Friday, February 17, 2012

The First Airline in America

Claude Ryan's first converted Standard J-1, the Oneota, over the San Diego waterfront
flown by Dick Bowman (note the lack of a registration number...this was two years
before they were required).
The title of "First Scheduled Airline in America" has been claimed by two different companies, and far be it for this blog to attempt to settle the dispute. One of the claimants is Chalk's, which traces its roots back to Chalk's Flying Service, which established scheduled airline service between Miami and Bimini in February, 1919.

The other is the Los Angeles-San Diego Air Line (not exactly the most imaginative airline name in history...and rather limiting of route expansion!), which is the subject of today's gorgeous glossy 8x10 press and publicity photo.

Long before he was known as an aircraft designer, T Claude set up shop as a flight school and charter operator at a little field known as Dutch Flats in the early 1920s.He used a variety of aircraft, including U.S. Army surplus Standard J-1 trainers. Some of Ryan’s most lucrative charters were flights up to Los Angeles, and one day, one of his flight students, Benjamin Franklin Mahoney (B.F. or Frank, to his friends), who suggested that there might be some money to be made in establishing scheduled airline service between San Diego and Los Angeles. Mahoney offered to help fund the venture, if Ryan would provide the planes.

Ryan looked around for a relatively inexpensive, passenger-capable plane, and found none. On the other hand, there were plenty of Standard J-1s lying about. The type was, by all accounts, a terrible airplane. In the midst of WWI, the Army had desperately needed training aircraft, and simply couldn’t get all the Curtiss JN-4 “Jennys” that they wanted, so they bought the J-1 from Standard Aero Corporation of Plainfield, New Jersey.

A major part of the shortcomings of the J-1 can be attributed to the highly unreliable Hall-Scott A7a engine, which was underpowered, vibrated terribly and had a nasty habit of catching fire while in the air. The J-1 had been developed by Standard from the Sloan H-series trainers, originally designed by Charles Day. To meet the production demands by the huge Army orders, three additional companies, Wright-Martin, Dayton-Wright and Fischer Body also began to build J-1s, with over 1,600 being produced. Because of the technical and safety issues (the J-1 had a much higher accident rate than the JN-4), and with sufficient quantities of Jennies now on hand, the Army grounded them in 1918, and many were never even unpacked. An additional 2,700 aircraft were on order when the Armistice was signed, and the Army promptly cancelled these and began dumping the ones they still had.

Thus, after the war, Standards could be picked up for a song, many still in their original shipping crates. When re-engined with an OX-5 or even a more powerful Hispano Suiza, the reliability of the J-1 increased dramatically, and they became popular on the barnstorming circuit and with the private flight schools that were springing up all over the country, like Ryan’s.

Ryan found three “new” J-1s in Texas, bought them for a few hundred dollars, and brought them out to California. When the crates were opened, however what he had was really nothing more than a collection of pieces. Undaunted, he had his mechanics build up the machines, and then began to modify them. In Army service, the J-1 was a two-seater, instructor and student. For the new airline, Ryan re-engineered the fuselage, eliminating the forward open cockpit, and building an enclosed four-place passenger cabin, with large windows for sightseeing, in the fuselage forward of the aft cockpit. He replaced the troublesome 90hp Hall-Scott engine with a 180hp Hispano-Suiza, and suddenly he had a dynamic performer on his hands.

Calling the new variant the “Ryan Standard”, he christened the first ship Oneota after a friend’s ranch. The second was the Miramar and the third, which was further modified with a wider, two-person cockpit, the Palomar. Our featured photo shows the Oneota in flight over San Diego’s waterfront area, and was likely taken very early in the operation - or possibly before it officially started. This photo was used in both news releases about the Line, as well as on the cover of its time table, as can be seen in this sample.

Daily round-trip service commenced on March 1, 1925. (And that is where the claims for the "first airline" differ - Chalk's offered scheduled service, but it wasn't daily. Thus, the Ryan/Mahoney operation could justly claim to be America's first daily-scheduled, year-round airline.) The one-way fare was $14.50, and a round trip cost the princely sum of $22.50, calculated on breakeven costs if only one passenger was on board. The fares also included to/from hotel transportation.

Understanding that a regular airline was going to need a lot of publicity to draw passengers, Ryan invited Hollywood celebrities out to the inaugural round-trip flights, which would start from Los Angeles, flying from a small airfield at 99th Street and Western Ave. All three of the Ryan Standards – one of which would be flown by Ryan himself – would together make the first flight. Other celebs, including Robert Vignola, Hedda Hopper and Vera Reynolds, came down to witness the flight, drawing crowds to see them as much as to see his planes. As a part of the first-flight festivities, three military aircraft, representing both the Army and Navy, were tapped to “escort” the three passenger planes to San Diego.

With the military aircraft orbiting the airfield overhead, the three Ryans climbed skyward at 10am, heading south at 1,500 feet (ideal for sightseeing) for the 90-minute journey. At the same time, two Navy carrier pigeons were also released, a stunt that backfired on the airline, as one of the feathered birds arrived “home” at San Diego’s North Island before the formation of six airplanes landed at their destination just across the narrow harbor.

Naturally, large crowds greeted the arriving stars, complete with the mayor and civic presentations. After lunch at the Grant Hotel and a tour of the city, the stars returned to Dutch Flat for the return trip to LA. The following day, March 2, the regular schedule of 9am L.A. departure and 4pm return flight from San Diego commenced.

A month and a half after service started, on April 19, Mahoney bought half of all of Ryan's business interests, and the two formally became partners, under the name Ryan Airlines. Besides offering travel, Ryan Airlines soon started building and selling airplanes to other carriers as well, the first being the Ryan M-1, six of which were bought by Pacific Air Transport, an early forerunner of United Airlines. Despite its glamorous start, traffic - and revenue - from the San Diego to Los Angeles service started to drop off. To compensate, fares were increased to $17.40 and $26.50, and to further garner publicity and passenger interest, Ryan Airlines bought a larger Douglas Cloudster, which was converted to carry 10 people in carpeted luxury.

It was to no avail, there just wasn’t the needed demand. Even when no pax showed up, they kept the schedule with empty airplanes. In September 1926, the airline service was cancelled. Ryan and Mahoney's partnership was terminated two months later, with Mahoney buying out Claude's interest, but keeping the Ryan Airlines name, and continuing to build airplanes. And five months after that, a young air mail pilot by the name of Charles Lindbergh, who had been impressed with Pacific Air Transport's M-1s, contacted Ryan Airlines to inquire whether they could build a version of the aircraft capable of flying across the Atlantic.

The Palomar was sold to Lewis Hawaiian Tours, who re-christened it the Malolo and flew inter-island and sightseeing tours with it. One of the Lewis pilots was Martin Jensen who later won 2nd place in the tragic 1927 Dole Mainland-to-Hawaii race. The Miramar was sold to the Byerly Brothers in Mexico. It is not known what ended up happening to the Oneota.

The San Diego Air & Space Museum's Flickr stream has a large collection of the airline's Ryan Standards, starting at this image.

(Tip o' the hat to my bro Eric for giving me the photo for Christmas. And credit were credit's due: part of this article was based on information from the article “First Regular Daily Airline Service Was From L.A. to S.D.” by Richard Crawford, San Diego Union-Tribune, March 10, 2011.)

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

America's First Rocketplane

Acme Telephoto wirephoto with an embedded caption. This is the only known
photo of the MX-324 during powered flight, although there are a number of images
extant that were taken during the initial glide testing. Back "in  the day", it was
fairly common for photos to be retouched (yes, even long before Photoshop became
a verb!), and this one is quite heavily retouched, so much so that the caption writer
had to note that "this is an actual photograph". The actual flight took place on July
5, 1944, so presumably this dateline is February 13, 1946.
In 1942, Jack Northrop began to pursue one of his most persistent dreams: to perfect the flying wing. This version, the XP-79, was to be a rocket-powered flying-wing fighter aircraft. To test some of the concepts, he first built three MX-324 test aircraft. One of these was later powered by a rocket motor built by Aerojet Corp. In order for the pilot of both the XP-79 and the MX-324 to withstand the anticipated high-G loads, he would fly lying prone.

The first flight of a MX-324 glider took place on October 2, 1943, at the remote Harper Dry Lake, not far from today's Edwards AFB and Mojave Air and Space Port, where modern rocket plane development is underway. The small aircraft were towed aloft behind a P-38 Lightning. There were several incidents that seriously jeopardized the program. During one of the glide test flights, the pilot pulled the wrong handle when it came time to jettison the tow rope...he had grabbed the escape hatch release by mistake! The aerodynamic changes that this caused led to severe buffeting, but he was able to land safely. On another test flight, one of the MX-324s was lost when the tiny glider got caught in the P-38's prop wash, and entered a spin. When the pilot recovered, he was inverted and lying on the ceiling, unable to reach the flight controls. Instead, he bailed out and parachuted to safety. The -324 continued its gliding descent inverted and was damaged beyond repair on hitting the lakebed.

The engine used on the MX-324 was a 200-pound-thrust Aerojet XCAL-200 liquid-fuel compound rotary rocket, which actually was comprised of several smaller rockets that rotated about an common axis. The fuel was monoethylaniline and red fuming nitric acid.

The first powered flight of the MX-324 took place on July 5, 1944 (some accounts state that it was on July 4, other say it was July 22; date confusion is not surprising, since even the photo of the then-top-secret aircraft wasn't release for two years!) with Northrop test pilot Harry Crosby at the controls. The plane was towed to 8,000 feet, and Crosby then release the tow rope and ignited the engine. The flight lasted only four minutes, 3:30 under rocket power, but was considered a success.

Just over a year later, on September 12, 1945, Harry Crosby was at the controls of the XP-79 prototype when it went out of control during its maiden flight. He was killed while trying to bail out.

Historian's note: there's a lot of confusion about this plane, as would be expected from a secret project conducted during this time period. Besides the variation of first flight dates, even the model designation is in dispute. Northrop historian Ira Chart states that the MX-324 was the unpowered glider and the MX-334 was the powered version. Author Andreas Parsch states the opposite. It is clear, though, that in the official news release accompanying our photo, two years after the flight the powered version was being referred to as the MX-324.

Update: After this posted this morning, I received the following note from one of my Mojave rocket plane friends: "Well... America's third rocketplane, but arguably America's first military rocket plane, as the caption claims. In 1931, William G. Swan flew a rocket glider at Bader Field in Atlantic City. In 1941, Lt. Homer Boushey took off in a JATO-equipped Army Air Corps Ercoupe from which the propeller had been removed. The MX-324 was probably the first airplane designed from the outset for rocket power." Thanks, Randall!

Friday, February 10, 2012

A Visit to Lincoln, Nebraska

A ubiquitous C-47, several of which could be found at every air base during
this time.
Last Friday, we saw some shots taken by a young aviation enthusiast at Scott Field, Illinois in the mid-to-late 1940s. Today, we have some drive-by snapshots that he took at Lincoln Air Force Base in Nebraska.

Clearly the airfield security back then wasn't what it is today!









AT-6D Texan 41-33648. 
8/19/2012 update: This AT-6C, 41-33648, was eventually transferred to the RAF as Harvard II number EX675. It later crashed during a forced landing on 18 April 1950.











(No cowboys here!)

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Cowboy and the Texan Pilot

One kind of Texan meets another??
When my brother, the proprietor of the VonRad Trading Post (shameless plug: Lincoln California's premier antiques emporium), gave me today's glossy vintage 8x10, I was baffled. So was he. What's a cowboy on a horse doing chatting it up with the pilot of a AT-6 Texan? We both agreed: surely there's a story behind this photo...if only we knew what it was.

The plane is likely an early -A model, given the lack of a spinner and the radio antenna mast.

The photo has all the feel of a staged shot. Could it be North American's play on the "Texan" name? Or a movie still? I'm certainly no expert on old films and even older actors, so I'll leave it to any knowledgeable readers to suggest which one. But be sure to check out the pilot's hair: there's no way that he just climbed out of that cockpit and pulled off his helmet and goggles!
The perfect aviator: no helmet hair!

Friday, February 3, 2012

Scott's Superforts

Handwritten on back:
"B-29 Engine"
Today’s series of photos is the first from a collection taken by a young aviation enthusiast (we’ll see more in the coming weeks). While these photos won’t win any awards for photographic excellence, they are nevertheless wonderful snapshots of a very brief moment in time when majestic Boeing B-29s graced Scott Air Force Base in Illinois with their presence.

Anyone with info on the specific aircraft shown is invited to comment!

B-29-86-BW tail number 44-87719.

B-29A-55-BN tail number 44-61956 is on the left; the tail number of the
aircraft on the right is too out-of-focus to read. Handwritten on back
is "B-29s on Runway at Scott Field."
















Update, 8/3/12 - While I've yet to be able to find any detailed information on the B-29s shown, I have found some history of the C-54 at the bottom of this post. As the post originally was written, I surmised that these photos were taken in the early 1950s. However, it is clear by the aircraft data that these were taken sometime in 1945 or '46.

C-54B-1 serial 42-72362 (Douglas c/n 10467), was originally delivered on December 8, 1944, and damaged in a landing accident in Kungming, China, in February 1945. After it was repaired, it was bought back by Douglas and converted to civilian DC-4 specifications. From August 9, 1946 to 1950, it flew with Pan Am, carrying civilian registration N60115; unlike other DC-4/C-54s operated by PAA, it doesn't appear to have been given a "Clipper" name, however. They then leased it to Transocean, before it went on to subsidiary Pan American Grace Airlines (PANAGRA). It was then sold to AeroMéxico and flew as XA-KOK.

Douglas C-54 Skymaster tail number 42-72362.
The plane was then leased to LAMSA (Lineas Aereas Mexicanas, S.A.), and later flew with Fuerza Aérea Mexicana as ETP-7004. It is reported to have been destroyed in an accident at Cozumel, January 11, 1979.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Real Men Don't Fly Pink Airplanes

A slightly haggard-looking William "Pete" Knight walks away from X-15A-2
on October 3, 1967, after setting a world record speed of 4,534 mph. 
The visual image that most folks have of the pioneering and record-setting North American X-15 is of a black airplane, mainly for the reason that the skin was largely made of Inconel, which has a natural black color. There were three X-15s built, and were designated A-1 through A-3. The middle ship, A-2, made 53 powered flights, two of which (in addition to four captive-carry flights) were flown with a distinctive white coating, rather the regular bare black skin. Today's featured image is an Associated Press wirephoto dated October 3, 1967, which shows A-2 after one of those historic flights.

The official caption which accompanies the image reads: "EDWARDS AIR FORCE BASE, Calif., Oct. 3 -- END OF A RECORD FLIGHT -- Air Force Maj. William J. Knight, left, walks away from the X15 at Edwards Air Force Base in California today after flying the plane at a record speed of 4,534 miles per hour. The new mark for wingee [sic] craft, almost seven times the speed of sound, was 284 miles per hour faster than the 4,250 Knight reached in the X15 last Nov. 18. (AP Wirephoto) (see AP wire story)."

Even though the X-15's Inconel skin is, by nature, quite heat tolerant, the aerodynamic heating that was expected at the speeds that the record flights were to be flown far exceeded even this exotic metal. To deal with this, the engineers decided to cover the rocket plane's skin with an ablative, or heat-resistant coating.

This rubbery, pencil eraser-like material had the unfortunate property of also being bright pink.

An official photo of A-2 from the NASA Dryden website.
Officially, the NASA explanation for the white coating, which was applied over the pink, was that the actual ablative material was not fuel resistant, and thus needed additonal protection against damage that could be caused by fuel spills.

The urban legend, told in the hallways at Dryden, however, is that Pete Knight walked into the coatings hangar after the ablative had been applied, and said, "Like hell, I'm gonna fly a pink airplane!" And shortly thereafter, the white coating was added.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Pacific Photo Lightnings

The qualities that made the Lockheed P-38 Lightning such an excellent long-range fighter quickly were quickly recognized as the same ones needed as a successful photo reconnaissance aircraft. So throughout the long production run of the P-38, a number of aircraft were either purpose-built or converted into unarmed photo birds, and given the designation F-4 (for the very early ones) or F-5.

From left to right, the aircraft are: 44-26427 (nose number 7), unk, 44-26424 (nose number 20), 44-2644? (nose number 21)







Today's photo, from an island airfield "somewhere in the Pacific", shows a group of F-5G Photo Lightnings waiting for their next mission. These were converted from a group of regular production P-38L models, which had been the most numerous variant of Lightning produced.

The print that the Archive owns is quite small, with the actual image area shown in the main photo above being only about two inches across. Yet the prints's resolution is amazingly high, so that a good digital scan clearly shows details of the aircraft, including tail numbers.

The F-5G-6 aircraft were all post-production conversions of the P-38L-5 version, performed at Lockheed's Dallas modification center (the F-5B had been the last of the purpose-built recon aircraft; all subsequent F-5 models were post-production mods). The "G" models differed from ealier F-5s in that they had a larger, more bulbous nose designed to accommodate a wider variety of cameras. The nose included a forward-looking window, several downward looking ports, and a large trapezoidal window on each side. According to Aerofiles, no records remain of what serial numbers were converted.

8/19/2012 update: Two of the aircraft shown, 44-26424 and 427, were later destroyed during a typhoon on June 20, 1946, while in storage on Guam.