and Prestwick hove into view.

With a 35kt wind from the south, the main runway was out, so I had to use 21, the poor mans runway with no fancy additions. Perfect for the Comanche.

Overhead Prestwick, looking for runway 21.

Down at Prestwick. Parts picked up and loaded aboard. Time to kick the tyres and light the fires.

Time to go home, we set out for Leeds Bradford. The cloud once again built up over the Lake District. No problems, when overflying the Lake District, if the ground is partly or fully obscured by cloud, my mimimum safe altitude is 5000ft. The highest peak in the lakes is Scafell Pike at 3210ft and I like to give myself around 2000ft of air below. I will not go below 5000ft in cloud, unless it is an emergency.

The glass mountain. Scafell Pike hiding in the clouds ahead. You can just see the summit poking up. 1000s of airmen have died flying into glass mountains, so called because they are hidden by cloud and you cannot see them.

And finally back to a very foggy Leeds Bradford. Taxying in from runway 14. I have taxied down those very same taxyways in a Cessna 152 Aerobat and C 172 at least 30 times in real life back in the mid 1990s.

Route. Time logged, 4hrs, 01 mins.

[Tinkicker01]

James and I were sat in his office, dunking Chocolate digestives into milky coffee while “shooting down” an aircraft.

The aircraft in question was a Grumman AA5 and was a poster propped up against the waste paper bin. To shoot it down, one had to throw a dart at it and see where you hit. To complicate things, you had to keep your coffee mug in one hand, set the biscuit in the coffee and fire your dart before the rapidly softening biscuit dropped into your beverage. Even more of a complication was that we were sat down on chairs, had our backs to the poster and had to lob the darts over our shoulders.

If a dart struck the aircraft, the impact point was examined and likely damage determined. Of course a hit in the control run area or engine would deem the aircraft shot down, otherwise a hit in the general fuselage would just pass through one side and out of the other.

The phone rang..

Hi there! What, Nice! I think I may take this one myself.

James grinned. We have a starter motor for a Allison 250 and a Marvel Carb for a Lycoming 360 to deliver ASAP. I hope you packed your speedos, cos you are headed for Nice, weather allowing. James checked the weather while I made out an international flight plan. Cormelles (just north of Paris )- Lyon down by the Central Massif - LeLuc Le Cannet down in the Alp region of the Cote D’zore and finally Nice.

Hopefully the low level route through the alps will not be problematic.

Weather not great, but not terrible either. Time to go…

Nice in the south of France. A long way. I need full fuel and a plan to cross the Alps at night and in likely difficult weather.

Time to go. Wheels up around 13:00hrs and set course for the south coast. Almost as soon as the gear banged into its uplocks, we were in cloud. Nothing to see at all, so up we went and found the cloud tops around 6000ft. We continued up to 8500ft and droned south.

The cloud was expected to break up around Leicestershire, but nope, still 8/8ths cloud with the very occasional small hole down to the ground. I spotted a large lake through one and thought it may have been Rutland water.

In fact the cloud did not start to break until the Thames Estuary and the south coast.

Thames Estuary, crossing close to Southend. Northern Kent ahead.

We continue across Kent and the clouds are still breaking up. It is going to be a nice channel crossing for once. I elect to stay at 8500ft. If the engine failed, unless I was slap bang in the middle, I had the option of gliding back to land.

South coast and Dover ahead. Not the most direct route, but the shortest over water route.

Once over dry land, we turned south west for Cormelles and descend to my preferred altitude of 3000ft. The weather continued to be kind. By this point we have already travelled some 300 miles. My intention is to run the tip tanks almost dry. By my quick calculation, I will have to switch over to the main tanks at Cormelles.

Unfortunately, the good weather did not last. The cloud gradually thickened and by the time I reached Abbeville, I was running through heavy rain showers.

Abbeville Aerodrome. The second world war home of JG26 - Adolph Gallands Abbeville boys, flying their Messerschmit BF109s with the distinctive yellow noses.

I know that aerodrome well from bombing it in my IL2 cliffs of dover days. As soon as it was announced that I had dropped my bombs and damaged the airfield , every player flying a 109 within 20 miles would be hunting me down.

A Bristol Blenheim bomber is not the fastest steed in the world, so I had to drop down to treetop level and try to hide. Rarely did I make it back out of France. To make it worse, the flak gunners had xray eyes and would start pounding away at me. All the other players needed was to find an area of flak bursts and the game was up.

Abbeville, home of JG26 and their yellow nosed 109s.

We reach Cormelles, just to the north of Paris and set course for Lyon. I switch over to the main tanks and proceed over Paris.

The weather is attrocious. Sleet and heavy rain. To add insult to injury, we were also suffering from carb icing. So I had one eye on the manifold pressure gauge most of the way across Paris, although the weather meant that sightseeing was impossible.

We did see the Eifel Tower emerge briefely from the murk though. 215 miles to Lyon.

70 miles or so south of Paris, we emerged into better weather. About an hour to run to Lyon, but the sun was sinking fast. It is becoming very apparent that I will be negotiating the Grenoble / Auvergne Pass in the dark. I hope the weather holds. I will be sandwiched between the Cenral Massif to starboard and the Alps to port. Not a great situation to be in. I will be relying heavily on my GPS to warn me of terrain conflicts within 10 miles.

Still Aero White Van Man has to push it a little…

An hour to run before Lyon and the sun is setting.

We reach Lyon and set course for LeLuc army airfield. This should give me a straight shot down the pass. Once again the sleet and snow showers close in and it soon becomes obvious, GPS or not that I have a hard choice to make. To stay down in the pass in poor visibility, or climb over the terrain and into very probably icing conditions in the clouds. I deem it better to take a chance in the cloud.

Mountains to the left, mountains to the right and heavy snow showers. I am running out of options. I refuse to rely on the GPS to keep me safe. That is a very foolhardy thing to do.

We are at 5500ft and the GPS is festooned with amber and red terrain alerts. This is supposed to be the low level route…

Up we go again. At 10,000ft, the cloud is more broken and we are cruising through 4/8ths cloud. We are picking up a little ice on the wings, but nothing to be truly alarmed about. I think I will be out of the pass in 15 minutes and able to descend before it starts getting serious.

We start our 500fpm descent about 30 miles out from Le Luc and by the time we have reached 5000ft, the ice has melted and the gps is showing high terrain conflicts behind us. We made it just fine. The decision to go over the top was the correct one.

We turn East for Nice, just 40 miles to run.

We once again encounter heavy rain and I was almost over the airport before I saw the runway lights. Even more concerning was the fact that I kept seeing fleeting glimpses of landing lights in the cloud with me. Other traffic concealed in the cloud, not good, so I climb back up to 4000ft in the cloud and retreat, to give the other aircraft time to land.

Mission accomplished. Parts handed over to the agent and time for a beer. Time logged 5hrs, 22mins.

Nice Airport. Never got to see any of the the sights because of the weather.. What a swizz.

Route.

[Tinkicker01]

The phone buzzes on the bedside cabinet and I ignore it, pulling the pillow round my head. It buzzes again. Gdammit.

God me mouth tastes awful and sticky. Must be the french beer I sank last night. I pick up the phone, immediately drop it onto the floor, wince as I carefully inspect if the charger cable has hit the floor and damaged the charging port and finally answer.

Err hello.

A super cheerful voice at the other end. Hi sleepyhead, its James. Listen, have you any plans for the next few days?

Err, apart from flying home again, no.

Oh hit, I was hoping you were going to say yes. I was going to fly down to Nice by way of cattle class on cheapyjet and fly the Comanche for the next day or two. You were supposed to have plans and need to get back to the UK urgently via cheapyjet.
Now I have to attend a 40th birthday party. I absolutely hate dinner parties…

You and me both boss… I suppose I could have something urgent come up?

Nope, I am resigned to my fate of making smalltalk with insufferable bores, probably history teaching, real ale officianados wearing green corduroy jackets.. Besides, Pete is quite keen that you do the flight, the whole thing was his idea. He wants you ready and up to speed for the ferry flying season.

What is the mission?

We have a very expensive parts order come in. There is a Cessna Citation 5, stuck on Skiathos with engine problems. You know the one, the one with the captain looking like he is Tom Cruise, strutting around our ramp with a timepiece on his wrist as big as the town hall clock?

The blue one?

Yup, that’s the baby.
A small team of our engineers are assembling to fly out to Skiathos on Jet 2 to effect repairs and get him on his way.
Unfortunately Jet 2 will not carry some of their equipment because it is designed to hold flammable gas under pressure.
I have arranged to have fedex fly the equipment out to Rome on the quiet, where you will pick it up, arrange to have the gas replenished and fly it to Skiathos.
Where and how you achieve that is up to you.
Pete is keen to treat this as a ferry flight training session. You are on the clock and on your own unless it is an emergency.

Skiathos? That is the island with the really short runway?

Short if you are the captain of a 747 for sure. Piloting a Comanche 250, not so much… Enjoy yourself, meanwhile, I shall be sat here, chained to this desk and attending dinner parties…

Holy Crow… Italy and Greece.. And getting paid!

I better get cracking and wash my socks and knickers in the sink. I wonder if the company credit card runs to new undergarments?

I make out my flight plan and submit it to the ATC guys in the tower. Weather is going to be pretty bad most, if not all the way to Rome. It is banging it down.
Nevermind, things can only improve.

I call for the fuel truck and fill her to the brim with 100LL. Ouch, the bill is absolutely mindblowing. It is obvious that very deep pockets fill up here.
I sign the fuel docket with a flourish and proceed to check the drains for water.

No water and the fuel is blue. Good enough for me. I continue with the walkaround. No problems. Oil is at 9 quarts and still looking fresh, so I get a bottle of Aeroshell and upend it over the dipstick tube. 10 quarts should be fine. It holds 12 quarts, but this particular aircraft has a habit of blowing oil out of the breather if it is filled right up.

In I get and look at my watch. 10 minutes to my takeoff slot, perfect. Why I need a slot I have no idea. Nothing has moved in the last half hour.

Battery on. Fuel selectors checked on. Fuel boost pump on.
Mags on. We have fuel pressure, so pump off. Unscrew the primer and give her six pumps, glance at the oat gauge showing five degrees C, and give her two more for good measure.
Prop control to full fine, check parking brake is set and open the throttle a quarter inch. Crank her over. After five blades, I quickly open the throttle halfway and pull it back to just open again.

The fires light and we have oil pressure. We have fuel pressure.
Set RPM to 1000 to let her warm.
Flick on the avionics master switch and the autopilot switch.
Check alternator gauge. We have 30 amps showing, so a good charge. Nine litres of aero engine certainly takes its toll on the small battery when cranking.

I input the waypoints into the nav system and the engine oil is now nice and warm.
Quick mag check and cycle the prop twice to check it holds RPMs as set, and get warm oil into the governor.
Make sure the flaps are up fully and look at my watch. (also a very complicated timepiece as large as a town hall clock, much to James’s amusement).

Time to taxi out to the runway. Runway 04 in this case.
Prop set fine and smoothly open the throttle to 23" MP. I never like to give her the whole lot.
As soon as we break ground and are sure of a positive rate of climb, its gear up and goodbye Nice. Once over the departure end, I throttle back to 21" MP, reduce the revs to 2000 and lean the mixture a little.
I am kind to the engine and it loves me for it.

!Again, as yesterday, once we are at 500ft we are in heavy cloud and rain. No sightseeing whatsoever. I am in the proximity of mountains well over 10,000ft high, hidden in cloud and staying low is a luxury I cannot afford. Throttle set to 23" and RPM to 2300. Nicely squared, up we go at 1000fpm. The rear cylinder temps are rising, so I give it full rich.

11,000 ft. In cloud and nothing to see. I know we are hugging the coast and that is about it. No looking down in envy over monaco, or Monte Carlo, nor indeed, enjoying the grand majesty of the Alps, Just grey with the occasional patch of blue above.

We reach Genoa and the clouds look like they may be breaking a little. I check the GPS to confirm we are over water and start a 500fpm descent.

Levelling off at 3000ft, still in the murky depths of cloud and heavy rain when suddenly it clears. I see the coastline, consult my map to see where we are exactly and confirm my position as approaching Portofino.

Overflying Portofino, looking inland. Not sure of the name of the nearby town. It is bricking it down.

Back in heavy cloud and rain again, I stay out over water, hugging the coastline.
Northern Italy is amazingly mountainous. I very occasionally get to see a bit of ground.
No screenshot chances again until I come closer to Livorno.
I know it is Livorno in the distance, due to its scythe shaped breakwater.

The rain becomes regular showers, not the constant downpour it has been.

Livorno. Still a depressing view, but far better than before.

We continue on. The sun has set and it is now twilight. I pass a large island conected to the mainland by two large causways. No idea what it is called, but the map says a town on it is called Porto Ercole.
At least the rain has subsided to scattered showers.

Twilight near Porto Ercole.

As we approach Rome Da Vinchi, it is very clear that it is a very busy airport. The landing lights of airliners were lined up for miles on their approach. I counted at least four.
It appears that runway 16L was in use for landing, so I selected 16R.
With my 85mph approach speed, I did not need a 100 tonne airliner ramming me up the chuff.

I tried an experimental feed from the left eye of my headset for the screenshot.
For sure the image is far sharper and the stupid “aids” are no longer a thing, but being just one eye, the field of view is very small.

On approach to 16R. Leonardo da Vinchi Airport, Rome.

And we are at Rome. Was quite a trial finding a parking spot. I saw two, only for them to get pinched by the big boys before I got there. Rome is a huge airport. Very easy to get lost on the taxiways without a chart.
Of course I got lost…

Route. Sadly the best parts in thick cloud. Spending the night in Rome and continuing on tomorrow. Blue circles on map are screenshot locations.

Tomorrows flight plan will be Naples, Gallipoli, Corfu and Skiathos.

[lexmirnov]

Great story as always! By the way, the “aids” can be turned off: Settings - General - Flight Interface - Cockpit Camera - HUD in Cockpit View.

[Tinkicker01]

I awake to a very nice morning. Sunny with broken cloud. 14 degrees.

Time to go flying if the guys at Naya Aircraft Services did their job and regassed the engineers equipment. Pity Skiathos does not have onsite servicing facilities, then again I would not be getting this holiday, err mission if they had.

Coffee drunk, I go through security, get airside and walk out to the aircraft. Several cases of equipment are placed on the wing. Great, they did it.

I put all the equipment into the baggage compartment and dust off my hands.

I guess we are ready to go.

As an afterthought, I go back to the baggage compartment and remove a piddle pack from my flight bag..
It is going to be a long flight and that Italian Breakfast coffee was very strong. Better have it to hand, just in case.

I also remove my new aquisition. A small oxygen cylinder with a regulator and a mouthpiece.
About the size of a hairspray can, it can provide hits of supplementary oxygen for a couple of hours, providing you only take a couple of breaths out of it a minute.
£10 on sale at Sportys Pilot Shop. Bargain!
I doubt I will need it, I have no intention of going much above 10,000ft. But be prepared…

Equpment cases and flight bag re-stowed and it is time to kick the tyres and light the fires.

We set course for Naples and have a small range of hills to climb over. I climb up to 4000ft in plenty of time and cruise along. I look to the altimeter, it is showing 4080ft. Don, my old instructor would have had my guts for garters. I SAID 4000ft, Not 4080ft.

I ease her down again to 4000ft exactly.

Don’s spirit is still not happy… A thought slides into my head from the left and prods my brain… You call that flying by the numbers do you, what heading are you flying?

I fold my arms and sulk. Not bovvered. Not changing it now. I can be a stubborn sob. I had forgotten that little nugget over the last 30 years, it was only thinking of " flying by the numbers" that brought it to mind.

Flying by the numbers… Not.

We continue on. The broken 4/8ths cloud is lowering a little, so I climb over the top of it and settle to a cruise once more.
We cross Naples and look down the throat of Mt Vesuvius before setting course for Gallipoli.

Looking down the throat of Vesuvius. This time we are " flying by the numbers".

Crossing the Apennines, we are once again forced higher by the cloud.and rising terrain ahead, right up to 9000ft. 7000ft was not going to cut it.

We have crossed Italy and are now proceeding down the heel of the “boot”.
I am keeping a lookout for something I once saw from an airliner window on my way to Kefalonia for my hols.
I did not know what I was seeing at the time, but now know it is the ex Fiat, and now Porsche high speed vehicle test track. Manufacturers from around Europe take their prototypes there for testing.

The Nardo Ring.

And we carry on down the coast. I do my 15 minute round the cockpit check and get a rough running engine when I pull the carb heat. Great. Carb icing. Something else to think about. Then I come across a wonder of FS2024. A perfect rainbow, it looked absolutely real and was pretty astonishing the way it moved with the position of the viewer.

The sim has its myriad faults, but at times it can be absolutely breathtaking. I did not bother with a screenshot because it would not have done it justice.

Then we come to the infamous town and beaches of Gallipoli. Hundeds of Thousands of Turkish and Allied soldiers died in that hellhole during WW1.

We then cross the heel and set course for Corfu.
70 miles of Ionian sea to cross. Not a pleasing prospect.
I climbed to 5500ft, running just under the cloudbase.
Very boring, droning away on autopilot. We also had a 20 mph headwind to contend with.
I switched over to the main tanks, having just about exhausted the tip tanks.
Instead of picking up a book like most pilots do on boring legs across the water, it gave me time to make the route map for the end of this story.

A sight for sore eyes. Corfu after a long overwater leg.

The cloud was once again waiting for me over Corfu. A very fearsome cloud. I tighten my seat belts, kick off the autopilot and prepare to take a beating.

It was a bit turbulent to say the least. Up and down, left to right, wings bending and oilcanning like crazy. Then as quick as it started, it was over. A break in the cloud, Corfu airport below and then I was once again over the Ionian, headed for Greece.

Fearsome Cloud just waiting..

We cross the mainland coast and knowing the Pindus mountain range is ahead, I set the terrain scope for 35 miles ahead and climb to 7000ft.

With almost complete angry red and a few amber colours appearing on the scope ahead, it is clear that 7000ft is not going to cut it.

I climb to 9000ft. Still almost all angry red. Not cutting it.

I climb to 11,000ft. Still much yellow and occasional red about.

No choice but to go to 13,000ft. At last we are clear of the terrain. I did not expect that, I though 7000ft was enough.

Then we were over, I could see flat plains and fields below, the coastline in the distance and was able to throttle back to 15" and trim her for a 500fpm descent.

A very big surprise.

By the time we reached the East coast of Greece, our 500fpm descent had brought us down to 3000ft again, Skiathos was in sight with Skopolos behind it. Skopolos was where they filmed Mama Mia, and if you ever visit Skiathos, the locals make sure you never forget it.

And down on Skiathos, pulled up to a truly horrible, default terminal building. It looks more eastern bloc than greek. I did try to get the just flight skiathos airport pack, but it is not 2024 ready yet.

Route. And no I did not need the piddle pack…

Time logged. 4hrs 13 mins.

[Tinkicker01]

I cleared immigration and hoisted my flight bag up onto my shoulder and made for the arrival hall exit. I was in very familiar territory.

Unlike previous times though, there were no smiling holiday reps waiting to show me to the hotel shuttle bus, I was on my own. No problem though, the hotel I was staying at this time was in Skiathos Town, and a mere 500 yard walk away from the airport.

I walked down the road, past a low wall and smiled.

I recall sitting on that wall many times, trying not to get blown off by the jetblast of passenger jets going to full takeoff power on the other side of the airport fence.

Today, the weather is a bit different though. Broken cloud and just 6C.

I checked into the hotel and had a look in the bar to see if the boys had arrived yet. Yep, there they were in the corner, four of them huddled around a table. Two sooties, a sparks and a tin basher. A comprehensive crew indeed. Must be quite a task they have, repairing the ailing engine and not cheap either, Pratt and Whitney are not known for selling discounted parts.

I was greeted like a long lost son. What on earth has got into them? Then the truth was out. I had the company credit card. I was to be the provider of food, drink and be the chief purser. No wonder they were relieved to see me.

The week passed without incident and the lads quickly had the aircraft running once more, we were just waiting for the flight crew to fly in to give it a flight test, so we had time to hire a car and check out the island.

No one else had been on the island previously and I knew it very well, so not only was I quartermaster and purser, I was now a tour guide.

I found it a slightly depressing experience, almost all of my old haunts were closed up for the winter and the weather remained cloudy and cold. Skiathos was practically deserted. Only Skiathos Town had any life going on. Apparently those that ran businesses on the island retreated to Skiathos Town out of the tourist season, or went back to their families in Athens.

I did find one oft frequented taverna still open on Troulos beach that catered to the locals during the winter, but again it was a slightly deressing experience. I sat inside, nursing a cold mythos and looking out of the window at the deserted patio right on the beach. I looked at the spot where my usual sunny table was situated and of course it wasn’t there. Just an empty space on a sand, leaf and empty paint tin strewn patio in dire need of a good sweep.

The once pristine beach was heaped with piles of dead seagrass washed up by the winter storms… I sighed.

I was really missing my missus. I will be glad to get home.

The very same missus, six months after we first met, way back in 1995 that started me out on my aviation story.

I had always been mad about aircraft and had bookcases full of books about aviation. Of course, I could not become a pilot because a friend at school who was an air cadet told me that all pilots needed 20:20 vision and I needed to wear glasses in class.

Birthday 1995 and the soon to be missus presented me with a wet and chewed up envelope. Yes the dog had eaten it… I opened it and removed a somewhat tattered and chewed ticket. It said I was to report to knightair ( soon to be multiflight), for a 1hr trial lesson in a light aircraft at my earliest convenience.

Fun fact: if you had the original analogue Sky TV before Sky digital came out, the receiving equipment was manufactured by Pace Electronics in Bradford and the owner of Pace kept his Cessna Citation V at knightair. And yes, he did have a timepiece on his wrist as big as the town hall clock. All my stories and characters have a large element of truth about them.

In any case, he ended up purchasing knightair from a distraught owner and transformed it from a fairly small aircraft service operation, tiny commuter airline serving the oil industry, flight training center and flying club, to the huge global operation it was to become.

Happened just a few months before I arrived on the scene at knightair and the atmosphere was still pretty gloomy.

Knight Air Flight 816

I duly turned up and it turned out that years of reading hundreds of books about aviation, and daily daydreams about flying had equipped me for just the occasion.

Once we were in the air in a C152 aerobat, and the controls handed over to me, it transpired that I could fly well. It was all so natural. The only surprising thing was just how sensitive the controls were. No pushing and pulling manfully on the yoke, or jerking the stick around the cockpit like in the movies. A slight pressure was enough to effect big changes in direction. Keep it light and keep it smooth…fingertips only.

I asked the instructor about wearing contacts or glasses and it turns out my know all schoolmate had given me false information. My flying career could have started when I first started work and had money to spend on flying lessons. I am an idiot for taking him at his word. I could have been a commercial pilot by then, not repairing trucks and heavy excavators.

I broke out of my reverie by a ringing phone. The flight crew had arrived and it was back to business.

Time to load up and get back to the missus.

Todays flight plan is overfly Vienna then on to Munich. Weather for Vienna and Munich is pretty much ideal, so should be an easy flight.

We take off from Skiathos in 5/8ths broken cloud and head out on our first leg of 640 miles and 4 hrs duration. I was looking forward to a little sightseeng. Greece is my very favourite place in the world and I was looking forward to seeing as much of its coastline as possible.

Unfortunately, as ever, the cloud had other ideas. The broken 5 octas became 7 octas and I had to almost immediately start the climb above them. Glass mountains everywhere.

Once again the cloud denied any low level sightseeing opportunities. It demanded that I climb above. Glass mountains hiding in the clouds ahead, just waiting to snatch me out of the sky.

100 miles or so later, the clouds are breaking up as forecast and we enter clear air. I descend to 4000ft in the hope of a little sightseeing on this long journey. Unfortunately the terrain scope is showing pretty solid reds ahead, and it is clear that it is pointless staying low. Be professional, not a tourist. I have to climb again. Flying low over mountains in a single engine light aircraft is a good way to die.

Engine failure over mountains is a big concern. In addition, anabatic and katabatic winds can cause all sorts of dire maladies for light aircraft, from sudden cloud and icing to wind rotors and downdraughts that will easily pluck an aircraft from the sky.

Terrain everywhere. I cannot stay here. What a pity. I can hear Don now.. You are supposed to be a professional pilot, not a bloody tourist. Get with the program..

We are in a very mountainous part if the world. People think of mountains and think it is just the Alps. In actual fact, most of southern europe is mountainous.

I have to stay well above the peaks for 500 miles or more.

Crossing the point where Serbia, Bosnia and Croatia meet. The sun is on its way down.

We drone on. The sun has now set and we are crossing Hungary. I left the moutains behind, and I can let down and enjoy the flight. The moon is out and it is a beautiful evening for flying. I lean forward and look up through the windshield. There above is the milky way in all its majesty. Stunning. Unfortunately, what I can see in the headset is way too faint for a screenshot to pick up. I did try.

A lovely evening approaching lake balaton in northern Hungary. A strong tailwind means my SoG is 195mph. Wheeeeee!

It is long past beer oclock on a Saturday evening by now. The missus is asking how long I will be before landing just as I turn towards Munich. Munich is 198 miles. Well over an hour.

Change of plan. I will stay the night in Vienna. I wheel the aircraft around and enter the traffic pattern for Vienna Airport.

Decisive turn over downtown Vienna. What would be called in civil aviation as an “unusual attitude”.

And down in Vienna. Time for a beer. 640 miles and 4hrs 16mins logged. My backside is absolutely numb from sitting in my pit so long.

Route. Proposed portion in yellow is sacrificed on the alter of beer. It means a far longer flight home tomorrow. So be it

[Tinkicker01]

A quick note once again because at times the posts may become confusing or “teaching grandma how to suck eggs”.

I reiterate that this is because these posts are aimed squarely at non pilot motorcyclists on another forum who enjoy my stories of flying at the edge of disaster.

I copy and paste the posts on here to provide a little light entertainment and to get away from all the moaning.
My stories are intended to showcase just how fantastic this sim can be with a little effort in avoiding its pitfalls and using a little imagination.
The sim is far from perfect and should not have been released in the state it was in, yet when it works correctly, it is stunning and as an unpopular viewpoint it is, Asobo have made something that is pretty astounding.
Needs a heck of a lot of work yet to bring it to the state it should have been on release, but nevertheless, still pretty astounding.

My stories are posted on the motorcycle forum in dribs and drabs as the flight progresses and the post is edited and added to as I drone on in digital skies, but sometimes someone posts a comment or several comments mid flight and I have to break the post up into several portions to accomodate them.

This is why sometimes, I appear to be talking to myself, but no, I just do not include others contributions and collate all the separate segments into the one post on here.

No intention of teaching anyone reading on here how to suck eggs!

Back to the story… There are a couple waiting in the wings.

[Tinkicker01]

Once again I ran out of time and instead of heading home, I put down near Calais. Twas a much longer flight than anticipated. This was last Sunday.

I forget the details, but there was nothing special going on throughout the flight, so I will just include some screenshots of the run north west towards blighty. In the interests of continuity, I am just about to embark on the last leg back to Leeds. Weather seems OK. Overcast, Ceiling 2000ft and a 11kt wind down runway 32.

Flying over Austria, nice and sunny weather and the Danube, indeed appears to be blue.. I made a beeline for Stuttgart instead of heading to Munich to cut down on the time of flight.

Stuttgart made and set sail for Brussels… Did not see any sign of the Porsche factory, but then I did not know what to look out for.

Overflying Luxembourg. I took the screenshot for a reason, but it escapes me.. All the pic caption says is “luxembourg”.

We come to Brussels and set course for Calais. By now it is very apparent I am out of time and will have to put down near the French coast. This time around, I was going to write up the story after I landed, but unfortunately this did not happen. A week later and the screenshots make about as much sense to me as they do to you.
Apologies for a very sub par tale..

“Brussels”

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I was riding the train south to St Pancras, therin to catch the Euro star to Calais, thence a taxi to the local airfield where the Comanche has been sat all week.

Poor weather over the UK inc low cloud, moist air and freezing conditions at low altitude meant that attempting to fly home would be a final mistake.

I arrive at the aircraft, give it a thorough pre flight, throw my flight bag on the rear seat and strap myself in. Fuel valves to tip tanks, battery on, fuel boost pump on, check fuel pressure.

We have good fuel pressure, the tip tanks are feeding correctly. Fuel pump off.

Prop condition to fine.

Unscrew the primer and give her six pumps, screw it back in again.

Mags to both and hit the starter button. count five blades, quickly advance the throttle half way and quickly return it to just cracked open. I have found this to be the best way to start this particular aircraft. Every one is different.

Check oil pressure is rising, set throttle to maintain 1000rpm to let her warm up. Lean mixture to avoid plug fouling and misfires.

Oil warm, set rpm to 2000 and bring the prop back to 1500 rpm. Observe to ensure she holds it. Back to 2000rpm, observe that it returns to as originally set. Back to 1400 rpm and repeat the process. We have a good prop governor with nice warm oil in it now.

Mags. Switch from both to right. 100rpm drop. Good mag. Switch to both. 100rpm rise. Switch to left mag. 100rpm drop, again a good mag, back to both. Check fuel and oil pressure once again, both good. Final check of oil temp and we are ready for taxi clearance to the runway.

Off we go, from a slightly misty France, headed for blighty. I take her up to 4000ft to clear the fog bank and see the UK coastline ahead.

UK coast ahead. Dover straight ahead, Folkstone to the left after the left hand cliffs end and Deal would be to the right, out of screenshot.

I head closer to London before setting course for Leeds this time, I want a change of scenery. I turn onto direct heading for Leeds somewhere close to Maidstone and cross the Thames just to the east of Gravesend and Tilbury.

Then a bit of excitement. By this time the overcast had appeared and forced me down to 3000ft, where I droned on quite happily just below the cloud layer…

The autopilot gave a beep, it was asking for more nose up trim. a glance at the ASI showed me the bad news. The airspeed had dropped from 160mph to 140mph with no change to throttle settings. A quick look out of the side window showed why.

We were in a shower of freezing rain and it was building quickly on the wing leading edges and the side window. Since the Comanche will not carry enough ice to fill a whisky tumbler, we had to descend to warmer air quick smart, so down we go to 1000ft.

Clear ice rapidly building on wing leading edge and side window. A big surprise, I never considered I was in ice conditions. No warning whatsoever.

The ice melted and the outside temp gauge showed warmer air in the St Neots area.

I thought St Neots was Milton Keynes originally, based purely on the large number of roundabouts I could see, but a look at the map showed a town with river on western side, a lake to the south and a large lake a few miles to the north to actually be St Neots.

Aviation charts do not bother with names of towns and cities as they are irrelevant. they only give you airfields as it is only airfields that you can land on, so unless I look at a conventional map, I have no idea what that large city i just flew over actually is. I can hazard an educated guess, but that is it.

We continue on and arrive over Leeds at low level. I turn mode C on the transponder off, lest I get a telling off from Leeds approach for low flying, although I was still technically legal, I was also, being an international flight, flying on an IFR flight plan.

Low level over Leeds. Elland Road, home of Leeds United in the foreground. I am at a little over 1500ft, so technically still legal.

And finally home after a grueling round trip of 3600 nautical miles and 20 hours flight time.

Finally, you may wonder how detailed and “correct” the ground details are that are not visible from a higher altitude.

Judge for yourself. Real Elland Road.. albeit, on a less gloomy day.

---

Change in airflow over the aircraft structure. Huge increase in drag and lower lift generated by the wing due to the altered airfoil shape. In addition, loss of lift requires a higher angle of attack, leading to yet more drag. Also, the propellor, also an airfoil, just turned 90 degrees to the wing and spinning to create “lift” is also subject to ice accretion, which destroys its efficiency for converting engine power to thrust.

Remember Xmas eve over Iceland? Full emergency power could not keep her in the air, even in level flight.

As I stated before, the Comanche cannot carry enough ice to fill a whisky glass.

Well it looks like I am grounded due to the weather this weekend. Not worth the risk.. I think I will take a holiday in Florida or somewhere else warm and sunny this weekend.

Poor viz, low cloud and freezing fog according to the Leeds Bradford Metar.

[Tinkicker01]

The phone rings… Hello its James..

Hi

Listen, I want you to accompany my wife down to Corfu. We have a private charter jet to relocate..

A jet?

That’s the general idea.

But your wife is an airline pilot…

Is she? I had rather forgot.. pillock. Yes she is a 737 Max pilot and is going to relocate this aircraft for us. I want you to go along as second dicky. she will give you a check ride on the basics on the way. Be sure that is all she gives you…

At my age? Chance would be a fine thing.

I know, but to be sure, i laced your coffee with Bromide this morning… feeling OK?

But I know nothing about 737s, only ever sat in the back of one.

You will get the hang of it. Goodbye bzzz.

James has been very generous with this flight, essentially a free day out at the owners expense. wonder how we will get home?

So I find myself sat in the captains seat of a Boeing 737 max, looking at a bewildering display of controls. At least I have a very attractive young lady to keep me company..

I think flying it will not be a problem, I have thousands of hours of fast military jet time, but the autopilot navigation systems and finding corfu???

I have a very steep learning curve ahead.

Sat at end of runway 32 complete with a little eye candy.. albeit a do not touch one. Will I survive, or will I have to start another character at zero hours if I kill myself.. At least the eye candy knew how to start the thing up..

Well, managed to get it staggering into the air, figured out out to use the basic functions of the autopilot and here we are at cruise level, 34,000ft, a few miles shy of the south coast; headed in the general direction of Corfu at .76 mach.

A bewildering cockpit, but I managed to find the cruise checklist and was able to find and switch on all that should be on, and all that should be off.

Yes, not bad is she? Sat here in the cockpit in VR, she is incredibly realistic,
even her movements look natural. James is a very lucky man.

Just crossing the Alps. Absolutely no angst whatsoever, unlike the commanche. Fuel is going to be a concern, its going to be tight. Did not know we only had a partial fuel load until after takeoff and had time to find the gauges… Once we hit Northern Italy, I am going to start a slow descent.

No, I would not be so stupid unless in an emergency if there were no other alternatives.
This is a default aircraft, it is made as a compromise for a variety of different users. I doubt very much that its flight characteristics in any way match the real life 737, esp in the landing phase.
Takeoff, no problem. open the throttles. watch the gauges, keep her straight and pull back on the yoke at the right time and keep her on a reasonable climb rate.
Mid flight, again no problem, you are on autopilot for the most part.

Landing is where the wheat is sorted from the chaff. There are paid for third party aircraft that will be far closer to the landing behaviour of the real thing.

No, I am (was) primarily a military single seat jet pilot. I have many aircraft in my hanger, but the one I have the most hours in is the A10C Warthog, over 1000hrs sat in that aircraft.
My entire rig is set out to emulate the warthog cockpit, from the replica warthog stick and throttles, to the switches set out around me in the correct places, so I operate the hog using real switches, not by clicking a mouse.

Of course, most civil aircraft have control yokes, not sticks, so no, in that regard, it is not realistic at all.
Also my throttles are on the left and the Comanche / 737 throttles are on the right, so I hold the stick in my right hand, whereas civil aircraft would require my to provide steering guidance with my left hand.
You can buy replica yokes and throttles to fly these big jets, but I am not invested enough in civil aviation to splash out on them. Besides, it would mean dismantling my hog pit.

The Hog. Yes, we have had real A10 pilots on DCS that have stated that the flight model is pretty much spot on in general handling and that if you have had basic real life flight training, use VR and have experience of your controls set out correctly as I have, an experienced DCS hog pilot would be able to fly a real life Hog.
The only fly in the ointment would be the throw of the stick. I have a couple of stick extensions fitted, but it is still not as long as the real hog stick, so the stick throw would be different, however, that comes down to “feeling” the aircraft. Not a biggie.

But I am not stupid enough to want to try…

And down we are at corfu. She says I conducted myself professionally throughout the flight, but my landing was a bit of a white knuckler.

Still, nothing broken and it was my first ever 737 landing.

The 737 is a ponderous beast when you get low and slow, but you get there in the end. I know just enough about her to get myself killed…

Backtracking towards the Corfu passenger terminal.

I told the missus about my new copilot. Under no circumstances, am I allowed to share a cockpit with her ever again..
Apparently, sharing a cockpit with a fun loving aviation expert , one who enjoys a laugh, and also happens to be very pretty is not a good thing…

[Tinkicker01]

Well how we were going top get back to blighty has been unceremoniously resolved. It nearly killed the both of us.

I have not had an in flight emergency of such epic proportions since I was in combat over the Euphrates Dam and got stitched real good by a ZSU 23…

Met Debs in the hotel breakfast room and it transpires that she had a conversation with James last night. It transpires that an elderly Cessna 404 needed ferrying back to the UK. James, you devious git. It was never the mini break I thought it was. Debs needs to get home for her airline schedule, so it is going to be a very long flight home.
Debs is as surprised as I am. She does not look overly pleased.

So we trundle up to have a look at this page of ancient history. The engineer approaches us and tells the sorry tale. It has been parked on the ramp, unused for the last five years and has just been sold to a UK aerial survey company and needs ferrying back to the UK.

I ask if it will fly?

Oh yes, I have changed the oil and run up both engines and checked the essential systems. Fuel, electrical power and props all fine.

Are you going to accompany me on the test flight?

Oh no, I cannot, I get terribly air sick.

Hmm.

Look, I will start the engines for you.

In he jumps and both engines start up immediately. Well it sounds reasonably healthy… He jumps out and looks at me expectantly.

Well, I suppose I ought to give it a chance. Debs jumps straight in. " Cmon, it is an adventure".

Manly pride comprehensively dented, i reluctantly climb in.

Man, what a shed.

Only the very best in 1970s technology in here.

OK, here we go, I advance the throttles and gallop down the runway. She sounds fit enough and the gauges are steady. We climb up to 4000ft and i start checking the systems.

Autopilot. Inop apparently. Not good. I am liking this less and less.

I switch on the deicing system and look out the window to watch the de icing boots pulse. Nothing. De ice inop.

I look to the gauges and find that number two prop has fallen out of sync a little. I pull it back into sync. It falls out of sink again.

I look to the manifold pressure gauge, that too is out of sync, we are losing the engine. Fuel pressure looks good, so it is not a cracked injector pipe, it must be eating its turbo.

I start the turn back from whence we came. The engine suddenly gave a few backfires and the manifold pressure dropped like a rock.

No choice but to cut the ignition and feather the prop. I advance the throttle on the left engine and run the prop right to the top of the non emergency max allowable setting and hope she stays within the single engine control speed.

We gingerly continue our turn into the live engine, all the while keeping well away from the edge of the single engine min speed envelope. If we cross it, I will have to pull the power on the good engine, dive to increase sufficient speed and increase power again, or failing that, ditch into the sea. Thankfully I have a few knots to play with.

I pull out of the turn and we start to pick up a little airspeed, then I find a biggie.. A HUGE bug. Asymmetric thrust is not modelled. Instead of burying my foot deep into the left rudder pedal to maintain course, nothing. It flies along as innocently at 130kts as on two engines. That is one hell of a miss.

Right engine stopped and prop feathered. She behaves as if nothing happened. No rudder trim required. She will not spin out of the sky, no matter how the speed drops. That is a HUGE miss by the devs.

Coming down the pipe towards the field again, I find another lovely failure waiting in the wings. Barrelling down the pipe at 140kts, I pull back on the left throttle to slow down. No change in sound from the left engine. I look to the manifold pressure gauge. 35 inches as before.

I pull the throttle all the way back, the gear horn blares. I look at the gauge - 35 inches. The throttle is jammed almost wide open.

I glance over at Debs and see her eyes are getting wider and wider, she is clearly terrified. I wish I stopped her from coming along. I feel very saddened for her.

I have one more trick in my bag of experience..

As we approach the runway threshold, still at 140kts, I cut the mags on the left engine, drop the gear and flaps and cross control her to shed as much speed as possible. I fear those probably dry rotted tyres will blow, and if so, I will not be able to keep her on the runway. Since there are large bodies of water either side of the runway, that means going for a swim.

She touches down with a large puff of tyre smoke and I stand on the brakes, We floated a long way down the runway and the end is fast approaching.

And down. Left engine is ticking and clicking furiously as it cools down. We used over 3/4 of the runway to get down and stopped.

A frightened and very tearful Debs. She got out of the aircraft, and from what I can gather from her very sweary phone call to her husband, James will be sleeping in the spare room for quite a while. So now we wait for a scheduled flight to get us home.