My chalet has a well-stocked library with lots of gliding books you’ve never heard of.  Phillip Wills (related to Gavin), Dick Schreder, Nozaki Toshihiko and more.  I’ve been reading until well after midnight every night.

Today’s weather is predicted to have weak thermals and convergence.  G picks out a task to use the best part of the day and the task area.  202km: Makaroa – Stewart’s Creek – Tekapo B power station.  Cloudbase starts out at just above ridge-top height and varies all over the place.  I flew into the first turnpoint above Cloudbase but quickly fell below – into the rain.  I had to close the vent to keep the rain out.  Cloudbase varies by more than 2000’ along the second leg.  It’s difficult to keep track of my position.  Looking at the altimeter, I think I’m at cloudbase and it’s time to leave but I’m nowhere near it.

On the final leg, I see my first blue clouds!  Bizarre! 

Despite finding heaps of unexpected lift on final glide, we land thinking that we’ve used the day’s conditions to the ultimate, with a 5-hour flight.  However we hear that Gavin and Beth have gone to the Rangitata river – hundreds of kilometres further than we went.  G makes some smart comment about the tug pilot (his girlfriend) enjoying the retrieve.  But they return three hours later, having found the soaring was good all the way.  In a way, the convergences are more amazing than the wave.  They just keep pumping all day.

In the evening, Graham and Poppy (couple from England) are looking at G’s pants. “Graham, why don’t you have pants like that?”  “Because I have pyjamas.”   See Day 1 of my diary for an illustration.

Lecture on convergence – the last major type of lift.  I photographed a time-lapse movie of convergence over the airfield before briefing.  The weather brief is “convergence and not much else,” so we set off without much expectation.  We got the full house of lift effects: flatland thermals, convergence thermals, windshadow thermals, ridge thermals, slope lift and wave to over 16,000’.  We were still climbing at 6kt but put the nose down to 100kt to do a bit of cross-country.  This was the first day I took the camera up and got some great photos.

You really need to know where you are.  If you’re in the wrong valley you can go from being in a comfortable position with an airfield “just around that ridge” to being in a hole with absolutely nowhere to have a survivable crash.
Stories in the bar: the pilot was asked where he was on the radio, replied in a very small voice, “I wouldn’t want my mother to know where I am.”

Weak thermals and ridge.  Unable to contact the wave due to insufficient thermal energy.  Had a casual lunch and launched after 2pm.  Even this is not considered to be late.  Apparently Kiwis drink 1.75 Billion cups of tea per year.

Dinner tonight is trout caught by some of the other pilots.  We can taste the difference between the different rivers.  “Is that the Otematata?”  “No, it’s the Ahuriri.”

No wave forecast, but we found some anyway.  We got to 13,000’ over Mount Cook and ridge-soared the mountain.  It’s very weird to be on oxygen with the ground less than 1000’ below.  The morning’s lecture on wave is very timely.  The wave we are working is very short wavelength – less than 1km between the pour-over cloud and the first upward “bounce.”  Some of the clouds are so consistent that they have names – “Northwest Arch” and “Taieri Pet” are the most striking ones.

Low cloud and easterly wind, so no flying, although Gavin did fly in the afternoon on the ridge for a photo session. Two lectures today, on ridge thermals and thermal centring – the only technique to use is “tighten on surge.” Lots of coffee is drunk at Dagmar’s café.

Weather forecast not good: “Best to launch early.” So we launch straight onto Nursery Ridge with no instruction. The main goal seems to be to catch a thermal as it leaves the peak of the ridge, get to cloudbase then punch out into the wave. The sky is almost completely overcast and the small patches of blue “wave windows” open and close in only a few minutes. We spend 2.5 hours touring the ridges and thermals, at or above ridge-top height.

The afternoon’s instruction session is on ridges: “gentle slopes are more dangerous, so fly fast in case a thermal tries to roll you into the ridge.” My instructor is “G” (he doesn’t like his real first name.) Beth flies with “Lemmy” and we’ll both get a flight with Gavin Wills himself later in the week.

The chalet is very comfortable, with milk, coffee and other supplies (even eggs) left behind by the previous occupant. Mine is the one closest to the terminal building; a not-very-energetic stone’s throw away. All the chalets are externally identical, with different interiors built by the various owners.

After years of thinking about it, I decided to do a week"s advanced gliding course at Omarama, New Zealand. This series of blog postings is my daily diary. It"s a bit random because it"s basically just memory-joggers for myself. If you want the full explanation of “blue clouds” or anything else, you"ll just have to buy me a beer and ask me.

The thing I hate most about flying commercial is getting to the airport on time. I left home about 4am to be sure of getting there early and, just when I think I"ve made it, there"s a 4-car pileup with the police in attendance just outside the airport. During the flight, I catch a glimpse of Mount Cook, with a lenticular wave cloud forming downwind of it. The passport-stamping person in NZ was strangely untalkative. Usually they want to know where you"re staying and are obviously looking for nervous-looking people. Maybe I"m giving off the seasoned-traveller vibe

It"s about 4 hours to drive to Omarama from Christchurch. Very scenic drive. I am staying on the airfield, in a “chalet.” Gavin Wills puts in an appearance and introduces me to Beth from the USA who is also doing the same course.