THe First Time.

I can still remember the first time I was exposed to aviation, I was 8 years and my fathers’ business partner in Zambia announced that he was going to learn to fly.

He took me along to his second or third lesson. The aircraft was a Piper Cherokee 140 and had 4 seats. I was asked to sit in the back and they spend an awful long time flipping switches tapping dials muttering some weird words, then loud and clear one of them said “Prop Clear” and suddenly the engine started and the small cabin was full of noise, so the side door was closed.

The instructor then turned around and told me to fasten my seatbelt this I could not do so he had to undo his kneel on the front seat facing me and show me how. He wasn’t upset, just matter of fact.

My Fathers partner meantime just sat there waiting until I was secure.

The instructor then took of the plane and I was fascinated, I could hardly see out the side window but saw that we were rapidly getting higher and it was a wonderful feeling.

Soon the engine sound changed and the aircraft leveled off and I could now see ore ahead. As well as following parts of the lesson, turns one way then the other way demonstrated by the instructor then done by my father’s partner.

I thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of sitting so high above the ground and seeing clouds from close up and noticing that all on the ground seemed to be ant size.

All too soon the instructor muttered something into a microphone and the engine noise became even softer and the aircraft now seemed to be going down back to earth.

The landing was exiting and all remember is the gentle chirping of rubber as the wheels touched the runway and a rumbling noise was heard as the aircraft taxied back to the club house.

I was hooked and tried to tag along on every flying lesson that I was allowed to accompany.

The only stipulation my father had was that my homework from school had to be complete.

If I was not given a lift to the flying club I cycled the 6 odd miles and spend many happy afternoons just lazing about watching aircraft doing touch and goes and circuit work. There was a swimming pool at the club so managed to cool down when it became too hot.

Ah the memories of sunny afternoons in Zambia with the smell and sounds of aircraft
flying for me was as close to heaven as I could get.