ctab5060X
Well-Known Member
At the request of several members (long)...
The Beech 18. The Twin Beech. The Kansan. The Navigator. The Expeditor. Or as we called her... "The Bitch". No matter what name you choose to use, it is all the same airplane... the Beechcraft Model 18.
The Twin Beech... <THOUGHT here interuption>I have always thought that name was incredibly neat. I mean, think about it. Think about the number of twin engine airplanes out there. Then think about this... only one airplane comes to mind when you say Twin Beech. Kind of neat, huh? Now that is out of the way, back to scheduled typing...
The Twin Beech. Designed in the 1930s as a low-wing, twin engine, tailwheel airplane that could carry somewhere between 6-11 passengers. First flight occurred on January 15th of 1937 and production ended in 1970, a span of 33 years. During this time, over 9000 Beech 18s were build across 32 different variations. Original Beech 18s were manufactured with either 330 hp Jacobs radial engines or 350 hp Wright radial engines. It was not until the C model 18s (just prior to WWII) that the all familiar 450 hp Pratt and Whitney R-985s were hung on the airframe. In 1945, The D18S became the first post war civilian aircraft to be approved by the then CAA (Civil Aeronautics Administration). In 1955 deliveries of a whole new beast began. The E18S. The "Super 18s" as they were called had an added 6 inches of height to the cabin, provisions for a separate flight deck, better soundproofing, and refinements to the exterior to reduce drag. In 1957, amid no crowds of cheering onlookers, no bubbling bottles of champagne, no chest thumping speeches, serial number BA-291 quietly rolled out of the Beechcraft factory in Wichita. Fast forward 43 years. This is where my story begins. I am now introduced to an airplane that (little do I know) I would come to love and respect and sometimes cuss and hate (rarely). N210Q... executive bird, skydiver, freight dawg, has come to spray mosquitoes.
Flying the Beech 18 was a lot of fun, sometimes exciting, but I really enjoyed that old bird. Before I go any further about flying the airplane, let me introduce you to 210Q. As stated, she is a 1957 Be E18S. All metal construction (including control surfaces), two well maintained Pratt and Whitney R-985 radial engines swinging 3-bladed full feathering Hartzel props. Cowlings had intake scoops on the bottom to allow the engines to be rated at a full 450 hp. Rather than the normal "collector" exhaust like are found on most early Beech 18s (and T-6s and the like) she had 6 short and small (2-3 inch) exhaust pipes, three on each side of the engine. She could carry a total of 318 gallons of fuel in 6 wing tanks. She was modified with a "cargo" style rear door that could be removed for skydive operations and had a "freight" door installed on the pilots side of the cockpit for access to the flight deck when loaded. Gross weight was an impressive 10,200 lbs. (most Beech 18s were 9700 lbs, but the addition of several STCs increased the GW on this airplane to 10,200lbs) Basically, the airplane was set up perfectly for spraying mosquitoes. The setup for the airplane to spray mosquitoes was the basic cargo configuration (i.e. no seats) and the addition of a 250 gallon polyethylene tank that was connected to stainless steel spray booms by high pressure rated steel braided polyethylene lined hoses. All of this terminated in 10 changeable flat fan nozzles. Application rates for us were normally in the .5 to 2 ounces per acre range. Not a lot when you compare it to normal ag work, but perfect for mosquito control. Furthermore, a precision GPS guidance system was added to the instrument panel on the right side and a lightbar was mounted on the left side of the nose in front of the left seat.
Getting the airplane ready could be somewhat of a chore, especially if you were by yourself. The airplane was either hangared (if enough room), or tied down just outside the hangar. I could take as much as an hour or more sometimes to get the airplane ready for a trip. This included, but was not limited to... fuel (takes a while to pump 300 gallons of 100LL) oil, spray system ops check, spare parts for spray system, extra oil for the airplane. Oh, and some spare parts for the airplane. You learned what to take and what not to take by judging the length of the trip. Local one night spray job... nothing. Going to Miami or Houston for a week... might as well bring the mechanic along
(Honestly though, I had fewer problems with this airplane than I did with the Aztecs) So, back to getting ready... By yourself, you could almost wear yourself out before you even got to the cockpit. Preflight was normal as could be when compared to any other airplane, just be prepared to get a little dirty. Only exceptions from the norm would be climbing on the wing to check the oil levels and pulling the props through if the engines had not been run recently. Pulling the props through by hand allows you to locate a potential problem with a hydraulic lock on a cylinder before exerting mechanical forces on the engine (ie starter) that could blow the cylinder clean off the engine. Saw it happen to a Pratt and Whitney R-1340... not pretty at all.
The cockpit was fairly small for such a large airplane. I say large because up until the Beech came on property, the largest airplane I had flown was an Aztec. The Beech 18 weighted as much empty as the Aztec did loaded, so for me, large airplane. Dual flight control, dual instruments. In addition to the standard six pack on the left side, all of the engine instruments were also here. Radios were in the middle behind the center console. The center console consisted of the typical Beech configuration of props, throttles, and mixtures, with the addition of manifold heat and oil shutter levers. Below the throttles was the aileron trim (rudder was overhead and pitch was a wheel beside the left seat) fuel selector valves, controls for oil bypass and oil shutoff valves, parking brake, and tailwheel lock.
Cockpit preflight and prestart for me was getting in the seat, verifying switch and lever placement and going to work. Basically (its been a while) it was Beacon and Nav switches to on (no power yet), Manifold heat cold, Props forward, Throttles back, Mixtures rich, Oil shutters open, Mags off, verify tailwheel unlocked, parking brake set, Battery Master ON. (during cold weather, you also included your oil bypass and oil shutoff valves, but we never flew it when it was that cold [had no heater]) I always started the right engine first as I could not see it, nor could I hear it if I started the left on first. Sooo Battery Master ON, good power, throttles up, boost pump on, throttles to 1/4 (this in on this particular airplane) engine starter selector to right engine, Boost it, Prime it, Start it (three buttons on the left lower panel) count three blades (at least) reach to the right lower panel and turn on the right mags hand back to right throttle. 9 times out of 10 you are in business. Engine starter selector to the left and repeat. Once both are running (smoothly), generators on, avionics on, and wait while the engines warm up. Depending on the weather, how I was parked, or the length of taxi, it could take several minutes for the engines to warm up. Occasionally, moreso in the cooler months than during the summer, I would close the oil shutters (controls butterfly valves in the leading edge), thus shutting off a huge chunk of cold air blowing across the oil coolers. As the temps rose to an acceptable level, I would reopen them and taxi out.
Taxiing could be a bit of a challenge a times as the Beech 18 was equipped with a non steerable, full castering (yet lockable) tailwheel. With the way the airplane sits on the ground, there is very little to no rudder effectiveness during ground operations. Taxiing took engine and brake, and the airplane would try and weathervane if given the chance. A lot of times I would enter a turn on the taxiway with my outboard engine (typical differential thrust taxi), but immediately retard that engine and bring up power on the inboard engine to help arrest the turn and keep from turning too far. This really seemed to help when loaded and working when time on the ground is time wasted. Runups could be interesting as well, especially if you were single pilot as the mags are in front of the right seat. Basically the same as any normal runup... power up, check mags, cycle props, check generator output, check manifold heat, power back set trim and you are ready to go.
Takeoff is about as normal as any tailwheel takeoff can be. Taxi out onto the runway, during your final turn, reach down and lock the tailwheel (it will lock in place as you straighten up) or if you want to have fun with the new guy... don't. Line up on centerline, yoke forward, throttles to the top of the green, sync props (drive not only you, but everyone within hearing distance nuts if you didn't) Let the tail come up... (now here was the tricky part. Remember I said there was little to no rudder effectiveness on the ground... and now your tailwheel is locked... and there is a moment when the tail is just starting to come up that it feels like you have no rudder at all. If you don't realize it, it can bite in a good crosswind.) Okay, let the tail come up, accelerate, maybe a little nose up trim and fly off the ground. Positive rate, put that big old electric gear in the up position. I was truly surprised how fast the gear went from down to up given the size, but when you get the amber up light, the airplane really starts to climb. Blue line was 124 (mph) and 210Q really liked to climb about this speed, maybe a little (118 or so) slower. Climb rates around 1000 fpm, but it doesn't feel like it at all. Feels like you are climbing very, very flat. And in reality, you are. The airplane seemed to like a flat fast climb (120ish) more than it did a steeper slow climb.
Once airborne, the absolute beauty of the airplane starts to take over. Full glass windshield allowing spectacular visibility, with the only blind spots being behind you (about 120 degrees in width) and where the engines were. This particular airplane was equipped with large turn windows which further increased and aided in visibility. Can't tell you the number of times I turned the airplane over town while looking out those windows. The biggest thing I remember being impresses about was how light on the controls the airplane could be. Roll rate was great for an airplane of that size and age, as well as good rudder authority and pitch command. Even though the airplane had long, yet narrow ailerons, the fact that they were attached by a piano hinge gave them the effect of a natural gap seal, thus resulting in excellent roll response. Even in the configuration we were using (dragging spray booms off the wings) we were still able to get about 165 mph (145 kts) indicated airspeed. Working speed was pulled back some to about 155 mph, mainly for calibration reasons with the spray system (pump was about maxed out and couldn't put out enough it we went much faster).
Like I said, working speed was about 155 mph over town, props set to about 1900 to 2000 RPMs and manifold pressure to hold 155 (more when heavy, less when light) and the mixtures were set to what would give us a good balance between fuel flow and temperature. It generally took about two hours to put out a load, including taxi, so about an hour and forty-five minutes actually in the air. Like I said earlier, this airplane could carry 318 gallons of fuel. Way too much for a typical load. This was broken down in to a 76 gallon main tank (fuel boost pumps located in this tank), a 60 gallon wing aux tank and a 23 gallon rear aux tank. Typically, I would leave the wing aux tanks empty and fly with full main tanks and rear aux. After timing for several nights when we first go the airplane, we found that the rear aux tanks (23 gallons) gave us 50 minutes of flying time down low. Needless to say, these became my alternate fuel reserves. If I never touched them, I was good. However, I would burn the fuel out every couple of night, just to exercise the valves and make sure that if I needed those tanks, I would have them.
Landings... Never really did any three point landings in the airplane... never had a need to. Seemed it preferred wheel landings best anyways. Landings were pretty straight forward, even more so when you got used to the sight picture and how far up you sat off the runway. The airplane was very stable during the approach and could be flown fast down final if needed. Initial approach speed was somewhere in the 120 range, with gear down and flaps 30. Final speed was about 100 to 110 with flaps 45. I would generally touch down somewhere in the 95 to 105 range. For instrument approaches, I generally used 125 to 130 indicated (about 110 knots) flaps 30. Even breaking out at 200 feet on an ILS, the airplane was still stable enough to either slow and land flaps 30 or to go flaps 45 and land. The flaps were very fast acting, so there was no worry about not getting them down in time. The flap lever itself had three settings. Up, Neutral, and Down. To lower the flaps, you went to the down setting, watched the indicator, then back to neutral to stop the flap extension. The airplane did have a tendency to not be forgiving sometimes on landing. Even with the big Oleo struts, sometimes the airplane had a mind of its own and you had to stay on top of the airplane at all times. Let the airplane decelerate, put the tail on the ground, slow to taxi speed, unlock the tailwheel, taxi to the ramp.
Shutting down the airplane for the day... Pull into the parking space, set the parking brake, avionics off, ground check the mags (for those with no radial experience, you turn the mags off to make sure the engine will die), pull the mixtures and slowly push the throttles forward (had one that would not quit unless you did this). Props stopped, mags off, generators off, Battery Master off. If I was leaving the airplane for a while or expecting windy conditions, I would always try and pull straight into the tie downs so I could lock the tailwheel. Last thing I would do would be to install the gust lock (actually had the original) and tie the airplane down. Overall, I really enjoyed my time flying the Twin Beech. To me the airplane was docile, yet commanded respect and your full attention at all times. It is one airplane I truly miss flying and would love to fly again.
The Beech 18. The Twin Beech. The Kansan. The Navigator. The Expeditor. Or as we called her... "The Bitch". No matter what name you choose to use, it is all the same airplane... the Beechcraft Model 18.
The Twin Beech... <THOUGHT here interuption>I have always thought that name was incredibly neat. I mean, think about it. Think about the number of twin engine airplanes out there. Then think about this... only one airplane comes to mind when you say Twin Beech. Kind of neat, huh? Now that is out of the way, back to scheduled typing...
The Twin Beech. Designed in the 1930s as a low-wing, twin engine, tailwheel airplane that could carry somewhere between 6-11 passengers. First flight occurred on January 15th of 1937 and production ended in 1970, a span of 33 years. During this time, over 9000 Beech 18s were build across 32 different variations. Original Beech 18s were manufactured with either 330 hp Jacobs radial engines or 350 hp Wright radial engines. It was not until the C model 18s (just prior to WWII) that the all familiar 450 hp Pratt and Whitney R-985s were hung on the airframe. In 1945, The D18S became the first post war civilian aircraft to be approved by the then CAA (Civil Aeronautics Administration). In 1955 deliveries of a whole new beast began. The E18S. The "Super 18s" as they were called had an added 6 inches of height to the cabin, provisions for a separate flight deck, better soundproofing, and refinements to the exterior to reduce drag. In 1957, amid no crowds of cheering onlookers, no bubbling bottles of champagne, no chest thumping speeches, serial number BA-291 quietly rolled out of the Beechcraft factory in Wichita. Fast forward 43 years. This is where my story begins. I am now introduced to an airplane that (little do I know) I would come to love and respect and sometimes cuss and hate (rarely). N210Q... executive bird, skydiver, freight dawg, has come to spray mosquitoes.
Flying the Beech 18 was a lot of fun, sometimes exciting, but I really enjoyed that old bird. Before I go any further about flying the airplane, let me introduce you to 210Q. As stated, she is a 1957 Be E18S. All metal construction (including control surfaces), two well maintained Pratt and Whitney R-985 radial engines swinging 3-bladed full feathering Hartzel props. Cowlings had intake scoops on the bottom to allow the engines to be rated at a full 450 hp. Rather than the normal "collector" exhaust like are found on most early Beech 18s (and T-6s and the like) she had 6 short and small (2-3 inch) exhaust pipes, three on each side of the engine. She could carry a total of 318 gallons of fuel in 6 wing tanks. She was modified with a "cargo" style rear door that could be removed for skydive operations and had a "freight" door installed on the pilots side of the cockpit for access to the flight deck when loaded. Gross weight was an impressive 10,200 lbs. (most Beech 18s were 9700 lbs, but the addition of several STCs increased the GW on this airplane to 10,200lbs) Basically, the airplane was set up perfectly for spraying mosquitoes. The setup for the airplane to spray mosquitoes was the basic cargo configuration (i.e. no seats) and the addition of a 250 gallon polyethylene tank that was connected to stainless steel spray booms by high pressure rated steel braided polyethylene lined hoses. All of this terminated in 10 changeable flat fan nozzles. Application rates for us were normally in the .5 to 2 ounces per acre range. Not a lot when you compare it to normal ag work, but perfect for mosquito control. Furthermore, a precision GPS guidance system was added to the instrument panel on the right side and a lightbar was mounted on the left side of the nose in front of the left seat.
Getting the airplane ready could be somewhat of a chore, especially if you were by yourself. The airplane was either hangared (if enough room), or tied down just outside the hangar. I could take as much as an hour or more sometimes to get the airplane ready for a trip. This included, but was not limited to... fuel (takes a while to pump 300 gallons of 100LL) oil, spray system ops check, spare parts for spray system, extra oil for the airplane. Oh, and some spare parts for the airplane. You learned what to take and what not to take by judging the length of the trip. Local one night spray job... nothing. Going to Miami or Houston for a week... might as well bring the mechanic along
(Honestly though, I had fewer problems with this airplane than I did with the Aztecs) So, back to getting ready... By yourself, you could almost wear yourself out before you even got to the cockpit. Preflight was normal as could be when compared to any other airplane, just be prepared to get a little dirty. Only exceptions from the norm would be climbing on the wing to check the oil levels and pulling the props through if the engines had not been run recently. Pulling the props through by hand allows you to locate a potential problem with a hydraulic lock on a cylinder before exerting mechanical forces on the engine (ie starter) that could blow the cylinder clean off the engine. Saw it happen to a Pratt and Whitney R-1340... not pretty at all. The cockpit was fairly small for such a large airplane. I say large because up until the Beech came on property, the largest airplane I had flown was an Aztec. The Beech 18 weighted as much empty as the Aztec did loaded, so for me, large airplane. Dual flight control, dual instruments. In addition to the standard six pack on the left side, all of the engine instruments were also here. Radios were in the middle behind the center console. The center console consisted of the typical Beech configuration of props, throttles, and mixtures, with the addition of manifold heat and oil shutter levers. Below the throttles was the aileron trim (rudder was overhead and pitch was a wheel beside the left seat) fuel selector valves, controls for oil bypass and oil shutoff valves, parking brake, and tailwheel lock.
Cockpit preflight and prestart for me was getting in the seat, verifying switch and lever placement and going to work. Basically (its been a while) it was Beacon and Nav switches to on (no power yet), Manifold heat cold, Props forward, Throttles back, Mixtures rich, Oil shutters open, Mags off, verify tailwheel unlocked, parking brake set, Battery Master ON. (during cold weather, you also included your oil bypass and oil shutoff valves, but we never flew it when it was that cold [had no heater
]) I always started the right engine first as I could not see it, nor could I hear it if I started the left on first. Sooo Battery Master ON, good power, throttles up, boost pump on, throttles to 1/4 (this in on this particular airplane) engine starter selector to right engine, Boost it, Prime it, Start it (three buttons on the left lower panel) count three blades (at least) reach to the right lower panel and turn on the right mags hand back to right throttle. 9 times out of 10 you are in business. Engine starter selector to the left and repeat. Once both are running (smoothly), generators on, avionics on, and wait while the engines warm up. Depending on the weather, how I was parked, or the length of taxi, it could take several minutes for the engines to warm up. Occasionally, moreso in the cooler months than during the summer, I would close the oil shutters (controls butterfly valves in the leading edge), thus shutting off a huge chunk of cold air blowing across the oil coolers. As the temps rose to an acceptable level, I would reopen them and taxi out.Taxiing could be a bit of a challenge a times as the Beech 18 was equipped with a non steerable, full castering (yet lockable) tailwheel. With the way the airplane sits on the ground, there is very little to no rudder effectiveness during ground operations. Taxiing took engine and brake, and the airplane would try and weathervane if given the chance. A lot of times I would enter a turn on the taxiway with my outboard engine (typical differential thrust taxi), but immediately retard that engine and bring up power on the inboard engine to help arrest the turn and keep from turning too far. This really seemed to help when loaded and working when time on the ground is time wasted. Runups could be interesting as well, especially if you were single pilot as the mags are in front of the right seat. Basically the same as any normal runup... power up, check mags, cycle props, check generator output, check manifold heat, power back set trim and you are ready to go.
Takeoff is about as normal as any tailwheel takeoff can be. Taxi out onto the runway, during your final turn, reach down and lock the tailwheel (it will lock in place as you straighten up) or if you want to have fun with the new guy... don't
. Line up on centerline, yoke forward, throttles to the top of the green, sync props (drive not only you, but everyone within hearing distance nuts if you didn't) Let the tail come up... (now here was the tricky part. Remember I said there was little to no rudder effectiveness on the ground... and now your tailwheel is locked... and there is a moment when the tail is just starting to come up that it feels like you have no rudder at all. If you don't realize it, it can bite in a good crosswind.) Okay, let the tail come up, accelerate, maybe a little nose up trim and fly off the ground. Positive rate, put that big old electric gear in the up position. I was truly surprised how fast the gear went from down to up given the size, but when you get the amber up light, the airplane really starts to climb. Blue line was 124 (mph) and 210Q really liked to climb about this speed, maybe a little (118 or so) slower. Climb rates around 1000 fpm, but it doesn't feel like it at all. Feels like you are climbing very, very flat. And in reality, you are. The airplane seemed to like a flat fast climb (120ish) more than it did a steeper slow climb.Once airborne, the absolute beauty of the airplane starts to take over. Full glass windshield allowing spectacular visibility, with the only blind spots being behind you (about 120 degrees in width) and where the engines were. This particular airplane was equipped with large turn windows which further increased and aided in visibility. Can't tell you the number of times I turned the airplane over town while looking out those windows. The biggest thing I remember being impresses about was how light on the controls the airplane could be. Roll rate was great for an airplane of that size and age, as well as good rudder authority and pitch command. Even though the airplane had long, yet narrow ailerons, the fact that they were attached by a piano hinge gave them the effect of a natural gap seal, thus resulting in excellent roll response. Even in the configuration we were using (dragging spray booms off the wings) we were still able to get about 165 mph (145 kts) indicated airspeed. Working speed was pulled back some to about 155 mph, mainly for calibration reasons with the spray system (pump was about maxed out and couldn't put out enough it we went much faster).
Like I said, working speed was about 155 mph over town, props set to about 1900 to 2000 RPMs and manifold pressure to hold 155 (more when heavy, less when light) and the mixtures were set to what would give us a good balance between fuel flow and temperature. It generally took about two hours to put out a load, including taxi, so about an hour and forty-five minutes actually in the air. Like I said earlier, this airplane could carry 318 gallons of fuel. Way too much for a typical load. This was broken down in to a 76 gallon main tank (fuel boost pumps located in this tank), a 60 gallon wing aux tank and a 23 gallon rear aux tank. Typically, I would leave the wing aux tanks empty and fly with full main tanks and rear aux. After timing for several nights when we first go the airplane, we found that the rear aux tanks (23 gallons) gave us 50 minutes of flying time down low. Needless to say, these became my alternate fuel reserves. If I never touched them, I was good. However, I would burn the fuel out every couple of night, just to exercise the valves and make sure that if I needed those tanks, I would have them.
Landings... Never really did any three point landings in the airplane... never had a need to. Seemed it preferred wheel landings best anyways. Landings were pretty straight forward, even more so when you got used to the sight picture and how far up you sat off the runway. The airplane was very stable during the approach and could be flown fast down final if needed. Initial approach speed was somewhere in the 120 range, with gear down and flaps 30. Final speed was about 100 to 110 with flaps 45. I would generally touch down somewhere in the 95 to 105 range. For instrument approaches, I generally used 125 to 130 indicated (about 110 knots) flaps 30. Even breaking out at 200 feet on an ILS, the airplane was still stable enough to either slow and land flaps 30 or to go flaps 45 and land. The flaps were very fast acting, so there was no worry about not getting them down in time. The flap lever itself had three settings. Up, Neutral, and Down. To lower the flaps, you went to the down setting, watched the indicator, then back to neutral to stop the flap extension. The airplane did have a tendency to not be forgiving sometimes on landing. Even with the big Oleo struts, sometimes the airplane had a mind of its own and you had to stay on top of the airplane at all times. Let the airplane decelerate, put the tail on the ground, slow to taxi speed, unlock the tailwheel, taxi to the ramp.
Shutting down the airplane for the day... Pull into the parking space, set the parking brake, avionics off, ground check the mags (for those with no radial experience, you turn the mags off to make sure the engine will die), pull the mixtures and slowly push the throttles forward (had one that would not quit unless you did this). Props stopped, mags off, generators off, Battery Master off. If I was leaving the airplane for a while or expecting windy conditions, I would always try and pull straight into the tie downs so I could lock the tailwheel. Last thing I would do would be to install the gust lock (actually had the original) and tie the airplane down. Overall, I really enjoyed my time flying the Twin Beech. To me the airplane was docile, yet commanded respect and your full attention at all times. It is one airplane I truly miss flying and would love to fly again.
