6,000 MILES ON AN EL AL BRISTOL BRITANNIA

I have always thought the Britannia was pretty cool looking aircraft. I only had the opportunity of seeing one in my time.

This great article came from an old copy of Flight Magazine on 3 January 1958.

Entitled 6,000 Miles in an El Al Britannia Impressions of a Fifteen-hour 400m.p.h. Record Flight from New York to Tel-Aviv By J. M. RAMSDEN


THE headlines in the Jerusalem Post of December 20 said that our Britannia had smashed 16world records. I am not quite sure what they all were, but of two things I am certain. First, that by flying the 6,100 miles from New York to Tel-Aviv non-stop in a time of 14 hr 57 min, we had flown farther, and faster, than any other commercial air- liner. Second, we had convincingly demonstrated that the Britannia is not just a long-range turboprop according to the brochure. I might add that our flight was more than an "anyone-could-do-it" operation with full tanks and a tailwind: as I hope to show, El Al know how to get the best out of the Britannia.

We had some difficulty at New York with there fuelling. No matter how hard the El Al engineers tried, they couldn't get full tanks. New York's Avtur had an unusually high specific gravity; had the bowser been capable of delivering at a high enough pressure we might have achieved full tank- age. (Compared with London's 50 lb/sq in pressure, at New York we got only about 35.) As it was, having first drained the tanks and then made careful estimates of fuel mass by measuring its s.g. and temperature, we took off 275 Imp gal short of the Britannia's 8,547 Imp gal maximum usable. For this reason it was decided to remove all but one row of the six-abreast tourist seats, saving about 2,000 lb (and converting the aeroplane—as someone remarked during the trip—into a long-range ballroom).

We passengers sat in the 18 first-class seats at the back end. I asked whether we made any difference to the trim, remembering how on a B.O.A.C. Britannia 102 trip last year our hefty captain's retirement aft for dinner had cost us 4 kt. But it was reckoned to make no difference on this aeroplane, notwithstanding the critical nature of our flight, and we were certainly very comfortable in our berths and slumberette seats. There were 25 people on board, made up of two flight crews (totalling ten); three technicians from Bristol and D.H. Propellers; three journalists besides myself (representing the Manchester Guardian, Time and the Israeli Press); Mr. J. E. D.Williams, an Englishman who is in charge of El Al's planning and development; Mr. Yoel Palgi, El Al's deputy managing director; and seven others. Our commander was El Al's chief pilot, Capt. Zwi Tohar, a wartime R.A.F. Bomber Command pilot (Wellingtons) who has been flying the Atlantic for El Al since the airline was formed in 1948.

The idea was to get up high quickly and to cruise as high as possible without running into the Britannia's Vno of 250 kt. Ideally, for maximum range, we should have cruised at the speed for minimum drag, i.e. at maximum L/D, drifting up in a cruise-climb as we burnt off fuel weight. But this idealized method of getting the most out of a turbine aeroplane is no longer permitted for traffic control reasons, so we made the most of the stepped-climb procedure. We took off at 0630 G.M.T. (Zee, as the Americans call it), and climbed fast, leveling out at our first selected cruising level of 25,OOOft, an odd-number quadrantal height since we were flying eastwards. Our take-off weight was161,000 lb, considerably less than the new approved gross of 180,000 lb for the Britannia 310-serics.


Soon after take-off the stewardess switched off the cabin lights, since it was long past our American sleeping time. I arranged to talk to "Jed" Williams and to Mr. Palgi in the morning. It was the phrase "in the morning" which more than anything measured the length of the journey ahead. In the next 15 hours we were to have a night's sleep, breakfast, lunch, and dinner— and we would still have three hours to go before arriving overhead at Lod Airport, Tel-Aviv. People had been in commercial airliners for 15 hr and more, of course, but they had not covered the JUST before Christmas the Israeli airline El Al played an overture tithe inauguration of their transatlantic Britannia services by flying non- stop from die U.S.A. to Israel. The author of this article, a member of the staff of "Flight," was on board. He describes the journey, and gives his impressions of how the first foreign operator of Britannia* is settling down with its new aircraft. distance—6,100 st. miles—we intended to travel in that time.

The Bristol representative winced slightly at the way the Manchester Guardian heaved himself into his berth, explaining with mocking reproof on behalf of his stress office that steps were provided for this operation. Those of us in sleeperettes were probably just as comfortable as the lucky four in berths, with our5 3 in of fully-reclined pitch and our woolen El Al rugs. Those in the normal 42in pitch first-class seats slept soundly, though Think the I.A.T.A. surcharge for a sleeperette will be found to be worth $50. Cost of a berth is $75, and providing one has the privacy of curtains I think this is worth the money too. The soporific hum of the Proteus and the confining effect of the lowered berths made our cabin very cozy.

Up Front on the Britannia
Before finally settling off I strolled up front. The duty crew, in their grey gold-braided uniforms, were intent and pre-occupied. The Jetstream forecast by New York met. could not be found, though we had changed course twice. "Jed" Williams, who had had a hard day at the airport, was comparing his radio- and pressure-altimeters and keeping watch on the outside temperature gauge, trying to get wind of the elusive Jet stream by the rapid tell-tale changes in pressure and temperature. He reckoned that the forecast stream we were seeking had changed direction from northwesterly to north, and a cross-check with a weather-ship tended to confirm this. Unless we found a tailwind soon, it was touch and go whether we would make Tel-Aviv non-stop.

When we were awakened for breakfast at 11.30 G.M.T. by the stewardess (looking remarkably neat and uncreased after her night in a tourist chair) it was daylight, the sun having risen fast to meteor flight into the dawn. We were now on the third step of our cruise, at 29,000ft. Up front, the crew were more optimistic of our chances. We had found a 90 kt tailwind component for about two hours during the night, and were now being steadily puffed along by a wind component of 30 to 40 kt. In an hour or two we should receive London's six-hourly European met. forecast, and the moment of decision—to press on to Tel-Aviv, or to refuel at Rome—would come somewhere over France. For the time being, gallons-gone versus distance-to-go looked promising, and at 13.10 we began to ascend our next 2,000ft step to 31,000ft. The captain nicked us up on his S.E.P.2 autopilot, maintaining the A.S.I, to within 5 kt of the new (lower) target speed which, according to El Al's cruising charts, apparently worked out at 205 kt for the particular weight, height and outside temperature conditions prevailing.


The point at which one starts the next step is, I was told, very critical: a couple of knots too soon or too late, as the A.S.I, creeps up with decreasing weight at constant height, and quite serious effect on economy results. The actual technique of the climb is also very critical: El Al have tried many methods, including just simply allowing the aircraft's momentum to carry it up. But as the nose went up the speed dropped and drag increased, and this was tried only twice in proving flights. Techniques are:, of course, still being refined and streamlined, and a large document known as the Green Book, which contains cruising tables, charts and recommended practices for all routes and conditions, constitutes El Al's operational bible. El Al have worked all this out for themselves in the course of paper operations going back to September 1955, and in proving flights since last September when their first aircraft was delivered. I was allowed to look at the Green Book, but not to make notes from it. My impression of this document was that it appeared to be an exceedingly work-manlike effort to get the most out of the Britannia, its two fundamental precepts being to extract the most value from every pound of fuel, and to make things as simple as possible for the crew. "Seventeen years as a practicing navigator," remarked Jed Williams, "have tended to make me avoid fancy techniques, how- ever good they may be in theory." They had no "prima donnas or special wizards" in El Al.

Full realization of the detail of El Al's performance work For the record flight to Tel-Aviv 11 rows of tourist seats were removed, as shown here, because full pressure-refueled tankage could not be obtained at New York. dawned on me when I noticed in the Green Book detailed Britannia charts for the 200-mile London-Paris sector. At least three different operational techniques were considered, the conclusion being that block time and fuel consumed were much of a muchnnes, the approach techniques being likely to waste more money than this or that kind of cruise.
I asked about the extent of Bristol's support, and whether it was not unusual for an airline—particularly one as small as El Al —to be expected to do so much basic performance work. It was unusual, I gathered, but Bristol had provided them with a Tel-Aviv-based performance engineer, and had very quickly learnt that a theoretical cruising grid, say, was not always sufficient in airline practice. Of the rest of Bristol's technical support, I was later told by Mr. Palgi that it has been "of the highest possible order."


I asked why El Al's scheduled London-New York times were faster than B.O.A.C.'s (10 hr 50 min westbound, compared with 12 hr, and 8 hr 30 min eastbound, compared with 9 hr 50 min).I never really got a conclusive answer to "that loaded question," as a Bristol representative described it, so I expect that the truth lies somewhere between a little optimism on one side and a little cautiousness on the other. I know that both airlines have been out to break the Atlantic "four-minute-mile"—New York- London in eight hours—and El Al actually got within three minutes of it on a proving flight on December 7. But a good deal of nonsense has been spoken and written about the trans-Atlantic Britannia rivalry between El Al and B.O.A.C. It has been said that the Israeli airline was all-out to beat the British Corporation in the introduction of transatlantic Britannia ser- vices. This is not so, though it may have appeared to be so. A storm in a teacup was caused by a $3,400 full-page El Al advertisement in the Herald Tribune of December 6. (The president of Aeronaves de Mexico, whose Britannia 302s were at that time due into New York on December 16, was so impressed that he asked to reproduce it at Acronaves' expense in Mexico City newspapers.) The advertisement showed a photograph of the sea, with the heading: "Starting December 23 the Atlantic Will Be 20 Per Cent Smaller," and the caption: "Watch for the inauguration of the first jet-prop service across. the Atlantic, introducing the Bristol Britannia."

A BOAC Britannia


At this time B.O.A.C. had stated that their Britannia services El Al carry one stewardess and three stewards on Britannia services. Until now El Al have not offered first-class service, but they are learning very quickly about the scale of the competition in this kind of business, and are offering a high standard of service would start "within the first three months of 1958," though the Corporation were unofficially aiming for December 19. Flight, November 29.) B.OAC then officially announced that their inaugural service would be on December 19. Brig-Gen. E. Ben-Arzi, managing director of El Al, is reported to have said when asked that no one in Israel felt anything but pleasure that B.O.A.C. should be first on to the Atlantic with Britannia’s.

The vigor and drive of El Al's advertising and public relations in New York is impressive. No opportunity is lost to get the Britannia "jet-prop" (never once did I hear mention of the word turboprop) into the newspapers. I even heard America's "Mr. Television," Milton Berle, getting "the folks to give it a big hand." El Al's view is that Americans don't buy things, they're sold them—and 60 per cent of El Al's traffic originates in the U.S.A. I incidentally learnt quite a lot about American-style public relations during a morning in El Al's New York office. The airline's reaction to a scurrilously inaccurate Britannia story in an influential popular magazine was not protest and a demand for correction: instead they took the view that the fault was partly their own, and they set about getting a new and different story into the magazine. When the U.S. press rang El Al they always seemed to be given full information, which isn't easy when head office is 6,000 miles away.

By 1600 hr the sun was fast receding behind us, and we were flying into the dusk. We were over Marseilles, and crossed- fingers were the reply received by someone who asked whether we were going to make it. One moment I looked down at Marseilles in daylight; when I looked out a moment later it was dark. The Proteus engines, humming imperturbably after ten hours, had merged into the blackness, their bulk intermittently illumined by our flashing roof-top beacon. The altimeter showed 33,500ft, the odd 500ft indicating that we were now flying European airways. We started our climb to 35,500ft—a comparatively slow ascent to our final cruising level. This was jet height, unlikely to be reached by payload-laden Britannia’s in service. But temperature, as much as weight, determines cruising level: it was — 65 deg C outside, and we stayed at 35,500ft for the next four hours until it was time to descend. It might conceivably have been worth climbing to 37,500ft, but by 20.15 G.M.T., when our speed and weight were ready for the next2,000ft step, it was time to chop the throttles for the descent to Tel-Aviv.

Just before darkness I talked with Mr. Yoel Palgi, El Al's deputy managing director. Like his managing director, Brig-Gen. Ben-Arzi, Mr. Palgi wears a permanent, genial smile. He became a legendary figure during the war as a Resistance leader in the Balkans; his understanding of the air transport business is apparently also something of a legend.

I began by asking him why, with El Al's Lockheed affiliations, and his country's associations with wealthy Jewish interests in America, they had chosen the Britannia. Because it was, in their opinion, the best technical product available, he replied. Did he think the Britannia would hold its own against the big jets? Ten hours out from New York, with another five to go before reaching Tel- Aviv. "For a while," he said, "perhaps until 1963." Opinions differed within El Al, but his view was that in order to maintain the market-penetration which he hoped would be achieved by the Britannia, they might have to think about jets in about 1963. El Al, he explained, had no ambitions to be anything more than a minor Atlantic carrier, but they hoped to double their share of the traffic—from its present 1.3 per cent (7,900 passengers in1956) to 2.7 per cent—with their Britannia’s.

I knew that, alone among Atlantic competitors, El Al have always concentrated on tourists, at least since 1952, ignoring altogether the first-class business. I asked Mr. Palgi why this was so, hoping he would go on to comment on El Al's future policy as to I.A.T.A.'s thrift-class fares, due to come into force on April 1. The U.S.-Israel traffic potential, he explained, has not been great enough to justify different classes of service, nor had El Al the right aircraft (four early-model Constellation 049s), the frequencies or the advertising budgets to offer different classes of service. Though El Al had fifth-freedom rights at London, Paris, Rome and Athens, about 80 per cent of their traffic was carried between New York and Tel-Aviv. "People tend to think of us as a way of getting to and from Israel and America: they don’t normally think of us as a transatlantic carrier with European terminals." Hence the neglect hitherto of first-class business, though with Britannia’s they now had an opportunity to promote it. He pointed out that transatlantic traffic between Europe and America had doubled in five years: traffic between Israel and America had increased by only a half in the same time. El Al now had a chance to carry the public they had been losing, though the first-class passenger was "the most unfaithful kind of public imaginable." You had to catch him, "and you can't catch him without competitive service, and the right frequencies. Now we have a chance." The Britannia would concentrate on the Atlantic route, and the 049s would do the European sectors for awhile. Their resale value would probably be small, he admitted.


What had El Al's policy been within I.A.T.A. towards thrift-class fares? He smiled broadly at this question, and I imagined that El Al had made a determined stand on their policy. "In principle, we are flat out for thrift-class fares," he said, but El Al had to consider them in their own specific interests. Thrift fares as proposed in I.A.T.A. were between the European gateways and America; and El Al did not have the capacity to offer tourist-class Early-morning scene at the arrivals area of New York's new international terminal at Idlewild. We hope to describe this remarkable new terminal in an early issue. El AT* Britannia’s will be in and out of New York at a once-weekly frequency tor the time being. fares between Tel-Aviv and Europe, nor were they prepared to meet the time-consuming expense of a change to thrift seating and amenities at their European terminals. In other words, El Al wanted to offer thrift fares right through to Tel-Aviv. But I.A.T.A. resisted this as discriminating against the other Middle East carriers. El Al sought to offer tourist accommodation at thrift fares, their justification for this argument being that, alone among Atlantic operators, their tourist layout had six-abreast seats. They argued in terms of passenger volume, rather thanT.34 passenger pitch, which they maintained does not fully define passenger comfort, since this depends on the design of the seat. In the end El Al won their point. They would offer tourist accommodation for thrift fares—and Britannia travel for good measure. My guess is that they will have a decisive competitive advantage. As generally agreed, free sandwiches and non-alcoholic drinks will be served to thrift-class travelers. Mr. Palgi explained El Al's choice of American Hardman six-abreast tourist seats rather than British types. It was their conclusion that Hardman offered the most comfortable triplet it cost "quite a lot of dollars," and it was heavier. He reckoned that the total weight penalty of installing American chairs in the Britannia’s amounted to 600 lb, but that this was worth it "for the remarkable difference in tourist-class comfort.” I must say I had flown tourist by El Al Britannia to New York without complaint—an 11 1/2 hour trip of which seven were spent sleeping without a stir. There are 12 tourist rows in all, set at 36in pitch on standard-track rails. Some chairs arc upholstered in turquoise, others in grey with turquoise arms. The deep-pile aisle carpet is mushroom, the cabin walls are grey, and the linen window-curtains are patterned in greens and yellows. The general effect is most pleasant, though, with great respect for El Al's taste, it was my personal opinion that the brown "wood-veneer" bulkheads didn't quite strike the right note. They present a real opportunity for what the Americans are calling jet-age decor, and providing an effect can be achieved which does not make the cabin too "busy," and which is serviceable, con- temporary styling of the bulkheads would probably make all the difference to El Al's Britannia’s. El Al have not yet finalized their first-class configuration, pending discussions with the A.R.B. about the quick-release mechanism of the two emergency exit doors at the extreme aft end. This is one of those matters which can, if the authorities insist that chairs must not be in front of exit doors (as they are in front of window exits), mean loss of revenue—and four first-class passengers without sleeping berths or sleeperette-type chairs. I was particularly interested to learn how El Al had organized themselves for the introduction of their new aeroplane. This is a problem which many airlines are now having to tackle. El Al had to decide whether to create a new Britannia group, or to adapt their existing departments to handle Britannia development. They finally compromised, forming in September 1956 a "planning and development group" (under J. E. D. Williams) to handle operations and performance, adapting existing departments to handle comparatively straightforward matters such as training and spares. Though shortage of manpower is El Al's big problem (payroll is 1,300) this has its own advantages—the most important being "speed of communication." Major problems can be settled quickly without resort to ponderous administrative machinery: in the event, El Al's compromise has worked. Gradually, the planning and development group will be allowed to drift back into the existing administrative system. I asked Capt. Tohar about training. I gathered that every pilot has about 160 Britannia hours before he carries passengers— 15 hr conversion-flying and 30 hr flight familiarization at Tel-Aviv, followed by 75 hr of route-proving and a final 30 hr :of check-flying. Expense of the first two items would have been cut had El Al had the Redefine Britannia simulator, but this is not due for delivery until June. Three captains were trained at Bristol, including Capt. Tom Jones, the British flight superintendent. Of El Al's 16 captains, all are Israeli except for three Americans and Capt. Tom Jones. (The airline has no particular policy about the nationality of its staff.) About 120 Israeli engineers have taken aircraft or engine courses (or both) at the Bristol school, or at the new El Al school—"of which we are very proud"—at Tel-Aviv. The number of Bristol-trained instructor sat the airline's school has varied between five and ten. I paid a last visit to the flight deck just before the descent. Some of the crew had, I believe, been on continuous duty for 36 hours, but their jubilation was unconcealed. In progress, in fact, was a light-hearted dispute in Hebrew about the ownership of a banana. Incidentally, there had been no snags. We had made it, with 4,500 lb fuel reserves intact—sufficient for another hour and ten minutes cruising. We had flown a distance of 6,100 miles in 14 hr 57 min; at an average speed of408 m.p.h. (of which about 50 m.p.h. was tailwind). At Lod Airport, as we taxied up to the wailing crowds, the floodlights and the cameras, I heard someone.
remark that El Al had done well for the Britannia

FLYING A B.O.A.C. STRATOCRUSIER

Following are excerpts from a story written in the December 1, 1949 issue of Flight Magazine. The article was entitled “Collecting A Stratocruiser”, written by the Editor of Flight Magazine. The full article deals with how B.O.A.C. took delivery of one of their Boeing 377’s. The Acceptance negotiations, and the acceptance flight home to London. I only included the flight home in this blog. The Boeing 377 flown in this article was the
“Caledonia” G-AKGH her first flight was on September 1, 1949, She was Delivered on November 15, 1949.
She was sold to Transocean , August 1958 and registered as N137A, then re registered as N402Q. On September 1, 1960 she was sold to Airline Equipment Company. And in 1963 she was sold to Aero Spacelines. In 1969 she was destroyed in a ground accident at Mojave, Airport. Calif.

A Transocen Stratocruiser
Captain Andrew, who was to fly her home, was on the same Constellation flight as myself on the way to America and Canada—we were thus acquainted in advance. During the extra day one of the jobs was to study the detailed delivery instructions from which details are extracted.
(a) Delivery captains are required to ensure that they themselves and their crew are fully conversant with the instruction and to confirm to the Flight Captain before leaving Seattle that they have read this instruction and have conducted a crew briefing meeting upon it.
(b) Once the aircraft has taken off from Seattle it comes under the normal control of the stations through which it passes and of the overall control of Sub-Line Control at Montreal and Line Control, Filton.
(c) The normal delivery route is Seattle-New York (Idlwild), Gander, London and Filton. Where applicable. Line Standing Orders are regarded as governing the general operation. Aerodrome Limits are a. specific exception. The route followed between Seattle (Boeing Field) and New York (Idlewild) is that used by N.W.A. via Spokane, Minneapolis and Chicago, i.e., Green 2 to Love Rock, Red 14 to Aurora and Green 3- to New York or, avoiding Chicago, via Green 2 to Milwaukee, Red 57 to Toledo and Green 3 to New York. Although Gander is included in the New York-London section, the direct flight may be made provided weather permits and fuel requirements are adhered to. There then follows a proposed time schedule and details, of availability of fuels, carriage of passengers, communications procedures, diversion, navigation and catering orders.
(d) Take-off weight charts are provided for both wet and dry power, and in considering runway lengths account has to be taken not only of wind velocity but of runway

Limits for flight planning for all airports on delivery flights are 8ooft and two miles. For actual landings, at the discretion of the captain, C.A.A. limits for Constellations plus 200ft and one-half-mile may be used. Captains with under 100 hours' experience on Stratocruisers fly to standard limits plus 200ft and half-a-mile. We arranged to forgather at the B.O.A.C. office on the airfield edge at about eight o'clock in the evening, local time, after taking a last dinner in the city. In addition to the crew and supernumeraries there were a few B.O.A.C. representatives—including Mr. Ed. Townsend, Mr. Condon and Captain Burgess—and half a dozen or more Boeing passengers.
We took our luggage down at about nine o'clock and stowed it, some in the after hold and some with the crew bags forward. There was great activity on the airfield, which was brightly illuminated, and work was going on several of the other huge aircraft—B-50’s and Stratocruisers—which stretched away in long lines as far as the eye could see. On our own " ship " ground and air crews were rushing purposefully about, making last-minute checks, and looking to the distribution of luggage and crates. It was a cold, fairly clear, night out-side but in the cabins it was quieter and warmer. One almost despaired of the captain being able to get all the vehicles and tackle and helpers and visitors clear of the aircraft before dawn, but by 10.30 all seemed about ready. It was to me a most moving scene, the atmosphere being very reminiscent of the quayside when a great liner is preparing to leave. Looking larger at night, the silver Strato- cruiser, with little decoration beyond its Speedbirds and UnionJacks, towered above us as we stood by the rear entrance door waiting until the last moment to climb in. With external checks complete, the order came to close the three doors and we were cut off from those outside except for the telephone, through which the flight engineer was preparing to give starting instructions. I moved forward to the cockpit and listened to the crew methodically go through their checks. Before starting, First Officer Sarson read the 45 items on the station check list, then the cockpit check list (26 items), to which the other members of the crew (and sometimes himself) responded as appropriate. For example: —
(13) Wing flaps checked? First Officer: tOut 10 deg on emergency, then off. In on normal, then off."

The Flight Deck
(14)Propeller de-icer? Captain: Off."
(15) Pitot heaters? Captain: tChecked and Off."
(16) Torque line heaters? Captain: On."
(17) Navigation lights checked as required?
(18) No smoking" and seat belts" [indicator switches]checked? First Officer: On."
(19) Radios? Radio Officer: Checked."
(20) Engineer's pre-flight check? Engineer Officer: Completed."
(21) Amount of fuel, oil and A.D.I.? Engineer Officer:" . . . lb fuel, oil, turbo and A.D.I, tanks checked, caps secure."
(22) Pitot covers and gear locks? Engineer Officer: Off and stowed."
(23) Cabin secure? Steward: Cabin secure, cargo doors closed, ship's papers aboard." The complete check took about eleven minutes this first time, but with practice it will be much quicker. Next came starting-up, in the order 3 and 4 then 2 and 1.
Engines are numbered one to four across from port to starboard. It went something like this: Engineer Officer: All clear to start No. 3, Ground? " Ground had previously pulled each engine through eight blades to check for hydraulicking (oil collected above the pistons). The engineer officer prepared all controls with fuel selectors at tank-to-engine position, one booster pump on, mixture control at fuel cut-off, throttles at 800 to 1,000 r.p.m., turbo override switches at take-off, starting selector on 3, and so on. The First Officer, looking back at number 3 engine, called out " One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight blades, Eric." Whereupon Eric put the ignition switches on and, after a turn or two more: Engine firing—keep it going." Forward went the mixture control and a little extra throttle seemed to help at first. This procedure was repeated until all four Wasp Majors were running smoothly and quietly behind us. Nine after-starting checks were called out and five more for before taxing, but at this point a considerable drop in the level of the hydraulic-fluid tank (upon which I was sitting) had been noted and reported to the captain; after a moment's consultation it was decided to close down and remedy the matter. The hydraulic tank, situated behind the engineer officer's panel in the cockpit, had been changed during the day and the system drained. The new tank had been refilled but the system had remained empty; consequently, on starting-up the engines, the tank was almost emptied to fill the system. A gang quickly arrived with mobile hydraulic-fluid pump, and some three gallons of cold fluid were slowly persuaded to pass through the filter in the tank filter neck. There was a good deal of homely Anglo- American natter as instructions were passed back down the line: " A bit faster . . .take it easy . . . STOP! . . . now a bit more ... speed 'er up a bit . . . more . . . STOP! " And so we got our fluid. The next start-up went smoothly and quickly, and by mid-night we bad taxied out to the run-up position. There were all the usual checks, together with turbos, airscrew reverse-pitch and others as well. Finally, the 23-item take-off check was called out, starting with all windows secure and flaps25 deg," and ending—from the engineer officer—with standing by for take-off." [In the next part of this article the flight home will be - described.] First refueling of Caledonia at Idlewild Airport, New York, and (right) the engineer officers supervise the operations.
FEW of us, pilots or non-pilots, can remain immune from the thrill, momentarily breath-taking, that accompanies the roar and thrust of engines as an airliner accelerates down the runway and one tenses to the crescendo of noise and throbbing as the throttles approach their stops. It is forgotten immediately as one surrenders to the movement, and the senses change their focus to try to detect the instant of take-off. Not until the earth is falling away does the noise again obtrude, this time to contrast the frenzy of take-off with the almost physical relief which one shares with the engines now purring on the climb. So it was with our Stratocruiser as it raced between the lines of white lights marking the runway at Seattle and, lifting imperceptibly off its wheels :

Those big Pratt 4360's
Seattle to New York : Impressions in the Air : A Change 0/ Airscrews —first the main wheels, then the nosewheel—started to climb before circling the city and setting course for the east. Caledonia's first take-off in the hands of a B.O.A.C. crew—for there is no acceptance test—was smooth and occa- sioned the minimum of action from the pilot. For a start the captain took the nose wheel control and throttles and the first officer the wheel, while the engineer officer followed up on his throttles. An order from the captain and the engineer completed the throttle movement, while the captain, as the rudder became effective, took over the main controls. The maximum take-off power—3,500 b.h.p. per engine with A.D.I.—was used. The corresponding boost and r.p.m. are 58m and 2,700 r.p.m. Only the built-in supercharger is employed for take-off, the turbo- blower being for use at altitude. The speed mounted, 75-80 kt, 90-100 kt, and the first officer called V.1," the speed above which the take-off is continued even if an engine fails or below which engines are shut down, pitch reversed and brakes applied. The V.1 speed varies with load, and on our take-off from Seattle with 132,000 lb a.u.w., it was 98 kt with rudder boost in use ; at full load it is 109.5 kt. Next, " V.2 " was called—the minimum speed for holding direction following an engine-cut. This is equivalent to the three-engine safety speed for the load concerned.
Take-off power is maintained on the Stratocruiser until it is established in the climb, and the gear is on the way up. After this, rated power (2,800 h.p., 2,550 r.p.m.) is used at 140 kt until 200ft is reached and, thereafter, climbing power at 165 kt climbing speed. Normal climb power is held with the aid of the turbo-blower at 50m manifold pressure. The last 10,000 lb of weight up to the 142,500 lb maximum makes a pronounced difference to the feel and length of take-off ; e.g. and loading must also be watched very closely at full load. The aircraft is inclined to nose- heaviness. The magnificent cockpit had impressed me from the start; and now, having seen the crew installed and working in complete comfort, and having experienced a night take-off sitting beside the first officer and with a supemumary captain seated beside the captain, I realized that in this feature at least the Stratocruiser exhibits superior qualities which no crew will wish to relinquish again. The only aircraft I can remember with anything like the space, comfort and view is that Rolls-Royce of old bombers, the Short Stirling. As Caledonia circled Seattle to the right, the huge greenhouse nose offered an unsurpassed view up, down, ahead, sideways and even to the rear. It was quiet enough to talk freely and easily, the ride was smooth, and the temperature was comfortable. The initial climb following a long take-off seemed a little sluggish, but, as height was gained, so the aircraft got into its stride and the rate of climb seemed to improve. An average rate of about 700 ft/min was maintained. Caledonia at Hartford, the home of the United Aircraft Corporation.
Later, as we continued to climb, I walked back into the cabins and made a careful check-up on noise and vibration levels. The two main cabins I found very pleasant, the sound of engines and airscrews becoming more and more remote towards the tail. In the small front cabin and in the toilet compartments (which coincide with airscrews and engines) the noise and vibration are considerable. This, one feels, should be the subject of further examination with a view to improvement. The cocktail bar, however, is per- haps the most comfortable spot of all, and here one can sit and chat as peacefully as in a hotel lounge. It is said that the Stratocruisers wag their tails, and this is true—true, in fact, of almost all large and long aircraft, particularly those with a single fin and rudder; but this effect, and the counter-shudder felt by the crew in the nose, are experienced only in rough air. At the intended cruising height of 25,000 ft there should be little or nothing in the way of turbulence. .. . . No Boredom After this preliminary examination in flight I moved forward again towards the cockpit, having sensed that we had leveled off, and it struck me as significant that only about two of the dozen or more passengers—by no means all seasoned air travellers—had remained in their seats after take-off. The others were wandering around, chat- ting, examining the passengers' instrument panel, or taking a drink below. This was something new ; in my experience of aircraft with which the Stratocruisers will compete, the odd passenger who does anything on a long trip but sit and read, sleep, eat or looked bored, is an exception. These people were not bored and did not become so during the whole of the 9 hr 5 min flight. Admittedly, several turned in on the roomy and comfortable bunks for an hour or two of sleep. I later had a refreshing three hours on an upper port-side bunk myself. Arriving in the cockpit, I noticed that we were flying at19,000 ft at maximum w.m. cruising condition. This I knew to represent 1,750 b.h.p. per engine. Moreover, we were riding in and out of cloud and picking up some ice. It seemed that although the Stratocruiser would climbwillingly to 28,000 or 30,000ft, it would not hold more than about 19,000ft on the permitted cruising power until the weight had gone down a little. At this time we had covered about 240 miles in a little over an hour. With the wing-inspection lights on and thermal de-icers working we watched the ice disperse from the hot parts and heard small lumps fly of the airscrews. More built up, however, on spinners, parts of the nacelles and around the aileron hinges. Soon some slight tail-buffeting could be felt on the controls, and the speed dropped by about 20 kt; so, the crew having little experience of icing with this new aircraft, it was thought prudent to lose height over Spokane and call up for clearance on track at a new height.The ice had mostly gone when the new clearance came through as we circled the area of the city at about 11,000ft. While iced-up we noted a loud, continuous hooting noise above the cockpit, and came to the conclusion it was caused by ice forming on the short radio-aerial masts. It may be desirable to keep these coated with some sort of anti-icing preparation, for the noise was irritating and distracting. It was a great privilege to have been given the freedom of the ship for the long flight home, and one which enabled me to study the conditions of flying from both crew and passenger viewpoints. For the next few hours I settled back and enjoyed being a passenger. Aperitifs and a mealwere served, and later a party of passengers took an early- morning nightcap in the bar. Afterwards I turned in and slept well except for an interruption when part of the heating system stopped working on my side of the cabin. This was nothing very serious, but it is to be hoped that the Stratocruiser is not going to be still another airliner in which an apparently good air-conditioning system proves temperamental. Incidentally, now that these aircraft have started their first operational winter, the heating for the pilots may need further study. The huge expanse of glassmakes the nose portion very cold at 25,000ft, and on one occasion I personally found my legs and feet becoming uncomfortably cool after sitting in the first officer's pew for about half an hour, with the autopilot in control. The captain agreed. On the transcontinental trip (the route of which was included in the map accompanying last week's instalment of this article) we got our first glimpse of scenery between Chicago and Toledo. Before this, only pin-points or patterns of lights during the night and cloud at dawn had been visible below. Captain Andrew made a long, shallow descent towards Captain Alan Andrew is greeted on arrival at London by Captain A. S. Wilcockson, who was Captain of the first Caledonia, a Short C-class flying boat.


Idlewild on the Long Island coast, and in the lower '' thousand teens'' of feet the sun began to warm up the cockpit appreciably. Frozen condensation began to thaw, and, as happens on all large aircraft, '' rain'' came down over crew and controls and trickled over the floor. An addition to the crew equipment, one felt, might well be a rack of small umbrellas for use on descents from high altitudes. . . . Weather was fine and clear as we joined the Idlewild circuit and the New York skyscrapers stood out well in the city haze to the north-west. Radio instructions for landing were brief and to the point, although it took a few moments to sort out the correct strip from the many crisscrossing runways on this huge new airfield. Approach" checks were called out (12 items). They include: brake pressures, seat-belts and no smoking," fuel valves and pumps, cabin (de)pressure, r.p.m., A.D.I, (water/methanol injection for quick overshoot get-away), and flaps 25 deg (speed not to exceed 188 kt). Rounding the circuit, the before-landing" checks followed: 2,300 r.p.m., landing gear checked (down at any speed under 200 kt), flaps as required (30 deg at under 171 kt; 45 deg—the maxi- mum—at under 159 kt), autopilot out, rudder boost on; and others to a total of eleven. Clear for final approach and landing" was signalled from control and the captain, concentrating on flying controls, called for the power he required to maintain a steady approach: "25 inches," "20 inches," and so on. The final extension of the vast area-increase flaps made an appreciable difference, and was called for shortly after the final turn-in had been completed. At about the same time speed was reduced from 140 to 130 kt, and this was held until the check before round-out. A good pull with a little engine on is needed to land in a tail-down attitude with average landing weight and a speed of about 115 kt. The maximum landing weight permitted is 121,700 1b. The Stratocruiser does not land tail-down at all readily, and, in fact, is quite prepared to land nosewheel first. On this occasion Captain Andrew greased her on, and with a burst of power from the inboard Wasp Majors in reverse pitch, we pulled up with half the runway to spare. There followed arrival formalities, admiring examination of the flagship by B.O.A.C. and other staff at Idlewild, preparation of papers for the flight to London next day, clearance for Hartford and, in the odd minutes between, lunch. The flight to Hartford was interposed to permit a change of airscrews—a case of the mountain going to Mahomet. For anyone who is not familiar with the Hamilton Standard air- screws fitted to B.O.A.C. Stratocruisers, a word of description may not be out of place. They are of the four-blade, square- tipped windmill type of 16ft 8in diameter, and they provide for reverse-pitch braking as well as constant-speed operation and manual and automatic feathering. Electric de-icing equipment is provided, and the engine reduction gearing is of °-375:i ratio. Blade angle settings are: fine, 18 deg; feather,86 deg; braking —18 deg. Each blade is built rather like the wing of a light aircraft—though of different materials—with spar and skin envelope. The spar, of steel, tapers off to the tip and the thin steel skin is wrapped round and welded at the open edge and tip. Internally supported by a rubber filling, the skin is attached to the spar by a special brazing process. The reason ipr changing airscrews on B.O.A.C. Stratocruisers, but not as yet on those operated by other companies, is chiefly one of convenience. One or two instances of fatigue cracks in the skin of blades have been discovered, and they result from panting at points near the spar where the rubber filling process has left small cavities. Such cavities can be detected in . advance, filled by injection of cement, and cracking prevented. Test runs with cracked-skin blades have indicated that there is no immediate risk of failure, so other operators based in the United States will attend to their airscrews on the next convenient routine inspections. Balance may be upset, but not by more than 100 in-lb, and as the airscrews are four-bladers, the blades can, it seems, be rematched as opposites, though probably not in the original sequence. Improved sealing against moisture at the roots was also provided when B.O.A.C. airscrews were changed. The short flight north to Hartford, Connecticut, took 1hr 6min (20.30-21.36hrZ). There was no reason to go high, so we had a very interesting view of the country below, though towards the end of the trip light began to fail. Having selected the correct airfield of Hartford's two (which have overlapping circuits but which are separated by the Connecticut River), Captain Andrew took the Stratocruiser in to land on a runway which looked distinctly small after those at Idlewild. In fact, there was plenty of room, and again using only the two inboard engines for braking, we pulled up with plenty to spare and with wheel brakes in reserve. The B.O.A.C. crew and passengers spent a very pleasant •evening as guests of the United Aircraft Corporation—Hamilton Standard and Pratt and Whitney Aircraft Divisions in particular. In the morning we all toured the workshops and - discussed those aspects of the work in the huge East Hartford plant which interested us most. At lunch time, the Corporation kindly arranged for me to fly to La Guardia in its Sikorsky51 in order to have time to examine the Dehmel Trainer before the Stratocruiser *,called in again at Idlewild and then took off at once for London. A foretaste of what may one day be commonplace as provided by the swift, comfortable, door-to-door service of

the helicopter. It also provided me with a magnificent air tour of the north shores of Long Island Sound. And so the time to take leave of the North American conti-nent came round. We had a little farewell party in the restaurant and looked longingly at the stacks of chocolate bars, the food counters, and the slot-machine nylons as we walked through the temporary buildings to the aircraft which had arrived back an hour or two earlier from Hartford. efuelling was complete, and everything had been stowed away ready for the flight. We were assured of quite good weather and a strong tail-wind for most of the Atlantic crossing. The intention was to fly in one hop to Shannon (which, on a great- circle route, takes one near to Gander) and possibly, if winds were sufficiently favourable, to overfly Shannon and go non- stop to London. The take-off from the long, well-illuminated runway was exactly as before—a precision procedure, as it should be—and quickly we climbed up through layers and patches of cloud. Until we neared Gander, flying on the range, the cruising height was again 19,000ft, but as soon as possible we climbed up by stages to 25,500ft, which offered the best compromise in cruising conditions, tail-wind advantage, and keeping clear of the upper cloud-layer. Conditions at this time, as I noted them from the firstofficer's seat, were: height, 25,500ft; 2,200 r.p.m.; 38-39U1 boost; indicated air-speed, 190-195 kt; outside air temperature, -31 deg C (corrected for -7.6 deg compressibility error); torquemeter, 190 lb. The engineer gave me the air-craft weight as 117,500 lb. Making a few calculations, the corrected air speed turned out to be 282 kt, and the navigator confirmed that with the 45 kt tail-wind the ground speed was 327 kt. From torquemeter pressure, a constant and the r.p.m. (190x0.0043x2,200), the output per engine worked out at a fraction under 1,800 b.h.p.—a little over the 1,750 at present recommended but under the makers' quoted figure of r,9oo b.h.p. : Operational Economy If full advantage is to be taken of the Stratocruiser's per-formance it is important that the full cruising power of 1,900 b.h.p. be available for use as soon as possible. This will permit a higher cruising altitude from the start of the journey with full load. It remains to be seen whether Stratocruisers can operate as economically as their older competitors on the North Atlantic route. Certainly they will have the great advantage of being able quite frequently to cut out intermediate stops on the west-east flights and of being able to fly east-west atfull load without a delay for refuelling in Iceland. Passengers bound from London to New York do not take very kindly to stops at Prestwick and Gander, let alone an additional one in Keflavik in the small hours of the morning. By 7.30 hr Z we were 19 minutes ahead of schedule, and if the favourable wind continued right across, a single hop" with a chance of a record time was quite possible. Once we were well established on the North Atlantic leg of the flight I returned to the cabin for dinner, first watching the steward and stewardess in action in their new galley. It seemed to me that they had insufficient room to lay out meals or stack used trays and dishes, even for the limited number of meals served on this occasion. Certainly practice should improve matters, but it may be necessary to ask all passengers not to pass the galley when meals are being served, and also to provide some folding shelves in the recess leading to the main door immediately opposite the galley, for use during mealtimes. Seeing coats and hats folded on unused seats also reminded me that 110 coat-hanging space is provided in the B.O.A.C .layout. The mid toilet-compartment might well be replaced by hanging space if full aircraft are expected, for I feel sure few passengers will care to use it in its present exposed position and with its present dimensions. This is not to say that an additional toilet is not required at the rear, particularly if the layout is to be kept flexible with two-class travel in mind. Could not, perhaps, one of the places on the rear triple-seat be sacrificed in favour of a rear toilet behind the steward's desk? The lack of space for hanging coats is also apparent in the crew compartment, and here again the possibility of modifying a toilet compartment—something less elaborate would satisfy most crews—so that better clothes-hanging facilities could be made available, might well be an improvement. As we flew on through the night sky, clear now of all upper cloud and bright with moon and starlight, I realized how much I was enjoying the flight on the Stratocruiser. This employment had been increased by the free, friendly spirit which had existed all along among crew and passengers. There is, of course, a corresponding camaraderie in r, ship—a feeling of all being in the thing together—and the same regret on having to disembark at the journey's end. A visit to the cocktail bar seemed to have its points, so down the stairs I went. The mirrors at the forward end help to give an impression of spaciousness, unavoidably offset to some extent by the cramped (though probably adequate) little bar and food lift each side of the door to the aft freight compartment. One must look behind the mirrors, which can be folded down, for undercarriage emergency retraction. Provision is made for two flap motors to be removed bodily, if need be, and attached to the undercarriage winding shafts. The luggage compartments are all pressurized and accessible in flight; in fact, the only three portions of the fuselage not pressurized are the nosewheel box, central wing area and tail cone. Elaborate precautions against fire 1 have been provided, immediate warning being given by carbon monoxide and smoke detectors. Masks and oxygen a-e provided for emergencies, to enable the crew to locate and extinguish afire among freight and baggage. So sensitive are the CO. detectors that they have to be desensitized when the aircraft is on the tarmac or awaiting a turn to take off, because the carbon monoxide from the exhaust of other machines in front will give a false warning in the aircraft. With these and other thoughts in mind I decided once more to sample the comfort of the roomy bunks, and remembered nothing more until bright sunshine flooded through the small upper porthole and Ireland was less than an hour away. It seemed that the helping wind had died out midway across, and so we were to make a routine landing at Shannon. In fact, we flew in over the damp, deep-green Irish fields—each unbelievably small after the vast expanses of Canadian ranches and American farms—and touched down at 11.56,after 9 hours 18 minutes in the air. Of the hour and three-quarter flight on to London after breakfast there is little to say. The ride was smooth and comfortable, and our American friends were most interested to see the Brabazon assembly hall—though no Brabazon as we flew over Bristol. A wet and hazy Heathrow soon came into view, and with the minimum of delay we were down and cutting engines on the tarmac. Crew and passengers were subjected to a brief and orderly immigration, health and customs examination ;then, as the passengers embarked for London on the coach, the B.O.A.C. crew prepared to fly their flagship back to base at Filton.

Graduation From USAF Aircraft Electrican School Chanute AFB, January 29, 1969

My graduation from Aircraft Electrician School Chanute AFB January 29, 1969
I am the Airman kneeling on the right. In front of a TF-102
Tag Photo to enlarge

January 28th, 2009 will mark the 40th anniversary of my graduation from United States Air Force Aircraft Electrician Technical School at the great old Air Force Base at Chanute, Rantoul, Illinois.
On this day all 9 Airmen in the photo graduated from the course. We got to choose our favorite instructors to pose with us on the left is T/Sgt English and the right S/Sgt Addis. We now were full fledged 3 level Aircraft electricians.
To graduate we had to take a practical test in troubleshooting on an actual aircraft. That aircraft was an old B-66 in one of the hangars. To this day I remember my test.. The work order stated that the “Nose Gear Taxi light was inop” So armed with my tech Order Wiring Diagram for the B-66 I began my troubleshooting, completely beside myself and worrying the whole time I would be the only airman to flunk the test. But fortune smiled upon me that day and I found after many minutes of reading and tracing the wiring diagrams, taking voltage readings, going from cockpit to nose gear a few items, I finally found the problem… A POPPED CIRCUIT BREAKER BEARING THE NOMENCLATURE… TAXI LIGHT. I was so proud of myself! I now was a full fledged Aircraft Electrician.. Well not really.. A few months of training on the C-124 and a test for the Journeyman 5 level then I was an Aircraft Electrician, a job I truly liked.
I remember shortly after this picture was taken we went back to the barracks and found our assignments on our bunks, almost everybody that graduated with me got the base they requested but I didn’t! I had put in for McGuire AFB, N.J. or Dover , AFB Del. Close to home bases but I got sent to my first base at Kelly AFB, Texas and began my career working on C-124’s. It was a great assignment. From there it was, McGuire, Finally, Then Vietnam at Bien Hoa, Cam Ranh Bay and Can Tho,. After serving in Vietnam they usually said you got your choice of bases, I put in for all the Air Force bases in Florida I could find. And got assigned to Loring AFB in Northern Maine. Oh well it was fun anyway. Working on F-106 fighters in the 83rd FIS. A little strange at first because all I ever worked on was recip aircraft.. C-124, C-118’s at Kelly, C-7a’s in Vietnam, C-131, T-29’s at McGuire along with the C-141A’s my first jet. And then the F-106. The six was a big change. Anyway I really enjoyed my time working in the USAF.

My Diploma..

THE FLIGHT RADIO OFFICER

THE FLIGHT RADIO OFFICER OPERATOR SITTING BEHIND THE CO-PILOT ON RIGHT ON PAN AM BOEING 314

In today’s blog let’s take a look at one of the most important crew positions in a long haul flight, the long gone, very rarely looked at, Radio Operator. On most airlines the pecking order of command on long haul over the water type operations fell in this order of command.
1. Pilot
2. First Officer
3. Navigator
4. Radio officer
5. Flight engineer
6. Purser
7. Stewardesses

As is the tradition the Captain (Flight Officer Type) is in complete charge of the airplane and crew during the flight. He makes all the command decisions, and all crew members obey his orders. Now actually all decisions are usually based upon recommendations from other pertinent crew members.

The Flight Radio Officer would conduct the majority of the communications between the plane and ground via CW (Morse Code) with a key or via voice communications over HF Frequencies or later VHF. The Radio Officer was responsible for the tuning and proper operation of all the airborne radio equipment.

A lot of the over land communications was done by the pilot, but on occasion the Radio Officer took over and did the communications between airport towers, usually limited to periods immediately prior to and during takeoffs and landings. All tower operations were conducted by radio telephone, seldom over distances over 20 miles. As stated the pilot usually did this communicating so that the necessary information and instructions can be changed without any delay aboard the aircraft.

During the flight, messages are exchanged with ground stations. When these stations are specifically for two way communications with other planes, during the early years 30’s thru the 50’s CW was employed for the longer distances and was handled by the Flight Radio Officer.

Why the Radio Officer was so important on a flight falls in this direction. All the position reports, weather, messages from the pilot were handled by the Radio Officer. All weather, bearings, POR reports that came from the navigator were handled by the Radio Officer. The Radio Officer in turn transmitted all reports or messages to other planes, Communication stations, weather reports to ocean stations, received and coordinated with Direction Finding stations the position of the aircraft.

DC-4 RADIO STATION ON BOARD

The Aircraft Required Equipment: This will vary with the Airline.
1. The aircraft shall be equipped with at least one each of the following units:
2. Aircraft communications transmitter, A1, A2, A3 emission, medium-frequency and high-frequency, with external loading unit.
3. Aircraft communications receiver covering bands approximately 200 kc/s to 18 mc/s.
4. Aircraft VHF communications transceiver.
5.Automatic direction-finder with manual rotation control.
6. Marker beacon receiver.
7. Jack boxes, microphones, headphones, range filter, appropriate power supplies.




During a flight the Captain would approve each message before transmission by the Radio Officer.
When flying on domestic airways, the pilot usually originates position reports. At other times, the reports could also originate from the Navigator, who is actually setting the course.
On all long haul flight s the Radio Officer was required to:
1. Attend briefing and preflight discussion.
2. Collect necessary codes (if applicable,) papers, and equipment.
3. Preflight test of radio equipment
4. Establish communication with control station.
5. Carry out communication procedure for departure if needed and requested by Pilot
6. Maintain watch on control frequency.
7. Send periodical position reports to operations via CW.
8. Make all necessary airways VOICE contacts.
9. Obtain loop bearings and fixes, plot fixes.
10. Obtain weather reports, decode and pass to pilot.
11. Home on "broadcast" station or determine overhead or close abeams.
12. Listen in to pilot using radio approach and landing aids.
13. Complete a radio log.

RADIO OFFICERS LOG AND REPORT SHEETS
At the conclusion of a flight the Radio Officer is expected to sign the planes log book and to record all information regarding malfunctioning of the radio equipment. Also he is responsible for making any minor repairs on his radio equipment.

All Radio Officers lived by this General Rule:
NEVER ACKNOWLEDGE RECEIPT OF ANYTHING UNLESS YOU ARE CERTAIN YOU HAVE IT CORRECTLY. ALWAYS USE YOUR BEST JUDGEMENT.

Flight Radio Officer’s fell under the CAA Manual CAM 33. In 1956 the following was required of a Radio Officer to have and operate with a Commercial Radio Operators License. And be able to use and understand
Aircraft radio installations.


(a) Communications equipment. HF and MF communications transmitters and receivers; VHF communications units.
(b) Radio navigation equipment. Range receiver and filter, ADF and MDF; marker beacon receiver; omni-range receiver; ILS receivers and indicator; LORAN; radio altimeter.
(c) Other equipment. Intercom; audio control boxes; isolation amplifier; life raft radio; aircraft antennas; radio control panels; flux gate compass.
(iv) Aircraft electrical system. Student should be familiar with the basic primary electrical system of one of the long-range aircraft Constellation, DC-4, DC-6, or Boeing 377), including at least the following items:
(a) Generators. Principles of operation; method of mounting and driving; rated output; connection to main bus; carbon-pile voltage regulators; differential-voltage reverse- current relays; field circuit breakers; equalizers; field switches; procedure in event of generator failure.
(b) Batteries. Location; ampere-hour capacity; connection in system; utilization of outside power on ground.
(c) General. Type of wiring (single or two-wire) in electrical system; use of a. c. on aircraft; means of obtaining a. c.; fuses, precaution in changing fuses; circuit breakers; bonding and shielding.
(v) Ground radio aids.
(a) Communications. Agencies furnishing ground-to-air communications in United States; outside United States.
(b) Radio range stations. Four-course aural; VOR; VAR; MOR.
(c) Radio beacons. Class "H" facilities; marine radio beacons; fan marker beacons; "Z" marker beacons; bone-shaped marker beacons..
(d) Other radio aids to navigation. Ground D/F; broadcast stations; ocean station vessels (OSV's); Consol.
(vi) Radio navigation.
(a) Aircraft D/F procedures. Relative bearings; magnetic bearings; true bearings; homing; abeams; orientation; distance-off; overheads.
(b) Errors and corrections in radio direction finding. Coastline effect; terrain error; night effect; Mercator correction; turning and banking errors; quadrantal error.
(c) Radio navigation charts. Description of charts used in long-range operations; plotting radio bearings.
(d) Radio letdowns. Range; QDM; ILS; GCA.
(e) LORAN. Basic theory; operation aboard aircraft.
(vii) Operating procedures.
(a) Preflight inspection and radio check. Action in the event of radio failure.
(b) Communications facilities provided and nature of service given to aircraft.
(c) Position reporting, calling, acknowledgment, departure and arrival radio procedure.
(d) Suitable frequencies for DAY and NIGHT long-distance flights, changing radio guard.
(e) ICAO air-to-ground radio procedures-routine and emergency-radiotelegraph and radiotelephone.
(f) Conditions justifying transmission of distress, urgency, and safety signals; procedure during distress traffic; radio communications during ditchings and forced landings; cancellation of aircraft distress and emergency traffic; use of liferaft radio.
(g) ICAO "Q" Code,1 abbreviations and complementary code.
____________________
1 "Q" Signals:
QAB through QAZ, QBA, QBC, (used with QMI, QFT, QBJ, QMZ, and QTH). QBF, QBG, QBH, QBI, QBS, QBV, QBX, QCB, QCE, QDL, QDM, QDR, QDT, QDX, QFE, QFG, QFH, QFM, QFS, QGE, QGJ, QGQ, QGZ, QHH, QID, QLH, QMH, QMZ, QNI, QNT, QRD, QUG, QUO, QUR, QUS, QUU, QUV, QUX.
(h) Communications in air traffic control; air traffic control standards and procedures; oceanic air traffic control (OATC); communication in GCA work.
(i) Meteorological broadcasts; codes.
(j) Time signals.
(k) Search and Rescue procedure; ocean station vessels (OSV's).

Flight Training consisted of:
) Flight training. A minimum of 25 hours of flight training will be required on a multiengine aircraft incorporating a built-in flight radio operator station. This training may be conducted on flights which are engaged in other than training operations, including scheduled air carrier or other operations where passengers or cargo are carried for hire. All flight training, however, must be given under the direct supervision of a certificated flight radio operator.
Approximately 50 percent of the flight training should be devoted to practical radio navigation. The remainder should be allotted to CW and VOICE communications.

A nice job, when flying was interesting!

DC-4 N -90433 Flying Tiger Line Ditches In The Pacific

Tiger DC-4 on the Ramp.

This is the amazing story of a DC-4 that ditched in the Pacific Ocean. The Aircraft was owned and operated by Flying Tiger Inc. What is interesting in this story is how the complex fuel management system on board the DC-4 basically caused the accident.
I've always liked Flying Tiger, actually flew on one of their big DC-8-62's From McChord AFB Washington to South Vietnam over the blue Pacific.
Anyway here is the story. I used the actual investigation from the CAB report and info from a story about the crash published in Saga Magazine and also segemsnts taken from a C-54/DC-4 operating manual to explain the complex system.


DITCHED IN THE PACIFIC
THE DITCHING OF FLYING TIGER
DC-4 N-90433
SEPTEMBER 24, 1955


The crew of Flying Tiger Flight 7413-23 9 (Tiger 433) met in flight operations at Travis Air Force Base California early in the morning on September 24, 1955. The flight was a cargo flight loaded with 15,330 lbs. of cargo, (jet engines) destined for Tokyo, Japan.
The aircraft was a Douglas DC-4, serial number 10410, owned and operated by Flying Tiger Line inc. The aircraft was manufactured on September 23, 1940, and had a total of 25,590. The aircraft was equipped with Pratt And Whitney R-2000-7N2 with Hamilton Standard model 23850 propellers. Flying Tiger owned the aircraft on January 14, 1955.
Engines times:
No. 1 1,300 hours
No. 2 1,300 hours
No. 3 1,300 hours
No. 4 800 hours
The total time of the engines varied between 6,037 and 11,428 hours.
The crew consisted of Captain A. J. Machado, First Officer W.F. Gin, Co-pilot R. C. Hightower, and Navigators R.C. Olsen and D. Ventresca.
The trip departed Travis at 0958 and arrived at Honolulu at 2211. The aircraft was refueled, at Honolulu to 3,016 gallons for the flight to Wake Island the next scheduled refueling stop. There was no off loading in Honolulu.
Weights @ Honolulu
Cargo…….15,330
Fuel………18,096
Empty…….39,567
G/W@T/O..72,993 Actual T/O weight at Honolulu.

The aircraft departed Honolulu @ 0013, September 24, 1955. On an IFR flight plan to Wake Island Airport. The filed route was Green 9, Rhumbline track, to maintain 8,000 feet.
The dispatchers informed the crew that the weather they would encounter along the route consisted of a low pressure trough that they would cross at the 165 degrees of west longitude. There were no fronts to be crossed enroute. Scattered cumulus clouds would prevail on most of the route with tops extending to 12,000 feet.

The take off from Honolulu was uneventful. First Officer Warren Fong Gin who had 7.603 total flying hours with only 360 in the DC-4 seated on the left made the takeoff.
Captain Anthony J. Machado, was seated in the right seat, Captain Machado a very experienced pilot held ratings in DC-3/4/6 and C-46 aircraft he had a total of 13,450 hours of which 8,895 were in the DC-4. Co-pilot Robert Carl Hightower who had a total of 1,328 hours with only 20 of those hours in the DC-4 was seated on the jump seat between the pilots. The aircraft took off with all main tanks full of fuel, (total of 1,942 in the mains). The fuel management was set up so that the four main tanks supplied fuel to their respective engines. Also at takeoff the two outboard aux tanks were full (412 gallons each) and the two inboard aux tanks contained 130 gallons each. The inboard tanks had a capacity of 362 gallons each.
In cockpit behind the three pilots were the navigators Dominic Ventesca and Richard Carl Olsen. Olsen was Chief Navigator and Radio Officer for Flying Tiger line. The navigators were responsible for giving the Captain Machado while flying the route to Honolulu Tiger 433’s navigators gave hourly position reports to Honolulu ATC, the reports consisted of current Position, fuel remaining, ETA next Position and a weather report.
About one hour 0115 into the flight Captain Machado retired to a crew bunk to rest. Co-pilot Hightower took his seat which left first Officer Gin in charge.


The Control Pedestal on the DC-4, Showing Fuel selector levers.

The cruise control plan established by the crew required that when the main tanks were down to 400 gallons, Gin was too put No. 1 and No.2 engines on No. 2 auxiliary tank and engines 3 and 4 on No. 3 auxiliary tank with the crossfeed control positioned to each pair of engines. This required that when the fuel in the inboard aux tanks (no. 2@3 ) was down to around 20 gallons in each tank, the fuel selectors were positioned to the outboard aux tanks (no 1@4).
When Captain Machado returned to the flight deck after about five hours of rest this was the position the fuel selectors were in. He immediately took the left hand seat. First Officer Gin moved over the right seat relieving Hightower. At this time according to the crew there were 40 gallons in No. 1 aux tank supplying No. 1 and 2 engines, and 100 gallons in No. 4 aux tank supplying No. 3 and 4 engines. No. 2 and 3 aux tanks were empty because First Officer Gin had positioned selectors to transfer the remaining fuel) 20 gallons each) in the inboard aux tanks after switching from the outboard aux tanks.
At 0630 Tiger 433 was transferred to Wake Island ARTC for the remainder of the flight.
Approximately ten minutes after Captain Machado (0633) returned to the flight deck, No. 1 engine sputtered and quit, its fuel pressure dropped to zero. The captain immediately moved the No. 2 and 3 fuel selectors from off to full forward position, the other aux selectors were already in the full forward position. MISTAKENLY THINKING THIS IS THE POSITION FOR THE MAIN TANKS. He also shut off the crossfeeds. Then the No. 3 engine sputtered and quit and its fuel pressure dropped to zero. Captain Machado realized his error and immediately pulled all four selectors to the center or main tank position and moved the four mixture controls to the auto rich position.
During the emergency No. 2 engine also quit and its fuel pressure gauge read zero. Each fuel selector was checked for main tank position, they were found to be so positioned with crossfeeds off and main boost pumps on. The Captain then moved the crossfeed controls to the “All engines to Crossfeed” position which resulted in the fuel pressure of No. 4 engine fluctuating. Quickly the crossfeed valves were then shut off and No. 4 engine became stabilized. At this time the No. 1, 2 and 3 props continued to windmill with their respective selectors on the main tanks, main boost pumps and crossfeeds off. Captain Machado held them in this condition for a time period he thought would be sufficient for restarting the engines. Unfortunately the engines did not restart and their fuel pressures remained at Zero. Captain Machado had no alternative but to feather the No. 1, 2 and 3 props, and put the No. 4 engine at full power.
Three minutes later at 0633 Tiger 433 reported to Wake ARTC they were declaring an emergency, they advised Wake that they had lost three engines and were unable to return to Honolulu.
With the loss of three engines the aircraft began to descend. It was descending at airspeed of 135-140 knots. Engines No. 1 and No. 2 were unfeathered and separate attempts were made by the Captain to restart the, both attempts failed. The crew had no option but to refeather the engines and try to start No. 3 engine.
During the descent the captain ordered the men into their life vests. On the flight deck Captain Machado and First Officer Gin and Co-pilot Hightower standing between them were struggling to get an engine started.
During this rapid descent Navigator Ventresca went into in the cargo compartment and was trying to unlash and release the bulky cargo. Olsen was seated at the radio sending SOS and mayday reports to Wake, at a thousand feet above the ocean he clamped down his key so that a continues signal would be sent Olsen then took a position behind Gin’s seat and braced himself for the impact. Ventresca reported he was at the back of the aircraft braced against a bulk head. Hightower went back and seated himself in the radio operators seat.
But in the attempt to start the engines the aircraft struck the water in a slightly nose high attitude.
Finally around 500 feet Captain Machado took the controls and banked the aircraft so as to follow the rough swells that he could see on the dark ocean and brought the aircraft down.
The impact was at first not to bad but then a hard crashing jolt hit the aircraft. Captain Machado hit his head on the instrument panel and was knocked out. The cold sea water rushing into the aircraft woke the Captain. On the second impact the cargo broke loose and moving rapidly forward trapped First Officer Gin and Hightower, who was sitting in the radio operator’s seat. After the aircraft came to a stop Navigator Olsen opened the astrodome and Captain Machado desperately attempted to help the two trapped crew men from their seats. In a struggle the four men left the aircraft through the astrodome. The men floated in the sea looking at the aircraft rising and falling in the swells. Realizing the Ventresca was in the cargo compartment Captain Machado made his way back to the stabilizer and on the fuselage above the cargo door tried to open it but could would not open. He called to Ventresca to open the door from the inside, but Ventresca said he could not see and wanted to know which way to go. Unfortunately the men on the outside could not open the crew door and Navigator Ventresca who was still in the cargo compartment was trapped and sank with the aircraft.
Three of the crew had on their life jackets, Captain Machado could not locate his jacket. The men went into the water as the aircraft sank. Captain Machado had no life jacket until First Officer Gin and Navigator Olsen both died in the water during the more than 30 hours they were awaiting rescue. Captain Machado and Co-pilot Hightower both survived this horrendous ordeal suffering from impact injuries and shark bites during their hours in the water.
The amazing story of their survival while floating the ocean among sharks and heavy weather for over 30 hours was written in an Article by Edward Perry Stafford entitled “The Tigers and the Sharks”.in the August 1964 issue.

THE INVESTIGATION

Flying Tigers DC-4’s operated with a fuel system that included a 6 tank configuration and a 8 tank configuration which had different fuel selector positions. The Fuel selector positions on the 6 tank system were REAR-OFF; CENTER-AUXILIARY TANKS; FORWARD-MAIN TANKS. The DC-4 8 tank positions for the fuel selectors are: REAR-OFF;CENTER-MAIN TANKS; FORWARD-AUXILIARY TANKS.
According to records Captain Machado had piloted both types of the fuel selector DC-4 aircraft.
All pilot crewmembers were all checked out on these systems on the DC-4.

During the investigation flight tests were made on November 8. 1955 at the request of the Board and were observed by CAB personnel. The tests were conducted in a DC-4 equipped with the 8 tank system as installed on N90433. All possible reactions to the positioning of the control positions that Captain Machado listed in his report, including those before and those after he “Realized his mistake” in his first positioning of the fuel tank selectors.



Segments from the fuel operation system on a C-54/DC-4

THE ANALYSIS
The flight tests proved conclusively that if No. 1, 2, and 3 props had been allowed to windmill with fuel system and engine controls in the configurations described by Captain Machado, the engines would have restarted. The conditions described in the Captain’s report were: Ignition on; fuel selectors positioned on the main tanks for each respective engine; main tank boosts on; mixture auto rich; crossfeeds off.

While feathering the three propellers would slow the rate of descent the action definitely removed any possibility of restarting the engines while in that condition. The separate unfeathering of the propellers and the starting attempts probably consumed more time and altitude than the original feathering may have gained.

It is evident that if the remaining fuel (20 gallons each) in Nos 2 and 3 aux tanks had not been transferred by First Officer Gin, the loss of power would not have occurred when it did even though Nos 2 and 3 fuel selectors were incorrectly positioned for an indefinite period after the loss of power on the three engines.


Segment from C-54/ DC-4 Operating manual
If the fuel transfer had not been made, the additional normal flight time would have allowed the captain to make a thorough survey of the fuel situation and then an unhurried routine switching of each main tank to its respective engine. According to six hourly radio reports from the flight prior to the emergency, fuel consumption had been a uniform 200 gallons per hour for the four engines. Each main tank contained 400 gallons at the time of Captain Machado's return to the flight deck, according to his statement, and this amount of fuel was sufficient for approximately eight hours of flight. The flight tests also showed that even though the fuel transfer was made and the three engines subsequently stopped. there was more than sufficient time from the altitude of 8,000 feet to restart the engines. The practice employed by the crew in allowing two engines to be operated on one auxiliary tank down to 20 gallons of fuel is considered poor operating practice.

By reason of the positive results obtained in the flight tests, the Board concludes that the captain's and copilot's recollection of events occurring after the loss of power, as described in their statements, was incorrect an to action and/or sequence. This absence of accurate recollection is understandable when consideration is given to the stress of the emergency and subsequent events after the ditching and before rescue.

Findings

On the basis of all available evidence the Board finds that:

1.
The carrier, the aircraft, and the crew were currently certificated.

2.
According to company records., the load was within specified limits and properly distributed.

3.
Weather or navigation was not a factor in the accident.

4.
There was sufficient fuel aboard the aircraft to reach the destination.

5.
Loss of power was experienced in three engines because of the positioning of fuel selectors on empty or nearly empty tanks.

6.
The failure to restart the three engines was due to incorrect technique or improper method of using fuel selectors end associated controls.

Probable Cause

The Board determines that the probable cause of the accident was the loss of power in three engines due to incorrect fuel system management and faulty restarting methods which resulted in the ditching of the aircraft.

BY THE CIVIL AERONAUTICS BOARD:

REMEMBER THE AIRLINE NAVIGATOR

THE FLIGHT DECK ON A PAN AM B-314 FLYING BOATTHE NAVIGATOR STANDING AT THE LEFT
TAG PHOTO TO ENLARGE
THE LONG LOST FLIGHT NAVIGATOR
Can anyone remember the time when the navigation of a long haul airline flight depended upon the skill of a human ? A guy they called the navigator. A time when navigation was with pencil, map, sextant, sun and stars and not on some bland, black box run by electronics? A time when the navigator took over during a flight after leaving land ? Oh yes there were aids on land low frequency radio aids, lights, homing beacons, but remember when flying over water these aids did not help the crew they were quite useless.
The Professional Flight Navigator, like the professional Radio Operator, both crew members on over water airline flights have long been forgotten in civil aviation. The Navigator on board aircraft had there origins at sea where the need for accurate position was needed by ships travelling long distances on the ocean. With the advent of the airplane, airborne navigation was designed to help the flight crew know its position over the water. The technique was the same as the maritime methods, but the speed created more of problem. During the war years aerial navigation developed into a sophisticated science. Early aerial navigation methods grew into the development of radio navigation aids, and progressed into the sophisticated satellite navigation of today.
From the very beginning of airline flying, all over water flights carried a navigator. The navigator was an integral part of the flight crew . All large four engine transports used on the over water flights had a position for the navigator.
Remember the picture of the old Pan Am Boeing 314 Flying Boat and the view of the flight deck with the navigator standing at his chart table as if he was on board an ocean liner? The navigator on these boats had a well lit chart table below two large windows, out of which he could make certain navigational sights. He also had telescopic drift sight and a large panel to hold all his navigation instruments. On DC-4’s, DC-6’s, DC’7s and Connies etc. the navigator had his own flight station, although not as elaborate as the old Flying boat, but just as efficient.

PAN AM NAVIGATOR SHOOTING THE STARS

The navigator’s of that time period worked at their station on a small table affixed to the aircraft. At his station he had charts, an accurate time piece, (Chronograph) a weems plotter, a slide or circular flight computer, his air almanac, HQ 249 star tables, his sextant locked in a framed box, a pair of dividers, many pencils. On later flights he would have a LORAN set to work out lines of position.
What brought this subject to mind was an article I found in Flight International magazine from October 11, 1962. I t was sort of a sad story about how TWA was now relying upon A Bendix electronic Doppler navigation system to navigate their Boeing 707’s over the ocean. And the way of the Navigator was going into the books.
On October 1, 1962, TWA flew its first two Atlantic Crossings without the use of a human navigator, relying instead on duplicate Bendix Doppler computers operated by the pilots. So began the demise of the human flight navigator. Just the day before these flights TWA furloughed 37 of its 55 navigators. Thus began a new era in trans Atlantic navigation. The Airline Navigators Association was strenuously contesting this new “Do it yourself Navigation”. Their argument was set upon the fact that Doppler Navigation might reduce ATC separations over the Atlantic.
TWA claimed they had been testing Doppler navigation on their 707’s for over two years, proving to themselves and the FAA that they can dispense with navigators without the loss of safety or track keeping accuracy.
The ANA argued that they had reports from military and civil research agencies and from its own members that the Mid Atlantic Shelf has magnetic anomalies, which interfere with compasses and radio propagation causing unchangeable navigation errors of significant magnitude.


TWA NAVIGATOR ON A CONNIE


It seems the demise for the navigators came when TWA pilots stated that they spend between 15 and 20 minutes plotting fixes with the Doppler and reporting position reports during the overseas flight and that they are no more occupied with navigation than during normal airway flying over Europe or United States.
The two innagural navigstorless flights made from New York to London and Paris, made landfall respectively ten miles and two miles off course after 1,750 or more miles over ocean. The London flight was four miles south of track with the Doppler according to a fix plotted by radar on the ocean station vessel Charlie.
The navigators livelihood was at stake at TWA. The Doppler was thoroughly tested and the most damaging thing to the navigators was the pilots report on the ease of Doppler Navigation. So began the demise of the Flight Navigator.
The final issue of the Flight Navigator’s on board aircraft of TWA was concluded with the Airline Navigators Association in 1964 agreeing to surrender their jobs at TWA in return for a up front cash payment plus three years of severance pay and health insurance.
So like the Navigator's who once flew the oceans for TWA, the airline itself was ended with it's final flight on December 1, 2001 with an MD-80 Aircraft (N948TW). The ceremonial last flight was Flight 220 from Kansas City, Missouri, to St. Louis, with CEO Captain William Compton at the controls. The final flight before TWA officially became part of American Airlines was completed between St. Louis and Las Vegas, Nevada, also on December 1, 2001. At 10:00 p.m. CST on that date, employees began removing all TWA signs and placards from airports around the country, replacing them with American Airlines signs. At midnight, all TWA flights officially became listed as American Airlines flights. Some aircraft carried hybrid American/TWA livery during the transition, with American's tricolor stripe on the fuselage and TWA titles on the tail and forward fuselage. Signage still bears the TWA logo in portions of Concourse D at Lambert St. Louis International Airport. On some MD-80 aircraft, the cabinets retain TWA logos.


How can I let the most famous airline navigator in the movies, the hard working Lenny Wilby from the movie “The High And The Mighty not be recognized?

As TOPAC Flight 420 passes the infamous Point Of No Return at 9,000 feet above the Pacific Ocean on a flight from Honolulu to San Fransico, the No. 1 engine throws a prop and the insuing fire cause the engine to break free from the mounting bolts and hangs partially off the wing causing an increase in drag. Anyway, with more than a 1,000 miles to go the engine breached the left wing's outboard fuel tank (#1) resulting in the loss of a critical 200 gallons of the less than 1,300 of fuel that remained from the original 3,050 gallon load which the DC-4 had taken on at Honolulu. That’s the scene.
Now Navigator Lenny Wilby at first believes the airliner has enough fuel to make land, but then finds an error in his calculations and realizes they will run out "11 minutes short" of the airport unless the winds change. His error was he used statute miles instead of nautical miles and came up a little short. Looks like they may have to ditch the bird in the ocean.

LENNY THE NAV STANDING BETWEEN THE PILOTS ON THE DC-4
As usually happens in movies of that time period the out come is good. And after more than six hours of terror, the airliner ultimately just makes it to San Francisco International Airport (SFO) but touches down with only two of its four engines still operating as Dan Roman (John Wayne The Hero of the Flight) had been forced to feather #4 when it also failed owing to fuel starvation shortly after passing the OM on its (ILS) approach to that field's Runway 28R
Great Movie, and Lenny did correct his error!