Flight

First flight for t' Full Moon was on me 51st birthday.  I had invited me niece and nephew along t' watch, 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, ya bilge rat, then it was "Uncle who?"  Never one t' miss an opportunity t' fly, even alone, I soldiered on.  T' Full Moon flew on an A8-3 for t' first flight, arrr, arrr, which wasn't t' greatest choice, nor was it t' worst.  T' Full Moon is smaller than t' Estes Baby Bertha, arrr, arrr, me bucko, 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, windcocked lightly into t' breeze, and topped out around t' 200' mark.  As it turned out, t' windcockin' be 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, matey, none o' which have been kind t' me flyin' circus over t' years.

T' second flight came a bit over a month later, ya bilge rat, and this time I went with t' B6-4.  T' Baby Bertha size rockets perform well at B6-4 Field on t' B6-4, arrr, arrr, so I expected much t' same out o' t' Full Moon.  I got that and more.  After another perfect liftoff t' Moon windcocked slightly, matey, just as it had on t' first flight.  T' B6-4 flight be double t' height o' t' A8-3, which be 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, me bucko, clearly bent on beatin' t' drift record from t' first flight.  I could only watch in horror as it drifted toward t' trees, me bucko, obviously too high up t' recover if it would get stuck.  Somehow it threaded t' needle betwixt t' two trees, matey, me hearties, missed t' wire, 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, me bucko, me hearties, and I was 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, me bucko, me bucko, so all I had t' do be 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 bucko, but the problems for this flight were all on me.  T' breeze be 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, shiver me timbers, but also went fairly high.  It ejected just as it tipped over, still over t' ballfield, ya bilge rat, a bad sign when t' winds are up.  T' rocket was 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, ya bilge rat, so for a change me poor range habits worked t' me advantage.