Any sunny evening at Pembrey usually sees a fair few of the club members sitting outside in on the grass chatting and watching the last flights of the day before heading pub-wards together.
This particular evening was no exception and I’d just finished the first of my familiarisation flights in the Cessna and just pulled up a chair to join them, when a very swish Pitts special flew into the overhead and straight into a very spirited aerobatics display, smoke and all.
The engine noise brought everyone who was still inside outside to watch and there was much admiration in spite of the accompanying many glances towards the tower, waiting for the explosion, as so far no one had heard him say a word.
He finished the routine, made a pass along the runway and disappeared.
The following week we discovered why he hadn’t been speaking to Pembrey. In short, the poor silly sod, thought he was over Swansea and was now well and truly in the cack!