...From a pilot’s perspective, the step up into the cockpit is more than tinged with anticipation. Beyond the cabin’s central fuel tank and through the narrow opening sits scant dials, three throttles and the seats which carried Kingsford Smith and Ulm. Entry to the cockpit would pose a distinct challenge to a larger man as one ducks beneath the doorway and weaves between the seats. Finally in position, being careful not to take a handhold on some historic and irreplaceable lever, I gingerly lower myself into the historic left hand seat. The dials sit ahead of me and it is impossible not to feel some link with the past as I take a grip of the control wheel. Scanning to the right, Ulm’s chair sits vacant and the rustic nature of the rag and tube flight deck is evident. Over the nose visibility is impinged by the cylinders and exhaust stack of the central radial engine; the same culprit engine that blew its exhaust manifold over the Tasman Sea and sent a renegade part hurtling into the starboard propeller with devastating results.

Further dominating the rather obscured view from Smithy’s seat are the broad wings of the Southern Cross. Painted silver, one is struck by the thickness of the aerofoil that is obviously built for lift and not for speed. Within are housed four fuel tanks that are managed by a Heath-Robinson fuel panel behind the pilot’s right shoulder. The ergonomics of this machine only add to the awe of the undertaking. These huge hoary wings also served to provide shade for the crew when they found themselves alone in the Kimberleys in 1929. Having been flying in excess of 24 hours since departing Sydney and lost in the remote northwest, Smithy finally put the aircraft down on the mudflats where they would wait twelve days for rescue. The episode came to be known as the “Coffee Royal Affair” after the crew had combined spirits with coffee whilst stranded. Aspersions were cast on the integrity of Smithy and Ulm at the time, with unfounded rumours of a publicity stunt circulating. The drama was further heightened by the loss in central Australia of Keith Anderson and Bill Hitchcock in their Westland Widgeon as they searched for the missing men. Anderson had been a long term compatriot of Kingsford Smith and the man originally responsible for naming the Southern Cross years before. Damaged, but undaunted, Smithy would continue on and ultimately be the first man to circumnavigate the globe in the same aeroplane. Even so, the stigma of “Coffee Royal” remained.

Whilst the wings and engines dominate the view to port and starboard, an interesting feature is the absence of glass. Whilst there lies a central windscreen, pilots are exposed to the elements, noise and churning airflow through the void on their respective shoulders. It almost defies the imagination to conjure the conditions experienced on the long haul of pioneering international flights. Even so, there were instances when even the relative comfort of the cockpit could not be enjoyed. In May 1935, when the starboard engine had its propeller shattered over the Tasman Sea and was subsequently shut down, it left the remaining engines labouring to keep the Tri-Motor aloft. Trans-Tasman co-pilot P.G “Bill” Taylor climbed through the absent window on the starboard side and drained oil from the defunct engine. Transferring the life giving fluid to the failing port engine was a different matter as the operating engine complicated the process with its propwash as John Stannage discovered when attempting the second stage of the transfer. Smithy subsequently set about climbing and descending the Southern Cross to allow the left throttle to be retarded on the downward slide, thus enabling a slightly thawed Taylor to complete the job.  The transfer was repeated again and the precious mail dumped before the Australian coastline finally came into view. Right engine shutdown, left engine struggling and the centre engine on the verge of failure, the ‘Old Bus’ staggered to a three-pointer at Mascot after fifteen hours in the air.

This was to be the last major flight for the Southern Cross. Smithy knew that after 300, 000 miles his old bus was approaching its ‘use by’ date and so he parted company with his trusty steed at RAAF Richmond in 1935. Her final flight occurred some years later when she was used in a film recounting the life of her famous owner. Subsequently, in 1958, the Fokker Tri-Motor became a central exhibit at Brisbane’s Eagle Farm Airport, where she stands today.

To enjoy the privilege of encountering the Southern Cross at close quarters is a profound experience for any devotee of aviation history. In our present day disposable society, longevity is a rare commodity. The stark, rudimentary nature of the aircraft flies in the face of the contemporary standpoint. It is basic, rugged and low on technology, but high on mystique. Within its fabric shell and its elevated cockpit, the atmosphere is tangible. A boyhood of aviation’s tall tales and true seem to seep from every corner of the “Old Bus”. Much of the Southern Cross’ extraordinary life is well documented and has been subjected to scrutiny time and again. Yet, as I sit at the sharp end of this historic machine and imagine a myriad of frozen, oil spattered moments I can’t help but feel that there is still much left unsaid. Memories that lie on the bottom of oceans and have passed with the men who made them. Perhaps it is better this way, but one cannot help but wonder if these walls could speak.

Thirty years ago my school careers guidance counsellor suggested that I investigate a future in the leisure industries. His skewed logic was that the growth of computers would overrun the workforce, availing people of a mountain of free time in which they would need to be entertained. So how’s that working out for everyone?

He also warned me off a career in aviation as by the year 2000, pilots would be increasingly redundant as automation replaced the man in the cockpit. Fortunately, I ignored all of his recommendations and pursued my chosen vocation in the air. Even so, his apocalyptic vision for pilots is coming a lot closer than his prediction regarding computers. Automation has indeed encroached heavily into the pilot’s domain and the growth of technology such as Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAV) is no longer futuristic.

Early steps in the pilot’s demise could be seen in the disappearance of their former comrades; the navigators and flight engineers. With the advent of autonomous navigation systems and automated power management, two crucial members of the flight deck have disappeared into obscurity. Only a small fleet of older generation aircraft and some specialised operations still call for a ‘Nav’ or ‘FEO’. And so the role of the pilot has diminished, offering up numerous manual tasks to onboard computers.

So the role of the pilot evolved to a more managerial position where crews, systems and aircraft are managed. The ‘stick and rudder’ skills became less crucial as autopilots were able to perform the task, freeing up the pilot’s brain-space to oversee the operation and maintain heightened situational awareness. The Captain’s of Ernest Gann’s books letting down on the NDB to the sound of rain thrashing against the fogging windscreen are rapidly becoming something of folklore. Today it is autopilot, auto-coupled and auto-landed and with the technology rapidly flowing downhill into small single pilot operations, the evolution is being witnessed across the full spectrum of aircraft.

Perhaps the most notable impact upon the brotherhood of pilots can be seen in UAVs. Rather than having pilots perched at the sharp end of the aircraft, they are seated at a ground-based console flying the aircraft remotely. Crews can be based in a mobile control van, or seated in a room on the other side of the planet. In any case, they are far removed from their UAV when it is on station and potentially in harm’s way. When the first unmanned Global Hawk flew non-stop from the United States to Australia in 2001, it highlighted that these vehicles had definitely come of age. With a range in excess of 12,000nm, a ceiling of 65,000 feet and an ability to remain aloft for periods in excess of 30 hours, the Global Hawk demonstrated immense potential to survey and gather data or intelligence.

Yet surveillance proved to be only one of many roles suited to the UAVs. No longer merely ‘drones’ these vehicles are able to patrol borders, carry remote sensing equipment relaying information about the atmosphere or flying into the heart of tornadoes where no sane pilot would venture. They possess a potential to transport goods or provide assistance to ‘Search and Rescue’ teams with onboard thermal sensors or cameras. The UAVs may be fixed wing in form, or rotary wing, such as the Northrop Grumman RQ-8A and MQ-8B ‘Fire Scout’. This UAV helicopter was successfully flown from a US naval vessel in 2006 and has been considered in roles as varied as over-horizon-communications to an airborne weapons platform. Bell Helicopters have also ventured down the tilt-rotor path with the ‘Eagle Eye’ which first flew in 1998 and struck a chord with the United States Coast Guard. It seemed that there were few roles and configurations that could not be encompassed by UAVs.

Yet it is in theatres of war that the Unmanned Combat Aerial Vehicles (UCAV) is attracting the most headlines. Heavily armed MQ-1 Predators and more recently MQ-9 Reapers have had an impact on operations in global hot-spots such as Afghanistan and are re-writing the way that warfare is conducted. Carrying sensors and cameras, the UCAV has nasty teeth in the form of ‘Paveway’ laser-guided bombs, ‘Hellfire’ air-to-ground missiles and air-to-air ‘Sidewinders’. Such Remotely Piloted Vehicles (RPV) provide pin-point precision targeting without the need for exposing a pilot or his aircraft to the associated danger.

While UCAVs currently fly alongside piloted combat aircraft, is the day coming when all combat aircraft are unmanned? Northrop Grumman’s X-47 Pegasus project seems to be headed that way. Powered by a single high-bypass turbofan, the X-47 has the ability to fly at “high subsonic” speeds and bears a shape to reduce its radar signature, a little reminiscent of the B-2 bomber. Developed into the X-47B, the new improved UCAV is set to fly this year and has already been dubbed by some as the first nail in the fighter pilot’s coffin. Immune to physiological limitations, G-forces won’t render this aircraft unconscious in a tight turn and there is not a human life in harm’s way.

So is this the future of all aviation; faceless and guided by a remote hand? It is apparent that we are already moving steadily in that direction. The common catch-cry in civil aviation is that passengers won’t board a flight without a human crew ‘up the front’, yet passengers happily commute around Paris on trains that are void of drivers. Culture rather than technology is shaping as the limitation of this brave new world.

In aviation, science fiction has a long history of rapidly evolving into science fact. Whether we see human faith in automation mature to the extent that oceans are crossed without pilots on the flight deck will only be revealed in time. However, we are already seeing unmanned vehicles performing admirably in a diverse range of roles that could once only have been imagined. As their track record grows and their reliability is established, scepticism will slowly be eroded away. How long this will take is yet to be seen, but already there is little doubt that we are witnessing the growth of the ghost in the machine.

Firstly, thanks to everyone who has subscribed, emailed, commented or contacted me. It’s great to receive such feedback so early in the life of the new website.

One comment that has recurred is whether this is an aviation website and blog? The succinct answer is,.....well, yes and no. With such a strong link to aviation through my life thus far, it is inescapable for so many reasons. Not only has it been my prime interest for over forty years, but it was the means by which I have also entered the wonderful world of writing. However, www.owenzupp.com is not purely an aviation website.

From 2012 I will have a number of projects starting up. There is a reprint of an existing book, a new title, a DVD of ‘There and Back’ are just some of the tasks ahead of me. There are also some forays into new fields outside of the spectrum of flight. Amongst these are manuscripts that step away from the theme of my past writings and will not necessarily possess an aviation theme. Similarly, my speaking engagements have not been solely limited to aviation in the past. There have definitely been events where I have spoken about the ‘There and Back’ flight around Australia and such items as the decision-making process in aviation, however, there have been others. There has been interest in what is involved in moving forward after being retrenched, just as I was following the Ansett collapse. There have also been occasions when my experiences in the Ambulance Service have played a central role in discussions.

So, yes and no, www.owenzupp.com does possess an aviation theme, but that is not its limit. There will be a constant flow of varying viewpoints on a range of topics; particularly through the blog. So check back regularly, read the blog and see what’s new. If you get a chance, drop me a line, or sign up for the newsletter as the journey is only just beginning and as always, the more the merrier.

Cheers.

In one of those great moments, I recently took my daughter for her first flight in a light aircraft. Her excitement and sheer joy reminded me of a time 40 years ago when my father had first taken me aloft in a seat that was complemented by a control column instead of a tray table. Yet within that period of my lifetime, the face of aviation security has changed so incredibly that one wonders if the joy is being strangled at the grass roots level of aviation.

My parents told tales of barnstorming pilots landing on local farms and taking folks for their first flight in frail machines with open cockpits. Airfields were far more developed by my childhood, but the ability to interact with ‘planes and pilots was far more common. Airfields were littered with new Pipers, Cessnas and Beechcraft, while DC-3s and Beavers fired up their radials, the Mustangs in civilian garb roared skyward to tow targets for the military. There was all manner of wings to climb upon and instrument panels to gaze at through hands cupped on Perspex.

As long as you paid due respect to taxiways and people’s property, there were basically no limitations upon the budding young aviator. Free to wander and explore, query and question. And those who called the airport their home could not encourage the next generation enough, hoisting them into seats and on occasions taking them for that prized goal; a circuit! A small camera with 12 valued frames of film was standard equipment and the week’s wait for developing was almost too long to bear. The entire experience of a visit to the airport was about as good as it could get for a keen youngster.

And then the events of 11th September 2001 took place and forever changed our world and our industry.

Flying internationally in the months following the attacks, security screening was heightened to a level never seen. When Richard Reid attempted to take an aircraft down with explosive shoes only a month later, footwear became the next target. Less than two years later, Heathrow was the scene of a strong military presence when fears of a ‘surface to air missile’ attack raised their head and we walked through Terminal 4 surrounded by combat ready troops. The scene was not so different in 2006 when the liquids and gels Trans-Atlantic plot was foiled. The postcards of Pan-Am Clippers and bow-tied waiters were long gone, now replaced by the harsh reality of a 21st Century under fire.

These security measures were inevitable, not only to deter those who would attack an aircraft, but to provide some degree of confidence in the industry for those who choose to fly. Undoubtedly there will be further measures in the future as one and all recognise that it is an area of ongoing review where complacency is potentially the greatest weapon. But how has this brave new world affected the next generation of starry-eyed aviators?

At some airfields, easy access has been replaced towering fences and coded security gates. Benches which once offered unobscured views are cordoned off and security vehicles pause and at times question those peering through fences with a telephoto lens. The accessibility of aviation has disappeared for many youngsters and the sterile airline terminal and boarding through a windowless aerobridge is the most that is on offer to many. Is this an environment where the dreams and excitement can be nurtured as they once were?

In the face of these hurdles there is definitely still hope for the next wave of budding aviators and engineers, however, a greater degree of responsibility also rests with those of us who have already taken to the skies and can remember the times before the sky went a darker shade. Programs such as the ‘Young Eagles’ in the United States are growing elsewhere and  offer an opportunity for youngsters to go flying in a general aviation aeroplane free of charge through the generosity of volunteers. Youth organisations around the world such as Air Cadets seek to encourage air-mindedness and offer opportunities for their members to get see aviation at a closer range than is normally available.

While these organisations due a tremendous job, the responsibility doesn’t end with the group; it stays with the individual. As pilots, instructors, owners and engineers staff we should take the time to avail opportunities to those young minds that show an interest in our chosen endeavour of aviation. It may be in the form of organising a school excursion to your airfield, or attending a careers night; it may be even in the form of taking a bright-eyed future aviator for a lap of the airfield. The reality of our times is that these gestures will be less spontaneous and more the subject of procedures and protocol. Accordingly, that will call for a greater degree of organisation and effort, but it is something we must undertake.

Sure, the internet offers images, videos and glimpses of aviation hardware from around the world, but a computer can never impart the true sounds, smells and air-sense that spinning props and popping exhausts bring to life. It is as much about environment as it is imagery.

A failure to encourage those coming through will manifest commercially as a ‘pilot shortage’, but the shortcoming runs much deeper than that; it is the loss of opportunity. Not all those we encourage will pursue aviation as a career or even pursue it as a hobby, but their exposure to aviation and the magic of flight may just set the wheels of imagination and ambition in motion. That one flight may serve to provide a young mind with an insight into why self-discipline is important or how safety is always a consideration. The lesson may just be as simple as someone taking the time out to show an interest.

The headlines will continue to spread gloom about an industry under threat, but that does not mean that there is no room left for a youngster’s dreams. In a world of security fences and metal detectors, we all have the ability to go against the trend and encourage the next generation through aviation.