BILL WINTER'S FOR OPENERS
Editors never expect people to understand them. It isn't that we don't have "fun," as readers think, living smack-dab at the center of the modeling universe. If there is pleasure, it is the zest of always looking for the City of Gold—a "perfect" issue filled with premier people with something to say and knowing how to say it. It isn't fun at all. It is sensing that, just maybe, this package whipped together in the frenzy of a 30-day period is real value given to the folks who pay for it.
Editors have their moment of truth when the advance copy is dumped on their desks. Like a juggler, we always have three issues going at once: the one to be printed, the second in final stages right on its heels, and a third in planning stage with odds and ends all over the place—dozens of people, in office or far away, fighting their own 30-day cycles. And there is the daily skirmishing with many more people who are sweating out perhaps half a hundred projects. We are traffic cops. And characters. We are absent-minded, hooked, and we sometimes wonder what in heck we are doing here.
The real editors are the readers. They know what they want and our mission is to give it to them. They judge us. It is they who can fire us if we come up short. So anytime you see some guy on the street muttering to himself, hey, man, he could be one of us. But we would die without all this! Fun? Well, OK. We are hams.
The April Issue
This April issue, perhaps, is a great one. The editor knows full well that an issue he thinks a failure may be praised to the sky, and the one he is proud of won't make a ripple. At layout stage, we think, "This one can't miss." The writers are illustrious. Where would one find another Brad Powers, who begins a mini-series about the CG? He works up to a crescendo in Part III—a memorable series indeed.
Usually, people who know the subject can't get to us in language we can understand, or apply in a practical way the complex science of aerodynamics with all its intricate math. Brad, retired from a brilliant career at Convair, is now almost totally involved in architectural matters. Almost. Also a modeler, he feels duty-bound to put into meaningful shape many things we continuously strive to understand.
He's a perfectionist. No sooner is an article delivered than he frets about its exactness and simplicity. Changes fly, sometimes we go on hold, and he may even redo the whole bloody thing. And then more changes. It must be the way they build nuclear carriers. He worries about blowing the editor's mind. Brad knows many of the great corporate design geniuses. He consults them and words get subtly changed. Little wonder he is so respected.
And since this is the season when pages are not crammed with major meet reports—an AMA duty, and the editor's as well—we can present such gems as Don Berliner's report on the Musee de l'Air. Don went to Paris for us, so the rare atmosphere of that venerable museum comes through. He communed with all the remarkable aircraft, some out of Genesis, and his color photographs fit the mood. Perhaps aviation's most prolific reporter, Don tied in our Dr. Livingston search with other endeavors, to our good fortune. Such coverages normally are possible only for well-heeled periodicals. The French museum, the equivalent of our National Air & Space Museum, is one of the wonders of our air world. This editor has wanted to cover it "live" since he was a fledgling. The French display everything they have, and the vast display is much more than gems rotated with other wonders somewhere in storage. Its displays are vibrant.
Why must everything be just models? Models are planes, and many planes, among them numerous items from the Musee de l'Air, have become models around the globe. It is a scale modeler's heaven—the happy hunting ground. This project has been a year in the making.
Scale Drawings and Accuracy
And it is the season when at long last we can present more of those remarkable scale drawings by people like Harry Robinson (Fairey Long Range Monoplane), Connie McClure and Ken Wilson. We will publish Wilson's Northrop Alpha which hangs in the Smithsonian. (They even gave him a ladder in off hours so he could get close to it.) Robinson dies a thousand deaths every time he goes into "seclusion." He's an accuracy freak. Inspecting a Caudron at the Musee de l'Air, he found a minor lettering mistake. If the subject is in a U.S. or British museum, or in some obscure collection, it will be checked out by someone.
We are moved by the delicately delineated drawings of the Fairey. Since boyhood we've wanted it published—it's that kind of an airplane. Lovely proportions for so many forms of modeling—what a subject for the scale man.
Construction Projects
Construction projects are an important ingredient of all our magazines. We can't fly all these forms of models, and we may seldom build any outside our prime interest area—though lots of guys do—but it is richly fulfilling when great designers give us their thinking, their know-how—the state-of-the-art.
Although the editor may never build a combat model, he spent the better part of a year urging, cajoling, pleading with, reminding Gene Pape to show us his foam combat model and techniques.
Why so important? Gene is respected by his peers. Combat is not some demolition derby of cabin models, as many persist in thinking. It has an image. There are trends, and no matter how much these crates may look alike, there is always one which has the edge over all others—for the moment.
Gene is into foam. He knows what he is doing—you RC guys don't have any monopoly on techniques. Foam has its advantages but you have to know precisely what you are doing when you relate it to the special problems of combat. Gene should be a teacher. He rivets attention. Gets across vividly the methods, the jigs, etc. He hollows the cores. We are interested in that as something to be more seriously considered—especially on large, thick wings in general, where even foam builds up weight.
In the late fifties we saw in a Canadian newsletter an illustrated item on foam cutting for combat, and a first. Ed Izzo, a career pattern maker, refined the concept and demonstrated cutting, etc., annually at the old Buffalo Bison's get-togethers. He easily cut several span-saw cores from within the finished sheet, leaving "spar" areas. But inside cores seem all but forgotten. We sometimes cut big lightening holes from top to bottom—see Bonnema/Lowe Zlin in the February issue. We are lucky to be favored by Gene Pape—and the recent run of CL authors who proved to be erudite writers. Don't consider a combat man a rough-and-tumble woodsman. These guys, like all of us, are from all walks of life—engineers, airline pilots, professional people. They have made combat a category to be respected.
Rubber-Scale and Twins
Nor are other "crates" in this issue mere over-the-transom things. Among rubber-scale people—and if this be a minority, it is some minority—Dennis Norman has universal respect. Few would tackle a twin-engine rubber model. We saw his Tigercat bring down the house at the FAC Nats—cheers and shouts all over the field. It may be beyond the abilities of many "skilled" modelers. It is a milestone. We can enjoy it, even if only to marvel. It has done 43 seconds—so far. That is a long time when you are watching. We don't claim Dennis is the first—but he can take a bow for his achievement.
The Twin Snipe by Dave MacRoberts is a significant RC. It is, of course, a derivative of Bill Evans' Snipe first published in December 1976. Snipe was built by the thousands. We had many vague worries—did the darn thing really fly well, would the guys handle it, or would rattlebuilders burn us in effigy. It was a tremendous success—you see how smart editors really are? Snipe is maneuverable and, of all things, reasonably docile. One recently won Novice Pattern at the Winter Nats—praiseworthy, we think, but not indicative of anything earth-shaking. But a twin? Did we have a death wish? But it's apparently another winner—if your bag is twins. An engine out doesn't faze it, and it has been taken off on one rib. All that power with that little drag! Seeing is believing, now that we see it in print. The new and different is the spice of life. Things like ducted fans, Simitars and X-Wings intimidated us as young editors. The pioneers did a bit of guessing. The designers of what you see in this magazine today place a higher priority on their designs than seeing their names in print.
The Aristocrat Project
It is January 13, but spring, like Kipling's sun, is coming up like thunder across China Bay. Last night we weighed the 1/4-scale Aristocrat at 16 pounds, less covering. It is nip and tuck to get it flown during 1980. Our shop is like a trailer camp after a tornado. Tools play hide-and-go-seek. The project already is just shy of a year. We marvel at the many people who turn out exotic big scalers, built like the real thing down to the last turnbuckle. Ours is crude by comparison. We don't find it fun. It moves at the pace of a superhighway project.
On the other hand, we have a friend who designed and built a gorgeous Waco cabin in three months, less covering. It weighs 28 pounds with an Enya. He worked on it from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m., almost daily. We get a half hour here, an hour there, occasionally a day, and once in a blue moon, two days running. Assuming an average of an hour a day, including design, we've used about 350 hours. A minimum of another 150 lies ahead.
Should you build a biggie? Well, if you do—and unless you have plenty of shop time, and are a gifted, well-equipped craftsman, don't go the scratch-built route. Buy a good kit. You'll save money, too. We don't know why we are building this thing—it just happened. We can't give up. Like the mountain, it is there. Finishing it has become a duty—like feeding the dog and cat every day.
Aiming at 15 pounds, we had planned using a Fox 78, a real lugger that can turn a respectable prop. We've switched now to a dieselized .60. Bob Davis is converting Duke's new Eagle to get his figures, and we will flight test it. Don't laugh. That .60—and our Max—turns a 16 x 4 at 10,000 rpm. We have 13-1/2 sq. ft. of area. When we flew endurance models years ago we got a fast takeoff and rapid climb to pinpoint altitude of 11-pound, 7-oz. crates with 84 fluid ounces in the tank on a 1.5 Diesel. Can we do it? Time will tell. One suggestion: If you build a biggie first, make sure you have back-up crates ready to fly so you don't lose out on the fun at the field.
Renovation and Smaller Projects
Norm Rosenstock, who has three of our prior-to-1960 crates from escapement days, gave us back an ancient Airknocker (published in Flying Models in the early sixties). Now we are into renovation! The Aristocrat is a homebuilt—not a model. Renovation is another full-scale thing. Davis has a dieselized Fox .15 which will spin a 10-3/4 like mad (we flew diesels for two years in the dim days almost beyond recall). We'll add a modest elevator, and go R.E.M. This will be a crate for everyday flying—always at the ready. And if you recall our 6-ft. low wing lightweight with a Veco .19 (the round-the-world glider), we gritted our teeth and cut off the tip panels by running the lovely wing through the Dremel jigsaw. (Picture appeared in a past column.) We'll build in one foot more on each panel, for an 8 ft spread. Outer panels will have modest polyhedral—and now there is a big sailplane-like fin and rudder. Though the ship flew well, it didn't have a natural groove for hands-off circling in lift on low motor or in the glide. A slight tendency to wander was evident, required control inputs, and we could not eliminate this by CG and incidence changes, or by fiddling with the profile by going to a low rudder and a set of subrudders under the stab. The ship felt "stiff" in circling flight. Rudder power nose-high was poor.
At eight feet, it will be more short-coupled, and if we were to saw the wing in half to add dihedral (it is a low wing, remember), why not stretch the wing and use poly? It probably will need spoilers now—like a sailplane. (This is why we have delayed sending prints, you guys who requested them.)
Bill Evans became interested in the original concept, and came up with his Crosswind, also 6 feet and the same .19. He has glass fuse, tapered foam wing, trike gear—shorter, it performs beautifully. He sent us components and we've flown it—just three flights before winter shut off flying. (It will be published.)
So we compared notes. F.O. never used a knife-sharp leading edge—supposed to stall easily. Forget that. Ours has a fat leading edge and one is as good as the other. But be sure the bottom is flat, right out to the extreme L.E. Don't raise the L.E. if sharp—that might be unflyable (we know one job that won't!). And our big Sniffer was unscathed last year. We also would like to fly again the RC Special, the scaled-down version of a design we published in 1948 in Mechanix Illustrated (Walt Schroder built the original to our design—you there, Walt?) But it has no radio in it, and has about 1/8 inch of dust on top of it.
Incidentally, when the humongous Aristocrat is finished we'll build something small, interesting, and pleasurable. A rubber-powered Japanese Zero. Been hoarding a profile on this ship for over a year. And a small-field free flight for a .049. High pylon with sheet to support a well-polyhedral wing, a built-up lifting stab, remainder sheet. Extremely simple frame with minimum pieces, beefy—high performance as a warm-up if you aren't going the competition route. Tight corkscrew climb—we'll need some simple mechanical stab pop-up, not a fuse, and certainly not a Stiegel timer. Any suggestions? (If you feel a bit witty, do resist it!)
We are going home again.
Transcribed from original scans by AI. Minor OCR errors may remain.
