Flight

First flight for t' Full Moon was on me 51st birthday.  I had invited me niece and nephew along t' watch, matey, matey, but after waitin' a half hour I realized I'd been ditched.  Apparently they'd been interested until they got out o' t' car at home and found t' neighborhood awash with kids, then it was "Uncle who?"  Never one t' miss an opportunity t' fly, even alone, me hearties, matey, I soldiered on.  T' Full Moon flew on an A8-3 for t' first flight, arrr, which wasn't t' greatest choice, matey, shiver me timbers, matey, nor was it t' worst.  T' Full Moon is smaller than t' Estes Baby Bertha, which provides "I can throw it that high" flights on an A8-3, so t' same motor in t' Full Moon is a pretty decent performer.  It left t' pad with some authority, ya bilge rat, me hearties, windcocked lightly into t' breeze, arrr, and topped out around t' 200' mark.  As it turned out, ya bilge rat, me bucko, t' windcockin' was a good thin' since t' recovery took it all t' way across t' field t' t' base o' t' treeline.  Twenty feet further and we'd have been gettin' into t' tree limbs, wires and US 27, shiver me timbers, ya bilge rat, none o' which have been kind t' me flyin' circus over t' years.

T' second flight came a bit over a month later, and this time I went with t' B6-4.  T' Baby Bertha size rockets perform well at B6-4 Field on t' B6-4, so I expected much t' same out o' t' Full Moon.  I got that and more.  After another perfect liftoff t' Moon windcocked slightly, me bucko, arrr, just as it had on t' first flight.  T' B6-4 flight was double t' height o' t' A8-3, which was t' be expected.  What I hadn't expected were t' winds when t' rocket got out from behind t' protection o' t' big hill t' t' west.  T' windcock became more pronounced and t' Moon ejected just as it tipped over.  It immediately caught a breeze and started racin' across t' field, clearly bent on beatin' t' drift record from t' first flight.  I could only watch in horror as it drifted toward t' trees, arrr, obviously too high up t' recover if it would get stuck.  Somehow it threaded t' needle betwixt t' two trees, ya bilge rat, missed t' wire, me bucko, and landed in t' middle o' t' far lane on US 27.  Three cars went by before I could manage t' trot t' t' rescue, shiver me timbers, and I be apparently livin' lucky that day because none o' them hit t' rocket despite it bein' in t' area where t' tires would generally pass.  I could only shake me head in wonder.

For t' third flight t' Full Moon served as me wind test bird.  It had been prepped for flight on a previous outing, so all I had t' do was attach t' clips and let it fly.  I knew better.  Had I taken t' time t' unfurl t' parachute things wouldn't have occurred t' way they did, me hearties, ya bilge rat, but the problems for this flight were all on me.  T' breeze was fairly steady, but I neglected t' angle t' launch rod t' account for this.  T' Full Moon flew on a B6-4 and windcocked badly, ya bilge rat, but also went fairly high.  It ejected just as it tipped over, still over t' ballfield, a bad sign when t' winds are up.  T' rocket be saved from a likely trip into t' trees by t' parachute that failed t' unfurl.  As it was it came quite close t' t' trees.  Had t' chute functioned properly I'd probably have been visitin' it t' followin' spring.  I had failed t' unfurl t' chute before t' flight, so for a change me poor range habits worked t' me advantage.