I was just informed that Australian Stunt flier Ken Dowell passed away.
For those who dont know Ken - I will post some information on him below. This is very sad news to me personally, Ken Dowell for many years was actively involved in my local club and was once an excellent stunt flier winning the Australian Nationals in 1963.
He personally helped me over many years as my full time stunt coach - specifically getting me ready for the 2004 World championships meeting me at the field for many weeks full time as I took time off from work to compete.
Ken was an excellent judge who judged at many Australian Nationals, will be sadly missed by many - none more so than me...
Ken was at the field the Day I test flew the Lancaster Bomber for the first time and was one of one 2 other people whom I allowed to fly it through a pattern so I could witness it from the outside circle, I respected his opinion and his skill as an aeromodeller.
I do not have anymore specific details as to his passing, Im still in shock.
He was 70 Years old..
Below is some information from his Stunt Biography.
Ken Dowell 1942 - 2012
This is going to be one l-o-n-g story. I say long because, if for no other reason, my cranial grey matter is diminishing at an ever-increasing rate and remembering exactly which memory links with other memories takes time.
My aeromodelling began in 1950 when I was a short-pants little kid, all 8 years of age, and after I had finally convinced my father, and against my mother's wishes, to buy me a "model plane like those up at Highfield Park". At this time, I lived just off Highfield Road in Camberwell (Eastern Melbourne suburb), and Highfield Park, just 400 yards up the road, was the local flying field. Like all boys my age and interested in these planes, I had a "model-plane-flying" hero. My "hero" just happened to be one Tony Farnan - he who could fly any kind of model and make it do such wondrous things in the air. One of my most vivid memories of Tony is his "Square Four", or was it "Four Square" - the fastest thing I had ever seen on lines, yet he could do anything with it. I'm jumping the gun a little here.
My "first plane" was some ultra-fragile free flight kit that my father brought home. Whether it was simply to stop me from pestering him or the beginnings of some genuine support for my "hobby" (it wasn't exactly a hobby yet, more of a "I want to copy my hero" demand) I never did work out. After spreading more of the Tarzan's Grip cement on my bedroom carpet that on bits of balsa wood, I was ready to cover this thing with the tissue supplied. However, my mother's foot put an end to my first ever model plane! I clearly remember dad telling me that I should not swear at my mother - it was an "accident" (I knew better) - he would see what he could do about getting me another plane. To this day, I have no idea what words I used in the course of "swearing at my mother" but probably repeated what I heard my 16 year old brother saying without having any idea what the words meant. (I'm trying to paint an angelic picture of myself here.)
Another kit arrived - this time a rubber-powered "thing" - nothing like anything I had ever seen before. Although this plane survived my mother, it didn't survive my building technique (technique?) when, up at the park a few weeks later, it left my hand, "flew" for a whole perhaps 10 seconds, then performed the most graceful vertical dive you could imagine. Back to square one, and a wait for my next model.
One of my neighbourhood friends also picked up this "bug", and together we conspired on how to further our interest in these planes. We even pooled our pocket money, resulting in his father coming home with something else entirely "new" - a jetex powered plane. For today's readers, jetex probably needs some explanation. A "jetex" engine was simply a small metal cylinder with a very small hole at one end. Into this cylinder was placed some little tablet-like things and an "ignition wick" that looked like the wick to a firecracker. In other words, a simple solid fuel rocket engine, but with the safety of very slow burning fuel. I'm sure every reader will be familiar with the '60's television show The Thunderbirds - jetex engines were used for the simulated jet aircraft etc. The plane was, of course, fabricated with stringers, had to be very, very light weight, and was covered, fuselage and all, with tissue. To avoid my mother's feet, it was built at my friend's home. Some weeks later, it was ready - the big day. His father came with us to watch our triumph. He lit the fuse thingy for us and away it went. We learned three very important lessons that day - (1) that those twists in the framework of our plane really are important in that it shouldn't be twisted at all; (2) balsa wood, tissue, dope and jetex engines are not the best of partners together; and (3) a model plane that suddenly changes into a flying fireball is "spectacular".
Perhaps it was just the times - the particular era (no television either) - but these failures made us more determined than ever to successfully build and fly model aircraft. Thereafter followed many, many models of all shapes and sizes, all free flight as the control line planes that "our hero" flew at Highfield Park were out of our range - the engines alone cost more than could ever be accumulated from a 10yo's pocket money, but we contented ourselves with whatever our fathers would bring home. Without realising it at the time, we were serving our apprenticeship in aeromodelling, learning the do's and don'ts the best way - by experience.
June 2003.
The model was - "Pacer" with Moki 51.
Also around this time, I heard of a "club" that the other fliers at Highfield Park belonged to, and just from listening to the talk, I knew that being a member would be a good way of learning more about control line flying. I was also, by this time, growing tired of placing the future of my planes into the hands of the gods. These free flight gods apparently didn't like me, as the remains of countless planes showed. I was amazed too at my mother's agreement to me joining this club. So I came to join ESMAC - the Eastern Suburbs Model Aero Club - and went along to the next meeting at the Hearn's Hobbies factory in Whitehorse Road, Mont Albert. I had never imagined that so much balsa wood could exist in one place. The machinery, the bits of planes (looked like bits to me), the whole scene was pure magic. I learned later that I was only the second "junior" to join the club. It took some doing, but my father would drive me to the meetings and sit in the car waiting. I just sat in a corner and listened, and learned, and called everyone "Sir" when I was spoken to, and became more enthusiastic by the minute.
I was also extremely fortunate in another way. My mother's sister (my crabby old aunt) lived within sight of Surrey Park in Box Hill, so my requests to be driven on Sunday mornings was readily agreed to. When there, I was "in the big league" with people such as Monty Tyrrell, Alan Lim Joon, Norm Bell, and all the other "Surrey Park regulars". I am in the background in one of the photos in Australian Aero Modelling's Report on the Hearn's Trophy, but I'll leave you, the viewer, to find it. Today, they are names in history, but to me in the 50's, they were GODS !
How small can our world be sometimes? When standing in Surrey Park with the embankment and pavilion on your right, you were facing North, and the nearest house, which together with a couple of vacant blocks backed onto the Surrey Dive (an old water-filled quarry), was a white plaster-rendered brick villa unit. The resident of that house, together with her Granddaughter, used to sit on her back veranda and watch the "boys" with their model aeroplanes. In 1970, that resident became my Grandmother-in-Law; her Granddaughter my wife! I have since learned what that resident's view of aeromodelling was - "Those boys are having good clean fun. It's better than having vandals roaming the streets looking for mischief to get into." (Today's note: Perhaps times need to change back to then!)
Back to the '50's.
Some weeks later, dad picked me up from the morning Church Sunday School and told me that we were stopping at the Park on the way home. This was a first! Apparently, he had been to see "Mr Farnan" at the Park without telling me, for when we arrived, "my hero" led me into the middle of the circle, put this round handle in my hand, and told me to wait there. One minute later, "my hero" is standing behind me, his hand around mine, and " I " was "flying" a small little solid wing trainer. Sure enough, I was soon giddy from the turning around and promptly sat on my nether region ('bum' isn't politically correct today). As I later learned, this was my new "plane" - a Hot Rod Trainer with an Albon Javelin 1.5 diesel engine - all put together and ready to fly without the problem of more Tarzan's Grip on the carpet.
It's amazing what happens behind little kid's backs. Suddenly, early on a Saturday morning, my Dad says "Come on" and we're driving over to Mr Hearn's factory, where I earned the huge sum of 10 shillings for walking around and around a big bench packing kits for such wonderful planes as Hot Rod Trainers. Mr Hearn (Keith) drove me home - I was so dazed (so I was told later) that I didn't even thank him. I was fortunate in spending many more Saturdays packing kits, and Keith (still "Sir" to me then) used to make it a Pound (20 shillings) if the time exceeded 4 hours.
My mate and myself progressed through the basic trainers in a process of "make them better" and "make them faster". Doing afternoon newspaper delivery rounds by bicycle gave us the money for "super" engines like ED Bees and ED Racers, and we dreamed of "bigger and better" planes. There was also the "fun" side of our learning process. A couple of examples live on in my memories. We would use sticky tape to hold a bubble canopy onto the top of a square fuselage, with a mouse inside the canopy - our own version of a medical science experiment, but we never had a mouse survive! (How's that angelic picture of me coming along?) With the memory of one jetex fireball clear in our minds, we would buy a large firecracker, about the size of a cigar, and slip it into the back end of the fuselage - start the engine then light the wick to the "threepenny bunger" - and most times the plane was in the air before the spectacular bang changed the plane into a powered dive bomber. A new back end, and the plane would be back next weekend for more of the same!
I cannot now remember exactly when, but around this time "my hero" Tony Farnan bought one of the two Milk Bar shops in the group on the corner opposite Highfield Park. That shop quickly became a Hobby Shop as well - walk in the door, milk bar on the left and hobby shop on the right. You would enter the shop, and there was Tony with a plane, or part of, in his hand. There was no better learning experience than seeing how the "expert" built his planes. To this day, as an aside memory, I still possess the commercial-type ice cream scoop that my mother bought from him.
We had our serious planes too, and now and then my big brother would let me use his camera. This photo (right) is my mate (the inevitability of getting old - I cannot remember his name) with our hand launch "speed machines" - well, they were speedy to us. One had a Taipan 1.5 Diesel and the other an ED 2.5 Racer with the twin exhaust. What were they really? - glorified trainers. Progress was slow - and changing to Secondary School made it even slower. Lack of money was solved by doing the higher-paying newspaper delivery runs at 5am six days a week, but time, schoolwork, and my mother's view that my "hobby" was foolish was the problem now. Even lessons on a Piano Accordion were "better for my own good" than playing with toy aeroplanes.
However, the mental activity of the hobby still continued, and new ideas - hundreds of them - merged with the little experience we had, although at the time of course we thought we knew it all. That particular early-teenage syndrome applied then just as much as it does now. We were progressing from glorified trainers to "real" planes - and closer to being able to do what our heroes did with their's. I was actually encouraged to buy magazines, as reading was a "good" way to idle away the hours. Hence, many a bright idea for "something new" came from the English "Aeromodeller", and was actually the amalgamation of many little things, and many of those, of course, were not all that compatible with a control line aircraft.
One of the "flavours of the month" was the new military aircraft appearing in the Royal Air Force pages, such as the gigantic Vulcan bomber, the Vickers Viceroy, and numerous others. My mate's latest acquisition was a Glo Chief .19 engine, but what was a suitable plane for it? As ideas merged, a different type of stunt plane was born. Pictured at left, it was constructed from two lengths of two inch square blocks suitably carved and hollowed. The elevator linkage was our "masterpiece of engineering"!
It flew like a brick! - not that "proverbial brick", but a real brick!
But, it served its purpose - a few more do's and don'ts added to the growing list, with the don'ts certainly out-numbering the do's. It was now around '56 or '57, and a quantum leap had been taken in engines. By this time, I had a Frog 500 Glo engine, but these new OS MAX engines were something else altogether! Unfortunately, so was my mother's insistence that my time would be better spent on my schooling, so aeromodelling was banished from my life for a couple of years, or until I was big enough physically to stand up to her.
Model plane flying at Highfield Park had by now been banned by the local Council, but therein lies another story - of a somewhat bigoted and nasty old member of the legal profession who could not possibly still be alive today (2003). It became known that Camberwell Council had received complaints about model planes in public parks. My father knew someone in the right place, and we knew just "who" the complainant was - a highly prominent member of Melbourne's Solicitor set. He lived more than twice the distance as I did from Highfield Park, but his complaints were numerous and carried weight. We actually observed his Sunday morning routine. He would be out with his motor mower and, just after 10am, he would stop his mower engine and listen for a model plane engine from more than half a mile away. If he heard one, he went inside and (as we later learned) phoned the Council's By-Laws Officer, then returned to his mower, re-started the engine, and continued. It was learned later, at a Council hearing of the ESMAC appeal, that a "ratepayer" had a free flight model land on his roof. The model's owner politely asked to be allowed to retrieve it, and was refused. This "ratepayer" was our Sunday morning lawn mower man! Of course, a bunch of model aeroplane fliers was no match for a seasoned veteran of dramatic debate, and the ban stayed.
In later years, ESMAC did succeed in getting a flying field within the City of Camberwell - the rear of McLeay Park in Belmore Road, Balwyn. This lasted for a whole three weeks! Why? - Because a father-son team of modellers chose to ignore the "Sunday Morning Only" hours and used it on a Saturday morning. A gentleman approached them about the park being for Sundays only, and was told "Who cares about the bloody Council!" That gentleman was the By-Laws Officer. Council convened a special meeting the following Tuesday, to withdraw the McLeay Park approval and, to the best of my knowledge, model flying of any kind has never been permitted in the City of Camberwell since that day. ESMAC tried in vain to have that withdrawal overturned, on the basis that the offenders were not members of the Club, therefore not subject to the Club's control, but the damage had been done. In actual fact, on the Saturday in question they "were" members of the Club, but were expelled as soon as it was known that they were the cause of the loss of the one remaining venue for flying, and by the time Council had ESMAC's explanation before it, the offenders really were no longer members. That's the way the game of law is played!
Once again, I have digressed. Back to the '50's.
In the History section, there is a reproduction of a 1957 Model News advertisement for the Ramrod. If this model was good enough for my hero, then it must be the best. However, after two Montgomery Kit Ramrods, learning to fly all these manoeuvres as well as Tony did was proving to be an expensive process. There was also a Stunt Queen, a Calamity Jane, and a few other popular models of the day, and they all suffered the same fate. But it was all "experience" of one kind or another, and it led me to building my own "versions" of other models - to improvising when what would have been the best couldn't be afforded or was not obtainable. Pictured Below is one of those "bit of this, bit of that" models.
Below is my beloved Spectre - the only stunt model I had in these years that outlasted all my attempts at inverted flight and the new way of doing horizontal eights, not the "lazy eight". That Spectre was the first ever model that I didn't crash - it fell apart in mid air. It had an Enya 19 instead of the usual OS 15, and it flew a little slower. This also started my passion for the Enya, a beautiful little motor that was quite happy in a larger-than-normal .19 sized model.
In '58 / '59, ESMAC held a "Semi-Scale Stunt" competition, with the idea that the model had to resemble in some small way a real aircraft, but not to the extent of near true scale. Today, it would be called "Stand Off".
The model had to do the full pattern, which at this time was the English SMAE pattern, similar to today's Classic pattern. I was already fascinated with Bob Palmer's "Hi-Boy" published in American Modeller, so I used that as a platform for my entry into what was my first ever "competition". The model at right was my ever-faithful Enya 19, and my first venture into the world of high-wing stunt aircraft. I won the appearance award, although the ESMAC transfer probably helped, but not the flying. But I learned. And I continued the high-wing concept for quite some time too, together with many other types of models. I even tried a few Combat models, but only for fun and not for contests. Looking at the photo of myself aged 17, (the other guy was Stan Williams - who foolishly gave away flying for girls!) I find it almost unbelievable that I ever looked that young.
The high-wing concept concluded in 1961/62 with another Enya 19 version, and an OS 35 version of that was scheduled for the 1962 Nationals, but that's another story. The .19 was my second model to never be pranged, but simply die of old age.
However, after Tony Farnan won the 1959 Nationals with his now-famous Blackbird, I began to think seriously about competition flying instead of the casual Sunday mornings. Attending the Rosewood, Queensland Nationals was out of my league, but I became much more serious about the style and type of aircraft I selected to build and fly. After a couple of quickly-built Thunderbirds (Mk I) and Noblers (original 52 inch span), I was hooked, and set myself the goal of following in Tony's footsteps and winning a National Title. I went to the Echuca Nationals in 1961/62, but was model-less as I was in too much of a hurry. Throwing caution to the wind in practice isn't worth it if you can't fly in the intended competition. I also discovered a nifty way of "learning" exactly what competition is about if you can't fly in it - participate in the organisation side of them. Two years of Contest Director work at various contests prepared me for the "nervousness" of competing.
Easter 1962 at Casterton became the first stepping stone toward that goal - a Third place with a Thunderbird Mk II. Another Third in the State Championships with a Nobler. At Casterton, Ken Taylor's new "Shark" impressed me, and everyone who saw it. At that same time, Trevor Woolnough and myself had both commenced a Private Pilot's Training course with the Royal Vic Aero Club at Moorabbin. Part of that course was a very extensive and intensive Aeronautical Theory component.
Seeing the benefits of the larger model like the Shark, and using that just-learned knowledge, the Angelique was born. There have been comments such as "Looks like a bigger Thunderbird", but that is where the similarity ends - it "looks like". It is unique in many, many ways. I mention somewhere else that compound-curved wings are a real bitch to sheet cover, and they are. As the 1962 Camden Nationals approached, I was fast running out of models. Even the .35 Hi-Boy "expired" in practice. So, the first airing of the Angelique, with a Fox 40, was Easter 1963 at Geelong. It still wasn't exactly what I wanted, but it was well on the way toward it. Three more Angeliques followed, but none were destined to see competitions until the 1963 Nationals at Strathalbyn. Daryl Hartshorne was impressed by these early Angeliques, so there were two examples at Strathalbyn. You can read more about them in the Snapshots section. I achieved the goal I had set myself almost four years earlier - a National Title.
For those who have, or seen, the Angelique plan, it was drawn immediately after that Nationals. Every Angie I built thereafter was almost exactly to that plan. Daryl played with different engines, different nose lengths, flying on different line lengths - but they all flew much the same except that Merco .49's overpowered it enormously. At right is John Gadsden's Merco .35 version in 1964.
Competition-wise, I had success in Hearn's Trophies and Stuntmaster's Trophies following the Nats, but I never flew in another Nats. When I flew in competitions after Strathalbyn, it was a return to the "social flying" I had set aside in 1960. I remember being asked at Melbourne the following year why I wasn't "defending" my title. I replied that I only ever wanted to win the "Title"
Ken Dowell's last Angelique in 1966 - Merco 35 (no muffler) in 54 ounces.
I departed the aeromodelling scene in mid-1966 under very difficult circumstances. At some stage in our life, we all make one monumental mistake - a mistake that defies reason or logic. I made mine in '66, and never flew competition again. I dabbled in Radio a little in the '70's, and again for a couple of years in the '80's, but up to this date (26th March, 2003) I have not flown a control line aircraft since a display at the Geelong Nationals in 1972.
Am I interested in returning? .. Well, at 60 years of age, one can not do what one did at a young 21. My interest at present is meeting up with "friends" from years gone by - in some cases around the 40 year mark. This website is essentially the result of "catching up" with people such as Ken Taylor, Doug Grinham, Daryl Hartshorne, Brian Birch, Des Thiesz - and many others - people who were a large part of my life many years ago.
I am sure Herb Hanna will not mind being quoted from an email just a few days ago:-
"Isn't it a great hobby we have! How many other people around us in our working life do you know who have any clue of where the people they knew 40 years ago are now."
To conclude this lengthy "Personalities" page, I'll return to the Geelong Nats 1972. It was arranged for a number of past Nats winners to fly demo flights on the big Public Day at Queen's Park. For this purpose, I borrowed Bill Davis' Angie, as it was built faithfully to the plan. I took a friend and went out for a few practice flights at a park in Ashwood, now an artificial surface Hockey Field. It seems that the glide-on lead-out clips were not closed correctly, for on the first flight, the down line "broke". As the Angie did tight inside loops, I tried easing the line tension to bring the loops down to a skimming level. Before that could happen, the up line parted company too. I just stood in total disbelief as one Angelique free-flighted across the field, perfectly flat and straight, across the side road, through a front garden, and into a lounge-room window. The resident was away at the time, but her neighbour said it sounded like a light aircraft falling onto the house. Fortunately, the lady was most "amused" with the event. Years earlier, her son had played around with model aircraft on the very same field, but not with these consequences though.
There is a lesson there for the design "purists" - aerodynamic balance is more important than where the physical Centre of Gravity happens to be.
To all who read this - Happy Flying, or Happy Memories, as the case may be.
Ken Dowell.
Below is one of the last photo's of Ken on the far in the Red Hat - Hard at work Judging at the 2004 Australian Nationals, his knowledge will be sadly missed - Im pleased to have known him and the time we spent together.
Seeya Mate - P.J Rowland
2005 State Championships - Head Judge.
Topic: Another one gone : Ken Dowell 1942 - 2012 - Australia. (Read 2494 times)