Alderney

Channel crossing - Still learning

Crossing the Channel can be a bit of a challenge.  This occasion was no exception.

In the morning of 21st May, 9 pilots were casting their eyes toward the skies with dampened optimism.  Despite low cloud there was sufficient visibility to maintain VFR but SVFR requirements were unlikely to be met.  However, conditions were said to be improving and as is the norm, each pilot is ultimately responsible for himself and must consider his personal competencies.  With this in mind we pressed ahead with pre-flight checks.

Some ran into complications from the outset when it transpired their flight plan had been lost in cyberspace, courtesy of the teething problems of the new computerised AFPEx system.  A few frantic phone calls & plenty of expletives later, all was sorted satisfactorily.  (For the information of those who have a distinct lack of masochistic tendencies, the submission of flight plans by fax remains an option).

True to his word, G-CLIF took to the skies at the stroke of 10 and the rest of us scrambled to the threshold in pursuit of mother goose.

Ambiguity soon evaporated toward the IoW beyond which SVRF minima were amply exceeded.

Flying in relative close proximity of each other a good look-out was foremost on our minds.  Fellow pilots' vigilance was re-affirmed when Bournemouth Radar asked pilot "X" whether he copied an aircraft in his 4 o'clock.  "Affirmative" it echoed through the airwaves.  "I can see one on my right behind".  Mr X obviously fervently supports making RT phraseology less prescriptive.

As usual, we were instructed to descent to 1,000 feet at Ortac.

A tad of confusion crept in when Alderney Tower instructed the first aircraft to land 26 LH and promptly changed its instruction to 08 RH for the rest of us.

There were broad grins all-round as we peeled off our immersion suits, signed in, paid landing fees and answered a call of nature before a leisurely stroll down to the pub for a bit of grub.

The sun did not disappoint this first day of spring.  We sauntered down to the harbour where we were greeted by what could have been a Caribbean bay.  The perfect place to take that certain person should you need to redeem yourself.

Looking at a cloudless azure sky it was hard to imagine what fickle Mother Nature had in store for our return journey.

Actually, to blame "the powers that be" for all and sundry without apportioning some to us, mere mortals, would be grossly unjust.  Before we even got airborne we realised the controller really was having a bad day when he decided to leave his tower and give one of our group a talking to.  "Do you know you haven't filed a flight plan" he shouted from the window with which said passenger shouted back  "He's....  doing.... it.... now".  One sad pilot tried starting his engine without permission and was left in no doubt of his sin.   Another crossed the holding point for which he received a stern reprimand and public lecture on "the protocol aircraft must adhere to on an airfield governed by Air Traffic Control as opposed to that on a farm strip"; and unbeknownst to the rest of us one pilot couldn't get his engine started at all and we set off without him.

Tracking back to Ortac it was obvious the cloud base was lowering significantly.

Having left Jersey Zone vis of water at an altitude of 3,000 feet was intermittent and conditions become such that it wasn't the best visibility for VFR flying, to put it mildly.  The weather continued to deteriorate the closer we got to the IoW stretching the boundaries of our abilities and we were concerned we'd have to turn back.

To everybody's gargantuan relief 10 nm from Nedul it cleared up to at least 15 nm vis and we continued to track to Old Sarum under the watchful eye of Bournemouth Zone.

Many invaluable lessons were learnt that day.

Let's do it again soon Cliff & Hughie, Roger, Mike, Trevor & Bryan, John & Nick