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 Fons Schaefers

Introduction

In the 1970s, civil transport aircraft spotting was quite different from what it is today. Airport security was much more relaxed. Although airport ramps were off limits, at many airports it was easy to find vantage photography spots near runways. Even hangars were not always off-limits. The jet age was less than two decades old. First-generation jets ¹ were still being produced and flew in increasing numbers, all but up for phasing out. There was one exception, though: the Convair jets.

In the U.S., American Airlines had disposed of its Convair 990 fleet after only five years of operation. Most went to Europe and the Middle East. Delta had disposed of its fleet of 880s in 1973/74. TWA laid up its fleet of 25 880s around the same time, triggered by soaring jet fuel prices following the 1973 Arab-Israel war. The 880 consumed more fuel than its peers, such as the 707, so it was the first to go. All 25 were parked in one place. In those days, a congregation of so many identical airplanes was extremely rare.

U.S. Visit

Having been a civil aircraft spotter since 1973 and having visited the more exciting airports of Europe, in 1977 I decided to explore another spotters’ heaven: the U.S. Once the hurdle of obtaining a visa was taken (still an issue in those days; ESTA would be invented much later), I could plan my visit. My plan was to cross the entire U.S. in 30 days by Greyhound bus. High on the list were the military storage facility at Davis-Monthan AFB, Tucson, AZ (with a bus tour every second Saturday of the month), some major airports, the Grand Canyon (hoping for a scenic flight by Ford Trimotor, but alas…), Detroit Willow Run (for the Zantop prop fleet), Niagara Falls and Miami (for its corrosion corner). Also on the list was Kansas City.

TWA Convair 880s

Why Kansas City? JP Airline-Fleets, the contemporary spotter’s bible, in its 1976 edition, listed TWA’s congregation of 25 Convair 880s was right there:

In November 1976, the monthly spotter’s magazine Aviation Letter in # 120 reported:

In February 1977, the news was:

So, with some luck, the 880s were waiting to be logged and photographed when I would pass Kansas City on my way from New York to Tucson.

MCI, May 12, 1977

I left New York on Tuesday, May 10, at 7:00 pm, allowing me a brief, sunset visit to STL the next day. Another night on the bus, and I was in Kansas City. A short ride on the KCI Airport Express brought me to the new Mid-Continent International Airport (MCI) with its three circular terminals: A, B and C.

Looking east from the terminal area, I could see the Convairs. Through my binoculars, I identified the four nearest by registration number. But how nice would it be to have a closer look and take pictures? In terminal B, TWA had an information booth. I boldly stepped up and asked them if it would be possible to visit the Convairs. Quite to my surprise, the lady made one telephone call and then announced it was sorted. She handed me a TWA message note and said, “Take a taxi to the maintenance area and ask there for Larry Andrews.” (or words to that effect).

And so I did. Larry was waiting for me and handed me a visitor pass. Together we walked to the Convairs on the ramp east of the new hangar with its outstanding architecture. The sun was shining, casting sharp shadows. I noted the 880s were roughly parked in three rows. We started walking along the front row, with N808TW being the first, and I started taking pictures.

My tactic was not to take a picture of each airplane from the same angle, but rather a mix so that each airplane, including its registration mark on the tail or fleet number on the nose, would later be traceable. Conscious of time and intending not to ask too much of Larry, I went at quite a pace. At the end of the front row, there were some ships parked at an angle to that row. There we moved to the furthest ship and then returned between the middle and the back, constantly taking pictures.

Halfway, I changed the film from black and white to color slides. Larry shadowed me and offered to take a picture of me in front of one of the 880s.

When we were back to the point where we started, I spotted a set of maintenance steps and asked Larry if I could climb those to take some overview pictures. He agreed.

In all, I took about 35 pictures in what I estimate lasted about 20 minutes. Larry was so kind as to drive me back to the terminal area. I thanked him profusely. From a spot close to terminal C I took one final slide of the Convairs from a distance against a backdrop of the characteristic water tower and the KCAC building (which, as I learned much later, housed TWA administration) before continuing my trip through the United States.

One Month Later

Once back at home, with the pictures developed and returned to me (digital cameras were still futuristic), I could make a rough sketch of the parking pattern. For 23 ships, I positively fixed their location. For N828TW and N816TW, I was not so sure.

43 Years Later

Life went on, and occasionally, when seeing an article in a magazine about Convair 880s, I hoped there was an aerial picture so that I could validate my sketch. But it was in vain. Even Jon Proctor’s book on 880s and 990s did not have one, nor was he aware of any when I asked him at the WAHS convention in Portland, OR, in 2011. But in May 2020, I was lucky. Searching the internet, I found a picture on the website of the TWA Museum, 43 years after my visit. It had been posted in May 2018.

Now I could verify the actual pattern against my original sketch. Looking again at the overview slide, N828TW could be confirmed both by its location and number. But I had misplaced the location of N816TW. This was the only 880 that was not in any of my pictures. Or so I thought. It turned out that I did have a picture of it, taken straight from the rear, so that no registration marks were visible. By gauging the relative location of neighbor ships and by a process of elimination, it had to be #816. Puzzle solved.

Fate of the Convairs

Only twelve days after my visit, TWA sold the first of the 25 Convairs, and soon after, it was broken up on site: N811TW. Jon Proctor describes this as a tough job as its skin was much thicker than that of other airplane types, for which the demolition company was not prepared.

In 1978, N818TW was ferried to Van Nuys, CA, for conversion to a full freighter. Fifteen more Convairs were ferried to Harlingen, TX. Later, they were all ferried to the much drier climate of Mojave, CA. The eight ships remaining on the MCI ramp were broken up in 1979. Four of the Mojave ships were ferried to Atlantic City (3) or Laurinburg-Maxton (1) for use in FAA safety experiments. They were later destroyed, except for 803’s nose, which is kept in Teterboro, NJ. Of the remaining 12, the forward sections of two more ended up in museums: 871 in the Delta Flight Museum in Atlanta, and 817 in the Tillamook Museum in Oregon. Nine others were completely broken up around 2000. In 2024, only N828TW is still intact in Mojave, as N815AJ.

TWA Museum

When I contacted the TWA Museum in May 2020, I learned that Larry worked in material management at the time of my visit. He had retired since and sadly died. Reflecting on the warm welcome reception I received in 1977, I now surmise that perhaps TWA was so eager to sell the ships that anybody who asked to see them was considered a potential buyer and deserved to be shown around.

Last year, I visited the TWA Museum at the old Kansas City airport. On that occasion, I passed by the MCI maintenance area and saw a relic of the Convairs: Convair Drive. How apt.

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Footnote

1: As defined by Airbus, ref. Generations of Jet – accidentstats.airbus.com: Comet, Caravelle, BAC- 111, Trident, VC-10, 707, 720, DC-8, Convair 880/990.

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Sources

• Aviation Letter issue 120 (Nov. 1976), 123 (Feb. 1977) and 144 (Nov. 1978).
• Convair 880 & 990, Great Airliners Volume One, Jon Proctor, 1996.

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Fons Schaefers: [email protected], January 2025

By Gary C. Orlando

All photos by the author.

As promised and thanks to Ms. Penny Sandahl, Douglas P. Fulton (Mesaba Public Relations) contacted me in early September 1995 with an invitation to take part in the two final revenue flights of Mesaba’s Fokker F.27, N278MA.

Mesaba would provide a free space-available ticket from Moline, IL to Minneapolis/St. Paul and then once again, over to Wausau/Central Wisconsin where I would overnight. I’d fly on the final flight back to Minneapolis/St. Paul the next morning and then back to Moline. I was also invited to take part in the festivities afterward.

The flights were to take place September 14-15, 1995. I drove down to Moline the morning of the 14^th and waited to board a Mesaba Dash 8-100, N824MA, for my ride to Minneapolis/St. Paul. The Dash 8s were replacing the Fokkers which had been providing dependable service with Mesaba since late 1984.

Soon we would land in MSP around 650pm and I would sit and wait for the flight over to Central Wisconsin which was scheduled to depart on flight NW3260 at 9:30pm.

Upon arrival in MSP, and as I walked across the ramp, there it was: my 30-year-old ride over to the C-WAY that night.

With my boarding pass in hand, I anxiously waited to walk out and get settled in. Once aboard, I took a seat 5C which was an aisle seat. It was night time so nothing could really be seen outside.

Once we were settled in and with the passenger door still open, the pilots started up the number two engine.

From outside the door I could hear some whistles and cheers and applause as these ground agents would be saying goodbye to the plane for the last time on their shift.  I’m not sure if it was because they were happy or sad about it being retired. I chose to take it as a fond farewell gesture on their part.

We had maybe a third to a half of the seats taken on this flight. Our flight attendant, I would later find out was Miss Nancy Bingham, the number one seniority flight attendant who purposely bid this trip to fly the last Fokker.

Oddly enough, the galley on this F.27 was in the front rather than in the rear of the passenger compartment like later-built Fokkers.

Since it was the second-to-last flight for this F.27, Nancy gave out free drinks to the passengers who wanted them.

I eventually did get up and take pictures of all of the passengers looking front to back and then a shot from back to front. Some of the passengers were characters and having a good time. I’m not sure they realized the significance of this flight. If I recall, I think Miss Nancy or one of our pilots mentioned it to everyone before our departure.

All too soon we were making our approach to Central Wisconsin Airport. One leg down, with the last one to go in the morning. We blocked in at 10:29pm.

Ironically, I ended up booking myself into the same hotel that the flight crew was staying at. I had a nice conversation with them. I explained to our pilots the purpose of my trip. Needless to say, both thought it was neat that I took such an interest in the airplane. On the flight from the Twin Cities, I had explained the purpose of my trip to Miss Nancy.

Bright and early the next morning we would be back out to the airport for the first flight back to Minneapolis/St. Paul. We were scheduled to depart at 600am on NW3261. I rode back to the airport with the flight crew. Our pilots were Captain John Schmoll and Captain Will Waldo, the two highest seniority pilots at Mesaba. Both had purposely bid the trip as Miss Nancy did.

Since I was considered a VIP guest of Mesaba, I was ushered into the back office of Mesaba’s C-WAY operations and I was given the okay to board early with the crew on the plane even skipping the security checkpoint! Remember, this was 1995 and security rules back then were very different than they are today.

I settled into seat 3C and once all the remaining passengers were aboard, I looked around and actually felt very sad on two accounts. First, this would be the last revenue passenger flight for Mesba or ANY Fokker or Fairchild F27 in the upper Midwest, and secondly, because there were so few passengers on this flight to the Twin Cities.

I thought to myself, “Where are all of the Fokker F.27 fanatics?” Was I the only one?

We were shortly underway with engines screaming and blocked out five minutes early. The flight back to the Twin Cities was over way too soon. I was kind of teary-eyed because I knew this might be the very last F.27 I would ever fly on.

We touched down and were soon back where we had started the night before, blocking in at 6:55am. I lingered on the aircraft wanting to take in the sights I might never see again as I made my way up to the flight deck to get a few pictures of the control panel and talk to the pilots and thank them.

Before getting off the airplane, I had Captains John and Will and Flight Attendant Nancy all sign my log book, and Captain John gave me the total time and landings as of our block-in.

Total Time (Hours): 53,371 hours and 3 minutes.

Total Landings (Cycles): 54,058 landings.

Well, that’s it; the end of an era at Mesaba. I was very blessed having been given the chance to take part in this little bit of airline history. Unfortunately, I had to miss the festivities afterward and had to bust a move to get back home as my part-time job at Great Lakes Airlines at the Rock Falls Airport had a shift waiting for me.

It was sad to think that no longer would any F27/FH227 Rolls Royce Dart turboprop engines be piercing through the air or on the ramp at Minneapolis/St. Paul or any other Midwest airport. This was the very last!

As for N278MA, this was not the end for this aircraft as it and a few of the other Mesaba Fokkers that were retired earlier were sold to Las Vegas, Nevada-based Eagle Canyon Airlines. They would fly for a few more years taking tourists to and from the Grand Canyon and operating casino charter flights.

Unexpectedly, I would run into N278MA one final time in 2005 at the Opa Locka Airport in South Florida. The aircraft was parked without engines but, still wore its Eagle Canyon colors. The last I knew it is now a fire trainer at a central Florida location.

Well, that’s all. I hope you enjoyed my little two-part tale in this edition of Tail Chasers.

By Gary C. Orlando

All photos by the author.

In 1994 I sadly learned Mesaba Aviation, dba Northwest Airlink, had shrunk its Fokker F.27 fleet down to just one aircraft. Their once proud fleet of 15 Fokkers had been slowly replaced with DeHaviland Dash 8-100s. Their last F.27 in the fleet was N278MA, a vintage 1965 series 200 model originally built for Ansett Australia. It flew for Ansett, Airlines of South Australia, Air Niugini, back to Ansett, and then to Luxair. Mesaba took ownership of the aircraft in November 1989. With that in mind, I aimed to fly on their last Fokker F.27.

I accomplished that feat with a flight on February 2, 1995. I flew from Rockford, IL (RFD) to Minneapolis/St. Paul (MSP) on an Express I/NW Airlink Jetstream J31. I used my travel agent pass privileges for both Express I and to fly on the Mesaba Fokker, which had a mid-afternoon flight between Minneapolis/St. Paul and Wausau/Central Wisconsin Airport (CWA).

The flight would be a quick trip over and back to “C-WAY” as the Mesaba agents called it. This would not be my last time flying ole N278MA, as later in 1995 I would be invited as a guest on its final revenue flights. I’ll share more about that trip in Part Two.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy my photos of the roundtrip to C-WAY.

Stay tuned for Part Two.

By Phil Brooks

My wife Pam and I were planning a trip to the Traverse City, MI area to visit friends and enjoy the beautiful scenery. On our second day there, since she was going to the town of Charlevoix to go shopping with her friend, I decided to sample the two airlines that fly from Charlevoix Municipal Airport (KCVX) to nearby Beaver Island. The plan was to ride on Fresh Air Aviation to Beaver Island Airport (KSJX), find my way to Welke Airport (6Y8), and fly back to Charlevoix on Island Airways.  

I had called ahead to both companies to find out how things operated. The two airlines don’t have a published schedule. They operate “on demand” but a couple of weeks out,  I found that Fresh Air had an 11 am departure planned, which would work well with our hosts and the shopping trip, so I made a reservation. The cost was $68.50, and I would be charged on the day of departure.

When making my reservation, the planned aircraft type would be a Partenavia P-68. Not a traditional airliner, but a new type for me, which is my yearly goal, along with at least one new airport. If all went well, I would get three of those that day! The only uncertain things were the weather, and getting myself between the two Beaver Island Airports, which are 4.7 miles apart. I could walk, but I didn’t want to keep Pam waiting as we had plans for later.

The weather dawned cloudy on July 16, 2024, but, was forecast to improve at 11 am. It actually cleared out at 10 am – perfect. After a quick look at Charlevoix, the ladies dropped me off at Fresh Air’s office, just down the road from the main terminal at CVX.  I arrived an hour before departure (even though they want passengers to arrive 30 minutes before departure. I was greeted by Lori, who weighed my carry-on bag (I brought my laptop to get some work done in case I got stuck somewhere) and charged my credit card.  I took advantage of the extra time and went back outside to call Island Airways and see how things looked for a return flight later that day. I was advised there was space on the 1 pm departure and that I should be able to get a taxi between airports. If not, they would send someone to pick me up!

There was good news: we had seven passengers so they would be operating a Beechcraft Queen Air on the route – also a new airplane type for me! And since the Partenavia is a much newer aircraft, I figured I would have other opportunities to fly on one. I had tried to get a Queen Air ride in the 1990s on Bemidji Airlines, but the flight was canceled and I never had the time to try it again. 

This Fresh Air Queen Air was powered by Twin Lycoming IO-720 eight-cylinder engines (An Excalibur 800 conversion from the original design). The plane has a very distinct and wonderful sound!

We were transported on a van from their office to their hangar, just south of RW09-27, about halfway down the runway. Their Queen Air in an ex-US Army paint scheme was jacked up in the hangar, so we were assigned to N5078G, painted white with brown trim, and small Fresh Air Aviation titles. We stood by while the cargo was loaded (Fresh Air and Island Airways do a large freight business) and then we boarded through the aft airstairs. I was assigned the right seat, next to pilot Jackson. I think Lori
knew I would enjoy that, and I did!

We departed one minute early and were airborne in two minutes from Runway 27. In addition to the six adults, there was a baby girl (on her first flight!) and a small dog in the row behind me. Cruising altitude was 1,500 feet, and the flight time was 13 minutes. We landed on Runway 27 at Beaver Island Airport (SJX) and were in the blocks three minutes later. I deplaned, took some pictures, and waited in the terminal for one of the agents to return after the aircraft departed for Charlevoix. 

I asked if anyone was going to town or the other airport, and was told no. I was referred to several taxi service phone numbers on the wall. I was calling one of them when a man (he had seen off some passengers for the outbound) walked by and asked if I needed a ride into town. Welke Airport was on the way, so I accepted his kind offer.  I learned his name is also Phil, so we got a kick out of that! He’s a longtime (since 1979) resident of the area and a former private pilot, so we had a nice talk. The 2.6 mile ride took less than ten minutes. I wouldn’t have minded walking, but had to catch the 1 pm departure.

Island Airways was departing for Charlevoix when I arrived, but I didn’t inquire about getting on it. I wanted to look around during the one-hour wait. There was another Islander in the hangar, and some cool 1970s cars in the long-term parking lot to photograph! I recorded the departure, which was good and loud! I checked in and paid the $72 fare. As with the Fresh Air flight, there was no ticket. A steady stream of customers were dropping off and picking up their freight shipments.

Soon the Britten-Norman BN-2A Islander (N80KM, former LIAT- Leeward Islands Air Transport Services) returned from Charlevoix with more passengers, and after it was unloaded, we boarded for my return to CVX.  I was assigned the right rear seat (1B) by pilot Brian upon boarding. 

The man next to me was a business traveler- a healthcare worker from the mainland, returning from one of his visits to care for residents. A couple ahead of us was using this service for the first time, versus taking the ferry. The ferry costs $32.50 per passenger, one way, and takes two hours – that would be an easy decision for me!

We had five passengers and departed seven minutes early, taking off from Runway 27 one minute later. Flight time was 16 minutes and I couldn’t view our altitude. We passed one of the ferries on the way! We made a left downwind arrival to Runway 27, and blocked in at the modern terminal after a two-minute taxi.

I noted that the right seat’s occupant was walking toward another Islander on the ramp – it was Paul Welke, the airport and airline’s owner, who had deadheaded there to pick up an aircraft for another mission!

I was told about this operation by the owner of New England Airlines, another Islander operator, flying from Block Island, NY to Westerly, RI in 2019. I was glad to have finally experienced this operation and highly recommend this excursion if you find yourself in Northern Michigan. I plan to return to Beaver Island to check out the non-aviation sights!

All photographs courtesy of the author.

By Phil Brooks

Note: All photos are courtesy of the author.

In the mid-1980s, Fred Erdman, from Springfield, OH, and one of the original World Airline Hobby Club members, told me there was a DC8 restaurant near the town of Hillsboro, OH. I flew over it (I don’t remember who the pilot was, but it wasn’t me) shortly after that in the spring of 1986, but it was several more years before I could visit it. It turns out the DC8 was actually northeast of Mowrystown, OH, but Hillsboro was used as a reference since it was the nearest town of any size. The actual location was at the intersection of US Hwy 62 and OH Route 321, where the two roads form a “Y”.

I told my friend Pete Crawford about it, and he learned there was an airstrip nearby. Pete got permission from Fred Kay, the strip’s owner, to land his flying club’s Cessna Cutlass there on January 3, 1988. We flew over from Eagle Creek Airpark (now KEYE) in Indianapolis.

Our party of three walked to the Highland South restaurant, and while I don’t remember eating a meal there, we did get access to the DC8, which was not in use at the time. I found this old newspaper article that mentions the owner had difficulty heating it, so it was mainly being used for private parties: follow this link to read the Cincinnati Enquirer DC8 article.

Fred recently told me that he carpeted his attic floor with the original Eastern blue carpet from the plane!

The aircraft came south by road from the former Clinton County AFB in Wilmington, Ohio, where it was used as a “spares” source by Overseas National Airlines at their maintenance base, which is now Wilmington Air Park (ILN). 

The left (public) side was painted in different colors, maybe so it wouldn’t be confused with any specific airline. The “wings” were not original to the aircraft.

It was far from any population center or major highway, so we were probably among the few airline enthusiasts to visit. Nice that they left the registration on the right side!  

I wonder how long it lasted there, before being broken up? The restaurant still exists; it’s now called “The Old Y.”

Here are a few overhead shots of the DC8 Restaurant and “the Old Y.”

By Gary C. Orlando

It wasn’t until 1987 that I would actually get to fly on the Fairchild Hiller FH-227 having been obsessed with this aircraft since before I entered Kindergarten in 1972. It was first introduced to me serving our local airport of Rock Falls, IL (SQI) by Ozark Air Lines. Afraid of it at first because of its screaming-loud Rolls-Royce Dart engines, it soon became my favorite airplane of all time.

On September 25, 1987, I took a 25-minute flight from Moline, IL (MLI) to Burlington, IA (BRL) and back. The outbound flight was Continental Express/Britt flight 4723, scheduled to depart at 12:35 PM arriving at 1:00 PM. The aircraft that day was N378NE, the same plane that graced the skies over Rock Falls six years earlier while operating a charter flight for Britt. N378NE was originally delivered on November 2, 1966, to Northeast Airlines where it flew until Northeast merged with Delta in 1972. N378NE was one of only two FH-227Cs that Delta actually used in regular service before selling all of the former Northeast FH-227s to Air New England in early 1975.

Back at Moline with my ticket in hand, I walked across the ramp to climb the airstair door. I was giddy with excitement! As I entered the aircraft I noticed the interior was just the same as it appeared in the Air New England article written by my friend Rand Peck, that I had read many years earlier in an issue of Airline Quarterly magazine. There were no overhead bins; only racks for coats, hats or small carry-on items. Another curious thing was the seat numbers started with seat row number One in the rear of the plane, getting higher in number going forward, up to row number Twelve. I had my tape recorder with me and I took my seat: 10A, by the propeller on the left-hand side of the aircraft.

Since I was the only person getting on the plane in Moline, Sheri, our flight attendant, came directly over to give me a personal safety briefing. She didn’t announce who our pilots were. I guess I should have asked but, I was just too excited!

I had actually flown on my first Fokker F.27 flight a year previously with Chicago Air Lines to and from Moline to Chicago Midway Airport (MDW). Engine startup was much the same on the FH-227 as it was the F.27; the only noticeable difference was the 227 was a lot louder. However, the real difference came at takeoff time. While the newer Fokker F.27 had been quieter, almost a muffled sound, the FH-227C was very loud. The typical staccato sound emitted by the pointed props was clearly heard in the FH-227. The F.27 was much quieter with its square-tipped props. I like loud, so I was happy.

After we landed in Burlington, the Britt agents allowed me to do a little walk-around photoshoot of this big ol’ bird that I had just flown on. I only wish we had digital cameras back then because I would have hammered that plane with pictures. Enjoy the shots of my walk around of N378NE.

Between the two flights, my time in Burlington was spent hanging out at the airport and exploring. I made quick friends with one of the Britt agents named Gary Freitag. We had a nice conversation about Britt and my interest in the airline and especially the Fairchilds. All too soon it was time to climb back aboard for my return to Moline.

Our return flight was Continental Express/Britt flight 4756. It was scheduled to depart at 3:15 PM and arrive back in Moline at 3:40 PM, where it would then return to Chicago.

As I boarded the airplane I would again be welcomed by Flight Attendant Sheri, along with Captain Wiles and First Officer Munson as our pilots. On this leg back up to Moline, I took a more central spot under the wing (Seat 7A) to get a different sound, which indeed it was. The sound wasn’t as “proppy,” as I coined the term. The row of seats was even with the center of the engine nacelle, providing an excellent vantage to hear the characteristic in-flight whine of the Rolls-Royce Dart engines and to watch the main gear cycle up and down. That whine really becomes more pronounced after takeoff when the pilot reduces engine RPM by opening up the props to take a bigger bite of the air. The approach for landing is interesting, to say the least. It’s almost a “dive bomber” approach, especially on short final. Altogether, it’s a different ride than in a low wing plane because it feels like the plane is hanging on the wings instead of sitting on the wing.

After my arrival back in Moline, I quickly headed back outside with enough time to record audio of N378NE starting up and taxiing out for its departure back to Chicago.

It was a great little adventure that I would repeat a month later on October 27, 1987, but next time on Britt Fairchild F.27, N386BA.