Iron Modeler

Category: Chasing sparks

  • Goings-on

    This has been a busy week–well, maybe not so much busy.  I guess the word I'm looking for is out of the ordinary.  This week every year is like that for me–the post-Le Mans let down, for one, gets to me.  Of all the motorsports events that take place around the world every year, this has got to be my absolute favorite.  And, because of that, I tend to want to watch all of it that I can, which leads to sleep deprivation, which slows me down for the following week.

    We've also got an airplane in the final phases of an inspection, and that's when things tend to get hectic.  Parts are arriving, final checks are being done, and everyone is working to make sure that A: the airplane gets done when promised and 2: we don't miss anything or compromise the safety of the airplane in any way.  Believe me, there are times that the latter provides enough stress to last a month of Sundays.  

    And, an additional factor is the heat.  The calendar may indicate it is late Spring, but here where I'm at, it is most definitely summer.  The hummingbirds are back–we've put both feeders out for them–and the whip-poor-wills are hanging around in the evening, singing away.  Even those annoying gnats–we refer to them as "dog-pecker gnats", since they tend to congregate around that particular part of canine anatomy–common to South Carolina are back.  Most telling is the heat and humidity.  We're going on maybe 20 days where the daytime high has been at least 90 degrees so far this year.  We've not had a lot of rain, either–although the skies did open up on Wednesday evening and knocked power out for several hours, we haven't had a good, steady rain in quite some time.  And while the weather-guessers and meterolog-ities (you know, "celebrities" who guess the weather–folks like Al Roker and Jim Cantore) will tell you, "It will be a hot one, stay inside!", they don't say what to do when your job consists of working outside year-round.  The best we can do is stay hydrated and keep the fans running, but even that doesn't help much.  So, at the end of the day, the heat and stress take their toll.  These days, my Fun Meter is usually pegged out come mid afternoon (maybe 2PM), and Going-Home Thirty can't come soon enough.

    On other fronts, the local IPMS Chapter held their monthly meeting this week.  There was a good number of models on the table for show and tell this month–I'm always interested to see what others are doing, and this month's turnout was a treat.  At the same time, the local AMPS Chapter is in the final planning stages for our Inaugural Show/Contest, so things are getting busy on the hobby front, too. 

    As usual, I'm trying to keep some build momentum working, but I hit a bit of a snag this week.  I shot the silver paint on the NASCAR Monte Carlo this past weekend, so that I could start putting the decals on this week.  Well, a decal sheet that has been kicking around in my stash for some 15 years is a little worse for the wear.  The decals shattered when I tired to soak them off the backing sheet (the inks have become brittle, and the more layers of color, the worse it is), and the kit contingency decals are no great shakes, either (typical of Monogram decals from the '80s and '90s).  I can touch up the decals and finesse the contingencies, but what I'm probably going to do is strip off what I have on the car and clean up the paint.  There's supposed to be a new sheet of the same scheme coming out soon, and I think I can wait.  After all, the project has been waiting for the past 15 years, what's another month or so?  I can finish the engine and chassis, clean it up the painted body, and put it aside again–temporarily–so that I can get back to work on the A-10A and the StuG IV.  I'll be happy to finally get some more projects moving along and finished.

    I made myself a promise–other than the Le Mans build, I will not start another project until I can get the A-10A and StuG finished.  And I intend to follow through…and as soon as I can get replacement decals for the Monte Carlo, it will get finished, too.

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

  • Zero-Eight Zulu

    In 1935, The Douglas Aircraft Company flew the first DC-3, and in doing so, started a revolution in commercial air travel.  The DC-3 was fast, roomy, and, above all, safer than all others before it.  The fact that there are still DC-3's (and the military versions) still flying in their original, as-built conditions speaks volumes about the airplane.  An icon?  Oh, yeah…

    By 1938, though, the airlines were looking for a larger version of the DC-3.  One prototype, the DC-4E, was built for United Airlines (you see, kids, the airlines were driving the market–they'd tell the manufacturers what they wanted, and the manufacturers would build it).  With additional interest from the other major carriers, Douglas went ahead and built the -4E.  It was larger, faster, and more advanced than the -3 was.  In fact, it was a bit too far advanced, and the project was abandoned in favor of a similar, yet smaller design–this would become the DC-4.

    The DC-4 (in military clothes, it was the C-54) first flew in 1938.  Powered by four Pratt and Whitney R-2000 and could cruise at 225 knots at about 21,000 feet.  It was quickly drafted into World War Two service, and the first C-54 flew in 1942.  Notable because of her service during the Berlin Airlift, the airplane soon faded into obscurity after the war–the military was phasing the older transports out in favor of ones with greater lifting capacity, and the airlines wanted bigger airplanes that could fly farther, higher, and faster.  The USAF, USN, and the armed forces of several other nations kept the C-54's gainfully employed for many years after the war, the last ones being retired in the late 1970's/early 1980's.

    Post-war, Aviation Traders converted 21 airframes to the ATL-98 Carvair.  Anyone who has seen the James Bond movie "Goldfinger" has seen a Carvair–that's the airplane that flew Goldfinger, OddJob, and Mr. Goldfinger's Phaeton and golf clubs back to Europe.  You can't miss a Carvair–that bulbous nose is a dead giveaway…

    Our particular airframe was built where all C-54's were built–Douglas' Orchard Park facility, where O'Hare International Airport now sits.  Taken up by the Army Air Force, she saw service for several years before being reassigned to the U. S. Navy as an RC-54V, Navy Bureau Number (BuNo) 45614.  The RC-54V, by the way, was used as a mapping aircraft.  She was transferred to the U. S. Coast Guard at some point, as well, according to one report I've read.  I can find no history that suggested that she flew in WWII (unlikely) or in the Berlin Airlift (probable, since pretty much all airlift assets of the U.S. military were on call for such duty), or Korea (maybe, although she was probably performing mapping duties for the Navy at that time).  The interesting part of this airplane's history–for me, at least–is after she retired from the military.

    My first acquaintance with Douglas C-54G-10-DO, Constructor's Number 36067, USAAF Serial Number 45-0614, civil registration N708Z, came around 1990 or 1991, when the company I worked for bought her from Aero Union in Chico, California to replace the C-54A-10-DC we recently had to retire (and that one would have been N74183, C/N 10314, USAAF S/N 42-72209.  She later wound up in the Flying Leatherneck Museum at MCAS El Toro with a fake BuNo  of 90392.).  Zero-Eight Zulu had previously kicked around a bit–she had been owned by Southern Aero Traders and sat at Opa-Locka (just north of Miami, FL) for a while, then Aero Union had her and used her as a fire tanker.  If you knew where to look, you could see where the fire suppressant tank was installed on her belly.  

    When we got her, it was evident that the paint scheme she wore was previously painted over–there was evidence of a darker paint around the rivet heads and in some of the lap joints.  Also, in the cockpit, there were a lot of phony placards painted in "Russian".  Well, if you look, hard enough, there was also a fake "Russian" registration, too:  CCCP-56397.  And then I started to dig and ask questions–I suppose to a few of my colleagues I was off my rocker, since I was one of the few people there who actually liked working on the "pigs".  I loved the history behind these airplanes.  They had character; they had been places and done things, more so than any other airplane I've worked on before or since.

    So, as Paul Harvey would say, the story picks up in the late 1980's.  Apparently, our airplane was a movie star.  Well, maybe a stunt double.  See, the fake "Russian" disguise was leftover "makeup" from when our airplane appeared in the forgettable 1989 flick "The Experts".  The plot was that two hip Americans, Travis and Wendell, get kidnapped by the KGB, sent to a Russian town that is modeled on American society, and tasked (unknown to them) with bringing the place into the present–as it was when they got there, it was right out of "Leave it to Beaver" and "Father Knows Best".  Well, sooner or later, our heroes get wise to the deal and try to get away.  One of their assistants is a Russian Air Force pilot, and his airplane is their ticket out.  The flying sequences were done by a C-118B (and I suspect another airplane that found employment with us), but when everything was "in the can", they found they needed some shots from inside the airplane.  Since the C-118 was not available, they turned to the next best thing–yep, the C-54.  Paint it dark, sprinkle a few cryptic placards around, and *voila*, we've got us the inside of a Russian transport!  The paint job lasted longer than the movie did in the theaters, I fear.

    That was probably the highlight of Zero-Eight Zulu's career.  She served us well until 1994, when she blew a jug on the number two engine during a landing.  Our cargo contracts were winding down, the old propliners were getting harder and harder to find parts for–especially anything with R-2000's–and she just sat.  I left the company around that time, but I know her avionics were removed and installed on a Volpar Turboliner (a conversion of the venerable Beech 18/C-45 with Garrett/AiResearch TPE-331 turboprop powerplants replacing the R-985's–another interesting airplane I might tell you about someday), and rumor was she was going to be broken up.

    Sometime shortly after the Turn of the Century, she got a reprieve.  I learned she was being repaired and possibly restored as a Warbird.  Later still, I heard she would be earning her keep in Alaska.  And that, boys and girls, is where she is now–flying for Brooks Air Fuel out of Fairbanks, AK.  They really tarted her up, too–she now wears a quite attractive livery reminiscent of the United Airlines of old.

    It does my heart good to see these old airplanes flying.  Especially airplanes like the DC-4, since they aren't found that often.  More DC-3's are still active than DC-4's…

    I have been hoping for years than someone would produce a good kit of the DC-4/C-54 in something larger than 1/144 scale.  Minicraft graced us with a 1/144 scale version several years ago, and it is a beautiful kit.  But I have also wanted to build one on 1/72 scale, and right now the pickings are slim.  Rareplanes did a vac-form a long time ago, and they are difficult to find and expensive once you do find one.  Mach 2 produced a kit of a "DC-4", but like all Mach 2 kits, there is a lot to be desired.  So, I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I'll be converting a Heller DC-6 kit one of these days… 

    (Apologies for the links–I could not, for the life of me, find my photos of the old girl.  If the links fail, you can spend an afternoon or two on Airliners.net, just search under "N708Z".)

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

     

  • Busy, Busy World

    (With apologies to Richard Scarry.)  My brother and I had a copy of "Richard Scarry's Busy, Busy World" when we were kids, and I must have read that book a few thousand times.  My wife also had a copy that she fund when we visited her parents a year or so ago…I do love the way he drew cats!

    I had intentions of posting a few more RDUCON photos, but I haven't had the time–or, frankly, energy–to tweak them and get them posted.  While we aren't exactly bustin' at the seams at the job, I have had some things to keep me busy, and with the slow period, we've all been trying to catch up with personal things (doctor and dentist appointments, personal leave, etc.) and, believe it or not, keep the shop equipment up and running.  I spent almost a week with a paint brush and Safety Yellow paint working while we rehabbed some newly acquired ground support equipment for the shop.  A good deal of it had been through two floods in Cincinnati, and it showed.  Picking rust, priming, and painting was the order of the day…

    Add to that, last week I attended a half-day battery seminar.  And, during our clean up sessions, we located three Nickel Cadmium (NiCd) aircraft batteries, two of which were still in good shape.  So, yesterday I discharged them and I spent this morning tearing one down to its component parts (cells, case, thermistor strips, shims, etc., etc.) and washing all of it.  Tomorrow, I'll be re-assembling it and tumbling the hardware to clean it.  Once the first battery is back together, I'll do the same for the other.  After that, I have two days chock-full of fun–main charge, top charge, capacity check, and a possible deep-cycle.  Repeat.  Locate any bad parts and cells, repair, and repeat.

    And, during this fun-fest, the state held a mock disaster drill next door.  So, we got to watch the dog-and-pony show roll into town yesterday as they set up their circus tents and command posts and media centers and such, and got to watch today as the "victims" were airlifted in (actually, they were waiting on the C-17 in the hangar next door–after the airplane stopped, they walked across the ramp into the airplane, were "injured" or "killed", and toted back off the airplane on litters and body bags), their "injuries" evaluated, and were sent via ambulance or helicopter to the local trauma centers.  A few hours later, the airplane flew off.  I left work early today to tend to some personal business, but I'm told they repeated the process a few hours later.

    Meanwhile, I'm still mulling over just how I plan to attack the A-10A paint job–I did a little repair work where the seams popped open, and I re-attached the parts that came off.  Some of the seams needed to be re-filled and sanded, so that got done a few nights ago.  I took some time this evening to continue dressing the seams with some 1800 and 2400 grit polishing pads, too.  A quick re-mask of the clear parts, and I'll be ready to try again…

    Meanwhile, a few comments on my "Thundering Jets" post of a few days ago: about the same time that I posted that article, Phil Friddell posted a piece on Monogram Models on his Replica In Scale blog.  I agree with Phil–Monogram was the best in the business back during their heyday.  The cockpit and other detailing was crisp, sharp, and accurate–careful painting was the only "detail set" you needed.  Sure, the panel lines were of the raised variety–and we didn't care.  We were used to them being that way on every kit–Monogram's were usually more petite than the others.  One thing that I don't like is that these days, the Revell reissues of Monogram's classics are molded in a different plastic.  Monogram used to have a semi-hard, very shiny plastic that took paint well and could be polished very easily when it had to be (buffable metallics, anyone?).  Back in the day, an article in FineScale Modeler answered the question–Monogram added a larger proportion of clear styrene beads to their mix than the other manufacturers did, yielding that shiny plastic.  These days, the Chinese companies that are molding the kits seem to add more vinyl to the mix, making the plastic softer.  And, for whatever reason, the fit is not as good as it once was.  The A-10A I'm working on is a Revell reissue, and while Monogram's original was no Nobel Prize for Well-Fitting Model Kits recipient, the Revell reissue seemed to fit even worse.  These days, I'd rather buy an original Monogram issue of a kit second-hand than a Revell reissue.  Still, though, Revell-Monogram kits are still a very good product for the money.  And, if you are interested in 1/48th scale B-29's, F-102's and F-106's 9and many others), you go Monogram or you do scratchbuild.

    Be good to one another.  I bid you Peace.

     

     

  • Where does the time go?

    Since the Learjet departed our facility, I've had some time to actually sit down and do stuff–like start clearing out the model backlog on the workbench.  I'm Happy to report that I've had some success at doing so, and once I get some stuff completed, you'll get the full report right here.

    Meanwhile, we're hitting the e-books at work–the FAA requires a certain amount of recurrent training every year.  With the lull, I decided to get mine done and over with.  There's nothing like sitting for several days listening to presentations on Human Factors, Lockout/Tagout procedures, HAZMAT, and the like.  It keeps everyone happy, so in the end it is worth it.  I'm also lobbying for more specialized training this year, too–I'm a firm believer that you can't get enough training.

    I wish I had more to report, but in all honesty I started spend some time at the workbench, and before I knew it I had one airplane done, another painted and is now getting decals, and a third ready for paint.  Along with those, the StuG is really making progress now, and I found myself converting a 1996 NASCAR Monte Carlo kit–Monogram's early round-sided kit–into Dale Earnhardt's 1996 car from the Winston All-Star race.  When I originally bought the kit and decal sheet, it looked to be simple enough–until you research it out and discover that the actual car had the slab sides.  Oh, well, some sheet plastic, Bondo, and Squadron White putty solved that dilemma…

    Stay tuned.  I'm on a roll, and want to keep the momentum going.  I'll be at the workbench…

    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.