We asked Carol Walker to put some words together to explain the history and the reasons behind the presentation of the trophy that bears her father's name. This is her first draft and we didn't want to see it wasted.

My lovely dad, John Paul Walker was like a bouncing ball. To him every moment was for fun, exploration, learning new skills, amusing others, helping the needy and he was exceptionally thirsty for knowledge.
Dad, in his adolescence, craved to participate in every pastime taking place in the neighbourhood. His favourites, second only to teaching himself to be a very skilled Wurlitzer organist/entertainer, were leading a scouts’ group, singing in the Church choir and entering the county table tennis competitions.
After a short while, a yearning for more excitement ate him up and he joined the local ATC which opened the shell of what was to be the love of his life – aviation! Albeit somewhat reluctantly, Dad was sent off to Harwarden in North Wales, as was his brother, to spend two years in the RAF for national service. Whilst fulfilling an administrative role, Dad was ‘over the moon’ (albeit not literally) to be taught to fly a glider! Though only 18 years old on recruiting, he returned to ‘civvy street after two years, rebuking the offer of training for a commission.
The years went by and as he neared his ‘older years’ Dad joined the Fellowship of the Services and before long he had reached the rank of District Chairman. This opened an opportunity to participate in activities of all armed services by assisting those in need and recruiting new members.
I became trapped in the love of aviation and after a few discussions with Dad, I embarked on flying lessons and earned my licence in 2005. During these hectic years, Dad sadly developed a very serious and eminently terminal illness. However, true to chtrio aracter, he struggled through pain and anguish to support me in every possible way, travelling around the country, saying a prayer for me and visiting air shows and becoming friends with lots of my wonderful aviation ‘family members’.
The most proud moment of his life, I believe, was when at Little Gransden accompanying me on the day of a lesson, my tutor suddenly jumped out of the aircraft and told me to fly it solo! Very little could beat that occasion and such memories helped him through his illness.
After he sadly died in 2009 in my grief I decided that I wished to pay tribute to his wonderful life, to his kindness and his love for aviation. As I have attended the Air Racing events over several years, I decided to dedicate a trophy for a race in his memory for the RRR’s first Concours d’Elegance for which there was previously no trophy available. WE WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER DAD’S LOVE FOR AVIATION – AND THE LOVE AND AFFECTION OF ALL INVOLVED FOR HIS MEMORY.

In her spare time, Carol is a harpist in the trio 'Schrodinger's Strings'

...or should that be irritating?

3.   And the race leader is . . . Lasagne with Chips 

For an air race commentary to go well, there is a veritable pond full of ducks which need to be lined up in that proverbial row. So much so that if you were trying to line up real ducks in a real row it would take four Peter Scotts and a couple of David Attenboroughs to give you a fighting chance. The odds against can be of that sort of magnitude. Yet sometimes they manage to get by, despite the unpromising circumstances and challenging restrictions.

I remember turning up at Haverfordwest to find that the PA equipment had been set up in an old double-decker bus. Well at least it was on the top deck, but next time you find yourself on the upper deck of a bus (honestly Royal Aero Club, there are such places), note just how much sky you can see. Even if it were possible to sit on the floor, just think – in a race, aeroplanes approach from one direction, turn overhead (the most interesting bit) and then depart in a different one. Can you imagine trying to view all that successfully from a bus seat? I couldn't, even when I was doing it, but somehow it seemed to go OK.

I love Haverfordwest. Headed there one year for commentary, we got weathered out on the Friday evening and had to overnight in Swansea. Craig and Ali were there too. The following morning was sparklingly beautiful although there was still some mist here and there so we followed the Pup low level along the coast past the Gower and Tenby until we could see a clear route into Withybush – what a great name! It was one of those flights of a lifetime that I'll always picture.

At Compton Abbas, if Swainey and Trev weren't there with the gear, it was all down to the reception PA, normally used mainly for calling out the order numbers of lunches, when the waitresses couldn't find the customer who was waiting to eat out on the terrace. This meant that the commentary could be punctuated with interjections like "customer for lunch 79, please." Such a request for relay would be passed up to me by one of the reception staff coming outside and attracting or distracting my attention, according to your view of priorities; or sometimes one of the waitresses herself would shout up herself in desperation. 

I say "up" because the preferred place for commentary at Compton was from the flat(tish) roof above reception, up the steep iron ladder, before the days of the first-floor extension. The microphone

lead was fed through the reception window to our viewpoint. We would take up a couple of chairs, "we" assuming I could pressgang someone, usually Jane Wilson, to climb the ladder with me to keep a lap chart, and generally things worked, provided that there were not too many would-be lunchers so enthralled by my attempt at explanation of what they were seeing that they became impervious to the delightful young ladies shouting "Number 15". Sometime race numbers and lunch numbers became interchanged, as if things weren't complicated enough.

One year, not only was there no one available to perform the logging, but on reaching the roof to set up I found that the connecting lead was shorter that year and that the only way to get close enough to the microphone to pass my helpful gems of information on the progress of the race (and of course those other digits relating to the progress of lunch) was to lean forward uncomfortably through the guard rails, my body taking up the shape popularly attributed to King Richard III. Holding the mike took one hand and strictly speaking, keeping myself alive required another. That tended to have used up my full allocation of hands, which made reference to notes or anything more than a single sheet of Runners and Riders a total non-starter.

This commentary would be busked from start to finish, if I could avoid falling head-first onto the terrace. Busked it was – but apparently I got away with it yet again. In fact I think it went rather better than on some occasions when there has been the opportunity to surround myself with papers galore, stopwatches, binoculars, airband radio, the lot. Being well prepared and organised, it seems, is no guarantee of success.

I know that most air racing pilots and crews would, comparing their efforts to some of their results, almost certainly say the same.

Next time in the final part of Confessions of an Itinerant Commentator:

Air Racing on the Riviera. You didn't know we did? And . . . An Embarrassing Sequel.

Paddy Carpenter recently celebrated 50 years as a writer and filmmaker. He heard about Air Racing from Ken Wilson while he was in the earliest stages of his flight training at Staverton in 1980. He claims to be far too sensible to have ever raced or navigated although he is married to someone who isn't, so he can't be totally sane. As Ken also introduced him to Safaya, many years before they got together, that man Wilson has a lot to answer for! Paddy's recent novel, UNSAFE - The Script of One-Zero-Three, which reinvestigates Lockerbie and contains much flying, is now available - details on www.paddycarpenter.com and links or check it out on Amazon worldwide.

May 2015 - What can I say? A month into the flying programme and it has already exceeeeeded my wildest expectations. This year it was decided that, as DRAM is a seaplane, she should enter the Schneider Trophy. Initially this had been the plan in July 2006 when the floats were to be first fitted, but due to circumstances on the other side of the Atlantic they were delayed by 6 months, and the moment passed. Handicapped Air Racing, is organised by the Royal Aero Club and involves getting an FAI (Federation Aeronautique Internationale) Race Licence, insurance approval, a Royal Aero Club Handicap and partaking in two races prior to the Schneider itself (27th September 2015) on Alderney. Some common sense maths were applied to the principle of 45degree bank racing turns at speed, and Turnberry lighthouse became a practice turning point for one glorious spring evening in late April.

The race weekend at Abbeville in France (9/10 May 2015) presented itself as the perfect opportunity to get all these requirements completed, and have a continental adventure into the bargain. Seven days were set aside, and leave scrounged from the day job, and despite 30-50kt winds, a safe, yet steady route was negotiated to Abbeville, with social stops (and warm hangarage) at Gloucester and Shoreham on the way out, and Cambridge and Sleap on the return. My trusty navigator flew in from Copenhagen and rendezvoused with DRAM and I in 1920s style at Brighton City (Shoreham Airport). And so, the adventure began. 

We'd set the Thursday aside to visit some of the WW1 memorials, in particular the grave of my Great-Uncle, Lance Corporal Norman Gibson, my granny's wee brother, killed at Roclincourt near Arras. He is commemorated on the war memorial at Prestwick, where he spent his 18 short years. I had visited several years ago, and planted some little yellow Prestwick sobhrachans (pron. shiorachans), Gaelic for 'primroses' - his mother, my GtGtGrandmother was a native Gaelic speaker, cleared off their land on Mull in the 1800s. Perhaps that is why I return so often to Glenforsa Airstrip.....just 4 miles away from my ancestral home.

Slightly nervous about flaunting the kilt after the Election Result, our whisky, banter and tasteful shirts were warmly welcomed into the Racing fraternity, and a keen interest was taken in the two headwind generators that were attached to our amphibious aerial chariot. Saturday dawned with a sporty 20-25kt wind, resulting in the most challenging race conditions that the ensemble could remember (that may be due to old age and Tomintoul 10yr single malt). Despite this, Team DRAM finished a very respectable 10th out of 17, and there was much hearty congrats and cheering at the lively evening dinner.

Sunday, the Battle of Britain Trophy race day, saw perfect conditions, a gentle 10kts westerly, and few cumulus at about 1500'. We soon got into the race mindset. Set course, aim for the turning point, check altitude, and repeat ...... Best to keep a log of which lap you are on, as at 700ft and 131mph indicated, it is easy to lose track (so to speak). The 5 laps of 23 miles each, round the Somme estuary flew by (scuse the pun), and as we turned the final marker we started to get worried. Where was the swarm of RV8s and Rallyes that had buzzed past us by this stage yesterday? Keeking over the left shoulder in our 7o'clock, we could just see the bandits a mile or so behind, approaching the last Turning Point .... but by this stage we were in sight of the finish at Abbeville Airport. We passed over the Somme at 700ft, from whence we could commence a final dive to 100ft toward the finish line. The nose lowered, the airspeed rose, 140, 150, 160..... the altitude wound down 600, 400,200..... the line of poplars and the A16 tollroad flashed past underneath.........we could see the fear in the truck-drivers eyes .....yet, we nervously held our line, looking over our shoulders, left and right, expecting to be bypassed at any second ......but it never came......the finishing line blurred past in a huge black and white chequered flaggyness and we pulled up into a gentle climb to 1200ft and had a nervous giggle to ourselves......"did we just cross the line first?"...."Sacre Bleu"........then the doubt sets in......."I think I cut one of the corners at TP1"......."we can't have won"........"NO WAY" . We waited for all the other racers to cross the line, join the circuit and land ahead (we needed a little more care as we could only use the intermediate exit and didn't want to hold up the landing stream with our supermarche-trolley-like taxiing tendencies). And so, to the grass parking, engine shutdown, adrenaline still racing, and the calming tick-tick-tick of a gently cooling 210HP, 5.4litre Continental flat-six (IO360DB)...... Chilling out on the grass in glorious 24deg sunshine, listening to the skylarks celebrating overhead, this felt good. 

Royal Aero Club Records Racing & Rally Association 

Chairman’s Report – 2014

How do we describe success ? In 2014 we ran a full season of air races all our favourite venues especially Abbeville and Alderney but also two new airfields, Popham in Hampshire and Perth in Scotland. The weather did its best to deter us from racing but we managed a full program sometimes under substantial threats. My water stained briefing notes and start line documents are evidence that it wasn’t all straight forwards.  

In a year when fuel prices have reached an all-time peak there is no doubt that air racing participation needs careful planning to get the most out of flying time and costs. Changes to our handicap system have delivered opportunities to reduce octagon checks and therefore flying times. Experimentation with shorter courses also has some promise of cost savings. For sure we have to make it possible for prospective racers to see a viable entry level cost for becoming a racing pilot and I hope that 2015 will provide some opportunities to consider this.

The cancellation of the race school was disappointing but commercially sensible especially as we can cover training and check-outs for FAI licences throughout the season. But new members are critical to our future and I am hopeful that potential new members will at the very least get involved as ground crew if they fail to take to the air on first contact. Looking ahead many experienced members are returning to race in 2015, so four or five competitive pilots will be out there for this season. This is good news because a racing field of 15 aircraft definitely constitutes a race in my book and provides a measure of entertainment on the ground welcomed by host airfields.

In brief, the 2014 season had a slow start, only 6 competitors at Shobdon (some easy early championship points) and at Leicester some very bad weather early Saturday kept many entries away. Pouring with rain we stood in the café at 10:15am without a single aircraft on the apron. Then as if from nowhere the sun came out and six aircraft arrived in time for the briefing and two days racing and more easy championship points.

What a contrast then to arrive in Abbeville France for a sun drenched weekend, 13 racers enjoying a great weekend and the wonderful company of Serge Weibel and his supporting cast. Excellent hospitality and a locally organised war memorial flypast on the Sunday. 

Our return to the Isle of Wight and to Sandown was full of expectation after some troubled times at this venue in the past. The weather threatened the Saturday race and the start line was a very unpleasant and wet place to be, but did not prevent 15 starters chase the Goodyear Trophy and finish in brilliant sunshine. 

The southern course was also surprisingly challenging with a very variable race course profile. A fantastic family weekend for many competitors, regrettable only in that we might not be returning to Sandown any time soon.      

Popham welcomed us for the first time, Airfield Manager - Gerry Smith doing a great job on the ground as we squeezed ourselves into the busy space between Solent Zone and Heathrow TMA. We managed this well although a phone call to NATS on Monday did indicate our close proximity to Solent had a few bells ringing, something of no consequence in the end but something we can improve on in our return to Popham this year.. don’t miss it, all you who went on holiday last year. Suzy Church owner of Popham was hugely enthusiastic at the prize giving and we are very welcome back this year.Shobdon and the Kings Cup was the usual crowd pleaser on a lovely sunny weekend, new members and pilots again took an early shower as the “Lancaster” got a repeat airing on the Saturday evening. 

Close finishes here at Shobdon continue to demonstrate that the new handicapping software continues to improve. Mark Turner has contributed considerably to the technical arguments need to provide reliable and fair software for the club and engineered the resulting programs into a dependable if still developing system. All credit to the handicap technical team, Chairman-Cliff Hawkins and his secondees for very effectively benchmarking these procedures.

On then to Scotland and Perth for the first time in the middle of independence referendums. Two races successfully run whilst it is fair to say the Scottish Aero Club and the airfield management were on a steep learning curve. The Air Ambulance based at Perth also added some entertainment to the organisational challenges.. but we got there in the end and the weather held off just long enough for us to complete a successful first visit to Scotland.

With a Grand Finale in Alderney where there is so much co-operation it is almost embarrassing. This is much driven by our adopted son Ralph Burridge and our organisation is supported so well on the island, by the States of Guernsey and by our sponsors Aurigny, Reynards, AEL Avgas, Bavarian, this venue is of course “special”. Some close racing ensued and just one second separating John Kelsall, the winner of the Schneider Trophy from second place returning racer Nigel Reddish further evidence the new handicapping system is providing a challenge for pilots.

The future

The club does need to continue to re-invest in equipment and assets that can support a credible championship. So with advances in handicap software we need faster computing power and more accurate GPS data. Fortunately we can support this through excellent financial management from Dave Lee our Treasurer and a prospective surplus for the second year running in 2014. 

On this point it is clear that the future development of the club relies heavily on increasing membership in any category. Last year we met a number of people including one very young enthusiast who eventually got a navigators seat with Michael Wingenroth. I would be keen to see such enthusiasm supported by an additional class of membership, who could benefit from receiving the online excellent “Aeroracer” publish by stalwart committee member Dan Pangbourne. Ground crew are in short supply this year and it is alternative none racing membership that could fill these roles to great effect and with impartiality.

Airfields generally continue to welcome us back and to the point that we may have to introduce a two year cycle for some venues. There are also possibilities of engaging with other events that would allow us to run races in conjunction with these to good effect. More news on this as we move into 2015.

I want to avoid a long list of thank you’s here because there are so many. But Judy Hanson who’s behind the scenes efforts are hard to quantify because they are so important.. is intending to retire. We have recruited another hard working volunteer Pete Chilcott as the apprentice and during the season he will be working alongside her to learn the ropes. Peter already contributes enormously to the Club as Webmaster, Social Secretary and Turn Point Marshall.. !!

So we have New season ahead of us with many challenges.. but the prospect of improved numbers of 
racers and close finishes. All we need now is the weather to be on our side as ever. I hope that we can build on the solid foundation we have in committee with an excellent work sharing ethic. I would like to that all of the committee retiring or up for re-election for their support and understanding throughout 2014.

I wish you all a good seasons racing and an interesting and informative symposium.

Mike Pearson

Chairman

January 2015

Whilst reading one of my many aviation magazines I came across an advert for an Air Racing school 
to be held at North Weald, I was fascinated and read on. I discovered that Air Racing in the UK was 
very much alive and well. 

I was highly aware of the role that air racing and in particular the Schneider Trophy Air race had 
had a major role in the development of aircraft in particular the Supermarine Spitfire, in fact it was 
a direct development of the 1931 Schneider Trophy winning Supermarine S6B. Its engine was also 
significant in that it was the forerunner of the Rolls Royce Merlin, probably the most significant 
engine of World War Two.

I read on and found there was still time to enrol for the introduction to air racing to find out more. 
The course was extremely informative and I was happy to discover that I was eligible to go to the 
next race meeting. It was to be held at Leicester which is only a matter of 25 minutes flying time 
from my home field at Netherthorpe. I filled in the necessary form and contacted my Insurance 
Company to modify my policy to include Handicapped Air Racing and was pleasantly surprised 
to find that there was no extra cost. I had an aircraft which was ideally suitable, an RV6 although 
any aircraft which is capable of more than 100 mph and can be flown at full throttle for up to an 
hour will be fine. As pilot I needed to have more than 100 hours as pilot in command which I have 
and that was it. I enquired of the air racing secretary and I was allotted a vacant race number and 
allowed to enter the race. 

I and a colleague, Glynn arrived at Leicester to find a widely varied collection of pilots of all ages and 
backgrounds and for that matter aircraft too. I was immediately accepted and entered into the race 
field. 

Initially I had to undergo a check flight with one of the check pilots who gave me yet more insight 
into the how to effectively race an aircraft. The check flight done to Robert’s satisfaction I had 
to provide the handicappers with a flat-out speed for my aircraft, this could be established from 
experience or my flying a straight course up-wind and down-wind between two visual points for a 
given time and taking an average. In any event I was warned that as the declared speed would be 
used to calculate start times and if I was found to have exceeded my declared speed by more than 
one percent I would be disqualified. I declared 184mph and off we went to the pre practice briefing.

Here we were given a course overlaid on a standard 1:50000 Ordnance Survey map. Turning points 
were indicated and our mission during the practice was to find the turning points and select roll-
out points so that we could turn the corner and roll out as accurately onto out next track without 
diverging from the true track. This might be a ground feature such as a prominent building or 
perhaps the corner of a wood or lake, anything indeed which could be easily seen during the turn. 
Four laps later we were happy that we had imprinted the course on to our brains and we were ready 
to go.

We fuelled up had a light lunch and we were ready to race. Following a pre-race briefing we were 
given a start time which, due to our speed put us quite close to the back of the grid. As this is 
handicapped air racing and each aircraft has a different speed all the aircraft start at different times 
behind the scratch aircraft (the first away). The aim is that if the handicappers get their calculations 
for the start times correct and all the pilots fly a good race then all the aircraft will cross the line at 
the same time. This seldom happens but generally all the aircraft in a race, sometimes 25 aircraft get 
over the line in around a minute.

As it happened in our case we completely turned inside the first turning point and although we 
finished the race we were disqualified for cutting the corner.

The following day the Sunday was a good day and believe it or not this day’s race was the magical 
Schneider Trophy. I decided to race despite the fact that my colleague Glynn had to work so I was 
alone. New racers are encouraged to fly with a navigator to learn from their experience and to 
observe where the other aircraft are especially when approaching a turning point.

One of the officials offered to find me a navigator and he really came up trumps. My new navigator 
was to be a female pilot who had already won the Schneider a couple of years earlier. To cut a long 
story short we were not eligible to actually win the Schneider due to the cut corner we had cut in 
the previous race although we did actually cross the line first, thanks largely to my new navigator, In 
fact I learned more during that race from Safaya than I would have on my own during the next two 
seasons. She helped me keep the aircraft on track, helped me to get as close to the turning points as 
possible, but not too close and not to climb and descend too much along the track.

I took it all in and quickly realised that I had found one of aviations best kept secrets.

There were several races left during that season and I did my best to get to them all, slowly I became 
better and learnt the tricks of the trade such as which parts of the aircraft to polish and how to best 
align the aircraft with the turning point to get as close as possible without cutting it and how best to 
set the aircraft up to become as consistent racer as possible.

I had some success inasmuch as I achieved what formula one guys call podium positions, but most of 
all I had found something I could use my hard won PPL for. 

As a member of a busy flying club I saw so many students come and spend £5000 to gain their 
private pilots licence and then fly their girl or boyfriend to the local airfields for the “£100 
hamburger” or even make a more adventurous trip across the channel for lunch in Le Touquet. So 
may then came less and less and eventually left aviation for other things.

At last here in Air racing I have found something to use to stretch my abilities and a way to improve 
my flying skills. Not only from the point of view of the actual racing but by making me become a 
student of meteorology to enable me to judge the best time to fly to a race meeting, I might better 
fly on a Friday afternoon to get there before worse weather en route or alternatively leave it till 
Saturday morning to get there.

I first found air racing back in 1999 and since then I have raced almost every summer save for one 
when I found myself as Chief Handicapper for the season. I was soon back in the saddle as it were 
and now flying my newly built RV7 I was blessed with success at the first race of the season winning 
both the Saturday and Sunday races. My successful season continued and as well as achieving a 
couple of further wins I ended the season having won the magical Schneider Trophy and the British 
Air Racing championship.

Since then I have had good seasons and less good but every season has been thoroughly enjoyable 
both from the flying side and from the social side. A very experienced air racer once said that “Air 
racing at Reno is full blown air racing with a social side attached but here we have a significant social 
event with Air racing attached”

We arrive at a meeting mostly on Friday and have a meal together on Friday evening and then 
on Saturday evening have a more formal get together sometimes Black Tie. We race on Saturday 
following the practice and again on Sunday and following the presentation of trophies and 
sometimes prizes we make our way home. 

As I said earlier what we have is aviations best kept secret and unless you come and sample the 
delights of Handicapped Air racing you will never know what you are missing.

John Kelsall Vans RV7 Race 15

......or should that be irritating?

Out of the Comfort Zone

If the rain hits us, as it seems it must – that squall you can see on the hills, sweeping towards the airfield – you know that whichever chair you’ve chosen, the hard plastic one or the slightly upholstered one, you're soon going to end up sitting in the equivalent of a puddle. Nevertheless, it can't be put off much longer; in fact even as you push the thing forward towards the edge of the narrow walkway you realise that you've left it too late. The first Lycoming or Continental fires up, not too many feet from the unprotected ears of the gallant audience dotting the lawn and lining the fence below. Whatever pearls of wisdom you might or might not have ready to drop – about the scratch man and the other early competitors – are going to be drowned out by the racket of their very subjects.

Picking up the microphone from the seat, the flex mysteriously and without any encouragement wraps itself around your leg and you can't disentangle yourself because you need your full complement of hands to move the chair and hold your folder and clip board. In your preoccupation, you hit your head on some component of the control tower's window framing, which of course is splayed outwards to fulfill just that purpose. Cursing mildly you almost instantly hear someone saying a rude word through the public address and realise that it was you. You have managed to flick the ON switch on the mike. Thank goodness you didn't on this occasion use your habitual comprehensive and colourful range of expletives.

Eventually settling onto the perch you open your red ring binder in which, if you have had time, you have placed all the runners and riders in race departure order, except that you haven't actually got the handicap times from the computer yet, so they are in a best-guess order that will have to do. The order turns out to be immaterial. As your single available hand attempts to turn to the one with the big number corresponding to that painted on the scratch man's aeroplane, a monster gust hits the walkway and is funnelled direct to the folder. With a rattle like an old electric typewriter, several pages of competitors' notes flap over, rip through their punched holes and take off in the direction of Leominster. Slamming the folder shut in the nick of time and creasing a dozen of the surviving pages permanently, you resign yourself to the fact that memory will have to suffice and that this year the scratchman's 3rd place success in the 1996 Battle of Britain Trophy will not be shared with or silently applauded by the crowd.

What crowd? You notice that no one is to be seen. Perhaps that's because they have appreciated just how close that squall now is and have dived into the bar or the café. With several minutes to race flag-down you wish you could join them. Why on earth do you do this?

It's all Ralph Burridge's fault. It was that day in October 1998 that he strolled out of the Alderney hangar and casually suggested that there was a microphone and PA set up and did I fancy telling the assembled spectators something of what was going on? Why he assumed I might know what was going on he never made clear. Thank goodness I didn't have too long to allow myself to worry about the prospect or it never would have happened – because, believe it or not, I have always been quite shy. I could quite happily go on stage and act, because acting is hiding, the sanctuary of the shy show-off. I could control a film set too, even with hundreds of people on it, because that is a form of acting too, but actually making a formal announcement was something else, and the idea of talking to people through a microphone for an hour was almost unbelievable. I still can't really take on board that I do it, and have been, on and off, for 16 years now.

In those days spectators at all the popular venues were entertained by the legendary duo of Ken Ellis and John Swain – and being within earshot of one of the PA speakers during a race was a must if you had a sense of humour, and who in the air racing fraternity doesn't have one of those? I used to feel sad for the officials whose duties kept them away from the fun and in the couple of seasons when I sometimes worked the turning points with Ken Chilcott I felt I was missing out. The commentators' caravan outside race time was a laughter-magnet with pilots, navigators and retired racers constantly dropping by for a chat and some banter.

There were places too distant or too sparsely attended to make it viable to take the trailer and equipment, which generally meant no star commentators, which is where I came in. Organisers at those venues, like Alderney, who had a PA and wanted someone to try and decipher for their spectators the strange and incomprehensible spectacle unfolding before and above them, would gravitate or be pointed in my direction and like Ralph before them offer a challenge I couldn't refuse. I joined the commentary team by degrees, even if the commentary team didn't actually know I was doing it.

Next time: Of Lap Charts - and Dancing!



Paddy Carpenter recently celebrated 50 years as a writer and filmmaker. He heard about Air Racing from Ken Wilson while he was in the earliest stages of his flight training at Staverton in 1980. He claims to be far too sensible to have ever raced or navigated although he is married to someone who isn't, so he can't be totally sane. As Ken also introduced him to Safaya, many years before they got together, that man Wilson has a lot to answer for! Paddy's recent novel, UNSAFE - The Script of One-Zero-Three which investigates Lockerbie and contains much flying, is now available - details on www.paddycarpenter.com and links.