Dropping in

Today was a special day at RAF Wyton. It was Families Day – the one day in the year when everyone (well, at least those that can get away from the office) can get out and have some fun with lots of attractions to stimulate the senses.

Today was very hit and miss with the weather. It was hot and sunny. It was black and thundery. It was bucketing down with rain. Then it was sunny again. It was a good job a lot of the attractions were in the hanger.

I took my camera along perchance to snap something half decent, mainly on the aviation front. The world’s only flying Vulcan was meant to be making an appearance, but the story goes that it flew yesterday and damaged its undercarriage on landing, hence no chance of picturing it today.

The one aerial event I did see was the RAF Falcons parachute display team dropping in on us. They got the jump in by the skin of their teeth. As they were coming down out the grey, the clouds around were like those in Cecil B De Mills’ film “The Ten Commandments” in the scene where the Red Sea is parted.

Almost as soon as they landed, the wind blew a gale, the heavens opened and everyone was rushing into the hanger. The photo here is one I got about one minute before they touched Terra Firma.

Rain Again

Today it rained. It didn't just rain - it REALLY rained. I was sat feeding my face with a couple of cheese toasties at lunch time when I heard a strange rushing, gushing, wind beating pitter patter noise. I looked out of the window. I could hardly see anything for rain lashing down at high speed with a gale blowing so hard my large potted plants were blowing over and the gazebo was tilting at a crazy angle.

Now I have to say that this kind of down-pour use to be very rare in this country. Today's torrent was reminiscent of what I used to experience when I was living in Singapore. Over there, the ground used to steam afterwards - no doubt still does! I am coming rapidly to the conclusion that the climate in this country is creeping ever closer to a tropical one. The summer ends later, the spring starts earlier, the winters are milder (what's snow?), and we are seeing more and more rats and other vermin which the cold used to kill off.

Being completely selfish, I don't really mind all this because given the choice between being warm or being cold I would always choose to be warm. I'm wearing a pullover now, and it's not cold! Even so, the temperature increase is only one aspect of climate change. We are going to see a lot more flooding and violent storms as the years go by. Because of the positive feedback contained in some of the climate change mechanisms, this process is going to gradually accelerate over time, and the insurance companies won't be able to keep pace and people won't be able to afford the premiums. Am I depressing you?

As for me, I shall continue to go and sit in a sauna and steam room, until the climate has changed so that I don't have to!

Wet Weekend in Singapore

I am very fortunate in that I live in a low rainfall part of the country - Cambridgeshire. I am also fortunate that my house is in a part of town which is safe from flooding. The news reports of the past couple of days featuring the terrible floods (terrible by British standards, though not so by Bangladeshi) further help to emphasize how lucky I am. We have a river, the Ouse, and it floods quite frequently. Thankfully, there are ample flood meadows for it to expand into where I live, but in other areas close by, like St Ives and Earith, flooding can be severe.
When I was a young airman serving a "torturous" two year tour in Singapore, I experienced my first real flood. We had a party one night (must have been Friday - we weren't at work for the next couple of days) in town at "The Dutch Club". I still have a photograph of myself at this party wearing a cream jacket and looking like I was "one over the eight". When we went to the party, everything was normal. Then it started to rain. We partied on, but the rain got steadily heavier, and then torrential - and didn't stop for several hours. When we tried to leave the club in the early hours of the morning, we didn't step down into the street as the street was now a river. The RAF sent out trucks to rescue us, as that was the only way any of us were going to get anywhere, unless we took up residence at the Dutch Club - or swam. I decided to take up a friend's offer of going back with him and his wife to their flat, rather than returning to my barrack room. As we slowly made our way along the river-road peering out of the back of the truck, I was amused to see an old man walking along up to his waist in water and holding an umbrella over his head!
My weekend at my friend's flat was, needless to say a lot more enjoyable, and comfortable than if I'd gone back to barracks. There was no chance of him being flooded out, as he lived in a 15th storey flat in an 18 storey tower. Thankfully, the flood drainage ditches did their job, and soon the floods turned to wet roads which steamed in the hot sun. It was time to go. I got a pick-up taxi back to camp, grateful for my friend's hospitality.

A Jolly Jaunt

It's Summer again and time to don the old walking boots! On Saturday just gone, myself, my brother and my eldest son set out for a 46 mile walk around 4 of the wartime (WWII that is) Pathfinder airfields in Cambridgeshire. This is an annual endurance walk organised by the RAF to commemorate the Pathfinder Squadrons who had to circle over the targets in Germany, dropping flairs to illuminate the target for the main bomber force. These airmen are absolute heroes. For the last decade or so I have met some of the survivors at their annual reunion. They risked so much in such terrifying circumstances, the mind doesn't even begin to comprehend. Many thousands of these brave men lost their lives in order to secure victory over the Nazis. It is right and fitting that their memory should be commemorated by this walk. The walk is a painful and punishing affair. It is designed to test a person's resolve and will power. I have completed this walk on 3 separate occasions and can speak from my own experience of just what a challenge it is, and if you are the sort of person who likes to be tested in this way, then I recommend it.

We set out at 4.35 am on what promised to be a really pleasant morning as far as the weather was concerned. Then, black clouds started to appear on the horizon. As they drew nearer , streamers of falling rain were apparent, so we knew we were in for a soaking. I put on my waterproof top. My brother wore his for some of the time, but after a spell of sunshine without it on, he got soaked from head to foot in a sudden downpour. Thunder rumbled around us. Our feet got very wet. This meant our socks lost their springiness, and this probably had a lot to do with the blisters my son developed. What started out as a happy, jaunty walk, gradually deteriorated into a painful slog across boggy countryside from one heavy shower to the next. The weather forecast I checked "on line" the day before said "Light rain" - yeah, right!! Even so, undeterred we plodded on, only stopping in one pub for a coffee and the chance to dry a little. At around 17 miles into it we were pleased that we were feeling pretty good, as this augured well for our forthcoming attack on the West Highland Way next month. However, after about 20 miles, we really started to feel the strain. At around this point, you have used up most of your blood sugars and you start to burn into your body's energy reserves - fat. We struggled on for a total of 33 miles until we reached the fifth checkpoint at Bluntisham, where we were apologetically told by one of the organisers that we were not being allowed to continue and were to be taken back in the comfort of the minibus. The reason for this terrible blow was because it was now getting late in the day and the amount of time and weather conditions made it an unwise option to continue. For that reason the option was denied us. What a tragedy. My son really wanted to hobble on despite the excruciating pain of his expanding blisters. Myself and my brother were also gutted at not being able to continue despite feeling utterly exhausted and near to collapsing. What a shame!!! Next year maybe - maybe not!