As the guest of David Brown, vice president of the SAAA, I was honoured to be given the left hand seat of his RV10. A short flight from Caboolture in any aircraft, Watts Bridge seemed mere minutes away in David's Rocket Vehicle. Before I had time to fully acquaint myself with the glass, we were approaching the circuit at 160knots.
The one sure downside of flying in to an event is the audience - there to ensure you conduct the least elegant landing of your life. Luckily for me, David talked me through mine, as I am not fortunate enough to fly such a high powered aircraft, and with the combination of very little wind and a grass surface (oh so forgiving) the landing was fine. Which is just as well, because everybody was there.
As I drooled and dribbled (and other unladylike things) at the amazing array of aircraft, I was approached by a gentleman called Ron Ennis who asked me if I like to go for a fly in his Tiger Moth. And not just any old Tiger Moth, but the most immaculate example of a Tiger Moth I have ever seen. I donned the leather cap and headset before he could change his mind.
My work leads me to many, many interesting aircraft, but never in my life have I felt so special, so privileged, as I did in this beautiful deHavilland. As we taxiied to the runway, people waved, photographers clicked and mobile phones flashed - I felt like an Amelia, complete with goggles.
As we lined up, we received a call from two other Tiger Moths, wanting to take off and fly in formation with us. I caught the sight of our shadow on the ground; our trio of biplanes in formation. It was most breath-taking shadow I had seen since I was a child, catching my own on the wall one sunny afternoon, convincing myself I was, for a moment, tall.
We remained in formation for about ten mins, and I watched with delight as we danced around each other, sometimes seeming to fly backwards. After we pulled out of formation, Ron handed her over to me for a fly. Once you get used to the noise (and remember to keep your head out of the slip stream) they are such beautiful birds to fly (although Ron wasn't game enough to let me attempt to land her). My stinging nose was a sign to turn back to the airfield, where Ron took over. The landing was so soft I didn't even hear or feel the wheels touch the grass.
As we taxiied in, the crowd of wavers returned and I yearned for red lipstick and my leather flying boots. All I could do was wave, and smile and pretend that the perfect landing (and that perfect Tiger Moth) was all mine....
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