Saturday, 23 July 2016

Milestones

Milestones

Every thousand hour journey starts with a takeoff. Weather that takeoff is a trail flight in a glider, a helicopter or a fixed wing aircraft it really doesn't matter, once you have left the runway and joined the birds, you are on your way.

Along that path there are certain markers, like milestones on a road. Effective controls, first solo, PPL, CPL, aerobatics, multi engine, IFR, ratings in different aircraft, strip flying, mountain flying, cross countries and slowly the hours clock up.

Milestones are usually a fixed distance apart (dependant on speed). Each Queens’s birthday for NZAWA members it is a time to stop at a pre-appointed town to replenish, review, rejoice and rehydrate. For some it is a mini journey, just getting to and from the rally.

The 2015 NZAWA rally was held at Waipukurau. The aircraft that flew in were DFU, DLL, DNU, EWP, FLF, FTQ, JBZ, KCC, MNY, RVF, TRS, WAJ, and WHO, coming from as far afield as Dargaville to Wanaka. The types of aircraft attending were as diverse as their pilots. Everything from a Gipsy moth, to a Sports Cruiser.

The pilots attending came via several different flight paths. Some being students hadn't travelled far yet in their aviation journey. Others have travelled vast distances as international travellers. There are those that fly way above the mountains in wave and those that fly in amongst the mountains. The achievements of a few that reach major milestones are recognised each year at the rally by the presentation of hours badges. This year Jo Olszewski reached 500 hours, Sue Telford 5,000 hours, and Thrya Blaom 10,000 hours.

At the rally there is the opportunity to learn from others, flying with and in something different. Our celebrated top dressing pilot Lea Giblin took out the precision and flapless landings competitions in a tiger moth. Ironically the first commercial topdressing aircraft used in New Zealand. A quite different animal from the Fletcher she is used to. Four women took up the opportunity to learn some hands on strip flying from Ross MacDonald on some local scraps of land they call airstrips.

Sue Telford and Carlton Campbell shared their considerable knowledge on mountain flying. Sues presentation was accompanied by wonderful photographs taken by Peter Scott on an airwomen’s adventure into Milford Sound, after the Wanaka rally in 2013. A place I would never have flown into without the encouragement and networking of NZAWA members.

Competitions are always a challenge against both oneself and others. The best bit being that it makes you sharpen up your act for public viewing. If all goes to custard there is always the learnings from that experience and an instructor for guidance. Stepping outside the square can be uncomfortable but worthwhile. Even the new experience of landing on a grass airfield was new for some (not unlike a gravel road for some city dwellers).

Hand in hand with the flying there is the social side of the weekend.  Saturday is usual set aside for a themed night. This year the Russian women pilots known as the night witches of the 588 bombing squadron were celebrated. Parlour games and skits being the vehicle to promote the lighter side of the evening and provide a good laugh.

On a more serious note, one journey came to an abrupt, untimely conclusion last year. In recognition of this incredible woman, David Morgan chief pilot for Air NZ, presented the inaugural, Ann Barbarich-Bacher Memorial Award. The award went to Enya McPherson a young lady with huge potential. I look forward to watching her continued trajectory through the aviation sphere. I am picking the milestones on the superhighway of today’s world will be flashing past at lightning speed for our next generation of pilots. Watch this space but don’t blink!


In 2016 Mercer is programmed to be the venue for the Queen’s birthday, NZAWA rally. Anybody is welcome whatever your direction of travel in the aviation world, especially males with a sense of humour. This year we introduced a new competition just for the lads J. BBQing/driving/instructing/judging and grid skills are also useful too.

Friday, 22 July 2016

Pi

Pied

Pi is an irrational number, 3.14159265358979323846…. that assists in the calculation of such things as volume, area, circumference and even frequency. Things like the cubic capacity of an engine, the circumference of a loop, and even the volume of a smoke oil tank.

On the afternoon of the 14th of November Pam and I did a lot of number crunching. Nothing so complex that we needed Pi but I did need her tablet. Multiplication and division on factors of 13 and 26 are beyond my lazy brain. We were collating the score cards of 12 aerobatic competitors, from multiple judges, with about 10 manoeuvres per page. Around 360 computations. The results were crucial to our ongoing admittance within the New Zealand aerobatic circles.

Pam Collings, Russell Bell, Richard Collett and Grant Benns had spent the morning staring at gyrating spots in the sky, firing off numbers and comments for us scribes to record, hopefully in line next to the right squiggle, on the appropriate competitor’s sheet. There was a whole new lingo to learn, pinches, flats, pushovers and eggs.

The reason for all this showing off and points scoring was a gathering of Pitts Specials (S1, S1E, S1S, S2A, S2S,) and their friends. Also in attendance were, an Acrosport, a Giles, a Harmon Rocket, a Laser, a Nanchang, a Robin, a Yak, and a couple of RVs. Andrew Love had the all-encompassing idea of a weekend in the aviation centre of New Zealand, Omaka, to celebrate the 70th anniversary of Curtis Pitts’s iconic aeroplane.

The Pitts Special is a petite, perky, performer. It’s cute squat stature belies its ability to stamp a power inducing grin on your dial. The erratic flight, pug nose and rounded body bring to my mind the New Zealand fantail, the Piwakawaka. The cheeky little insect gobblers/bug smashers that always seem pleased to see you.

Seven examples of these flirty aeroplanes were in attendance. EES, FRJ, PEG, PIG, PIT and UFX (briefly flitted in and out). EEU being in restoration mode, was residing in the hangar. The new owners were delighted when the original builder, Keith Trillo, made a guest appearance to observe progress on the project. Full circle so to speak.

After staring at spots in the sky, scribbling, calculating and a bit of skylarking we adjourned to the bar. The lovely evening meal was catered for by Marlborough Aeroclub. This was followed with tales from Pam Collings on her adventures circling the globe with her beloved Pitts, PAC. The icing on the cake being the video footage from the early 1980s of Pam doing aerobatics in the Mount Cook basin.


The Canterbury boys took out the top awards. Yes Pam and I did the adding up, and I know it looks suss but the score sheets are with Andy, oops another Cantabrian. Sadly the weather was forecast to take a turn for the worse resulting in a number of attendees running for home late on Saturday afternoon. On the up side, leaving more brandy snaps for me.

Niue

Niue Rocks
Echo: If a sound echoes or a place echoes with a sound, you hear the sound again because you are in a large, empty space:
Being a volcanic rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Niue has an abundance of, caves, chasms, and empty spaces. There’s lots of potential to hear echoes, you just have to stop and listen. I’ve heard Niue described as a green dinner plate upside down in the ocean. I’d say more like an upside-down flan dish on a doily. The island meets the sea abruptly with walls of crinkly cliffs. Straight below a ring of pink coral fringes the island like it’s sitting on a decorative lace doily.
The structure of the island, where cliff meets sea, means there is a network of deep crystal clear rock pools. If you pick your tides and keep a watch on the swells you can spend hours snorkelling around in them. Imagine the aquarium at your dentists only a hundred times bigger and you’re on the inside. If you use your imagination you can even see the odd rock castle, like the ones they put in fish tanks.    
At about a hundred meters offshore the island drops off sharply. This is the playground for pods of Spinner dolphins who of course rely on echoes to find those yummy fish. Land lovers can find yummy fish at the Kai ika sushi restaurant. In fact fish and chicken are predominantly on the menu of all the island restaurants.
Whilst driving around the island we saw two things that struck us as unusual. Firstly the abandoned houses. These are dwellings that the owners have walked away from. They have moved overseas but their presence is still there, even if it is only in the form of bricks and mortar. Ghost houses, they still seem to have souls but no bodies.
The other strange thing for us, but makes perfect sense to a community that owns land forever and respects its ancestors, were the graves. Dotted along the roadside, sometimes on the edge of the village or right outside a family home. They were well cared for and even decorated.
Echoes of the past, as in traditions, are still as concrete as the hurricane proof houses. Sundays are a day for church, family and relaxation. Not many businesses are open on Sunday, a nice reminder of the way life used to be in New Zealand. A day to kick into neutral.
The upbringing with the church front and centre seemed to have a visible spin off. The singing! I think it must be in the DNA, then honed on Sunday mornings. It was just melodious. Even their Karaoke night sounded fantastic.
Niue is on the other side of the dateline so it is literally behind the (New Zealand) times, but not in a bad way. One good reason for choosing Niue as my birthday destination (a tradition of mine, to be on an island for my birthday) was the timing. I could avoid my birthday by 23 hours. As it happened the up side was I managed two birthdays. People were extra nice to me for two days, my New Zealand birthday and my Niuean birthday. Passing back over the dateline we lost a day so I don’t have to count the extra birthday. 
“In 1974 the people of Niue adopted a Constitution providing for self-government in free association with New Zealand. This is different from full independence. Under the Niue Constitution, New Zealand provides necessary economic and administrative assistance, and is responsible for Niue's defence and surveillance of its Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ). 
Because Niueans are New Zealand citizens, they can work and study here without requiring special visas. About 24,000 Niueans live in New Zealand, compared to 1,460 living in Niue (2011 Census)”.
Because of the close link between New Zealand and Niue and the constant coming and going of its citizens there seems like an echo of a New Zealand in a gentler less rushed time albeit with a distinct island resonance.

Under: Under someone's spell. Fascinated or influenced by someone.
As far as we could work out there were only really two fixed weekly schedules on the island. The two Air New Zealand flights (Friday and Tuesday) and the happy hours (shared by the various bars). Everything else was negotiable dependent on weather, tides, weddings or the arrival of a cargo ship. Government departments only work Monday to Thursday and shops only open on the days when there are likely to be customers. Vital services like the service station and the grocery store are open sometime during most days, Sundays 4 -8pm. Restaurants like the bars share the tourists around by opening on alternative days to each other. R’Lina’s café advertises that they are only open on “plane days”, (we found they were open other days too). Wash away café (because it once was), Gills Indian, Vaiolama, Oki oki mai and Matavai are the only ones that trade on a Sunday. My favourite café had to be the Crazy Uga (Coconut crab) for both views and friendly service. Thankfully there were no sightings of said crazy crab. Maybe being born under the sign of cancer, I was the crazy crab?
Sue and Keith Vial run the Commodore’s orientation tour on the first morning after you arrive and I can fully recommend you do this for several reasons. Firstly, it gives you the lay of the land. Secondly, they can give you quite a bit of a background to the island. Thirdly, they give you a pack at the end of the tour which gives you tide times, suggested places to visit and the islands activities for that week (including where and when the happy hours are).
Like most tour operators on the island they truly just want you to have a good time and stay safe. Sue went up to the island to teach and they both stayed, that’s the sort of place it is, captivating.
Niue has an abundance of self-driven explorations. In order to do them though you need to borrow a few things. Most importantly, a mode of transport, be it a pushbike, a scooter, a motorbike, a car or a boat. You’ll also need gear, snorkels, masks, fins, reef shoes, trekking sticks, diving equipment or a fishing rod.
While we were there we borrowed (under hire) a car of sorts, snorkel gear and dive gear.
Driving on the island is like an inverted game of space invaders where you try not to hit the potholes. The constant weaving from side to side keeps you focused. Luckily the speed limits are 40km/hr (villages) and 60km/hr (open). Keeping to the speed limits is a good idea because other than the potholes there are also dogs, chickens and falling coconuts to avoid. Our rental car we coaxed along sacrificing overdrive and air-conditioning for horsepower on the hills. Even though the island ring road is only 64km we managed 400kms by the end of our trip.
Under the guidance of the locals it was easy to lay back, listen to the waves crashing on the reef, sip a cocktail or two and unwind to island pace. Relax, no hurry here. Appointments were flexible plus or minus an hour. We saw very few clocks but a lot of cocks, as in roosters. Obviously they are Niuean born, they have no sense of timing and crow day and night.         
As a tourist you are really only borrowing the experience but once you are under the influence of Niue being either under water or underground you will be under her enchanting spell. Remember the only thing not be under is a coconut tree with your rental car.

Indigo: Indigo is that subtle colour between purple and blue. It is credited with creativity and serenity.
The sea around the island has been both protector, provider and barrier for the Niuean people. Apparently back in Captain Cook’s days the locals didn’t take too kindly to tourists, chasing them off. The locals are much more friendly now.
With the arrival twice a week of the big black and white bird the island goes into overdrive (well overdrive is relative, like my rental’s overdrive, just a slight change in speed). The tourists came in waves as such and the bi weekly batches were easily divided into three stages. Driving slowly, just got their rental. Driving slightly faster and waving occasionally, been here a few days. Driving to the point where they reach the speed limit between villages, waving to everyone and avoiding most potholes, they were about to leave.
Listening to the waves in the morning, watching the dolphins cruise past from our balcony and being in the ocean will be my take home memories of Niue. The blend of red coral, to turquoise rock pools, to the indigo of the deep sea is something very calming to me. Being in the water itself is what Niue is renowned for. Because there are no streams running into the sea there are no particles to dirty up the water. The crystal clear visibility makes it ideal for snorkelling and diving. The snorkelling was as I said before like being in a huge wave tank. The fish were canary yellow, electric blue, orange, white, black, brown, striped and spotted. I even saw a fish that had stolen all the colours of the rainbow. I did see a few of those slinky black and white sea snakes, so fluid and graceful. We were too early to see the whales which pass close to the shore. Sounds like an excuse for another trip.
Then there was the diving!
I did something called a try dive where you get instruction in a swimming pool then get to do an ocean dive with an instructor. The instructor controls your buoyancy so all you have to remember to do is breathe and equalize your ears. All I can say is it’s a whole new world down there that has taken me 50 years to discover. Any time I thought about what I was doing and where I was, I kept seeing something else fascinating that took my mind off being underwater with an artificial source of air. It was just magic and I have to give a big thanks to Rami for introducing me to the world down under. Appropriately Rami and Julz business is called Magical Niue and no they didn’t pay me to rave about them they are just great people who want you to enjoy what the island has to offer.

New: of recent origin or arrival, made, invented, discovered, acquired, or experienced recently or now for the first time.
There is lots of new stuff happening on Niue with new tourist ventures finding their feet and lots of new fresh ideas. The Matavai Resort where we stayed is expanding and building a conference and wedding venue as well as a new accommodation block.
I think of this tourism lark as a fine balance. Like the buoyancy control device in diving. Too little air and you sink to the floor of the sea, not sustainable. Too much air and you bob around on the top never seeing the real underwater world. Having to avoid all the boats and other people on the surface just spoils it. The beauty of an island, to me, is the lack of dilution from outside influences, including tourists. That’s the point of difference Niue still has.    
If you want to find out about Niue the tourism website is excellent www.niueisland.com and they give you an island guide when you arrive that has all the information you need. There is a daily newsletter put out by the Matavai resort to keep you up to date with the cultural shows and the current island activities.
New Zealand currency is used and the flight up is only 3 and ½ hours from Auckland.
Power is the same as New Zealand and a blessing in disguise is that internet and cell-phones are virtually non-existent. Try it, go to Niue and go off line! Remember talking to each other at the dinner table. I don’t know, call me traditional.
Trust me you’ll feel like a new man or woman after soaking in the waters and swimming with the fishes of Niue. 
Looking backwards or forward, from above or below
EUIN or NIUE
to me it fits with the old bridal traditional of:
Something Old                      Echoes           The old world traditions         
Something New                     New                The new ventures
Something Borrowed           Under              The tourists

Something Blue                     Indigo              The sea

Saturday, 13 June 2015

Glass Half empty / glass half full

Glass half empty/glass half full
by Bernice Hintz

If you drive anywhere on Tasmania’s east coast, within 30min you’ll see a winery sign beckoning you to sample their products. Rows of tasting glasses and complimentary food to tempt the visitor to try and buy.
About halfway down the east coast, smack in the middle of the vineyards, is the biggest glass of all, a bay called Wineglass Bay. It is so named because it is the shape—a massive wineglass, broad at the base with a curved beach and closing in at the top end. It is an iconic Tasmanian image, part of the Freycinet National Park, luring travellers to come and see the pristine scenery and taste the fresh air of Tasmania.
There are three ways to see the bay—by land, by sea or by air. On foot requires several hours of uphill/downhill/uphill and finally downhill slog. The boat trip requires four hours of wallowing around on the ocean.
By comparison the flight is 30min, a painless breeze.
One of the benefits of travelling solo is being able to go where you please. One of the downsides is when operators have a minimum capacity; either that or the cost doubles. I followed my nose to Freycinet Air, well signposted off the main road to Coles Bay. I checked out the strip and looked for an aeroplane. Eventually I stepped into the office, just to check out the prices, you understand.
I had three options: go by myself; go with another couple who were doing a longer trip; or wait for another person to do a shorter trip. As luck would have it, another customer turned up just in time. My new friend and I went for a drive to the appropriately named Friendly Beaches to do some sightseeing while the first couple did an hour’s scenic flight.
The airstrip is long (1000m) with the usual obstacles, wires, holes, slope and, in some wind directions, wind shear. Thankfully we had a versatile Cessna 172.
My conservative new friend expressed concern about the size of the aircraft and the age of the pilot (26). I reassured her that the aeroplane was huge compared to some (a Cessna 150). I also pointed out that Jason was at the sharp end of the learning curve, with all his training still fresh.
The minute we were airborne I started smiling. I’d missed my aviation fix. The flight was silky smooth. Jason explained all his actions to Elaine and me as he went, effectively calming any nerves. He explained all the local features. He even did an extra circuit of Bryans Bay so I could check out the seals playing in the water.
The scenery was everything it promised to be. The water sparkles, the granite mountains glow pink, the beaches are wedding white, the cliffs slice dramatically into the sea. The colour of the water reminds me of a male peacock: “Look at me! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
The whole area was just breathtaking, well deserving of all its accolades.
The sight of the bulldozed strip in the bush that we were going to land back on did give me a moment until I reminded myself: 1000m, Cessna 172, lightly loaded, uphill, competent pilot. Everything obviously was fine and all up I saved $100—bonus!
Now excuse me while I go find a driver to transport me around a few of those vineyards, to sample a bit more of the local colour.



Half full (flying)                                              Half empty (any other option)
Saved time                                                      Would take longer
Get a chance to fly                                          Get to watch others fly over me while I am not
More fun                                                         Less fun
Bird’s eye view                                              Surface view
No snakes, spiders or leeches in the sky        Chance of engaging with nasty wildlife
See further                                                      Short sighted view
Smooth sky                                                     Lumpy sky
Lumpy sky for limited time                            Lumpy sea forever (4hr)
Get to hang around an airport,                        Having nothing to say to a skipper (for 4hr)

sniff aviation gas and talk to pilots
Support aviation                                             Pilot has to find second job
Time to go to the wineries                             Too exhausted to go to any wineries (walking)


Published New Zealand Aviation News June 2015

Sunday, 16 November 2014

Letter to Ann


Dunedin traditionally marks the arrival of the first albatross by ringing church bells. The bells of First Church tolled around the city at lunchtime today to welcome the albatross back for the 2014 season.

Dear Ann,
On the 7th of November I waited.
I waited and scanned the crowd looking out for you. All the team were there, where were you?

I waited and watched for you to breeze in like you always did. Fresh from your latest adventure. Gliding in from some far off port.
Like the guardians at Taiaroa Heads waiting for their Royal Albatross to return each year, I waited in anticipation. I searched the horizon between the scraggy grey clouds.

No sign of our Queen, no sign of our royalty.  
Your arrivals were always heralded with great joy, hugs and instant chatter. You lit up the room, like a sunrise. Your warm greetings and interest in our affairs drawing us into the fold.

When the cathedral emptied on that dreary Friday, it was raining. Even the sky was crying. As the black vehicle departed with your white coffin, I looked up, between the grey clouds I spotted a seabird. She did a slow 360 degree turn and headed out to sea.
They say that an albatross represents the lost soul of a sailor.
Lost to us perhaps but free to soar the wild ocean winds.

Photo Credit: Angus Wilson

Thanks for the happy memories.
Bernice

Ann Barbarich 28th March 1955 - 28th October 2014
787, 747, 737, glider, parachutist and helicopter pilot.
Dearly loved wife, devoted mother and warm loving friend.  


Monday, 20 October 2014

The first time (Flying)


Who’d be without it?

Do you remember the first time? You heard about it, you read about it, you saw it happen or you overheard an adult going on and on about it. It seemed unbelievable, farcical, and even physically impossible.

Then you moved from reading about it to dreaming about it. If you were a child of the 90’s onwards you probably even simulated it, with a joystick.

If you were an early developer, as a young spotty teenager you finally got to have a go yourself. The initial attempts were probably pretty clumsy. A few ham fisted, white knuckled, knee knocking shy touch and goes. Hopefully she was a tolerant creature and put up with your first fumbling attempts.

As you gained experience, you became a little smoother, grew in confidence and improved your approach technique. You would have picked up a few tips from the old boys around the bar. Finally you would have been ready to go all the way.

The first time alone, just you and her you have never forgotten. You would have been in a state of euphoria for days, walking on air, the King of all you purveyed. In short for everyone else you would have been intolerably smarmy.

Eventually after a few partnerships you would have settled down into a solid routine of practicing every Saturday. Sometimes something fancier took your eye and you moved on to bigger, faster, flasher models.

If you were rich enough you brought into a long term relationship that required a lot of maintenance and less frequency of doing it due to other (family) commitments. After a number of years you may have become too complacent. You found on final approach that everything suddenly went pear shaped because you weren’t paying enough attention.

A bit of wake turbulence, a hurried recovery, and a pride sapping go around. Expensive if the creature involved felt at all aggrieved by your handling. If you were wise you learnt from the bad experience and applied more attention to the next new partnership.

Then there are the shows. All blue skies and perfect performances. Beautifully outfitted and ingeniously choreographed. Music, lights, action. An addicts dream.

Too attend these performances you need a hat and sunglasses for disguise (it wouldn’t do your reputation any good being seen at these occasions). Some of the attendees bring scanners to listen in on the backstage gossip. If you’ve money you can bribe certain officials to letting you into privileged seating. If you’re really loaded you can slip some money down the front of the performer’s outfits and they might take you for a ride. The general public has to line the front row and crane their necks to see the best of the performance.

The show of course is an ecstasy of seductive noises and magical tricks. The smell of Avgas is erotic and the taste of pies and waffles overwhelming. The best thing, the thing that gets the body vibrating is the pulsating of the air by the high thrusting creatures of foreign extraction. They demand attention with their sexy lines and their impressive maneuvers. They are flighty and don’t tend to hang around to sign autographs much to the disappointment of their fans. The machines on display leave you weak at the knees and gasping for breath. Awestruck. You’ve never seen the like. As for the vertical dances!!!
 
Knowing that they are too hot for a mere mortal to handle you mossie on home afterwards still a bit star struck and go back to your old girl with renewed vigour. You are feeling revitalized and ready to try something new and exciting.
 
You remember the first time, you remember the bare times, you remember the adventurous times and you wonder at the whole miracle of it. Ah FLIGHT who’d be without it. From your 16th birthday to your dying breath you live for it. It is your life if you are so afflicted. 

Pick and Mix (Flying)


Pick and Mix
Who remembers Woolworths’ Pick and Mix? For a child of the 1970s it was an Aladdin’s cave of delight. For those who missed the experience, Pick and Mix was an assortment of lolly bins from which you could choose your own. It was about choice, it was about range and it was about the only time I cared about maths. How many lollies could I buy for 50 cents?

I know these days New World has lolly bins, but it’s not the same. It’s not a novelty any more, and besides, what’s with the bran and fruit?
I grew up in small town New Zealand. Te Puke had a tiny Woolworths and therefore a limited pick and mix range. I didn’t know true variety until I visited my grandmother in Auckland. The Auckland Woolworths Pick and Mix was beyond my wildest dreams. The problem arose that no matter how I did the maths, 50 cents couldn’t buy me one of everything. I quickly learned to be selective.

Moving forward a few years, I now have lots more things to make choices about. Aviation events for one.
Wanaka and Omaka are easy choices. The SAA (Sports Aircraft Association) fly in is compulsory attendance. Mandeville I have yet to experience. These are all fun and exciting, but on the world scale they are like the Te Puke Woolworths’ Pick and Mix store, small and cosy.

Going to the EAA AirVenture, at Oshkosh was like walking into the Auckland Woolworths Pick and Mix department. I was a wide eyed child again in a candy store. It is a week-long show of everything that flies, looks like it should fly or looks like it’ll never fly and then does, just to prove you wrong. It is Wanaka on some serious steroids.       
In 2010 (when I went), numbers were down as there were weather issues just prior to the show – three days of torrential rain. A lot of the grounds were too muddy for aircraft parking and camping. The attendees were counted at a mere 535,000 persons obviously give or take a thousand. I am not sure if they counted me seven times because I went every day, or just once. I brought a different T-shirt every day, so perhaps seven times.

Ten thousand aircraft homed in on Wisconsin for the show, 2380 of those being show planes. They can land them three at a time on the main runway, three miles long. Then there is a second runway at right angles to the main one. It’s just crazy to watch. All communication is one way. You just do as you are told. There were an estimated 36,000 campers (on high ground).
Every day in the afternoon there is an air show for about three hours. On Saturday they had the first ever night show which was the chocolate coating to the whole week. Aerobatics, formation flying AND fireworks attached to the aeroplanes!

There were 777 commercial exhibitors were you could buy everything from a Lear-jet, to a logbook for your dog. During the day there were seminars, movies, book signings, talks, forums and workshops on everything from fabric and wood to GPS and electric aeroplanes. It didn’t matter if you flew, fixed, built, taught or modelled – there was something for everybody with an aviation bent. (Some of the wives preferred the malls?).
Oshkosh requires good walking shoes, sunblock, a sunhat and a set of spider eyes to see everything. The display aircraft are parked separately in their appropriate categories. Although I was there a week I still had to pick and mix. There’s only so many hours in a week and I wasted some of it sleeping.

Here’s what I managed to see:
Straight up the middle there were the business jets, Honda, Cessna, Lear (Milk-bottles ). In Aeroshell square there were the airliners (Jet planes). On the flight line there were the aerobatic aeroplanes, the Pitts, Viper (Smokers). To the left were the homebuilts, RVs 3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,12, Kitfoxes, and the Rans (Jaffas). Further along to the left were the Warbirds, Seafury, Harvard, Mustang, Corsair, Skyhawk, Glacier Girl, and the Bs (Gumballs). In amongst the warbirds was a Catalina from the islands (Coconut Ice). Just past these were the Chipmunks (Peanuts). Stage left was the GA camping area. Cessna, Beechcraft, Cherokees (Pineapple Lumps). Across the runway was the military: army aircraft (Spearmints), navy aircraft (Peppermints), Air Force (Minties).




It was then advisable to catch a tractor trailer unit to return the miles back to the centre of proceedings, Aeroshell square. Just to the right, were the WW1 multi-winged things, (Liquorice allsorts). Slightly to the right again were the vintage aircraft; the Stearmans, Staggerwings, Curtis Robins, and the odd Tiger Moth, (Fudge). This was also the home of the only real coffee in a 20 mile radius.



Further along to the right were the ultralights, gyrocopters, Trikes, Dominators, and just weird stuff, (Nut mix and Chocolate Coated Cashews). Next the DC-3s in all liveries, (Fruit Balls). One morning, down this end they inflated the balloons (Bubble gum). Right at the very far end of the field they parked the Alaskan aircraft. You know those ones with fat tyres, and huge engines for STOL work (Eskimos). If you then caught a bus you could go out to the seaplanes base and see the Cessnas, Icons, Piper Cubs, Beavers anything really with wings and floats (Jelly Babies).









Back at the main airfield if you travelled down the main drag and over to the museum you could see the airship (Easter egg). Model aeroplanes (Kinder Surprises) were out when the wind was gentle, and the helicopters (Wine gums) took punters for joyrides. There were several ways of seeing the whole lolly shop from above. One being the Ford Trimotor (M&M&M).




I searched high and low, but nowhere did I find a Bolkow Junior (Roses Chocolate), dear little chocolate with a soft centre. Even without them it is still the biggest, brightest, buzziest airshow on earth. Loaded with variety, volume and value for money. Just what a sweet-toothed aviatrix wants in a candy store. 



First published Aviation News October 2010