...scenic flight and more A trip to the country was an opportunity to take the Floater Jet to see whether there might be an opportunity for lift off the adjoining hillside. Also, an opportunity for a gentle scenic flight the next day, with a tranquil morning and the lake mirror-calm.
Not that it was an uneventful flight, with a flock of corellas passing through and a very close call with a radio tower. And to end it, probably the worst judged approach I've made in a long time, with the docile Floater Jet over-flying and floating straight into the garage door...
This beautiful sunset on a still evening had me heading off to the field in a hurry with the trusty Floater Jet and mobius camera to try and capture some of it. It’s always compelling to try and do this to make the most of what is otherwise obscured and diminished by the lack of a clear view.
From a vantage of a couple of hundred feet up, however, this is not an issue although there are others; the Floater is not the easiest thing to fly smoothly and steadily, especially when you’re trying to climb. Also, judging orientation from the ground is a bit hit and miss, compelling arguments for getting a drone with FPV capability.
The video from the flight was understandably then a little scrambled, with lovely glimpses here and there of the sun gradually sinking beyond the horizon. However, gradually sifting through the footage and stringing clips together I think I’ve managed to compile something that’s tranquil and a little bit special, in conjunction with a lovely acoustic guitar soundtrack.
Of course it’s nowhere as smooth or professional looking as something off a drone, but still not bad from a Floater Jet...
...a gorgeous spectacle
Today was grey almost from start to finish, overcast with scattered showers. However, late in the day, the wind shifted to a warm northerly, clearing the west and developing the western clouds into a lovely assortment of types and altitudes.
The field was mostly empty so I quickly had the Floater Jet packaged with a camera and launched into the lovely afternoon sky to get some video of the sky show.
I'm a fan of mist and clouds; as regards the latter, particularly those interesting collections you get in the early morning or late evening, when shapes have developed in relative stillness. This evening was a charmer, a clear west showing the gradually sinking sun and a collection of clouds on the opposite horizon, an aerial canvas for the low angle of the sun to render in beautiful shades...
...unlikely but groovy Some while ago, while trying the throttle with the Floater Jet on the ground, it occurred to me that, since the Floater has a high-mounted prop, it would be feasible to take it off from the ground. Theoretically anyway.
Without undercarriage, however, and just a smooth-bottomed fuselage, control on the ground wouldn't be very good. Also, as my first attempts showed, the Floater can tend to skid around, especially if the controls aren't all centred, as I sometime have them in order to keep it trimmed straight for power flight. Nevertheless, as you can see from the Floater's take-off run, ground launch is possible and a novel change to the usual hand-launch. And its pretty cool as well...
...for a bird's eye view The search and rescue mission for the flown by the Phoenix to try and locate theStinger EDFunfortunately drew a blank; a few maybe's but nothing definitive, with a subsequent foray through the paddocks on foot found nothing either. Therefore a second reconnaissance mission was required, this time using the Floater Jet with the Mobius mounted on its nose. The sloping mounting provided look-down capability, something missing from the Phoenix's wing-top placement, and additionally provided an obscured field of view.
The weather was, unfortunately, not conducive to the structured coverage of the field I had hoped for, with the warm and gusty weather making flying the Floater hazardous and doing low passes even more so. As a result the flying was haphazard, battling to keep the Floater flying level while maintaining an even altitude, although desirable, was out of the question. In fact, from the video, it's clearly apparent that the Floater was skimming over fences and brushing the grass tops at stages. About halfway through it's search, a pale speck showed on the extreme edge of the the video image. Having checked numerous specks already without success I was doubtful this would amount to anything, particularly being out of the search zone. Zooming in on the speck it took some form and appeared to have a vertical black stripe. Looking closer it also seemed to have faint hints of something horizontal on either side.
Zooming again the appearance of a circle in between seemed to cement the realisation that I'd actually managed to locate the Stinger. The next day, after twenty minutes of wandering around the paddock trying to match the video clip orientation, I finally found it...
...camera at the ready Having packed the Floater Jet it seemed opportune to load it up with the camera and give it a fly for a scenic tour around the lake.
The brisk northerly, however, made this anything but a simple exercise, having to launch the Floaterover the lake without having it ending up, well, floating in the lake. Fortunately the Floater launched OK and soon powered over the lake against the gusty breeze.
I'm always fascinated at the different perspective provided by the aerial camera, obviously the same reason that people want to fly FPV, and the view of the lake and trees spreading out below the Floater as it climbed in the sunny blue skies was both intriguing and lovely. The approach to landing seemed impossibly high however, as is clear and evidence of the headwind the Floater was experiencing, it worked out ok although it did end up a little close to the rubbish bin...
...still looks dodgy but goes a little better Having run the Phoenix 1600 fitted with the Floater Jet motor on large prop for a couple of flights, it was clear that things were not well. Although the motor would launch the glider OK, after a while I could hear the motor skipping. Checking the specs, its speed rating is 2150kv compared to 1050kv, more than twice as fast, which explains the difficulty it was experiencing trying to spin the big 10.5x6 prop.
I swapped it over to the 6x5 prop I had been using on the Floater Jet and found things to be a bit happier - still under-powered but at least the motor was running true. However the appearance was rather unlovely so, having noticed a tweeter housing I'd set aside thinking it might be useful for something, I set about crafting a cowling for the front-mounted motor. Surprisingly, things went rather well, and I fitted the cowling on with tack adhesive for convenience. It now looks like a 60's power glider fitted with an old-fashioned nose-job. While looking less ugly, it also seems to make the gliderfly more efficiently - not more thrust but the battery now holds up for longer.
I've ordered a replacement motor, having abandoned hope of Hobbyking quickly processing my warranty claim. That will arrive next week, giving thePhoenix the power it deserves...
...all lit up and ready to go I finally received the extra set of LED strip lights for the underside of my Floater Jet after what seemed like a minor eternity. I needed these for the underside of the wings as, while the LED's on the wings and along the sides of the fuselage looked really impressive in the study, it soon became apparent when I'd got the Lightship Mk1 into the air that under-wing illumination was an absolute necessity. This is especially so as at the local field, being bordered by trees, flights are generally above treetop level to avoid awkward situations.
Anyway, the Floater Jet is decked out and ready to go, along with its new 6x5 prop. The latter works well, making it easier to launch, I think due to the larger prop-wash area of the wing, and also make cruising quieter as it develops quite a bit more thrust (about 20% more at low throttle and 40% more at full throttle)....
...waiting for a calm evening Anticipating the successful restoration of the Floater Jet I'd splashed out and purchased a Lumifly LED system, comprising a controller, manual switch and four half-metre white LED strips. I also got a small 1000mAh 2S battery, one which has with the small red connector whose official designation I don't know but it's not the regular yellow XT connector. Packaging these additional components into the Floater's nose was a challenge to say the least, and also raised a concern about it becoming excessively nose-heavy with all the extra gear packed up-front. First of all, to clear some space and transfer a little weight backward, I pushed the receiver right back into the rear of the fuselage where the ESC resides. To ensure no loss of signal will all the gear on board I made a hole in the side of the fuselage and taped the antenna to the outside. I didn't bother with a satellite receiver as I'm not planning to let the Floater stray too far from base these days...
With limited space between the battery and servos, I opted to lay the extra battery flat on top of the main unit and placed the LED controller on top of thisheld in place by velcro tabs. I also pushed the whole lot as far rearward as possible for better weight distribution. The LED strips, which are not the self-adhesive kind, I taped onto the wing and fuselage with clear tape placed in between the LED's themselves. The result is quite spectacular when viewed in low light, with each strip having five high-intensity LED's shining a clear white light. The kit comes with four strips as standard but I'll be adding another pair to the underside of the wings for better visibility from below.
With all this gear on board I was understandably a little nervous regarding how the Floater would respond, particularly on launch with its unfortunate predisposition for nose-diving into the ground. Well, having tried a few launches with success, I can happily say it manages the extra weight with little apparent effect. One does still require care not to launch with excess power and to be ready with the elevator as it noses down on launch, but otherwise it flies pretty much as well as ever. The characteristic porpoise effect is still there as a result of the large disparity between powered and unpowered flight regimes. However it's at its happiest when gliding, its large wing area allowing it to float peacefully and silently as if magically transformed into some sort of ethereal whisp...
...break out the superglue
Works to restore the Floater Jet to flying condition have commenced, with encouraging progress having already been made.
The tape holding the nose together has been removed revealing a heavily distorted shape with a multitude of rips and gaps in the foam. Also the pushrods to the tail have been bent to a degree I thought was beyond repair. However, having focussed some attention on these, I have managed to straighten them and repair a split in one of the sleeves. Testing the servos has shown one of the tail servos appears to have stripped a gear, so that will need to be replaced too, however that is a fairly minor matter.
The main problem I had was the drying of the super glue - without accelerator it would sometimes take a day or two for repairs in some of the heavily damaged areas to dry, making the reconstruction painfully slow. Having repaired most of the nose I abandoned the prospect of a quick return to the skies the project for a few days and was rewarded with a fully cured and reasonably straight fuselage when I next checked. The repair of the severed tail had similar issues, however patience was rewarded by a nicely bonded fracture, strong enough for the demands of flight.
As before I smoothed over the skin with tape for a cleaner look and additional strength - all ready to give the
As before I smoothed over the skin with tape for a cleaner look and additional strength - all ready to give the Floater a test flight...
I've been looking at new companions for the Phoenix 2000, craft that compliment the old girl without threatening the role of stately flyer. I've narrowed down the candidates (for now) to the anomalously-named Radjet 800pusher-prop and a small fun-fighter, the Rarebear. The latter seems an excellent proposition, capable of 120mph top speed with a 850mAh 4S 45C power pack for a very modest outlay. I must admit though that it is a little daunting, with the capability to fling itself into the ground or disappear from sight in a millisecond. The reviews of it, however, are enthusiastic and recommend it roundly. Comments that it flies on rail are most encouraging. The Radjet is another interesting proposition. Initially I was interested in getting it as a kit to transpose components from the crippled Floater Jet. However, having now located pushrods to replace the cracked and bent originals, I'm going to get the ready-to-roll version and hopefully get the Floater Jet into the air decked out in enough LED's to light up the neighbourhood. The tailless Radjet looks like a sprightly performer with a ridiculously-high roll rate and all-round enthusiastic performance. Looking forward to getting both...
what's going on...? I've encountered a mystifying problem when I connected the receiver on the Walrus to the control leads. The setup in this particular case was as easy as you get, with each lead having with a numeric tag and the receiver having corresponding labels. To make life even easier, the ESC already has an XT60 plug to connect straight to the battery. The only change I needed to make was to put an extension lead onto the control lead from the ESC, as this was just way too short.
However, when I powered it up nothing happened. Usually one hears a momentary chatter of the servos powering up, but this time absolutely nothing. To cut a long and most frustrating episode short, after having swapped ESC's and receivers to no avail, I have transplanted my six-channel receiver from the Floater with success. The Floater, by the way, is still resting in the study...
I haven't powered up the Floater Jet since the crash, so the extent of damage to servos receiver and controls is, as yet, undetermined. One of the tail servos had its control arm sheared off and the push-rod of the other is a bit bent. The wings look OK but the nose is in several pieces, held together only by the tape...
I’m thinking if that it might be salvageable, perhaps kitted it out as a night-flyer. However I'd like an immediate replacement so I at least have a backup if something goes wrong (hopefully not), leaving the reconstruction of the Floater as a longer-term project. I reckon I could piece the nose together with thin ply reinforcements and/or bamboo skewers as dowel pins. And superglue, of course, lots of superglue.
I’m thinking of getting another smaller plane - possibly a Walrus which I think looks good. Its not unlike the Floater, but with a front-mounted prop. Actually, having just watched video clips I think I definitely want one! It comes with flaps ready-to-go and seems to hang in the air so beautifully with them deployed.
Another thing I want is a video camera. I've been taking some photos, as you may've seen, although not without risk. However I think video footage while flying would be entertaining to watch, and might also let me get some closer footage of the kangaroos who are very shy of people but don’t seem at all bothered by the plane flying past!
So I think I'll be doing some shopping and looking forward to a parcel on my doorstep in a week or two...
The Phoenix 2000 had been resting nose-down against the wall ever since completion of repairs following its disastrous last flight. Walking into the study its presence served as a poignant reminder of the damage I'd inflicted. However its sleek graceful shape also provided aspiration that I might eventually develop skill enough to do it justice in the air.
That evening, its long-held position against the study wall was replaced by the terminally battered form of the Floater Jet.
The Phoenix took up the station on the desk, ready for final flight preparations. Deep breath, very excited...Working again with the Phoenix the great layout of its fuselage compared to the Floater became immediately obvious. The moulded fuselage, while not outwardly much wider than the Flyer has much more space due to its thin-walled nature. It also has a battery tray, meaning that the ESC and the battery can occupy the same zone. The tail servos are also well clear of the “busy” zone as the Phoenix has removable wings with these located directly under. Consequently there’s lots of room left to locate the receivers.
I attached the receiver itself to the sidewall with velcro and taped the antenna running forwards. It certainly looks very neat and is wonderfully accessible. The small satellite receiver I velcroed to the top of the fuselage just aft of the canopy, orientated across the plane. This layout fulfils what I understand to be the requirements for robust signal reception - receivers not blocked, with motors and batteries being the main culprits. Secondly the two antennas (single receiver antenna and satellite in this case) are orientated at 90 degrees to inhabit different radio environments, or something along those lines. So everything's fitted, and the Phoenix's ready to fly, once again...
The morning dawned very cold with the sports oval largely covered in frost. I had resurrected a pair of my abandoned cycling mitts to help keep my fingers warm. These had proved partially effective, although on mornings with temperatures hovering near freezing I had to call an end to the flying after ten minutes due to terminal finger ache. However on this particular day a spectacular pre-dawn colour show more than compensated for any discomfort.
I’d pretty much got flying the Floater down pat. Not perfect by any means but quite reasonable. The change of flight characteristics between powered & gliding flight was awkward although perhaps mostly because I had the aircraft trimmed for gliding or low-power flight which is my preference - seeing the Floater gliding past noiselessly in a low-level low-speed flypast is quite magical. And, when tempted, to open the throttle.
I had taken advantage of the sudden height gains to practice rudimentary aerobatics - loops being the, easiest although controlling the speed and tightness of the loop is more difficult. Fast tight loops look quite fake, and I much prefer a gentle swooping style. I had also managed a few wingovers, although again not the perfect type which verge on a stall at the apex.
Following a low flypast I throttled the Floater into a steep climb which peaked perhaps ten metres off the ground after which the Floater tilted its nose down. Deciding to maximise the situation, I pushed the Floater into an almost vertical dive and waited a second for speed to build up for a steep pull-out and a fast fly-by. The only problem was nothing happened. I released the elevator stick to neutral and tried again immediately. Still nothing. Resigned to the inevitable, I let go the controls and watched as the Floater thumped into the turf, did a cartwheel and then lay splayed on the ground.
Walking over to inspect the wreckage I was expecting it to be bad considering the speed and angle of the impact, and was not wrong. The canopy, very durable and flexible, had partially shattered, the much superglued nose was still held in place by the layers of tape but severely deformed with multiple fractures, and the tail boom had snapped through just behind the motor, held on only by the tail linkages. Gently holding the wreckage of the Floater together I traced my steps across the frosty grass back to the car...
...and a crisp landing! It was a very cold morning with the sky completely clear following an unprecedented run of cloudless weather, literally in the middle of winter. The field was consequently almost entirely covered in frost so I donned my jacket and mitts as added protection. I have been told that there is a transmitter glove that you can get (I see it's apparently called a transmitter glove) which encloses the radio and into which you insert your hands to keep warm! An interesting concept, although for now I am managing. However, for fliers in colder climes I can imagine this would be most attractive.
The Floater launched flawlessly, as it had got into the habit of doing, and climbed happily into the frosty air. I flew the usual circuit around the field, and then a little over the paddocks, cautious of the two hundred metre reception-limit that seemed to exist - I certainly didn't want to be tramping though soggy paddocks in freezing weather searching for my plane. The thought certainly generated empathy for the poor kangaroos, standing motionless on the frosty ground waiting for sunrise to warm them up.
By now, seldom ten minutes of flying later, my fingers had gone from being cold to being numb and aching. Before things got desperate I brought the Floateraround and lined up for a gentle finals approach. It touched down about ten metres over the fence and then, instead of the usual brief slide to standstill, it slid a full twenty metres across the frosty grass, making a delightfully crisp scratching sound. The most brilliant landing, ever...
Now, I like animals. Dogs and cats understandably top the list. Horses are nice, although large and intelligent is cause for concern until such time as their disposition has been reliably determined. Cattle, large and not terribly bright, are somewhere lower on the list, in the region of bull terriers and territorial eland.
Standing at the fence I pondered my situation - about fifty metres of tussocky paddock and a herd of beef cattle separated me from the downedFloater. Should I take the risk, slip in sprint for the glider and beat a hasty yet victorious exit. Or would I get halfway there, pique the interest of the herd and beat have to beat an ignominious and fearful retreat without my property. A quick mental risk assessment determined the risk of the latter to be high and the consequences potentially severe (who wants to get charged before work and have to explain your appearance), so I headed back to the car pondering what to do...
Bear Grylls Techniques Actually Work! The novelty of having successfully launched and briefly flown the plane proved irresistible. So on reaching the field again, a little scratched by brambles but otherwise none the worse, the Floater was given a quick look over, retrimmed to correct some bank I'd noticed on the flight and pronounced fit for action.
Another successful launch (good lord, was I actually getting the hang of this!) and the Floaterwas airborne again for the second time in a morning. This time I kept things on a tighter reign, using moderate throttle and keeping the flight within the bounds of the field.
Moderate flight techniques and careful trim adjustment had revealed the nature of the Floater's; With throttle chopped after launch, the craft floated magically and silently over the field, the frosty stillness broken occasionally by the squeak of the servos. For someone with such a chequered and disappointing introduction to the art of RC flying as myself, this was an absolute revelation, magic captured in silent tranquil flight.
Such magic required capturing, of course, delight to be relived. I plunged my hand into my pocket for my phone and frantically scrabbled to get the camera active. TheFloatercontinued to float ethereally across the field. Now I concentrated on the phone, feverishly clicked the icon and lifted the phone to capture the beautiful flight. TheFloaterhad of course by now crossed most of the field and was heading serenely towards the trees encircling the field.
Pocketing the phone in a hurry I grabbed the transmitter again in both hands and rapidly put theFloaterinto a left turn, silhouetting its form against the still-dark form of the trees in the pre-dawn light. Adding a little power to compensate for the bank all appeared well and my actions appeared timely as theFloater began to climb gently.
This happy scene was rudely interrupted as theFloaterembedded itself in the branches of a moderately large eucalypt.
Two things. The poor depth perception of trees in simulators is apparently quite real. Secondly, attempting to capture ethereal moments may lead to disappointment.
Approaching the border of the field the scale of the task ahead was immediately apparent - theFloaterwas perched about two thirds of the way up the tree, many metres out of reach. The tree had a sheer trunk, branching only several metres from the ground making it virtually impossible to climb. An adjacent tree provided the prospect of access to shake some branches and possibly loose the craft.
Quickly climbing through the branches, for a record second time that morning, I reached over to give the branch a vigorous shake. The Floaterwobbled sufficiently to dislodge its canopy but otherwise stuck fast. Climbing down I sought a large branch and returned to the tree. After my third or fourth attempt at poking theFloaterdown the only course of action was clear - to climb across to the large tree itself. This achieved by taking a deep breath and leaning precariously across, I edged higher and out with my stick, saying a silent but deeply felt prayer that the branch would hold. Yet, despite my greatest efforts, theFloaterwas too far out. Time to go.
Starting to climb down, the three metres of sheer tree trunk below me looked impossible to negotiate. No branches to clamber down to, too high to jump (for me anyway), so what to do. Now, memories of Mr Grylls using bear-style descents popped into my head. Did that really work, I mean for normal people? Could I manage that successfully, bearing in mind that once committed to grabbing onto the trunk there was no going back. Seeing that there was no other option, I slid my legs down and around the trunk, then let go of the branch above, grabbed the trunk and anticipated a precipitous and painful descent.
In fact I found myself suspended with remarkably little effort. It appeared that the locking effect of my legs and shoes pushing on the trunk were largely sufficient to hold my weight, and the by loosening grip bit by bit, I could slide down under the guiding control of my arms around the trunk. Remarkably then I found myself at the base of the tree unharmed, and a few brushes with my hand had my trousers in an approximately passable state for work.
TheFloaterwas still wedged fast, but a return visit tomorrow with a bamboo and pipe assembly would fix that...
Months had passed with the Floater Jet languishing on the desk in the study, its slightly bent, super-glued nosecone giving it a rather sad and neglected air.
Following consecutive crashes with the elegant Phoenix 2000, I'd rather lost the nerve to fly it. And now having crashed the trainer as well I was struggling with what best to do next.
As ever, it the web that provided an answer. Or, in this case, provided confirmation of a conclusion I had gradually formed regarding both theFloaterand thePhoenix. Despite the Floaterbeing a basic trainer, I realised it possessed a quite different characteristic to the Phoenix. Diametrically opposite, in fact.
The Phoenix was possessed of the alarming characteristic of heading for the clouds under power. The Floaterhowever, due to the moment created by its high-mounted engine, had the opposite characteristic of pitching down under power. Especially at launch when the wings were yet to generate sufficient lift to counteract it. The secret, it turns out, was to launch with moderate power until the Floaterwas, well, flying!
So it was that, one crisp autumn morning, I found myself with Flyer in-hand nervously contemplating a large field surrounded by bushland. It was one of those moments where nerves dominate and one cannot really prepare. So, with battery connected and radio on, I lobbed the Floaterinto the chilled morning air. Success! No crunching nose-dive to the ground! No disassembling wings! No ejected canopy! Instead the Floaterjust glided off, a little wobbly at first, on its first real flight. Gaining confidence, I gave it near full throttle to climb, then backed off for a peaceful glide. It turned out to be not quite as peaceful as I'd anticipated; theFloaterfloated off towards a nearby rise, apparently oblivious to the control inputs. Perhaps the distance was confusing - had I lost the aircraft's orientation? However it was nonetheless evident that I'd lost control. Deciding not to risk exacerbating the situation with random inputs, I abandoned the controls and headed off across the field as I watched theFloaterdescended in lazy circles towards the hilltop. Now for me this was a novel situation. At seven thirty in the morning, well before the sun had bothered the horizon, I found myself heading across a dewy field, negotiating barbed wire fences, marshy flats and tousled grassy slopes. This was certainly a more entertaining start to the day than usual.
As I approached the crest of the hill I looked around for signs of my craft. Having walked a few hundred metres and out of sight of the launch point, I wasn't too sure where the Floatermight be. However, giving the throttle lever a prod, I was immediately rewarded by a buzz a little way off to my left - theFloaterwas alive! Encouraged by this happy turn of events I headed off at pace. As I neared I buzzed the throttle again, but now my attention was unexpectedly drawn upwards. The stark silhouette of a smallish tree revealed theFloater, perched several metres up in a small tree.
Now I must admit it has been a long time since I climbed a tree. However, undeterred by lack of practice and less so by the fact I was dressed for work, I clambered up. Fortunately the low-branching nature of the tree was most accommodating and I was soon able to free theFloaterfrom the branches and drop it to ground. A few minutes later, feeling buoyed by a sense of achievement, I headed down the hill with plane in hand.
