by Russell Still, AutoPILOT Magazine
I have long held a fascination for the lumbering
giants that helped end World War II. Their dolphin
snouts and sleek curves are instantly recognizable
to any pilot, although sightings are becoming a
rarity. We are probably more likely to see sadly
corroded examples, sitting aloft flattened tires on
abandoned ramps. But on the occasions that we do see
one of these airplanes in flight, we are reminded of
their majesty - their grace and endurance - and
their unwillingness to leave an era behind.
The Douglas DC-3 has a colorful history. Labeled
the C-47 by the military, it dropped American
paratroopers into France on D-Day and carried
supplies over the Himalayas to the Flying Tigers in
China. Postwar, the indomitable patriot hauled
thousands of tons of cargo into a Soviet-besieged
West Berlin. President Dwight Eisenhower would later
cite the airplane as being one of the "most vital"
pieces of equipment used by the Allies.
But the famous long-hauler wasn’t initially
designed as a military airplane. It first entered
service to the fledgling commercial airline fleet in
the mid-1930s and by the end of its production run
in 1944, well over 10,000 had been built. It
remained the world’s premier passenger airliner into
the 1950s.
While airworthy DC-3s still exist, pilots trained
to fly them are becoming an increasingly scarce
commodity. There are no simulators to teach the next
generation of piston airline captains. If you want
to try your hand in a DC-3, you have to find one and
an MEI who knows how to fly it. And there are fewer,
still, of those.
That’s the revelation Dan Gryder had when he
acquired N143D. Dan now offers one of the country’s
few DC-3 training programs. If you come in with the
necessary credentials, he’ll get you a DC-3 type
rating for a really reasonable price. It is quite a
bargain and a lot of pilots are taking him
up on it.
Gryder’s airplane was originally built in 1938.
It gave many years of service as an airliner before
being relegated to cargo hauling. Now, in its
twilight years, it has become an elder statesman of
flight. It’s sponsor, Herpa Miniature Models,
has created a line of die cast copies of N143D to
celebrate the historic aircraft. You can fly the
airplane, and purchase a miniature facsimile for
your desk to remember the event.
My introduction to the airplane began in Dan’s
Training Center at the
Griffin-Spalding Airport. We went over escape
procedures, our individual duties as pilots, and the
weight and balance. Before every flight, a
computerized weight and balance is performed. The
bottom line on it supplies the elevator trim that
would be used on takeoff. In our case, that would be
–2.7 degrees.
The preflight started in the cockpit and was
extensive. As with any other aircraft, a crew
familiar with the checklist could do it in short
order. It took us a good ten minutes. The exterior
walkaround was straightforward and without any
surprises.
Back inside, we set to work with the startup
checklist. Starting a Pratt and Whitney on a DC-3 is
a fairly tricky maneuver, involving both pilots and
all four hands. The heavy blades seem to rotate
forever before a rumble and a belch of smoke
announces the successful ignition. Each engine
generates 1200 horsepower and guzzles avgas at a
voracious rate. The airplane is always flown fully
fueled.
The engines produced a satisfying, staccato growl
as we taxied out to the runway. Something only a
radial can do. After announcing our departure, I
eased the two throttles forward and the giant began
rolling. Dan had warned me about the sight picture
when the tail came up, and he was absolutely
correct. This wasn’t just a normal tailwheel view;
it really did look like we were staring straight
down into the pavement. Dan flashed a hand signal to
me and I rotated the airplane into a shallow
departure.
The countryside looks different from the vantage
point of a DC-3. I guess the thrill of flying such a
grand old bird influences one’s perceptions. Dan
likes to say that it flies just like a J-3 Cub,
albeit with slower response, but I don’t agree. Oh,
I suppose the controls do the same things and the
instruments work as expected. But there is something
different. Something about the way you manage the
energy of the airplane – something about the way you
feel when you sweep it through graceful turns. Or
maybe it’s just the way you sit up straight in the
seat, unable to conceal the excitement. I know
that’s how I felt as I turned the wheel and banked
the airplane off to the southeast.