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Aviation History
1952
1952 - 1644.PDF
7io FLIGHT, 13 June 1952 SINGLE-ENGINE SAFARI From Paris to Central Africa and Back in a Four Seater: Part I—the Outward Trip By LORENZO A. de MORELOS OUR good friend the distributor of Navions for France gave us a "going away" cocktail party. Cracks came thick and heavy about the bold and courageous navi gators, the foolhardy aviators, who were flying gaily off towards an unenviable last rest 'midst the crocodiles of the upper or lower reaches of the Nile. The belly of the little crate, they said, would be more or less happily posed on the steaming bosom of an inhospitable jungle after the 185th horse of its valiant motor had coughed its last. We had fixed our departure for two days later, but hzd stealthily announced it for the next day, thus saving an entire day for the too many errands traditionally left to the last minute. This scheme was far too successful, and our smugness at being left in peace turned to utter loneliness by the time we finally got away the next Sunday. By the Thursday night, when we sheepishly admitted we were still in Paris, we found out just how fleeting glory can be. Our meteorologically unenlightened pals, tears of farewell thoroughly dried, changed their good-natured cracks to undis guised boredom with the whole project. On Tuesday evening the weather bureau at Toussus predicted a rapid deterioration from extremely favourable conditioas. At seven on Wednesday morning, a severe QBI was in force and a deepening depression had spread on the north and the centre of France. Neither of us was what you would call experienced pilots. Laurent Rombaldi, an art-book publisher, had logged about 150 hours; my total was little more than double, so still to be sneezed at.* At least we knew our limits. Although the Navion was equipped with V.H.F./H.F. receiver and a radio-compass, elementary wisdom cautioned us not to make an I.F.R. flight-plan and leave with a ceiling offering no margin of security. For days the aircraft had been ready to leave, completely checked, oil changed and gas tanks filled; tools were in place, with a few spare parts. Our passports had long since been visa-ed by all the appropriate consulates. The weather bureau finally came up with better answers on the Sunday morning and we grabbed our bags, presents for friends in the Congo, parachutes, Mae Wests and guns. Throwing every thing into the car along with our most faithful supporters, we patted the family dog, who wore the distinctive look of one who expected to see us back within the hour. Our take-off weight amounted to within six pounds of the maximum permissible for the type. The loading problem was enough to please an experimental psychologist; by the time the last round duffle-bag was fitted into the last square corner, it had taken us an hour. With stuff up to the roof and the two of us seated at the controls, the nosewheel barely touched the ground, as duly noted by our camera-happy well-wishers. Then, after a quick lunch, another visit to the duty forecaster, to the control tower and touching good-byes, we were rolling on the runway . . . and went right on rolling. With the weight we were carrying we reached the three-quarter mark before we could pull off. If this happens at 390ft, we wondered, what'll it be at an equatorial 6,000? "Fox Sugar Roger, airborne at 1312." * Shortly after this trip, the author (who had done about 350 hours' flying before it) went to England to widen his academic, technical and prac tical knowledge; he is now the holder of a Commercial Pilot's Licence with Instrument Rating. IN this entertainingly phrased article, the French owner of an American light aircraft, a Ryan Navion (185 h.p. Continental), describes a trip which he and a friend made last June from Paris to the Belgian Congo; incidents on their return trip will be recounted in a second instalment. Both are pilots (and navigators) of comparatively modest experience, but their approach to the problems of single-engined flying over remote tropical areas seems, in general, to reflect a well-balanced appreciation of the risks that can so easily arise during ventures of this kind. The Navion's equipment consisted of full blind- flying panel, Lear A.D.F. and A.R.C. ten-channel V.H.F., and H.F. The weather, though improved, still was not too clear. At r,oooft, with visibility continually reduced by heavy showers, we flew around thunderstorms. Happily, the ceiling lifted a little as we approached the relief and, carefully choosing corridors, we arrived over Saint Etienne without having lost sight of the ground. Knowing that the weather over Southern France was clear, we passed to instruments and, jaws set, upper lips stiff, we pushed nto the overcast to climb to 7,500, A.D.F. tuned on the Montelimar beacon, in order to clear the last summits of the Cevennes. Suddenly, under an immaculate sky, the Rhone valley appeared and a fair mistral carried our ground speed to 145 knots. The serene Provence unfolded under our wings while isolated cumulo nimbus were beginning to disperse in that late afternoon over the Luberon and the Alps on our left. Four hours and five minutes after having taken off from Toussus, we sat down in Cannes. We still had time to take a swim in the almost fantastic blue at Eden Roc that the cocktail hour had left pleasantly private. After dinner we took a walk around the harbour and talked about the Africa we would challenge the next day. By 0900 we were ready to leave. This time we had to add to the usual pre-flight checks and consultations the police and Customs formalities and the strapping on of our Mae Wests. Still heavily, we took off, and then climbed on instruments in a shimmering haze of fine weather which dissolved the Mediterranean horizon except for the still snow-covered mountains of Corsica, which we skirted at a distance, having set course on Sardinia. The whole time we were in R/T. communication with the "Cassis" fixers, then the "Corsos." The wind again was with us and, as soon as we passed Sardinia, we could talk with Tunisia, from our flying height of 9,500ft. The African coast came into focus—Bizerte, Tunis—and we landed at El Aouina Airport after a flight of 3 hours 40 minutes. Our only mistake thus far seemed to have been in wearing shorts; our thighs were thoroughly sunburned. Thanks to capable and obliging personnel, all formalities at El Aouina are rapidly concluded and lose their almost universally tedious aspects. After a short stroll through the Arab town, we hurried back to the hotel, our maps, protractors, parallel rules, computers and plotting charts, and prepared our navigation for the following days. With the kind help of the Aero Club of Tunisia, we could in one morning visit the authorities for final instructions regarding flights over areas of unpatrolled desert. This led us to pyrotechnists, grocers and pharmacists respectively, to gather flares, cans and first-aid kits which, with a five-gallon canteen of drinking water, had to be added to our load, according to regulations. From then on we wore nothing but light and loose flying suits, which proved to be the best outfits for flights in warm countries. At 1,500ft we flew at a low altitude over ancient Carthage, cut across to the coast of Gulf of Gabes and followed it at such The route taken by the Navion on the outward flight across France and the Mediterranean, along the North African coast, and down to the Congo. •il^mmm ^Pf •NPARIS \Ibussus-le- Noble; Ssrdi. (ElAxma) ~„<1 » LEI Anuria) *"SJ w TRIPOLI (Castel Benito) ^BENGHAZI ^MARBLE ARCH ? Lake Irumu^-^XEiward RUTSURUV-l
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