Up and away !

I have always wanted to discover what it felt like to be a passenger in a hot air balloon. Though we do have huge amounts of hot air around us, hardly has anyone tried to pump some in a large balloon and hover peacefully above our towns and villages in an attached cradle, on a calm summer evening.

I worked very hard on the idea of making this project a real life adventure. My only ally was Uncle Lippu, who after long years working at the Dry-docks, seemed to me a great inventor.

The last time I discussed the project with him was during a barbeque that my Dad organised on the beach for our family and some other friends. Uncle Lippu, as always, topped the list on such occasions. It seemed that his vast knowledge was not only limited to mechanical gadgets, but it also covered other areas, judging by the loud bursting laughter of all his listeners.

It was all thoroughly planned. We were to construct a huge strong paper balloon. This was easier said that done, as sheets of a giant size were not easily available, the nearest paper-mill being thousands of miles away from our place. The alternative was to glue bits and pieces together, taking great care not to make the whole too heavy and run the risk of crashing under its own weight.

The sketch diagram that Uncle Lippu drew included a windlass with an enormous length of thin strong rope in a corner so that coming down would be no problem if the hot-air system failed. We knew little about the scientific part, but knowing that hot air moves upwards, together with Uncle Lippu’s prowess, everything seemed all right.

Knowing that Joseph and Etienne Montgolfier’s discovery in 1783 that a fabric bag filled with hot air would rise, and that to-day balloonists can soar up thousands of metres in the clouds, were of little practical value to us at this stage.

We intended to take with us Dodger, the poodle, Tipsy the cat and Rocker the canary. I had once read or seen on film that for safety reasons it was important to have travelling with you some animals.

Using my scanty pocket money I bought a blowlamp, which was to be used to warm the air inside the balloon, taking great care not to bring the flame too close to the paper balloon. Fuel was to be supplied by Dad’s camping gas bottle. The tasks were very secretly carried out in Uncle Lippu’s shed at the back of the garden. The space between the orange and lemon trees was earmarked for take-off.

But unfortunately our project was doomed to failure. Everything was well in place: the large paper balloon seemed to behave well, the air was constantly being warmed and the whole thing rising up, the animals oblivious of their destiny were looking quite well, we were well poised in the raffia basket underneath, our relatives ready with white handkerchiefs to wave goodbye, when all of a sudden a rending sound of paper being torn made our hearts sink.

Little we realised that the cats in the neighbourhood chose on the previous night to make our balloon their home. Their claws had pierced innumerable number of tiny holes, which weakened the fabric and ruined our trip.

According to Uncle Lippu all great inventions had a very humble beginning. But ours was, besides, disastrous.

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