Just over a month and a half after the first production Boeing 787 “Dreamliner” was delivered to the aircraft’s launch customer—Japan’s ANA—Boeing, in association with Air New Zealand, brought one of its Dreamliner test aircraft to New Zealand as part of a brief tour that also included Australia. The visiting aircraft, ZA001 (N787BA), has flown the highest number of hours of any of Boeing’s 787 test fleet; in just over 500 flights, it has amassed around 1,300 hours of the fleet’s total of just over 5,400 hours.

ZA001’s arrival in Auckland on 12 November came less than two years after it became the first 787 to fly—a historic event that took place on December 15 2009. Its arrival in New Zealand, after a non-stop flight direct from Seattle, marked the 787’s first public appearance in the southern hemisphere, so it was not surprising that Aucklanders turned out in their thousands to witness the aircraft’s arrival.

Air New Zealand played a willing and helpful host to literally thousands of invited visitors keen to see the new aircraft first hand. Groups of 100 guests at a time took turns poring over the Dreamliner at Air New Zealand’s engineering facility during the two days the aircraft was made available to visitors.

Because ZA001 is still fully involved in the 787 test programme, its interior was filled with instruments, ballast tanks and test equipment rather than a standard airline configuration. While its interior might not have been a luxury showpiece, this did not deter guests from peering, prodding, poking, touching, looking and admiring every other aspect of this beautiful airliner.

Accompanying the Dreamliner to this part of the world was Boeing’s 787 programme’s vice president and chief project engineer, Michael Sinnet. Like a proud father introducing a newborn child, Mr Sinnet appeared to relish his host’s role as he introduced his carbon-fibre “child” to the throngs of visitors.

Also present to meet and greet visitors passing through the aircraft was Air New Zealand’s chief pilot, Captain David Morgan. Captain Morgan was aboard the Dreamliner during its journey from Seattle and flew it during the takeoff from Seattle and upon arrival at Auckland where he also landed the aircraft.

I asked Captain Morgan—who regularly flies Air New Zealand’s Boeing 777s—how the 787 compared to the triple-seven. From a “hands-on” flying perspective, he said the 787 was “absolutely identical” in terms of “feel” and control response to the 777. He was quick to point out that he considers this to be an excellent achievement on Boeing’s part, because of the fact that the 777 is such a beautiful aircraft to fly.

Despite some obvious visible differences in cockpit layouts between the 787 and its older brother 777, Captain Morgan was full of praise for the way everything had been integrated so seamlessly in the 787 that he had been able to slot naturally into the pilot’s seat (albeit alongside two Boeing test pilots) without having yet completed a 787 training programme. Strong commonality between types in a fleet is a significant asset to airlines, as it reduces the time required to undergo conversion training. As everyone in the industry knows, time really is money—lots of money—as far as airline training is concerned.

Captain Morgan’s enthusiasm for the new aircraft was not limited to his opinion as a pilot. As a senior manager within Air New Zealand, he appreciates fully that the 787’s fuel-efficiency and reduced maintenance requirements (expected to require around 30% less maintenance than current airliners) will have a big impact on Air New Zealand’s bottom line as soon as the aircraft can be brought into service.

When announcing the Dreamliner’s visit, Air New Zealand’s CEO, Rob Fyfe, also stressed the 787’s fuel efficiency—up to 20% better than existing types—and its ability to carry up to 50% more cargo than other airliners of comparative size. “We’re looking forward to seeing the 787 in our skies for the first time,” he said.

ZA001 is a 787-8. Air New Zealand has ordered the larger 787-9 variant, which will have a greater range capability and seating capacity than the 787-8.

As has been reported often throughout the 787’s development process, the Dreamliner is the world’s first (predominantly) composite airliner. Its carbon-fibre construction confers a number of significant advantages on the Dreamliner, including:

• its carbon-fibre structure is stiffer and has a higher strength-to-weight ratio than aluminium and permits a greater cabin pressure differential. The 787 will operate with a cabin altitude of 6,000 feet—compared to 8,000 feet typically in current airliners. Two thousand feet might not seem like much, but during a typical long distance flight, the increased partial pressure of oxygen at 6,000 feet has a major beneficial effect on physical wellbeing.
• Not only does the carbon-fibre permit a greater pressure differential and thus lower cabin altitude, but also, the fact that carbon-fibre does not corrode allows a more naturally humid cabin atmosphere to be maintained. This also benefits the aircraft’s occupants by preventing the unpleasant dehydration typically experienced in dry, air-conditioned cabins during long airline flights at altitude.
• The strength of the structure allows for significantly larger windows that will confer a more “open” feel to the cabin and a greater sensation of flight for passengers; it will reduce the feeling of being “cooped up in a tube” during long flights.

It is not just the Dreamliner’s composite design (around 80% composite by volume and 50% by weight) that is revolutionary. Boeing took a number of brave steps by introducing several new technologies simultaneously in its design. One of the biggest “step changes” in the 787 is the proliferation of electrical systems to replace “conventional” hydraulic or pneumatic systems. For example, the 787 uses electrical power to: operate its brakes (otherwise, universally hydraulically powered in other types); operate its air conditioning systems (conventional airliners use engine bleed-air); and provide wing de-icing (conventionally done with engine bleed air).

Electrical generation is beefed up significantly to cope with the additional loads involved—made possible by lighter, higher powered electrical generators. In addition, new, more advanced batteries provide better storage than older systems; the 787 is even capable of braking from a V₁ rejected takeoff using battery power alone.

Amongst the many technological “goodies” introduced with the 787 are head-up displays (HUD) for the pilots as standard equipment. Consideration is being given to the possibility of integrating forward looking infrared into the HUD in future, which would give pilots the ability to “see” through clouds.

There will be two engine options for Dreamliner operators; either the Rolls Royce Trent 1000 or the General Electric GEnx. Both are new technology engines that contribute significantly to the overall fuel-efficiency improvements expected of the 787, as well as producing around 20% fewer emissions than existing engines; Air New Zealand has ordered Rolls Royce engines for its 787s.

While non-enthusiasts might have difficulty telling many modern airliners apart, the Dreamliner will be instantly recognisable by its smoothly contoured nose and the distinctive “chevrons” at the rear of its giant engine cowlings (Boeing’s new 747-8 also features similar cowlings). This Boeing cowling design has proved effective in reducing engine noise.

The combination of its nose contour, aggressive looking engine cowlings and truly beautiful wings make the Dreamliner look like the new-technology aeroplane it is. The addition of its beautiful blue Boeing livery turned ZA001—certainly in this viewer’s eyes—into an aeronautical work of art; it was a joy to finally see the real aircraft in the flesh.

Having visited Boeing’s Asian suppliers, read scores of articles and books about the 787 and seen dozens of artist’s renditions of the aircraft in countless liveries and configurations, it was pretty special to be able to finally touch the real thing. Although admittedly not for the same reasons, I definitely share the desires of Rob Fyfe and Captain David Morgan for the 787 to enter Air New Zealand’s fleet; in my case, I simply can’t wait to see Dreamliners become common sights Downunder.

Training tomorrow’s warriors is what the 23rd Flying Training Squadron at Fort Rucker, Alabama, is all about. Pacific Wings joined the squadron to see how the US Air Force trains its future helicopter pilots using the UH-1H Iroquois and TH-1H Huey II.

The early days

The inception of military helicopter pilot training can be traced back to January 1944, when the US Army Air Forces (USAAF) initiated its helicopter training programme at Freeman Field near Seymour, Indiana. By June 1944, the helicopter training school received its first Sikorsky R-4 helicopters—the first mass-produced helicopter and the very first helicopter in service with the USAAF.

Following the establishment of the United States Air Force (USAF) in 1947, it was agreed that the Air Force would continue to provide helicopter training for both Air Force and Army pilots through the USAF Helicopter School. By this time, the R-4 had already been replaced by the Bell 47 or H-13 Sioux. In the early 1950s, the US Army opened its own helicopter flight training school at Fort Sill, Oklahoma, and, in 1956, the Air Force ceased training Army helicopter pilots altogether. During this time, the H-13 remained the basic training helicopter, supplemented by the Sikorsky H-19 Chickasaw and the Piasecki H-21 Shawnee.

In the 1960s, these helicopters were replaced by the Bell UH-1F, the Kaman H-43 and the Sikorsky CH-3C, representing the helicopters used by the USAF for special operations, firefighting and aerial rescue. As a cost-cutting measure, the Air Force started to investigate the possibility of outsourcing its Specialised Undergraduate Pilot Training—Helicopter (SUPT—H) to the Army, while retaining the Air Force-specific combat search and rescue (CSAR) and Special Operations training.

In October 1970, the first Air Force student pilots reported to Fort Rucker, Alabama, to undertake basic helicopter training with the Army. This marked the beginning of the end for the Air Force Helicopter School, which ceased to exist in 1971.

Helicopter training returns

Although the 23rd Flying Training Squadron (FTS) had been training Air Force students since 1994, the training programme was owned and operated by the US Army. The Air Force students followed the Army’s Rotary Wing Qualification Course before attending the “Air Force-unique” training that taught helicopter operations specific to the Air Force.

This all changed in 2004, when the Air Force retook ownership of its helicopter training programme. The change of ownership coincided with the Army’s announcement of the retirement of the UH-1H. As the Army had no further use for these helicopters, 40 were handed over to the Air Force at no cost. In the training role, the UH-1H has been gradually replaced with the TH-67 Creek (Bell 206B-3 JetRanger). The “Flat Iron” air ambulance detachment was the last Army unit to fly the UH-1H at Fort Rucker but these aircraft, too, were retired on 17 May 2011 and were replaced by the new UH-72A Lakota (Eurocopter EC 145).

“It was a sensible move,” says Captain Steve Reagan, the 23rd FTS Assistant Director of Operations. “While both operate helicopters, the Air Force flies different missions from the Army, in particular CSAR, Special Operations and Missile Wing support. We also operate different types, like the HH-60G, the UH-1N and the CV-22. The Army operates none of these specific types. So when our primary training helicopter, the UH-1H, was retired from the Army, it made sense for the Air Force to take the training programme back.”

Taking full control of the entire training programme allows the Air Force to create an even more efficient programme, tailored specifically to the needs of its student pilots, as Captain Reagan explains. “When our students arrive here at Fort Rucker, they already have flying experience. Before coming here, the students first go through primary aircraft training on the T-6 Texan II where they learn basic airmanship, instruments, navigation and formation flying. For the Army students, their helicopter training will be their first flying experience. It is a very different approach.”

Although the joint training programme came to an end, the 23rd FTS remains at Fort Rucker, which is the Army’s primary flight training facility. The large complex includes no fewer than six different airfields, including Cairns Army Air Field where the 23rd FTS is located. There have been several discussions about moving the squadron to Kirtland Air Force Base, New Mexico, to centralise all the Air Force helicopter training.

“These discussions keep surfacing from time to time,” says Captain Reagan, “but Fort Rucker is a great location for basic helicopter training. Because we are at sea level, the UH-1Hs are easy to fly in these thick air conditions, which create a more forgiving environment than the hot and high conditions at Kirtland, where the high altitudes and the hot conditions make flying a lot more challenging for the students. While I am certain they would cope just fine, it would increase their workload significantly. And besides, it is very valuable for them to experience the difference between flying conditions in Alabama and New Mexico. It will help them prepare for any future deployments in places like Afghanistan.”

Fellow instructor pilot Captain Derek Spears agrees. “Fort Rucker has all the facilities we need. Besides all the facilities here at Cairns, we also use the many remote training areas or RTs. That’s what they call the landing zones that are spread around Fort Rucker. There are 47 of these and they come in different shapes and sizes. Some are plain fields; others are located on hillsides and slopes, or in tight enclosures in forest areas. There are concrete pads and areas with sand to train brown-out landings. Everything we need is right here.”

Although the training mission has moved from the Army back to the Air Force, the 23rd FTS still enjoys wholehearted support from the Army’s aviation community. The “Flat Iron” detachment and other units provide logistical support when required and the 23rd FTS is firmly established in the Fort Rucker community. The privilege to use the Army’s extensive training facilities at Fort Rucker is a key factor in the squadron’s ability to train the next generation of first-class pilots.

Inspiring leadership

The 23rd FTS, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Stephen Moyes, is a well-oiled machine that delivers a constant stream of highly motivated and skilled pilots. To ensure that all students receive the right amount of attention, the squadron divides the students into small classes of four to seven students each. At the time of writing, the squadron was training 31 students, divided over six classes, with each class at different phases of the 115-hour long training programme. From start to finish, it would take the students about six to seven months to graduate.

The 23rd FTS delivers just 65 to 70 new pilots per year, reflecting the small size of the helicopter community within the Air Force. With an increasing number of students expressing a desire to fly helicopters and tilt-rotors, students must compete for the small number of available training slots.

“The Air Force is putting more emphasis on the helicopter mission, with positive results,” says Captain Reagan. “Today, far more recruits in basic training are aware that the Air Force has helicopters. News coverage of helicopter operations in Iraq and Afghanistan certainly has helped. During the cross-country navigation phase of the training, we also fly to Laughlin and Columbus to visit the training wings there. We present the helicopter missions to the students in primary aircraft training, do a static display with our TH-1Hs and answer a lot of questions. There has been a tremendous uptake in interest and there is a real competition for our training slots. The students that arrive here at Fort Rucker are very happy they made it into the programme. They are highly motivated and very enthusiastic, and they raise the bar every year.”

Once the students arrive at Fort Rucker, they are absorbed into the small, tight knit helicopter community and supported by the instructor pilots who generously share their experiences with them. The 23rd FTS has 20 military instructor pilots, with four more experienced pilots undergoing pilot instructor training. Additionally, URS Corporation provides another 11 instructor pilots, many of whom previously served within the armed forces. Together, the instructors create an atmosphere of support and motivation for the students, which has been a key factor in the success of the 23rd FTS, as Captain Reagan explains: “We really want all of our students to succeed and graduate—the Air Force has a strong need for skilled pilots. In Hollywood movies, pilot training is often portrayed as a constant effort to wash out students, but that is not us. We do everything to support our students. Since 2005, only three students were not able to complete the programme, for different reasons.”

The instructors come from all corners within the Air Force and the wider armed forces. Between them, they have accumulated an impressive number of flight hours, with extensive experiences across the full palette of military helicopter operations, including many wartime CSAR and special operations missions.

For example, Lieutenant Colonel Denehan, the Director of Operations (DO), flew CSAR missions during Operation Allied Force over former Yugoslavia. In May 1999, Lt. Col. Denehan, together with Lt. Col. Kunkel, the current Squadron Commander of the 41st RQS at Moody AFB, rescued a downed American F-16 fighter pilot from behind enemy lines in Serbia. This Fighting Falcon pilot was none other than Major General Goldfein, who commanded the 555th Fighter Squadron at the time of Operation Allied Force and is now the director of air and space operations at Air Combat Command.

Lieutenant Colonel Dermody flew covert missions with the MH-53J Pave Low III while serving with the 20th Special Operation Squadron, a legendary Air Force Special Operations helicopter squadron that new operates the new CV-22 Osprey. Lieutenant Colonel Jones flew helicopters with the US Army before flying the UH-1N with the Air Force Space Command at Vandenberg Air Force Base, California. Major McIntyre flew the UH-1N and the HH-60G before becoming an instructor pilot on the T-6 Texan II. He was offered a position with the 6th SOS, an elite training squadron within the Air Force Special Operations Command, but opted to become an instructor with the 23rd FTS instead. Every single one of the more than 30 instructors at the 23rd FTS has an equally interesting background in military aviation.

First contact

The 23rd FTS currently operates 13 UH-1H Iroquois and 19 TH-1H Huey II helicopters. When the Air Force received the Huey helicopters from the Army, it contracted Bell Helicopter to upgrade 24 of them to the new TH-1H Huey II standard. Bell Helicopter not only rebuilds the helicopters to a near zero-hour state, but also fits a more powerful engine and a completely digital glass cockpit, squeezed into the streamlined Bell 212 nose. The squadron expects to receive the final three—which are currently being produced in the Bell Helicopter facility at Ozark, some 25 kilometres east of Fort Rucker—in April 2012.

Before the students can actually take to the skies in a Huey, they must first get through the Academics phase, in which they thoroughly study both the UH-1H and TH-1H. In passing this phase, the students become familiar with the electrical, hydraulic and fuel systems, the engines and power train, the flight control and rotor systems, and the avionics of both helicopter types.

Finally, the students can then get their first taste of rotary flight, which is very different from flying the T-6 Texan II, according to Major McIntyre. “Even for me, it was quite an adjustment to go back to helicopters after having flown the T-6 for so long. With the T-6, you get so used to flying at high altitude where things just happen at a very different pace. But in the Huey, the flying takes place at 500 feet or less and that’s quite a challenge. The T-6 is a much faster aircraft but you usually fly the Huey at tree top level, and that’s where things happen very, very quickly.”

In the Contact and Emergency Procedure phase, the students start the actual flying part of the training programme. During this phase, the students are taught the basics of flying the UH-1H, including taxi procedures, takeoffs and landings, and hovering. But the Emergency Procedure training is arguably the most important phase, in which the students are taught how to deal with any emergency that might occur in flight or on the ground. By constant repetition, the instructors ensure that these lifesaving procedures become second nature. Throughout the entire programme, students are asked to recite emergency procedures during each briefing. Failure to provide a satisfactory answer will immediately result in an unsatisfactory grade, even before the students have climbed into the cockpit.

Upping the ante

Having successfully completed the Contact and Emergency Procedure phase, the students then move onto the TH-1H, which they fly for the remainder of the programme. The transition process includes a couple of days of classroom study and flying time in the state-of-the-art full motion TH-1H simulator.

The transition process helps students to get acquainted with the new digital cockpit, which is very different from the analogue UH-1H. Whereas the UH-1H uses an array of dials and gauges, the TH-1H displays all the important flight information onto three large multi-functional displays (MFD). The TH-1H received a digital cockpit to ease the transition from the T-6 Texan II into new generation aircraft such as the CV-22 Osprey and the future replacement of the HH-60G and UH-1N.

But despite its rudimentary cockpit and lack of power, students like Lt. Mark Foyle of Class 11-09 cherish the opportunity to fly the UH-1H Iroquois. “I started out flying the UH-1H and it is a real classic—probably the best-known helicopter in the world. I am very happy I got to fly it. Each Huey out there on the flight line is different. There are ones I liked to fly and others I didn’t like as much. The new TH-1H is very different, though—all digital and a lot more power. Almost too much power, as we usually only carry three people. After moving onto the TH-1H, we do not get to fly the UH-1H any more, which is a shame because it is such a legendary helicopter.”

Having completed the transition onto the TH-1H, the training programme continues with the Instruments and Cross-Country Navigation phases. Despite being equipped with MFDs, the TH-1H is purposely not equipped with a moving map display, as students must learn to navigate without any digital assistance.

In the subsequent Day Remote phase, the students have to combine their previously learned skills to navigate to unfamiliar landing sites or Remote Training areas. Once the site has been located, the students must evaluate it while airborne to determine if and how they can land safely. This involves considering the wind, elevation, temperature, pressure altitude, power requirements, the approach path, the size and slope of the landing area, the touchdown point and an escape route. Mastering these procedures is important, as they are integral parts of the search and rescue (SAR) missions performed by both the UH-1N and HH-60G. Sometimes, the instructor pilots simulate a rescue operation by tasking the students to retrieve a person from a location that is completely unfamiliar to them.

The Day Remote phase is followed by the Day Tactical phase, during which the students are gradually introduced to the concepts of tactical helicopter operations. First, the students are introduced to flying in a low-level environment. Although familiar with the TH-1H at altitude, the students will have to adapt to flying constantly below 300 feet AGL. The students are taught to constantly scan for any threats and perform simulated cargo pickups at different landing zones. After flying the Day Tactical single-ship solo flight, the students practise formation flights at or above 300 feet AGL before performing formation flights at lower altitudes.

With the Day Remote and Day Tactical phases behind them, the students enter the final and most demanding phases of the training programme, the Night Remote and Night Tactical training sorties. Already challenging in broad daylight, the students must now master the same Remote and Tactical operations in total darkness, aided by night vision goggles (NVG). To graduate, the students only have to pass the Night Tactical Single Ship check rides. The nocturnal training phase also includes two non-graded tactical formation flights to introduce the students to NVG formation flying.

After completing these exciting night flights, the students can graduate and finally get to wear their wings. After mastering the T-6 Texan II in basic training and both the UH-1H and TH-1H at Fort Rucker, the students can finally call themselves pilots. But despite wearing their wings, there is still more learning ahead of them before they can join their operational squadrons.

Pick your aircraft

During the later stages of the training programme, students are asked to list their preference for the UH-1N, HH-60G Pave Hawk or CV-22 Osprey. During the Navigation phase, the students get to make cross-country flights to Moody AFB in Georgia and Hulbert Field in Florida to get acquainted with the Pave Hawk and the Osprey. The students are ranked by their achievements, with the best students getting to pick the aircraft or helicopter type they would like to fly, although the needs of the Air Force are ultimately the deciding factors.

Among the students of Class 11-07, the most senior class of the course, the preferences and opinions varied across the board. The students in this class were going through the Night Remote training at the time of the writer’s visit and had just been asked to list their aircraft of choice.

Second Lt. Patrick Mount wanted nothing more than to fly the HH-60G Pave Hawk, whereas 2nd Lt. Ryan Springer listed the CV-22 Osprey as his first choice. Second Lt. Ben Soifer actually had no preference as to what he flew and was happy to fly whatever the Air Force handed him. Only 2nd Lt. Tyler Gibson knew for certain that he would fly the HH-60G Pave Hawk with the 129th Rescue Wing of the California Air National Guard. Unlike the active duty Air Force, both the Air National Guard and the Air Force Reserve directly recruit their aircrew for the specific aircraft they operate. These students know from the very beginning what aircraft they will get to fly after graduation.

When asked how the students of Class 11-07 reflected on their time with the 23rd FTS, 2nd Lt. Ben Soifer said, “For me, it has been an incredible transition. At first, when trying to hover in the daytime, the helicopter was all over the place. But now I am doing it in the dark, wearing NVG!” Second Lt. Ryan Springer adds, “When I first came here, I didn’t even know how a helicopter flew. But during the Academics phase, your eyes really open. Then you get into the cockpit for the first time. Fortunately, the Huey is very forgiving and the instructors are so experienced that it makes the transition easier when coming from fixed-wing. After a couple of weeks, you finally get somewhat of a handle on the flying and hovering, and here we are now, flying at night, at low level and navigating and all. It’s incredibly exciting; it is very cool stuff!”

After graduation

After receiving their wings, the students are finally referred to as pilots. But they must still undergo training on the aircraft assigned to them. For all SUPT-H graduates, this training starts with the 58th Operations Group at Kirtland AFB, New Mexico. Depending on the aircraft type assigned to them, the new pilots will join the 71st Special Operations Squadron (SOS) for CV-22 training or the 512th Rescue Squadron (RQS) for training on the UH-1N and HH-60G.

As the graduates are already familiar with the Huey, the UH-1N training only takes three months. Transitioning onto the HH-60G Pave Hawk, a much larger and more complex helicopter, takes between six and seven months. But the transition period for the CV-22 Osprey takes over a year, as the pilots must familiarise themselves with the new phenomenon of tilt-rotor operations. The Osprey training also takes place with the US Marine Corps at New River, North Carolina.

But before the pilots can report to Kirtland AFB, they must first tackle the Air Force Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape (SERE) School at Fairchild AFB, Washington. At the SERE School, the pilots are taught the skills that enable them to survive in all climates, including woodcraft, wilderness survival techniques, emergency first aid, land navigation, camouflage techniques, methods of evasion and communication protocols.

They are also taught how to resist the enemy when captured and how to escape. A lot of the training material is based on the actual experiences of American and Allied airmen shot down or captured during the Second World War, Korea, Vietnam and the Gulf War.

Return to Fort Rucker

After completing their helicopter training with the 23rd FTS, the students of Class 11-07 and 11-09 leave southern Alabama to conduct their follow-on training with the 58th Operations Group in New Mexico and the SERE School in Washington. But after serving with their squadrons for several years, some may return to Fort Rucker to become flight instructors like Captain Steve Reagan. Like the other instructors at the 23rd FTS, his passion and experience are a daily inspiration for his students, and he enjoys every minute he gets to teach others the art of rotary flight.

“SUPT-H for me was a blast. I showed up to pilot training (T-37s at Columbus AFB, MS) wanting to fly helicopters. I wanted to fly CSAR in the HH-60G Pave Hawk. Flying at Fort Rucker during SUPT-H was probably one of my top experiences during my career. From day one, it was a great and valuable course. The instructors, both URS and Air Force active duty, were excellent and provided me the instruction and skills needed to go fly the HH-60G, and to perform in challenging environments and situations. I still use techniques today in the helicopter that I learned while here as a student. I would brag to my friends going through T-38s and T-1s all the time about flying at night on NVGs during pilot training—they were so jealous!

“I graduated from SUPT-H in May of 2005. I was lucky to get my first choice, which was the HH-60G Pave Hawk. I completed initial qualification in the HH-60G at Kirtland AFB in December of 2005 and arrived at Moody AFB in the same month. I was stationed at Moody AFB for four years and eight months. During my time at Moody, I upgraded to Aircraft Commander and Flight Lead in the HH-60G. I deployed five times—three times to Iraq and twice to Afghanistan—and I did pretty much every mission that falls under Personnel Recovery (CSAR, MedEvac, CasEvac, humanitarian aid and relief). I also participated in the recovery of unmanned aerial vehicles and support of the President of the United States. I moved to Fort Rucker in September of 2010 and completed my instructor upgrade in the TH-1H. I have been flying with students ever since.”

Future proof

Helicopters and tilt-rotors are firmly established within the Air Force and will be part of the inventory for the foreseeable future, as will the CSAR, Special Operations, distinguished visitor transport and missile wing support missions. As such, the Air Force will have a continuous need for highly skilled pilots. Having retaken ownership of the basic helicopter training, the Air Force has been able to fully optimise the training programme, from primary aircraft training on the T-6 Texan II to mission-specific training on the CV-22, HH-60G and the UH-1N.

The 23rd FTS plays a crucial role in this chain, by converting students into educated, experienced and skilful helicopter pilots. The success of the 23rd FTS is not merely a result of classroom training, but also of the supporting and inspiring environment that is created by the squadron commander and the senior instructors. This environment ensures that students feel supported and motivated to succeed, despite the steep learning curve and the many challenges they must overcome.

With the TH-1H Huey II, the 23rd FTS has the right training platform for the years to come. The TH-1H is a reliable, powerful and forgiving helicopter that provides an excellent introduction into the art of rotary aviation. The TH-1H is also an extremely cost-effective solution, especially when considering the Air Force received the original UH-1H airframes at no cost. The Huey II upgrade not only delivers a modern, powerful training platform but also achieves a significant reduction in maintenance costs. Thanks to the 23rd FTS and the TH-1H, the iconic Huey sound will be heard over Fort Rucker for many years to come.

23rd Flying Training Squadron

The 23rd Flying Training Squadron is the sole unit within the United States Air Force that provides basic helicopter training, which is referred to as Specialised Undergraduate Pilot Training—Helicopter (SUPT—H). All UH-1N Twin Huey, HH-60G Pave Hawk and CV-22 Osprey pilots will have passed through the 23rd FTS at Fort Rucker, Alabama. The squadron is commanded by Lt. Col. Stephen R. Moyes, who took command in July 2010, having previously been the Director of Operations for the 94th Flight Training Squadron at the US Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. The 23rd FTS current Director of Operations is Lt. Col. Denehan, assisted by Capt. Reagan as the Assistant Director of Operations.

The 23rd FTS reports into the 58th Operations Group and 58th Special Operations Wing (SOW) at Kirtland Air Force Base in New Mexico. The 58th SOW provides undergraduate, graduate and refresher training for the combat search and rescue, special operations, missile site support and distinguished visitor transportation missions. As a training wing, the 58th SOW falls under the Air Education and Training Command (AETC) rather than the Air Force Special Operations Command (AFSOC), despite being a special operations wing.

The 23rd FTS can celebrate its 70th anniversary this year, as the squadron originates from the 76th Bombardment Squadron (Medium), which was activated on the 15th January 1941 and operated various bombers before joining the war in Europe in 1944 as the 23rd Troop Carrier Squadron. The squadron was deactivated in 1946 but made a brief return as the 23rd Helicopter Squadron in 1956, flying the H-21 Shawnee until 1958.

The Vietnam conflict saw the reactivation of the squadron in 1966, as the 23rd Tactical Air Support Squadron (TASS). The 23rd TASS operated as Forward Air Controllers out of Thailand, flying the O-1F Bird Dog, the O-2 Skymaster and ultimately the OV-10 Bronco. The pilots of the 23rd TASS operated over the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos, marking targets for air strikes and supporting rescue operations of downed airmen. The 23rd TASS participated in several high profile operations including the rescue of Lt. Col. Hambleton, better known as “Bat 21 Bravo”.

During Operation Desert Storm, the 23rd TASS deployed to Saudi Arabia with its OA-10 Thunderbolt II aircraft. Although the A-10 was designed as a tank killer, the squadron operated the Warthog in the “Fast FAC” role over Kuwait and Iraq. After only three years of A-10 operations, the 23rd TASS was deactivated in November 1991. The squadron was reactivated at Fort Rucker in 1994 as the 23rd Flying Training Flight, before being redesigned as the 23rd Flying Training Squadron on 21 December 1999.

The Bell Huey II—more than just an upgrade

The Huey II upgrade transforms the UH-1H Iroquois into a modern, powerful and practically zero-hour helicopter with excellent performance. Although the TH-1H is essentially a modified UH-1H, the Huey II is a much more capable helicopter and is also a lot cheaper to operate.

The Huey II is fitted with a T53-L-703 engine that delivers 1,800 shaft horsepower—400 hp more than the T53-L-13B that powers the UH-1H. The time between overhauls (TBO) for the upgraded engine has been increased from 1,100 to 5,000 hours. An increased TBO means significant cost savings, as it allows the helicopter to fly much longer before undergoing an expensive overhaul.

The main transmission is rebuilt and upgraded to accommodate the more powerful engine, allowing for 1,290 shp on takeoff. The main transmission TBO is extended from 1,100 to 6,000 hours. The existing gearboxes are replaced by new 42-degree and 90-degree gearboxes, with an increased TBO from 1,500 to 5,000 hours.

The Huey II also receives the main rotor blades, tail rotor and tail boom from the Bell 212. The Bell 212 main rotor blades are larger and have a wider cord, resulting in increased lift. The Bell 212 tail rotor blades also have a wider cord and moving the tail rotor to the other side of the tail boom increases the tail rotor authority by 50%. The new tail boom uses push–pull control rods instead of cables, which also increases safety. All these Bell 212 parts are newly fabricated parts, and also include a brand new main rotor and tail rotor hub assembly, a new mast, new pitch change links and the addition of a KAflex drive shaft. Naturally, these new parts all have a much-improved TBO, with 4,000 hours for the main rotor blades and 2,500 hours for the tail rotor blades. The new main rotor mast TBO has been increased tenfold, from 1,500 to 15,000 hours. The Huey II airframe also receives structural modifications, with a strengthened pylon support structure and a Bell 212 lift beam.

The Huey II supports the standard UH-1H nose or the Bell 212 nose—the latter offering more space for a digital or glass cockpit. When fitting the heavier MFDs, the Bell 212 nose is also helpful for an improved centre of gravity. Bell Helicopter allows the customer to customise its Huey II upgrade, offering a wide range of options for cockpit systems and onboard equipment. The Air Force TH-1H is fitted with a completely digital cockpit, but other Huey II customers have opted for the more traditional analogue gauges instead, which are also overhauled or replaced when necessary. Regardless of the choice of cockpit displays, each Huey II is completely rewired and fitted with a new battery and generator.

Building the Huey II

The Bell Helicopter facility at Ozark, Alabama, is the home of the Huey II programme. Located close to Fort Rucker, the facility is not hard to miss, as one only needs to look out for the many UH-1H airframes parked on the ramp.

The Huey II manufacturing process takes places in two separate halls. The first step in the Huey II process is the removal of the original UH-1H tail boom. Only the front fuselage is used; the original tail boom is recycled for parts for existing UH-1H customers. Upon entering the first hall, the UH-1H front fuselage is completely stripped down for the Pre-Shop Analysis (PSA). During the PSA phase, the fuselage is sandblasted to remove any paint and then carefully inspected. The Bell engineers inspect every single rivet hole and every individual panel to determine if the fuselage is suitable for modification and note down any structural repair work that is required. It is not uncommon to find bullet holes and scars of battlefield repairs on airframes that served in Vietnam. All the retained parts are also carefully examined and marked for overhaul or replacement where necessary.

After the PSA phase, the fuselage is transported into the second hall, where it enters a loop track across all the different stations. At the first stations, all the PSA repairs are carried out. Then the fuselage receives its structural modifications, the new lift beam and the new attachment fittings and support structure to accommodate the new Bell 212 tail boom. Upon reaching the end of the hall, the UH-1H fuselage is ready to receive the new tail boom and rotors, and the new dynamic components. While passing through several stations, the new Huey II helicopter starts taking shape and slowly transforms from an empty airframe to a complete helicopter. Along the way, the engineers also fit the new wiring, battery and generator.

As part of the final assembly, the helicopter is painted in the customer’s colour scheme and is then transported back to the first production hall. Here, the Huey II modification is completed by installing the new T53-L-703 engine and completing the cockpit installation. In case of the TH-1H, the MFDs were supplied by the Air Force, but the cockpit configuration can be customised for each customer and ranges from a full digital cockpit to an analogue cockpit, supplemented with GPS, moving map or other digital systems. After almost a year of hard work, the UH-1H has been transformed into a brand new Huey II helicopter, featuring more than 14,000 new parts.

Value for money

The complete Huey II package transforms the UH-1H from a reliable but dated workhorse into a modern utility helicopter, fit for duty in the most challenging environments and the increased performance gives the Huey II much better “hot and high” capability. The older The UH-1H performs very well at sea level but struggles at altitude: it can operate at 12,000 feet but with a significantly reduced payload. By comparison, the Huey II has been designed to meet those high altitude challenges and has a service ceiling of 16,100 feet and an IGE hover of 12,000 feet.

At approximately US$5.2 million, the basic Huey II is an affordable option for many existing UH-1H operators. Although this version does not come with a digital cockpit, it does include new gauges. Adding a full digital cockpit will cost an additional US$237,000, but there are practically no limits on the options customers can add to their Huey II configurations. The military police of Rio Janeiro, Brazil, requested a completely armoured Huey II that can withstand machine-gun fire, is fully night capable, and is equipped for SAR operations. This is no ordinary police unit, as it operates in the slums of Rio de Janeiro, one of the most lethal law enforcement environments in the world. To meet these demands, Bell Helicopter designed a Huey II with exceptional survivability for both helicopter and crew, while still retaining the ability to operate in mountainous and hot areas.

The Huey II has been well received by both new and existing Huey operators, and Bell has successfully sold the Huey II to military, law enforcement and government customers. Current domestic Huey II customers include NASA, the US Department of State, the US Customs and Border Protection agency and several law enforcement departments.

Internationally, the Huey II has been equally successful with customers including the Philippines Air Force; the Argentinean Army; the Colombian Army, Air Force and National Police; the Brazilian Military Police; the Armed Forces of Kazakhstan; the Yemeni Air Force and the Iraqi Air Force. The capability to operate in hot and high environments is proven by the daily operations with not only the Yemeni and Iraqi Air Force but also by being the helicopter of choice for the US Department of State anti-narcotics operations in Afghanistan.

The Japanese Ground Self Defence Force (JGSDF) operates the locally manufactured UH-1J, an upgraded Huey that is very similar to the Huey II. Built under license by Fuji, the UH-1J also features a T53-L-703 power plant, a Bell 212 nose and a Bell 212 tail boom.

(Would have been) the smart choice for New Zealand

Bell Helicopter claims that, compared to the standard UH-1H, the Huey II decreases operating costs by more than 30%. The increased TBO for all major components represents a noticeable reduction in maintenance costs while also increasing operational availability across the fleet. The added benefit for existing UH-1H operators is that neither aircrew nor technicians need extensive retraining, and existing maintenance equipment does not need to be replaced.

This could have made the Huey II a very appealing option for the Royal New Zealand Air Force (RNZAF), especially in the current economic climate. When fitted with a complete digital cockpit, a Huey II upgrade would cost approximately NZ$6.3 million. According to figures listed on the RNZAF website, this would be less than a tenth of the cost of a single NH90. The website lists a total package cost of NZ$771 million, with a third reserved for support and logistics. This leaves NZ$514 million for eight NH90 helicopters—or around $64 million each. According to the RNZAF website, the NH90 was selected to resolve three key issues with the existing UH-1H fleet: airframe fatigue problems (including fin spars and rotor blades), equipment obsolescence and limited performance in tropical conditions.

Upgrading the existing UH-1H fleet to the Huey II standard—complete with digital cockpit including GPS and a digital moving map, possibly an integrated FLIR and fitted with SAR equipment—would have resolved these key issues and would certainly have been a much cheaper solution than the NH90. The RNZAF’s extensive experience of operating, maintaining and supporting the UH-1H would have remained directly applicable to the Huey II. And, moreover, the RNZAF could have continued to operate many more than eight helicopters—for much less money.

Acknowledgements

The article would not have been possible without the tremendous support of the United States Air Force, the 58th SOW, the 23rd FTS and Bell Helicopter. The author would especially like to thank Lt. Col. Moyes, Lt. Col. Denehan, Lt. Col. Dermody, Lt. Col. Jones, Major McIntyre, Capt. Reagan, Capt. Spears, and the students of Class 11-09 and 11-09; and, at Bell Helicopter, Barry Ford, Bridget Hall and Mac McMillan.

For the first time since the 1999 intervention in Kosovo, the French Navy has found itself carrying out a large-scale combat operation. Henri-Pierre Grolleau reports from the deck of the Charles de Gaulle in the Gulf of Sirte.

Compared to the Kosovo crisis, a lot of things have changed for the French Navy (Marine nationale). The Foch has been sold to Brazil (as São Paulo). The outdated F-8P Crusader, the Etendard IVPM and the Alizé have all been withdrawn from service, while the Super Etendard has been modernised extensively and is now known as the Super Etandard Modernisé (SEM). Even more important has been the introduction of the Rafale multi-role fighter, the E-2C Hawkeye early warning aircraft and the Charles de Gaulle carrier. For the French Navy, all these changes have resulted in the creation of an extremely powerful, coherent and efficient power-projection tool equipped with the latest combat aircraft, precision weapons, satellite communication systems, tactical datalinks, and command and control networks.

Deployment orders

The French Navy was engaged from the very start in Libya to help evacuate French and European citizens; some of its surface vessels were sailing off the Libyan shores when the bombing campaign was launched. For the Charles de Gaulle, it all began on 17 March 2011 when the carrier received its deployment orders; three days later, it left its Toulon home base. The Charles de Gaulle’s captain, Jean-Philippe Rolland, said he was aware that when the ship returned from the Indian Ocean in February, it might be required to deploy again at short notice. Normally, the ship is held at five-day readiness, but with the onset of the Libyan crisis, it managed to sail in just under three days. According to Captain Rolland, the most complicated part of the preparations was to move all the support equipment and spare parts needed for the Rafales, the SEMs and the Hawkeyes from Landivisiau and Lann-Bihoué naval air stations. This was a massive logistical effort involving numerous heavy trucks. When the Charles de Gaulle departed on 20 March, it carried “a fairly standard ammunition allocation” but it received additional ammunition from the fleet replenishment vessel Meuse to refill its stocks after numerous firings.

The Charles de Gaulle’s carrier air group conducted its first operational missions over Libya on 22 March 2011. For the next five months, the vessel and its aircraft were very active during Opération Harmattan (the name given to its Libyan operation by the French; the UK called its operation Operation Ellamy, the Canadians called it Operation Mobile and the USA called its participation Operation Odyssey Dawn). Wave after wave of fighters and attack aircraft engaged hundreds of military targets during pre-planned attacks, and destroyed scores of armoured vehicles and artillery batteries. The Charles de Gaulle returned to its Toulon home base on 12 August 2011 after spending 138 days at sea—120 of them involving aeronautical activity. The carrier air group logged more than 3,600 flying hours in 1,350 offensive sorties in support of Opération Harmattan: 840 strike sorties by Rafales and SEMs, 390 reconnaissance sorties by Rafales, and 120 command and control sorties by Hawkeyes. In addition, Rafales and SEMs carried out 240 buddy–buddy refuelling sorties. These figures do not take into account the numerous helicopter sorties or the training sorties performed by Rafales, SEMs and Hawkeyes.

French Task Force

The French Task Force, TF473, was under the overall command of Rear-Admiral Philippe Coindreau, an experienced naval aviator who previously flew Atlantique 2 maritime patrol aircraft. The task force’s mission was to protect civilian populations and to ensure that the no-fly zone prescribed by UN resolution 1973 was respected. The French Naval Carrier Strike Group, comprising the Charles de Gaulle, its carrier air group and escort vessels, is an extremely efficient power-projection asset that is fully capable of conducting offensive operations. Tasking for the task force was conducted by the Combined Air Operation Centre in Italy. Rear Admiral Coindreau said that officers in the Combined Air Operation Centre who were in charge of establishing the Air Tasking Order were aware of Charles de Gaulle’s way of operating, and they took everything into account in order to adjust the takeoff and trapping times in order to match the ship’s launch and recovery cycles. All flights were planned carefully to reduce the risk of “blue on blue” engagements.

On average, Charles de Gaulle launched two or three waves a day towards Libya, including one at night. Rear-Admiral Coindreau said that this was not an “all-out effort” and added that the Charles de Gaulle could have increased its operational tempo significantly if required. The aim was to be able to remain deployed for an extended period, which was why the number of daily waves was relatively restricted. In addition to pacing the number of daily waves, the task force utilised one “no-fly” day every nine or ten days to give it some breathing space and allow essential maintenance to be carried out, such as maintaining the ship’s catapults. Organic training was kept at a strict minimum, but there were a few inexperienced pilots who were given the opportunity to log additional flying hours. All such training was conducted towards the north to ensure training flights did not enter the area of operation accidentally.

With so many countries involved, the intervention over Libya was (and is) quite complex. As soon as aircraft were catapulted from the Charles de Gaulle, they came under NATO command. However, individual French warships remained under national command. Rear-Admiral Coindreau said this was pretty similar to what France did in Kosovo and what it routinely does in Afghanistan. What was different for the French compared to their participation in Kosovo was the fact that in Kosovo, they only flew in daytime, whereas nearly half of the French missions over Libya were conducted at night. Furthermore, in Kosovo, they mainly dropped laser-guided bombs. This time, with significantly expanded offensive capabilities, French forces were able to utilise cruise missiles, laser-guided bombs and GPS-guided precision weapons. “These are major differences that clearly illustrate all the changes that the French Navy and the Aéronavale have gone through in less than ten years,” said Rear-Admiral Coindreau.

Blue water operations

During most of the mission in the Mediterranean Sea, the Charles de Gaulle’s carrier air group was split into ten Rafale multi-role fighters of Flottille 12F, six SEM strike fighters of Flottille 17F, two E-2C Hawkeye airborne early warning aircraft belonging to Flottille 4F, two Dauphin and one Alouette III search and rescue helicopters of Flottille 35F, and one Puma and two EC725 Caracal combat search and rescue (CSAR) helicopters of Escadron d’Hélicoptères 1/67 ‘Pyrénées’. In addition, there were a number or rotary assets spread among Marine nationale surface vessels: a Lynx anti-submarine helicopter aboard the duty anti-submarine frigate, two Panthers aboard the duty air-defence destroyer and stealth frigate, and an Alouette III light helicopter aboard the fleet replenishment vessel Meuse, which shuttled back an forth between France and the area of operation.

The Charles de Gaulle sailed within a Carrier Vessel Operating Area (CVOA)—a “box” in which it could launch and recover its aircraft freely. Although the carrier’s precise operating area was a well-kept secret, all of its fighters operated without any diversion, which meant that, had a problem occurred, they would not have been able to divert to Malta, Sicily, mainland Italy or Greece. As a result, organic tanking was a key mission for the Rafales and the SEMs of the carrier air group. During this author’s visit to the carrier, at least two Rafales and two SEMs were configured as buddy–buddy tankers, each with in-flight refuelling pods on their centreline pylons and drop tanks under their wings. One of these tankers was launched systematically before any recovery cycle, ready to give away fuel to any fighter that might encounter difficulties when attempting to trap back aboard the carrier, while another remained on standby, ready to be catapulted away should the situation get worse.

Reconnaissance

Reconnaissance was one of the key missions of the Charles de Gaulle’s carrier air group. With the advent of the Pod Reco NG (New Generation Reconnaissance Pod, also known on the export market as AREOS, for Airborne REconnaissance Observation System), which entered service in late 2010, the French Navy considers it is equipped with one of the best reconnaissance systems in the world. Thanks to the Pod Reco NG’s powerful dual band infrared/visible sensor mounted in a swivelling turret at the front end of the pod, the Rafale can remain outside the range of enemy air-defences, taking incredibly sharp pictures from standoff distances, by day and night. Similarly impressive is the capability to transmit all imagery taken during the mission in real time via a broadband datalink system that offers a 360-degree coverage. The highly directive data beam is extremely difficult to intercept, and all data can be encrypted for additional security. During its most recent refit, the Charles de Gaulle was fitted with a dedicated antenna optimised to collect all data sent by the Pod Reco NG. Aboard the carrier, highly specialised photo interpreters and intelligence officers can start reviewing and analysing the images as soon as the Rafales are within transmitting range.

Typically, the carrier launched two reconnaissance missions a day, one of them at night. Each mission, which photographed dozens of targets during the flight, was conducted by two aircraft, each of which was equipped with one Pod Reco NG, four MICA air-to-air missiles and two 2,000-litre drop tanks. During the sortie, everything possible was done to minimise the pilots’ workload and the pod, which was pre-programmed precisely before flight, pointed its main sensors at areas of interest automatically. As a consequence, the pilots could cover large areas in a limited amount of time while concentrating on the tactical situation and any potential surface-to-air or air-to-air threats. In addition, pilots also had a “target of opportunity” mode at their disposal that proved ideal in some circumstances. The pod is equipped with large data recording systems and, as a result, pilots say they never experienced any capacity issues, even with the Pod Reco NG “on” throughout an entire sortie.

Although, understandably, crews could not divulge precise details about the tactics they use, they were able to explain that the main advantage of flying in pairs is that each aircraft is able photograph the same target from different angles or directions and/or from different altitudes. Alternatively, they adjust the route they fly so that each fighter in the patrol photographs widely separated targets on each side. Because of the constant threat of small-arms fire in Libya, it is fair to assume that it is unlikely the Rafales flew at low-level. As a result, the infrared line scanner mounted at the rear of the Pod Reco NG, and optimised to take horizon-to-horizon imagery from very low altitudes, could only have proved useful for mapping.

Ground attack

Protecting the civilian population from Gaddafi’s government forces required precision strikes and in this role, the Charles de Gaulle’s SEMs and Rafales were extremely active, dropping hundreds of precision weapons each week. Exact numbers of weapons dropped are still classified; however, in a single day during the author’s visit aboard the carrier, the Rafales of Flottille 12F dropped no fewer than seven GBU-12 and AASM bombs. The fighters either conducted planned missions or were scrambled to provide additional firepower when required. The fact that the Charles de Gaulle was cruising not far away from the battle zone was an obvious advantage in reducing the reaction time significantly.

Flottille 17F SEMs mainly operated as hunter-killer teams, with the leader acting as a “spiker”, using its Damoclès laser-designator pod, while the wingman always flew as a bomber, carrying laser-guided bombs. During the author’s visit to the Charles de Gaulle, the SEMs were all fitted with LL5081 decoy dispensers with varying combinations of chaff and flares. In addition to their Damoclès laser-designator pods, the “spikers” also carried two 1,100-litre drop tanks under the wings but were unarmed. The bombers carried a more impressive load that comprised two LL5081 dispensers, one Barracuda jammer, one Magic 2 infrared-guided short-range air-to-air missile and two GBU-58 laser-guided bombs, plus a full load of 30 mm rounds for the two cannons. The GBU-58 is, in fact, a Paveway 2 kit mated to a BANG 125-kg bomb body. The 275 lb (125 kg) and 550 lb (250 kg) bodies in service with the Aéronavale were specifically designed by MBDA and SNPE (Société Nationale des Poudres et Explosifs; Explosives and Powders National Society) for service aboard the Charles de Gaulle.

The presence of two nuclear reactors aboard the carrier imposed the adoption of insensitive munitions that could resist external (accidental or deliberate) aggressions by fire, explosion or penetration by high velocity fragments. Called BANG/CBEMS (Bombe Aéronavale de Nouvelle Génération/Corps de Bombe à Effets Multiples Sécurisé; New Generation Naval Aviation Bomb/Multiple Effects Insensitive Bomb Body), the new munition offers improved performance, and can destroy hardened targets and generate fragments to attack soft targets. A new low-sensitivity explosive, the B2214, was designed by SNPE specifically for the BANG. The GBU-58 with a BANG 125 body is the weapon of choice for the SEM for operations over Libya, as it is felt that this lightweight weapon is extremely useful in a number of scenarios where collateral damage has to be avoided at all costs.

GBU-12 and AASM

Flottille 12F and its Rafales bore the brunt of the French Navy effort over Libya. For air-to-ground missions, the Rafales were either equipped with four GBU-12 Paveway 2 laser-guided bombs or four AASM (Armement Air Sol Modulaire; modular air-to-surface armament, also informally known as “Hammer”) GPS-guided precision weapons, plus a full load of flares and chaff and MICA (Missile d’Interception, de Combat et d’Autodéfense; Interception, Combat and Self-Defence missile) air-to-air missiles.

Operation Harmattan was the first time the Flottille had used the Damoclès laser designation pod in anger. The pod was fitted to aircraft—irrespective of whether they were armed with the GBU-12 or the AASM, and was used for target identification at long distances—for the guidance of GBU-12s or to determine the precise coordinates of a target before engaging it with an AASM. According to the pilots, the Damoclès proved more effective in the Rafale than in the SEM because of the better quality and the higher resolution of the displays in the Rafale’s cockpit. The Damoclès was a useful addition to the Front Sector Optronics (FSO; an internal system mounted above the nose of the Rafale) that comprises a powerful TV sensor, a laser rangefinder and an infrared search and track system.

For the Charles de Gaulle’s aircrews, the Damoclès arrived at a crucial moment, and they were able to “spike” autonomously without resorting to buddy lasing. The Damoclès now incorporates a number of ameliorations that benefit both the SEM and the Rafale communities: laser pointer, laser spot tracker and recce mode. The Damoclès is optimised for the air-to-surface role, while the FSO is optimised for the air-to-air mission. Both have advantages and drawbacks and pilots regularly switched between them according to the conditions—for example, day, night or sand storms. In very bad weather, when they could not see the ground at all, pilots could still “paint” radar images of the target areas using the RBE2 high-resolution radar mode.

Both the GBU-12 and the AASM comprise a guidance kit mated to a BANG/CBEMS 250 kg bomb body. Compared to the GBU-12, the AASM is a powered weapon fitted with a range extension kit at the rear that allows targets to be engaged at ranges exceeding 50 kilometres. During the author’s visit to the Charles de Gaulle, only the GPS-guided variant of the AASM was in service aboard the ship. The GPS/infrared-guided variant had been qualified, but paperwork allowing its deployment from the carrier had not yet been finalised.

The GBU-12 was mainly used for “dynamic targeting”—a kind of close air support, but without any forward air controller on the ground. The AASM was mostly fired against high-value and well-defended military targets, such as ammunition dumps, air-defence systems and hardened shelters.

On average, the Charles de Gaulle launched between eight and 12 Rafale attack sorties a day. According to a Flottille 12F spokesperson, compared to the SEM, the Rafale offered a significantly larger load-carrying capability; a two-ship Rafale patrol carried a combined total of eight bombs and eight air-to-air missiles, while a SEM two-ship formation carried just two bombs and one self-defence missile. The Rafale’s range is reportedly excellent too: the aircraft typically flew two-hour sorties over Libya without needing in-flight refuelling, while, with tanker support, they flew four-hour sorties.

Although the air-to-air threat was assessed as very low or negligible, there was the possibility that aircrews might have found themselves engaged with Libyan aircraft in last-ditch attempts to regain air supremacy. This was why the Charles de Gaulle’s aircraft carried MICA missiles for self-defence and air superiority until the end of the deployment.

Scalp attack

Within her extensive storage facilities, the Charles de Gaulle can carry an extremely wide array of weapons, including Scalp cruise missiles. The Scalp is a member of the Scalp/Storm Shadow/Black Shaheen family, whose origins can be traced back to the French Apache anti-runway missile. The airframe and engine combination of the Scalp/Storm Shadow/Black Shaheen is very close to that of their forebear, but in the Scalp, the ten Kriss runway-busting submunitions of the Apache have been replaced by a single Broach warhead designed to defeat hardened structures such as ammunition dumps, buried command posts or reinforced aircraft shelters. The Rafale M is currently cleared to be catapulted with a single Scalp under the centreline pylon, plus two 2,000-litre drop tanks and up to six MICA missiles.

Flottille 12F fired four Scalps from the Charles de Gaulle at a Libyan target—believed to be an air base—while a further seven were expended by Air Force Rafale and Mirage 2000D strike fighters. Although it is not possible for the French Navy to disclose operational details, it is fair to assume that targeting data for the Scalp missiles were downloaded to the Charles de Gaulle via the Syracuse 3 satellite communication system. It is no secret that the Centre National de Ciblage (National Targeting Centre)—a joint unit based in Creil, north of Paris—has the capability to produce all navigation and targeting data from reconnaissance pictures taken either by Rafales equipped with Pod Reco NG recce pod or by the Helios 2A and 2B military observation satellites. France also has the autonomous capability to produce accurate 3D digital elevation databases used for automatic terrain following by the Scalp cruise missile (or by the Rafale, if needed). It should be noted, however, that the Charles de Gaulle’s own targeting cell could also create its own databases prior to a Scalp attack. For a country like France, the autonomous capability to deliver stealthy cruise missiles from the sea at will is a crucial tactical and strategic advantage. It sends a clear signal that France can destroy heavily defended targets from stand-off ranges with clinical precision, by day or night. It should be noted here that a naval variant of the Scalp, the MDCN (Missile De Croisière Naval, or naval cruise missile), is currently under development. It will equip the new Aquitaine-class frigates (the first of which started her sea trials in April 2011) and the future Suffren-class nuclear attack submarines.

Rafale success

For the French Navy, this operation—the first massive engagement of the Rafale in a major conflict—proved an unconditional success. The commanding officer of Flottille 12F described the Rafale as “a brilliant fighter, capable of performing the whole spectrum of tactical missions.” He described how the squadron had carried out strike and reconnaissance missions without any dedicated escort using the RBE2 radar, the Link 16 and Spectra electronic warfare suite to maintain all-round situational awareness. “If intercepted, we could have engaged and destroyed any airborne threat with our MICAs during those missions.” He said the Rafale’s sensor and armament suite had proved extremely effective and remarkably flexible. He gave the example that although the Rafale’s weapon system had not been designed specifically for the DEAD (Destruction of Enemy Air Defences) role, by utilising all the aircraft’s sensors—the high resolution radar mode, the Spectra suite, and the Damoclès and FSO optronics systems—the squadron proved fully capable of detecting, localising and engaging enemy surface-to-air missile sites. Indeed, squadron aircraft destroyed SA-3 and SA-6 SAM systems with the AASM, including some mobile systems, which was a significant achievement. He said that Flottille 12F was one of very few units in the world capable of carrying out such a variety of missions from a carrier deck—from reconnaissance to nuclear deterrence, DEAD, anti-ship attacks, close air support and air-defence.

Operation Harmattan demonstrated, once again, that naval power and, specifically, naval air power, are decisive tools in modern warfare. The Charles de Gaulle and its carrier air group played a pivotal role in the NATO air campaign against Libya, delivering massive firepower against fleeting targets. The French flagship was undoubtedly the most powerful naval asset taking part in the operation, which helped safeguard the lives of countless civilians.

The author would like to thank Rear-Admiral Coindreau, Captain Jean-Phillipe Rolland and all Charles de Gaulle’s personnel for their kind help during his visit. Special thanks also to Captains de Frégate Bonneau and Gander, Lieutenants de Vaisseau Delorme and Errard, Ensign de Vaisseau Lugrin and Aspirant Latil for organising the visit.

Article by Rob Neil.

In the early 1980s, when Piaggio Aero named its new aircraft Avanti (“forward”), the name couldn’t have been more appropriate. Today, the beautiful sleek Avanti II is still futuristic, and is still simultaneously the world’s fastest civil turboprop and, arguably, its “greenest” business aircraft. It is as “modern” today as it was when it first flew, and is even more desirable. A full quarter of a century after the first Avanti first flew, the Avanti II is appealing to increasing numbers of business aircraft buyers, who are beginning to appreciate what this outstanding aircraft offers in the way of performance and comfort, as well as genuinely green credentials.

The Piaggio P180 Avanti was first conceived and designed by Piaggio in the late 1970s. In 1983, Gates Learjet became a partner, but withdrew from the programme for financial reasons at the beginning of 1986 and was no longer involved by the time the first Avanti first flew in September that year.

The timing of the Avanti’s arrival on the international scene in 1986 was far from ideal. Launched at a time of international economic slow-down, and when oil prices were still realistic, the Avanti was ahead of its time and faced stiff competition from the perceived “status” of its jet competition.

It is important to note at this point that the Avanti’s competition has only ever been jets—I suggest the Avanti has never been remotely in the same class as any other turboprop. With a top speed of 402 knots (Mach 0.70), the Avanti II leaves every other turboprop far behind. It is not only faster than the smaller jets like the Cessna CJ1 (389 knots) and Embraer Phenom 100 (390 knots), but it also rivals other light jets, like the Cessna CJ2 and CJ3, and is not much slower than some others like the Hawker 400XP and the Embraer Phenom 300 (both 450 knots), and the Raytheon Premier IA (451 knots).

The unfortunate arrival on the scene of the ill-fated Beech Starship several months before the first Avanti appeared might conceivably have influenced some potential buyers negatively. Beechcraft’s brave attempt to produce a futuristic turboprop alternative to business jets proved to be an unmitigated commercial disaster and, I suspect, possibly swayed opinion against “advanced” turboprop aircraft at a time when competing jets were comparatively far more affordable to buy and operate. Whatever the reasons, Piaggio Aero sold fewer than 100 Avantis during its first 20 years.

The improved Avanti II received US and European certification in 2005 and was certified in Australia in 2010. Within six months of its US and European certification, 70 of the new aircraft had already been ordered, 36 of them by a single company—Avantair in the US—which is currently the largest single operator of the type in the world. With more powerful engines, the Avanti II is slightly faster and has even better fuel economy than its already speedy and fuel-miserly predecessor, and it incorporates a new glass panel cockpit and modernised systems.

The Avanti’s unique configuration is undoubtedly the key to its performance and economy. Piaggio says that the Avanti’s configuration, in which its curvaceous fuselage contributes a tangible percentage of its total lift, enables its wing to be 34% smaller than on a conventional aircraft. The Avanti’s pusher configuration, in which there is no propeller-induced disruption to airflow over the wing, allows the wing to maintain laminar flow over 50% of the wing’s chord, compared to a maximum of around 20% of the wing chord typically obtained with a tractor configuration.

The combination of the fuselage doing a good chunk of the lifting, reducing the amount of wing required to do the rest, and clever manufacturing techniques in which larger single panels are built to closer tolerances, means the Avanti is a remarkably drag-free aircraft, which is why it is so economical.

The Avanti’s foreplane, with no flying control surfaces, is not a canard, although it features flaps that extend in concert with the main wing flaps. As is the case with most aircraft featuring foreplanes or canards, the angle of incidence of the Avanti’s foreplane prevents the main wing from stalling, as the foreplane stalls first and lowers the nose, and thus ensures smooth airflow is maintained over the main wing.

The Avanti’s flight controls are all manual and are aerodynamically balanced for lightness, while, to maintain aerodynamic efficiency, the ailerons have completely sealed gaps.

With the hot exhaust from the Pratt and Whitney PT6A-66B engines flowing over them, the propellers do not require any anti-icing system, which saves complexity and cost. One side-effect of the propellers’ location in the wake of the engines’ exhaust is the unusual noise they produce to listeners on the ground. While this unique Avanti howl has been the source of complaints at airports where Avantis operate frequently (for example, at Naples, Florida, where Avantair is based), the aircraft meets the requisite modern noise standards with decibels to spare.

When one reads various reviews or pilot reports about the Avanti (whether the early model or the new Avanti II), a recurring complaint from reviewers is a perception that the Avanti is “expensive”. Compared to a loaf of bread, it is indeed expensive. However, in order to make a fair comparison, once again, it is important to note that this aircraft should only be compared with jets and not with other—less competent—turboprop twins. When one compares the Avanti II appropriately, I suggest it immediately begins to look extremely competitively priced. If one wants an aircraft with high speed, low fuel burn, proven reliability, a large comfortable cabin and unmatched style, I suggest the Avanti II is, in fact, something of a bargain.

Not only is the price of a new Avanti II (just under US$7.2 million fully equipped) not expensive compared with mid-size jets (it is a travesty to compare it to “light” jets), but with a fuel burn around 40% less than even light jets and around 25% better than its closest turboprop “competitor”, the Avanti II’s indisputable green credentials mean an owner faces significantly lower ongoing fuel bills that will soon compensate for any (“perceived”) high purchase price.

I recently had the opportunity to ride as a passenger in an Avanti II that was flown by Piaggio Aero’s flight operations manager and experimental test pilot, Lorenzo Villi. For several reasons, my Avanti II experience ranks as one of the most memorable passenger flights I have had. Firstly, I was blown away by the deceptive interior size of the aircraft. From the outside, its sleek futuristic lines give the aircraft the appearance of being far smaller than it is. So much so, that upon first stepping aboard, I did a double-take and was tempted to step back outside to confirm I was stepping into the same aeroplane I had just been looking at. I have used the “Doctor Who’s Tardis” analogy before, but never has it seemed more appropriate than it did upon stepping inside the Avanti. With a full 1.75 metre height, the central aisle virtually disappeared into the distance at the rear of the aircraft where beautifully polished wooden panels and a door separated the main part of the cabin from the separate bathroom/lavatory.

The aircraft we flew was configured with club seating for four at the rear of the luxuriously spacious 1.85 metre wide cabin cabin, a two-seat divan at the front on the starboard side, with a refreshment cabinet and a single-place divan on the port side just aft of the entry door. The covered lavatory seat could be used as an additional—and still comfortable—seat if required.

The interior accommodation was as opulent as one would expect of a $7 million business aircraft, with the seats finished in sumptuous beige leather, and side-panels and pull-out tables of polished wood. The size of the cabin interior reminded me more of the mid-size Hawker 800 (in which the cabin’s height and width are identical to the Avanti) than the light jets aircraft it ostensibly competes with, like the Cessna CJ2 and CJ3, the Embraer Phenom 100 and 300, the Hawker 400 and the Beechcraft Premier.

Once we were settled in the aircraft, Lorenzo started the Avanti’s two PT6A-66B turboprop engines. The sound and sensation was quite unlike anything I had experienced before. With the two propellers situated well behind the passenger cabin and facing rearwards, it was incredibly quiet inside, with almost no perceptible vibration, and was definitely unlike any other turboprop I’ve ever been in; it was much, much quieter.

John Bingham, the president and CEO of Piaggio America, who spoke to us before the flight, told us we could expect to be impressed by the lack of noise; his claims were certainly not overstated. The Avanti II is so delightfully quiet inside that from the cockpit, Lorenzo could hear spoken conversation from those in the rearmost passenger seats during every stage of flight. With interior noise levels measured at 68 dbA—compared to 78 and 77 dbA respectively for the Cessna Citation CJ2 and CJ3 jets, and 80 dbA for the Beech King Air 350 turboprop—the Avanti II’s near-silent cabin is a stress-free, relaxing haven for the aircraft’s occupants, who can converse comfortably with anyone else on board without raising voices.

The streamlined nose of the Avanti results in very little wind noise in flight. In some jets I have flown in, the noise of 400-knot wind whistling around the cockpit can be quite noticeable. Not so in the Avanti, which retains its murmur-quietness even at high speed. When you fly as a passenger in the aircraft’s main cabin, it feels remarkably jet-like in terms of smoothness and quietness with only the faintest (almost soothing) trace of vibration hinting at the presence of its two five-bladed Hartzell propellers.

The Avanti’s rate of climb is a respectable 2,770 ft/min—not far short of many of its jet competitors. It has a service ceiling of 41,000 feet—also very close to that of its jet competitors, and equal to or better than its turboprop rivals. Importantly for the Avanti’s occupants, with a 9.0 psi cabin pressure differential, the cabin altitude never exceeds 6,000 feet, which is extremely relaxing and comfortable for occupants during long flights. Even more importantly for its aero-medical operators, the Avanti II can maintain a sea-level cabin altitude to 24,000 feet, giving them enormous flexibility when transporting pressure-critical passengers.

The Avanti II I flew aboard had been involved in a trial with the Royal Flying Doctor Service (RFDS), which was comparing the aircraft with the King Airs and Pilatus PC12s it currently operates. While the Avanti is more “expensive” to purchase than the King Air, its combination of higher speed and economy of operation would mean that the price of the fuel it saved compared to the King Air would pay for the difference in purchase price within one year of typical RFDS operations. In addition to the lower fuel burn, in RFDS service, an Avanti would offer the benefits of much shorter block times than a King Air—important for severely injured patients for whom time is critical—and the ability to maintain a sea-level cabin altitude to 24,000 feet (compared to 15,290 feet for the King Air and just 13,100 feet in the PC12).

During our brief flight of around an hour, Lorenzo took the Avanti to around 39,000 feet. At no stage during the (rapid) climb, brief cruise or descent did we encounter even the faintest trace of uncomfortable turbulence. In a typically dynamic afternoon sky filled with cumulus cloud, one might have expected more than the odd bump or two, but the Avanti’s three-surface configuration with its thin, narrow high aspect ratio main wings near the rear of the cabin balanced by the elegant foreplane, and small conventional horizontal tail surfaces allowed the aircraft to slice through bumps effortlessly and gave us a very smooth ride.

After a near silent descent, I had almost forgotten we were not in a jet until the use of reversible pitch hauled us to a halt in an impressively short length of runway and provided a pleasant reminder of the flexibility conferred by propellers.

I would have loved an opportunity to take the Avanti’s controls, but enjoyed the experience of being a passenger so much that I was happy just to watch Lorenzo do all the work.

If I were in the market for a “mid-size” business aircraft and I didn’t need intercontinental range, the Piaggio Avanti II would—unquestionably—be my aircraft of choice. From a personal perspective, it offers so many things I like in an aircraft: it has plenty of power; it is fast, comfortable, extremely economical and reliable (I love the fact that it has two PT6s); and, of course, it is one of the sexiest aeroplanes around, despite its age—the Avanti is truly gorgeous from almost any angle, especially in flight. These days, when so many people are eager to criticise aircraft owners for environmental disregard, Avanti owners can stand tall and legitimately claim to be doing their bit for environmental responsibility.

Piaggio Aero believes that as the world’s fuel prices continue to increase, the Avanti II’s unrivalled economy will be a strong drawcard for those in the market for a business aircraft. It is looking at promoting the aircraft outside its traditionally strong US and European markets, and Brazil and Australia are two regions the company is looking at seriously.

Unfortunately, while there are around 7.2 million reasons why I will not be buying an Avanti II, there are plenty of other potential buyers in the market who do not share my budget limitations. For these people, Piaggio Aero has been making the most of the “recession”, and increasing manufacturing capacity and spares stocks in anticipation of better times. Although the company struggled to survive the 90s, it is now in sound financial health with three strong major shareholders—Ferrari, Mubadala Development and Tata—and is perfectly placed to take the next step forward and offer the perfect aircraft to suit the current environmental and economic climate.

Mount Cook Airline, as it is known today, has a long and extremely proud history as a pioneer in New Zealand’s air transport industry. The company had its roots in the 1920s when it was originally established at Timaru by Rodolph Lysaght Wigley as the New Zealand Aero Transport Company. Having originally begun transport and tourism services to and from the Mount Cook region using cars, Wigley purchased a number of ex-RAF Avro 504s and some Airco DH-9s, with the intention of operating a commercial air service in the area.

Wigley displayed incredible visionary foresight in appreciating the South Island’s tourism potential but—as the term “visionary” defines—he was ahead of his time in attempting to establish a commercial air service there, and the public wasn’t quite ready for it. Like all true pioneers, he persevered and, in the 1930s, he operated a Waco aircraft as Queenstown-Mount Cook Airways Limited for scenic flights in the region. However, despite the fact that The Mount Cook Transport Company was the largest tourism organisation in New Zealand by 1930, it was really only after World War Two that the public was really ready for “large-scale” and growing tourism in the area, and a newly renamed Mount Cook and Southern Lakes Tourist Company began servicing the market with coach tours.

Although Rodolph Wigley retired before a truly viable commercial airline market was established in the Mount Cook region, his vision came to fruition when his son, Harry (later Sir Harry) Wigley, took over the business. Harry Wigley, who flew as a fighter pilot during WWII, shared his father’s visions of a southern air service and he really understood how aviation could present the grandeur of the Southern Alps to the world.

As one of his first successful efforts, Harry Wigley modified an Auster Aiglet with skis in order to carry passengers into the most spectacular regions of the Southern Alps. He made his first successful ski landing on the Tasman Glacier in 1955 and, a year later, the company began operating commercial ski-plane flights within the Mount Cook National Park. In the late 1950s, Cessna 180s and 185s replaced the Austers as ski-planes. Today, although it is now a different company, the commercial ski-plane operation originally begun by Harry Wigley continues to operate at Mount Cook, with Cessna 185s still serving alongside Pilatus Porters, as well as some helicopters.

In 1961, the Mount Cook and Southern Lakes Tourist Company bought its first large aircraft (an ex-NAC DC-3), which it operated to Queenstown—originally from both Christchurch and Dunedin, but later, also from Rotorua and Auckland.

In 1967, the company took over another notable New Zealand air service, Tourist Air Transport Ltd (TAT), which incorporated the previous companies Southern Scenic Air Services, Ritchie Air Services and West Coast Airways. As a result, Mount Cook and Southern Lakes Tourist Company inherited an amphibious operation and briefly operated amphibious services in both the Auckland and Southland regions using Grumman Widgeons.

It was in 1968, though, that Mount Cook Airlines—a division of the Mount Cook and Southern Lakes Tourist Company—made what was arguably the company’s most significant move to date and bought its first Hawker Siddeley HS748 to replace the DC-3 on the airline’s scheduled services. The turboprop HS748 was an excellent choice for the airline, with a 44-passenger load equivalent to a coach-load of tourists—a handy feature in the event of a diversion due to weather, when a Mount Cook Line bus could take over and carry passengers to their eventual destination. By the mid-1980s, Mount Cook Airline was operating a fleet of six HS748s, making it the largest independent scheduled airline in New Zealand.

In addition to its amphibious operations, the company diversified briefly into other aerial work, including agricultural operations and floatplane services, but by the end of the 1970s, it had directed its focus on its airline and ski plane tourism operations; it purchased Pilatus Porters for its ski-plane operations and also bought some smaller feeder aircraft like de Havilland Twin Otters, Britten Norman Islanders and Piper Chieftains, and divested itself of “non-core” aircraft and operations.

With the scheduled airline service becoming an increasingly important and busy part of its business, by the mid-1980s, the company began looking at replacements for its 44-seat HS748s. However, although the elderly HS748 was no longer really big enough for the job, a decision on its replacement was delayed when Air New Zealand—which first bought Mount Cook shares in the early 1980s—began increasing its shareholding. By 1991, Air New Zealand had acquired 100% ownership of Mount Cook Airline and the search for a replacement for the HS748 began in earnest.

Eventually, in 1995, a fleet of new ATR72s began to replace Mount Cook’s HS748s. While, from an “airline efficiency” viewpoint, the HS748’s replacement was at least a decade late, the upside was that by delaying its decision as long as it did before eventually choosing the ATR72, Mount Cook Airline got exactly the right aircraft for the job. As time and experience have since shown, the ATR72 has proved to be an efficient, reliable aircraft for Mount Cook Airline and Air New Zealand.

The ATR72 is a thoroughly modern aircraft compared to the HS748. Its construction, systems and avionics are worlds away from the “steam-era” technology of the ’748 and perhaps it is not fair to compare the ’748 directly with the ATR because of the complete generational difference in the two types. Nevertheless, because they both flew the same routes, it is still interesting to compare them.

The writer spent a day with a Mount Cook crew recently on scheduled services between Wellington, Queenstown and Christchurch. Doug Hall, who captained the Wellington–Queenstown and Queenstown–Christchurch legs aboard ZK-MCY, is a long-serving Mount Cook pilot who previously flew HS748s, so he is well placed to compare current operations with those in the older aircraft.

Like all of his counterparts who flew the old ’748s, Doug has fond memories of the English aircraft. While he misses the good old-fashioned “stick-and-rudder, seat-of-the-pants” flying that typified much of Mount Cook Airline’s operations in the old aircraft, equally, he appreciates the reliability, economy and ease of operation of the ATR72 by comparison. He remembers that in the old days, Mount Cook pilots had their work cut out balancing range and payload calculations in the often-challenging weather on the routes they flew. Today, the ATR72’s significantly greater range with a full payload means pilots are no longer ever “embarrassed” as far as payload vs. fuel is concerned. They rarely need to unload passengers or their bags, or agonise over “continue/divert” decisions when flying long sectors on windy or bad weather days.

Apart from the direct operational advantages to flight crews, the ATR’s greater payload/range capability gives Mount Cook Airline the ability to “tanker” fuel when flying to places like Queenstown or Rotorua. In the current climate of astronomical fuel prices, this can save the company money, as fuel is significantly more expensive outside the main centres.

Asked about features of the ATR he particularly liked, Doug said that in addition to its payload range advantages, he really liked its engines and its avionics, which, he said, are consistently reliable. Every pilot wants to know the engines will keep making the appropriate noises, and that the instruments and navaids that guide his or her aircraft safely through the sky will keep it pointing in the right direction.

Another of the ATR72’s good points is its simplicity of operation from a pilot’s perspective. Indeed, from watching the crew perform their duties, it was apparent that the ATR72 is extremely simple to operate, with engine operations and parameters controlled by electronics. For example, as far as power settings are concerned, with an “AUTO” position for propeller levers and a single main detent for the power levers, pilots pretty much need only place the power levers in the detent and then let the aircraft know—via a rotating “power management switch”—which phase of flight it is in and the electronics take care of the rest. And, unlike the ATR’s contemporary, the Bombardier Q300, the ATR doesn’t require any synchronisation of its propellers—the electronics take care of this detail also.

The automation of engine operation also allows the company to budget and plan more reliably. With much less variation possible in operating technique than was possible in the HS748 and other, less automated, types, the ATR72 is a dream come true for company flight planners and bean counters.

When asked about any criticism of the ATR72, Doug said he couldn’t really think of any apart from its air conditioning system; the -500 series of the ATR72 currently in Mount Cook service utilises the same air conditioning system as the ATR72’s smaller sibling, the 42-seat ATR42. As a result, according to Doug, it can’t quite cope with the significantly greater cabin volume of the ATR72 in extremely hot weather. Nevertheless, he counted this as a minor criticism compared to the major advantages the type has in service.

As far as hand-flying the ATR72 is concerned, Doug said its geometry makes it particularly trim sensitive, and pilots are constantly trimming for minor changes in configuration or power. Nevertheless, the trim system is effective and simple, and it is hardly a chore; in any case—as is the most sensible and safest option for most airline flying today—Mount Cook’s pilots take maximum advantage of the ATR72’s effective autopilot and do not do a great deal of hand-flying (unlike the heavily “hands-on” flying undertaken in the HS748). He said the ATR72 is also sensitive to weight and trim when landing and, as a result, nobody can ever guarantee a perfectly smooth landing every time (the comment reminded the writer of the oft-quoted flying instructors’ tongue-in-cheek aphorism: “There are three secrets to making a good landing; unfortunately, nobody knows what they are.”).

Doug’s co-pilot—and the “pilot flying” for the two legs the writer flew with the crew—was Nathan Seaward. Coincidentally, it was Nathan’s second-last day of flying for Mount Cook Airline. Nathan said that although he was leaving to go flying jets, he had enjoyed his Mount Cook service immensely and would miss both the environment within the company and the scenic and varied routes the company flew. Certainly, on a perfect South Island day such as the one we enjoyed, it was easy to see why it would be hard to leave Mount Cook, where so many of the airline’s other pilots choose the Mount Cook lifestyle over a jet career. Having made his difficult choice, Nathan made a great job of his second-last day’s work; thanks to the efficiency of the ATR72 and Air New Zealand’s systems, the flight from Wellington departed on time and was almost 10 minutes ahead of schedule before it reached Queenstown. Accordingly, Nathan diverted a few track miles before reaching Queenstown in order to give the passengers an outstanding scenic flight past the airline’s namesake, Mount Cook. Then, following a beautifully smooth approach to Queenstown’s runway 05, he squeaked ZK-MCY to a satisfyingly smooth touchdown that he mirrored with an equally smooth approach and landing at Christchurch later in the day.

At the end of his time with Doug Hall and Nathan Seaward, the writer had the opportunity to catch up with Allan Brown, Mount Cook Airline’s line operations manager in Christchurch. Allan was able to provide additional perspective, not only as a senior manager, but also balanced by his experience as a pilot who began by flying ski-planes at Mount Cook, and who also flew both the HS748 and the ATR72.

Allan, like every Mount Cook pilot this writer has met, is fiercely loyal to his Mount Cook heritage. At the same time, he is equally proud of the company’s position as part of the greater Air New Zealand brand—particularly in recent years, under Air New Zealand’s current progressive leadership. Allan says Air New Zealand has moved from being a “follower” in years gone by to now being recognised globally as an innovator in the airline industry. Allan says that while the “takeover” of Mount Cook by Air New Zealand 20 years ago might not have been popular with some Mount Cook personnel at the time, there has been a definite change in thinking at Mount Cook. Today, he suggests personnel have two reasons to be proud of who they are and where they work: firstly, all who work at Mount Cook Airline share that company’s rich historical heritage; secondly, as part of Air New Zealand, they understand that they form an essential domestic component of one of the world’s best full-service airlines.

While the aircraft of Mount Cook Airlines (along with Air New Zealand’s two other subsidiary airlines, Air Nelson and Eagle Airlines) all wear identical liveries to those of Air New Zealand’s main fleet, and their respective crews all wear identical uniforms, passengers do not differentiate between any of them; to passengers, they are all “Air New Zealand”. Accordingly, Allan believes that every person who buys a ticket on a Mount Cook aircraft should expect the same—highest—levels of service and safety as he or she rightly expects on any other “Air New Zealand” flight.

When Air New Zealand first took over the various subsidiary airlines, there was fierce “competition” between them. Today, Allan says that has changed drastically and all of Air New Zealand’s subsidiaries work closely together in cooperative synergy. As far as operational matters are concerned, Allan is full of praise for Air New Zealand’s chief pilot, Captain David Morgan, for the influence he has had in improving consistency and standardising procedures amongst the subsidiaries—something that is increasingly important as airlines around the world move towards more sophisticated and accurate performance-based navigation.

It is in the context of being a valuable part of the greater Air New Zealand network, and providing the highest levels of safety, reliability and service, that Allan describes the ATR72 as being a very good aeroplane for the company. Not only does he describe it as having been exactly the right choice for the airline when Air New Zealand took over, but also, he suggests it will remain the perfect choice in future. While ATR aircraft are not without competition in the global market, this writer suggests that it is worth noting that the ATR72-500—which its maker describes as “the world’s greenest aircraft”—fits well with Air New Zealand’s genuine push for environmental responsibility.

Since Saab and British Aerospace stopped producing turboprop aircraft, the most realistic potential alternative (at present) to an ATR is the Bombardier Q400, which has a similar seating capacity. The Q400 is heavier than the ATR (29,260 kg compared to 22,500) and can carry just over a tonne more payload, but it has significantly larger engines (two 4,850 shp engines, compared to the ATR’s two 2,475 shp engines), which means it burns more fuel. Although the larger engines give the Bombardier aircraft a potential speed advantage of around 70 knots over the ATR72, the current price of fuel (something that is highly unlikely to drop significantly in the foreseeable future) is reportedly forcing at least one major European Q400 operator to reduce speed in order to save fuel, thus negating the type’s theoretical advantage. While the Q400 has a definite range advantage (1,360 nm compared to 890 nm for the ATR), this is only relevant if long range is an important consideration.

As an airline manager, Allan is very happy with the ATR’s efficiency and economy of operation. Speaking as a pilot, he praised the same features and benefits of the ATR72 mentioned by Doug Hall, such as its simplicity, reliability, modernity and economy. “In the Hawker Siddeley, you were always doing mental gymnastics, watching your fuel,” he said. “For example, if you were flying Rotorua to Queenstown with a full load, and there happened to be a 40-knot southerly blowing, you knew you were going to have to make the ‘How goes it?’ call somewhere along the way and might end up having to refuel in either Nelson or Christchurch. That just doesn’t happen in the ATR.”

There probably aren’t too many airlines in the world like Mount Cook Airline, which, despite being “taken over” by a bigger player (Air New Zealand) maintains a culture of such historical pride—probably because the smaller airline’s culture is in perfect keeping with the image Air New Zealand promotes of pride in itself as New Zealand’s national airline.

Allan says that being part of the greater Air New Zealand family has provided many benefits that would not have been possible as a small stand-alone airline. For example, Air New Zealand recently purchased and installed a new CAE ATR72 simulator in Auckland. This multimillion-dollar essential tool not only benefits Mount Cook Airline, which previously had to send its pilots overseas for simulator training, but also provides additional revenue opportunities for Air New Zealand, which now sells ATR72 simulator time and provides training to overseas ATR operators.

Considering the challenges of the global market throughout the history of commercial aviation and especially in view of New Zealand’s remoteness, much of Air New Zealand’s (and previously NAC, Air New Zealand and TEAL’s) success must be attributed to its ability to select the right aircraft for the job, whether for domestic or international operations. As an excellent modern example of Air New Zealand’s ability to pick the right aircraft for the job, Mount Cook Airlines’ ATR72s are destined to remain a common sight in New Zealand skies well into the foreseeable future.

When Peter Vincent of Vincent Aviation makes up his mind to do something, it will eventually be done—and done properly. It is undoubtedly why this small private company has somehow survived the worst financial times in living memory and defied the usual demons that afflict aviation.

What began as a tiny charter company based in Wellington has grown to become New Zealand’s only other (still extant) international passenger airline alongside Air New Zealand. Vincent Aviation has a large division based in Darwin, Australia, and operates scheduled passenger services across Northern Australia. The company has an Australian foreign AOC; ANZA approval, which allows it to operate a New Zealand-registered aircraft in Australia; and an approval from Australia’s Department of Transport Regional Services to operate scheduled passenger services between Australia and other countries.

It is not the place of this article to revisit the growth and success of Vincent Aviation’s operations, which have been covered in these pages before. However, the company has recently taken on a new challenge in the form of establishing yet another international operation—this time, between Darwin and Dili on behalf of a new company, Timor Air. By the time this issue is published, it is likely that the last formalities will have been completed and East Timorese authorities will have given approval for Vincent Aviation to operate a regular scheduled service for Timor Air.

The establishment of Timor Air is more than just the start of a new airline. It almost symbolises the re-entry into the civilised world of a nation that suffered firstly at the hands of colonial Portuguese rulers for 200 years, only to be invaded and treated even more harshly by the Indonesian military. More than 100,000 East Timorese people died between 1974 and 1999 when the UN finally stepped in and assumed administration of the country.

Against such a background, the story of the new Timor Air is one of overcoming great odds; of resilience, decency and determination. It is one of East Timor’s own “nobodies”—once an uneducated and a lowly mechanic working on the capital Dili’s wharves—who is behind the new Timor Air. Jerry Desousa escaped the invading Indonesians in 1975 and took around 150 of his countrymen with him to freedom, becoming something of a legend amongst East Timorese people in the process.

Desousa—a truly patriotic East Timorese national—settled in Darwin, where his first job was as a labourer cleaning printing presses. Later, after moving to Sydney, he secured a job helping detainees at one of Australia’s immigrant detention centres, where he eventually became a manager. After a period at the detention centres, he started a highly successful cleaning business that secured major contracts with hospitals and other institutions until, eventually, this “uneducated mechanic” from Dili’s wharves became a self-made multi millionaire.

Jerry, who has no official position in East Timor and is entirely apolitical, never stopped thinking of returning to his native land, nor of ways in which he could help “his people” as he referred to all those still living under Indonesian rule in East Timor.

As an example of Jerry’s commitment to “his people”, when he took Peter Vincent on a guided tour of Dili in 2002, they were accompanied by four nurses who were supporting an Australian eye specialist who was in East Timor performing eye surgery (in the course of two weeks, the team performed something like 150 cataract operations). As Peter discovered, it was largely Jerry’s influence and organisation that brought the medical team to East Timor and improved the lives of so many locals.

In 2002, Jerry approached Peter Vincent in Darwin with a proposal to help him set up a new national airline for East Timor. At the time, Vincent Aviation had just established a domestic operation in Darwin after finishing a contract to service UN peacekeeping personnel stationed in Timor. It had long been a dream of Jerry’s to establish a national airline for his country and, in Vincent Aviation, he believed he had found just the right company to help him.

While Peter Vincent was enthusiastic from the start, the timing was far from perfect for Vincent Aviation to set up another major international operation even before the fledgling Australian operation was in full swing. However tempting it might have been to jump in at the first promising opportunity, Peter Vincent took the prudent approach and—reluctantly—asked Jerry to wait. For the next few years, the two men maintained a constant dialogue. “I wish I had a dollar for every hour Jerry and I spent on the phone,” says Peter.

As time passed—with the Indonesians now gone and his country finally returning to a state of peace—it became increasingly urgent in Jerry’s mind for East Timor to establish an independent national airline. East Timor was in no state for its government to fund an airline and Jerry knew it would be up to people like him to make it happen.

As anyone who knows aviation will understand, the airline market is a cut-throat one at the best of times, and Vincent Aviation had its work cut out for it making operations in Australia, New Zealand and the Pacific succeed—which it did. However, in getting all of his “ducks in a row” and making a go of existing operations (at a time when others were folding all around him) it meant that Peter Vincent was unable to commit the necessary resources to start up a new airline for East Timor.

By 2008, Jerry Desousa was becoming impatient and wanted to get an airline up and running. At the time, there was no possibility of Vincent Aviation using its using Dash-8—which would have been ideal—because the plane was too busy with regular charter work in New Zealand. As a result, Jerry felt compelled to seek assistance from other operators to try and establish the airline he felt his country needed. He initially approached the Australian company OzJet, which planned to operate a Darwin–Dili service using a Boeing 737-200. Unfortunately, no sooner had Jerry begun arranging things than OzJet went into receivership. Following OzJet’s demise, HeavyLift took over some of OzJet’s aircraft and the company’s AOC. Jerry then negotiated with HeavyLift to pick up where OzJet had left off, but without success.

Following unsuccessful negotiations with HeavyLift, Jerry threw his hand in with a start-up company called SkyAirWorld. Jerry personally paid a significant sum as a deposit (some millions of dollars) on a new Embraer E-190 for SkyAirWorld to operate. Unfortunately, the same day as the new aircraft arrived in Australia, SkyAirWorld went into receivership and the leasing company immediately seized the aircraft. Jerry lost all of the money he had invested personally and was severely embarrassed by the whole affair. Timor Air, as that new airline was to have been known, had already been advertising its start-up, complete with images of the Embraer 190 in Timor Air colours. Furthermore, it had already sold about AU$780,000 worth of fares in advance. Thankfully, the pre-sold fares had all been kept in a trust account and everyone was paid back in full, so while Jerry’s pride might have been severely dented, and a large chunk of credibility for a new airline had crumbled, the one saving grace was that Jerry’s honesty and integrity were not in doubt.

And then the global financial crisis really hit home and Peter and Jerry’s plans for a new Timor Air were temporarily placed on the back burner. Both before and after Jerry’s first failed attempts to get Timor Air off the ground, other parties had toyed with the idea of a Timorese air service but none had followed through.

Showing his true colours—and undaunted by the loss of a few million dollars—Jerry Desousa never gave up on Timor Air, and he and Peter Vincent remained in regular contact, working away in the background formulating plans for an East Timorese air service.

Eventually, the stars aligned, and Jerry’s hopes and plans came together when Vincent Aviation decided to lease two Saab 340Bs for its Australian operations. With the blessing of the Timorese government, and agreement from the president and prime minister of East Timor, one of Vincent’s new aircraft will carry the East Timorese flag and wear the large East Timor Independence Day logo (which the president designed) on its tail when it operates on behalf of the new Timor Air.

The second Saab will operate Vincent Aviation’s growing scheduled services in the Northern Territory and provide a back-up aircraft whenever the Timor Air Saab is down for maintenance.

Because of the way Timor Air has been structured—with Vincent Aviation providing the aircraft and experienced aviation personnel for the Timorese company—it means that Timor Air can concentrate on marketing itself and the many attractions that East Timor has to offer and leave all operational matters to Vincent Aviation.

By early June, Vincent Aviation had already completed the route-proving flights required by NZCAA to show it could operate the Darwin–Dili route safely, and everything was in place to open the doors on the new service. By the time this article is published, the service should already be up and running.

Since the UN brought peace to the country, East Timor has been serviced by aircraft from both Australia (Darwin–Dili) and Indonesia (Bali–Dili)—so why does East Timor need its own airline? Like most remote places with relatively limited demand for air travel and with no real “competition”, fares have been high (as they are wherever a similar situation prevails) and, with the limited numbers of passengers needing to fly, schedules have been infrequent and often inconvenient.

Darwin-based Airnorth operates 76-seat Embraer 170s between Darwin and Dili five days a week—two return flights daily on three days of the week, and a single return flight for two days. Meanwhile, the Indonesian airline, Merpati, operates a single return service daily between Bali and Dili using a Boeing 737-300.

Initially, Timor Air’s service between Darwin and Dili will operate once a day, three days a week. However, Peter expects this to change quickly and predicts an increase before long to two flights a day, five days a week, and he believes the numbers are already there.

“What we’re hoping for,” says Peter, “is that our flight schedule will mirror what happened with our service between Darwin and Groote Eylandt. There, nearly nine years ago, we began by offering two flights a week; we now fly there twice daily, seven days a week. We believe the same potential exists with the Darwin–Dili service.”

Vincent Aviation’s Saabs are smaller and more economical than Airnorth’s jets currently operating the route (38 seats as opposed to 76 seats in Airnorth’s E170s) and this will give Timor Air far more flexibility to lower fares and increase frequency. “This is definitely an area where we see the Saab has an advantage,” Peter says. “We can easily increase frequency if the demand is there and customers will prefer the choice offered by two flights daily instead of just one in a bigger aircraft.”

The Saab 340 has already proved to be a winner for Vincent Aviation. The type was extremely successful and popular in Air New Zealand/Air Nelson service, where it was only replaced because it became too small to operate the increasingly busy routes it flew. Peter says the Saab has been more reliable to operate than they had predicted and has stood up well to the Northern Territory’s harsh conditions. Furthermore, and especially importantly in today’s current fuel market, it has also been far more economical than Peter hoped. On average, the Saabs have been burning only marginally more fuel than the Beech 1900s in Vincent Aviation’s Australian fleet (around 600 litres/hour compared to 550 litres/hour for the B1900) but have 70% more seat miles/hour than the smaller Beech aircraft. “The Saabs have just been brilliant aircraft,” Peter says.

Vincent Aviation is leasing its two Saabs from a company called Red Rocket Aviation based on the Gold Coast. Both of the aircraft were previously part of the MacAir fleet in Australia and, before that, both originally flew with American Eagle in the US. The aircraft bearing the Timor Air livery had only served a few months with MacAir before that company’s collapse, and had been painted just before entering MacAir service.

Both aircraft are relatively low time machines; one had done 24,000 hours and the other only 18,000 when they joined the Vincent fleet. Both were in generally good condition but according to Peter, they still needed “a significant amount of refurbishment” before they were up to Vincent Aviation’s standards. One of the aircraft required a “C-check” and much needed doing before they could be added to the New Zealand register, so both were brought to Vincent Aviation’s maintenance facility in Wellington for refurbishment.

According to Mark Yardley, Vincent Aviation’s chief engineer in Australia, the Saabs are not experiencing the same issues as other aircraft Vincent has previously operated in Darwin. The Northern Territory has just been through worst wet season in living memory and, as a result, electrical, electronic and avionics failures (in other aircraft) have been common. Not so the Saabs, which have experienced almost 100% reliability, according to Peter. The relative simplicity of the Saab (compared to the likes of the Dash-8, for example) is another factor in the Swedish aircraft’s favour—and undoubtedly contributes to its reliability.

In an important move for Vincent Aviation, the acquisition of two larger aircraft of the same type is proving its worth. As good as the company’s (single) Dash-8 is, there are major inefficiencies involved in operating only a single aircraft of any type. Every type requires specific tooling, training (for both engineers and flight crews) and a stock of spare parts. Unfortunately, there is little difference between the spares stockpile required for a single aircraft and that required for a fleet of several aircraft.

Now, with two Saabs already flying, and plans in place to increase this number of aircraft in the next year, the combination of efficiencies of scale and better-than-expected economy of the Saabs’ operation means overall fleet efficiency will increase.

The Saab uses a little more runway than either the Dash-8 or the Beech 1900s flown by Vincent Aviation, but as runway length is not a limitation at most airports used by the company, this is a non-issue.

From Peter Vincent’s perspective, the move to “re-fleet” with Saabs is a win-win. The Saab’s capital cost is only around half that of the Dash-8, while the aircraft offers roughly similar seat-miles/hour, and the price of parts for the Saabs averages somewhere between 50% and 70% of comparable parts for the rest of the company’s aircraft.

It is not only Vincent Aviation’s accountant and operational personnel who are appreciating the Saabs, but also the company’s passengers; the Saabs have wider seats than the Dash-8 and lots of leg room. “Passengers love them,” says Peter.

Peter is aware that his Saabs will be competing on the Darwin–Dili route with Embraer jet aircraft operated by Airnorth. The Embraer 170s are very nice aircraft, according to Peter, but over the short (400 nm) sector between Darwin and Dili, the jets’ slight speed advantage over the Saabs is not significant, and an effort by Timor Air to produce swifter check-in and more efficient baggage handling services will minimise the jets’ advantage further. Timor Air is banking on the fact that, as its business builds and flight frequencies increase, passengers will prefer this convenience to the few minutes (and it will be only a few minutes) saved by flying a jet.

Importantly for Timor Air (and Vincent Aviation), the airline’s status as a national carrier will be extremely important because the United Nations—which is still heavily involved in East Timor—has a policy of utilising the services of local nations wherever possible. Quite rightly, the UN (and many other companies and agencies) prefer to support local companies in order to ensure money stays local rather than going offshore.

However, obviously, this is by no means guaranteed—and neither Timor Air nor Vincent Aviation is relying on it as part of their business models. However, provided a company’s services are priced competitively (Timor Air’s will be), and the service meets stringent safety and maintenance standards (Vincent Aviation’s standards bear any scrutiny), then it is highly likely Timor Air will become the airline of choice between Darwin and Dili for the UN and others.

There is no denying the natural tendency throughout the world for locals to support local businesses and, undoubtedly, the East Timorese government will support its own flag carrier. In East Timor, there is likely to be strong local support for a national airline in preference to any from abroad, as the country has endured so much adversity from outside influences in recent times. The Kiwi connection is highly beneficial as New Zealand and New Zealanders are highly regarded. New Zealand has played an important role in peacekeeping efforts during the last 11 years and these efforts continue today with New Zealand’s military personnel and police admired for the selfless good work they have done (and continue to do).

Peter believes East Timor offers a great deal of promise as a growth market for backpackers and tourists. He says the country is an attractive destination with great scenic beauty, good diving, fascinating history and culture, and an excellent tropical climate. Until now, the missing link, according to Peter, has been an appropriate air service.

Peter says he has already been approached by potential customers wanting him to expand his Darwin–Dili service. As a result, in typical Pete Vincent fashion, he has been brainstorming the possibilities—even to the extent of identifying and costing suitable aircraft to fill the role alongside an expanded Saab fleet.

“We’ve been doing the numbers on several potential opportunities and have identified potential aircraft types to service new routes that would complement what we’re doing in the Northern Territory and [East] Timor. With the routes and [larger jet] aircraft we’ve identified, we should be able to make it work with loadings of as few as 40 people.”

In addition, Peter is already considering the potential to set up a domestic airline within greater Timor. He says there is significant interest locally in having an air service between Dili and Kupang, which is in West Timor, only 130 miles from Dili. While the Saabs would be able to operate the route, Peter believes it would suit a smaller aircraft better and—not surprisingly—he has already identified and costed a number of alternatives that would be suitable in that role also.

Today, Vincent Aviation has a staff of around 65 in Darwin. While this is down slightly on pre-global financial crisis numbers, the company has survived the crisis while plenty of others—many of them much bigger—have not. Now the company is growing again, with the introduction of the Saabs looking like they will contribute significantly to further growth and success. When Vincent Aviation first set up shop in Australia, business was booming for the company in New Zealand—which allowed it to support the establishment and growth of its Australian division. Today, the strength of the Aussie economy means the situation is reversed and Vincent Aviation in Australia can now support its New Zealand operation. By having operations in both New Zealand and Australia, it has given Peter the flexibility to move resources between the two countries as situations change.

“Times were pretty tough for a while there during the last couple of years,” says Peter, “and most smart bean-counters would probably have shut up shop in New Zealand. But that isn’t the way we work; we’ve kept going, preserved people’s jobs and remained viable with lots of hard work…and partly thanks to the growth and success of our Australian operation. Most of all, though, we’ve kept going because we believe there is a future here in New Zealand.”

Despite the difficulties and setbacks of the global financial crisis, and the occasional (hideously expensive) unscheduled major maintenance expense, Peter believes Vincent Aviation has never before had opportunities like it does at present with the pending start of its Timor Air operation. At the time of writing, Vincent Aviation was potentially within a week of being able to operate a jet, with strong prospects of a substantial amount of work for it. With two particularly good audits behind it—one from NZCAA and one from Australia’s CASA—two new Saabs up and running, and Timor Air poised and ready to go, Vincent Aviation’s future looks more promising than ever by fulfilling Jerry Desousa’s life-long dream of providing a national airline for East Timor.

By Rob Neil.

In June 2009, Pacific Wings featured an article on the all-composite Flight Design CTLS light sport aircraft. The Flight Design range was then—and remains—one of the most popular light sport aircraft (LSA) in the world. Flight Design sold the first LSA into India, it was the first LSA to earn Chinese Type Design Approval and it has been the top-selling LSA in the US for six consecutive years. More than 1,700 Flight Design aircraft of different models have been sold in more than 40 countries, many of them to flight training establishments.

When I flew the Flight Design CTLS in 2009, I was hugely impressed with the quality of its build, its outstanding solidity, its ease of flying and its safety features. The CTLS was a “microlight” by technical definition only, and made older generation two-seat general aviation types look decidedly sub-standard by comparison.

It didn’t surprise me in the least to learn that numerous flying schools in the US use the CTLS as a trainer. Having flown it myself, I can confirm that the CTLS provides an outstanding training platform. However, using a CTLS for training is a little like using Porsche Boxters as basic training equipment at driving schools. The Porsches will work brilliantly as driving trainers—but their qualities (and additional cost) are not really necessary.

Several manufacturers are now producing extremely effective and capable LSA/microlights that offer some choice to flight schools considering the non-GA route. However, like Flight Design’s CTLS model, many of them are aimed more at well-heeled private owners than flight schools, and their additional features and qualities make them “over-qualified” for the job.

While numerous flying schools in the US use significant numbers of CTLS models—and reportedly love flying them—Flight Design kept receiving requests from flight schools to produce a simpler, cheaper model to suit their basic training needs.

While already striving hard to meet demand for its composite CTLS, Flight Design responded to the demand for a more affordable and utilitarian aircraft by producing the MC (Metal Concept) model. Having examined and flown the MC, I wondered if perhaps the designation might actually have stood for “Master of Ceremonies”—for it sits squarely at the head of the LSA table alongside Flight Design’s CTLS models.

With an extremely well-engineered steel safety cage protecting the occupants, the rest of the MC’s structure is mainly aluminium, except for composite cowlings ahead of the cockpit. Flight Design has retained the composite landing gear that works so well on the CTLS and, in conjunction with the central European tyre manufacturer SAVA, has also produced special hard-wearing tyres as an option for flight schools to suit the MC’s intended heavy-duty role as a flight trainer. There is also a “Tundra Tyre” option available, which further expands the “utility” opportunities for the aircraft. Notably, although not required for certification in the LSA class, Flight Design is conducting fatigue testing on the MC to ensure its long-term durability.

Except for its impressive size difference—which I will get to shortly—the MC has an almost identical interior to its CTLS cousin. However, a significant difference between the MC and the CTLS is that the MC is the only Flight Design aircraft to offer all-analogue instrumentation as an option; the composite CTLS only offers various “glass” cockpit options—which are also available in the MC, of course.

Designed from the outset as a trainer and more basic utility option, the MC has no need for the extreme range of the CTLS (around 840 nm). With a combined capacity of 100 litres, the MC’s wing tanks are slightly smaller than those of its carbon-fibre cousin (130 litres). However, the MC still has more than enough endurance (around five hours) for the most demanding flight training duties. Its range, at around 640 nm, is similar to the maximum range of the Cessna 172 (a four-seat “touring” aircraft) so it is more than adequate for what most GA pilots consider to be “long-distance” touring.

An important consideration for anyone flying long or far in the MC is its interior accommodation. When I flew the CTLS, I was amazed at the amount of space inside its supposed “microlight” cabin. It is huge compared to conventional GA types and is 24% wider inside than the four-seat Cessna 172 (1.24 metres, compared to just 1.00 metre for the Cessna).

However, as large as the CTLS is, the new MC eclipses it by a considerable margin and is definitely the “stand-out” performer in the interior space stakes. At a truly impressive 1.31 metres wide, the MC is only six centimetres narrower than the 19-seat Beech 1900D airliner—which has a central aisle! Unless one has the time and money to fix wings to the sides of a large motorhome, and if interior size and space are issues for a prospective LSA buyer, the Flight Design MC is unquestionably the aircraft to consider.

In addition to the acres of space available for its occupants, the MC also features a sizeable baggage area aft of the seats, which can hold up to 50 kg of luggage. This is a seriously practical amount of payload for anyone wanting to tour in this aircraft and the cavernous luggage space is easily accessible, as is evident in the attached photographs.

The MC’s metal wing utilises the same aerofoil section as the CTLS. The wing also retains the “reflex” (negative) flap setting used in the CTLS, which, when used in flight, feels like an overdrive in a car and contributes to the aircraft’s excellent speed, range and economy. Considering that its little 100 hp Rotax engine is pulling a veritable “lounge room” through the sky, the MC still manages a comfortable cruise of 110 knots while sipping only 16–22 litres an hour. Compare this to the typical old-technology four-seat “touring” aircraft that require another 60 to 80 hp to achieve a similar cruise speed, but use another 10–20 litres of fuel an hour to do so.

When I reviewed the CTLS and wrote the article in 2009, I commented on the fact that Sport Aircraft New Zealand—the New Zealand Flight Design agency—was formed by two retired airline pilots with lifetimes of flying behind them. I noted that before choosing Flight Design, they had both scoured the world for an aircraft that they felt met their strict requirements for safety, quality and flying characteristics. Since meeting Rudi van der Zwaal and Tim Harrison, I have also met one of Australia’s Flight Design representatives, Leo Moras (Leo’s business partner, Shaun Seipel, was not in Melbourne for the air-show). Like Rudi and Tim, Leo is also a retired airline pilot. He, too, chose the Flight Design range in order to be able to offer his customers aircraft that were safe, comfortable, enjoyable to fly, well built and reliable.

Leo offered me the chance to fly an early production MC following the Avalon Air-show and, having enjoyed the CTLS so much, I leapt at the opportunity. I was not disappointed! I found the MC—like the CTLS—to be one of the easiest to fly, most comfortable and predictable aeroplanes I have flown. I particularly enjoyed the spaciousness in the cockpit, which, on its own, seemed to eliminate the subtle stress imparted by some GA types when working in closely confined cockpits. An Australian CFI who has flown the MC said it “provides a relaxed learning environment where students are not distracted by things such as the confines of the cockpit.”

Entry to the spacious cabin is via “gull-wing” doors on each side of the cabin, which are held in place by gas struts. The seats are positioned at a good height to enable one to slide into the cabin and, by bending one’s knee, to slide the inside leg over the top of the control stick (dual controls are standard) and settle in. Once seated, a four-point harness secures the occupants into very comfortable seats that are adjustable fore and aft to fit pilots of anything up to 6’6” (1.98 metres) in height.

There are a number of handy storage pockets and map holders located throughout the cabin, which is heated and well ventilated. A popular option amongst Flight Design buyers has proved to be a 16.5 x 25.4 cm (6.5” x 10”) photo window. With its already excellent visibility, this contributes to the MC’s suitability for such diverse roles as agricultural or survey operations, animal control or observation, pipeline or powerline inspection, or forestry surveillance.

Like its carbon-fibre cousins, the MC features the same simple system in the cockpit that makes it impossible to operate the aircraft with the fuel lever in the “off” position. By placing the single fuel lever so that it covers the ignition key when the fuel lever is in the “off” position, it is impossible to even start the engine unless the pilot raises the fuel lever to “on”. If fitted with glass cockpit instruments (as Leo’s demonstrator was), fuel quantity and fuel use are available on the secondary multi-function display (MFD). However, to avoid “finger trouble” when inputting fuel figures, the MC also incorporates completely idiot-proof sight gauges in the wing roots that are visible inside the cockpit.

With the fuel lever raised, start-up and taxi in the MC are both super simple, as can be expected from such a light Rotax-powered aircraft. Like the CTLS, the MC has nosewheel steering but no individual brakes; braking is via a single lever on the upper surface of the right side of the central console.

On takeoff, the MC accelerates quickly and, rotating at around 49 knots, it leaps off the ground and starts to climb. With a best rate-of-climb speed of 61 knots, a fully laden MC with its flaps set at 0º climbs at around 850 ft/min (with flaps at -12º and a speed of 67 knots, it climbs at just under 800 ft/min). While these speeds and climb rates are roughly comparable to those of a well-maintained GA two-seater, there is no comparison with the way the MC flies. The MC’s controls are feather-light and completely predictable, with no slack or play.

Once established at altitude, the MC trims easily and flies very smoothly. Its metal wings are longer than those of the CTLS, but because of the flex inherent in their metal construction, the additional wing area does not translate into a rougher ride in turbulence—instead, the wings absorb the minor turbulence loads and provide an extremely comfortable ride.

With a demonstrated crosswind component of 16 knots (11 knots with full flap) and its light, direct controls, landing the MC is a breeze; base leg is flown at 61 knots, reducing to around 48 knots on final.

Like the CTLS, the MC can be fitted with an autopilot to accompany the various glass cockpit options. I spoke to John MacKnight—one of the many Australian customers who have bought Flight Design aircraft from Leo—and he described the autopilot fitted to the CTLS he owns as “the best autopilot I’ve ever used.” As the founder of MacKnight Airlines (1970–1997), winner of the 1998 Aviation Safety Foundation Award and recent recipient of the Medal of Australia for services to aviation, John knows a fair bit about autopilots in GA aircraft!

Whether he or she is buying a CTLS fully-equipped with Dynon Skyview synthetic vision and three-axis autopilot, or a back-to-basics MC fitted with all-analogue instrumentation, every Flight Design customer gets a comprehensive flight manual that is almost a flying training manual as well. Flight Design’s manuals—which are freely available online from Flight Design USA—are great examples of how these important documents should be produced.

While not mandatory in New Zealand or Australia, a ballistic recovery parachute is required in every LSA sold in Europe and, accordingly, this valuable safety feature is standard equipment in the MC. In an aeroplane that is as easy to fly, as sturdily built and fitted with as many modern instruments as the Flight Design aircraft are, one would hope that a ballistic recovery parachute would never be necessary. Nevertheless, it is comforting to know that in the event of an unforeseen catastrophe, an in-flight medical emergency or a case of extreme stupidity, one has that last-ditch life-saving option of pulling the pretty red handle and floating gently to earth.

From a purely aesthetic point of view, the CTLS is—in my opinion—a slightly prettier aeroplane than the MC—although, to the uninitiated, they could easily be mistaken for one another. However, for the likes of flying schools, where things like simplicity, durability, ease of operation, interior space and field maintainability feature higher on their wish lists than aesthetic appearance, the MC will undoubtedly be the Flight Design aircraft of choice. Likewise, for the well-heeled private owner of “well-above-average” dimensions, the MC—kitted out with all of the fancy options available in the CTLS—will still be a perfect choice.

The introduction of the MC provides a thoroughly worthy alternative to Flight Design’s composite aircraft and signals the company’s responsiveness to industry and customer opinion. It is now very much a case of “horses for courses” and with the MC in Flight Design’s stable, it means there are more winning horses for a wider range of courses—and a fitting “Master of Ceremonies” to preside over the LSA revolution.

I had come to Heliflite Pacific at Ardmore to take a look at the R66 Turbine—the latest iteration of Frank Robinson’s evolutionary series of simple, affordable and reliable helicopters. With a stark blue sky as a backdrop, the Ferrari-red R66 looked fantastic as it sat parked on the apron outside Heliflite. It might have been Friday the 13^th (of May), but I had no superstitious qualms about going flying when my pilot was to be none other than Simon Spencer-Bower, the CEO and CFI of Wanaka Helicopters and possibly the world’s highest-time Robinson helicopter pilot.

The world has been waiting a long time for the R66 to arrive—since long before Frank Robinson even admitted his company was working on the design, in fact. Ever since the R44 arrived on the scene and revolutionised the global light helicopter market, Robinson users have been asking the same question: “When will Robinson be producing a turbine machine?”

With a well-proven winning philosophy of simplicity and economy, Robinson was reluctant to jump into the much more complex (and expensive) turbine market too quickly. While the two-seat R22 and later four-seat R44 were (and continue to be) incredibly popular world leaders in the light helicopter market, Robinson did not want to sacrifice the little helicopters’ unbeatable virtues of simplicity and economy for the sake of fashion.

Nevertheless, I’m sure nobody imagined for a second that Frank Robinson and his design team weren’t constantly assessing the possibilities of producing a suitable turbine sibling for the R22 and R44 since even before the first public enquiry. While continuing to publicly dismiss talk of a possible turbine version, Robinson was quietly making behind-the-scenes progress with Rolls-Royce to produce a suitable engine to power the machine that would become the R66.

The 300 shp Rolls-Royce RR300 was the result, and the announcement of its introduction was also the signal for Robinson Helicopters to announce the development of the R66. The helicopter world was in raptures; at last—a turbine-engined “Robbie”!

Frank Robinson has always been a world leader in recognising the principle that “round, with an axle in the middle and tyre around the circumference” is a sound basic design for a wheel. When the R44 followed the R22 into production, the soundness of the principle was confirmed and so Robinson saw no need to re-invent the wheel when designing the R66.

Accordingly, while it wanted to offer a new helicopter with all the benefits of a turbine engine, the company worked hard to confer the R66 with all of the popular characteristics of the R44—chief among them being simplicity. This meant utilising hydro-pneumatic engine controls as opposed to FADEC, and traditional gauges instead of an integrated glass cockpit display. Frank Robinson wanted it to be as easy as possible for an R44 pilot to transition to an R66 and he appears to have succeeded admirably. The biggest immediate difference between the aircraft for pilots flying them is the big power difference—and, of course, no pilot will ever complain about having more power available.

At a superficial glance, the R66 looks similar to the R44. However, despite having almost identical external dimensions (with the exception that the R66 has a fuselage eight inches wider), a closer look reveals a few distinctive differences between the two. For example, on the R44, the tapered rotor mast fairing perches directly on top of the fuselage. On the R66, a more “integrated” curved lower fillet on the rotor mast fairing blends smoothly with the fuselage and tapers back to blend with the tail boom.

At the rear of the lower rotor mast fairing on the R66—at the point where the tail boom meets the fuselage—the R66 features several grille-covered air intake vents and there is another grille-covered vent directly below that on the fuselage. On the R44, the top rear of the fuselage features a louvered vent that is not present on the R66. Apart from the “R66 Turbine” name badge on its fuselage sides, the most obvious “I am a turbine aircraft” indicator for the R66 is its single large exhaust outlet at the top of the vertical rear wall of the fuselage; the R44 has just one small exhaust outlet at the lower rear corner of the rear fuselage wall.

Despite incorporating only barely perceptible changes to the fuselage profile, the aesthetic “balance” of the R66 has been improved significantly by changes to the aircraft’s windows. The lower edges of the windows on the new R66 are all now lower and angled significantly more than on the R44, and the bottom edge of the side windows of the R66 blend with the lower edge of the windscreen in a far more visually appealing manner than they did on the R44.

As Robinson Helicopters did with both the R22 and R44, it has derated the RR300 engine of the R66 to ensure reliability and longevity; in the case of the R66, the 300 shp of the RR300 is derated to 270 shp. The new helicopter’s maximum operating density altitude of 14,000 feet is the same as that of the piston-engined R44. The RR300 engine weighs only 172 lb and, importantly, because it is installed at a 37-degree angle, it makes possible a “first” for a Robbie—something that every Robinson  pilot has dreamed about—a separate baggage compartment capable of carrying up to 300 lbs and large enough to fit things like suitcases or golf clubs. Hooray!

Both the R22 and R44 each had two fuel tanks; the R66 has just one main tank of 282 litres. The single fuel port and cap is contained in a small recessed area covered by a latchable flap. This recessed area not only prevents any spilled fuel from flowing overboard down the side of the helicopter, but it also doubles as a step for the pilot when inspecting the rotor head.

As already discussed, while the R66 retains nearly identical external dimensions, the interior width of the cabin is increased from 50.5 to 58 inches. This not only gives the front occupants significantly more shoulder room, but also allows for the addition of a proper third seat in the back. Although the legroom in the back has only been increased by one inch over the R44, the entire foot well area of the R66 is significantly bigger and roomier.

The empty weight of the R66 is typically about 1,270 pounds. With a maximum all up weight of 2,700 pounds, this gives the R66 an extremely useful “useful load” of around 1,400 pounds, which means it can lift around 10% more than its own weight—something not too many helicopters can manage. Of those that can lift significantly more than their own weight, most are designed specifically for lifting and are not primarily passenger carriers in the R66’s class. One could hardly consider helicopters like the Boeing CH-47 Chinook (13%) or the venerable Lama (20%) in the same class as the Robinson R66, and amongst its nearest contemporaries, only the MD530F (which was specifically designed for hot-and-high performance) carries a significantly greater percentage (20%) than its own weight.

Importantly for R66 owners, the new helicopter’s performance does not come at the expense of feeding lots of expensive fuel through an uprated engine. From trials conducted by Heliflite, fuel burn of the RR300 appears to be typically around 90 litres an hour, giving the R66 the “traditional” Robinson three-hour endurance. Initially, all of the R66’s major components, including the engine, will have a TBO of 2,000 hours; however, this figure is likely to be extended over time to perhaps 2,200 hours.

Inside the helicopter, the anti-torque pedals sit slightly further apart than they do in the R44, and they retain the same fore-and-aft adjustment system to accommodate various pilot leg lengths. The instrument panel is 100% identifiably Robinson, which will make existing Robbie pilots feel immediately at home. However, the new panel incorporates a few different gauges of the kind necessary for a turbine engined helicopter. A neat double row of annunciator lights, including all the caution lights, sits above the flight instruments. There are a couple of new caution lights for pilots, including one for “Anti-ice on” and another which illuminates if any of the luggage locker, fuel flap or engine flap doors are left open. Additionally, another light will flash if the onboard monitoring system fitted to the R66 detects any exceedances.

When the time came to go for a flight, I sat in the middle seat in the rear with a passenger on either side of me. Although it looked a little cramped, once we were seated, it proved to a perfect “jump seat” with enough legroom between the two pilots’ seats, and a good overview of the cockpit. ZK-HAG is fitted with a leather interior—an extremely comfortable option that’s fairly popular in the R44. With their lower sill height than those in the R44, the R66’s side windows offer an impressive field of view all around.

Once we were all strapped in, Simon completed a short pre-start checklist and started the engine. Talk about simple: battery and strobes on, key switched to IGNITER, press and release the start button on the collective, wait for the N1 gauge to read between 12 and 15%, push in the fuel valve on the instrument panel, and listen to the engine come to life. If anything goes wrong, just pull the fuel valve to the OFF position and the compressor will continue to blow the temperature down in the engine until the pilot turns the igniter switch off—almost as easy as starting an engine with full FADEC autostart on an Airbus!

We flew several circuits, including one in which Simon demonstrated an autorotation. Lined up with TLOF Pad One at Ardmore about a mile out, Simon rolled the throttle off. The R66 glided towards the pad with a rate of descent of approximately 1,100 fpm, at a speed of between 65 and 70 knots, the rotors at 100% rpm and very few control inputs. In fact, the ride down was so uneventful and smooth I took time to look about and enjoy the view. At the bottom, Simon rolled the engine back online for a power recovery, followed by a gentle flare. It was the way an autorotation should be: efficient, effective and no drama.

I then got out and stood next to the TLOF to take photographs of some more circuits and autorotations. When Simon was finished, I hopped back in and we air taxied back to Heliflite Pacific for a coffee.

Shutting the R66 down was as elementary starting it. After putting the collective in the full down position, the throttle is rolled off, the engine is given a two-minute cool down period and the fuel valve is closed. After taking a few seconds to ensure that the N2 and rotor needles have split and the internal engine temperature is trending down, it’s time to shut off the battery and put the helicopter away.

My impression of the Robinson R66? Two words: Bloody Fantastic! This aircraft is an absolute winner and will be the premier entry-level turbine helicopter that so many pilots and businesses have been waiting for.

Simon’s Impressions.

In late March, I flew to Robinson Helicopters’ factory at Torrance Airport, Los Angeles, for a type-rating on the R66 with Robinson’s chief pilot, Doug Tomkins. In addition to the standard type-rating procedures, I asked to be allowed to test the R66 at higher altitudes because it is so relevant to the environment in which many New Zealanders will be flying. Doug was happy to oblige and we made a trip to the mountains east of LA where we tested the R66 in OGE hovers at up to 11,000 feet, which proved to be effortless for the little helicopter.

It is only natural that anyone who has flown the R44 will compare it to the R66. My first impression was that the R66 felt very much like an R44—but sounded wrong (turbine noise). The first time I flew the R66, it felt considerably lighter and required more patience to accomplish a tidy takeoff and landing than the R44. This is because its empty weight is 200 lbs less than that of the R44. Consequently, with just two of us on board, it felt very lively in flight, with climb rates exceeding 2,000 feet per minute. Another obvious initial observation was that V_ne has been increased to 140 knots compared to the R44’s 130 knots.

Once I returned to New Zealand, I got my first opportunity to experience the R66 in a working environment at typical working weights. While demonstrating Heliflite’s R66 in the central North Island, this extraordinarily capable little machine began showing its true colours. At maximum all up weight (MAUW), few helicopters have much of a power margin and one must exercise considerable caution in order to avoid exceeding limits. However, at close to its MAUW, the R66 performed all tasks well within limits, including landings and takeoffs at up to 6,200 feet density altitude. The helicopter will perform at much higher altitudes than this, but this was the highest spot we could find on the day. On a typical mission, with an hour of fuel, the R66 has a payload of approximately 1,200 lb (550 kg), which is very impressive for a helicopter of this size.

Cruise speeds are typically in the 115–120 knot range and, when flying next to an R44, the R66 cruised comfortably away from it.

The luggage compartment is probably the biggest “plus” about the R66. It is cavernous in size, so that not only can it carry up to 300 lbs legally, it will also be very useful for bulky items.

The R66 is a very capable machine with heaps of spare power and will be a perfect addition to any tourist operator’s fleet. However, where it will really shine is in any kind of operation where its ability to carry freight as well as passengers can be utilised.

By Rob Neil.

The Tecnam P2008 is undoubtedly the most attractive single-engined aircraft produced by Tecnam to date. A true “composite” aircraft, the P2008 is Tecnam’s first to utilise carbon-fibre for major construction. The aircraft features a carbon-fibre fuselage and fin, while its wings and control surfaces, and its horizontal tail (stabilator) are all made of metal. The aesthetically pleasing flowing lines of its carbon-fibre fuselage are the reason the new P2008 is such a good-looking aeroplane—such “sculpted” lines are virtually impossible to achieve with conventional metal construction. “Bloody gorgeous” is about the best description I can think of to describe the looks of the P2008, which is so gorgeous I think it really deserves a name rather than the disappointingly bland “P2008” designation given to it by Tecnam.

According to its PR material, Tecnam retained the mixed construction (carbon-fibre and metal) in order to optimise the new aircraft’s aerodynamic qualities, its flight characteristics and its reliability. Giovanni Nustrini of Tecnam Australasia says that for aircraft of this size, metal wings can also be made lighter than carbon-fibre wings.

Tecnam says that the metal wing’s ability to flex in flight will provide a much smoother ride for the P2008’s occupants than would be the case with a much stiffer carbon-fibre wing, and that this was another reason for sticking with metal in this application. Conversely, it was the strength and stiffness of carbon-fibre that allowed Tecnam to build a much wider and larger—flex-free—fuselage than would have been possible using metal for the job.

Some “less than careful” users of earlier Tecnams encountered occasional “issues” with the lightweight metal construction of their aircraft if they were abused or not maintained. While the strength of those aircraft has always been ample for normal flight and operations (by careful users), the planes have not always stood up well to abuse or hard knocks (a problem that is certainly not unique to Tecnam, but applies to many small metal aircraft).

Being high up out of the way of careless, big-booted clumsy pilots, the light metal wing of the P2008 will be allowed to perform its duties as a wing and not have to double as a step, a floor for ignorant passengers or a resting platform for heavy objects (as inevitably happens with low-wing aircraft). While this means it should stay well and truly safe from harm, in the event that the wing is damaged at any time, its simple metal construction means it will be easy and inexpensive to repair.

The “standard” Tecnam wing does its job brilliantly in flight, as will be revealed later, but for me, it is the “new” (for Tecnam, at least) carbon-fibre fuselage—inside and out—that makes the P2008 the undoubted “star” of the current range of Tecnam singles.

At 1.2 metres wide, the P2008’s cabin is almost identical in width to the 1.24 metre-wide Flight Design CT range (although still not as wide as the truly cavernous 1.32 metre-wide Flight Design MC), but it is fully 20% wider than the four-seat Cessna 172! Access to the P2008’s cabin is via two forward-hinged one-piece carbon-fibre doors, one on each side of the cabin. With one of the wide doors open as far as one wishes, it is easy to “step” one leg past the solid control stick and slide easily into a seat. The comfortable leather seats, which rest on long adjustment rails, are at an ideal height to allow comfortable access and egress—even for elderly writers. Behind the two seats is a large storage area/baggage compartment with a 20 kg capacity.

There are one or two “plasticky” trim panels about the interior, but overall, the impression is one of good quality—and, to my mind, a significant improvement on earlier models. Once one is seated in the solid, spacious, airy cabin, the well-placed and well-marked switches and controls make it a joy to sit in.

Before I flew the P2008, in order to point out the aircraft’s simplicity and ease of operation for new pilots, Giovanni deliberately avoided briefing me on the aircraft’s systems or characteristics. “Just fly it—work it all out for yourself as you go and see what you think.” With Giovanni alongside me to ensure I did not break anything or do anything seriously wrong, this approach highlighted how far small aeroplanes have come and how easy they are to fly.

Pre-start checks take mere seconds and with only a single throttle lever to consider, starting the P2008’s (now globally ubiquitous) Rotax 912 engine is virtually as straightforward as starting a car. Once started, the Rotax settles immediately into an easy buzz as it warms up. Almost by the time the glass-panel avionics are ready to go, so is the aeroplane.

With a fully castoring nosewheel, steering is by differential braking using the effective toe-brakes, which, while certainly not uncommon, takes a little getting used to for anyone more used to having a steerable nosewheel. The carbon-fibre P2008 feels a lot more solid and sturdy on the ground than its all-metal predecessors while losing none of their manoeuvrability.

Open the throttle for takeoff and the P2008 accelerates quickly and with little tendency to deviate off line. With a little back pressure on the sensitive stick, it is obvious when the aeroplane wants to fly, and it lifts itself off the ground at about 50–55 knots and settles into a steady climb.

Without having been briefed on speeds, angles or anything else, I found myself climbing out at about 65 knots, at which speed the aircraft felt comfortable and climbed at around 900 feet a minute. According to the P2008’s flight manual, the aircraft’s best rate of climb is at 69 knots, its best angle is 63 knots and the “cruise climb” speed is 65–70 knots. It was obvious that Giovanni’s suggestion I should fly the aircraft according to the way it “felt” was a good idea; it proved quickly that the P2008 is safe and easy to fly; indeed, the little plane proved almost immediately that it virtually flew itself!

I read another review of the P2008 in which the writer said he found the control sticks sat a little too far forward for his taste. I, too, found the control sticks sat slightly further forward than I might have liked, but one has to remember that the sliding seats must accommodate a range of different sized pilots, and short people with the seats placed a long way forwards would not want the sticks to be crunched back in their stomachs during flight. In any case, in view of the aircraft’s combination of stable flight characteristics, light control forces and effective trim system, the stick’s position certainly wasn’t an issue for me.

With very light forces required and no annoying free play or “slop” in the controls at all, the P2008 is extremely pleasant to fly throughout its envelope. Settling into the cruise is effortless, with minimal control input required on the light controls and—once accustomed to Rotax’s typical rpm settings being around twice those of old-fashioned GA engines—the electric trim soon has the aircraft set up to fly “hands off”. With a VNE of 134 knots, the P2008 has a maximum cruise speed of 120 knots at maximum continuous power. It has a maximum structural cruising speed of 106 knots, a maximum manoeuvring speed of 98 knots, a maximum flap speed of 68 knots (the first 15 degrees of flap can be deployed at 75 knots), and it stalls at 45 knots clean and at 39 knots with full flap.

Once we had trimmed the aircraft for straight and level flight, Giovanni demonstrated the P2008’s wonderful inherent stability. Keeping his hand off the control sick altogether and using only the rudder to yaw the aircraft, Giovanni turned us about 90 degrees in each direction. Despite the rises and dips of the nose each time a bootful of rudder was applied, by the time we resumed our initial heading, the aircraft was back at the altitude we had started. Closing the throttle without touching anything else resulted in the P2008 assuming its best glide speed (all on its own). Still without touching the control stick, Giovanni manoeuvred the aircraft towards a potential forced landing site using only the rudder. Any change in speed resulting from a rise or fall of the nose during a turn was “self-cancelled” within moments as the P2008 resumed its measured descent at approximately its best glide speed. Having demonstrated its turning and descending stability without using the control stick, Giovanni opened the throttle to resume a climb—still without touching the stick. After a relatively steep initial pitch-up, the nose settled back to a safe climb at about 65 knots, which Giovanni maintained until we resumed our initial altitude.

His hands-off demonstration proved that if trimmed for straight and level cruise flight, the P2008 is impressively stable. Normally, significant stability of this kind comes at the cost of manoeuvrability. However, in the case of the P2008, the aircraft remains consistently light to the touch, manoeuvrable and satisfying to fly. Turns—which are a delight to fly in the P2008—demand correct rudder input to keep the aircraft in balance—which is ideal to teach students about coordinated turns.

Stalls are a complete “non-event” in the P2008. While it displays all of the essential stall characteristics necessary to train a new pilot, the aircraft is extremely reluctant to drop a wing or do anything “frightening”. Even if provoked by holding it in the stall, it just keeps buffeting while descending gently straight ahead—like the elegant, well-mannered creature it is. Force it into a wing-drop and it just gives a slightly disappointed dip as if to ask, “Why did you make me do that?” and it recovers immediately upon releasing back pressure.

With g-limits of +4 and –2 g, the P2008 is not aerobatic, although it almost feels like it wants to be.

Visibility is very good compared to most high-wing GA types. In older high-wing GA types, there is an inescapable feeling of sitting very low down—a rather claustrophobic feeling almost like sitting inside a submarine with skylight windows. In the P2008, one either sits much higher or the window line is much lower. Either way, visibility in cruise flight is very good indeed and one feels far more like the driver of a sports car than the commander of a submarine. However, it is inevitable that the high wing still obstructs visibility a little in the turn.

Circuits in the P2008 are as effortless and straightforward as every other aspect of flight. Except for the slight visibility issue resulting from the high wing, it simply has no vices. The light, easily trimmed controls make altitude holding easy, speed is easy to control and maintain, the aircraft glides predictably and it retains good aerodynamic control, even at slow speed.

The P2008’s New Zealand flight manual quotes a demonstrated crosswind component of 15 knots, although overseas publicity material claims a demonstrated component of 17 knots. Regardless, this is typical for light aircraft and is quite adequate for an aircraft of this type. While landing might not be such an issue in a crosswind, the castoring nosewheel might make for slightly more challenging taxiing in a strong breeze than an aircraft with nosewheel steering. Unfortunately, on the day I flew JAX, there wasn’t a breath of wind so I didn’t get the chance to test either the landing or taxiing in a crosswind.

Noise levels inside the composite P2008 are quite low—certainly far quieter than the “I’m sitting inside a kettle drum” kind of noise evident in many small, cheap metal aeroplanes. When wearing a noise-cancelling headset, there really is no noise to speak of. External noise—noise “pollution” in the parlance of greenie runway-end dwellers—is a thing of the past thanks to the global crop of Rotax- and Jabiru-powered LSAs. The reduction of noise that is accompanying the global GA-to-LSA transition is a welcome change that will benefit future generations of new pilots as well as the bleating, whining “buy a property near an airport and then whine about the noise” members of the public.

Unlike earlier Tecnams, the P2008 is a light sport aircraft (LSA) that has been designed from the outset to be suitable as a trainer rather than as a beefed up microlight with training as a secondary purpose. Everything about the P2008 is designed to make operating it—both ground handling and flying it—as simple and logical as possible, while still incorporating enough modern technology—in the form of an optional Dynon glass cockpit (as fitted to ZK-JAX)—to make it a “real” aeroplane.

The P2008 has two 52-litre fuel tanks—one in each wing behind the wing spar. At the miserly rate at which the Rotax sips fuel, this gives the P2008 an endurance of up to six hours and a potential range of between 500 and 600 nautical miles, making non-stop trips like Auckland–Christchurch possible.

Although it is obviously more modern than its forebears—as one would expect from a new aircraft—the P2008 is still recognisably Tecnam inside, and anyone who has flown a Tecnam before will feel right at home. This is a good thing, because it says that Tecnam is a manufacturer that doesn’t change things for the sake of change. For the customer—whether private owner or flight school manager—this means that if something is different from before, there must have been a good reason for changing it. If not, then they know they are not paying for unnecessary frills or gimmicks.

For fun, affordable flying, Tecnams have always been rated highly and they are highly popular with private owners around the world. I suspect Tecnam is hoping that the P2008 will extend the brand’s popularity to flight training organisations. One (of many) benefit in its favour in this regard is that the P2008 is attractive enough to sell flight training to newbies on the basis of its looks alone! At a time when the cost of fuel is driving increasing numbers of flight school owners and managers to take up bank robbery as a hobby, the P2008 must rank highly amongst possible contenders to replace ageing GA trainers.

All of the reports I have read by reviewers around the world have been full of praise for the P2008. I have to join them in saying this is definitely the best Tecnam single yet and is one of several new LSAs I would choose to fly at my local flying school or aero club if it were available to hire. And did I mention how bloody gorgeous it is?

By Donald Harward

It just happened to be Memorial Day, but in Afghanistan, it didn’t seem any different from any other day. The flag outside was still flying at half-mast. I wasn’t sure if it was flying that way for the guys who were killed a couple of days earlier, or perhaps someone from the previous night—I didn’t want to ask.

Today, when I look at the many images on the TV or the internet of wounded soldiers and hear their heart-wrenching stories, it always conjures up similar images in my mind—images like that Memorial Day in Afghanistan. I think I am always going to remember those times and events—you just don’t get some things out of your head.

I remember another Memorial Day. It was a little chilly as I stood motionless in a group of several hundred men, all of us wearing our dress green uniforms with highly polished boots and maroon berets. People went up to a podium one by one; most dressed in suits, some in uniforms. They talked about this and that—the things they remembered about the person who was a soldier, and whom they obviously loved dearly.

Leaves stirred as flags fluttered in the breeze, but the hundreds of men stood motionless as if frozen. As people spoke, every word resounded in our ears, as we, too, remembered. It was easier to stare straight ahead with our eyes fixed on infinity, but I could not; I stared at a row of women and children seated opposite my formation. Some of them looked at the people speaking and tried to present an appearance of dignified grace. One woman was clutching her children who were crying.

As the speakers’ words ended, the rustling of the leaves gave way to the sound of approaching helicopters, but the seated women did not look up. As the helicopters—a formation of MH-6 “Little Birds”—flew directly overhead in a perfect “V”, one of them pitched up and banked gracefully away from the formation. I watched it briefly and then glanced at one of the women, who was dressed in black. Her head and eyes followed that single aircraft as it turned—seemingly toward heaven. I believe, in her mind’s eye, she was seeing her husband on his last flight as he pitched up, never to return. I had known him; he was a heroic “Night Stalker”—and he would never be coming home.

I remember another time, in a Chicago bar, attending a wake. The parents of the fallen soldier and his surviving brother and sister asked me to join them in a private room; I was there to bury their son the next day. After inviting me to sit, they asked me just two questions. “Can you tell us how he died…and why?” I knew the answer to the first part easily enough. He had been piloting his MH-60 Blackhawk helicopter when it had crashed in Iraq during a mission. But how was I to answer their second question? Fortunately, most people will never get to a point like that in a lifetime; they will never have to field questions like those.

I considered my answer carefully; I knew that whatever I said would be imprinted in their memories forever. I answered slowly and looked them straight in their eyes. “He died because he was a soldier. He had no concern for his personal safety—only for the successful completion of his mission. He died because someone has to take the fight to our enemy; someone has to risk it all; someone has to be selfless enough to do what needs to be done when others will not—and when that happens, someone almost always pays with his life.”

His sister, who lived out west, told us that on the day her brother had died—and before she had been told of his death—she had been hiking in the mountains. As she had stopped at a scenic lookout and stared at the sky, a lone eagle flew towards her and circled directly above her for a while before flying on. She said that at that moment she had felt something she could not explain—but I think I know what it was, and I think that deep down inside, she did too.

My wife Kathy got a chance to see a little of the price soldiers pay on the battlefield. While visiting me in Landsthule Army Hospital in Germany, she saw many torn and wounded soldiers. I watched her as they came hobbling by wearing casts, bandages and steel wires holding their broken limbs together. The way she looked and sometimes covered her mouth said it all. You just don’t see that sort of stuff in normal hospitals; at least I haven’t seen it.

Oddly enough, when listening to those broken guys, the common message one always seems to hear is their desire to get back into the fight. They feel that they have let their buddies down by having been shot, or blown up, or whatever. Many people might call them, crazy or shell-shocked, or describe them as suffering from some sort of delayed combat stress, I don’t know. I call them patriots—the best their country has—and I think of them as heroes.

My dad—a soft-spoken survivor of the Great War against Nazi Germany and the Axis powers—was just such a hero. As a very young man, he piloted his B-17G to war, where he took many lives by delivering his deadly bombs to their targets—and where he was also shot up and crashed. He didn’t talk about it much, but he understood war on a personal level. He knew people didn’t just get shot cleanly and fall down unconscious. He knew that it was not that simple. He knew that no matter how awful it felt, he had to climb back into that cockpit day after day and keep doing his job.

I remember my Dad telling me—a son who had just finished a second combat tour—what flak was all about. I’m sure he was trying to give me pointers that might save my bacon in the future—or maybe he felt I had reached a level of maturity to handle such things. “If you see a black puff of smoke, it’s nothing to worry about. If you see red, you had better check the engines pretty quickly and get ready to feather the props,” he said. (I was piloting helicopters, and I don’t believe he understood that we did not feather rotor blades). “If you see orange, it means you are hit—and you need to find out where, pretty darn quick.”

I hold such memories close to my heart. They, and many others like them have “congealed” within me to become the very bedrock of my being. That foundation, and a healthy dose of spiritual faith, is all I need to know who created me, who I am, where I come from, what I stand for, and what I believe in. No hint of political correctness will ever be part of me. There is not, and never can be any honour in being politically correct. It is just a polite way of lying and I’ll have none of it. Being politically correct has got us to where we, as a society, currently find ourselves with an identity crisis. It is not politically correct to say there are religious groups that hate us. It is not politically correct to admit that we have to do something about it—and I don’t mean debate it endlessly in the marble and granite halls of Washington! It is still not politically correct to tell the truth about what is going on in Afghanistan or, more to the point, what the war might really be about.

I had written a paragraph describing my opinions on the problems we face in the current war zones, but I decided to delete it. I am not political, and I don’t want to mix the memories of honourable soldiers with the lying babble of the politically correct, so I’ll just leave it alone. Those of you who read this know what I am talking about anyway; you are like me. You are the reason we are over here; you are the people of the free world. I pray you remain strong and your numbers multiply because we need you as much as you need us.

Not long ago, I flew a fairly high-ranking dignitary around. What a stark contrast there was between “them and us” as he and his entourage climbed aboard my helicopter. They wore jackets, pressed trousers and polished shoes, and had an air of calm disregard about them. We wore dusty uniforms festooned with the weapons and tools of war that were integral parts of our daily lives. When the principal climbed aboard he had to push aside an M4 carbine that was attached by a chord to the roof near the door, and his associates seemed mildly annoyed by the “clutter” of medical rucksacks and weapons secured around the aircraft’s interior.

The two combat medics crewing my ship made their assessments of our passengers. Which one of our passengers would freak out if we took fire? Could they be trusted not to go stumbling into the tail rotor? Which one/s would we have to keep a close eye on?

Scotty, the other pilot, and I were similarly dressed. We had on one-piece flight suits, combat boots and flight helmets. I wore an American flag attached to a Velcro patch on the back of my helmet. Scotty wore Oakley boots of the kind originally designed for our Special Forces, and which we jokingly referred to as “over-stocked dot-com boots,” because of the trendy oval affixed to their sides. Both of us had our kit set up in such a way that we would have been ready to fight the minute we hit the ground in the event we had our helicopter shot out from under us. Scotty’s Aeroscout background and my special ops experience dovetailed nicely together. Both of us knew the deal and what to do if things got ugly. When one was flying, the other was always ready to take over if the guy on the controls took a round. I flew with a double magazine locked in and the weapon on safe. Practice had taught me to place a finger alongside the trigger housing with my thumb on the safety, which I knew to push twice to enable a three round burst of automatic fire when I squeezed the trigger.

Our vests were set up so that under blindfold conditions we knew exactly where everything was located. On the bottom right were a total of six 30-round magazines. To their left was a single 30-round “night” mag loaded with pure tracers. Tracer bullets leave a red trail that is easy to see and helps to aim automatic fire; I would have used these to mark an enemy position at night if I were shot down so that our gunners could have delivered 3,000 rounds a minute to the point where the tracers were striking. Next to that was my medical kit. It had a long tab that made it easy to grab with slippery hands; pull the tab left, and the first thing inside was a bag of “quick clot”, a substance which, when poured on a wound, can stop bleeding and save a life. Next to that, under my left arm, was my survival radio and a small flashlight. Above that were three M-9, 9-mm pistol magazines which, had I ever had to use them, would have meant I was having an extraordinarily bad day. Then there were two “catch all” pouches. In one, I kept my personal GPS, a signalling mirror, and matches. In the other, I carried more bandages and some gum; had to have gum! Finally there was the one handed tourniquet, which we practised applying from time to time.

Our guests in the back were yelling at one another over the beating of the blades and the scream of the turbine engine as we picked up, did a pedal turn and accelerated over the taxiway to take off. We flew with no doors at all, so the VIPs must have felt a little bit out of their element; no quiet and comfortable interiors here. We flew that way to allow anybody on board to have good fields of view and of fire. I climbed and watched our formation spread out around me. We had a gunship accelerating past us on the left, and two birds with security types on board tucked in right behind us. We were going to a local hot spot where an IED had exploded causing casualties just the day before. My plan was to swing wide to the west, away from the city, while the gun bird approached at 500 feet from the east. I noted his position, started my turn in and dropped to 300 feet. As the gun bird completed its first clearing turn over the objective, I maintained 300 feet and accelerated. The gun bird reported all clear and I began banking right and left so that no one on the ground could get a good shot at us. I glanced over my shoulder at the principal and his aides, who seemed oblivious to the whole thing. Whether they realised it or not, their lives were totally in my hands for the next two to three minutes.

Having the gunship circle had telegraphed our plan to the enemy, and Mr. Bad Guy was definitely there. Whether or not he would behave himself, was a 50/50 proposition, but I was prepared for a gunfight anyway. I headed in the general direction of our landing site, but banking right and left the whole time, never making it obvious where I was going to land. As I drew closer, I hoped that from the ground, it would have appeared as though I was doing a low pass by the landing area. At the last minute, I cranked the aircraft to the left, reduced power and descended quickly, flaring as we sank over the 12-foot high blast wall protecting the compound. I can’t help wondering what the VIP in the back thought after a ride like that, but it didn’t matter—my job had been to get him there in one big reusable piece. In doing, so I had to place a multi-million-dollar helicopter in a known shooting gallery and expose Americans to great danger. I’ll bet the folks in the back didn’t have a clue what was really happening—which delineated the differences between their lives and ours.

I disliked doing any VIP work, especially in a combat zone, but it really is part of the job these days. Embedded press, gawkers, elected officials, you name it. Whoever they were, I always made it clear to our passengers that if the shooting started, it would not be a pleasant ride, but would be all about getting them out alive and unscratched if possible. I didn’t want there to be any confusion in their minds about the differences between flying in a combat helicopter and a commercial airline flight. When I piloted a jet airliner, it was all about comfort and convenience for the passengers to ensure they kept coming back and swiping the plastic. Not in a war zone though, where, once on board an aircraft, it was always possible one might never come back.

When we went back to pick up our VIP and his associates, I approached the site differently. As I lifted off, I stayed low and accelerated quickly to gain airspeed. Then, I pitched the nose up with the power still in and was rewarded with a rapid climb. I knew that the bad guys knew we were there. The chances were that amongst the ranks of people working in the compound there might well have been Taliban sympathisers who had called their jihadist buddies to let them know who was in town. The odds were that they were more likely to shoot at us with small arms like AKs, so altitude was our best friend. In Vietnam, Huey pilots flew at around 1,500–2,000 feet to avoid small arms fire. Now, decades later, we do exactly the same thing except when a mission calls for us to fly lower. Within a couple of minutes we were at 3,000 or more feet and enjoying a much cooler temperature and a scenic view.

Flying at altitude could be a little disconcerting for passengers in the back; some of their seats faced outwards only inches from the opening where the door would normally be. Passengers in these seats had to physically hold their legs in if they didn’t want them blown about by the 100+ mile per hour windblast. I’ll bet that as our passengers looked down to see nothing below them for several thousand feet, they probably had serious thoughts about seat belt integrity! Thankfully, none of our VIPs fell out of the helicopter and with another mission ended safely, it was time to get some chow, unwind, and turn on the tube. With the fan in my room spinning on low, I killed the lights and drifted off to sleep as a dinosaur documentary played on Discovery. I knew the next day would bring its own new challenges, but it was time to let my mind drift to dreams of family, home, and happy days to come.