Sunday am, wind about 25 kts from the south, lowish cloud, drizzly
rain, but forecast to clear later on, so I postpone the trip to
Kangaroo Island to visit the Old Man until Sunday arvo.

After lunch I drag Dorothy out of the hangar into the fresh breeze,
shut the doors and crank up. Dorothy comes off the ground like a
startled rabbit and we hit 400' before we cross the far end fence.
Wind shear can make any aircraft look sprightly...
However, the cloudbase is still only 1500' so the route over the
peninsula to Cape Jervis is out, maybe we can go via the coast from
Goolwa. I dodge around a shower of fine misty drizzle near
Strathalbyn, noting the odd patch of low cloud cunningly concealed
within the rain and almost completely invisible (as forecast- the guys
at the met bureau do a pretty good job these days). As I approach
Goolwa the weather to the West along the coast is still looking very
marginal so I call inbound to Goolwa and drop in to see how Geoff
Eastwood is getting on.

They are having a major fly-in and airshow spectacular extravaganza on
February 25th and are working on the publicity and promotions for the
event. I while away a pleasant hour over a free cup of coffee telling
fibs, and Geoff encourages me to take a few of the promotional posters
and stick them up around the place.

After an hour has passed, the weather looks a little more friendly, so
I crank up again and head towards Victor Harbour. The cloud base is
now around 2000' and the drizzle has pretty well gone except for a
little inland of the coast. The wind has gone a little easterly,so I
pick up a slight tailwind as I blatt along with a rather bleak looking
sea on my left and the hills and cliffs on my right.

Approaching Deep Creek conservation park, a little dot just above the
horizon attracts my attention. Hmmm...helicopter?...bird?.. then it
disappears. I scan the area ahead and below and pick up a white object
against the scrub background which I think could be the top of a
telecommunications tower (you see them everywhere these days), but
then it moves and as I get closer I realise it is a hang glider about
500' below my level. Then I pick up another, and then a third, about
two miles ahead and below. As I get nearer, I rock my wings to let
them know I have seen them. I hope they have seen me, because if they
haven't they are going to be very unnerved by the sound of Dorothy's
exhaust stacks going straight overhead....

Round the corner to Cape Jervis and the sky clears ahead and above so
we scramble up to 3000' for the crossing over Backstairs Passage. I
keep checking behind as we sail out over the water, looking to see
when I have reached the point where I can no longer return to the
Cape, and a swim is a certainty if the engine quits. Then I start
checking ahead, looking to see when the swim to the Island is shorter
than the swim back to the Cape. Once I reach that point, I focus my
attention forward, until I am in gliding range of the Island, and then
I am checking where I will aim for (it starts on the tiny beach at the
base of one of the cliffs, and then moves to the tops of the hills and
the better paddocks). During this transition, I also keep an eye on
the location of the Sealink Ferry- if I have to go for a swim,
dropping in next to the ferry could be a better alternative than
trying to make the shore. At 3000' the total time out of range of land
is only about 2 or 3 minutes, but if the worst happens, its as well to
have a plan in mind.

With Peneshaw behind me, I tune the Kingscote frequency, make the
mandatory call, and get the automatic response. My mobile phone buzzes
in my pocket and I check to see that Dad is calling, but don't bother
to answer as neither he nor I will be able to hear a thing.

At Kingscote the wind is straight down 19 so I decide to use it even
though it will remove rubber from my new tyres. There is still a good
20-25 knots blowing, and it looks gusty so chancing a cross wind might
be pushing my luck.
Its crowded at the light aircraft park- there are five other lighties
parked there, and I wonder if these are the same 5 that Geoff Eastwood
said overflew his airfield a day or so previously en route to Aldinga
from somewhere in Victoria.

With Dorothy pegged down I give Dad a call and he drives out from
Kingscote to collect me. Not bad for 87 years of age, but he defers to
me whenever I am on the island, so I slot into the driver's seat and
we head for town.

I spend the afternoon helping Dad install the new car seat covers we
bought him for his birthday, and drinking coffee and eating scones at
the Island Beehive- my sister and brother-in-law's honey extraction
plant and tourist trap on the main road into town. Then its around to
my sister's place for tea, and a solid night's sleep in the
unaccustomed silence of the country.

The next day I am the chauffer for my Dad and one of his many
girlfriends (the advantage of living to his age is that there is very
little competition from other males- the disadvantage is...well... you
can guess...) and we run out to Vivonne Bay (recently voted the most
beautiful beach in Australia) where he is treated to a birthday lunch
by three of his grandchildren and entertained by one of his
great-grandchildren.

By the time I had to leave, the clouds had broken up and the wind had
become a light southeasterly.The cloudbase was just under 4000', so I
continued the climb out of Kingscote to 4,500' and sailed over the top
of the scattered fluffiness. At that altitude we were never out of
range of land, and the wind was more southerly so the GPS gave me a
three-figure ground speed. I held this altitude until we were almost
abeam Strathalbyn, keeping a close eye on the navigation to ensure we
didn't wander into the 2,500' CTA step near Meadows. The big jets were
using runway 23 at Adelaide, so there was little likelihood of
conflict anyway. (The other day, returning from Aldinga at 2,500' I
saw a large shadow below me heading in the opposite direction. I
glanced up to see a Virgin 737 probably out of Melbourne on descent
towards a right base for runway 05. He was probably at about 3,500' at
the time.It pays to keep ahead of the navigation when operating near
the CTA limits.)

At Callington, the usual seabreeze had me landing on 16 and I managed
a passable 3-pointer with nary a skip or a hop and stopped before the
cross strip. Pity the navigator wasn't with me, I thought, as I taxied
in. You can bet the next time she flies with me it'll be kangaroo-hops
all over the place....

Coop