LEARNING TO FLY

Timaru Herald, Volume CXXV, Issue 18352, 24 August 1929, Page 14

LEARNING TO FLY

LIGHT PLANES FUTURE. NATIONAL HIGHWAYS. A writer in the ‘‘Morning Post,” London, has treated of flying from the point of view of the ordinary man. He * remarks that men of skill who have written on flying can be divided into two classes, those who write of great deeds and hazardous adventure, placing the whole subject in a semi-heroic plane that frightens the ordinary man Into believing he can never even set foot on the ladder that leads to such unattainable heights, and those who write as if flying were ‘as easy as falling off a log,’ which, to him, of course, it is.”

"I started with an average knowledge of the principles of the internal combustion engine,” he goes on, “and an amysmal ignorance of the first principles of flying. I had been for two or three long Journeys as a passenger in giant machines. I felt no special •call of the air’ or anything of that kind. I had no ambitions towards being a famous airman. I just thought that flying would be an amusing thing to learn, just as hundreds of undergraduates, young business men, lawyers, and even politicians, have thought. That is all.” With regard to flying he first deals with what matters first also in New Zealand, the cost of learning. At Home, apparently, by joining a flying club the total expense need not exceed £3O. It is certainly cheap. A bigger trouble to most would be the time required to learn. Given a reasonably good period of weather, a man, according to the writer, would be very unlucky if he could not learn within a couple of months or ten weeks. He places great stress on providing oneself with a helmet “that really fits.” An ill-fitting helmet in which the telephones fail to fit snugly right

over the ears makes it far more difficult to hear the instructor and wastes time in learning to fly. “Pilots of the old school who were taught to fly in an incredibly short space of time during the war on the ‘kill or cure’ principle, by which, after an hour or so dual control, they were launched into space ‘solo’ to find out all about it for themselves, look rather haughtily at these modern luxuries of telephones and the Light Aeroplane Club minimum ‘dual’ period of eight hours. Before going ‘solo,’ however, the ‘learner should know enough to reduce the risk of his smashing up the machine and himself. By means of the telephones, which are really only speaking tubes, the instructor can keep up a run of chatty and perfectly audible instruction, and the pupil can ask questions just as easily. The First Lessons. This pupil apparently was somewhat unlucky in his initial flights as a pupil. There was a thick haze, making it difficult, if not impossible, for a novice to detect any sign of a horizon. “The absence of any clearly defined horizon gave me a feeling of utter vagueness, which was inevitable, I suppose, on finding myself for the first time capable of moving in several planes at once and with no fixed points by which to calibrate the motion.” Later on, however, he found that with a horizon to keep the nose on, one gradually developed a sense of level and balance, and each successive lesson he found the movements becoming less and less conscious and more and more automatic. “Also one learns to let the ‘plane fly by itself as far as possible.” Learning to fly, however, is not a thing that can be put on paper, he says. It is a manual rather than a mental business, and it is useless to write about it. It has to be carried out in practice, and “there is not much that even the most experienced pilot could put on paper.” As he progressed in his lessons he was initiated into the handling of a

machine when it “stalls,” then taken into a “spin,” with the object of impressing upon him that a “spin” was a simple thing, “quite simple; might happen anytime!” “Quite,” was his shaky reply; “quite. Thanks awfully.”

“It seemed the only thing to say, and my profuse gratitude appeared to convince him that we need not do any more ‘spins’ that morning.” Dark Before the Dawn. At first easy, afterwards with each successive lesson flying seemed to become harder and harder. There was always a new problem and a new difficulty, and he began to despair of “ever being able to handle the wretched 'plane alone.” Then came a morning when he definitely decided that he was no use at flying and never would be, but he would go up once more—not to attempt to learn anything but just for the amusement of it. “We were not a hundred feet off the ground when the P.I. told me to take over the machine and steer for Harrow, and without caring in the slightest whether I missed Harrow and arrived over Elstree I took the controls. In fact, I was really thinking about something else. “Now turn sharp to the left,” said the P.I. and, still half pre-occupied, I did go. “Now right round to the right, and go straight over to Hendon. No, don’t take the bank off yet. Keep her going round. Now straighten out; that’s right. Now turn again and head for the aerodrome.”

“To the inexperienced the hardest thing in the world is to find the infernal aerodrome three minutes after one has left it, but I looked over the side and managed to recognise it in the distance. Thinking far more about the aerodrome than what I was actually doing, I found I had turned the ’plane quite comfortably and was making a bee-line for it.” Joy in the Morning. The actual landing, however, was made by the pilot, who took over the controls as they glided over the sheds. But they did not remain on the ground. The engine roared, and they were off into the air again. Then he suddenly discovered that flying was no longer new and strange. He had got the “feel” of it in a flash, the outlook was no longer hopeless, he was “bitten” with flying and he revelled in the rest of the lesson. It was just the same as when learning to ride a bicycle. Control is largely automatic.

But there was still a long way to go before a flying certificate could issue, then a medical examination, and a viva voce technical examination at the Royal Aero Club. All kinds of people are learning and have learnt to fly. Is it worth while? Well, a light aeroplane costs little more than a car, it can be flown for little more than the running cost of a car, and it will cover a distance In less time and as safely as a car. It is all a question, now, of landing areas. The motor-car came upon a world quite unready for it as regards highways, albeit more ready than It was, or is, for the aeroplane. Highways have been constructed for the motor-car, apd highways must be provided for ’planes. A landing ground here and there at long distances, and as it were, haphazard, is of little use from the point of view of promoting national flying. There must be highways, that is to say a regular series of landing grounds along defined routes. That time will come. It is not a serious problem for the small 'plane, and the small ’plane is the one in which ordinary people will fly. For big commercial ventures and military purposes no doubt extensive centres will be necessary, but for the light ’planes the real need is highways. The grounds need not be large, but they should be numerous.