CHAPTER I

TEACHING AVIATORS HOW AN AVIATOR FLIES

Teaching another man how to fly is a very important matter, in whatever way you look at it.

You can take a perfect machine and select ideal conditions and let everything be right for making a flight and then it is directly up to the pupil–he must do the operating of the machine, no one else can do it for him. In a single passenger machine, the instructor can clearly show how it is done and then the other fellow must do it. The trick in learning to fly is self-confidence and that must be gained by personal practise. Any man who wants to fly badly enough can fly.

Almost all of the aviators that have flown and are now flying Curtiss machines, like Hamilton, Mars, Ely, McCurdy, Beachey, and Willard and the army and navy aviators, have been practically self-taught although now we have a regular school under the supervision of Lieut. J. W. McClaskey, U. S. M. C. (retired), who has had great success with his pupils. I have been flying for over four years and I feel that I don't know much about it yet.

The would-be aviator should go to a good school where the best facilities can be had and where there is a good large place to fly, without obstructions. The machine should be thoroughly mastered and every part understood. Training a man to fly does not, as I regard it, consist in putting him in an aeroplane and letting him go up before he knows how to get down again. Anybody may be able to go up in an aeroplane, but it requires skill and practice to come down without damage to man or machine.

HOW TO FLY

An aeroplane is supported in the air by its wings. These are placed at a slight angle to the direction in which it goes so that the front edge is slightly higher than the rear edge. This tends to push the air downward and the speed of the aeroplane must be great enough to skim over the air before it has a chance to flow away. You may have had the experience of skating over thin ice which would bend beneath your weight as long as you kept moving, although it would have broken if you remained in one place. This is precisely the same phenomenon, and as the water has not time to flow away underneath from the thin ice so the air is caught under the surfaces of the wings and the machine passes on gathering new air as it goes to support it, faster than the air can flow away. A curved surface is better than a flat one and to find just the proper curve to be most efficient at the speed at which the machine is to fly is a very difficult problem and must be determined by very careful laboratory experiments.

The various flying machines have different ways of accomplishing the control of the rudders for steering to the right or left, and up and down, for a flying machine is different from all other vehicles in this one respect. In addition to the steering, the machine must be balanced, and as the air is the most unstable of all mediums, how to maintain the equilibrium becomes perhaps the most important point in the construction of an aeroplane, as well as the most necessary one for the aviator to master. This is accomplished in various ways and is the characteristic feature of the different machines.

The Curtiss machine is considered one of the simplest of all. When it is remembered that Mr. C. F. Willard, my first pupil, learned to operate a machine with hardly any instruction it would seem that the mere learning to operate should not be a serious obstacle to overcome. If the air is still and there are no wind gusts to strike the machine sideways and upset it, flying is easy, but if the air comes in gusts and is rolling and turbulent even the best and most skilful operator is kept busy manoeuvring the front rudder and endeavouring to keep the machine headed into the wind, and when it tips, moving the side controls to maintain the balance. With all of these movements it is no wonder that the aviator's mind must be active there is no time to think, every movement and act must be absolutely accurate and the body must be under full control.

The operator sits on a small seat just in front of the lower main plane; directly in front of him is a wheel which he can push out or pull back. Pushing the wheel out turns the elevating surfaces so that the machine points down. On the other hand, pulling the wheel toward you points the machine up, causing it to rise higher into the air. Turning the wheel to the right or left steers the machine to the right or left in the same manner as a boat is steered by turning its rudder.

The operator now must consider how to balance the aeroplane. On each side at the extreme outer ends of the machine are placed small horizontal planes so hinged at their front edge that they may be turned up or down. They are connected together in such a manner that when one points up the other points down, thus acting as a "couple"; wires connect these stabilising planes to the movable back of the pilot's seat. This has a yoke which fits over the shoulders of the operator.

When the machine tips to the left the aviator naturally leans to the right or the highest side and the lever is moved to the right by the pressure of the shoulder. This causes the left hand stabilising plane to be pulled down so that it offers its surface at an angle to the wind and exerts a lift on its side while the right hand plane is turned the opposite way, which causes it to exert a depressing effect on its side; this tends to right the machine.

The operator must use his feet also for there is a pedal for the left foot which operates the throttle of the engine, causing it to go faster or slower, and one for the right foot which operates a brake on the front wheel, which helps to stop the aeroplane after it has landed and is running over the ground on its wheels.

THE FIRST STEPS

It is necessary to know every detail of the machine–every bolt, nut and screw, and the purpose each serves in the economy of the whole. It is absolutely essential for the successful aviator to know his motor. The motor is the heart of the aeroplane, and keeping it in good order is just as necessary to the aviator's safety as is the keeping of his own heart strong for any emergency that he may be called to face.

After becoming familiar with its workings, so that it becomes second nature to make the right movements, get into the machine and when the air is perfectly still run it over the ground. When there is no more novelty in the sensation and the machine is in a good position to get up speed you raise the elevator a little and try making short jumps into the air. The other pupils standing in a group at the end of the field are usually hoping and praying that you will not smash the machine before their turn comes and so cause delay until it is repaired.

In San Diego, there was great rivalry between the Army and the Navy. Witmer and Ellyson used to get up by sunrise and go over to the island and take out the old machine we used for teaching, which was nicknamed "Lizzy." They did this secretly because there was only one machine and they did not want the Army to smash it and so keep them down on the ground. After making their practice, they would go home and come back later, pretending that it was their first appearance.

When the officers began their schooling they fell steadily into my way of looking at the problem, and not one of them spared himself bruised hands or grimy clothing. For the first ten days I did not offer them a chance even to give the motor its full power while they were in the aviator's seat. After they had worked around the aeroplane long enough, however, and were familiar with all its details, they were allowed to make "runs" over the half mile course, straight-away.

That is, they took their seats in the machine in turn, the propeller was started, and the machine propelled along the ground on its wheels, like an automobile, without being able to rise. To prevent the machine rising while one of the men was in it, the throttle of the engine was so arranged that it only got half power, which was not sufficient to give it lifting power, but enough to drive it along on the ground at twenty or twenty-five miles an hour. This "grass cutting," as the boys soon dubbed it, gave them the opportunity to become used to the speed and the "feel" of the machine. It also taught them to steer a straight course by using the rudder and the front control, and to practise balance by the use of the ailerons. After a few days of these runs the throttle was given full vent, allowing full speed on the wheels, but the propeller was changed to one without the usual pitch. Thus, while the engine would drive the aeroplane at full speed on its wheels, this propeller did not have enough thrust to lift it from the ground. In this way the military pupils got the advantage of the speed, acquired balance, and adjusted their control to suit it, without the danger of getting up in the air too soon.

A little later, when they had thoroughly accustomed themselves to these conditions, still another propeller was put on. This one had just sufficient pitch to lift the aeroplane from the ground, when well handled, and it would make "jumps" of from twenty to fifty feet at a height of a few inches or, perhaps, a few feet.

These jumps served still further to develop the ability of the men to control the machine and perfect their balance, and it gave them the first sensation of being in flight at high speed, though not high enough to do any great damage should one of them be so unlucky as to smash up. A smash-up was what we particularly wished to guard against at all times, not only because of the cost of repairs and the delay, but largely because an accident, even though it may do no injury to the aviator, may seriously effect his nerves. I have known of beginners who, while making rapid progress in learning to fly, suffered a complete setback just because of an unimportant accident to the machine in flight, or in landing. Eagerness to fly too soon is responsible for many of the accidents that befall beginners. An ambitious young man may become thoroughly convinced after a few jumps that all he needs for making a long and successful flight is the opportunity to get up a hundred feet or so. The first chance he has, he goes up as he had planned, and unless he is lucky or an exceptionally quick thinker, the odds are that he will smash up in getting back to earth again.

I have never seen any one more eager to fly, and to fly as quickly as possible, than were these officers. Probably they were following the military bent of their minds or, perhaps, it was the enthusiasm of the pioneer in a new science.

As a rule, the mornings at San Diego are fine. There is seldom any wind during the forenoon, except when one of the winter rain storms blows in from the ocean. We tried to get in as much work during this calm period as possible. The mornings were found to be the best for doing this work. It was most desirable, not to say necessary, that the pupils should have a minimum of wind during their early practice work. Even the lightest wind may sometimes give serious trouble to the beginner. A gust may lift the aeroplane suddenly and then just as suddenly die out, allowing the machine, should it be in flight, to drop as quickly as it rose. Such a moment is a critical one for an inexperienced man. He feels himself dropping and unless he keeps his head clear, he may come to grief through doing too much or too little to restore his equilibrium.

In the practice work all the officers, as well as two private students, C. C. Witmer of Chicago and E. H. St. Henry of San Francisco, used the same machine. This was one of the older types of biplane, with especially strong wheels, and with a four-cylinder engine. This type was selected as best adapted to the strain of heavy work. It had sufficient power, under its regular equipment, to fly well, but had not the very high speed of the latest type, fitted with eight-cylinder engines. For beginners, I consider the four-cylinder machines the best.

While most of the practice runs and jumps were made during the hours of the forenoon, when there was little or no wind, there was plenty of work on hand to fill in the afternoons as well. We were all the while experimenting with various devices, some of them new, others merely modifications of the old. All of these, whether new or old, involved many changes in the equipment of the aeroplanes. There was seldom a time when at least one or more of the four machines we kept on the island was not in the process of being taken down or set up. Besides, there was the long series of experiments with the hydroaeroplane, which were carried on from day to day without affecting the regular practice work.

These frequent changes in motor, propeller, planes, or controls, were always taken part in by the officers. Thus they became acquainted with everything about an aeroplane and knew the results produced by the changes. I consider this the most valuable part of their training.

All this "building up" process, as it may be called, that is, building up a thorough knowledge of the aeroplane until every detail is known, I believed to be necessary. I proceeded on the theory that confidence is sure only when the aviator has a thorough understanding of his machine, and confidence is the absolute essential to the man who takes a trip in an aeroplane. If the aviator has not the knowledge of what to do, or what his machine will do under certain conditions, he would better not trust himself in the air. Once the men learned to make the runs and jumps successfully and to handle the machine with ease and confidence, they were ready for the next stage of their training before they could be trusted to make a flight. This was to go as passengers. For the carrying of a passenger, I chose the hydroaeroplane.

This machine was not equipped with wheels for landing on the earth, when I first began to use it, but had all the equipment for starting from or landing on the water. We had built a hangar for storing it at night close down to the water on Spanish Bight, which gave us the smooth shallow water for launching it and hauling it out with ease.

First, the men were taken in turn as passengers for runs over the surface of the bay. On these runs I made no attempt to rise from the water. I wanted to give the men time to accustom themselves to the new sensation of skimming over the water at forty miles an hour, for that is the speed at which I was able to drive the hydroaeroplane. The machine would skim along under full power, with the edge of the float "skipping" the water as a boy skips a stone on a pond.

After this I undertook short flights, taking each officer in turn as a passenger, and keeping within fifty or a hundred feet of the water. At intervals I would make landings on the water, coming down until the float touched the surface, and then getting up again without shutting off the power. When these flights had been made for several days and the men had accustomed themselves thoroughly to the sensation of being in flight, I believed they had progressed far enough to be taken up for longer and higher flights over both land and sea. In these flights I used a machine equipped for landing on both land and water with equal safety.

One of the most important things that should be developed in the beginner, and, at the same time, the most difficult, is the sense of balance. Every one who has ever ridden a bicycle knows that the sense of balance comes only after considerable practice. Once a bicycle is under way the balance is comparatively easy, but in an aeroplane the balance changes with every gust of wind, and the aviator must learn to adjust himself to these changes automatically. Especially is a fine sense of balance necessary in making sharp turns.

Some aviators develop this sense of balance readily, while others acquire it only after long practice. It may be developed to a large extent by going up as a passenger with an experienced aviator. I have noticed that it always helps a beginner, therefore, to make as many trips as possible with some one else operating the aeroplane. In this way they soon gain confidence, become used to the surroundings, and are ready for flights on their own hook.

One by one the officers were taken up as passengers on sustained flights until they felt perfectly at ease while flying high and at great speed. The machine I used for passenger-carrying practice work was capable of flying fifty-five miles an hour without a passenger, and probably fifty miles an hour with a passenger. This speed gave the men an opportunity to feel the sensation of fast and high flying, an experience that sometimes shakes the nerves of the amateur.

All this took time. As I have said elsewhere, I did not want to force the knowledge of aviation upon the young officers. Bather, I wanted to let them absorb most of it, and to come by the thing naturally and with confidence. It was much better, as I regarded it, to take more time, and give more attention to the little details, than to sacrifice any of the essentials to a too-quick flight.

The men who had been detailed to learn to fly, I assumed, would be called upon to teach other officers of the Army and Navy and, therefore, they should be thoroughly qualified to act as instructors when they should have completed their work at San Diego. This is the view they took also, I believe, and I never saw men more anxious to learn to fly.

During the last period of instruction, when the men had gone through all the preliminaries; when they had learned how to take down and set up a Curtiss aeroplane; knew the motor, and how to operate it to the best advantage; in short, were thoroughly acquainted with every detail of the machine, they were ready for the advanced stage of the work. This was to take out a four-cylinder aeroplane for flights of from three to ten minutes' duration at various heights.

My instructions to all of the men were never to ascend to unaccustomed heights on these practice flights; that is, not to venture beyond the heights at which they felt perfectly at ease and capable of handling the machine, and to make a safe landing without danger to themselves or to the machine. These instructions were obeyed at all times. Perhaps the caution exercised at every stage of the instructional period had had its effect on the men and they felt no desire to take unnecessary chances.

When they were able to fly and to make safe landings in a four-cylinder machine, I considered that I had done all I could do to make aviators of them. I had tried not to neglect anything that would prove of benefit to them in their future work things I had had to learn through long years of experiments and many failures. In other words, I tried to give them the benefit of all my experience in the many little details that go to make the successful aviator.

Given the proper foundation for any trade or profession, the intelligent man will work out his own development in his own way. I could only start the men along the road I believed to be the easiest and safest to travel; they had to choose their own way and time to reach the goal.

It has been a pleasure and satisfaction to work with the officers of the Army and Navy. Their desire to learn the problems of aviation, intelligently applied, has made the work easier than I had anticipated. The many little annoyances that often beset us are forgotten in the keen satisfaction of having been of some service to the men themselves, and above all to our War and Navy Departments.

A BULLETIN ISSUED AT THE CURTISS AVIATION CAMP

The course is divided into six parts or stages.

1st. Ground work with reduced power. To teach running in straight line.

2nd. Straightaway flights near the ground, just sufficient power to get off.

3rd. Straightaway flights off the ground at a distance of ten or fifteen feet to teach use of the rudder and ailerons.

4th. Eight and left half circles and glides.

5th. Circles.

6th. Figure eights, altitude flights and landings without power and glides.

In the above stages of instruction the men should learn the following about flying:

FIRST STAGE

Learn to run straight, using rudder and keeping on the ground. The idea is to be able to control under reduced power. Student must be kept at this continuously until he is perfectly at home in the machine and accustomed to the noise of the motor and the jar and movement of the machine on the ground. This practice should be kept up from one to two weeks, depending upon the ability the student shows in handling the machine in this part of the instruction.

SECOND STAGE

Motor throttled, but with sufficient power to allow the student to jump the machine off of the ground for very short distances. Care must be taken in adjusting the throttle to allow for wind conditions, otherwise machine may be shot up into the air suddenly and the student lose control of it. Student should be also instructed during these jumps to pay attention to the ailerons to keep the machine balanced. The throttle can be gradually let out to full as soon as the student begins to acquire the use of the ailerons and keeps good balance.

THIRD STAGE

Student should be instructed to rise fifteen or twenty feet from the ground in straightaway flights, and use rudder slightly in order to become accustomed to its use and its effect on the machine in the air. As soon as the student has accomplished the above he may be permitted to rise to the approximate height of one hundred feet if the field is large enough and to glide down under reduced power. When he has done this successfully many times, let him repeat the above gliding with motor cut out completely.

FOURTH STAGE

Student may be permitted to rise to the height of twenty-five to fifty feet and make half circles across the field to the right and then to the left. These circles should be shortened or sharpened with increased banking on turns until they are sufficient for any ordinary condition or case of emergency.

FIFTH STAGE

The student may be permitted to rise to a height of not less than fifty feet, and if the field is sufficiently large, permitted to make long circles, gradually shortening these circles until the shortest circle required is reached. Student should be cautioned not to climb on the turns. He should be instructed to drop the machine on the turns, thus increasing the speed and lessening the possibility of slipping side wise in banking. He should be instructed to land as nearly as possible on all three wheels at once. This may be accomplished by flying or gliding as close to the ground as possible and parallel to it, then slowing the engine and allowing the machine to settle to the ground.

SIXTH STAGE

In making figure eights for pilot's license, student should try to climb as much as possible on the straightaways between the turns and drop slightly on the turns. In making glides from high altitudes where motor is voluntarily cut off, it is best to start the gliding angle before the power is cut off. In case the motor should stop suddenly, the machine should be plunged instantly if machine is at sufficient altitude and considerably sharper than the gliding angle, in order to maintain the head-on speed, and then gradually brought back to the gliding angle.

A DAY AT HAMMONDSPORT–NOTE BY AUGUSTUS POST

The Curtiss Aviation Camp at Hammondsport broke all records on June 22, 1912, by the number of flights made in a day. In all, two hundred and forty flights were made. One hundred and twenty-six of these were with the practice machine called "Lizzie" and constituted straight flights for the length of the field and half circles. Sixty-four flights were made with the eight-cylinder practice machine, and consisted of half circles, circles, and figure eights. The other sixty flights were made with the hydroaeroplane.

The twelve students who made these flights, some of whom were taking the course in the hydro and land machine both, expressed themselves as pretty thoroughly tired out at the end of this strenuous day's work. One hundred or more flights are made practically every day in the week, but the twenty-second being a particularly fine day, this new record was made.

The day's flying used up a barrel of gasoline and four gallons of oil.–A. P.

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