Airship Over Atherton

by Christopher Cummings

  The filling of 144 balloons to fill the two centre sections began. It took a minute or so for each balloon and turned into a much slower and longer job than they had imagined. As each balloon was filled Marjorie collected an empty one and brought it to Willy, then squatted beside him while it was filled. When he closed the valve and disconnected the balloon and she took it their fingers touched. Willy could not help remembering how she had flirted with him when they had filled the balloons for Airship No 1. The memory gave him some uncomfortable stirrings.

  This time she was modestly dressed and though she met his eyes a lot and smiled she seemed much nicer and less threatening. Willy could not help smiling back.

  The airship was designed to lift 200 kilograms. Of this 60kg was the weight of the airship itself. That allowed a margin for one adult and a safe amount of ballast. The ballast was to be water in old plastic 2 Litre milk containers tied on either side of the frame, ten a side; five in front and five behind.

  Willy’s father went and turned on the lights in the shed. None of the others had noticed how dark it had become. To his astonishment Willy saw that dusk was upon them. This gave him a sharp twinge of disappointment. He had hoped to have a flight that afternoon. Now he began to fret in case the weather wasn’t as suitable the next day.

  His father straightened up and rubbed his back. “Tea time. Stop work for a while,” he ordered.

  Willy rose stiffly and walked out into the cool of the evening. He stretched himself and sniffed the air. It was going to be cold. He turned to study the sky. “Not a cloud in sight,” he observed. “And not a breath of air. That’s how we want it tomorrow.”

  His gaze roved along the purple mass of the Lamb Range. Noting the sharp silhouette of large rocks on the distant crest he said to himself, “There’s that rock. Kahl... something-or-other. I wonder if Roger and his mates are up there yet?” He looked carefully at the distant crag but could not detect any fire or light.

  “What are you looking at?” Stephen asked as he came out of the shed.

  “That rock. I was looking for the fire that your army cadet mates said they would light.”

  “Too early. Tomorrow night they said,” Stephen answered. “It’s sixteen ‘K’s from the highway to the bottom of the ridge. They won’t start climbing till tomorrow- and it will take all day for tubby-guts Roger to haul his bulk up it.”

  “Why didn’t you go with them? You usually do don’t you. I mean, they are your mates,” Willy asked.

  Stephen looked uncomfortable. “Yeah; they are, and we usually do. We’ve done lots of hikes together- and had some real adventures- but just at the moment Graham and I aren’t seeing eye to eye.”

  “Oh. Sorry to hear that. Why not?”

  “He and I have both been chasing the same girl,” Stephen replied.

  Willy looked at him in surprise, his worst suspicions confirmed. “Who is she?”

  “Oh, a sheila named Rowena in 10C.”

  “What about Marjorie?” Willy asked, annoyed at Stephen’s cavalier attitude.

  “What about her? Little troll. You can have her. She’s in love with you anyway. You are all she ever talks about,” Stephen replied.

  “No thanks. I don’t want your cast-offs!” Willy snapped.

  “Keep your hair on! We didn’t do anything. I tried, but she wouldn’t let me. She was just trying to make you jealous,” Stephen replied.

  “Hmmpf!” Willy snorted. She had too, the scheming little minx! “Let’s have tea. I’m hungry.” He turned on his heel and headed for the house.

  After the meal the group returned to the shed and resumed filling balloons. As each one was inserted the netting rustled and moved. Bit by bit it all lifted off the floor. Willy left the filling and moved along to ensure the net wasn’t twisted and that no ropes were tangled. He and his father untied the frame from the rafters and laid it on its side. Willy neatly coiled all unwanted ropes then clipped on the starboard side guy ropes.

  The shed wasn’t large enough for the balloon to rise above the frame so the rigging had to be completed with the frame lying on its side. As the balloons rose to touch the rafters Willy’s father ordered them to stop.

  “That’s enough. We don’t want a nail or something to puncture a balloon, or for them to touch an electric light and heat up till it explodes. We will finish filling first thing in the morning. How many balloons to go?”

  “Thirty five,” Stephen replied. He had been ticking them off on a check list.

  “A bit over half an hours work. OK. First light is at about six. We want to be ready by then so everyone go to bed early and we will get up at five,” Willy’s father said.

  “Five!” they chorused with moans and groans.

  “Yes, five. We want to use the early part of the morning before the sun stirs up the wind. Now, pack everything neatly and let’s go and see about supper.”

  They tidied up, secured the airship, and went out. As the lights were turned out Marjorie came and bumped against Willy.

  “Oops! Sorry. I can’t see a thing.”

  Willy tried to step away but she moved closer and put her arms around him. She felt wonderfully cuddly and he put up only a token resistance. She murmured to him: “Oh Willy, I’m so excited about tomorrow.” She gave him a hug. Willy tried to ease her arms from around him while giving her a hug in response. To his relief she let go and stepped back just as his father came out of the shed and closed the door.

  As they walked back to the house in the darkness Willy realized it was very cold. He also knew he was very excited- and confused. So many events seemed to have piled on top of each other so quickly that he felt as though he was simultaneously shivering and numb.

  While they had hot Milo in the kitchen Marjorie sat with Shona and smiled continually at Willy. Willy hoped she would not suggest anything for that night. He did not think he could cope. ‘Besides,’ he told himself, ‘There is Barbara.’

  Marjorie made no move. She sat and chattered happily to Shona, who appeared to be repelling some not-so-subtle advances by Stephen. All Marjorie said as they parted to go to bed was: “Sleep well Willy. Pleasant dreams. Tomorrow is the big day.”

  CHAPTER 19

  THE GREAT DAY AT LAST

  Willy crawled into his sleeping bag with a head so full of mixed thoughts and emotions that he was sure he would not sleep. He tried to conjure up pleasant fantasies about flying in his new airship with Barbara; but these kept wandering off to worries about some technical detail of Airship No 2, or into memories of Airship No 1. Inevitably this introduced thoughts of Marjorie. He struggled against these, resenting her and despising his own weakness. Just as he thought he had won, back they would flood. He seemed unable to stop them.

  The memories soon became hot and Willy wriggled restlessly in his stretcher. At every sound he wondered if it was Marjorie coming out to him. He half-dreaded, half-hoped she would. His ears listened for any faint sound to indicate such a happening but nothing occurred. He lay back thinking. No. She would not dare. Not with Shona in the same room. But then... with Marjorie he wasn’t sure.

  Memories of being in Marjorie’s room all aroused and ready brought him to that state again. ‘Oh! I’m a hypocrite!’ he told himself. He had to admit he had wanted to do it then. ‘Am I just a coward?’ he wondered. ‘Maybe I am lucky Uncle Ted got up,’ he mused. That sent his mind down a sinister and unhappy tunnel. He looked around in the darkness; at the open doorway, along the veranda, out into the night. It was all so similar. He shivered and pulled his sleeping bag tight around his head and neck.

  As the awful memories flooded in Willy was moved to deep sadness and tears prickled in his eyes. What a terrible night! He tried to banish it from his thoughts. ‘Think of Barbara,’ he told himself- but images of Marjorie came instead. ‘No! Think of something else. Think of flying. Better still, go to sleep.’

  But instead he tossed and turned, annoyed and upset. ‘Tomorrow is the big day and I want to fresh and rested. Go to sleep!’ />
  Sometime around midnight he did.

  At 5am he sat up, feeling muzzy and washed out. ‘What was that?’ he wondered, peering into the darkness. ‘Ah, yes! It is dad’s alarm clock. Today is the big day!’

  He heard murmuring voices as people stirred inside the house. Ignoring the cold he struggled out of his sleeping bag and began shaking the others. “Wake up! Wake up! It’s time.”

  Stephen rolled over and growled at him: “Bugger off! It’s too early.”

  “No it’s not. It is time to get up.”

  “It’s still bloody dark!” Stephen protested.

  Stick sat up and shivered theatrically. “Strewth it’s bloody cold!”

  Willy moved on to shake Noddy. Noddy woke with a start. He rubbed his eyes and looked around.

  “What’s that?” he asked, pointing.

  Willy turned to follow Noddy’s finger. For a moment he was puzzled. Then he realized he could only see a few metres. “It’s only mist. Get up.”

  “We can’t fly in fog,” Stephen complained.

  “It is only a ground mist. It will lift when the sun comes up,” Willy replied. He turned on the veranda light and picked up his clothes.

  Twenty minutes later they were all seated in the dining room sipping hot chocolate. Aunty Isabel was there, wrapped in a warm dressing gown. She beamed at them and set to work cooking bacon and eggs. Stephen was still grumpy but Willy didn’t care. Today was the big day!

  Marjorie and Shona came in, both smiling and giggling. Marjorie walked over to Willy, put her arms around his neck, and hugged him. Willy flushed with embarrassment and pleasure, very conscious of her warmth and the tantalizing and delicious ‘woman-out-of-bed’ aromas. She let him go after a moment and moved to get a hot drink. No-one else in the room even seemed to notice.

  Willy felt a deep glow of happiness- until a niggling thought of Barbara wormed its way in.

  Rugged warmly up against the morning chill and fortified by hot toast, fried bacon and eggs and hot drinks the group then made its way down to the shed in the darkness. As the shed doors were rolled open Willy looked around. There were only thin wraiths of mist over the field but a thick bank of fog lay across the lower end near the creek. A faint glow indicated the position of Cairns. To the left of that a pinkish flush indicated that dawn was not far off. To his relief there was not a cloud in the sky and only the gentlest of breezes.

  Perfect!

  The lights clicked on in the shed and there was his airship. Willy danced with excitement and said silly and inconsequential things. His father took charge. “First unroll that anchor rope and tie it onto the tractor’s roll cage,” he ordered. “Stick, you check that it is securely fastened to the frame. We don’t want the whole contraption to blow away on us when we pull it out of the shed.”

  “Not like Willy’s model,” Stephen said with a laugh.

  Once Dr Williams was satisfied the mooring rope was secure he distributed the youngsters around the airship. Willy and Stephen picked up the frame. Stick clambered up into the rafters of the shed above the door. Aunty Isabel, Willy’s mother, Noddy and the two girls positioned themselves along the netting and guy ropes.

  “Now, gently ease her out of the shed,” Willy’s father ordered. “Stick, you let us know if anything gets snagged up top.”

  Slowly, a step at a time, they eased the airship around and through the door. By hauling down on the guy ropes most of the ‘balloon’ was kept clear of the door frame. Willy and Stephen found themselves enveloped by netting and balloons and had to half-crawl, half-drag the ‘gondola’ along underneath.

  After a few anxious minutes the balloon was outside. The ‘balloon’ was allowed to rise so that the guy ropes became taut. Willy felt them tugging at the frame. He looked up. The balloon looked quite enormous. It was tinged pink by the dawn. He gazed at it in silent pleasure.

  It will work! It will fly! He met Marjorie’s eyes and smiled.

  Willy’s father gestured with his arms. “Let go everyone and we will see what happens,” he ordered.

  They stepped clear. At once the airship rose. The frame went up past Willy’s face so quickly he was astonished.

  Marjorie clapped her hands and cried in delight: “Oh she flies! She flies!”

  “Didn’t you think she would?” Willy chided, but he grinned.

  The airship rose ten metres over their heads before jerking gently at the end of the mooring rope. The stern kept rising till the frame was at about a 45 degree angle.

  “She needs trimming,” Stick observed.

  “Wait till we see how she sits with a person on board,” Willy replied. “Then we can add ballast to the frame.”

  “Right, pull her down,” Willy’s father ordered. “Then four of you hold her. Noddy, you fill the ballast containers and tie them on. Stick, you and Willy fill all the remaining balloons and bring them out.”

  They set to work. Willy found his fingers all thumbs. He wouldn’t have thought he could possibly get more excited but he did. One at a time he took filled balloons from Stick and carried them out. Marjorie and his father guided them into the netting. It took the efforts of six people to hold the net down while they did this.

  It was full daylight by the time they had finished. A bar of sunlight lit up the airship and Willy glowed with it. ‘Now for the real test,’ he thought. He nerved himself to climb on.

  But no. His father had them all let go again. This time the airship rose even more rapidly to jerk at the end of the mooring rope.

  “Plenty of lift there. Our sums must have been accurate,” Willy’s father said. “OK. Pull it down again and we will tie on this ballast.”

  They clustered at the rope and hauled the airship down. It took the combined efforts of Willy, Stick, Stephen and Noddy. Stick then tied on the ballast containers under the watchful eye of Willy’s father. Again they were ordered to let the airship go.

  The airship rose much more slowly and still stood on its nose.

  “Pull it down again.”

  It was easier this time. Marjorie and Stephen were able to do it. The ballast really made a difference. Again Willy nerved himself for the test flight. Again his father said no. Instead they would add 65 kilograms of weight to the bicycle to represent his weight. Three plastic water containers were lashed on, one on each side and one across the seat then four 2 litre plastic milk containers full of water added to the handlebars. The airship was then released for another test flight.

  This time the airship rose very slowly up and rode down by the stern. At the end of the mooring rope it drifted gently and did not appear inclined to rise further.

  “That’s good. Pull it down and we will adjust the ballast,” Willy’s father said. Willy found he was able to haul the airship down on his own.

  “She won’t lift two people,” he said.

  His father nodded. “She might when the sun heats the gas and expands it.”

  “But then the air will also be warmer and less dense,” Willy replied.

  “Maybe. Doesn’t matter. You aren’t setting up a passenger business.”

  They retied eight of the ten ballast containers to the frame in front of the bicycle. Another test was ordered. Willy began to fret with impatience. It was already 6:45. Soon it might be too late. The wind might get up.

  This time the airship rode easily on an almost even keel.

  “That is good. Pull it down and we will have a test flight,” Willy’s father said.

  Stephen pulled the airship down. Marjorie and Tina held it while Stick and Noddy untied the water containers. There was no debate about who the test pilot should be.

  “Good luck Willy,” Marjorie said, giving his arm a squeeze. Willy moved to straddle the bike.

  “Put this on,” his father said, handing him a broad belt. A short rope with a snap catch led from it.

  “What is it?” Willy asked.

  “The safety belt. We don’t want you falling off. You have to be able to move about the frame to work the
ballast, gas valves and so on,” his father explained.

  Willy fastened the belt around his waist and the rope was clipped to the bike frame clear of the pedals. He lifted a leg over the frame while the others held it steady. By then he was trembling with excitement and paused to wipe sweaty palms on his trousers. He took a firm grip on the handlebars and lifted his feet onto the pedals. The frame seemed to wobble alarmingly even though the others were holding it.

  “Ready?” his father asked.

  Willy licked his lips and nodded. “Yes.”

  “OK. Keep hold of the rope you kids and let it out slowly. Let go of the frame.”

  Willy felt the frame wobble. Noddy let go abruptly but Stick steadied him as the airship began to slowly rise. Willy experienced a peculiar sensation as the heads of those around him appeared to sink. He looked down at them and grinned. Then he laughed. A wave of intense emotion swept over him; half fear, half exhilaration.

  “It works! She flies!” he cried.

  He was above their heads now, his father and Stephen easing out the mooring rope. Willy smiled and waved. Marjorie and Shona smiled and waved back. Then Willy noted Aunty Isabel’s worried face. Next to her was his mother. She was making an attempt to smile but was clearly worried. On an impulse Willy took both hands off the handlebars.

  “Look Mum, no hands!”

  This made most of them laugh but Willy’s mother frowned and Aunty Isabel shook her head.

  “Don’t be silly Willy. Don’t clown,” his mother called. She had a camera and raised it. Willy put his hands back on the handlebars and posed while she took several photographs.

  The airship was slowly let out to the full extent of the mooring rope. Willy discovered that even ten metres was a long drop. He gripped the handlebars more firmly and tried to pretend that he was not afraid.

  His father stood back and eyed the airship critically. “She’s still a bit down by the stern,” he called.