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AllFlying |
The making
of Harvey
Lots
of people dream of building and flying their own aircraft, but only a small percentage
get to live the dream. Martin Hone has, and here he talks us through the reality
of completing a Van's RV6… (2005)
Like
most kids - well, kids of my generation at least -- I used to build model aircraft
from plastic or balsa wood kits after school, and rode my bicycle down to the
local airfield on weekends.
These were actively encouraged by my father, who
had flown Tiger Moths, Chipmunks and the indigenous Wackett trainer during my
very early years, but I doubt either of us imagined that I would also end up flying
for a hobby, much less building an aircraft in our backyard. In fact, it was some
thirty years later that I had the opportunity to re-kindle the interest, when
friends who had bought a Quicksilver ultralight needed some mechanical assistance.
This led to the purchase of a well-used Lightwing, and the ensuing nine-month
restoration provided a basic appreciation of aircraft structures, as well as a
vehicle in which to learn to fly. Two years later, my father took a fancy to the
J6 Karatoo, a rather lovely rag & tube aircraft very similar to the venerable
Piper Cub, and we decided to build one together. Unfortunately he passed away
in the early stages of construction and never saw it fly, but I flew it for ten
years and loved every minute of it, including a circumnavigation of Australia
in 1996. It was, and still is, a great little taildragger, but I felt that I had
done everything I could do in it, and was looking for a new challenge. That is
when a partly-built Vans RV 6 was offered to me by fellow SAAA member, Barry Brickland,
who realized that he preferred to fly than build. The RV series was well recognized
by those in the know as a relatively easy to build, high performance aircraft,
so after some deliberation, I took up Barry's offer. This particular kit had been
ordered in 1996, and was a QB version, which meant that some of the easy assembly
and repetitious work had been done, with 51% remaining for the builder. The fact
that it sat in my garage for 3 months before I actually commenced work is an indication
that I was still unsure of what I was getting into. Coming to terms with how to
operate the pneumatic rivet gun, the hand-operated rivet squeezer, the dimpling
and deburring tools, understand drill sizing, read plans, and becoming re-acquainted
with AN specs for rivets, nuts and bolts was easy enough. Dreaming of the finished
project provided motivation, but I still had to get my head around the concept
of tackling just one component or sub-assembly at a time, and not on the whole
project, which was just too daunting when taken in its entirety.
Once you start,
marking out sheets of aluminium, deburring the sharp edges caused from cutting
or drilling, dimpling for the countersunk rivets and squeezing them to form a
component that will fly 10,000 feet in the air and at a speed of 300 kmh is surprisingly
simple and straight forward. When it comes to designing and wiring up the panel
and the various electrical systems, there is a lot more freedom. The RV List and
the Aeroelectric List are both valuable, internet-based, sources of information
and advice regarding every facet of building an RV, and there is bound to be someone
in your neighbourhood half way through an RV that can offer support and encouragement.
Along the way, I designed a hinged panel for the main instruments, and a sub-panel
for the toggle switches and VHF radio to allow easy access and serviceability.
For the same reason I made an access panel on the top skin, forward of the canopy,
which allows access to the brake reservoir, starter and battery relays and rudder
pedals. I also modified the fuel system to move both the fuel boost pump from
the cockpit, and the gascolator from the firewall, to the cooler location within
the wing root. But deviating from the plans will entail a lot more time and effort,
and must be thought through carefully, but it is not rocket science either.
One
of the great things about an RV is that if you do stuff something up, a fax or
email will get you a replacement part within a week, but be prepared to be slugged
with a hefty freight bill if you want it quickly.
As Harvey the RV came together,
I was glad that I had taken the opportunity to purchase Barry's engine as well.
It was as much of a stretch buying the factory-new Lycoming as it was when I bought
the 912 Rotax for the Karatoo back in 1993. It was living up to my prediction
that this project would be double everything… would go twice as fast, burn
twice as much fuel and cost twice as much as the previous one. At least I did
not have to design, build and pay for a structural analysis of the engine mount.
It came already set up to take the 160 horsepower Lycoming (pronounced Lycumming,
after the local Indian tribe)) so it was a relatively simple matter to mount the
engine and fabricate and fit the various controls and hoses. By using the recommended
engine, things like the induction system, exhaust, wiring - even the prop options
- were all straightforward.
Fibreglass on the other hand was the worst part
of the project. Even though I had designed and molded a new glassfibre cowling
for the Rotax 912, as well as a Kevlar fuel tank and seat for our race bike, I
detested having anything to do with the stuff on the RV. Maybe I was spoilt by
fabricating in alloy, where you cut, shape and rivet the part as per the drawings,
and it is finished except for painting. Not so with fiberglass. I am constantly
amazed by what you can do with it, but it is smelly and the dust gets everywhere
-- I cannot believe I have friends who actually built whole aircraft from the
stuff. It is also the reason why I didn't fill the rivet lines before painting.
I wanted this aircraft to look like it was made from hand crafted aluminium --
not smooth and flawless as one expects in a new car or fridge, but something with
character where every blemish tells a story.
When you build an aircraft, you
try and research each new aspect before you tackle it, but you really only become
proficient by doing it. This means that by the time you have got a handle on the
particular skill in question -- riveting, soldering or painting -- you have probably
completed that component or mini-project for which you needed that skill. This
is why so many builders are repeat offenders. They are bursting with all these
skills, and need another project that will utilize them, making the next one quicker
and maybe better...
I found painting one such area. I was very happy with
the paint job on the Karatoo, especially given its rag and tube construction,
and this had led to being asked to help paint a friend's antique aircraft, and
later a warbird. But each time it was a lesson in crisis management. If you wait
too long you just lose the edge, so when I came to paint Harvey it was like having
to learn all over again. I can see why paint shops ask upwards of $6000 for a
spray job. Anyway, I managed to come up with an acceptable finish without using
too much paint, an important consideration in keeping the weight down.
Despite
lining my garage in plastic sheet and wetting the floor down, I still got dust
in the paint, and ended up doing the wings out in the open. Just had to make sure
I didn't spray when the bugs were out, or if it was windy, or leave the parts
out overnight -- don't ask how I know.
The interior was about the last of the
mini-projects. Once I had decided on the type and color of material, I sent the
seats off to be trimmed by an expert, but only after I spent many hours testing
various foam shapes and densities. I found that the seats need to be firm, with
at least one layer of a visco-elastic foam such as Temperfoam, and the seat back
must have a well placed lumber support. Then you can be assured of many comfortable
hours in the saddle. The most common method of lining the cockpit seems to be
sticking a lightweight fabric directly to the inside panels. Simple, effective
and lightweight. I used a material that already had a thin foam backing, and then
wrapped this around thin paper-backed foam art board, cut to fit the interior
panels. Any sort of lining is going to cut down on noise and vibration, but watch
the weight.
So, three years down the track, Barry gets a call to come and collect
his old 'plane and truck it up to the central Victorian airfield of Mangalore,
where the wings are mated to the fuselage, and the associated wiring and fuel
system is plumbed for the final time.
Once fully assembled, Alan Searle come
over from Mansfield to undertake the Weight & Balance procedure in order to
determine the aircraft's Centre of Gravity, and then Darren Barnfield, an SAAA
and CASA Authorized Person, dropped in to do the Final Inspection for the issue
of a Certificate of Airworthiness.
Ten years earlier, a gentleman from the
then CAA, and the local Licenced Aircraft Mechanical Engineer (plus another two
LAMEs having a look) went over the Karatoo with a fine tooth comb as part of its
Final Inspection, including all the relevant paperwork. It took about 4 hours
and was quite stressful, because it was built under the much more rigorous CAO
101.28 regulations of the time, including Stage Inspections throughout the building
process. Now we have the US - style Experimental Category, where the builder accepts
total responsibility for the airworthiness of the aircraft - not the government
or CASA, hence the inspection was more to do with the correct placement of the
various placards and registration letters than looking for missing cotter pins
or two left wings. As long as you do the right thing, it is a great system.
With
only a few minutes of stick time in an RV, I certainly wasn't about to undertake
the first flight, which coincided to the day with the first flight of the Karatoo
a decade earlier.
Rather, I left this task to experienced RV pilot and builder
Chris McGough. His skill and experience certainly paid off, not only with assessing
the flying qualities of the new aircraft, but managing the new engine during the
critical running-in period.
After wringing it out and getting through the assigned
25 hour test period, Harvey was again mine. The next step was to do some navigation
training in order to finish off my PPL -- fortuneately in the RV, except for the
actual flight test, which was done in a Cessna 152, something I had never flown
before. The training wheel at the front made it pretty easy though.
Since
then, we have done a number of cross country flights, reveling in the RV's speed
and agility. It will cruise comfortably at 160 kts, and easing back to around
140 kts has the 320 cubic inch (5.1 litre) engine burning around 23 litres per
hour.
Handling is delightful - aileron rolls, loops, spins and wing-overs
are easily executed but you need to keep an eye on speed build-up when pointed
downhill. Normal flying can be accomplished with minimal rudder input except for
take-off and landing. Most of this is due to good design, and partly due to paying
close attention to saving weight whenever possible, or rather, not adding weight
where it wasn't necessary. If you want the flash leather interior, the electronic
gadgets, custom paint scheme etc, there is a definite trade off in performance.
Actual
operating costs are about three times that for the Karatoo. Speed costs, so how
fast do you want to go ? In my case, with the Lycoming O-320, fixed pitch metal
Sensenich prop and 'steam gauge' VFR panel, I am looking at $100 per hour. That
is based on 100 hours flying per year, and takes into account fixed costs, such
as hangarage, comprehensive insurance and annual airport fees, as well as operating
costs such as fuel, oil and an engine TBO (complete re-build) at 2000 hrs. Cheaper
than motor racing, but doesn't stack up well when compared to hiring a regular
GA or owning an ultralight. On the other hand, what value do you place on having
a high performance aircraft, ready to go in minutes, built with your own two hands..?
I'd suggest priceless.
As of the end 2004, there were 4000 RVs flying. That's
4000 aircraft completed and flying, with around another 6000 under construction.
No other homebuilt aircraft comes close to this number, and the reasons are simple
- ease of building, performance and affordability.
Whenever I started to feel
overwhelmed, I figured as long as I drilled one new hole and stuck a bolt or rivet
in it every day, I would sooner or later end up finishing the project. Make that
much later, but you get my point. As long as the various sub-assemblies are tackled
one at a time and treated as mini-projects, you will eventually run out of things
to do and be faced with that first flight in your own, hand-built aircraft. And
having built it, CASA recognizes that you are also the best person to maintain
it, which will save you a lot of the expense and frustration come the Annual or
100 Hourly Inspections. You don't need anything other than determination. All
the hand and tool skills are learned on the way, and if you are worried about
how long it will take, stop wasting time looking at TV. Three or four nights per
week after work plus one day on the weekend is enough to build any of the current
pre-punched RV kits in less than two years.
But some words of advice - do your
home work, don't believe the glossy brochures unless it is from Van's (manufacturer
of the RV kits), join your local Sport Aircraft Assoc of Australia Chapter (or
the RAA if building an ultralight), get your partner involved, and - finally -
build it light.
Email
contact - click here
Van's owner
site
Van's aircraft manufacturer
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