Monday, January 31, 2011

Some Thoughts on the Convair Liners... CV-240 and CV-340

A Flight Global Aricle From 13 February 1953





THOUGHTS ON THE CONVAIR-LINER
ONE reason for the belief that few, if any, orders have been
lost to the British civil aircraft industry by reason of long
delivery-dates may well be that a great part of the market has
already been captured by American competitors. Many of our
potential customers have quite recently placed orders for American
transport aircraft which must be fully utilized for anything between
five and ten years before their owners can think of replacing them
with turbine-powered types. In the long- and medium-range
categories most of the successful American machines are of wartime
or immediate post-war design, and the latest orders are for
those versions developed to give better performance and payload
capacity.
A good example of these successful American designs is the
Convair-Liner series for short and medium stage-lengths. The
prototype Model 240 first flew in March 1947 and was certificated
for civil aviation only eight months later. Altogether 175 Convair
240s were built—170 for the airlines. A larger, more powerful
version, the Model 340, made its initial flight in October 1951 and
received its C.A.A. certification in March 1952. Latest available
figures show that the 340 has proved as attractive to operators as
its predecessor, for over 20 orders have subsequently been placed
for a total of at least 175 aircraft. Several have already been
delivered and are in service with domestic operators.
Assuming a unit value of £200,000 per aircraft (and this is considerably
less than the figure at present quoted for the 340), these
combined orders for 350 Convair-Liners are worth £70 million—
or some £35 million more than the total value of Britain's aircraft
exports in 1952. About three-quarters of Convair's civil output is
for domestic operators, the total export value of Model 240s
delivered or 340s on order being in the region of £18 million.
Details of Convair orders and the 32 operators responsible (including
26 airlines) are as follows:
American Airlines 79 CV-240
Braniff 20 CV-340
Chicago ajd Southern 10 CV-340
Continental 5 CV-240 ..7 CV-340
Delta 10 CV-340
Hawaiian 10 CV-340
National 6CV-340
P.A.W.A. 15 CV-340
Northeast 5 CV-240 ..4 CV340
United 55 CV-340
Western 10 CV-240


(excluding military contracts):—
previous purchase of 240s. The largest number of 340s will be
operated by United Air Lines, with 55 aircraft; five of these were
originally ordered by Pioneer Air Lines. Large numbers of the
T-29 crew-trainer version of the 340 have been delivered to, or
are on order for, the U.S.A.F., and an additional order for turboprop
variant (employing Allison T-38 turboprops and designated
T-29E) was placed in October 1951. Yet another military version
ordered in large numbers is the C-131 casualty-evacuation transport.
The Convair 240 is normally equipped to carry 40 passengers
plus baggage. By comparison, the Model 340 has a longer fuselage
providing standard accommodation for 44 passengers or additional
freight; it also has higher aspect-ratio wings of increased span to
permit the carriage of 500 gallons extra fuel (the 34o's two integral
fuel tanks give a total capacity of 1,750 U.S. gallons). Numerous
other refinements have been embodied. Basic comparative data
for the two aircraft are as follows: Convair 240: length, 74ft 8in;
span, 91ft 9m; wing area, 817 sq ft; weight empty, 30,3451b;
take-off weight, 41,7901b. Convair 340 : length, 79ft 2in; span,
105ft 8in; wing area, 920 sq ft; weight empty, 32,3991b; take-off
weight, 47,000 lb. Both types are pressurized and are powered by
the same basic engine—the Pratt and Whitney R-2800; but the
Model 340 has two CB16 engines which give a higher normal
cruising power than the CAi8s powering the earlier machine. For
short ranges the manufacturers quote maximum payloads of
10,155 lb (Model 240) and 14,100 lb (Model 340).
One disadvantage common to both aircraft is that the relatively
narrow internal cabin-width of 8ft ioin makes five-abreast seating
an impossibility. In the 340, higher-density seating can only be
achieved by installing extra pairs of seats in the fore or aft portions
of the cabin and by decreasing the seat-pitching, in stages, from
the normal 38m down to 34m. In this way, seating capacity can
be varied between 44 and 56.
According to the maker's figures, the Convair 340 can carry
13,500 lb payload over a 200-mile stage-length at a block speed of
210 m.p.h., assuming that 1,100 b.h.p. are being drawn from each
engine at a cruising height of 10,000ft in still air; under the same
conditions a payload of 10,000 lb can be carried by the 340 on a
1,000-mile stage at a block speed of 240 m.p.h.
Convair's estimate of operating costs under U.S. domestic
conditions shows a direct hourly cost of $138 and a corresponding
figure of 67 cents per statute mile. These values assume a fairly
high average utilization of eight hours daily, average journey length
of 200 miles and speed of 207 m.p.h., with seven-year depreciation
of capital investment. Corresponding figures for operating the
CV-340 outside the United States show increases of some $60 per
hour and 25 cents per mile, primary reasons for the increase being
high fuel costs and lower utilization. In any case, such figures are
probably optimistic and would vary greatly under different
operating circumstances.
The price of a Convair 340 with spares, according to the latest
available estimate, is $700,000 (£250,000), making it more expensive
than the Viscount—which, as recent events have shown, is
now capable of competing with the Convair on better than equal
terms. In performance, structure weight and dimensions, the
specifications of the two aircraft are remarkably close, but the
British machine, being four-engined, is basically more costly to
build in terms of man-hours and materials.
Only high U.S. labour costs can be responsible for the undoubtedly
steep price of the Convair, bearing in mind the fact that
the American company's design, jigging and tooling costs are
spread over an output of over 600 basically similar aircraft, compared
with (so far) 75 in the case of the British machine. Vickers-
Armstrongs claim superiority for the Viscount on the scores of
speed, operating cost and load-carrying ability over almost the
entire medium-range band. In addition, the four-turbine-engined
airliner is claimed to have more passenger-appeal from the aspects
of comfort, performance and security. Events support a belief
that the Convair sales-curve is well past its peak, and confidence
that present and future versions of the Viscount will achieve at
least comparable success on the world's short- and medium range
air routes.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

New York Metroplex Procedure Plan 1970 SID's @ STAR"s

I found this cool old chart from 1970 in my air traffic controller course books. While in the PANG.


NEW YORK METROPLEX 1970 PROCEDURAL PLAN

On 2 April 1970 a new air traffic procedural plan will be implemented in the New York area. The plan represents a major improvement in the Air Traffic system. It includes significant revisions to the existing procedures. Primary arrival fixes have been moved out to provide additional departure routes and greater flexibility in handling the air traffic. Improved distribution of traffic to reduce bottlenecks is expected. Improved arrival procedures have been developed to insure against gaps in arrival sequences.

Sorry my scanner is to small had to piece the chart
TAG all photos to enlarge


















Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Cockpit Photo ...Unknown

Found this old photo at a flea market, but can't seem to identify the twin engined aircraft.

Does it look familiar to anyone?




Tag to enlarge

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

FLYING THE EARLY BOEING 707-80 "THE DASH EIGHTY


Boeing 707-80 prototype

"The view from the pilots seat is excellent"

Flying the Boeing 707-80

A fantastic article about flying the original Boeing 707 written in Flight Magazine, 15, June 1956

Captain Spooner is the Senior captain on B.O.A.C. Stratocruiser fleet. He was the first Englishman to fly the 707.. On this flight he flew with famous Boeing test pilot Tex Johnston.


FLYING THE 707
By CAPT. ANTHONY SPOONER

15 June 1956

ON April 11, at the invitation of Boeing, I was privileged
To visit Seattle for three days and to fly the 707 prototype.
It is no small tribute to the far-sightedness of
manufacturers that the importance of the pilot's opinion, as
Expressed through his national associations and through the
International Federation of Air Line Pilots Association, is now
sufficiently recognized for such visits to be arranged.
So smoothly did the journey go that after departure by
B.O.A.C. Monarch at 8 p.m. on Monday, April 10, I was able
to touch down some 6,000 miles away at 8.30 p.m. the following
evening. I was naturally tired, partially because I had worked
my passage across the Atlantic as a navigator, but none the less
not unduly so, for both airlines had run to schedule and both
trips had been carried out in near perfect weather. Also, my
Transatlantic Stratocruiser and United Airlines' DC-6B were
exceptionally quiet aircraft. More modern piston-driven equipment
may be faster but certainly is not quieter.
During my three-and-a-half-hour transit in New York I telegraphed
ahead to Mr. Ralph Bell, Boeing director of sales, and
he kindly arranged for a car to meet me at the Seattle-Tacoma
Airport. This was but one of the thoughtful gestures which he
and his staff made. During this visit I received as much courtesy
and attention from all of Boeing as I would had I been a
potential customer with a $100 million order burning a hole in
my pocket. This is one more example of the fact that responsible
manufacturers are fully alive to the worth of pilot opinion, and
it is in keeping with the policy recently adopted by Vickers and
Bristols at home.
Out at the huge Boeing plant early next morning, I was put
in charge of Mr. Ray Chamberlain of the sales department. He
readily understood my position and for the next three days acted
as guide, counsellor and friend. He rarely left my side and
spared no pains to ensure that I saw what I wanted and got an
answer to the many questions I asked. At no time was it necessary
for me to emphasize the point that, although the operator
is the customer of the aircraft manufacturer, the pilot is the true
consumer of his products.
From Ray Chamberlain I learned that a special flight had
been arranged for me that afternoon. It should give satisfaction
to pilots to realize that such a flight, costing more than $5,000,
had been specifically arranged and that no attempt was made to
fit it in with some existing test programme. Later in the morning
I had the pleasure of a frank talk with



Mr. W. E. Beall, the senior vice-president. Points arising from
this talk were that Boeing did not necessarily confine their structural
programme to the strict C.A.A. requirements. When in
any doubt, they did not hesitate to exceed these standards. For
example, he referred me to the additional stress-factors they
had given to the window cut-outs and to the fact that, though
American design philosophy favoured a multi-path constructional
method in preference to the British guaranteed-life test-tank
procedure, Boeing, while keeping faith with all of the requirements
of the former, were in addition planning to subject a
complete 707 fuselage to a thorough water-tank test. However,
they were not contemplating wing-flexing tests.
Another point Mr. Beall rightly made was that Boeing aircraft
had carried out virtually millions of flying hours in the
40,000-ft zones and they had done this in highly pressurized,
large fuselages, yet they had never experienced a single decompression
failure in flight. Thus, in building fuselages capable
of withstanding high differential pressures, they were, in the
707, doing a little more than they had been doing in the military
field for the past seven or eight years.
The rest of the morning was taken up in conversation with
Mr. Taylor, manager of customer relations, and with Mr. Jack
Steiner, project engineer for the 707. I was to see a lot of Jack
Steiner for the next three days and I soon learned that he was
a walking encyclopedia of technical information. His office is at
the Renton Plant some miles away. In this plant, which is soon
to be considerably enlarged, the KC-135 (Boeing jet tanker) and
the 707 production lines are being laid down. Up to now, most
of the 700-odd KC-97s (Stratocruiser tankers) had been built
here and the change-over from the one type to the new types
is in full swing. To give some indication of the size of the future
production, I quote the figure I was given that some $45 million
had been expended on the jigging alone. Clearly Boeing mean
to build this new aircraft in hundreds, if not thousands.
At present the KC-135 programme is ahead of the 707
schedule. I was able to see for myself how near to flight the
first of the production aircraft were and I saw signs that others
would soon be following. There are no visible signs of any
707 assuming definite shape, but I understand that they are
already cutting metal for the first production model due to fly
early in 1958.



Here I think it worth explaining the similarity and differences
between the two aircraft. In basic appearance, both the KC-135
and the 707 are remarkably similar and both stem from the
prototype 707 which first flew 21 months ago. Certain vital
sections are common to all three aircraft. These are the wing,
the gear, the control surfaces, and sweepback. Generally it is
true to say that the underside of the fuselage is basically the
same. Initially, both aircraft will use the same type of engines,
mounted on identical pod beams. However, the similarity is
only basic. Customer requirement and conflicting standards for
military and civil usage have, in effect, made the 707 and the
KC-135 only about 25 per cent exact in detail. For example,
the upper fuselage shape of the 707 is both taller and wider than
that of the KC-135, since this latter is an upright oval and the
707 has a double bubble joined at a crease cord. Also, the customer
and civil requirements have resulted in the 707 design of
emergency flap and gear being considerably altered so as to have
no controls other than in the cockpit.
It should be emphasized that both the KC-135 and the 707
are considerably larger aircraft than the prototype now flying.
It was quite obvious from all I saw that Boeing means to
make a serious challenge in the civil aircraft field. They certainly
cannot be accused of running off a few civil aircraft on a military
production line. Possibly this change in their thinking stems
from a practical realization that it is economically unsound to
put all one's eggs into one basket. Possibly, too, they have (by
using hindsight) been kicking themselves for failing twice in the
past to cash in upon innovations in the civil market which they
pioneered only for others to profit by. I am thinking of their
model 247, which preceded the universally used DC-2 and -3
and yet was at that time the only all-metal, monocoque, monoplane
transport. I also have in mind the Stratoliner, which preceded
other four-engined pressurized aircraft by several years.
This time they seem quite determined to profit by the lead in
experience in this size of jet aircraft, a lead which they now unquestionably
hold. At the same time, they stand to profit in
experience by having a military type of certain similarity in full
production and service prior to the first civil deliveries. The
importance of this fact is immense, since it means that before even
the first civil production model gets itself into the air a vast flying
programme will have been carried out by die military cousin. How
many of these KC-135s will have been airborne prior to the first
civil deliveries is anyone's guess, but it will be many more than
150. The plant extension and colossal jigging programme
indicates some such figure. The point should also be borne in
mind that already the prototype 707 has logged over 400 hours
on over 320 individual flights.
Before leaving this subject, it should be remembered that this
prototype is neither a 707 production model nor a KC-135. Its
relationship to the production 707s is comparable with that of the
Vickers-Armstrongs 630 to the subsequent Viscount 700 series.
An interesting period was spent with Jack Steiner and the everpresent
Ray Chamberlain examining one of the mock-ups of the
707. Several mock-ups are being produced, according to varying
customer requirements. Generally, the mock-up I saw (and I think
it was the Pan American one) revealed few surprises, since most of
the details have been published some time ago. The view from
the pilot's seat is excellent, comparable indeed with that of the
Stratocruiser except for the absence of the lower windows. On
the other hand, the pilot has been placed much closer to the large
forward-facing windows, which must be about 36in across. He
is also placed closer to the side windows. I understand that the
fields of vision are now capable of exceeding the existing American
S.A.E. requirements.
The pilot's instruments (standard size) will obviously vary somewhat
from customer to customer. The engine instruments are
of the 2in size and seem to be too small. However, later in the
day when actually aloft, it did seem possible to read them without
much difficulty. In spite of this, I consider that a better-balanced
situation would result if most of the existing five rows of small engine
instruments on the pilot's central panel were shifted to the flight
engineer's panel; the central instruments could then be of normal
size. I was informed that some such arrangement was within
the bounds of customer requirement but, doubtless, at some
additional cost. It would not, I think, clutter up the flight
engineer's panel unduly and would have as an additional advantage
the merit of leaving some space in the central panel for the introduction
at a later date of additional instruments. Experience has
shown that the state of the art is always progressive and that every
year or so a vital additional instrument is developed as a positive
requirement. For instance, engine-mounting-vibration instruments
might well become a desirable addition to jet aircraft, as they have
to conventional aircraft. Another point is that at present the
flight engineer's panel does not contain all engine instruments. It
principally concentrates upon electrics (D.C. and A.C.), fuel
system and gauges, cabin pressure control and an impressive overhead
circuit-breaker panel; the hydraulic gauges are up front by the
co-pilot with the emergency change-over controls situated between
engineer and co-pilot.
The earlier proposal to hinge the flight-engineer panel so that
it could be swivelled towards the pilot has been abandoned. The
panel is reasonably close to the pilots and I would judge that
nearly all his controls can be reached by one or the other of the
pilots making a "long arm."
In contrast to the mock-up, the prototype 707 (which is generally
known as the Dash Eighty) has only three rows of 2in engine
instruments up front; it also has the radio panel mounted in the
overhead position. Such pictures as have been released did not,
therefore, give a true representation of the production aircraft.
It has been considerably redesigned so as to allow for several types
of radar. In the production machine, since part of the radar
is in the overhead panel, the radio panel has been re-located to lie
at elbow level on either side of the throttle quadrant.
The proposed method of applying reverse thrust was foreign to
me and, consequently, seemed awkward. It is, however, basically
similar to that now in use by Constellation pilots and I was
informed that it carried their blessing. The rear of the throttle
quadrant is given over to the fuel and engine cut-off controls,
thus precluding the utilization of this section for reverse thrust.
It also means that engine starting is a pilot-control operation.
Because I have been nursed for so long by efficient flight engineers
in a Stratocruiser, I am opposed to this philosophy and I would
have preferred starting to be taken over by the flight engineer.
The afternoon was given over to a flying programme. The
flight test division of Boeing is in the charge of "Tex" Johnston,
chief of flight test, and after only a brief chat with Tex and his
chief henchman, "Dix" Loesch, I was installed in the left-hand
scat of the 707-80 with Tex alongside. Dix acted as flight engineer.

ENGINE starting is pneumatic, in keeping with the modern
American practice of dispensing with the battery and using
direct A.C. generation. There is, of course, a small D.C.
battery for certain secondary purposes. Various devices are offered
by Boeing to enable one engine to be started without the use of
specialized pneumatic ground starting equipment. The customer
can take his pick according to the weight penalty he is prepared
to stand. The internal starting systems are a combination of
electrical, pneumatic and combustion and the air supply required
is drawn from compressed-air bottles.
Engine starting appears to be a simple operation but, as I have
explained before, it must be performed largely by the pilots, since
the flight engineer has no physical control over the one set of
throttles aboard. Once one engine is running3 the others can be
started internally by using the air supply and electrical power
generated by the engine so running. It was worth noting here that
all four engines will be fitted with 30 kVA A.C. generators driven
by Sundstrand drives. Starting certainly takes no longer than
in piston-engined aircraft and from the cockpit the operation is
practically inaudible. Indeed, the sound level in the cockpit is
remarkably low at all stages of flight,
Taxying presented no problems apart from some difficulty
experienced in unlocking the parking brake. I did criticize, however,
the size of the nose steering wheel; I would have preferred
a wheel of much bigger segment. From an airport congestion
angle the inability to lock the tandem bogie mainwheels on the
inside of a turn may make the parking of the aircraft in a confined
space a difficult problem. I understand that there is on the market a
polished steel plate which ground crews can insert under the
inboard wheel. This acts as a turntable and enables the aircraft
to execute the equivalent of a wheel-locked turn. I also understand
that some airports are building in similar turntables as a
permanent feature of the apron areas.



The weight at which the Dash Eighty [as the prototype is
usually called] was being flown was at almost irreducible minimum
since it had been flying nearly all morning and refuelling would
have caused a delay on a ramp which was packed solid with
production B-52s. At take-off, we were about 122,000 lb. ("Child's
IN these pages, Capt. Spooner, D.S.O., D.F.C., continues his account of
a visit to Seattle, where he was invited by the Boeing Airplane Company
to sample the prototype 707. A senior B.O.A.C. Stratocruiser captain,
and chairman of the British Air Line Pilots' Association, Capt. Spooner
made the flight as a representative of pilots, and not as a prospective
customer. In Part 1, last week, he described preparations for 707 production
and commented on various features of die aircraft Here he
tells the story of the flight, which was made in company with "Tex"
Johnston, chief of flight test, and his henchman "Dix" Loesch, who
acted as flight engineer. A few company officials went along for the ride.
play to four derated J57s producing about 9,500 lb thrust per
engine.") Fuel on board for this flight was about 20,000 lb.
I had expected Tex to do the take-off, but no sooner had he
asked me to unlock the parking brake and steer the aircraft down
the commencement of the centre line (both parking brakes and
nose steering are controlled from the captain's seat alone) than
he called, "You've got it. It's all yours." Nosewheel steering
was gradually abandoned to rudder pedal control at about 80 kt
and at about 100 kt the nose was raised well clear of the ground.
At about 120 kt, without any real recognition of the fact, I became
aware that we were airborne. It is interesting to note that, due
to careful design and recognition of the dangers involved, this
aircraft is not unduly affected by an apparent tail-up or tail-down
configuration. It will fly off at almost any reasonable attitude
and the fore-and-aft-trimming device is compensated by the individual
M.A.C. percentage as listed in the load sheet. Gear and
flaps were raised without any noticeable change of attitude and
the aircraft commenced climbing at alarmingly steep angle at
about 4,000 ft/min with a rapidly increasing indicated air speed.
The problem with this particular prototype is that there is a
limitation speed of 180 kt with the flaps in the take-off position.
This is being improved in the production models, which are
designed to permit a take-off-flap speed of up to 220 kt. Since I
had not located the flap indicator and was not anxious to exceed
the 180 kt limit until absolutely certain that the flaps were full in,
I practically had to stand the aircraft on its tail to keep the speed
down whilst checking with Tex that the flaps had come full in.
In all, it took seven to eight minutes to reach an altitude of
31,000ft with an airspeed indicating between 250 and 300 kt. At
this height the aircraft was clearly hungry for more altitude, since,
although we were now climbing at Mach number 0.8, the rate
of climb still indicated about 4,000 ft/min. (We were, of course,
almost incredibly lightly loaded.) The control of the aircraft did
not present a fraction of the difficulty the instruments did. The
latter problem was purely a question of unfamiliarity. For example,
the airspeed pointer rotated through 360 dcg to indicate each
100 kt and it took me a little time to locate the sub-pointer that
showed whether I was going at 210 or 310 kt I.A.S. Likewise,
with an altimeter winding-off the tens of thousands of feet so
rapidly, I had to hunt about with my eyes for the little hand
showing me whether I. was at 6,000, 16,000, 26,000 or 36,000!
The Sperry Flight Integration System was also strange to me,
but once I discovered a standard-type artificial horizon I concentrated
upon this rather than upon the complicated unfamiliar
instruments. The rate-of-climb indicator was off the clock most
of the time, due to our phenomenal rate of ascent, and the tiny
r.p.m. dials in the centre panel presented a percentage of maximum
r.p.m. rather than the r.p.m. themselves. Never having flown a
jet aircraft before, the significance of the other engine instruments
was largely lost to me.
Controlwise, the aircraft was almost perfect, except that I found
myself fiddling about with the fore-and-aft-trim device rather
unnecessarily.



The flying control system is worth a chapter itself, and so much
has already been written that I hesitate to add more. However,
to pass lightly over such perfection is to do it less than justice.
Basically, the aircraft has a spring servo-tab system. The forces
acting upon these tabs move control surfaces which are aerodynamically
balanced. Both controls and tabs are also statically
balanced, so that when the aircraft is at rest there is nothing
dangling down. The aerodynamic balancing is achieved internally
by methods which Boeing have evolved from much wind-tunnel
experiment, backed up by many thousands of hours' flying
experience.
Allied to this are two extra control forces. These are an adjustable
horizontal stabilizer and two supplementary lateral control
systems. The adjustable horizontal stabilizer can be controlled
either manually or electrically; and in practice the latter is used,
since some 90 turns of the trimming wheel are required between
full tail-up and tail-down positions. Manually, this would require
considerable physical effort. The electrical system operates through
a clutch to the same trimming wheel as is used manually, and
when electrical actuation is called for this trim wheel literally
whirrs around. However, if the electric motor did happen to run
away (a most unlikely event, since elaborate precautions have been
taken to prevent this), the trim wheel can be stopped physically.
It could, however, cause a pilot to lose some skin, and it might
perhaps be preferable to use the sole of the shoe rather than the
palm of the hand. Regardless of this fact, the most satisfactory
feature of this device is that, provided a good e.g. position is
established, it does not matter very much where the horizontal
stabilizer is. Except when being flown at the extreme limits of the
e.g. range, the aircraft can be handled (and, I believe, even landed)
with the trim wheel right forward or right aft. It simply requires
greater stick forces. My error in fiddling with the trim wheel was
that I was trying to achieve a perfect hands-off trim by a cautious
turn or two of the wheel. These little movements had practically
no effect whatsoever until I grasped the idea that I really had to
spin the wheel like a rotary polishing mop for anything noticeable
to take place.
Lateral control is threefold. There are two separate sets of
ailerons and the lift spoilers (two a side, on top of each wing).
The asymmetrical use of these spoilers provides, in effect, a third
set of ailerons. They are normally used as ailerons throughout
the entire flight and except when disengaged (when they lie flat)
or when no hydraulic pressure is available (when they also lie flat),
they are automatically connected to the aileron movement of the
control column. Even when being partially used symmetrically
as speed brakes, they still act as additional ailerons. When the
spoilers are in the fully "up" maximum speed-brake position, then
and then only is partial aileron effect lost, because it is impossible
to raise the spoilers more than 100 per cent. But even in this case
there is a little aileron effect, since the hydraulic follow-up
mechanism does have the effect of slightly depressing the spoiler
which is on the outside of the turn. However, since spoilers are
only used as full dive brakes or speed brakes for an emergency
descent or some such unusual proceeding and are normally partially
used in the symmetrical configuration, the condition of being
deprived of aileron (spoiler) effect seldom applies. Of the two
normal sets of ailerons, the outboard set is only effective when the
flap is down. With the raising of the flaps after take-off the
gearing of this set of ailerons is progressively reduced to zero. On
take-off, I tried to detect a reduction in lateral control ratio as the
flaps came in, but I was unable to do so; nor did I notice any
increase in aileron effect when, ultimately, I lowered flap prior to
landing.
In normal flight, the rate of roll is considerably more effective
than on any large aircraft I had previously flown, and a good
feature is that maximum bank can be achieved without the control
wheel exceeding 90 deg of movement. Thus a pilot does not get
himself into the hands-crossed-over position so difficult to maintain
without change of grip. Since the spoiler-aileron device is
hydraulically operated, the question at once arises of what happens
if the hydraulics fail. As previously mentioned, the mechanical
effect is for the spoilers to lie flat. The aircraft is now entirely
controlled laterally by the small-area inboard ailerons and, to my
surprise, the effect on control at speed is almost negligible. I
did not have occasion to try out this situation at low speed; but
the aircraft has often been landed with the hydraulic power to the
spoilers switched off, so the effect is certainly not one liable to
cause a disaster. I did try 60 deg bank turns at Mach number 0.83
using inboard ailerons alone and I was able to swing from one
turn into the opposite turn with far less effort than required when
flying a Stratocruiser. With the spoilers operating this manoeuvre,
more can be achieved easily with one hand.
Those who saw Tex Johnston perform an upward barrel roll
in the 707, starting from only a few hundred feet up, can bear
witness to the aircraft's impressive manoeuvrability.
The rest of the flying programme was taken up with demonstrations
of stalls clean and stalls with everything dangling. In both
cases, lateral control was available down to the stall, with ample
warning provided by buffeting which commenced mildly at about
20 kt above the stall and progressed to a horrible fierceness. This
is an aircraft that needs no artificial stall warning device.
Recovery from stalls presents no difficulty. Some time was
spent in the air slamming throttles back and then, with the engines
idling, pushing the power hard against the forward stops with
the kind of rough movement normally only reserved for opening
swing-doors. The absence of engine surge or pulping was remarkable.
Equally remarkable was the almost instantaneous power
response. As one threw the throttles forward one was almost hit
in the back by the acceleration forces.
At my request, Tex demonstrated an emergency descent. At
the time we were cruising along at some 310 kt I.A.S. at a height
of about 33,000ft. First action is to close the throttles and apply
full air brake. This is always possible, since there is no speed
limitation on the spoilers. The gear can be dropped at 270 kt
I.A.S. and, in a matter of seconds after pushing the control column
hard forward, Mother Earth appears straight in front of the
windscreen. Once the gear is fully down, the speed can be
increased to 320 kt I.A.S.; and, though now only inboard ailerons
are effective, ample lateral control is available. On the descent
we lost about 183000ft in one-and-a-half minutes in spite of having
to make turns away from the mountain ridge I happened to be
diving at.
Another demonstration I was able to try was the sudden pulling
back of an outboard engine. Almost no yaw effect was felt and
one twist of the rudder trim-control wheel restored flight to
normal. The engine was then completely stopped and relit without
fuss or ado, although it was felt necessary to limit our threeengine
speed to 240 kt prior to relighting. In this case, relighting
was performed at about 25,000ft; but, I understand, relighting
can be performed at up to 40,000ft.
As we had now been up about one hour, our limited fuel supply
was running low; so, after Tex had exchanged the right-hand seat
with Dix, we proceeded back to Seattle, noting on the way how
effectively the D.M.E. was performing. This appears to give accurate
indications beyond 100 miles.
As far as I can recollect, the highest Mach number reached
during this flight was about 0.86. At no time was a noticeable
change in pitch or roll apparent and, except when actuating the
air brakes at speed, there was no buffeting. The aircraft is
guaranteed to Mach 0.88 and has been flown up to at least 0.95.
The buffeting experienced by applying the spoilers as air brakes
was of moderate character and did not prevent normal control
movements from being made.
When at about 4,000ft downwind of the airport and at about 240
kt I.A.S., Dix suggested that I might like to figure out an approach
on the landing circuit for myself. In the absence of any guidance
other than that the speed over the fence should be about 120 kt,
this was an interesting exercise. The speed was rapidly lowered
by the immediate dropping of the gear and, on a wide base leg,
I was able to get the approach flaps down at 180 kt. Power was
controlled by pushing or pulling throttles, by feel rather than by
reference to unfamiliar (and largely incomprehensible) engine
instruments. Responses were so rapid that this method proved
quite effective. On finals, full flap was called for at 140 kt at
about 300ft up, and this was accomplished with little noticeable
change of attitude. The 707 is not one of those aircraft which
dives steeply with the application of landing flap. The lowering
of initial flap, 30 deg, did cause a slight nose-down attitude, but
I did not feel any urgent need to trim this out, preferring to hold
back the nose-down tendency by slightly increasing the backward
stick force. There was a slight balloon effect on the flare-out,
but it was not of such magnitude that a sudden forward movement
of the control column was called for.



A smooth touch-down was made with the nosewheel held off the
runway and there was no tendency either to sink rapidly immediately
prior to landing on or to bounce after touch-down. We
did float half-way down the long runway but this, I think, was
due to the fact that the 120 kt speed over the fence incorporated
a generous margin for beginners and also to the fact that I had
forgotten I was supposed to be doing my own throttle movements
and had, out of force of habit, called for "power off" instead of
doing so myself. On the spur of the moment, Dix suggested that
I make the landing a touch-and-go. All that was required was a
positive grounding of the nosewheel by a push forward on the
control column and the opening-up of the throttles while Dix
retracted the flaps to the 30 deg position.
Acceleration response was almost immediate and before I had
time to get my hand away from the wide-open throttles I was
again pointing almost straight upwards in an endeavour to stop
the speed building up beyond the 180 kt limitation. I was still
having trouble in locating the flap-position indicators, possibly
due to the fact that each of the four large double-slotted flaps has
a separate indicator needle. These are mounted on two gauges
on the pilot's instrument panel and from habit I was looking for
one large gauge on the co-pilot's side of the aircraft.
The next circuit was a much tighter and neater affair and
unremarkable except that Dix showed me by how much I ought
to trim out the slight nose-down effect which appears upon initially
lowering the flap. For literally second upon second, he made
the trim wheel fly around (I personally thought that the electric
motor had run wild); but, at the end of it all, though the trim
indicator was far removed from where I had had it for my first
landing, I did not notice any appreciable difference in the handling
of the elevator control and my final landing was done with some
real measure of confidence, in spite of the fact that I had only been
in the aircraft some 90 minutes and had had no proper dual and
still had no accurate notion about the correct speed and approach
pattern drills. Incidentally, it is worth notice that, with no magnetos
to check, no propeller-pitch settings to bother about, no cowlflaps,
no intercoolers, no oil-cooler flaps, no radiator settings,
the field-approach check-list is reduced to almost nothing.
On this our final landing, Dix showed me how to unload the
wing by raising all the spoilers to their maximum immediately on
touch-down. After this manoeuvre, positive nosewheel steering
and brake application are available. Whether one can land with the
spoilers full up I did not check, but I believe that the effect upon
stalling speeds is less than 5 kt. In the landing attitude these
spoilers, when used fully, do exert some pitch-down attitude
necessary for immediate effective braking.
At this weight, now only about 107,0001b, the aircraft used very
little runway in spite of the fact that there is no reverse-thrust
mechanism fitted to the Dash Eighty. Against this fact, however,
it must be remembered that production 707-120 aircraft using
this same wing area will be cleared for landings up to 165,000 lb.
A general assessment is difficult to arrive at. I suppose that my
dominant impression is that the aircraft, as I flew it, was almost
incredibly simple to manipulate and easy to fly. Yet it is as
powerful as it is docile. I believe that Boeing estimate that the
cost of the Dash Eighty prototype has been about $16 million
(nearly £5fm) of their own money, and I think that the manner
in which they allowed a non-jet pilot to throw it about and to
handle it close to the ground is perhaps a better indication of its
qualities than words can express. Some 50 "unfamiliar" pilots
have done as much, or more. These facts speak for themselves.
The next morning was taken up discussing with Ray Chamberlain
and Mr. Downey the final engineering details of the control
system. Jack Steiner later joined in the conversation and a discussion
developed about the need for greater rudder throw and/or
aileron drag effect in the low-speed (0 to 60 kt) case as applicable
to icy runways. I was favouring the addition of a booster rudder
in order to obtain some positive ground control. In this respect,
the aircraft is somewhat similar to the Bristol Britannia. The
situation may resolve itself when engines of greater power, such
as the J75 or Conway are fitted; in these cases, the rudder boost
may become a requirement in order to meet the one-engine-out
case on take-off. I also made the point that the present method
of locking and unlocking the parking brake required an unnecessary
shifting of the feet to the very top of the foot-brake pedals
in order to supply the strong physical forces required.
After lunch (during which the table-cloth got covered with
graphs of CLmax lines and Mach numbers) I continued with Ray
Chamberlain and others the discussion of details such as fuel-dump
procedures, fuel contents gauges, ground clearance, relighting
altitudes, holding-pattern heights, gust locks, fuel heating, vertical
loads, gust criteria speeds, and so forth. I was then handed over to
Mr. Dudley Nichols, and others whose names now escape me, in
order to examine the structural details of the KC-135 now being
built on the production lines. I was able to satisfy myself about
various details of the multi-path constructional system and the
machining of the integral wing fuel tank units. It was interesting
to observe that, apart from the fore-and-aft shear web, fitted with
spar caps, there is no main wing spar. A number of spanwise
stringers take their place in carrying the primary bending loads.
These and the very thick external skin carry about 75 per cent of
the stresses.
I had queried the position which would arise relative to the bag
tanks in the central wing area in the event of a wheels-up landing.
After examining the immensely strong keel beam and after noting
how much solid protection was given by the gear itself in the up
position, I was almost convinced that, short of a catastrophic
arrival, the centre-wing tanks would never be ruptured by any
wheels-up landing. I also examined the main gear trunnion. This
is placed aft of the rear shear web and is not connected with it.
An auxiliary box unit with a form of fusible link is the only solid
connection between the rear shear web, which is part of the outer
casing of the wing tank, and the main gear attachments. Thus
there seems to be little risk of the gear ever pushing its way
through into the fuel tanks; instead, if treated badly, it will break
off and disappear aft. Incidentally, this gear folds up into a very
compact space sandwiched between the massive keel beam and
the strong box section of the lower floor level.
Boeing engineering has always been on the massive scale and
these aircraft indicate a continuation of this policy. There are
many indications of great structural strength.
Another query of mine was to express concern that, in the event
of a wheels-up landing, the pods carrying the engines would get
mixed up with the fuel tanks. This subject has received a considerable
study and Boeing have been able to profit from the experience
of their military aircraft. A workable solution has emerged
which has, I understand, proved itself in operation. Again fusible
links are employed.
One ingenious feature of the aircraft is the arrangement whereby,
when the cabin pressure falls below certain safety limits, the
oxygen system available to both passengers and crew is automatically
put into operation.
On Friday the 13th Ray Chamberlain picked me up as usual
outside my hotel at 8.30 a.m. and, after clearing a few matters,
he handed me over to Mr. W. Cook, engineer-aerodynamicist,
who showed me around Boeing's vast 54,000 h.p. wind tunnel.
This, it is claimed, is the largest privately owned wind tunnel in
existence and it operates up to transonic speeds with models of
10ft wing span. Boeing stress the importance of the facility,
which has enabled them to evaluate about 150 different wing
shapes for their big jet aircraft. I observed, from one of the wall
charts, that approximately 21,000 hours of test tunnel work had
gone into their four major jets, the B-47 and B-52 having each
required nearly 8,000 hours and the K-135 and the 707 absorbed
the remainder.
Later we visited the plant where research was in progress
designed to solve the noise-level problem. Here Boeing are pooling
their experience with Rolls-Royce, though both concerns are
carrying out independent programmes. In order to speed their
work Boeing have simulated a jet orifice which realistically produces
the required airflow, temperature, and noise-level, and I
saw the various silencing attachments which had already been
tested. With one such attachment, noise level had been reduced
by as much as 40 decibels, but only at a considerable sacrifice to
speed and manufacturing simplicity. Boeing have specified that
the silencer they will ultimately fit will result in less than 2 per
cent loss of thrust, and a compromise solution between engine
thrust and maximum silencing is inevitable. To date, a loss of
15db can be achieved without overstepping the desired criteria.
Those at work on this programme paid tribute to Mr. Greatrex
of Rolls-Royce, whose nozzle is the basis of several successful
experiments.
It is interesting to note that the Rolls-Royce Conway operates
normally at about 6db less than the J75. Since, for the same
thrust, it weighs about 1,500 pounds less per engine, the case for
the Conway is a strong one. I also understand that the Bristol
Olympus still further reduces this weight and is capable of
similar amounts of thrust without noticeable increases in fuel
consumption. Boeing are fully aware that, apart from the serious
social problem of high noise-levels, there is an equally serious
structural problem. At a considerable weight sacrifice they have
thickened-up various flap and aileron sections in places where
the metals are subjected to possibly dangerous noise-level effects.
The rest of the morning was taken up with various aerodynamic
discussions regarding the control problems of high-speed aircraft.
The placing of the spoilers so that they produce neither
severe buffeting, nor changes in pitch, nor noticeable increases
in stall speeds, is a classic example of what can be achieved by a
comprehensive wind-tunnel test programme. The reversal of
aileron effect at high speed is another such example.
Out for lunch, I took the opportunity to say goodbye to Mr.
W. E. Beall and to Jack Steiner and spent an interesting half hour
with the servicing department, who were examining the wreckage
of the Northwest Stratocruiser which had just been raised from
the sea-bed nearby. I also had an interesting discussion with
Mr. Ralph Bell, director of sales, who had, via I.F.A.L.P.A.,
sponsored my visit.
It was with real regret that I said goodbye to Ray Chamberlain,
who for three whole days had spared no pains to ensure that I
saw what I wanted and got the answers to the questions in my
mind. Apart from anything else, I would have got hopelessly
lost in this huge plant, which is almost a city in itself. I believe
that they employ about 9,000 engineers; and the goods they
produce, as we all know, are contributing much to the security
of the free world. I have no reason to doubt that the company's
new embarkation into the civil field will be attended by success.
They are making a most determined effort to stay in the civil
market and to get on top. With this determination behind them
and with their great military experience to back it up, it was
gratifying to me to note with what favour they regarded the
British jet engines. As has been announced, they are offering
their customers a free choice of British or American engines, and
they have now designated type numbers for the Rolls-Roycepowered
aircraft. Who will be the first to order these aircraft,
known as the 707-420 and 707-520, is anyone's guess, but that
orders will be obtained I have little doubt.
I had meant to take it easy on Saturday and get my notes
up-to-date in preparation for the session I had arranged with
Mr. Clarence N. Sayen, in Chicago, who, apart from being president
of A.L.P.A., is also president of I.F.A.L.P.A. However,
Bill Cook, who had previously shown me the wind tunnel and
the noise-abatement laboratory, offered to show me the rest of
Boeing's experimental test section. I gladly accepted this offer
as, apart from anything else, I wanted to have another look at the
prototype Dash Eighty. I had been so busy flying the aircraft
that I had no opportunity to examine its other features.
One point I was able to satisfy myself upon is that, although
the aircraft has a servo-tab control system, the controls can be
checked for full movement on the ground. This apparent contradiction
is due to the spring control. With no air loads to
centralize the control of the servo-tab surfaces, initial movement
of the control column moves the tab and further movement
acts upon the control surface itself. A subsequent movement
will then actuate the tab.
I also had a chance to make the proper examination of the
flight engineer's panel. Details of this are not important, since
in the production aircraft there has been considerable rearrangement
of instrumentation. However, I did note that the fuel diagram
layout is essentially simple and that the auxiliary internal
tip tanks and the centre wing area tanks operate in a manner
which will not result in the aircraft being starved of fuel due to
lack of watchfulness on the part of the flight engineer. I was
also able to note that the use of direct A.C. power, generated via
Sundstrand drives, has eliminated much of the complicated conversion
of power which normally has to be accomplished. It
is worth noting that these A.C. drives are protected against
failure by malfunction indicators, overhead indicators and throw out
clutches, and by being given their own separate oil systems. I
was also delighted to see that only the day before the Dash
Eighty had been fitted up with Atkins collision-warning lights
on both upper and lower lobes.
After leaving the aircraft, we toured acres of experimental and
test departments. In these test laboratories, almost every conceivable
aerodynamic condition can be simulated. A list of the
laboratories would be over a page long. The importance of this
is the understanding of the Boeing philosophy that a $5 million
aircraft is only as strong as its weakest link. Thus, almost every
component part which comes into the plant is subsequently
re-tested in the company's own laboratories. These tests involve
the use of cold chambers, heat chambers, salt-spray chambers
sunshine and rain chambers, and even chambers in which a
highly combustible mixture of butane and air is held under
pressure while parts are operated under working conditions at
varying temperatures.
I also learned of the static tests which are a military requirement.
One military model at some time early in the production
line is virtually pounded to total destruction by the application of
abnormal stresses. Another interesting section was one in which
the sound level of 180db could be produced. With an eye to the
future so-called heat barrier, many of the latest test sections
were capable of producing very rapid rises in temperature. In
the course of this tour of inspection, I also saw the vast water-test
tank.
For those unfamiliar with the specifications of the 707, I feel
that in justice to its advanced design I must mention, in conclusion,
some of the features which appealed to me. These are:—
Airborne radar; SEL CAL; Skydrol 500 hydraulic system (with all
electrical wiring made out of Skydrol-resistant materials); anti-skid
brakes; isolated power shields; isolated radio compartment; thermal
(second spool) engine and wing anti-icing; electrical tail unit anti-icing;
emergency air brakes; free-fall emergency gear; indication of engine
reverse to each engine; high gust-criteria speeds (Vb 230 kt, Ve 350 kt);
circuit-breaker within reach of pilots; separate hydraulic motors for
inboard and outboard flaps; total absence of gust locks; lateral control
available with one flap section asymmetrical; automatic wheel-braking
during retraction; dual gyrosyn compass systems; dual V.H.F., V.O.R.,
A.D.F., HZ-1, etc.; inspection panels to all wheels when down; static
thrust indicators; inspection panels to cargo compartments; dual cables
to all controls; hydraulic system limited to 3,000 lb/sq in; Nesa
windows; underwing refuelling; rubeless tyres; two fuel booster pumps
per engine on separate circuits; Freon fire extinguishing agent; emergency
electric flap actuation; separate indicators to each of the four main
flaps; flight engineer's panel within reach of pilots.
The only omissions of importance which occurred to me
were:—
Boosted rudder; central landing light; vibration indicators attached
to the engine mountings; firmer parking-brake lock; fuel heaters; larger
engine instruments; space for let-down chart; crews' toilet (with up to
147 passengers on board, this could be quite a problem); limited turning
circle; individual fresh air vents to crews' positions; hydraulic pumps
to all engines instead of inboard engines.
Considering the balance between these two lists, and considering
how essentially simple this aircraft is to operate and
fly, the conclusion remaining is that in the 707 Boeing have
launched a product which will, I feel, make an impact upon the
industry such as no aircraft has made since the DC-3 twenty
years ago.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

ALLEGHENY AIRLINES FLIGHT 305 CONVAIR 340/440... N3414

Allegheny Airlines Flight 305 Crash at Capital City Airport, New Cumberland, Pa. November 29, 1969.



A friend of mine gave me copies of the photo’s of A Convair 340/440 from Allegheny Airlines. It over ran runway 26 at the Capitol City Airport, New Cumberland, Pa. On November 29, 1966.

The Convair was operating as flight 305 to Pittsburg, Pa. with a crew of 4 and 12 passengers. The aircraft was tail number N3414. Looking at the photographs you would never know that the aircraft was totally written off after the accident. There were no fatalities with this accident

According to the accident report, Flight 305 had a complete electrical failure due to an improperly installed heater. The pilot decided to abort the takeoff, but the prop reverseve did not work. The Convair overran the runway and collided with an approach light tower.




THE INVESTIGATION OF AN ACCIDENT INVOLVING AN ALLEGHENY AIRLINES CONVAIR 340 TYPE AIRCRAFT, N3414

DISCLOSED SEVERAL CONDITIONS THAT WE CONSIDER HAZARDOUS TO FLIGHT. A NEARLY TOTAL FAILURE OF THE AIRCRAFT ELECTRICAL SYSTEM OCCURRED DURING THE TAKEOFF RUN OF ALLEGHENY FLIGHT 305 AT HARRISBURG, PENNSYLVANIA, ON NOVEMBER 29,1966.

THE TAKEOFF WAS ABORTED AND WHEEL BREAKlNG APPLIED. THE ENGINE THROTTLES WERE PLACED IN THE REVERSE THRUST POSITION, BUT BECAUSE OF THE ELECTRICAL FAILURE THE PROPELLERS DID NOT MOVE TO A NEGATIVE PITCH WHICH RESULTED IN THE REAPPLICATION OF FORWARD THRUST. THE AIRCRAFT RAN OFF THE END OF THE RUNWAY AND STRUCK AN APPROACH LIGHT STANCHION WHICH TORE AWAY A SECTION OF THE LEFT WING. THE AIRCRAFT CAME TO REST
NEAR THE BOTTOM OF A HILL BEYOND THE END OF RUNWAY 26,

THE NOSE WHEEL COLLAPSED AND THE OUTBOARD FUEL TANK IN THE LEFT WINGWAS SLIGHTLY DAMAGED BUT RETAINED ITS FUEL.

Recommendation:
IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT ALL USERS OF CONVAIR 340,440 AND 580 MODELS BE ALERTED TO THIS VARIATION IN ELECTRICAL COCKPIT HEATERS, THAT THE TERMINALS BE PROMINENTLY IDENTIFIED AND MANUAL INSTRUCTIONS CITE THE DIFFERENT TERMINAL CONFIGURATIONS WITH APPROPRIATE INSTALIATION INSTRUCTIONS.

IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT THE CONVAIR 340,440 AND 580 AIRCRAFT HEATER CIRCUITS BE MODIFIED TO PROVIDE CIRCUIT PROTECTION THAT WILL OPEN UNDER THE MOST ADVERSE FAULT CONDITION BEFORE THE FEEDER LIMITER OPENS. DURING THE INVESTIGATION, TWO MAINTENANCE ITEMS WERE NOTED WHICH WE BELIEVE ARE WORTHY OF YOUR ATTENTION. WHILE EXAMINING THE AIRCRAFT, LOOSE NUTS, SCREWS, DRILL SHAVINGS AND TRASH WERE FOUND INSIDE OF THE CIRCUIT BREAKER PANEL COMPARTMENT. ALSO, IT WA3-REVEALED THAT NO FUNCTIONAL TESTS WERE PERFORMED ON THE HEATER AFTER ITS INSTALLATION BEFORE RELEASING THE AIRCRAFT FOR PASSENGER SERVICE.

ALLEGHENY AIRLINES HAS ISSUED FLIGHT CAMPAIGN DIRECTIVE NO. 88-103 WHICH REQUIRES THE FOLLOWING: 1. INSPECT ALL AIRCRAFT FOR PROPER HEATER INSTALLATION. REPLACE AND DESTROY ALL NONSTANDARD HEATERS.

2.. CHECK HEATER CIRCUIT BREAKERS FOR PROPER RATING.

3.. CHECK HEATER WIRING FOR CONFORMANCE TO HEATER WIRING DIAGRAMS.

4. WHENEVER A HEATER IS REPLACED, THE STRUT SWITCH IS TO BE
BYPASSED AND THE WIRING STUDS CHECKED FOR PROPER POLARIN. (A
FULL FUNCTIONAL CHECK CANNOT BE CONDUCTED DUE TO LACK OF RAM AIR). THE FEDERAL AVlATlON AGENCY IS IN THE PROCESS OF ISSUING AN ALERT BULLETIN WHICH INSTRUCTS FIELD INSPECTORS TO ALERT ALL OPERATORS OF CV-340,44OAND580 MODEL ARCRAFT TO THE POSSIBILITY OF IMPROPER HEATER INSTALLATION AND TO ASCERTAIN THAT MAINTENANCE MANUALS CONTAIN ADEQUATE INSTRUCTIONS CONCERNING HEATER REPLACEMENTS. MANUFACTURING DATA CALL FOR THE IDENTIFICATION OF POWER TERMINALS. AN FAA ENGINEERING REVIEW IS BEING MADE OF THE ELECTRICAL SYSTEM ON THESE AIRCRAFT TO DETERMINE THE NEED FOR MODIFICATION OF THE CIRCUIT PROTECTIVE DEVICES. TO PRECLUDE ACCUMULATION OF TRASH AND UNWANTED ITEMS IN THE CIRCUIT BREAKER PANEL COMPARTMENT, ALLEGHENY AIRLINES IS IN THE PROCESS OF ISSUING
AN INSPECTION CARD CALLING FOR VACUUMING THIS COMPARTMENT EACH 300 HOURS.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Flying the Northern Route In The DC-6B "Empress Of Toronto

Flying the Northern Route


This is a great story from the August 24, 1956 issue of Flight Magazine, dealing with a flight over the Northern Route. Beter known as "OVER THE TOP".

'TWENTY-FOUR hours in Vancouver is too short a time
This was my main reflection as Canadian Pacific's DC-6B
Empress of Toronto taxied out from Gate 6 and across the
apron. Ahead of us was the novel prospect of a polar-route
flight to Europe, while behind me was a honeymoon couple and
the memory of a day-short glimpse of Canada's sparkling west
coast.
I had arrived in Vancouver the previous morning by T.C.A.
Viscount from Edmonton, which may not have been the most
picturesque way to cross the Rockies, but was certainly the fastest
and most comfortable. Much of that day I had spent at the
airport, soon absorbing its unique atmosphere of expanding and
varied activity. I had watched DC-3s, Cansos and Convairs
leaving for places with names such as Kitimat, Uranium City,
Yellowknife and Flin Flon; and I had sensed the airport's international
significance as a real cross-roads of Commonwealth
aviation.
Of the various operators and associated companies which
jostle each other for space on Vancouver's airport, Canadian
Pacific Air Lines are the largest. The airline's headquarters and
main base are here, occupying some 300,000 sq ft. Prior to the
introduction of the Vancouver-Amsterdam service, GP.A.L.'s
trans-Pacific route from Sydney via Auckland, Fiji and Hawaii
was well established, and part of the popularity of the northern
route has been due to the fact that it completes a fast and convenient
network linking Australia, New Zealand and Canada with
Europe and the United Kingdom. A much publicized if dubious
distinction for passengers on this route is their ability to cross
the Equator, the International Date Line and the Arctic Circle
on one and the same service, and within four days. The company's
other main inter-continental service, intersecting this
route at Vancouver, is from Hong Kong and Tokyo to Mexico
City, Lima and Buenos Aires.
My first contact with the direct planning of our flight from
Vancouver to Amsterdam was at 11.30 on the morning of the
flight, two hours before take-off, when I joined the crew for their
detailed met. briefing. The assembling of weather information
for the flight had begun much earlier, however—at about 2 a.m.
—when special upper-air charts had been prepared in the airport's
met. section. The C.P.A.L. flight dispatcher had checked
with met. a few hours .'ater, and had prepared provisional routings
in the form of a pre-plan; using the forecast wind-components
at various altitudes he had calculated times and fuel
consumptions at various engine powers. From the pre-plan, the
captain had obtained a general picture of the probable effect of
weather conditions on the flight, before discussing the later
weather information at the 11.30 briefing.
A first look at the charts indicated some doubt that we would
be able to reach Sondrestrom Fiord, Greenland (the only
normally scheduled stop between Vancouver and Amsterdam) in
one hop. Although there would be tailwinds in the early part of
the flight, followed by southerly crosswinds, critical easterly headwinds
in the later section were forecast.
After a half-hour session with the met. man, during which the
various alternative routes were discussed, the crew returned to
the dispatch office at C.P.A.L. headquarters for detailed flight
planning. The range and fuel consumption for given headwind
components were noted and related to the forecast winds, the
effect of cruising altitude was considered, and meanwhile an
accurate check of freight, baggage and passenger weights was
being made to determine the find permissible fuel toad.

The captain of the aircraft on this trip was to be Capt. Ralph
B. Leslie who, just one year earlier, had flown the inaugural service
of this same route. Previously chief pilot of the Sydney-
Armsterdam sector, Capt. Leslie had also been responsible tor
much of the preliminary flying and planning in connection with
the opening of the new route. First officer was Ted Randall, one
of a C.P.A.L. family (his father and brother are also pilots) who—
despite the earnest efforts of the airline's publicity departmenthad
never yet flown all three together in the same crew.

Listed as second officer on the crew list was Capt. Bill Roxborough,
a check pilot who was making a familiarization flight on the
northern route for the first time. Completing the flight
crew—and doing most of the work in the flight-planning phase—
were the two navigators, Bill Douthwahe and Bill McLean.

The final permissible fuel figure was 31,800 lb, 400 lb more
than had initially been estimated, and Capt. Leslie decided to
flight-plan to Sondrestrom direct, with Frobisher as alternate.
One of two power techniques could be used: long-range
economical cruise (normally used on flights of more than 12
hours' duration); or combination power, which meant beginning
the flight at 1,240 h.p. and cutting down to 1,100 h.p. after four
hours' flying. The distance to Sondrestrom was some 2,700 miles.

It was decided to employ combination power. An easterly
leg was to be flown across the Rockies to East Princeton, after
which we would set course—the Great Circle course^—direct for
Sondrestrom, which would take us north of Edmonton. The leg
to Sondrestrom, it was finally calculated, would take 10 hr 37 min.
From Capt. Leslie I heard brief details of the special techniques
used on the northern route. The basic navigational problems,
he explained, were caused by the unreliable magnetic area in
the region of the North Magnetic Pole (a region extending to a
radius of over 1,000 miles); and in the convergence of the meridians
towards the Pole in the high latitudes. Ordinary magnetic
compasses and conventional map projections are of little use in
flying accurate long-range routes in these areas.

The answer to these problems had been found in the use of a
directional gyro with a very small rate of random drift, together
with the adoption of the Greenwich Grid chart system (in which
headings given in grid degrees remain constant throughout a
Great Circle route). Canadian Pacific, in common with S.A.S.,
the other northern-route operator, use the Bendix polar-path
gyro, which is fitted with a high-latitude t»mpensator.
Having filed the flight plan with the flight dispatcher, we
moved back across to the terminal block, where I left the crew
to complete their pre-flight formalities, and went to join the other
passengers. For many of these Vancouver was simply a nightstop
where they had landed the previous midnight, having
boarded the Empress of Toronto at Auckland just three days
earlier.
A fair number were starting their journey at Vancouver, however,
and these were liberally equipped with eager friends and
relatives. There was obviously still some novelty in flying the
so-called polar route to Europe—at least for passengers and
friends, if not for the crew.
We jostled through the crowd at Gate 6 and boarded the aircraft.
The popularity of this service was clearly no myth; 55
out of the 56 seats were filled. Scheduled take-off time was
1.30 p.m., but it was 1.45 before we began to taxi out, and two
o'clock when the Pratt and Whitneys were opened up for the
take-off run.
We gained height for the easterly leg across the Rockies in a
climbing circle out over the bay. This gave us a fresh view of
the wide and handsome picture that is Vancouver in its own
special setting of- mountains, coastline and the Pacific. Soon we
had crossed the coastal range and the North Okanagan belt and
were approaching the Rockies themselves.

Much of the grandeur of the Rockies scenery was obscured by
a mixture of cloud as we crossed the range at 17,000ft, but there
remained the striking sight of some of the highest peaks jutting
up above the main strato-cumulus layer. Steep islands with snowcovered
tops, and smaller lumps on which, it seemed, one might
quite easily stub one's toes.

Capt. Leslie spoke over the cabin-address system, apologizing
for the take-off delay, which had been caused by a malfunctioning
tachometer. He was sorry we could not see more of the Rockies;
they were very beautiful at this time of year. We would decrease
height to 11,000ft after passing Edmonton, he said, in order to take
advantage of more-favourable winds.

A cabin crew of three was carried by the Empress of Toronto.
There were two stewardesses, Patricia Stobart and Dolores
Jordan, and one steward, Leendert van Eijk, whose home is in
Amsterdam and who was previously with K.L.M. Soon it was
time for them to take orders for drinks before lunch, and to
indicate one of the differences between first-class and tourist
facilities by dispensing packages of books of matches, embossed
with the passenger's name in gold, to the fortunate firsts. One
mentally deducted their probable cost from the $204,70 difference
in fares on the Vancouver-Amsterdam trip . . .

The confusion of my stomach and mind on this trip began
between three and four o'clock Pacific Daylight Time (local time
in Vancouver), when a truly magnificent lunch was served. The
trick was to lose eight hours between Vancouver and Amsterdam,
keeping up a pretence of normal habits the while. To assist
matters, footrests and blankets were brought round at five o'clock,
just after lunch had ended, and most of the passengers obediently
took the hint and went to sleep.

There were, however, a number of exceptions. Across the
aisle, oblivious to the atmosphere of rest which pervaded the
first-class cabin, an English couple were earnestly discussing
serious topics. In the seats behind me was a young Canadian
• newly married couple, quietly listing their reasons why their
wedding reception was much better than others they had attended.
The girl, I remembered, had approached Jack Crump of C.P.A.L.,
with whom I had been talking before the flight, to thank him
for providing some information several months previously. The
young lady had at that time been preparing a College thesis on
airline economics—a most unlikely sort of thing to accompany
red hair and freckles—and since then she had graduated with a
First (hence the gratitude to Mr. Crump) and, the previous day,
had got married. The two were now on their way to a twomonths
honeymoon in Europe.

Across from these two, two separate young women were variously
occupied. The window-side one, having surely exhausted
her supply of films in recording every aspect of the pre-lunch
scenery, was churning out letter-cards at an amazing rate; while
her companion, blanketed and footrested, slept eloquently with
her mouth open.



Representative of another type of traveller was the middleaged
married couple who sat in front of the two tall and untidy
Britishers. For them, it seemed, the flight was complicated.
Well-equipped with personal impedimenta—much of it contained
in a Braniff Air Lines bag with a Japan Air Lines label—one or
the other was invariably moving, adjusting, re-arranging, or displacing
either themselves or their belongings in the intervals
between restless sleep. They were no beginners in the travel
game, though: the wife had declined the six-course Empress
lunch in favour of two dishes of what looked like asparagus stalks;
the husband had swiftly blocked up the ventilation slits with two
postcards from the flight pack which said "Welcome"; and at one
stage they had the seat-arm off and stacked in their ceaseless quest
for peace of mind.

We were now passing over the incredible, interminable lakespattered
expanse of the "Barren lands" of Canada's Northwest
Territories, having earlier crossed the flat sweep of the northern
prairies. The thousands of small, intricately jigsawed lakes which
stretched all around seemed to be patterned on a huge melonskin
surface. More lakes, and more barren marshland. Our
first sight of ice came at 6.20 Vancouver time, when some of the
lakes to the north were seen to be frozen. Then a hesitant
whitening appeared to starboard, too, with a blue-black edging
which traced the shores of the larger lakes. A little later, some
way above the sixtieth parallel, the scene below was completely
white.

This part of the route, approaching within 500 miles of the
magnetic pole, is especially susceptible to magnetic errors and
discrepancies. Compass errors of over 60 deg have been caused
by magnetic bodies on the ground, and the change in magnetic
variation over this sector can be from 20 deg west to 60 deg east.
Our aircraft was carrying two independent stand-by gyros in
addition to the Bendix polar-path unit. The Bendix and at least
one of the others were operating continuously throughout the
flight. McLean and Douthwaite were checking the aircraft heading
every half-hour by means of astro sights; and astro fixes of
OUT position were being taken every hour. Other navigational
facilities—such as Loran, D.R. and radio ranges—were, of course,
being used during the flight.

After the astro checks the gyros were not re-set, but their
individual rates of precession were noted and used in subsequent
adjustments to course. I was told that the precession rate of the
Bendix instrument was between one and two degrees per hour.
Following the direct Great Circle track to Sondrestrom, we
would by this time have been crossing the great Hudson Bay.
We had taken a more northerly course, however, in order to take
advantage of better winds, and so were continuing over land
towards the north of the bay. "How many times could you fit
the British Isles into Hudson Bay?" asked the blonde, tiredlooking
Englishwoman of her husband. It seemed an excellent
question.

Throughout the flight, regular information on the aircraft
position, course, alterations of flight plan, and other details were
being transmitted back to Vancouver, where our progress was
charted in the dispatch office. The flight dispatcher, who had
initiated the planning for our flight with his pre-plan early this
morning, would now be noting our change of course to the north.
At nine o'clock Vancouver time (midnight local time) Captain
Leslie announced that we were passing the northern tip of
Southampton Island, which straddles the top of Hudson Bay.
We were only 450 miles from the North Magnetic Pole, he
reported, and we should cross the Arctic Circle in about 25
minutes. We had then just passed over Roes Welcome Sound,
a large stretch of water between the mainland and Southampton
Island—and the first stretch of open water since leaving the
Pacific. To our left was Repulse Bay.

Empress of Toronto purred on, and below passed wide rolling
sandbanks of stratus, tinted a tepid pink by the northern sun,
now low on the port horizon. The English couple had begun
a new and strange occupation: the wife was filling in a diary, in
great day-to-day detail, beginning three weeks previously. I
could not avoid hearing her intense questioning of her husband.
"What time did you leave? . . . How did you come back? . . .";
and, for the fourth of June, a bizarre reply which sounded like
"Drove train back, drinking. . . ." That, one thought, must have
been quite a day.

At 9.22 Vancouver time (I had decided not to confuse my
watch until the last possible moment) came an electrifying
announcement. "For your information," Capt. Leslie crisply
reported, "we are now crossing the Arctic Circle, at 22 minutes
past midnight, local time." Almost with a click everyone's eyes
turned to look down at this important boundary but, alas, the
dotted line shown on all the maps just wasn't there. The passengers
on the starboard side gazed down on a sheet of stratus (which
looked just the same as the lower-latitude stuff), and those to port
had slightly better value with a glimpse of Foxe Basin (with ice),
the channel which separates Baffin Island from the Canadian
mainland. The occasion raised a ripple of excited chatter and
some smiling nods across the aisle. "What did you do in the
evening?" the Englishwoman asked. . . .

Normally, Capt. Leslie explained, the Circle would not be
crossed until about an hour and a half later. However, the more northerly
track made good on this occasion would also mean that
we would not see the sun set (and rise ten minutes later); instead,
it would be with us the whole way—which it was. Just to confuse
things further, the moon at that moment began to come up on
the starboard side. "Monday afternoon, cocktails. What did you
do on Tuesday? . . . "

The sight of the crags, mountains and cliffs of Baffin Island
was perhaps the most dramatic of the entire first leg. Topped
by a thick and creamy layer of real snow, in contrast to the icing
blobs seen floating in the grey washing-up water of Foxe Basin
the cliffs and valleys were given sharp contrast in the bright sunlight.
But beneath the illusion of whipped cream caused by the
light-and-shade combination on certain slopes lay the reality of
an extremely inhospitable type of country.

At about ten o'clock (this, being Vancouver time, was
equivalent to 2 a.m. at Sondrestrom) dinner was served, with the
magnificent Baffin Island scenery as an accompaniment. The
keen young short-time husband behind me had commented "Just
imagine living on one of those ice packs . . ." as we had
approached the coast; and an equally imaginative attitude was
shown by the tall Englishman as he firmly declined his champagne
in favour of a can of beer. Steward van Eijk took this very well,
and I managed not to choke over my filet mignon at the time.
To the north, the sun's bright light had softened to glow with a
subtle presence on a proud, silent range of peaks.

Discussing the flight with Capt. Leslie, I heard that we were
meeting headwinds of 35-40 kt from the top of a low-pressure
area. These regions were more normally encountered further
south. Our revised E.T.A. at the Greenland base was now
5.15 a.m. local time.

The sun's reflection could now be seen, metallic and cold, on
the pack and drift ice which fringed the coast of Baffin Island.
Consulted by the young Canadian couple as a relatively experienced
Arctic Circle flier (one previous trip to the Lofoten Islands
in a Coastal Command Neptune from Kinloss), I was able to
confirm that the iceberg-like objects jutting up from the coastal
ice were indeed icebergs. The wide background expanse of
coastal ice was traced with a fantastic pattern of random lines and
areas, presumably as a result of changing pressures and movements.
The general effect was something like a gigantic photomicrograph
of an etched metallic specimen—or like the patchwork pattern of English fields, entirely white fields withspidery outlines. As we headed out over the Davis Strait towardsGreenland, the view below became obscured by cotton-wool
ripples of cloud.

Accepting Captain Leslie's invitation to come up front, I found
him busily signing 55 Arctic Circle Club cards (denoting a successful
crossing of the Circle by each passenger) as I entered the
cockpit. Ted Randall was getting some rest, and Capt. Roxborough
was in the co-pilot's seat.

From the jump seat in the cockpit I watched the approach to
Greenland and Sondrestrom. Our indicated speed and altitude
were 200 kt and 11,000ft, the latter decreasing as directed by
Sondrestrom Control in stages. Our landfall was made at
Holsteinborg, where we turned on to a course on which we would
join the fiord of Sondrestrom.

Having intercepted one leg of the base's beacon, we turned
again, this time to fly in along the fiord itself—and into the
sun. This part of Greenland, at this time of year, was not snowcovered,
and presented a rocky brown face to the world. Ahead
of us, as we let down along the fiord, could be seen the airstrip
—some thirty miles distant. Although conditions were ideal, we
had requested a practice G.C.A. approach.

Soon we were literally in the slot, with our wing-tips below
the level of the cliff-face on either side, and the straight-in
approach was completed with a smooth touchdown at three
minutes past five in the morning, local time. The strangely
garbed natives who, exchanging weird and unfamiliar cries,
shuffled out to greet us, proved to be the U.S.A.F.
While the aircraft was being refuelled, passengers adjourned
to the waiting room to quench thirsts, to buy souvenirs, and to
post cards (featuring polar bears and Eskimos) to most ends of
the world. Quite a number of infants and small children were
travelling; they seemed to be among the more assured of the
passengers. Also bearing up very well under the circumstances
was a nervous young Englishman who was saying to Stewardess
Jordan, "Yes, I'm the one who's going home to get married—
can't you tell by the worried expression?"
Not waiting to ascertain Miss Jordan's reply, I left the lounge
and sampled the fresh air of Sondrestrom. This felt good. The
air temperature was a comfortable 64 deg F, and the time was
five-thirty in the morning—a unique and distinguished hour for
any journalist to be out and conscious. True, back in Vancouver
people were just turning in after a big time, or perhaps just
going on to Ted's place; while in London the morning rushhour
traffic jam at Vauxhall would be almost over: but these
were philosophical thought-toys for others to play with. Such
confusions were not for me. *

The various U.S.A.F. aircraft on the base, also, were not for
me—or so I was informed by the security-minded gentleman
with a gun in his belt. I concurred, noting only that the machines
comprised a gaggle of flat-footed wheel/ski Dakotas and a B-29.
Soon the other passengers were coaxed and coached back to our
Empress, where I rejoined them; we bade the natives farewell;
and taxied out to the runway. One hour at Sondrestrom, Canadian
Pacific Air Lines had said, and one hour they meant: we
took off at tb ree minutes past six. Out over the deep-green water
of the fiord, and then eastward
across the snow-covered inland region and the white-streaked
brown-and-grey coastal border. One of my last impressions of
Greenland was of the piercing blue of a number of lakes which
interrupted the vast white expanse—looking exactly like royalblue
ink blots soaking into a sheet of white blotting-paper. We
climbed to 17,000ft on course for Amsterdam, which we expected
to reach in 7 hr 15 min. This leg was of 2,200 miles.

From the gap in my notebook between leaving Greenland
and eating breakfast I deduce that, while Iceland and the North
Atlantic passed below, I slept. I woke to be greeted with the
news that, while my watch indicated 11.15 (Sondrestrom time),
local time was 3.15 in the afternoon. This was clearly as good
a time as any to have breakfast, for in two hours it would be
tea-time and we would be landing at Amsterdam. Any confusion
this may cause the reader is, I vouch, extremely small beer compared
with my own blank bewilderment at the time.

Fifteen minutes later the coast of Scotland came up, and we
passed over Prestwick and a range of grey, brown and purple
highlands. This countryside soon gave way to a pleasant green
patchwork of fields; looking down on it, we shared the blue
sky only with some tufts of fair-weather cumulus. We finished
breakfast, and it was ten to four. A brace of Hunters swam up to
taste the bright afternoon above the scattered clouds, and
thoroughly enjoyed themselves in a lively tail-chase to our right.
Our northern-route flight was drawing to a close. Confidently
we could now look in the eye the silent paper bags which had
faced us all the way from Canada's west coast. "After use, fold
toward you" they said. We were now reasonably sure the use
would not arise.

At 4.55 the stewardess came round with coats and hats and,
after a let-down through a dull and grey overcast over the flat
Dutch countryside, we landed at Schiphol at 5.15. Flying time
from Vancouver had totalled 18£ ht while the total elapsed time
was only one hour more. For those of us who were going on
to London, there remained a two-hour wait for the connecting
K.L.M. Convair service, and an hour-and-ten-minute flight.
Walking from the airport lounge at Schiphol, I almost collided
with a huge mass of Dutch roses, which turned out to be the
wedding-bound Englishman with a modest posy for his
betrothed. He still had on his worried look, and anxiously
sought my reassurance—readily given—concerning the probable
reaction of the loved one to his flowers.

We came in across die Great West Road and touched down
at London Airport at 8.20 p.m. From Vancouver the whole trip
had taken us 22 hr 15 min. From Auckland, passengers had
taken four days.

Airport formalities soon completed, the passengers boarded
the airline coach, or were met by friends with cars. The young
man about to marry, the tall and languid couple, the aviation
writer needing a shave. New Zealanders, Canadians, and Englishmen.
Already some had clearly slammed their minds shut
behind them on their Arctic Circle flight, and were hurrying
back into dieir familiar routine environment. Odiers, I knew,
had not closed the door on their thoughts, and were lagging
behind a little. Perhaps as far as Sondrestrom, where we had
seen a polar bear—if only the one painted on the control tower.
Perhaps even to Vancouver, where it was now five a.m. the
following day—but let us not start that son of time-wasting
nonsense again.

For us, as well as for die Canadian Pacific crews, die phrase
would now be "nordiern routine," and not northern route. We
had completed a flight which was at once uneventful and yet of
absorbing interest; relatively short in time and yet somehow
spanning a long sector of new and varied experience. In our
wallets were the crisp, shiny cards which proclaimed our membership
of die Arctic Circle Club (whatever that might imply);
while in my mind was the thought diat, even if 24 hours in
Vancouver was too short a time, one could easity return there
from London in an even briefer period.