Bob Struthers/John Tullett. 1990

During December, 1990, Bob Struthers and John Tullett spent a couple of weeks at Benalla and this is John's story.


BENALLA REVISITED

This second trip to Australia was not as flashily successful for me as the first. No badge legs achieved, no fantastic 10,000ft thermals, no
"guaranteed" days. Instead, two months after getting back, there is a quiet sense of achievement.

Out of the ten "paid for" days, we had four days when a high temperature low blanketed the area, giving fine days, 25C plus, temperatures but no thermals. I did though have couple of memorable flights.

After eight days of local flying, Bob and I decided that Thursday the 20th of December was it. Bob declared a 750; (Benalla/Temora/Hay/Benalla and I declared a 500, (Benalla/Temora/Benalla.

I took off at 10.45 and, after a slow start, got to a range of hills called the Warbies and flopped about a bit. Bob radioed and said that he was over Wangaratta so I headed off to join him. I was hesitant to leave Wangaratta, what with no clouds to mark the way, but Bob had a theory that it was always over the river. I hadn't landed out before, but my wimpy aggression gradually strengthened and as I crossed the Murray, the thermals got better and I made quick time to Oil Tree Lagoon and even quicker time to The Rock. I fluked a couple of cloudless streets and flew for some long stretches at 70 knots. Chatter between Bob and others ahead of me indicated a lack of thermals and if I'd had any foresight I would have turned back.

But my wimpy aggression turned to immortal superiority and I pushed on, got over the Murrumbidgee, out of thermal and into an average sized paddock (which later turned out to be 150 acres). It was 2pm when I landed, 11pm when John Williamson arrived to pick me up and 4.30am before I got to bed.

A second memorable flight occurred six hours later when I took my Christmas Lucky Dip for a ride. "A minimum of one hours flight in Mike (Platypus) Bird's Ash 25"! I could describe the sensation of take-off where the wing-tips rose and the fuselage followed, or the sheer comfort of the back seat, or the nearly four hours of mountain soaring, but I won't. The highlight was the final glide. We were 70km from Benalla at a place called Mt Beauty. And at 6000ft. We flew in a straight line home and with a little dolphin soaring, arrived over Benalla at 800ft.

Have I got any suggestions for the glider replacement fund?


John Tullett

And Bob's story:

A 750KM ATTEMPT


When I read John Tullett's story of his big landout, I thought my side of the same day might be worth telling.

As John indicated, the weather at Benalla hadn't been up to normal Aussie standard so it was a case of mob hysteria when four of us headed north that day.
The Temora turn-point was 270km away and the sky didn't look that flash. I was first away in the Kestrel followed by John in his Mosquito, Mike Bird in his ASH 25 and an Aussie sheila in a Discus

North of the Murray River, the sky was all blue but I made reasonable time to The Rock, or thought I had until chatter between John and Mike indicated they were closing up on me. Sure enough, about opposite Wagga, Mike went steaming past with his great long wings waving up and down. A sight never to be forgotten.

Over the Murrumbidgee and past Coolamon when I fell into a dirty great hole and was down to about 1200ft when Mike informed me on the radio that he was about a mile away and climbing at umpteen knots. Never did a Pommie voice sound so sweet! Although I'm circling madly and looking upwards, I can't see him but however, he can see me. Suddenly, there he is, about at least 3000ft above me so I zap over and by pure good luck find the bottom of his thermal. Oh sweet relief! (**)

After I've rounded Temora, John gives me the sad news that he is about to land out north of Coolamon -- the "hole" is still there. The Aussie sheila has turned back from The Rock and Mike, who I've apparently overtaken is heading for Tocumwal. My second leg to Hay is into wind and progress is slow. Eventually I call it off and head for home via Narrandera and Urana. I'm now in survival mode, but at 7pm the thermals are weak and I've just about made it to the Murray River, about 70km from home. I tinker with the idea of getting across the river but wisdom prevails and I finally slide to a halt in a mile-wide paddock of wheat stubble.

The trailer finally arrives at about 10.30pm (car trouble) and I'm in the sack by midnight. John's bed is still empty.

Only 500km instead of 750 but a great day all the same.


Bob Struthers


(**) Bob later told me that his radio call to Mike was - "Thanks Mike, you've saved my bacon." Mike's reply - "You're welcome."