Part 5

Birthday candles

My sixtieth birthday was drawing near and my daughter Rae asked me what I would like to have as a birthday present. A piece of furniture for the garden, something for the house to make life easier for me, what did I have in mind? My thoughts moved beyond the house, beyond the garden, and I picked up on another of her suggestions. A hot air balloon flight over the Yarra Valley.

I so wanted to be free of the confines of this stroke, limiting me in what I was able to do. I could envisage myself floating above the world; as free as a bird, and not restricted to a staggering walk or a sense of imbalance. To be detached from this present state of things, and to have the opportunity to see the greater picture would help me put my life, my work and my ideals into the proper perspective. I jumped at the suggestion! Yes, it was all that I wanted. On the day of my birthday, Alli produced a large box wrapped in purple paper and tied with gold ribbons. I opened the box and was taken aback when a large purple helium filled balloon floated out, followed by a stream of ribbons. There at the end of the ribbons was a open voucher for a balloon flight and a champagne breakfast.

I kept the balloon hovering near the kitchen ceiling. Every day I would look at it, and its promise, and it would inspire me to work towards being well enough to take the flight. It was not until January 2001 that I decided the time was right. I could now balance myself well enough and walk without limping. So I went ahead and booked the flight for a Wednesday in mid January.

We were up early on the day of the flight, as we had to leave home at 4am to travel to Dixon’s Creek in the Yarra Valley. Most flights are organised to start at dawn because the winds are most stable and predictable at this time. It was a very professional and highly organized activity. Our team consisted of two balloons and two pilots, who are currently qualified light aircraft and helicopter pilots. However, their passion is for this first form of air travel and being in charge of a balloon is their preference.

Up and away

Nothing could ever come near the experience of the flight. If I had thought that I would be drifting along and would feel the breeze on my face, I was totally wrong. The balloon moved with the wind, so from our frame of reference there was no air movement. The stillness surrounding us was eerie. We were the wind. We were part of this force and we were contained within it. The earth slid slowly beneath us as we hung in mid air, isolated and silent.

I had the urge to hold my breath. This sense of being suspended in space and time was overwhelming. I had no desire to speak to my fellow balloonists and to thereby break this incredible spell. The occasional roar of the gas burners as our pilot ascended was the only sound that filtered through to my ears. It was like a religious experience. We were half way between earth and heaven, a view that only the birds had witnessed. We were no longer earthbound. We moved slowly and purposefully, zig-zagging our way through the various levels of wind. South at 1500m, then west at 250m – sometimes just clearing the treetops, and at other times, high enough to see Melbourne and have Port Philip Bay in our sights. This was accompanied by gentle creaks and sighs as the balloon and basket ventured up and down or just hovered.

The journey was better than I could have possibly imagined it would be, and is now another experience I hold dear; another memory to keep forever. We landed gently, and the basket rolled onto its side. But nothing could take the grin off my face, it seemed to be fixed permanently. I had wanted to take this flight for many years and now I had achieved it. As I crawled out of the basket, I realized that nothing would stop me from doing anything that I desired.

Hot air

After our landing in a farmer’s paddock filled with rolls of newly cut hay, the team repacked the two balloons and we were all ferried back to De Bortoli’s Winery where we indulged in a sumptuous breakfast. As we sipped our pink champagne and feasted on the culinary delights before us, our pilot entertained us with the history of balloon flight and its intrinsic link with champagne.

In 1782, while watching his parlour fire, French papermaker Joseph Montgolfier noticed small particles of soot floating up the chimney. He experimented with a small silk bag, lit a tiny fire under it, and watched in delight as it floated to the parlour ceiling. He coerced his brother to join him in experimenting outdoors with larger silk bags, soon to be known as balloons. In September 1783, they demonstrated their invention before King Louis XVI and Queen Marie Antoinette.

The first untethered and manned balloon flight took place in November, 1783. The King suggested two criminals on death row should be given the chance for freedom if they volunteered. However, Jean Francois Pitone de Rozine suggested that the honour of such a venture should go to more illustrious names than to those of common felons. He and the Marquis d’Aulaider were thus chosen to be the first men to fly.

The organisers, unsure whether the balloonists would land in friendly territory or would meet an irate farmer who might accuse them of scaring his livestock, produced a bottle of French Champagne and handed it to the two men. As explained, it could either be given to the angry farmer to appease him, or used as a weapon to club him senseless, while they made their getaway. If everything went to plan, the bottle could be opened and all could share in the celebration. The flight was successful, leaving Paris and travelling a distance of 12km in 25 minutes, and the champagne was consumed. A toast was proclaimed to a new form of transport, and a new tradition linking balloon flights with champagne had begun.