...much better This morning, after carting the DC-3 around in the car for two days, I finally had the opportunity to get the Dak into the air again with an immaculate morning; clear blue skies and absolutely still. I'd decided that it needed flaps for take-off and perhaps then, once up to speed, retracting flaps and flying clean would be OK. As it turned out, I left the flaps on for the whole flight as it was flying quite happily with them deployed, and the additional lift transformed the Dak into a lovely easy flyer.
The Dynam DC-3 doesn't actually have flaps, but using dualaileron mix and plugging the aileron servos in separately you get flaps automatically configured, although I needed a bit of messing around with reversing to get everything working as it should. I'm still a little concerned that it needs flaps and elevator trim to keep flying, so I might adjust the centre of gravity for the next flight and see how it goes; I think I'm at the front limit of what's suggested when it seems like I should be at the back. At the moment the Dak simply plummets when you cut power, which makes it a nerve-wracking proposition if the battery runs low...
...the pocket rocket is fixed I have resolved the issue of the missing Rarebear aileron using good old balsa, a material I haven't used for years. The issue was getting something that was light, easily workable and could be attached to the EPO. With EPO sheet not available, as far as I know, balsa was the best option, readily available in a range of sizes.
For the repair I selected for 4mm sheet, which required just a bit of filing to match the profile of the aileron edge. I used a plastic hinge to attach it, as well as taping up the edges of the repaired and original to avoid repeat problems. I also pinned the balsa prosthetic to the EPO aileron using, well, sections of steel pins (ie large sewing needle) which are stiff and thin. Hitting this lot with a bit of appliance white spray will have the podgy speedster good as new...
...tape up those controls I had been flying the Rarebear at about half power until I got used to the diminutive craft's behaviour, and also until I was sufficiently used to identifying its orientation, something I'd found difficult in the low-light conditions when I typically fly. As such, I headed out to the field one sunny afternoon after work, to give the Rarebeara workout over the wide spaces of the paddock. In the sunlight the Rarebearis much easier to make out, and soon I had the little plane buzzing on three-quarter throttle, marvelling at it's agility and ability to make astonishingly sharp turns. Suddenly I heard an intense fluttering which ended in an abrupt noise, and then silence. Not knowing what had happened, I cut power and coasted the Rarebearinto a big bank bringing it back to the field.
Getting back to the plane the cause of the noise was immediately apparent, or rather it was conspicuous by its absence; about a third of the right aileron had been completely sheared off. The aileron foam hinge must've developed a crack at the end and, with the high-G maneuvers, resulted in a section of the control peeling up. Exposed to the airstream, this had fluttered violently and eventually ripped off. Unfortunately, having been flying over the high grass of the the paddocks, the piece of foam was lost...
...finally getting Radjet launches under control This morning was exquisite, starting out misty across the fields as I flew the Phoenix in lazy loops and low passes, before clearing almost imperceptibly so that, by the time I headed back with two depleted batteries, the morning was clear and crisp as you could possibly imagine.
Today I scored a major victory of the small-step variety - I launched the Radjet without crashing. However it wasn't just the fact that it launched it successfully, but morehow I launched it that was significant: it was the first successful launch with opposite aileron. And it was very successful, launching on about one third power with about the same degree of opposite lock, the Radjetbuzzed off happily, in an almost perfectly straight line. I was that flabbergasted that I left it for a bit long, then flipped onto full power causing it to jink left.
These, however, were minor issues and, managing to quickly correct the attitude, theRadjetsoared into the crisp morning air, relishing the novelty of an outing without incurring structural damage. The little buzzy jet flew beautifully, the latest restoration being sufficiently rejuvenating that I could actually reduce the amount of elevator trim with which I usually fly. However, having suffered through multiple impacts, the Radjetis now not without vices; pulling a little too much G will cause a high-speed stall, and I suspect more than that may result in an irrecoverable spin...
...and others of a similar nature I've been having idle thoughts of procuring a Stinger 64 Jet for my flying pleasure and, as such, have been watching some footage of its flight and launch.One thing which has struck me watching launches of this creature is a twitch to the left a few seconds after it's in the air. Now, knowing the characteristics of the Radjet (the familiar snap-roll to the left), and imagining similar behaviour from the diminutive Stinger, I surmise this crafty has been launched with right aileron which input, once flight is stabilised, is released, explaining the hint of roll to the left.
This, in turn, suggests to me that I should attempt to employ a similar device on the launch of aRadjet. Now, thus far, my guiding principle has been to minimise the torque reaction from the propellor and therefore circumvent any need for loading up the wings during this critical phase. However, considering the chequered results of this philosophy, I think I'll conduct an explorative regime of roll-corrected launches to test the effect of said input, as well as any potential deleterious reactions...
...to see if I can sort the aileron issue I had a go at trying to fix my other transmitters issue with chatter on the aileron control. After having seen instructions on how to disassemble the DX6i while I was reading through that controller's instruction manual, I bit the bullet and decided to have a go with the other. There are six screws at the rear of the unit which need to be undone, then you simply pivot the back down at the bottom and lay it down flat. There is sufficient cable length to make this easy, and it's obviously how they assemble it.
What was immediately clear, however, was that replacing the potentiometer on the aileron control would not be easy - it's well integrated and unfortunately not easy to disassemble. That's why there doesn't seem to be any spares on offer, at least for this particular unit, with the exception of a replacement antenna, which simply slots into place.
...put a pin in it The pin had somehow fallen out of the antenna joint on my DX5e, meaning the end piece would often come loose while setting the angle. I wasn't sure where I could find a replacement pin and didn't want to have to buy a whole antenna replacement kit.
Foraging around in the cupboard I came across a cheap household fasteners kit, which included a slim black nail, a near perfect fit for the hole, slightly tight so it wouldn't fall out. It was a little too long, but a quick trim with a pair of side cutters sorted that out. Now the DX5e's antenna's sorted out, I hope I can fix the chatter issue with a bit of a clean-up of the aileron potentiometer...
...and dental surgery for the Phoenix Having had to fight for parking at the local shops, I returned to the car victorious carrying a long parcel containing a Walrus, a spare propeller and a diminutive RD32 video camera. Additionally, although entirely unrelated, a loaf of crusty bread to be enjoyed with a glass of wine and some lovely lamb stew that evening.
Unpacking the box reveals the portliness of the Walrus is not overstated - I'm actually unsure how people with small hands launch it? The quality of the parts looks very good and having the decals applied gives the kit a nice finished look. I recall the Phoenix assembly being described as taking fifteen minutes - I think it took me longer than that just to apply the decals...
On the subject of the Phoenix, I was wondering how the removal of the aileron servos would be accomplished. I first tried levering them out with a blade without success, soon restoring to my shift-grips (I have no idea what they are actually called...). I found that holding the servos at one end, they could be twisted out in a matter of seconds with no apparent damage to the wing cavity. A technique I think remarkably analogous to dental extraction, except quicker, cleaner and without the pain...
As regards the video camera I am yet to discover how it works, although I have installed the flash card and put it on charge. I have also fiddled with the control buttons but have no idea what they do. I will download the installation manual now and figure out how to drive it.
So, with a little luck, tomorrow I'll have the Phoenix airworthy and a charged camera ready to fly? Maybe...
...a disappointing morning Following yesterdays morning rain, the day cleared to clear blue skies. Consequently this morning was very cold, with frosty grass and hints of mist about the fields. The air was still and I was looking forward to trying the Phoenix in "sports mode" with a little down-trim.
Powering-up the Phoenix I went through the usual regime of control checks - elevator, rudder, aileron , flaps. This morning, however, the ailerons were definitely not paying attention. Almost since I got the plane the wing servos have chattered. I don't know why - all the servos were the same type of factory-installed units, but these two in particular have been chatty. Anyway, the erratic aileron response meant flying was out of the question - well turning anyway. Powering off and on, a faint hope, produced the same random response so, feeling a little deflated, I carried the Phoenix back to the car across the crunchy grass...
...collateral damage by stupidity
Having returned home, I was overcome by a profound sadness at having inflicted such wanton damage to such a lovely aircraft. It was like a nice pet being given to a bad home, and I was the culprit. Oh dear.
It may seem silly but I really felt gutted by the sequence of events; the effort I'd made, aspirations thwarted and damaged caused for no gain. A sorry waste for no benefit at all.
I pondered the situation and decided on two things. Firstly, as damaged as the Phoenixwas it was still repairable to a flying state. Secondly, I would get a smaller and more novice-friendly aircraft.
For thePhoenix it was spares-shopping and improvisation. The nylon fuselage was up-ended in a jug of boiling water and left overnight, in the hope that relief of residual stresses would help to straighten up the wrinkles.
The original kit had included a fixed spinner, if no motor were to be used. This I modified to adapt to the spinner-base and to clear the propellor mounts. The battery tray, which had shattered most impressively, I tried to reconstitute after the fashion of a jigsaw-puzzle but then abandoned as folly, fabricating another out of modelling ply.
The wings mounts I superglued together and reinforced with fibreglass mesh. Ailerons were remounted, using hinges to replaced the ruptured EPO hinge and, as a bonus, I "activated" the moulded-in flaps giving them the same hinge treatment as the ailerons and installing servos in the ready-moulded wing recesses. A new battery to replace the compacted original 1800mAh completed the repair process.
Now all I needed was the skill to fly the recreatedPhoenix...
Having repaired the glider (which had a wing mount cracked) and given some consideration to the events of the previous morning, I headed out again with the Phoenix 2000. Following the less-than-successful second flight, expectations for an early crash were high amongst the observers.
The field this time was larger - three fields end-to-end although shared with walkers and kids at one end and an informal soccer at the other. A little nervous. No, make that very nervous. And uncertain. Here goes.
The launch this time is fine, gliding across the field and a making a turn to the right. Coming back the glider dips in the turn so I push up the throttle, but too much. The Phoenixturns its spinner to the heavens in a now-familiar manner, and I panic, cutting the throttle I wait for the nose to come down...
Now, having learned from the previous morning's exercise, I know not to leave the glider to drop on its own as I know it won't have time to recover. So now, as the nose dips, I add power with the expectation that the airspeed will increase rapidly and the big propellor will whisk thePhoenixinto a climb; all will be well. Except unfortunately not. It's a repeat of the previous day's crash, except faster and much more destructive. The spinner was smashed, the front of the nylon moulded fuselage reduced to a crumple zone. Both wings were also broken at the mountings, and incredibly the ailerons had snapped their moulded hinges, hanging limply from the control arms.
Looking around I saw that the canopy, jettisoned by the battery as it ejected from the cockpit, lying on the grass a few metres away. To complete the scenario the battery had been concertined in and was now about a third shorter than its original state.
Making light of the event, I picked up thePhoenix, collected the debris and headed back to the car...
