Not an official HFC trip, or it wasn’t supposed to be. The story is that Shane offered to fly his brother to the Isle of Wight for a day out and invited co-XK jockey Nick along. Nick asked the rest of the troupe and before you knew it, four aircraft are going and Shane’s brother can't make it.

So the cast list, Sunday morning, stood as

As far as the I can see. The J430 mobile kitchen showroom.

So, the first change of plan. Me! I’ve escaped from building a fence (ran out of materials!) and am ready to share the duties with Pete in GASUD.

Fuelling and planning: if we fill the Cherokee to tabs, we will be biting into the reserve on the journey back. The runways quite wet, and there’s no wind, but there’s only two of us and 180 horses, so we elect to fill to the brim.

The next change of plan! Nick’s on the phone. Cock up on the maintenance front - XK is due a 50-hour check. So Shane is driving to Stapleford to take a seat in GVOID and Nick is on his way to Andrewsfield to join us in GASUD, while Steve B will sit with Bob in the Jab. We reassess the fuelling strategy and decide to go for tabs and see how much we burn on the way down, which with the mild headwind should be more than the return journey. Nick arrives and it’s scramble! Scramble! Everyone has a faster aeroplane than us (yes a J430 is faster than a Cherokee 180, and just to rub it in, burns half as much fuel!) so we have to get moving.

A road to nowhere (Essex Regiment Way). Ingatestone, sandwiched and bisected.

The route is straight down to the Thames crossing between Rochester and Brands Hatch (keeping clear of the helicopter camera ship, must be Mike Smith). On to Bewl Water, right turn to Mayfield VOR, overhead and on to Goodwood, south west to Bembridge and then Sandown. Bob, with more time to spare and a slower fuel burn, decides to take the Jabiru down to Seaford VOR and then along the coast.

The vis is very murky, especially into sun. Three pairs of eyes constantly scan the sky to keep the Cherokee from harm. Still the beauty of digital cameras is “waste costs not”, so despite the vis the shutter fingers are kept fully exercised – great views of the downs, Arundel Castle, Thorney Island, Portsmouth and The Solent.

Bridge on the River Thames. The elusive Mayfield VOR.

Land, Sky, and the bit in the middle. Brighton Belle tracks.

Arundel & Castle. Portsmouth.

We make Sandown and the man in the tower is having a busy day. “Everyone follow the red Robin”, we take this as an invite to sing. Fortunately no one pushed a transmit button. Approach number one has to be aborted due to traffic density so round Pete goes again. Bob suffers the same fate and follows us round. The second approach is good and there is Wingco, camera poised to pounce on any mistakes. We taxi past a house overlooking the end of the runway with its own hanger. Bliss.

Bob is on approach as we park up. He looks way too high, but the Jabiru descends rapidly and uses so little of the runway that I suspect Bob will be wanting a discount on the landing fee. Whereas the Arrow gets to park with the big aeroplanes and the Cherokee gets to park with the modest, but sensible aeroplanes, the Jabiru gets sent off to the toy aeroplane park. Big grins. Bob maybe faster we’ve got a grown-ups aeroplane!

G-ASUD crew. Richard and Pete.

So what now? Food! No lets walk to town and eat, Pete knows the way. Shane is muttering things about murdering Arthur Cow, guess he was the guy he made the mistake on XK’s maintenance schedule. We’d better get him fed soon or this could turn nasty. Disaster, the short walk to town promised by Pete turns into a trek to rival Mao’s long march, or so it seemed. At last, steak ciabattas overlooking the sea. Bliss restored.

The long march back does not appeal, so enquiries are made in the taxi office. No taxi’s until 4pm! That’s three hours. Nothing for it but to set off.

Sometime later, Back at Sandown, Nick and Steve B swap places. The Arrow and Jabiru set off, but the Cherokee fuel situation is border line. I decide to stop at Bembridge for a lightening fuel stop. There’s something about Bembridge that I always get wrong. Unfortunately, it’s the landing. Pete, who has suffered most of my attempts to land there, shakes his head. We’re down aren’t we? Sandown to Bembridge, flight time 10 minutes. But it takes 50 minutes to get fuel, pay and get back in the air so we’re an hour behind. But we did meet another Cherokee of equivalent vintage, 1963 to our 1964, complete with sunroof handle trim.

G-VOID outside. G-VOID inside.

It’s not going well for me. It’s a bad radio day as well. “Shoreham Information, Golf Alpha Sierra Uniform Delta”. “GASUD, it’s Shoreham Approach, pass your message”. “Shoreham Radar, GASUD is ….”. “GASUD It’s Shoreham Approach …”. Fortunately, some people have a lot of patience. Tracking to Seaford VOR is an act of faith. The peninsula is barely visible and it appears we are flying away from land. But I can get something right.

Beachy Head. Tilbury.

Next task is to find Bewl Water which is proving elusive in the murk. But it’s found and passed and we're on our way to Rochester. A bit of diversionary action to avoid being strafed by a Tomahawk and then across the Thames on to Hanningfield and then home.

Ooh! I get to land on the new runway matting. But the bad day is not over yet. The matting proves quite bouncy (or maybe my approach was too fast) and I get my full money’s worth on the landing card. Never mind only Pete and Steve B are witnesses and I can buy their silence with beer. Oh no! Bob is out with his camera.

Make the most of the landing card.

An eventful day, not the greatest visibility, and not the greatest flying performance, but I wouldn’t trade a day out like that with the Circus for a Learjet. Sandown was the intended destination for the very first HFC flyout, but we didn’t make it that time. So four years later I can tick it off the list. Now if that Learjet were a Mustang I might reconsider… no actually I’ll stick.

[Text: Rob ("I feel a need to handle this one")]

[Photos: Bob, Pete, Rob & Wingco, click here to see the them all]