Power to the people
1966 NANCHANG CJ6A
‘IF ANYONE fancies a ride, I have a spare seat next weekend,’ emailed Bob Davy. Luckily for me, I was free, willing and very inexperienced in vintage Chinese aircraft – because Bob was offering a ride in his mid-60s 300bhp Nanchang CJ6A, once used by the People’s Liberation Army air force for training and border patrols.
This kind offer came about after Bob’s feature on flying a P51 Mustang in last month’s
Early on Sunday morning, I said goodbye to my family – hopefully, not for the last time – and headed over to White Waltham airfield, near Maidenhead in Berkshire. Over a can of Coca-Cola, which is supposed to stop you feeing sick mid-air, Bob and technician Mark gave me a briefing and tried to ease my nerves a little. Then, before I knew it, we were strapped in and ready to go.
Mark turned the propellers by hand as Bob explained that this was to release the oil that drains down into the radial engine’s cylinders while it’s not running. Apparently, not doing this before start-up means bad things will happen – honestly, I was listening, but mostly I was thinking about the parachute and window release! Bob then ran the engine up to speed and altered the pitch of the propeller blades so they could ‘bite’ more, brought it back down to idle to check it wouldn’t stall, and we were good to go.
Once airborne, Bob asked me if the experience was what I had expected. It wasn’t the bone-shaking, wind-howling, nail-biting ride I half-thought it would be; if anything, it felt refined, natural and almost effortless. Maybe my years on
Octane, being in and around cars of a similar age, had acclimatised me. Old technology, worn-out paint, analogue dials – they were all fascinating and familiar.
The Coke did its job, but being sick wasn’t my concern
any more: staying conscious was. The plane climbed rapidly, but not as fast as the blood drained from my brain; as the horizon fell away, I was forced down into my seat, until normality was restored a few seconds later. Wow! You can’t do that in a car. We continued with a few more manoeuvres, each more enjoyable once I knew I could handle them.
Just as I’d got comfortable, the controls were handed to me, right hand on the stick, left on the throttle. I am flying! Well, I say flying – I was trying not to move anything, because the plane seemed happy and I wasn’t going to argue with that. Bob signalled with his right hand and I copied moving the stick to the right and then back again; all very intuitive, with little resistance. However, unlike in a car, the potential consequences seemed a little less forgiving so I was happy to relinquish control to Bob.
Looking towards Reading, we could see the rain rolling in and it was time to head back to base. I’d had an amazing time and it occurred to me that the sensations of freedom and speed must be similar to what the pioneers of motoring enjoyed before traffic congestion and speed limits. As passenger rides go, this was the best.