By Isle of Wight Observer
Unusually for a Bank Holiday, last Monday was a beautiful day. Four people woke up, drew back the curtains, and saw clear blue sky; it must’ve seemed the perfect day to go flying. None could have foreseen what was about to happen. I had a friend working those flights at Sandown last weekend; unsurprisingly, he’s devastated.
With more than a casual interest in aviation, I always look up when I hear aircraft – any aircraft; it’s a reflex action. In the west of the Island, on bluebird days, we’re blessed with Spitfires. They often loop around the Needles and fly back again; occasionally, there’s some wiggling or other manoeuvre to witness. I must’ve seen hundreds of Spits; in reality, probably the same one or two aircraft on repeat. I love the sound of a Merlin engine; that novelty will never wear off.
For a few thousand pounds, anyone can book a flight experience and sit in the back of a two-seater. Someone in Ryde recently told me that her recent Spitfire flight was the highlight of her life, and the pilot even let her take the controls. If I knew my time was almost up, that flight experience would be on my bucket list, regardless of the expense.
In 2003, when I heard Concorde was finishing, I booked two seats. My late Dad and I were both huge Concorde fans. I didn’t really have the money to spare, so it went on my credit card. It seemed reckless – who spends £6,000 on a four-hour flight to New York? It’s a huge sum of money, especially when you have a young family. No doubt there were many things we needed more. But, and it’s a big but – my Dad and I created a treasured memory.
I recall every bit of our experience in forensic detail, as did he. We flew on the July 4, and from the moment we arrived at check-in, it felt truly special. G-BOAD was ‘our’ aircraft; it’s now on display at the Intrepid Museum in Manhattan. I’ve stood underneath it and marvelled at its shape and detail.
Concorde is arguably the most beautiful and complex bit of engineering ever made by human hands. That they managed to build it in the ’60s adds to the legend. What does it say about our country that we haven’t quite managed to do anything quite like that since? For us oldies, it seems clear evidence that we’ve gone backwards.
Our short supersonic flight was every bit as incredible as we hoped. The food and service were like nothing else. As we boarded, we tried not to think of the recent Paris crash. We departed London as the sun set. It appeared to rise and go back down again as we landed at JFK.
I remember the sensation of heavy braking when the pilot operated the thrust reversers. For those few hours, we, the 100 souls on board, were among the highest humans on planet Earth. Sixty thousand feet is a very long way up; only astronauts and spy plane pilots get to go higher these days.
Life is full of risk, and flying is a joy, even when it takes us out of our comfort zone. Most people wonder what it’s like to fly in a helicopter. I’ve done so many times, in all parts of the world, including the Island.
We took a float plane once – from Key West to the Dry Tortugas. Once there, we were closer to Cuba than America. My kids and I still remember the privilege of flying low over the sea and spotting turtles and sharks cruising along. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Whatever went wrong last Monday, the professional investigators will surely find out. Our thoughts and prayers are with all those affected.