“I will never forget that take off for as long as I live…”
In 1992 the BAC 1-11 fleet was being phased out of operation. British Airways donated one of these aircraft (registration – G-AVMO) to the RAF museum in Cosford.
I was tasked with moving the aircraft from Bournemouth Airport, where it was stored, to the museum. On the 22nd of March 1993, I met the two pilots – Doug ‘Douggie’ Brown and Nick Feakes at Bournemouth for the flight prep. The aircraft was positioned with no freight, just enough fuel for the flight and the three of us on board.
On taxiing out to the runway, Captain Brown requested permission from the tower to take off. The air traffic controller confirmed they had permission, and requested that the take-off be expeditious, which means – do it right now as fast as possible as another aircraft is on its way!
Douggie received loud and clear, applying full power. The aircraft quickly reached rotation speed, took off, climbed to 100ft, and stayed there! The speed increased, allowing the gear to be raised and the flaps retracted. He continued barrelling down the runway, 100ft above ground, before pulling back and climbing at a 34-degree angle! From where I was sitting on the flight deck, I could only see blue sky! The captain had to force the nose down once he reached 2000ft. At this point, the tower came through on the radio, “Thank you for that expeditious take-off. I will never forget it as long as I live!”
Neither will I!
We then flew to Birmingham Airport, where this aircraft was originally based. As we approached the airport, Captain Brown requested a fly pass, which was granted. The air traffic controller had barely finished their sentence as we smoothly dropped to 500ft. Following the runway, we noticed that on our left was an Air Lingus BAC 1-11 powering up for take-off. Douggie quickly matched its speed and altitude until we pulled up alongside it, and then both craft climbed in unison. Douggie glanced over to his left, and then, without a single word from either pilot, we peeled off to the right whilst the Air Lingus craft went left. It was as if the two pilots had organised an aerial display!
We then pushed onward to Cosford. As we approached, the captain made another request for a fly-by, but this time at high speed and low altitude. Permission was granted. Douggie beamed, then pushed forward on the stick, diving like a bird of prey towards Cosford. We tore down the runway like a speeding bullet, only a couple hundred feet above the ground, before Captain Brown hit full power and pulled the stick back, sending us soaring up into the sky before pitching right. At this point, it was clear that Captain Doug Brown was having the time of his life! As was everyone else on board to be fair. But he wasn’t done yet!
Another low pass fly-by was requested, but this time, at low speed. “Granted”, crackled out the radio. Down came the flaps and gear, and we descended so gently that it felt like we were gliding. We followed the runway more leisurely, before climbing and pitching right again. As we circled Cosford, Douggie finally relented and requested to land. It was granted, and we gracefully descended like a falling leaf. At the end of the runway, there was a small bandstand full of RAF recruits. As we taxied past, the entire bandstand gave us a Mexican Wave! We manoeuvred into the allocated parking spot, Douggie reluctantly shut the engines down, and that was the last flight that aircraft ever did.
I handed over the logbook to the museum curator and shook his hand. We then bid farewell to our aircraft and got into the waiting minibus, which took us back to Birmingham Airport, where we were flown back to Heathrow.
Some years later, I was sent back to Cosford Museum for some BA business, where I happened to meet – the very same curator!
“I know you,” he said cheerily as we shook hands.
After I explained who I was, he was thrilled to see me again and asked If I would like to see the aircraft again, both inside and out. All the aircraft at the museum are usually locked, so to be offered this unique tour felt very special. I happily accepted, and the curator opened up the hatch for me. A wave of nostalgia hit me as I walked around the empty interior, and I was instantly reminded of the day we brought the aircraft here.
The main thing I learned that day was that there are some capable pilots out there, and then there are some exceptional ones. Captain Douggie Brown was very much one of the latter! It was a real privilege to be on that plane and watch him work. Damn, that man could fly!
It’s worth mentioning that the BAC 1-11’s had an affectionate nickname – ‘The Pocket Rocket’ due to its acceleration and climb rate. I can now personally attest that the nickname is well-earned and extremely accurate!
