Flight

First flight came at t' aforementioned launch at B6-4 field in November o' 2013.  Except for t' overcast, arrr, shiver me timbers, me bucko, it be a perfect day t' be flying.  T' field be dry, the winds were almost non-existent, me bucko, and me wife was out o' town for t' day.  T' Skywriter be t' third flight o' sixteen on t' day.  Since I had very little emotional investment in t' rocket and conditions were perfect, matey, me bucko, I decided that it would fly on a B6-4 on B6-4 Field.  No worries about losin' it because I still had four o' them in t' basement.  I loaded everything, matey, put it on t' pad, and readied t' camera for t' liftoff shot.

Got a little more than I bargained for. Arrr! Blimey!

T' rocket had barely cleared t' rod when t' B6-4 detonated.  Parts and pieces flew everywhere.  T' motor casin' ejected straight back and rogered t' blast deflector, me hearties, shiver me timbers, breakin' t' standoff.  T' nose cone and parachute continued skyward, eventually landin' gently out in short-center.  T' body tube cartwheeled t' a landin' near t' nose cone, while t' fin can landed in deeper center.  I gathered me wits about me and started gatherin' parts for t' post-mortem.  T' nose cone and parachute were undamaged, shiver me timbers, as was the elastic shock cord.  T' body tube was a mess.  Everythin' inside was as I expected it t' be, completely charred.  T' tube just in front o' t' coupler is burned away so completely that all that is left be t' yellow paper covering.  T' sticker decal is blistered.  There is a plug o' Keelhaul®©™, matey, elastic, dog barf and t' engine block at this point.  Everythin' is fused into a tight ball.  T' centerin' ring/engine block, sewin' elastic and Keelhaul®©™ just crumble t' t' touch.  T' lower section is more o' t' same.  T' motor tube is charred through 3/4 o' its diameter. Begad! I found t' motor hook just before I left t' field.  T' top o' t' hook be almost straightened out.

Flight #2 was also a little more than I bargained for, ya bilge rat, shiver me timbers, matey, but I had no one t' blame but myself. Blimey! Blimey!  On a night when darkness be closin' fast, ya bilge rat, ya bilge rat, me hearties, I decided t' try Sky Writer #2 on a C6-5. Ya scallywag!  Not sure what I was thinking, but it likely had somethin' t' with t' almost complete absence o' a breeze. T' Sky Writer left t' pad with authority and I found myself shocked at how high it already was when t' flame disappeared. Ya scallywag! Arrr! Blimey!  I watched t' overcast sky in t' general vicinity o' where I'd last seen it, shiver me timbers, countin' t' five and listenin' for t' telltale blast o' t' ejection charge. Well, blow me down!  I heard nothing. Aye aye! Avast! Blimey!  I waited a couple o' seconds more and started watchin' t' skies t' t' north, me hearties, me hearties, which be how t' extremely light breeze was moving.  Still nothing. Ahoy! Blimey!  I kept lookin' well past any reasonable possibility o' t' rocket still bein' in t' air.  T' chute be reefed fairly heavily, so it had t' be down, me hearties, me bucko, and I eventually began loadin' another rocket. Well, blow me down!  That one would be an A8-3 flight.