BEHIND THE SCENES
Air-to-air shoot of Nanchang CJ-6A
Flight of the Red Dragons. September 8 –12, 2004

I am sitting in the rear seat of a grumbling ex-military aircraft 3000 feet over the Nullabor Plain. We are part of a formation of three ex-Chinese Air Force Nanchang CJ-6A training aircraft that have recently been imported into Australia. It is near the end of a four-day journey that started at Moruya on the east coast south of Sydney, and we are heading for Perth’s Jandakot Airport where the aircraft will be based as part of ‘Fighter Combat International’ The aircraft will also be operated at airshows as the Red Dragon Formation Aerobatics Team. 

The flat brown desert-like landscape below goes on for mile upon mile and it never seems to change. The Latin name Nullabor is very apt, in that we have not seen a single tree for almost an hour and a half…in any direction. The colours are very easy on the eye though, the deep blue above us, the turquoise ocean of the Great Australian Bight to our left and the red and yellow desert below. The damp ocean air meets the warm inland air creating constant thermals that have us being buffeted constantly, it is quite mesmerising watching the aircraft rise up and down relative to each other like a flock of birds. My ears are ringing from the roar of the 9 cylinder radial engine a few metres from me, my legs are cold but my adrenalin is high and my memory is full of incredible imagery from the changing landscapes over the four days.

I was invited by Drew Searle - one of Western Australia’s most active warbird pilots - to accompany the formation and document the unusual event. Along with Drew are fellow pilots Denis Macneall and Paul Duncan to fly the other Nanchang’s. Drew and Denis are both ex-RAAF pilots with thousands of hours between them on aircraft such as the PC9, Macchi, C130 and Mirage. Drew went on to fly the B747 and Airbus in Hong Kong and regularly flies an L-39 Albatros out of Jandakot. Paul was the new kid on the block and joined the team after one of the owners, Darius Pavri, was unavailable at the last minute. Paul couldn’t believe his luck when he was invited on the trip of a lifetime.  

The aircraft actually had begun their journey a couple of months earlier when they were overhauled and decommissioned from the Peoples Liberation Army Air Force (PLAAF). They were then packed two to a container and trucked down to the docks for shipping down to Sydney. The aircraft were then re-assembled in Moruya, certified and test flown. Drew and Denis arrived early to check-out and do some shake-down flying before heading west.

The only hiccup we encountered, apart from the occasional bleak weather front, was undercarriage problems in Canberra. We had taxied to the holding point just prior to take off, I had taken my headset off for a moment, when I saw a red flashing light coming from somewhere behind me, then a yellow coated fireman running alongside us. Wafts of smoke were curling up from under the wing, fire? I undid my belt, slid the canopy back and was ready for a quick departure.

Paul said it seemed like one of our main wheels had overheated as the aircraft started to grab and pull to the left. So we gingerly taxied back to base. A couple of hours later we had the wheel off to clean what looked like excessive grease that had found its way onto the brake pads. Then we were on our way again however our second attempt to leave Canberra was also unsuccessful. Tower alerted us after take-off that one of the wheels had not retracted and after some initial confusion over who exactly had the problem the team returned to the ramp. We were beginning to wonder whether we would ever leave Canberra. Drew elected to call it a day and not tempt the ‘gremlins’ again that day. He explained that he was seeing a ‘chain of events’ lining up and that combined with the apparently deteriorating weather conditions to the west was not ideal. 

The next morning the sky was clear and the West Coast beckoned. Over the next four days the aircraft performed without a hitch.

The refuel and overnight stops were: Picked up the aeroplanes at Moruya in NSW. Flew across the Clyde Mountains to Canberra very, very bumpy. A hard ride. Two overnights at Canberra due to bad weather (ACT) and undercarriage issues. Flew across NSW to refuel at Deniliquin (NSW), then Renmark (SA). Overnight at a very cold Port Augusta (SA). More refuels at Ceduna, Nullabor and Border Village (SA), then cross border to refuel at Caiguna (WA). Last leg this day to an overnight at Kalgoorlie (WA).  One more fuel stop at Northam (WA), before arriving in Perth 1300 on the 12th .

Each leg was about 2 hours duration with a total of eleven fuel stops including Moruya.

The aircraft are registered as; VH-FCD, VH-FCE, VH-FCF.

Photographing the CJ-6A

I had photographed the Nanchang CJ-6A to a very limited degree before from the ground. What struck me shooting it air-to-air was how different it looked at almost every angle. I had never seen this in an aircraft before, usually aircraft almost always looked a different view of the same aircraft. The Nanchang changed from a Zero (from the rear), to a Dauntless, Avenger or Devastator, to a PC9, then to a Second World War Japanese carrier aircraft. 

One of the highlights of the journey was just off the cliffs of the Great Australian Bight. Despite the ideal backdrop this would prove to be a technically difficult shot. The thermals here were still in evidence so it was a delicate balance photographically. Air-to-air portraits should really have lots of propeller blur, not frozen blades. To do this though, you need slow shutter speeds, which in still air is no problem. But here the air was very rough and the planes were bouncing all over the place. The trick is to have just enough of a shutter speed to freeze the aircraft but not the prop, not an easy trade off. I gingerly pushed the canopy back to get as clear a shot as possible, and the view was stunning. We followed the rugged cliffs as they wound their way west against the rich blue water. Below us Whales and their calves breached with sprays of mist,. Truly an incredible visual treat – my task was to somehow capture that moment in time. 

CJ-6A Background
There is a widely held misconception that the Nanchang CJ-6 is a copy of the very similar Russian Yak-18 or Yak-52, it is not. This is a wholly indigenous Chinese design, based on a requirement by the People’s Liberation Army Air Force (PLAAF) for a successor to the underpowered, steel framed CJ-5, which itself was a licensed version of the Yak-18. It was underpowered and therefore not the most ideal aircraft to train their future jet pilots. The Chinese decided to design their own aircraft and opted for an aluminium structure, a metal that was abundant at the time and in mass production in China. The Russian Yak’s on the other had used a tubular metal framework.

Work on the new aircraft was started in 1957 at the Shenyang Aircraft Corporation, then moved to the Nanchang Company in 1958. Twenty one days after this move they had a completed aircraft. From the outset the all aluminium CJ-6 was designed as a rugged rough field training aircraft, designed to be left outside for prolonged periods, then able to be started almost at once. Unlike western training aircraft that use hydraulics, the Chinese used pneumatic systems for the flaps, undercarriage, wheel brakes and engine start. This means the aircraft does not freeze in cold conditions and of course air is an endless resource. The familiar audible sound of air venting during any of these actions is something that becomes a very memorable part of the Nanchang experience in the air or on the ground. The aircraft is fully aerobatic, stressed to plus 6.5 and minus 3 G. Seating is in tandem with both cockpits with the ability to fly the aircraft from either.

A total of 1796 CJ-6’s of all versions were built from commencement of production until 1986, with the majority being used (still) by the PLAAF. In fact the CJ-6 was awarded a National Gold Medal in 1979. Other examples of this venerable machine were exported to Albania, Bangladesh, Cambodia, North Korea, Tanzania and Zambia. The CJ-6 is being seen in increasing numbers worldwide as a very affordable, nimble, reliable and survivable warbird. The CJ-6A looks like a warbird, it acts like one and it certainly sounds like one. It’s 285 hp Quzhou Housai HS6A supercharged 9 cylinder radial engine, has an extremely deep throaty roar. When this thing starts up, heads turn.

The ease at which this aircraft encountered and handled all sorts of weather conditions and rough field landings during our journey, made me see just what a superb training aircraft this is.  Ignorance largely drives the belief that Eastern Bloc technology is inferior, this is not true. Their systems are designed for conditions that are right for them, as simple as that. Problems occur when we change the goal posts and expect the machines to perform to a different set of parameters than what they were designed for.

Keeping in formation

Being an air-to-air photographer generally means the flights are usually for short, quite violent, very intense periods of up to an hour at the most. I am too busy trying to get the shot and my pilot is equally busy trying to avoid hitting other aircraft and keeping us all together in frame, that I have never really had the time to learn to fly myself. During this four day journey I learnt something of the arcane art of flying in loose formation. If you have never experienced it, trying to keep a loose formation of aircraft together in three dimensions when you are being buffeted around for hours on end is not easy. It’s a bit like three people trying to keep their balance whilst standing on balls in choppy water and all trying to move in the same direction – in formation. I know this is obvious stuff to all you aviators out there, but it’s something I have never had to really think about, or had the time to discover.
So at 5000 feet with the three of aircraft spread out in loose formation over Western Australia, somewhere between Caiguna and Kalgoorlie, Drew says those loaded esoteric words “Jon, do you want to take the pole?” followed closely by “Handing over”. Instantly I would grasp the stick with a vice like grip, place my feet on the rudders, and in amazement I would watch as the other two aircraft drifted away from us on the horizon ever so slowly. This meant that we, and not them, were heading in another direction entirely. This should be easy I thought. Not a chance. “So Jon, why are we drifting to the left?” Drew would calmly ponder. Every corrective move I made, had us moving further away from the formation, or over compensating. Okay, so what was I doing wrong?

Drew’s patient, but firm tuition soon made me realize that by relaxing and slowing any movement down, the aircraft was easier to control. Rather than the energy-sapping grip on the stick, I was to use just the tips of two fingers on each hand, and rest my hand on the ’G’ ring on the stick and my arms on my legs. He would even have me wiggle my toes and little fingers to relax my grip and feet on the controls.  So this means that we were conserving energy and therefore fuel by using small, efficient moves, rather than aggressive moves that I would then have to counter later on. So control meant keeping the aircraft aligned and heading in one direction….all in a three dimensional environment. The rudder pedal (using both feet) kept us heading in one direction laterally (Yaw), while the Joy stick activated the ailerons at the end of each wing, this kept us from rolling left or right. The same stick if pushed forwards or pulled back, makes us climb…or dive. All these axes had to be worked in unison with the end result that the aeroplane would fly on a constant heading. 

Drew said ‘You have to constantly scan the horizon left and right to check your wings are level, whilst keeping the other aircraft in the SAME relative position on an imaginary point on your canopy, plus keep your eye on the black ball at the base of the artificial horizon gauge in the centre’. It took a lot of concentration and any small movement changed the aircraft’s attitude instantly, as the Nanchang is so light on the controls. 

We flew over mountain ranges, over flat red expanses of desert, river flood plains, scrub country, cities & villages, farms and stations, forest and ocean. Everywhere we landed people came out to meet us, the throaty sounds of the radial engines soon bought people out of the woodwork! It was a superb experience and one that I will remember for a long time. Okay, so your legs can get cold, as does your posterior, you go a little deaf as well. You learn quite quickly that it is very prudent advice to go to the toilet before you take off, as airfields are few and far between. But the rewards of sitting in a machine with all round visibility, with two other aircraft just like you, seeing your country slide by in all its varied colours and moods, is simply astounding. It is an intimate view that aviators know as it is their workplace. It is a rarefied world that is in some way both lonely and spiritual. I feel privileged to have experienced just a small slice of it.

Thanks to Drew Searle, Denis & Kay Macneall, Paul Duncan, and Fighter Combat International.

All photography and text © Jon Davison 2004.