edi malinaric

Members
  • Content Count

    1773
  • Joined

  • Last visited

1 Follower

About edi malinaric

  • Rank
    Enthusiast
  • Birthday 07/24/1939

Contact Methods

  • Website URL
    http://
  • ICQ
    0

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Cape Town

Recent Profile Visitors

9203 profile views
  1. Hi Jeff... - cut a length of blue tape just less than length of the slide - now trim the width of the tape so that is just less than three times the width of the slide - lightly stick the tape onto a plastic surface (long side running left-to-right) - now the fun starts - fold the top 1/3 of the tape downwards and the bottom 1/3 of the tape upwards and the bottom will stick to the top. You now have a flattened blue tube of the correct size with the "stickyness" on the outside. - peel the tube from plastic surface and position the tube onto the slide. (I have a length of steel "bristle" from a street sweeper truck that I slip up the hole of the tube to apply pressure to stick ~ 70% of the tube firmly to the slide). - stick a block to the top of the blue tube - pick up hammer and cross your fingers Hope that helps. cheers edi
  2. Hi Anthony -what's to get annoyed about? Those guys are just enthusiastic beginners. Apprentices use an Optivisor Journeymen makers might invest in a stereo microscope. While the true maestros who have an insatiable desire to look deeply into our art have access to a CAT-scan facility. cheers edi
  3. Hi Bill - my experience of hiking at night is that there always seems to be enough starlight to stop you being stupid. We once attacked one of the longer local climbs. We left camp ~ 06h30 and hiked across a valley and started the climb ~ 08h00. Initially we made good progress. However slowly it got warm, warmer, hot, cooking, roasting - eventually the temperature went way past 40C. The rock became too hot to hold (~60C+). You used a handhold for as short a time as possible and blew on your fingers to cool them. This slowed the rate that we climbed and we reached the summit well after sunset ~ 19h00. It was a moonless night but we worked our way off the mountain to reach our camp at 01h30. Nobody felt like climbing the next day. However my worst ever was cloud. Four of us were climbing one of the bigger local buttresses. We were about 60% of the way to the summit when clouds started to condense around us. We knew that it was a precursor to a cold front and that it was going to get a lot wetter and colder. Our rucksacks with our warm clothes, waterproof gear and grub were all at the bottom of the climb. We were all experienced and knew enough to abandon the climb and get the hell down off the mountain. Luck was partly with us as we managed to traverse off the buttress and onto a plateau from where we could connect to a footpath that skirted a waterfall and would get us to the head of a gully that would lead us off the mountain. All this time the cloud was thickening, the wind was strengthening, the temperature was dropping and we were getting damper and more uncomfortable. By the time the cloud had thickened so much that we couldn't see our knees we got the idea that we might be in trouble. Not much point in hunkering down and sitting it out - it could build up to a right real storm - temperature could reach single digits and nobody was going to notify Search and Rescue. Hell - we were all members of S&R! What we (there were 4 of us) did was to form a line holding our neighbour's right shoulder with our left hand. No 1 would flip a pebble in front of his invisible boots and take a step only if the sound of the pebble indicated that there was something close ahead. It went slowly but eventually we got a 4 second delay between stone and echo! Aah - we now knew we were standing at the top of the waterfall and also that we were close to the path. We continued pebble/echoing our way - gaining more confidence as we learnt that on clean rock you could "read" the path through the soles of your boots. Off-path the rock felt like 60 grit sandpaper - on-path it felt like 600 grit - almost had a soapy feel to it. We found out way into the gully and as we descended, the cloud thinned until we could occasionally see the ground, we began increasing our pace until we were leaping down the scree like demented mountain goats - laughing like crazies. We broke out from under the cloud and found that, in our joy at having avoided greater stupidity, we had overshot the contour path that would have taken us to our kit! We didn't make like mountain goats climbing back up the 300/400 ft loss in height due to the overshoot. Anyway we regained the contour path, found our kit, sat around re-hashing our experience while brewing up a "cuppa". We slogged back to the car in almost total silence. Good friends can do that. Once was enough - but still it's interesting how quickly you can learn a new skill when necessary. cheers edi
  4. Hi Catnip - Have a look into the "case history" of Latin - and despair. My wife, Rose, used to teach Latin. She had very little trouble picking up the rudiments. The cousins loved her for it. cheers edi
  5. Hi Bill - nice one :-) I found myself mulling over - if I had got the door open - was the procedure for deploying the slide idiot-proof? I would assume that it would be completely self-sufficient. A fellow glider pilot retired as a senior captain flying 747s on International flights. He once remarked that he was always the last man to leave "his" aircraft - after a walk-around to check that everyone had left. Never thought to ask him why. cheers edi
  6. Hi Romberg Flat - I'm going to agree with you - but with a proviso. My Dad came from Primorje and Mom (from Lika) was forever going off at him for talking to me in "dialect" not "proper" Croatian. Now Primorje is an area on the coast ~ 5km deep by about 30 km long - separated from the interior and "civilization" by a ~600m high ridge. This coastal strip has a long history of being under Roman, Venetian and Austro-Hungarian rule. I once apologised to Zelko, my cousin, for my poor Croatian and his reply was revealing - "No, it's surprising, but you speak with absolutely no accent at all. If I didn't now your age (~ 50 at the time of speaking) I'd assume that you were in your 90s and from the village. The professors would love to record you." Yeah - yeah - I decided that Zelko was laying it on a bit thick and he would have made an excellent politician. A few years later my wife and I arrived in Ljublanja and decided to have a "cuppa" at a bistro before motoring on to Zagreb. A pretty young lass came to take our order and I greeted her. She broke into an ear-to-ear smile and burst out with "you're from Primorje" and wanted to know all about our travels. Apparently she heard her great-grandad in my chatter. I left - mentally apologising to Zelko for my unkind thoughts. Over subsequent visits Zeko and I have found that I use words for tools that he doesn't recognise - usually they will have an Italian slant to them, while his will have a German derivation. He was born and raised in Zagreb while my only contact with the language was from my Dad who grew up on the coast speaking the local dialect. Grandad was an Architect and work in Europe was not too plentiful at the time. In 1902 the Anglo-Boer war had come to an end and Grandad decided that an end-of-war offered good opportunities for an architect and so headed out. This was the beginning of a cycle of 3/4 years in Africa followed by 5/6 years in Croatia. In 1926 my Dad joined this cycle and was trapped in South Africa by WW2 effectively locking his language into a time warp. cheers edi
  7. Hi Dwight - in Slav the letter "C" comes in three forms - plain or with a comma or tick over the letter. Each has a different sound. When Anglicising the name "h" and "k" get slipped in an attempt to approximate the original. Malinaric should be written with a comma over the "c" - but English just doesn't have the sound for that letter. Often a "k" will be added but that ends the name with a very hard "-ick" which is nowhere near to the very soft, half-swallowed "ich Don't despair - it's nowhere as puzzling as my Uncle struggling to get his tongue around "thought" and "sword" Then I'll leave you with a perfectly understandable phrase - to any Croatian... "Gora gora gora gora". Freely translated "there's a big fire burning high up on a mountain". However the subtleties of the pronunciation are beyond me. cheers edi
  8. Heaven help us all if an ex-fracker decides to drill the peghole centrally from the end of the peg :-) cheers edi
  9. Brutal? You guys want brutal... As the good book says - the bigger the problem, the bigger the hammer! The patient survived the treatment. cheers edi
  10. Hi PhilipKT - the youngsters have a much better strength/weight ratio than adults. Great advantage - being lighter they can get away using smaller handholds. Not fair ;-) El Capitan - A son of a friend of my wife returned from climbing in the USA and he was telling me about his climb up El Capitan. Impressed me no end - especially the amount of hardware that they used. Anyway somewhere in the conversation I happened to mention that I only carried 1 sling and carabiner - for abseiling. His eyes grew big "you free climbed". Guess if you know nothing else... Luck - edi
  11. Hi PhilipKT - I guess I was just lucky - my interests matched my physical and financial conditions almost perfectly. I used to rock-climb - let me tell you about my near-to-last abseil. On Table Mountain I had a favourite climb, Barrier Frontal, that I loved to use with beginners who showed promise. The climb was nothing special but the return to the ledge from where we set off was a 60' cliff face. Nothing like a unexpected first abseil... The belay was a perfectly positioned rock set in about 500mm from the edge of the cliff. I was first down - to demonstrate - and my climbing partner would send the others down to me. What we didn't tell them was that the cliff was about 5' higher than the abseil rope was long :-). So my job was to play catchem! I "nappied" my sling, showed how to wrap the rope around my body and was on the point of dropping over the edge. The most awkward step in the abseil procedure of starting is to get below the edge of the ledge. What made me glance at the belay I'll never know - while chatting to the beginners and demonstrating I had lifted the loop of the rope belay completely off the rock. I went cold all over - not so much at the thought of oh-so-nearly plunging down backwards to the ledge below - but the realisation that I would have taken the rope down with me - stranding the party at the top of the cliff. cheers edi PS i) - some years later a committee member asked me to arrange for an eye to be forged from 20mm stainless steel. They then drilled a hole and epoxied it into place at the top of that cliff. That improved the safety of the belay point - but did they have to position it so that the standard climbing rope was now long enough to reach the ledge? Spoilsports! ii) - I also free climbed down that face - never could work out why - maybe to satisfy myself that the party could have made it down. Climbing down is far harder than going up. I was most of the way down when my leg muscles began jumping - a bad, bad sign. I began thinking how stupid I was - finally my fingers just opened and I fell to the ledge - all of 6". I guess it helps when the stupid ones are sometimes just born lucky .
  12. Hi David I preferred having my PAX in the front seat - and generally we treat them gently. It's hell to have to clean out the cockpit. :-) cheers edi
  13. Hi PhilipKT - we have a condition here called a Black South-Easter. A low pressure system develops on the east side of a mountain range - the wind blows the air against the range - the air gets deflected upwards. That is wonderful. If you are on the upwind side of the range - you can "surf" along the range for hundreds of km. - balancing ridge lift against against diving to fly faster - net result is that you barrel along at high speed at zero-sink. Thrilling and boring at the same time. Some times the band of lift is no more than 20 - 30m deep - and the sailplane has a wingspan of 15m! So there you are - dashing along with one eyeball keeping a close watch on the gap between wingtip and "cumulus granitus"- while the other eyeball is desperately staring straight ahead - trying to look through a buttress for that idiot of a friend who is doing exactly the same - but flying in the opposite direction! You think that trick is impossible? Nothing like practice to learn how to squint outwards. ;- 0 OK - that's the quiet part. Lets follow the air up and over the ridge. Inertia lifts the air ~ 50% higher than the height of the ridge above the level ground. This is then the limit of your height gain while flying ridge lift. (you rarely go there because the maximum vertical lift is against the mountain - also much more fun flying there.) As the air is lifted it cools down and becomes denser than the surrounding air - and like a tennis ball - if you throw it up - it eventually falls down - same thing happens on the downwind side of the ridge. That cold, denser air plunges downwards -maybe avalanches would be a more accurate description. How violently? Our CFI took an aero-tow into the maelstrom - released at 6000' AGL - carried out his post release checks - lifted his head out of the cockpit and just had time to flare, drop the undercarriage and accept the ground run. He was lucky - his landing coincided with a piece of levelish ground. The downdraft was of the order of 9000fpm. OK - that's only half of the downwind story. When you compress air it heats up (think pumping up a bicycle tyre - the end of the pump gets hot). Well, the same happens to this waterfalling plume of air - it gets warmed up, its density becomes lighter than the surrounding air and when it stops descending it takes off straight up like a watermelon seed squeezed out between you fingers - maybe a little slower than 9000 fpm - but not by much. The variometer (vertical speed indicator) just can't follow - as you fly through the shear planes the needle slams from max-up to max-down in splits of seconds - and you are either being dragged down by the safety belt or trying to push the seat out through the bottom of the fuselage. That's not too bad - meeting the shear plane head on. The real fun comes when you come in at an angle - then one wingtip ends up being dragged downwards while the other is being forced upwards - instant half-roll and inverted - pull out as though it's a loop to get "heads-up" and wonder how you managed to now be flying up-sun when you could swear that only seconds before you were heading down-sun. (The compass is totally useless when the air is gambolling like this). That is aerobatics gone mad. In the middle of all this insanity you offer a small prayer to the foresight of the licensing authorities who set the G-limits of sailplanes at +9G/-6G. My personal endurance in the washing machine spin-cycle was ~ 10 - 15min. You then withdraw slightly away from the mountain into smooth air, regain your breath (or maybe just resume breathing), tighten up your harness straps and dive in for another session of "being alive". Yes - when flying a sailplane you can experience more than +/- 1G accelerations. You are on a commercial flight at 30 000ft - bored to tears - "ding-dong" - the pilot tells everyone to buckle up as they are expecting "'slight" turbulence - the plane starts bouncing - the wings flex - the overhead luggage racks creak... - the passengers that sit straight with a stupid grin on their faces are glider pilots. Aah - air that's alive. cheers edi
  14. Hi Nathan - never met the brothers - before my time. :-) cheers edi