WEE DRAM

A local showstopper

Chris Palmer

Summers must have been like this in the past before Freddie Laker, package holidays to Benidorm, and the lure of continental sun. Those halcyon days that tourist boards now wistfully remember as holidaymakers in their thousands headed to Ayr for a fortnight by the sea.

Then it would have been the beach, a mile of golden sand, beach huts and donkey rides. Postcards to relatives, a fish supper and Stanley Baxter at The Gaiety.

This year, the thousands heading to Ayr in the first weekend of September had warm clothes, their own seats, picnic ware, throwaway barbecues, windbreaks, and, of course, binoculars. For safety reasons the beach was a no-go area.

The International Ayr Show – Festival of Flight is a fixture in the calendar which transforms Ayr. Walking along the promenade on the Saturday afternoon it was a delight to see so many families – two or three generations – relishing the spectacle. I had the perfect vantage point. A first-floor balcony at a friend’s house at Seafield. Tea, lemon drizzle cake and a panoramic view.

The highlight of the afternoon was of course the Red Arrows followed swiftly by the Typhoon flashing past in the blink of an eye and shattering our eardrums. Immediately preceding these two familiar and exciting performances was another showstopper. The extra element to this was a local connection and that instigated my desire to meet Hamish Mitchell (AKA Captain Ham), the pilot of seaplane, Wee Dram.

It may have lasted only eight minutes, but Wee Dram’s display had to be within a strict timetable, an agreed choreography, and placed in the afternoon’s timetable to coincide with high tide. The regulations are strict, Hamish emphasised to me, but it was evident from the very start of our two-hour conversation that he took great pride in his performance and that it was a privilege to be part of the show.

For the thousands who witnessed it live, and the many more who will have viewed the YouTube recording, there can be no doubt about the skill involved in negotiating the elements, following the agreed procedures, landing on the sea and then taking off again. Those eight minutes demonstrate the capabilities of his Cessna 172 seaplane.

The striking element of my two hours with Captain Ham was his emphasis on how he views the Ayr Show in its broadest sense.

“The Ayr Show is wonderful, but I feel that it is a shop window for Prestwick Airport and the extensive community that is attached to the airport. I want the show to inspire future generations.”

There is no doubting Hamish’s passion for the Ayr Show. He recognises that it is a huge success for the town. However, he wants the positivity to be tapped into something more permanent.

“What about an Aviation and Science Museum? It could have a café and a viewing area. There could be school visits. The excitement for young people is still there. We need to create a destination. We need to inspire future pilots, engineers and air traffic controllers.”

As he described his vision, I could see the eight-year-old boy whose interest was sparked on holiday on Anglesey. Next door to his grandmother’s house lived an RAF fighter from a mining family in Auchinleck.

James Watson took Hamish flying in a Cessna and sat him in the cockpit of a Hunter jet. He was hooked. A life devoted to aviation in many shapes and forms was always on the cards. That has included the RAF, air traffic control and his own successful seaplane pilot training company. He even, with two friends, wrote and published a children’s book based on his charismatic, distinctive tartan-painted plane.

When I pointed out that for a town with so much history, Ayr’s lack of a museum, let alone an aviation museum, is a shameful omission, he agreed. Local history, including archaeology, is another passion. He is such a colourful character that I could have spent another couple of hours with him. Both of us, however, had to move on.

As we were about to leave the Robert Burns Birthplace Museum where we had met for our illuminating conversation, he produced a copy of his children’s book for my grand-daughter. He’s always thinking of the next generation. An excellent memento of a fruitful meeting.

I sincerely hope that Captain Ham and his seaplane appear in the show next year. His cautious response to my question about it suggests that, whilst he is very keen, it is not certain. As he suggested so often in our conversation, the most important element in the Ayr show is the excitement shown by young people.

Maybe within them is the future Captain Ham. Now, wouldn’t that be a notable success?