Dragon Rapides, and why YOU need to fly in one

Well, after promising myself I’d do it for many months, today was the day I finally took my son Haydn in an aeroplane for the first time.

I’d already decided that there was a family tradition to uphold; my first flight was in a de Havilland aeroplane, and so it was only fitting that Haydn should first experience flight in one of Sir Geoffrey’s finest. Far better than a Sleazyjet cattlecraft to Torremolinos or a Spamcan out of Cambridge. No, his first experience of flight HAD to be in a classic.

So today, off we went to Duxford. I didn’t tell him where we were going (but he guessed), or why we were going. Turned up at the Classic Wings booking office, paid the money, got told to come back ten minutes before the slot time, and off we went for a quick wander. We watched the Thunderbolt take off, and then it was time for our briefing. Nice and relaxed, the eight of us who were due to fly were talked through the briefing card, how the seat belts work, where the emergency exits are. Here’s the fun part; emergency exits in a Dragon Rapide are fabric covered holes in the roof. Pull the cover out, climb up, and slide down the fuselage to safety. How wonderfully quirky! You don’t get THAT on Sleazyjet!

Next, it’s embarkation time. In through the door, and we’ve been given the front two seats. So it’s an uphill crouching climb between the seats, sit down, and strap in. Haydn’s on a booster cushion so he can see out of his window. And he’s finding the angle quite odd, until I explain that when we get airborne, we’ll be level. We look out of our respective windows to see two bladed wooden props, silver fabric covered wings, and bracing wires. And finally, the pilot climbs in through the door, clambers up past us, checking everyone’s seatbelts and saying hello as he goes. Gets to the pointy end, sits down, straps in, and gets us started.

Sitting as I did five feet behind him, I had a good view of the start up drills. Looked significantly less complex than the PA28 to be honest, and in no time at all we’ve got both started (although the left took a bit of priming), and off we trundle to the hold. We sit there waiting for a while as the P47 finishes it’s display practice, I take the opportunity of snapping pictures of Haydn’s grinning face, and the pilot completes his power checks. P47 pulls up into the downwind to land, and evediently we’re cleared for an immediate departure. Taxi onto the grass, straighten up, and away we go!

I’m glancing over towards Haydn as things get bumpier and noisier, but all I can see is a grin that’s just expanding with every passing second. The tail lifts, the bumps become less severe and eventually disappear, and we’re up! Haydn’s giving me the thumbs up, and then suddenly he looks out of the window. Every once in a while, we all experience something new. Something that just makes your jaw drop, your eyes widen, and stops you dead in your tracks. You don’t know whether to be afraid, or to love it. Haydn loved it. The eyes widened, the grin got unbelievably wide, he pointed at the ground falling away, and laughed.

The rest of the flight went far too quickly; Haydn had been saying that he wanted to take lots of photo’s. By the time we landed, he’d taken three. The rest of the time he’d been staring goggle eyed out of the window, pointing out Duxford, pointing out cars, trucks, trains, roads, ponds, houses. A real voyage of discovery.

All too soon it was time to land. Approached over the M11 and touched on the left mainwheel first, slight rumbling and bumping but no adverse reaction from Haydn. Second mainwheel on, speed dropping away, down comes the tail, quick glance across, and the grin’s still there, but it’s starting to fade as he realises that the flight is over. We taxi back in, the pilot cuts the engines, and it’s time to clamber back downhill. The obligatory photo in front of the aeroplane, and then it’s off for celebratory ice creams. Wonderful.

So, did he enjoy it? Undoubtedly. He didn’t stop jabbering about it for the rest of the afternoon, happily telling complete strangers “Me and my dad flew in that today!” every time the Dragon Rapide went up for another flight.

From a personal perspective, I’m really glad that his first flight came like this. Flying in a vintage aeroplane like this has a different look, smell, sound and feel to any other kind of flying. Everyone should be made to experience this, in fact for kids it should be part of the national curriculum; “Flying in an old aeroplane”. It was the first ‘old’ aeroplane I’ve flown in since my last Chipmunk flight nearly fifteen years ago, and I’d forgotten just how wonderful these old things are.

For the Classic Wings team, it was all in a day’s work, but it’s been something that both Haydn and I thoroughly enjoyed, and I’m sure it’s an experience Haydn will remember for ever. 🙂

There was a thread on here recently about fear of flying. Well, if anyone IS scared of flying, go to Duxford and fly in the Rapide. It’ll teach you that flying isn’t about squeezing yourself into a metal tube with hundreds of others and going off to Torremolinos. No. Flying in the Rapide is fun. And that’s the way it should be.