Flown West - Richard Warriner

On 4 August, an accident in Sussex took the life of Richard Warriner. One of the UK’s most enthusiastic aviators, Richard was also an active FLYER Forum member known as Whiskey Kilo Wanderer. Here’s a few memories of Richard posted by forumites…

Rob P

J ust as it was for many of us in the FLYER orbit, I had bumped into, passed the time of day with, nodded to Whiskey Kilo Wanderer and Champ Chump at fly-ins, ad-hoc gatherings and Bourn’s Burned Children’s Day. I make no apologies for using forum names, you get to know people well over the years, and I am still having difficulties with ‘Richard’. He’ll always be WKW to me.

It was a rather sad meeting, this one. The December weekend the restaurant at St Omer closed for good. A few St Omer fans had proposed we fly-in for the last night. “In December?” I had queried. “Sure,” said Hatz.

It wasn’t a bad flight over, needless to say I was the only one stupid enough to fly there. Hatz came on the ferry, Richard and Nic by camper van.

It was a memorable, boozy, chaotic night, tinged with sadness.

The next morning I walked up to the aerodrome, it was deserted, windswept, intermittently raining. The forecast had given a slight promise that it might clear, so I stood there with my luggage wondering what on Earth I could do while waiting, when I was hailed. Richard stomped across, “No use standing in the cold, come and have some tea with us,” he said.

The start of about five or six hours of conversation, reminiscences, funny stories and occasional supremely hopeful glances out the window at the ‘definitely-notclearing’, leaden sky. I recall there were biscuits, too. Eventually, possibly early afternoon, I binned it, said my goodbyes and trudged back to the Ibis, hoping they had a room free.

There are a lot better things to do than sit around St Omer aerodrome in December. I am sure that Richard had plans for that day. But he never mentioned them, simply devoted his day to providing me with warmth and shelter.

We have nodded to each other since, fly-ins and chance meetings. I always assumed we’d sit in an airfield café one day and reminisce about the foolishness of flying to Northern France in December, and then being surprised when the weather took a turn for the worse. Now we never will. It makes me profoundly saddened to realise it.

Ridders

I first bumped into Richard (and Nic) at an impromptu fly-in that Jeremy Atkins and I arranged at Peterborough Conington, back in 2007. It turned out to be quite a gathering, and I was impressed they made it in the Rans, as there was a stonking headwind northbound!

Over the years I always valued Richard’s postings on the forum, and in the end we had quite a lot of chatting offline. He had a knack of getting people to push themselves. He persuaded me to go and do the CRI rating at Andrewsfield in 2010. In fact, I am pretty sure he had written a magazine article about his experience. That was the beginning of regular chats and discussions and many meet-ups at various fly-ins and events. I always admired his aircraft – the number of GPS devices and systems he had installed on the aircraft was simply impressive. Even more exciting that you could see all the wiring and gubbins through the panel and the RO Bear in charge of comms at the front.

Richard was always just so very laid back, calm and knowledgeable, he would listen intently and then offer sage advice. Such a wonderful guy to talk to. Our last discussion was a few weeks ago and we talked for, well – I looked it up on my phone – two hours nine minutes! Mostly because I can talk for England, but also we just talked about all sorts of things, our aircraft, our flying, my work… you name it, we covered it, and he helped me immensely. It was his nature.

He revalidated my SEP rating a few years ago. We did it in the Rans. He knew that aircraft so well, he was at one with it when he took control (after my hamfisted attempts!). Together we explored all edges of its flight envelope. It was a great learning experience for me, in a much lighter airframe aircraft and we had a great time.

The Saturday before the incident, we had been picnicking at a fly-in at a farm strip, with the ladies. Richard’s was the very last aircraft to leave. Shortly before

this, myself and Richard had walked down to help push a Jodel out of a rut, each of us either side pushing on the walkway. It was just how he was. Rather than leave when other people did, he stayed and helped.

Richard left the farm strip shortly after, the usual short ground run (it was an amazing machine in his hands), waving to us alongside the runway as he climbed and departed. Up into the overhead he went and as we waved goodbye from down below, he waggled his wings at us, fixing his course homewards.

Bye-bye Richard, you are missed so very much, by many, many people. I believe the kindness and knowledge that you instilled in people lives on forever, within everyone that knew you.

XX

I first knew Richard in the early 1990s, as the neighbour of a friend of my late husband. We all used to go to the pub on Friday night where Richard always had something quietly witty and funny to say, and of course he talked about his flying. I wasn’t interested in aeroplanes in those days but took up the offer of a flight in ’WK’ as a means of getting me into Goodwood Festival of Speed without queuing in traffic.

Having made the trip to ‘Narnia’, as I always call the route into the Heathfield strip, I was alarmed at how small the aircraft was, but decided to go anyway. I was absolutely hooked on flying from about 50ft up after take-off, and thereafter spent many, many happy hours in ’WK’. I threw up over Richard several times (still get airsick sometimes) and we had lots of adventures.

I decided to have a go myself and Richard bought my first 10 hours of tuition. His thought was if something bad happened while flying with him, he wanted me to know what to do.

I got my PPL and progressed. I flew to Tempelhof two days before it closed and Richard was with me on that trip, offering advice and reassurance.

Over 20 years we continued to discuss flying experiences that went wrong, and also those which went right, and I learned much from his wisdom and experience. Away from flying, he was also incredibly supportive when Pat became ill.

On Monday this week I had the rear seat controls of the two seat Spitfire from Biggin, and purposely, and with prior warning, flew over the Heathfield strip, where Richard and the farm owner were watching and waving.

On Tuesday morning I spoke with him and he was giving me some advice about elderly family care. As usual he said, “Just call me, any time of the day or night.” And then just a few hours later the news came through. Absolutely devastating, and I’d lost a true best friend.

I forgot to mention earlier, but it was Richard who introduced me to the FLYER forum, which has led to meeting many delightful forumites on different occasions over the years.

Defcribed

Never knew the guy (I’ve only ever met four of you forumites – and even those I don’t know at all well), but some of what has been written here has brought a tear to the eye.

Certainly read a lot of his posts. They were a sort of constant on this forum. Constantly pleasant. Blue skies.

Richard and ‘WK, his Rans S6. As a duo they accumulated over 5,700 hours flying together

Pilot Barry

I worked offshore and I was due to return to a ship which Richard had joined. I knew he was a pilot through offshore connections. However, I managed to wreck myself and my aircraft on my leave so obviously could not join the ship.

Richard, whom I never had met, sent me a ‘get well’ message and that stayed with me for a long time. I then moved south and started to meet Richard at various fly-ins. He thought nothing of flying for two or three hours for a few hours chatter or, as others have said, flying disadvantaged kids. A thoroughly decent bloke who will be sadly missed.

Dave W

I came to realise that if we were at a fly-in, and Richard and Nic weren’t there, then that was likely for only one of two reasons. Either we’d just missed them, or their joining calls were minutes away. Actually, there might be a third reason: I needed to attend a better class of fly-in.

And when they did arrive, Richard would quietly get on with… being Richard. Chatting, helping out, advising on things like PAW installations, confirming that, ‘Yes, I do have enough GPSs in the cockpit, thanks’, and being tranquil.

Others have already drawn a link with when we lost Keef, and the similarities are so close for me. I knew immediately both were much wiser and more level headed than me. Both I knew, first mainly from here, yet when I did meet them IRL they were – gratifyingly – exactly as their online personas suggested (not always the case, as we know!). And both, to quote a fellow forumite, ‘brought tranquility with them’.

I suspect each would be pleased, but protest, at being compared with the other like that. (Partly why they are, of course.)

Richard, I am privileged to have known you.

Jim and Pat Dalton

When organising an event like the Bourn Butty or the Burned Children’s flying day, there was a list of key attenders that I could rely on to actually get in on the day and make it a success. So, it was always a relief to see Richard put his name down immediately when I published the details.

One particular Burned Children’s flying day the weather was pretty rubbish first thing. Richard was able to get in as the local viz improved and lots of others also made it later in the day as the general weather improved. We had a fabulous day and Richard as usual flew the pants off his little red and white flying machine smiling the whole time.

I once asked him why he liked the Rans so much, to which he replied, “Well we did 220 hours in it last year and had money for more. Wouldn’t have been able to do that on the same budget in a Cessna.” He lived for flying that’s for sure.

Richard was an absolutely fabulous bloke. It always lifted our hearts when we saw him.

He was always great to talk to and one of the few that lived his dreams. I mean, blimey, that man lived in the air and was always a great person to be around. He was a real live Aeronaut.

CloudHound

Two years ago Richard and I went flying in Cloudhound for my revalidation flight. Although I’d met him before, it was our first flight together. He suggested we did something instead of bimbling and asked me what I was rusty on. Practice forced landings! So we climbed overhead Kittyhawk Farm and I demonstrated just how rusty I was! After a few with some hints from Richard we were happy.

I’d mentioned not knowing where his strip at Heathfield was, so he suggested we go and find it. The ruddy gert big mast adjacent made the NavEx easy and I did a low approach and go-around. I was a bit tardy applying power and raising the nose so the trees at the end started to loom. Richard pointed to the escape route and all was well.

After landing, doing the paperwork and one of Jack’s cuppas, we went our separate ways. It was only that evening I noticed he hadn’t signed the entry in my log book. I called him up and he said, “If all else fails I can always do it next time.”

So today was a nice day and a friend and neighbour had asked me to take him for a jolly. We took off and didn’t fly over Heathfield but instead went round the coast from Eastbourne to Seaford passing a two-seat Spitfire along the way.

I did look over to the mast and thought of that day and hoped he liked my better landing today.