SAFA Skysailor Magazine

53 WINTER 2025 | June-July-August SKY SAILOR to build a fire. Throwing in a hand full of lemon grass from behind the shack, he sat back rubbing his hands in anticipation. “We’ll be eating like kings today.” They took it in turns to see who could tell the biggest stories, but the old man won! His war stories of flying Spitfires in the Air Force had Andy enthralled. A bottle of rum emerged from a loose-fitting floorboard, buried in the cool sand. Last of his stash. It poured rain most of the night, but the roof didn’t leak. Merv tossed a few eggs and leftover lobster into a cast iron pan and lit the gas. He placed thick cut bread on the glowing mesh of the camp toaster. Breakfast eased their thumping heads as they sipped tea and said their good-byes. Andy followed the track up the escarp- ment, looking for somewhere to re-launch. He found the only clearing large enough to spread his glider. Loose red gravel unnerv- ing under his boots, a 53m sheer drop to the surf, and a light onshore wind, the bomb-out a small moss covered spot to the right, still wet from the receeding tide. He laid out, raised the wing, turned, stead- ied himself on the gravel and dived into the air. The huge rock face was cavernous. With his left wing about a metre from the wall, he flat turned in light lift and gained a little, metre by metre, finally climbing up the face of the jagged cliffs and topping out at 145m. Moisture laden clouds march in from the warm sea. Fearing cloud suck, he patiently waits their passing. Below, low lying scrub covers the entire length of the plateau, ahead bushwalk- ers cross a river leading to a waterfall, cascading over the 100m drop onto boulders below. The cliffs ran for 15km. Andy pushed on, forever searching for landing options in this terrain. A sea eagle appeared; carrion held firmly by its talons. Envious of its aerial dominance, Andy flew on in his wing of cloth and string. Waning wind, now 45-degree cross from the south-east, reduced the lift considerably. He topped up at a south- east facing rock ledge and headed for the inlet in slight rotor. Now only 20m above the ledge, he set up for an active landing, smack into scrub! Followed by a call for a pick-up and a cold beer… What a sport! Photos: Tony Sandeberg