Our sport and our magazine abound with stories about fly-aways, this is just another one of those stories. But, is this not what our sport is all about – have wings, must fly and if possible must fly far away.

This particular fly-away was designed from day one to fulfill the classic African dream, to take a Trike and go on safari. Convened by Paul Lintott of Ballito airfield and Dave and Rona Jackson of Dolphin Coast Microlighting, this safari was to take a group of British microlighters on a grand tour. Of the six tourists, four had been on tour in S.A. before and that was for a safari down the Transkei Wild Coast, now they wanted to see the thornveld, the game reserves and the very long beaches of Maputoland. The plot; four days, to take in basically the whole of Zululand, to search for wild animals, sea life and to visit real bush strip airfields – Oh yes please!

In 100% predictable fashion Wing Commander Jackson took charge, as only he can do. Dave and Rona’s planning in one word was impeccable. Every last detail of who, how, when and where had been thought about, with all contingencies covered. Amidst such military style precision I felt a great sense of well being and security as ‘D day’ approached and I looked forward with great relish to our departure. All parties assembled on the afternoon preceding departure day, in order to meet, greet and prepare, and as would expected, Rona had the catering snacks all lined up, along with a hearty supply of giggle juice. It was great to meet up again with Tim Guest, the leader of the Brit visitors, also with Derek, Tony and Tim ‘2’ on their second visits and with Colin and Debbie on their first S.A. tours. Much merriment was made, in fact to the extent that Jamie and Derek felt compelled, for some very strange reason to fire the occasion with a short celebratory streak along the runway. They burst out from behind the sugar cane and the race was on. If this was the start and a sign of things to come, then my prior sense of well being was now dwindling fast, as clearly this was going to be a party safari.

Hanger doors opened at the crack of dawn and the Tom foolery of the previous evening was now replaced with an earnest frenzy of preparation. Each one of us Instructors were allocated a visiting Brit pilot, the navigational plot was briefed by Dave and off we went in a loose formation up Kwa Zulu-Natal’s north coast. The sun was just up and we flew the 8 odd kilometers from Ballito airfield to join the coast and fly northwards and this was all in weather conditions which could not have been better, even if we’d ordered it. The prevalent and lightest north westerly breeze was on our port beam and it was a Monday morning. You needn’t guess the next statement; the whole world was getting ready for work and we were airborne, low level along a beautiful coastline! Just to make the morning perfect, one of the after markers called in a whale spotting and we did an orbit to have a closer look, unfortunately however missing the sighting, but hey, no problem, there was certainly going to be more. The plan had us fly north past the Tugela river mouth and on to Umtunzini where we’d angle inland to the Empangeni airfield. En route along beaches that are as wide and as straight as a twenty lane autobaan it was impossible not to do the ultra low level trick. Knowing that power lines and fences are not built out into the sea and with not a ripple in the wind we went down to about 5 foot AGL. I can’t say for sure that this was the height as all focus is on maintaining flight attitude whilst blasting along the beach at faster than cruise speed. With the ban on 4X4 vehicles on the beaches and with zero inhabitation of this stretch of coast there was not a soul to seen, just 6 Trikes having the time of their lives.

The Brit contingent were all microlighters of varying skill levels and they had decided that the complexities of validating their licenses through our CAA was just not worth the effort. They also felt that it would be in their best interests anyway if they had ‘locals’ with them on tour and hence our involvement. I gathered that these fellows seldom venture away from their runway back home in the UK, in fact a visit to a neighbouring airfield some 30kms distant is viewed as a cross country and undertaken with some serious navigation. This is partly due to their not using radios at all (very surprising for a country with such volumes of air traffic) and due to the heavy traffic activity. It was therefore not one scrap surprising that the excitement levels upon landing at Empangeni were palpable. These fellows were babbling more than a flock of canaries, all relating what they’d seen and felt. For most it was already on record as the longest single stretch of flying they’d ever done and although now landed, they were definitely still flying. Rob Matthews of Empangeni did a star turn by being at the airfield with fuel and best of all with a hearty South African breakfast. Whilst doing our cholesterol levels no good, the breakfast seemed to fuel the energy of the Brits who were raring to get back in the air for more of this unbelievable flying.

With humans and Trikes fuelled and with heartfelt thanks to Rob we departed, with the early departures orbiting overhead and awaiting the re-assembly of the gaggle to head on into bush country. This next leg was from Empangeni, now staying inland and headed over the thornveld regions of Matubatuba, Umfolozi and eventually to our desitnation at Hluhluwe. With the day having warmed up, presenting developing thermals and rather inhospitable terrain below, we maintained a consistent 2500’AGL and found smooth conditions in perfectly clear skies. Derek Chamberlain, my accompaniment for the day was enthralled to see the vastness of Umfolozi game reserve, just inland of our track and even more amazed that he was ‘visiting’ the historic place where the black rhino had been brought back from the brink of extinction. The extent of the drought we are currently experiencing in S.A. was abundantly evident by the mere trickle of the ordinarily full Umfolozi river. One of our squad (no names will be mentioned here) decided to take a closer look at the river and peeled off from the formation, descending and disappearing from sight. This he had done without radio notification of his intentions, this caused great consternation amongst the group at the time that I spotted we were only 5 and not the six Trikes we should have been. The dilemma being; do we all turn back and look for him, or press on for the short remaining distance to our destination, then send back only 2 trikes and thus put less people at risk in the process of a search. No amount of radio calling rendered any results and in somewhat subdued spirits we raced for Hluhluwe. Within minutes of our fifth Trike landing the errant sixth Trike popped into circuit and landed, this with big smiles and jubilation still resident from their bit of extra fun. The smiles were wiped very quickly off their faces when they encountered the wrath of Squadron Leader Jackson.

The wind had picked up from the South by this time and whilst having helped to push us along, we also figured that no chances could be taken with our beloved flying machines and hence every wing was removed and pegged flat on the ground. A most appropriate action, as the night ended up presenting big wind, big enough that it would certainly have wrecked havoc with any erected Trike. From our tying down mission we were taken by safari vehicle to Bonamanzi Lodge. Bonamanzi is a perfect introduction for first timers to the bush as it has a wealth of well stocked wildlife, but none of the Big 5 and thus making for a relaxed atmosphere and easy walking. An article in a flying publication should probably not use up space on game lodge reviews, so I won’t do that, suffice to say however that Bonamazi is a ‘must do’ if you are ever in the area. After what was clearly the best flying experience ever had by our visitors, a bush walk under the guidance of the most astute and very bush wise Jamie Mathewson and finally a boma braai, there was no waste of time in getting to bed for a serious recharge.

The exceptionally full previous day did nothing to dampen the enthusiasm of the Pomms, they were raring to go and hungry for more. The wind was very strong from the South and there was sufficient regard for its strength that us locals were unusually quiet, going about our re-rigging silently and each man immersed in his own thoughts of whether we were possibly doing something very silly here. The forecast indicated that things were going to deteriorate through the latter part of the day, however this wind was from the South and we were headed north and hence the decision to run with this wind and to at least fly what was a very much shorter leg than the previous day. I for one decided that I didn’t want to do this flight, so Demon Dave then set up to do a live check on the flyability of the conditions. With almost zero ground roll his Rotax 582 equipped Aquilla shot up like the proverbial fart in a bath and rocked and rolled it’s way into a circuit. Eleven concerned and silent aviators stood watching and I am sure, all hoping that he’d land and cancel the sortie. No such luck, Dave landed reporting that whilst strong it was smooth, perfectly in our favor and that we should depart forthwith. Colin my accompaniment for the day opted out of being ‘hands on’ with the take off, so I took hold from the dual controls and we blasted off with no small amount of trepidation. I could speak for all of us when I say that our fears were quickly forgotten by a height of only 300’AGL, it was silky smooth. The dead flat terrain was of course making no topographical turbulence and the full cloud cover was preventing any thermal development and hence the beautifully smooth conditions. This experience brought to mind what a good thing it is, that we all have this high regard for self preservation – it was in fact perfectly flyable and yet our cautious approach had nearly had us ‘locked in’ for the day. My relief was however short lived, one cursory glance at the GPS put me right back on full alert, we were blasting along at 130kph in Trikes that normally cruise at an airspeed of 70 – 75kph! The wind was blowing at somewhere around 60kph, enough to make even the most hardened Trike pilot pay some real attention. The beauty and the vastness of the St. Lucia wetlands whizzed by under us, this with some disappointment at not being able to savor the privilege of enjoying this World Heritage site in more detail. An interesting interlude here is that our appointed radio/nav man for the day (again, no names) reported to a Cessna 206 out of Phinda that we were low level and South of the wetlands and that there should be no conflict. In fact we were north of the wetlands and definitely in conflict, so rather than putting safety ahead of saving face, the requisite correction was made, only to have the C206 blast through directly underneath our group. The closing speeds were phenomenal and we were low (<1000’AGL) and he was even lower. This was quite a learning curve in terms of the need to be very accurate with positional reporting and to never be too shy to announce corrections to our mistakes. Destination was Sodwana Bay parks board bush strip, which we arrived at in a never to be repeated record time of only 45 minutes. There was a small but rather vertically developed cumulus cloud just seaward of the field and it was releasing both rain and some of it’s energy, This Jamie learnt with a great surprise when he took a good ‘whacking’ on his down wind leg of the circuit. Fortunately he broadcast this to the group, who were forewarned and thankfully so, as we all experienced varying degrees of nasty turbulence. Having defied the rule of; Its better to be down here wishing you were up there, than being up there and wishing you were down on the ground’ it was now very very good to be down. There was no question of whether to drop the wings, work just started and in wind strengths necessitating several people working one Trike at a time, a very relieved crew boarded the Coral Divers land rover for the ride to their lodge.

Coral Divers Lodge was not anywhere near as well presented and as clean as the previous day’s Bonamanzi. However it was homely, very relaxed and not expected to be posh, as it caters more towards the backpacker type fraternity. Our stay became a prolonged one as the weather deteriorated further, including rain and it kept us down for a whole day. This day was spent quad bike riding, visiting the touristy spots and visiting a restaurant where the biggest ribs in the world are served. It would seem that spare ribs in Sodwana are not from pork or mutton, but are rather those of an ox. Much fun was had with a beach tractor drive cruise and there is plenty in Sodwana for the visiting pilot to enjoy. On our grounded day we received a message from the guard employed to look after the Trikes that the wind was shifting them around, so the team departed to attend. Well, “shifting around” was a raging understatement as one Trike had it’s wing lifted clear off the ground, ensnaring the Trike’s nose wheel in the process, leaving the Trike standing on it’s prop and the wing upside down – Panic! Unbelievably, nothing was damaged, the prop had ploughed neatly through the very soft dune sand, without even leaving a mark and the wing king post was straight. Another lesson was learnt – you can’t tie down enough and if its going to be done, then do it properly.

Having lost a day Dave was keen to push for substantial distance the following morning, so all were up very early to rig Trikes and to carve up some air. We were greeted by some sodden Trikes and Tony had very cleverly brought refuse bin liner bags to sit on, preventing some later seriously itchy a….s. With the wind still from the south we flew north along the most desolate but stunningly scenic beaches. If we had figured that we’d seen good beaches on our first day then we were wrong, the sea life, the unbelievable water clarity and pristine beaches inevitably prompted the absolute conviction that we are privileged to be able to live in this country and to fly microlights. Lake Sibayi, reputed to be the clearest fresh water lake in southern Africa was all that it’s cut out to be. Within only hundreds of meters of the beach this natural lake has white sand and hippos too numerous to believe. Moving on we reached the Kosi lake and estuary system famous for the reed trap fishing conducted by the locals. These reed hedges are positioned to entrap the fish, with the fisherman wading out to the traps and spearing their fish by hand, it’s the most unusual aerial view imaginable. Kosi is situated about 2kms short of the border between Natal and Mozambique, so with feelings of the accomplishment of having really covered KZN we turned 180o and angling inland away from the coast and headed for Mkuze.
This turn around instantly produced a reality check – we were into a fresh headwind, ground speed down to about 35kph and getting bumped all over the park. Making Mkuze on the fuel reserves was a definite concern, the discomfort of the big thermals was a genuine problem. I opted to climb and at 5000’AGL found great relief through the GPS, now indicating 80kph and smooth air. This was interesting as ordinarily we never fly at such altitudes and it felt high enough that I’m sure I could see the curvature of the earth, that is whilst I was able to focus through the shivering from the cold. Dressed only in summer flight suits the lapse rate was clearly at work and we froze our little buns off, but rather this than the impossible conditions at the lower levels. The cloud base was exceptionally defined and about 100’ above us, with a 4/8ths dispersion and then towering up hundreds of feet higher. We found what could best be described as an avenue in the clouds and where purely for effect we climbed to 5500’, in full view of the ground but with towering banks of cloud close by on either side of us. This experience was almost ethereal and perhaps akin to blasting along the side of the sheer Drakensberg cliffs, but with another mountain range off the other wing tip. Another marvelous meteorological sighting was to clearly see rain squalls falling from clouds which we skirted around. Its so strange to be dry but watching rain falling away from above. At this point I and Tony, my companion were alone, everyone had broken away, all with their own best plans for this leg and whilst it had been nice to fly in the company of 5 other Trikes, it was now great to be far away, very high and very alone in the African sky. The enormity of the Lebombo mountain range with Jozini dam pressed up against the inland foothills was a spectacle to be savored and one which lent itself to going completely crazy with the camera. Mkuze was the destination and to our satisfaction upon descent we spotted 2 other Trikes converging with us towards Mkuze, two others were already on the apron and all looked well for everyone having negotiated this fairly challenging leg. Mkuze airfield is an ex military airfield, established ostensibly to provide a military ‘launch pad’ into Mozambique, back in days of S.A’s. border wars. To say that the runway is huge would be putting the case mildly, a Trike could land and take off maybe 20 times in it’s length. The most welcome sight upon taxiing into the apron was Rona’s bakkie with food and fuel. Rona and Melanie had been with us throughout, driving in support to each destination and carrying luggage which would have burst the biggest of touring panniers. The full and sincere appreciation for this thankless task, conducted with absolute reliability really struck me at this most distant location.

Amidst the bustle of eating, fuelling and calls to the Durban met office Dave made the decision that we would fly from here directly for home. I was certain he was joking, after all it had taken 3 days of flying to reach here and he surely couldn’t assume that we’d go for home (Ballito) in one hop. I was wrong, we were going all the way – brace yourselves boys! This leg took us over Hluhluwe and Umfolozi game reserves, the mere vastness of which serves as a compliment to the far sighted individuals who declared them all those years ago. Thank goodness we still have these jewels of habitat preserved in our land. We flew past Empangeni and landed on a goat track in the middle of the sugar cane, the location of which was accomplished by Rob Matthews talking us down via handheld ground radio. Once again it was Rob to the rescue, he’d played truant from work to be there for us and with the vitally needed fuel, a true brother from the brotherhood of aviators. The chatter whilst refueling was entirely and only to do with dead reckoning on timing, we had to fuel, blast off and keep up a constant high speed if we were to make it to base before sundown. This last leg of some 130kms was a case of each man for himself and just get there, the headwind was gone, the warmth of the day lingered on, the coastline beckoned and we had a ball. Retracing our steps along the coastline at between 50 and 100’AGL, with Tony following the shoreline precisely into each bay, out around the headlands and all in totally still air whilst the sun was making the sky orange behind the Eshowe escarpment. Too good to be true! We all managed to sneak in home on absolute limits in terms of light and legalities. It had been a marathon 6 hours in the saddle – Phew!

On the following weekend, we all got back together for a farewell dinner and the Brits had by now had some time to reflect upon the magnitude of what they had just done, clearly this safari had been something enormous in their lives and we all declared that Triking should be banned as a mind altering substance. If you ever catch me with a dreamy thousand yard stare, you will know that I’m probably reminiscing with a longing nostalgia about this wonderful safari.

Steve McCurrach