By Rod Douglas 

Most pilots have heroes. It’s a perfectly human thing to do. Mythical beings that do the unimaginable with an impossible level of ease and grace. The reality is often different but heroes have a key role to play for humanity. They provide the motivation for us mere mortals to drive beyond ourselves and reach for the places where only gods stand. They lead from out of reach and keep us inspired as we ride out the challenges that would otherwise send us deep within ourselves and often beyond the point of giving up.

My heroes have always fallen into two camps. The business people who changed the world and the pilots who made the world smaller. The collision between these two is an intersection that is reserved for a very few. They are adventurers in two realms, the creation of value and the exploration of the boundaries of physics.

One of the Australian greats for me is Dick Smith. A bloke who’s lived life to the fullest and never seems to say never. He’s brought together the remarkable combination of Aussie tenacity with the creative smarts of a driven entrepreneur and never let a lack of formal qualifications stand in the way of any goal.

More about Dick later.

Every pilot loves a fly-in. For many any excuse to get in the air is enough but when you’ve got that excuse, plus a great mob of other pilots on the ground, a great day can be expected. When that group also includes lots of notable Australians it’s going to be a great day.

However, sometimes life intervenes. When it comes to Australian aviation, life often intervenes with the failure of someone to deliver the goods. Once again the purveyor of my favourite plastic fantastic single let me down. So instead of the beauty of a run down through the unusually green agricultural pastures of western NSW, I and three of my kids were on a kero burner to Canberra.

You’d have to say that the failure of general aviation to deliver a consistently good experience is in part the result of the degradation of the proud tradition that aviation has had in Australia. One interesting statistic that always amazes me is the fall in private and business flying hours from 580,000 hours in 1990 to less than 380,000 in 2008. This country is the perfect place for aviation to thrive with space, predominately clear skies and few mountains yet governments of both persuasions see little value in stimulating or even supporting an industry that should be bringing hundreds of millions of dollars in training revenue into the country’s coffers every year.

It’s one of the many causes that Dick has fought for over the years and it’s a battle that needs all the reinforcements it can get. He’s done it from the front line as chairman of both the CAA and CASA and he’s done it from the jungles as a private citizen. He’s certainly taken collateral damage to his reputation from both fronts. And he never gives up.

I remember being little more than a lad when I first heard Charlie ‘Tremendous’ Jones say that, “the difference between the you of today and the you of tomorrow, will be the people you meet, the books you read and the places you go.” That poignant and powerful piece of advice has always defined my view of the world. I like to strive to become all I can be… so, I constantly ask myself - who am I meeting, what am I reading and which new places will I visit now to grow?

Visiting Bowylie for me almost always results in an extension to who I am. Gundaroo is an amazingly little historical town just outside of Canberra with history that stretches back into the 1820’s when it was settled following the discovery of Lake George. It houses a veritable collection of powerful Australian characters, many of whom move as part of the circles of machinery that make up our national government. Yet it is a beautiful historical backwater that maintains the best of that which makes so many country towns bastions of community.

When we’re down, we always stay with the king and queen of the Australian environmental movement Phillip Toyne and Molly Harris Olsen and their gorgeous boys Aaron and Atticus. These two demonstrate that wonderful Australian spirit of contributors who throw open their home to all who come and listen (apart from the fact that they’re so bloody busy that the only way I get to catch up with them is to camp at their kitchen table and wait for them to show up).

 Without them I would never have got to know of the Bowylie experience, nor had the opportunity to explore the amazing patch of history that it is. All our kids get on superbly well and a bloody good time can be expected.

So it was just dumb luck that lined up our week long swing through Gundaroo, Swan Hill and Melbourne with Dick and Pip’s Bowylie fly in. Molly had sent me an email with the date and an invitation to fly in so I took it up. We landed in Canberra on Saturday morning and grabbed the Toyne kids to paint the town blue with a quick shop followed by the required afternoon exploring Questacon. 

Sunday dawned bright but very overcast with the feel of an approaching storm. After feeding the kids and the required few hours of racing madly around the beautiful gardens that sprawl around the Toyne homestead we headed off to the fly-in in a very dirty Landrover Discovery.

I distinctly remember the first time I heard about Bowylie several years ago. I was talking with Molly on the phone and she told me she had to go as she was due to take the kid’s rollerblading. I innocently asked where she was taking them. Her response, typically off handed, was ‘oh on Dick Smith’s runway’. I just laughed. Dick is anything if not pragmatic and a few thousand feet of tarmac is a perfect rollerblading track so why not let the local kids use it?

It reminded me of the first time I’d ever taken any real notice of Dick. I was still a school kid. Dick was in full flight getting his name out there and promoting the business in any way he could. I’d heard him on the radio saying that he was going to take a jumbo under the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Well blow me down I couldn’t believe it. Dick Smith was going to fly a jumbo jet under the harbour bridge!

I consulted with my best mate Mike Wortho who was, from the moment I met him, going to be a Qantas pilot. I figured he’d know if that was possible. After much too-ing and fro-ing we decided that it was probably possible but that no one could possibly get permission from the old CAA to do that.

It’s all a bit vague as to how it happened but I convinced my dad to take me to Kirribilli to see this amazing feat. I can’t remember much about it except that it was on a school day and there was much debate in the house about me missing school to see something so pointless. Eventually Dad took me down there and amongst a pretty big crowd we stood waiting at the appointed time with eyes pointed skyward for the 747 to appear and thrill us all as it swooped through under deck, less than 100 feet off the water. We waited, and waited and eventually the crowd started to get restless, then up went the cry… there he is. On the water, standing on a barge with an elephant beside him was Dick with a broad smile on his facing waving frantically. Dad was none too impressed. I thought it was great.

Dick’s legendary status was embedded within me.

Of course that was one of just many stunts that did a sensational job of making the name of Dick Smith synonymous with that of the smart Aussie entrepreneur that he is.  His best known stunt was his commitment to tow an iceberg from Antarctica into Sydney Harbour to solve the water shortage.  I bet there are a number of state governments who would be happy to stump up for that solution today had he succeeded. If the polar ice is going to melt why not put it somewhere useful right?

Often heroes have a larrikin way about them that allows them to get away with that which would be impossible for most of us. Dick certainly fits that bill.

Eventually Dick moved from activating the masses to support his business to using his well earned wealth to take on truly inspiring adventures that amazed and astounded all who took notice. It was the start of a transformation from maverick to legend and resulted in him being named Australian of the Year in 1986 after he became the first man to fly around the world solo in a helicopter.

His adventures in helicopters, balloons, fixed wing aircraft and even cars are well documented, but have, in their own way turned him into a one man producer of history. And a generous one man producer of history. For Dick has pretty much always taken it beyond himself by looking to share his adventures with Australians and the world. Some see him as a shameless self promoter, to which I suggest he would raise his hand and say “guilty as charged sir”, yet the outcome of his self promotion has been to deliver an enormous community benefit.

Dick is a proud and resilient Australian. Few people have the personal insight to be able to set extraordinary goals and then build the teams that deliver upon them. Even fewer have the capacity to look around and say enough is enough. Yet at 38 years of age Dick was able to separate himself from the achievement of having built Dick Smith Electronics and accept an offer from Woolworths of $25 million to walk away from the business that he built from an opportunity discarded by his employer and funded by $610 in savings.

While all this sounds delightfully organised, Dick is a visceral sort of guy. Here’s how Dick saw it. “Dick Smith Electronics got too big. There were 500 employees. I didn’t know them all. I didn’t like it any more. I was sitting in an office making heaps of money but not enjoying myself. You see I’m an adventurer and I need a challenge. I could see how I could fall into the trap of being greedy”.

Challenge Dick to describe success and he is equally concise. “I gauge success as being able to do what you want to do. So you can have a successful person who may have very little money, like maybe a park ranger”.

So it’s not surprising although still remarkable that with far more money than he’d ever need, that a fulfilled life would be one in which the giving to others would be far more fulfilling that any race to have the biggest, the best or the most. In fact, one of the extraordinary stories that floats around Dick is the reading of his will in 1982 upon his return from his solo round the world helicopter flight. Somewhere between Greenland and Iceland over a very stormy sea he decided that it would be much more fun to give the money away while he was still alive to see the outcomes of his generosity. It’s often claimed that many very wealthy people give money to assuage their guilt, but it’s pretty clear that Dick has a different proposition. Wealth is a privilege and used intelligently to support the causes that inspire him, he can, sometimes in modest ways, sometime in life changing ways, impact on the trajectory of the world for individuals and society.

The list of causes that Dick subscribes to is very long, diverse and often times surprising. His recent intervention to support the freedom of Nigel Brennan and Amanda Lindhout, journalists held captive in Somalia for the past 15 months, is a great example. Dick got involved because he was inspired by the commitment and tenacity by Nigel’s family and with others funded the payment of the ransom. More than that, however, he applied himself to discovering what the most likely path to success was and finding the best people in the world to support the outcome.

Dick is reputed to have given away $20 million over the years and even basic research points to the breadth of his commitment. I remember quite a few years ago that Canberra was lacking a rescue helicopter to support the community. Dick’s support was to donate his Sikorsky S76 helicopter which he had done his second circumnavigation of the globe in to the cause.  Extraordinary, simple and a direct solution to the challenge at hand. A very Dick Smith approach.

So back to Bowylie. The Toyne and Douglas families motored into Bowylie and drove out to park behind the hangars. As we drove out from behind the hedge, there, in front of us, was the remarkable towering black bulk of the HARS Catalina standing proud in a sea of grass. I always get amazed how different contexts affect the experience I have of different aircraft. I’d only ever seen the Cat either at air shows where it was often surrounded by many other (and often larger) aircraft, or sitting at Albion Park in the context of all the other amazing HARS aircraft. To see it sitting alone in a field because it was simply too big to manoeuvre and park on the aprons was awe inspiring. It’s an amazing aircraft, maintained by an amazing and committed team of people dedicated to keeping our aviation history alive.

We arrived early and there were only a few aircraft on the ground and a couple of dozen vehicles around. Yet the place felt decidedly alive. Bowylie is a historic property that Dick and Pip bought in 1995. The Smiths are only the fourth family to own the property since it was granted to George Styles in the 1820’s when it was originally named ‘Talagandra’. The original home as destroyed by fire in 1850 and in the 1860’s was reconstructed including the present hall and its adjacent rooms. Late that decade it was sold again to a Mr. Massey who renamed it ‘Stoneville’.

Since purchasing the property Dick and Pip have done a remarkable job of extending the homestead into an absolutely inspiring place, surrounded by truly remarkable gardens. It’s an amazing use of personal wealth to protect and extend the history of the property and the overall sense of a visit to Bowylie is that of visiting a living museum. The gardens whose history stretches back to the 1860’s are the sort of gardens where you can simply lose yourself for hours, and they have a tradition that reaches all the way back to the early planting of the pines and elms that line the airstrip by William Guilfoyle who was one of the early curators of the Melbourne Botanic Gardens.

And while I could write extensively on the amazing homestead, the incredible gardens and the beautiful artwork that is held within, it’s actually the building and tradition of the airfield that is probably of much more interest to you.

So let’s hop across to the Bowylie Flying Club which is an absolutely amazing museum to the history of Australian flying and Dick’s amazing aviation exploits. The clapboard and corro roofed building looks like so many of the buildings built at so many airports around the country in the halcyon days of aviation when it was bright shiny and new and the possibilities for aviation to shrink our enormous nation were paramount. It sits behind a picket fence (remember those amazing days when airports had picket fences rather than razor wire?) and stands between a fabulous barbecue pavilion, the prerequisite Australian flag blowing stiffly in the breeze, a hangar with a remarkable and beautiful historic plane and the historic refuelling bowser with the 1930’s LAME shop just waiting for a problem to be fixed.

When you walk in you’re met in the foyer with the gold leaf roll of honour of the amazing people who have acted as president for this esteemed establishment. It is a truly amazing list of Australian aviation greats and begins with the founding president Bert Hinkler, runs through the fingers of Smithy, Nancy Bird (before she added the Walton 1934-1936) on to Bigglesworth, Brain and McIver before landing in the lap of Jim Hazelton in 1976 to name but a few.

Before I’d ever met Bowylie in person I was introduced to this amazing flying club in an article in the AOPA magazine by Dick talking about the restoration and history of this amazing flying club that would have been pretty much in the middle of nowhere when it was founding in 1922, years before Canberra was anything meaningful and when Lake George still existed and mattered.

I read the article in astonishment. How could this little backwater have attracted such an amazing list of notables? I was amazed and delighted, yet something didn’t seem right. I tugged at a corner of my mind for weeks. Then it dawned on me. This article was written by Dick Smith. Master of the hoax. And a hoax it was, confirmed to me the next month’s edition of the magazine with responses to so many far more experienced aviators than me who had been racking their brains and wondering how they had missed this bastion of historic Australian aviation. Dick Smith had struck again.

Regardless of any of this, it’s a club house that any flying club would proudly own. Exquisite workmanship defines just about everything about Bowylie and as Australia’s proud culture in investing in its history is about ensuring that the best of the past is honoured, then Dick and Pip’s investment in Bowylie is an investment in history. The fact that the property is a working property that acts as one of their homes and that they open and welcome people to come and share, explore and engage makes it truly into a living museum.

And actually while the Bowylie Flying Club nods it’s head decidedly towards the history of Australian flying and Dick’s aviation pursuits in particular, it’s Dicks railway line that gives away the depth of passion that he has for all things mechanical and historical and his desire to use his wealth to maintain an operating link to that which has built Australia.

 I’ve had a number of people comment to me while reading the ERSA about an ‘Addition Information’ remark that exists in the entry that’s included for Gundaroo. It reads ‘ACFT to give way to steam train on the TWY’. While you might ask what people are doing casually reading the ERSA, it’s a great example of Dick’s irreverent view of the world. And you do have to give way to a truly beautifully restored narrow gauge steam train that plies it’s trade pulling a single carriage that demonstrates the superb local craftsmanship of the local Gundaroo area.

Of course, everyone had a great time exploring ‘Dick’s Toy Shed’. The massive hangar at the end of the apron is filled with just about every form of flying delight you can imagine from Dick’s CJ3, Augusta Power 109e, the Caravan down to the Bellanca and the Airpower weight shift trike in the corner. Dick flies them all and with better than 9,000 hours in his log book you can understand why he had to sell the business just to give him enough time for all this fun.

So who actually came? Well that’s a secret. Dick’s fly-in is a private affair and he is a private man, and I’m not going to go there. Needless to say that with about 40 aircraft floating around the place and probably another 100 vehicles of various types with the range stretching from light jets, through helicopters, a King Air, twins, certified and homebuilt singles and a few aircraft that are probably the only examples of their breed on the Australian register. There were quite a number of notable Australians in attendance and, not unexpectedly, a number of very adventurous types.

And after all that I still haven’t actually managed to get a decent conversation with Dick - not this time or ever! Not for want of trying and not because Dick’s avoided it, but my hope to catch up with him and get his views on the world of aviation were dashed when a certain Cessna Mustang arrived with an international film crew who managed to capture his attention for the balance of the time that we were on the ground and having fun. I will make this promise though… one issue soon I will pin Dick down and spend some time documenting his views on why Australian aviation continues to slide down the path of despair and see if we can find a common cause to change that long term horrible decline in hours flown in private and business aviation.

Dick Smith is an Australian icon. I was privileged to have had the opportunity to attend and explore his living museum and I’m grateful to have watched him from afar as he’s lived a commendable life and made a difference.