When depressing the tops of the conventional rudder pedals, hydraulic pressure inflates a doughnut-shaped expander tube that has composition brake pads mounted on its outer perimeter. These press against the brake drum to slow the aircraft.
When retracted, the main-gear tires extend 11 inches below the nacelles. The wheels remain free to rotate so that normal braking is available during a gear-up landing (not that this would necessarily be needed).
Although you can crash a DC-3, it is said that you can never wear one out. Some have had so many parts replaced that the only original parts remaining are the registration plate and the airplane’s shadow.
An example of the DC-3’s adaptability occurred during the Summer of 1941. Another airplane operated by China National was on the ground at Suifu, China, when it was strafed by Japanese fighters. The right wing was destroyed, and there were more than 50 bullet holes in the rest of the airplane. The only available wing replacement came from a DC-2. Trouble is, this wing was 5 feet shorter and designed to carry much less weight than the wing of a DC-3.
The shorter wing was nevertheless installed. The “Dizzy Three” (also known as the DC-2½) looked lopsided but flew well despite all the aileron trim needed to keep the wings level.
The DC-3 is a very hydraulic airplane. In addition to hydraulic brakes and landing gear, hydraulic power also is used to operate the cowl flaps, autopilot, and—believe it or not—the windshield wipers.
The runup and preflight checks are conventional. After taxiing into position, lining up with the runway, and locking the tailwheel, the throttles are advanced to 25 inches of manifold pressure with the brakes locked. Each pilot then looks at the engine on his side to ensure that the cowlings are not shaking or vibrating. The brakes are then released and the throttles advanced for takeoff: 45.5 inches and 2,500 rpm.
The pilot must forcefully lower the nose to an approximately level attitude. During my first takeoff, this seemed excessive, and I had the distinct impression that I was going to shove the nose into the ground. It takes a whopping 12-degree attitude change to lift the tail 7 feet into the air and prevent the DC-3 from lifting off prematurely (below the 77-knot VMC). Slight back pressure is applied to the yoke at V1 and V2 (both of which are fixed at 84 knots), and the DC-3 becomes a graceful creature of the sky.
The takeoff from Santa Monica was particularly nostalgic, a flight across the pages of history. This was the runway from which I made my first takeoff in 1952. It also is where this 31,000-hour airplane was born and made its maiden flight more than 50 years ago. Santa Monica was the home of the Douglas Aircraft Company and is where almost all of its piston-powered airliners were built.
The first DC-3 flew in 1935 (also from Santa Monica) and was so successful that by 1938 it carried 95 percent of all airline traffic in the U.S. A year later, 90 percent of the world’s airline passengers flew on DC-3s, a record never likely to be broken.
Aarvik’s airplane first flew on April 30, 1943, and was delivered to the U.S. Army Air Force, which used it to drop paratroopers and tow large gliders. Following a post-war career with Eastern and then Mercer Airlines, it was purchased in 1977 by actor John Travolta who sold it in 1983 to the Aarviks.
Douglas built 10,926 DC-3s, most of which were Navy R4Ds and Army C-47s. Despite their official designations, pilots affectionately refer to the DC-3 as a Gooney Bird, a king-sized, seagull-like bird found on some South-Pacific atolls.
Each cowling has a ring of 16 large cowl flaps that surround the big radials. They are wide open for takeoff but create so much drag that they should be closed to the trail position shortly after setting climb power (39.5 inches and 2,300 rpm). This eliminates enough drag to noticeably improve engine-out climb performance. Partially closing the cowl flaps also reduces airframe buffeting.
Leaning the mixture is a breeze. Use the auto-rich position for takeoff and climb, and the auto-lean position for cruise. Be careful, however, when richening the mixtures prior to landing a Wright-powered DC-3. The controls work backwards so that pushing them forward results in a very quiet and underpowered airplane.
In flight, the DC-3 is heavy on the controls and sluggish in roll and pitch. This airplane is not flown with the fingertips. A new pilot quickly learns that the trim tabs are his best friends. The airplane is so sensitive to movement of the center of gravity that some veteran airline pilots claim that they could tell the weight of a stewardess walking toward the cockpit with coffee.
Flying the airplane can be a workout and gives me great respect for airline pilots of yore who had to battle weather and turbulence a hundred hours a month.
The DC-3 cruises at 157 knots on 50 percent power and 94 gph. Some claim with tongue in cheek that the -3 consumes as much oil as it does fuel.
One would expect that the big, high-lift wings of a DC-3 would have docile stall characteristics. Don’t bet on it. Stalls propagate from the wingtips and can result in strong rolling moments and substantial altitude loss. Recovery demands aggressive, albeit normal, manipulation of all primary flight controls.
On a nice day, either pilot can slide open his side window and rest his arm on the window sill as when driving a car. The shape of the front windshield creates a low-pressure zone near the side windows so that only a waft of air can be felt. Nor does the noise level increase with an open window. The din of a DC-3 assaults the ears equally well with the windows open or closed.
In those carefree days of ecological ignorance, airline pilots flying DC-3s used to revise their Jeppesen manuals while en route. Each obsolete page was lifted out of the binder on the pilot’s lap. The reduced pressure outside the open window would remove the chart from between the pilot’s fingertips and send it carelessly to oblivion. It is said that one could determine an airline’s route structure simply by following the trail of discarded charts.
When the outside air is cold, a conventional Janitrol heater provides warm cabin air. On some older models, heat is provided by a steam boiler in the right engine nacelle.
The DC-3 has a reputation for leaky windshields on rainy days. This prompted more than one pilot to add the following to en route position reports: “Light rain outside; heavy rain inside.”
Although one can make 3-point landings in a Gooney Bird, this is discouraged because dropping in such a heavy airplane can unduly strain the landing gear. Instead, wheel landings are the norm. Just pull off the power when about 10 feet above the ground. There is little or no tendency to drop as those big wings slice deeper into ground effect. There also is little tendency to bounce, which makes the DC-3 easier to land on the mains than many light airplanes.
Some experienced pilots claim that they can land shorter in a DC-3 with the tail up than down. The procedure involves simultaneously applying aggressive braking and enough back pressure on the yoke to prevent nosing over. According to Perry Shreffler, a retired captain who flew DC-3s for TWA, this combination of brake and elevator control is so effective that—with a little help from a headwind, a forward center of gravity, and a smidgeon of power—a competent pilot can come to a halt with the tail suspended in the air. (I did not have the courage to try this.)
A private-pilot’s certificate is the only prerequisite for a DC-3 type rating. Aarvik advised that the training required (including the check ride) varies from 3-4 hours (for an experienced taildragger pilot with round-engine time who wants a VFR-only type rating) to about 10 hours for a private pilot with limited experience who wants a type rating with instrument privileges. These hours can be reduced, however, if the student first obtains some instruction in a small taildragger.
For me, learning to fly a DC-3 was a dream come true—even if it did empty my wallet.
General aviation is replete with special-interest groups. There are pilots fascinated and involved with homebuilts, seaplanes, warbirds, and so forth. Only a few, however, are passionate about piston-powered airliners. One of t
hem is Jeffrey “Jeff” Whitesell. He is dedicated to saving an example of as many such aircraft as possible before the cutting torch renders them extinct. His goal is to establish a flying museum, sort of a Confederate Air Force for the airliners of yesteryear.
Whitesell was raised in aviation. In 1961, his father, Capt. William C. Whitesell, medically retired from Eastern Airlines. He purchased and transformed a New Jersey farm into the popular Flying W Ranch, a unique fly-in resort with a Western motif. The elder Whitesell also ran a charter operation that at different times used five Martin 202s and 404s (originally designated as 2-0-2s and 4-0-4s). The last of Whitesell’s Martins, N636X, had an executive interior that accommodated 16 passengers in luxurious comfort instead of 44 in airline configuration.
His customers included Muhammad Ali, Howard Cosell, Herman’s Hermits, the Beach Boys, and film crews for Monday Night Football. Martins were popular in those days; Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, and others owned them for personal transportation. This was the era in which young Whitesell’s fascination and love for piston airliners began to grow.
Fast-forward 30 years. This is when Jeff Whitesell, now a captain for Delta Airlines, was saddened by the disappearance of piston-powered airliners. With the encouragement of his wife, Ginger, he attempted to do something about it. Perhaps, he thought, he could find a Douglas DC-3 or DC-4 that he could restore and operate. But when two such aircraft appeared on the auction block in Billings, Montana, in 1994, they sold for more than he could afford.
Depressed by his lack of progress and while still in Billings, he discovered an ex-Eastern Airlines Martin 404 parked in a remote corner of the local airport. The airplane had been used as a crop duster and was in deplorable condition. He climbed aboard the ancient hulk knowing that his father had flown this airplane; his father had flown all of Eastern’s Martins. Jeff sat in the captain’s seat, the very seat that his father had known and worn so well.
An old-timer soon climbed aboard, flipped over a rusty 5-gallon bucket, and sat where the first-officer’s seat had been.
“Hey,” the old man said with an impish grin, “bucket seats.”
Both men were Martin aficionados and had little difficulty passing time by exchanging tales about these obsolescent aircraft. After awhile, the old man said, “Ya’ know, there’s another ol’ Martin down in Pueblo. Got a real fancy interior.”
Whitesell’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t happen to know if it’s 36X, would you?”
“Yup, that’s the one,” the old man said.
Whitesell arrived at the deserted, fog-shrouded ramp of Pueblo, Colorado’s Memorial Airport at midnight. He discovered to his dismay that the once-beautiful Martin was only a decrepit reminder of its bygone glory days. There was no way, he thought, that he could possibly entertain the notion of restoring this aircraft, but he did not want to leave until taking a nostalgic look inside.
The next day, the owner of N636X lowered the aft airstairs, and Whitesell discovered with delight that the interior was still in great shape. Contrary to his initial reaction, he struck a deal to buy the derelict for $60,000 and subsequently poured a mountain of money into the airplane to make it airworthy. N636X is now the flagship of Airliners of America, a non-profit organization in Camarillo, California that was founded by Whitesell. It is made up of volunteers dedicated to the preservation of this fine airplane.
Whitesell’s 404 is one of only three still flying in the United States. Two others earn their keep giving tourist rides over Angel Falls in Venezuela, and a few more are scattered around the world. This is all that remains of the 151 Martin 202s, 303s, and 404s that were built by the Glenn L. Martin Company between 1946 and 1953.
The Martin twins were designed as post-war replacements for the slower and smaller DC-3. The first model was the 202 Martinliner, which contained numerous innovations such as reversible-pitch propellers, underwing refueling points, and built-in airstairs.
The Martin 303 was a pressurized version of the 202, but only a few were built.
The 404 Skyliner was the final evolution of the Martin twins. It was an improved and somewhat larger version of its predecessors and was both pressurized and air-conditioned. It also had a combustion heater in each wing to provide wing and tail de-icing.
The Martin twins often are mistaken for the similar Convair 240, 340, and 440. (Some accused Convair of copying Martin’s design.) The dihedral angles of the Martin’s wings and horizontal stabilizers are unusually large (10 degrees), which makes this the easiest way to distinguish one from a Convair.
I had always wanted to fly a Martin 404 because of the affectionate manner in which TWA captains spoke about their experiences in the old airliner. This is when I was a newly hired first officer. I never thought that I would have such an opportunity until I heard that various levels of training—including type ratings—were available from Airliners of America. My decision to train for a rating was sealed when I learned that Whitesell’s airplane had been in service with TWA as Skyliner Peoria from 1952 to 1959. (TWA did not allow N636X to be painted in TWA livery, which is why it displays the colors of Pacific Airlines, another 404 operator.)
The ground school that I attended at Camarillo Airport was filled with 14 enthusiastic students. Four were previously qualified pilots attending for the purpose of recurrent training. Five were qualifying in the Martin for the first time. Four were volunteer maintenance workers auditing the course to learn more about the airplane. FAA representative Gary Hunt also was there to ensure that the course met all FAA requirements.
Hunt need not have been concerned. The course was thorough albeit fast-paced. John Deakin, a captain for Japan Airlines, taught the first day’s curriculum, and Whitesell taught the second. The intensity of the course reminded me of when I attended similar but longer initial-training courses at TWA. In those days, I was paid well to absorb the required knowledge. It somehow seemed incongruous (and perhaps a bit masochistic) that I was now paying to endure similar academic torture.
Pilots are attracted to the Martin 404 program for a number of reasons. Penny Wilson, a private pilot and co-pilot trainee, typified the feelings of many: “I am intrigued by the romance of that era and the sounds made by those big radial engines. They have so much more character and personality than screeching turbines. Best of all is associating with people who share the same enthusiasm.”
Kerry Bean, a Boeing 757/767 captain for a major airline was there to sample the experiences of his predecessors. Randy Dettmer, a general aviation pilot and architect, met Whitesell at an airshow and “got hooked by his infectious enthusiasm. I also flew in these old piston airliners when I was a kid. I want to know what it is like to fly one.”
After we completed ground school, Deakin taught us how to preflight the vintage airliner. Those wearing good clothes learned the hard way that the Martin spreads oil over itself almost as thoroughly as it consumes it. (Each engine has an oil capacity of 146 quarts.).
There are all sorts of access doors to open and a seemingly endless number of items to check. A thorough preflight inspection should take 30 minutes. If it takes less time, you’ve missed something.
The cockpit was designed before engineers knew much about ergonomics. Levers, controls, and instruments are distributed everywhere, seemingly without rhyme or reason. Some things simply went where they fit. The OFF position of a switch might be up, down, left, or right. But there is an ambiance to the Martin’s flight deck that is inexplicably alluring.
Bringing a Pratt & Whitney twin-row, 18-cylinder, 2,400-hp, R-2800 Double Wasp engine to life requires both hands. One is on the throttle and the other reaches for the overhead panel and manipulates a series of switches like Van Cliburn playing the piano. Sequencing the starter selector, starter, primer, and magnetos at different times and with different fingers takes practice.
A starter is selected and engaged until 9 or 12 blades of the three-
bladed propeller swing past any given point. This pre-start protocol proves that oil has not pooled in one of the bottom cylinders and formed a hydraulic lock. Attempting to start with this condition can result in engine damage such as a broken rod. The ignition is turned on and the primer is engaged, a procedure that is more art than science. If everything is done properly (and a silent prayer is answered), the prehistoric beast slowly awakens. It coughs, belches, and stirs to life one or two cylinders at a time, all the while spewing great clouds of exhaust (and, of course, oil).
Taxiing is conventional except that the nosewheel tiller operated by the captain’s left hand is more sensitive than most aircraft so equipped. The 404 has a maximum-allowable gross weight of 44,900 pounds, but N636X is limited to 41,500 because the engines’ anti-detonation-injection systems are deactivated. Empty weight for Whitesell’s airplane is 32,570 pounds, which results in a useful load of 8,930 pounds.
TWA’s runup checklist for the Martin 404 contained 44 items to be completed before takeoff, twice as many as was required on the DC-3. One important task is to operationally check and arm the autofeather system. This ensures that a propeller will automatically feather should the power of its engine drop below a specified level. This only occurs, however, if the power loss lasts for more than half-a-second. Otherwise, the propeller might feather at a time when the engine is only clearing its throat. If one propeller does feather automatically, the system is disabled so that the other propeller will not automatically feather for any reason.
After lining up with the runway, the throttles are advanced carefully so as not to exceed engine limits: 2700 rpm and 55 inches MAP. (Earplugs are recommended.) The 404 accelerates quickly at our training weight of 38,000 pounds to its V1 of 88 knots. Shortly thereafter, the nose is rotated gingerly so that the aircraft lifts off at its V2 of 100 knots. The gear is raised, and we accelerate at a shallow deck angle until reaching 120 knots. Power is reduced to 2,600 rpm and 48.5 inches (from 2,050 to 1,800 hp per engine).
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