Being a Private Pilot and Aircraft Dispatcher for several decades, I’ve always been interested in various aspects of aerial navigation. In the mid-1990s, with GPS navigation on the horizon, I decided it was time to document the “brick and mortar” navaids. My favorite is the VOR station- that stands for very high frequency, omni-directional range.
These short-range navigation facilities exist worldwide, and were developed by the U.S. Civil Aeronautics Administration in the late 1930s, and perfected during WWII. These beacons transmit a signal in 360 directions (radials) over a VHF frequency, in the range of 108-117.95 MHz. Pilots tune in that frequency and the receiver in the aircraft directs them to fly to or from that VOR. It also allows them to identify and intercept certain radials, for en-route navigation (on so-called Victor Airways below 18,000 feet above mean sea level, or on Jet Routes, above Flight Level 180) as well as instrument approach procedures. The intersection of two radials, from two different VORs, can also allow one to determine their present position.
I concentrate on those in the United States, so this article will focus on those maintained by the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA), the successor to the CAA. There are other aviation navaids, but VORs are large, easily identifiable structures, so they caught my eye first.
VORs basically come in two versions, one that looks sort of like a big bowling pin, and another, the Doppler variety, which is typically elevated above the surrounding terrain, when nearby structures might affect the signal, which is usable in “line of sight” only. Some are classified as VORTACs, because they have the military’s TACAN (Tactical Air Navigation) system built-in, which provides similar information. There are also VOR-DMEs, which provide distance to the station. More detailed information can be found on wikipedia.com. They can be identified in flight by the Morse code of their identifier, aurally broadcast on the same frequency.
Here is an example of the Doppler VOR:
Maverick Doppler VOR/DME (TTT) at Dallas/Ft. Worth International Airport, October 2019 Photo Courtesy: Phil Brooks.
The technology, the world standard for more than 50 years, is still in use, but GPS (also known as GNSS-Global Navigation Satellite System) now dominates aerial navigation. The FAA is decommissioning most VORs over the next few years, but keeping what they call a Minimum Operational Network (MON), to provide basic conventional navigation service for operators to use if GNSS becomes unavailable.
The MON is intended to provide signal reception starting at above 5,000 feet Above Ground Level (AGL) over the continental United States, giving pilots the ability to navigate to a MON airport within 100 nautical miles and conduct an Instrument Approach without the use of GPS. This is planned to consist of 590 VORs, out of the almost 1,000 that existed in 2016, when de-commissioning began. So my hobby will continue for the indefinite future! While GPS is wonderful, it is vulnerable to some extent, and certainly has none of the “romance” or physical presence of the VOR system. Perhaps when the last VOR is de-commissioned, that will be my time to retire!
I appreciate both the history of the VOR system, because it was such an improvement over earlier systems of navigation, and, as a student of geography. My favorite VOR is the one nearest to my home, Brickyard (identifier: VHP), near Indianapolis, IN. I have dragged my wife Pam, even when we were dating, to a number of VORs, and she has a favorite too-Dove Creek (DVC) in southwest Colorado.
The author and the Dove Creek VORTAC (DVC) in southwest Colorado in February 2002. Photo Courtesy: Phil Brooks
The first VOR in the U.S. was located at the Indianapolis municipal airport, now Indianapolis International (IND). This was the location of the CAA’s Technical Center at the time. Indianapolis VOR was moved about 7 miles northwest of the airport at some point, and the name was later changed from Indianapolis (IND) to Brickyard (a nickname for the nearby Indianapolis Motor Speedway) in the 1990s, to avoid confusion between the VOR and the airport, since they were no longer co-located.
They are mostly named for nearby towns or cities, but sometimes after people. They also have three-letter codes, like airports. Some unusual names are Crazy Woman (CZI) in Wyoming, and Gipper (GIJ) near South Bend, IN and Notre Dame University.
Here is an example of what a VOR/DME looks like on the St. Louis Aeronautical Sectional Aeronautical Chart showing the Samsville VOR:
St. Louis Sectional Chart with Samsville VOR Image Courtesy: Phil Brooks via Public Domain.
Some are hard to find from the ground, because they are located on ridges or mountaintops, to provide an unobstructed signal. Others are easy, located right on airports. Their locations can be viewed on charts accessible via www.skyvector.com. In the “old days” before smartphones, I went on a few “wild goose chases” where I was unable to locate a VOR from ground level, much to the frustration of my wife! The Google Maps website (maps.google.com) has made it a lot easier to find them in advance of a search. Some come up in a location search, but for others you must enter the latitude and longitude (available from www.airnav.com).
When taking pictures of VORs, it’s important to stay on public property or get permission from the landowner. I’ve met some nice people this way, but it sometimes takes a bit of explanation as to why I am interested! I like that some people, even landowners, who receive payment for the use of their land, don’t know what those “bowling pins” are for.
I am a member of the Airline Dispatchers Federation (www.Dispatcher.org) and post a photo every month of a VOR, with clues as to its identity, for people to guess. Check it out, you don’t need to be a Dispatcher to play! The website can also be used to learn about the Dispatch profession, which I love.
Pictures of VORs from Captain’s Log readers around the world would be appreciated!
This article is dedicated to my wife, Pam, for putting up with many “VOR hunts,” and also to retired FAA technician Bill “Guido” Hyler, who has answered many of my VOR questions over the years.
As I was preparing my last article for the Captain’s Log, I was struck by the number of airlines in Central America which had connections with Pan American World Airways. The nineteen twenties and nineteen thirties saw the somewhat rapid and often chaotic development of air services in Central and South America. This area of the globe needed to move mail, people and cargo from many point As to many point Bs. The new opportunities were explored by local entrepreneurs and others from around the world. United States, German, French and Italian entities tried and failed or in some cases succeeded in establishing airlines in South America.
One name, Juan Terry Trippe, and one airline, Pan American World Airways feature prominently in this developing industry. PAA and Trippe, with the help of Charles Lindbergh, developed air routes along the east coast of the continent using both land and seaplanes. As new services were started, they went to these experts for technical and financial assistance. In other cases, such as the takeover of NYRBA by Panair do Brasil, the experts took over the competition. The old sports saying “You can’t tell the players without the program” holds true if one wants to try to follow the development of South American airlines. The best program would be Airlines of Latin America since 1919 by R.E.G Davies with more information about Pan American itself in Gene Banning’s Airlines of Pan American Since 1927.
Many of the insignia in my collection look as if PAA had a lot to do with the creation and/or operation of these South American carriers. In some cases this is true, but in others, the only connection is the similarity of insignia. Did the latter carriers just like the look of the PAA brass, or did they want the customers to assume a closer connection? We might never know.
I have also included several carriers which did not have any connection, but I found their insignia interesting.
Aero Peru, Aerolineas Argentinas, APSA, Area, C.A.U.S.A., Cruziero do Sul and NAB were independent, having no PAA connection. AVENSA was developed with PAA holding a 30 percent stake in the company. The PAA share of AVIANCA was 64 percent at its inception. Panair do Brasil was pretty much a Pan American Airways operation after the U.S. Post Office awarded it all of NYRBA’s mail contracts.
NAB, Navigasao Aerea Brasileira adopted the Pan American style wing for its pilot uniform.
Area, Aerovias Ecuatoriana, C. A. had an interesting connection with Pan American besides sharing the design of the cap badge. Area operated two Boeing 307 Stratoliners which had originally been operated by Pan American World Airways. An interesting “factoid” if ever there was one.
I hope you enjoy the images.
Aero Peru PL PLI 1973 – 1999 Empressa de Transporte Aereo del Peru S.A.
Aerolineas Argentinas AR ARG 1949 – present
Aerolineas Argentinas AR ARG 1949 – present
APSA 1956 – 1971 Aerolineas Peruanas S.A.
AREA 1951 – 1954 Aerovias Ecuatorianas, C.A.
AVENSA 1943 – 2002 Aerovias Venezolanas, S.A.
AVIANCA 1919 – present Aerovias del Continente Americano, S.A.
CAUSA 1936 – 1967 Compania Aeronautica Uraguaya, S.A.
Cruziero do Sul SC CRZ 1943 – 1975 Servicos Aereos Cruziero do Sul, Ltda.
This new series of articles covers the development over the years of airliner safety cards and will span almost a century. Safety cards include all those pamphlets, cards and other paper material that an airline makes available on aircraft to inform passengers about safety features available to them. This ranges from do’s and dont’s for each flight, like donning the safety belt and switching off electronics, to equipment and procedures only to be used in an emergency such as an evacuation.
The first six articles chronologically review the development of safety cards whilst the next six (or so) deal with different themes. Currently, I am thinking about the following themes, but if readers have other suggestions, I am happy to adapt: appearance/artwork/contents catalog/efficacy/makers/ special user groups/spin-off cards/unique aircraft.
The history of safety cards parallels that of cabin safety. Its continuous changes are driven by technological improvements, accident lessons, associated regulatory developments and, overarching, the increasing social recognition of safety. In each article, I will sketch the evolution of cabin safety as background to the development of the cards.
1924 – 1934, EUROPE
Not long after passengers were first carried by airplanes, pamphlets addressing passenger safety features appeared. But what were those features? As compared to today’s, they were primitive and largely borrowed from the marine world. Fire extinguishers, first-aid kits and flare pistols were installed in airplanes because they were on ships and considered a token necessity. For overwater flights, life vests were added. Unique to airplanes were safety belts, but these, particularly in America, initially were only installed to prevent persons falling out of open cockpits and not necessarily to restrain them in case of heavy impacts. Emergency exits were prescribed in the very first of airplane design regulations, but this was limited to how many were needed: initially only two, and that included the passenger entrance door. Only later, the nascent regulations got more specific as to how large they needed to be, the ease of operation, marking, lighting, etc.
Although forerunners of today’s safety cards, early passenger safety pamphlets barely meet the definition of a safety card. Imperial Airways, the predecessor of BOAC and thus British Airways, issued them around 1930. I show two examples. The first, coded IA/F/30, so presumably from 1930, explains ‘the normal movements of an Aeroplane in flight,’ ‘how to travel with the greatest comfort’ and ‘the precautions which are taken against and the action to be taken in an emergency.’ In the latter category fall a no-smoking rule, a means of communication with the pilot (‘through the aperture in the front of the cabin’) and instructions how to wear the ‘lifebelt.’ For traveling with comfort, the pamphlet recommends passengers ‘to place cotton wool in their ears to deaden the noise caused by the engines’. Windows could be opened or shut as desired, it further says, without explaining why this was needed at times. Contemporary reports suggest it was to let in fresh air and to remove the stench created by passengers suffering from airsickness and perhaps using the cuspidors that the pamphlet says are provided.
The 1930 sample, reproduced below, has two penciled annotations: ‘The channel looks rough’ and ‘I think Lindberg was a wonder, don’t you?’ For those passengers not trained in sign language, writing on the pamphlet may well have been the only way to communicate during flight, as the engine noise made voices inaudible.
Imperial Airways – probably 1930
A 1931 edition of the Imperial pamphlet adds information about emergency exits (‘provided in the roof of the cabins,’ ‘clearly marked’). It is well possible that this pamphlet was not handed out on board but rather already available at sales offices as it also includes information on how to book, dress and obtain foreign money. Note the chauvinist message on the last page: ‘Imperial aircraft and engines are of British design and manufacture and are flown by British pilots.’
Imperial Airways – 1931
KLM, the Dutch flag airline that was the first in the world to celebrate its centennial (in 2019), in its pioneer years issued ‘travelers suggestions.’ I reproduce a German version, coded ’4-34 7500,’ presumably issued in April 1934 in a stock of 7500. Like the Imperial Airways sample, it starts with an explanation of how an aeroplane takes off, how high it flies (typically 400 meters, about 1,300 ft) and that engine power is reduced for landing. It mentions that windows can be opened but warns not to throw anything out. Airsickness, it continues in a propagandistic stance, is predominantly imaginary and can be prevented by ‘freeing oneself from nervous thoughts,’ using a map to follow the airplane’s track or reading a book or magazine. The life vest is explained but, unlike Imperial Airways, only by using text, not graphics. It mentions the emergency exit in the roof as an alternative to the entrance door. The door between cabin and cockpit can be used to communicate with the pilot in case of an emergency. Like with Imperial Airways, this was through a hole in the door. A feature that will amaze today’s passengers is that wires (‘Drahtberichte’) could be sent and received by passengers via the radiotelegraphist. This service was introduced in June 1933, so still new when this leaflet was produced.
KLM 1934
The airplane pictured looks like the 3-engined Fokker F.VII/3m, a type already in use, albeit with a single engine, since 1924. The fuselage was made of a steel tubular framework covered with linen. The wings were of wood as was the interior furnishing.
There are indications that KLM issued similar instructions in its home language (Dutch) much earlier than 1934, possibly even as early as 1924. In 1969, at the occasion of their half-century existence, KLM published a celebration book1. In it is a small reproduction of a concise pamphlet, ranked as being from 1924, that sums up, in Dutch, the safety essentials of the day:
Smoking is dangerous, so not allowed
Do not throw anything out the window as that may cause fatal accidents
To contact the pilot in case of an emergency, hand a note through the door
Passengers are requested to use safety belts for take-off off and landing
Do not open the door until the engine has stopped
Leave via emergency exit when door is blocked
It is dangerous to touch the emergency exit during flight
It is not known whether this leaflet was permanently onboard or handed out to passengers before flight. I am not aware of any other contemporary safety pamphlets, but it may well be that other airlines issued them as well, particularly in Europe, where the advent of regular passenger air transport preceded that in America by almost a decade.
1 Vlucht KL-50, Leonard de Vries, 1969
1935, OXYGEN
In 1934, KLM replaced on the main routes the Fokkers with the aluminum, higher performance Douglas DC-2. This type was able to climb well higher and thus cross the Alps on the route to Italy. And so it did, flying at altitudes of up to 5,000 meters (about 16,400 feet). It was equipped with neither a pressurized cabin nor supplemental oxygen.
One day in July, 1935, KLM’s DC-2 Gaai (Jay), originating from Milan-Taliedo on its way to Frankfurt, flew at 5,000 metres when it went into trouble, got trapped in a valley in the southern Alps and crashed.
It’s possible a contributing factor was the pilot suffering from lack of oxygen, though the accident report does not mention this. KLM stopped flying that route until it had installed supplemental oxygen provisions for both crew and passengers. By that time it employed stewardesses, whose tasks included handing out a leaflet to passengers when to use oxygen. It does not explain how to use oxygen. I assume that the how was explained at the time of boarding. The leaflet is in five languages (Dutch, German, Italian, English, French) and reproduced adjacently2. It may be the first subject-specific passenger safety pamphlet.
Worldwide, very few routes were being operated at the time with supplemental oxygen. Panagra’s trans-Andean route was probably the single exception before KLM introduced it. In the USA, the Rocky Mountains were negotiated without it. In those days the effects of oxygen at altitude were not well understood. Only towards the end of the decade, Ross McFarland and others published their scientific research, which led to the introduction of oxygen rules for US airlines in 19413. These only prescribed oxygen provisions for crew. Oxygen regulations for passengers came much later, as we will see in the next article.
2 source: Schiphol uitstappen!, Hilda Bongertman, 1935 3 CAB, Federal Register February 6, 1941
1943, MEMPHIS
The earliest mention of a US airline passenger safety pamphlet that I came across is in the 4 October 1943 edition of Aviation Week. It announces that Chicago and Southern Air Lines (which merged 10 years later with Delta) ponders about it, following a suggestion from a newspaper.
Based on that article, and searching for what likely triggered it, here is my version of the sequence of events.
1. In July 1943, an American DC-3 on its way from Louisville, KY to Memphis, TN via Nashville, TN, crashed in the dark near Trammel, KY. Of 20 occupants, only two survived. From their testimony, it appeared that the crash was survivable in the cabin, as opposed to the cockpit. The stewardess apparently had trouble opening the entrance door from the inside. She and most of the passengers were later found dead near that door. The culprit, it was determined, was a safety catch that had to be released before the door could be opened, although the door itself may have been distorted by the impact and therefore did not open. Only one passenger tried to open emergency exits (only the third attempt was successful) and survived. He stated that earlier in flight, he had explained the exit handle to another passenger, who was apparently unaware that he sat next to an emergency exit. That passenger did not survive. The other survivor could crawl out of the airplane via a hole in the front.
2. Late in October, the Civil Aeronautics Board (CAB, forerunner of the FAA) issued a rule that exits be marked as such and illuminated4. Such a rule did not exist at the time. In addition, it proposed a rule to ensure that exits could be opened by the operation of one handle only5.
3. Somewhat earlier, a Memphis newspaper ran an editorial ‘pointing out that passengers are not aware of the auxiliary exits and are unfamiliar with their operation.‘
4. Memphis-based Chicago and Southern Airlines picked this up and, according to the October 4 article, proposed exit marking and lighting improvements and ‘make further effort to tell passengers how to use them in event of emergency.’ The latter would include a pamphlet in the seat pocket.
I do not know whether Chicago and Southern actually did make such a pamphlet. Perhaps a reader knows? But if they did, it might well have been the first safety card by a US airline.
4CAB, Amendment 61-13, published in the Federal Register on October 28, 1943 5 CAB, Draft Release no. 43, issued November 8, 1943
1944, RAF
Toward the latter years of World War II, the British Royal Air Force had set up air transport services to ferry staff, mostly pilots, across the North Atlantic as well as to other destinations where they were needed for the war.
Equipment included the Dakota (the name that the British gave to the Douglas C-47) and the Consolidated Liberator. As most of these services went over water, the risk of a ditching was high. The RAF provided safety pamphlets to instruct passengers about the ditching and dinghy drill.
I reproduce leaflets for both types in full. The Dakota one is fairly large (36 * 72 cm/14.2 * 38.4 inch, unfolded), the Liberator’s is smaller (25 * 50 cm/ 10 * 20 inch, unfolded). Both show similar artwork, but the Dakota’s was made by ‘F.&C. LTD’ whereas the Liberator’s says ‘W.R.R. & Sons Ltd.’, so were made by different companies. Perhaps the artwork style was en vogue in those days. The codes on both pamphlets include the number 51, but I do not think that refers to the year they were made. Based on internet research about when there was a peak in military air transport using Dakotas and particularly Liberators, I conclude they stem from around 1944.
Both pamphlets have a lot of graphics, with text supporting it, rather than the opposite. The texts are identical, save for airplane type specific elements, so will have been specified by the Air Ministry that ordered the pamphlets. Both show the aircraft cabin with passengers. In the Liberator there are 18 males in a 2 abreast forward seating layout. The Dakota leaflet is less precise in number and has a mix of male and female passengers in a 2 abreast ‘armchair type’ forward facing seating layout, but it also shows the sideward facing ‘metal bucket’ seating.
The leaflets prescribe the ditching drill in quite some detail and in several steps. On the preparatory pages, the safety belt and the impact posture are shown, plus the flotation devices: the dinghy (life raft) and the individual life vest. The Royal Air Force called the latter a Mae West, after the full-bosomed American actress. According to a letter that she sent to the service, she was quite pleased that her name was used for this purpose.
It is a pleasure to study these nice pamphlets and see them as precursors to the many civilian safety cards that would follow.
In the next article in this series, I will focus on the period 1946 – 1950s, in which ditchings continue to be seen as a serious menace the effects of which can be mitigated, at least to some extent, by means of safety cards.
