Bonzer Words!: Life Begins At Eighty
John Powell flew an aircraft for the first time when he was 80 years old.
John writes for Bonzer! magazine. Please visit www.bonzer.org.au
This morning I headed for Murray Bridge airfield, an hour's run south of Adelaide, where I had arranged a rather special flight in an ultra-light aircraft called a Jabiro. I was surprised how small it is, being only slightly longer than a family car. The engine (a 4-stroke, 4 cylinder, 2.2 litre capacity) is incredibly small for an aircraft and, to my inexperienced eye, is really no bigger than that in your family car as well, except that it has
duplicated fuel supply and duplicated ignition for safety.
The pilot and passenger sit side by side, and, again, I can honestly say that the space is like that in the front seats of my two-door car. I had to take off my zip jacket as I was too cramped. The propeller, in the old fashioned way, is made of wood and about the length of my two arms outstretched.
The foot pedals are duplicated for both seats as are the throttles, but there is only one joystick, between the two seats, while the engine starts by turning the ignition key.
I said this was a 'special flight' because as we took off, I had my hands very lightly on the controls and the throttle, 'feeling' the pilot's movements until at 1,700 feet, although in all my 80 years I had never piloted before, he let me take over. He took his hands and feet off the controls and, showing great (but I feel, in fact, very alert) confidence in my ability, filled in his flight report as we went. I flew the plane, solo, for over half an hour over the South Australian countryside, while the unsuspecting citizens below had no idea of their impending fate if I went berserk.
I banked and dived and climbed with light-hearted abandon and had a real whale of a time–I cannot describe the 'buzz' I got. Mike, the pilot, said I was grinning non-stop.
Mike took over for the landings. I say, 'landings' in the plural, because we did what they call (a little too aptly I thought) 'Touch and Goes' a couple of times: that is, where you land on the runway and then, without stopping, open up the throttle and take off again. The landings were a little dicey
because of a rather nasty cross-wind, and the plane being very light could have veered off course, so he landed on the right wheel first, to counter this—it was a rather unusual experience to be hurtling along the runway tilted on one wheel–then he gradually put it down on the left-hand wheel as well. We continued to roar along the runway and then took off again.
Whereupon, once more airborne, he bravely, and beyond the normal call of duty, handed the aircraft over to my control. I can recommend this wonderful experience for a lovely serve of something unusual. Must go back and do it again.
And the cost? $60 for an hour's run plus a free cup of coffee
afterwards—and no charge for the unisex 'toilet' either, which was a grass patch between two sheds. The grass was flourishing—to which I might say, with all due modesty—I contributed.
©John Powell
