A New Year Begins

Well, I looked back at 2006, and I'm mostly very happy with how things went.

Firstly, Kim & I had our baby daughter, Sophie. I'm quite taken with her. I just don't ever get sick of playing with her, making her smile, singing silly songs to her, and blowing rasberries on her tummy. She's great, and her arrival was definitely the most significant event of 2006 for me.

But also, 2006 was my first full year of aircraft ownership, having acquired Squibby in November 2005. For the first two months, Squibby was basically out of action, needing a full engine overhaul. But since then, it's been back in action.

Perth had its driest year on record in 2006. Is this climate change? Or just a statistically inevitable minima, which looks like the worst ever because we haven't kept records very long, on the scale of human history. I don't know, but I don't like it. My gut tells me our climate is changing, but I don't know if it's statistically provable yet. But it did give us extraordinarily good flying weather for Autumn and the start of Winter - cool, crisp, still air and crystal clear skies, day in, day out. We had some great flying then.

It has been the most consistent period of flying I've ever done. Not the most intense - when I was doing my Navigation course I was flying for a few hours every day. But the most regular. I flew on average about once per fortnight. In the past, my logbook is full of gaps of 6 months, 12 months, or more! Now, I don't have any real gaps like that.

One thing I did notice was that my flying dropped off in the second half of the year. Part of this can be attributed to the fact that I had become a father. A new baby meant some sleepless nights, a new range of stresses and concerns, and a total change in lifestyle which took some getting used to. I no longer felt as free to 'pop out' for a few hours, if it meant Kim was stranded with Sophie, unable to get any assistance from me.

But as 'the mook', as she is known, grew a bit, and we got used to her, our life started to feel more normal. Kim and I are now both able to get out of the house for reasonable lengths of time.

However, my flying hours still dropped off. In fact, I only flew Squibby once in December, despite it being sunny just about every day. Why is this? I think I stopped doing new things. I wasn't doing any training, I wasn't doing anything new, I was just doing little hops over to Rottnest. Rottnest is great fun, but I wasn't doing anything different. I hate to say it, but I got a bit bored. This is probably not surprising - I'm still learning what it's like to own an aircraft. Like learning to exercise, or eat healthily, I think it's a case of learning good habits.

So for 2007, I'm planning to mix it up a bit. I might do some more training, a new rating, or just try to get to some new locations. Give myself some more reasons to fly.

Denmark via Bunbury

Back last year, I went to Rottnest with my friend Rob. Subsequently, I took his delightful mother for a flight.

Well, now Rob and I needed to get down to Denmark, because we were looking at buying a property down there, as a partnership. I have already decided that for 2007, I would find more reasons to fly, and here is a perfect one. If we can do one nice property deal down there, which we wouldn't have done without Squibby, then that basically pays for the aircraft. Can I make Squibby pay for itself? Wouldn't that be great - turning aircraft ownership on its head. Most private aircraft owners think of an aircraft as something which costs them money. Wouldn't it be great if Squibby made me money?

Because of time constraints, we decided to make it a single day trip. Denmark is 2-3 hours away in Squibby, so it's quite a lot of flying. I decided that we would get an early start, get the clear air, then an afternoon flight back. The day was scheduled to be hot. Weather was predicted to be 40 degrees C (104 deg F), so the afternoon return flight was always going to be hot and potentially uncomfortable. By his own admission, Rob is not a morning person. I was pushing for a 7am departure, we were able to agree on 7:45am. He said the earlier it was, the grumpier he would be.

I'm not normally up this early.

I happened to have a terrible night sleep. I was doing my flight planning the night before, and my head was buzzing by the time I got to bed. Sometimes, if I'm thinking about things, I am not good at winding down. I tried every trick, reading, making myself a Milo, having an early-hour-of-the-morning snack, controlling my breathing, but nothing worked. I got very little sleep, and was wide awake long before my 5:45am alarm went off. I got to Jandakot at 7, half-an-hour before Rob was due to arrive. I did the preflight and filled the tanks full, so we'd be ready to leave as soon as Rob arrived.

I've got a brand new battery, which I installed during the week. It definitely made starting much easier - the propellor just cranked a lot faster than usual. There was a very loud buzzing when we started. At first I thought it was the radio, but then I realised it was the stall warning. When I tested the switch on the preflight, something must have stuck inside. I reluctantly shut down the engine, and got Rob to go out and fiddle with the switch. Problem solved, then back in, and away we go. Because of our early departure, the tower was not open, so Jandakot was operating as a CTAF. This was a first for me, but since I had checked procedures with an instructor during the week, I knew what to do.

Last time I went to Denmark, we took an inland route, via Kojonup. This time I thought we'd try staying coastal down to Bunbury, then make a left turn. This turned out to be a good route - the trip down to Bunbury is very pleasant, not to mention very easy navigation (important, since my GPS is not set up at the moment). The air was completely still, the sun was low in the sky out to the east, and we drifted smoothly over Rockingham, the Mandurah, and sailed in over Bunbury.

I wasn't sure if Rob was bored - I thought he'd love the coastal trip, but he didn't seem so interested. Then I realised that he had drifted off to sleep. I took it as a vote of confidence. From Bunbury we veered left, and tracked out next to Donnybrook, between Bridgetown and Boyup Brook (where my brother Tim and his wife Sarah keep winning the iron man/woman classification in the Blackwood Marathon).

Rob and Ant en route

This was the part of the trip I was a bit worried about. I wasn't sure how much forest we would be overflying - this leg was going to be 80 minutes, and I was hoping it wouldn't be all over trees. However, it turned out fine - there was lots of farmland for much of the leg - it was only as we got nearer to Denmark that we really hit solid bush. Just like last time, I was able to see Mt Lindsay, and just aim for it from about 80 nautical miles away. Visibility was spectacular. Another thing that made navigating this leg easy was the enormous Lake Muir, half-way along. It sticks out like dogs balls, a big lake in the surrounded by bush, visible for miles. Rob, less used to identifying things from the air, thought it was a big farm or cleared area - he couldn't believe it was a lake.

Lake Muir, which seemed to be empty, but stood out for miles.

Approaching Denmark on the Wilson Inlet.

Rob seemed surprised that we were landing on gravel. Landing at Denmark was much easier than last time. It was much smoother, and I could easily see the powerlines I had to avoid, and I even didn't get surprised by the steep rise at the start of the strip. Smooth touchdown, but when taxiing I experienced a lot of pulling to the right, so much that I had to use left brake to stay on the taxiway. Turned out I had let my tyres get very low. There was no way I could take off without pumping them up.

Our hire car was waiting for us, courtesy of Tony. It was time to get to work. As I said earlier, we are planning to buy an investment property down here. We met with the agent, Geoff, who happens to be very interested in aviation. After looking over the property, Geoff gave us a suggested drive we might like to do. It took us to Ocean Beach lookout, then Lights Beach, then to Forest Hill winery for lunch. Everything was spectacular. I was mildly envious of Rob when he was able to have a few beautiful glasses of red for lunch - I had to stick to the water.

	The inlet is separated by the ocean at this time of year by a big long strip of sand.
	On the ocean side, you've got the cliffs of the Nullaki Peninsular. You can get 100 acres overlooking the ocean up there if you've got some spare cash. From there you have 360 degree views of the Southern Ocean, the inlet, the forest and the farmland. We flew along these cliffs last year

The inlet is separated from the ocean by this strip of sand. Apparently each year, they join up, and the inlet gets flushed. There were quite a few dogs running around here - my dogs would love all this sand.

Geoff kindly agreed to meet us out at the airport when we departed. He brought his electric pump, so we could inflate the tyres. My front tyre was down to around 10psi, and my right main was even lower. Because at Jandakot I'm parked in long grass, I hadn't noticed just how flat they were getting. I'll have to keep an eye on that. We had to unscrew the hubcaps to inflate the tyres, and had trouble getting one back on, so we left it.

We probably stayed too long at the restaurant for lunch. It was approaching 3:30pm, whereas I had intended to leave more like 2pm. I phoned ahead to Albany for fuel. We waved goodbye to Geoff, who took some photos of us as we were leaving, and we departed runway 10, heading direct for Albany. Never having seen photos of Squibby in action, I include some here.

	taxiing out
	There's that water view which makes Denmark the prettiest strip I've used.
	Backtracking down the gravel strip
	These gravel strips are not my favorite. The little stones are not so good for the propellor. Funny, I never used to worry when I was renting.
	You can see that it's hot from the slight shimmering as we start our takeoff roll
	First part of the runway is uphill, and with the heat, things were a bit sluggish.
	Airborne

Albany was completely quiet, and we refuelled quickly. Amazingly, the refueller remembered me from last June, and even remembered that I was with my wife last time.

Full of fuel, we took off on 14, wheeled around, and climbed to 4500.

As we flew North, it got hotter and bumpier. I was trying to hold 4500, but I would get lifted up to 5000, then sink quickly to as low as 3500. I was having a lot of trouble keeping anywhere near 4500. To keep my altitude anywhere near constant, I would sometimes have to add full power and enter a climb attitude, at other times I would have to remove power and act as though I was descending. After a lot of messing around, I decided to keep a more or less constant attitude & power setting, and just ride the bumps, not worrying too much about holding my altitude.

All the lurching, combined with the extremely warm cabin, and the limited ventilation made Rob start to feel queasy. I was OK because I usually don't get sick at the controls. About 10 or more minutes north of Kojonup, he asked if we could stop anywhere. I knew even if we diverted, he wouldn't be able to hold on, and I was also worried about daylight if we stopped on the ground, so decided to press on. Ominously, Rob dug out a plastic bag. Within about a minute, he was depositing his lunch into it.

I had a lot of sympathy. As someone who has a history of getting carsick, seasick, airsick, and any other form of motion sickness, I know it's a terrible feeling. Rob felt awful. I wished I had proper sickbags, instead of just a plastic shopping bag (which, we discovered, was leaky). Out of the corner of my eye I could see Rob heaving, so I tried to look out the left window, and made sure I breathed through my mouth - I was sure if I caught a whiff I would be the same way - which would make flying much more difficult.

When Rob was finished, I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to throw the leaky bag out the door - I thought it might possibly get caught on the tail. So I sacrificed an old backpack, which I had been planning to throw out anyway, to store the unwanted cargo.

So the last hour of the flight seemed to take for ages. The sun was getting low in the sky, and we were over the thick state forest. I could hear the tower closing, and by the time I neared Jandakot, it had reverted to a CTAF. So it was a long day - I departed before the tower opened, and returned after it closed.

The Boddington Gold Mine

The last part of the flight is over thick state forest. Power lines are useful for navigation and are very easy to identify as they cut a straight line through the trees.

Did my third pretty good landing of the day (feels different with inflated tyres), and tied up, while Rob went off to sit in the shade and recover. He said he felt like he'd run a marathon. It is exhausting feeling nauseous.

We had a great day, and were both exhausted by the end. In future, if the day was going to be that hot, we'd probably stay overnight, so that we did two early morning flights. That would make things a bit more pleasant. The ventilation system in the Musketeer is pretty minimal.

Uncle Len

I was able to take Kim's Uncle Len up for a quick flight up the Perth beaches.

Len had a flight about 10 years ago in a Tiger Moth, and was very happy to get another chance to fly. As if on demand, as we stepped out onto the tarmac the Aero Club's yellow Tiger Moth flew slowly past. Then, after my preflight when I pulled in front of the club to pick Len up, the Tiger Moth was parked there, so that Len got a good look at it up close.

It was another hot day, 38 deg C (100 deg F), so it was very hot in the cockpit, especially on the ground. So I'd have to say it was uncomfortable. Jandakot was actually pretty quiet - I'm sure because of the heat.

There were some interesting aircraft though, as there often are on a Sunday. So Len was able to see a Chipmunk, the Tiger Moth, a pair of Nanchang CJ6, as well as some more regular aircraft.

It was a nice flight, it would have been more pleasant if it was a bit cooler, but Len seemed to have a good time. Me, I always enjoy a chance to take Squibby out.

Checking out the 160 hp Lycoming

Strapping in with Len in the heat. If it's 38 outside, it's got to be at least 45 in that cabin. I was running with sweat the moment I got in.

Squibby near the aero club's beautiful Tiger Moth.

Flitzer Basically Finished

I checked with Mark, to see how he's going with the Flitzer. He reports that it's essentially finished! A few final touches to do, but that's all that remains. It will be a while before he's flying it, because he has to finish his licence. That's probably good, because it gives him a chance to finish it off to a high standard without being tempted to rush off and fly it.

I'm planning to get down to Serpentine at some point to see how it looks. What an achievement!