Iron Modeler

More Hangar Talk, and the so-called "Shelf of Doom"

Howdy, again!

The leaves on the dogwoods are turning, the mornings have become cool and crisp, and that tells me that the seasons are again changing.  I love this time of year.  It was especially nice when I worked in the hangar, as it meant that the sweltering furnace days of summer were once again departing for a while…

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About 15 years ago (and it seems like yesterday!), the shop I was working for gained a new technician.  The boss called us all into the office to let us know what was going on.  See, the new technician was a woman.  He wanted to remind us to be on our best behavior.  As the line from the commercial goes, he wanted “no fussin’, no cussin’, and no backtalkin’”...

When she started, I asked her about her experience.  And boy, did she have a lot of aviation experience—I think she held most every certificate that was available.  She held an A&P IA, DME, pilot commercial multi-engine, both land and seaplane, sailplanes, you name it.  She owned her own shop for a while, too.  She was also very cool—she fully realized she was a lady in a man’s world, but that didn’t faze her.  She was put on one of the install teams initially, working on Cessna Citations back in the day when we were retrofitting them to comply with the Reduced Vertical Separations Minimums (RVSM) requirements.  The mods were simple, really—we replaced the air data computers, re-certified the pitot-static systems, and did flight tests after the fact.  Like me when I started at this shop, she had a lot of rust to knock off, but once she did, she was working at the same pace as the rest of us.

All the while, we were careful to mind our p’s and q’s.  We tempered our language—we kept a pretty “clean” shop as it was, but every now and then someone would utter an expletive.  We also tried to mind our manners—no rude noises, etc.  So far, things were going well.

About three or four months into her stint with us, we brought a Citation in for more than just the RVSM mods—we were also going to update the ancient radios with new Garmin units, which meant a lot more work.  Unlike most shops in the region, we removed the old wiring that wasn’t going to be retained (usually, that meant the output wiring to the navigation indicators and the autopilot), and that meant some tedious picking and choosing, looking at wire numbers that were less than 1/16” tall on small gauge (22 American Wire Gauge—AWG), so it takes some time.  At first, you feel as if you are walking in mud, but once you get the hang of it, it moves quicker.

There are pitfalls.  One of the other technicians dared to remove all the bundle ties on a bundle, and then started tugging wires out of it.  That creates some chaos—like putting the toothpaste back in the tube, it sometimes becomes difficult.  Sure, all the wires came out of that bundle, but the bundle was tied on a harness board, so all the wires weren’t necessarily the same length.  He got the bundle re-tied, but in the process, the bundle was shortened.  He did his best to re-connect it to the bulkhead feed-through connector. 

Our new girl started to do the next phase of the work.  She asked us to come and help her find landmarks, and as we were standing there looking at the feed through panel, she noticed the re-tied bundle.  Now, she was all of five-feet nothing, and very quiet and polite.  Until now.  She looked at the bundle (which was tight as a banjo string), looked at each of us in turn, then pointed at it and exclaimed “What in the fuck do you call this?!?”

After that, the gloves were off.  We found out her father was a Marine, and that she could cuss better than all the rest of us combined.  We all got along famously after that.

She became the shop crew chief in 2004, and briefly managed the shop.  I loved working with her, because she worked as hard as we did.  If we were working overtime, she’d be there with us (unlike the manager she replaced, a guy who had no clue what avionics were let alone how they worked).  More times than not, when we were required to work weekends, she would make breakfast for the crew.  When I say she would make breakfast, I mean exactly that—she would cook breakfast in her own kitchen and bring it to us.  No sack of Egg McMuffins or Bojangle’s biscuits would do, not from her…and she would go far over and above.  For four technicians, she’d have pancakes, waffles, fruit, toast, omelets, grits, and some form of juice.  Like my mother, she would make five times as much as she actually needed.

I think the push from upper management created too much stress (I found this to be true when I managed the same shop after she left), so she resigned when the FAA offered her a Safety Inspector position.  She’s been working for the FAA since 2006.

Speaking of ladies in the hangar and rude noises, I’m reminded of a more recent story, which I may tell you at some point…
 

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The new job is going swimmingly.  Of course, it has created a need—I need a new computer.  And there is nothing I hate more than buying a new computer.  Why?  Because I know the machine I buy that is state-of-the-art today will be obsolescent in a month…

Like buying a new car, you go into the deal knowing that the model you pay out big bucks for today will not be worth a tenth of that in a week.  Oh, well, it is a necessity, and I think I have found a decent machine that will do what I need.  Of course, I also need to get a couple of large displays to make my life easier, too, and I think I found a pair that fit the bill. 

I’ll probably pull the trigger later this week.  Then comes the joy of configuring it and getting it to gee and haw with the remote desktop

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On the model front, the majority of the backlog cabinet is done.  Some call this the "Shelf of Doom" for some odd reason--I simply look at it as a collection of models that needed some time to percolate while I solved problems.  In other cases, they were long-term projects from the start--vac-form kits, especially, tend to need more thought and engineering than a standard injection-molded plastic or cast resin kit.  Rather than push the issue, I merely put them aside to give me time to hash out the details.

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The Aeroclub 1/48^th scale Gloster Gamecock is in need of serial numbers, a final clear coat, and some small details.  It was a fun project—my first vac-form kit since 2001, my first rigged airplane since 2000, and my first biplane model since 1995.  Frankly, I wasn’t real happy with it before I rigged it and started adding all the little bits and bobs to add detail.  I’m actually now quite pleased with the result.  Is it accurate?  I don’t know, maybe 97%.  Is it to scale?  Hell, no, but that’s always the way—we make certain trade-offs in order to make a model look right in the end analysis.

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Also complete is a Reheat Models 120mm SR-71/U-2 pilot, a figure that was sitting in the display case three-quarters of the way done, has been finished.  Honestly, all I needed to do was add the completed air conditioner pack, some hoses and small details (photoetched bits, some fine wire, and paint), and do some minor touch-ups.  I don’t recall what the hold-up was—perhaps the flag?  That was perhaps the easiest part—I used a decal from an old Liveries Unlimited sheet…

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I also dusted off a Bluejacket Shipcrafters’ 1/192^nd scale USS Monitor.  I shelved it a few years ago when the turret did not come out the way I had hoped.  I tried to salvage it, but in the end, I decided to scratchbuild one.  I also used .020” styrene sheet, suitably scribed, to replicate the deck, and will use varying thicknesses of primer to do the same for the hull plates.  I also have some good photos of the actual turret under restoration, so I want to add some of the more prominent details there.

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The 1/12^th scale Ernst Udet bust I started as a face painting demonstration is also finished.  Again, a few hours with some paint, and it was done.  It had been sitting on the bench for several years, and I would pick at it every now and then.  Funny how that works. 

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The last one in the queue is a Reheat 120mm figure of Neil Armstrong on the moon.  I had assembled it when I lived in Florida, and it had been sitting ever since.  In the interceding time, I learned of some discrepancies on the figure, especially some of the details of the A7-L suit Neil wore.  The more I looked, the more I found.  Fortunately, they were all fixable

The legs are particularly bad-Reheat modeled four cargo pockets on the suit.  Rather large cargo pockets.  On the Apollo 11 A7-L suits, the shins had no pockets, only reinforcement panels.  The right thigh had a flap that covered the Urine Collection Device and medical ports.  And the left thigh had a flat pouch for checklists.  The fix?  Sand and cut away all the fictitious things and replace them.  In this case, all but the left thigh pockets were sanded flush—I tried to retain as much of the fold/crease detail as I could.  The left thigh pocket was sanded down, but not totally away.  Then, I broke out the Apoxie Scuplt epoxy putty. 

The putty was mixed and rolled thin between sheets of wax paper.  The sheet of epoxy putty was then cut into shapes and placed onto the figure.  Some pressure from my fingers pushed the putty into shape, then a toothpick and a scribe were used to work the various shapes onto the figure and to continue the fold/crease detailing.  Water was used to keep the putty pliable and to prevent it from sticking to the tools.  Once everything was as I liked it, I used a brush and some Aves Safety Solvent to smooth everything out.  After curing overnight, the figure was buffed with a Scotchbrite pad and primed. 

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That leaves only one model in work, and it will remain is stasis for the time being.  It is a 1999-issue of the Minicraft Models 1/144^th scale C-32 (Boeing 757-200) that I initially began as part of a decal review.  The more I looked, and the more the airliner modeling community examined the kit, massive issues came to light.  The trailing edges were too thick, the vertical tail was too short, and the wings were misaligned—one sat higher than the other by a not inconsiderable margin.  I had started to thin the trailing edges and figure out a solution to the misalignment when I lost interest in the project.  However, in recent months Zvesda from Ukraine has produced a gorgeous new kit of the airplane, and rather than practice bleed using the Minicraft kit, I will build the Zvesda example.  Whether I use the decals I was initially reviewing is still up in the air, but at this point the Minicraft kit will become a paint mule…

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Of course, I still have my buddy Rick’s SIDNA kits (a Fujimi A-7B and a pair of Hasegawa F-16's in 1/72nd scale) that are in various stages of construction, and I have pondered dragging them out after these few remaining kits are checked off the list.  But the fact that my personal backlog is empty (or nearly so) is a big deal—at one point, I counted a dozen projects in work, and this was over and above the projects for the RIPCORD diorama…

That’s all I have for now.  Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, look after one another, and, as always, I bid you Peace.

Tales from the Hangar, Part 2

Howdy!

 

Being located in Ft. Lauderdale, our customer base was quite varied and eclectic.  One of the more colorful characters we knew was a charter boat captain for hire who owned a Cessna 177 Cardinal.  The Cardinal was a sleek version of the venerable 172 Skyhawk—the windscreen was laid back and the design placed the pilot forward of the wing’s leading edge, the wing featured a laminar-flow airfoil, and it lacked the lift struts that were featured on the 172.  Intended to replace the Skyhawk, the Cardinal was only in production for 10 years.  Cardinal Owners are a proud bunch—they are quite loyal to the “swoopy 172”…

Our customer would come to us once every two years for the biennial transponder, altimeter, and pitot-static system certification.  If he brought it to us outside that, it had to be fairly serious, bordering on catastrophic. 

 

He was an Australian, and there were only three of us in the shop who could decipher his thick Aussie accent into American.  He called one day, and left a message.  By the time the boss heard it, the guy had called back several more times, in a bit of a panic.  It turned out that he had a power feed for some sort of portable device, the exact nature of which I cannot recall, that wasn't providing power to the device in question.  It was in the early days of GPS, but it may have been a hand-held COM radio.  Anyway, whatever it was wasn’t getting power.

The boss went across the ramp to investigate.  Sure enough, there was no voltage at the end of the cable.  He came back to the shop to get some tools—that usually meant he dragged me across the ramp with my tools, since he didn’t have his tool bag in the shop most of the time.  We grabbed a few bicycles and pedaled across the ramp.  The boss opened the baggage compartment door—a square opening with rounded corners that measured about 24” square—pulled the interior panel, and gained access to the battery to check things out.

The customer, who always referred to himself as “a poor boat captain”, wanted to help.  I guess he figured the bill wouldn’t be so bad if he pitched in.  As the boss wigged his way into the baggage compartment to look things over, our poor boat captain was in his hip pocket.  We had to remind him that there wasn’t really enough room for one, let alone two, in that compartment.  We finally got him to hang back as we went to work.

The boss’s hand poked out of the door, grasping a fuse.  I checked it with a meter, and it was good.  I handed the fuse back.  Next, I saw a short tail of a wire in his hand with a hand-written tape flag on it.  Before I could get close enough to see, our poor boat captain stuck his head inside.  I heard a muffled question, and the boat captain moved closer and asked to repeat the question.

“What does that say?” came the question.

“Wot?” asked the customer.

 

“What does that tape flag say?”

“Wot’s a tape flag, mate?” 

“The tape, it has something written on it!  What does it say?”  The boss was getting hot—literally.  It was late July in South Florida, so the temperatures were in the high 90’s outside.  Inside that battery compartment was probably closer to 105 degrees.

“It says ‘tab’”, our captain says.

I looked at the scene with a puzzled look on my face.  “Tab”?  What the hell is “tab”?

I heard the boss call for me.  I asked the boat captain to move aside.  The boss said, “Look at that tape flag and tell me what it says…”

“BAT”, I said.  “I guess it is supposed to the battery.”

It was connected to ground, as was the other conductor of the pair of wires. 

Apparently, our poor boat captain decided to install this by himself to save about $40 in labor.  He never connected the positive wire to the voltage source—in this case, the positive terminal of the battery.  Both wires were tucked under the battery's ground terminal...

From that day on, whenever he would call, the whole shop would put on our best “Crocodile Dundee” accents:  “We got one from the poor boat cap’n, mates!  Fosters all around!  Shrimp on the barbie later…”

“It says ‘tab’!” became an inside joke.  He was a good sport about it.  He would come by and be what we called a "hangar bum" every so often, even after the company started to send the piston maintenance work away so they could concentrate on Learjets.

Unfortunately, the airplane was destroyed one night when somebody broke into the maintenance hangar and set fire to it, using the Cessna as the closest source of an accelerant—the arsonist opened the wing fuel cocks and threw a match.  The airplane was disassembled for an annual inspection, and the only parts that survived were the wing tips and the cowling.  The rest was a pile of ash with a well-done engine block sitting on top.

As any true Cessna Cardinal fan would do, he bought another with the insurance money.  But he forgot to do one important thing—get a pre-purchase survey.  Had he done so, we would have told him to pass or renegotiate—it had a dated stack of Narco radios in it, and those radios took a fair amount of upkeep…

But that's another story for another time.

 

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As I type this, I am back among the ranks of the gainfully employed.  I am working remotely for a company that writes supplemental maintenance documents for a major airframe manufacturer.  So far, it has been a lot to absorb...

 

I’ve been introduced to the modern method of aviation technical writing, using tools like Adobe FrameMaker and XML.  As I told my trainer, the content isn’t the problem—I have used similar manuals for many years.  Figuring out how FrameMaker works and where to get the basic data I need to write from are the challenges.  But I’m doing well and actually having fun—I had been told FrameMaker is a bit of a nightmare, but once you understand how it is structured (and that it is structured, unlike the way most of us use MS Word), it works quite well and is easy to use.  Now, we have the frames templates (I believe in some conventions it is called "schema") already established, so I can’t say what it is like establishing the frames themselves, so…

My writing has come a long way since I first used WordStar, EasyWriter, WordPerfect, and AppleWorks back in the day.

 

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With the Phantom Menace behind me—the 1/72^nd scale 43 Squadron Phantom FG.1 got finished a few weeks ago--I’ve moved on to other projects.  The primary effort was intended to be the Aeroclub 1/48^th scale Gloster Gamecock Mk.I, I’ve had in progress since around 2016, but I also wanted a quickie. 

 

As I looked at the stacks, I remembered that I bought the Authentic Airliners 1/144^th scale Convair 440 kit a few years ago (I also bought their CV-580—I will probably have to draw the artwork myself for the livery I want to place upon it).  I also acquired the Vintage Flyer decal sheet that featured the Delta Air Lines airplanes, so I got started.

 

These kits are very nice, indeed.  Actual construction only took a few evenings—the joy of well-done resin kits is their easy and quick assembly.  Before I knew it, I had it in primer (Badger’s white Stynylrez—I have mixed opinions).  A few more short paint sessions, and it is now sitting in its drawer, waiting for decals.

 

The base is interesting—I’m using a genuine Delta Air Lines cutting board that I picked up at one of their surplus sales during the annual Airliner Collectibles Shows held at the museum.  I used my normal method of painting a section of mat board to resemble the terminal ramp—in this case, the ramp around the old Hartsfield jet terminal where the Renaissance Atlanta Airport now stands.

 

The Gamecock was ready for paint—at least, as ready for paint as it was going to be—so I primed it in preparation for final colors, too.  I decided that it would be marked as a 43 Squadron airplane, too (they named themselves “The Fighting Cocks” when they equipped with the type) so I laid out and cut the checkerboard markings with tape.  The airplane is now painted and clear coated, but is it nowhere near being finished.  I still have to make the wing struts, exhaust, cabane struts, and a bunch of other parts.  But it is one step closer to being completed, so that makes me happy…

I will probably try to paint all but the serials on this one.  I still need to dig up the closest paint matches for RAF roundel red and roundel blue, circa 1927, but the rest should be easy.  The serials are a unique type face, so I’ll probably have to draw them in Inkscape and print them onto decal film.

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Reunion planning is progressing nicely. 

 

I've been asked why this one seems to be more important to me than the previous reunions.  I missed the previous events due to various instances of "life getting in the way".  This one, our 40th, may well be the last one many of my classmates will make.  Our class motto was "The Chosen Few".  Well, the laws of nature dictate that we will become fewer in the years to come.  We lost one classmate less than two weeks ago to complications of diabetes and COVID-19, and another is fighting Stage 4 colorectal cancer and the prognosis isn't good.  One of our reunion chairs has early-onset Parkinson's, and only through DBS surgery has she been able to continue a semblance of a normal life.

 

So, I'm planning to go this year.  In my advanced sentimentalism, I've realized that you don't go to see.  You go to be seen.  You go to reconnect with friends, and to (belatedly) make new ones.

That’s all I have for this installment.  Thanks for reading!  Be good to one another, and as always, I bid you Peace.

Some Insight

Howdy, all!

Last time out, I made a comment that my hobby of scale modeling led to my career/vocation paths.  To refresh your memory, they were (in no particular order) history, aviation, research, writing, and hanging out at the hobby shop.

This is one of those "about me for myself" pieces I talked about last time, but I thought this one might be fun to share.

When my father brought home a Revell 1/32 scale Wildcat model kit, I don't think he realized the vast worlds he was opening up to me. 

I was an early reader.  I've been told that I could read before I was four years old.  As I got older, I loved to read.  I would read pretty much anything I could get my hands on.  When we started building that model, I was only concerned about the three-dimensional puzzle in the box.  However, one night, as I waited for Dad to come to the table for our modeling session, I started to read the side of the box.  Then I noticed that the instruction sheet contained more than just how to get the parts together—the front page had a capsule history of the airplane and its exploits during WWII.  Before I read it, I just thought the little pudgy airplane looked neat, but as I read about how it was the Navy’s front line fighter airplane in the early days of the war, and how it was flying against faster, more maneuverable enemy airplanes, my interest grew.  I looked for books in the school library about the war, and learned about the Battles of the Coral Sea, the Battle of Midway, Wake Island, and the Solomons.  Each new discovery led me to learn more.  I’d find one nugget that would lead me to three more. 

That’s research, kids.  I do a lot of research to this day—most of what I do uses what are known as secondary sources, so it is technically “Research Lite” (Less Filling!  Tastes Great!), although I did start to use primary sources when we were up to our necks in the Fire Support Base RIPCORD project a year or so ago.  What’s the difference?  Primary sources are from either official accounts from the units involved or from the guys who were actually there and participated.  SITREPS, diaries, After Action reports, first hand witnesses—those are all primary source materials.  Secondary sources are what you find on the shelves at the local Barnes and Noble—books written about events where the author may (or may not) have used primary sources.  (As “true” researchers know, you take all secondary sources with a grain of salt…)

As I researched things, I’d write about them.  I wrote a lot of book reports, sure, but sometimes I’d write just for myself.  They were more a collection of notes, but every now and then I would collect those thoughts into an article for the local modeling club newsletter.  I laid off writing for a while, but with the COVID shutdown I’ve managed to get a little of my groove back, and have once again been pumping out modeling articles, and they’re now being published in the national organizations’ magazines. 

The more models I built, the more I wanted to build.  Unfortunately, like most things, it takes money to acquire and build models.  By the time I hit high school, I was at the age where I started to take my modeling more seriously.  A long-time modeler and author, Roscoe Creed, made mention of it when he “wondered where all the cracks went?” in one of his books  a book that I still refer to from time to time. 

I wanted to get rid of the seam lines.  I wanted to make it look like the pictures of the actual item.  As I learned of such things, I began using putty, decal setting solutions, these new-fangled super glues, and an airbrush.  Like the kits themselves, that stuff isn’t free.  More experience led me to discover the then-emerging world of the aftermarket—decals were the first thing I think most modelers encounter from the aftermarket, but later things like photoetched brass details, white metal and resin parts, vac-form kits, and other additions and conversions also became part of my repertoire.

Of course, by doing so, I was honing my skills as a craftsman and, dare I say, artist.  I was learning how to solve problems.  I developed a sense of spatial relationships--how stuff goes together.  It goes without saying that I developed a good eye for small details. 

After I graduated from college, I started to visit the local shop more frequently.  I became a regular, and eventually I was asked if I wanted to do some fill-in work.  Before long, I was a regular part-time employee, and would remain so until I moved out of state.  During a layoff period about 10 years later, I got a job at the local hobby shop here.  I was only there for a few months, but when my next full-time employer picked up and left, I went to work for the shop again. 

What helped me get the job, I think, is that I was familiar with all the stuff one needed to complete a model.  I was also interested in going the extra mile when I built my models, and I knew what that took, so I could guide others when they came looking for hobby stuff.  Many see retail sales as a drag, but I saw it as a chance to get paid while playing with toys.  Hence, my days hanging out at the hobby shop...

Now, how about the aviation thing…

I have no idea what first got me hooked on airplanes.  Perhaps it was the Wildcat model.  More likely, it was reading of the exploits of the men who flew them in the war; the Wildcat model was merely the first step on the path.  For many years, I wasn’t interested in a book if (A) it was not related to aviation; or (B) the word “fiction” was not preceded by “non”.  I have to believe it was that—the more I read, the more I learned, and the more I wanted to be part of that world.  Interestingly, I never really wanted to be a pilot.  I can’t say why, I just never saw that as where I would be.  More on that shortly…

In my day, teachers were almost always matronly ladies in their late 30’s to early 50’s.  However, my fourth grade teacher was an exception.  I guess she was in her late 20’s--I seem to recall she had only recently received her teaching credentials at that time.  She was a pretty, petite, energetic lady, blonde with a deep tan, and was always smiling.  Her name was Miss Gerstle (Nancy, if I recall correctly).  Her last name rhymes with the chocolate company’s name, and we often called her “Miss Nestlé-Gerstle”.  From the little bit I managed to gather on her by listening to her, she lived with a few roommates and they all worked on the weekends as flight attendants (we called them “stewardesses” back in the day) for Mackey Airlines, a small scheduled airline that flew from Ft. Lauderdale to the Bahamas, in order to earn a little extra money. 

I don’t know if she lined it up, but one day we took a field trip to Ft. Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport and got to walk around some airplanes.  I seem to recall a Mackey airplane, maybe a DC-6, and it sat next to an Eastern Airlines (IIRC) 727 which was powered up, and we could walk through it.  We spent a few hours walking around the airplanes, asking questions, and talking with the pilots and “stews”.  I loved it.

An interesting tidbit—when I graduated from college and landed my first “adult” job, I worked from that same ramp, by that time occupied by the National Jets/Florida Aircraft Leasing facilities.  Small world, right? 

I don’t know what happened to Miss Gerstle, but wherever she is, I hope she is still smiling brightly and doing well.  She was a breath of fresh air for me…

Later, while going through the steps to earn my Aviation merit badge, somehow I got what we call today a “Discovery Flight”.  We went to the airport bright and early, got the whole briefing, got to do the preflight on the airplane, then we went out for a flight over Ft. Lauderdale.  Sitting in the pilot seat, I couldn’t see over the glareshield! I enjoyed the flight, but decided that while it looked like fun, I wasn't interested in being a pilot. 

As I started high school, I was shunted into what we would call a STEM program—back in those days, it didn’t have a name, but it put me on a track that emphasized math and science.  We only had to take two science and two math classes over four years, but I had four of each.  Somewhere along the line, it was intimated that I should become an aeronautical engineer, but as I related a long time ago, that didn’t work out so well.  But I never abandoned my interest, and eventually went back to school and earned two degrees from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University that said I had what it took to be a genuine wire stringer, smoke wrangler, electron herder, and spark chaser—I became an avionics technician.

For most of my 30+ years chasing sparks, I worked in the world of corporate aviation—Learjets were my bread and butter, along with Hawkers and Citations.  From time to time, I also worked on General Aviation craft—the little Cessna and Piper “puddle jumpers” that you see at your local airport—and business class turboprops like the Beechcraft King Air and Cessna Conquest families.

It was a demanding career, to be sure.  I worked in 100+ degree heat and 20 degree cold.  I worked in the sun, the rain, and sometimes even snow.  Many times, we worked from “can” to “can’t”—we did what we needed to do to keep ‘em flying.  It was hot, dirty, demanding work at times—especially at my last stop, where I was also the airframe electrician.  If something provided electrical power or had a wire or air data line leading to it, it was in my wheelhouse.

I was always acutely aware that if I failed in my job, people could be injured or killed in a most loud and grotesque manner.  I accepted the challenge.  Not everybody is cut out for such a critical job, and as I began to supervise others, that would be my first question to them.  If they were cavalier or flip, I wouldn’t hire them.  If you wanted to work with me, you had to not only be aware of the consequences of your actions, you had to accept that any little deviation, a nanosecond of inattention, and you could possibly kill someone…

Incidentally, I don’t really like to fly.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that 95% of the flying I have done in my lifetime has been done because I *had* to in the line of duty.  Flying for me was almost a mandatory thing, and much like running on a treadmill—we made a lot of noise and expended a lot of effort to basically go nowhere--it quickly became work. 

For most folks, flying is a way to get from what you know to an unexplored exotic location on the other side of the globe, some sort of personal adventure, and flying is merely a gateway to that adventure.  It is quite different when you know how the sausage is made and have to do it every day.

When the folks I was working for picked up stakes and left in 2016, I stayed put.  I decided that my days of crawling around on hard hangar floors or cramming myself into ever smaller spaces were behind me.  Since I had done a lot of the documentation that aircraft modifications required, I decided to use my writing skills and my avionics knowledge to start down the path to being a Technical Writer.  My mother, who taught Latin, always said that I had technical hands and a liberal arts brain, and this seemed to be the best of both worlds.

And that’s how scale modeling made me who I am today.  A gift from my father awakened an interest in history, and also fed my reading and research habit.  What I learned through my reading led to an interest in aviation, helped along by a teacher and a merit badge.  The technical aspects of the hobby sharpened my problem solving skills, helped me develop good hand-eye coordination and spurred me to develop a keen eye for small details and a sense of craftsmanship and artistry.  The marriage of all this led to where I am right now. 

And it started with a model airplane.

Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, and look after each other.  As always, I Bid you Peace.

Tales From the Hangar

Howdy, all…

My Facebook feed is mostly pictures of cats and models, links to music videos, and history tidbits.  A few months ago, I noted the celebration of the first flight of the Cessna Citation.  In my narrative, I said “Cessna’s first jet flies”, and was taken to task by someone who corrected me—Cessna’s first jet was their Model 318, aka the XT-37 trainer. 

The Cessna T-37, designed as an economical basic jet trainer for the U.S. Air Force, featured side-by-side seating for the instructor pilot and student and was powered by a pair of Teledyne-Continental Aviation and Engineering (CAE) J69-T-9 or (T-37B) -25 single-spool centrifugal flow turbojet engines (license-built copies of the French Turbomeca Marboré).  Between the engine design and the inlet design, the airplane had a rather recognizable sound.  Because of the bulbous canopy and the high-pitched engine sounds, it was alternately called “Tweety Bird” (usually shortened to “Tweet”), “Screamin’ Mimi”, “Kerosene Converter” (it converted JP4, aka Jet fuel—which is basically highly refined kerosene—to noise), and “6,000-Pound Flying Dog Whistle”. 

Scanning the feed a day or so ago, I noted that it was the anniversary of the mighty Cessna Tweet’s first flight, which reminded me of something I experienced in my early days as a spark chaser.  Let’s get in the Wayback Machine and travel to 1989…or maybe it was 1990…

We got a phone call from the owner of a 1947 Beechcraft “Bonanza” (aka the “Fork-Tailed Doctor Killer”).  The gentleman told us he was having some problems with his COM radio, and asked us if we had time that day to take a look at it.  We told him to bring it on, and after he arrived we started to debrief him as to the nature of the problem.  He was an older man, jolly and friendly—he reminded me a lot of Burl Ives as Santa Claus riding a Norelco razor head as it slid down a snow-covered hill.

He said his transmitter was noisy—according to him, the actual symptom varied from “hash” (a low rush of static) to a low whistle any time he keyed the microphone.  Some further prodding yielded more of the story—it was a new radio, recently installed by a shop that had a monthly two-page center spread advertisement in “Trade-A-Plane” and “Aero Trader”.  These guys were sort of the “Crazy Eddie” of the avionics world, promising to turn lead to gold in an hour at a discount price.  He told us that they did the job while he waited, which raised all sorts of alarms—on an airplane that old, there were a lot of tripwires that could delay completion of even a simple job.  Anyway, he filled out a Work Order and we got to work.

When this airplane was built, it was built with no radios—that’s simply how they did it back then.  As time wore on, and more air traffic filled the skies, the need for radio communications arose.  Then came a need for some sort of aerial navigation system, then a secondary radar (aka an ATC Transponder), and pretty soon, avionics became a thing.  This airplane previously had an older NAV/COM and transponder installed (probably sometime in the late 1960’s), and they were both recently replaced with new radios, as noted above.  The transponder was working fine, the customer said, as was the NAV.  Only the COM transmitter was giving him problems.  Or so he said…

A quick visual inspection of the airplane indicated that the antennas were older types.  They weren’t the best antennas to use with a modern (well, “modern” for the late 1980’s) radio, but a quick consultation with the installation manuals and a quick phone call to the radio manufacturer in Fort Washington, Pennsylvania (you old time airplane guys know what that means!) allowed that yes, they could be used—they weren’t optimal, but they were allowable.  We checked them for good ground plane and electrical bonding, and they looked as good as 20-something year old antennas could. 

The airplane had only a COM and a NAV for audio sources.  The microphone wires were connected directly to the microphone jack, and the NAV and COM headphone audio—did I mention that this airplane didn’t have a cockpit speaker?—was controlled through an unlabeled toggle switch.  In the UP position, the COM audio went to the headphones, DOWN and the NAV audio was heard.  Not ideal, but workable.  We made a label for the switch functions, stuck it on the instrument panel, and continued.

We checked the airplane’s battery—a low battery level can cause some problems, even though modern radios were more tolerant of low voltage conditions.  The battery checked out, so we did some radio checks sitting on the ramp apron outside the hangar.  Calling the shop wasn’t bad, but a call to Ft. Lauderdale Ground resulted in a reply of “garbled”.  So, the problem varied with distance.  We decided to do some checks with the engine running.  Again, calling a hundred yards to the hangar was okay, but a call to Ground resulted in another “garbled” reply.  We varied the engine RPMs to see if the problem varied with power (indicating a possible generator/alternator issue), but it remained more or less consistent—the transmission was low level audio surrounded by hash.  Every now and then we’d note a low-level whine, too, but the hash was the main issue.

We also noted that the NAV indicator needle tended to “windshield wiper” at times, and the NAV audio had some noise in it, too.  These signs—the weak audio, the weak transmitter at distance, and the erratic navigation needle swings--pointed to bad shielding on the antenna cables and signal wires, and possibly defective antennas and antenna cables.   

We taxied back to the hangar and removed the radio for a bench check—as my boss hammered into my young head many times, “You have to know what you know”.  In other words, we weren’t to assume just because it was a new radio that the radio wasn’t at fault.  We handed the radio off to our bench guy, and he ran it through a functional check.  Everything looked good.

With the radio out, we examined the installation.  The hole in the panel had been enlarged with what appeared to be a chain saw.  The radio mounting rack (“can”) wasn’t very secure, and the forward end wasn’t supported.  We removed the can to get to the wiring.  The wiring—well, let’s say the wiring wasn’t tidy (“mouse nest” more aptly describes what we found).  The wires were stretched tightly behind the instrument panel, and the bundle—if you could call it that—was poorly tied and secured.

Audio lines are shielded wires—the conductors that carry the signals are surrounded by a metallic braid.  This braid acts as a sort of antenna that receives potential noise to keep it off of the signal lines.  The braid would be connected to an airframe ground at one end to shunt the noise to ground (these days, the shield is grounded at all ends, because radio technology has changed and requires stricter High Intensity Radiated Fields, or HIRF, protection).  The antenna feeds are coaxial cables--in this time period, it was RG-58A/U 50-ohm impedance cable with a single braid (more modern radios have low-loss cables with multiple braids and foil shields, again to combat HIRF).  We reasoned that the old cables were probably re-used with the old antennas, because aging cables could have multiple problems, from corrosion to deteriorating shield and/or dielectric insulator.   

The audio wiring in this installation may as well have had no shielding at all.  The audio pairs from the COM and NAV to the switch were unshielded twisted pairs.  The one audio wire that was shielded was the twisted triple conductor for the microphone audio.  The installer didn’t do a good job in terminating the shield—through chance or by sheer luck, he managed to get a few strands of one end of the shield tied to the radio’s power ground.  The audio selector switch was a low-quality switch of the type you might find at Radio Shack (or, as it was also known, “Tandy Avionics”).  The wires were also too short, and it was under tension as routed.  The first thing we thought was that we might as well have the whole mess removed and replaced with a proper harness and new antennas, but that would take quite a while to accomplish.  We showed the customer what we found, and explained just how poor this job was, and that it really needed to be re-accomplished from the beginning.  He wasn’t going for it.  His jolly nature was beginning to recede…

We were told to do what we could with what was there.  After untying the harness (such as it was), we found places where we could get a bit of slack in the harness.  The unshielded audio wires were replaced with properly shielded wires.  We extended the power and ground wires to further alleviate the banjo string tension of the harness.  Finally, we inspected the wires to the NAV indicator, and they looked acceptable.  Our senior installer had a look and gave his seal of approval.

After the wiring was addressed, we looked at the antenna cables.  As we feared, the cables were in bad shape.  The connectors were poorly installed (and these were new connectors installed on the old cables), so they were removed.  We noted some green corrosion between the braid and the dielectric, the jacket was hard and brittle, and the dielectric was crumbling, so we got approval to run a new antenna cables.  We reasoned that while we had everything open, now was the time to make it right. 

We finished our work and called for an inspection.  The shop inspector gave us a thumbs-up, and we closed up the work areas and taxied out for a final check.  The radio checked out good on the ground, all that was needed was an in-flight check.  We told the customer that he really needed to get those antennas replaced.  He said he would do that when he got to his home airport, he paid the bill (grousing about every last nickel we charged him, too!), and prepared to leave.  His jolliness had by now turned to grumpiness.

“What does all this have to do with the T-37?” you’re asking.

I’m getting to that. 

As our customer started up and taxied across the ramp, a T-37A was sitting at our FBO—we had the military fuel contract at Ft. Lauderdale, and this guy was on a cross country training flight and needed fuel.  As we headed out to the ramp to watch our customer depart, we heard the Tweet fire up its engines—an event difficult to miss, since even a deaf man could hear the banshee-like wail of the J69s.  As the Tweet pilot went through his preflight checks, the airplane sat there, whistling away.

We also watched as our customer taxied away from the hangar, rolled up directly alongside the jet, set his parking brake, and attempted to call the tower for his departure clearance.  After a few minutes, the customer turned back to the hangar.  We didn’t know what was going on, but we had an idea as to why.  Our bench guy confirmed our thoughts.  He had been monitoring the radio in the shop, and when the customer keyed his microphone, the only sound transmitted was the ear-piercing screech of two J69s at idle.  The controllers in the tower never heard his voice, only the sound of the jets.  Our bench guy came out of the shop and told us what was going on as the customer taxied up.

The customer shut the airplane down and climbed out—and boy, was he hot!  “You have no clue what you’re doing!  The problem is worse than it was before!  I want my money back!”  Frankly, I was worried that he would have a stroke or massive coronary right there on the ramp, he was shouting so loud.

The boss pointed to the diminutive jet trainer, by now taxiing out to the runway.  The noise was still ear-splitting—even more so with the increased power settings needed for the airplane to taxi.  “You were sitting right next to that when you tried to call the tower.  Try again!” the boss shouted to him.

Red-faced, the customer got into his airplane, started up, and departed without further incident.

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I’m in the middle of a belated annual sports let-down.  COVID-19, I don’t think I have to tell you, threw a large wrench into the sprockets of the major sports series.  Since my annual yardstick tends to be measured by the various sporting events and seasons, this year a lot got bunched up in the past six weeks.  So, instead of having a few months between events, they all came or are coming up in the space of about eight weeks.  The Stanley Cup, the U.S. Open (tennis), the French Open, The Masters, Sebring, World Series, NBA Championships, they’ll all be back to back this year.

Also, several events I like to watch were cancelled:  Wimbledon, the races at Watkins Glen and Pocono, some of the NHRA drag races…

After all this is over, I am hoping we can get a handle on COVID-19 and next year can reset to whatever the new normal will be.

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Other events effected by COVID-19, and I’ve mentioned this in passing, have been scale model shows.  We were on the calendar for the Third Annual South Carolina Scale Model Mega Show in June.  In April, we decided to postpone until August, and in July we finally pulled the plug.  Most other local and regional shows were postponed or cancelled.  The two big shows in the U.S., the IPMS/USA National Convention and the AMPS International convention were also cancelled, the latter after being initially moved from Harrisburg, PA to Danbury CT and postponed.  Scale Modelworld in Telford as well as the Shizouka Hobby Show were also cancelled.

                                              *     *     *     *    *     *     * 

So, with all this time on my hands, I should be a model building fool, right?  Not so much.  As noted previously, I have managed to winnow my long-term project drawers (some may call it a Shelf of Doom) to one—the Aeroclub 1/48^th scale Gloster Gamecock.  I also have embarked on a few 1/72^nd scale F-4 projects.  But what has really eaten into my time has been research and writing—I’ve been working on four articles in association with the Phantom projects, as well as trying to put something together for our club newsletter and this blog. 

                                              *     *     *     *    *     *     * 

Needless to say, my gripes are quite minor in comparison to folks who have been directly affected by this disease.  In my own extended family, my cousin’s husband died in February from what was most likely COVID-19—remember, in February, 99.9% of Americans hadn’t even heard of COVID, so there is no 100% confirmation, but the symptoms he exhibited certainly sound familiar—high fever, cough, shortness of breath, and pneumonia-like symptoms. 

Several other friends of mine have been infected, too, and are in various stages of recovery. 

Bottom line:  Wear a mask, maintain social distancing, and practice good hygiene.  These are simple steps that, according to science, works.  If we all do our part, we can put COVID out of business. 

Temporarily Retired

As I've indicated, my last day of employment came and went early in March.  I was asked to make a trip to the company's new digs to deliver some IT equipment, and I can tell you that the new place is a Taj Mahal compared to the shoebox we had been working out of for five and a half years.  And, true to the end, my boss kept trying to get me to move.  Sorry, boss.  My wife and family are situated, I'm staying put.  Thanks for asking.

I'm starting to get some things moving on the job front.  Until then, I'm going to pick up a few shifts at the local hobby shop.  I've always enjoyed my times working at hobby shops, because, well, I was working in a hobby shop!  Nobody will get rich by doing so, but I enjoy meeting the customers and helping them either find a hobby or enjoy the one they already pursue.

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After taking a week of doing next to nothing--you know, to clear my mind--you would think I could get back to doing some things that I had missed due to the work schedule.  However, that would be flawed logic, because the first weekend in April saw the 2016 AMPS International Convention roll into Sumter, SC.  How was the show?  I can only comment for myself--it may not have been the biggest, but it was the best run.  I may be a bit biased, though, since I was a member of the host Chapter.  We had 125 entrants who put 399 models on the tables.  Another 179 people paid for a General Admission walk-in.  43 vendors were spread over some 60 tables--including at least four club tables with display models on them, which pushed the total number of models in the building to close to 500.  Personally, my little M20 took an Intermediate Gold, which was nice--and it bumped me up to an Advanced Modeler.  There were a few minor glitches, but they all got worked out or are being revisited for the next hosts.  Next year's show will be in Danbury, CT, so make you plans now...

So, with AMPS over, I can rest, right?  Wrong.  Remember, this year puts both the AMPS and IPMS/USA National shows in the Midlands of South Carolina.  No rest for the weary, wicked, twisted, or other.  I'm coordinating the seminars, and I have had a great group of speakers volunteer.  I've put together a schedule which should work very well.  Now, I just have to get everyone on the same page with me--which at times can be akin to herding cats.  But all will go well in the end--I can sense it...

Being the seminar coordinator, I decided that I'd present two of my own.  One will cover the convention theme of "Every Model Tells a Story", the other was going to cover piston-powered airliners.  But at some point I was asked if anyone was doing a seminar on model building basics.  At the time, I was struggling to find material to fill out an hours' worth of propliners, so I switched tracks and started to put together a Back to Basics seminar.  In order to do better illustrate the Back to Basics seminar, that means one thing:  I needed to build a model.  I had recently purchased some SIDNA from a club member, one of which was the Hasegawa 1/72 Beaufighter Mk.21.  It is a neat little kit, and even with the advent of the new Airfix TF.X, it still is a worthy kit.  I grabbed it off of the stack, and as of about an hour ago it was basically sitting in completed sub-assemblies.  I'd like to have this one done quickly--I am also using is as my "Get your mojo back" model, so the sooner I can call it done, the sooner I can move on to other kits.

This will sound strange--between my last days at work and the start of the AMPS convention, I actually started another kit, too--an Aeroclub 1/48 scale Gloster Gamecock, which was also bought as SIDNA from a friend at a swap meet.  It has been a while since I tackled a vac-form kit, but after knocking some rust off I have found the project to be rather enjoyable.  I still have other kits to finish--most of which are at the paint shop phase--but something told me to start the Gamecock.  I don't know, maybe I started the Gamecock so the dogs in my head would stop barking, but I'm making fairly good progress and am actually trying a few new techniques that I've read about.  Now that this one is well under way, I need to finally go looking for an Aeroclub Gauntlet for my 74 Squadron collection.

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My wife and I did get a chance to take a few day trips--one of them was to see our friends at  the Augusta HobbyTown USA.  We deliberately make a note of Master's weekend and stay away, but the weekend after the golfers leave is usually pretty tranquil.  In the theme seminar I'm presenting, part of it covers a story of a model of an AV-8B.  Long story--I'll write a post about it after the convention--but the gist is that I decided to obtain the Kittyhawk Models 1/48 F-35B as a companion piece.  Give me a while, and I might actually get it built.  Kitthawk's kits carry a reputation online, but I've witnessed firsthand that they are not impossible to build.  My wife has finished both their T-45 Goshawk and the TF-9J Twogar, and they both are excellent models.  

Our other day trip was to the the big city of Blue Ridge, Georgia, home of Free Time Hobbies.  I've bought from them online a time or two, and their selection they show online called to us to go for a visit.  We left the house at about 9:30 AM and got home around 8:30PM.  It isn't really a long ride, but the drive takes you through a lot of rural areas.  The store is quite nice, and we managed to find a few things we needed.  It isn't a trip we'll take every month, or even every six months, but it was a trip we were glad we took.

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We had planned to leave the house earlier on our trip to Blue Ridge, but when my wife was summoned awake by the Mighty Tiger (who had a Tiger Food Low Level Light come on), she noticed our little cat wouldn't leave the back window, and she kept hearing a cat crying.  She assumed it was the little guy, but when she looked outside, she saw another cat on the porch.  We had seen this guy a few times before--a youngish cat, gray in color--when he would camp out on the porch.  This time, though, something wasn't right.  The cat was sitting still with his head into the corner, not moving much, and every now and then would shudder, as if he was having a seizure.  It had been a cold night, but we don't know if that factored into what was going on.  After a while, not knowing what was happening, my wife called Animal Control.  Since it was early, the Sheriff's Office responded.  The deputy kept checking on the cat every now and then, and it was evident that the little kitty wasn't doing well.  By the time the Animal Control officer arrived, the cat was more or less motionless.  It did wiggle when she tried to pick it up, so she gave it a sedative before she loaded it into a carrier and took him away.  We don't know what happened after she took the kitty away, but we're fairly positive it is playing a golden harp.

What nobody could figure out was what happened.  It seemed to be paralyzed on one side, as if it had suffered a stroke.  We don't know if it had been poisoned, we don't know if it met up with a snake and been bitten, we don't know if some cruel person or persons did something to it.  All we know is that our little guy sat inside the whole time, looking after the injured cat.  And, when our little guy would start crying, his big brother would walk over and lick him on the head.  So much for being ferocious beasts--our two feline gentlemen proved that they do love each other.

This story illustrates why both of our feline justice units live indoors--in our area, predators lurk in the woods.  It doesn't take long to become a snack for a Red-Tailed Hawk, an eagle, or a fox (or even a stray feral dog or another cat),  or meet up with a rattlesnake.  No, they do just fine in the house--the little one gets into enough mischief inside, I can scarcely imagine what he'd do in the great out of doors.

That's all there is for now.  Thanks for reading--I'll post some Gamecock photos, and other photos, as things move along the line towards completion.  Really.  I will...

Be good to one another, and, as always, I bid you Peace.

 

1984

Greetings!

Now, before you get all excited and start running about, I'm not referring to George Orwell's vision.  Rather, I'm looking back 30 years and remembering some of the things that made 1984 a sort of comeback year for me...

For starters, I found myself unemployed and not in school for the first time in my life on New Year's Day in 1984.  I had taken my leave from the Harvard of the Sky--engineering physics and I didn't get along, especially when physics had backup on the beat-down in the form of Calculus 3.  Between those two courses, I had a dismal GPA for the Fall 1983 semester and decided that engineering as a career for me wasn't in the cards.  I went down to the AFROTC Detachment (I had an AFROTC Scholarship at the time) and spoke a bit with my advisor.  He and I talked for about an hour, and both came to the conclusion that all the summer terms in the world weren't going to suddenly make me a mathematical genius.  My math skills were pretty good, but not good enough.  So, I didn't register for spring semester and came home.

Funny how things can happen--I went looking for a job on 2 January 1984 and was hired almost immediately as a parts driver for a local HVAC parts house.  After a week or so of that, one of their systems engineers found out that I wasn't just doing this because I didn't know any better, and I would sometimes be called in to watch how home and industrial HVAC systems are engineered--so many square feet of space called for so many tons of capacity, so many BTUs were required to heat X amount of space, etc.  It was all pretty neat stuff, and I appreciated all they were doing for me.  Between parts runs, I learned quite a bit--and was tempted to pursue a career in that.  But aviation, once it wiggles down into your blood, tends to have a strong pull...

I worked there all summer.  One day I got a phone call from one of my advisors at Embry-Riddle, wanting to know what I was doing and what my plans were.  At the time, I was still trying to just chill out a bit and leave the stress and, well, disappointment of engineering behind me (and earn some coin, but that should be obvious).  I let them know what I was up to, and that I had several things banging around in my head, and that I'd let them know when the time came.  That time came in June--I took a Friday off work and drove back to Daytona Beach.  I met with some folks, and found out how easy it would be for me to come back--I never formally withdrew from the school, so I was still carried on their rolls.  I first visited my AFROTC friends.  We spent a few hours speaking with some of the other Department Chairmen, and after speaking with the man heading up the Avionics program, my mind was made up.  I would return in August.

With my future now decided, I went back to work.  I don't say this to be self-congratulatory, but I was the hardest working parts driver/stock man/all around helper that location had.  I know this because the higher-ups told me so.  They were especially let down when I gave them my notice, but when I told them that my two choices were to learn--unofficially--from them, or go back to school and learn aviation electronics, I think it got them to understand.  I was told that if I needed summer work, they would be there.  So, I ended my employment with them in mid-August.

Remember that 1984 was an Olympic Games year, too--back when Winter and Summer games were held in the same year, no less.  The Winter games were held in Sarajevo, Yugoslavia.  I paid little attention to them, because work and the time difference made keeping track of the events a bit difficult.  What saddens me know is to see what has become of the venues built for the Games--most of them are crumbling, the result of the unrest, fighting, and other issues between the ethnic factions that finally led to the break-up of Yugoslavia into its constituent Republics.  Sad...

The Summer games, on the other hand, were different--they were held in Los Angeles in 1984.  The overshadowing news was that the Soviet Union, acting in response to the West's boycott of the 1908 Games, had decided to sit 1984 out.  They, along with the majority of Eastern Bloc countries, sat at home while the Games went on.  The reason I remember it so well was than coverage of most events came on right as I was getting back to the house after work, so I could pay attention to all of them.  It was the last Olympic Summer games that I really paid close attention to.  Since then, various reasons have kept me from watching...

On the modeling front, I actually started to keep a log of kits I completed.  The first for 1984 was the ESCI 1/48 scale Fieseler Storch.  It was an easy build until I got to the part about sticking the wings to the greenhouse.  I used 5-minute epoxy, and got a fairly decent result--I amazed myself that I didn't wind up with epoxy all over everything! 

I next turned my attention to a Tamiya 1/48 Brewster Buffalo.  It was probably the quickest "serious" model I had built to that point--everything just clicked together.  I was tempted by the early Navy scheme, but I settled on the Dutch scheme, because my metal finish techniques were sorely lacking and I didn't want to ruin the model.  My impressions of Tamiya airplane kits would be reinforced soon...

Next on the hit parade was the Nichimo 1/48 scale Ki-43 Oscar.  If you read opinions on this kit, they're all almost universally positive.  And for good reason--the kit packs a lot of detail into a small airplane, the fit is superlative, and this all in a kit dating from the late 1970's.  I tried some weathering techniques on this one--I used a silver Tamiya paint marker to prime seams back then, and I would paint the seams and rub the excess paint off with a paper towel.  I reconed that if I added blotches of silver here and there, I could "chip" the Polly S paints I was using for the camouflage.  It worked out fairly well, I think, and I kept trying to expand my horizons from that model on to the next, and the next...

This was also the summer when I attempted to build Monogram's 1/48 scale F-84F.  For a reason or reasons lost to history, I cannot recall why I never finished the model.  All I have from that model is the dolly and a few bits and pieces.  After that, I wound up building Monogram's 1/48 scale F-100D in Arkansas ANG colors.  I did that because, as I said before, my metal finishes at the time looked like dog poop...

Last for the summer, I decided to refinish a Monogram 1/48 scale B-17G that I had built in the late 1970's, maybe 1979.  I had airbrushed it, but it was one of my first airbrushed models and looked the part.  There were visible seams and some other issues with the model, so I took it down from the shelf and started working on the bad areas.  Within a week, it was ready for paint again.  I had used a Microscale sheet to finish the F-100 and was suitably impressed--first time using them, you know.  So, I went in search of a sheet for the B-17.  I found one I liked (unit and aircraft are again lost to history--I didn't log how they were finished, just that I finished them) and set to work.  I used a combination of Polly S and Tamiya acrylics for the finish, and this one was the best, to that point, airbrushed finish I had ever laid down.  The model went back on the shelf, an old girl in a new dress.

(That Tamiya Buffalo would also get a re-work in the early 1990's--which is how it still resides, hidden away in a box upstairs...)

I returned to good old Humpty Diddle in August.  I had to register for classes.  I had remembered to change my major and catalog at the Registrar's office when I was there in June, so half my battle had been won.  Then I get to the registration lines.  I think it is a universal college policy that beginning of the semester registration is meant to be as huge a pain in the ass as possible to all involved.  See, during my engineering days, I had to re-take a few courses.  As far as the Aeronautical Studies/Aeronautics courses were concerned, I was through with all of my math classes by virture of my Calculus I and Calculus II courses.  During those engineering semesters, I had managed to complete all but maybe one or two Humanities/History courses, too.  I was only looking to register for the required Physics and first semester Aero Studies courses.  I couldn't get into any of the Electronics courses since all the sections were filled, so I settled for what I could get.  After I got through that, I had to go play housing lottery.  After about two hours of back-and-forth, I managed to get into Residence Hall 2, aka Dorm 2, aka "The Embry-Riddle Holiday Inn".  I had lived here through my engineering days, so I know what to expect.  I met the roommates and suitemates (two rooms to a suite, three people to a room), all of whom were Aero Science guys (they were all working towards pilot certificates)--except one.  He was in engineering.  He was a quiet kid, and engineering wasn't any kinder to him than it was me.  I kinda felt sorry for the kid...after all, I'm now the older, wiser me...

Classes were literally a breeze.  By the end of that semester, I would have all my prerequisite courses behind me and the next three and a half years would be solid electronics and avionics courses, along with the Aero Studies courses.  See, there was no single avionics major, you took a major and added avionics.  You could take an Aviation Maintenance major and avionics (you wound up with an Airfram and Powerplant certificate and the avionics degree) or Aeronautical Studies with avionics, which is how I went.  Basically, you took all the ground school courses for flight, but no flight courses.  So, I learned basic aerial navigation and meteorology to go along with my electron theory.  Over the years, the school changed how they treated avionics until finally phasing it out a few years ago in favor of an Electronic Engineering degree program...

More modeling?  You bet--I had spare time, so I decided to build a Tamiya 1/48 A6M2.  This was another fall together kit, it was done in a week.  Yep, a week.  Needing something else to occupy my time, and figuring that the ESCI Storch was a cool kit, so I decided to build ESCI's 1/48 scale Hs-123.  Now that one was a challenge--first serious biplane, first masked camouflage scheme with Polly S, and the kit was rife with minor warpage--typical of ESCI's kits of that era.  Well, I managed to beat it into submission, and painted it up as a Spanish Civil War machine.  I may still have it in a box here somewhere, too, and I was sure to pick up the AMTech "enhanced" reissue of the kit a few years ago.  After all, who else is likely to do an Hs-123 in 1/48 scale?

The best part of the year?  Going back to school.  I never had any intention of *not* going back to school--my father wouldn't abide it.  He was always pushing for education-I guess it stems from the fact that he had a GED when he started working, and worked hard in correspondence classes to earn a degree.  Dad was a self made man, and he did so through hard work and trying to better himself.  I was thinking about these "good old days", and once again realized what my parents did to make sure my brother and I were ready to face the cold, cruel world--the sacrifices they made to put us both through post-secondary education, the hard work they put in to keep a roof over our heads, food on the table, and lights on in the house.  So, by going back to school--even though I wasn't overtly pushed--I was doing as they wanted. 

On reflection, maybe I should have worked for a year after high school, then gone to college.  Maybe I should have examined engineering closer and realized that it was a bit beyond my abilities.  You can reach for the brass ring, and if you grab it on the first try, great.  I seem to reach for the ring, get a light grip on it, and then lose that slight grasp.  Rather than giving up, I'll take a breather and try again.  I usually grab that sucker for all I'm worth on the second go around, and once I have it in my grasp I never let go--I seem to cherish it more when I do that.  It has worked for me my entire life...

Oh, yeah.  The Apple Macintosh also goes on sale in 1984, Constatin Chernenko succeeds Yuri Andropov as General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, Pierre Trudeau steps down as the Canadian Prime Minister, and Marvin Gaye's father shoots and kills the singer. 

Musically, Van Halen released their "1984" album, giving us "Panama", "Hot For Teacher", "I'll Wait", and "Jump".  Duran Duran were touring, suppoting "Seven and the Ragged Tiger", which gave us "The Reflex", "Union of the Snake", and "New Moon on Monday".  Meanwhile, Prince and the Revolution topped the Billboard Top 100 with "When Doves Cry".  What was #100?  "Yah Mo Be There", by James Ingram and Michael McDonald...

(I can't poke too much fun--my beloved Jethro Tull released "Under Wraps".  Not one of their best albums ever.  By far.  Even Tull's then-bassist Dave Pegg said the songs cut from 1983's "Broadsword and the Beast" would have made a better album.  Trivia time--it was the only Tull album with no live drummer--drum machines were used instead.  Doane Perry would be hired shortly after this album and was their full-time drummer until 2011.  He still occasionally tours with them.)

The big news items in the United States for 1984, though, were generated by President Ronald Reagan.  In August, during a sound check for a radio broadcast, he says "My fellow Americans, I'm pleased to tell you today that I've signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever.  We begin bombing in five minutes".  He alos is re-elected (with George H. W. Bush as his Vice President) in a landslide victory in November, beating Democrats Walter Mondale and Geraldine Ferraro, carrying 49 states and 59% of the popular vote.

 Oh, and as an aside:  When you get an ROTC scholarship, you are basically sworn in as enlisted personnel.  Because I vacated my AFROTC scholarship, a Review Board convened.  It was decided that I wasn't vacating the scholarship for any reason other than it would be a waste of money to have me keep banging my head against a wall as an egineering student.  For my troubles, I received a package from the United States Air Force sometime in April.  Now, some fellow scholarship recipients were receiving orders to attend basic training at Lackland AFB, Texas.  I was slightly concerend until I opened the envelope.  I was granted an Honorable Discharge from the United States Air Force.  As an Airman Basic.  No orders.  One of my roommates at the time wasn't as lucky--his orders appeared a week after he got home in December, 1983.  He showed the Air Force, though--he went down and joined the Army before the Air Force caught up with him.  Many who knew this guy swore he joined the army only so he could get a good, up close look at an M1 Abrams tank so he could build a superdetailed model of one...

I hope this finds all of you in good health.  Thanks for reading, and be good to one another.  I bid you Peace.

 

 

And then, things got hectic...

Yeah, yeah, I know...

See, its like this:  I finally had enough time to collect my meager thoughts.  The new car was running nicely (and still is), work was humming along, the family stuff was on an even keel...

I even got to take a vacation.  What happened after that?  See the title to this post...

We're a small shop at work--we do with five or six technicians what other shops won't touch unless they have at least ten people available to work the job.  We schedule things pretty tight, too--remember what I've said in the past about the empty hangar not making us any money?  With things packed nose to tail, everything has to pretty much run like a Rolex (by the way, did you see the Rolex 24?  More later...) or the whole schedule turns into a logjam.  Yep.  You guessed it.  Unforeseen problems with parts, unexpected findings, and some aircraft sales issues clogged the pipeline a bit.  As a result, we're trying to unburden ourselves from said pile of airplanes.  We have two in the hangar, two on the ramp, and two stashed in various hangars around the airport to keep them out of any inclement weather that might move in.  And, get this--we have two more on the way early next week.  So it kinda goes without saying that we're working overtime.  Lots of overtime.  As in seven day a week overtime.  The money's good, yes, but you have to be alive to enjoy it.  Fortunately, we're on schedule to deliver one by the close of business Monday, and another a day or so after that.  But we're still up to our eyeballs in aviation fun...

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To add to the array of spinning plates, my mother is again in poor health.  She was improving when we saw her in December, then she suffered a pretty significant setback, one which the family is dealing with.  Lots of issues there, not least of which is I'm going to have to carve away some time to visit.  Or clone myself.  Or both.

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All isn't gloom and doom, though.  I have actually tried to get back to the workbench and get some stuff done.  I broke my vow of not starting anything new until the backlog was done and started on the new Airfix 1/72 scale Folland Gnat T.1.  It has been a relatively quick build, and I hope to be able to get some color onto the model shortly.  There were a few minor issues.  The fit of the wing to the fuselage can be tricky--be careful once you get everything ready for the glue.  If you don't get a good, tight fit where the wings meet the inlets, work on it before you get out the glue brush--if you don't, you'll wind up with a slight gap that could set your wing askew.  I'm speaking from experience, here.  Also, watch the part numbers when you build the slipper tanks--I didn't and got the left top on the right bottom and vice-versa.  By the time I noticed, the tanks were permanently fused.  I had to trim and shim to get them to fit.  I hope that those of you reading this take heed and learn from my ignorance.

I'm gonna build this one up using the kit decals.  I figured it would be a good slump-buster, and I was right--were it not for all the overtime and other things, I'd have it finished by now.

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Other things, you ask?  Well, in addition to the family stuff, the court date for the guy who caused the accident in November came up a few weeks ago.  I think I told you all at some point that the man is 82-years old.  Well, when I saw him enter the courtroom, it reinforced what I had been thinking--he's indeed 82, has two hearing aids, two canes, and glasses with lenses thicker than any I've seen on a pair of glasses.  How this man--a fine man, I'm sure--can hold a driver's license evades me.

Anyway, he wanted to speak with the judge.  The way traffic court works in South Carolina starts with your ticket.  If you pay it and take the points, your case is removed from the docket.  You also have the option of holding the court date and speaking with the law enforcement officer who cited you.  At that point, the two parties usually work out what amounts to a plea agreement with reduced fine, you pay the fine and take the reduced points, the case gets closed, and all is right with the world.  If you either don't want  to speak with the LEO or don't like what he or she is telling you, you appear before the judge.  This session was to start at 10AM.  The trooper was in a jury trial and was not going to be able to appear until just before the judge was ready to take the bench.  By the time the trooper showed, there were about five minutes left before the judge entered the court.  An interesting conversation took place:

"I want to talk to the judge.  I want my ticket throwed out."

"Sir, I doubt the judge will do that, especially since there are several witnesses to the case present in the courtroom today."

"I wasn't speedin'.  There was other cars passin' me like I was on flypaper."

"Sir, you weren't cited for speeding.  You were cited for driving too fast for conditions."

"But them folks wuz speeding!"

"Sir, I run traffic stops there all the time.  I understand what you're saying, but I didn't cite you for speeding.  We weren't running a speed stop that day, and while they may have been exceeding the speed limit, that's not what you got the ticket for.  Traffic was stopped, and by your actions, you damaged seven vehicles."

This went on for a while.  Then, he changes the subject:

"My van was totaled!  They gots to get one of them lit signs warning about congestion or sumpin' on the road.  I've been driving for seventy two years, and ain't never had anythin' like this..."

"Sir, I understand you vehicle was totaled--so were three others.  As for the signs, the judge here can't help you.  All he will want to hear from you is guilty or not guilty of the charge of driving too fast for conditions."

He pressed that issue for several minutes.  Then, another quick sidestep:

"My brakes musta failed or my foot musta slipped."

"Sir, we tested your van's brakes--even with all the damage, the system was intact and you had a firm pedal.  But that's also something the judge isn't interested in..."

The trooper had to explain this to the man at least three times before he switched tracks again:

"The hospital cut me loose and I wuz still hurtin'!"

"Sir, You'll need to take that up with the hospital.  This judge won't rule on that.  All he wants to hear is guilty or not guilty to the charge."

Then the guy's wife starts chiming in:

"Can't you reduce the fine?"

Ma'am, the fine is $81.88 and two points, the lowest traffic fine we are allowed to levy on this charge.  The judge will not reduce the fine lower than that."

"You really think not?  My husband's a Veteran and everthin'."

"Ma'am, even if the judge thought your husband was the finest man he'd ever met, he can't, by law, reduce the fine.  He could be a Saint, and the law still applies."

Finally, the couple decide that maybe it is best to pay their fine, take the points, and move on.  Much to my delight and to the delight of the other witness.  Of course, by the time they decided this, the judge entered the courtroom.  We did the polite thing and sat until the trooper and judge dismissed us.

There's several hours of my life I'm never gonna see again.  But if he made his appearance with no witnesses present, the case would have likely been dismissed.  So, I did my good deed for the day, and got a few hours away from work on top of it all.  Sometimes life is like that...

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During one of the lulls in the action, my wife and I paid a visit to one of the smaller hobby shops in the area, one that we hadn't been to in quite a while.  When I say small, I mean it in size, mainly--what the shop lacks in size is usually offset by some of the stuff held within it's walls.  We poked through the stacks, and I noted that the owner must have bought parts of a collection.  One man's trash (or SIDNA) is another man's treasure (or future SIDNA, depending on how the stars align):  I snagged a Fujimi 1/72 scale HSS-2B Sea King in JASDF markings for $12 and a Hasegawa 1/72 scale F-111F for about $20 and some change.  Not bad, considering Hasegawa is pricing the kits of the Pig that they do re-release at nearly double that.  I also noticed some HO scale/gauge Proto2000 Atlantic Coast and Florida East Coast locomotives priced nicely--I didn't get them yet, but will soon do so.  It pays to shop local, doesn't it?

The Fujimi Sea King is a nice kit that can be difficult to find.  It had most of the detail differences included (sponsons, short and long horizontal stabilizer, ice shield) in the box.  I'd like to have some fun and maybe build this one as one of the CH-3B's that the U. S. Air Force used to resupply the Texas Tower radar sites or to recover drones.  Eventually, I will build a Navy version or three, but the Air Force titles on an engine gray and orange helo intrigue me...

As for the -111, I may again break my vow in order to do something I've meant to do for years.  Stay tuned.

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On our trip to Florida, we stopped by the usual haunts and came up with a few hits.  I bought the wife a copy of the new Kinetic T-45 Goshawk.  It is a nice kit--she has already finished the model, and it looks quite nice.  I also managed to snag a Revell Germany issue of the 1/72 scale MPM A-20G kit.  Just as nice at half the price.  Really.

She found one of the new Academy 1/48 scale F-4B Phantom II kits, which she promptly wrapped and gave to me on Christmas.  Personally, I think it is a superb kit regardless of the hubbub on the 'net.  Mine is destined to wear the Top Hat of VF-14...

She also was directed towards a Zvesda 747-8 kit that I had spied for an oh-so-nice price.  So she's got that going for her...

Before we left on the trip, she had pre-ordered a couple of the new Meng 1/72 scale F-102A kits.  All I can say is that if you are a Century Series fan, get one.  Or two.  Or a half-dozen.  Yes, they are that nice...

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The 51st running of the Rolex 24 at Daytona is history.  Scott Pruett won for the fifth time, tying Hurley Haywood in the most wins in "Daytona's twice 'round the clock classic" department.  Let's say that I'm not Scott's biggest fan, but I do appreciate the achievement.  Winning once is a lifetime goal of so many people, so to win it five times is truly remarkable.  And I'm glad that Charlie Kimball was on the team for this race--Charlie races in the IndyCar series even though he has Type 1 diabetes--he carries a Novo Nordic FlexPen in the car with him, and he's done quite well for himself on the track.  He's also a nice guy, and I'm happy that he now can say he was on a winning team in Daytona.  Wayne Taylor Racing and their new partner Velocity Worldwide was on the second step of the podium this year.  The BMW's were the class of the field, so Wayne's Corvette DP just didn't have the muscle to keep pace, even with Max Angelelli, Ryan Hunter-Reay, and Wayne's son Jordan sharing the duty.  Last year's winner, Michael Shank Racing's #60 car, finished third but was later fined and stripped of all the winnings and most of the points because of a rules infraction.  Part of the fines go to Camp Boggy Creek...

In the GT ranks, Audi and Ferrari came to play, and play they did.  Audi Sport/AJR took first, AudiSport/APR took second, and AIM Autosport/FXDD took theird in their Ferrari 458.  And, the new GX class had mixed results--the three top finishers were all Porsche Caymans.  Three Mazda6 GX entries met with misfortune early on, all of them dropping out due to engine and mechanical problems after 50 laps.

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So there you are.  We covered a lot of ground this time--some work woes, some family woes, some interesting disorder in the court, some plastic tales, and some racing.  I hope that holds you for a while. 

And I hope to be back sooner.  Can't make any promises, but I'll do my best to fill your head with useless trivia, questionable knowledge, and goofy tales from back in the day.

Until then, thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, and I bid you Peace.

I got that travelin' jones once again...

As soon as I thought I could relax, another wave hit us at work.  I was getting used to having weekends off again, and *wham!*, another airplane comes in with a long work scope and short turn around time.  That explains why I've not had time to update this blog--we've worked straight through since 4 December, and I'm talking 12-15 hour days.  We slowed down this week, and again, there appears--as if my magic--yet another airplane in need of attention, specialized attention that only I am qualified to render, in this case.  Good thing, then, that I was able to get it done as quickly as possible, since I have a long-awaited vacation coming up...

By the time you read this, we'll be on our way to visit the old stomping grounds.  We'll be back before Christmas, when I hope to have plenty to share--and the time in which I might just do so.  Until then, thanks for reading.  As always, be good to one another.  I bid you Peace.

Feline update

This week saw Smokey visit the vet for his second round of shots, some tests, and his de-milling.  All went well--except that one of Smokey's Family Jewels hasn't descended, so he's still half-armed.  The vet said he'd look at things in a month and decide what to do.  All other tests came back negative--no FIV, no Feline Leukemia (FeLeuk).  He also swabbed a sample from his right eye to have cultured, so we'll see what happens there.  Meanwhile, we have a prescription to treat whatever's irritating the eye.

Since all indicators pointed to Smokey being a healthy cat, my wife decided to let Smokey out of the Master suite and into the rest of the house.  I wasn't home, but I understand things were a bit tentative.  Smokey, being a young cat, wants to play.  Junior, who has been King of the House for eight years, isn't thrilled with the new addition.  There have been a few moments between the two, but for the most part, they've done well.

_{Smokey, the little ginger-colored cat on the scratching post, gets the eye from Junior...}

_{Smokey returns the favor.}

_{Smokey, all sacked out on the scratching post.  The destruction was more than likely Junior's handiwork--and you can see just how well Smokey heeds warnings like that...}

There have been a few moments--my wife had to use the spray bottle on Smokey earlier today--he's treating everything as his--including Junior's sandboxes and food bowls.  Now, just look at Junior--the last thing he needs is another food bowl, yet he's eyeballing Smokey's.  I guess Junior feels that what's good for one is good for all.  We're trying to keep Junior from Smokey's food bowls and Smokey from Junior's kitter boxes.  It seems to have calmed Junior down a bit.

With all the territorial posturing, no fur has flown.  Junior's hissed and growled, Smokey's howled a bit, but they haven't fought.  Let's hope it stays that way...

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I'll be judging tomorrow at the AMPS/Central South Carolina Chapter's Inaugural Contest.  I'll post pictures as I'm able.  We're hoping we get a decent showing--we're co-hosting the show with the Midlands Chapter of the South Carolina Modeler's Association.  I'm looking forward to a fun day.

The busy week has taken its toll on my sleep, so that's all I have for you right now.  Thanks for reading.  Be good to one another, and I bid you Peace.

A Catalina Story

Any fan of World War Two warbirds knows the Consolidated PBY Catalina/Canso--the ungainly-looking, high wing flying boat/amphibian patrol aircraft.  Well, I made the acquaintance of a few of these aircraft in my career, the first of which was a Boeing-Canada built PBY-5A Canso that the company I worked for acquired back in 1989 or 1990.  She wasn't much to look at--after the war, she had been modified to what was known as 28-5ACF and was to have been used as a freight hauler or firebomber.  During that change, she had her waist gun blisters replaced with cargo doors, and she had the later "clipper" nose fitted that eliminated the gun turret and window--these modifications removed a lot of the character that made a PBY a PBY.  But I got to do a little avionics work on her, and other than reminding yourself that there are lots of places to bang your shins or whack your head in this old girl (and there are two kinds of people who work around flying boats--those that have knocked their head or shins on something, and those who will!), it was more or less a joy.  Yes, there was oil all around, too--any radial-engined airplane will have a film of oil covering most of the airplane after too long, and this PBY was no exception.

Doing some research, it seems that my first PBY was a bit of a celebrity.  She was born as Construction Number 22022 and went to the Royal Canadian Air Force as RCAF9793 sometime in 1943.  After the war, she kicked around a bit--she carried, at one time or another, the following registrations: YV-P-APE, OB-LDM-349, HK-996X, HP-289, HR-236, N6108, and TG-BIV.  I knew her as November Five Four Zero Four Juliet.

One of her claims-to-fame?  She was used by Southern Air Transport for a while, and while under their employ she served as a communications relay aircraft during the ill-fated Bay of Pigs invasion.  To top that, she was also supposedly used in the Pearl Harbor attack movie "Tora Tora Tora!".  To put the cherry on top of her career, she was used for a time by oceanographer Jacques Cousteau...

(Do a Google search on "N5404J" and you will get dozens of hits.  Really.  I could post the information here, but I've been working one of those weeks of half-days--seven days, twelve hour shifts.  I'm feeling a bit lazy this Sunday...)

Zero-Four Juliet  stayed with us for a year or so.  I'm not sure what we did to the airplane up until 1990, but there came a time where the maintenance guys went to work doing some sheet metal work.  They were adding seat rails and a passenger floor to the airplane.  They were also re-routing all of the overhead fluid lines--we were told that she was to be ferried to New Zealand, where she would haul passengers, and you can't have volatile liquids (read: 100 Low Lead Aviation Gasoline, aka 100LL AVGAS).  As it turned out, she was actually going to be brought to New Zealand to be used as a flying museum.  Unfortunately, it would not come to pass--at least, not for Zero Four Juliet.  The airplane left our facility sometime in late 1993.  I heard little about her until a friend told me that she crashed in January 1994 while en route from Hilo, HI to Papeete in French Polynesia.  She sank in the Pacific.  Fortunately, the occupants were rescued.

A post from The Warbird Information Exchange, which came from The Catalina Group of New Zealand's website:

                                                    The History of “NJ”, Catalina N5404J

N5404J, serial number 22022, was built by Boeing of Canada and had the RCAF Serial 9793. It was originally a Canso A (PBY-5A) but at the war's end was modified in Costa Rica to 28-5ACF status. Its blister windows and nose turret were removed, the former replaced with flush hatches; the latter with a "clipper" nose. Registrations have included: YV-P-APE, OB-LDM-349, HK-996X, HP-289, HR-236, N6108, TG-BIV, N5404J.

It took part in the ill-fated "Bay of Pigs" operation in Cuba during which, while circling the invasion area and operating with the code name "Swan Island", its mission was to act as a communications relay aircraft. It was also used in making of the film Tora, Tora, Tora, flying in pre-war US Navy colours both as 24-P-4 and 24-P9 representing PBYs from VP-24 based on Ford Island, Pearl Harbour. It was hired at one time by renown marine biologist Jacques Cousteau on one of his ventures (Jacques Cousteau’s son, Philippe was killed in PBY-6A Catalina N101CS –"Flying Calypso" in a water landing accident).           

N5404J's last registered owner was The Catalina Company (NZ) Ltd under which the registration ZK-PBY was reserved but never taken up as the aircraft forced landed and sank in mid-Pacific early on January 14, 1994 during a ferry flight to New Zealand. For the whole fascinating story order a copy of Catalina Dreaming from this site today!

My second encounter with a Catalina happened about the same time--it was the airplane now known as N4NC, and maybe I'll tell you about it (and other hangar stories) some time...for as Zero Four Juliet was a workhorse, Four November Charlie was a flying yacht.

There was yet another Catalina I knew, too--N7179Y, a PBY-6A--and (as of September of 2009) she resides in the restoration facility of the Minnesota Wing of the Commemorative Air Force.  She was flipped on her back during a storm some 12 years ago.  It is a shame, too--Seven Niner Yankee lived through Hurricane Andrew in 1991 with nary a scratch.  It appears as if they will combine the best parts from Seven Niner Yankee and another PBY-6A.  I haven't been able to dig up anything more current...

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As I hinted at above, work has been more than hectic these past three weeks.  I haven't had much time to do anything, so forgive me on the lack of updates lately.

Thanks for reading, and, as always, I bid you Peace.