CHARLY BOOTH

If you have spent some time on launch lately you may have met Charly Booth.

Since I have got to know him I have found that he is a great pilot and a great guy and he has certainly influenced the friendly atmosphere on the hill of late.

Not only that he has been working on the lawns on launch, controlling the lamandra, putting in soil that he organised the council to supply, planting new grass and bringing his own 75m hose and watering the grass at dawn.

Thanks Charly!

I asked him to put in a pilot profile for the website and he sent back the following with pictures...

Pilot Profile Charly Booth
Three very sporty and active Czech immigrants (to Germany)  got me into flying, Without their help and friendship I'd never have made it. And it was only because there was soft snow on the ground (we learnt on skis)   that I entertained the idea of going with them into this crazy wild adventure.  If there'd been hard ground,  I'd never have taken up flying !    Realising that I just might NOT kill myself  (in those early days hg was really dangerous) ,   I ventured higher into the Swiss alps, and there I found the real adventure of flying. Subsequently, after befriending a couple of local Swiss guys  (who took this "Crocodile Dundee" oddity under their wings), I took out a Swiss flying licence, from the SHV.  Quite often the most dangerous part of the flying there was driving up the small ice covered alpine roads, to the start site, And, before one could start, we'd often have to prepare a "start run" in the soft snow by trampling the snow with our boots.  A "sleddy" often meant ending up some 15 km down the valley from where you'd started, completely frozen stiff,  and seeking refuge in a warm restaurant, until the others came to pick you up  !     Starts from 3000m were occasionally on the agenda, and one had to be really fit to carry a 38kg Litespeed (with gear too)  through the snow, at those altitudes.  
But the fitness and "enlightenment", really came with the switch to "hike and fly"   (paraglider) in the 90's.  Often we'd spend three hours or more, trudging up through the alpine terrain to reach a suitable take-off slope.   Flying through snow falls, and cloud layers, (sometimes with compass and GPS),  was occasionally necessary.......simply to get back down to safety, and not be caught by nightfall in the alpine snow !    
So when the opportunity to settle near Stanwell presented itself,   I was more than happy to grasp the opportunity.   The difficult "break"   with my Euro/alpine "second homeland", was only possible through the "intervention"  of several wonderful people here... .two lovely Asian women, who tolerated a flying junky in their midst,  and Tony Sandenberg for piloting me through the "maze"  of traps for newly arrived (Euro) pilots, to the hill.   Without their help, I may never have made the "break",  just as the three Czech guys "helped" me into hg'g at the start.   
My most memorable flight was taking off for the first time,  in a small seaplane I'd built, with the help of two German guys.   The floats however, their alignment, and their attachment (struts) to the plane,  I'd done myself.   When airborn however, I noticed to my consternation, that the plane was nose heavy, and needeed continual up elevator to fly.   What had gone wrong in my calculations ?   I'd really spent considerable effort in working out all the angles etc.   And then it dawned .... the wind resistance on the floats !   Of course, I'd completely ignored that factor ....that had to be it.  I landed immediately  (my first float landing too)   corrected the small trimmer tabs on the empennage elevator, and took off again.   The little plane flew hands off,  to my thorough enjoyment.      ##      No doubt I could relate some scary hg/pg "frights".. I'd certainly had a few, and was lucky to be alive after more than thirty years of flying.  But small seaplane flying is  "only for advanced students",   especially if you built it yourself !

Charly

KILLER WHALES… @ STANWELL

Article and images by Anthony Sandeberg

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Dolphin pod

Orca Family

Single Orca

Mother and Calf

Orca Dives

Orca Mothers and Calves

Dolphins

Orca breeches

We finally got to head north. It had been so long since it was “on” and that great feeling of boating around Hell Hole with the boys, not to mention the short journey to get there. It was still dominant south, so the end of the East Face would be working, although I must admit, I love flying low, scratching past the Pie Shop, light thermals coming off the Bulga rocks at the turn of the tide. Spiraling down over the huts, then hugging the trees as I turned tail,

level with the few tourists taking in the view on the south side of Hell Hole…amazed as I scream up and turn into wind just in front of them. Play around for a while then jump onto the cliffs bordered by a fence line where there always seems to be someone admiring the view on their way to or from “that” beach, yeah, you know the nude gay beach!

Anyway, it’s on and we’re soaking up every bit. A little too south to attempt Burning Palms…although not too south for Jessie to attempt, he’s such an arsy bastard, almost always manages to pull it off, with the occasional walk out of Bulga…still with a grin from ear to ear…must be the Portuguese! So Jessie’s kicking tree tops on his way to Burning Palms, Charly’s boating around in his socks and Pierre le Ffrench is high, (up) as usual…and there’s this eruption of white water, a school of 20 dolphins chasing bate fish, again another flock of 15 or so swim by, followed by a gaggle of whales…”hang on, their not whales... “F%$# me, their Orcas.” I screamed. I’ve never seen them in the wild let alone 50m off the coast just north of Stanwell. Five or six in all, diving in and out of the water, the largest about 5m in length, sheltering two babies. I hugged the cliff and got as high as possible and flew out over them to get these images, about eight trips in all, almost coming to grief on one trip as I got so low in my excitement to photograph these remarkable mammals I contemplated landing at Bulga. I managed to climb out on the lower platform about 40m above the deck and headed back to Stanwell. The things you see paragliding!