Then on the final approach to what I thought would be just another circuit, John, said, "After landing, can you just pull onto the taxiway, and I'll get out. You feel happy about doing a solo circuit, don't you?" "He, he I'm going solo!" I thought I vacated the runway on the Aero Club's taxiway. My heart was pounding in excitement - "Bloody Hell, I'm going to go solo!!" John lent me his map, and indicated Eshott airfield (where I had done some microlight flying at one time). "If anything goes wrong and you can't get back into Newcastle - go there." I sincerely hoped nothing would! He closed and locked the door (I'm not sure I would have remembered), and commenced his walk back to the club house.
For a couple of seconds I savoured the idea of being alone in the aircraft. I remember saying "OK Juliet Victor, be good to me!" as the thrill coursed through my veins - I was going to be a pilot at last! Then, to calm myself down I busied myself with the pre-take off checks. Feeling much calmer, I then pressed the transmit button "Golf Juliet Victor ready for departure!" ATC delayed me a little while, and then "Golf Juliet Victor, clear to backtrack and take off, runway two-five." I advanced the throttle, and JV moved gently over the line, I applied right rudder, and she turned right. I moved the wrong way up the runway on the right hand side, as I'd been instructed. I deliberately went a little further than I would usually do - I didn't want anything to go wrong - before turning though 180%. Lined up straight, I advanced the throttle, and the Cherokee started rolling, I was concentrating on doing everything in the way I was taught.
Look, no instructor!
At Newcastle I was taught (I think) that one should not turn base leg without ATC direction. I had always learnt that ATC tell you everything, and you must obey their orders to the letter. As I had not had permission, I didn't want to turn, so continued flying my downwind leg paralell to the runway. I kept flying futher and further away from the airfield towards the North Sea, and thought I'd better do something about it. "Golf Juliet Victor is ready to turn base.". The controller's voice said (almost as if to say "have you not done so yet?") "Golf Juliet Victor, clear turn base, report finals, clear to land". I gratefully accepted this directive, and turned onto my second last turn prior to landing onto the penultimate leg - the base leg. Lining up on the final leg and final approach to the runway, I noted I was now a long way out after my 'extended downwind'. I delayed my descent till I was nearer the runway, and then after setting up for the landing, called "Golf Juliet Victor on finals to land.". ATC, again "Golf Juliet Victor, clear to land, surface wind is ....". I couldn't remember the wind speed or direction, but it was always negligible at Newcastle - the wind nearly always down the runway. I take more notice of these things now, I hasten to add.
Golf Juliet Victor clear to land!
I left the runway at the taxiway F for the Aero Club, and spoke to ATC. "Golf Juliet Victor, vacated on Foxtrot.". I was absolutely shattered, flying solo was a lot of work, I could feel that my back was sweaty after the concentration. The controller came on the RT again -
"Golf Juliet Victor, believe that was first solo?"
I replied "That's right. Golf Juliet Victor".
The controller again, "Golf Juliet Victor. Well done!".
I carefully taxied JV back to the aero club stands, shut down the engine, and did the closing down checks. Finally I grabbed my stuff, and John's map, and walked back to the club house. I was absolutely shattered, but on a complete high as I sauntered back to the club house.
On returning to the club house, John asked me "How was the landing?" I told him truthfully that it wasn't my best, and I was presented with a "Memorable first solo certificate". I was glad he didn't see the landing!
I needed a drink, and went to the aero club bar. Excitedly, I phoned my mother from the BT payphone in the entrance, who was grateful she didn't know I was going solo (she's not a keen flyer), but was pleased for me. When I went into the bar area itself, a chap there said, "Are you the one who's just gone solo?" "Yes!" I replied happily (I wanted the world to know!), to which he said "I was listening to the radio, and when I heard a student pilot practicing a dummy engine failure after take off, I knew you'd go solo!" I remarked that he'd known before I did! He said "Can I get you a pint?" He bought me a pint of lager, that I found extremely refreshing. I'd never seen this stranger in my life, before, or after, but I was very grateful for the pint!
I had now joined the hallowed ranks of true pilots, there was no going back now - or was there?