It's the wet season here in Phuket right now and so the good flying days are slightly less common than they are in the dry season. Having said that, there are still plenty of excellent days and this week has been made up of such days. We've had incredibly light winds, little cloud cover and the normal high temperatures and so, I thought I'd take my trike up for another look at Phi-Phi.
I filed my flight plan for a dawn departure (06:15) on Monday 5th July and got to the airfield about 15 minutes before take-off. I called the Phuket International Airport to notify them of my imminent departure, they told me the QNH and reported winds "calm"; good! I started her up and set off over the dew-soaked grass to warm my oil prior to take-off - you need 50 degrees C before you can rev the nuts off a 912S. I then pointed Little Nellie down runway 13 and floored the throttle - she trundled off like an old maid, lifting her hems as she sprinted down towards the sea. At this time of the morning the temperature was 25 degrees C and so she leapt into the air with a youthful spring - I made a heading adjustment to about 165 and put her into a very shallow climb to 500 feet. I like flying low over the sea - the "long-tail" fishing boats were starting their days work and I enjoy flying low over their heads, we always exchange waves. Or maybe they're shaking their fists (?)
By the way, I know the pundits say you should fly high-ish over the water in case of an engine failure but I don't really see the point in this. My view is, you're gonna get your feet wet whether you fly at 50 or 5,000 feet so what's the difference? Providing you have enough height/speed to turn and ditch into wind, make the MAYDAY call and disconnect your headset wires.... fly as low as you like! Besides, we're not allowed to climb over 1,000 feet if we're within 30 nm of the International airport - unless we get clearance of course and they're unlikely to grant this for a local flight.
I soon spotted a couple of chartered catamarans at anchor - probably waiting to get down the tidal channel to the Boat Lagoon (this channel's never dredged and can get as shallow as 2 metres in parts even at high tide so, it's worth waiting for a high tide!). I immediately pulled the bar in to gather speed and flew between their masts at about 90 mph - what fun. Glancing behind I saw I'd stirred the occupants who'd rushed up on deck to see what had made all the noise - one boat had some oldish folk on board and the other had about 3 bikini-clad babes, it was therefore worth another pass for a closer inspection. Yes, they were definitely female and I got a flurry of waves and cheers - if only they knew I was an overweight, middle-aged, retiree with a wife and three kids! Praise the Lord for face-obscuring helmets.
On with the mission. I could see the Southern tip of the island Koh Yao Yai (half-way to Phi-Phi from my home field - "Koh" in Thai means "island") and in fact, I could just about see Phi-Phi - about 30 miles away. I set a course for the tip of Yao Yai since I wanted to see if we could build a small landing strip there - it would be a nice place to land and there are a couple of small hotels which I'm sure could be trained to rustle-up a full English breakfast for future trips. As I approached the tip, the wind was picking up to about 13 knots at 500 feet - from the East-ish. This didn't cause too much trouble but it meant (a) my groundspeed was now about 58 mph and (b), there was a bit of rotor-turbulence since I was downwind of the hills that border the Southern tip of Yao Yai. Anyway, I decided not to mess around for too long in the lea but just take a quick peek - I did see some land that had potential and reckon I'll go back for a closer inspection when I have more time and it's less blowy.
On the way out of Yao Yai I saw a lovely little fishing village in the milky dawn light, comprising of a few shacks made from corrugated tin with some long-tail boats scattered in their small bay. I can only wonder how hot it must get inside those shacks when the sun is beating down at mid-day - it must be like a sauna.
Onwards to Phi-Phi and so I aimed for the northern tip of Phi-Phi Don - the larger of the two islands and the one that has habitation: bars/hotels/dive schools, etc. The wind was still pretty fresh from the East and so I thought it best to stay upwind of any land by flying down its North-Eastern coast in order to avoid any rotor - the rocks on Phi-Phi rise to about 1,000 feet; more than enough to kick-up some rough air. The East coast is mainly tree-lined with a few hotels/bungalows and a decent stretch of beach; enough to make a landing should the engine give me any trouble. I flew down to its South-eastern tip and then turned back on myself around the point to run-up to Tonsai Bay - the main jetty is here and so are all the shops, bars and dive-schools. I was now at about 700 feet in the lea of the mountains and was consequently getting bounced around a little, nothing alarming but a tiny bit uncomfortable. Glancing down to Tonsai Bay I saw a bonfire with smoke rising vertically so I thought it would be better to drop to 100 feet in order to explore this area. The smoke was right, it was flat calm down here.
Tonsai Bay and Loh Dalam Bay almost meet each other but are separated by a sandy strand about 200 metres wide at its narrowest part. These two beaches were devastated simultaneously in the 2004 tsunami and many souls were lost. All the buildings were flattened and so what you see now is post-tsunami construction:
I meandered around this area for a while, putting in some nice swoopy turns in each bay at 100 feet or less - it is SO MUCH FUN doing this early on a beautiful July morning when everyone else is still sleeping - my Tanarg is the "ES" (for Extra Silent) version so I don't think I'd have been disturbing anyone. There are probably only a handful of trikers who've ever flown around here; it's such a privilege and it makes me feel very honoured each time I do it.
I decided to vacate Phi-Phi Don and head South for the smaller but more scenic Phi-Phi Ley island - this is the one that contains the stunning Maya Bay, the location for the Leo di Caprio movie "The Beach". Phi-Phi Ley is a massive rock jutting out of the sea to over 1,000 feet, here it is as seen from the North-East:
I knew this obstacle could chuck-up some choppy air and so I stayed East and climbed to 2,500 feet in order to get a nice aerial shot of Maya Bay and, avoid the turbulence. This Tanarg is a wonderful machine - stick her in a cruise-climb at about 4,500 rpm (she peaks at 5,000 rpm if you have the "912 ES" version) and she claws her way upwards at about 700 feet per minute. I know I shouldn't complain but as we climbed the temperature fell (as it's supposed to do) - we started our climb at 25 C and at 23 C I felt a real chill then, as we got to 2,500 feet it had plummeted to 21 C - bloody freezing in an open cockpit at 70 mph wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. I have to remember that the vast majority of the World's trike pilots fly in temperatures way below these and so I'll stop moaning now.
Looking down on Maya was a treat for mine eyes - the huge cliffs that surround the bay are clad with trees and grass tufts and then in the centre is this clear, aquamarine, warm and flat-calm sea, so clear that you can clearly see the reef and sand on its bed. I have to say it again, I feel so privileged to witness such beauty especially when I know that only a select few ever get treated to this view. I resisted a strong urge to swoop down into the bay with rock walls all around me, and then fly down the corridor of cliffs to make a high-banked exit through Maya's Western door. The truth is I was very wary of the turbs that might transform my gallant dash into a bowel-loosening and scary ride. I decided to chicken-out and come back on a less windy day.
I spiraled down to about 800 feet and got about 800 metres West of Phi-Phi Ley when I realized my decision not to fly through the bay was the right one. Even at this distance in its lea I was tossed about in moderate fashion - I could still feel the rough air some 2 miles downwind of the island.
I set course for Phuket via a couple of islands and beat-up a few trawlers on the way - I think they enjoyed it. Half-way home I saw a Christmas Frigatebird, this seemed unusual since they're migratory and I thought they'd all cleared-off by now although apparently some do stay all year round. Frigatebirds are pretty big and spectacular with forked tails and a very characteristic wing-profile caused by a pronounced carpal joint - they get their name from the fact they plunder other birds for their prey - just like frigate ships. Here's a female Christmas Frigatebird that I shot from a boat last year:
After a fast sea-crossing home (I had a 12 knot wind up my backside) I flew up the East side of Phuket (still mindful of the winds) to my home field and made an uneventful landing after a sortie which had lasted 1 hour and 35 minutes. As always on landing I started planing my next trip..... if the wind is calm and from the North I'll do this, if from the South I'll do that, etc, etc. Eventually I'll get them all flown and then, I guess I'll have to start again.
