Pacific Adventure
David Owens
This modeling extravaganza was completed by David Owens and his four-year-old son Andrew, apprentice modeler.
The plan
This story begins when Andrew's mother has to work at Chaminade University in Hawaii. So we planned a way to visit her there. We chose September, when the older kids were back in school. The flights were booked and the plans were made — but what about the long flight? What would we do?
Model aviation, of course: we would make an airplane on the flight — in fact, we'd make an airplane while on an airplane.
Which airplane? The Sterling Corsair just needed some finishing touches, but how would we take it? What if it broke? Yuck. We decided on a scratch-built airplane, Dranac, an .049 canard. It's nice and small; not too much wood, not too much cutting. As a bonus, I had almost all the wood I needed. To make it easy I cut the long sheets so they would fit into a travel case.
Travel and in-flight building
- 5 a.m.: Andrew brought his red dalmatian suitcase packed with a Lego pirate ship, swim goggles and candy.
- 6 a.m.: Curbside check-in, then to long-term parking.
- 7 a.m.: We're off!
Now, what to do for 11 hours on a flight with a four-year-old? Legos first — wow, what a pirate ship! Then we ate dinosaur fruit snacks. We made a tent on the floor for Andrew from the airline blanket, and we both slept.
Out came the attaché case with the balsa. I didn't have a clear idea of what I could do on the flight, so I decided to trace and mark out the wood. This is not so easy on a 9.5 x 18 drink tray.
Go for the ribs — they are always the worst job. So I traced them onto a 1/4 sheet. I'm not usually self-conscious, but I did start to wonder what the other passengers were thinking. What the heck. I'm doing what I want to do.
Time to refuel and make a connection in Dallas. I packed all the balsa into my attaché case, and we changed airplanes.
With the main attractions gone or eaten (the pirate ship and dinosaur fruit snacks), I now had to occupy Andrew for a few more hours. Tracing balsa just would not do it.
Improvisation: pirate flag and more
Time for plan B. I whipped out two old T-shirts — one black, one white. I traced a skull-and-crossbones on the white shirt. I had my scissors handy (I always use them to cut cross-grain on thin balsa) and skillfully cut apart the T-shirt. The black shirt was cut into a flag shape. Now for a challenge: to sew the skull-and-crossbones to the other shirt. Aha! I used glue — no sewing required. We draped the flag across the seat back in front.
Strange things happen on airplanes, and by this time I had made a tent, cut out balsa parts for an airplane, made a huge pirate flag — and no one said a word!
"This is your captain speaking ..." We fastened our seat belts and looked out at the sea for a sign of Oahu. We saw some military airplanes as we touched down, and then we joined the exit scuffle to get off the airplane. Still, no one said a word as we both put on pirate eye patches.
Arrival and sightseeing
"Look, Dad: palm trees." Andrew noticed the decoration in the airport.
"Look, Dad: the Empire State Building," he said as our taxi passed through Honolulu.
"Look, Dad: a volcano," as we approached Diamond Head. We checked into our hotel a few blocks back from Waikiki Beach.
As I awoke early the next morning and explored the beachfront, there was an uncomfortable calm; stores were closed and some had heavy tape across the windows. There must be some reason. As I returned to the room, the idle chatter of the weatherman was confirmed, and the sirens sounded: Hurricane Iniki was heading this way.
We decided not to evacuate the hotel with the others; we walked down the block to the beach. There were crowds standing in the hotels waiting for the hurricane to hit. We took one last run down the beach to dip our feet in the water, then ran back as fast as we could. The guards ordered us off the beach.
Hurricane Iniki and airplane building
By 3 p.m. the storm was hitting its hardest, and the air pressure, humidity and cloud cover had changed rapidly. It was like being in the Twilight Zone. Andrew's mother slept.
But what were Andrew and I to do to stay calm as the winds and rain buffeted the palm trees like matchwood? Once again, it was model aviation.
We sat in chairs away from the window and cut out fuselage formers. Andrew's job was to write F1, F2, F3, etc., on them. For the next few hours we sat relaxed at our table, whittling away as the hurricane passed.
We got into a regular routine: swimming and poolside activity in the morning; naptime and airplane building during the hot midday hours. Andrew liked to mark each piece with a permanent marker. "That's the most important part," he said. As the vacation progressed, we assembled piles of ribs, formers and fuselage sides. We made so much progress that we ran out of wood.
Hobby store and finishing touches
Time to visit the local hobby store. Lo and behold, there was a choice — even in Waikiki.
We drove by the Ala Moana shopping mall, and right behind it was a nice hobby store; it was small but well-equipped. We stocked up on wood, and Andrew selected the ever-faithful $1 wind-up balsa model. Instant gratification for Andrew, Mom and Dad. Guess who had the most fun flying it?
As the unassembled "kit" was loaded into the attaché case, we headed back to Connecticut (another 5,000 frequent-flyer miles). The Dranac had successfully "flown" back from Hawaii.
Although the model was finished, I waited to purchase and install the radio equipment. In the next few weeks Dranac will finally fly on its own after its Pacific adventure.
My goal is to build an entire model on an airplane. And who knows? Maybe I could even fly an RC model inside the airplane (with proper FAA air traffic control clearance, of course).
Editor's note
Don't count on it, David!
Transcribed from original scans by AI. Minor OCR errors may remain.
