This was to be my first overseas trip of the year and I was pessimistic of my chances in the week leading up to it, as the weather was terrible – showers, angry clouds and strong winds – welcome to the UK in July (so much so that the huge RIAT airshow due on the same weekend at RAF Fairford was cancelled for the first time in 38 years due to waterlogging of the grass areas)!
But as the week wore on, the forecast for Saturday look probably do-able with a bit of shower dodging and Sunday looked pretty good, so it was yet again a case of ‘stick your head out of the window in the morning’. On the assumption that it was a ‘go’, I visited the airfield late Friday afternoon and filed the GAR and Flight Plan and generally prepped the plane with all the gear I needed, packing it as far as I was able to achieve a sensible weight and balance.
Saturday dawned with a light wind and a broken overcast, possibly the odd shower later, but small and isolated. The 214 / 215’s agreed and promised better weather for Sunday (good, because I can’t afford to get stranded). So I decided to ‘go’. I picked Mark up next door at 08:00 and off we went. My preparations the night before paid off in time saved, so I could brief Mark properly on the liferaft, ELT, seat belt cutters and what he should do in the event of a ditching.
The plane was virtually out of fuel, so over to the pumps for a ‘full to the brim and then some’ refuel. While I was sure I could get fuel at Caen, I wanted to make sure I had enough for the round trip if for some reason they couldn’t oblige.
That complete, we mounted up and took off at about 09:15. Although the RIAT airshow was cancelled, the restricted airspace for the event stayed in place, so my routing was not the usual ‘straight line to GWC’, instead I used:
EGBJ DCT BATH DCT PORTLAND DCT ORTAC DCT CHERBORG DCT CARENTAN DCT OUESTERHAM DCT LFRK
Basically, almost due south, coasting out at Portland, then SSE to the Cherbourg peninsula, down along the east coast past Utah beach, then east along the other beaches, Omaha, Gold, Juno and Sword, onto Pegasus Bridge over the canal and into Caen Carpiquet.
Due to the cloud base, I could manage 3000’ – adequate, but I would of course like higher, especially over water. I called Bristol Radar, as although I was going to pass below their controlled airspace, I would come close, so better that I am talking to them. As it turned out, he was the most helpful guy I have ever come across, volunteering to get me Caen weather (yes please). So I pushed my luck and asked if he could also get the status of D021 and D023 (two military danger areas I hoped were ‘cold’ so I could fly through them – they usually are at the weekend). He dutifully obliged – he must have been REALLY bored!
As is not uncommon, the cloud thinned and lifted over the channel as we coasted out and I climbed to 3400’ – I had to stay below 3500’ as there was a low-level airway heading to Jersey I needed to fly under. I was now talking to London Information. Some way out into the channel, they advised me to change frequency to Jersey Radar. I was not planning to cross their zone, but I would be touching ORTAC (at the corner of their zone), so I was surprised by this request and wondered if somehow I had blundered into their zone. A triple check with GPS and VOR radials revealed I hadn’t. I needn’t have worried, they gave me an immediate squawk and FIS until I was at ORTAC, then a freecall to Deauville Approach.
Deauville were fine as usual. We were now approaching Barfleur to the east of Cherbourg. As I coasted in, I requested a descent to 1000’. Deauville seemed surprised at this and asked me to repeat. I was worried that they might say ‘no’ for some reason, but they were fine and down we went to 1000’ for the rest of the trip, hugging the coast so Mark could get some good photo’s of the beaches and points of interest. Easy for me too, my alternate in the event of engine failure were miles and miles of sandy beaches!
The run down the beaches at 1000’ was great fun and gave some rewarding views. I spotted the American Military Cemetery at Omaha beach (popularised by ‘Saving Private Ryan’) so I did an orbit at 1000’ with the power pulled back somewhat to reduce noise while Mark snapped away on the camera.
Onwards we went to the still visible remnants of the Mulberry Harbour at Arromanches. Then onto the target for the weekend, the Canadian ‘Juno’ beaches at Courseulles-sur-Mer.
We easily picked out the visitors centre and orbited that. The on to the eastern beach, Sword around Ouistreham and then up the river and canal toward Caen and the famous Pegasus bridge.
We spotted this easily, but I didn’t remember until later that a few years ago, the actual bridge was removed and replaced by a bigger, but very similar looking bridge. As I was about to start my first 1000’ orbit, Deauville warned my of another aircraft coming in from behind and descending, either planning to do the same thing or possibly on his way into Caen airport, he advised me to head east for a few minutes, I was happy to oblige! After about two minutes, he advised that I was clear of the traffic and could resume. So back we went and clicked away merrily at the wrong bridge! As it turned out, the location of the old bridge was at a visitors centre about 100m away, so many of the photos Mark took got both bridges in it anyway, together with a full size replica of a Horsa glider!
Orbit complete, I called up Caen and got approach instructions. I was given a right base join for 31. As I called right base, I was then immediately made number three to two aircraft on long final. I quickly spotted one and then spotted the other, which looked like a biplane painted dark grey and hardly standing out from the overcast! I tucked in behind him and called final.
On final, the controller offered me 31 ‘hard’ or ‘grass’. I hadn’t even realised they had a grass strip, but no thanks anyway. They were giving the wind as 260/10, but the windsock didn’t seem to agree, so I judged my approach and there seemed to be very little crosswind. As we approached to short final, I spotted the biplane again, but this time trundling slowly along the runway, having presumably touched down ‘on the numbers’, with the first exit three-quarters along the runway – thanks pal! I had already been cleared to land so I assumed the controller was giving me a ‘land-after’. Then on very short final, the controller piped up and in very broken English with a lot of ‘aaahhhs and errrrs’ eventually gave me a ‘you tack ouf agin and chreye agin pliiz’. The moment she piped up, I knew it was a go-around, so powered up and was well into the go around before she found the right words!
Around we went for a left hand circuit and came in again, this time number one and a clean runway (always a bonus). I didn’t think there was any traffic behind me, but just in case, I stayed high and aimed to touch down well past the piano keys to minimise the taxi trundle. This I did with a good landing. I was directed to the grass parking area which while not billiard table smooth, wasn’t too bad. I parked next to the biplane which turned out to be painted a dark olive green and in German WW1 markings. I shut down, unpacked and set the plane up for overnight parking (stick secured to the rear with seat belts etc. I didn’t bother with chocks as it would take a hurricane to move it in the grass.
Last time I was here (three years ago now) we left via the tower, but I went and checked all the doors in the main terminal building first. The third door from the right was signed as ‘aircrew’ and was open, so in we went. We had arrived at the right place and a very pleasant lady with very little English helped us.
With my very poor French (and Mark’s excellent understanding of French but his apparent refusal to actually speak a word), we got by. Yes, there would be fuel tomorrow and yes, we could pay all the fees tomorrow. Douanes? A gallic shrug and a smile – we had correctly notified them with advance notice and full details the day before as it said on the French AIP and Caen plates. This is not at all unusual, I have rarely actually seen customs at a French airfield. She was kind enough to call for a taxi to take us to the SNCF station in Caen, as that was the best place to hire a car.
Waiting for the taxi, Mark and I visited a small monument by the tower to the Canadian regiments that finally took the strategic airfield in early July 1944 in hand to hand fighting.
Well, of course by the time we got to the station, all of the four car hire places were shut for lunch (this is continental Europe remember). The earliest to re-open was at 13:30 – well it was 13:00 now so a beer and a juice at the local bar was in order – the bill for this reckless extravagance? – a mere EUR 11 – AAARRRGGGHHH KEEEYYRRIIIIISSSTT! This is gonna hurt!
The rest of the trip went better in comparison. On the Saturday we went to Benys-sur-Mer and the Canadian cemetery then onto Courseulles and the Canadian visitors centre.
The visitors centre was fine except for some ‘political correctness’ nonsense with one entire substantial room devoted to why Canadians like Canada (no kidding!) and how bad we were to the Inuit (and this has what to do with WW2???).
We drove in the direction of Ouistreham to get to Pegasus bridge before it closed, but spotted some more Canadian monuments along the way, so stopped at them. We came to the famous house on the coast that the clip of the landings always show, of a Canadian soldier running off a landing craft with a distinctive French house on the shore. This was the first house liberated by the beach landings and sported a decent sized Canadian flag.
We managed to get to Pegasus Bridge with 45 minutes until it closed, so we whizzed around and then realised that the original bridge had been moved to this site (complete with bullet marks) – ooops! We both hoped that Mark had managed to capture this bridge in his aerial photos as well (he did, but of course more by accident that design).
We stayed at the Ibis in the centre of Caen. The Accor Hotel group (Mercure, Ibis etc.) are a pilot’s best friend because they allow for cancellation on the day of arrival! To be fair so do the Campinile and B&B groups.
We got ripped off with a below par evening meal in a very nice restaurant in the ancient quarter of Caen. It was full of stuff heads of deer and other game and incongruously a huge Moose! A mere EUR 130 for the two of us, for a so-called fillet steak (about 1cm thick) from a cow that had clearly died from malnutrition!
The next day, we headed to Omaha beach and the American Cemetery. The American do things differently – they have a few HUGE cemeteries whereas the Commonwealth have a lot of smaller ones. I have to say it is very impressive and now has an excellent and remarkably ‘balanced’ visitors centre and display (i.e. it actually acknowledges the contribution made by nations other than the US). Of course this was popularised very movingly in the film ‘Saving Private Ryan’ (based on a true story of the Niland family, but only loosely) with the emotional opening and closing scenes taking place here. You have to visit to understand it. On the northern edge of the cemetery is a path and a low wall which is on the top of the low ridge that overlook Omaha beach and is precisely where many of the German defenders were sited. A visit here is a very moving experience and it is very hard now to watch the opening 15 minutes of the film without tears coming to your eyes.
We dropped the car back and noted that everything was shut on Sunday (unlike Le Touquet where quite a lot was open). We just managed to refuel, but crapped-out on the wine front.
Back to the airport where we had to find some way of getting back airside. A disembodied voice on the ‘buzzer-phone’ on the door mentioned something about the Air France desk. So we waited there for a bit and when no one came, spotted a guy reading a paper by the security machines at departures, he motioned asked for our passports and my licence and beckoned us through. We went through the now time-honoured charade of stripping almost bare (OK, emptying my pockets and taking my belt off) to walk through machines that were turned off anyway.
We went to the office and paid the exorbitant EUR 8.50 fee (bargain of the trip). We refuelled, filed the flight plan and were away by 15:00 local (14:00 UK time).
The weather was overcast and showery south of the airfield, but looked sunny with widely scattered clouds north of the airfield over the water. I didn’t mess about with low level runs and climbed to 3500’ to stay below the very occasional cumulus as we back-tracked the same route back to the UK.
The weather was great, but I still had to stay below 3500’ to clear that bloody low level airway into Jersey. On the way back, I decided to show Mark the Cerne Abbas Giant with his large appendage, keeping a careful eye out for aircraft at this ‘honeypot’.
The return trip was uneventful, except for a glider passing a couple of hundred feet to our left and below (but still too close for comfort). I did spot him, albeit late, but early enough to take avoiding action (which wasn’t needed), so I waggled wings instead.
Bristol Radar were very busy and I barely managed to get a QSY in well north of their airspace. That and getting the Gloucester ATIS and the initial call to Gloucester distracted me so that when I looked around I spotted that I was barely a mile east of Nympsfield at 2400’ while glider winch launch was in operation. Oh crap – what an idiot! I felt really bad and hoped they didn’t have to suspend launch activity. I made a mental note (and did) to call and email them later with an apology.
Gloucester were fine as usual and I got a standard overhead join for 27 with right hand circuits. Then at 4 miles they changed it to 22 with right hand circuits. No bother. Around we went, taking care to be precisely over the upwind numbers at 1000’ as a Sligsby took off below us so we passed overhead while he was climbing out – Mark and I kept a very careful watch out for him as he passed underneath. The approach was good as was the landing. Down at just before 16:00 local.
We taxied in and shut down, we unpacked and I asked Mark to use the car shampoo to wash down all the leading areas of the plane and the front of the prop for fly-splats. Of course, he thought the front of the prop was the front (i.e. grey side) so missed the real front (i.e. the back) - so I had to give the real front a decent clean – clear – errr perhaps not!
This was a very good trip and blew my ‘touring cobwebs’ away. The usual very ‘relaxed’ French ATC (I wonder if the hysterical, shrill and barely competent lady controller at Le Touquet has relocated to Caen now?) – having said that, Deauville were great.
A good trip and I look forward to taking to wife on a long promised trip to Deauville . Honfleur in two weeks time – as usual, pray for the weather!
