|
|
|
|
BRABAZON AND ON (Part 7)
However there was always a very special perk available to raise the spirits in FRD – the right contacts could always get you up into the sunshine! Two of these stand out in my memory. |
|
The chief flight Test Observer had promised on a flight in the Brabazon when the opportunity arose. The observer manning the Fuel Panel (AOP15?) suddenly went down ill and I was invited to stand in to my great delight. The aircraft was flying unpressurised at the time; in fact I am not sure that it ever did fly pressurised. The cavernous fuselage was bitterly cold and noisy. Now I still think to this day it was a special send-up for me, but during the crew briefing it became apparent that the occupant of AOP5 was also responsible for the emergency lowering of the undercarriage should this become necessary! The giant aircraft was already taxiing as I was put through a rehearsal of what was required. Firstly it was necessary to remove a hatch in the wing-root to gain access to the walkway which passed behind the engines to the undercarriage bay. Walking upright was no problem – the wing was over six feet thick! The noise in this area was indescribable, even through a leather helmet, and I was not the least surprised to learn at a later time that structure was beginning to be seriously affected by acoustic fatigue in this area. The aircraft was moving quite quickly towards its take off point as I could appreciate by watching the ground through the open undercarriage doors – about the size of a small dining room! It was at this location that I would have had to operate some sequence valves and a hydraulic hand-pump, and noticed with some alarm the complete absence of any safety harness or anchor point. However I did look out a suitable hand hold for future reference! There was just time to regain my station at the AOP as the huge aircraft started its lumbering take-off. During the flight, piloted by Mr. Pegg and Mr Gibb of course, I was invited to view the flight deck. We made our way steadily south over Somerset, and when I noticed us losing height above a boys’ school with many pupils gathering in the grounds I realised this was probably a presentation for Mr. Pegg’s son. (He was later killed, I believe, in a tragic motor cycle accident). As I watched them milling around I wondered how it felt to have a dad bring the worlds’ largest aircraft for your pals to see. At this time there was an Air Exclusion Order banning other aircraft from approaching nearer than several miles from the Brabazon, but on this occasion, on the way back to Filton curiosity got the better of a Harvard pilot, who approached us but not dangerously so. Later it was reported that he had been prosecuted and fined for this breach. The flight deck presented an impressive array on instruments due in part of course to the aircraft having eight engines, but I was somewhat surprised when a red-light illuminated which none of the crew could identify. There was much thumbing through of manuals but as far as I know it was not identified until after landing – without detriment to the flight, fortunately. As the leisurely flight continued the coupled engines produced a reassuring beat – not unlike the hummingbird noises familiar in the David Attenborough wild-life programmes. I suppose the thought uppermost in my mind as we strapped in for landing was that the undercarriage would operate normally and then, sure enough, out of the corner of my eye I saw another crew member pointing gleefully at the wings whilst making a pumping action towards me. Fortunately I had already heard ‘three greens’ called on the intercom by the Flight Engineer and beautifully smooth landing completed the flight of a lifetime. The Brabazon flew safely, but not very swiftly, for about two hundred flights with only a few untoward incidents. On one occasion a serious loss of hydraulic oil was rectified by substituting supplies from the huge (canteen type) coffee urns carried on all flights in the aircrafts ample-size kitchen. On another occasion the final push rod to an aileron snapped during the last few minutes of the pre-flight control functioning. It was found that earlier check-stressing had revealed a strength problem requiring additional taper pins, but although this modification had been formally issued it had somehow got lost among the massive amount of paper work associated with the test aircraft, and had not be actioned. How serious this failure would have been in flight and whether the aileron would have harmlessly ‘trailed’ will never be known of course. In a recent fascinating lecture Walter Gibb modestly described his part in the test flight, including the mind-boggling stall tests carried out on an aircraft of this size! Apparently the vibration at approach to stall was so severe it was almost enough to shake the crew from their seats. However, the same wing always dropped and recover was always straight forward until of course just to emphasise the perversity of aerodynamics on just one occasion only it flipped over onto the other side! Another memorable, but less enjoyable, flight took place in Britannia G.A…again the Chief Observer pulling the necessary string for me. Unusually the sole pilot was Mr. Pegg and the only observer a new employee with ginger hair and beard, so I was allowed to occupy the co-pilots seat. We took off immediately after a hearty lunch in extreme turbulence and to my dismay I began immediately to feel airsick, something which together with sea sickness by some quirk I had never experienced during my life! I felt so ashamed at the prospect, particularly in view of this scrounged flight, but fortunately it soon passed off. The tests to be undertaken involved measuring rates of roll due to specified aileron inputs in both directions. Starting off with modest inputs they proceeded through an exciting stage to what I personally considered alarming. Finally the bank angle was reaching at least the vertical and then contact was lost with the observer in the cabin. Mr Pegg asked me if I would mind going back to investigate – he was a great gentleman. I shall never forget the sight that greeted me. The observer was crouched on the floor, his bright green face framed by ginger hair and beard and all flaked with vomit. “I’ve had enough” he confided in me as I made him as comfortable as possible. So had I and so fortunately had Mr Pegg as he passed this message. “We have control problem – I am not doing any more or we shall be on our elbows – returning now”. I was more than happy to go along with this. The return flight and landing provided quite an insight to the problem as it was becoming increasingly difficult for the pilot to hold the wings level. Investigation shows there had been a fault with the fuel transfer system – one wing being almost empty and the other one almost full of fuel. Perhaps before future joy rides I would make discreet enquiries of the content of the Flight-Test Programme! The late Tony Wilkey |
