Forget-me-Nots
Jon Jayes often had his head in the clouds
IT was over 40 years ago that I saw my first hot-air balloon flying over Nottingham, and within a few months of that first sighting I was also flying in balloons over my home city. It all started for me one day towards the end of 1978, when the general manager of the Nottingham Building Society, John Webster, was looking for members of the public to form a hot-air balloon club, and to train as crew and pilots to fly a large balloon advertising the building society.
I went along to the inaugural meeting and discovered that there was much more to it than just drifting about the skies, but that first meeting whetted my appetite to fly. After the meeting, those of us who still had ambitions to get into the air went along to Wollaton Park in Nottingham, where we participated in a demonstration of how to unpack and inflate a balloon.
That was it for me. I signed up to join the club and thus began several years of tiring and often frustrating hard work, which however was also thrilling and very rewarding.
Ballooning antecedents stretch back to the first recorded manned hot-air balloon flight in France in 1783, in a device built of paper by the Montgolfier brothers. Military applications were immediately suggested, but over the years the use of hot-air balloons in this field were abandoned, although gas balloons were used in future conflicts as observation posts and as barrage balloons in World War II.
Hot-air balloons developed over the years into the leisure and sporting models which we have today, and which are flown, in various forms, all over the world by enthusiasts.
In the weeks after that first meeting of the balloon club in Nottingham, I went along to several locations and “crewed” in the hope of getting a flight, all of which was dependent on the weather and if I could fit ballooning in with work.
Calls came – often at very short notice – to be at a location somewhere in the county for very early morning flights. Balloons fly at their best – and safest – in the morning and evening, as during the midday hours adverse thermals can develop in the atmosphere which could be dangerous to hot-air balloon flight.
To fly a hot-air balloon the weather has to be good, obviously, with no strong winds, otherwise inflation is difficult and take-off and landings can be perilous, to say nothing of the distance one might travel at speed, causing the recovery crew considerable problems in keeping up.
The balloon we flew was a huge 77,500 cubic feet model standing some 60 feet tall and made by Cameron Balloons. There was a wicker basket which held four gas cylinders, one in each corner, and four adults could be accommodated, but on many flights that I was involved in only two or three of us were on board for safety and comfort.
An additional three or four people often drove along behind and below us in a Land Rover towing a horse box in which the balloon was packed and carried. The livery of balloon and trailer was green and white with a huge image of Robin Hood emblazoned on the side: the logo of the Nottingham Building Society who sponsored the club.
The day I was scheduled for my first flight was in late spring 1979, and it
was to be a late afternoon/early evening flight. The weather was overcast but forecast to clear. We drove to the launch site and unrolled the packed balloon just as it started to rain.
We took shelter, but the balloon lay spread out on the grass. After the shower had passed and there looked like there was a little brightness in the sky, we attempted an inflation.
The nylon fabric of the balloon was now wet and heavy, and in order to inflate it the neck of the balloon had to be held open by two of us, with arms stretched above our heads, whilst a large fan, operated by a petrol engine, blew cold air into the envelope to separate the fabric.
When there was enough space, the burners were ignited, as they were supported by the basket which lay on its side and which was attached to the balloon envelope. A jet of flame was blown into the envelope between the two crew members to inflate the balloon and the heat was tremendous.
This took several minutes and the heat of that flame was about 12 million BTUs. Eventually the balloon took shape and gradually stood upright as the hot air filled the cavernous void and rainwater ran down the sides and off at the bottom.
With all safety checks made and the “parachute vent” at the top – used to release hot air for a controlled descent – checked and secured, we climbed aboard. There was a certain trepidation for those of us who had never flown before, even though we had been involved as ground crew on other flights.
The burner roared and the noise made it impossible to be heard. The heat made the top of our heads feel as though they had been in the sun all day, but then the basket began to bounce as it became lighter than air. The pilot gave the order for the ground crew to let go and we gradually began to lift from the ground.
We were airborne, and as the burners fired again we lifted from the ground at a surprising speed. Our recovery vehicle and trailer became smaller, and the houses and trees became diminutive dots in the landscape.
The view stretched for miles and a familiar area from the ground took on a totally new perspective. We flew at about 2,000 feet, but as we gradually descended we were all on the lookout for power lines or other obstructions which might pose a danger.
That first flight lasted for about 35 minutes on a relatively calm evening. As the light began to fade, we looked for somewhere to land, and as we were not travelling at any great speed we didn’t expect to drag along the ground, nor did we expect to tip the basket as we touched down.
In fact, my first flight was a superb event with a gentle landing in a grass field close to the road, so there would be minimal lifting of the basket, gas tanks and balloon to get it all packed away in the trailer.
During the next few years I had some magnificent flights and exciting times with the balloon and the balloon club.
We travelled to shows around the Midlands and took part in competitions. We saw the launch of a “special shape” in the form of a cottage for the building society, and at one stage a pilot, Tony, and I held the club record – for several years – for the longest duration in the club balloon.
One memorable flight was on a warm summer evening when we flew to just over 5,000 feet. Everything looked particularly small and I felt uncharacteristically vulnerable as we rarely flew over 2,000 feet.
As I looked down at my feet I could see the earth below through the wicker and wooden floor of the basket, which seemed very strange as I hadn’t noticed that before, and realised that all there was between me and the earth 5,000 feet below was a piece of wicker work and a one-inch-thick wooden plank.
On another occasion I flew with a pilot who took us up on a beautiful morning with fluffy white clouds in the sky. He skilfully flew the balloon up and over the clouds and gently placed the bottom of the basket on one of these small, ephemeral floating balls of fluff.
I looked down on this cloud and suddenly had the overwhelming urge to get out and walk on it. Fortunately I gripped one of the basket supports even harder and resisted that temptation.
The club is still in operation and I attended the 40th anniversary dinner in 2018, although my ballooning days were over many years ago.
I had a great time with my head in the clouds, but always made sure that my feet came safely back to earth.