While testing on the aircraft took place throughout the spring of 1924, the U.S. Army Air Corps took official delivery of the last of the five units of the Douglas World Cruiser on March 11.
Testing on the prototype took place at McCook Field, in Dayton, Ohio, with trials on the floats in Hampton, Virginia, and again in San Diego, California. The DWC featured the 400-horsepower Liberty V-12 engine—a proven mount that the Air Corps already knew well from its use in a variety of airplane during the Great War—and it could cruise at 100 mph. According to the Smithsonian National Air & Space Museum, 20,748 of the Liberty engines were built by auto manufacturers, including Ford, Packard, Buick, Lincoln, and Marmon for aviation use.
The Liberty A model V-12 engine, in the collection of the National Air & Space Museum. [Credit: Smithsonian National Air & Space Museum]
One of my most cherished books is an original edition of “Sky Master: The Story of Donald Douglas,” signed by Douglas himself. From those pages, I quote the specifications of the DWCs, from a DAC report.
“The fuselage is made in three detachable sections and is constructed of steel tubing. Wings are of the standard wood box beam and built-in rib construction. The wings may be folded back for convenience in storage. The water-type landing gear consists of twin pontoons of built-up wood construction, the top covering being of three-ply veneer, and the bottom planking being two plies of mahogany.
“The specifications of the World Cruiser are as follows: Weight, empty, as a seaplane, 5,500 pounds; disposable load, 2,615 pounds; gross weight, 8,000 pounds; as a landplane, weight, empty, 4,300 pounds; disposable load, 2,615 pounds; gross weight, 6,915. Gasoline capacity, 450 gallons [up from 155 gallons in the DT-2], or enough for eighteen hours of non-stop flight. Wing span, both upper and lower, 50 feet; height 13 feet seven inches; length, 35 feet six inches…”
The race to circle the globe has its roots in the first flight made by the Wright brothers at Kitty Hawk—though it took nearly 20 years for the technology of aviation to advance to the point where such a concept became feasible.
Donald Douglas, in fact, made his first stab at the design that would inform the successful round-the-world model back in 1915, in collaboration with Boston millionaire Porter Hartwell Adams. A couple of years later, Douglas would develop another variation, the Model S seaplane, for the Glenn Martin Company.
In 1920, under the first iteration of the company that would become DAC, the Davis-Douglas Aircraft Company, Douglas’ team of engineers built the Cloudster. The Army Air Corps took a shine to the land-based sportplane its initial prospectus to Douglas, now on his own, in 1923—but he already had a better answer: the DT series.
The Douglas DT-2 on land gear served as a torpedo bomber for the U.S. Navy, and it could also fly on floats. [Credit: Naval History and Heritage Command]
Having sold several to the Navy, Douglas felt the DT-2 was a mature product ready for a new expression. He submitted the design with a handful of proposals for round-the-world requirements. The brass back in D.C. loved the idea, and dropped other manufacturers from the competition, which had included the Fokker T-2.
On Wednesday, March 6, Joby Aviation hosted a reception celebrating Women in Aviation in honor of the official #InternationalWomensDay on March 8. It gathered a handful of significant women in leadership to speak, including Bonny Simi, president of operations for Joby, Joanna Geraghty, CEO of JetBlue and Senators Duckworth and Cantwell. From their inspiring words—and boards crafted from the FAA’s Women in Aviation Advisory Board report out last year—I walked away with the following takes:
1. We need women to make up a larger percentage of the pool of potential aviation careerists so that we can swell the numbers in that group—and thereby draw the best stars from a larger pool. If we only attract half the population with our promise, we may wait longer for the geniuses we need to deliver on that promise.
2. Women leaders serve as role models to those entering the industry, as well as those rising through the ranks. At every stage in my career, through all its twists and turns, I’ve had women and men who have guided me—but those women in CEO or business ownership positions have resonated with me on a viseral level. In my role at Flying, I felt this keenly, calling on a wide range of mentors who motivated and supported me.
3. Thanks to Insta and its influencers, women pilots are more visible, and reach out to inspire young people who may not have known what was possible back in the 80s, 90s, and 2000s, as Sen. Duckworth noted from her own entry into the service. And though the percentages entering airline classes have ticked up—at some airlines more than others—the stubborn truth is that we haven’t moved the needle enough to even match the percentages of women in other STEM fields—20 vs 26 percent. Work rules that benefit all parents will help more—and as Bonny pointed out, short-range eVTOLs naturally suit any pilot who prefers to—or needs to—spend each night at home.
4. And Sen. Cantrell’s observation that she noticed a higher percentage of women in the composites area at the Technology Center at the University of Washington? While she compared the mix of chemistry and physics in elaborating new processes to baking, I think that the complex problem solving within a quieter environment would hold appeal to those more in tune with the laminations of a pastry chef as opposed to the brute force often involved in bending and shaping metal—male or female. As the science evolves, so will the workforce to craft it. As we highlight the women succeeding every day in these fields, we expand the appeal of our industry to everyone, lifting us up—together.
The biggest one yet? Perhaps not—but guaranteed there’s never been a Heli-Expo as widely ranging. It’s part of the reason the 70-year-plus organization went through a serious rebranding, to Vertical Aviation International, to encompass all types of vertical lift. Now that VTOLs (electric and otherwise) claw towards certification, VAI feels like a necessary pivot for an association that used to wear “helicopter” in its title and DNA.
My other key takeaways?
This is a big-money show. It now approaches NBAA’s annual BACE in size and spend. Record crowds hovered into the last Heli-Expo (the 35th, before its rebranding to Verticon next year in 2025), bringing the total to 15,000. Last year’s BACE in Vegas hosted 20,000. For folks focused on fixed-wing lift, the numbers may surprise you—but they make sense to anyone watching this space take off.
Women now take on more visible roles, since Karen Gebhart’s leadership a few years back. Now we have the dynamite Nicole Battjes serving as chairman of VAI’s board of directors this year. We caught up at lunch on day two, and her company, Rainbow Helicopters, plans significant growth in the years to come—even as the team garnered well deserved recognition for its efforts following the Lahaina fires.
State of the art lift still centers on traditional rotorcraft designs, like the upcoming Bell 525, and the Leonardo AW09, both coming into TC later this year, perhaps. Fly-by-wire and envelope protection rule the immediate future, as these protocols enter maturity ahead of their incorporation into eVTOLs.
Powerplants evolve too—witnessed by Safran, Airbus, GE, and Pratt & Whitney with carbon-based thrust as well as each OEM’s forays into electric, hybrid, and hydrogen power. Watch this space for the weekly reports coming out as each model enters or continues flight test on various platforms—on rotor, powered lift, and fixed-wing aircraft.
The annual report out livestreamed by the General Aviation Manufacturers Association Wednesday delivered good news mixed with ongoing challenges to the industry.
My key takeaways?
The GA industry delivered more than 4,000 units across the piston, turboprop and jet segments last year—more than we have in a decade. That’s exciting and shows continuing strength in the face of supply chain, inflation, and workforce pressures.
The MOSAIC comment period is open again—and we need to weigh in strongly against the proposed shift to Part 36 noise compliance, which would add spurious testing to already extensive certification programs.
We need to push for a commensurate book & claim system in Europe—especially as SAF availability moves to commercial airports and out of reach of BizAv where it can be used to foment innovation.
As we move towards the publication of the SFAR governing advanced air mobility lift, as well as facilitating bilateral agreements we must keep building guidance that is clear and actionable for the front line FAA, EASA, ANAC, and Transport Canada folks to implement.
More on unleaded fuel, electric and hybrid progress, and fallout from Boeing to come.
When I traced the history of Donald Douglas in researching “Honest Vision: The Donald Douglas Story,” one intriguing event in his life took place during a trip he made with his family to England, Scotland, and around Europe in May 1935. The impetus for the trip? An invitation to deliver the Royal Aeronautical Society’s Wilbur Wright Memorial Lecture in London.
To track down the details of that event, I contacted the librarian for the Royal Aeronautical Society in Farnborough, England. Brian Riddle paid careful attention to my request, and I was able to go a step further and visit their archives on a research trip to the UK in 2014. Excerpts from the lecture, and its publication in the Journal of the Royal Aeronautical Society in November 1935, warranted inclusion in the book–and with the permission of the Society, of course.
Mr. Riddle and I have stayed in touch on a couple of other research questions–and he also asked, after the book’s publication, if we would mind sending a copy for review. Not only is that review forthcoming in the new RAeS magazine, Aerospace, but “Honest Vision” has now joined the stacks within the library itself.
Honestly, I could not think of a more fitting place for this labor of love to reside. Thank you to the Royal Aeronautical Society, and to Mr. Riddle, for your enthusiasm to preserve the story of Donald Douglas.
“Is there a better way to end the day?” A rhetorical question when you’re flying just above the ridges in a cosy Cessna 152, turning circles to collect the sunset inside the little cabin. Rafa has just shown me his favorite local flight, dipping down close to a barrragem, or reservoir, not far from the Aerodromo de Viseu in Portugal.
The TL 2000 (aka “Sting”) looking out on to the ramp at the Aerodromo de Viseu
Capitão Rafa makes the turn into the sunset
Looking out over the lake and the Serras in the distance
These sorties are sweeter because they can happen with an ease you don’t find often in the more constrained airports around Portugal and Spain. An understanding allows for short flights to take place ad hoc, without the extensive flight plans normally required when you’re flying place to place around Europe. The Aéro Clube de Viseu (ACV) takes full advantage of this, and respects the privilege—but it causes me to shake my head. Most of my flying has been just as self-propelled, VFR, free from restriction, and wide open to serendipity—not the exception.
Like the sun coming down over the Serra da Estrela, the highest mountains in Portugal. We have just enough time to hop in the 152, run up, clear for takeoff, and make a few 360s around the lake, the river, the capela on the hill. The air is butter smooth, and Rafa graciously gives me the controls. I get current in a handful of landings. Current enough for this, I believe.
ACV has been flying for more than 50 years, with its foundation on March 16, 1966. Today, it includes the informal extension of the no-longer-active EAA chapter, with several members shepherding homebuilt projects, and a flight school. Prominent among the experimental aircraft on the scene: the first Sonex to take its birth-flight in Portugal—a bright yellow bird proudly flown by its owner-builder, rumored to be the past EAA chapter president.
The historic hangar for Aéro Clube de Viseu on a bluebird Saturday in December
Ready for takeoff to the south at Viseu
A new feeling: to fly level with a centuries-old chapel
The aéro clube has its own aircraft as well—the 152, used for private pilot instruction, and the Portuguese-built LAND Africa for ultralight pilots. A course for an ultralight certification (allowing you to fly an aircraft up to 450 kg under the program) runs about €3,500, reflecting the lower fuel costs and total time required for that certificate. A private pilot license will take about €7,500 of investment. When you consider the low cost of living in north central Portugal, the generally good weather, and the open airspace, it could be a great deal for a prospective pilot seeking something different.
For most ACV members, though, the club’s primary feature is its social fly-out calendar. Every month during spring through fall, the club finds a place within Portugal—or as far afield as southern France—to take a gaggle of airplanes and spend a few days in the air. Recent trips have been to a fly-in ranch in Alentejo, and a summer trip up to Carcassonne, France.
Putting the sunset into our rear view as we return to the aerodromo
The Cabinet of Fame at ACV
Of course the little ones need inspiration too!
The airport at Viseu hosts internal airline flights, firefighting operations, and powered parachutes. It’s an eclectic mix—and a tenuous balance. Some would have the general aviation side disappear completely in favor of more commercial aviation, though there is not yet the population base to support much more than what is offered.
The threat of change keeps everyone focused on flying as much as possible in the meantime. As the days grow longer and the sunsets deepen into choral oranges and reds over the mountains, it’s easy to find excuses to just go fly.
The champion rarely needs further proof of success, in the hearts of public opinion. And when you’re trying to entice a reticent audience to take a risk, that proof may be the special catalyst you need.
For more than 100 years, innovators in aviation have recognized that the key to their economic viability usually lies in gaining public acceptance—and there are few more visible ways to achieve that than winning a race, or setting a new record.
When I recall the races to win various speed prizes back in the early days of commercial air transport, I see the parallels to today’s efforts to demonstrate the concepts going into electric aircraft. Case in point: Rolls-Royce building an all-electric aircraft with the intent to move the bar past 300 mph.1 The project, part of Accelerating the Electrification of Flight—or ACCEL—shows that even a world leader in the industry can’t just toil away in isolation. A prize, and the publicity that goes with it, will be needed to catalyze acceptance. With the barriers that we must still surmount in making electric-powered aircraft the standard, having the public behind it is critical.
In 1935, Douglas Aircraft Company met a similar challenge. With its DC-1 and DC-2 flying, it faced intense competition from European manufacturers—and a still-reticent public not yet sold on the idea of transcontinental flight. The U.S.-based National Aeronautical Association (NAA) wished to recapture a raft of speed records and prove the value of American aircraft manufacturing. So TWA, who had purchased the original DC-1, loaned it in pursuit of gaining back the advantage.
“The first record-breaking attempt launched from Floyd Bennett Field on Long Island, New York, at 7 a.m. on the morning of May 16, 1935. Loaded with extra weight (to meet international class criteria), the DC-1 took off with a run of 30 seconds and headed south at 10,000 feet. For an entire day, [TWA’s experimental test pilot Tommy] Tomlinson and co-pilot Bartles flew a triangular course between New York, Washington, D.C., and Norfolk, breaking a record roughly every three hours. When the clock ticked over 1:50 a.m. the next day, they had set a new record for the 5,000 km mark (nonstop) in 18 hours, 22 minutes, and 49 seconds, at an average speed of 169.03 mph.”2
The proposed electric aircraft from Rolls-Royce’s ACCEL intends to double that mark. Though attaining a pure speed won’t fully solve other critical elements of the problems faced (battery weight and life, among others), it will surely contribute to the public’s good perception of the concept. In hot pursuit of viable electric aircraft, success will breed future acceptance.
We’d traveled to Santa Monica on the day before, to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the DC-3’s first flight. Because the weather on the actual day, December 17, 2010, threatened low clouds and rain, we planned to fly with a friend in Betsy’s Biscuit Bomber, a C-47 based in Paso Robles, on the afternoon of the 16th, from the Santa Monica Airport at 3:30 pm, to match the time that Carl Cover first took a Douglas Sleeper Transport to the skies in 1935.
But we had time to kill—a dangerous thing for a pilot crew—so I told my pals Dan and Matt that we’d drive down San Vicente Boulevard, so that we could see the house that Donald Douglas had designed and built, in 1927, for his family. Well, what we *could* see of it, hidden behind its long stucco walls.
We parked and walked along the sidewalk to the front gate, which had been braced with the Olde English style lamps that Doug favored. I peered through a crack…you couldn’t really see a thing from the road. “Should we see if anyone’s there?” said Dan. I hesitated. It never occured to me to ring the bell, to disturb whoever lived there. But it was early afternoon on a weekday—so in my mind, no one was likely to answer.
But someone did. And introducing himself as the house manager, the man asked what we wanted. Dan told him we were in town to celebrate the DC-3, that we knew the house as Doug’s own. And next thing we knew, the gate parted, opening onto a drive down which strolled Douglas, the kind estate manager, who offered to show us around.
I was stunned, not believing our luck. Jim Douglas, Doug’s son, had told me that he hadn’t seen inside the house since it was sold, following his parents’ divorce, in the mid 1950s.
We walked past the rose garden and around the back into the living room. The house was overjoyed with Christmas decorations, lending it a timeless, enchanted feeling. Douglas detailed the restoration work that the owner had completed—she was a native to the neighborhood, and most everything in the house was still original, as the only intermediate owner died without any money to remodel or fix things up.
He introduced us to the kitchen, the dining room, and the lounge, complete with its own pine-clad bar set into the wall. He showed us where the fallout shelter had been, and where Doug’s shop once stood—it was now an intimate movie theater, where once Doug had built models and tinkered with inventions with his children.
Finally, we stood in what had been Doug’s study, and I took in its somber, yet inviting warmth. I imagined his books lining the shelves—knowing that he kept special ones locked away in a hidden cupboard. I asked Douglas if he’d found it, and he smiled. Yes, and he showed us where it was—exactly where my eyes had been. It was the most logical place, but somehow, also, it made sense to me in a different way. I understood a little bit more that day about the man who led his company to create the DC-3.
He came home to his study each day during those years between 1932 and 1936, when the development of the Douglas Commercial line hit full stride, and came to a milestone with the entry into service of American’s first DST in 1936. Douglas had set out a leather-bound folder on the desk, with Doug’s initials (DWD) embossed in gilt on the front cover. Inside were a series of professional photos, shot dramatically in black and white—they were staged for an issue of Architectural Digest that neither Douglas nor I have been able to locate. These were used to help the owner restore the home to its period state.
But more so than that, they confirmed that where we stood resembled very closely the home in which Doug lived while the DC-3 came to life in the factory over in Santa Monica’s Clover Field municipal airport. I breathed in every bit of those rooms that I could, knowing that someday I would write more about this intriguing man’s life.
That was eight years ago, of course. So this year, I’m proud to wish a Happy 83rd Birthday to the DC-3, and raise a toast to 2018 during which that biography, “Honest Vision: The Donald Douglas Story,” came to life.
The Douglas C-47 Miss Virginia at Oshkosh 2018. Photo by Stephen Yeates.
When I planned the scenic flight with the Cessna Pilot Center in Honolulu at the time, Flight School Hawaii, I didn’t put it together that our flight around the island of Oahu would bring us back over Ford Island, the site where the USS Arizona lies at its troubled rest.
On this day, December 7, but 77 years ago now, the ship was sunk at anchor by the attack on Pearl Harbor by the Japanese forces.
On that day in 2008, a brilliantly blue sky in January echoed the waters beneath us as the controller at Honolulu International asked us to hold over the island. With each turn, we circled the graveyard of hundreds of soldiers lost on that morning. The slow hold gave a chance to mourn from above–and to look out over the land, to see the inland pass over which the fighters slung themselves at an unsuspecting air station.
Each time we pass another 7th of December, I remember.
Returning to Honolulu International
Approaching the USS Missouri and the remains of the USS Arizona in January 2008
The outline of the USS Arizona shows through the somber blue waters near Ford Island
Short final at Honolulu International in January 2008
