| Submitted By: | jayeandscott@shaw.ca | ||
| Email List: | RV-List,RV-Canada,RV6-List | ||
| Name: | Jaye and Scott Jackson | ||
| Date: | Nov 16 2002 | ||
| Subject: | First Flight! | ||
| Description: | After six-and-a-half years of winter-time building, two moves, one-and-a-half years in storage,about fifty-thousand Canadian dollars( about 450USD), and several final hours spent working up normal and emergency checklists and practicing a bailout routine-I made the canopy jettisonable: I am both pleased( strike that, Moneypenny; make that thrilled) as well as disappointed to announce that RV-6 #24613 has left the nest as of 16Aug02. Into a light wind, the Imitutor surged down the runway and leapt into the clear, evening sky, giving real meaning to the word airBORNE for me. For fourty minutes, while being put through the manoeuvres recommended in "Flight Testing Homebuilt Aircraft", we scribed gentle circles over the tidal flats downwind of the into-wind runway as I became acquainted with the vibration and control feel during clean and partial-flap turns and stalls. A pratice go-around was followed by a surprisingly gentle touchdown and straighforward rollout. Sitting on a piece of foamy cut from the kids' sleeping bag underlay-which they haven't yet discovered, I felt trussed like a Christmas turkey in Nomex suit and gloves, leather boots, life vest( the runway ends at the dike holding back the Pacific Ocean),parachute and an old, Gentex helmet on which I kept the tinted visor down; ostensibly to give additional protection from a birstrike with one of the steady streams of seagulls returning to the ocean from the city dump after supper; but actually so no one could see I needed my half-frame glasses just to see the instruments. The workshop is now cold, dark and quiet. The silhouette of the fuselage is faintly visible on the floor, outlined by paint overspray. You'd have to look through the layer of drilled-off rivet heads and punched-out tails, sharp little coils of aluminum looking like shiny curly fries, short lengths of wiring insulation, heatshrink and plastic tubing that look enough like macaroni to keep fooling our terrier, fine aluminum powder from the Scotchbrite wheel and white curlies and powder from cutting and fitting the canopy, brown stripes of masking tape and the twin, green stripes of rivetting tape. I know it wouldn't hurt to look around for the broom, but I felt the shop had atmosphere. I'd like to personally thank the wise people who invented plastic-covered aluminum sheet, oops rivets, blind rivets, brad-point drills, rivet-spacing fans, Unibits, HVLP and Scotchbrite wheels. Also those patient folk on this list who take the time to explain the stupidest questions for the rest of us. And controller Rick, who graciously sent all other traffic at Canada's third-busiest airport to the crosswind runway and kept them all away from me. On the other hand, if I ever come across the masochists who thought up Proseal, fibreglass, Phillips-head screws or fly cutters... To list the people instrumental in this experience, I would have to start with Peter Jarman. This is all his fault for giving me a key to his 180hp RV-4 after I helped him wire and finish it. It only took a few flights before I had a serious case of," I want one!" He loaned me all his building tools over half-a decade ago, and made numerous, hour-long trips to the shop on his unmuffled Harley. The neighbours must've thought we were drug dealers. He phoned frequently, not even saying Hi, just starting with,"What are you doing on your airplane today?" Whenver he sensed I was flagging, we would go somewhere in his -4. Coming from a military family, I respond best to butt-kicking, and he's verbally kicked mine for six years. Thanks, Peter. Sorry about breaking the trigger off your rivet gun. Many others also helped and the wall by the shop phone is covered with their phone nuimbers. Jim Asprey was our inspector as well as building his own -6. He eased the pain of the mandatory $642 fee for the final inspection by spending over four hours on, in and under it so I at least felt like I was getting something for the money. Brian Carr has built seven of these and had an answer for every dumb question.Milt Sadoway would interrupt buidling his Rocket whenever I needed help. Tedd McHenry skipped supper on short notice to act as follow-on vehicle on the move to the airport. August P. was kind enough to let me abuse his -6 in a rehearsal of the test flight and several circuits just hours before it happened for real. Oldest child, and our only son, Gregory, helped rivet the empennage but discovered girls when the wings arrived. Oldest daughter Vanessa, who can't wait to learn to fly, spent one evening in the tailcone lying on a carpet remnant with a trouble light, ear defenders and an assortment of bucking bars on her tummy. We made great progress rivetting on the turtledeck until her Mom discovered Vanessa's bed was empty at 2300 on a school night and shut us down. They, along with younger daughters, Elisabeth and Samantha, completely covered the fuselage in Sharpie-pen art, some of it quite touching, most of it gross. There was so many hangings, stabbings, vomitting,flatulence, and toilet humour that I started to worry I'd failed as a father.When I peeled the plastic off, I saved some of it for the shop walls. All four tried not to make me feel guitly as they individually trekked through the darkness and puddles to the shop for help with their homework or to wish me a good night. In appreciation of their help and recognition of the price they, too, paid, the registration is C-GSEV. And last, but certainly not the least, is my long-suffering better-half, Jaye. We met when I was finishing my first homebuilt, a Pitts S1, so she's no stranger to airplane parts in the dining room and behind the living-room couch, plans on the night table and parts catalogues beside the tub. Despite having a big family to raise and a big home to look after, she always dropped whatever she was doing to appear in the shop within minutes of a call for another pair of hands. And,as I control in income and she looks after the outgo, Jaye always managed to find the money for the seemingly-endless stream of four-figure purchases aircraft require. The children all seem to have clothes and shoes. They don't look malnourished. I'm not really sure I WANT to know how she did it. My biulding experience was quite a journey of discovery. In the beginning, way back at drilling the aluminum straps to the horizontal stabilizer rear spar, I was so worried about wrecking it. My learning curve wasn't a curve at all, it was a vertical line. But, confidence comes fast. By the end, I felt like there wasn't any problem I could not solve or screwup I could not fix. The three biggest that come to mind are closing the garage door on an aileron (oh well, I wasn't too happy with it anyways) rivetting the gearleg fairing hinges to the engine cowling halves and not discovering the error until, having spent half a day looking for the hinges and always coming across heavier hinge of the correct length, the light went on; and cutting away the aft fuselage side skin on the wrong side of a stringer. I still can't believe I did that. Cars fit back in the garage. The outside of the house and the yard are slowly having less of a depressing effect upon local real-estate values. Our twenty-four year-old beater of a Suburban labours out to the old, WWII hangar at Boundary Bay laden with flying kit, tools, parts, plans and an air compressor. And everytime I walk into that hangar with a list of adjustments to make and a couple pf minor snags to tend to, I see this creation poised there on its swept-back gear, looking like it's going transonic just at rest, resplendent-no, glowing- in white-and-red Imron paint with sixtie's-era, RCAF Tutor markings. The big, red spinner points up with attitude as if sniffing the air before leaping into it. And I invariably think-Hell, I'll work on it later. Let's throw the 'chute and helmet into it, push it out and call for the fuel bowser. It's easier than I thought to overlook all the paint runs, smiles and dings, chewed up screw heads and waves in the skin panels. Oh yeah-you're probably wondering why I'm disappointed. Well, I didn't get "The Grin." When the prop stopped and I rolled the canopy back and raised my visor, my expression could best be described as stunned. I was astonished that it actually worked, Everything worked, from the homemade annunciator panel, the WAG of offset for the vertical stab to the dual-throttle system I dreamed up. The full-size B8 stick grips from Wicks and the mil-surplus F-86 throttle grip feel so good I'm reluctant to let go to adjust the DG, altimeter or comm. So, it's been said before-and I've looked forward to saying this-but, keep pounding those rivets! I know at times it seems like it will never be finished, especially towards the end; and air tools seems to be lubricated with blood, sweat and tears. I know it seems to gobble money as fast as Froot Loops disappear into a teenager's mouth. Trust me, you will not be disappointed. It will be worth it. Oh, man, is it worth it! Say, I think I feel a grin comin' on...
Scott in Vancouver
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C-GSEV_1.jpg.jpg | Air | |
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C-GSEV_2.jpg.jpg | Cockpit | |
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C-GSEV_3.jpg.jpg | Ground | |