FLIGHT, 13 September 1957
432
FARNBOROUGH
WEEK...
their happier dreams. There was about three-eighths low cloud
when Oliver Stewart made his first announcement, but by the
time the Navy's red Sea Hawks made their appearance a fresh
breeze had swept away such cloudy cobwebs, and for the rest of
the afternoon there was a perfect aerobatic backcloth of high
cirrus and blue sky.
What can be singled out among so much that was excellent?
Bill Bedford and his "skiffle group" (as Oliver Stewart called
them)—Lockspeiser, Bullen, Merewether and Simpson—seemed
doubly brilliant, as if to make up for their weather-curtailed
show on Friday; Mclntosh (staunchly paired by Forbes in the
HDM.105) must surely have sold a hundred Students, had he
been performing before potential buyers, so dashing was his
demonstration; Tennant in the Gnat and later Beamont in the
mighty P.IB seemed to be vying with one another as to
which could pull the greatest amount of g in high-speed turns
(Bea's application of reheat came through as a muffled bang after
he had climbed away from his fast run); the nine Hunters from
Treble One Squadron, and later the five with their bomb-burst
and departing rolls were never less than superb; nor were "The
Sparrows" from Little Rissington outshone in their pistonengined Provosts, which had a certain slow-motion charm
by comparison with so many super-speed performers.
In all, it was a most successful day, with something for everyone. To at least one spectator's mind, the four Westland helicopters nearly stole the show. With their antics right in front
of the audience, these agile machines are surely the real successors of the barnstorming days of the 1920s and early 1930s,
when the "circuses" disported in local fields.
Sunday. By mid-day it was quite astonishingly warm for
September, with splendid conditions for the flying display apart
from a cross-wind (though not a strong one) at about 70 deg to
the main runway. The weather was cloudily picturesque, with
plenty of cumulus for the aircraft to perform against, though too
much to allow the high-flying Valiants and Canberras of Bomber
Command to be seen. It affected the programme in only one
respect, in that when the black diamond of No. I l l Squadron
appeared and went up into what is customarily a loop, these
brilliant Hunter pilots rolled instead, to avoid going into a heavy
cloud. This ninefold roll was a virtuoso performance even by
I l l ' s astonishing standards. Though there were one or two
showers during the flying, conditions stayed good until the end,
when the SR.53 had to perform and land in heavy rain. This
abrupt shower was a disaster for many of the 107,000 spectators (a first-estimate total likely to be increased when final takings
are known), for most of them must have got well and truly soaked
on the way to catch homebound buses and trains.
However, they could at least leave the 18th S.B.A.C. Show with
satisfying memories. Perhaps the most dramatic was of Tom
Lampitt in the Scorpion Canberra, taking off from the west end
of the runway and rocketing vertically into a tremendous climb
topped by an upward roll. His second climb and upward roll
following a fast run were hardly less sensational, executed with
all the skill learned in Fighter Command Aerobatic Team days.
Not a whit less skilful was the beautiful handling of the Gnat by
S/L. Das, whose performance was a masterpiece of precise
judgment. Like Beamont's in the P. IB, every move was carefully designed to show off the aircraft's appearance and abilities
within easy view of its audience. Similarly the two Vulcans,
Mks. 1 and 2, were demonstrated to the best possible effect, their
differing shapes shown off excellently against the cloud background by Harrison and Falk; and Harrison's landing run (without the use of a braking parachute) was amazingly short.
Again the four Hunters under impresario Bill Bedford put on
a magnificent show of speed and manoeuvrability (seemingly
unaffected by varied under-wing stores); the R.A.F. display,
rounded off with two white Christmas Island Valiants and two
white Vulcans in tight formation, was indeed (as Oliver Stewart
put it) "something to remember"; so was the Royal Navy's
skilled and varied contribution, with the Whirlwinds of No. 705
Sqn. performing their square dance in a circle of 30yd radius
with their rotor blades only 10ft apart; so were individual performances like Geoff Worrall's impeccable aerobatics in the
Javelin and his beautifully judged steep approach. In all, this
was a splendid finale to Farnborough 1957, crowning an S.B.A.C.
Show which ranks among the best ever witnessed,
The Foirey Ultra- Light returns to its lorry home after a jolly romp.
There are (he writes) advantages and disadvantages in being a
company representative on an exhibition stand at the S.B.A.C.
Show. It is pleasant to have a sense of power—people are looking
at you, and you are the one who decides whether they receive an
ordinary leaflet, a glossy brochure, a folder to carry all the other
companies' literature, or nothing at all. On the other hand, there
are the horrors—both abstract and human—of the public days.
("Those ruddy small boys are the end. Honestly, I turned my
back once last year and they'd taken everything—including the
message pad.")
The immediate sales value of contacts made at the show obviously varies from company to company, and is perhaps greatest
for the smaller exhibitors. Presumably few visitors are going to
order expensive aircraft or engines simply because they see a model
on a stand, are told how good the thing is going to be, or are
entertained to an excellent lunch.
The visitors, then, include few who are likely to draw out
cheque-books and order expensive aeroplanes. Instead, they
include many who want technical information, many who are
making purely social calls, and a number of high-level people
from other companies who combine both these aims. The man
on the stand has to steer them, as appropriate, to technical expert,
company head, or both.
The foreign Press and the flying display can cause their own
difficulties. And when the language barrier and the noise of P.ls
and Hunters combine, the effect is nerve-shattering. All one can
do is smile politely, light a shaking cigarette, make a note of the
inquirer's name and address, and think forward to that confidencerestoring Scotch after the display.
*
*
*
On the north side of the runway, near the control tower, is the
display pilots' tent. Here the pilots' briefing is held, normally at
noon each day. On Friday, first of the public days, the forecast
weather was bad and two briefings took place, at 12.30 and 2.30.
At the latter briefing, G/C. D. C. McKinley, head of the flying
control committee, announced that the programme would start as
a "bad-weather routine" in which limited demonstrations were to
be flown under V.M.C. A decision on the Service formations
would be made later, and it might be necessary later for radar
circuits to be employed.
His audience had included the well-known faces of Britain's
best test-pilots, plus a uniformed and bearded group whose task,
incongruously, was to square-dance a quartet of sizeable helicopters. The industry pilots had the routine well buttoned-up by
this time, and the briefing meeting was short.
Those pilots early on the programme left the tent and walked
or drove to their aircraft. From the tent entrance the remainder
regarded the drizzle and the low visibility without enthusiasm.
"How are you today?" "I'd feel fitter if I could see that horizon a
bit better. One's internal barometer goes up and down, too."
The enclosure in front of the pilots' tent is an extremely noisy
place from which to watch the flying. None the less, each take-off,
demonstration and landing is watched very closely indeed. On
the other side of the runway sprawls the tented, crowded public
site, but this is merely a background blur. Eyes are on the aircraft;
{Flying on the trade days: page 433)
and thoughts, most probably, are in with the pilot.
When the four Westland helicopters take their bow_ and move
off
towards us and the tower, we realize what the previously halfNEW ANGLES ON THE SHOW
felt resemblance is. It is to a stage performance, which we are
This year, in addition to Flight's normal coverage of the Show, watching from the wings. The helicopters come offstage like a
yielding the descriptive material in this issue, we looked at it from row of chorus girls (of a peculiar shape, granted). The illusion
three new angles. A staff writer sat down at several of the stands is carried further as other acts leave the runway stage at our
in the big tent and simply watched what happened there; he end: the buzzing Harrier, conjured up by the Pembroke; and
visited the display pilots' tent near the control tower; and he flew the Fairey lorry driving past, with an Ultra-Light on its back.
(see page 427) as a passenger with one of the Naval formations.
One finds it difficult to notice as pilots slip away, and others