After a not-so-early photocall with the Red Arrows in the morning, Claire and I set down for some meticulous planning of the next leg of the route. Although our planning has been rather subject to change up to this point, we wanted to know every detail of the next leg as it was routing far too close to Class A airspace for us to be willing to wander too far off track or altitude, and we wanted to be absolutely clear as to who we were going to be speaking to at all times.
White Waltham is next on the list, and the airfield we had earmarked as just a little bit scary for sitting right on the edge of the Heathrow zone, which we absolutely did not want to infringe. Depending on the route we chose, we also had ample opportunities to bust Luton’s and Stansted’s zone and we would quite like to complete another day, and in fact the entirety of Evie’s Grand Tour, with our licences intact.
So with a not-quite-on-time departure, we left Norwich, heading initially back northwest to Kings Lynn before turning south for White Waltham. Being handed over from Marham Radar to Mildenhall Radar threw Claire into bizarre fits of ecstasy, for Mildenhall is an American base and so we had the opportunity for what felt like a quick trip over to America, without the expense and effort. Our foray with the Americans complete, our service was transferred to Farnborough North, and we were immediately thrown into what has to be the busiest radio I have ever encountered. When we track further south we definitely notice busier airspace than in the bleak and abandoned North, but this was on an entirely new scale. It took me in the region of six attempts to put in my initial call, for there was not a second’s breathing space on the radio. Upmost respect for the controller sorting out all of that.
Thankful to be tracked on radar at this time, we nevertheless had our eyes on stalks and did manage to spot and avoid an assortment of aeroplanes, gliders and helicopters. Listening on the radio gave us a fair idea that White Waltham was going to be a busy place today, just another aspect to add to the list of things to think about when approaching the airfield.
We had spoken to one of the instructors at White Waltham before leaving Norwich about the best joining procedure – in essence low, tight and slow – so once we had spotted what we assumed was a big enough field for a few runways, and what looked like a couple of hangars, we began the descent for an overhead join at 1300ft and subsequent circuit at 800ft. Despite being lower than usual, the circuit was so tight, that I still felt that I was too high on final, so dropped all flaps that I could, throttled back and essentially glided onto the runway. It seemed to do the trick as it meant we were nice and slow on touchdown, which is ideal for a bit of a bumpy grass strip.
Not entirely sure where we were supposed to taxi next, we picked up the tracks of another aircraft in the grass, and followed them, taking us towards the hangars and rows and rows of aircraft. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen this number of aircraft at a small airfield before, and certainly not such a variety of specimens – Super Cubs, a Tiger Moth and a Slinsby Firefly for starters. We picked our parking spot, noticed lunch was on the go, so shut down quickly, breathed an enormous sigh of relief that we got here, and walked directly towards, what felt like a very well deserved lunch.
Keeping with the theme of Evie’s Grand Tour so far, we had actually arrived at White Waltham a day late, and so had missed our meet-and-greet with the British Women Pilots’ Association (BWPA). Nevertheless, it was an extremely enjoyable stop in, though unfortunately one that we had to cut a little short for the necessity of making it onto our next stop. It would have been fantastic to spend a bit more time in such a beautiful and historic airfield. It was the base of Air Traffic Auxiliary (ATA) during World War II and evidence of the history was apparent, through aircraft, WWII hangars, and photographs.
Soaking up the first of the sunshine we had encountered for a long time, we quickly put a route together for an approach into Compton Abbas, realised that we were going to be late for there too, and eventually got going.
Taxiing out was a bit of a free-for-all, and with several aircraft still in the circuit, we eventually chose our moment, lined up on the runway and departed. Though we had been receiving a radar service from Farnborough North we were suddenly told to choose our next en route frequency and bid farewell. It would appear that we had reached five o’clock and home time for the radar controllers, so we were suddenly launched from what was most definitely the busiest radio we had experienced to complete silence. With a vigilant lookout for other traffic we proceeded towards Compton Abbas.
Compton’s airfield sits slightly on a ledge, lined to the south with a row of trees. Although we were half an hour late and therefore arriving out of hours, there was still very helpfully somebody welcoming us on frequency and giving us the airfield information. We made our approach, with a slightly odd perspective due to the undulating ground, landed safely and parked.
With a hard day of flying behind us, in the type of heat that the southwest of England seems to steal from Scotland, Claire was all for collapsing on the grass next to the aeroplane, but thought she better pick herself up and look presentable for the group of people making their way towards us across the airfield. It turned out to be Lorraine’s partner and friends, Lorraine being the niece of Evie Saunders, whose aircraft we are flying. We weren’t expecting to meet the family until Bournemouth tomorrow, so it was a wonderful surprise to receive a welcome for those involved in setting up Evie’s legacy. Tomorrow bears the promise of being able to spend a bit more time with them, but for now it was wrapping up the aeroplane for the night, leaving in it all the things that we needed with us, and bringing out all the things that we really didn’t require for an overnight stop. I’m sure the aircraft has benefited hugely from our toothbrushes...
