Lifeboat! by Margaret Dickinson Page A

the small window at the left-hand side. ‘Brakes,’ he pumped the brakes a couple of times, ‘working—closed and locked.’
    Through the small open square of perspex Mike shouted, ‘Right, cable on, please, Toby.’
    Toby now stood at the tip of the port wing, supporting it and holding the glider in a level position. He shouted to someone behind him. ‘Nev, can you check Mike’s launching hook, please?’
    â€˜Sure.’
    The mechanism for back release and release under tension duly checked Mike waited for clearance from the ‘box.’
    As they waited, Toby said, ‘I say, Mike, don’t do what old Bob did yesterday.’ He was grinning.
    â€˜Why, what was that?’ Mike shouted.
    â€˜Landed up at a military airfield in Yorkshire somewhere and was clapped in the guardhouse.’
    â€˜Good Lord, whatever for?’
    Toby shrugged. ‘ Standard procedure. Lock you up first and ask questions after.’
    â€˜What happened?’
    â€˜Oh, it was okay when he explained it all. They were very nice, gave him a cup of tea and all that—afterwards. But it gave him a bit of a jolt at first.’
    â€˜I bet!’
    Mike felt the familiar twinge of excitement as he waited for the moment of takeoff. Mentally he went over his preparations once more. The barograph was stowed behind the empty rear cockpit out of Mike’s reach during flight. The 750-litre oxygen system had recently been charged and was unused. Close at hand were a pair of thick gloves, a map and a stop-watch which he would need for dead-reckoning navigation.
    Mike was not following a particular course from his map as he would have been doing for a distance flight, but it was vital to have a map in order to avoid prohibited areas in his search for lift. In his enthusiasm it was so easy to forget to read his map when his eyes were scanning the cloud formation overhead which would take him higher and higher …
    The signal came that they were ready for another launch and Mike said, ‘All clear above and behind?’
    Toby answered, ‘All clear above and behind.’
    â€˜Take up slack,’ Mike requested and raised his index-finger vertically. The huge lights at the end of the caravan flashed a slow on/off signal and Toby swung his left arm backwards and forwards as if marching, until Mike shouted, ‘All out.’ Then Toby’s signal changed to a similar arm movement but this time above his head, and the lights gave a faster intermittent signal.
    Mike felt himself being tugged forward and the glider began to move smoothly across the grass, gaining speed. After only a few yards the glider became airborne and began to climb steeply. At twelve hundred feet, Mike released the cable and below him the tiny parachute opened and gently lowered the cable to the ground.
    Immediately Mike found a thermal and banking and turning to the right, he began circling, climbing higher and higher, all the while watching the building cumulus above him as a sign of the thermals waiting for him.
    He was on his way.
    After being airborne for some ten minutes, Mike called Toby up on the radio. ‘Golden Eagle Base, this is Great Awk. Over.’
    â€˜How’s it look?’ Toby wanted to know.
    The excitement was evident in Mike’s tone even over the crackling radio. ‘ There’s a promising cumulus to the west with a base of about three thousand feet. Here I go! Out.’
    He felt the glider sink a little just before it entered the swirling thermal and then the surge of lift began. Banking and turning to the right, Mike worked the thermal, spiralling up and up at a rate of climb of about eight knots until he reached a height of three thousand feet which was, in fact, cloud base. Just as he was about to leave this thermal, he pulled back on the stick and the nose of the glider came up sharply and with a final sudden thrust upwards the Blanik gained an extra two hundred feet. It