In 1976, Frank Barnes and I formed the British
Bacon Balloon Group. We were sponsored by a major food company, British
Bacon. Naturally our sponsors were interested in obtaining all the publicity
that they could with their balloon. We tried to figure out how to get them
some publicity for their products without costing them any more money.
I had this idea that we should fly over Loch Ness trailing a slab of bacon on a string, and see what would happen!?!? Loch Ness is a deep lake, twenty miles long by one mile wide, that splits the Scottish Highlands in half. It runs northeast from Fort Augustus almost to Inverness, the northernmost city in Scotland. Especially during the summer months, thousands of tourists visit the area. They enjoy seeing the historic castles. Some castles are in ruins, while others have been kept up beautifully, and are still lived in. But most of all, everyone who visits Loch Ness hopes to catch a glimpse of Nessie, the legendary Loch Ness Monster. While few photographs exist, stories abound. Many folks are ready and willing to tell their story of the glimpse they caught of Nessie. Were it not for Nessie, most tourists would not give Loch Ness a second thought.
We drove to Scotland, and set up our headquarters in Inverness. One fine morning, we took off from Urquhart Castle, which is situated on a small peninsula jutting out into the loch about halfway down the north shore. Since there was no direct road access to the castle grounds, we had to disassemble our Thunder 77, and carry it in pieces down a short steep hill to the launch site. The press, consisting of several newspaper reporters, photographers and a TV cameraman, was present as we inflated and took off. A lovely layer of mist hung over the loch. Unfortunately, the wind did not take us across the loch as we had wished but instead blew us inland, so we landed as soon as we could and called it a day.
The next day, we trundled off to the Inverness end of the loch, the northeast end, and obtained permission to take off from the grounds of another castle. We got exactly the right winds this time, and flew majestically down the loch trailing our piece of bacon. We flew for three or four miles, at about 150 feet above the water. It worked absolutely like a treat. It was amazing! At all times, though, I stood ready with a knife to cut the string, should anything grab the bacon!
Suddenly we got a 180 degree wind shift, and started back towards the northeast end of the loch. Beyond that was the City of Inverness, and then, if we could not land, the North Sea! I looked to the right and left. Both sides of the loch are heavily wooded, with few places to land. There was only one thing for it. It was a hell of a risk. I turned the single burner on, climbed up to 4000 feet, and fortunately at that altitude got a wind out of the south, taking us rapidly toward the upper reaches of Moray Firth.
The southerly winds, coming across ranges of mountains and hills, were quite strong and turbulent, blowing out the single pilot light more than once. Fortunately we carried a gas blowlamp to act as an emergency pilot light, and were able to relight as needed. As we approached the end of our fuel supply, we were finally able to descend and land the balloon two fields short of Moray Firth.
The next day, our story and picture appeared in a major newspaper, the Scotsman. While some of their readers might have hoped that we would try to catch Nessie, we had no such idea! But we were able to take advantage of local lore to get a lot of free publicity for our sponsor.
Ed note: The author, now a British Airways 747 Captain, recently flew into Seattle, and gave us this story from his exciting past. The Thunder 77 was the 10th balloon made by the fledgling company. It had one weak burner and a Velcro top. The only force between the occupants and complete deflation in mid-air were strips of Velcro. Before it was retired, the balloon kept the name, British Bacon, in front of the breakfast-eaters of Great Britain for many years.
