Friday, 7 June 2024

To Russia and Back Again - The Adventures of a Competition Aerobatic Pilot

The Early Days
I was born in 1941 in London, Ontario. My earliest recollection of aircraft is when I was four years old in 1945. The war had just ended and my father took me out to the Victory Aircraft plant at Crumlin

Airport near London, Ontario to see a Lancaster bomber that had just returned from Europe. Victory Aircraft was one of the factories that built Lancaster and Mosquito bombers by the thousands during the war. I remember standing beside the main landing gear wheel and looking up at the tire that was taller than me. Then we walked under the open bomb bay and I looked up with the sense that I was inside a big barn. On the way home we stopped at the Royal Canadian Regiment armories. On display in front was a military truck in German markings towing a captured V-1 flying bomb. It had short stubby wings and a ramjet engine on top of the tail. It emitted a unique buzzing sound in flight leading to its nicknames 'buzz bomb' or 'doodlebug'. If the sound were to quit overhead you had better take cover quickly because 2,000 lb of high explosive were headed your way. From that day on I knew that I wanted to fly someday.

My next recollection is from about grade 4 or 5 when a teacher introduced me to a small illustrated book called "How to Fly". I read it from cover to cover many times until I had practically memorized every page and was sure I knew everything I needed to know be a pilot. Then in the early 1950s, when I was in grade 7 and 8, our principal, who had been a wartime pilot acquired several large 16 mm reels of film of the Battle of Britain. I spent many noon hours with a few friends setting up the projector and running these films over and over again, dreaming of being a Spitfire pilot.

About the same time, my cousin married an Air Force jet pilot named Flying Officer Donald J. Morrison who had just converted from Vampires to the F-86 Sabre jet. I have a picture from about 1950 where I am dressed up in his brand new g-suit, wearing his helmet and oxygen mask, shortly before he left for a posting to RCAF 410 Squadron in North Luffenham, England. One of my most prized possessions (now long gone) was a reel of movie film from his gun camera showing him in a training dogfight with another F-86. I remember running outside at the sound of a jet flying overhead, searching ahead of the sound until I spotted it.

In the RCAF Auxiliary
In April 1957, while still in high school, my dream began to come true. I joined the London RCAF 2420 Auxiliary squadron, not as a pilot but as a radar operator. Myopia eliminated any possibility I might have had to become a fighter pilot, but at least I could be around aircraft.
2420 was an outgrowth of the 420 "City of London" reserve fighter squadron that had operated at Crumlin since 1948. 420 was originally formed in 1941 as a bomber squadron based in Waddington, England. They flew Hampden, Wellington and Halifax bombers over Europe before being relocated to Tunisia in 1943. At the end of fighting in Europe, they were returned to Canada, re-equipped with Lancasters and disbanded when the war ended before they could be deployed to the Pacific theatre. It was one of these Lancasters that I had marveled at in Crumlin. 420 fighter squadron flew F-51 Mustangs from 1948 until it was disbanded in 1956. I remember clearly the sadness I felt on that warm summer day in 1957 watching the six beautifully polished silver Mustangs of 420 Squadron fly away for the last time enroute to their new owner in the USA.
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2420 inherited 420's legacy as the Snowy Owl squadron and operated as an aircraft control and warning squadron. I remained in the squadron for four years until it was disbanded rising to the rank of Sergeant. I was still in high school so was not eligible for a commission until I entered the University of Western Ontario in the fall of 1960. At the time the squadron was disbanded in May 1961 I had been recommended for promotion to Pilot Officer. I had considered continuing service through the ROTP and URTP programs but chose not to since I was not eligible for aircrew.

Shortly after enrolling as a new recruit in the RCAF reserve I attended my first airshow at Crumlin on June 8, 1957. I was anxious for my first up close look at Canada's jets in action. However, I remember very few details of the show because it was marred by a tragedy which wiped out most other memories. A flight of three CF-100 MK5 Canucks took off after refueling and then came by for an in-line low high speed pass down the runway. The first one pulled up into a steep climb followed shortly by number 2, who appeared to pull up quite sharply. As it pulled up I remember seeing what looked like big sheets of cardboard fluttering through the air behind it. As I followed it to a steep, near vertical climb I realized that the wings appeared much shorter than the previous aircraft. Suddenly it dawned on

me that what I had seen were pieces of wing flying off. By this time the aircraft had reached the apex of its climb and was arcing over into a steep dive. I saw a black dot come out of the aircraft and slowly fall to the ground as the aircraft, now obviously in serious trouble headed for the ground off to my left followed shortly by a fireball and cloud of black smoke. Both crew members lost their lives. Pilot, F/O Les Sparrow died in the crash. The navigator F/O C. A. Sheffield had ejected but his parachute failed to open. Apparently, he had mistakenly clipped his oxygen mask to the seat strap, instead his parachute harness and the seat had been pulled back into the opening canopy. The rest of the day was a blur of confusion as the shock of what I had witnessed sank in.

The wreckage of the aircraft was recovered and laid out on the floor of Hangar Number 5 where our squadron was located. The accident investigators worked for months to reconstruct it and determine the cause of the crash. It turned out that the MK5 Canuck had 44 inch wing extensions which reduced its G-load tolerance. This aircraft had taken off from London with a full load of fuel and weighed 31,500 lb, giving it a maximum G limit of only 4.74g. The investigation determined that the pilot had pulled 7.3g on the pull up causing the wing extensions to separate due to the over stress. They hit the tail and broke it off.



RCAF Golden Hawks - 1959

I attended many other airshows that were more enjoyable than my first. I had an 8 mm movie camera and filmed many airshows, both military and civilian and had the opportunity to capture every aircraft in the RCAF inventory of the day in action. Most memorable were those featuring the gleaming Sabre jets of the RCAF Golden Hawks aerobatic team that was formed in 1959 to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of powered flight in Canada and thirty-fifth anniversary of the creation of the RCAF, and the DayGlo Red T-33 of the Red Knight. They instilled in me a longing to learn to fly aerobatics.


My role in 2420 was as a Fighter Control Operator. This meant that I had to track aircraft on a radar screen, determine their direction, speed, altitude, and if possible, identity and plot them on the map on a situation board. This enabled officers to order CF-100 jets scrambled and to vector them to an intercept to identify unknown aircraft. We first trained on simulator equipment at RCAF Stations Crumlin, Clinton and Centralia, Ontario and then began series of weekend and summer postings to a Pine Tree Line radar site at Falconbridge, Ontario near Sudbury. I spent three wonderful summers and many weekends working alongside the regular force personnel of 33 AC&W Squadron at Falconbridge. All this, and getting paid for it too, was a dream come true for a young high school student.

Sgt. Hunt - 1961
I remember the first time I tracked an object at faster than mach 2 at Falconbridge. I couldn't believe how fast the radar blip moved. In just five sweeps of the antenna trace it had moved more that an inch across the face of the screen. Imagine my pleasure on identifying it as the CF-105 Avro Arrow on a test flight out of Downsview. Height finding radar could not give me an accurate altitude because it was flying well above 50,000 feet. Another unusual aircraft I remember came out of Selfridge, Michigan and was identified as an F-89J. It was a Northrop Scorpion fighter and I was surprised to learn that the J meant that it was carrying nuclear armed Genie missiles.

My first aircraft ride came about as a result of being at Falconbridge in the summer of 1958. I had a few days leave and went back to London to visit my family. Before I left, I had inquired into the possibility of flying in an RCAF aircraft. No flight was available from Sudbury so I hitchhiked home. Once there, I called the base about a return flight and was delighted to learn that a C-45 Expediter from the Hamilton auxiliary transport squadron could take me back. I'll never forget the thrill of strapping into the seat behind the pilot, and looking out over the silver wing with the big red, white and blue roundel on it as we taxied out, took off and headed for Sudbury. That trip was the first of many I made by air between London and Sudbury over the next three years, mostly in C-45s and C-47 Dakotas from Toronto and Hamilton auxiliary squadrons. They included some harrowing experiences as we traveled in some pretty vile weather.

I remember one cold, dark winter's night, being strapped into the sling seat on the side wall of a C-47 with our luggage tied down along the centre of the fuselage. It was so bumpy and the air in the cabin so stale that one by one the airsickness bags came out until nearly everyone in the aircraft was ill.

On another occasion a flight of 3 C-45s landed at Sudbury against a strong crosswind. The first aircraft in sequence hit the tail wheel so hard that the cargo door sprung open. We were second in line and the plane descended in wheel landing configuration. Just as we were about to touch down there was a slight vibration and the pilot aborted the landing, overshot and came around again for a second attempt. As we deplaned after the successful landing, we noticed that about four inches of the tips of both propellors were rolled backwards. We had ground both propellors against the concrete runway on the first landing attempt. This explained the vibration we felt. It turned out that there had been some miscommunication in the cockpit. The copilot had been flying and was doing the landing. As he lined up on final approach the crosswind was gusting very badly. The approach didn't feel right and he turned control back to the pilot. Assuming the pilot was going to overshoot and try again, he raised the landing gear; however the pilot had decided to continue the landing. Fortunately for us, the landing had been so smooth that both tips touched gently and simultaneously, doing only minimal damage. The skilled pilot immediately recognized the problem, was able to retain control, abort the landing and go around to land safely.

Learning to Fly
In the spring of 1962 I finally decided to begin flying lessons. There were two places at Crumlin to learn to fly. The London Flying Club offered training in a 15 year old, conventional gear Fleet Canuck at $9 an hour. Across the field was Execaire, a private school run by two ex-airforce pilots, Gord Plyley and Sam Cowley. They offered training in brand new tricycle gear Piper Colt for $11. I decided to spend the extra $2 per hour to learn on the state of the art equipment. In hindsight, given my later flying experiences, I have often wished that I had opted for the Fleet Canuck.

My first flight on Saturday, April 7 was in a Piper Colt with pilot Sam Cowley. I remember him having me line up on the active runway and telling me to apply full power and just keep the aircraft straight. We accelerated quickly (in my opinion at the time) and as we approached the fence at the end of the runway, I began to panic and said "What do I do now?". Sam calmly said "just ease back on the control wheel a bit". I did so and much to my surprise and great relief we rose into the air and over the fence.

I had a four week break between the end of my first year studies at the University of Western Ontario and the beginning of my summer job in the University Computer Centre. I had saved enough money to pay for flying lessons and decided to use the time to get my pilot's licence. At the time, only 35 hours of flying were required for a licence and the government paid a rebate of $100 to each successful student, so the net cost was just over $300.

Since my dad worked at Somerville Industries which then occupied the old Victory Aircraft buildings at Crumlin (now the home of Diamond Aircraft, builder of the Katana two seat trainer), I drove to and from the airport with him. I averaged four hours of flying per day, filling the time between flights with ground school studying. On April 30, after 9 hours and 15 minutes of duel, I flew solo for the first time. I graduated on Tuesday, May 18 with my brand new private pilot's licence.

Subsequent airshows were much more enjoyable than my first. I had an 8 mm movie camera and filmed many airshows, both military and civilian and had the opportunity to capture every aircraft in the RCAF inventory of the day in action. Most memorable were the Golden hawks with their gleaming Sabres and the DayGlo Red T-33 of the Red Knight.

Bill Adams' Stearman - 1962
The first civilian airshow I attended stands out as most influential in my life. It took place in the summer of 1962 at Kitchener-Waterloo, Ontario shortly after I completed my flying training. It featured the Cole Brothers Flying Circus from the USA led by Duane Cole with whom I was to become acquainted years later. His son Roly, brother Marion and Bill Adams were the other performers. I had never seen a biplane before and was mightily impressed by the big red Stearman with Bill Adams name printed upside down on along the side. He put on a breathtaking show like I had never seen before. As he approached a few feet over the runway, belching huge clouds of smoke from the exhaust of the 600 HP radial engine, he did a triple snap roll that left my jaw gaping. "Wow, would I ever love to do that someday." was all I could think. That one event, more than any other, set me on the determined path to learn aerobatics. From 1962 to 1965 I was a poor starving student and could afford little flying, but joined the University of Western Ontario Flying Club and occasionally rented Cessna 172s.

In September 1965 I went to work for Honeywell Controls in Scarborough on their new Series 200 line of computers and could once again afford to fly more often. I took a refresher course with Gord Craig of Toronto Airways at Buttonville Airport and on October 14 went up for my first tail dragger flight in a Bellanca Citabria with instructor Paul Ramsperger. This was my first experience with aerobatics and I loved it.

My First Airplane
Eventually, I decided that in order to fly as much as I wanted to I needed my own aircraft. As total ownership was financially out of the question I decided to look for partners. I read all that I could about aircraft partnerships and soon came up with a plan. I placed an advertisement in the Toronto Airways lounge. As a result, I met Earl Roberts, Don Quinlog and WWII Mosquito pilot Gord Hodgkinson. We soon became friends and agreed to buy an aircraft in partnership. Local aircraft salesman, Jim Waters, had just received a newly overhauled 1962 Cessna Skyhawk and it was available for $10,000. It had a zero time engine, new leather upholstery and a beautiful new maroon and white paint job. After a few signatures at the bank, on December 16, 1966 I took off on my first solo flight in CF-NNV.

Cessna Skyhark CF-NNV at Centralia 1968
For the next four years I flew NNV everywhere putting over 200 hours on it. I flew it on business to Boston, landing at Hanscom Field. While there, I recall being quite nervous when shortly after takeoff I heard the tower clear a pair of fighter jets for takeoff behind me. A few seconds later they went blazing by me one on each side. I flew into Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome to see Cole Palen's WWI flying show. It was interesting landing uphill on a short grass field with a 15 degree dogleg at the far end. On the way home, I experienced my first carburetor icing when my engine quit at 7,500 feet, fortunately right over an airstrip. Full carb heat quickly restored power and the flight continued normally. I took a load of air cadets to visit the USAF Museum at Wright-Patterson Airport in Dayton Ohio.

I had another nerve shattering experience in the Fall of 1971. A colleague of mine at work had a Cessna 206 and organized a group to go moose hunting in the fall near Earlton, Ontario. Six of us and a belly pod full of equipment departed from the general aviation tie down area adjacent to Air Canada's large black hangar on the east side of Toronto International Airport. Ted flew and I was copilot. We flew at 7,500 feet and arrived over the lake where we were to hunt near dusk. Someone suggested that we scout the lake by air to look for signs of moose. Ted throttled back, put the prop in fine pitch and demonstrated the steep descent capabilities of his aircraft. We had no sooner leveled off at 500 feet over the lake and began looking around when there was a thunderous roar and the sky above us went dark. Suddenly from behind, a giant B52 bomber passed no more than 500 feet over our heads. We had descended directly through its path mere seconds earlier! Thoroughly rattled, we terminated our scouting and we proceeded directly to our destination airstrip at Elk Lake. We recounted our experience to the local operator who told us that, yes, he had a cabin on that lake and that the USAF frequently used it for low level bombing practice. Their route was not marked on any of our charts. Our flying adventure didn't end there. A week later, after shooting two moose, we returned to the GA area of Toronto airport, tied down the plane and were unloading our rifles and gear when we were suddenly surrounded by cars with flashing lights and military police with automatic weapons. They were most interested in why six grimy, unshaven men, dressed in camouflage and fully armed were there. A few minutes of tense explanation and we were ordered to gather our things as quickly as possible and promptly escorted off the field. Next day we found out why. It seemed that Soviet Premier Kosegin was paying a visit to Toronto and was scheduled to arrive at the Air Canada hangar next to us within twenty minutes of our arrival.

Joining the Experimental Aircraft Association
On April 20, 1969 the Experimental Aircraft Association of Canada (EAAC) sponsored the first aerobatic contest ever held in Canada at Peterborough, Ontario and I flew in to watch. At the time, the only Canadian aircraft in which it was legal to fly aerobatics were surplus military trainers like the Dehavilland Chipmunk or North American Harvard or the primary trainer Bellanca Citabria. Although US registered aircraft like the Pitts Special could come to Canada and fly in our airshows, Canadians could not do so because Canadian homebuilt aircraft were not approved for aerobatics. As a result this contest was limited to those three aircraft types with Doug Murray, Paul Ramsperger flying the Citabria, silver haired Sally Wagner in a matching silver flight suit flying a silver Chipmunk, and Harold Wannamaker flying a Harvard. An American was allowed to demonstrate aerobatics in his Pitts Special but Gerry Younger of Guelph could only watch because his Pitts was not approved by the Canadian Department of Transport (DOT) for aerobatics.

EAAC was determined to get popular homebuilt aerobatic aircraft approved in Canada. To this end, they enlisted several test pilots with National Aeronautical Establishment of the Canadian National Research Council as an EAA Technical Committee to satisfy Department of Transport requirements for aerobatic approval for homebuilt designs. Under the leadership of Ted Slack, they undertook the daunting challenge of providing a complete stress analysis of the Pitts Special design required by the DOT in order to obtain the necessary approval. Deryck Hickox loaned his Pitts Special CF-XTT to them for flight testing and it became the first one to be approved for aerobatics in Canada. Gerry Younger's Pitts was approved soon after followed by several others. Things were beginning to look up for aerobatic competition.

On July 5, 1970 flew into Orillia Airport adjacent to Lake St. John Ontario for a combined EAAC fly-in and aerobatic contest. A call went out for volunteers to assist the judges at the contest, and always eager to watch flying as well as to learn more, I stepped forward. I was given the job of calling out each figure to the judge before it was flown and writing down the score he gave along with any other comments. I learned that aerobatic competition was similar to figure skating in that each competitor flew several predetermined programs and each figure in the program was judged out of 10. It was there that I met EAAC President Herb Cunningham who was to be of great help to me in the future.

Through Herb Cunningham I learned that EAAC Chapter 189 operated a private flying club at Markham Airport with about fifteen different aircraft that members could rent at reasonable rates. I joined EAAC and decided to become a member of the Chapter 189 Flying Club. In April 1972 I put my share in NNV up for sale. It sold quickly and I soon was flying a variety of club aircraft. Cessna 182, Cardinal, Comanche 250, Cherokee 180, American Yankee, and of course, Bellanca Citabria, were added to my logbook and I completed my night rating. I became a Director of Chapter 189 and also of EAAC.

Beginning Aerobatics
As I learned more about aerobatic competition I got hooked on judging and flew to assist at EAAC sponsored competitions at Goderich, Centralia and Camp Borden. I realized that if I were to be a good judge, I needed to learn to fly aerobatics, and I determined to find an aircraft and instructor to teach me.

Under the umbrella of EAAC, Toronto area aerobatic pilots had banded together to form Chapter 4 of the International Aerobatic Club (IAC), a division of EAA. Doug Murray was its president. I remember approaching him at a meeting and telling him that I was interested in aerobatics and was considering joining. I remember him sniffing down his nose at me and saying "Well we don't want anyone in IAC that isn't serious about aerobatics." That did it. I joined immediately and from that moment on was determined to show him how serious I was.

In addition to XTT there were two other Pitts Special S-1Cs based at Buttonville Airport. I used to be amused to see Bob Arend taxi up to the gas pumps in CF-AZJ and climb out of the cockpit wearing shorts. Bob also owned a Harvard MK II, that was painted in an identical paint scheme, red with blue and white stripes and an RCAF style roundel, that he flew in airshows. The third Pitts CF-UWQ was owned in partnership by Doug Murray, Cal Martin, Dr. Josh Rogers and Frank Jenkinson. The three Pitts were housed in adjacent T-hangers on the south east side of the field.

It turned out that Frank Jenkinson was also an EAAC Chapter 189 member and I approached him about teaching me aerobatics in the club Citabria. On February 17 1973 I went up with Frank in Citabria CF-FQC (Fu Que Charlie) and began an intensive program of instruction. FQC was 7ECA model Citabria with short wings, no flaps and a 115 hp engine with no inverted capability. It was a considerable challenge to master even basic aerobatics in it. I had to learn what rudders were for, how to manage energy and use inertia to sustain a flight path inverted without power. It took many hours of practice and all the muscle power I could manage to master a decent slow roll. As frustrating as it was at times, I knew that if I could fly the Citabria well I would have a solid foundation for moving up to a more advanced aircraft. Aerobatics can also do unusual things to a person's body. After one practice session, I found that my behind was very sore. Once at home, I looked at myself in the mirror and discovered an inch wide black bruise all the way across my backside. The Citabria seat cushion had rolled forward and I had flown the whole session sitting on the bare metal seat frame. After that I made sure the seat cushion and parachute were properly positioned before flight.

May 18-20 1973 was the Victoria Day holiday and EAAC had organized an aerobatic practice weekend in preparation for the upcoming contest season. Pilots and judges came from all around Ontario and Quebec and nearby US states to practice, get critiqued by qualified judges and share information. We got a lot of help from neighbouring IAC chapters. Many well known US aerobatic performers came up and enjoyed participating in Canadian contests and we learned a lot from them. This was my first opportunity to practice what I had learned and I flew the Sportsman sequence about a dozen times before a panel of judges. The critiquing was invaluable and by the end of the weekend I felt confident enough to compete in my first contest. An important side note was that Don Plumb of Windsor, Ontario, heir to the Beaver Oil fortune, arrived in CF-DIP (his brand new two seat Pitts S-2A), the first one in Canada. We were all over it asking many question. Little did I know that I would soon be flying it.

June 30 to July 1 the annual Canadian Open Aerobatic Contest was held at Goderich Sky Harbour Airport. Not only did I enter in my first Sportsman contest there, I also took on the job of Contest Director. What a mistake! I had no idea how much work it would be or how much time I really needed to prepare for my flights. With a lot of help from others I managed to pull it off, and although I didn't win any awards, I didn't embarrass myself either finishing 10th out of 14.
I also became serious about judging figuring that if I was going to win, I needed to know all I could about what the judges were looking for to obtain high scores. I attended an IAC judging school and qualified as a regional judge. When I went to contests I judged or assisted any category in which I was not flying.

Another contest followed at Orillia on July 14 and on July 29 I set out for my first really big contest at Fond-du-Lac, Wisconsin. Fondy was the largest contest held by the IAC. It came the week following the annual EAA fly-in at Oshkosh drawing the best pilots in North America to compete in four categories from Sportsman through Unlimited. I was both awestruck and a bit intimidated, but pitched right in as a judges assistant in categories other than the Sportsman in which I was competing. Thirty-six people were competing in Sportsman, flying a variety of aircraft from J3 Cubs to Pitts Specials. I don't remember anything particular about my flights but at least I didn't win the Grogan Belt which was awarded to the lowest scoring first time competitor.

First Pitts Special
Fond-du-Lac must have made me a little crazy because I came home determined to move up to Intermediate as soon as I could get into a suitable aircraft. In the meantime Don Plumb had let Herb Cunningham know that he had just purchased a Curtiss P-40 Warhawk and was moving into collecting warbirds. DIP was for sale and he thought Herb might know someone who would be interested in it. It was available for a steal at only $20,000. Once again, with few brains and less money I jumped in.

Pitts S-2A CF-DIP - 1973
On August 15 I went up with Don for my first Pitts flight. After some familiarization with Don, I asked if I could try a loop. Lowering the nose slightly to gain the 140 mph entry speed I hauled back on the stick like I was used to doing in the Citabria and around we went. A nice float over the top and pull hard back again and we were at level flight. "Wow" said Don "You put six Gs on it!" He then showed me a nice gentle 4G loop and I began to realize just what a great airplane this was.

Back home I figured that if ten people came up with $200 each we could make a down payment and finance the rest. With help from Herb, I found nine takers, went to the bank and by August 17 we were owners of the only 'nine hole Pitts' in the world! For tax advantages we leased the Pitts through the EAA Chapter 189 flying club. We based it at Buttonville in a T-hangar adjacent to the three single seat Pitts.

After about five hours of dual instruction in 'Dippy' from Paul Ramsperger and Frank Jenkinson I soloed on September 8. I immediately began working on the Intermediate compulsory sequence and designing a free program so I could fly in the Canadian National Championships at Centralia later that month. With less than ten hours total time in the Pitts I entered my first Intermediate competition on September 28 and 29, taking home the second place trophy.
Gerry Younger was a bit of a loner preferring to do his own thing flying out of Kitchener-Waterloo airport over becoming part of IAC Chapter 4. He had started aerobatics earlier and was always just slightly ahead of the rest of us. In 1973 he became the first Canadian to enter the Unlimited category at an IAC contest in the US. He became popular flying airshows in his Pitts with 'Canada' painted on the top wing, and his show commentator had anointed him 'The King of Canadian Aerobatics' somewhat to our chagrin. Gerry aspired to be the first Canadian to participate in the 2004 World Aerobatic Championships. We had similar ambitions.

Climbing the Aerobatic Ladder
In order to participate in the 2004 World Aerobatic Championships, pilots had to be sponsored by Canada's FAA sanctioned national aeronautical club, at that time the Royal Canadian Flying Clubs Association (RCFCA). A team could be sanctioned if it was put forward by a Canadian aerobatic association. Since IAC was a division of the American based EAA, it did not qualify. So it was that in late 1973 steps were taken to form such an association and on May 1, 1974 Aerobatics Canada came into being. Doug Murray was its first president and I became one of its founding directors. Also included on the board was Michael Sifton, owner of Buttonville Airport. Deryck Hickox, Bob Arend and Frank and his partners decided to upgrade their three Pitts S-1Cs to S-1S standard so they would be competitive at the Unlimited level. Deryck built three sets of symmetrical, four aileron wings for them and the original engines were replaced with 180 hp Lycomings.

The World Aerobatic Championships of 1974 were canceled when Poland, the host country, could not complete the necessary arrangements. The next WAC was scheduled to be held in 1976 at Kiev, USSR so the focus of Aerobatics Canada now turned to 1976. Since I was already working towards flying Advanced in 1974, moving up Unlimited in 1975 seemed within reach and going to Kiev the next year a distinct possibility. The Pitts S-2A was only marginally competitive at the Unlimited level but at least it could complete the programs so I decided it was worth a shot.
Thus it was that I began 1974 flying Intermediate while at the same time practicing Advanced figures. I took some more duel with Frank, getting him to teach me negative G maneuvering which could be particularly punishing physically. To prevent bruising of my upper legs and thighs under extended negative G I had a leather pad made to put on my lap underneath the seat belts.

At the Victoria Day practice weekend in Centralia I practiced both categories and received some valuable critique. Once again Doug Murray presented me with a challenge. "You're not a real aerobatic pilot" he said "until you have done an outside loop from the top". So it was that at the end of a practice session, I climbed up to 3,000 feet, slowed down to minimum speed for entry. I dropped the nose earthward and began easing the stick forward. Stick forces seem extraordinarily heavy and were increasing rapidly, and as I passed through the vertical I had both hands on the stick pushing forward with all my might. The pressure in my head was intense but I persisted, leveling inverted at nearly 200 mph and beginning to push upward. Gradually Dippy came around and I eased off through the last quarter loop allowing it to float back to level upright with a huge sigh of relief. It was only then that I noticed that after my initial climb to altitude I had neglected to re-trim the aircraft and still had full nose up trim! Needless to say, I said nothing to those on the ground choosing to relish in the knowledge that I had done it. Take that Doug!

I moved up to Advanced for the next contest at Lindsay, Ontario June 7-8 finishing second as the top Canadian in the category. At the Canadian Open at Goderich July 6-7, I don't remember the result of that contest so I assume that I didn't win any hardware.

My first Unlimited competition was the Quebec Open Championship in St. Jean September 1-2. Gerry Younger joined me at Buttonville for the formation flight to St. Jeans. I was flying on his left wing at about 5,000 feet as we passed over the Ivy Lea Bridge over the St. Lawrence River. I remarked that it might be fun to fly a loop around the bridge which had quite a high, wide centre span. Suddenly Gerry broke to the right and said "Let's go!". I dropped to line astern and followed him down. When he looked back and saw that I was still with him, he leveled off and said "Dammit, called my bluff." I finished fourth, not bad for my first attempt at Unlimited. The final contest of the season was the Canadian Nationals at Stratford, Ontario Sept. 14 and 15 where I finished in third place.

1974 was the year that the Carling-Okeefe brewery sponsored the Carling Red Cap formation aerobatic team. Its leader was former British Rothman Aerobatic Team leader Manx Kelly and included Debbie Gary, Mike O'Hanlon and Stefan Karwowski. Their four Pitts S-2As were based at Buttonville and they flew in airshows across eastern Canada all season. This was very advantageous to the rest of us as it brought visibility to our sport and we were able to benefit from their experience. Of course, having the only other S-2A around, I quickly corralled Manx and asked him to fly with me. On October 16 we went up in Dippy and spent over an hour going through lomcevaks and flat spins.

On December 30 I had an unusual experience. A friend of mine was a Boeing 747 pilot with Air Canada. He arranged access that evening for the two of us to use their 747 simulator at Toronto International Airport. It was the newest version simulator from CAE in Montreal and featured a full visual display, a first at the time. We spent two and a half hours flying it in various situations. I was surprised to find that the perspective and visual cues in that huge airplane were not much different from those in a small aircraft on a small runway. Except for the plethora of controls, gauges and switches, it felt much like flying a Cessna. The most interesting was one which we tried just to see if it was possible. We configured the aircraft to be as light as possible. Shortly after takeoff, he killed three of the four engines leaving only the left outboard engine at full power. In this configuration the aircraft would still climb but just barely. I remember holding the aircraft level until the airspeed increased by 5 knots then easing the nose up slightly to trade that 5 knots for a few feet of altitude and repeating this again and again until we reached sufficient altitude to be able to turn back to the airport and land. It is not something you would ever try in a real aircraft but it was an interesting exercise and proved that at least theoretically, under the right conditions, it was possible.

1975 began with a great trip. Frank Jenkinson and I loaded our two sons into Cessna 182 CF-PEY and headed for Florida for a week of sun and instruction from US Aerobatic Team member "Fly for fun" Bill Thomas. After leaving Buttonville in sub-zero weather, it was a treat to remove another layer of clothes at each gas stop as the temperature rose. Our wives and two daughters followed by car. Bill took us back to the basics with a series of coordination maneuvers and then led us through such advanced figures as rolling turns, flat spins, reversing spins, lomcevaks and torque rolls.

Then disaster hit on March 9. I was taking Peter, a Boeing 747 captain, up for his first open cockpit biplane ride in DIP. It was a cold clear winter day with the temperature around 15 degrees Fahrenheit. The only snag was a faulty intercom so Peter and I had worked out a system of hand signals for communications As I was climbing out northbound and a crosswind turn to the right, I noticed my oil pressure begin to drop at the same time as Peter was signaling to take control of the aircraft. I declined his request, throttled back some and continued turning onto downwind positioning for a possible emergency landing. The oil pressure came back up briefly and then began to fluctuate wildly. All of a sudden there was a big bang followed by total silence with the prop dead still.

At this point Peter stopped shaking the stick for control. I was now at about 1,000 feet AGL on mid right hand downwind. In a Pitts without power, you take a look almost straight down to the left, right and straight ahead and choose one of those spots for landing because that is a far as you are going to go. To my left was a nice long field into wind that looked ideal until I saw the High tension wires cutting through the middle. My only other option was a small rectangular field to the right surrounded by trees on all sides. I judged that if I approached from the south east corner the diagonal should be just long enough to land, as long as I didn't screw anything up. Peter's head had now disappeared out of the front cockpit as he assumed the crash position. I declare an emergency, set up an approach with the speed nailed on 80 mph and sideslip to adjust height and to see ahead. I could see the trees coming up ahead of me and aimed for the lowest one. I figured that if I flew through the top few small branches I could make a touchdown point just inside the fence. I recall the strong urge to ease back on the stick and float over and I had to consciously resist it and focus on keeping the precise airspeed needed for final approach. Over the fence, visibility ahead nil, I eased the stick full back and let it settle in. It doesn't matter if I drop it on now as we are inches over the ground. Thud, bounce, bounce, skippety-hop; a typical Pitts touchdown. Keep it straight with just enough brake to slow us down without locking the wheels. I don't know how far ahead the fence is but as soon as I can safely do so, intentionally groundloop. Now, full left rudder and around we go; 180 degrees and stop, still upright! I unbuckle and climb out, check my passenger who is emerging from the front hole. He is OK and his first words are "Jay, I'd fly with you anywhere." Funny, that was the last time I saw him for over twenty years.

I noticed that the tail was pointing exactly at the far corner of the field about 100 feet away. I opened the cowl and immediately saw the problem. There was a hole the size of my fist blown through the back cylinder where a connecting rod exited. About this time I became aware of someone approaching me from behind and heard "Gee Jay, It's nice of you to drop in for a visit but you didn't have to go to all this trouble." I turned around to see Marc, a colleague from my office, on whose farm I had just landed!

A short while later help arrived from the airport and we were driven back to Buttonville. I reported in and someone handed me a coffee. As I was standing there telling people what happened I became aware of a strange clattering noise. I looked down and realized it was my cup and saucer banging together because my hands were shaking so badly.

Damage to the aircraft was not too bad. The engine was badly damage and there was some damage to the lower left wing from the groundloop but otherwise DIP was undamaged. We were all right and insurance will put it back together. But my flying season and hope for Kiev were in ruins.

Pitts S-1S CF-UWQ
Every cloud has a silver lining. A few weeks later, Frank revealed that his partners in UWQ had decided they wanted to dissolve the group and UWQ was going up for sale. He was building a new, highly modified Pitts for himself. The wheels started turning once again. I figured that by re-mortgaging my house I could come up with enough money to buy a half interest in it. Fortunately, Herb Leistner, one of the partners in DIP, joined me in purchasing it. Herb was not a competitor but loved to fly it recreationally. On June 1 I took off in UWQ for my first single seater flight. The S-1S handled much the same as the S-2A. It was much lighter and everything happened faster, especially during takeoff and landing. It felt more like you were wearing the aircraft than sitting in it and that it was an extension of your own limbs. You only had to think what you wanted and the airplane would follow your thoughts.

I practiced almost daily throughout June and July, flying out of Buttonville up to a practice area to the northeast and back again. One evening I returned from a particularly good practice and approached the field from the west at 1,500 feet planning to cross overhead and join a mid downwind for runway 03. The winds were light and as I was about to turn across the field Tower called and said "UWQ can you make the button of runway 15 from your present position?" I looked down to my left and saw that I was about ¼ mile back from the end of the crossing runway. To reach it I would have to perform a near vertical descent. I considered the odds, replied "Roger" and was given a "Cleared to land." Bringing the power back to idle, I pegged the airspeed at 90 and entered a knife-edge sideslip to the left keeping the button of runway 15, now almost immediately below me, in sight. Down I came and kicked the little plane straight just as the numbers came up beneath me. Plop and I was on the ground in perfect three-point position. After a very short landing roll I made the first turnoff about 500 feet from where I just touched down. I am sure the tower controller called the runway change just to see if I could do it.
I was soon ready to try my first Unlimited competition in my new mount. I flew down to Medina Ohio for a regional IAC contest July 11-12. I thought everything was going well until I landed after my compulsory flight. The contest director and several other highly experienced pilots took me aside and reamed me out for being dangerous. It seemed that I flew the last portion of my sequence near the 330 foot lower limit of the competition zone with obviously less speed than was safe. Get-through-it-itis had taken over and I continued when I should have broken off and climbed back up to resume the sequence at a safe altitude. It was a lesson well learned and a mistake never again repeated.

On July 25 I departed Buttonville for a return to Fond-du-Lac to fly with the big boys at the IAC competition. Clearing customs at Port Huron, I headed southwest for my next fuel stop at Valparaiso Airport, adjacent to Gary, Indiana at the bottom of Lake Michigan. Ceiling was unlimited but visibility was only about three miles in haze. About an hour into the flight, my alternator light began glowing bright green instead of its usual dull hue. Something was wrong. In a few minutes it went out and I realized that I had a total electrical failure, no radios, lights or electric directional gyro. From here on it was to be map and compass flying, dead reckoning over unfamiliar farmland that all looked alike. It was late afternoon when I landed at Valparaiso. No-one was available to look at my electrical problem. There was not enough daylight left for me to fly west around the Chicago Terminal area and arrive at Fond-du-Lac before dark. My only hope was to follow the lakeshore past Chicago, but I had no radio. I discussed my options with the local fixed base operator and he said "Well, the floor of the Chicago Terminal Area is 3,000 feet and the top of the Meigs control zone by the lake is the same. If you fly up the lakeshore at exactly 3,000 feet, plus or minus zero, you probably don't have to talk to anyone." That was what I elected to do, motoring up the shoreline past the Chicago skyscrapers, listening to every tick of the engine, looking at ball diamonds and plaza parking lots as possible emergency landing areas. All went smoothly and as I left Chicago behind and could see Milwaukee ahead, I had to refold my map. A gust of air blew it up against my windscreen and I was temporarily blind. I pulled the map down just in time to see a big blue circle with a white star in the middle surrounded by aluminum and rivet motoring by in front of me. It was a US Air force C97 transport that had just taken off from an airfield several miles west of me. I was well clear of its control zone and at my position the transport should have been well above me, but here it was at exactly 3,000 feet. It was clear sailing from there on and I landed at Fond-du-Lac at approximately dark minus 30 minutes.

Upon inspecting UWQ's electrical system, I discovered that a control resister in the alternator circuit had failed and, since I had no battery to hold the charge, the full current had gone through the system until a wire burned through. This was quickly repaired and a circuit breaker installed to prevent a repeat failure so I had a radio once more.

Fond-du-Lac was to be a real dry run for the worlds. Being only my second competition in the S-1S it was asking a lot to expect to do well and I didn't. I zeroed my unknown program and finished 14th out of 14 competitors. Oh well, chalk it up to experience.

To Russia with Love

The final contest of the year was the Canadian Nationals at which pilots were chosen for the 1976 World Aerobatic Championships. It took place September 20-21 at Picton, Ontario. This contest was organized by Marty Tate, then a student at the Royal Military College at Kingston. Marty was an Aerobatics Canada member who was learning to fly aerobatics in his Citabria. Sometime during the weekend, I went up with him and taught him how to do a proper slow roll. This event was to have significance years later. I don’t remember much else about the contest except that I finished third behind Gerry Younger also qualifying to fly at Kiev in 1976. Gerry appeared to be somewhat resentful of the fact that he would not be the sole Canadian entrant.

OK. So I’m in. Now what? How am I going to find the money to travel to the USSR? How am I going to get my airplane across the Atlantic? Can I really pull this off? Gerry, as always, was going his own way, raising funds and arranging his transportation. He approached veteran bush pilot Max Ward, President of charter airline Wardair and got them to agree to fly him and his airplane to England and back. What was I to do?

Aerobatics Canada organized efforts in support of the effort. Many members volunteered to man fundraising booths at aviation events and organize a publicity campaign to solicit donations. One volunteer was of particular help to me personally. Vanessa Hammond had been an aerobatic student of mine and she took on the role as my personal manager taking care of many administrative details freeing up my time up for practice. She organized interviews with the press and radio, wrote to various organizations and individuals seeking support, arranged for passports and visas and was our liaison with RCFCA and the Russian Embassy.

I remember being in a booth at the COPA annual dinner when a young couple came up and started asking questions about our quest. As I was explaining what I would be doing in the competition I noticed that the girl kept staring at me. Thinking that she was attracted to me I smiled and chatted, my ego inflating like a helium filled balloon. They gave us a kind donation and as they walked away I heard her tell her boyfriend "That's funny, he looks quite normal." Psssss.

Transportation overseas was a major problem. I approached DND for transportation to Germany in one of their Hercules aircraft. They said they would love to help but all their flights were committed to troop movements. However, General Ken Thorneycroft replied that once I was there, they would be pleased to have me stay at one of the Canadian Air Force bases to practice prior to going to the USSR. A small but helpful step which I gratefully accepted. I approached Air Canada who said sorry but they couldn't help. In desperation I went to the Soviet Embassy in Ottawa and asked if there was any way they could help me get there. They replied "Da, Canadianski no problem. We will take you in one of our Ilyushin transports." Problem solved, or so I thought.

Shortly afterward, I was asked to appear for an interview on the CBC Radio morning show. I went back to Ottawa and up to the CBC studio in the Chateau Laurier hotel. During the discussion I mentioned that although I had been turned down by both the military and Air Canada, the Soviets were going to take me in one of their aircraft. The journalist remarked on how shameful it was that Canadians treat their sports representatives so shabbily that they had to seek help from foreign countries. Within a day or two I received a phone call from the office of the President of Air Canada saying that they had recently put a new 747 Combi aircraft in service and that it had an 18 foot wide cargo door that could accommodate my Pitts and that, If I still wished, they would happily fly me from Toronto International airport to Frankfurt Germany and back. I thanked them sincerely and said that I would be pleased to accept with gratitude. I was beginning to wonder how to tell the Russians when I received a call from the Soviet embassy. "So sorry Canadianski, the cargo hold in our aircraft is too small for your plane. We cannot take it, but we can still take you or your support people if you wish. I thanked them and said that yes, I would be pleased if they could take one ground support person for us. At last I had the transportation I needed.

Although it didn't seem so at the time, another stroke of good fortune soon came my way. Since 1972, I had worked as a computer analyst for Xerox Data Systems near the airport. In April they announced that they were pulling out of the computer business and that we were all to be laid off effective May 1. Xerox was a very employee friendly company and offered us generous severance packages. Mine amounted to six months pay. Wow, what a windfall! That meant that I could go into full time paid practice and still have time to seek new employment upon my return! It doesn't get better than that!

From May 9 until July 5 I woke up early every morning, flew from Buttonville to a private strip at Greenbank near Port Perry and flew three to four practice flights a day. Whenever possible I had a pilot or judge come out to critique my flights. The only incident to mar the period was one time when I spun out of the top of a vertical maneuver and recovered far too close to the ground for comfort.

Monday, July 12, 1976 was the big day of departure for Germany. I flew to the big black Air Canada maintenance hangar at Toronto International airport to prepare to load UWQ into the 747 Combi. Combi means that the aircraft is configured half for passengers and half for freight. The front half is normal passenger configuration and near the rear of the plane is an 18 foot wide door to the cargo compartment. The Pitts could have been maneuvered into the hold fully assembled but for safety, we decided to remove the wings and stow them separately. Before we began an Air Canada photographer appeared to record the event. He took a picture of UWQ sitting beneath the tail of the 747 and said "I didn't even know she was pregnant".
With the help of Frank Jenkinson, Dick Frost and several others, we took the wings off and wrapped them in bubble wrap for protection. Since I would have to reassemble the aircraft by myself with the few tools I could carry with me, we had to carefully mark all the details of the rigging so it would go back together in exactly the same configuration. By the end of the day, UWQ was safely secured in the cargo hold and I was on board to begin the journey to Frankfurt. Upon arrival, I cleared customs, helped unload the aircraft into a hangar and went straight to a hotel for sleep and to overcome jet lag.

Reassembly the next day went smoothly, thanks to help from Air Canada mechanics. On Thursday July 15, I took off from Frankfurt for the one hour flight to CFB Lahr. Flying down the Rhine River at 1,500 feet, every so often I would see shadows zip by below. I realized that they were fighters from various NATO countries cruising down the Rhine at about 500 feet. Their camouflage paint schemes made them look like sharks beneath the water. Lahr was home to a Canadian army brigade and was an arrival and departure point for Canadian forces personnel overseas. After being welcomed to Lahr I was directed to the Fliegerhof, a hotel for itinerant service personnel, that would be my home during the practice period. I did my first practice in Germany on Friday. Thankfully UWQ performed exactly as expected. The rigging was perfect. As I landed and was taxiing in I was startled by section after section of F-4 Phantoms marked with German crosses and British roundels flying low over my head. They had heard of my presence on the radio, orbited outside the control zone and once I was on the ground came in for
a close look.

Later that day, I received an invitation to come up to CFB Baden-Sollingen and practice there since fighter activity was shut down for the weekend. I jumped at the opportunity to spend time on an operational CF-104 Starfighter base. After a short 30 minute flight north I was directed to the hangar of 441 'Black Cougar' Squadron where I met Major Ian 'Struts' Struthers who was to be my host for the weekend. At the time, Struts was a CF-104 pilot with 441 squadron. He had received a Queen's commendation for having successfully ridden two Starfighters down to safe emergency landings instead of ejecting. One was known affectionately as "Triple Pig" by the pilots because its number was 666 and it was a hangar queen, frequently out of service due to snags. During a formation takeoff, Ian heard a bang and aborted the takeoff. A tire had blown and the 104 veered off the side of the runway, missing the arrester cable and careening to a stop in the woods. Both Ian and his navigator emerged unscathed and the squadron was forever relieved of Triple Pig.

Friday evening we went to the Officers' Mess and I met many of the 441 and 439 squadron pilots. 441 adopted my aircraft and placed a squadron crest on the fuselage for good luck.
Saturday and Sunday were blisteringly hot days with the temperature rising into the mid 30s Celsius. My oil temperature rose quickly so I had to keep my practice flights to fifteen minutes each. Saturday evening Ian and his wife took me to dinner at a gasthaus in Gengenbach, a lovely walled town where it seemed that every window had a flower box festooned with blooms. After a wonderful meal of jaegerschnitzel, spaetzel and weiss wein it was back to Baden and more practice on Sunday. Early Monday morning, I returned to Lahr. Gerry had arrived in England and joined me at Lahr on Tuesday.

The next morning we set off for Straubing near the Czech border where we were to rendezvous with the British, German, Swiss, Australian, New Zealand and American teams. Heading east across the Schwartzwald the ceiling began to drop. As the forest rose to meet us we decided we had better find a spot to land. I checked the map and located a small grass strip at Kircheim. As we entered the circuit I switched the radio to their local frequency just in time to hear "Achtung, zwei Pittzen". We landed and were warmly greeted by members of the local gliding club. They took us into a hangar where numerous gliders were hung from the ceiling where we could check the weather. It turned out that Kircheim was in a valley that frequently held low clouds. Just a few kilometers away the sky opened up over a flat plateau and the weather was clear from there on so off we went again for an uneventful one hour hop to Straubing.

The other teams had already arrived. The British team was led by renowned aerobatic pilot Neil Williams and included James Black. The US team consisted of Leo Loudenslager, Clint McHenry, Henry Haigh, Bill Thomas, Bob Davis and Betty Everest. West Germany's star pilot was Manfred Strossenreuther and Switzerland was represented by Eric Mueller and Michel Brandt.

Neil Williams
One memory I have involves my long time idol Neil Williams. At the time he flew the only Pitts in England and didn't have the advantage we had of sharing the experience of others. While I was talking to him one day, I looked over his aircraft doing the usual tire-kicking. Around at the tail I plucked at a brace wire and received a high pitched twang instead of the expected thunk. I pointed this out to Neil and explained that we had learned not to tighten the wires until they were in tension because it would set up a standing wave vibration that would eventually lead to a failure. He thanked me saying that he had experienced several brace wire failures and never knew what was causing them.

We were directed to a local hotel for the night as we were to depart for Czechoslovakia early next day. In the morning, as we were all getting into our aircraft a pair of CF-104s came screaming low and over our heads. One more pass and a couple of wing wags and they were gone. I had prearranged for Ian to come by to send us on our way.

Our flight now numbered about thirty aircraft. Flight plans had to be filed 72 hours in advance in order to obtain approval to enter communist territory. The German team manager led the formation in a four seat Mooney followed by the German team and the rest of us organized into formations by team. Our first stop was to be Bratislava about two hours away. The country below was rolling farmland and the weather was good VFR. I was monitoring the leader's radio frequency when all of a sudden I heard "Achtung MIGs!" I looked nervously around and in a few seconds, a pair of Czech MIG 21s zoomed past on either side of our formation, gear and flaps down, to look us over. Fortunately they were just curious and after a couple of more passes left us alone. We stopped for fuel and lunch at Bratislava, then headed off for Kosice where we were to spend the night. The weather was warm and very hazy so we climbed up high into the cooler air. All you could see were the craggy ridges and deep valleys of the Carpathian mountains far below. The visibility was so poor that I formated on the Mooney and used his wings as an artificial horizon. I listened intently to every sound my engine made knowing that if anything went wrong my only option was going down into those forbidding looking mountains. Everything went smoothly for the rest of the flight and we were taken into town and lodged in a downtown hotel for the night. Bratislava looked like it hadn't changed since the war. The buildings were old and grimy with paint peeling all over. The cars, busses and streetcars were old and rusted.

Over Lvov Airport
Friday morning, we set off for our first stop inside the Soviet Union, Lvov in the Ukraine. We were to be met there and escorted the rest of the way to Kiev. As we approached the airport our leader called in as required. The immediate reply was "What are you doing in Soviet airspace. Leave immediately or we shoot you down!" A few tense moments elapsed as lead suggested that perhaps the controller might check with his superiors and confirm that we were in fact on an approved flight plan. By this time we had arrived over the airport. Pandemonium took off as we began orbiting over the field, some turning left, others right. Lvov was a huge airport with long paved runways. Arrayed between them were row upon row of military aircraft, fighters, bombers, transports and helicopters. Finally the controller returned and said "Cleared to land". Our leader replied "But sir, we are thirty aircraft" to which he said "Roger, cleared to land".
Massive confusion reigned over the airport for the next several minutes. Aircraft entered final approach from both directions, picking a plane to follow. Every once in a while a pilot spotted an opening on the runway and dropped down to land. At any one time at least three aircraft were on the active runway. I landed, cleared the active and was directed to shut down immediately. I climbed out and began watching other aircraft. The sky was hazy and I feared that an accident could happen at any moment. Thankfully, everyone arrived safely. We were held for a long time at centre field and were not allowed to go to the terminal. Officials came out and checked our documents and someone brought us food and water and we waited for the next step in the process. We watched Russian fighters of various types take off and land with regularity. To take care of nature we were directed to a nearby building. It was all brick and inside was a brick bench with outhouse style holes in it, literally the only real brick shithouse I have ever seen. I did what I had to do and upon reaching for paper discovered that it was a roll of teletype paper with weather sequences printed on both sides! Even then the Russians took recycling seriously.
Antonov AN-2 Escort
Eventually our escort aircraft arrived, huge Antonov AN-2 biplanes painted green with big red stars on the sides. We organized into flights with an 'Ant' leading each one. I was flying in formation to the left of one with Gerry to the right. Our first stop was Rovno about half way to Kiev. The Ant went in first, I followed with Gerry spaced out behind. As the AN-2 touched down he immediately disappeared. The runway had a sand surface and the sand had been kicked up momentarily obscuring the field. Luckily, enough settled for me to see the runway and land safely.

After a great lunch of beet borscht, cabbage rolls and perogies we were ready to go again. I took off behind the Ant and as we climbed out moved up to position off his left wing. Without warning I was suddenly flipped over onto left knife edge position about 200 feet off the ground, caught by the huge biplane's wake turbulence. I quickly recovered and took up position just on the crest of the vortex where I could stay and actually reduce power by about five percent allowing the Ant to tow me along. We arrived at Chaika Airfield, Kiev just under two hours later in late afternoon. We were introduced to Vasiliev who was to be our guide, interpreter and, we suspected, watchdog. He was very pleasant and easy going but obviously had been instructed on what we were or were not to be allowed to do.

Chaika Aerodrome - Kiev USSR
After a bone-jarring 45 minute ride in a vintage bus that seemingly had no springs we arrived at the Hotel Ukraina in downtown Kiev. It was to be our home for the next two weeks and was the finest hotel in town except one reserved strictly for Intourist travelers. Gerry and I shared a room on the second floor which was guarded by a Russian matron posted at the top of the stairs. Russian customs took some getting used to. We retired for the night and as naive Canadians were wont to do, left our room door unlocked. I was awakened during the night becoming aware of a shadowy presence in our room. It was the matron who picked up our key off the table, went out and locked us into our room. Somewhat panicky, I wondered how we would escape if there were a hotel fire. About six AM I heard the door unlock. The matron came in, placed the key back on the table and left. Needless to say, we never left our room unlocked again.

Kiev is an historic old city with many architecturally fine buildings. Like the other communist cities we had seen, much of its infrastructure is in decay. The streets though wide are rough and broken. The people are very friendly and extremely proud of their city and Ukrainian heritage. Every morning on the way to the airport we would see dozens of Ukrainian women in their babushkas sweeping the streets with handmade brooms of twigs. When they find out we are from Canada, they can't do enough for us.

Some things that happened seemed designed to unnerve us psychologically, especially considering that they tended to happen just before a flight. In the middle of one night we were awakened by the telephone ringing. Thinking it might be a call from Canada, I answered. A woman's voice on the other end spoke only Russian. I kept saying "hello" in the hope that someone would understand and reply in English. This went on for what seemed several minutes until the other party hung up. I had great difficulty falling back to sleep after that wondering who had called and had there been an emergency at home.

Opening Parade
All our meals were provided at the hotel so we went down to breakfast before facing another spine crushing ride back to the airport. It was not the typical North American style breakfast one might expect. We were served a plate of rice topped with pieces of pork (I think) battered and deep fried. We soon learned that this was to be our standard meal fare, morning, noon and evening. The only variety was the kind of meat that was used. We quickly dubbed it 'meat lumps and rice'.

The first three days were practice days with the actual competition set to begin on Tuesday. Each competitor was allowed two 20 minute practice flights. My first practice was Saturday afternoon. I used it primarily to familiarize myself with the competition zone markings and surrounding landmarks and to get used to the visual presentation in each direction of flight. I flew one compulsory program. The following two days were long and tedious. I spent much time hand flying my sequences over an imaginary 'box' on the ground to mentally prepare for the actual flights. Sunday was the formal opening of the competition with bands, an Olympic style entrance parade of participating teams, interminable speeches and a spectacular airshow. Practice flights resumed on Monday and I used my final practice to fly my free program.
We were up early Tuesday morning for the first contest briefing and drawing for the order of flight. Gerry was to fly ahead of me in 12th position while I drew 37th position. World contests tend to consist a lot of 'hurry up and wait'. Weather delays and organizational problems slowed things down and the compulsory flights did not begin until Wednesday. It took two days to complete all sixty-eight flights. The results showed obvious bias on the part of Communist block judges who tended to score as a group giving preference to their home teams. The Americans were outraged believing that their pilots had not been judged fairly. Gerry and I were, not unexpectedly, well down in the pack at 50th and 55th place.

The second flight was the unknown program, the most challenging of the contest. This is made up by each country choosing one figure. The jury then arranges them into a sequence which is given to the pilots. They must study it carefully, devise a strategy for flying it and then perform it the next day without practice. The unknowns began late Thursday and since I drew position number 5 I would fly that day, Gerry at 34 would fly Friday. The unknown proved to be my best flight of the contest and I finished in 34th place. Gerry also flew well and finished 40th.

The third flight was the free program. Each pilot designs his own free program. Its total score value cannot exceed a maximum total and it has to comply with rules regarding the figures that must be included. Because the pilot designs it to take maximum advantage of his skills and aircraft capabilities, the free program is his best chance to score well. Gerry drew 3rd position and I held 51st which meant that I wouldn't fly until late on Sunday, August 1. I started off really well, feeling that I was flying the best that I had yet. Everything was going smoothly, my position in the box was good and then it happened. On the 20th figure, a pull up to a vertical ¼ roll I must have blacked out momentarily. I was disoriented and knew only that I was at full power and could see only sky. I had no idea of my airspeed or attitude. Finally, looking over my shoulder I saw green and realized 'I'm vertical and I have to roll'. But it was too late. I had no choice but to abort the figure, take a zero score and break penalty and reposition to complete the sequence. That single brain fart dropped me to 51st place behind Gerry who finished 46th. Our final standings combining all three flights left Gerry in 44th place and I in 51st overall.

The final team standings were USSR first, Czechoslovakia second, Britain third and USA a disappointing fourth. In order to be considered a team, a country needed at least three competitors so Canada was not included in team standings. Neil Williams of Britain was the highest standing western competitor in fourth place.

During rest days, the Soviets had arranged for some 'cultural' activities. One of these was a visit to the Karl Marx Chocolate factory. Another miserable bus ride led us into the closed compound of a factory that looked straight out of the great depression. A vintage truck rumbled by and the steam driven machinery looked like it came out of the beginning of the century. We were bundled up an outside staircase that was more like a fire escape into a lovely paneled boardroom. Each place was set with dinnerware including a small teacup. We were served generous portions of famous Kiev Cake and a hostess came around with a teapot and filled our cups, not with tea but with Russian cognac. I sipped at the cognac slowly and eventually the cup was empty so I felt that I had done my duty. Not so! The hostess quickly came by and filled it again in spite of my protests that I had had enough. The second time, I turned my cup upside down on the saucer hoping that she would get the point. Undeterred, she turned it upright and filled it once more. At the end of what seemed an interminable time while the president of the factory droned on about how the Karl Marx factory produced enough chocolate annually to provide two kilograms to every man, woman and child in the Soviet Union we were herded back onto the bus thoroughly sozzled and never did get to see how the chocolate was made.

Concurrent with WAC, the Russian soccer team was competing at the Olympics in Montreal. The wives of several team players hosted a cocktail party in one of their homes for some of us visiting pilots. Having been given the address, I ventured out alone to attend. The first challenge was hailing a cab. Each cab has a light in the windshield, green for available and red for occupied. The Russian way to flag down a cab is to hold out your hand, palm down and wave in an up and down motion. I tried this several times and watched vacant cabs go sailing by ignoring me. Then I noticed that locals were flagging down cabs with red lights. Aha! I tried it and the first cab stopped. It was already occupied by two passengers. I showed the driver the address. He said "Nyet" and drove off. The next cab to stop also had two passengers. He said "Da" and I got in. Off we went across Kiev. He let out one passenger and soon picked up another, He dropped them both off at different spots and I was soon alone in the cab. I was beginning to get concerned when he pulled into a gas station and filled his tank. It had started to rain so the driver went to the trunk of the car took out wiper blades and attached them to the wiper arms. Apparently theft of scarce rubber items was common there. Finally off we went, picked up two more passengers, reached my destination and I paid him the amount on the meter. Then it dawned on me what had just happened. The first fare starts the meter and all the money that shows on it goes to the state. Any subsequent passengers pay their share directly to the driver and he pockets it for himself. Free enterprise at work under Communism.

Once in the party, I was welcomed like a celebrity. The fellow who had invited me came up and handed me a shot glass of amber coloured vodka. It turns out that the most common Russian vodka differed from what we are used to. They didn't use charcoal filtering to remove impurities. Instead they were in the habit of putting a hot pepper in each bottle to absorb them thus purifying the liquid. My friend said "Drink Tovarich, you are my friend", downed his glass and looked at me waiting. It would have been impolite not to follow suit so down it went. My friend watched me with interest. For a few seconds nothing happened, then I felt a burning sensation at the back of my mouth. It moved progressively into my throat and down to my stomach. When my friend decided that my face had turned a suitable shade of red he smiled, took a cucumber sliced lengthwise, sprinkled salt on it and said "Eat". I did so and gradually the burning abated from top to bottom. As I breathed a sigh of relief, Ivan was back with another glass saying "Drink Tovarich". It seems the Russians have three drinking traditions. First, if offered a drink, you must down it immediately in one gulp. Next, if your glass is empty it must be immediately refilled. Finally, any liquid left in your glass is said to represent the tears of your future unhappiness. This may explain their high rate of alcoholism.

One of the nicest things that happened to me was being invited to lunch by a contest worker. He took me to a small cottage on the Dnieper River where he had an upstairs flat, his equivalent to a summer cottage at home. There we dined on fresh tomatoes from his little garden, homemade sausage, black bread and Kvas, a weakly alcoholic beverage made from rye bread.

Lunch wasn't always so pleasant. Since all our provided meals were at the hotel, if we wanted lunch we had to endure that teeth shattering bus ride to get to it. As a result, most days we skipped lunch. I had seen that there was a restaurant at the airport where the officials ate. One day being really hungry and since one of us was flying that afternoon, Gerry and I decided to eat there, knowing we would have to pay for the meal. Upon entering and sitting at a table, it seemed that we were creating quite a stir. Several waiters came up, tried to talk to us gesturing towards the door. Being typical Canadians with disdain for officialty, we remained unmoved. Finally someone located Vasiliev and he came over. We explained why we were there and said that we would happily pay for a meal. Eventually, he sorted things out and we had our lunch. Shortly after that, Vasiliev was replaced by another guide. We always wondered what had happened to him and if we had been the cause of his sudden disappearance.

The closing banquet was an evening to remember. Russian fine dining tradition arranged us standing on either side of long tables. No chairs were provided. We feasted on the most amazing spread of gourmet food. I remember baskets filled with half hard boiled eggs topped with mountains of beluga caviar, more than I had ever seen in my life. Delicacies such as deep fried sturgeon and of course more Kiev cake were served, along with the inevitable Russian cognac and champagne. It was a fabulous evening in spite of the fact that a mini-war broke out between teams aiming champagne corks at one another, all in good fun of course.





Yak 50 - USSR
I had lots of time during the nine days of the contest to study other competitors' airplanes. It had become obvious to me that the days of Pitts dominance in unlimited competition were coming to an end. Several new monoplanes were introduced for the first time in Kiev. Russia had the Yak 50, Czechoslovakia the Zlin 50 and France arrived with the new CAP 20L. I examined each one carefully looking for features
Zlin 50 - Czechoslovakia
that might give them an edge. Raw power of course was one. The Zlin and CAP had American built 260 hp Lycoming engines fitted with a three bladed Hoffman composite propellors. The Yak had a Vedeneyev M14 radial engine of 360 hp. All were considerably lighter than previous versions giving them a substantially higher power to weight ratio. Cleaned up airframes reduced drag to a minimum. Innovative features such as full span ailerons that had fatter leading edge than the adjoining surfaces, servo tabs or counterweights
CAP 20L - France
to lighten stick forces and larger rudders caught my attention. The low wing configuration seemed to show better on vertical lines and European judges were giving consistently higher scores to well flown monoplanes. It was obvious to me that this was the way of the future and it planted the idea in my mind of trying to design a new airplane using what I had learned.

Thursday, August 5, we formed up to go home. This time we decided to travel with Neil Williams and the British team. Unlike the loose gaggle we had been on the way in, Neil organized a well structured formation, breaking us into small flights and coordinating everything with hand signals in case of radio failure. Again we were escorted back through Rovno, where we had another great Ukrainian lunch, back to Lvov. Enroute I spotted a section of MIGs in a camouflaged dispersal area adjacent to a farm field. Our overnight stop was to be in Krakow, Poland. As we crossed the border the scenery changed abruptly to feudal style strip fields dotted with stalked bundles of grain. We stayed downtown at the modern Hotel Orbis, owned by the Holiday Inn chain. When we went to the restaurant for dinner we were seated at a table. Soon a waiter came by and directed us to move to a different table which we did. No sooner had we sat down than another person came and pointed to a third table. This time we refused to move. The waiters gathered together and after some heated discussion, they pointed out one person who came over and waited on us. It seems that being paid whether they worked or not, no-one wanted to be the person who actually had to serve us. Oh the joys of socialism!

On the ramp - Kracow Poland
The next morning I was awakened at the crack of dawn by a strange clicking noise outside our window. I looked out to see an old farmer on a decrepit homebuilt wagon towed by an ancient, swaybacked horse, trotting along the wide thoroughfare with a load of hay. We rose, had a good breakfast and headed for the airport for the early departure called by Neil. After a two hour flight we taxied to the main terminal at the Vienna, Austria airport. On entering I was greeted by a large Air Canada sign and began to feel almost home again. After almost two weeks of 'meat lumps and rice' for breakfast I had an insatiable craving for, of all things, corn flakes. Sure enough, the restaurant had them so I dove in. Refreshed, we continued on to Straubing. The Brits with Gerry in tow headed for Merrie Olde England while I struck out on my own for Frankfurt with an overnight stop at Egelsbach. Disassembly and the flight back home were uneventful and on August 15 UWQ was safely back home at Buttonville.

Back to Reality
The first event scheduled upon our return was the Canadian Open Aerobatic Championships at Sudbury, Ontario, August 20-22. Thanks to sponsor support, this contest offered $4,000 in prizes attracting many well known competitors from the US. An airshow, featuring the Canadian Forces Snowbirds aerobatic team in addition to many competitors was scheduled for Saturday and Sunday in conjunction with the contest. At the end of the practice day, in order to attract attention to the airshow, the organizers organized a mass fly past of competitors over the City of Sudbury. I was taken up for my first helicopter ride in a Bell 206 to plan a route for the fly past.
Bill Reeve, a budding film producer, later to become a well known IMAX film maker, was at the contest making a film about Canadian aerobatics with the working title "Wings Over Tail". One outstanding scene in the film shows a lineup of thirty Pitts Specials and other competition aircraft s-turning in a long, snaking line down the taxi way for takeoff. We formed into a loose gaggle and proceeded to beat up the city. Lots of noise and smoke got us the desired publicity for the weekend. The contest and airshow was a great success although the Americans went home with all the prize money and trophies.

Bill Reeve had filmed both Gerry and I at the contest for his film. Back at Buttonville, he wanted some additional footage for the film including some from the pilot's perspective. He wanted to mount a large 16 mm Bolex movie camera on a Pitts for this purpose. I arranged to borrow Pitts S-2A CF-AMQ that was formerly flown by the Carling Aerobatic Team for the purpose. Frank Jenkinson built a solid platform for it that could be bolted onto the cabanes supporting the upper wing in front of the pilot. The camera could be mounted facing forward, to the side, or back towards me so we could film from three different perspectives. A remote switch was installed in the cockpit that I could use to activate it in the air. Cal Martin would also take Bill up in his Cessna Skylane for external camera views. From October 2 until October 16 we flew a number of sorties north of Markham where I performed tail slides, flat spins, torque rolls and lomcevaks for the film. One day, we flew up to a small grass strip at Elmira, in the heart of Ontario's Mennonite community. A memorable sequence in the film shows me with the smoke on, performing a roll on takeoff, past a Mennonite farmer with his horse and plow looking up in wonderment. The final film, titled "Vertical Roll" appeared for several years as a fill-in short on the newly launched Canadian pay television channel.

The summer's adventures at an end and my severance pay from Xerox all but depleted, it was time to find a new job. At Xerox, I had been encouraged to take courses in sales and marketing, being told that sales experience was a prerequisite for advancement beyond my current realm of geekdom. For that reason, I jumped at the chance to become a sales representative with Data General, a manufacturer of midrange computers. Early in 1977, I was loaned to the Ottawa office to assist in a major sales initiative. It was so successful that they offered me a permanent transfer to Ottawa. It was a difficult decision to leave all my flying friends behind and venture into new territory. However, the opportunity was good and my wife and I felt that Ottawa would offer a better environment for our two young children to grow up in. In March, I relocated to the Nation's Capital, located suitable accommodations and in May my family followed. UWQ stayed behind in Buttonville with my partner Herb Leistner.

The next question was, how to continue my aerobatics in Ottawa. I made the rounds of local airports and found that aerobatics was almost nonexistent. I did some flying in a Cessna Aerobat at Carp and a Citabria at Rockcliffe.

On October 30, 1977 I had a nerve-wracking experience. Through the local EAA chapter I met Lionel Robidoux who had just completed rebuilding a Citabria. Since I had a lot of Citabria experience he asked me to test fly it for him. I went out to Smith Falls airport and took it up for its initial flight. I approached it cautiously, step by step, as any test pilot would. I was doing speed tests over the airport, increasing in increments of five miles per hour to check for signs of aileron flutter. At about 100 mph there was a sudden bang and a strong wind entered the cockpit. I looked up and realized that the overhead skylight had evacuated the aircraft. I looked back at the tail and couldn't see any damage. The aircraft seemed to handle all right so I set up for an immediate landing. Not knowing how much extra drag the opening was causing, I kept my speed on approach well above normal and flew right down to inches over the runway before I cut power. It was like I had thrown out an anchor because the plane immediately touched down and slowed to a full stop. It turned out that the skylight had not been fully secured with screws and the vacuum created over the fuselage had literally sucked it off the airplane.

Anxious to get back into aerobatics again, I placed a classified ad in the local newspaper seeking to meet fellow aerobatic enthusiasts. To my surprise I quickly had a number of responses and after an initial meeting we decided to form an Ottawa chapter of Aerobatics Canada. I became the first president of Aerobatics Canada Chapter 5 to be based at Rockcliffe.

Pitts S-2A CG-VHI - 1978
Our next challenge was to find some suitable aerobatic aircraft. One of our new members had a Citabria for basic aerobatics. I wanted another Pitts S-2A in which to teach advanced aerobatics. I have always been fortunate to find partners to share the passion and cost of flying. This time, a young civil servant named Michel Lahaie joined with me to seek out and purchase a two place Pitts. I was acquainted with an airshow pilot from the US named Jim Parker. At the time he was working in Montreal but flew airshows and taught aerobatics out of Sugarbush Vermont in the summer and Florida in winter. He had just purchased a new Pitts and had placed his old S-2A N388N up for sale. Michel and I met him at St. Lazare airport near Montreal. We both flew the airplane and decided to buy it. N388N had an interesting history. Jim had just taken delivery of it in 1974 from the Pitts factory and was in the process of demonstrating his previous Pitts S-1S to another experienced Pitts pilot. Both aircraft went up together and somehow they got their wires crossed and ended up landing from opposite ends of the same runway, meeting in the middle, fortunately at relatively low speed so no injuries ensued. As a result, N388N went back to the factory for a complete rebuild. I don't recall what happened to the other airplane.

At about the same time, Don Maher, who had expressed interest in acquiring a Pitts, soon concluded a deal to purchase UWQ. On October 30, I ferried it to Carp and delivered it to him. Dr. Mac McGladdery also wanted to get into competitive aerobatics. He was a large man and could not fit into a Pitts cockpit. He happened to be friends with Gord Price in Toronto who had a Steen Skybolt for sale. The Skybolt was a Pitts on steroids and ideally suited for Mac. Soon he and his partner Don Picklyk added another airplane to our growing local collection. Although I had gained a fair amount of experience teaching aerobatics at Buttonville and Markham. There was no special category for aerobatic instructors in Canada and since I didn't have a regular instructor's rating, my flights were done as demonstration flights to other members of EAAC Chapter 189 Flying Club. Since I wanted to be able to teach aerobatics legally, early in 1978, I began an intense program to obtain my commercial licence completing my flight test on April 16. On April 15, Michel and I went to St. Lazare and picked up our new Pitts S-2A now registered in Canada as CG-VHI and flew it to its new home in Lionel's hangar at Smith Falls. Aerobatics Canada Chapter 5 now had a Citabria, Pitts S-2A, Pitts S-1S and Steen Skybolt in its stable.

Throughout the spring of 1978 I flew VHI locally at Smith Falls checking out both Michel and Don to fly solo and beginning to work on Advanced competition sequences. The S-2A was not really competitive at the Unlimited level so I opted to drop back into the Advanced category. On May 18 Michel and I led a three plane formation consisting of VHI, Don Maher in UWQ and Mac McGladdery and Don Picklyk in Skybolt CG-SGS to Centralia for Aerobatics Canada's annual practice weekend. The flight proceeded smoothly until we reached Orangeville, just west of Toronto. There we encountered a front of large black clouds. Tucking underneath, things ahead looked ominous and black so we decided turn back and land at King City. We completed a 180 degree turn and dropped to a lower altitude while I began to determine a heading for King. I looked north to the our left to see three lights in formation heading towards us. As they got closer I could see a dark line joining them and realized that it was an airliner on final approach to Toronto International Airport and discovered that we were about three miles north of the button of the active north/south runway. I led the formation into a steep descent until we were well below the approach glide path and corrected our heading north to clear the zone and head for King City. My radio had been on the 122.8 air-to-air frequency to keep in touch with the formation so I did not attempt to call Toronto Centre. By and by I heard a voice calling "formation of aircraft north of Toronto Airport". I replied explaining our situation. They gave me a heading for King City and said to call them when I was on the ground. When we were safely on the ground at King I called the tower and identified myself. The reply came back "Jay Hunt, of all people you should know better." It turned out to be a controller who I had known at Buttonville, the same one who cleared me to the vertical descent and landing some years earlier. He let me off with a tongue lashing and warning not to ever repeat the stunt.

Canada did not send anyone to the 1978 World Aerobatic Championships in Czechoslovakia.
I flew in the Canadian Open Aerobatic Championships at Centralia on the July 1 weekend and took first place in Advanced. I flew Advanced again at the Canadian National Championships at St. Lazare August 26-7 but don't remember the result. At the beginning of August I took part in the Canadian Skydiving Championships, flying practice sequences between competitor jumps. I experienced another nail biter when I was invited to fly right seat in a Beechcraft 18 carrying eleven jumpers up for a formation freefall from 11,000 feet. The Winchester strip is quite short with a fence and road at the far end. The day was hot and we were heavily loaded. The aircraft took a long time to lift off and was slow to get out of ground effect. The fence was rushing towards us and at the last moment the pilot raised the landing gear barely clearing the fence. Whew! The descent after dropping the jumpers was almost as hairy as he throttled back and put us into a 3G spiral descent which had us back on the ground in less than three minutes. Needless to say, that was the last time I flew with this particular pilot.

In 1979 I flew four contests in the Advanced category, The Quebec Open, June 16-17 at St. Lazare, Quebec, the Michigan Open at Owasso July 7-8, the Canadian Open, June 30- July 1 at Centralia where I took first place and the Canadian National Championships which I also won. The rest of the time went primarily on competition practice, aerobatic instruction and working up an airshow routine which I performed at the Smith Falls Airshow September 8-9 and at the Gatineau, Quebec Airshow September 29.

The World Aerobatic Championships in the USA
The 1980 World Aerobatic Championships had been awarded to the USA and were scheduled to be held at Oshkosh, Wisconsin, August 17-30. Canada decided to take advantage of this and sent a full team of competitors along with a strong ground support contingent. Four pilots qualified at the Canadian National Championships at Centralia August 25-6, Frank Jenkinson flying his new turbocharged FJ Special, Bill Kennedy, Gord Price and Gerry Younger. Roger Hadfield, father of future Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield was chosen as team manager. Since my Pitts S-2A was not competitive at the world level, I did not try for a pilot's position on the World team, electing instead to assume the responsibilities as Chief Delegate.

At the 1979 Aerobatics Canada Annual General Meeting in the fall, I was elected President taking over from Gerry Younger. Because of the effort required to organize Canada's participation in the World Championships, I did not compete during 1980. I kept my judging skills current by critiquing team pilots and judging the Canadian Open at Centralia. I also began teaching ground school for the Ottawa Air Cadets 51 Squadron flying scholarship program. On May 10 I took my class to Arnprior Airport and gave them all familiarization flights in the Pitts. One flight in particular is memorable. I had just taken off with one of my best students and as we were climbing up I asked him if he'd like to do a roll. He said a quick "No" and I felt the stick lock up tight. In the calmest voice I could muster I said "Uh would you mind giving me back control of the aircraft?". "Oh, Sorry." he said and took his hands off the stick.

Through a contact Gord Price had made, Canada was able to acquire a top notch trainer for our pilots. Ladislav Bezak was the winner of the first World Aerobatic Championships in 1960. He had been a test pilot for the Zlin Aircraft company in Czechoslovakia and is best known as creator of the lomcevak tumbling maneuver. Several years later he escaped in his Zlin aircraft with his wife and four small children crammed into the two seat cockpit. Gord, an Air Canada pilot, had met him in Germany and arranged to sponsor him into Canada. Ladi immediately went to work bringing our four pilots up to world standards. Regular practices were held at Centralia and the Canadian Open there June 28-30 was a trial run for the Worlds attracting a number of competitors from south of the border.

In early August the whole team departed for an intensive training camp at New Richmond, Minnesota, about an hour from Oshkosh. It was there that Ladi helped us devise a totally new figure for the four minute free program which we dubbed the Beaver. Essentially it was a positive G version of the lomcevak tumble that was relatively easy to fly and quite spectacular to watch. The training week went by quickly and we were soon at Oshkosh.

Disappointingly, the Russians and Czechs had decided not to participate for "technical, financial and political" reasons. Fifty competitors from nine other countries did attend, however, and things looked good for an exciting contest. The Canadians were a visible presence at the championships. In true Olympic style we entered the opening parade in our smart uniforms led by the Canadian and team flags carried by an honour guard of Air Cadets. The opening ceremony included a welcoming speech by General Claude LaFrance of the Canadian Air Force. In addition, we made sure that the Canadian Aerobatic Team logo was spray painted at strategic locations about the field.

For the first time, the event would be televised and radar tracking of flights would assist in assessing boundary infringement penalties. I had the pleasure of meeting General Chuck Yeager, the first man to exceed the speed of sound at the competition. He was the colour commentator for the TV network and I appeared on a TV interview show with him and Ladi Bezak. The contest proceeded smoothly in spite of frequent holds for bad weather.

There was one sour note to the contest. US competitor Betty Stewart was well in the lead in the female division and on track for a gold medal when she flew her whole free program backwards with respect to the sheets given to the judges. As a result only three of the nine judges gave her score. The majority zeroed the entire flight. The Americans protested the zeroed flight claiming a "clerical error". The French women's team, who were in line for gold as a result of the disqualification, interceded on her behalf and as a result the International Jury upheld the protest, awarded her a score based on the three judges alone, and she went on to win the gold medal. The Canadian team was incensed. It is a well known rule in aerobatic competition that the pilot is solely responsible for ensuring that the paperwork provided to the judges is correct and accurate. We felt that American favouritism had played a factor in the decision. This was especially distasteful after the Americans had complained so vehemently of Soviet cheating in the 1976 championships. Even though it had no bearing on our standings in the contest, we decided to boycott the closing ceremonies in protest. At the end of the day, the US team placed first overall, swept five of the top six positions in the men's division and the top three in the Women's division. Gord Price was the top scoring Canadian in thirteenth place.

The Super Acro Zenith, A Dream Come True
In the spring of 1980, Michel, my partner in VHI, was being posted overseas with Foreign Affairs and we decided to sell the Pitts S-2A. I now needed a new competitive mount. The idea I had conceived in Kiev of designing a new competition airplane had never been far from my mind. Through EAAC, I had met Zenith aircraft designer Chris Heintz. I had several discussions with him about my ideas for an all Canadian unlimited competition machine. He had built a one of a kind single seater with basic aerobatic capabilities called the CH-150 Acro Zenith. It was an all aluminum, low wing monoplane. I flew several hours in it in the spring of 1980 and felt that it had the potential to be developed into an unlimited machine. Chris and I began working together on the concept. I provided the requirements from a flying perspective and he translated them into engineering design. The plane had to be light and strong, stressed to plus-minus 12Gs, accommodate a 200 HP engine, have powerful control authority in all three axes and be neutrally stable.

Out of these conversations came the design of Super Acro Zenith. I attracted several partners to help finance the venture. Chief among these partners was John Gill, an insurance salesman who flew part time for Laurentian Air Services. He had a keen interest in aerobatics and enthusiastically involved himself in the project. We formed a company that would sell kits for the design that would be produced for us at the Zenair factory. Over the next year John and I commuted regularly to the Zenair factory at Nobleton, north of Toronto to work on building the prototype. Several of my friends from the Toronto area also pitched in to help with the construction. One in particular, lawyer Dick Frost, who had been a partner in DIP spent many hours on it. One line of rivets underneath the fuselage ended up slightly out of line so we quickly dubbed it "The Frost Line".

CH-180 Super Acro Zenith 'The J Bird' C-GZEN - 1984
While the Super Acro Zenith was being built I kept my flying currency by teaching aerobatics through Aerobatics Canada Chapter 5 in a Decathlon the club had leased from one of its members. I continued to demonstrate C-GCGW the "Lil Red Devil" CH-150 Acro Zenith flying it at the Oshawa Airshow May 30-31, 1981. Finally on July 24, 1981 the Prototype CH-180 Super Acro Zenith C-GZEN was trucked out to a private strip at Beacon Hill, Ontario and after some ground runups and taxi tests, I strapped in for its first flight. The plane took off smoothly and handled beautifully. I flew for about an hour testing all the controls through a wide range of speeds. It felt so good that I decided to do a low pass before landing. As I passed low over the field at about 180 mph a sudden vibration nearly snatched the stick from my hand. I pulled up steeply and throttled back to reduce speed as quickly as I could, the stick shaking wildly. At about 110 mph the shaking stopped. I gingerly checked the controls and looked over my shoulder to confirm that I still had a tail. All seemed OK, so I carefully entered a short circuit and landed. On ground inspection we discovered that the single cable attached to the elevator trim tab had broken and it flapped wildly in the wind causing rapid elevator deflections up and down. Fortunately there had been no structural damage and the trim tab was quickly modified to be controlled through a double horn attached by cables top and bottom.

After a week of further testing, the CH-180 and I departed for our new home at Rockliffe. It wasn't much later that I decided to take the plane, still in its original unpainted form up to my friend Jim Williams' private strip in Luskville, Quebec. Jim was the author of an excellent book about the WWII British Commonwealth Air Training Plan called simply "The Plan". The strip was quite short and I approached at minimum speed for a short field landing. Unfortunately, I got a bit too slow and the plane dropped in quite solidly from about two feet in the air. The wooden prop had splintered on impact with the ground because the spring aluminum landing gear had splayed out fully sideways to the point that the wheels had made small indentations on the underside of the wing. Fortunately, the wooden prop absorbed the shock saving the engine from damage. A new landing gear set at a more upright angle ensured that the shock of future hard landings would be transferred vertically to the fuselage support members. This was to prove to be a lifesaving change in the future.

In order to have the new aircraft design cleared for aerobatics by the Department of Transport, in addition to a complete stress analysis, a flight test program had to be completed by pilots from the EAA Technical Committee. During the month of September, test pilot Murray Morgan completed eight test flights examining the Super Acro Zenith's flight characteristics. As a result, the CH-180 design was approved for aerobatics up to plus and minus 8G at 1,150 lb gross weight and to a maximum airspeed of 260 mph. Flying over the next month identified the need for some small improvements. By tufting the wing surface, I found a premature airflow separation over the centre section during high G pull-ups. It seemed to be caused by turbulence coming from where the landing gear legs joined the fuselage immediately forward of the wing leading edge. The rudder also lacked sufficient authority during rolling turns. Leading and trailing edge wing root fillets and a larger rudder would fix these deficiencies. At the end of October John Gill flew the plane back to Zenair for the modifications and to be painted over the winter.

Since the end of World War II, Canadian officialdom, wary of a reemergence of the barnstorming days of the 1920s and '30s, had actively discouraged any notions that flying could be fun. A tragic accident at the 1949 Cleveland Air Races where Bill Odam's green Mustang crashed killing a young mother and her baby only confirmed their worst fears. Civilians were forbidden from flying high performance surplus military aircraft. Private pilot training curricula were designed with the sole aim of turning out pilots for commercial aviation. Advanced forms of flying such as aerobatics were eliminated. Postwar training aircraft designs were limited to utility category maneuvers until 1964 when the Bellanca Citabria became the first new design to be approved for aerobatics. Full spin training was replaced with incipient spin recognition and recovery under the reasoning that if pilots did not venture close to the edges of the flight envelope, they could not get into trouble. There was no form of accreditation for instructors to teach aerobatics in Canada.
This left the emerging aerobatic community in a Catch 22 situation. It was illegal to teach flying without an ab initio instructors certificate. Most flying schools had no interest in teaching aerobatics and most instructors had no current aerobatic experience. Few competent aerobatic pilots held instructors certificates or had the desire to obtain them as we only wanted to teach aerobatics to licensed pilots. The loophole that many of us had used for years was to obtain a commercial pilot's licence which allowed us to fly for a fee. We would then teach aerobatics to licensed pilots through flying clubs like EAA Chapter 189.

Aerobatics Canada sought to change this and I began discussing the need for accreditation of aerobatic instructors with various DOT officials. With assistance from DOT Inspector Wayne Foy, himself an accomplished airshow pilot, I developed primary and advanced aerobatic instruction curricula. These were ultimately accepted by DOT who created four new classes of aerobatic instructors certification based on them. I was awarded Canada's first Class 1 Aerobatic Certificate giving me the right to teach advanced aerobatics and to test and certify other aerobatic instructors. It was at about the same time that Aerobatics Canada Chapter 5 applied for a permanent aerobatic practice area adjacent to Gatineau Airport. It was granted and since it was close to our home at Rockcliffe Airport became the centre of aerobatic activity in the National Capital which it continues to be to this day.

I taught aerobatics at Rockcliffe through the winter in Chapter 5's Decathlon and a student's Citabria. On April 19, 1982 I went to the paint shop at Tottenham and picked up the newly painted Super Acro Zenith now named "The J Bird". I had chosen an orange and blue paint scheme patterned after the famous Gulfhawk planes flown at airshows by Al Williams during the 1930s and 40s. It was both distinctive and highly visible from an aerobatic judge's perspective.
Aerobatics Canada sent three pilots to the 1982 World Aerobatic Championships in Austria, Frank Jenkinson in the FJ Special, Bob Levine and Gord Price. Gord believed that the day of the biplane was not yet over and had decided to form a company to design and sell highly modified Pitts Specials he named the Ultimate Aircraft. Gord flew his prototype Ultimate Pitts in Austria and was Canada's top placing pilot finishing 26th out of 81 competitors. Gord and I became competitors. I was promoting the more modern all metal monoplanes against his traditional wood, steel and fabric biplanes.

On May 1, 1982 Christen Eagle II C-GBLE built by Grant MacKay of Calgary arrived at Ottawa Airport for aerobatic assessment by the EAA Technical Committee. I flew over in the J Bird to see it and went up in it for a brief formation flight alongside Murray Morgan. I made several flights in it while it was in Ottawa in May, and again in September, I found it lighter on the controls than the S-2A and thoroughly pleasant to fly.

Robin R2160 C-GEND - 1982
I began teaching aerobatics in a new Robin R2160 the Gatineau flight school had just acquired. Designed in France by Avions Robin and built by them in Lachute, Quebec, it was a two seat side-by-side trainer with primary aerobatic capabilities. Since Chris Heintz was formerly designer for Robin, the R2160 was very similar to his later Zenith homebuilt designs. I found it to be an excellent trainer although sitting off the centreline took a little getting used to. As a result of my experience, I was invited by the manager of the Lachute factory to demonstrate the R2160 at the Gatineau Airshow and other events throughout the 1982 season. A new demonstrator C-GEND painted black and orange was provided to me for the purpose.

On May 23 I flew it to the annual Aerobatics Canada practice weekend while John brought The J Bird. I demonstrated it to a number of the pilots attending, and flew the Sportsman sequence in it as well as practicing the unlimited sequences in ZEN. For the return home, John flew the Robin and I flew formation with him in The J Bird.

I flew my first Unlimited contest in The J Bird at the Canadian Open June 26 and 27. The results were disappointing as the wooden propellor was not providing enough performance. Gord Price offered to loan us a metal prop to compare. Back home with the new prop I installed it and was preparing to test fly it when John said "Jay, you have all the fun. Why don't you let me do the test flight this time?" I checked the installation once more. The bolts were all torqued to the proper value and securely lock wired in place. Then disaster struck!

Tragedy Averted
At 7 PM on June 28, 1982 John Gill took off in The J Bird from Rockcliffe and headed for the practice area north of the Ottawa River. Shortly after he disappeared from sight I heard him declare an emergency over the radio. He had had a mechanical failure and was going down. I ran to the Decathlon and took off to find him. As I climbed away from the circuit I again heard him on the radio saying "I'm sorry Jay, I've wrecked the airplane." Relieved that he was OK, I asked for his position and he replied that he was in a field north of the new Highway 50 and east of Gatineau Airport. Flying overhead I saw him standing in a cornfield with the J Bird beside him. I landed at Gatineau and got a ride to the crash site. What I saw was unbelievable!

What had happened was that as John was climbing toward the practice area, the propeller that I had just installed came off the aircraft. As it flew spiraling away it sliced three large holed through the top of the left wing, killing most of the lift on that side. The plane began descending steeply and John, realizing that he could not reach the nearby highway opted to land in a freshly plowed cornfield. He attempted to jettison the canopy, and, although it released, it stayed attached to the plane by its restraining cable. The plane hit the ground flat in a near vertical descent and flipped over landing about fifty feet forward of the original contact point.

Through a miraculous chain of events, John had emerged unhurt but soaked in gasoline. The soft field had absorbed much of the vertical impact, sparing John compression injuries to the spine. When the main landing gear hit, the upward force tore up the line of rivets attaching the internal load carrying members to the aluminum fuselage skin as if they were perforations on a piece of toilet paper. When the plane flipped over, inertia caused the engine, mounts and firewall to pivot about the bottom skin, as if it were a hinge, and come to rest on the belly of the aircraft facing tailward. This had opened up a small escape hole at the front through which John had crawled without a scratch!

But why had the propeller come off? Everything had looked good on the ground. The ensuing accident investigation revealed the cause. The bolts had all sheared due to twisting of the propeller laterally back and forth against the flange. Obviously the bolts had not been securely tightened. Further examination revealed that they had been just a hair too long and had run out of thread just at the time the torque value should have been increasing to indicate secure contact between the prop and the flange. I had neglected to check the length of the bolts before installation. The prop felt secure and there was no visual indication of looseness.

We removed C-GZEN from the field, paid the farmer for the damage to his crop and trucked it back to Zenair to be rebuilt. Unknown to us, hidden damage remained that would come back to bite us later on.

In hindsight, as unfortunate as the flight could have been for John, it was another stroke of good fortune that he had made the flight as it saved both our lives. If I had done it I would have stayed overhead and attempted an emergency landing back on the airport. The impact on the hard concrete would certainly have killed me!

For the rest of the year I continued teaching aerobatics in the club Decathlon and demonstrating the Robin R2160 at various locations around southern Ontario. I was asked to fly it in the Gatineau Airshow scheduled for July 30-31. I worked up an airshow routine that would demonstrate the full range of its aerobatic capabilities. In the week prior to the show I flew reporters from the Ottawa Citizen, Le Droit and TV Station CJOH to publicize the show. The weather was perfect for the weekend show and I gave both a solo aerobatic performance and a formation flyby with two other Robins each day.

I obtained the approval of the Robin factory to take the Robin to the 1982 EAA fly-in at Oshkosh, Wisconsin to put on static display and to fly it in the Sportsman category at the International Aerobatic Club Championships at Fond-du-Lac the following week. It was well received by our US neighbours and I had ample opportunity to demonstrate it to them. My son John had earned a scholarship to get his Private Pilot's Licence through Air Cadets and was due to graduate at the North Bay air force station during my trip home. I flew in and obtained permission from the base commander to fly my airshow program over their graduation ceremony, on August 11 which also happened to be John's seventeenth birthday. The next day I took him up and gave him a checkout on type in the Robin. The balance of the flying season was taken up with aerobatic training.

On May 14, 1983 we returned to King City to retrieve the rebuilt and repainted Super Acro Zenith. Once back at Gatineau I began practicing the Unlimited sequences for the upcoming season. The beginning of the season was always tough. Being rusty and out of shape after a winter layoff presented its own challenges in addition to learning a new compulsory sequence. It took a while for the body to readjust to the stresses of both positive and negative G forces. For the first few weeks I would suffer from an affliction I called the "Geezles" in which little red spots, the size of pinpricks, appeared all over my face. High negative G, especially from outside snap rolls, would force blood out into the capillaries near the surface of the skin on my face where it would cause tiny bruises. I also occasionally got what was later known as the "wobblies". This is a dizziness similar to that which sailors experience when they first step onto solid land after an extended time at sea. It results from an upset in the inner ear and can last for a few minutes or sometimes an extended period of time after a flight.

Cri-Cri MC-12
My first Unlimited contest of the season was the Quebec Open which was held June 4-5. I don't have any record of the results, so I guess I didn't win any award. If I did, the trophy is buried in the huge box of them stored in my basement. A week later I flew The J Bird in Gatineau Airshow. The Canadian developed "Beaver" tumble looks quite spectacular in the Super Acro Zenith and was well received by the crowd. At this show, I also had the opportunity to fly the Cri-Cri (Cricket in English), a tiny single seat aluminum airplane designed in France and being marketed by Chris Heintz of Zenair. It is powered by two small chain saw engines attached to the ends of a Y shaped engine mount that sticks out of the sides of the nose in front of the pilot. It was good fun to fly aerobatics with and was unique as to perform a hammerhead stall you had to cut power on the engine to the inside of the turnaround at the top of the climb.

In August, John Gill and I took The J Bird to Oshkosh and Fond-du-Lac. We demonstrated it at Oshkosh; I fly Unlimited and John Advanced at Fondy. Several well known pilots were able to try it out at Fond-du-Lac.

The 1983 Canadian National Championships were held at Gatineau September 9-11. This was my big chance, to become Canadian National Champion on my own home turf. I fought hard and flew well but in the end was edged out by Frank Jenkinson, and had to be content with second place.

Tragically, Frank Jenkinson was killed just two weeks later on September 25, 1983. He was being filmed north of Toronto for a television commercial in a borrowed Pitts when something went wrong and the airplane spun into the ground. Killing him instantly. The exact cause of the crash was never determined. This incident affected me deeply. Frank had been my friend, my teacher, my mentor, my chief competitor, and in many respects he was like a brother to me. I still miss him deeply. After his death, it seemed as if I had lost my competitive will. I continued to fly aerobatics and enter competitions but never with the same drive and enthusiasm as before.

I spent much of my time in 984 teaching aerobatics in the Decathlon at Rockcliffe. Two of my students particularly well. One was the oldest student I ever taught. He started aerobatics at 76 years of age and took several hours of instruction. The other was a serving US Air Force pilot on exchange to Canada. He had flown F-4 Phantoms in Vietnam, was shot down and spent several years in a North Vietnamese prison. Upon landing after his first flight experience with the precision demanded of competition style aerobatics he said to me "You know Jay, for the world's greatest fighter pilot, this has been a humbling experience!"

The 1984 World Aerobatic Championships were held in Hungary but Canada did not send any competitors.

On June I began practicing the 1984 competition sequences in earnest as I planned to compete at The International Aerobatic Club Championships at Fond-du-Lac, Wisconsin in August. I was the highest placing Canadian in the Unlimited category there beating out Gerry Younger. Following the contest US Aerobatic Team member Bob Davis flew the Super Acro Zenith and was impressed with its performance. The metal propellor was a big improvement over the wood/composite one we used the year before. He remarked that it did the best snap roll of any monoplane he had flown. September 1-2, I entered the Canadian National Aerobatic Championships at Gatineau and placed second again.

John and I continued marketing the Super Acro Zenith, placing ads in major aviation magazines. I demonstrated The J Bird at every opportunity. On August 24 I flew at the Trenton Airshow. Later that month I returned to my old home base at Buttonville, Ontario and flew in their airshow on September 22-23. By the end of the year we had sold five CH-180 kits, one in France, one to a dentist in Alaska and three to Canadians. I have lost track of the one in France, but all the others were completed and continue to fly at the time of this writing.

In May 1985, a mini-tornado struck Rockcliffe Airport damaging a number of aircraft. The chapter Decathlon I had been instructing in was ripped out of its tiedowns, blown 100 feet backwards to smash against a chain link fence, and destroyed. The loss was covered by insurance but my instructing ended until we found a replacement aircraft in late July.

On June 23 I flew The J Bird at the Carp Airshow. At the end of June, I traveled west to take part in contests at Abbotsford, B.C. and Springbank, Alberta. I didn't have access to an aircraft at Abbotsford so I judged all four categories. The competition was held in conjunction with the annual Abbotsford Airshow. This particular airshow was memorable as the last public demonstration of the British Avro Vulcan delta winged bomber. After a thrilling demonstration as the Vulcan climbed out away from the airshow it did an aileron roll. Not many people saw it because the plane was nearly out of view but it was a sight I will never forget. At Springbank, I was able to borrow a Super Acro Zenith from one of my Canadian customers to fly in the competition July 5-8. Flying at 3,500 feet elevation on a hot day was different from what I was used to and took some adjusting to. Nonetheless I came in third in a very challenging field that included several top competitors from the western US. I didn't realize it at the time, but this was to be my last major competition.

On August 23-24 I flew to a contest at St. Catherines, Ontario. There were no other entrants in Unlimited and only one in Advanced so I flew Advanced just to provide the other pilot some competition. This was not considered an official contest so no awards were made.

Health Problems
1986 was not a good year! In April I was approached by Chris Heintz to fly a new aircraft he had
designed for the Colombian Air Force. It was modification of his highly successful CH-250 Zenith that he dubbed the CH-250M. Originally he had intended to have Frank Jenkinson fly it to Columbia and perform a series of demonstrations there for Colombian officials. When Frank died, he asked me if I would take the task on for him. It did some test flying in the plane and was planning to do the demonstrations for Chris. Unfortunately, I encountered a medical problem and had to decline giving the opportunity to my partner John Gill instead.

I had just begun practicing for the upcoming contest season in early May when I experienced a problem. In the middle of a sequence when I was pushing negative G, I felt a sudden stabbing pain in the top of my head. I broke off and landed. I was left with a dull localized headache which lasted over three months. A series of tests showed nothing conclusive, but my neurologist, who was also an aerobatic student of mine suspected that I had experienced inter-cranial bleeding as a result of the rupture of a small blood vessel in the membrane between my brain and skull. He did not think the problem was serious and my pilot's licence was not in jeopardy. I would continue instructing primary aerobatics, however I was concerned enough about possible health problems to give up competitive aerobatics and negative G. Sadly and reluctantly, I sold my interest in the Super Acro Zenith to another pilot and never flew it again.

The 1986 World Aerobatic Championships were held in England and Canada sent two pilots, Gerry Younger and Guido Lepore from British Columbia.

The World Aerobatic Championships come to Canada
The 1988 World Aerobatic Championships would be held in Canada for the first time ever at Red Deer Alberta. Eight countries participated and, for the first time, Canada entered a full team of five pilots. Gord Price flew his new Ultimate 300 aircraft while Gerry Younger, Guido Lepore, Bob Levigne and Randy Gagne flew Pitts Specials. I served as the Canadian judge. It was truly amazing to see how aerobatics at the world level had advanced in the twelve years since Kiev. New high powered airplanes such as the Russian Sukhoi, German Extra 300 and French CAP 262 were capable of things we had never dreamed possible.

Red Deer raised the bar of aerobatic performance that has continued to evolve over the twenty years since. The cost of being competitive in aerobatics also went through the roof. Where previously a Pitts S-1S or Super Acro Zenith could be built from a kit for around $50,000 these new airplanes could cost $200,000 or more Today a truly competitive mount such as the Edge 540 or MXS can cost well over $300,000. This also attracts big money in the form of sponsorships.

In the past prize money at aerobatic contests was seldom offered and when it was, the amount was small in comparison to the cost of getting there. Now the Red Bull Air Races have combined low level air racing and aerobatics into a professional sport that attracts tens of thousands of spectators and offers huge sums in prize money. Attracted by this, some of the world's top aerobatic competitors have moved on to Red Bull. Canada's sole entrant in the 2009 Red Bull Air Races Peter McLeod from my home town of London, Ontario, has seemingly come out of nowhere after qualifying at the 2008 Red Bull Air Race Qualification Camp. I wish him well. 

The 2013 World Aerobatic Championships
The 2013 World Aerobatic Championships were held in October at the North Texas Regional Airport (formerly Perrin Field) near Sherman/Denison, Texas. For many years it has been the home of the annual US National Aerobatic Championships. Seventeen countries participated. For the first time in a number of years Canada entered the contest with three pilots from Alberta. I attended my fourth WAC as an official team member in the capacity of Observer.

It had been 25 years since my last WAC and I was both pleased and dismayed by the changes that had taken place. Canadian Dave Barbet was the sole entrant still flying the venerable Pitts biplane. The monoplane now ruled the skies, a future I had prediced at Kiev in 1976. The biplane was completely outclassed by cleaner, more powerful aircraft, such as the Extra 300, Edge 540, MX-S and Sukhoi 26 & 31. They were all specifically designed for unlimited aerobatic competition and, more or less, look and fly the same. In addition competition rules changes have meant that there is little flexibility in Free Program design. They all consist of basically the same figures, often in the same order. The golden days of multiple aircraft design and free program originality have effectively gone. Only the four minute free style, which is now flown as a separate contest encourages pilot individuality and originality. However, it was good to be back at a WAC again, to renew old acquaintences and make new friends from around the world. I spent much of the contest working as a recorder for the Lithuanian judge and her assistant and was pleased to find that my judging skills had not diminished with time. The scores I calculated in my mind matched very closely with hers.

Powering Down
I continued to teach aerobatics in the Chapter 5 Decathlon for the rest of 1986 and through until August 1989 when one of our club members was killed in the club plane doing low level aerobatics over a lake in Quebec. The insurance settlement was not sufficient for Aerobatics Chapter 5 to acquire another airplane so my instructing days also came to an end. Finding little thrill in normal flying I decided to let my licence lapse at the end of 1989. The only flying I have done since was one dual flight in 1998 with 'Pitch' Molnar in an Air Combat Canada Extra 300L. We did a full range of positive G aerobatics and I demonstrated the Canadian Beaver figure to him which the Extra did quite well.

In my 27 years as a pilot I have flown at least 34 different aircraft types (I may have forgotten a few that aren't recorded in my logbook) and have lived a life of adventure that most people only dream of. Sadly, my experiences also include a long litany of names of comrades who have been lost. They include; Alain Brassard, Amos Buetell, Dick Frost, Charlie Hillard, Frank Jenkinson, Tom Jones, Manx Kelly, Herb Leistner, Gordie McCallum, Eric Mueller, Art Scholl, Bill Smith and Neil Williams. All of them died doing what they loved best. Fly on my friends.

Since giving up flying I have continued to judge aerobatics whenever there was a nearby contest and to critique local aerobatic pilots from the ground. I still love watching aerobatics and being around aircraft and other pilots and it wasn't too long before I was again hanging out at Gatineau Airport on a regular basis.

Ad Astra
On Saturday, August 25, 2012 my family and I visited the National Air Force Museum of Canada at Trenton, Ontario for its annual commemorative stone dedication.

In 1996, the Museum created the Ad Astra Stone Program to raise funds for its operation. The Ad Astra program installs engraved, gray granite stones bearing names of Canadian airmen and airwomen along the walkways of the the RCAF Memorial Airpark located beside the museum. In exchange for a donation, anyone who served in the regular or reserve RCAF can have a stone commemorating their service installed adjacent to one of the 22 historic RCAF aircraft on display. I decided to have my stone placed near the Avro CF-100 interceptor, since it was the aircraft we controlled when I was at Falconbridge. The dedication ceremony took place on a hot, sunny day and the speeches were thankfully short.

Coincidentally, a memorial to the number 6 RCAF Bomber Group of the RAF Bomber Command during WWII. My original home squadron, the RCAF 420 Snowy Owl Squadron was a member of No. 6 Bomber group during the war. 420 was also known as the “City of London” squadron because it was sponsored by the city of London, Ontario which raised funds to finance its operations overseas. During the war, it flew Halifax bombers on many sorties  against the enemy in occupied Europe.

Vintage Wings of Canada
In the fall of 2008 I volunteered as a tour guide with Vintage Wings of Canada at their hangar at Gatineau Airport in Quebec. I had been acquainted with its founder, Michael Potter, since 1977 when I tried to sell him a computer at Quasar, his consulting company that later became Cognos, a world leading developer of business intelligence software. At the time, Mike kept a little red DeHavilland Chipmunk at Rockcliffe and I went flying in it with his partner. I remember after the flight that we spent time carefully wiping every trace of oil from the fuselage so Mike would not know that we had done aerobatics. The next several times Mike and I met were at various airshows where he would arrive with one of his newly acquired classic airplanes. I watched over the years as his collection evolved into what has now become the public foundation, Vintage Wings of Canada.

Vintage Wings maintains a fleet of more than twenty vintage aircraft representing a cross-section of Canadian military and civilian aviation heritage. Unlike the Canadian Aviation Museum across the river at Rockcliffe, who are not allowed to fly aircraft, all of Vintage Wing’s aircraft are either airworthy and being flown regularly or are being restored to flying condition. Some of the best test pilots in Canada fly Vintage Wings’ aircraft including well known Canadian astronaut Chris Hadfield.

Vintage Wings operates with a small full time staff and over 150 volunteers, who restore and maintain its aircraft and flying operations and educate the public on the contributions Canada’s civil and military pilots and aircraft have made to its aviation history. The people at Vintage Wings are like a big, friendly, extended family and being part of it allows me to be around historic airplanes, great pilots and like-minded enthusiasts. I have been interested in Canadian aviation history for most of my life and I love meeting and talking with the WWII veterans and former Air Force pilots who visit our hangar.

When Rob Fleck became President of Vintage Wings he was surprised to learn that I was a volunteer. He had heard about me while learning to fly the Tutor jet in the Canadian Air Force. His instructor, a Captain Martin Tate (the same one I taught at the 1975 Picton contest), demonstrating a slow roll would say “That’s how Canadian aerobatic champion Jay Hunt would do it”. Apparently dozens of CAF pilots learned to do a “Jay Hunt slow roll” during the early 1980s.

Snowbirds with Hawk One - April 2009
In the spring of 2009, I went to Comox BC to take part in the celebration of the 100th anniversary of powered flight in Canada at the local air force base. My brother-in-law is a retired air force veteran and has many contacts on the base. He introduced me to a number of former members of RCAF aerobatic teams, many of whom I watched perform at airshows over the years.

Vintage Wings has restored a Canadair F-86 Sabre jet to the colours of the RCAF Golden Hawks aerobatic team that flew in 1959 to celebrate the 50th anniversary of powered flight in Canada. Vintage Wings sent Hawk One to Comox to practice with the Snowbirds aerobatic team and take part in the 100th anniversary celebrations. It would fly with the Snowbirds at airshows across the country throughout the year 2009.

Stocky Edwards and Dave Hadfield in the P-40
While there, I met ‘Stocky’Edwards who was the highest scoring Canadian air ace of WWII still alive and to whom I’ve dedicated this story. In early 2009, Vintage Wings of Canada acquired a P-40 Kittyhawk fighter plane and had it restored into the colours of the plane that Stocky had flown to score thirteen and a half kills while flying in the North African campaign during the war. I had dinner with Stocky and his wife and he recounted a few of his experiences. He had written a book about his flying days during the war, and upon hearing some of my story, encouraged me to write these memoirs. In September, Stocky came to Ottawa for the annual Vintage Wings Open House. Dave Hadfield, brother of Chris Hadfield who flies our Hawk One Sabre jet, is chief pilot for our two seat Kittyhawk and he took Stocky up in it. It was the first time in sixty-five years Stocky had been in one and he flew it like it was yesterday, enjoying it a great deal.

On November 10, 2012, I was invited to take part in one of Vintage Wing’s Remembrance Day flypasts. I would occupy the back seat of our P-40 with Dave Hadfield. We flew fly in formation with our Spitfire Mk XVI over the ceremony at the Gatineau cenotaph. Following that Dave and I went off on our own for a half hour of aerobatics. The P-40 was a pleasure to fly although I found the rudder pedals very heavy and had to use lots of left foot to keep the ball in the centre. The force required changed with every change in airspeed so this required lots of concentration. I suppose with time it would become second nature but it was much different from the light touch I was used to in other aerobatic craft. After steep combat turns, rolls and cuban eights we did a simulated strafing attack on a farmhouse and then followed the rivers back to Gatineau.

On December 9, 2016, the Board of Directors of Vintage Wings of Canada decided to shut down the charitable foundation and revert operations to Mike Potter’s exclusive control. The reasons for this remain a mystery. They did not share the vision many of us had of the Vintage Wings collection surviving as part of Mike’s lasting legacy. I felt the change was a backward step that I could not support. I decided that this was the appropriate time to resign from my volunteer duties and ended my relationship with the collection at the end of 2016. I informed the Board Chairman of my decision sent a farewell thank you message to all past volunteers.

Canada Air and Space Museum
On  June 15 2017, after attending an introductory briefing at the Canada Aviation and Space Museum (CASM), I discovered that, since the last time I looked a few years earlier,  CASM had implemented a volunteer program  much along the line of the one that I had been working on at Vintage Wings.
On July 1, 2017, I began volunteering once a week at the Canada Aviation and Space Museum at Rockcliffe airport. My role is as an interpreter doing much the same things as I had at Vintage Wings. I don’t conduct formal tours. That is done by paid Museum staff. Instead, my function is similar to that of a colour commentator on a sports broadcast. I engage visitors in conversation, learn about their interests in aviation and share little known background stories about aircraft and the people represented by the collection. I also help in recruiting new volunteers, looking for ways to expand the role of the volunteers, and enhancing the museum visitor experience. Through this activity, I have been privileged to meet a number of interesting aviation personalities., among them a former Avro Arrow test pilot.
On November 23, 2018 the Museum was visited by Lorne Ursel, the fifth and last surviving test pilot of the CF105 Avro Arrow project. Following an RCAF career as a CF100 pilot, he joined Avro and was trained as a test pilot at Edwards Air Force base in the US. Following a period as a test pilot on the CF100 interceptor, he joined the Arrow program. He flew chase plane missions in support of 18 Arrow test flights, conducted two high speed ground taxi tests in the Arrow and was scheduled for his first flight in the Arrow when the program was cancelled by the Canadian government on February 20, 1959. I enjoyed listening to the stories of his experiences with Avro. 
The COVID pandemic of 2020 caused my to pause my volunteering activity at CASM. I resumed as a volunteer in May 2024, coinciding with the launch of a new Cold War exhibit. I hope to continue as a volunteer at the museum for as long as my health allows.