Below is the profile of  Robert Bailey. He is currently the secretary for The North London Flyers  

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How I started RC flying; or, lessons learned the hard way.

 

How I started RC flying; or, lessons learned the hard way.

 

I most recently took up model flying in 2000, when I dusted off my Concept SR-T helicopter and took it on holiday to the RC Hotel in Corfu to learn to fly it - but that's another story.

 

I first became interested in model flying when I was about 6 years old, at the same time I became interested in golf. My mum and dad would take us kids to Wanstead Park and I would watch the people playing golf through the fence, then search for balls in the woods. At home I would make golf clubs from garden sticks and try to emulate Tony Jacklin in the back garden, using the balls I found.

 

However, the best was always kept for last - the visit to Wanstead Model Flying Club. I was fascinated by the sight of those small aircraft flying apparently on their own and would dream of the day when I too could take one up. Those early years (in the early seventies) saw many attempts at building free flight models and a kit of some sort was always on my Christmas wish list. However, the opportunity to get involved with the biggest challenge, radio control, never presented itself until I was in my early teens; a friend introduced me to electric RC buggies.

 

We both took a job delivering the local free paper to save up and buy Tamyia Cheetah cars and two-channel 27MHz Acoms radio gear. This was great fun and when I had trashed the Cheetah, I bought a twelfth scale RC King Tiger tank kit, also from Tamyia. Yet, this was still not flying. It was not until my late teens that I found myself with sufficient funds and renewed interest to take up RC flying. I bought a Ripmax trainer with OS .25 and a 5-function radio. The engine was run-in in the back garden (according to the manual), bolted to a workbench with no silencer!

 

Armed only with knowledge gleaned from library books (e.g. David Boddington's RC Primer) and a willing girlfriend as assistant I headed over to Wanstead flats to try my hand. The place was empty (I was a student, it was a weekday). I had no idea that the guys who flew there belonged to a club or that you needed to have a permit to fly there - let alone assistance from someone who knew what they were doing! I started the engine, opened the throttle and (fortunately) the engine cut (needle valve not adjusted). At that point a passer by (who I suspect was a club member) pulled me up. He kindly pointed out that I could not fly there without a permit and that was that.

 

I never was one for joining clubs - fear of commitment or something. (I remember arranging to go to Cub Scouts with my friends as a 7 year old and changing my mind at the last minute. I did start going the next week and loved every minute of it). It never occurred to me to ask the guy about joining the club - I was so discouraged. I think the plane was eventually burned one bonfire night but I still have the engine!

 

Then I turned to RC gliders. We had a caravan on the east coast, at Mersea Island. One year, there was a thermal gliding event held at the YMCA camp, on the coast. This looked good. No engines, no mess or complication – I could fly on the field near the site! I went along to the nearest model shop – at Springfield near Chelmsford. “Where do you fly”? “What club do you belong to”? “We don’t want you interfering with our frequency control”! How did they know where I lived? I had not encountered this resistance before. I retreated from the shop. Mail order was the answer, the only questions were about my credit card details, although they did not know my address and I had to supply that information.

 

It was a lovely glass-fiber thermal or slope glider, with obeche covered foam wings. I built it quickly; I still had my 35MHz transmitter and receiver from the Ripmax trainer. It was taken to the caravan site on the next trip. I tried launching it from the field towards the cliff (a seven feet drop). It glided well, but kept stalling. My girlfriend (helper) at the time recalled that we had seen the flyers at the YMCA camp use bungees. Thoughts of returning to the shop at Springfield deterred that solution. I tried a mighty hand launch. It was airborne, swinging to the left! I grabbed for the receiver, caught my sleeve on the rudder stick and it spun into the ground. The damage was probably repairable, but I realised this was not as simple as I thought it would be. I don’t recall what happened to the glider.

 

A few years later, my sister's boyfriend had spotted someone attempting to fly a helicopter while on his way home from work at Hackney Marshes. His enthusiastic description of the event fired my imagination and my interest was rekindled. I bought Deiter Schluter’s Helicopter guide, I bought magazines and discovered that this was something one largely did alone, learning to hover – no need for clubs or well-meaning interference. I was of course proved ultimately wrong, as you will see. My only obstacle at that time was the huge expense; helicopters were even more expensive (relatively) in the mid 1980’s than they are today.

 

It was not until 1996 that I obtained my first helicopter, a Kyosho Concept SR-T. It was shortly before I changed jobs and I was working in Euston at the time. A friend at work, John was uncharacteristically late leaving work one night. I asked what he was up to and he showed me a magazine advertisement offering a helicopter kit, engine and radio deal at Hobby Stores in Camden Town. He told me of his long held interest and similar desire to fly and I joined him on his trip. The deal included setting up the helicopter. I knew this was one of the keys to success through my earlier study. I lived nearer the Hobby Stores branch at Enfield and went there to buy my kit.

 

Moving on a few weeks; I had spent most evenings building and was now between jobs. I built a long wooden box to transport the helicopter; it looked like a coffin. I had Rick at the store check it out and set it up. He was very helpful and I was pleased when he said I had built it quite well, only a few minor things to sort out.

 

It was a weekday when I took it out to fly. I had joined Enfield club, but found the atmosphere not to my anti-club outlook (remember the Cub Scouts episode). The secretary explained that as I lived near Wanstead, I could go there – my Epping Forest permit covered me I was told. It was a coldish day in February, sunny and blustery (not the best conditions for a first flight). I gingerly opened the throttle and the thing hopped up, I gently lowered the throttle and the thing settled down. Great, I can do this!

 

More throttle and the helicopter hops higher. Then, a gust of wind picks up and the helicopter is moving fast to the left, turning away. I quickly lower the throttle and thing settles into long grass; the engine stalls.

 

I recover the helicopter, shaking. It is intact; great! Undaunted, I try again, less throttle this time. Suddenly the wind picks up and the thing is airborne, moving quickly over my left shoulder. Somehow I turn the nose left and close the throttle. The helicopter noses into the long grass, bending the tail boom.

 

There was a man there. I think he was a member of the club as he had helped me start the engine. I remember him saying – “you really should get some help with that”! I replaced the tail boom next day and quietly packed the helicopter away in its coffin.

 

I’m quite lucky. I discovered that my wife has always held long term ambitions in the aviation direction. We decided to go to Corfu in 2000, to the RC Hotel so she could relax by the pool while I could learn to fly my helicopter; properly, this time. I was going to be taught by a real professional, the Thai National Helicopter Champion. During the holiday, she was bitten by the model flying bug and is also a member of our club.

 

The moral of my story I suppose is either, marry someone sympathetic to your interest or get help form someone experienced if you want to survive the steep, sometimes risky and definitely expensive learning curve that stands before you at the threshold of this hobby. Anyway, they both involve finding someone to support you (like a club for instance). By the way, I also took up golf properly becoming a respectable 15 handicapper and overcoming my club phobia in the process.

 

Author: Rob Bailey, November 2002

 

Rob Bailey is currently Secretary of the North London flyers Model Flying Club and flies slope, fixed wing power, electric and of course, helicopters. This story may not be reproduced, either in part or in whole without his express permission.