I was newly divorced, and getting used to living away from what had been my home and family. One evening, I had a phone call from my boys, Edward and Alastair, then aged 11 and 9. "Come and see what we've got Dad" was all they would say, so I called round at the house. Sitting in the lounge was a part built Flair Cub, which had been given to the boys by a friend of my ex. Apparently he had been given it as a leaving present from a previous job, had got partway through the build and then lost interest. The boys had admired this on a visit, and had subsequently brought it home as a gift.

Some gift - the kit was complete with a Magnum 25 engine, and a Futaba SkySport 6A radio, complete with servos and receiver! "Can you finish it for us?" was the question both boys asked. "Well, I suppose so" I replied innocently, not realising that I was committing myself to several months of graft and a very steep learning curve. I had always been interested in model making, first with the old Airfix kits, followed by Keil Kraft gliders and a Phantom Mite control liner and then in my teens and twenties with model railways, getting as serious with the latter as time and money would allow (not much with three young children). Therefore, I reasoned that building a radio controlled plane shouldn't be too bad. Ha!

Back at base, and a thorough inspection of the 'gift' revealed that it had not been too well assembled. The fuselage was far from straight, and the cowl looked completely wrong - the rear formers had been glued right behind the front nose former, making it impossible to fit the wrap around ply cowl. The wing also didn't match the instructions, until I realised that the plane was the four channel version with ailerons, but I didn't have the additional instruction sheet for the aileron assembly. I decided that the best thing would be to start again, so I carefully separated all the pieces which had been assembled with white glue, and then set about replacing the parts which couldn't be salvaged.

In the meantime, I started buying magazines, and bought the David Boddington book 'Building and Flying Radio Controlled Model Aircraft'. As I read more, things started to fall into place, and the Cub started to rise, phoenix-like, from the box of bits. Of course, I also started to realise that I was going to need more gear. Lots of gear. Things like a flight box, or at least a glow igniter and a fuel pump, not to mention a covering iron. Then of course there were the consumables like glow plugs, fuel, wing bands, wheel collets, props etc etc.

DW Models in Bridgend (plug plug) were kind enough to let me borrow the missing wing assembly sheet from one of their kits, and I photocopied it next door at the office supplies shop. Armed with this the wing came together quite well, and after about three months I was ready to start covering. This was an education in itself, but with a bit of patience, a fairly neat job was the result. The unusual colour scheme came from a web page, long since gone, of a guy based in the Isle of Man. He had developed the scheme from his daughter's cheerleading uniform, and very eye-catching it looks too.

I had made contact with the South Wales Radio Control Society fairly early on, and visited the flying site a couple of times to see what the score was. I duly paid the necessary fee, and got my membership sorted out. A few weeks later, the plane was finished, and I was ready to have a go. On the next suitable Sunday, Vicky and I drove to the field with the plane, and Derek checked it over for problems. Everything was to his satisfaction, so the engine was started, and he lined it up for the maiden flight.

Let me tell you, the feeling of accomplishment and excitement as the Cub took off was really something. I just couldn't wait to get the buddy box hooked up and start learning. In the following weeks and months, I practised as much as possible, within the constraints of job, children and new girlfriend. There were little triumphs along the way, such as the first landing, the first time off the buddy box, all building up to taking my 'A' test the following year.

What about the boys I hear you asking. Well, the weekend following the first flight, I took them up to the field to get them started with the instructor. They seemed to get on quite well, but the next opportunity we had to go flying I got erms and maybes. "Well, it was a bit boring really". Kids!!