pilot report Bellanca 14-13 Cruisair
by
Budd Davisson
We fly the
Cardboard Constellation
What is it
about wood that scares the living hell out
of a large part of the US pilot population?
Whatever gives those pilots the termite
heebie geebies, it is also responsible for
most of the controversy surrounding
wooden-winged airplanes and especially the
fabled line of Bellanca low-wingers.
Bellanca low-wing flying
machines cleave a very defined line between
pilots that clearly puts the aircraft into
either a "love it" or "leave it" category.
Most would just as soon forget Bellancas
because they've heard all the tales about
wood wings failing - spars made into
sponge-like masses by alien organisms - and
plywood punched into screen wire consistency
by little boring things with green eyes and
pointy teeth.
Let's set the record
straight right up front: The most accurate
information available indicates only four
known in- flight failures of Bellanca wings.
At least one of those had to do with
aerobatics in extreme turbulence. All
failures were in the later Viking series
which were heavier and much faster than the
early airplanes. Despite these statistics,
pilots still are much more willing to climb
into a V-tailed doctor/lawyer killer than a
Bellanca. This makes little sense since the
Bonanza has staggering wing failure
statistics. The real shame is that by
avoiding Bellanca low-wingers, a pilot is
depriving himself of one of aeronautica's
greatest pleasures.
To put it simply:
Regardless of the age, model or lineage,
Bellanca airplanes are among the best
flying, best feeling cross- country
airplanes ever built. That's only one man's
opinion so I don't want a deluge of mail
from Navion/Mooney/Bonanza/Comanche/Wilga/Storch
owners. I also prefer redheads over blondes
and Brownings over Berettas.
While we're at it, let's
get another fact out of the way: Yes, wood
deteriorates and that bit of space-age
wisdom is about two notches below common
sense. A lot of Bellanca wood has
deteriorated because common sense in storing
aircraft is not always exercised during that
middle part of an airplane's life span when
the craft is so obsolete it doesn't qualify
for "used" category and hasn't yet made
"classic" status. Put wood out in the
elements and it will, eventually, be much
the worse for the wear. Is aluminium that
much different?
Bellanca, as a name, is nearly as old as
aviation. Guiseppe was building some of the
most useable airplanes in the world long
before North American was born, before Bill
Piper decided to get into the airplane
business and before Clyde Cessna, Lloyd
Stearman and Walter Beech were anything
other than Travel Air employees, Bellanca's
Pacemaker and Skyrocket designs were working
machines that may not have been as famous as
many, but they were respected by those who
used and flew them. We were well into the
1980s before the last Bellanca was retired
in the Canadian/Alaskan bush. And none of
them were much less than 60 years old!
Bellanca aircraft were
always remarkably efficient when measured
against the mission for which they were
designed. The Pacemaker and Skyrocket could
carry huge loads and were fairly fast for
their size. So, it was only natural that
when Guiseppe decided to get into the small,
personal airplane market, his designs should
be just as efficient. In 1937 he introduced
models 14-07 and 14-09, referred to as the
"Junior:' These were lithe little
three-place low-wing machines that used a
variety of engines, including the tiny
LeBlond radial. With only 100-125 hp on tap
the design was incredibly fast, giving over
1 mph per horsepower. The mile/per
horsepower became a Bellanca trademark. Only
approximately 50 Juniors were built before
the war diverted Bellanca's attention to
more pressing matters.
After the war a new
design, the 14-13, was introduced and used
either 150 or 165 hp Franklin six cylinder
engines and was named the "Cruisair".
Structurally, the plane was essentially the
older Junior with numerous modifications,
but the concept remained the same. The wing
was a relatively high-aspect ratio, all-wood
unit that utilized a special Bellanca
airfoil. The landing gear retracted Seversky-style,
meaning the gear folded straight back -
leaving about half of the wheel exposed. The
fuselage was traditional rag and tube which
enveloped the passengers in a crash cage
that looks as if it was designed
specifically for running through trees. The
foregoing is an accurate description of any
and all Bellanca low-wing 14 series designs.
The concept hasn't changed from the Junior
to the 1988 Viking (yes, there are 1988
Vikings). It worked then and it works now.
With over 50 years of
Bellancas to choose from, the choice was
difficult but we decided to concentrate on
the early - and still plentiful - 14-13
series. In researching this series, we
learned lots about Bellancas in general and
the accompanying sidebar is an attempt to
furnish some chronological information about
the development of the descendants of the
14-13.
The 14-13 Cruisair was Bellanca's big hammer
for the aviation boom that was supposed to
follow the war. The boom never happened but
Bellanca (along with everybody else in
aviation) didn't know that until they had
run a bunch of airplanes out the door. In
total something over 580 Cruisairs were
built 1946-1949, Like today's Viking. they
were essentially hand-crafted airplanes,
Unlike the Cessnas and Beeches of the era
(G17S not withstanding), the structure of
the Cruisair didn't lend to mass production
since tubing goes together with a pair of
hands and a welding torch. The wings require
hand fitting thousands of small parts.
Fabric covering, of course, demands an
enormous amount of elbow grease. These
factors are the primary reason Cruisairs
didn't totally flood the market. as did
Cessnas and other airplanes that demanded
less man-hours to build. In 1946 an amazing
35.000 plus airplanes were produced (compare
that to 1987's 1000 odd machines) and only a
small number were Bellancas.
With a 150 or 165 hp six
cylinder Franklin, the Bellanca's were fast.
The book cruise figures were 150 mph plus
which was comparable to the higher-powered
Cessna 195 or Beech Bonanza. Even more
amazing was the airplane's maximum dive
speed (they didn't call it Vne in those
days) of 216 mph. That figure bespoke of
strength far in excess of that required.
At 2150 pounds (an early
Viking is 500-600 pounds heavier) the
airplane had approximately 950 pounds useful
load with two 20 gallon wing tanks. An
optional 12 gallon aux tank could be fitted
under the rear seat. but very few were so
outfitted. Propeller options included the
Sensenich fixed club or a controllable
Sensenich that reportedly had such a bad
reputation even the factory has tried to
disown the design. The propeller of choice
was usually the well-known Aeromatic
automatic adjustable or, occasionally. a
two-position variation of the Aeromatic.
The old Cruisair is one
of those airplanes that has al-ways been
there." There is something about its lines
that don't really fit any era. Even when
new, the Cruisair was " different" for lack
of a better term. Today, the design
obviously harkens back to an older era but
it's hard to decide which era. The Bellanca
is sleek, but the rectangular fuselage cross
section gives corners that modern eyes don't
normally associate with streamlining. But to
those with a certain kind of eye. the
Bellanca has always appeared just right.
I have one of those eyes.
Probably the only reason I have never owned
a triple-tail Bellanca (we used to call them
"Cardboard Constellations," but now we have
to explain the Constellation part to the
younger generation), is I seldom use
airplanes to go anywhere and I'm the only
one in my family who flies. If I had any
need at all for a cross-country airplane,
the triple-tailed Bellanca would be on the
top of the list.
Finding 14-13's
isn't as easy as it used to be because they
currently change hands much less frequently
and owners have wised up to the secret of
Bellanca longevity which is good hangar
space. We no longer see Bellancas
languishing around on back tie-down lines.
Fortunately. there are two Bellancas
hangared with Aero Sport in St. Augustine.
Florida, and one of the owners, Bob Meadows,
was more than accommodating. It seems
Bellanca owners like nothing better than to
show other pilots what they are missing! The
Meadows Bellanca is essentially a dead-stock
Cruisair. It hasn't received one of the many
engine transplants so common (bigger
Franklins with constant speeds. Lycomings.
etc.) and, with the exception of what appear
to be later fiberglass wing fairings. it has
none of the many speed kits available.
In walking around a
taildragger Bellanca, the first thing that
pilots say is "The gear looks bent" The
axles are mount-ed on the gear legs in such
a way that the tires tilt outward and look
really awkward. The official explanation is
the prototype had much less dihedral and
proved too unstable so Bellanca increased
the dihedral. This change put the tires at
an angle to the ground but to have changed
that angle would have required entirely new
retracting geometry for the gear legs and
the factory decided it wasn't worth the
effort and/or money. Forty years later, they
still look bent.
The gear is a welded up
affair that uses a really ingenious
retraction and lock down system. A hand
operated (an electric conversion is often
done) screw jack pulls back on the top of a
long over-centre strut which pulls the gear
back and up. The system is simplicity
personified and easy to rig and inspect.
Another item often
mentioned are the eyebrow cuffs on the
cowling air inlets. They look like
afterthoughts. which they were. While
climbing, the Franklin apparently doesn't
get enough cooling air with the stock
cowling, so a set of air-catchers was
designed and approved. They work, but they
sure do look like somebody goofed somewhere
along the line.
Boarding the airplane
requires stepping over the spring loaded
flap and leaning well forward to grab the
edge of the door to stabilize yourself,
since there is no hand hold. Many Bellancas
have a small handhold cut-out in the top
edge of the fuselage to help folks get in
but Meadow's airplane didn't have this
feature.
The door opening extends toward the middle
of the fuselage. so contorting is cut to a
minimum when stepping into the cabin. This
is when folks generally make their second
comment about Cruisairs. "Boy. it sure is
cozy!" or some-thing like that is uttered
and they are right. Speed on low horsepower
means minimum drag and that means minimum
frontal area and that's what the Cruisair
has, at the expense of the front seat
passengers. After you've been in the
airplane a bit, you learn what to do with
the arm that always seems to be entangled
with the body in the other seat so the
situation doesn't seem nearly so tight.
A common complaint about
Cruisairs was there wasn't room in the
instrument panel for radios. The panel
really is narrow, but modern electronics
have come to the rescue, replacing the old
Narco Superhomers and later KX-150s with
boxes that take up half the space. Outfitted
with modern slim line radios and LORAN,
about all that can be said about the panel
is it looks "tidy:' The top of the original
panel is quite low and gives excellent
visibility and the new radios eliminate the
need to build the often-seen "hump" that
sticks up into the field of vision.
Meadows literally turned
his airplane over to Carl Pascarell and
myself to go see what the airplane does and
doesn't do and Carl and I went out to see
what we could see.
The first thing I found
on taxiing was the tailwheel would
eventually point the airplane where it was
supposed to be pointed, but on the ramp a
touch of brake now and then was needed.
Fortunately. visibility over the nose is 7
on a 1 to 10 scale. By stretching hard, it's
even possible to see completely over the
nose.
The seat is definitely
not of the adjustable variety, the bottom
frame being part of the fuselage tubing
structure. It was, however situated just
right for my very average five-ten frame.
The brake pedal adjustment was a little out
of whack, since it was hard to get full
rudder without getting a little of the
expander tube brakes into the act. This
information was forwarded from Carl who was
sitting in the left, so I could fly with my
right hand. I had no brakes on my side,
which meant requests for".. . give me a
touch of right.' At the end of the runway a
quick run-up indicated several things. The
most important was that the 150 Franklin was
running fine and carb heat was good for a
nearly 200 rpm drop.. The mag check also
showed the smoothness of a 6 cylinder and
how little sound deadening there was in the
cabin structure.
Having flown the airplane
previously. Carl was rather insistent on two
points prior to takeoff: The airplane would
pull fairly hard to the left because of a
gear geometry problem and most of the
steering was going to come from the
tail-wheel. That was another way of saying,
as soon as the tail was up, expect the plane
to turn left.
Pushing the throttle knob to the panel, the
Franklin began dragging us down the concrete
while I concentrated on the edge of the
runway. St. Augustine has these enormous
wide, runways. I elected to use the right
half only to have better visual references.
As we leisurely accelerated, I purposely
kept the tail nailed down until the
slightest hint the airplane was getting
light. Visibility to that point had been
just fine and got positively wonderful when
I gently hoisted the tail. A right crosswind
was working to keep the airplane headed dead
straight and I made no effort to lift off.
The Bellanca trundled ahead while I tried to
keep the tail just a little low and it flew
off somewhere around 60 mph.
Keeping the nose down
until we had 85 mph on the clock, I waited
until we had 300 feet before cranking the
landing gear up. The handle is mounted on a
covered bracket between the two pilots at
the front edge of the seat. The polished
wooden grip showed it had been used plenty
and, as I grabbed it, I was mindful of
holding the landing gear handle with one
hand and the yoke with the other and I
imagined doing a push-me pull-you routine
that would result in a sawtoothed climb
profile. I was counting as I cranked but
there was no tendency to porpoise the nose.
As I counted into the
teens, my shoulder reminded me how torn-up
cartilage hated this kind of activity. By
the twenties I told Carl I was going to name
the article "Fly a Cruisair... if You're Man
Enough!" By that time the gear was going
over centre and moving easier. It wasn't
until the late thirties that the handle
stopped moving. Finally! It took 37 turns to
get the gear retracted. The screw jack
mechanism is its own up-lock and the
over-centre arm locks it down. There is no
internal gear position indicator. The pilot
knows if the gear is up or down by looking
at a half inch piece of painted metal
sticking through the surface of the left
wing root. The top is painted white, and
that's all that's supposed to be showing if
the gear is down and locked.
By this time, the
airplane was moving away from the ground at
about 700 fpm and not straining a bit. With
some airplanes, it feels as if climbing is
work but with that long wing, the Cruisair
didn't even break a sweat.
Carl and I talked about
this and we agreed that with some flying
machines, it takes a long time in them to
feel comfortable while others seem to fit
together immediately. The Cruisair fit
before it was even off the ground! For one
thing, the smallish cockpit seemed to get
larger as soon as we left the ground. More
importantly, the input of the controls and
the response of the airplane was perfectly
matched. The Bellanca seemed to know how I
wanted an airplane to feel. In a Cessna or a
Piper there is no doubt you are manipulating
a machine that flies. The mechanics of the
machine are always there to remind the pilot
that his thoughts and actions are translated
by a bunch of levers and gears that
eventually becomes flight. Not so the
Bellanca.
We're talking real
intangibles and possibly more than just a
little personal taste.
Whatever it is, the Bellanca has something
found in relatively few light airplanes.
That "just right" feeling doesn't happen
often - and almost never in four-place
transportation machines. The ailerons are
not only light, but response is immediate
without being twitchy. The breakout forces
exactly match the control forces so the
lateral control is a syrupy continuum, that
is the trademark of all Bellancas. When no
rudder is used, there is an amazing lack of
adverse yaw which would be expected with
wings that long. And the rudder and
elevator? They mix in so naturally with the
ailerons that little thought is given to how
they actually feel.
The Cruisair is a
40-year-old airplane and things like the
gear retraction system and elevator trim
reconfirm that age. The trim is mounted in
the middle of the top of the wind-shield and
faces the wrong way. . . the crank is
pointed forward. This is even worse than the
old Piper system. Fortunately the trim is
reasonably powerful, so the second it is
moved there is no doubt whether it is being
moved correctly. Exactly 50 percent of the
time I was wrong.
At altitude, I pulled the
carb heat and then the power, holding the
nose just above the horizon. Slowly the
speed bled off until I was sitting there
with the yoke against my chest, the airspeed
at 50-52 mph and the nose barely bobbing up
and down. The VSI read 700 fpm down. With
flaps the speed was well under 50 mph. We
didn't try stalls with the gear down because
I didn't know how much shoulder was left.
Most of the time we were
cruising around at 2400 rpm which gave an
indicated of about 132 mph. We wanted to do
some speed runs, but the St. Augustine area
isn't exactly flush with cornfields and
section lines so we had to content ourselves
with some two-way runs down St. Augustine's
8000 ft runway The results were a little
disappointing... 125 mph. In such a short
distance, any changes in altitude or heading
really affect the outcome.
At this point, a
discussion of speed is important. The
Bellanca Cruisair is an example of an
airplane that gets most of its speed out of
aerodynamics, not horsepower. The fuselage
is carefully designed to be an airfoil that
carries its own weight. The wings are long
and made to be slippery.
In fact, the entire
airframe is made to be slippery. Now, show
me one 42-year-old beauty that doesn't have
to work just a little to be slippery. Years
take their toll. Wing skins are wavy.
Fairings not tight. Maybe the wings aren't
rigged just right. In this particular
Cruisair, a little right aileron was needed
to keep it headed straight. On most
airplanes that would be no big deal, but on
a low powered. made-to-be-clean air-frame
like a Bellanca. the results are disastrous.
The boys who spend all
their time tinkering with Bellancas say it
takes only attention to detail and rigging
to get book speed numbers. And then, there
are a number of mods available that take
even more advantage of the airframe design.
Done with our speed runs.
I steeled myself for lowering the landing
gear. Bringing the speed down to 100 mph, I
started cranking and found putting the gear
down was much, much easier than bringing it
up. Something having to do with gravity, I
suspect.
On a tight downwind, I
reached way forward under the instrument
panel and found the flap handle, pulling it
back one notch for half flaps. The speed
stabilized at 85 mph with practically no
trim change. The same was true when full
flaps was selected on final and the speed
allowed to settle on 80 mph.
Approach was a simple
matter of pointing the nose at the numbers
and watching as the ground came up. Power
off, we settled into a groove that shallowed
out as I broke the glide and started feeling
for the ground. In earlier landings Carl had
found that with only two people on board the
airplane ran out of elevator in a three
point which put the Cruisair on the mains
with the tail several inches up. I knew no
way to prevent that, so I just concentrated
on the edge of the runway. keeping the
airplane straight and toying with the yoke
to keep just dear of the runway. By this
time the speed must have been (I was too
busy to look) in the low 50s and everything
was happening in slow motion. Then, I felt
the yoke hit the stop and at the same time
the gear squished on to the pavement. If the
tailwheel wasn't touching, I couldn't tell
because the touchdown was so slow and soft,
the plane just melted onto the runway.
We had reversed direction
on the runway and were landing opposite to
the direction we had taken off, so the wind
was from the left. And I knew it was there.
The wind and gear geometry called for
nailing the right rudder against the floor,
while the airplane ever so gently and slowly
moved to the left. This was happening in
slow, slow motion and I kept pleading for a
little right brake from Carl, but he sat
there heckling me for not being able to keep
it straight. Eventually, we coasted to a
stop and that was that. The airplane is very
low demand, as taildraggers go. Sort of like
a fat Citabria, only easier.
Normally, I would have
wanted to make a bunch more landings to get
comfortable in the airplane, but something
told me this wasn't necessary. Every single
part of the flight had been under total
control because the airplane had done
everything I asked. If the pilot asks the
Cruisair to do the right things, the flight
will always be a good one. And the critical
areas - such as takeoff and landing - happen
at such slow speeds. the pilot doesn't need
to be a Pitts type tail-dragger driver to
stay ahead of the Cruisair.
When we were sitting
around on Aero Sports' famed front porch (it
might as well have score cards to hold up
since everyone grades the landings so
vehemently) Carl and I both had the same
thoughts: The Cruisair airframe is a hell of
a good place to begin building a totally
useful. classic cross-country airplane. If
completely restored, the Cruisair would give
the pilot a classic machine that is every
bit as useful as anything available. And
with subtle, mostly invisible modifications,
the Bellanca could be a real hummer. It does
have some drawbacks, the condition of the
wood wings be-ing one and the smallish cabin
another. But those things are all livable.
Sitting in the back seat. I found my head
brushing the headliner but the unusual
windows gave the best view I've ever seen in
the back seat of an airplane.
This is not an every
person's airplane. To a lot of pilots, it
would be too classic and they wouldn't want
to worry about the fabric and the wood. They
might not like the tight cabin or the skill
requirement - small though it may be -the
tailwheel demands. These might overshadow
the air-plane's delightful handling and its
vintage charisma. For those pilots, there
are plenty of the more traditional choices
and that's understandable. Every pilot
should fly a Bellanca, any Bellanca. at
least once so they know what kind of choice
they are making. They should know what they
are missing. If they don't buy a Bellanca,
however, that's okay because it leaves that
many more of them for the rest of us! BD.
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