The pics have been posted...here's the story...
GYRO SQUADRON 196 – WILD COAST TOUR APRIL 2008
Dave Lehr
The Cape Winelands fell away below us as “Gyro Squadron 196†began the climb towards Franschhoek Pass. Just minutes earlier we had bid farewell to our ground crew at Fisantekraal (FAFK) before taking to the skies in perfect weather, the three Magni M16 and Sycamore Eagle gyros forming up into a loose diamond formation with Jonathan taking the lead.
Safely over the mountains, we followed the Riviersonderend to Swellendam airfield, stopping briefly for a leg-stretch and fuel top-up before continuing along the course of the Breede River towards the coast. The ever-accommodating FAOB ATC cleared us to route coastwise through FAR47 from Witsand to the Gouritz River mouth, whereupon we traced the beaches, bays and inlets coastwise to Mossel Bay Aero (FAMO) for lunch. The scenic Garden Route coastline between Wilderness and Knysna must rank as one of the most breathtakingly beautiful areas of the country to fly over. Thickly wooded forests form the backdrop to towering headlands which shelter pristine white beaches and hidden holiday coves. We winged our way over the Knysna Heads before touching down at Plettenberg Bay (FAPG) as the sun dipped towards the horizon.
We awoke to another day of perfect weather, and before long the gyros were turning out over Robberg Peninsula and past Plett’s landmark Beacon Isle Hotel. The next section of coastline had presented the most worry during the flight planning, for the densely wooded Tsitsikamma Forest offers little in the way of landing options in the event of an emergency. Accordingly we kept a keen eye out for clearings and suitable landing options as the rolling forests, towering yellowwood trees and the Bloukrans and Storms River gorges passed below us. However, the trusty Rotax 914’s never missed a beat and we continued on our way though the sea breezes towards Cape St Francis, overtaking a fleet chokka fishing boats cutting a foamy wake in the blue sea alongside us. At J-Bay we looked down and marveled as surfers shared the waves with frolicking dolphins. Altering course to Pogress Aerodrome near Port Elizabeth we were welcomed by the Progress Flying Instructors and their students who seemed quite intrigued by the gaggle of whirlybirds which had dropped in at their airfield.
As the sun’s shadows grew in length, we decided to put down for the night at Port Alfred. A radio reception “dead spot†and dazzle from the setting sun created some confusion as to the runway layouts and ATC instructions, resulting in a less than elegant, if not altogether embarrassing, approach and put down at 43 Air School. Credit to the guys manning the tower who took it all in their stride as 3 gyros flew left base instead of right, and one landed on the taxiway! Not the most glorious of impressions to make at a flight training school, however our humble apologies were accepted and we were warmly welcomed at what is no doubt SA’s premiere flight training facility.
Our departure, more polite than our arrival, went smoothly and we lifted off from FAPA in neat formation and turned our noses towards East London and the Kei River Mouth (FAKE) where we put down on the rather bumpy grass and mole-heaped runway for a fuel top-up. Finally, we had arrived at the Wild Coast! Cattle on the beaches, rolling green hills dotted with thatched rondawels and groups of women collecting mussels along the rocky shorelines, waving a friendly welcome to the gyros flying overhead. It seemed little had changed since I had last holidayed here as a child, recognizing the resorts so familiar to generations of South African families – Trennery’s, Seagulls, Wavecrest and Mazeppa Bay. . Kob Inn looked far more splendid than I remembered it as a child, with a guest’s R44 parked on the lush lawn next to a sparkling swimming pool. Enjoying the uninterrupted views from my open cockpit we continued “low and slow†along unfrequented beaches nestled between estuaries, tidal lagoons and the coastal forests of the Dwesa Reserve. Ahead of us the red-domed lattice-tower lighthouse stood guard over The Haven, the staging point for the dramatic helicopter rescue of all 571 passengers and crew on board the doomed MTS Oceanos, which sank 5km offshore from the hotel in 1991.
Changing formation to line-astern, we crossed the impressive Mbashe River, swelled by recent rains and disgorging its muddied waters in a brown swathe into the azure blue sea. Inspecting The Haven runway from the air it quickly became apparent that despite the hotels assurances of the runways’ good condition beforehand, it was sorely in need of some dire maintenance by means of a bulldozer! With a rather alarming side-slope and numerous bumps and dongas there was little more than 100m of rough, barely-usable runway. However, one of the benefits of a gyro is that it can literally “land on a tickey†and no more so was this required than at The Haven! Heaving a sigh of relief for the uneventful landing and clutching the rocking cyclic with both hands and stomping on the rudder to keep straight I bounced rather than taxied my way over the steeply sloping and bumpy field towards the hotel. It may be called The Haven but I quickly re-christened its’ runway “The Hellâ€! We’d inadvertently chosen the roughest runway on the Wild Coast to operate out of for the next three days! A few hours later Manfred and Patrick arrived in the Isuzu trooper, looking very travel- weary. By all accounts the road conditions matched those of the runway and we all retired to the bar and promptly grounded ourselves with a much-needed drink!
The runway at Port St Johns is something of a legend in aviation circles. Perched on top of a headland over-looking the Umzimvubu River, the runway ends just metres away from a cliff-edge precipice falling headlong down to the river gorge below! We were all excited at the prospect of landing there, and after executing some seriously short-field take-offs from “The Hell†we enjoyed a very scenic flight along the coast to Hole-in-the-wall, where we circled the namesake rock formation before continuing along the cliff-topped shoreline and sandy beaches to Port St Johns. Undeterred by the Dakota stranded on the runway with a flat tyre, we touched down to find ourselves in the middle of a Ugandan Rebel army supply base. Dutch film- crews were putting the finishing touches to their “arms depot†movie set, whilst waiting for another plane to arrive from JHB with a spare wheel for the DC-3.
Taking off from FAPJ was a breathtaking thrill! Wheels-up and out over the abyss, the gyros swooped one after another, down into the gorge towards the river mouth. What an exhilarating experience and certainly one of the flying highlights of the trip!
Relieved to see the last of The Haven’s bumpy runway, our return leg saw us heading inland to Bisho for a refueling stop, and then onwards to the luxurious Hitgeheim Lodge near Addo Elephant Park. We’d decided to treat ourselves to a rather opulent overnight stay, sipping sundowners on the deck before sitting down for a mouth-watering four-course meal and a fine bottle or two from Archie’s impressive wine-cellar. A perfect finale to a long day’s flying!
The next day’s leg to Assegaay Bosch Lodge offered some good stretches of game viewing, the radios buzzing with chatter as buffalo, kudu, elephants and even rhino were spotted from the air. After a brief refueling stop at Willowmore, Len reported that his fuel-cap had popped open. Landing close to a farm-house to attend to it, he unluckily suffered a puncture in the process. Jonathan, Paul and I circled in behind him and we set-about repairing tyre with the help of the (somewhat surprised) farmer. However, true to the spirit of platteland hospitality, with the repairs done, we were treated to freshly-brewed coffee and his wife’s home-made cake, before waving our goodbyes.
Hidden between koppies, Assegaay Bosch has the potential to be a great fly-in destination. Comfortably appointed thatch-roofed cottages, an enormous enclosed lapa, replete with a herd of springbuck grazing on the lawn, the lodge also boasts an impressive 1500m runway a few minutes drive away.
After a hearty breakfast, we were airborne once again, flying through the valleys and over the rustic towns of Montagu and Barrydale which lay nestled amongst Autumn-leafed orchards and vineyards below. We slipped between the mountains at Ashton and touched down at Robertson (FARS) where Manfred and Patrick, our stalwart ground-crew, arrived with some welcome lunch. Our last fuel- stop completed, the gyros regrouped in formation to follow the meandering Breede River. At Worcester (FAWC) we happily obliged a friendly radio request from the local glider crowd for a fly-past at their airfield before resuming our course for the historic town of Tulbach. A windy climb over the final mountain-pass, and with a journey of more than 2,500km’s behind us, Fisantekraal and home finally came into view.
All in all, great flying, great company and great gyros! And in case you’re wondering… “196†was the collective age of the pilots. Seemed as good a name as any for our gaggle of gyros and I think “Gyro Squadron 196†just might be in line for some more flying adventures in the not too distant future!