Didn’t the Typhoon have some serious tailcone-weakness problems? Certainly, if so, they wouldn’t have carried the same tailcone forward to a new design.

Isn’t that Gannet currently under a refurbishment/servicing to re-fly?

Ernie Gann’s “Fate Is the Hunter”–MUCH better than his fiction–and Guy Murchie’s “Song of the Sky,” perhaps the most neglected of all great aviation books.

Oh, and by the way, you Brits, there actually is more to aviation than endless Spitfires and one more recounting of the Battle of Britain.

I’m guessing, but it looks as though it’s a typical flush-fitting aircraft fuel cap, which of course means it’s aerodynamically clean and flush with the wing when fitted and locked closed. There would be absolutely no reason for any ground vehicle to have a flush-fitting fuel cap, since it’s sole advantage is an aerodynamic, drag-reducing one. Disadvantages for a ground vehicle would include extra cost to manufacture and slightly more cumbersome to use. Also looks to be made of aluminum–yes, I’m American–which would be an unnecessary frill for anything but a racecar.

So my guess is it must be from an aircraft.

By the way, I’ve always been amused that we insist on spelling it “aluminum.” So why don’t we spell potassium potassum and chromium chromum?

I have a friend, here in the U.S., who did much like what you’re looking to do. He put a small turbine into a four-wheeler–an ATV. His name is John Carnett, and he wrote about it a year or two ago for Popular Science magazine, where he’s on staff. I’m sure you can find the article on line.

I can put you in touch with him, if you contact me directly at [email]stephwilkinson@verizon.net[/email].

Basically, what he did was find a unit from a Hughes 500 helo, as I remember, that ran just fine but had been declared unairworthy because of some overtemp or overrev condition. It was therefore worthless to the owner, in a sense, unless the rare buyer with a use like John’s could be found, and the purchase price was quite reasonable, at least for a turboshaft engine the size of a very small suitcase in running condition.

“I think someone’s been having some fun with you…”

The Corky Fornof incident is extremely well-documented, by a variety of newspaper and TV teams that quickly went to the scene as soon as a few phone calls were made, and is quite well-known among U. S. aviation people, though apparently it didn’t make it to the UK. Say “Corky Fornof” to just about any pilot in the U. S. and they’ll either respond “Bearcat” or “that Interstate landing.”

A little very primitive searching should turn up for you a number of news reports and photographs, I should think.

And yes, the incident was in effect reproduced for the Bond film, since it predated the film.

The Octopussy airplane was the BD-5J microjet. I recently interviewed its pilot/owner, Corky Fornof, for an Aviation History magazine article I did, “The 10 Best Emergency Landings.”

Corky was flying the BD from South Carolina to DC, IFR, when he lost all oil pressure on the Turbomeca engine over North Carolina. He shut it down, deadsticked down through the clouds and found himself over an Interstate highway.

He landed on the highway, engine out, after gliding down abeam a pickup truck and signalling the driver to slow and let him touch down in front of him, which the pickup driver very coolly did, as though having a tiny jet appear off his left side at about 10 feet of altitude was something that happened every day.

Corky touched down and rolled toward an exit ramp and had enough inertia to take the exit, roll down it, and roll into the ramp of a gas station. He literally rolled across the little pneumatic hose that ran a ding-ding signal inside the garage so the attendant knew someone had shown up at the pumps.

Guy walked out, wiping his hands on an oily rag, and Corky threw back the canopy and said, “Fill ‘er up, please.”

Corky told me the attendant looked at him for about 15 seconds and then said, “Is this Candid Camera?”