Hot & Low

...summer has settled in

Yes, the hot weather has well and truly arrived, with sweltering episodes thankfully interspersed with the occasional cool day. Rain, of any significant nature, has been long absent and the garden is parched.

The mornings lately have, however, been idyllic for flying - cool and calm and either clear or with a few scattered clouds around. I'd previously taken the Radjet a few days ago and enjoyed putting it through it's paces.

The poor thing is well and truly battered however, with the balance now sorted and me having a better understanding of its launch characteristics (although I'm still not a hundred percent confident with launch, although I haven't had a failure for a while), it's an entertaining little beast to fly. Don't let it get too far away though, as it's orientation can be hard to distinguish.

This morning, though, I took the Floater Jet out for a spin. Not the most dynamically inspiring beat ever to grace the skies, but it does do one thing well - flying slowly. So that's what I did, floating the Jet low over the paddocks, skimming the grass tufts and flying slalom around the trees and bushes.

Wildly exciting; no, not really. Very peaceful and enjoyable; most certainly...

Floater Jet Gusting

...a brief flight of hopefulness

Today was going to be warm, so it wasn't entirely unexpected that the morning was already a bit breezy by the time I got to the field. I had opted for the Floater Jet today as it fit's more comfortably into the car so was less likely to suffer thermal effects than the Walrus. The Radjet was, of course, in for routine maintenance (crash repairs).

Eager to get into the air I rated the weather flyable and readied the Floater for an outing. This was the first time I'd had a camera on the Floater, and was interested to see the the difference from having the camera in front of the prop. The fresh northerly would assist getting the plane launched, the Floater's Achilles' heel, so that was good...

The good feeling lasted several seconds until the Floater climbed a few metres into the mainstream breeze, at which point its characteristically floaty nature disappeared out of the window. Things were clearly quite gusty above tree-level, and after a few busy seconds of trying to steady the craft, I was convinced that today really wasn't the best day to fly and I turned the Floater into a landing circuit.

Despite the considerable altitude the plane had achieved, understandable when flying into that much of a headwind, I was surprisingly able to land it straight ahead, quite evident from the camera footage.

Having watched the video I can tell you that, while there's no buffeting from the propwash, the Floater's annoying noise prop noise is still dominant, perhaps not unexpectedly as I mounted the camera just ahead of the engine pod. I have a couple of propellor options on their way, however, with a 6x4 triple blade to be followed shortly by a 6x5 twin blade. I am hopeful that, while generating more thrust, these might also abate the dreadful droning.

Having successfully brought the plane down, the final foot or two of descent were a little less successful, with the Floater bumping down onto the turf a little roughly. No damage done, fortunately, although you do get an insiders view of the rather busy workings of the cockpit, crammed with batteries, controller and wiring for the lighting...

All Lit Up

...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 this held 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...

Floater Jet Reconstruction

...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...

Where to Next

...contemplating the future

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 800 pusher-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 to Learn to Fly With

...in my experience

AXN Floater Jet
Conventional wisdom suggests that pusher planes are ideal trainers, the mid-mounted motor and propellor being well protected.

However, my experience with this configuration in the Floater Jet has been annoying for two reasons:

• They want to fly into the ground when you launch them
• The flight characteristics vary with speed and acceleration

While the prop and motor are protected, the counterintuitive flight characteristics mean you end up crashing the nose. A lot. My example is now destroyed but the propellor and motor are still immaculate. My feeling is that if this thing flew more predictably you wouldn't end up crashing it so often...


Phoenix 2000
I had read somewhere that an important factor in choosing a training aircraft is to get a large one so that visibility and orientation is easier.

My experience with the Phoenix has been mixed:

• They head straight up if you launch them with too much power
• The flight characteristics vary with speed and acceleration

Completely alarming on takeoff to the inexperienced, it also responds very slowly to turns due to its long wingspan, and is susceptible to gusts for the same reason. Similarly, it's large frontal area and high-lift wings mean it doesn't do well flying into headwinds - it goes up as far as it goes forward.

Although an 1800mAh battery is the largest suggested, I'd definitely put a 2200mAh pack up front to weigh the nose down, especially for beginner pilots. It also gives you more power to manage tight situation easier.


Hobbyking Walrus

Someone made a comment on a forum that the Walrus wouldn't really be a trainer plane. I don't know why not, as this is the most benign of the three aircraft I've flown.

• They launch and fly as you'd expect, whether under power or not
• They're manoeuvrable but are as stable as you could hope

The standard propellor is crappy, but replacer that with a carbon 10x6 along with a 2200mAh battery and you have a nice performing all-rounder.

Lanyu Trainstar
The Trainstar is a fun and engaging plane to fly, however again I don't know that I'd choose this as a beginner's plane unless you are being tutored by an experienced pilot. 

The Trainstar is difficult to keep straight during takeoff, can give you a bend prop adapter if you don't keep the tail down and can be a little challenging to fly, like when it tightens in sharp turns.

Having said that, if you can negotiate it's peculiarities, you'll be rewarded with a fun and characterful plane to fly.

Programmable Transmitter
I've found it very useful to have a programmable transmitter, as this allows you to vary the stick sensitivity (expo), alter the transmitting power and also vary servo travel, none of which can be done with a basic transmitter. 

The expo helps make sensitive aircraft more manageable and the travel setting is great for things like setting flap deployment.

In a Flap

...and a bit of flying

I managed to get the Walrus up this morning, although the breeze was already starting to pick up by that time.

I had a minor incident this morning when I accidentally launched with flaps deployed. I must have snagged the lever, most likely when setting the throttle for launch. Anyway, it went up fine, as you would expect with the extra lift, but then went very floaty and nose-up, a bit like the Floater Jet flies.

I turned it around  into the wind when I spotted that the flaps were deployed, immediately explaining its strange behaviour, so I just shut off the power and pushed the nose down to bring the Walrus in for an unscheduled landing.

A quick check there were no other issues and the Walrus was back in the air, climbing steeply into the steady breeze then turning into a large bank over the paddock with the cattle enjoying their breakfast. The strong breeze quickly pushed the glider downwind and my efforts to bring it back were making little success.

Trimming the nose down a little helped it push through the breeze more successfully, and I felt most relieved as it again approached the field. As always, losing track of the Walrus' orientation at distance is a constant risk, and I'm sure the odd false input will be evident in the videos!

The final bit of fun was trying to get the Walrus down. Having successfully cleared the fence without collecting either the tree or posts I deployed the flaps to steady things down and hopefully settle the Walrus down with the extra drag. However the clean air-frame, even with the RD32 camera atop, continued to surf the breeze until it was clear I wasn't going to make landfall before I reached the bank, so I powered round in a mini circuit for another go, the flaps making the downwind transition flawless. 

I eventually got it down, next to the almost-empty duck pond, a good end to some challenging  flying in the breeze...

Safe and Sound?

...or flying on the edge

Having gone through the process again of building up the Walrus from scratch I have a new appreciation for the amount of effort required to get it to 100% flying state. First appearances would indicate otherwise, but there are fiddly bits to contend with, and of course there are always mistakes you make along the way.

Which begs the question, should you always fly conservatively to guard your investment. Or should you push the envelope on the basis that, if you never try anything, your skills will never develop. Well I'm not sure now. Having mastered basic flight with the Floater, I was wanting to push it a bit to explore more of the Walrus' flight envelope and try new maneuvers that I'd previously not considered due to the risk.

However, since having totalled two aircraft, I'm considering whether safe and sound is better, along with a more pedestrian rate of skill improvement. Just enjoy the flying without having to be a master at it. I must say I have missed the mornings at the field, the beautiful sunrises and the friendly fauna of the paddocks.

So I am hoping to get the Walrus in the air this week, although the boisterous breezes of spring seem to be evident more and more. However I'm hoping for a morning calm enough to risk throwing the Walrus up and enjoying a bit of morning tranquillity...

Why's there No Power?

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...

Future Flyer

...another plane, another project

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...

Resurrecting the Phoenix

Time to take the Plunge

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...

Final Flight of the Flyer

...well, for now anyway

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...

Frosty Flight

...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 Floater around 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...

Dangerous Cattle and Signal Loss

...pondering the cause of so few landings

At work, I did a web search on the dangers of cattle, and you may be surprised at the results, Agriculture is regarded as a dangerous occupation, with cattle being the second highest cause of injury, second only to farm implements. The article read that encounters with cattle might lead to minor injuries such as broken bones or more serious maladies such as punctured organs or broken neck. Two things became immediately apparent - these people had a fundamentally different perspective on the seriousness of various injuries, and I was definitely not going to be foraging for my plane in the midst of a herd of devil cows.

Nontheless I could not relinquish the Floater so vapidly, so I determined to return during my lunch break and reassess the situation. In the meantime I had opportunity to ponder what had happened that morning and, so it now seemed, also on the Floater second maiden flight. However it must be said that disorientation, although not responsible in these cases, is remarkably easy to suffer from and can be very difficult to recover from.

It seemed certain that there really was a signal-loss issue, as opposed to ignorance or gross incompetence, so I set about considering what should be done. There were several potential root causes. For now I discounted the transmitter - although budget basic it's new and the only "reputable" brand item I have (boxed with the flight simulator).

The second was the speed controller, a unit supplied with the Phoenix and, judging by reviews I'd read, a potential candidate. Speed controllers also supply power to the receiver, so it stands to reason that a dodgy power supply would equate to interrupted reception.

The final suspect was the receiver, a budget unit bought online. However this unit had the facility to connect a satellite receiver which could be a possible solution. As I happened to have a spare satellite receiver sitting around I decided to go this route. For now, however, I decided to return to the flying filed during my lunch break and hope that some miracle might happen to allow me to retrieve the Floater without flouting with death.

Arriving at the field, now bathed in sunshine, I was amazed to see the paddocks devoid of any cattle whatsoever. Amazing! Looking around I spied a hillock perhaps half a kilometre away, now dotted with the black forms of grazing cattle. How good was that. Wasting no time I hopped through the fence and dashed off in the direction where the Floater was last seen heading. Having got about halfway I easily spied a white wingtip above the grass - a definite bonus of having a large foam aircraft is they are so easy to spot.

A quick look around confirmed the cattle had not returned, although my behaviour was being anxiously observed by the resident kangaroos who, upright and with ears pricked, weren't going to let down their guard until I was well away. So, before the cattle decided to return and to allow the kangaroos to return to their lunch in peace, I turned towards the fence and headed for the car...

...We Have a Problem

...why've I lost control again..?

The flurry of treetop activity led me to explore more appropriate venues. Happily I found a sports field not far away, adjacent to grazing paddocks, with open fields extending several hundred metres in either direction - plenty of space to retrieve lost aircraft in peace without having to leave the ground. Also a decided lack of people, especially at seven o'clock on a winter's morning - an excellent feature for reducing liability.

So a day or two later I arrived with the Floater Jet and high hopes of happy flying. The craft launched successfully and I flew it a few tentative laps around the field to settle my nerves before giving it some throttle to see how it behaved under powered climb. 

The Floater launched itself upwards with a bit of a spiral as it rose upwards, its propellor buzzing busily. Having climbed quite a bit I cut the throttle to enjoy a serene gliding descent. But once again, that simultaneously sinking and alarming sensation of things being suddenly and inexplicably out of control. Fortunately the Floater was drifting down in slow spirals over the paddocks and not near the busy arterial road on the opposite side of the field...

So, with a sense of déjà vu I strode across the sports field sans aircraft, to the barbed wire fence bordering the paddock. Now I should explain that the morning was cold and with an unusually heavy low mist cloaking the paddocks, although relatively clear over the field where I had been flying. It was with some alarm then, that as I approached the boundary ready to do battle with the fence I began to discern a dark motionless shape looming through the mist. A few steps more and with furtive glances to my left and right I was aghast to see now perhaps a dozen black humps - a herd of cattle.

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 downed Floater. 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...

Treeclimbing Techniques

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  Floater was 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. The Floater  continued 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. The Floater  had 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 the Floater  into 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 the Floater   began to climb gently.

This happy scene was rudely interrupted as the Floater  embedded 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 - the Floater was 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 Floater  wobbled 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 the Floater  down 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, the Floater  was 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.

The Floater  was still wedged fast, but a return visit tomorrow with a bamboo and pipe assembly would fix that...