Avid Aviator – The
Workshop Months…
The first two articles
in this series dealt with the purchase of JHW and some of the events involved in learning to own and fly it (at
least the more seemly tales). In this, the third of four, I’ll go through the
rebuild with you – a process that covered about 10 months and approximately 700
hours. The ONLY way I managed was with the total support of my lovely wife
Judith, who took over nearly all aspects of moving the family around, defended
the phone and put up with me coming to bed long after she was asleep. She
allowed me nearly uninterrupted time in the workshop and tolerated the various
courier parcels and VISA attacks. They don’t come any better than the girl from
Buckland!
A main advantage was
the target of Easter and the Richard Pearce fly-in. I didn’t make it of course,
but a target is good for motivation, and a tangible
end point for the missus. As events transpired I was close to a flyable
rebuild, but as the time drew near, it became obvious that JHW might be made
flyable, but at the price of too many compromises in terms of less complete
finish and minimal systems. I wasn’t prepared to get so far and not do the job
correctly, so I slowed down and accepted a longer time line. My only lasting
regret is that I had talked with Red Sussmilch about
heading down with him in the Kolb and me in our Challenger. I decided against
it and missed a trip with a good friend, and now Red is gone – I’d really
wanted to take him in the Avid. Bugger. I miss him.
JHW had been flown a
total of 75 hours when I bought her. By early November, some 8 months later,
I’d added 47 hours to that, and as per the original plan, I drove to Foxton with my Nieuport fuselage on
the trailer which I left in #8 hangar, folded the wings on JHW, loaded her, and
proceeded home.
I swear that there was
a northbound heavy truck lying in wait for every bridge between Foxton and Tawa. I was really glad to get home. I phoned my good
friend Keith Elliot, a fellow R/C soaring enthusiast, and together we removed
the wings, having found that the folded configuration was exactly the same
width as our garage doors.
By
The first night home – lotsa
bits, little room!!
I looked at the now imposing task in front of
me, and before I went to bed, removed the spinner and prop. I vowed to do make
positive progress each day, even if it was just ordering parts. Whatever it
was, it had to advance the reassembly. That was another excellent decision. It
was hard to stick to at times, but critical to progress, and to my own self
esteem with regard to the task. If you are building, or rebuilding, it would be
the single most important bit of advice I could give you.
Assessment
The first task was to assess how much needed
to be done, and where, then rough out a plan of action in terms of sequence and
parts ordering.
Wings
Nice easy decision – a
new drain vent in each tank, and second air vent, tidy up, fix a couple of
minor bits of hangar rash, and repaint. I might even get time to put in nav lights – the wire was there, but there was no clue
where it was at the tip.
Struts
Meduim amount of work needed. The LE of most struts
showed rust colour , indicating that moisture had been driven through the
fabric. They would have to be stripped back assessed and either repaired or
replaced.
Tail
Basically
OK, needing similar treatment to the wing.
Engine
Running well, and the oil analysis from Goughs
was OK, so no major plans there. The choke circuit was crude (rope in the
cockpit control to enable a hard enough pull) and the throttle friction lock
was a joke. That would need replacing. I intended extending the exhaust well
aft of the cockpit, like the old Auster system
Undercart
Rather oily and some
rust. I’d already decide to fair the main legs properly, and also the frame
that sits across the bottom of the fuselage. New brake cylinder inserts would
be added to increase braking power.
Fuselage
A major job. The whole
cockpit will need a rebuild, as the panel layout was poor, and the wiring
forward of the panel was a rats nest, with no labels, a mix of house wire and
odds and ends, a fuse panel with exposed brass buss bars (35 amp fuse for the
instruments!!!). The cockpit floor had
carpet on it that showed signs of brake fluid, and the controls needed TLC in
order to return to design specs. One problem I’d found and fixed early on was
that the throttle cable kinked at ¾ throttle, limiting takeoff power. This was
due to overspray binding up the thimbles on the quadrant. The elevator trim was
very difficult to move more than a few degrees, and the two fuel taps
unreachable in flight. The Lexan windows were all badly scratched, and the
pilots’ side door window had been damaged by a fuel spill, and was held
together with aluminium tape. The area behind the
seat, where the aileron/flap mixer was, was open, and so could conceivably
collect any loose object bounced out of the locker in rough air, so it would
need covering in.
I decided to powder
coat the controls and door frames, as they were all scratched and worn. In
order to reduce cabin noise a lining of self adhesive foam rubber , backed with
aluminium foil would be installed from the firewall
back as far as the locker. I was lucky that Peter Hancox, a heating and
ventilating engineer, (see episode 1) could supply me with exactly the right
stuff for the job – 6 mm blue foam/ali foil backed.
The carpet would be
replaced with Autex static and fire resistant
product, and the seat recovered in leather to match the trim paint.
I wanted to store the
wing fold kit in the plane, as if I ever need it, it’s likely to be while stuck
at another airfield, so there is no point keeping the struts and pins in my
hangar. The locker door needed a limit wire, and the locker needed lining.
Panel
This was a total
rebuild in order to get the correct instruments in the correct places, install
a GPS and radio, comms and transponder.
Why all the technical
stuff???
I’d been a diehard
NORDO pilot nealy all my flying life, but remember,
I’d decided to improve my skills, I was now at Fielding, in busy airspace, and
I want to go places in JHW, more than fly around the patch. Besides, I like my
toys!!
The final panel, airborne, Nov 03
Panel layout
Here is a topic that
always raises discussion and often strong opinion. I started out with a general
concept, made a fake panel with photocopied instruments, and then pestered all
and sundry for several weeks prior to firming up the design.
In essence
Far
left – engine start - key, master
switch and choke. Space underneath for various switches.
Mid
left – ASI and ball at the top , just below the pilots’ line of sight, then
altimeter vario and tach
(yes I know its an engine instrument, but I prefer it right in front of me
Centre (vertically)
Radio , Transponder and comms
Mid Right – at the top, just below the line of sight of
the passenger, another ball, to eliminate parallax error from trying to use the
one on the pilots’ side. - systems instruments – oil and water temp, EHT and
oil pressure,
Far Right -
Below Centre
Throttle, carb heat and main fuel switch.
Pulling it to Bits
The first weekend was
spent rearranging the workshop , removing the engine and positioning the
fuselage on the main workbench to allow disassembly. The wings were hung from
the ceiling and struts detached and stood up out of the road..
A really smooth move was to buy a couple of
boxes of zip lock plastic bags, one about A5 size and one A4 size. As hardware and fittings were
removed, I took (digital) photos of the assembly “before” (for reference when
reassembling), and put the bits in bags that were IMMEDIATELY labeled with
Vivid marker – eg “starboard wing attach nuts and
bolts” etc and put in the fuselage locker. Soon the ever growing pile of
plastic bags was matched with a pile of bits on the main bench ready for repair
and repaint. It was a hell of a mess, but an organized mess nevertheless. 
Peter Dunning, not impressed with the original
random wiring
About this time I was
interrupted in my work by the need to mark exams – that was going to earn the
money to buy the transponder – but this became both my motivation and
rationalization of “positive progress each day”. Not much happened for the next
three weeks. Finally I was clear of marking, and back to the workshop with a
vengeance, Tools and parts flew in all directions, and list on the clipboard grew longer and longer.
I found all sorts of little “extras”.
The underneath of the fuselage was
rough and unfinished – dope sprayed on like sandpaper, the underneath of the
cabin was only 016 ali, and fitted where the ripples
touched.
As I disassembled the
cabin floor, the extent of the brake fluid leak became obvious, as well as the
assembly sequence, which must have started on one side and then worked across
to the other, so that parts of the inner and outer surfaces were locked together,
or fastened so that nuts were inaccessible without major surgery in the other
layer. It was evident that a major rethink was required.
The firewall was as
per kit, but rather thin and flexible with grey foam rubber glued on, but not
finished. The recess for the rudder pedals was barely adequate, and the brake
arms had dented the firewall on full travel
(I’ll bet some of that was my early attempts at keeping the pointy bit
facing forward)
I also found that the
cowl needed replacement Camlocs in a couple of
places, and I wanted to put an access hatch in the top of the cowl to allow a
check of the coolant without having to remove the whole top panel.
Major disassembly time – many bits and bags
Paint
This was the other
major and took some thinking about. The
finish on JHW was simply two coats of silver dope, with the registration
letters brush painted on. Some months previously I’d given my kids three views of the plane and asked them to colour in the pictures as they would like. This gave me a few
leads on ideas, as well as a few to avoid. In the end I settled for a scheme
similar to that used on many of the Monocoupes
pictured in Sport Aviation, because a strut braced taildragger is an older type
of design, and a racy “composite airframe” colour
scheme would look out of place. I like the red scallop/white background scheme,
and the cowl was going to have a dark top to reduce glare. I think that some of
the mid 1930’s art deco combinations would look good too. I stuck with red
white and blue because of the paint system I’d decided on.
The main issue here
was what would stick to the dope, and something I could apply myself. My local
car painter estimated $4000 plus to paint the plane, with little knowledge of
compatibility of the paint systems. This was too pricey and so joined my list
of compromises/tradeoffs – I’d have to spray the plane, but I’d never
spray painted any more than an R/C model, and so decided to steer clear of colour mixing, or exotic and toxic stuff like 2 pot isocyanates. These
are too dangerous for an amateur in a garage, and dope would be great, but at
about US$ 90 per 5 gal, very pricy, as was Aerothane.
In the end, I tried painting the rudder with
International Brightside marine single pot paint. It worked really well. I set
up my newly acquired 2nd hand
compressor , mixed the paint with the requisite thinners, and started. Within
15 seconds the workshop was below VFR minima and my rudder was dripping white
undercoat over the parts on the bench. As the stream of spray hit it, the
rudder, carefully suspended from the hinges, flopped around and deflected
blasts of white mist in all directions. Tube, tools, magazines and radio - none were spared.
At about this time it
occurred to my tiny and now contaminated brain cell that perhaps a little less
pressure and easing off on the paint flow setting might help. The second coat
took at least 27 seconds to fill the double garage and workshop with a
second CB (Cumulus Brightside).
The
patriotic cowl, and 1902 Gazette source
My kids were
complaining, and dearly beloved was
heard to enquire if I really enjoyed the thought of life as a single
parent.
A decision was needed.
I’m good at that. I decided to turn one side of the garage into a spray booth.
Off I went to
warehouse and in the garden found a 1m wide roll of translucent plastic that
unfolded into 2 m wide. The helpful assistant decided that the only way to
measure it was to unroll the whole lot down the isle and measure it with a 1 m
ruler. As we did so, other customers walked through and discovered new and
exciting things as the nearly frictionless plastic sandwich had them skating an
staggering within seconds. No serious injuries ensued and I scuttled out
rapidly with my kitset spray booth before anyone had time to complain to the
manager.
Back home, I realized
I’d now have to move the wings from the ceiling, make cradles for them, and
move the fuselage from the bench to the other half of the garage, otherwise the
spray tent would block it in. With the help of Keith, Roger and Pete, we played
“musical airframes” and rearranged everything. I made a tent structure using
the old spars and struts from a Bantam
and draped it with the plastic, which was then taped into position and the
bottom edges held down with pavers. Two holes through the “roof” allowed ropes
to hang a final spar that would support the wings when their turn came. 
Spraying finished , still fitting out
Pete Randerson, another modeling friend, kindly removed his semi
permanent spray installation, and loaned it to me, along with a full flow face
mask, so I could spray without suffocation. Soon the house was resonating to
the tune of two compressors cutting in and out as more CB’s were generated in
the tent, and only a gentle mist leaked out the corners. This went on for about
6 weeks. As usual with painting, surface preparation is everything, and I make
a few mistakes, but learned fast. To get the dope and Brightside to anchor, I
first cleaned all the dust and crud off, then wiped down the dope with lacquer
thinners, very wet, so the dope went tacky. Then I sprayed undercoat on while
the dope was tacky, and waited 24 hrs for it to dry. Two coats of undercoat,
and then two coats of top coat, each at 90 deg to the previous, and for each
layer, the edges were done first, as it is easy to go too light at the edge of
a spray pass.
All the white was done
first, then red and finally blue. Judith and Annelise helped with the masking,
especially on the wing. We had to use low tack tape or the paint would lift. We
used butcher paper for the main coverage. 
Wings and struts together again
While the fuselage was
in its’ rotisserie cradle, I replaced the bottom surface under the cockpit,
fairing it in carefully to the U/C frame, and also faired the MG legs with foam
and 1mm ply, to reduce drag and look nice. I took the opportunity to fit blind
nuts for all the cockpit floor fittings for ease of reconstruction and any
later servicing.
Under the nose – new fairings and long exhaust
Soon the wings were in
the tent, and the fus, now on the MG was gradually
fitted out, starting with the elevator trim. This was poorly modified from the
plan, and had bound up due to inadequate cable clearances and different moments
between the drive bellcrank and elevator horns - an
easy fix for any R/C modeller.
The new ply floor, Autex carpet and powdercoated controls were refitted, followed by the new
panel. We had taken mold from the the old panel, and
vacuum-bagged a new one using 4 plies of 6 oz glass cloth. It came out great.
The cardboard replica panel had served it’s purpose well, so soon the hole
drill was busy. Peter Dunning had drawn up a circuit diagram, and over the next month, I gradually wired up
everything using Tefzel wire and plenty of labels.
Automotive fuses were installed in two busses, main and essential. In the event
of electrical problems, a single switch takes power to essential instruments
and comms, independent of the main power supply.
Peter Hancox folded up
a new firewall, and soon the engine was re-installed, Tony Roberts having spent a long evening threading the
mounts through all the plumbing. The mounts and muffler had been sandblasted to
remove rust and then suitably “corrosion-proofed” prior to re-installation.
New SCAT tubing was
fitted and the control runs linked up. Now I could sit in the cockpit and make
flying noises.
The Microair transponder duly arrived and was installed, and
the ELT installed with an internal antenna behind the locker.
I must mention the
doors. I took them off early on in the rebuild after too many gouges in my head
from the catch. John Varley (owner of Avid RWT) has
been a real help with all sorts of bits, and I asked him to drill off the Lexan
on the doors. Within 5 minutes, he’d removed the lower ali
panels as well!!! Oh well – I’d just rivet them back on. The more I thought
about it , the more I liked the idea of full lexan doors – thanks John, great
idea!! (subsequent flying has confirmed how great they are). When putting the top part over the bottom, I
discovered that Lexan will fold like ali, and it
tolerated a reversed curve without spronging in the
wrong direction – a true property of plastic substances. 
John Varley – expert Lexan operator
There were many small
details to attend to, that occupied evenings and weekends, and finally, the
Lexan for the main cabin. I’d been dreading it, but in the end the job was
easy, and took John and I an afternoon to complete. In essence – remove the
old, lay it over the new sheet, draw around and then drill and cleco several rivet holes then drill the rest and cut it
all out. The rest was simple, and we were soon riveting it on. What a
difference! The new Lexan made even the rebuild seem newer. It cost $110 for a
sheet of 1.5mm, and that did everything – doors, cabin and fuselage.
I’d made up a hardware
list from the bits in the plastic bags, and now had a pleasing pile of empty
hardware bags, and shiny new cad plated nuts and bolts around the airframe. I’d
made a mistake of one number on the code for hinge pins, and had to send them back
because the diameter was too great. The replacements were welcome - $1.40 each
instead of $11.80 ea. Over 10 pins, that was a lot!!
Three of the four stooges,
Roger Dixon, me and John Varley, mid rebuild.
The flaperons were rebalanced (to allow for the paint mass) and
a call to Aviation Radio in
By now I’d had Rex
Kenny round to look over the plane, and of course the regular
Thanks to all of you –
your involvement has made a real difference to the whole project.
I’d now got to the
point of returning JHW to the air. During the year, I’d joined the Manawatu
Microlight Club, and had arranged for hangarage
at Fielding in Paul Svendsens’ hangar. Once again I borrowed a car, hitched on
the trailer and took my pride and joy for a drive.
The
fourth stooge, Peter Dunning on right ;-)
This time the road was
mercifully free of large trucks, and we arrived at Fielding late in the
afternoon, with just enough time to unfold the wings, take a picture or two and
put JHW in her new hangar. Little did I realize, (4th of August) it would be nearly 10 weeks
before weather and circumstance would finally allow me to fly her.
Next issue – Airborne
at last!
