Musick In The Air

CLXXXIII

Ed Musick was happy to make it back to New York. The return flight of the Pan American Clipper II had been largely without incident, but he was glad to have gotten away from that impossible harbor at Pago Pago, from that utterly inadequate staging area at Kingman Reef, and from the Flying Gas Tank most of all. 

His report to Pan Am spelled it all out: The gasoline fumes, the dangerous landing conditions, the fuel leaking into the cabin during a fuel dump, the overheating engine, the necessity to turn off the electrical power. Pan Am immediately ran dye tests on the Pan American Clipper II and confirmed what Ed and his crew already knew, that during a fuel dump the vented gasoline streamed backward in the plane’s slipstream causing both liquid fuel and potentially explosive vapors to pass too close for comfort to the hot engine exhausts. Pan Am immediately banned S-42B fuel dumps on passenger flights and forwarded this recommendation to the FAA. 

When Ed heard that the Pan American Clipper II had been renamed Hong Kong Clipper and was slated to have its passenger interiors reinstalled before being assigned to the Manila-to-Hong Kong hop, he surely breathed a sigh of relief. Having proven that FAM 14 was possible if not efficacious in the Flying Gas Tank he must have hoped that one of the big M-130s would be assigned to cover it. Or maybe one of the Boeing 314s that were expected to arrive any day. For himself, he wanted to get back on the Orient Express, hopefully to be tapped soon for the prestigious Atlantic run which everyone knew now was coming.

Was he angry then, or just profoundly dismayed, when company scuttlebutt began circulating that the newly-named Hong Kong Clipper had been renamed again, this time as the Samoan Clipper?   

Upstairs on Lexington Avenue, Juan Trippe had cancelled the original plan to rip out her extra fuel capacity. Another S-42 could be assigned to Hong Kong (among the pilots the eventual Hong Kong Clipper was known as “Myrtle”).

Mr. Trippe, it was said, had decided to go ahead with the Auckland route despite all its shortcomings and Ed’s deep misgivings about the aircraft and the staging areas. In typical Juan Trippe fashion, he was already using his globe, push pins and string to map out a new route, this one through British-held Canton Island. Of course, he had no idea if the British would allow him landing rights there, but he would convince them. In the meantime, the Samoan Clipper could use the original survey route through Kingman Reef. And since Ed Musick was familiar with the route, he could command the Samoan Clipper.     

   

Of course, Juan Trippe said none of this to Ed Musick, delegating his Operations henchman Andre Priester to deliver the news to Ed. What, if anything, Ed said to Priester is not known --- both men were famous sphinxes. But Ed must have wondered if he’d made a mistake ignoring all the offers that had crossed his desk at home. 

 

Survivor

CLXXXII

Although Pan American Airways seemed fixated on developing only flying boats in the 1930s, it would be a mistake to think that landplanes were otherwise being ignored. 

To a very large extent, Pan Am put most of its energy behind the Consolidated Commodores, the Sikorsky “S” series and the Martin M-130s because in the years after Lindbergh crossed the Atlantic the big ships with wings were the only planes that had the range necessary to meet Pan Am’s passenger-service demands. They also obviated the need for expensive-to-maintain ground airports in remote and socio-politically unstable corners of the world. Thus, they fit like a glove with Pan Am’s mission as an international carrier.

As routes became more settled, however, and the aviation industry became more standardized, it became ever clearer that flying boats had a limited future.

Charles Lindbergh, whose opinion on all things aeronautical was gospel in the 1930s, was dubious about flying boats, seeing them as only a temporary expedient. People, he argued, naturally preferred to plant their feet on terra firma after a sky trip, not first walk across a floating dock or ride a rocking tender to shore.  Lindbergh’s understanding of the public mind in this instance was a definite if subtle force driving the passenger trade away from flying boats and toward landplanes.     

The Lockheed Electra Model 10 was introduced in 1934 to compete with the DC-2. A ten passenger airliner of which 149 were built, it saw wide use, especially outside the United States, but is most famous for being the plane Amelia Earhart was flying when she disappeared. Twelve survive, of which two are airworthy

Although the flying boats spoke to people of romance and mystery, they had been put into service for the most prosaic of reasons: Safety. In a time when landplanes had limited range, and more importantly, limited structural integrity --- corrugated tin geese with laminated wooden wings --- the big all-metal multiengined (as many as 12!) flying boats looked safer. They could, after all, take to the sea if they became unairworthy, and there were cases (in Europe and in the early ‘30s) where this happened: A Late flying boat watertaxied home a full 100 miles from its touchdown point to its intended destination; a Wal sailed home outfitted with improvised sailing tackle. But whether the 25-ton China Clipper flown by Ed Musick in 1936 could survive a forced landing in the South Pacific, whether it would maintain its waterproof integrity as it bobbed in mid-ocean waiting for rescue, or whether it could sail home on its own would never be known --- most likely, it was doubtful, especially in rough seas.

The Boeing 247 passenger plane was introduced in 1933 as competition for the DC-1. It was the first civilian aircraft to be all-metal, the first to feature monocoque construction, the first to have a fully cantilevered wing, the first to have fully-retractable landing gear and the first to have an autopilot. It’s major shortcoming was that everything it did the DC-3 did better. 75 were built. Five remain. This one is airworthy

Flying boats were always inherently fragile. They were too easily damaged. Their duralumin hulls were subject to direct damage in rough take-offs and landings. Unseen floating objects, even dense schools of fish, could lead to dramatic accidents. Saltwater was also exceptionally corrosive to aircraft metals and damaged wings, bolts, seams, and engine fittings indiscriminately. The ships thus needed constant repairs and were expensive to maintain.

The Boeing 247 could carry 10-12 passengers. Its passenger cabin had a high ceiling but was quite narrow

And, ironically enough, especially given that the earth is almost three-quarters covered by the sea, there were surprisingly few good flying boat landing sites. Landplanes could hopscotch continents, almost anywhere; flying boats were limited to the islands they could reach. As landplane range increased the need for flying boats decreased.  With an eye toward cost-effectiveness, airlines (even Pan Am) began exploring the idea of rugged, sturdy, and dependable landplanes.  

The Douglas Commercial (DC)-1 in TWA livery, December 1933. It could carry two crew and 12 passengers. Its LOA was 60 feet even, its wingspan 85 feet. Only one was built and it set records. Douglas made improvements, and released its next model as the DC-2

The death of Knute Rockne in the grisly Fokker Trimotor crash of 1931 spurred development of better aircraft. Douglas released its DC-1 prototype in 1933; the DC-1 was followed quickly by the DC-2 in 1934. The DC-2 could carry 14 passengers.

The Douglas DC-2 was a larger version of the DC-1. 199 were built; 20 survive today as air show and museum pieces. Many airlines, including Pan American, used the DC-2.  The U.S. Army took the design and turned it into the B-18 "Bolo" bomber

Although the DC-2 was successful, it suffered from range and ceiling limitations that impaired its usefulness as an airliner. Recognizing its shortfalls, Douglas redesigned the DC-2 into the DC-3.

The single most successful airliner ever introduced, the DC-3 has played many roles --- here it is host to a bevy of 1937 beauty pageant contestants. It also flies Catholic missionaries in the jungles of the Congo River Basin to this day

The typical DC-3 can carry anywhere from 21 to 32 passengers and two crew. It is 64’8” LOA with a 95’2” wingspan. She weighs 16,199 pounds empty and 25, 199 pounds fully laden. With two Wright R-1820 Cyclone 9-cyl. air-cooled radial piston engines or two Pratt & Whitney R-1830-S1C3G Twin Wasp 14-cyl. air-cooled two row radial piston engines, she can develop either a total of either 2200 or 2400 horsepower, and has a standard range of 1,500 miles. Her top speed is 230 miles per hour.

A Pan Am DC-3 in Santo Domingo, circa 1950. Rugged, basic, easily repaired, and beloved, many pilots assert that "the only replacement for a DC-3 is another DC-3." The tooth-rattling roughness of flight has inspired pilots to call the plane "a collection of parts flying in loose formation".  The downward pitch of its fuselage when on the ground has garnered the plane (and those who fly in it) the nickname of “taildraggers” (or a less-polite variant)

 

The DC-3 has been the world’s definitive passenger landplane from the date of its introduction in 1935. Outfitted with more powerful engines, increased wing tank capacity, and a much larger fuselage than the DC-2, the DC-3 fit the bill as a practical passenger airliner, a transcontinental sleeper, a cargo plane, and, during World War II, a combat support craft the C-47, delivering paratroops over drop zones. Every aircraft that has followed owes something to the DC-3.  

 

The Douglas DC-3 “DST”  (Douglas Sleeper Transport) configuration

The World War II Douglas C-47 Skytrain was a transport /cargo /all-around utility aircraft that was nothing more or less than a stripped-to-the-bones DC-3. This one is carrying paratroopers. No unit insignia is evident. Note the monocoque construction

The DC-3 was in production in one form or another between 1935 and 1950. A total of over 16,000 DC-3 variants have been built around the world. A significant number, at least 400, still operate commercially in a variety of roles, the oldest such plane dating to 1935. The ability of the plane to use short, unpaved runways makes it a necessity in the Third World’s backcountry.    

The EAA Vintage Aircraft Association lovingly restored this DC-3 to its Pan Am glory days in 2013. The non-standard interior is below

Survivor: 

The DC-3 in this photo still flies. It was built in the 1930s. All the Concorde Supersonic Transports were built in the early 1970s and were taken out of service in 2003. The DC-3 is 80 years old. The Concorde didn’t make it to thirty. 20 Concordes were constructed at a unit cost of about $50 million each. 16,000 DC-3s took to the skies at a cost of $175,000 each, original list price. And a well-used DC-3 is still a good bargain at $1.5 million cash on the barrelhead