Landing On!
(not landing out)
This article originally appeared in the August, 2018 issue of the legacy RC Soaring Digest. We reprise it here with higher resolution photos (click any picture a larger version) as well as live links to Chris’s videos — Ed.
It will not have escaped the notice of those who sometimes pay attention to the outside world, that we live in changing times. One of the things that I have noticed in recent years is the changing of once reliable weather patterns. Now, unlike most of their powered counterparts, scale sailplanes have the luxury of being operated at two completely different venues: either from the slope, or from the flat via aerotow. The latter has not really been too affected by the changing weather, but in my part of the world (the county of Dorset in Southern England) the once slope-friendly winds have become surly and uncooperative, vindictively blowing in all the directions that are of no use to us at all.
There is a reason that many of us, if forced to declare a preference between aerotow and slope flying, would prefer to fly our scale models from the slope (hoping all the while that no tug pilots were listening). The reason is this: operating from the hill allows for repeated close-proximity flying, thus enabling the pilot to appreciate and enjoy the fruits of his or her labour, and as a side benefit, listen to the satisfying sounds of an airframe politely asking the air to move aside. (What about the beautiful scenery, I hear you ask? Yes, that too.)
So, given that slope opportunities have become few and far between, what about those days when the wind is on the slope, but light, and it would take a brave soul to launch off, faced with the possibility of landing out rather than landing on?
I should point out that landing out, especially to those of advancing years, is not a prospect to be contemplated lightly. By the time you have staggered to the bottom of the hill, the knees will have turned to rubber. Now you have to negotiate wild shrubbery, a barbed wire fence, an ocean of stinging nettles, and the task of finding your beloved model in a dense field of corn or barley: not a deed that will garner approval from the hard-working farmer. Having found your model, its time for the journey to be reversed, with the addition of a large, awkward, and puzzlingly twice-as-heavy glider.
Now your ancient lungs will be put to the test, as your legs seem to become a year older with every step and you start to sound like a steam engine with a secret sorrow. At least, you say to yourself, I can count on my pals for sympathy and support, just as howls of derision reach your ears from the safety of the top of the hill.
As you can see, the pleasures and perils of flying in such conditions can be balanced one way or the other, so what if pleasure could win the day?
When I was ejected from the world of work into retirement some seven years ago, one of the items on my bucket list was to find out what all the fuss concerning electric flight was about. Coincidentally, my own slope soaring club, the WSRFC, was trialling the use of electric assist (e-assist) models for use on the slope. (White Sheet Radio Flying Club. The word Radio tells how old this institution is!)
Firing up the PC, I set to designing a couple of small versions of the BJ1 Duster, each with a moustache on the front end. Encouraged by the result, I then went off at a tangent and designed a couple of different sized versions of the Kaiser K11 motorglider. Before I could stop myself, a quarter scale Fournier RF5 appeared, but none of this was really tackling the original question. Then, a moment of epiphany: my pal Motley Crew did the unthinkable: he electrified one of the huge Phoenix K8’s that were all the rage at the time. (This was when they were starting to fall out of the sky. Motley stripped his, added some proper wing spars, thus coining the phrase ‘Certificate of Mottification’)
We found ourselves, late one summer afternoon, on the edge of the hallowed SW bowl of White Sheet Hill with said model. The wind was on, but somewhat lacking on oomph, sometimes going off for a well earned rest. An invisible message passed between myself and the third member of our little gang, Barrington V. Smallpiece: he gasped and grabbed his ankle, I grabbed the transmitter, and the Herculean task of launching the monster was left to Motley. Once in the air, a short burst of power saw the K8 safely above the horizon and the fun started. Given the conditions, the usual howl of the wind in the earholes was notably absent, and as the big model aviated by us in a series of low passes, we heard the siren song of the airstream being gently modulated by those tiny control movements so necessary to flight, and as she whispered by, it almost seemed as if the model was alive. It was an electric moment (pun not intended) and the die was cast — I wanted some of that!
Back home, the excitement still buzzing (darn it, another pun!) I cast around through my design back-catalogue, looking for inspiration. It came in the form of the 3.5 scale Slingsby Dart, surely a contender? Using the Turnigy G60 to turn the prop, the Dart was an immediate winner, displaying all the visual and sonic themes of the K8, but at a much more manageable size. Faster than you can blink, along came an e-assist version of my Bergfalke 4, also a winner. You’d think I would be satisfied now, wouldn’t you, but the scale policeman that lives in the head of all scale modellers started getting nasty, pointing out that the Dart and the Bergfalke’s face furniture was definitely not scale, and even removing the propeller couldn’t make it so. Luckily, Smallpiece, a retired engineer, came up with a plan, and I set about putting it into practice on the next design, the Scheibe Zugvogel.
This is how it works: all my gliders have a solid nose block, made up from several applications of car body filler. A suitable hole is drilled through the nose into the fuselage bulkhead, followed by two further holes lower down to allow the ingress of cooling air. The motor is handed to, who removes the original drive shaft, and inserts a longer one, facing the other way. He also supplies a bearing to support it at the front, and an aluminium housing to support the bearing. The housing is inset in the nose in order to swallow most of the propeller gubbins, leaving the prop flush with the nose, all nice and neat. Now for the pièce de résistance: with the prop removed, a blanking plate is made up to fit over the prop shaft, the length of which finishes flush with the nose. Voila! Only a close inspection will show that something un-scale lurks inside, and when the wind blows, the model reverts to being a glider ordinaire. So excited by this anesthetising of the scale policeman in my head, two more models quickly followed, the WA 22 Super Javelot and Scheibe LC10 Topaze.
Smallpiece’s genius knows no bounds: he also came up with the all-aluminium-sideways-tow-release, thus allowing e-assist gliders to be aerotowed as well, and therefore overcoming the problem of all the ironmongery at the front end getting in the way of a conventional release. (I wonder if the release will now cost 25% more with all the tariffs’ flying about? Can you believe it? Another pun!)
Let me set forth a scenario for you. Imagine two scale soarers launching in quick succession off the hillside, one with e-assist and one without. The wind is on the slope, but is fitful and full of lethargy. At first the lift is good and allows both models to get above that all-time regulator of good and bad, the horizon. Then, reality bites, and both models start sinking. My stance is one of relaxation, the other guy has started to stiffen and breathe a little more heavily. Never mind, the lift will pick up again in a minute or two, won’t it? Both models sink lower. If I was the other guy, I would have plonked my model down by now, somewhere, any where, but he’s an optimist. Time to bail out: I open the throttle. With the motor set up I currently use, even full throttle produces only a pleasant low hum, unlikely to annoy even the most ardent e-assist critic. A six second burst sees the model some 200 feet above the horizon, and settling down once again to glide mode. The sun is getting low, we’re in the middle of nowhere, the only sounds are gentle lowing of the cattle, the hum of insects, and the ancient sound of the Sailplane Song, a whispering atmospheric melody in C major. A quick loop, and the key changes to a higher pitch as the glider whistles around like a leaky kettle. One more burst of power sees her set up for a landing, the airbrakes adding some zest to the orchestra, and the ghostly overture ends as the wheel gently touches the grass.
As I sit there afterwards, draining the remains of the coffee flask, I ruminate that if this was heaven, it would be well worth praying for. I hear a gasping, wheezing sound as the other guy finally makes it back to the top. I know him well, it’s the me of Christmas Past, but I am older and wiser now, right?
Update
Since this article was originally penned, it must have come to the attention of the Weather Gods that I was having way too much fun and they decided that enough was enough. Now, we hardly ever get one of those days when a light wind blows gently on to a nearby hill and the e-assist gliders whisper up to a safe altitude. Instead, we get industrial quantities of breeze, and only the F3F guys get any fun.
Tailpiece
Don’t just take my word for the foregoing: it’s all been recorded for posterity and uploaded to YouTube and the links can be found in Resources below. Thanks for reading!
©2018, 2022 Chris Williams
Resources
- The Williams Anthology — The collected works of Chris Williams as found in the pages of the New RC Soaring Digest.
- E DARTIFICATION! (video) — “My old Dart 17R plan is updated to allow slope flying in very light conditions.”
- E BERGIFICATION! (video) — “Bergfalke IV…it’s electrifying! The E-version of my Scheibe Bergfalke IV plan, filmed in various locations in Southern England”
- The Zugvogel Flies (video) — “1st flights with the new 1:3.5 scale Zugvogel IIIa”
- Airborne with the Super Javelot (video) — “1st flights with the Super Javelot”
- THE TOPAZE GOES ELECTRIC (video) — “The Topaze goes ELECTRIC…!”
Read the next article in this issue, return to the previous article in this issue or go to the table of contents. A PDF version of this article, or the entire issue, is available upon request.
