CamlobeYesterday evening, I returned to home base with a friend after a week spent in St Tropez and Cannes. I took off from Cannes and flew to the North of Marseille, over Orange, Montelimar, past Lyon, Macon, Dijon, Troyes, Reims, St Quentin around Paris, over Albert and Abbeville. Often seen from our height were many, many white crosses, standing brightly, but poignantly, in the beautiful sunlight. As I coasted out over the mouth of the Somme river on this historic day 100 years after Monsuier Bleriot’s epic flight across Le Manche, I paused to contemplate the sacrifice made by so many people of many nations to ensure France regained her rightful freedom, not once, but twice.
My grandfather, a Scotsman who had immigrated to Canada in the early part of the 20th centuary, came with the Canadians during the First World War. As a Leiutenant, he saw action in many battles in France. He was mortally wounded in the Somme, but miraculously survived against all odds.
His injuries prevented his returning to France for the Second World War. But that didn’t stop him being personally responsible for the training of Canadian troops prior to their dispatch for the French battlefields, such was his commitment to help ensure the freedom of France.
My grandfather passed away in 1996 at the respectable age of 101. In all the years I was fortunate enough to know my grandfather, he never once expressed regret at the injuries he suffered, and the restrictions they placed on his later life. He was content that his ‘minor’ contributions had helped the people of France in their times of need.
My own military service was fortunately during a time of peace within Europe. My visitations to France during that time and since have been entirely pleasurable. This is entirely due to the efforts of all those who gave of themselves during two world wars, and I for one, express my gratitude.
Kev, Robbo and Sandra who we read on here, and those we don’t on other forums, I salute you all and look forward to further developments. A common cause unites and brings worthy results. Good luck.
camlobe
Camlobe‘Soviet’ Shacks
Pagen 01,
Sorry, with the passage of time and more snow on the roof, I don’t recall what the receiving station called the Excercise Inject. From our input perspective, the official name was ‘Red Can’.
Oh, oh, is that a Black Omega pulling up…..
camlobe
CamlobeRussian…or maybe not
The posts from WL747, scotavia, and spitfireman took me back a few years.
Shacks with big, red stars on their tails, complete with a couple of Russian-speaking individuals on board dressed in pseudo-Russian flying suits.
Oh, it was fun. Picture the following as an average scenario.
Excercise inject. Defecting Russian aircraft. Arrive with only a few minutes notice. Sometimes slam the brakes on immediately after touchdown, drop a couple of guys off, then taxi down the runway until the way was blocked, usually by big, red fire trucks. Shut the engines down and watch the games begin as the Shack is surrounded by armed ‘panic teams’. Loud shouting on board accompanied by banging and knocking of tins. Observe the confusion outside. After a few minutes, the ‘defectors’ disembark to be met by some poor sod, usually an education officer or similar who did Russian in collage. Explanations of how part of the crew want to return immediately to mother Russia while some wanted to stay. Made more interesting as often the ‘defectors’ would be the only pilots on board, thereby preventing the ‘loyals’ from returning home in their own aircraft. Difficult discussions outside the aircraft while pandamonium inside, while the education officer tries to prevent an escalation of hostilities.
Meanwhile, the ‘drop-off’s’ are…well, did anybody really know where they went and what they got up to? Stories abound over the years. One guy allegedly got as far as in the cockpit of a European F16 parked at the visiting aircraft section before being found out. One guy allegedly managed to get into a Comcen and abduct the Staish. One guy ‘stole’ a Land Rover and drove around the station until it ran out of fuel. But these are only stories, arn’t they?:D
These excercises were part of a different time when escalation of the Cold War was still a very real threat for everyone in Europe, a threat that didn’t really go away until after the Berlin Wall came down in 1989. They were great fun for everyone on board the Shack, but an unwelcomed nightmare for the affected RAF station.
camlobe
CamlobeGraham Adlam wrote:
the second even a 1/4 inch of throttle is applied it missfires backfires and vibrates violenty.
Hi Graham. Don’t know if I can add positivly, but here goes.
When the engine is at idle, the two Zenith carbs are allowing fuel to mix with the air through the slow-running jets. The outlets for these are at the maximum point of manifold depression (at idle), this being near the almost closed throttle butterfly edges (all four in your case if you have retained the Zenith carbs.
If you should have any form of blockage or restriction in the carbs that would reduce or even prevent fuel flow to the main jets, you will introduce an ever increasing weak mixture when opening the throttle. One inoperative carb could also give you similar results, especially as the Zenith carbs are at each end of the ‘V’, thereby potentially giving acceptable mixture at one end of the cylinder banks, but increasingly weak at the other end.
If the mixture becomes too weak to support correct and even combustion, popping, backfiring and misfiring will result. This scenario will also result in considerable vibration (well, it is, after all 27 litres).
I suspect that your mags are fine, and a duff lead or plug would give you perceptable and uneven running, but the other eleven (or ten) cylinders will not allow one or two plugs out to generate a violent vibration.
Sorry I can’t be more helpful. Although I have been fortunate enough to work professionally on Rolls-Royce’s finest aeroengines amongst others, my knowledge of the Meteor is limited. However, a friend has asked me to help him mount one next year. If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to pick your brains deeply before I make a start on his.
In answer to some of the questions raised earlier in the thread, the Meteor does not share the Merlin method of carburation. Instead of a Skinners Union twin-choke updraft feeding into the eye of the supercharger, the Meteor which is unsupercharged, has central air intakes that feed down to a low-mounted inlet manifold that feeds to the bottom of two updraft Zenith carburettors. These are attached to either end of the upper-mounted water-heated inlet manifold that runs the length of the cylinder banks.
camlobe
CamlobeI had the pleasure of meeting Mr Moss of the AAIB a number of years ago. Unfortunately, it was in his professional capacity. His considerate ‘bedside manner’ was greatly appreciated at the time.
As mentioned above, the general condition of the recovered items was eye-opening. Hopefully, the application of preservation fluids will prevent the dreaded corrosion bug from winning.
camlobe
CamlobeBi-fuel Shackletons
WL 745 is quite correct in mentioning the Shack had Water-Methanol injection to supplement ‘normal’ AVGAS, and the controlling switch was installed on the Flight Engineers panel.
The mighty Shack wasn’t unique in being equipped with Water-Meth, the Fokker F27 and the AW Argosy (second version) benefited from the installation of Rolls-Royce Dart engines that were similarly assisted. (My first four-engined ground-run was one of the Argosy’s at Halton – the one with working hydraulics and Water-Meth – eye-opening torque figures).
For those interested, the Shack installation was two 26 gallon tanks mounted in the outboard nacelles, each tank supplying the two engines on their respective wings. The engines were set up to deliver between 18 and 22 pints per minute of Water-Methanol (in a 60-40 mix, 60% de-minerialised water and 40% AL24 Methanol). This would give a theoretical maximum of four and three-quarter minutes, although it rarely exceeded two minutes of use.
The switch to engage the Water-Methanol pumps was ganged to the High-Gear switch for the supercharger, thereby preventing inadvertant use of High-Gear without Water-Methanol above 69″ Hg (Mercury) boost. The boost pressure sensing switches were mounted in the starboard side of the nose.
To give an appreciation of the difference Water-Methanol made to the Shackleton, Take-Off in Low-Gear with the throttle lever to the ‘Gate’ gave 67″ Hg boost (18 pounds of boost over and above atmospheric pressure), resulting in the production of 1960 HP at sea level, and 1990 Hp at full-throttle-height of 2000 ft.
Take-Off in High-Gear with the throttle lever through the ‘Gate’ and Water-Methanol injected gave 2450 Hp at sea level, and 2490 at full-throttle-height of 3000 ft.
So, the overall difference was approximately 8000 Horsepower available for a low-Gear take-off, or approximately 10,000 Horsepower available for a high-Gear take-off. What is another 2000 Hp between friends?
Although these full-throttle-height figures may seem low altitude, bear in mind the Rolls-Royce Griffons (Mk 57, 57A and 58) installed on the Shackletons were purpose-designed as low altitude engines.
As an aside, fuel consumption in Low-Gear at full throttle was 187 gallons per hour. In High-Gear at full throttle, this was reduced to 178 gallons per hour.
Why, you may well ask, was the fuel consumption reduced when the engine was required to produce more power?
Well, Water-Methanol served two purposes. The first and most important reason was as to cool the temperature of the heavily boosted charge at 25 psi over and above atmospheric pressure (i.e. 81″Hg in Shack-speak). The second was to supply fuel. As the Water-Methanol was injected into the eye of the supercharger, the water vapourised and (remembering latent heat of vapourisation) reduced the temperature of the charge from over 100 degrees C to 50 degrees C, thereby preventing detonation. The Methanol, which is a fuel, was then consumed. If the AVGAS fuel injector didn’t lean out the AVGAS, overfueling would have resulted. As a bonus, the Methanol also acted as an anti-freeze for the water. A real win-win situation.
P.S. all the above figures are from an aging memory, therefore my apologies for any inaccuracies.
camlobe
CamlobeThere was a day in the early ’90’s when we had a special guest come around to look at the Lanc. We were advised that he was the only coloured pilot ever to fly Lanc’s during WWII. The gentleman in question was in very high spirits, but was unfortunately confined to a wheel chair, and therefore, unable to clamber up through the fuselage. No problem as a lift platform was prepositioned, and up he went to view the ‘office’ through the P1 window.
Apparently he thoroughly enjoyed his day, and many of us had our eyes opened by this gentleman’s charm and good humour.
With the passage of time, I have forgotten this hero’s name, but now wonder if it was Billy Strachen?
camlobe
CamlobeAre there any ex Shack people out there who remember testing the Petrol driven heaters?Worked ona ram air principle and had a combustion chamber into which petrol was sprayed and ignited and the heat generated was transfered to an outer chamber to heat and distribute the warm air around the cabin .There where two if I remember correctly ,one in the galley and one in the nose and starting them while airborne was an experience.So how much thrust was generated by them?!!!OK tongue in cheek stuff!!I hope they do get one flying ,I will try to be there for the occasion!
In a word, yes.
Your description of the Dragonair combustion heater is spot on. The Dragonair air-to-air heat exchanger heater (model number forgotten in the mist of time) was a very efficient item. It used approximately two gallons of Avgas per hour to generate 100,000 BTU of heat per hour (IIRC). The heater fuel supply was drawn from the aircraft’s main fuel system. There were two spark plugs, each with two earth electrodes. Unfortunately, someone who obviously had never worked on aircraft, designed the heater to be installed with one spark plug at the top and one at the bottom. Needless to say, after a couple of minutes taxying, the debris / stones / leaves etc blown back by the eight props and ingested into the intakes, made their way straight to the bottom plug (the effects of gravity, old boy). Most, but not all, heater starting problems were as a result of this mind-blowing design feature. The spark plugs were energised by a torch ignition system (vibrator booster coils), and only fired during the start cycle. Once running, the heater was self-sustaining (like a blow-torch). The hot exhaust gases were tapped to exit around the heater intake lip, acting as intake anti-icing. No thrust benifits to talk of from this arangement. Access to the heaters was, at best, limited. On the AEW II, the #2 and #4 heaters could be partially accessed from the ASV well as the ASV radar installed on the MR2 was removed as part of the AEW II mod. Still wasn’t easy though. Access to #3 was a nightmare.
The MR2 Phase 3 had four of these heaters fitted as follows (warning – details subject to passage-of-time errors):
#1 in the nose, fed the cockpit area and the nose section
#2 on the port rear side, fed the port fuselage and bomb bay
#3 in the rear fuselage, fed the rear fuselage area
#4 on the starboard side, fed the starboard fuselage and bomb bay
#2 incorporated a fan for ground use
When the MR2 Phase 3’s were converted into AEW II’s, the #1 heater was removed to free up space for the AN/APS 20 radar tray mounted in the forward bomb bay roof area, and to reduce nose weight (the same reason the Low Volts Power Pack was mounted behind the galley). The ducting from the #2 and #4 heaters were modified by closing off bomb bay feeds and extended to feed the cockpit and nose areas.
Why heat the bomb bay on the MR2? Because the torpedo’s carried required cossiting. There, there.
The heater ram intakes for the #2, 3 and 4 heaters were the stainless steel tubes mounted on the fuselage exterior sides behind the bomb bay. The portside #2heater intake was smaller than the starboard intake. Starboard fed #3 and #4. We used to have an adaptor made up to fit to a cabin conditioning trolley to allow ground testing of the #3 and #4 heaters. These intakes burnt all hands, clothes etc that came into contact while heaters were running.
On occasions, the combustion chambers would burn through, slowly filling the cabin with exhaust fumes. A very dangerous situation as the carbon monoxide was not human friendly.
Often, during start, there would be very loud bangs, pops and other, non-engineering type noises that always seemed to be the percurser of doom. Even after all the noises of complaint, the heaters would generally work, and pulse rates would drop back to normal.
Trying to get the heaters to light above 8000 ft was generally considered to be a bit of a challange. More than once, a “sumpy” would lift floor panels and tweek / adjust / swear until the heater would resign itself to work, bringing much needed relief to the frost-bitten crew, flying around in ‘racetrack’ circuits over the North Sea during the bitter winter months.
The heaters were controlled by FCU’s, or Fuel Control Units. These cylinderical units, approximately 10 inches in diameter and about 10 inches long contained three electrically operated solonoids mounted on a manifold ‘tree’. One solonoid was the main fuel on/off. One was the ‘Half-heat’ solonoid. The third was the ‘Full-heat’ solonoid. In January, ‘half-heat’ was never enough.
In the late ’80’s, we were suffering badly from the effects of both the RAF-wide moritorium on everything, and the run-down of Shackleton fleet support. On more than one occasion, I had to requesition from stores unserviceable heater FCU’s. The only reason for this was to canabilise in order to make serviceable units.
The big problem with this was, this was completely against RAF regulations and could easily have led to Court Martial, as we did not have the overhaul manuals, test equipment, or approvals for the maintenance of the FCU’s.
However, the RAF were the ones who didn’t renew the contract for FCU overhaul with civvy street. So, once again I stuck my neck out. I briefed my Chief on what I intended to do, and then proceeded to lock myself in tool stores for an hour or so at a time.
A couple of hours later, voila, serviceable heaters keeping Her Majesty’s Finest aircrew comfortable, enabling them to protect our shores at full efficiency.
Of course, doing ‘in-house’ repairs that wern’t legal meant that no paperwork was raised.
Instant COURT MARTIAL.
SENGO was unofficially briefed in advance, and unofficially supported the ‘make-do-and-mend’ self-sufficiency method, which extended far further than just heater FCU’s. But that, as they say, is another story.
Next time you are flying around in a Piper Seneca, Cessna 421 or similar ‘modern’ piston twin, think twice before you put the heater on. These aircraft use exactly the same type of heating system (remember, think blow-torch!!).
After all, are you really comfortable with the idea of starting a fire on board your aircraft, and then keep feeding it with high octane fuel??
Postfade,
Can’t find a mention of the Phase 3 modifications in your list.
P.S. the ‘racetrack’ mentioned above was the standard AEW II operating pattern and led to the naming of eight Squadron as the “Magic Roundabout” Squadron, each of the aircraft carrying an image of one of the Magic Roundabout characters.
camlobe
CamlobeI wonder if they are seriously contemplating making ’63 airworthy for the purpose of flight?
If so, do you think they would be looking for an experienced Part 145 Chief Engineer who is a Licenced Engineer (BCAR and EASA Part 66) with multiple type ratings including big pistons (radials and V-12’s) and wood-and-fabric, an A&P, and a piston-multi flying licence, who happens to have 8 1/2 years maintenance experience on type?
No, I guess not. But, then again…
Seriously though, if the Vulcan could be made to fly again in UK airspace, then the Shackleton stands the strongest of chances of doing the same. Given sufficient funding, expertise, proficient leadership and correct project management, this can happen if they work WITH the CAA.
I, for one, remain optomistic, and wish them well.
camlobe
CamlobeIt certainly shares a similarity with the triple-choke units on the Griffon 60 series.
camlobe
CamlobeDoug97,
Wik is correct in the given displacement of the Rolls Royce Griffon engine as 2239 Cubic Inches Displacement (CID), which converts to 36.7 litres.
The weight you quote, however, is actually quite variable. For instance, the single-stage, two speed 57, 57A and 58 will weigh considerably less than the two-stage, two-speed, intercooled 60 series. (sorry, exact figures not to hand here in my office, so everything here is from an ageing memory)
Also, although Robert Hilton correctly states a power output of the Griffon as 2500 hp, this was only correct for certain given marks. Some 60 series engines were quoted as having an output of 2350 hp, while the 58 had a maximum of 2490 hp.
The devil being in the detail, the 2350 hp output of the 60 series was at full throttle height with full-speed supercharger (also known as high gear) at high altitude in, for example, Mk XIV Spitfires, while the 2490 hp 58 was at full throttle height in high gear with supplemented water-methanol injection.
Full throttle height in high gear with water meth for the 58 was…..only 3000 ft, the 58 being designed as an ‘LF’ or, low altitude engine. The 60 series were ‘HF’ or high altitude engines.
History Lesson
The Griffon was the last in a long, illustrious line of great Rolls-Royce engines sharing the same displacement that started with the Buzzard (2239 CID), and included the ‘R’ (2239 CID) as installed in the Supermarine S6B. The Griffon was designed before the PV12 (later to become the Merlin – the first engine that almost broke Rolls-Royce) and ran before the Merlin. However, in the mid ’30’s, demand for a 1000 hp engine exceeded demand for another 2000 hp engine (Rolls-Royce were heavy into the Vulture – the second engine that almost broke Rolls-Royce), and the Griffon was set aside for a while. Jeffrey Quill’s blowing the doors off the captured FW 190 while flying the Mk XII Spitfire in front of various officials changed that rather quickly. (This episode also injected new life into the Spitfire, which said officials had considered past its prime.)
The Griffon remained in British front line service for something like 50 years, finally being withdrawn with the Shackleton AEW II in 1991. Is this a record? It is still serving with Her Majesty’s Royal Air Force 75 years after its initial design, modified to RG30SM-S configuration in the Spitfire Mk XIX’s of the BBMF. Is this a record?
The third engine that finally did break Rolls-Royce, albeit in 1971, was the RB211, an engine widely regarded as one of the finest aeroengines ever produced, and so successful that it is still going strong as the Trent series. A few years ago, one RB211 engine had remained on-wing for over seven years and 30,000 hours. This may be a record that will prove hard to beat.
camlobe
CamlobeOne has to ask, is this blade from a propeller once installed on a Decathlon, presently residing approximately 9600 feet up in Nevada?
camlobe
CamlobeWere you aware that there is an ex-Argintinian Huey in the UK as well, and still used regularly by the RAF?
camlobe
CamlobeHello merkle.
The remanent you have appears to be the bottom half of a ‘Gallons gone’ indicator. These instruments didn’t change much over the years in presentation. There are two windows above each other, each with four digit-drums behind, displaying up to 999.9. The labels above and below the windows were either ‘Inner’ and ‘Outer’ or ‘Port’ and ‘Starboard’.
For twin-engined aircraft, you would use ‘Port’ and ‘Stbd’. For four-engined aircraft, it would be ‘Inner’ and ‘Outer’, two being fitted to the aircraft.
Over the years, I have come accross both. What I never realised until your post was the instrument face was reversable. Very sensible. One instrument with reversable face keeps costs down for the end user (or profits up for the manufacturer).
Stirling’s, Lancaster’s, and many, many other types (but AFAIK, not Spitfires) were equipped with these instruments.
Hope this helps.
camlobe
CamlobeHawk XX 227
TyeNoodle,
Thanks for the link. Very well researched and presented. Brought back some memories, both good and not so good.
(thread creep warning)
I was at Valley when the ground ejection happened in 1980, only I remember the aircraft involved being XX167, not XX176 (see below). A good day.
I was at Valley when we lost XX305. A bad day.
I was at Lossie when a rather embarrising incident happened. The Arrows were coming up to us (the Great 8, operators of fine Shackleton aircraft). Problem was, they arrived one short. Story goes, during the free-for-all, make-your-own-way-there transit flight North, one of the Reds got a bit lower than the rest up one of the Scottish valleys. Sgt armourer in the back seat saw and called ‘WIRES’ and banged out. Said wire made a bit of the mess of the fin, but armourer was OK. Depending on who you listened to at the time, apparently, if he hadn’t banged out, the wire may have decapatated him. The pilot then safely landed the aircraft at Dyce (Aberdeen). Fortunately, the seats hadn’t been selected to ‘Command’. A good day.
Looking at the list, I am guessing the aircraft involved was XX227, and the armourer involved was Sgt P.P. Inman.
I would like to hear the story from his perspective.
Also, in the latest Go Flying, Pablo Mason makes a referral to his own midair and subsequent ejection in 1983, which is also listed on the website.
(from above)
I seem to remember it being XX167, an aircraft with a memorable history. IIRC, there was a six month repair at Llanbedr following a nasty birdstrike, followed by a nine month repair at Valley following the aircraft’s collision with the barrier stanction. (the timescales might be the other way around – it was a long time ago)
The ground ejection happened on its first training flight after the long repair at Llanbedr. The aircraft started drifting left, couldn’t be corrected and with the upright barrier left hand stanction appearing ever larger in the windscreen, the instructor initiated a command ejection. Rumour said at the time the instructor called ‘eject, eject, eject’ and pulled, and the student said ‘wha…‘
Following these two long-term major repairs, XX167 had about half the total airframe time of the rest of the training fleet.
During the recovery of the aircraft from the barrier stanction, the Station Crash Officer of the day, a junior engineering officer or Jengo, ordered Chief Tech Wilfred (or Wilf to the rest of us – anyone else rember Wilf) to climb up onto the rear of the Hawk and pass down the now detached rudder. With good reason, Wilf first comfirmed the order from the Jengo, and then preceeded to clamber up and along the rear fuselage while asking the Jengo to stand underneath the tail so Wilf could pass him the rudder. Poor young Jengo didn’t notice everyone else backing away. Dutiful to the end, Wilf did his bit and removed the rudder from its precarious position and then reached fully rearwards to pass the rudder down. As the Jengo grabbed hold of the rudder, he also caught the back end of the tail as the nose lifted clear of the ground. Unlike the Jengo, who had undergone the required Hawk awareness training, the groundcrew were fully aware that a Hawk without bang seats was tail heavy. The only injuries were the Jengo’s bloody nose and a bruised ego. A good day.
As an aside, when XX167 came on line following its protracted repairs at Llanbedr, Valley had run out of black paint. As was the way of RAF procurment, we had to wait some time for more black paint. Many months in fact. You would swear this was fiction, but I can assure you, it is not. Anyway, this meant that the large number on either side of the forward fuselage (in this case 167) which was normally black, had to be left white while awaiting delivery of what was obviously, extremely rare and expensive gloss black paint. Well, as is the way of student pilot crewrooms everywhere, following XX167’s prang into the barrier, panic set in with the students. The cause was positively identified as ‘aircraft with white numbers are definately not safe to fly’. For some months, groundcrew had a good chuckle at the expense of these ‘superstitious’ young student pilots, as more and more aircraft came out of the paintshop with white numbers. I seem to remember XX243 pranged the wing while taxying (another six month repair necessitating a wing replacement) and that had white numbers at the time. Hmm…
Apologies for the blatent thread creep.
Oh, by the way, it is the MIRA test track, but you knew that.
camlobe
Sign In
