Sunday night, I was returning from a day at Morningside with a sad tally of 15 minutes airtime over 3 flights. The conditions were less than desirable for soaring but still good for crosswind launches and landing practice. On the drive home I was thinking about Monday; the forecast said there was a chance Wellfleet would be flyable early in the morning, but later in the day looked like weak winds.
There was also a full moon projected for the entire night. I must confess, I was tempted with the thought of flying at night. When I was in Army Aviation, my favorite flights were night flights; there was a peacefulness to the sea of darkness that could never be matched by the sunlit day. Those thoughts of a moonlight flight were quickly squashed by the reality of it being against the rules and possibly putting the site in jeopardy if I were caught. So onward to the next best thing - the opportunity of launching with a Full Moon in the sky and the Sun rising over the Atlantic Ocean. This is a rare event where you get these coming together with winds in the right velocity, and direction. This was an opportunity that does not come along very often, and one well worth the drive.
I called Matt Melvin to see if he was up for the adventure as he lives close to the Cape and has been itching to fly there. The last two times he has joined me, he has been grounded after his glider broke on setup. Here was his chance to break the curse. Matt had to work later in the day so an early flight fit right into his plans - he was on board. We decided to meet on launch by 5:30am and takeoff at sunrise (6:12am).
I awoke at 2:50am and did a final check of the weather; it looked better than the previous days forecast. I was ramped up and excited to get going, I did not feel at all tired from the minimal sleep. I rushed out the door, stopped for gas/food, and hit the road. I checked my email on the drive and saw Tom, Pete, PK, John, and Jeff, etc. were all looking at Greylock or Wellfleet for Monday. I typed a quick response to their emails from the night before saying, "already en-route to Wellfleet for a sunrise flight. Hope you get to fly, maybe I'll see you in the air".
I made good time despite the plethora of construction, and managed to arrive by 5:20am right behind Matt. To save time we started chatting via cell phone after passing over the Sagamore Bridge en route to launch. This allowed us to get all the verbal chit chat out of the way, setup and fly, and skip the tea and crumpets beforehand.
The winds were blowing 22 to 28mph on launch - SWEET. We set up our wings under the light of the full moon and prepped our gear, doing a quick once over of the gliders. Matt said this was my idea so I should launch first. He wire crewed me out to launch, and with a bit of wrestling we were able to get my wing into the airflow. Once on launch I looked out over the water, the sun was cresting the horizon; it was time to go. I cleared him from my nose and took one step over the wild blue ocean, I rose up into the orange yellow glow of sun-fire.
I turned North along the ridge and climbed out like a rocket screeching for the stars that were still peppering the moon lit sky. I turned and looked back to see that I was already 500 ft over the launch. I basked in the glow of the sun and etched the vision into my memory for later recollection. Once I had settled in I took a photo of Matt slowly inching his way to launch, like a tiny silkworm.
I worked my way north to the Beachcomber Restaurant, soaring back and forth between launch while I watched the sun finish her mighty ascent. Once I was satisfied with this existential moment, I turned to fly up the coast. Matt followed closely behind and snapped some amazing photos.
We traversed the ridge toward Truro until we encountered the first major gap impeding our trip. Crossing these gaps can bring a quick end to an enjoyable flight as there is no ridge to create lift and an extremely small, to no, dune connecting one to the next. One must cross over these barren wastes with enough altitude to come in above the ridge on the other side, or suffer the miserable fate of walking back to their car.
I took the first shot attempting to cross and turned back halfway after measuring how much altitude I had lost. I do not like crossing these until I've been flying for 2+ hours so I at least satisfy some of the airtime I craved before risking an impromptu end to a good flight.
On my third pass I went all the way across with no problem. I came in about 100 ft. above the deck on the other side and climbed out to the North. I turned and looked for Matt but he had turned South and headed back toward launch. He returned 10 minutes later and made a valiant attempt at crossing, but turned back halfway. He had sunk out on one of these gaps a few days before, so he was a little gun shy about trying again.
He turned South and made a trip toward the Nauset Lighthouse, which I would see later in my flight. I turned and headed North, stopping along the way to play peek-a-boo with a large inquisitive grey seal that was quite interested in what I was doing up above.
After passing over the second gap, I was relieved, and a bit more confident. I continued on to the Highland Lighthouse/Golf Course, first passing the Air Force Radar Ball sitting on the coastline. I tried to get below the ridge before passing in front of it but I could not seem to get low enough. This was a mistake in my skills as I needed to be a bit further out front (over the water) to bleed off enough altitude. Unfortunately, I was so worried about staying up, I failed to recognize my error.
Highland Lighthouse
I passed Highland Lighthouse and continued along the dunes another mile or so before turning back. I then flew South looking for Matt. Finding no sign of him, I forged ahead back to launch. I made it back passing a few more seals along the way, to see him pull in with his truck and wave me off; he was leaving for work.
After buzzing by launch a few times, I decided to try my first attempt at the South Lighthouse (Nauset) as I had never flown there in my previous Cape flights. I scanned sections of the ridge the further south I traveled, testing the lift band with tepid wings, as I did not want to hike back to the car which was now 4+ miles back to the North.
Nauset Lighthouse
My arrival at Nauset Lighthouse was greeted by a Red Tail Hawk soaring the ridge hunting for a meal. We flew together for a few moments, our gaze locked on one another, mine in curious wonder, his in fear of his life. The hawk then spied a meal foraging below, and dove down to snatch it up with pinpoint accuracy. This is quite a sight to see from the air.
On my return to the north I passed Marconi Beach and another inquisitive seal in the surf below. Some excited tourists were peering from cliff-side, taking photographs of my airborne self. I put on a little airshow for all the creatures staring about, doing some diving turns and wangs, nothing too fancy. The seal started doing barrel rolls in the surf as an appropriate and well received response.
Fatigue was now setting in; 4.5 hours of sleep, lack of food, and hours and hours in the air. High Tide was over but the surf was still pretty high, adding some complexity to landing. I made a few various approaches, finding the one I liked most, then bled off altitude over the water and landed on the beach below. As I set my glider down I looked out under my wing to see the waves crashing against the shore and the strong smell of salty sea air drifting into my nose.
Initially I thought I passed 6hrs of airtime but was fooled by daylight savings. So all told my flight lasted for 5 hours and 10 minutes (a new personal record). I traveled 16 miles North and South along the coast of Cape Cod multiple times, at altitudes of 70' to 700' over the ocean. An amazing day, and one that I will never forget.
