Next Time

Low clouds a kilometre to the west were dark with base that was moving around and looking stormy. I almost turned around to make good use of time and continue packing up the house but thought better of it. While there's a chance to fly, no matter how small, its wise to be ready to go so I continued into Merewether. This proved to be a good move.

The sky was blue east of the beach and looked like it would eventually move inland with the cloud and any rain also receding away from the launch. I set-up the C4 sort of wishing I had a Fun or a Falcon to fly instead. The topless is great but these perfect conditions; SE wind with 15 knots feel like a play ground in the sportier intro gliders.

I got off and headed south and snuck into the three bowls at The Gun Club, the next cliff a kilometre down the beach. Each bowl steps up a little and gives a characteristic 'bump' when you transition to the next one. I worked each bowl, rode the three bumps and soon had enough height to make an attempt for Legie Point. Once around that headland I topped out and very slowly meandered back and forward in the lift, nose pointing out to the pacific, and, towards clouds!

Thermals? I wondered as I eyed benign looking cumulus that formed a few kilometres out over the ocean, upwind, growing ever so slowly as they drifted landward. How often good looking cumulus leave our expectations unfulfilled but as the line of diffuse cloud moved in my heart beat a little faster when the C4 gently eased up its nose a few degrees as we flew through the outer margins of a thermal. No instruments had me guessing 200'/minute maximum climb with averages about 100'/min. The core's margin through to its centre was an easy read as it leaned skyward through the uniform and smooth coastal seabreeze.

Big wide circles slowly lifted me higher. I could see well into Lake Macquarie 10 kilometres to the west. The handfull of gliders at Merewether looked much smaller now and further north the harbour of Newcastle revealed a ship getting manoeuvred inside the breakwalls by a few tugs. What looked best of all was the cloudstreet a little further inland and above by another 1500'. Continuing to climb at the same rate with the same drift would take me straight to the nearest solid cumulus, beyond which was a sky full of lift. I started looking at the cloud spread; cumulus everywhere inland as far as the eye could see, the Hunter Valley was lined-up with the drift, and cloudbase looked dark, moving in a way that said 'here's the lift, just a little higher and its yours!'

I drifted and climbed a little, moved around slightly to keep tabs on the thermal or to straighten up into the seabreeze when another stronger core fed into a cloud as it formed upwind. The climb strength was always dying at about the same altitude and I realised I would need just one climb with a little more 'oomph' than the average to link up to cloud and 'get away'.

As the potential became more of a real chance I started preparing, going through the options in the back of my mind. No pack-up gear, no instruments, no radio, no phone and no water. The latter was a concern not because of any danger but I learned a long time ago to fly for hours without it degrades the whole flight in everyway: in concentration, coordination, relaxation, even before you get thirsty mild dehyration takes the edge off your performance. I was aware I could do with a drink now. The two things I did have were money and a destiation. A quick calculation; 4 hours of flight time with 35-40 kph groundspeed would have me at Petes place at Denman. Pete is a top bloke and loves to tow us out of his huge farm from one of his numerous runways. I thought ahead and could see him walking out of his hangar with a couple of beers as I came in on finals. Doesn't hurt to dream.

Relaxing in the harness, the slight exertions, the subtle shifting about the centre of the basebar to guide the wing, monitoring the course of the glider, all this happening without thinking about it was about to be broken. That quiet trance we get from the mantra of turning flat, smooth and slow but slightly different circles had a time limit, ending soon. A line of blue sky appeared and was moving in giving about another ten minutes to climb to the clouds. After that the clouds were gone. Milking everything a little more and drifting just a little further seemed only to serve as a brake. My hit rate on the core seemed to drop off slightly. The grip was a little tighter. I remembered from many other flights like this one, 'do less and get more'. But getting more is not the point, relax and feel the air, then the flying is easy. What a mindset; to achieve the goal forget about chasing it. Chess with a difference! (and so much more...)

The blue line approached and the lift died out. My view of the lake disappeared as the altitude dropped. I hung around searching but realised the chance was gone. I made a b-line out over the ocean in front of leggie point and as the ridge lift faded I turned cross tail and into a shallow dive, out over the ocean heading for the slopes in front of Merewether. By the time I leveled out over the beach I was at 50' with the tips threatening to flutter. Matching the gradient of the hill I climbed, slowing down, and then gently banked into a shallow turn for the steeper cliffs off to the north.

Throughout the afternoon I kept an eye on the sky and watched the clouds continue to shrink to the west, further and further out of reach.

Someone better would have made it. And to see a hang glider circling over the back, linking up with a cloud street and heading inland and eventually out of sight would almost be as good as doing it in person.

Looking forward to next time.