Iron Modeler

Author: Iron Modeler

  • I wanna party like its…1980?

    Howdy!

    The hobby shop was sold about a month ago.  It is a good thing, we think–the new owner is local, he owns several other businesses, and he actually listens to what we tell him.  He has introduced (and reintroduced) several Radio Control products that this store hasn't seen in years, and he's got great ideas on how to build the business.  

    Along those lines, I wanted to revisit the selection of plastic models we carry.  We do well with armor–the local AMPS Chapter meets here every month–and we hold our own with cars.  Airplanes, on the other hand, are a mixed bag.  We try to get the latest and greatest into the store, which works well when we can meet online pricing.  On the other hand, staples–like P-40's, P-51's, Me-109's, Phantoms, etc.–tend to take a back seat.  

    In my efforts to try and have a little something for everyone, I actually ordered a high-low mix of popular subjects–one low-cost kit and one "Premium" kit.  Along those lines, one of the mainstays of the hobby throughout the years have been the old Monogram 1/48 scale kits.  We carry them–the P-51D, the P-40B, the Zero, etc.–but the prices, like the prices on pretty much everything, have ratcheted up to the point where those kits I used to buy as a kid for $1.98 now run close to $17-$18.  While I like the fact that they are nice kits, many of them are long in the tooth–their age is starting to show, with ill-fitting parts, flash, and poor (or non-existent) detail in the cockpit and gear wells.  What to do, what to do…

    Anyone who has been building model airplanes since the 1970's will recognize the name Otaki.  They produced a series of World War Two fighters in 1/48th scale that were, in a word, superb for the day–some of them are still superb to this day, to tell the truth.  So, the plan was this–whenever there was a choice between a 1950's-era Monogram kit and a 1970's-era Otaki kit, i would opt for the Otaki kit for the store shelves.

    Now, Otaki went under in the late 1970's/early 1980's, and the line had been picked up by Arii.  They have also been seen in AMT, Matchbox, and Airfix boxes.  They're still decent kits, but I had one problem–not one of the stateside distributors we deal with carries them.  Again, what to do…

    The answer came, in part, when we were looking to beef up and update our Gundam models.  The main U.S. distributor gets the tail end of the Japanese production run, so a lot of the more desirable Gundams don't reach us.  We were discussing this issue when the idea of buying direct from Japan came up.  Well, we started the process with a rather large online shop that many of you may have dealt with in the past.  We were instructed to place an initial order…

    Given the green light, I started to search for stuff we couldn't get anywhere else.  The first thought I had was to find those old Otaki kits, or die trying.  After a short while, I found these kits under the Micro Ace label–same Arii box art, they even carry the Arii nametag.  What astounded me was the price.  The pricing on these kits hasn't changed much since the last time I saw them sitting on the shelf at Warrick Custom Hobbies, which is a fair shade less than we can get the ancient Monogram kits for on a good day.  So, with that in mind, I placed the entire line on the order.  I mean, for the price, why not?  Granted, when they were under the Otaki badge they had a neat color plate and decals for two subjects, but I think they'll fill the bill nicely.

    One of the things that confounds me up here in the Greater Upper Midlands Co-Prosperity Sphere is that there are a good many modelers here, but few of them know anything outside their own personal comfort zone.  Introducing a line of kits that are foreign to them may prove troublesome.  So, in order to show people what these kits are like, I decided to put a few on display in the showcase.  I built a Hellcat a few years ago, ostensibly as the object of a stillborn model building class I wanted to host at the shop.  But I also remember one of their F4U-1 Corsair kits I had kicking around on top of the pile closest to the workbench.  I think I had it first, then gave it to my wife (who purchased a Verlinden resin set for the Tamiya kit and the Squadron vac canopies), who gave it back to me when I wasn't watching.  Rather than let it decompose into dust, I took it off the pile and started to build it.  It was much as I remembered from the example I built in 1981 or so–very basic, but convincing cockpit, anemic engine, good basic shape and proportions…

    Those last things–basic shape and proportion–are what I really grade a kit on.  I can add, change, or embellish details, but I don't like having to rework shape and dimensional issues.  So, with the kit in hand, I started to engineer how I was going to add the Verlinden parts to the kit.  After about an hour, I had the cockpit and engine constructed and ready to install.  A quick shot of paint, and some glue, and I had the fuselage zipped up.  As the model sits now, basic carcass construction is complete.  I need to add the horizontal tailplanes and landing gear, fill a few gaps,. sand, buff, and burnish, and add paint.  In the space of about two and a half hours, I have remembered why I enjoyed these kits back in the day.  Hopefully, I'll get a new audience to share that opinion.  Even out of the box, they build into quite nice models…

    I'll post photos of the completed model once I'm done.

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    Along with the Otaki Corsair, I came upon the 2014 Revell AG 1/72 F4U-1 kit.  While nowhere near as nice as their MiG-21 F-13, it builds up fairly well.  I don't usually do these airplanes in 1/72 scale, but since the kit comes with the same markings the Otaki kit will wear, I thought a nice Scale Display would be in order.  Photos once it is complete…

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    Along with the sale of the hobby shop, I have been brought out of my year-long "temporary retirement" from the world of avionics.  I'll be working from home most of the time, but I'll have to do a little traveling every now and then.  The job is the same–but different–than my last employment stop.  The basic work is similar, only some of the details and responsibilities have changed.  I'm honestly looking forward to the challenges this opportunity will offer.  For those of you who have been involved in aviation, I don't need to explain.  For those of you who have not worked in the field, there is no explanation that will adequately describe just how much it gets into your blood…

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    When I get some time, I feel a stash reduction is in order, and that right soon.  I've been meaning to do a bit of SIDNA pruning since this time last year, but I was kid of busy, what with the AMPS International Show and the IPMS/USA National Convention duties I signed up for.  As I get older, I realize that those kits bought with youthful enthusiasm and grand intent are not going to be built–or at least some of them won't.  So, better to find them new homes with folks that will do them justice rather than sit in our upstairs workshop and collect dust…

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    That's all I have for now.  Thanks for reading, and as always, be good to one another.  I bid you peace…

  • Another one of “those anniversaries”…

    24 April is another one of "those anniversaries" that are vivid in my memory.  I'll elaborate the "why" later, but first let's cover the "what"…

    In late 1979, the Ayatollahs came to power in Iran, sparking what was then called a "student uprising".  During that uprising, the Shah, a man put into power in the early 1950's by a U.S.-led coup, fled the country.  He was, during his reign, a tyrant–he would do his best to keep the common Iranian down while also doing his best to see that the rich Iranians got richer.  At the time he left the country, he was also ill–he was suffering from cancer, a malady that would take his life soon after.

    During all the demonstrations, the insurgents demonstrated outside the Embassies of the Western powers.  To this day, I can still vividly remember the chants, "Death to Carter, Death to the Shah!", referring, of course, to President Jimmy Carter and the now-deposed Shah.  At some point, the American embassy was stormed and the workers taken captive.  Ultimately, 52 Americans would be held for 444 days, gaining their release just after President Ronald Reagan was inaugurated in January 1981. 

    However, in 1980 President Carter wanted to do more than negotiate, and had formulated plans for a massive rescue mission.  That mission would be called Operation Eagle Claw.  It involved assets from all branches of the military–Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines.  It was a complicated plan, too:  An advance mission on 1 April transported one Air Force Combat Air Controller went into Iran and selected the first landing site, called Desert One.  He installed infrared landing lights and took soil samples–he reported back that the site was hard-packed sand.  Three weeks later, the surface had accumulated a layer of fine, powdery sand, unknown to mission planners.

    The mission as planned:  Three USAF EC-130E's (call signs Republic 4, 5, and 6) would carry the members of the Army's new elite Delta Force and some 6,000 gallons of jet fuel in collapsible bladders to refuel the Navy helicopters.  Three USAF MC-130E Combat Talon aircraft (call signs Dragon 1, 2, and 3) would carry logistical support equipment.  Eight RH-53D Sea Stallion helicopters from the aircraft carrier USS Nimitz (call signs Bluebeard 1 through 8, located in the Persian Gulf, would rendezvous with the C-130's at Desert One.  Once at Desert One, the Delta Force would embark on the RH-53's and be flown to another remote landing site, Desert Two.  There they would spend the next day.  Come nightfall, Delta Force would drive into Tehran in trucks brought to Desert Two by CIA operatives.  The helicopters would reposition to a nearby football stadium and wait.  Delta force would storm the Embassy and any other holding sites, neutralize the Iranian guards, and free the Americans.  Other members of the ground combat force would destroy power stations to keep the Iranians pinned down.  USAF AC-130 gunships would be orbiting over the area to add close air support, and Army Rangers were to neutralize and capture the nearby Manzariyeh Air Base, where USAF C-141 Starlifters would land.  The ground forces and freed hostages would rendezvous with the helicopters and the football stadium and would be flown to the air base.  They would then board the C-141's and be flown to safety.

    That's the mission in theory.  Here's how reality played out…

    24 April 1980:  All the aircraft departed from their bases as scheduled.  The MC-130s and EC-130s were able to locate Desert One and land–Dragon 1 was the first in, and sustained damage upon landing.  It was able to offload personnel and equipment and was able to fly out, but would require extensive maintenance afterwards to repair the damage. 

    Meanwhile, the RH-53s began to have problems.  Bluebeard 6 had to land in the desert because the crew were getting a warning light that pointed to a cracked rotor blade.  The crew abandoned the aircraft and were recovered by Bluebeard 8.  The rest of the helicopter group was overcome by a haboob, a sudden and severe dust storm frequent to the region.  Bluebeard 5 returned to Nimitz when its flight instruments malfunctioned.  The remaining helicopters arrived at Desert One.  When Bluebeard 2, the last to arrive, landed, they were a full 90 minutes behind schedule.  To make matters worse, Bluebeard 2 had a malfunctioning hydraulic system, leaving only a single system to operate the aircraft.

    In the meantime, Army Rangers intercepted and destroyed a truck smuggling gasoline.  This was both bad and good:  the fires lit up the night, but also provided a visual beacon for the helicopter force.  Later, a bus carrying some 44 civilians was stopped and the passengers detained on Republic 3.

    With all the aircraft that would arrive on scene, COL Charlie Beckwith (commander of Delta Force) was at a dilemma:  Mission plans clearly stated that if there were any fewer than six helicopters, the mission was to be aborted.  The Navy flight crews, all too well aware of what a total loss of hydraulic pressure would do to a Sea Stallion, decided that Bluebeard 2 was to be shut down and taken off the mission.  This left five helicopters to continue, one less than the plan called for.  Discussions between commanders on scene and in Washington led to the decision to abort the mission.  Bluebeard 2 was to be left, and the aircraft were to return to base.  The civilians from the bus were released, but the bus was disabled.

    And this wasn't the bad news.

    The helicopters needed to be refueled from the EC-130's.  Republic 4 was also low on fuel, and had already transferred its bladder fuel to the helicopters.  It was now at a point where it needed to depart immediately if it had any hope of getting home.  In order to do so, the aircraft needed to be re-arranged.  Since the ground had that ankle-deep layer of powder, the easiest way to move the helicopters was to air taxi them.  Bluebeard 3 had to be moved in order to get Republic 4 and Bluebeard 4 repositioned–Republic 4 to depart and Bluebeard 4 to refuel from another EC-130.  A USAF Combat Air Controller began to marshal Bluebeard 3 away from Republic 4, but as the helicopter became airborne it caused a huge dust cloud to form and also caused the CAC to start to move away from the helicopter.  Being the helicopter pilot's only visual reference, he tried to maintain a constant distance from the CAC, not knowing that the CAC was being blown over by the rotor wash.  Shortly, the main rotor of Bluebeard 3 contacted the tail surfaces of Republic 4.  Both aircraft caught fire.  Republic 4 still had residual fuel in the bladder tanks.  The flames spread quickly.  Eight American servicemen were killed that night on the Iranian desert, five airman from Republic 4 and three Marines from Bluebeard 3.  Along with the loss of life, we lost many classified documents on the RH-53s that were abandoned when all hell broke loose.

    It was a debacle.  There is no other word for it.

    So, why do I recall the events to this day?  One, I had the day off from school–it was a teacher workday, I think–and remember waking up to the news.  As a kid of 16, I couldn't understand how my country could fail this miserably.  I was old enough to recall the Vietnam War, and the trials and tribulations attached to it.  I thought that was bad enough, but now here we were again, embarrassed in the eyes of the whole world.

    As I got older and started to become more worldly (in other words, I not only got older, I got wiser as well), I came to learn that there were outside circumstances that were attached to our involvement in Iran.  The moral of the story is as Jack Ryan told Captain Ramius in "The Hunt for Red October": "It is good to know a little about one's adversary, don't you think?"

    In the years following Eagle Claw, the military revised procedures for their anti-terrorist and Special Forces.  Procedures were put into place for better inter-service cooperation and better intra-branch cooperation.  Better equipment was devised and purchased.  Better training was implemented.  The culmination of all this was evident during Operation Desert Storm…

    If you want some homework, I'd suggest trying to find a copy of Steven Kinzer's "All The Shah's Men".  The book covers the ouster of Mohammed Mossadegh and the return of the Shah to power.  Also, The Atlantic published a good article on Operation Eagle Claw.  Educate yourself on the history of our world, you might be surprised what you learn.

    Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another.  I bid you Peace…

     

     

  • Karma Five-Two

    In addition to being Tax Day here in the U.S., 15 April is also the anniversary of what is now being called "The first shot in the International War on Terror."  I'm speaking, of course, of the 1986 bombing raid on Libya, otherwise known as Operation El Dorado Canyon.

    For those who don't recall life before MTV, a PC in every home, and satellite television, here's a capsule history for you to chew on.  In the late 1970's and early 1980's, Libya's leader, Muammar Al-Gadhafi, started expressing anti-Western and anti-American sentiments to the world.  One of the things he did was to declare the entire Gulf of Sidra as Libyan territory, while the rest of the world respected the international standard of 12 nautical miles as the limit to territorial waters.  The United States Navy would conduct operations there, and in 1981 two Libyan SU-22 Fitters tired to intercept two F-14A Tomcats of VF-41.  They came out on the short end of the deal; the Tomcats handily dispatched both Libyan aircraft.

    Tensions continued to escalate through the early 1980's.  In 1986, the LaBelle discotheque was bombed; three persons were killed (two of them American) and a few hundred were injured.  Investigations pointed to the Libyans as the driving force behind the bombings, so President Ronald Reagan gave the approval to bomb targets inside Libya.

    The original raid was planned to use only U.S. Navy assets, but the target list expanded quickly and by the time it was close to being finalized, it was realized that there weren't enough Naval aviation assets to do the job.  So, the operation was expanded to include F-111F's from the 48 Tactical Fighter Wing based at RAF Lakenheath and several of the then-new EF-111A Raven Electronic Warfare aircraft with the 20TFW based at RAF Upper Heyford. 

    In order to make the shortest flights possible, the Aardvarks and Ravens would have to fly through French, Spanish, and Italian airspace.  All three countries refused to allow the overflights, so the mission was planned to fly around the Iberian peninsula and along the coast of North Africa before striking their targets.  The longer flight path would also require a tremendous amount of tanker support, which added more complexity to an already complex mission.  In late 1985 Operation Ghost Rider, a simulated attack against targets in Canada, was flown by F-111E's from the 20TFW to prove the various aspects of such a long mission; the lessons learned were passed along to the Lakenheath group.  (Trivia:  Libya could have been the combat debut of the F-117, but the plans were scotched because the Pentagon didn't want to let the Stealth cat out of the bag should something bad happen…the Wobbly Goblin's combat initiation would have to wait for Operation Just Cause, the invasion of Panama.)

    As the various groups of aircraft flew in to their target areas, the Libyans became aware that something was up (it is also widely believed that they were tipped off), and some of the anti-aircraft batteries started to return fire.  Reports vary, but as the Karma cell of F-111F's exited the target area, the aircraft with the call sign Karma 52 (F-111F S/N 70-2389) was lost.  It was not confirmed until all of the aircraft marshaled at their assigned tanker, but nothing changed–Karma 52 was missing.  The crew, Captains Fernando Ribas-Dominicci and Paul Lorance, were listed killed in action during the raid.  Stories have varied over the years, but it is fairly certain that the airplane was hit by AAA and the crew ejected.  Due to the altitude, it is presumed that the escape module parachutes did not fully deploy and the capsule hit the water hard.

    After denying that they held the remains of the crew, the body of Ribas-Dominicci (initially identified as those of Captain Lorence) was returned to the family via the Vatican in 1988.  An autopsy performed showed that Ribas-Dominicci had minor injuries and that the cause of death was drowning.  The remains of Captain Lorence are still unaccounted for.

    So, why the interest in this one-time, one-night raid?  Well, in short because it is still such a mystery.  What actually happened to Karma 52?  Did they indeed get shot down, or did the airplane somehow fail?  Did the crew eject?  If so, did the capsule fill with water and sink, taking Captain Lorence to a watery grave?  Was the crew unconscious after the escape module landed?  Did Captain Ribas-Dominicci exit the capsule and then drown?  And, finally, what happened to Captain Lorence?  Stories have circulated that the Libyans have both pilots' flight suits and helmets, plus parts from the aircraft, in Gadhafi's home in Tripoli.  Where are those artifacts now? Surely, somebody has the answers–but with the events in Libya over the past few years I fear that the answers–many of them, at least–have died with Col. Gadhafi and other members of his leadership council.

    Also, in my years in aviation, I have come to be acquainted with more members of the Aardvark community than any other.  My interest in the F-111 goes back to when I was a kid.  The airplane was just plan old neat to me–then and now.  The 'Vark is gone now, retired after Operation Desert Storm, but the stories of the F-111 and her crews live on.

    And so, every year on 15 April I stop and remember the loss of two Americans, crewmen on an F-111 flying a mission that, it was hoped, would stop Libya's terrorist activities.  Whether or not we accomplished that is up to history.  In any case, Gadhafi is gone now, Karma indeed caught up with him.

    As always, thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, and I bid you Peace.

  • 1984

    Greetings!

    Now, before you get all excited and start running about, I'm not referring to George Orwell's vision.  Rather, I'm looking back 30 years and remembering some of the things that made 1984 a sort of comeback year for me…

    For starters, I found myself unemployed and not in school for the first time in my life on New Year's Day in 1984.  I had taken my leave from the Harvard of the Sky–engineering physics and I didn't get along, especially when physics had backup on the beat-down in the form of Calculus 3.  Between those two courses, I had a dismal GPA for the Fall 1983 semester and decided that engineering as a career for me wasn't in the cards.  I went down to the AFROTC Detachment (I had an AFROTC Scholarship at the time) and spoke a bit with my advisor.  He and I talked for about an hour, and both came to the conclusion that all the summer terms in the world weren't going to suddenly make me a mathematical genius.  My math skills were pretty good, but not good enough.  So, I didn't register for spring semester and came home.

    Funny how things can happen–I went looking for a job on 2 January 1984 and was hired almost immediately as a parts driver for a local HVAC parts house.  After a week or so of that, one of their systems engineers found out that I wasn't just doing this because I didn't know any better, and I would sometimes be called in to watch how home and industrial HVAC systems are engineered–so many square feet of space called for so many tons of capacity, so many BTUs were required to heat X amount of space, etc.  It was all pretty neat stuff, and I appreciated all they were doing for me.  Between parts runs, I learned quite a bit–and was tempted to pursue a career in that.  But aviation, once it wiggles down into your blood, tends to have a strong pull…

    I worked there all summer.  One day I got a phone call from one of my advisors at Embry-Riddle, wanting to know what I was doing and what my plans were.  At the time, I was still trying to just chill out a bit and leave the stress and, well, disappointment of engineering behind me (and earn some coin, but that should be obvious).  I let them know what I was up to, and that I had several things banging around in my head, and that I'd let them know when the time came.  That time came in June–I took a Friday off work and drove back to Daytona Beach.  I met with some folks, and found out how easy it would be for me to come back–I never formally withdrew from the school, so I was still carried on their rolls.  I first visited my AFROTC friends.  We spent a few hours speaking with some of the other Department Chairmen, and after speaking with the man heading up the Avionics program, my mind was made up.  I would return in August.

    With my future now decided, I went back to work.  I don't say this to be self-congratulatory, but I was the hardest working parts driver/stock man/all around helper that location had.  I know this because the higher-ups told me so.  They were especially let down when I gave them my notice, but when I told them that my two choices were to learn–unofficially–from them, or go back to school and learn aviation electronics, I think it got them to understand.  I was told that if I needed summer work, they would be there.  So, I ended my employment with them in mid-August.

    Remember that 1984 was an Olympic Games year, too–back when Winter and Summer games were held in the same year, no less.  The Winter games were held in Sarajevo, Yugoslavia.  I paid little attention to them, because work and the time difference made keeping track of the events a bit difficult.  What saddens me know is to see what has become of the venues built for the Games–most of them are crumbling, the result of the unrest, fighting, and other issues between the ethnic factions that finally led to the break-up of Yugoslavia into its constituent Republics.  Sad…

    The Summer games, on the other hand, were different–they were held in Los Angeles in 1984.  The overshadowing news was that the Soviet Union, acting in response to the West's boycott of the 1908 Games, had decided to sit 1984 out.  They, along with the majority of Eastern Bloc countries, sat at home while the Games went on.  The reason I remember it so well was than coverage of most events came on right as I was getting back to the house after work, so I could pay attention to all of them.  It was the last Olympic Summer games that I really paid close attention to.  Since then, various reasons have kept me from watching…

    On the modeling front, I actually started to keep a log of kits I completed.  The first for 1984 was the ESCI 1/48 scale Fieseler Storch.  It was an easy build until I got to the part about sticking the wings to the greenhouse.  I used 5-minute epoxy, and got a fairly decent result–I amazed myself that I didn't wind up with epoxy all over everything! 

    I next turned my attention to a Tamiya 1/48 Brewster Buffalo.  It was probably the quickest "serious" model I had built to that point–everything just clicked together.  I was tempted by the early Navy scheme, but I settled on the Dutch scheme, because my metal finish techniques were sorely lacking and I didn't want to ruin the model.  My impressions of Tamiya airplane kits would be reinforced soon…

    Next on the hit parade was the Nichimo 1/48 scale Ki-43 Oscar.  If you read opinions on this kit, they're all almost universally positive.  And for good reason–the kit packs a lot of detail into a small airplane, the fit is superlative, and this all in a kit dating from the late 1970's.  I tried some weathering techniques on this one–I used a silver Tamiya paint marker to prime seams back then, and I would paint the seams and rub the excess paint off with a paper towel.  I reconed that if I added blotches of silver here and there, I could "chip" the Polly S paints I was using for the camouflage.  It worked out fairly well, I think, and I kept trying to expand my horizons from that model on to the next, and the next…

    This was also the summer when I attempted to build Monogram's 1/48 scale F-84F.  For a reason or reasons lost to history, I cannot recall why I never finished the model.  All I have from that model is the dolly and a few bits and pieces.  After that, I wound up building Monogram's 1/48 scale F-100D in Arkansas ANG colors.  I did that because, as I said before, my metal finishes at the time looked like dog poop…

    Last for the summer, I decided to refinish a Monogram 1/48 scale B-17G that I had built in the late 1970's, maybe 1979.  I had airbrushed it, but it was one of my first airbrushed models and looked the part.  There were visible seams and some other issues with the model, so I took it down from the shelf and started working on the bad areas.  Within a week, it was ready for paint again.  I had used a Microscale sheet to finish the F-100 and was suitably impressed–first time using them, you know.  So, I went in search of a sheet for the B-17.  I found one I liked (unit and aircraft are again lost to history–I didn't log how they were finished, just that I finished them) and set to work.  I used a combination of Polly S and Tamiya acrylics for the finish, and this one was the best, to that point, airbrushed finish I had ever laid down.  The model went back on the shelf, an old girl in a new dress.

    (That Tamiya Buffalo would also get a re-work in the early 1990's–which is how it still resides, hidden away in a box upstairs…)

    I returned to good old Humpty Diddle in August.  I had to register for classes.  I had remembered to change my major and catalog at the Registrar's office when I was there in June, so half my battle had been won.  Then I get to the registration lines.  I think it is a universal college policy that beginning of the semester registration is meant to be as huge a pain in the ass as possible to all involved.  See, during my engineering days, I had to re-take a few courses.  As far as the Aeronautical Studies/Aeronautics courses were concerned, I was through with all of my math classes by virture of my Calculus I and Calculus II courses.  During those engineering semesters, I had managed to complete all but maybe one or two Humanities/History courses, too.  I was only looking to register for the required Physics and first semester Aero Studies courses.  I couldn't get into any of the Electronics courses since all the sections were filled, so I settled for what I could get.  After I got through that, I had to go play housing lottery.  After about two hours of back-and-forth, I managed to get into Residence Hall 2, aka Dorm 2, aka "The Embry-Riddle Holiday Inn".  I had lived here through my engineering days, so I know what to expect.  I met the roommates and suitemates (two rooms to a suite, three people to a room), all of whom were Aero Science guys (they were all working towards pilot certificates)–except one.  He was in engineering.  He was a quiet kid, and engineering wasn't any kinder to him than it was me.  I kinda felt sorry for the kid…after all, I'm now the older, wiser me…

    Classes were literally a breeze.  By the end of that semester, I would have all my prerequisite courses behind me and the next three and a half years would be solid electronics and avionics courses, along with the Aero Studies courses.  See, there was no single avionics major, you took a major and added avionics.  You could take an Aviation Maintenance major and avionics (you wound up with an Airfram and Powerplant certificate and the avionics degree) or Aeronautical Studies with avionics, which is how I went.  Basically, you took all the ground school courses for flight, but no flight courses.  So, I learned basic aerial navigation and meteorology to go along with my electron theory.  Over the years, the school changed how they treated avionics until finally phasing it out a few years ago in favor of an Electronic Engineering degree program…

    More modeling?  You bet–I had spare time, so I decided to build a Tamiya 1/48 A6M2.  This was another fall together kit, it was done in a week.  Yep, a week.  Needing something else to occupy my time, and figuring that the ESCI Storch was a cool kit, so I decided to build ESCI's 1/48 scale Hs-123.  Now that one was a challenge–first serious biplane, first masked camouflage scheme with Polly S, and the kit was rife with minor warpage–typical of ESCI's kits of that era.  Well, I managed to beat it into submission, and painted it up as a Spanish Civil War machine.  I may still have it in a box here somewhere, too, and I was sure to pick up the AMTech "enhanced" reissue of the kit a few years ago.  After all, who else is likely to do an Hs-123 in 1/48 scale?

    The best part of the year?  Going back to school.  I never had any intention of *not* going back to school–my father wouldn't abide it.  He was always pushing for education-I guess it stems from the fact that he had a GED when he started working, and worked hard in correspondence classes to earn a degree.  Dad was a self made man, and he did so through hard work and trying to better himself.  I was thinking about these "good old days", and once again realized what my parents did to make sure my brother and I were ready to face the cold, cruel world–the sacrifices they made to put us both through post-secondary education, the hard work they put in to keep a roof over our heads, food on the table, and lights on in the house.  So, by going back to school–even though I wasn't overtly pushed–I was doing as they wanted. 

    On reflection, maybe I should have worked for a year after high school, then gone to college.  Maybe I should have examined engineering closer and realized that it was a bit beyond my abilities.  You can reach for the brass ring, and if you grab it on the first try, great.  I seem to reach for the ring, get a light grip on it, and then lose that slight grasp.  Rather than giving up, I'll take a breather and try again.  I usually grab that sucker for all I'm worth on the second go around, and once I have it in my grasp I never let go–I seem to cherish it more when I do that.  It has worked for me my entire life…

    Oh, yeah.  The Apple Macintosh also goes on sale in 1984, Constatin Chernenko succeeds Yuri Andropov as General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, Pierre Trudeau steps down as the Canadian Prime Minister, and Marvin Gaye's father shoots and kills the singer. 

    Musically, Van Halen released their "1984" album, giving us "Panama", "Hot For Teacher", "I'll Wait", and "Jump".  Duran Duran were touring, suppoting "Seven and the Ragged Tiger", which gave us "The Reflex", "Union of the Snake", and "New Moon on Monday".  Meanwhile, Prince and the Revolution topped the Billboard Top 100 with "When Doves Cry".  What was #100?  "Yah Mo Be There", by James Ingram and Michael McDonald…

    (I can't poke too much fun–my beloved Jethro Tull released "Under Wraps".  Not one of their best albums ever.  By far.  Even Tull's then-bassist Dave Pegg said the songs cut from 1983's "Broadsword and the Beast" would have made a better album.  Trivia time–it was the only Tull album with no live drummer–drum machines were used instead.  Doane Perry would be hired shortly after this album and was their full-time drummer until 2011.  He still occasionally tours with them.)

    The big news items in the United States for 1984, though, were generated by President Ronald Reagan.  In August, during a sound check for a radio broadcast, he says "My fellow Americans, I'm pleased to tell you today that I've signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever.  We begin bombing in five minutes".  He alos is re-elected (with George H. W. Bush as his Vice President) in a landslide victory in November, beating Democrats Walter Mondale and Geraldine Ferraro, carrying 49 states and 59% of the popular vote.

     Oh, and as an aside:  When you get an ROTC scholarship, you are basically sworn in as enlisted personnel.  Because I vacated my AFROTC scholarship, a Review Board convened.  It was decided that I wasn't vacating the scholarship for any reason other than it would be a waste of money to have me keep banging my head against a wall as an egineering student.  For my troubles, I received a package from the United States Air Force sometime in April.  Now, some fellow scholarship recipients were receiving orders to attend basic training at Lackland AFB, Texas.  I was slightly concerend until I opened the envelope.  I was granted an Honorable Discharge from the United States Air Force.  As an Airman Basic.  No orders.  One of my roommates at the time wasn't as lucky–his orders appeared a week after he got home in December, 1983.  He showed the Air Force, though–he went down and joined the Army before the Air Force caught up with him.  Many who knew this guy swore he joined the army only so he could get a good, up close look at an M1 Abrams tank so he could build a superdetailed model of one…

    I hope this finds all of you in good health.  Thanks for reading, and be good to one another.  I bid you Peace.

     

     

  • “The hobby is dead, Long Live the hobby!”

    I finally was able (once again) to get a weekend off, so the wife and I took a ride to Aiken, SC and Augusta, GA (part of the reason for the ride was to reconnoiter a possible driving route for an upcoming event).  While in town, we stopped in at the HobbyTown USA in Augusta.  Dave has a large selection of kits, the largest selection I've seen since I left South Florida.  So, I wasn't really surprised to see that he had several new kits as well a a whole mess of reissues in stock.  Some random thoughts follow…

    I like what Round Two Models is doing.  In case you haven't noticed, they acquired the rights to several manufacturers' catalogs from years gone by, including AMT, MPC, and Polar Lights.  Dave had the reissue of AMT's 1/25 scale 1976 AMC Gremlin X in their "Original Art Series".  You get the same AMT plastic from years gone by, and they also include an 11" X 14" print of the artwork less any other copy–no logo, no other text, just the artwork.  I just had to pick the kit up, since this is just the type of kit I grew up building.  The plastic parts are quite nice–no flash, very nice, very clean.  It looks like it will be a fun build, too.  The other things about this kit that caught my eye was that Round Two encloses a small fold-out catalog of their products as well as a postcard that asks the buyer "What do you want to see from Round Two Models?"  It warms my heart to see a company is once again willing to listen to their customer base.  The other Round Two products that caught my eye were a Limited Edition of the 1/16 scale Dodge Charger in the guise of a "Street Charger"–rumor has it that the NASCAR version (the Petty Charger) will be released shortly.  Also, their 1/25 scale Big Rig collection has been joined by the reissue of the Diamond Reo.  Very nice…

    The other kit that caught my eye at HobbyTown USA was the new Revell 1/48 scale PV-1 Ventura.  Twenty years ago, I would have been all over this kit like a fat kid on a box of Krispy Kremes–I lived for 1/48 scale WWII aircraft, and the Ventura was one I would have loved to build back in the day.  Since then, I have switched scales to 1/72 for multi-engined subjects, but the Revell kit still interests me by the fact that is is a new release from the re-re-reborn Revell.  By all accounts, it is quite the kit.  I'm happy to see Revell back in the game.  I'm also happy to see Revell reissuing recent kits (if you call 10 year old kits "recent") like the 1/48 SB2C, P-47N, and the Prowler/Intruder series.  If that doesn't wake you up, have you seen some of the Renwal kits that Revell has been reissuing?  Sweet…

    Then there's Moebius Models.  If you haven't seen them in stores yet, their 1/25 scale kits of the 1952/1953 Husdon Hornet are out, and they are very nice, indeed.  My wife preordered the Tim Flock 1952 NASCAR version of the kit, and I am impressed.  Build reports from the Internet are saying wonderful things about this kit and its 1953 street version brother.  Next up from Moebius is a 1955 Chrysler 300, and I can't wait to see it.

    Even better?  All of them are offering some sort of newsletter or modeler's club.  Nice, right?

    I think what we're seeing here is a return of hobbyists having a say in how model companies are run.  Back in the days of Lew and Royle Glaser (Revell), Jack Besser and Bob Reder (Monogram), Joe Giammarino and Abe Shikes (Aurora), to name but a few, the model companies were run by modelers and hobbyists.  There was a sense of business behind them–after all, if the company made no money, they were out of business–but the driving force was the hobby.  These folks were hobbyists themselves, and they knew what they wanted to see.  They'd research a subject, and if they thought it would sell, they'd design, tool, and produce the product. 

    A lot changed, and not for the good, when Nabisco bought Aurora and Mattell acquired Monogram.  The hobby people were either out for good or shunted to the side while the businessmen made the product decisions.  Now, granted, not every hobbyist running a company had the Golden Touch–when Royle Glaser began running her late husband's company, she did some trimming, since Revell had a huge catalog, but was never very stable financially.  But in the end, Revell, too, was sold to a business group.  With the departure of the hobbyists, these companies did continue to thrive for a while.  But things weren't as rosy, I guess, as they appeared.  Monogram merged with Revell.  They were bought and sold several times.  The Monogram name has all but gone away for new kits.  The last new aircraft kit from Revell (not Revell-Germany!) that comes to mind was the 1/48 scale F/A-18E and F kits from around 2005.  The names MPC and AMT all but disappeared when Racing Champions acquired the company in the late 1990's.  Nabisco liquidated Aurora in 1977.  Hawk Models went away, many of their kits reappeared in Testor's boxes. 

    Recently, though, things have been looking up.  J.Lloyd International has the Lindberg, Hawk, Weird-Ohs, Frantics, and Silly Surfers lines in their catalog.  Round Two, as we've discussed, has AMT, MPC, and Polar Lights under thier banner, and they have been busy reissuing kits from years past.  Moebius is going quite well with their Sci-Fi, vehicle, and various comic book and movie character kits.  With the Revell release of the Ventura, one can only hope they are on the road to many more new releases and reissues of their kits from back in the day.

    Add to all this the recent releases and reissues from Dragon/DML/Cyber-Hobby, Hasegawa, Trumpeter/HobbyBoss, and Tamiya, several new issues from Italeri along with their extensive back catalog, the availability of Fujimi kits once again in the United States, Academy's releases and reissues, Roden's ever-expanding line of kits from WWI crates to airliners to, well, whatever strikes their fancy…and that's just airplanes, folks.  We haven't begun to discuss autos in depth, let alone armor and ships.

    If there is any modeler out there who can't see that we are living in another Golden Age of modeling, they haven't been looking very hard.  I, for one, am being reenergized…

    On another note, I'll be once again heading out to our comany's Dallas facility for a week.  I hope to have more time to see the area than I did last November.  No rest for the weary…

    Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, and I bid you Peace.

  • The late, lamented Orange Blossom Hobbies

    We finally have an empty hangar again.  While not necessarily a great thing–no airplanes in the hangar means no work, which means no income for the time being–it does give us some time to catch our collective breath and reset the place for the next job.  In the meantime…

    One of the hobby shops I used to frequent–although not to the extent that other modelers I knew did–was Orange Blossom Hobbies in Miami.  Just getting there could be an adventure, as the shop was located in a not-so-great neighborhood on NW 36th Street.  Let's just say that when there is a Security guard and a walled-in parking lot with a gate, you need to be heads-up at all times.  Carrying a firearm–legally, of course–didn't exactly hurt.  Once you made your way through the 'hood and parked in the semi-secure lot, though, you were in for a treat.

    OB was located in an old bowling alley.  Right next door was their wholesale operation, Pan American Distributors.  As you walked in to the place, you immediately noticed the layout.  The ceiling had staggered tiles, the floor was skinny strips of harwood complete with the lane diamonds.  No matter, though–the place was usually packed with merchandise.  The first thing you noticed at the entrance was the RC counter directly ahead of you–it was usually three deep with people looking to buy that latest RC truck, car, or airplane.  It was the center anchor of the store, so to speak, since it really did occupy the center of the store (as well as one wall).  Off to the left, though, was plastic treasure…

    From the first visit I made to the store to the last, one thing remained constant–the guy behind the counter.  Pat Parnther was always there, always working, and always had some story or joke to tell.  His favorite quips were, "That's life in the tropics!" and "Happiness is a winning lottery ticket!"  I don't think I ever went in there when Pat wasn't selling the latest stuff to come out of the hobby industry.  You'd spend a few minutes with Pat, then check out the shelves.  The shelves…well, they were packed.  If you couldn't find it on the shelf at Orange Blossom, they either just sold what you wanted or it hasn't been made.  You could (and I'm speaking from experience, here) spend a day just hunting among the boxes on the shelves.  But wait, there's Pat, telling another joke…

    Another fun feature of the shop was the row of cabinets behind the counter.  After a visit or two, you'd get to know Pat–and then, he'd say, "Go back there and look–I don't even know what's there."  And he was usually as surprised as you were when you pulled some oddity from one of the drawers.  He had decals–stacks of decals–from anyone and everyone who ever made decals.  When airliner models had their heyday in the mid- to late-1990's, Pat would have multiples of not only kits, but the decals that went with them.  Aeromaster was pretty much the house brand, too, so there were plenty of Gaston and Company's latest and greatest.  If it was made in the form of a decal, resin update, white metal update, conversion, or limited run kit, it was there.  I'll never forget the day we found a stash of ATP's 1/144 scale Metroliners in one of the drawers…

    Along with the accessories, there were resin kits.  At one point, Pat had several of the Blue Water Navy kits in multiples.  If you were even remotely interested, Pat would go get one and let you fondle it.  After a while, he's sweeten the deal a bit.  And, before I knew it, I had quite the collection of them.  But that's the way the store worked–you'd take your stack of soon-to-be attic insulation and plop it on the counter.  Pat would pull out a calculator and total it all up, then say, "Ahhh, give me ____ bucks."  With that, you handed over the coin of the realm and concluded the deal.  But there was more to see…

    Up front, on the side of the store that butted up to NW 36th Street, was where the entrance to the old bowling alley was.  The restrooms were up there, as were the display cases.  After spending hours searching the shelves, you could spend even more time looking at the models in the case.  Some of it was done using the Aeromaster products as sort of a sales aid, but most of it was from the local club guys and the regular customers–much the same, dare I say, as many hobby shop display cases the world over.  I still remember some of those models, and I still remember talking with the guys who built them.  One time, there was a model in the nicest bare metal finish I had ever seen–and was then told that the finish was Aerogloss Silver dope.  I never did get around to trying that on one of my models, but it certainly looked the part.  Gaston was one of the proponents of using dope–it went on smooth and dried hard.  Trouble was, you had to be careful in your prep or the dope could craze the plastic.  I was still using Floquil's silvers at the time and figured they worked well enough for what I wanted.

    My last visit to Orange Blossom was about ten years ago–I was about a month away from moving out of South Florida, and I wanted to hang out with the gang one last time, since I didn't know when I'd be back.  Stories had begun to circulate, too, that they were in financial trouble and may be closing.  I went by, picked up some stuff I had noticed during one of the foraging sessions in the cabinets, and spent a while talking with Pat.  He was not happy, since it was becoming more and more apparent that he'd soon be out of a job…

    The end came sometime that October or November.  The next trip we made to South Florida was in December of 2001, and during that trip we stopped at another haunt, Pearl Art and Craft.  There, on a table out front, was a pile of model kits.  There was no mistaking where they came from, for prominently printed on the original price tage were the words "ORANGE BLOSSOM HOBBIES" and under that, "Miami, Florida."  The kits were being sold at closeout prices.  We had been informed of Ornage Blossom's demise some week earlier, but here was visual confirmation of the same.

    My wife and I often think about the treasure trove of out of print decals and other goofy things in that row of cabinets.  We often wonder what became of them.  And when we do, we look back to the day when you could go into the store, spend a few hours uncovering some long-forgotten kit, or decal sheet, and then hear those magic words:  "Ahhh, give me fifty bucks…"

    Those were the days, when hobby shops were made of bricks and mortar and run by hobbyists.  That's becoming a rarity these days.  And that's a shame.  It is one reason that I will visit the local hobby shops, no matter where my travels take me.  There's something about finding one of those shops where they have stashes of oddities, stacks of old kits, and a guy behind the counter who knows models.  When you find one, you don't forget–and you want to go back to that shop as often as you can.

    Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, and I bid you Peace.

     

     

     

  • A Catalina Story

    Any fan of World War Two warbirds knows the Consolidated PBY Catalina/Canso–the ungainly-looking, high wing flying boat/amphibian patrol aircraft.  Well, I made the acquaintance of a few of these aircraft in my career, the first of which was a Boeing-Canada built PBY-5A Canso that the company I worked for acquired back in 1989 or 1990.  She wasn’t much to look at–after the war, she had been modified to what was known as 28-5ACF and was to have been used as a freight hauler or firebomber.  During that change, she had her waist gun blisters replaced with cargo doors, and she had the later “clipper” nose fitted that eliminated the gun turret and window–these modifications removed a lot of the character that made a PBY a PBY.  But I got to do a little avionics work on her, and other than reminding yourself that there are lots of places to bang your shins or whack your head in this old girl (and there are two kinds of people who work around flying boats–those that have knocked their head or shins on something, and those who will!), it was more or less a joy.  Yes, there was oil all around, too–any radial-engined airplane will have a film of oil covering most of the airplane after too long, and this PBY was no exception.

    Doing some research, it seems that my first PBY was a bit of a celebrity.  She was born as Construction Number 22022 and went to the Royal Canadian Air Force as RCAF9793 sometime in 1943.  After the war, she kicked around a bit–she carried, at one time or another, the following registrations: YV-P-APE, OB-LDM-349, HK-996X, HP-289, HR-236, N6108, and TG-BIV.  I knew her as November Five Four Zero Four Juliet.

    One of her claims-to-fame?  She was used by Southern Air Transport for a while, and while under their employ she served as a communications relay aircraft during the ill-fated Bay of Pigs invasion.  To top that, she was also supposedly used in the Pearl Harbor attack movie “Tora Tora Tora!”.  To put the cherry on top of her career, she was used for a time by oceanographer Jacques Cousteau…

    (Do a Google search on “N5404J” and you will get dozens of hits.  Really.  I could post the information here, but I’ve been working one of those weeks of half-days–seven days, twelve hour shifts.  I’m feeling a bit lazy this Sunday…)

    Zero-Four Juliet  stayed with us for a year or so.  I’m not sure what we did to the airplane up until 1990, but there came a time where the maintenance guys went to work doing some sheet metal work.  They were adding seat rails and a passenger floor to the airplane.  They were also re-routing all of the overhead fluid lines–we were told that she was to be ferried to New Zealand, where she would haul passengers, and you can’t have volatile liquids (read: 100 Low Lead Aviation Gasoline, aka 100LL AVGAS).  As it turned out, she was actually going to be brought to New Zealand to be used as a flying museum.  Unfortunately, it would not come to pass–at least, not for Zero Four Juliet.  The airplane left our facility sometime in late 1993.  I heard little about her until a friend told me that she crashed in January 1994 while en route from Hilo, HI to Papeete in French Polynesia.  She sank in the Pacific.  Fortunately, the occupants were rescued.

    A post from The Warbird Information Exchange, which came from The Catalina Group of New Zealand’s website:

    N5404J, serial number 22022, was built by Boeing of Canada and had the RCAF Serial 9793. It was originally a Canso A (PBY-5A) but at the war’s end was modified in Costa Rica to 28-5ACF status. Its blister windows and nose turret were removed, the former replaced with flush hatches; the latter with a “clipper” nose. Registrations have included: YV-P-APE, OB-LDM-349, HK-996X, HP-289, HR-236, N6108, TG-BIV, N5404J.

    It took part in the ill-fated “Bay of Pigs” operation in Cuba during which, while circling the invasion area and operating with the code name “Swan Island”, its mission was to act as a communications relay aircraft. It was also used in making of the film Tora, Tora, Tora, flying in pre-war US Navy colours both as 24-P-4 and 24-P9 representing PBYs from VP-24 based on Ford Island, Pearl Harbour. It was hired at one time by renown marine biologist Jacques Cousteau on one of his ventures (Jacques Cousteau’s son, Philippe was killed in PBY-6A Catalina N101CS –”Flying Calypso” in a water landing accident).           

    N5404J’s last registered owner was The Catalina Company (NZ) Ltd under which the registration ZK-PBY was reserved but never taken up as the aircraft forced landed and sank in mid-Pacific early on January 14, 1994 during a ferry flight to New Zealand. For the whole fascinating story order a copy of Catalina Dreaming from this site today!

    My second encounter with a Catalina happened about the same time–it was the airplane now known as N4NC, and maybe I’ll tell you about it (and other hangar stories) some time…for as Zero Four Juliet was a workhorse, Four November Charlie was a flying yacht.

    There was yet another Catalina I knew, too–N7179Y, a PBY-6A–and (as of September of 2009) she resides in the restoration facility of the Lake Superior Squadron of the Commemorative Air Force.  She was flipped on her back during a storm some 12 years ago.  It is a shame, too–Seven Niner Yankee lived through Hurricane Andrew in 1991 with nary a scratch.  It appears as if they will combine the best parts from Seven Niner Yankee and another PBY-6A.  I haven’t been able to dig up anything more current…

    Thanks for reading, and, as always, I bid you Peace.

  • The month of Indy is upon us…

    (As I update this entry, it is May 2nd, 2026 and once again the motorsports world is looking towards Indianapolis.  Since this original entry, the series and speedway have been bought by Roger Penske, who is doing his usual efficient job of managing things.  The fields are smaller, however–these days, the big question isn’t “How many teams will go home on Bump Day” but “Will we have 33 entries?”

    On the subject of lady racers, Milka, Danica, and Sarah retired–Sarah sold her team to Ed Carpenter.  Bia and Simona have moved on to other series, too.  This year, Katherine Legge, a driver from Jolly Old England and one hell of a wheel, will be driving in a one-off deal with AJ Foyt Racing.  Katherine raced in the Atlantic series before moving to CART, then to IndyCar before moving to sports cars with the now-defunct American Le Mans Series and finally IMSA.  She’s one of my favorites to watch when she races in the 500, and I hope this year she does well…)   

    May.  Spring is on the wane, the heat and humidity levels are rising, and the racers are back at Indianapolis.  Well, maybe not quite yet, since their race in Brazil ran a day longer than it was planned to due to rain…

    I remember watching footage of the 500 as a kid–you’d usually catch it on ABC’s “Wide World of Sports” a few weeks after the race ran.  I didn’t follow it as closely as some fans did back then, but I knew of it and of the storied drivers who attempted to beat the track.  Some won, some lost…

    I was in college when I really started taking an interest in the race.  I got familiar with their qualifying format, Bump Day, Carburetion day, and the like.  Back then, you might have 50 or 60 cars vying for a spot in the starting grid.  Indy, unlike other races, sees the fastest 33 cars start the race.  It doesn’t matter if you’re the defending Champ, if you aren’t quick enough, you go home–as Smokey Yunick said in his memoirs, “Turn in your hero badge and try again next year.”

    When the Split came in 1996, I lost interest.  It seemed to me then that North American open wheel racing was in serious trouble.  I wasn’t far off the mark–the upstart Indy Racing League (IRL) sputtered on with their low-buck scheme using one or two approved powerplants and chassis to make racing affordable, while the established Championship Auto Racing Teams (CART) seemed to hold all the cards–other than the Memorial Day race at the Brickyard, they had the well funded teams and still fostered a sense of innovation.  CART had better backing, and most of the established teams stayed with CART after the split.  After a few years, though, CART’s armor started to tarnish when several big name teams–Penske, Ganassi, and what is now Andretti Autosport, to name a few–defected to the IRL. Their goal?  Run ans win the Indy 500.  As CART teams, their chances were limited under the IRL’s rules which only allowed a certain number of non-IRL teams an opportunity to qualify.   CART went insolvent in 2003, re-branded itself as ChampCar, and then folded in early 2008.  The two series were reunified under the IRL (now IndyCar) banner.

    But the IRL wasn’t the first time that open wheel racing in the States had issues.  The Indy 500 was originally sanctioned by The American Automobile Association, and remained so until the multitude of racing fatalities that occurred in 1955–Bill Vukovich died in a fiery crash at Indy, and over 200 hundred people were killed or injured at that year’s running of the 24 Heures duMans when Pierre Leveigh’s Mercedes went airborne and crashed into a group of spectators, to name a few.  AAA got out of the racing business.  The United States Auto Club (USAC) took over sanctioning duties for North American open-wheel racing (along with short track, sprint cars, and briefly, stock cars) until the late 1970’s.  With attendance, purses and revenues on a decline, and a sense that the sanctioning body wasn’t doing their job, a group of team owners drafted the “Gurney White Paper”, which was inspired by the way Bernie Ecclestone had reformed Formula One.  CART would promote the races under USAC sponsorship.  When that was rejected by USAC, CART took over.  The rest, as they say…

    These days, a good year sees maybe 35 to 40 cars make a qualifying attempt.  I do certainly hope that the new overseers of IndyCar take a long look at what Indy has become.  Do we need four weeks at the speedway?  After all, the cars haven’t used carburetted engines since the 1960’s or earlier, so what sense is having Carb Day?  Knock it down to two weeks, and you’ll save the teams money and maybe be able to add a race to the schedule.

    If you want a good idea of what Indy qualifying used to be like, you need to read Smokey Yunick’s memior/autobiography.  While largely though of as a NASCAR personality, Smokey’s real love was Indy and the 500.  As he says, they had a little. skinny rule book and they fostered innovation.  And Smokey was certainly an innovator.

    I do look forward to this year’s running–it is the 100th running of the Indy 500, true, but the quality of the racing has improved.  In a twist of irony, the IRL under previous leader Tony George had turned into what CART was when the Split took place–a few large, well funded teams were the perennial winners, the others were also-rans.  Once they defected from CART, they quickly became the teams to beat, and the smaller, lesser known teams suffered as a result.  It seems that the new leadership at IndyCar understands this, and it also seems as if some of the former ChampCar teams have caught up to the long-standing IRL teams in terms of speed and quality.  New drivers have come along, both those from the defunct CART/ChampCar ranks and from the various developmental series.

    And, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the “girl racers”.  While ladies had run Indy before–Lyn St. James and Janet Guthrie have both run the race–lately it has been the Danica Patrick show.  Before Danica was Sarah Fisher, now a team owner, and the forgettable Milka Duno–Milka came to the IRL from the Grand American Road Racing Associations’ Rolex Sports Car series, where she was a perennial back marker.  If she couldn’t get it done at sub-100 mile per hour speeds, she certainly became a hazard at 200+ mph.  Lately, two new young ladies have entered the series:  Simona deSilvestro and Ana Beatriz.  Simona and Ana, I believe, have what it takes to win races–Simona had the quickest lap this past weekend at the rain-soaked Brazilian race.

    And my favorite to win?  This year, I’d like to see Sarah Fisher’s hard work pay off.  She’s due for some good fortune at Indy, and why not this year?

    Whoever you cheer for, enjoy the month of Indy.  Try to catch some of the qualifying sessions.  They’re so different from the way qualifying is usually done, and it can become habit-forming.

    Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, and I bid you Peace.

     

  • Ain’t that worth at least one “Hot-Diggety Damn?”

    The airplane we've been dealing with at work made the test flight this afternoon.  You know you've done a good job when a factory test pilot gets off the airplane and tells you, "That airplane flies really nice."  Remember, this is a production test pilot who probably last flew this particular airplane when it was originally built and certified about 12 years ago…

    The back story is this–Learjets require a major inspection every 12 years and another one every 12,000 flight hours.  This is in addition to other phase/time inspections on a more frequent basis (6 months, 12 months, etc.).  The 12-year, though, is a biggie.  The interior gets removed, the antennas get removed, even the instruments and instrument panel gets pulled out, all so the airframe can be X-Rayed and tested in other ways (eddy current, ultrasound, etc.).  Then, once you know what you have, you effect repairs.  During this inspection, you'll find cracked windows, cracked structural members, corrosion, and all sorts of other issues that need to be dealt with.  There are other time items to do–certify the air data computers so the altitude and airspeed readouts are correct, calibrate the fuel quantity system, check the Emergency Locater Transmitter (ELT), service the emergency batteries–you get the picture.  You also remove the leading edge panels on the wing.  Now, a Learjet is a high-performance aircraft, and how the air flows over the wing is very important.  Removing even two adjacent screws from the leading edge panel, if you read the maintenance manual, requires a test flight along the lines of what we had done today, since you can change the flight–and stall–characteristics of the airplane drastically.  Even having too much sealant on the panel joints has been known to adversely affect the stall of a Learjet, so it is important that the work gets done properly.  That being said, you can only do so much on the ground to certify the systems.  The only way to know how the airplane will perform in flight is to fly it.

    What's a stall?  Well, in aerodynamic terms, it is when the airflow over the wing gets so disturbed that the wing stops generating lift–in other words, the wing is no longer flying.  You enter a stall by pitching the nose up, pulling the power back, the airplane may (or may not–depends on the airframe) start to buffet and growl at you, the stick shaker (a little motor and eccentric weight that makes the control yoke vibrate) activates, lights flash, and…then it seems like the sky has literally dropped you.  The nose drops, and if all goes well, the airplane maintains a level flight attitude.  As the airplane regains forward motion, the wing starts flying again.  Easy, right?  Well, some airplanes behave as they should.  But sometimes, you'll have one that snaps a wing down into a roll after the stall.  Or enters a spin.  Bad news.  That means that something needs to be re-adjusted, re-worked, or re-rigged, and the airplane needs to be flown again.  Fortunately, today's flight went extremely well, and we're about ready to deliver it to the owner so he can put it back into service.

    Not bad for three months' work.     

    On the miniature aviation front, progress is being made on the 1/72 scale FineMolds Ki-100b, and, just as a quickie for comparison, I started a 1/72 Hasegawa Ki-61 to show the differences between the radial-engined Ki-100 and the in-line Ki-61.  The two of them should make a nice display–the Ki-61 is being built strictly out of the box (I didn't even add a stick, since you can't see a whole lot once the canopy is stuck in place) with kit decals–more than likely, I'll do MAJ Kobayashi's airplane.

    The StuG IV is progressing, too.  I've finished the Zimmerit and have to squirt some flat black paint under the engine deck so I can button that area up.  The fenders are on, I hope to start putting the gun and fighting compartment together before too long.  For this one, I decided to go OOB (well, OOB plus the Zimmerit) and concentrate my efforts on the finish, since I can rarely get a convincing finish on an armor piece. 

    The other projects should pick up, too.  I'll give you updates and photos as I'm able.

    Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, and I bid you Peace.

     

  • A long week just got longer…

    Well, today was to have been the day that a crew test flew the airplane we've had in heavy maintenance since the end of January.  Well, it wasn't to be–during the pre-flight engine runs, a problem developed, a problem we had seen during the inspection and had solved.  Or so we thought.  At any rate, we'll have a few days to sort things out, get everything right, and make the test flight. 

    Aviation goes that way, sometimes.  Two steps forward, three back, sometimes you can't progress.  Problems that seemed easy to solve start rearing their ugly heads.  Problems that were noted on the flight inbound weren't verified, as in we could not duplicate them on the incoming runs and tests.  And, as sure as day fades into night, they pop back up when you least expect them to.  So, you ask, what do you do?  You deal with them.  You go back into troubleshooting mode and you work the problem.  You find the culprit, make the repairs, and re-test the systems until you are satisfied that you have fixed it.

    An interesting comment was made, though.  Lest anyone think that we're six feet tall, bulletproof, all-knowing and all-seeing, I hate to shatter that illusion.  We're humans.  We don't know everything.  But the subject came up about using a factory tech rep to assist.  "At one point in my career", a colleague said, "I didn't like using tech reps.  It was a pride thing.  The longer I worked in aviation, though, the more I saw them as another tool in my arsenal."  I replied to him that I use any and all resources available to me, including tech reps, and I always have since I became aware of their presence.  I'm not proud.  I don't know everything.  If asking a few questions helps me get the airplane fixed an on it's way faster, well, so be it.  Tech reps have an advantage–they hear about these problems multiple times.  They know the systems better than the back of their hand.  Factory reps have the added advantage of being able to consult a database.  They know what we know–an airplane on the ground is costing the owner money.

    Back in the day when airplanes weren't as sophisticated, repairs were easy–they took a deal of mechanical know-how, to be sure, but if you knew how an internal combustion engine worked, you were pretty well set.  When radios got added to the mix, there was a degree of specialized knowledge required.  These days, airplanes are more of a flying computer than a mechanical beast.  Electronics interface with nearly every system onboard, and when something burps, the whole lot senses it and pukes a fault.  Talk about specialized knowledge…there are schools on top of schools for the latest generation of avionics.  We used to have a saying when I was in college:  "Avionics–Making Pilots Obsolete".  Twenty years or so ago, it was sort of a tongue-in-cheek deal, these days it is largely true.  You think that airliner you're flying in is stable because the pilot has an exceptionally steady hand on the wheel?  Nope–an autopilot can fly the airplane from taxi to taxi, including takeoff and landing.  A standing joke with some airplanes is, "Where's the slot for the quarters?" and "Does this thing have Pac-Man?"  You kids out there will have to ask your folks about Pac-Man…

    We'll be back at it tomorrow morning.  We'll have the old girl back in the air before you know it…

    Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another.  I bid you Peace.