…in more ways than one.
Part of the reason I was in Newcastle was because Billo had invited me to the Club Christmas party which was supposed to include a weekend of aerotowing and camping in the countryside west of Newcastle, as well as the party on Saturday night.
The rain nixed the towing on Saturday, but it was blowing in nicely at the coast in town, and pilots started to come out of the woodwork. I met Tony Barton at Merriweather, and Billo soon showed up, and before long there were a dozen pilots. I launched into nicely soarable, though slightly north cross conditions. Soon I was 300ft over launch soaring the cliffs in front. I saw another pilot lower than me make a run to the next low hills to the south, so I decided to follow. I lost hardly any altitude getting there, and arrived just as the other pilot was heading back north. Suddenly I started to get drilled – it takes no time at all to lose 300ft, and I quickly found myself back at launch level but far down the beach. I started to make my way back into the wind, but it soon became clear I was not going to make it back to the cliffs in front of launch. My only hope was to soar the low dunes in front of the bottom landing area and try to eke my way back up. When I got there I was too low to land in the bottom landing area, and I was looking at landing on the beach. Having little confidence that I could work my way up the low dunes, I decided on a beach landing. Never having flown at the coast, I was paranoid about ending up in the water, so I made my approach cross wind along the beach, planning to turn into the wind at the last moment. Well my timing was off and the brisk onshore breeze lifted my oceanward wing and turned me inland and downwind. I “wuffed” into the sand and the wind caught the trailing edge of the wing and flipped it over; trapping me in my harness on top of the inverted wing. It was the first flight on this harness, and it took me a couple of minutes to figure out how to extract myself. Nothing was damaged but my pride – but what a great way to make an impression on the locals! I carried my harness and glider up onto the bench above the beach and prepared to breakdown and make the long trudge up the cliff back to launch with my gear – there’s no road access to the beach here. In the meantime, Billo had landed in the bottom landing area, and came over. “Don’t breakdown here” he says, “just walk your glider up the hill a bit and re-launch and scratch your way up” Ughh. It sounded like a good idea in principle, but I wasn’t sure my confidence was up to it. I suppose it’s worth a try. Definitely better than carrying the glider back to the top of the hill.
Well, I did launch and sure enough slowly scratched my way back up to 300ft over the hill. This time I decided not to try any fancy stuff – I made a few passes and then headed north to the landing area at Dixon Beach. It’s a fairly tight spot with power poles on one side, a paved parking lot on the other, and a few play structures scattered in between. I was determined to have a good landing this time, so I carefully judged my altitude and started my downwind, base, final. I thought I might be a touch high, but it was good reserve to make sure I cleared the power poles. The downwind leg was fast, and my downwind to base turn had me drifting back further than I wanted to. Thank god for that reserve altitude! I skimmed across the road at about 20 ft with lots of airspeed, headed up the slight incline into the wind, let the nose up and touched down for a perfect no-stepper.
The party that evening was at the home of Matt Clarke, the club president. It is a sprawling place in the mountains west of town. I had directions, but fortunately I also had someone to follow, or I might have never found it. On the drive out I saw my first Australian mammal. I spotted a wallaby along side the road , then soon there was another. Then hopping off into the bush was a kangaroo. Suddenly there were a dozen wallabies hopping this way and that.
It was a fun party and a great group of people. I was still a little embarrassed about my beach “landing”, but Billo brushed it off – “You’re not the first and you won’t be the last” Scott Barret, one of the local hot-shots introduced himself. “Yeah” he said, “I was flying with you today.” “Oh, so you saw my beach landing”, “No,” he replied without missing a beat “I saw a crash”. Ouch. OK, I deserved that. Then Conrad (another of the top local pilots) came by “Nice landing today”. “Oh, so you saw my beach debacle. Scott and I have concluded it was more of a crash.” “No” he said, “I didn’t see that. I saw you land a Dixon Park. You came in right over my car. Most pilots flying there the first time misjudge it and end up overshooting and ending up in the carpark” Well that was a little salve for my injured pride.
There are two major Hang Glider manufacturers in Australia. Moyes is located in Sydney, and Airborne in Newcastle. Moyes gliders are the standard at Stanwell Park and around the Sydney area, but Newcastle is definitely an Airborne town. And thus the pun in the title. My Moyes Litespeed marked me as an outsider as surely as my American accent. All in all I can’t exactly say that I made a good first impression on the locals.
And that was my first flight in Australia.
The rain nixed the towing on Saturday, but it was blowing in nicely at the coast in town, and pilots started to come out of the woodwork. I met Tony Barton at Merriweather, and Billo soon showed up, and before long there were a dozen pilots. I launched into nicely soarable, though slightly north cross conditions. Soon I was 300ft over launch soaring the cliffs in front. I saw another pilot lower than me make a run to the next low hills to the south, so I decided to follow. I lost hardly any altitude getting there, and arrived just as the other pilot was heading back north. Suddenly I started to get drilled – it takes no time at all to lose 300ft, and I quickly found myself back at launch level but far down the beach. I started to make my way back into the wind, but it soon became clear I was not going to make it back to the cliffs in front of launch. My only hope was to soar the low dunes in front of the bottom landing area and try to eke my way back up. When I got there I was too low to land in the bottom landing area, and I was looking at landing on the beach. Having little confidence that I could work my way up the low dunes, I decided on a beach landing. Never having flown at the coast, I was paranoid about ending up in the water, so I made my approach cross wind along the beach, planning to turn into the wind at the last moment. Well my timing was off and the brisk onshore breeze lifted my oceanward wing and turned me inland and downwind. I “wuffed” into the sand and the wind caught the trailing edge of the wing and flipped it over; trapping me in my harness on top of the inverted wing. It was the first flight on this harness, and it took me a couple of minutes to figure out how to extract myself. Nothing was damaged but my pride – but what a great way to make an impression on the locals! I carried my harness and glider up onto the bench above the beach and prepared to breakdown and make the long trudge up the cliff back to launch with my gear – there’s no road access to the beach here. In the meantime, Billo had landed in the bottom landing area, and came over. “Don’t breakdown here” he says, “just walk your glider up the hill a bit and re-launch and scratch your way up” Ughh. It sounded like a good idea in principle, but I wasn’t sure my confidence was up to it. I suppose it’s worth a try. Definitely better than carrying the glider back to the top of the hill. 
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