By Charles Dolan

It has been quite a while since I contributed to the Captain’s Log, so I decided to use our forced “time out” at the hands of Tropical Storm Nicole to dust the cobwebs off my collection and share some images. My last writings covered Central and South America, and I felt it was time to put the spotlight on Mexico. 

When I worked at Baltimore Airport (BWI) from 1986 to 2002,, Mexicana operated regular services using Boeing 727s and, at peak times, DC-10 aircraft. Compania Mexicana de Aviacion, S.A. de C.V. had a long history going back to 1921. As I recall, their service was pretty reliable, and the passengers seemed satisfied.

 Winter sun seekers and college (and some high school) spring breakers often flew on Mexican non-scheduled or charter carriers. Some were good, some less so, but we worked them all, and the merry-makers went south to tan and came home to resume their studies.  One airline that sticks in my mind was AeroCancun, which had modern equipment and a set of insignia that I still covet for my collection. Their Jefe de Pilotos assured me that he would bring me a set on his next trip,  but even though we met several times after that, the silver, white and turquoise wings and cap badge never materialized.

 Sad tale over, here are those insignia that I did manage to obtain over the years. Certainly, CMA / Mexicana and later Aviacsa, LaTur, Aeromar Allegro and TEASA passed through BWI, most aquisitions were the result of letters addressed to the main bases of the airlines featured or purchases on eBay.

Enjoy our quick trip south of the border.

Mexican Carrier Insignias

AEROMEXICO – Aeronaves de Mexico/Aerovias de Mexico (AM / AMX)

1934-present. Adopted name AEROMEXICO in 1972. Two versions are shown below.

AEROMAR – Transportes Aeromar S.A. de C.V. (VW / TAO)

1987 – present.

Allegro – LineasAereas Allegro (LL / GRO)

1992 – 2004.

AVIACSA – Consorcio Aviaxsa S.A. de C.V. (GA / CHP)

1990 – 2011.

MEXICANA – Compania Mexicana de Aviacion, S.A. de C.V. – Mexicana de Aviacion (MX / MXA)

1921 – 2010. Three styles of insignia are shown below.

Interjet – ABC Aerolineas, S.A. de C.V., (4O / AIJ)

2005 – 2020.

LaTur – Lineas Aereas LaTur (WC / LUR)

1998 – 1992. Absorbed by TAESA

TAESA – Transportes Aereos Ejecutivos S.A. (GD / TEJ)

1988 – 2000.

Volaris – Concesionaria Vuela Compania de Aviacion S.A.P.I. de C.V. ( Y4 / VOI)

2005 – present.

By Fons Schaefers

In 1977 I had the rare opportunity to fly on a flying boat reminiscent of times gone by. The boat was a 1943-built Short Sandringham named Southern Cross and registered as VP-LVE. It was operated by Antilles Air Boats. Both that year and the year before, it came all the way from St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands in the Caribbean to England to do some pleasure flights.

Preparations

When I received the “week ending 27 August 1977” edition of Flight International, this article caught my attention:

In the classified advertisement section of that same issue there was more information:

Wow. How nice it would be to enjoy such a pleasure flight! Er, why not try it? I called a spotting mate to see if he would like to join me. The answer was yes, very much. My issue of Flight had arrived on Saturday, August 27. The flights would start on Thursday, September 1, so I knew I had to be quick. I lived in the Netherlands, not England, so this meant I had some organizing to do.

On Tuesday, I called the Dorset number, or rather, I had a post office do that for me. It was the first time I made an international call, and, how could I know what the Blandford Dorset telephone code was? (The internet did not exist at the time, let alone Google.) The guy on the phone – I think he worked for, or even was, M.M. Aviation – said he had seats available for Monday afternoon, September 5, around 2:00 pm and we should report in Calshot on time. With that confirmation in the pocket, we arranged train tickets from Amsterdam to Southampton.

Late on Sunday, September 4, I left home, joined my pal and rode the train to Hoek van Holland to catch the night ferry from Hoek to Harwich. In London, we transferred from Liverpool Street station to Waterloo station by Tube (metro). In Southampton, we took a bus through the New Forest to Calshot village, arriving about 1:00 pm. There, we saw the Sandringham in the distance, between trees, floating in the water between the English coast and the Isle of Wight.

Next, we walked over to Calshot pier, the former RAF flying boat base, but found it deserted. However, soon after, a bus appeared full of air enthusiasts and the MM representative. Unbeknownst to us, they had assembled at a meeting point in Southampton. The representative was happy to see us, fearing we had not made it.

The airplane had arrived from Ireland on Friday around 17:30 pm. There were no flights over the weekend. Our flight was the first one on Monday afternoon. In the morning, there had been a flight for the press and other invitees. During that week, there were 17 flights in total, the last of which was on Friday, September 9. (On Tuesday, September 6, flights had to be cancelled because of low clouds.) Although Antilles Air Boats (AAB) was the operator, the boat was leased by Aer Arann, a small Irish airline normally flying between Galway, Ireland, and the three offshore Arann Islands. The ticket – or was it the boarding pass – mentioned “M. M. Aviation in conjunction with Antilles Air Boats” with no mention of Aer Arann. I assume their role was limited to some aeropolitical aspects while M.M. Aviation took care of local arrangements, sales and promotion. The fare was ₤19.50. According to the Bank of England, in 2024 this equals ₤112, or $143. Not only was this very cheap for a one-hour sightseeing flight, but when considering its unique and historical nature, it was a true bargain.

The Boat

A launch took us to the flying boat, which was moored quite a distance away. Calshot pier borders on Southampton Water, but for environmental reasons no permission had been obtained to use that. Rather, a stretch of water on the Solent abeam the Beaulieu river mouth (off Lepe) had been assigned.

We approached the boat from the rear and took our first pictures.

Next, we moored at the entrance left forward. Negotiating two steps down, we entered a vestibule area with access to the bow area, left, and the passenger compartments on the right. While this area was unfurnished, exposing the metal skin of the boat, the cabins were furnished with wood, reminding us that this airplane was built before plastics had invaded aircraft interiors. The seating arrangements were very unlike the modern jet tubes with its seats lined up as a military regiment. The main deck had four compartments, each seating six or eight in a club layout, for a total of 30.

Between the third and fourth compartment, there was a steep set of stairs, 59 cm (23 inches) wide, leading to the upper deck. At its top, to the left (so, forward in the direction of flight) was the galley. To the right there was another passenger compartment, seating 14.

The cabin diagram below, although taken from the AAB manual, was drawn by Ansett in 1965 for VH-BRC as the boat was then known. It shows the two decks, the five passenger compartments, the galley and the flight deck. Note the gender-specific toilets opposite the entrance door. Today, the boat is preserved in Southampton’s Solent Sky Museum. When I inspected the boat in December 2024, three more aft-facing seats were present in cabin B. It is likely that they were there in 1977 as well. I assume Ansett also had them, but did not show them as they were for the crew and not to be booked. In cabin D, there was one fewer forward-facing seat than Ansett showed.

Seating was open, but after 47+ years, we do not remember where we sat! The cabin and seat numbers were not marked in the boat.

During the cruise flight, we could freely roam around the two decks.

The cockpit, on the upper deck, was not accessible from the galley as the wing was in the way, although small items such as meals could be handed through. It could only be reached via a vertical set of steps in the vestibule area.

Taking turns, we were all allowed to climb the steps and take cockpit pictures in-flight. While waiting, I took a picture straight up. It shows the ceiling of the flight deck, the left arm of the co-pilot and a communications cord that is also visible in the next photograph, taken upstairs.

The captain was the famous Charles F. Blair Jr., founder and president of Antilles Air Boats and the third husband of the even more famous movie actress Maureen O’Hara.

Charles Blair was sadly to die one year later in an accident with a Grumman Goose. On the right sat Ronald Gillies, who had already flown the same airplane when it was still VH-BRC. Noel Hollë was the flight engineer and James C. (Jim) Flanagan, also a flight engineer, was the mooring man, or bow officer. Flanagan had greeted us from his prominent position in the bow when we arrived in the launch. At 29, he was by far the youngest member of the crew. He had only arrived the day before, and this was his first visit to the UK. According to documentation that was sent a few weeks later, Noreen Gillies, Ron’s wife, was the flight hostess. However, Maureen O’Hara was also on board, selling merchandise such as Sandringham T-shirts to the passengers after each flight. 

The flight deck itself was roomy, with seats not only for the two pilots but also for a flight engineer. Unlike in landplanes, his position was at the far end of the cockpit, facing backward.

In 2024, and very likely in 1977 as well, three more seats were present that are not shown in Ansett’s diagram. A navigator’s station, a jumpseat and a seat, according to a museum volunteer, that had been installed for Maureen O’Hara.

I do not remember if any safety briefing was given, but I doubt it. It is also unlikely there were safety cards for each passenger. There must have been cards posted in the compartments, as they were still there in 2024. They were for VH-BRC; AAB probably never made their own. For cabin E, the card was fixed above the stairs, not well in sight. In cabin D, it lacked altogether. Perhaps that one had been removed for or by an acquisitive collector?

The card shows the entrance door, on the left, a smaller hatch at the far right, plus an upper hatch, all as emergency exits. Both hatches were only accessible via the lower and upper cargo compartments, respectively, which, themselves, were accessible from the cabins. The card adds that “all windows may be used as exits.” On the lower frame of each cabin window was a sign saying:

Emergency exit – to eject window give a sharp blow towards one edge of window with foot or hand.

Above the portals between the compartments there were fasten seat belt – no smoking signs, very elongated as it used text, not symbols.

The Flight

Tension mounted as the door was closed, the launch left and the engines started. Charles Blair steered the boat into the wind and started the take-off. After a long run, with water splashing against the aft windows, it gently lifted off. The rate of climb was very low. We cruised at an altitude of not more than 500 feet (150 meters). I have no recollection of the route, but with its very modest cruising speed of about 120 knots (220 km/h), we possibly could have reached as far as Weymouth before returning. Or did we go to Bournemouth and then circle the Isle of Wight, as Trevor Bartlett reported was the case on his 6:51 pm flight that day? (see https://abpic.co.uk/pictures/view/1276125). Perhaps a “boomer” from south England or the Isle of Wight will recognize the scenery in these pictures.

After about one hour, we came back in for the landing on the Solent. Suddenly, water splashed against the windows again. Upon mooring, we saw a boat waiting with the next group of enthusiasts and an empty boat waiting to pick us up.

Before returning to Calshot, we floated at a safe distance for taking pictures of Southern Cross taxiing and taking off on its next flight.

The press release for the September flights had announced that “Flying in Southern Cross recaptures something of the space and grace (and indeed the pace) of a near-forgotten era of civil aviation.” After 47 years, these words have only gained in significance.

Museum Piece

Southern Cross returned to Calshot in 1981. It did not do pleasure flights anymore, but was stored there. Later, it was taxied on its two inner engines across Southampton Water to Lee-on-Solent before being pontooned to Southampton. Since 1984, it has been by far the largest artifact in the local Solent Sky Museum. It has been repainted in the colours of Ansett Airlines, displaying the registration VH-BRC and bearing the name Beachcomber. While it had an impressive active life of almost 40 years, its passive, museum life has now surpassed that in years.

Registration mark

Why did the boat have that odd registration mark – VP-LVE? AAB was based in the U.S. Virgin Islands (USVI), which follows U.S. aviation regulations. When Blair collected the boat in 1974 in Australia, he registered it as N158C. But the U.S. authorities would not allow him to use the N register for sustained operations with passengers. Across from the USVI, at a stone’s throw from St. John, was the island of Tortola, a regular AAB destination. This belonged to the British Virgin Islands (BVI). At the time, it issued registration marks in the VP-LVx range. Next in line was VP-LVE, which the BVI governor was happy to grant. The Director of Civil Aviation for BVI (as well as other British leeward and windward islands) well recognised the Sandringham’s certification, so that VP-LVE could be issued a Certificate of Airworthiness and could fly us, passengers.

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Sources

To fill the gaps in my memory and for additional information, I consulted:

• Rob Hemelrijk, who had joined me that day;
• Letter by Dersot Doran, dated 20 September 1977
• Fabulous Flying Boats, by Leslie Dawson, 2013
• antillesairboats.com

All black and-white photos, and the three exterior colour photos, were taken in 1977. Except for these three, all photos by the author.

Fons Schaefers: [email protected], January 2025

By Marvin G. Goldman

In 1925, the owner of Coca-Cola, Asa Candler, leased to the City of Atlanta his abandoned auto racetrack site for development into an airfield named Candler Field.

The first airlines to serve Atlanta were Florida Airways which operated from 1926 to 1927; St. Tammany Gulf Coast Airways, 1927, which became a division of Southern Air Transport System in 1929 and in turn part of American Airways in 1930; Pitcairn Aviation which started in 1927, was renamed Eastern Air Transport in 1930 and then became part of Eastern Air Lines in 1934; and Delta Air Service (later named Delta Air Lines) in 1930. During the 1930s, both Delta and Eastern expanded their routes into and out of Candler Field and became the main airlines serving Atlanta at the time. 

In 1929, the City of Atlanta purchased the airfield from Asa Candler on favorable terms, and though the airport was officially renamed Atlanta Municipal Airport in 1942, it continued to be popularly referred to as Candler Field. 

Here is my earliest postcard of Candler Field showing an airline:

In March 1939, Candler Field built its first control tower in a six-story building with administrative facilities. The control tower can be seen in this next card:

In 1940, Delta Air Lines acquired four DC-2s, but these were retained only until the end of that year, being replaced by DC-3s.

During World War II, Candler Field also became a U.S. air base, and it doubled in size. In 1941, Delta moved its headquarters from Monroe, Louisiana, to Atlanta, and for decades it has been the dominant airline there. 

Passenger numbers continued to grow, and in 1948 the airport closed its old terminal building and moved operations into a Quonset hut war-surplus “temporary” terminal while it developed plans to build a larger permanent terminal. That year saw more than 1 million passengers pass through Atlanta airport. 

The “temporary” terminal proved to be not so temporary. It served until May 1961, when a new terminal designed to accommodate the jet age finally opened. Here are three postcards from the “temporary” terminal era (1948-1961) at Atlanta Municipal Airport.

On May 3, 1961, Atlanta Municipal Airport finally opened its new Jet-Age terminal, publicizing it as the largest single terminal in the U.S. The terminal was designed to accommodate 6 million passengers a year, but in its first year, 9.5 million passengers utilized it! 

Long-time Mayor William B. Hartsfield, the driving force behind the development of Atlanta Airport as a major airline hub, passed away on February 22, 1971, and on February 28, 1971, the airport name was changed to William B. Hartsfield Atlanta Airport. On July 1, 1971, following the launch by Eastern Air Lines of the airport’s first international service (to Mexico and Montego Bay),  the airport was again renamed to William B. Hartsfield Atlanta International Airport. 

On September 21, 1980, Hartsfield Atlanta International Airport opened the Midfield Terminal. It was the world’s largest air passenger terminal complex at the time, designed to accommodate up to 55 million passengers each year. It replaced in stages the old terminal and its concourses A through F.

In October 2003, to honor former Atlanta Mayor Maynard Jackson, the Airport was again renamed, this time as Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. 

Since 1998, Atlanta Airport has been the world’s busiest passenger airport. It serves on average 2,700 departures and arrivals daily by airlines operating nonstop to more than 150 U.S. destinations and over 70 international cities in 50 countries. In 2024, Atlanta airport handled 108.1 million passengers (an average of about 295,000 a day), the second-highest year in its history. This represents nearly a full recovery from the general decline in passenger traffic due to the COVID-19 pandemic, which began in 2020 and followed the airport’s record 110 million passengers in 2019. 

Delta is by far the dominant airline in Atlanta, with about 73% of the passenger traffic. Southwest is second with 8%, followed by Spirit, Frontier, Endeavor Air (operating as Delta Connection),  American and United. 

Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport is now engaged in a major 20-year capital improvement program, which includes modernizing its domestic terminal, expanding concourses and cargo operations, replacing parking facilities, and eventually developing a hotel and mixed-use facilities. 

We close this Atlanta postcard article with a beautiful card showing the very aircraft that now resides in full splendor at the Delta Flight Museum, the site of Airliners International 2025 ATL, June 25-28, 2025, adjacent to Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport.

Notes: The originals of all postcards shown are in color and from the author’s collection. All are in standard or continental size. I estimate their rarity as Uncommon: The Candler Field card with an  Eastern DC-2; the ‘Temporary’ terminal card with a Delta DC-3 in the center; the Piedmont Airlines card; and the card showing Delta aircraft at the rotundas and gates added in 1968. The rest of the postcards are fairly common. This article is an update and revision of an earlier one by the author on Atlanta airport postcards published in the Spring 2015 issue of The Captain’s Log, vol. 39, no. 4. 

Airliners International 2025 ATL Postcard Exhibits by Collectors: The AI 2025 show at the Delta  Flight Museum, Atlanta airport, will again feature a display of airline and airport postcard exhibits.  Whether you’re an experienced collector or a beginner, please consider submitting an exhibit. It’s a lot of fun, and the postcard displays stimulate greater interest in collecting airline and airport postcards. This year’s Postcard Exhibit Guidelines can be found at airlinersinternational.org under the tab Contest Information (even though it’s an exhibit, not a contest). I look forward to seeing you at Airliners International 2025, Atlanta, June 25-28. 

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References: 

www.sunshineskies.com/atlanta.html. This is a great website with hundreds of pictures, many postcard views, and extensive information on the history of Atlanta airport. 

www.atl.com. Official site of Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport 

www.deltamuseum.org. Official site of The Delta Flight Museum, Atlanta airport, where  Airliners International 2025 will be held June 25-28, 2025. 

golldiecat.tripod.com/atl.html. History of Hartsfield Atlanta International Airport from 1961 to 1980, illustrated with postcard views. 

Cearley, Jr., George W., Atlanta (1991) and The Delta Family History (1985), each self-published. 

Davies, R.E.G., Delta: An Airline and Its Aircraft. Paladwr Press (1990). 

www.wahsonline.com. Official site of the World Airline Historical Society.

Until next time, Happy Collecting. Marvin.

By Ron Suttell

Cards like these are commonly referred to in the collecting hobby as “pilot trading cards” due to their intended use for flight crews to hand them out to passengers, with a signature line on the back. These unique cards were produced over the years by Alaska’s former ad agency, Cohen-Dwyer Advertising, beginning with three sepia-tone cards in 1996. The first issued cards featured three different vintage Alaska Airlines aircraft (Bellanca Skyrocket, Douglas DC-3 and Boeing 727-90C) and were intended as promotional giveaways to celebrate Alaska’s upcoming 65^th anniversary.

In the ensuing years, full-color cards were produced in the late 1990s with stylized wings logo “Alaska’s World” (an ad campaign during that era) in the upper left corner of the card. Only two Alaska cards were issued with this logo, a Boeing 737-400 and McDonnell Douglas MD-80.

Around the same time, subsidiary carrier Horizon issued a card of its Dash 8Q-200 (de Havilland DHC-8-200 turbo-prop) with a similar card format.  This particular card is considered the rarest one.

Alaska and Horizon both continued with this format-gold frame with a polished gold inset for a few more cards but without the “Alaska’s World” wings logo. Among them are two different cards of the Boeing 737-900 with the gold seal “Official Launch Carrier” in the lower right corner. The first of these (below left) was issued in very limited quantities and only distributed to attendees at the May 16, 2001 Boeing delivery roll-out ceremony.  It is also very rare.

Beginning in 2002, Alaska began issuing these cards in a different format with full-color layout on the card front, initially with artist images of its many different special schemes, and later with actual inflight photographs or ground views of each different aircraft type in the fleet. At the time, this was especially important to promote the company’s strong partnership with Disneyland Resort since many of its planes sported Disney schemes.

Unfortunately for the meticulous trading card collector, this is where it starts to get a bit complicated for those desiring to have the complete set. Some of the Disney cards began to show up with variations, not readily caught at first, but seen by the astute eye of true hobbyists. For example, the card with the Boeing 737-400 Magic of Disneyland (better known as the Tinkerbell scheme) was issued with four different variations-even different backs on two of them, while the Alaska Statehood cards have blue/white title variations. This is attributed to the cards being reissued in different years, or in some cases just to produce a better image.

Similarly, the card with Spirit of Make-a-Wish scheme has two different backs of the same card.

Other variations appear on the Boeing 737-400 Salmon Thirty Salmon cards and the 75^th anniversary scheme 737-800 Starliner which includes two different cards. One of the most rarely seen variants of this card collection, issued in 2009, is below on the right.

The 737-400 alaskaair.com Dot Com scheme has an early gold frame card with the same image of the plane as appears later on an updated card in 2005.

Another interesting variant was a card honoring famous Olympic athlete Apolo Ohno, who became a spokesperson for Alaska Airlines for a brief time. One of its planes, a Boeing 737-800 (N596AS), was decorated with a “Follow Apolo” motif in 2010.

The last cards to be issued (see below) were in 2013, and are less common today.

From a purely technical standpoint, the Alaska Airlines cards are in a uniquely separate category from actual hobby collector cards due to their larger size (3-1/4” x 4-1/4” vs. standard baseball card size of 2-1/2” x 3-1/2”) and also of thinner card stock, but are nevertheless highly collectible. Unfortunately, the cards were never numbered, nor is their print run known, making it difficult to appraise their true value other than what may appear on eBay and other auction sites. By comparison, several other airlines have produced more traditional “baseball card size” issues (Delta, FedEx, Hawaiian, Northwest, United, and recently Frontier of wildlife on the tails of their planes), but only Delta has seen fit to number their cards consecutively so their cards are very popular with the hobbyists-especially for several early issue, low production cards that are difficult to find. Alaska did issue a set of more traditionally-sized collector cards in 1997 to celebrate its 65^th anniversary. This 25-card boxed set of colorful cards includes past and present planes in Alaska’s history and comes in both standard blue titles as well as special limited edition gold embossed versions.

From the number of cards in my personal collection, with known variants and re-issued, updated versions of the same aircraft type, I calculate that there are 46 total different cards in Alaska’s odd-size collection as listed below:

• Bellanca “Skyrocket”
• Boeing 727-90C “Golden Nugget Jet”
• Boeing 737-400 “Alaska’s World”
• Boeing 737-400 “Combi”
• Boeing 737-400 “Magic of Disneyland” Tinkerbell (4)
• Boeing 737-400 “Salmon Thirty Salmon” (3)
• Boeing 737-400 “Spirit of Alaska Statehood” (2)
• Boeing 737-400 “Spirit of Disneyland” (2)
• Boeing 737-400 “Spirit of Make-a-Wish” (2)
• Boeing 737-400 alaskaair.com “Dot Com” (3)
• Boeing 737-400 Freighter
• Boeing 737-400 standard livery
• Boeing 737-700 Portland “Timbers Jet”
• Boeing 737-700 standard livery (2)
• Boeing 737-800 “Follow Apolo” (2)
• Boeing 737-800 “Spirit of Seattle”
• Boeing 737-800 “Starliner 75” (2)
• Boeing 737-800 alaskaair.com “Dot Com”
• Boeing 737-800 ETOPS “Adventure of Disneyland Resort” Cars movie characters (2)
• Boeing 737-800 ETOPS “Salmon Thirty Salmon II” 
• Boeing 737-800 ETOPS “Spirit of the Islands”
• Boeing 737-800 ETOPS Hawaiian lei on tail
• Boeing 737-800 standard livery
• Boeing 737-900 “Spirit of Disneyland II”
• Boeing 737-900 standard livery (3)
• Boeing 737-900ER standard livery
• Bombardier Q400
• Douglas DC-3
• McDonnell Douglas MD-80
• McDonnell Douglas MD-80 “Alaska’s World”

There are also 8 total cards issued by Horizon Air:

• Bombardier CRJ-700 vertical card
• Bombardier Q200/Q400 vertical card
• Bombardier Q400 “Celebrating 25 Years”
• De Havilland DHC-8Q-200 Horizon Air wings logo
• De Havilland DHC-8Q-200 “Dash 8” (2)
• Fokker F28-4000 (2) 

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Ron Suttell, an airline historian specializing in Alaska Airlines, can be reached at [email protected].

By James P. (Jamie) Baldwin

Pan American World Airways has always been associated with the sea and things nautical.  Its aircraft were called “Clippers” and many of the Clipper names had references to the sea, particularly with the Boeing 747 aircraft, which were given names such as Pride of the Sea, Champion of the Seas, Spark of the Ocean, Belle of the Sea, Crest of the Wave and Sovereign of the Seas, to name a few.

How Pan American became the “Nautical Airline” is centered on Pan American’s founder, Juan Trippe who dreamed of this idea from the beginning of his venture in establishing an airline. How Pan American was formed is a story of wheeling and dealing, mergers and acquisitions and financial and political maneuvering that is well documented in the Pan American literature, including Robert Daley’s An American Saga – Juan Trippe and His Pan Am Empire (hereinafter “Daley”), Marylin Bender and Selig Altschul’s The Chosen Instrument (hereinafter “Bender and Altschul”) and R.E.G. Davies’ Pan Am, An Airline and Its Aircraft (hereinafter “Davies”).

Suffice it to say, however, it is useful to have a little background.  In the beginning, there were four interested groups, as identified by Davies. The first group, the Montgomery Group, formed Pan American Airways, Inc. (PAA).  It was founded on 14 March 1927 by Air Force Majors “Hap” Arnold, Carl Spaatz, and John H. Jouett, later joined by John K. Montgomery and Richard B. Bevier, as a counterbalance to German-owned carrier “SCADTA” (Colombo-German Aerial Transport Co) that had been operating in Colombia since 1920.

SCADTA was viewed as a possible German aerial threat to the Panama Canal.  Eventually, Montgomery petitioned the US government to call for bids on a US airmail contract between Key West and Havana (FAM 4) and won the contract.  However, PAA lacked any aircraft to perform the job and did not have landing rights in Cuba.  Under the terms of the contract, PAA had to be flying by 19 October 1927.

On 2 June 1927, Juan Trippe formed the Aviation Corporation of America (ACA) (the Trippe Group) with financially powerful and politically well-connected backing and raised $300,000.  On 1 July Reed Chambers and financier Richard Hoyt (the Chambers-Hoyt Group) formed Southeastern Airlines.

On 8 July Trippe formed Southern Airlines and on 11 October Southeastern was reincorporated as Atlantic, Gulf and Caribbean Airways.  Trippe then proposed a merger between these three groups and in doing so played a trump card:  He and John A. Hambleton, one of his backers, traveled to Cuba and persuaded the Cuban president to grant landing rights to the Aviation Corporation, making Montgomery’s mail contract useless as a bargaining chip.  After much wrangling between the groups, including a meeting on Hoyt’s yacht during which Assistant Postmaster General Irving Grover threatened that if there was no deal he would not be awarding any contract to anyone, the Aviation Corporation of the Americas was formed, operating as Pan American Airways, headed by Juan Trippe. Later the corporation’s name was changed to Pan American Airways.

The deadline of 19 October still loomed, however. A Fokker F-VII aircraft was selected for the operation but could not be used because Meacham’s Field in Key West was not completed and could not accommodate the aircraft. What transpired was an eleventh-hour miracle. Pan American’s representative in Miami learned that a Fairchild FC-2 monoplane was in Key West, sitting out a hurricane threat.  The aircraft was owned by West Indian Aerial Express (the Fairchild Group) and a deal was made to charter the aircraft.  The pilot was offered $145.50 to carry mail to Havana that had just arrived on the Florida East Coast-Atlantic Coast Line railroads.  The hurricane threat disappeared, and the trip was made.  The rest is history.

On 28 October 1927, the Fokker left Key West on Pan American’s inaugural international flight, carrying 772 lb. of mail. On 16 January 1928, the first passenger flight was completed on the same route. And on 28 October 1928, Pan American established its Miami base at Dinner Key.

The First Clipper

In 1931, Pan American acquired the Sikorsky S-40, the first aircraft to be designated “Clipper”. This designation came about as a result of Trippe’s fascination with ships and the sea.  As a child, he had traveled to Europe on Cunard Line ships and this fascination transcended to the idea that Pan American should be a kind of nautical airline.

Along these lines, a maritime culture emerged.  Andre Priester, who Trippe had previously hired as chief engineer, dressed the pilots as naval officers with gold wings pinned to their breast pockets. Gold stripes were on the jacket sleeves to show rank. The pilots also wore peaked hats with white covers and a gold strap. And, according to Daley, Priester “forbade [the pilots] to stuff or twist these caps into the dashing, high-peaked shapes so dear to most aviators’ hearts.” These naval trappings according to Bender and Altschul “served to set distance between the airline and aviation’s all too proximate history symbolized by the khaki breeches, leather puttees, jacket and helmet of the daredevil flyer. [Pan American’s] pilots were invested as engineers to whom flying was a scientific business rather than a thrilling escapade.” Pilots underwent a stringent and comprehensive training program and, according to former flying boat and retired captain Bill Nash, were required to have college degrees prior to hiring and to demonstrate proven proficiency prior to promotion in the flight deck. Nash started as a Fourth Officer before rising to Captain.

When the S-40 made its debut, it was the largest airplane built in the United States. Its maiden voyage on 19 November 1931 was from Miami to the Canal Zone carrying 32 passengers with Charles Lindbergh at the controls and Basil Rowe (formerly with the West Indian Aerial Express) as co-pilot.  Igor Sikorsky, whom Trippe had earlier brought on board to design an aircraft to Pan American’s own specifications (the predecessor to the S-40, the S-38) also had some time at the controls.

Trippe named the aircraft the American Clipper. Perhaps inspired by prints of American Clipper ships hanging in his home or reaching back to his Maryland ancestry from where these swift sailing ships originated in the shipyards of Baltimore, it was, according to Bender and Altschul “appropriate then, to call the first transport ship designed for international air commerce after those magnificent vessels.” Thereafter, all Pan American aircraft were to be designated Clippers.

The operation would be in keeping with maritime lore and custom. The pilot was called “captain” and the co-pilot “first officer”. The title “captain” implied master of the ship or chief executive of the flying boat. Speed was calculated in knots (nautical miles per hour), time in bells, and a crew’s tour of duty was a “watch”. In the cabin, according to Daley, “walls and ceilings would be finished in walnut painted in a dark stain, and the fifty passengers would sit in Queen Anne chairs upholstered in blue and orange. The carpet would be blue, and the windows equipped with rope blinds. As aboard any ship, life rings would hang from the walls of the lounge.” The stewards, according to Bender and Altschul, “were modeled in function and appearance after the personnel of luxury ocean liners. Their uniforms were black trousers and white waist-length jackets over white shirts and black neckties. Stewards distributed remedies for airsickness, served refreshments (and in the S-40, prepared hot meals in the galley of the aircraft), pointed out scenic attractions from the windows of the plane and assisted with the red tape of Customs and landing procedures.”

This nautical approach seemed to carry on through the entire existence of Pan American.  The flight deck – bridge – was always on the top deck, as on an ocean liner.  This was evident in the flying boats, including the Martin M-130, the China Clipper, the Boeing 314, the Boeing 377 Stratocruiser and the Boeing 747, with its flight deck on the upper deck of the aircraft.

The flight deck of the Boeing 314 had the appearance of the bridge of a merchant ship:

Below, the SS United States and the bridge of a large merchant ship (bottom):

A “nautical” ambiance was also prevalent at Clipper departures, particularly from Dinner Key in Miami during the early years and Pan American’s Worldport at New York’s John F. Kennedy International Airport in the later years. There was an atmosphere like the departure of an ocean liner, with festivity, sense of adventure, and anticipation of a voyage to a distant place. The setting at the Worldport, particularly with the evening departures to distant destinations, included passengers and well-wishers gathered at the gate in sight of the Clipper being readied for the long voyage ahead. There was a sense of drama; the type of drama that Juan Trippe probably envisaged for each Clipper departure. The romance of traveling to faraway places was part and parcel of the Pan American experience.

The nautical element was also featured in many of Pan American’s printed brochures and posters, as well as on the cover of an annual report.

However, as the years passed, the romance of the “nautical airline” began to wear out. Perhaps Pan American tried to preserve it with the Boeing 747, but times had changed.  The grand ocean liners were soon replaced by cruise ships where passengers were more interested in the on-board entertainment rather than the peaceful environment of the sea (although that can still be experienced on cargo ships). Airline passengers became more interested in getting from A to B at the lowest fare, rather than experiencing the ambiance of a flying ocean liner.  Airplanes became more like buses, apart from the premium cabins, rather than airships commanding the airways. And the bridge, both on many cruise ships and on the largest passenger aircraft in the world, would no longer be on the topmost deck. The sense of command of the airways and the sea has seemed to disappear, and the bridge, “formerly sacrosanct navigational preserves”, as eloquently described by John Maxtone-Graham in Liners to the Sun, is now simply a functionary in the process of getting passengers from A to B, or in the case of a cruise ship, from A to A via port visits.

In the picture below of an Emirates Airline A380, note that the flight deck is located between the main and upper decks. Compare the flight deck location on the Boeing 747 and other earlier aircraft pictured above. And, on the newer cruise liners, the bridge is not on the highest deck, as shown here on the Holland America Line’s MS Koningsdam, where it is located four decks below the top deck.

Perhaps Pan American the Nautical Airline was overcome by its own success.  One cannot, however, deny that the idea of a nautical airline was a necessary step in the process of shrinking the globe. Now, with today’s technology, it probably is no longer needed.  Happily, one tradition of the nautical airline continues: The Pilot-in-Command of an airliner is still the “Captain”.

An interesting anecdote:

Like the Boeing 377 Stratocruiser and the Boeing 747 was to Pan American, so is the A380 to Emirates Airline.

In an interview with Emirates CEO Sir Tim Clark, Andreas Spaeth noted that “probably no other airline boss since Pan Am patriarch Juan Trippe in the 1950s and 1960s, who helped shape the all-important Boeing 747, was as influential regarding what aircraft manufacturers were bringing to market than Sir Tim, a role he excels and revels in.”

Clark recalled how his parents “enjoyed the Pan Am Stratocruiser – the lounge downstairs, the dining room at the back…”

In another interview with Sam Chui, Clark explained his fascination with the double-decker airplane:

“I used to fly on the Pan-Am Boeing 377 Stratocruiser as a child; I was looking around saying, yes, you know they’ve got lounges, they’ve got a dining room downstairs etc. So in all the years, we’ve got the A380 to where that was.”

          In the Spaeth interview, he recalled one of his favorite all-time aviation memories, when he set eyes upon his first jumbo jet: “It was on January 22, 1970, when Pan Am brought the 747 to Heathrow for the first time. I was 20 years old and I managed to get access to the roof of a catering building with my girlfriend to watch it land. We were all stunned.”

Little did he know then that, ultimately, he himself would play an essential role in bringing an even bigger airliner to the world stage.

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Follow this link to read the author’s biography.

Follow this link to learn more about the author’s book, Pan American World Airways: Images of a Great Airline, Second Edition.

By Jim “Jet” Thompson

All Photos by the Author

I traveled to Geneseo, Illinois on Saturday, September 21, 2024, to represent the TWA Museum at the dedication of the TWA Captain Harold Neumann Mural in downtown Geneseo. 

This mural represents Captain Neumann’s flying career with biplanes and air show performances and his career as an air racer. Neumann flew “Ike & Mike,” twin racing planes, in the early 1930’s. He also flew “Mr. Mulligan” the passenger racing plane. All three aircraft were owned by Benny Howard, a former TAT pilot.

Captain Neumann’s career with TWA spanned from 1936 to 1966 and he flew many aircraft from the Douglas DC-1 to the Boeing 707. It’s possible he even flew the Ford Tri-Motor but, that’s not yet confirmed. 

He was hired in October 1936 when Transcontinental & Western Air brought five retired Ford Tri-Motors to fly cargo. However, that venture only lasted a few months as they lost a bunch of money doing that.  He then went on to fly the DC-2, DC-3, Boeing 307, all models of the Lockheed Constellation (“Connie”), and finally the Boeing 707. 

There is an interesting story behind one of the photos. Supposedly, Captain Neumann is standing beside the biplane on the lefthand side of the mural. It isn’t him. Actually, it is Jimmy Doolittle, one of his best friends! This wasn’t discovered until after the artist had painted the mural. Someone looked closely at the photo they used and found a note from Jimmy Doolittle on the back. The note was a wise-cracking remark about him “beating Neumann to something” and proof he (Doolittle) was there!

On a side note, another interesting fact for those who knew the late TWA Capt. Don Peters, he later owned the racing plane “Mike” after it had been retired from air racing.  Don purchased it as his first airplane. By chance, he came across it at the Plain City, Ohio airport. He and two other friends bought it before he went into the military. When he returned from his military service, he learned his two friends had sold it. Don and I came across the aircraft in 2019, in a hangar at the airport in Wadsworth, Ohio. It was hanging from the rafters, just the frame, along with “Ike!” The current owner plans on restoring at least one of them.

Back to Mr. Neumann. 

On one occasion, Captain Neumann made an emergency landing in a TWA L-049 Constellation. Just after departing Amarillo, Texas, and while circling back to the airport, he lost an engine.  As he made his approach, he had to fly UNDER a powerline and the number four engine’s props snagged the powerline causing him to land short of the runway into the mud. The passengers trudged through a muddy cornfield to get back to the terminal. 

Later, Captain Neumann would fly the inaugural TWA Constellation flight from Paris-Orly (ORY) to Chicago O’Hare (ORD) in 1955, officially making Chicago O’Hare an International Airport. He brought home a 3-foot-tall metal replica of the Eiffel Tower from the Mayor of Paris to Richard J. Daley, the Mayor of Chicago.

Two years later he flew the first TWA passengers over the North Pole in a Lockheed L-1649A Constellation on the London Heathrow-San Francisco-Los Angeles route, a total of 23 hours and 55 minutes block time.  

I wore a collection of lapel pins representing the aircraft Neumann flew for TWA. I would have included my Boeing 307 pin, but I didn’t learn until that day he had also flown that aircraft and I didn’t have it with me.

I hope I represented the TWA Museum honorably. Everyone seemed to appreciate what I had to say about Captain Neumann and the history of Transcontinental Air Transport and Trans World Airlines.

The event attendees also wanted to hear some stories about the illustrious Howard Hughes, so I told them stories my father had told me, as well as others I’d read about in a book and some stories from a number of TWA retirees from the Overhaul bases at FFX & Kansas City from over the years. Everyone greatly enjoyed the stories. I really appreciated being asked to represent the TWA Museum at this event; it was an honor.

I set up a table at the event to display artifacts from his career with TWA. I didn’t realize until that day that the TWA Ambassador plaque came out after Neumann retired.

By Thomas Hilditch

The Farnborough International Airshow is a biannual event alternating with the Paris Air Show each year. This famous event started in 1948 with Farnborough site chosen because of its place in British aviation history – in 1908 the first sustained, heavier-than-air, powered and controlled sustained flight in the United Kingdom (their version of our Kitty Hawk, NC). The show was initially intended to display and promote the diverse facets of British aviation manufacturing. Many highlights include the world’s first commercial jet airliner and the debut of Concorde.

The show has evolved to exhibit information on advances in six key industry themes: Defense, Future Flight, Space, Sustainability, and Innovation. It was live-streamed to the world and attended by more than 100,000 visitors from 60 countries. Ninety civil and military aircraft were on display – some static and some flying. Boeing and Airbus announced commercial orders totaling $1.9 billion from Qatar Airways, Japan Airlines, Virgin Atlantic, and Flydubai. 

I was able to attend this year’s show and can offer some insight to others who may want to attend this event in the future. Keep in mind these comments are made through the eyes of an aviation enthusiast/photographer and not a practitioner in the aerospace industry. Only one day of the event is open to the public with the other four days reserved for those employed in the industry. Obtain a list of the exhibitors from the show’s website and contact them to see if they can provide you with a pass. It is necessary to register with www.farnboroughairshow.com if you intend to get a ticket for the public admittance day. The website posts useful information before the show (including a list of exhibitors) and suddenly provides a link to purchase your ticket – they are limited and sell out fast.

Despite limited public participation, there are plenty of photo opportunities exploring the surrounding airfield and plenty of time to speak with other wandering enthusiasts from the excluded public. The website publishes each day’s aircraft and flight times. Photo opportunities of these flight demonstrations abound. The controlled airspace is wide around the airfield allowing good perimeter observations. Flights are generally in the afternoon after 1:00 pm. 

The best place to position yourself is on the outdoor balcony of the multi-story Aviator Hotel immediately adjacent to the airfield. Hotel management allows non-guests to take a seat as long as you continue to purchase drinks. It’s helpful to dress professionally and become friendly with your server – sometimes they will give you a break and won’t make you continue ordering drinks and become inebriated. An alternative good observation point is to skulk around the hotel parking lot.

Planning is crucial if you intend to undertake a pilgrimage to the show. Suitable lodging can be difficult to find – “suitable” meaning a fair price at a close location. There are many surrounding hotels but transportation to and from the event is difficult and chaotic. Something within walking distance is best. Closer to the show date rooms get filled up and prices increase dramatically. I booked a room one year in advance at the Bed & Breakfast Colebrook Guest House (www.colebrookbandb.co.uk). This was about a five-minute walk to the airfield.

Next year will be the Paris Air Show, June 16-22, 2025. We will be back at Farnborough July 20-24, 2026, so you’ll have to wait until 2026 if you plan to attend this UK show. My insight will hopefully still be valid.

All photos courtesy of the author.

By Thomas O. Hilditch

When wandering through the streets of Salt Lake City, UT you will inevitably run across the Family Search Library, a genealogical research facility located in downtown on the southwest side of Temple Square. It’s the largest genealogical library in the world with over 2.4 million searchable records on file.

I entered the facility with great curiosity and was interested in what I might find. Working with a volunteer research assistant, I discovered a remarkable trove of documents. Many years of my family history was spread before me in the form of marriage certificates, birth and death documents, visa forms, and more.

In disbelief, I also found a BOAC flight manifest dated December 26, 1953  – a Boeing 377 Stratocruiser, tail number G-ALSD “Cassiopeia” for a flight from London, UK to New York, NY. Prominent on this document, I found myself listed as a four-year-old passenger! My first of many transatlantic crossings. Wow, what a find!!

The Boeing 377 Stratocruiser, developed in the late 1940s, was a luxurious commercial airliner based on the World War II B-29 bomber. Although it offered passengers a comfortable and spacious flying experience, it ultimately faced challenges with operating costs which led to limited production and eventual retirement from commercial service.

Transatlantic flying in those days was an arduous 15 to 20-hour journey with many stopovers.  The first leg would be from London, UK to Shannon, Ireland for one and a half hours. Stopover ground time at Shannon would be an additional one or two hours. The stopovers at each landing were a crucial part of the trip ensuring the aircraft could safely complete the journey across the Atlantic. 

The complexity of the B-377 engines made maintenance and repairs challenging and time-consuming. Specialized training and tools were required, and even minor issues could result in significant downtime for the aircraft. Before take-off, the aircraft would be maneuvered to a holding apron where engines would run at full power for several minutes.  If no problem surfaced the journey could continue. Otherwise, it would return to the terminal, passengers disembarked, and maintenance would resolve the issue.

The next leg of the journey would be the actual ocean crossing This would be an eight-hour flight to Gander, Newfoundland  – part of the London to New York “Great Circle Route” since 1936. A Stratocruiser arriving in Gander would generally have a one to two-hour stopover to refuel and remedy any mechanical issues.  The final flight to New York’s Idlewild airport was an additional four to five hours.

I would like to note that my father, as an RAF pilot, completed a similar journey in 1942 as a youthful 24-year-old. A Lockheed Hudson was a much smaller aircraft than the Stratocruiser and required many more stops. Starting in Prestwick UK he would fly Reykjavik, Iceland – Goose Bay, Labrador – Montreal-Dorval, Quebec – and finally on to New York.  Total flying time was 28 hours. 

By Dennis Danesi

Way back in July 1972, I was heading with my parents to Los Angeles to visit Disneyland. This was going to be my very first time flying on an airplane and I was thrilled to learn that we were flying aboard a TWA 747. I was already in love with aviation as my Dad would take me to Chicago O’Hare Airport all the time to see the planes and walk around the terminals (back when you could do that) and he would even ask a Pilot or Flight Attendant to take me onboard an airplane for a few minutes just to see the passenger cabin and cockpit.

However, as things usually go, we received a call from our Travel Agent telling us that we were no longer going to be flying on a 747. TWA put this new aircraft on the route and we were going to be on their inaugural L-1011 flight. I was NOT happy at all, what was this L-1011 thing and why can’t we fly a 747?!?!  

When we arrived at the airport that day, I remember the news media being there. On board, they gave us beach towels as a remembrance of this inaugural flight.

I remember the Captain visiting the cabin and greeting passengers, including myself!!

Here is the crazy part, I have always wondered which TWA aircraft I was on for my first flight as a kid.

Fast forward to a couple of years ago.  I was starting a page on Facebook for Past US Aircraft and Liveries (US Airlines Past Liveries and Aircraft | Facebook) and was searching for photos. I came across the photo below and the caption Mr. Jon Proctor wrote. Needless to say, I was blown away.  My family and I were on that exact aircraft when Mr. Proctor took the photo so many years ago.  I only wish I had known sooner to share this with him.  His photos are amazing and I am glad that I found his site.

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Editor’s Note:  This is why we at the World Airline Historical Society keep the late Jon Proctor’s website alive, for great stories such as this. Do you have a story to share about a memorable flight or an aviation collectible? We want to hear from you! Leave your comments/contact information below or send us an email. We regret we are unable to publish all submissions.

By Fons Schaefers

Introduction

Anyone who flies regularly as a passenger, even when not necessarily keen on selecting his or her seat of preference, still has an idea of how airliner seats are identified. Seat rows are numbered from front to rear. Across each row, seats are given a letter. Thus, when the boarding pass says seat 21J, the passenger knows not to go and look in the forward section of the airplane but somewhere in the middle. And that it is on the right-hand side. At least, when seen in the direction of flight, because when boarding through a forward door, and walking down the aisle (or one of two aisles, as the case may be), this seat is actually on the left.

This way of identifying airliner seats is universal. But has it always been so? And if not, when was it introduced, and how were seats identified before? Let’s have a look at the history of airliner seat numbering. This article is about the period from the start of air transport to when the current system became common, around 1960. In the next part, I will focus on the years since then.

Pioneers

The very first instance of seat numbering likely dates back to the first year of air passenger transport in Europe, or to be more precise: in the United Kingdom in 1919. The Great War was just over and bombers made by the British aircraft manufacturer Handley Page were converted for passenger use. The company started an airline, named it Handley Page Transport Ltd., and offered flights from London Cricklewood across the Channel to Paris Le Bourget and Brussels-Evere, three times each per week. A single-sheet timetable describes the aircraft as “giant,” having the capacity to carry 12 passengers including the pilot and a mechanic. On the reverse side is a seating layout. Of the 10 passenger seats, two were at the front ahead of the cockpit and in the open air, two more were in a closed cabin behind the cockpit, and the remaining six were in an aft cabin, separated from the forward cabin by a freight hold.”The seats were numbered 1 to 10 from front to rear, left to right.

How passengers boarded is not directly clear. As with all period aircraft, it was a tail-dragger. On the ground, the aft cabin was close to the ground but the nose stood up high. The door in the aft cabin required only minor steps. The forward cabin and the open-air seats were inaccessible from the aft cabin and required boarding from outside. Likely, a tall ladder was used and only athletic passengers were allocated to these seats. In the forward closed-cabin, the plan marks a “door,” which I believe was in the fuselage bottom, accessible by the ladder.

This early way of assigning numbers to seats was exceptional. Other airlines in the pioneering decade did not use seat numbers. I reproduce a cabin chart for the popular Fokker F VIIa as used by KLM in the mid-1920s. All eight passenger seats are identified as “A = Comfortable Passenger-seats.” There is no sign of seat numbering.

1930s

ln Great Britain in 1924, Imperial Airways was formed by a merger of Handley Page Transport and three other airlines. Handley Page continued building airplanes. In 1931, the Handley Page H.P.42 was introduced. Imperial used it in two versions, called the Western type and the Eastern type. The former was operated on the shorter routes in Europe (mostly London Croydon-Paris Le Bourget). The Eastern type was used on longer routes, such as from Cairo, Egypt to Karachi in what was then British India. Their seating capacities differed significantly: 38 on the Western type and only 18 on the Eastern type. In either variant, the passenger entrance door was at the extreme rear, on the left, and the seat numbering started there: left to right, rear to front.

At a later stage, the capacity of the Eastern type was increased with three double seats. These were placed at various locations across the cabin, but the original numbering was not changed. The result was that the additional seats were numbered out of sequence, creating a seemingly haphazard numbering pattern.

Later in the decade, when air transport in the USA had taken off and surpassed in volume that of Europe, the Douglas DC-3 was the aircraft type in use by the main airlines. Transcontinental & Western Airlines (TWA) was one of them. Their operations at the time were confined to the United States. Only after the war would it become an intercontinental airline and change its name to Trans World Airways). TWA published the seating layout shown below. Seats were sequentially numbered from left to right, front to rear. Number 13 was omitted, as it is regarded in Western culture as the “unlucky” number.

KLM Royal Dutch Airlines operated the DC-3 on what was then the longest air route, between Amsterdam, the Netherlands and Batavia, Netherlands East Indies (now Jakarta, Indonesia), taking five days and making 19 stops. Rather than fitting it with the normal DC-3 seating capacity of 21, only 12 seats were installed as seen in the below seat plans. One of these was non-saleable as it was for the steward. This was always a male, as KLM scheduled its stewardesses on the European routes only. The remaining 11 seats were numbered radiating from the passenger entrance door (located aft on the right side), so from right to left, and rear to front. Seating diagrams together with passenger names and their destination were made up for each flight and distributed to all on board. Current privacy rules and ethics did not exist then. I reproduce two plans, without the list of names. The first is for the flight starting in Batavia on May 6, 1939, and the second is for the flight departing Amsterdam on August 8, 1939. Note that in the latter the numbering sequence was reversed in the front row (seats 10 and 11). This may have been a typo, as the other plan did not have this anomaly.

The flight on August 8 would be one of the last on the route. With the outbreak of war in Europe a few weeks later, the route was initially truncated (starting at Naples instead of Amsterdam) and later terminated entirely.

Sequential numbering

While Douglas was the most successful manufacturer of airliners just before the war, Boeing tried to take its stake in the market with the Model 307, also known as the Stratoliner. It was unique in many respects: it was the first pressurized airliner and its cabin layout was asymmetrical, with four compartments seating six each on the right side, and a single row of nine seats on the left. Such a layout is reminiscent of European long-distance train coaches but has never since been repeated in air transport. Each of the compartments could be converted into sleeping mode, with four berths each: two upper and two lower. Even the airplane’s windows were asymmetrical, with two closely located windows per compartment on the right side and a more traditional lineup of nine windows on the left. Only 10 Stratoliners were built, five for TWA, three for Pan Am, and, a single ship for private use by Howard Hughes, then the owner of TWA. The prototype was lost early on and this delayed the entry into service which eventually took place in 1940. Within two years they went to war but most came back into civil service in 1945. TWA then used a more traditional cabin layout of 38 seats. Only one airframe, NC19903, survives, a former Pan Am aircraft preserved in flying condition at the National Air & Space Museum’s Udvar-Hazy Center adjacent to Washington-Dulles (IAD) airport. The hull of the Howard Hughes aircraft was converted years ago into a private houseboat and is now in the collection of the Florida Air Museum.

The unique cabin layout made for a unique way of seat numbers. I reproduce a cabin plan from a TWA ticket jacket, dating from about 1941. Left is forward. The numbering reflects the order of passenger comfort: the lowest numbers for compartment seats that could be converted into berths (1 to 17, with number 13 omitted), then the row of seats on the left (18-26), and finally the less popular middle seats in the four compartments (31-38). The first 16 numbers had the suffix U or L for upper or lower berth respectively. Note that in each compartment, the outboard seats were even-numbered and the inboard seats odd. The omission of the number 13 meant a reversal of the numbering direction in the fourth compartment.

The practice of sequentially numbering all seats in airplane cabins continued after the war. In the second half of the 1940s, KLM used airplanes much larger than the DC-3, with seating capacities of up to 46. I show a Lockheed L-749 Constellation seat plan dating from a flight in September 1949. KLM still listed all the passenger names and destinations and distributed this to all on board.

With so many seats, it became difficult for the crew to remember their numbers when directing passengers to their seats. Iberia thought of a way to make this easier. They came up with odd numbers on the left side and even numbers on the right side. This was for window seats. For aisle seats, an A was added. The number 13 was omitted. This diagram is taken from their safety leaflet and also shows the location of the life raft, or “dingy” as it was translated by Iberia.

The same numbering method was employed by Colonial Airlines, a New York La Guardia-based airline that primarily flew between the Northeast USA and adjacent parts of Canada, but also had two overseas routes: from New York and Washington to Bermuda. On those routes, they used the DC-4, for which the seating chart is shown below. Being five abreast, center seats were added, marked with a C. You may wonder whether the illustrator actually saw the airplane or had an egg-inspired mental picture of how it looked like.

Iberia was apparently not entirely happy with their DC-3 numbering method. For the DC-4 they kept the left/odd and right/even style but discarded the letter A for the aisle seat and used numbers throughout. With more seats right of the aisle than left, this led to a situation where the numbers across the aisle progressively went out of sequence. As an example, the row with seats 39 and 41 on the left had seats 54, 56, and 58 on the right.

On their Bristol 170s, which were symmetrical in seating, this worked out better. The nose is right.

Pan American World Airways used the same method in their Boeing 377 Stratocruiser, which entered service in 1949. With equal numbers of seats on either side of the aisle, the numbering kept pace except for the aft section where there were no seats on the left in the boarding area. The layout also shows how the beds were numbered: U1 to U10 and L1 to L10. There was no U9 or L9.

On their boarding cards, Pan Am used a simplified presentation of the seat numbers, with a disproportionally wide aisle. “Double deck” referred to the lower deck lounge. This was not for use during take-off and landing, so its seats were not assigned and therefore remained unnumbered.

In the Soviet Union, Aeroflot applied the sequential numbering style on the Ilyushin Il-12 and Il-14. Note that the IL-12 has one more row than the IL-14, even though it is the smaller of the two types. The three-abreast layout shown here in a 1956 brochure was quite comfortable, as both types could seat up to 32 passengers in a four-abreast arrangement.

Aeroflot brochure extracts, 1956.

Numeric-alpha

The earliest application I found of the numeric-alpha method was by United Airlines on their Boeing 377. This airplane type entered service in January 1950. This may well be the year United introduced this numbering system. A decade later it would become the world standard, but would they have realized that in 1950?

I found the seating diagram as it appeared on a period ticket envelope.

Other early users of the numeric-alpha method were TWA (now standing for Trans World Airways) in 1954 on their Lockheed Constellations, Eastern Airlines, also on the Constellation, and, quite surprisingly, the Soviet Union airline, Aeroflot.

In 1956 Aeroflot introduced jet service and adopted the numeric-alpha way of seat numbering. The alpha element was in the Cyrillic script (aбв). I reproduce, from their winter 1957/58 timetable, the layouts of the Tupolev 104 (50 seats) and the improved Tupolev 104A (70 seats).

The inferior -104 model was quickly taken out of service and replaced by a second upgrade, as reflected in the summer 1959 timetable which shows the new 100-seat Tupolev 104B next to the Tu-104A.

More numeric-alpha examples, as well as non-conforming seat designations in the second (and final) part.

Sources

For this part, I used a variety of sources, including

• • Timetables (timetableimages.com, Björn Larsson,for KLM Fokker F VII A and Aeroflot, twice);
• • Safety cards Iberia;
• • Aircraftinvestigation.com;
• • eBay.com;
• • Air France museum;
• • SFO museum;
• • Antillesairboats.com.

Fons Schaefers
[email protected]
April 2023