The Slingsby Type 13 "Petrel"
Slingsby was founded in Scarborough by Frederick Nicholas Slingsby, an RAF pilot in World War I. In 1920 he bought a partnership in a woodworking and furniture factory in Queen Street, Scarborough. In 1930 Slingsby was one of the founders of the Scarborough Gliding Club. After repairing some of the club's gliders, Slingsby's business built its first aircraft, a German designed RRG Falke which flew in 1931. In 1934 the business moved to Kirkbymoorside, 30 miles from Scarborough, operating as Slingsby, Russell & Brown Ltd. As demand for gliders built up, a new factory was needed and built in Welburn, just outside Kirkbymoorside. This opened in July 1939, when Slingsby Sailplanes Ltd was founded. (Wikipedia)The Slingsby Type 13 was brought about by a request from a glider pilot, Frank Charles of the Furness Gliding Club, for a British built equivalent to the Rhönadler, but with a gull wing. Peter Riedel wrote in the Aerokurier magazine that the true children of the Fafnir were the Rönadler and Condor. These two machines were produced in quantity whereas the Fafnir was not. As the Petrel was a development of the Rönadler (in fact with its gull wings one could almost say that it was more similar to the Fafnir than the Rönadler), one can truly state that the spirit of the Fafnir lives on in the Petrel. The wing mounting differs from the Rhönadler,
which are bolted together 'before lowering onto the fuselage,whereas the Petrel wings are mounted onto the fuselage separately.
Frank Charles gave the name Petrel to the new Type 13 and also specified for his version a different canopy of wood construction with a port-hole to the sides, similar, but larger than that used on the German Fafnir. The standard design was to use a cockpit cover similar to the one used by the Gull. Fred Slingsby intended the glider to have a pendulum tailplane, but then decided the pendulum elevator was not desirable and the standard tailplane was made for the third example which went to Ireland.
1938 - the new Petrel arrives, the contest number is '18'
Slingsby Canopy Drawing
Read the 'Sailplane' test report from 1939 above
P.M.Watts 1939 report of one of his trickiest flights
The Prototype had an all flying tailplane and first flew in December 1938, although Frank Charles would not make his first flight until a month later. Flight tests showed that the glider had a remarkably low sinking speed throughout its speed range. Charles reported that "the Petrel stalls at 29 m.p.h. on his A.S.l. and just falls back into a glide like a FALCON does, there being no tendency to drop a wing-tip, hence no tendency to spin He has not, of course, deliberately crossed the controls to make her spin, but has dived her until the needle passed beyond the 80 m.p.h. mark, which is the limit of graduations on the dial." (The Sailplane, March 1939) On one flight Frank Charles reported as having lost only 500 feet on a 7 mile glide from 2,800ft on a straight track.
It was flown by Frank Charles at the British National Championships in July 1939 at which the Petrel crashed and Frank Charles was unfortunately killed. Eye witness reports, including a young Martin Simons witnessed the crash and
no one has ever been able to say to this day what actually caused it. The Petrel was launched by winch in a heavy shower of rain making the winch cable impossible to see. The glider ascended into a low cloud base and disappeared from view, but unaware that the glider had not released, the winch crew cut the power to the cable. The Petrel came into view downwind, still with the cable attached dangling below the glider, but when the glider reached the limit of the cable length it was brought abruptly to a halt and dived into the ground ground from 200 feet killing Frank Charles. The tow release was subsequently found to be serviceable. You can read Martin Simons detailed eyewitness report on his website
This early original factory 3-view was without spoilers, but a note said that "Lift spoilers" would be fitted to the production types".
From the Sailplane magazine, August 1939
Frank Charles was a skilled sailplane pilot, and had taught himself to fly in a KIRBY KITE which he previously owned. He was circling this machine in thermal currents on only the seventh time of his leaving the ground, in January, 1936. Since then he has done a tremendous amount of work for the Furness Gliding Club near which he lived, and the club will feel their loss severely. In order get more time for gliding he gave up his profession, speedway racing, after the 1938 season, though he signed on again in June with his old team at Wembley, and had to leave the Contest (British National Championships) for a day to fulfil an engagement there. Charles's flying was a delight to watch, for he had a genius for handling anything in motion-in fact, we learn that in his his schooldays he shocked the staff by riding a bicycle along the school yard wall. Before achieving fame as a speedway rider he had toured music halls with an accordion, and those present at these Contests remember how well he played the Instrument
This picture shows the interior of the wooden cockpit
Originally eight Petrels were on order from Slingsby to be used throughout the old British Empire, but this was not to be, due to advent of WWII and only two more were finally built.
(The above image links to a large jpg, but you can downlaod an even larger pdf here)
DimensionsWingspan17.3m56ft 11inWing area16.72m²180ft²Aspect ratio17.9Wing sectionsRoot.
Gottingen 652 modified
Mid span.
Gottingen 535
Tip.
Clark YH
Length7.24m23ft 9inWeightsEmpty.
199.5kg438lbFlying.
289.5kg640lbWing loading17.3kg/m²3.54lb/ft²Best glide ratio (est.)1:27
P.M. Watts in the Petrel in 1939
In 1955 a syndicate at Lasham owned BGA418.
The first production Petrel(c/n 348a and registered BGA418) was built in 1939 with a pendulum elevator. This was entered in the 1939 British National Soaring Contest by Slingsby Sailplanes and was flown by Squadron Leader P.M. Watts, the event at which Frank Charles was killed. The Petrel was to place 4th overall, the event being won by a Rhonesperber. As with all other aircraft during WWII, the Petrel was impressed into service for military use and was to be found quietly flying over the North East of England as a practice aerial target for the Royal Observer Corp. It was delivered to its first civil owner, John E. Simpson, in July 1941 who was a teacher at Clayesmore School, Iwerne Minster, Dorset, England for which he paid Slingsby £300 plus £8 1s 5d delivery. It has a tailplane almost identical to that of a Rhönadler.
The glider was originally finished with a high gloss varnished wood., but in 1955 it was painted all over white and would go through several transformations of the cockpit canopy during its life. In the 1980's it was recovered in Ceconite and so it was possible to leave the flying surfaces partially transparent.
It was sold in 2002 to Bob Gaines in the United States where it is currently undergoing a long and detailed renovation after which it will once again have the original varnished wood finish under its new registration of N39UK. Unfortunately Bob Gaines died in 2011, but the project has been taken over by the Western Antique Aeroplane and Automobile Museum in Oregon. As of today (23rd May 2013) the Petrel is still in its trailer at the Museum who say that it will be moving to Wyoming for its restoration. I will update this page with its progress.
Pictures of this glider after the first civil delivery from Slingsby are shown below by kind permission of Colin Simpson. Colin has also provided the history of ownership of this glider, which can be viewed here
Above is the 1955 colour scheme with all over white and a new canopy
Above is the 1980's white colour scheme with translucent areas and yet another canopy
The photo was taken in 1989 at the VGC Rally at Farkashegy airfield.
Below are photos from
Photos of BGA 418
The American restoration by Bob Gaines
Changes to BGA 418 over time
A listing of the history of
BGA 651
The second production Petrel (BGA651 c/n 363) was built in 1939 wich had a standard elevator type tailplane with square tips, a shape entirely different to the first pendulum style . It was finished overall in varnished wood.
In 1947 a small engine was fitted on top of this Petrel fuselage by Wing-Commander K. H. Wallis, later well known for his Wallis autogyros. The engine was a starter for a German Jumo 004 jet engine from WW2 and was a tiny 2 cylinder 270cc 2 stroke only 10” across the twin horizontally opposed cylinders. A wheel from the tailwheel of a Spitfire was added into the skid to aid the launch and was to remain in the glider until 1973.. One evening at Redhill this little engine powered Petrel made ten take-offs and proved itself. Unfortunately this act was scorned by the purist glider pilots at the time, including Ann Welch, although she later became convinced of such methods. The following unclear photos are all that is currently available on this remarkable event. Read more...........
The only poor quality photos of the self launching trial
G-ALPP with its open cockpit canopy
It was based in England until 1954 when it was bought by an Irish syndicate in Dublin and given the registration of EI-101, later to become IGA-101 by the Irish Gliding and Soaring Association.
1980 - Varnished fuselage and Ivory wings
The front window of the production Petrel was able to fold down inwards onto the top of the instrument panel to allow forward visibility in the event of the view through the panel becoming obscured
The 'Irish Petrel' syndicate operated at Baldonnel, an Air Corps field, where launches could be made to 1,500 feet, but following a new concrete runway installation the syndicate were forced to move to Curragh 30 miles away. Fortunately it was now possible to launch to 1,800 feet. The Petrel went on to make an Irish altitude record.
Mike Russell, who was an airline captain for Britannia Airways, had previously been a member of the British syndicate which previously owned the Petrel. In 1973 he noticed in a hanger in Dublin his dream machine, the Petrel, hanging in the rafters of what was the Aer Lingus Museum. Mike purchased the Petrel, borrowed the Petrel trailer from Ron Davidson (BGA418) and brought the Petrel back to the Long Mynd in England where it was again made airworthy.
In 1980 a full restoration was started on the Petrel, but it had to be abandoned by Mike Russell due to other commitments and in 1993 it was bought by its current owner Graham Saw, who completed the restoration during which he converted the square tipped tailplane to a radius tip, the shape of which was influenced by the legendary German designer Hans Jacobs. He was interviewed for the VGC magazine in 2001 and this is what he said about the Petrel.
What is your favorite glider?
To me, a favourite glider cannot be defined by performance, rarity or handling. It is a combination of the feel of the glider sitting in lift, looking past struts, wires or gull wings at beautiful scenery, mountains, valleys, lakes. It can be the privilege of flying someone else's treasured glider. I am biased towards slow, "floaty" gliders. My Petrel requires no physical or intellectual effort from the pilot. You sit in it, like an aerial carriage and watch the world go by, very slowly. It is the ultimate "grin" machine!
Note:
The Canopy on the 'Red Petrel' is hinged on the left, whilst all other versions of this and the others are hinged on the right.
Early photos of BGA 651
Changes to BGA 651 over time
Photos of the 'Red' Petrel
The Petrel when in Ireland was given a red fuselage and all over ivory wings. It retained the self launching wheel in the skid until it returned to England (above) when it was finally removed - photos: Dave Hooper,Alan Pratt
Read these personal memories of flying the Petrel in Ireland, the first by Stan Dunne and the rest by Dave Hooper
Tailplane modifications carried out in 1996
Graham Saw enjoying the charismatic Petrel .
With thanks to:
Colin Simpson - who provided photos of his fathers Petrel
Ronald Davidson - Owner of BGA418 for 30 years
Graham Saw - owner and restorer of the 'Red' Petrel BGA 651
Retroplane - for some of the images
Aerosente Glider Workshop - for early images
Martin Simons - for his endless knowledge
Slingsby was founded in Scarborough by Frederick Nicholas Slingsby, an RAF pilot in World War I. In 1920 he bought a partnership in a woodworking and furniture factory in Queen Street, Scarborough. In 1930 Slingsby was one of the founders of the Scarborough Gliding Club. After repairing some of the club's gliders, Slingsby's business built its first aircraft, a German designed RRG Falke which flew in 1931. In 1934 the business moved to Kirkbymoorside, 30 miles from Scarborough, operating as Slingsby, Russell & Brown Ltd. As demand for gliders built up, a new factory was needed and built in Welburn, just outside Kirkbymoorside. This opened in July 1939, when Slingsby Sailplanes Ltd was founded. (Wikipedia)The Slingsby Type 13 was brought about by a request from a glider pilot, Frank Charles of the Furness Gliding Club, for a British built equivalent to the Rhönadler, but with a gull wing. Peter Riedel wrote in the Aerokurier magazine that the true children of the Fafnir were the Rönadler and Condor. These two machines were produced in quantity whereas the Fafnir was not. As the Petrel was a development of the Rönadler (in fact with its gull wings one could almost say that it was more similar to the Fafnir than the Rönadler), one can truly state that the spirit of the Fafnir lives on in the Petrel. The wing mounting differs from the Rhönadler,
which are bolted together 'before lowering onto the fuselage,whereas the Petrel wings are mounted onto the fuselage separately.
Frank Charles gave the name Petrel to the new Type 13 and also specified for his version a different canopy of wood construction with a port-hole to the sides, similar, but larger than that used on the German Fafnir. The standard design was to use a cockpit cover similar to the one used by the Gull. Fred Slingsby intended the glider to have a pendulum tailplane, but then decided the pendulum elevator was not desirable and the standard tailplane was made for the third example which went to Ireland.
1938 - the new Petrel arrives, the contest number is '18'
Slingsby Canopy Drawing
Read the 'Sailplane' test report from 1939 above
P.M.Watts 1939 report of one of his trickiest flights
The Prototype had an all flying tailplane and first flew in December 1938, although Frank Charles would not make his first flight until a month later. Flight tests showed that the glider had a remarkably low sinking speed throughout its speed range. Charles reported that "the Petrel stalls at 29 m.p.h. on his A.S.l. and just falls back into a glide like a FALCON does, there being no tendency to drop a wing-tip, hence no tendency to spin He has not, of course, deliberately crossed the controls to make her spin, but has dived her until the needle passed beyond the 80 m.p.h. mark, which is the limit of graduations on the dial." (The Sailplane, March 1939) On one flight Frank Charles reported as having lost only 500 feet on a 7 mile glide from 2,800ft on a straight track.
It was flown by Frank Charles at the British National Championships in July 1939 at which the Petrel crashed and Frank Charles was unfortunately killed. Eye witness reports, including a young Martin Simons witnessed the crash and
no one has ever been able to say to this day what actually caused it. The Petrel was launched by winch in a heavy shower of rain making the winch cable impossible to see. The glider ascended into a low cloud base and disappeared from view, but unaware that the glider had not released, the winch crew cut the power to the cable. The Petrel came into view downwind, still with the cable attached dangling below the glider, but when the glider reached the limit of the cable length it was brought abruptly to a halt and dived into the ground ground from 200 feet killing Frank Charles. The tow release was subsequently found to be serviceable. You can read Martin Simons detailed eyewitness report on his website
This early original factory 3-view was without spoilers, but a note said that "Lift spoilers" would be fitted to the production types".
From the Sailplane magazine, August 1939
Frank Charles was a skilled sailplane pilot, and had taught himself to fly in a KIRBY KITE which he previously owned. He was circling this machine in thermal currents on only the seventh time of his leaving the ground, in January, 1936. Since then he has done a tremendous amount of work for the Furness Gliding Club near which he lived, and the club will feel their loss severely. In order get more time for gliding he gave up his profession, speedway racing, after the 1938 season, though he signed on again in June with his old team at Wembley, and had to leave the Contest (British National Championships) for a day to fulfil an engagement there. Charles's flying was a delight to watch, for he had a genius for handling anything in motion-in fact, we learn that in his his schooldays he shocked the staff by riding a bicycle along the school yard wall. Before achieving fame as a speedway rider he had toured music halls with an accordion, and those present at these Contests remember how well he played the Instrument
This picture shows the interior of the wooden cockpit
Originally eight Petrels were on order from Slingsby to be used throughout the old British Empire, but this was not to be, due to advent of WWII and only two more were finally built.
(The above image links to a large jpg, but you can downlaod an even larger pdf here)
DimensionsWingspan17.3m56ft 11inWing area16.72m²180ft²Aspect ratio17.9Wing sectionsRoot.
Gottingen 652 modified
Mid span.
Gottingen 535
Tip.
Clark YH
Length7.24m23ft 9inWeightsEmpty.
199.5kg438lbFlying.
289.5kg640lbWing loading17.3kg/m²3.54lb/ft²Best glide ratio (est.)1:27
P.M. Watts in the Petrel in 1939
In 1955 a syndicate at Lasham owned BGA418.
The first production Petrel(c/n 348a and registered BGA418) was built in 1939 with a pendulum elevator. This was entered in the 1939 British National Soaring Contest by Slingsby Sailplanes and was flown by Squadron Leader P.M. Watts, the event at which Frank Charles was killed. The Petrel was to place 4th overall, the event being won by a Rhonesperber. As with all other aircraft during WWII, the Petrel was impressed into service for military use and was to be found quietly flying over the North East of England as a practice aerial target for the Royal Observer Corp. It was delivered to its first civil owner, John E. Simpson, in July 1941 who was a teacher at Clayesmore School, Iwerne Minster, Dorset, England for which he paid Slingsby £300 plus £8 1s 5d delivery. It has a tailplane almost identical to that of a Rhönadler.
The glider was originally finished with a high gloss varnished wood., but in 1955 it was painted all over white and would go through several transformations of the cockpit canopy during its life. In the 1980's it was recovered in Ceconite and so it was possible to leave the flying surfaces partially transparent.
It was sold in 2002 to Bob Gaines in the United States where it is currently undergoing a long and detailed renovation after which it will once again have the original varnished wood finish under its new registration of N39UK. Unfortunately Bob Gaines died in 2011, but the project has been taken over by the Western Antique Aeroplane and Automobile Museum in Oregon. As of today (23rd May 2013) the Petrel is still in its trailer at the Museum who say that it will be moving to Wyoming for its restoration. I will update this page with its progress.
Pictures of this glider after the first civil delivery from Slingsby are shown below by kind permission of Colin Simpson. Colin has also provided the history of ownership of this glider, which can be viewed here
Above is the 1955 colour scheme with all over white and a new canopy
Above is the 1980's white colour scheme with translucent areas and yet another canopy
The photo was taken in 1989 at the VGC Rally at Farkashegy airfield.
Below are photos from
Photos of BGA 418
The American restoration by Bob Gaines
Changes to BGA 418 over time
A listing of the history of
BGA 651
The second production Petrel (BGA651 c/n 363) was built in 1939 wich had a standard elevator type tailplane with square tips, a shape entirely different to the first pendulum style . It was finished overall in varnished wood.
In 1947 a small engine was fitted on top of this Petrel fuselage by Wing-Commander K. H. Wallis, later well known for his Wallis autogyros. The engine was a starter for a German Jumo 004 jet engine from WW2 and was a tiny 2 cylinder 270cc 2 stroke only 10” across the twin horizontally opposed cylinders. A wheel from the tailwheel of a Spitfire was added into the skid to aid the launch and was to remain in the glider until 1973.. One evening at Redhill this little engine powered Petrel made ten take-offs and proved itself. Unfortunately this act was scorned by the purist glider pilots at the time, including Ann Welch, although she later became convinced of such methods. The following unclear photos are all that is currently available on this remarkable event. Read more...........
The only poor quality photos of the self launching trial
G-ALPP with its open cockpit canopy
It was based in England until 1954 when it was bought by an Irish syndicate in Dublin and given the registration of EI-101, later to become IGA-101 by the Irish Gliding and Soaring Association.
1980 - Varnished fuselage and Ivory wings
The front window of the production Petrel was able to fold down inwards onto the top of the instrument panel to allow forward visibility in the event of the view through the panel becoming obscured
The 'Irish Petrel' syndicate operated at Baldonnel, an Air Corps field, where launches could be made to 1,500 feet, but following a new concrete runway installation the syndicate were forced to move to Curragh 30 miles away. Fortunately it was now possible to launch to 1,800 feet. The Petrel went on to make an Irish altitude record.
Mike Russell, who was an airline captain for Britannia Airways, had previously been a member of the British syndicate which previously owned the Petrel. In 1973 he noticed in a hanger in Dublin his dream machine, the Petrel, hanging in the rafters of what was the Aer Lingus Museum. Mike purchased the Petrel, borrowed the Petrel trailer from Ron Davidson (BGA418) and brought the Petrel back to the Long Mynd in England where it was again made airworthy.
In 1980 a full restoration was started on the Petrel, but it had to be abandoned by Mike Russell due to other commitments and in 1993 it was bought by its current owner Graham Saw, who completed the restoration during which he converted the square tipped tailplane to a radius tip, the shape of which was influenced by the legendary German designer Hans Jacobs. He was interviewed for the VGC magazine in 2001 and this is what he said about the Petrel.
What is your favorite glider?
To me, a favourite glider cannot be defined by performance, rarity or handling. It is a combination of the feel of the glider sitting in lift, looking past struts, wires or gull wings at beautiful scenery, mountains, valleys, lakes. It can be the privilege of flying someone else's treasured glider. I am biased towards slow, "floaty" gliders. My Petrel requires no physical or intellectual effort from the pilot. You sit in it, like an aerial carriage and watch the world go by, very slowly. It is the ultimate "grin" machine!
Note:
The Canopy on the 'Red Petrel' is hinged on the left, whilst all other versions of this and the others are hinged on the right.
Early photos of BGA 651
Changes to BGA 651 over time
Photos of the 'Red' Petrel
The Petrel when in Ireland was given a red fuselage and all over ivory wings. It retained the self launching wheel in the skid until it returned to England (above) when it was finally removed - photos: Dave Hooper,Alan Pratt
Read these personal memories of flying the Petrel in Ireland, the first by Stan Dunne and the rest by Dave Hooper
Tailplane modifications carried out in 1996
Graham Saw enjoying the charismatic Petrel .
With thanks to:
Colin Simpson - who provided photos of his fathers Petrel
Ronald Davidson - Owner of BGA418 for 30 years
Graham Saw - owner and restorer of the 'Red' Petrel BGA 651
Retroplane - for some of the images
Aerosente Glider Workshop - for early images
Martin Simons - for his endless knowledge
The fall of the Petrel
By Martin Simons
One day in July 1939, Brian Wallace, a friend, asked if I would like to go with him and his father to see the gliding competition at a place called Great Hucklow. They had a Morris 8 car and the drive, about fourteen miles, would not take long. The Sheffield Telegraph newspaper said the National Competition had been going on all week. It would end on Sunday. The site was in the Southern Pennines, the so-called Peak District. I was nine years and a few months old. I had never seen a glider other than the little halfpenny models bought in sweetshops and newsagents. I did not know what to expect. Brian and his father didn’t know any more than I did. We would go on Saturday.
When we got to Hucklow village we had to get the car up to Camphill. The narrow road led through a tunnel of gnarled, wind swept trees with a very sharp hairpin bend half way up. Misjudging this turn Mr Wallace had to reverse and take another bite at it. Up steeply again we emerged onto a broad, treeless plateau high above the valley. Marvellous views opened in all directions.
It was misleading to call this an airfield. Later I learned it had once been a cluster of twelve small sheep pastures, each surrounded by dry stone walls of the kind seen everywhere in that region of England. The gliding club members, over several years, had removed the walls by hand, stone by stone, and made a space about half a mile wide and three quarters of a mile long. There were many ridges and bumps where the old walls had been. Heaps of discarded stones were dumped at intervals round the margins of the property. They made convenient but uncomfortable seats for spectators.
More than twenty gliders were in sight, on the ground, a few lining up ready to take off, one or two in the air.
From the moment we caught our first sight of the sailplanes, I was altogether entranced, totally overcome by their beauty. They had superb, streamlined fuselages, shells of thin plywood varnished to a very high gloss with the wood grain showing in fantastic patterns. Many of them had curved wings like giant seagulls. Wooden skins glistening, large areas covered with lightweight fabric, all highly polished, they were translucent against the sky.
I wandered round in a daze, astonished that I could go right up to the lovely, huge bird-like things and touch them. I watched the pilots getting into the cockpits, listened without understanding to their talk. Surely these men were gods soaring above us.
I had never seen or heard of winch launching before, but this too excited me. The glider would be poised ready to take off, the steel cable attached to it running across the ground to the winch far away at the other end of the field. A man would signal with a pair of orange bats the size of tennis rackets. The winch wire would rustle and go taut, the glider bowing a little as if in homage. The signaller then waved the bats overhead, the glider moved forward rapidly, left the ground and climbed steeply like a kite on a string. The wire whistled in the air.
Several hundred feet up, the cable would fall away and the lovely aircraft floated freely, moving gracefully this way and that, light glinting off the fuselage, shining through the wings, coming down after a while smoothly to touch down on the grass. Hearing the musical, flute- or organ-like sounds of the gliders in the air made a very great impression on me.
To my astonishment, sometimes the sailplane after dropping the line would start circling round and round, gaining height until it turned and sailed away, disappearing in the distance. Earlier in the week we were told, one of the gliders had reached the Thames Estuary, a distance of 162 miles. One of the other pilots present had set a height record some months earlier, reaching more than 14,000 feet in a cloud. These men were gods indeed.
The Petrel climbing on the winch launch.
Clouds drifted in and there was a rain shower. Brian and his Dad went back to the car to find a cup of tea and shelter. I followed them reluctantly, but paused on the way to watch one more glider being launched. It climbed steeply as usual, but nearing the highest point of the launch it vanished into the rain cloud. It re-emerged a few moments later flying in the opposite direction. I saw that the winch cable was still attached, hanging down in a great loop. This could not be right!
The cable never came off. The glider flew on to get into position to turn and land, but suddenly it stopped dead in the air as the cable snapped tight. The sailplane pitched over sharply and dived vertically into the ground. There was a shower of dust and shattered bits of wood. From where I stood, perhaps two hundred yards away, the aircraft that had been so beautiful was reduced to fragments. I knew the pilot must be dead. I did not know who he was. I did know he was a mortal man.
I ran to tell my friends as soon as the crash happened and I don’t remember seeing anyone rushing to the wreck. It fell in the open field some little distance away from the launching point where the various crew members and other pilots would have been. I suppose they must have hurried to see if anything could be done, but spectators, especially children, would have been prevented from crowding round.
I told the Wallaces there had been an accident. They did not believe me at first. They had heard no sound of a crash and there had been no disturbance among the tea parties where they were sitting. Gliding is a quiet sport.
Soon they did believe. Brian and I, an hour later, went to the place behind the hangar, half a mile from the crash site, where the wreckage was stacked in a sad heap against a wall, almost hidden as if the gods were ashamed to show it. Perhaps they were afraid ignorant humans would raid it for souvenirs. Someone did warn us not to touch anything. More had survived than I expected. The wings were still recognisable although smashed. Large pieces of torn, still glossy, varnished fabric flapped miserably in the breeze. A bird of great beauty had been shattered! A piece of varnished plywood carried the name, Petrel.
In accordance with tradition, flying continued afterwards. We left for home late in the afternoon.
Years later I read all about the accident. It was the second fatality this gliding club had had since its foundation in 1934. As far as anyone could tell, the winch driver, seeing the glider go into cloud, had shut down the launching engine and expected the cable to drop when the pilot pulled the release. The pilot never did release, presumably thinking that the cable had broken, which did sometimes happen. The winch man was supposed to cut it with an axe but before he could do so it came suddenly taut and the glider was pulled violently into the ground.
The pilot had been Frank Charles, a well know speedway racing driver, and the glider was the prototype of a new design, the Petrel, built by Slingsby in Yorkshire.
Among witnesses to the disaster were John Furlong and Leonard Ottley. They were not gods but they were good engineers. They set to work to design a towing hook for gliders that would release itself if, for any reason, the cable failed to come off or got into a bad position. When developed, the device was called the Ottfur, after the designers. Safety tow releases became compulsory for all gliders afterwards and saved many lives.
Two months later all civilian flying in Britain stopped when the Second World War began.
Only three Petrels were built. The prototype crashed, the other two are still flying in 2011. Later I came to know Camphill extremely well and I always go back to fly there during my visits to England. Maybe I am the only person surviving now who was actually there on that bad day in 1939!
By Martin Simons
One day in July 1939, Brian Wallace, a friend, asked if I would like to go with him and his father to see the gliding competition at a place called Great Hucklow. They had a Morris 8 car and the drive, about fourteen miles, would not take long. The Sheffield Telegraph newspaper said the National Competition had been going on all week. It would end on Sunday. The site was in the Southern Pennines, the so-called Peak District. I was nine years and a few months old. I had never seen a glider other than the little halfpenny models bought in sweetshops and newsagents. I did not know what to expect. Brian and his father didn’t know any more than I did. We would go on Saturday.
When we got to Hucklow village we had to get the car up to Camphill. The narrow road led through a tunnel of gnarled, wind swept trees with a very sharp hairpin bend half way up. Misjudging this turn Mr Wallace had to reverse and take another bite at it. Up steeply again we emerged onto a broad, treeless plateau high above the valley. Marvellous views opened in all directions.
It was misleading to call this an airfield. Later I learned it had once been a cluster of twelve small sheep pastures, each surrounded by dry stone walls of the kind seen everywhere in that region of England. The gliding club members, over several years, had removed the walls by hand, stone by stone, and made a space about half a mile wide and three quarters of a mile long. There were many ridges and bumps where the old walls had been. Heaps of discarded stones were dumped at intervals round the margins of the property. They made convenient but uncomfortable seats for spectators.
More than twenty gliders were in sight, on the ground, a few lining up ready to take off, one or two in the air.
From the moment we caught our first sight of the sailplanes, I was altogether entranced, totally overcome by their beauty. They had superb, streamlined fuselages, shells of thin plywood varnished to a very high gloss with the wood grain showing in fantastic patterns. Many of them had curved wings like giant seagulls. Wooden skins glistening, large areas covered with lightweight fabric, all highly polished, they were translucent against the sky.
I wandered round in a daze, astonished that I could go right up to the lovely, huge bird-like things and touch them. I watched the pilots getting into the cockpits, listened without understanding to their talk. Surely these men were gods soaring above us.
I had never seen or heard of winch launching before, but this too excited me. The glider would be poised ready to take off, the steel cable attached to it running across the ground to the winch far away at the other end of the field. A man would signal with a pair of orange bats the size of tennis rackets. The winch wire would rustle and go taut, the glider bowing a little as if in homage. The signaller then waved the bats overhead, the glider moved forward rapidly, left the ground and climbed steeply like a kite on a string. The wire whistled in the air.
Several hundred feet up, the cable would fall away and the lovely aircraft floated freely, moving gracefully this way and that, light glinting off the fuselage, shining through the wings, coming down after a while smoothly to touch down on the grass. Hearing the musical, flute- or organ-like sounds of the gliders in the air made a very great impression on me.
To my astonishment, sometimes the sailplane after dropping the line would start circling round and round, gaining height until it turned and sailed away, disappearing in the distance. Earlier in the week we were told, one of the gliders had reached the Thames Estuary, a distance of 162 miles. One of the other pilots present had set a height record some months earlier, reaching more than 14,000 feet in a cloud. These men were gods indeed.
The Petrel climbing on the winch launch.
Clouds drifted in and there was a rain shower. Brian and his Dad went back to the car to find a cup of tea and shelter. I followed them reluctantly, but paused on the way to watch one more glider being launched. It climbed steeply as usual, but nearing the highest point of the launch it vanished into the rain cloud. It re-emerged a few moments later flying in the opposite direction. I saw that the winch cable was still attached, hanging down in a great loop. This could not be right!
The cable never came off. The glider flew on to get into position to turn and land, but suddenly it stopped dead in the air as the cable snapped tight. The sailplane pitched over sharply and dived vertically into the ground. There was a shower of dust and shattered bits of wood. From where I stood, perhaps two hundred yards away, the aircraft that had been so beautiful was reduced to fragments. I knew the pilot must be dead. I did not know who he was. I did know he was a mortal man.
I ran to tell my friends as soon as the crash happened and I don’t remember seeing anyone rushing to the wreck. It fell in the open field some little distance away from the launching point where the various crew members and other pilots would have been. I suppose they must have hurried to see if anything could be done, but spectators, especially children, would have been prevented from crowding round.
I told the Wallaces there had been an accident. They did not believe me at first. They had heard no sound of a crash and there had been no disturbance among the tea parties where they were sitting. Gliding is a quiet sport.
Soon they did believe. Brian and I, an hour later, went to the place behind the hangar, half a mile from the crash site, where the wreckage was stacked in a sad heap against a wall, almost hidden as if the gods were ashamed to show it. Perhaps they were afraid ignorant humans would raid it for souvenirs. Someone did warn us not to touch anything. More had survived than I expected. The wings were still recognisable although smashed. Large pieces of torn, still glossy, varnished fabric flapped miserably in the breeze. A bird of great beauty had been shattered! A piece of varnished plywood carried the name, Petrel.
In accordance with tradition, flying continued afterwards. We left for home late in the afternoon.
Years later I read all about the accident. It was the second fatality this gliding club had had since its foundation in 1934. As far as anyone could tell, the winch driver, seeing the glider go into cloud, had shut down the launching engine and expected the cable to drop when the pilot pulled the release. The pilot never did release, presumably thinking that the cable had broken, which did sometimes happen. The winch man was supposed to cut it with an axe but before he could do so it came suddenly taut and the glider was pulled violently into the ground.
The pilot had been Frank Charles, a well know speedway racing driver, and the glider was the prototype of a new design, the Petrel, built by Slingsby in Yorkshire.
Among witnesses to the disaster were John Furlong and Leonard Ottley. They were not gods but they were good engineers. They set to work to design a towing hook for gliders that would release itself if, for any reason, the cable failed to come off or got into a bad position. When developed, the device was called the Ottfur, after the designers. Safety tow releases became compulsory for all gliders afterwards and saved many lives.
Two months later all civilian flying in Britain stopped when the Second World War began.
Only three Petrels were built. The prototype crashed, the other two are still flying in 2011. Later I came to know Camphill extremely well and I always go back to fly there during my visits to England. Maybe I am the only person surviving now who was actually there on that bad day in 1939!