Train Spotting

This is an edited version of a chapter from my first book

No-one, apart from the pilots, even batted an eyelid when the Senior Conductor announced over the public address system that Spot Firth, one of the Red Arrows’ fuel bowser drivers, was driving the train

‘How would you like a high speed train named after the Red Arrows?’ This question had come completely out of the blue one day in March 1997 in a telephone call to me from Kelvin Bayldon, Account Manager for Virgin Trains. ‘All our train sets are being repainted in a very striking red and dark grey livery.’

‘I am sure we’d be delighted but there’s already a train named after us,’ I replied. ‘It’s 91004, one of East Coast Main Line’s Intercity 125s, and it was named by The Queen Mother at Kings Cross in 1989. I’m not sure whether we could have two trains named after us. It might seem greedy and it might confuse the spotters.’

But, as the Team were to learn, Kelvin is not easily put off. Two months later, 49 members of the Red Arrows including all the Reds, a group of the Blues and a fair sprinkling of wives, partners and children, drove by motor coach to York and gathered in the Royal York Hotel for a VIP reception.

After an excellent lunch, everyone made their way through the station concourse to Platform 10 where a gleaming train set was standing ready to form the 14.07 scheduled service to Bristol Temple Meads. Sadly, although the event had been widely advertised in advance, there were not many train-spotters on hand; perhaps they were kept at bay by the British Transport Police. After introductory remarks by Virgin Trains’ Chief Executive, Brian Barrett, Simon Meade, the Red Arrows' Team Leader, was invited to make a short speech and carry out the actual naming.

‘You may not know this, but Richard Branson has been associated with the Red Arrows for a number of years. He flew a full display sortie with Tim Miller, one of my predecessors, 7 years ago – and that is not an exploit to be undertaken lightly. I was there that day, just about to start my first year with the Team. Richard Branson now has 10 ex-Red Arrows flying as pilots for Virgin Atlantic including the Team Leader he flew with in 1990. So Richard could, if he wished, form his own Red Arrows’ Team – albeit with rather ageing pilots! I am not sure whether that represents good teamwork and leadership or just plain head-hunting. Brian, please tell Richard that if he is thinking of poaching any of my pilots to use them as drivers on Virgin Trains – I would be grateful if he would wait until the end of my tour.

‘Next Saturday we'll meet this train again, between Exeter and Teignmouth, on that spectacular stretch of line along the sea wall, when we hope to make a series of flypasts over the train to take photographs for the benefit of the local tourist boards – and for the sheer pleasure of doing it. We hope that you, Brian, will fly in my back seat to see your train from a different angle.’

After the brief ceremony, the Red Arrows joined the train for the journey south to Derby. Because it was a normal scheduled service, there were fare-paying customers on board but many of those turned out to be train spotters rather than genuine travellers. The Red Arrows passed through the train distributing brochures and stickers and chatting to the passengers. Fortunately, many of them appeared to be Red Arrows’ fans and perhaps they assumed that the Team’s presence in their flying suits was part of Virgin Trains’ on-board entertainment. Certainly no-one complained, possibly because everyone was invited to share the free champagne and canapés. No-one, apart from the pilots, even batted an eyelid when the Senior Conductor, encouraged by the blue-suiters, announced over the public address system that Spot Firth, one of the Red Arrows’ fuel bowser drivers, was driving the train. It was not true, of course but the pilots looked worried for a few seconds. Several of the pilots and ground crew were, however, invited into the cab to see the ‘cockpit’, accompanied, as the rules required, by a senior inspector. The Red Arrows left the train at Derby and rejoined their coach, which had repositioned from York, for the journey home.

The date selected for the naming ceremony was one of the few days off the Team would get during the entire display season. The date for the flypast of the train was governed by the rules of all flypasts: they have to be timed so that they can be flown without incurring additional expense. As it happened, the Red Arrows had to be in Exeter on 17 May for a display at Plymouth and it was easy to build the flypast into the schedule. This news caused Kelvin Bayldon a crisis of conscience: it was the very day set for his wedding and having been the instigator of the train-naming, he did not wish to miss the flypasts.

‘How am I going to tell Annie that we have to change the wedding date?’ he asked rhetorically. In the end, he wisely drew back from any further consideration of that option and reluctantly accepted that his date in Weston-super-Mare would have to take priority. Although Annie had learned to love the Red Arrows following a couple of visits to Cranwell with Kelvin, there seemed little doubt that she would not wish to postpone her wedding on their account.

‘Pity really. It would have made a nice story,’ I mused, sadly.

On the Friday afternoon before the trip to Exeter, the Red Arrows gave a private display at Marham in Norfolk for the students of the Royal College of Defence Studies. While the 9 display pilots flew back to Cranwell to debrief and refuel, Red 10, who had been giving the commentary at Marham, flew direct to Exeter. All the other Reds plus Wing Commander Dick Johnston arrived in the vicinity of Exeter to find a very active thunderstorm sitting over the airfield. Visibility was reduced to about 2 kms in torrential rain and the cloud base was only a few hundred feet above the ground. Simon Meade split the formation into four groups of three and two aircraft. The leader of each group would fly an Instrument Landing System (ILS) pattern which would guide the aircraft down to Decision Height, 200 feet above the runway, from which point the pilots would complete a visual formation landing – if they could see the runway!

ILS patterns are flown at low speed so that when the runway is sighted, the aircraft is already in the landing configuration. If the pilot does not sight the runway until 200 feet, he has barely 20 seconds to assess the situation and put the aircraft on the ground. If he does not see the runway at Decision Height, he has to climb away to a safe height and either try again or divert to another airfield. Instrument circuits use up considerably more fuel than a standard high speed run and break into a visual circuit. The fourth group, Reds 10 and Red 11, found themselves only 8 miles out from the airport while the other aircraft were still in the process of landing and clearing the flooded runway. Sean and Dick were rapidly approaching their minimum safe fuel level and to further complicate matters, Dick’s VHF radio was unserviceable which meant that he could not hear or talk to the air traffic controllers although he could communicate with Sean on the UHF military frequencies. Had any of the first 8 aircraft blocked the runway for any reason, Reds 9 and 11 would have been stranded with nowhere to land. Sean prudently decided to carry out an emergency diversion to Cardiff airport while there was still sufficient fuel remaining.

Although Cardiff had been selected as the primary alternate airfield before leaving Cranwell, the incident does highlight the importance of meticulous pre-flight planning. Flying single-engined aircraft on minimum fuel in appalling conditions is no time to start getting out the planning documents! After refuelling at Cardiff, Reds 9 and 11 flew back to Exeter, by which time the weather had improved considerably.

The Blues arrived at the airport on Saturday morning about 9.30 am to start preparing the aircraft for the day’s activities. Red Arrows’ brochures and stickers, left in various places in the Airport Terminal, were snapped up by holiday-makers arriving from, and just setting out for, Tenerife, Palma and the Channel Islands. Some passengers, alighting from their holiday jet, made a beeline across the tarmac for the Hawks, much to the consternation of the airline movements staff who were trying to shepherd them into customs and immigration. The flight crew of a Lufthansa Regional Jet took time out to examine the Reds’ Hawks at close quarters before re-boarding their own aircraft for a flight to Hamburg. A crowd of onlookers parked in every available lay-by on the narrow road that leads from the A30 to the airport.

Brian Barrett, having eaten a hearty breakfast, arrived shortly afterwards with his wife and daughters. He was quite keyed up but insisted that he was really looking forward to his flight. The weather, unfortunately, was still very poor. The overnight heavy rain and the moist southerly airstream produced a dew point of 20 degrees. Since the air temperature was also 20 degrees, that meant 100% humidity and, inevitably, fog swirled around reducing visibility at times to less than 1 km. Overhead, the sun occasionally poked through the overcast. The conditions were almost monsoon-like. Someone referred to it as ‘hot fog’, a very graphic but not very technical description. With just an hour to go before take-off, Simon had no option but to cancel the flypast.

No sooner had Simon announced his decision than the sun broke through a break in the overcast and the air temperature climbed two or three degrees in as many minutes. This created a classic suckers’ gap, named after those foolish aviators who are sometimes tempted to ignore the weather forecast and take off in a clearance only to find that a few minutes later the weather closes in on them. But Simon is no sucker. Shortly after the sun appeared, an increase in temperature stirred up turbulence and caused the cloud base to lower and the fog to thicken again. No-one was surprised when the sun gave up the unequal struggle. Conditions rapidly deteriorated and were soon well below those required for Hawk operations.

To say Brian Barrett was disappointed would be an understatement but Simon promised that, should a suitable opportunity occur later in the year, the flypast of the train would be set up again. Just as Brian was changing back out of his flying equipment into his civilian clothes, his Account Manager a few miles away in Weston-super-Mare was walking down the aisle with Annie. For once, Kelvin’s mobile phone was switched off and so he could not be told that the flypast would not take place.

Less than one month later, Kelvin was made redundant as part of his company’s reorganisation but, he loyally insisted, it was nothing to do with the Red Arrows or the train-naming. Life can be cruel!

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