Showing posts with label Tony Jannus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tony Jannus. Show all posts

Thursday, January 15, 2015

The Fastest Hydroaeroplane of 1912

A couple of weeks ago, we featured a photo of a Benoist XIV which was the first airliner in America. But before Thomas Benoist (pronounced Ben-wah) built his flying boat, he had experimented with mounting a biplane originally designed as a Landplane on a large float. The design was an instant success, and our photo shows pilot Tony Jannus beginning a takeoff run during the 1912 Chicago Hydro Meet. But I get ahead of myself...and how this plane came to be is a fun story.
Tony Jannus in the Benoist XII begins his takeoff run at the 1912 Chicago Hydro Meet


The Benoist Model XII (because it was first introduced in 1912) was Benoist's first original aircraft design. Before it, Benoist's factory had license-built aircraft from other designers, including the Wrights, Glenn Curtiss and Bleriot. Disaster had struck in 1911, when the St. Louis factory caught fire and burned to the ground, destroying five complete aircraft, as well as a wealth of parts and supplies...and it was completely uninsured.

Undetered, Thomas Benoist pressed forward with the Model XII project. In its original configuration, the XII was a "headless" open-frame pusher design, similar to Wright Model B and the headless-version of the Curtiss Model D. Benoist followed Curtiss in using interplane ailerons to try to avoid infringing on the Wright's patent, which claimed ownership of all designs that used changing of the angle of incidence of the wings for lateral control (the Wrights had successfully defended wing-warping as well as wing-mounted ailerons as their invention in court; Curtiss had pioneered the use of interplane ailerons as a way around the Wright's lock, but in 1913 a patent judge had ruled that even this method was proprietary to the Wrights). But unlike Curtiss' interplane ailerons which were hinged, Benoist's design fixed the inboard ends of the spring steel-framed surfaces to the interplane struts and used cables to twist the outboard ends. The Model XII was powered by a Roberts 75-hp six-cylinder liquid-cooled engine, a widely-used boat engine of the time.

On February 29, 1912 (some sources say March 1), Benoist's chief pilot, Tony Jannus (who some sources credit with co-designing the Model XII) carried US Army Capt. Albert Berry in a Model XII to an altitude of 2,000 feet over Jefferson Barracks, MO, at which point Berry jumped out to become one of the first people in history to successfully use a parachute (there is a bit of controversy of who actually was first...Berry's jump was well documented as an Army test, but there are some who claim that a man named Grant Morton successfully parachuted over Venice Beach on April 28, 1911. The uncertainty comes from the fact that the records are inconclusive as to whether this happened in 1911, or on April 28, 1912). The success of the jump helped to promote the idea of using the new technology to send soldiers covertly into combat from the air, but getting out of the airplane was the tough part. It became quickly apparent to Benoist and Jannus that exiting the plane would be much easier if the engine was upfront in a tractor configuration, and the soldier sat behind the wing, astride a narrow fuselage.

So the Model XII design was reworked to incorporate an enclosed Bleriot-style fuselage. When Benoist first conceived of the XII, he figured that one of the big markets for the type would be exhibitions, and so designed it to be modular and easily disassembled for rail transport. This, it was a relatively simple thing to take it apart and redesign how the modules fit together, adding a new fuselage. The original radiator (which had previously had been mounted just behind the pilot) now sat out front, partially blocking the pilot's forward visibility. Because the redesign was an attempt to meet a need of the Army, Benoist called it the Model XII Military Plane. First flight of the new configuration was at the end of March at St. Louis' Kinlock Field.

A couple of months later, the design was refined again, this time with the fuselage being expanded so that the pilot and passenger sat down in it, rather than on top of it, and in this configuration, Benoist marketed it as the Model XII Cross Country Plane, also known as the Landplane. When it came to experimenting with turning the Landplane into a float plane, rather than redesign the undercarriage, Benoist took a Model XII (there is some indication that it was Factory No. 35) and simply mounted it, skids and all, on a wide single flat-bottom stepped float during the summer of 1912.

In September of that year, Chicago played host to the Hydro Flying Meet. A year earlier, the 1911 Chicago International Aviation Meet had been a huge success, and like that meet, the 1912 edition included events for hydroaeroplanes  at Grant Park on Lake Michigan. After the successes Benoist and Jannus enjoyed flying from the lakes and rivers around St. Louis, it was a natural thing to take the plane to Chicago...winning, or even just doing well there, would result in national media attention, and a lot of free publicity.

Entrants competed in a number of events, as well as an overall best-of competition. Jannus and the Model XII won both the endurance and the speed competitions, and took second overall. Buoyed by that success, Benoist and Jannus decided they needed to keep the media attention coming, and so planned an event that would keep the press talking about their hydroaeroplane. A year earlier, an attempt had been made in a Curtiss to fly the length of the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers, but the attempt had been abandoned. For a Benoist to succeed at what a Curtiss had failed to accomplish would be a coup indeed.

The journey started on November 6th at Omaha, Nebraska, and Jannus headed south (mechanic J. D. Smith followed on the ground). During the next 40 days, Jannus flew 1,973 miles over water - establishing a new over-water world distance record - and performed 42 exhibitions at towns along the route. The flight was not without its difficulties, as Jannus suffered a bout of appendicitis, and there were the usual mechanical breakdowns. At one point, they suffered a near-disasterous fire.

The flight was supposed to also set a mark as the first ever delivery of beer by air. Benoist had lined up a number of sponsors for the flight, one of which was the Lemp Brewery, the St. Louis manufacturer of Falstaff Beer. A case of Falstaff was thus ceremoniously loaded onboard the Model XII as a gift to be presented to the Mayor of New Orleans at the end of the trip. As legend has it, however, at the end of the first day of flying when Jannus met up with Smith, the pilot was feeling no pain, and well into his 12th bottle of Falstaff. When Smith asked what they would do about the Mayor, Jannus supposedly said not to worry, that the case flew much better empty.

Finally, though, Jannus arrived in New Orleans on December 16th (one day before the 9th anniversary of the Wright Brothers' first flight - a lot had changed in only nine years!), and he presented the Mayor with his (supposedly) empty beer case and was celebrated as a hero with his own parade through the city.

The Model XII was then sold to a new owner in New Orleans, and between the sale and the revenue generated by the exhibition flying, the Benoist company made over $17,000 on the stunt, not to mention garnering invaluable press coverage. This Missouri Historical Societ website includes a photo which appears to show the final fate of the Benoist Model XII Hydroaeroplane, although it doesn't include any information on the incident.

One of the five original Benoist XIIs, Factory No. 32, has survived, and is preserved in the collection of the National Air & Space Museum.

Sunday, January 4, 2015

First Airline Flight in America - 101 years later

You are looking at a very significant moment in aviation history, and one that has been almost forgotten. On January 1, 1914, almost exactly 101 years ago, Anthony "Tony" Jannus, with passenger Abraham C. Pheil sitting next to him, landed in Tampa Bay in this Benoist XIV, marking the inaugural flight of the very first scheduled airline service in the United States, and the first scheduled airline service in the world to use heavier-than-air craft.

The carrier was the St. Petersburg-Tampa Airboat Line (or SPT Airboat Line), which had been organized by Paul E. Fanzler (sometimes spelled Fansler), a business associate of aircraft manufacturer Thomas Benoist, and the new company received its charter from the St. Petersburg Board of Trade on December 17, 1913, the 10th anniversary of the Wright Brothers' first flight. The contract was for a three-month period, during which the Board of Trade guaranteed that it would cover up to 50% of the expenses for running the airline not met by revenues. Flight time to cover the 18 miles between the two cities was a mere 23 minutes, which was an astounding leap for Floridians, as the equivalent trip by boat was over two hours, and by railroad took over eleven hours.

Pheil (left) and Jannus (right) wave just before alighting.
Pheil, a former mayor of St. Petersburg, had paid a princely ticket fare of $400, which, according to this calculator, is the equivalent of $9,321.96 in today's dollars! A whopping fare for an 18-mile hop, but then again, he could forever lay claim to the title of First American Airline Passenger. The normal advertised fare was $5 for the one-way flight, and that included you and your carry-on, both of which couldn't weigh more than 200 pounds together; if a passenger's weight exceeded that, overage charges of 25 cents per every five pounds was charged...consider that when you think about how airlines do things today! SPT Airboat Line advertised a schedule of two round-trips per day (see the link below to their schedule).

Thomas Benoist of St. Louis, Mo.was possibly one of the most shrewd of the early aviation pioneers. There's an old saw that the only people who really made money from the 1849 California Gold Rush were those who sold shovels and whiskey - and Benoist was the equivalent of the shovel salesmen to the new aeronautics industry. Benoist had initially made his money selling automobile batteries and starters, and in 1907, he and a partner set up the Aeronautical Supply Company, or Aerosco, to sell the raw materials to all the inventors and entrepreneurs who were trying to take to the air. Initially, they dealt in the wood and fabric raw materials, but eventually bought licenses to offer planes designed by the Wrights, Curtiss, Blériot and Farman in kit form; he also opened a flight school to teach all the eager students how to fly. Eventually, Benoist realized he could do those designers one better, and started designing and selling his own planes, and the whole operation was renamed Benoist Aircraft Company. Tony Jannus joined the company in November 1911 as their chief pilot.

In 1913, Benoist built two Model XIV flying boats, very similar in design to the Curtiss Model E. Named the Lark of Duluth and the Lark of Florida, the two planes were used for barnstorming for a while, until Fanzler secured the contract with St. Petersburg for the airline.

Unfortunately, as revolutionary as the air service was, and despite the fact that the airline carried 1,204 passengers without incident (and lost only four days' flying due to mechanical failures), that just wasn't enough to meet the expenses, and the Board of Trade declined to subsidize the service beyond the original three-month contract. The airline continued to operate for another five weeks, but the lack of winter "snow bird" tourists hurt, and the St. Petersburg-Tampa Airboat Line made its last flight on May 4, 1914.

The Lark of Duluth was then sold, and was operated carrying thrill seekers on Conneaut Lake, Penn. until it crashed in July 1914. Only the engine was salvagable.

Jannus left Benoist shortly thereafter, and became a test pilot for Curtiss. He was killed on October 12, 1916 when the Curtiss H-7 flying boat he was demonstrating to the Russians crashed into the Black Sea near Sevastopol, Russia. His body was never recovered. Today, the Tony Jannus award is presented annually to notables in the airline industry. And in Tampa International Airport, the only American airport terminal to house a micro-brewery, one can buy a Tony Jannus Pale Ale, brewed on-site at the airport.

Sometimes the story of a photograph isn't just what's depicted, sometimes it includes the actual physical print, as well. Such is the case with this photo of a Benoist XIV in Tampa, Florida.
Our print was originally printed on Kodak AZO RPPC paper (and printed upside down, too). Kodak had revolutionized the post card industry when it started manufacturing its paper, because photographers, pro and amateur alike, could make contact prints easily and cheaply, and then use them to mail the photos to friends and family, or sell them commercially. But, because of the size of the paper and its relatively low cost, it was also ideal for use by photographers to make proofs of their work, before enlarging them. This appears to be the case here.

Our copy of the image was cut down on the left side, and there are publication crop lines added by a photo editor. Interestingly, the State of Florida's Library and Information Services web site has a digital copy of the 8x10 press photo on file, which appears to have used the crop of our original. The caption that the Florida site includes reads, "Triumphant pilot Tony Jannus waves as he lands in Tampa on the first leg of that first regularly-scheduled airline flight in 1914."

What our copy appears to have been was the original proof that was printed from the negative, on which the guidelines were drawn to show the developer how to print the 8x10 glossies which would then be sent out as press photos (the State of Florida's source print being one of these).

And one footnote: On July 16, 2013, a replica of the Lark of Duluth crashed into Duluth's Superior Bay.

Cool links: