COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

COMBAT AND COMPETITION
It was a late start and I wasted three precious hours, trying to work
round a large area of decaying cloud, instead of waiting for it to drift
away downwind. A classic error which left me being blown towards
the Lincolnshire coast with insufficent land ahead to make 300 km.
For the rest of that long afternoon I struggled southwards, beside
the Wash, in a succession of weak and turbulent thermals which kept
drifting the Olympia out to sea. A slow and hazardous journey -
accosted at one stage by a playful Lancaster which kept barging
through my circles in an alarming and highly stalled manner.
When I finally rounded the southwest corner of the Wash - and dug
myself out of that dreadful hole at six feet per second to almost 4000
feet - I pressed on too hard and almost blew it again.
That was the worst part of the whole trip, hanging on by a thread
of broken shifting lift, as fields and woods gyrated below in
unpleasantly close proximity. The suspense was almost unbearable. Just
one half decent thermal would be enough. By the time it arrived, and
the little town of Melton Constable slid below, I was practically ready
for a padded cell!
Afterwards, taking the straight line distance and my time en route,
the ground speed worked out at 31 mph. The 2000 ft wind had been
forecast at 28.75mph and the barograph trace indicated an average
cruising height nearer 3000 ft. A balloon would have done it as fast!
The Captain and members of the nearby Caister and Great
Yarmouth Golf Club were most hospitable. But they alerted the press
and a couple of reporters turned up. Once they started questioning me
the cat was out of the bag. Until then, following my telephone call to
Charlie Kenmir before take off, I was off sick.
Two days later I arrived early for work, slid unobtrusively behind
my desk, and waited for the inevitable. Charlie wasted no time at all.
He marched straight across the room grinning with evil delight:
"Off sick indeed - its all over the papers - the press have been
after JD and he knew nothing about it - you're in the shit!"
Moments later Ben was on the phone - "What's this you've been up
to lad, breaking records5 and things, JD wants your guts for garters!
Come and tell us all about it when he's finished with you." And he
rang off shouting with laughter.
J.D. North was the Managing Director. He had been designing
aeroplanes before the first World War. Not that he looked that old. But
he rarely smiled or spoke and it seemed unlikely that he had much
sense of humour. When he walked into the project office that morning
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