Balloon Life,September 2000

38

Experience of others can help prepare you for the unexpected!

HangarFlying

editedbyGeorgeDenniston

Water, Water
Everywhere...

by Matt McKee

How on earth did I end up here? Sitting in
the Accident and Emergencyward of the
Blenheim, New Zealand hospital wearing
nothingbutmyunderwearandwrapped
up in an amount oflinen that Tutankhamen
wouldbe jealousof! Hangon! Let’sre-
view the morning.
Asfarassmallballooneventsgo,
BubblesandBalloonsstartedoutasa
pretty “normal” flying morning.The brief-
ingfor themorningwasfor lightwinds
and drainage down theWairau valley. We
arrived at the launch field early and waited
untilhalf anhourbeforedawn.Several
pilots released pibals. These driftedgen-
tly until they cleared the shelter of the hill
andtreesbehindusbeforezoomingoff
down the valley at around 12 knots. Con-
sequently the flight was put on hold by our
balloonmeister.
Asthe sunbreachedtheridgetops,
the wind in the valley decreased slightly,
indicatedbythesteadystreamofpibals
being releasedby pilots champing at the
bit to get out and fly. So, even though the
wind still looked a little on the quick side
atapp rox imately12k nots,p reviou s
flights,localknowledge,andafurther
checkof the Area TerminalInformation
Service indicatedthat eventhough it was
fastatthisendofthevalley,thewind
wouldslow aswe flew downit.Asyou
approach theocean thesource ofthe “suck”
that causes the drainage is closer; also, the
shape oftheglacialvalleyspreadsfrom
being quite narrowat the top, to around 10
km across at the ocean.
Theharetookoff.Threeminutes
later two pilots called the hare and asked

his ground speed. He answered 5.7 knots
on his GPS. So six to ten minutes later 19
hounds followedinwhat wouldturnout
tobe hot pursuit! I wasflying a 105 with
justmyself andone other aboard, a little
lightlike everyoneelsedue toalackof
sponsor rides and many crew not arriving
until Saturday. Itook offwith a lot of extra
lift, as I wanted to punch through the shear
just above the trees. By now I’m traveling
prettynimblydoingaround8-10knots.
UnfortunatelyIgotapushtotheleft
(North side) of the valley, which is, to my
dismay,almostcompletelycoveredin
vineyards. Field upon field of grapevines
areheldupbyfencingwireandsome
prettygrunty strainer posts.
This was fine, I thought. At the brief-
ing the night before one of the local pilots
mentioned that in general, there is usually
apatternof“Lowforleft,Heightfor
right.” I wanted a bit of right so up I went
to around 2500 feet AGL but was alarmed
to find thedirection the same. So Idropped
downto80feet,stillnothing.Andto
make mattersworse,notonly wasI fol-
lowingeveryfence line goingdownthe
valley, the wind strength had increased to
around 25 knots in my area. Although this
sounds an exaggeration, it’s not. The hare
balloon later informed me he was averag-
ing22knotsonhisGPSoverthelocal
airfield, 11 kilometers (6 miles) from the
launchfield. Atthatpoint Iwasalready
passing him.
Icontinuedthedreadedpatternof
following fencelines whenI wasn’t fly-
ingovervineyards,allthetimehearing
thosefamouswordsinthebackofmy

head,“Warpnine Mr.Zulu. Engage...,”
untilI begantoreachthe fableddivider
between safety and no-mans land, in this
instancea setofhummers(the national
grid) that run across the end of the valley
less than a kilometer from the coast. (As I
sawthose,the“puckerfactor”wasin-
creasedtenfold)I’dattemptedtwoor
three landings by this point but each time
Icamewithin20feetoftheground,a
fence line would pop up. I made one more
approachbefore the hummersbut hadto
abort dueto aset of feeder powerlines that
ranthrough the field.
I was forced to go over the hummers.
I didn’t want to go too high as I now only
had 850meters of dirt between the wires
andthe Pacific Ocean. This wasdivided
intwobytheriverthatflowsdownthe
valley, it makes a 90 degree turn at the end
ofthevalleyandfollowsthecoastfor
abouttwokilometersbeforeemptying
intothe ocean. It was now or never.
ThenIsawit—themostbeautiful
thing I have ever seen—on the other side
ofthe riverswollen by the previous weeks
of rain, was a nice big paddock and I was
heading for the centerline! I descended to
around 50 feet, and flewtowards the river
still doing25knots.I hada perfectline.
My heart pumping I began a slowdescent,
150-200ft/min.,thiswouldgreaseitin
overthe fenceandgivetheSmartVent
plentyoftimetoworkitshighspeed
magic! Between the speedof the current
in the river, and the wind speed there was
an extremely strong “wind river” flowing
alongthe surface of theriverand35-40
feet up its banks. It sucked me down onto

39

Balloon Life,September 2000

HANGAR FLYING with George Den-
niston is presented to enhance safe flyin g
by providing balloonists the oppo rtunity
to gain experience from others without
actually flying. The column is edited by
George Denniston who is a d octor and
balloonist living in Seattle, Washington.
Articles may be signed or anonymous to
protect the privacy of those involved, as
the author wishes. If you have an experi-
ence th at you would like to share with
others, send your manuscript to Balloo n
Life magazine, Hangar Fly ing wi th
George Denniston, 2336 47th Ave SW,
Seattle, WA 98116-2 331. Submissions
may be typewritten, submitted on disk
(Mac or IBM format), or e-mailed to
tom@balloonlife.com. Balloon Life pays
$35 for each story used.

thegroundandstraightintothecorner
strainerpostof thelastpaddockonthis
side of the river, and inline with a griev-
ous-lookingdead tree. At this point I felt
the worst sensation I haveever felt in a hot
air balloon to date. I had briefedmy pas-
senger earlier in the flight as to the proce-
dures in a high wind landing, telling him,
“Itmaybe quite a fastlanding. The
harder it looks like itsgonna be,thefur-
therinthebasketyoushouldcrouch,
leaning into the side of impact, andhold-
ingonto any of the rope handles.”
I chose landing over the possibility of
trying to make it over the river. I did this
because,ifIdidmanagetoarrestmy
descent in time, as I cameout of the river’s
pull,I more thanlikelywould have shot
upoutofmylandingarea,andIdidn’t
have any more land left. This left me only
one option. Try and land the balloon in the
available space.
As we headed for the fence post, still
10 feet AGL, I exclaimed, “Hit the deck,
and hold on! Its gonna be a bumpy ride!”
At that I began pulling the line forthe
Smart Vent, and headed for the bottom of
the basket. I felt the impact of the ground.
I lookeduptoseethe balloonspinnaker
out.Lookingthroughthefoothole,the
vent now fullyopen, I saw the fence post
comingupandwarnedmypassenger.
There wasamassive crackingsoundas
the basket hit the post, we were deflected
offthepostandcontinuedonourway
towardsthetree.Onceagainloo king
through the foot hole I saw the tree loom-
ing and once again, told my passenger we
were inforthe tree aswell.Fortunately
thebasketmissedthe tree,but my enve-
lope didn’tand I heardthe painful sound
of rip stop nylon ripping. We had, by now
slowed down significantly,but not enough.
I feltthe basketfalldownthe short drop
andintotheicecoldriver.Iinstantly
remembered an incident a couple of years
earlier where the pilot told the passengers
to“keepawayfrom the balloon,” mean-
ingtheenvelope.Thepassengerstook
this the wrong way andswam away from
thebasket,asthebasketrolledupside
down in the water. I told my passenger to

get out of the basket, but to hold on to the
side as it will float.
Once the balloon had “settled” in the
river, and I had ascertained my passenger
andIwere unharmed, theonlycasualty
beingoneofdad’sairbandradios,he
swam ashore. I climbedup ontothe bot-
tom of the basket to keep out of the freez-
ingwater, watching him to make sure he
made it ashore. When he was safe, Irolled
thebasketonitsside,logrollingstyle,
reached in through the foot hole, and, after
10 minutesof searching, foundthe drop
line, unfurled it and tried to swim ashore.
The river, in flood, wasmovingata fast
pace. I wassoon goingtobe out atsea.
Therewere four things I neglected. 1)
I was still wearing my jeans and thermals
whenIstartedmyswim,2)Iwasstill
wearing my shoes, 3) the water was only
about 2degrees Celsius, and4) the river
had widened substantially. I clenched the
dropline in my mouth and off I went. Less
than a minute intomy mid-winter swim,
myarmsandlegsrapidlybegantobe-
come numb. Stillholdingthe dropline in
my mouth I looked back at the basket and
suddenly realized I wasn’t going to make
it back. Just as my legs stopped working I
saw an awesome sight. A local farmhand
rowed round the envelope andgot to me
justasmyarms begantogofully numb.
Hegrabbedthebackofmyshirtasmy
arms stopped working,pulling me aboard.
Afteranawesomeeffortfromthe
engineroom(thefarmhand),andafew
tripsbackandforthovertheriver,we
finally got the dropline, extended with the
anchor warp ofa nearby boat, ashore. One
of the locals grabbed it and gallantly said,
“I’ll hold it.”
“No you won’t,” I cried. “You’d bet-
ter tie it down now.”
Begrudgingly he did, to a hugelog on
thebankof the river, onlyto see the log
make tracks for the river! They brought in
a tractor and tied off to it and to a strainer
post. I was bundled into an ambulance and
rushed offto the Accident and Emergency
ward of the Blenheim Hospital, and that’s
where this storyends.
At the post flight de-brief that night,

I learned that I was not the only pilot who
hadencountereddifficultylanding.The
average landing that day included a 70-75
meter dragandatleast onefenceline. I
was unlucky that thefinal 15-20 meters of
mylandingendedina river.Experience
factorof the20pilotswasfrommy60
hours PIC through to pilots with 20 years
andupto1100hoursPICinvarying
conditions.
Damage to the balloon was minimal,
up until the pointof recovery.
Onefinalnote:AlthoughIwasat
timesconcerned, never duringthe flight,
or landingwasI scared. If I hadbeen, I
would not be here now. I always maintain
you should have a healthy respect foryour
balloonanditscapabilities,butthemo-
ment youfear the balloonis the moment
you have lost control.