Since returning to gliding after a 30 year break, I have been determined to gain my diamond badge. Although I completed a 300 km triangle in an Arrow for my Gold Badge in 1966, only two "legs" could be claimed from any one flight then, so I had to start again from scratch.
I was fortunate to be able to purchase DG-400 (HDE) from Ken Parker in September 1999. I managed to knock off the diamond distance and goal legs during GGC’s annual camp at Nyah in early January 2000. Diamond height was always going to be the hardest one to get, and I wanted to get it at "home" (I had a taste of wave flying when I took a Schweitzer 1-26 to 20,000 feet at Pikes Peak in Colorado in 1966, but the gain was only about 8,000 feet).
I attended five "wave camps" at the Grampians over the past year, at the Noelhurst and Colefield private strips which were arranged by the Grampians Soaring Club (GSC) and the GCV/Wimmera Soaring Club, respectively). This gave me a good opportunity to gain some local knowledge and make some very enjoyable winter flights, mainly involving ridge soaring in the spectacular terrain. The only decent wave during these particular camps was at Noelhurst on Monday 14 June last year, when a number of flights of over 10,000 feet were achieved and Bill Johnston was forced to abandon his climb in the DG-300 at 16,500 feet due to canopy and airframe icing (of course, this was the day I had to be back in the office!).
I decided that I needed to take some steps to improve the odds of gaining diamond height. As I am fortunate to have a self-launcher and reasonably flexible working arrangements, the most important issues were to work out when the wave is likely to be on and organise a base to operate from at short notice (plus a local official observer).
I went through over 10 years of synoptic charts at the Bureau of Meteorology to get a feel for the occurrence of periods of strong SW to W winds which are associated with most wave episodes in the Grampians. It soon became apparent that such conditions generally last for little more than a day, and episodes extending over two or more days (when a number of diamond gains have been achieved in the Grampians in the past) are relatively rare. I figured that the best location to operate from was the GSC’s base at Ararat, as they are a very friendly bunch (including a number of Official Observers) and a number of pilots with experience in the wave. Despite being about 35 km downwind from Mt William (3,830’) during wave conditions, a number of good wave flights have been achieved by working upwind from Ararat (some from winch launches directly into the wave). I took HDE to Ararat for a weekend in early August to check out the "system" and make an exploratory flight out to Mt William (in a 40 kt NNW wind with no wave). GSC very kindly made a space available for HDE in the hangar for a few weeks while the Libelle was undergoing its Form 2. This meant that I wouldn’t have to put my faith in my (as yet unproven) one-person rigging contraption.
The 4-day MSL pressure prognosis issued on 5 August suggested that 9 August was a strong possibility. After checking the AVFAX MSL prognosis for 10:00 EST on 9 August on the previous day, I decided to give it a go. Bill Johnston and Wayne Mackley had expressed interest in joining me on such expeditions, but neither could go on this occasion (Bill had taken a bargain Impulse flight to Sydney, while Wayne was rotary-hoeing his backyard).
As I drove down to Ararat early on 9 August, the news reports described a series of violent thunder storms which had created a bit of excitement on the previous evening, including ripping the roof from a stadium in Sunbury and dumping hail over wide areas – at least this wasn’t shaping up to be a quiet day!
I arrived in Ararat at 08:15. There were no obvious signs of wave and Brian Wood (GSC tugmaster) was not too hopeful, but I felt that there had to be wave, although did not really expect it to be diamond grade. However, I am a great believer that if you don’t try you won’t succeed, and prepared for takeoff.
I launched just before 1000 hrs (Ararat AD elevation is 1,050’). By this time cloud cover had increased to about 6/8 with bases at about 3,500’ and there was still no obvious sign of wave. I climbed up through a hole to about 7,000’, which placed me 1,500 above the cloud, about 12 km west of the AD. I soon found some 3 kt wave lift, just upwind of a ragged line of CUs aligned SSW-NNE. I opened the brakes and staying in the lift zone, descended to 5,000’ which was at about the bottom of my comfort zone under these conditions. I climbed along this line of lift towards Great Western, until I was at 11,000’. From this height I could see three lines of wave ahead, around 10 km apart, marked by the rounded tops of the CUs at about 6,000’. I did not see any lenticular clouds at any stage during the flight.
I pressed on upwind, reaching the next line of lift at 8,000’, and climbed to 12,500’ at up to 3 kt before moving forward to the primary wave, which I contacted at about 8,500’ around 10 km downwind from the Mt William Range (almost directly above the Noelhurst strip). It had taken me 2 hours to get to this point, as I didn’t want to risk sinking into cloud before reaching the next line of lift.
As I climbed through Level 150 in steady 5 kt lift, I requested airways clearance to Level 250, and this was granted by the time I reached Level 175. The rate of climb soon started to fall and was below 1 kt by Level 185. The best looking cloud was upwind from Mt William (presumably generated by the Victoria Range) so I headed for it but turned back after about 10 km because of the height I was losing bashing into the 50 kt wind (from about 260 degrees). This excursion cost me 5,000’ and I felt a bit embarrassed when making my next half-hourly position report: Melbourne Centre, Hotel Delta Echo is 5 miles east Mt William, climbing through Level 135’, at which point I was asked if I wished to maintain the clearance, to which I replied: affirmative.
I struggled for the next two and a half hours to get to the required height (about 21,500’) exploring along the primary wave between Mt William and Lake Fyans, and making another unsuccessful upwind excursion. However, the best height I could manage was 20,500’. It was still a fantastic experience, perfectly clear sky above and almost complete cloud cover below, broken by a "window" about 1 km wide extending from near Mt William to Lake Fyans. The air was so smooth that few control inputs were required once established in the lift. I encountered a few small patches of slight turbulence over 20,000’, which came as a bit of a surprise and suggested that the vertical extent of the wave may have been restricted by wind shear. It was difficult to stay in the best lift by visual reference to the ground and cloud so far below, so I relied primarily on the GPS and vario, usually heading upwind if in doubt. The band of lift was over 1 km wide at the top, but the strongest lift was more localised, and seemed to move around.
I did not feel cold at any stage of the flight, having dressed in cold weather bushwalking gear (poly-propylene underwear, inner socks and gloves) plus a couple of layers of "Polartech" clothing, a Polartech "helmet" with ear flaps, gloves and fleece-lined boots (this garb probably looked a bit strange, didn’t come close to Bill Johnston’s Russian fur hat, which keeps his ears warm but makes him look like a cocker spaniel). The large DG canopy provides for excellent solar heating (including the feet). My 1.5 L water bottle froze solid and the lower port side of the canopy (away from the sun) iced up, but I was able to keep the rest of the canopy clear by increasing the ventilation rate whenever ice crystals started to form below the yaw string. I had no problems with airframe icing or stiff controls, and checked the air brakes every now and again.
I used a Mountain High electronic demand system (EDS) with nasal canula, set to cut in at 10,000’. This worked very well and gives a reassuring "Pft" every time one inhales. I used only 160 L of oxygen, despite being above 15,000’ for almost 4 hours. I had two backup systems in case the EDS failed: (1) a spare (warm) battery in my pocket with a lead which could be quickly plugged into the EDS unit; and (2) an emergency mask with 1 L/min capillary which by-passes the EDS.
By 15:30 hrs I was about to give it away, having used 70 per cent of my oxygen, but decided to make one last effort when I realised that that the wind speed had increased to about 60 kt. I managed a climb at about 1.5 kt from 20,000 to 21,000, followed by a painfully slow struggle to reach 21,800’ at 16:15 hrs (mainly using will power in the final stages!). At this point I was about 2 km due south of Noelhurst. I then opened the brakes, lowered the wheel and at 16:20 hours advised Melbourne Centre that I was descending through Level 200, departing the Mt William zone and tracking to Ararat, and thanked them for their patience.
It was not until I was spiralling down from 18,000’ towards a hole in the cloud over the town, that I was able to relax a bit and start to savour the experience – similar to the feeling of relief and exhilaration I felt as I commenced final glide for my first 500 km flight. When I landed, after almost 6 hours and 52 minutes in the air, I had one cold-soaked DG-400 with frost growing over many metal fittings such as wing pins.
I learned a few things from this experience, including the following: