“An all-electric fly-in” was the description offered, and Maddafunker gave a good historical background on how the first Tocinowack had come about. Interesting I thought.

Despite threats of wind and rain, the organizers decided to push through with it.  And we were truly blessed that day with good weather & great company.   

Three weeks prior to Tocinowack, I realized that I had no airplane prepared for the event. I planned on rebuilding a 3DBatix plane for it. Life hardly goes as you’d planned as on the eve of Tocinowack 2, I had nothing ready to go.

A quick trip to Duck RC and I had Marlene ready an ESC for me. When I got home, I spent nearly six hours just repairing an Ultrafly Outrage instead. I’d decided my 3DBatix planes were too beat up already to perform well. At 3:30 AM, I was finished with my set-up. I got my alarm ready and went off to bed.

That morning, I awoke at 8 AM - a very horrified man. I’d slept through my alarm.  I rushed bathing, packing and my goodbyes.  

No doubt, I was rushing too much even in driving to the point wherein I got into a vehicular accident.  Some pedestrian decided to cross the street at the wrong time and a taxi in front did a sudden stop. The driver in front of me managed to hit the brakes of her car on time, missing the cab by an inch. But me, nope. I saw it all too late. So in addition to the cost of gas & toll fees to get to Angeles City, I’ve to add the cost of the repairs of my car & the lady’s car whom I had bumped.

No serious damage on either side, but still - my wallet had been emptied of more of its meager contents to pay for things. Of course, I had to hit the car of the mayor’s secretary, right? Tsk. Its a good thing it was a minor accident where no one got hurt. She was quite amiable and we set things straight.

Anyways, I took Angeles City in a jiffy. By 11 AM, I was already in Nepo Mart… Angeles City’s main market place. I purchased Tocino from my favorite vendor (what is Tocinowack without Tocino?). On my way out, I passed by a shop where my mother & I used to purchase buko sherbet.  Hm.  I got three gallons of that to make-up for the fact that I was late.  Close to noon, I was at Kamikaze flying field.

To my surprise and delight, I saw a long line of vehicles parked. A good sign. Moreover, there were at least a hundred different folk present. I was so happy. The turnout was so good, Tocinowack 2 was so well-attended.

I arrived just in time for lunch.  For about fortyfive minutes I was doing nothing but shake hands with different people - old friends and new.

There were a plethora of planes strewn all about the flying field. Amazing little planes to mammoth-sized wonders. Better still, there were quite a number of them in the air. What a joy it was to see so many flying all at once.

Helicopters were also in abundance. TREX, X400, Lepton, EP8, XCell, Shuttle… and everyone was nice enough to do a little demo flying with their choppers.   

Of the flying skills of the participants, I can only say one thing: how I wish I flew that well.

Not the same Mini Miss America referred to in the story “Sailing in Zambales” but a Miss Am nonetheless.

Several storms had destroyed his old beach home, and after several attempts at rebuilding & consequent destruction - uncle Jun finally gave up and rebuilt only the comfort rooms & a common area. Thus, whenever the family gathers there - we’ve to bring tents & sleeping bags. The more daring of family members, braves sleeping on the sand. I’ve tried it… sand doesn’t taste very nice. Don’t ask me how I know, just take my word for it.

About five years ago, I was considering what kind of radio control aspect I could get my wife involved in. I asked her if she was interested in trying out airplanes. She said “I don’t like looking up at the sky.” So that killed off any kind of flying - including choppers. I found myself clueless.

As fate would have it, a few days later - we were called upon by our wedding sponsor - Obi Mapua, to come over and visit him. Upon arrival at his shop, Obi showed us around & talked to my wife about the different aspects of RC that existed. Still… nothing caught her interest. Then… she caught sight of something. Obi had an old PW40 hanging about his office. This is, as Obi explained - a trainer sailboat. She walked over and admired its construction. Graciously, Obi offered it to her as a gift. My wife cheerfully accepted. I looked on in horror, realizing that it was going to be me who had to work on it & study how to go about RC Sailing.

For some reason, our wives expect us to be the hobbyist & want nothing of the building part. Not wanting to begrudge my wife anything (afterall I was very happy that she took interest in something radio controlled) I tried to smile. We thanked Obi for his gift and left for home.

At my workshop, I stared at the sailboat for hours. My mind was a blank. I had no clear plan as to how to repaint the boat, fix her riggings or how to replace the sails.

A month later, I managed to find multiple websites that had information on proper set-up & sailing techniques. I even found a nice local paintshop that rehashed the sailboat at a reasonable price. I also had rainbow colored sails manufuctured for the PW40 locally. All this due to the knowledge & experience of my unlce - Tony Lazatin, who helped us out every step of the way.

Come Zambales & Holy Week, we were NOT ready. A test at the Parks & Wildlife lake proved the onboard electronics wanting. So I asked Tony Lazatin if I could borrow a boat to take with me to Zambales. He lent me a Mini Miss America.

I loaded my hobby box with batteries - both rechargeable & disposable. I wasn’t taking any chances of spoiling the fun. We were to be in Zambales for nearly a week. True enough, everyone had brought their cellphones & other electronic equipment that kept all the power sockets full 24 hours daily.

I made my last minute preparations & got the boat ready for sailing. As I picked-up the Miss Am, I realized that I had over two dozen eyes on me. Relatives mostly, plus drivers and an odd assortment of beach neighbors… all pretending to be busy, but all obviously very curious as to the performance of this RC vessel.

With a big grin on my face, I lifted her up in one hand (oh my aching muscles) and carried the remote in the other. I walked a good distance from the beach home towards the shoreline. In my excitement… I forgot my slippers and my poor feet paid the price.

Finally, I got to the shoreline. The waves were inviting. There was a steady breeze. All I needed now was either an umbrella or some sunblock… both of which I had again forgotten. My thoughtful wife quickly appeared behind me with the umbrella. A host of people were behind her. Apparently, the entire family’s curiosity could no longer be contained. And nearly everyone wanted to view up-close this new gadget… this “toy” as they referred to it.

I activated the onboard electronics as well as the radio. I did a last minute test, then took a few steps into the water. “Kulot” my mother-in-law’s driver, volunteered to take the boat in. I stepped back and watched. He nervously put the sailboat down, unsure if he was doing it right. He looked at me, and I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t know either.

As soon as he let it go, the boat dipped towards one side - her sails catching the wind at full broadside. She sped off at a pace that surprised me. I truly thought that it would be “turtlespeed” at best, but I was wrong. The PW40 was cutting over water as if she had a motor-powered prop pushing her. In fact, several onlookers inquired of me if she were “powered” or not. I proudly answered “Nope. No motors, no engines. She’s purely wind-powered.”

Within the first minute, I had my “audience” agog & bewildered. “Oohs” and “aahs” flowed. While this wasn’t the first time I’d gone sailing, I hadn’t been into it for too long. The boat made me look good. The Miss Am lended itself easily to “Wing on Wing” (the lead sail turns one direction, and the main sail turns the opposite direction during down-wind runs).

After some time, my wife put her hand on my shoulders. As I looked back, she softly whispered in my ears “My love… its MY turn to do sailing right?”

“Of course!” Taking the hint, I passed her the remote sheepishly. Within a minute, everyone was so amazed at my wife’s sailing. She took to it very naturally, and was zipping about the waters with relative ease. Within five minutes, she was doing her own “wing on wing” sailing too. Of course, her relatives were all singing praises.

After about two hours, my wife mentioned that she was beginning to get tired. At the very hint of this, nephews & nieces jumped in line requesting to borrow the controls. My wife & I merely smiled at each other.

One after the other, many people tried the sailboat.

Five hours later, the boat was still in the water. She was sailing majestically against the sunset. Childish laughter echoed amidst the sound of waves washing ashore. A little girl of four was at the controls.

It was July 3, 2006 when I finally got my first taste of hovering. I’d been preparing for it for nearly six months on the flight simulator. The first four months don’t count squat. I couldn’t get my simulator heli trimmed out right & wasn’t able to do anything constructive.

Then, two months ago - I somehow managed to trim the SIM out & get some hovering practice. A bit confident that my tail-in hover was good enough to try on the real thing, I quickly gathered all the equipment necessary to get my Hirobo Shuttle Plus airworthy. One trip to Lil’s Hobby Center, and I had everything that I needed.

I built the Shuttle myself, and after completion… I wasn’t too confident that everything was done right. Not trusting too much on books & internet material (my baby being quite a largish investment), I decided to seek professional advice regarding this & approached Alvin Alcantara - one of the country’s finest. After one hour’s tweaking & reassembling parts, Alvin had my heli ready for its’ maiden voyage.

We went out of his home, to the cul de sac outside his driveway. Mark Alcantara advised me that he would hold the left stick of my transmitter, and that I would hold the right stick. The “collective” as RC heli jargon goes, was my sole responsibility.

Mark & Alvin leaned over my Shuttle, and made all the necessary preparations. I could not help but admire the precision and certainty that the brothers Alcantara showed. This was something obviously routine for them, and there was nothing that they didn’t know how to do. Taking down the engine to realign it took them under five minutes to complete, a process which took me at least an hour.

Suffice to say that they got my heli running, did a quick test flight… then, when they were satisfied that everything was in order… they looked at me with a grin on each of their faces. They knew what was coming.

Me? I didn’t have a clue.

Mark brought the heli to the center of the cul de sac, then asked me to hold the collective stick. It was when my hand reached for the transmitter that I realized that I was nervous. I couldn’t hide it, and I couldn’t ignore it. Intellectually, I wasn’t afraid. But for some reason I could not explain, my body did not agree with me. My fingers were visibly trembling. What’s worse, my knees were shaking too.

Alvin gave me a warning, advising me that the heli would turn in either direction during the take-off & I had to put it under control. Mark gave me a nod, signalling it was time to start. He pushed on the left stick, and the heli rose three feet off the ground. Immediately the heli veered towards its right. And I struggled to take control of the heli. She kept on veering towards every conceivable angle. What’s worse, she took control over me rather than the reverse.

As the minutes went by my knees continued to knock together. My fingers were all sweaty & trembling. Then my left eyelid started to twitch from the stress. Those first fourteen minutes seemed to last an eternity. Many times, I wanted to request Mark to bring the heli down & just stop so I could take a breath. But I didn’t, and we finished that first flight - thankfully, without crashing.

Mark advised that the fuel level was low, and brought the heli down. When she was safe… I heaved a herculean sigh of relief. The first flight was finally over. I was a very happy man. Even though I did not say anything, the brothers Alcantara could see it on my demeanor, as if they could read it on my face.

I asked for a brief respite, and was graciously offered a chair. I took it gladly & sat upon it. I didn’t crash. I didn’t crash. Repeatedly, I told myself.

After some time, Mark & Alvin encouraged me to go for my second flight. I agreed I’d had enough rest. It was time to take the transmitter again.

I refueled the Shuttle, and Alvin started the engine. She was roaring again. I noted that something was different. I couldn’t tell what. But something had changed. It was only after the second flight that I realized what it was.

Mark brought the heli up again, same arrangement with me on the collective & him on the cyclic.

To my surprise, my hand wasn’t trembling anymore. I noted that neither were my knees shaking. All fear had flown away from me. I likewise noted, that my control over the heli was much better - it started to respond in the manner which I wanted it to. She still drifted, but there was obviously better control. Another fourteen minutes of hovering, this time - I was disappointed that the fuel was running out. I wanted more. More flying time.

Again, Mark landed the heli. I was offered a seat, and I gladly received it again. I was beginning to think of the monoblock chair as a “reward” of sorts. A quick drink, and I wanted to have another go at it. But the brothers Mark & Alvin were out of sight. They went back into their home. A few minutes later, they emerged. Alvin had a transmitter box in hand. Mark carried a trainer cord. I was shocked. They were thinking of making me take control of both Collective & Cyclic on my third flight.

I looked at Alvin & inquired if this was what he had in mind. He nodded, advising me that he was satisfied that my hovering was relatively steady. I do stress the word relative here. Mark had demonstrated what a “steady hover” looks like on a previous flight, and I wasn’t even close.

Both brothers again leaned over the heli, one transmitter each. They were adjusting the controls on the new transmitter - a Futaba 9CHAP (gotta get me one of those). After a few minutes, they had that task expertly done.

I was thinking to myself again. Oh no. I’m going to get all shaky again. Why am I on trainer cord so soon?

The Shuttle’s OS .37 engine was roaring again. Mark handed me the 9CHAP transmitter. Still shocked, I took it. He asked me if I was ready to go. I hesitated for a while. I thought to myself, what the heck!?! These guys are international champions! They know what they’re doing. If they think I can do this, then they’re probably right.

And… they were.

I took both sticks at hand, Alvin stood next to me. Mark had the main transmitter. Alvin started coaching me of what things I needed to do, and what things to expect. After a debriefing, he signalled Mark to give me control. A slow push to bring the Cyclic to half throttle sent the Shuttle hovering three feet. She began veering again in several directions. I was very surprised at how the entire heli seemed to have a life of its own. What’s worse, she started bobbing up & down too.

For all the advise that I’d been given to spend as much time on a simulator as I could prior to taking my first hovering session… I felt that the sim did not adequately prepare me for the cyclic controls. Perhaps it was just too windy a day. Nonetheless, I had fun. It was as if the Hirobo Shuttle were daring me… like a fine lass, urging me to take control of her. Barring a single tense moment involving a basketball ring, the flight came out better than what I had hoped for.

I flew another two sets with the same set-up, me with both sticks & Mark as back-up. Each minute that I spent hovering I seemed to be getting more control over the heli. As if, slowly - I was getting a better feel of her. Little did I know that I had become - a heli addict.

After my fifth flight, I wanted to do more. But, I was advised that I needed to rest. I obviously looked tired - all from the stress of that first flight. I was a bit sad, but I agreed. It was clear to me beyond a doubt, Mark & Alvin knew what they were doing.

I started packing up. And as I was taking off the Shuttle’s training gear… Alvin said something that had me shocked all over again. He said “Next time, we fly without the training gear.”

Yaaaauugh!

My reply to him was far from short.  I told him that I spend roughly nine (9) hours a day in front of the computer.  In the last three years, I didn’t find a place on the internet which I could call “Home for the Filipino RC Enthusiast”.  While there are many websites which allow Filipinos to join-in & post, the bottomline was that its still foreign-owned.  Several websites have been gracious, and has allowed threads & topics to proliferate in their space…  but its not about the Filipino.  Neither are the norms, culture & language of the Filipino prioritized.  Not to mention that finding a RC Flight thread in a website primarily dedicated to RC Cars never sat well with me.  I disliked this situation and decided that I’d do something about it. 

That, was all that I had told Alex.  He asked me if I was sure I wasn’t doing it for “the money” or for “fame”.  My reply was simply “Do you see me earning any money from it?  Do I look famous to you?”.  Since the obvious answer to Alex’s questions was and still remains - NO… we moved on and talked about his moderatorship next.  

But the truth is that my answer to Alex was incomplete.  You’re always on the rush when you know that your boss can hear every word you say (being only five feet away from me).  So, I gave a simple & curt answer.

But, exactly what is the complete truth?   

The main inspiration to finally go out and act on RCPhilippines came from a fellow whom I hardly knew.  In fact, it was only a few months ago when I first met him.  But I had heard of his name beforehand.  I first heard it at Duck RC.  Several flyers were at the shop, and talk about FAI was ongoing.  The news was that the Philippines was now registered again with this organization.  Someone… some generous benefactor(s) had in fact, shouldered the bill.  The name I kept hearing was JP Reyes.

The circumstances of my first meeting with JP were totally unplanned for.  A fellow by the name of Inigo Bilboa wanted to meet with me as he had heard I was selling one of my ehelis.  He asked me to come to JP Raceway.  Not knowing much about RC Cars & existing racing tracks, he had to direct me via cellphone to find it.  Upon arrival, I was shocked to see the massive & beautiful racetrack that was there.  While in awe, Inigo introduced me to the racetrack’s owner - JP.  We had a brief conversation, trying to get to know each other a bit.  I mentioned that I had heard about FAI & his involvement. 

It was then that I asked the question “Why are you doing this?”.  JP’s reply came as a surprise.  He spoke of how he dreamed to see Filipino RC Enthusiasts competing and winning in International Tournaments.  You could visibly see the spark in his eyes… definitely a dreamer, and yet… clearly a go-getter.

For me, that meeting was an epiphany.  There was someone else out there who wanted to make a significant contribution - to our Country, our Hobby and to the Filipino RC Community. 

Clearly, I do not have the same financial backing as JP.  Nonetheless, I decided…  In my own little way, I was going to make my own contribution. 

It may never be as grand and it may never even take off…  but, I decided I would build a place on the internet where all Filipino RC Enthusiasts could find… a HOME.

Thus… www.RCPhilippines.com was born.

It all started when I gave a good friend Gel Guerrero an old glider - a Windsoar 2.8 meter sailplane. Being a RC helicopter enthusiast, he had no idea how to fly these things. Accompanying the gift was a promise to teach him how to fly it.

Gel took the plane home and quickly brought it to top shape. Within a week, the Windsoar looked brand new. She now sported “interestingly faggish” colors. What was once a solid dark orange plane, was now orange, yellow, blue, green and red. Thereafter, friends and I dubbed the sailplane’s new owner “Mr Benetton”.

On our next visit to WFC Taytay, we had the good fortune of meeting our Club’s officers Jun Campos & Doc Glen Bulmer. It was the first time we met these gentlemen, who kindly welcomed us to the club. We also had a very good attendance of flyers that day. Lots of witnesses.

Gel was eager to give his Windsoar a try, so he carefully set it up. In a few minutes, he advised me that he was ready to go. I gave him a short briefing of the do’s & dont’s of glider flying… then we gave the glider’s powerpod-mounted .10 OS engine a start. In a moment, the engine was running. I had the transmitter in my hands, and Gel did the run & toss.

Soon enough, she was airborne and climbing at a gentle angle. After reaching a very good altitude, I brought the engine down to low idle & passed the controls to Gel. He looked like he was in an odd state of both wonder & nervousness. Moments later, he proved me right - sweating profusedly, he voiced out his desire to pass the radio back to me. But I insisted that he retain control and learn how to fly his own plane. There was nothing to fear, the Windsoar was at least ten mistakes high.

After fifteen minutes of roaming the skies, Gel complained of a stiff neck. To that, I only grinned. Its part of it afterall. Then he complained of sluggish controls. To that - I asked him to check if the engine was still running by pushing full throttle . The glider did not build-up any speed. I smiled to myself. Finally. A dead stick. Here’s where the real fun begins!

I watched Gel struggle with the plane for a while. When I saw the Windsoar had lost considerable altitude, I asked for the transmitter & took control. I noted that she was far from the flying field and very much downwind. Not good. There was a big decision to be made… do I risk it and go thermal hunting? There are duration records to be broken. Or do I bring her back to the safety of the flying field… and in so doing, end the flight?

I chose to be conservative. I pointed the plane back towards us, and pushed down elevator. The Windsoar slowly lost altitude, but started moving towards the safety of the flying field. I heard multiple gasps behind me. The older flyers knew there were thermals about, and were itching to go for it. I heard other voices, saying “Its so easy to fly longer than that. Why is he diving the plane?” More importantly, I heard someone say… “I thought you said this guy was a “glider king”? Why is he flying that way?”

Something inside me snapped.

From conservative glider pilot… I turned Gung Ho. I said to myself “It may have been three years ago when I last held on to a glider, but doggone it… I’m good at this”. A quick flight plan came into mind. And as quickly as I had thought of it, my fingers were putting it into action.

The Windsoar turned far towards the right side of the flying field. And I dove her even further to gain more speed. More sighs from behind me. But it didn’t matter. I was Gung Ho.

The glider was now less than a hundred feet in elevation, and roughly three blocks away from me. So I started my landing approach. There was a largish patch of tall cogon grass in front of me. I used it like a gun’s sights. I was aiming…

I was so absorbed in what I was doing that I failed to realize that nearly everyone present was watching. More importantly, that some flyers were dangerously close to me - standing only a few feet behind me on the runway. Only sir Jun & Doc Bulmer stood a good distance away, watching intently.

The Windsoar was now 500 feet in front of me, I kept her in a shallow dive. She was descending fast, and approaching even faster. When the sailplane was ten feet above the grass, I levelled her off. This caused the sailplane to lose much of its speed.

200 feet ahead, I dove the Windsoar a bit - bringing her closer to the ground and causing her to gain some speed. When the plane was only about 60 feet away - she vanished from sight behind the cogon grass.

This was the critical moment.

Fellow flyers thought that I was aiming for the patch of tall grass. They were sorely wrong. I was Gung Ho. If I might add - quite foolish too. In my eagerness… I failed to state my intentions to everyone around me. I think I thought they all had ESP.

What I had done that day, was in fact - almost a perfect text book maneuver: dive the glider a bit to give it speed. While it has good velocity - it hardly loses any altitude. Then you level it off close to the ground and fly the sailplane until it loses most of its inertia. Once the inertia is low, and the glider gets close to you… you pull full up elevator. This, so that the airplanes rises up, stalls… and gravity takes over. The trick is to catch the glider just as it is weightless. Now, does that sound easy to you? There is a lot of skill involved. The timing has to be right. Your ability to gauge distance, windspeed and the glide ratio of your aircraft needs to be very sharp. In the past, I’ve personally wrecked more than a few wings trying to get this one maneuver down.

In the words of one of the best glider pilots I know, commenting on the events that happened here: “That is the standard method. What is unusual is that the glider vanished from view”.

Back to the critical moment…

Just as the Windsoar disappeared behind the cogon grass, everyone around me relaxed. Then suddenly, the Windsoar rose up like a thundering Phoenix.

“Whoosh!”

Her three meter wings cast a vast shadow upon everyone… including me.

While I may have done this maneuver many times before, I’d forgotten that it had been three years since I’d last flown a glider or even attempted a hand-catch. In fact, as an afterthought - I realized that I’d only caught this particular plane once before (and that I vowed never to try it again).

So there she was - a giant looming nearly overhead… I don’t recall the precise inputs I made, but I did manage to stall her… a tad bit too high. Just as she stalled I brought her nose down, and she flew not too gently into my hand. I missed the fuselage by about six inches and managed to grab the wing. I was used to catching 2 meter gliders, which weighed considerably less. The Windsoar was easily double the weight of any of them. The force that hit my hand was so powerful, I could hardly contain it. I purposefully spun the plane to make it lose momentum. And that, she did with the tail whipping about until it finally hit the ground. There was some damage to the rudder, and a slight indentation on the wing’s leading edge where I had caught it. But otherwise, she was whole.

I heaved a heavy sigh of relief. I was so happy that I didn’t hit anybody. That of course, made me wonder. What happened to Mr Benetton? What about all of the flyers whose voices I had heard were so close behind me?

Back to the critical moment… as soon as the Windsoar suddenly appeared from behind the cogon grass, everyone ran like a bunch of frantic bunny rabbits.

To this day, guys at WFC Taytay joke about who ran first and who ran into whom. There’s also the story about who couldn’t run. The different versions of this as experienced by those who were there can be quite funny - if not hysterical. But… I chose not to write of it in that manner. Rather, I chose to write truthfully & honestly - to remind fellow flyers & perhaps teach beginners who read this - to remain conservative in your choices & bear in mind that safety comes first.

The lessons of this misadventure were deeply ingrained in me. The hand that I used to catch the Windsoar ached for nearly three months. An X-Ray revealed a microfracture. Pain is the price for being Gung Ho.