Cierva C.4 Autogiro Replica Flies in Spain

Hello.  Yes, it's me again, begging forgiveness once more for allowing six months to elapse between posts!  I have been a bad blogger and there is no excuse.  I could blame my new forum for taking up more of my time than I anticipated, or just life getting in the way, but I shan't because we all have different calls upon our time and I dare say I could have made more space for this dear old blog.  Anyway, we'll cast a veil over all that, I think, and get back to the fun business of writing about interesting vintage-themed news (and goodness knows we need that more than ever, I should think).  Something that should be even easier for me now having recently splashed out on a new PC (the laptop was all very well and has provided sterling service for the last seven years, but there is still something to be said for a desktop setup especially when writing like this) - there can really be no excuse for not posting more often now (he says)! 

Without further ado, then, I'll take us back to the beginning of 2023 for this first story about a machine close to my heart - the autogiro. 

Cierva C.4 Autogiro Replica Flies in Spain

Last year marked the centenary of the first flight of the autogiro, the brainchild of Spanish engineer Juan de la Cierva and the precursor to all modern helicopters.  After several abortive designs his C.4 autogiro made a controlled ascent at the Getafe aerodrome near Madrid on the 17th January 1923 in the hands of experienced test pilot Captain Alejandro Gómez Spencer.  

source - Wikipedia 

Cierva autogiros would go on to be developed throughout the '20s and '30s, regularly being touted as the next big advance in aviation before reaching something of a technological dead-end by the start of the Second World War, after which advancements in vertical take-off heralded the beginning of the helicopter and relegated the autogiro to that of a light, leisure aircraft (now known as the gyrocopter).  You can read more about the history of Cierva autogiros in this article I wrote for In Retrospect magazine a few years back.

Now, however, I'm delighted to see that a group of Spanish aviation enthusiasts have put the finishing touches to a full-scale flying replica of that first C.4, the maiden flight of which took place once again at Getafe aerodrome (where it will be operated by the Club de Ultraligeros Getafe) back in April 2023 - a fitting tribute to Juan de la Cierva, Captain Gomez and the history not only of the autogiro but of early Spanish aviation in general.  What a wonderful sight it is to see one of these fantastic machines take to the air once more!

Spitfire flight over Southampton marks 80th anniversary

Spitfire flight over Southampton marks 80th anniversary

Can it really have been five years since I last wrote about the anniversary of the Supermarine Spitfire's first flight?!  Well, here we are again, and now even more unbelievably this beautiful and historic aircraft - perhaps the greatest aeroplane ever built - is an incredible 80 years old.

To celebrate this remarkable milestone two Spitfires have once again performed flypasts over the Solent on the Hampshire coastline, taking in all the sites that played a part in this fantastic machine's conception - the former Supermarine factory in Southampton where the Spitfire was designed and built, Southampton Aerodrome from which the prototype K5054 took off on that March day eight decades ago, and the grave of its creator, R.J. Mitchell.  



It would be going over old ground for me to tell (briefly) the story of the Spitfire's conception, so suffice it to say it's good to see this anniversary marked and the reverence in which this aircraft is still held.  One would have hoped for slightly more in the way of celebration perhaps, but maybe we'll have to wait for the 90th or 100th anniversaries to see something really special.  With luck we'll see these and many more; let's hope that the 50-odd airworthy examples will continue to be so for decades to come - the ultimate testament to this glorious piece of aviation design.

Now I'm off to watch First Of The Few!

Amelia Earhart mystery – 1937 photograph could be clue to her fate

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Amelia Earhart mystery – 1937 photograph could be clue to her fate 

Back in June of 2013 I blogged about the news of the latest evidence pointing to the popular theory regarding the disappearance of noted aviatrix Amelia Earhart and her co-pilot Fred Noonan during their attempted around-the-world flight in 1937.  This theory has it that Earhart and Noonan missed their scheduled refuelling stop at the tiny (< 1 mile square) Howland Island in the Pacific Ocean and flew on in their twin-engined Lockheed Electra until forced to come down on one of a group of then-uninhabited atolls known as the Phoenix Islands - probably the larger Gardner Island (now known as Nikumaroro).

source - Daily Mirror

This hypothesis is by no means a recent one - Gardner Island was identified as a potential emergency landing ground almost immediately after the Electra's disappearance and reconnaissance flights were made over the atoll during the initial two-week official search, with pilots noting "signs of recent habitation" but no "answering wave from possible inhabitants" when they zoomed low over the rocks.  Later private searches including around the Phoenix Islands produced no evidence of pilots or machine and their ultimate fate has been the subject of investigations and conspiracy theories for three-quarters of a century.

The International Group for Historic Aircraft Recovery (TIGHER) - a non-profit organisation founded in 1985 for "aviation archaeology and historic preservation" - have been pursuing the Gardner Island theory for several years now, culminating in last year's expedition to Nikumaroro where sonar scans of the surrounding sea bed threw up an odd shadow 600ft below the waves that could be the remains of the Electra.

Piece of metal may offer clue to disappearance of Amelia Earhart's plane

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Now TIGHER are following up another lead with the discovery of a previously unknown photograph (which can be seen in the original Miami Herald article) of Earhart's Lockheed Electra at Miami Municipal Airport on the 1st June 1937, shortly before take-off for the next stint of the journey to Puerto Rico.  In it, a detail not seen in any other photo of the time - a sheet of metal covering what would previously have been a window.  More intriguingly, no record of this repair exists among all the documentation linked to Earhart's flight.

Among the many artefacts that TIGHAR have brought back from Nikumaroro - which include a 1930s-style woman's shoe (similar to ones worn by Earhart), bearings & tools, metal zips and pieces of Plexiglas almost identical in shape and design to that used on the Electra - is a section of aluminium panel bearing 1930s construction techniques.  It is this piece of metal that researchers are now closely comparing to a computer-enhanced blow-up of this never-before-seen image in the hope that they can match the rivet patterns and so prove beyond doubt that Earhart and Noonan did not crash into the Pacific Ocean but did indeed make it to Gardner Island, where they may have even survived for a time before succumbing to starvation and exposure.

If it can be proved that the aluminium panel seen in this new picture matches the piece recovered from Nikumaroro then it must surely settle beyond doubt one of the most enduring mysteries in aviation history - one that has remained unsolved for 77 years.  While this would not be the first bit of tangible evidence suggesting the Electra landed on Gardner Island, and with the Pacific Ocean ditch still a possibility, if the rivet patterns do match it will - taken with the other items found - be as conclusive as possible proof that the last resting place of Amelia Earhart, one of the greatest women pilots of the 20th century, has been found.  I for one certainly look forward to finding out!

An imperial airliner - soon to fly again?

Back in March 2012 I did a post about a proposed new supersonic airliner that was essentially a biplane, the design having two sets of wings set one above the other.  Other than this link to an historic aircraft design the article mentioned was more along the lines of the type I used to include in the early days of this blog when I posted about anything and everything that interested me.  To give it the more vintage bent that this blog is now known for, I added a little bit of history regarding the fast biplanes and biplane airliners of the 1930s.  One of these was the Handley Page H.P.42.

The H.P.42 was born out of an Imperial Airways (the ancestor of British Airways) specification of 1928, intended to supplement their existing fleet of 3-engined Armstrong Whitworth Argosy airliners (also mentioned in my earlier post).  Handley Page's winning design was for a giant all-metal biplane with four Brisol Jupiter engines - two on the upper wings and two mounted on the lower wings next to the fuselage.  Two variants were produced - the H.P.42E (for the eastern routes to India and Australia) and the H.P.42W (for western routes to Europe).  The former seated up to 24 with extra baggage room for air mail, the latter 38.  Unlike the Argosy the cockpit was also enclosed - a first for a large airliner.  Imperial Airways felt its passengers valued comfort over speed so despite having around 500bhp per engine, the H.P.42's maximum speed was a sedate 120mph and its cruising speed a mere 100mph.  This led to commentators of the time noting that it was "as steady as the Rock of Gibraltar - and about as fast" and had "built-in headwinds"!  Indeed any substantial headwind encountered by an H.P.42 would invariably lower its cruising speed to 90mph, requiring extra refuelling stops particularly on the long-distance routes.

Handley Page H.P.42 G-AAUD Hanno at Semakh, Palestine, October 1931.
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The aircraft's first flight was just over 83 years ago, on the 14th November 1930.  Clearance for commercial operation was given in May 1931 and the first passenger flight was undertaken on the 11th June 1931, from Croydon to Paris.  Eight H.P.42s were ultimately built and each was given a name,  beginning with 'H', from ancient British and Roman history or Greek mythology (can't see BA doing that today, can you?).  Hence there was Hannibal, Hanno, Hadrian, Horsa, Heracles, Horatius, Helena and Hengist.  For the next nine years they would ply the airways between London, Europe and the furthest reaches of the British Empire - suffering absolutely no serious accidents, an unheard of feat for aircraft of the time.  They were involved in only 4 incidents in their civilian lifetimes.  Hannibal had to force land in a field in Kent when its port lower engine failed, sending debris into the port upper engine.  Landing on two engines only, a tree trunk ripped off the tail and one wing and another engine were also damaged, but there were miraculously no serious injuries.  Horatius was struck by lightning in 1937 resulting in minor damage to one wing and also force-landed in Kent in 1938 causing damage to the undercarriage and one wing.  Hengist was destroyed in a hanger fire in Karachi in 1938 but the aircraft was empty and no lives were lost.

Refuelling Hanno at Samakh, Tiberias, Palestine, October 1931
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The remaining aircraft were all pressed into RAF service on the outbreak of the Second World War.  Sadly none of them survived the conflict (although not for the reasons you might think), all of them apart from Helena being lost within one year.  Hannibal disappeared in mysterious circumstances over the Gulf of Oman on the 1st March 1940 - no sign of the aircraft or its passengers/contents has ever been found.  Horsa was burned beyond repair after a forced landing in Cumberland on the 7th August 1940.  Hanno and Heracles were both destroyed in one fell swoop when they were blown together during a gale at Bristol Airport on the 19th March 1940.  Hadrian was similarly wrecked in a gale at Doncaster Airport on the 6th December 1940.  Horatius had already been written off in another forced landing in Devon on the 7th November 1939.  Helena managed to survive until the end of 1940 but after a particularly hard landing an inspection showed irreparable corrosion had set in and it was scrapped in 1941.

Why am I telling you all this, apart from the fact that it is interesting (at least, I think it is and hope you do to)?  Well, last weekend I received a welcome surprise in the form of a comment on that earlier post from a member of Team Merlin, who it seems are actively undertaking to not only create a museum about Imperial Airways but also to build a full-size replica of the massive H.P.42 airliner!  (They're also based in a beautiful aviation-themed pub in deepest Wiltshire, I note).  I couldn't let such an interesting comment get lost in the archives, so here we are.  Wouldn't it be amazing to see one of these behemoths in the air again?  What a remarkable homage it would be to Imperial Airways' H.P42s and those early days of civil aviation.  Can such a (literally) huge undertaking be accomplished?  Your guess is as good as mine, but if a replica can be built of the Vickers Vimy bomber that flew non-stop across the Atlantic in 1919 then anything's possible.  I shall keep an eye out for their PR campaign next year with interest and - who knows? - maybe another eye out for a flying H.P.42 not long after that.

Knit for Britain from Above

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Knit for Britain from Above 

Returning to another series of articles that previously appeared on Eclectic Ephemera you may recall the posts from 2011 and 2012 about the creation of the wonderful online history resource Britain From Above, which aims to catalogue and digitise over 90,000 aerial photographs of Britain taken between 1919 and 1953.  By the sounds of things the project is going well and all 95,000 images should be available at the end of the 4-year project, in 2014.  It really is a fascinating site and I urge you all to check it out if you haven't already.

Now I see that the Britain From Above people have this week started a jolly little wheeze that should appeal to the [many] knitters who I know make up my readership.  I have to say I didn't realise that it was World-Wide Knit In Public Week (I have to admit I sometimes think these things are thought up on the spur of the moment by people with a vested interest and too much time on their hands - I mean, National Sausage Week, really?!) but hurrah nonetheless.  Although I'm sure those of you who do knit do so in public any day of the year here's an opportunity to have a bit of fun and get a bit involved in the Britain From Above project.

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The team behind the site invite you to knit an aeroplane (they even helpfully provide a pattern if you don't have one of your own) and then, finding an historic aerial photo of an area near you, take a snap of your knitted aircraft in the same spot and post it on the website.  It sounds like a splendid way to get out and about and, as the site says, "showcase your knitting skills and find out more about the history of the place you live in".  Not to mention raising the profile of the Britain From Above project a notch or two in a wonderfully clever way.

So how about it, then?  Any knitting-wizards out there fancy knocking up a little flying machine and maybe taking a pic or two?  If anyone does have a go, do let me know on here!

Wreckage of Amelia Earhart plane may be found

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Pacific sonar 'streak' may be wreck of Amelia Earhart's plane

Many online news sources both here and in America were abuzz a little over a week ago with the latest possibility in the ongoing search for wreckage or other evidence of pioneer aviatrix Amelia Earhart's Lockheed Electra, which vanished seemingly without a trace during her (and navigator Fred Noonan's) attempted around-the-world flight on the 2nd July 1937.

Amelia Earhart's remarkable achievements and the rightful fame they earned her have meant that her name continues to resonate throughout history and her mysterious disappearance somewhere between Australia and the Hawaiian islands 76 years ago has ensured that she - and her ultimate fate - is still discussed to this day.

What happened to Earhart, Noonan and their aircraft on that day in 1937 has been the subject of innumerable theories - conspiratorial or otherwise - over the years.  The prevailing theory is that they missed their refuelling stop of Howland Island - a mere speck in the Pacific Ocean less than one square mile in size, ran out of fuel and crashed either into the sea or on one of the eight atolls and coral reefs that make up the nearby Phoenix Islands group.

Unexplained shadow 600ft under Pacific could be Amelia Earhart’s missing plane

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If they ditched in the open sea it is very likely that anything in the way of mechanical or human remains will ever be found, particularly as in some areas - even close to the islands - the water reaches a depth of 23,000ft.  However since around 2007 one group of aviation researchers, The International Group for Historic Aircraft Recovery, have been actively investigating the theory that Earhart and Noonan made it to (or close to) Nikumaroro (also known as Gardner Island) where they may even have survived for several weeks before perishing.

In those six years TIGHAR have made several fascinating but ultimately inconclusive discoveries on or around Nikumararo, including tools and metalwork that may have come from the Electra, clothing and products associated with Amelia Earhart (for example a 1930s shoe similar to ones seen in photos of her and period face cream for pale, freckled complexions) and possible human bones.

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Now sonar scans of the waters surrounding the island have thrown up an unidentified mass a few hundred feet down, which does not appear to conform to any known wreck or coral formation.  Could this be part of the Lockheed Electra, which Earhart managed to land on or near the reef?  That is the question that this latest discovery poses and which TIGHAR hopes to answer in the coming weeks.  I for one will be very keen to hear what they find.  In the meantime, as this investigation and the interest surrounding it proves, the story of Amelia Earhart and her untimely disappearance continues to intrigue and beguile nearly eight decades on.

Vintage aerial photography of Britain

Aerofilms Ltd. DH60 Moth at Hendon, 1928.  Image courtesy of Britain from Above.

Yet more archival material now available online - aren't we being wonderfully spoilt of late?!

Britain from Above: English Heritage unveils thousands of fascinating aerial images

Last year I blogged about the beginnings of English Heritage's latest project Britain from Above which, as the name suggests, features several thousand images of Britain taken from the air.  Interesting enough, but the clincher is the fact that these photographs were taken between 1919 and 1953.  Now the dedicated website is live and you can see parts of the British Isles from the air in a totally new and different way - in the past!

What Britain used to look like from the air

Just one year after the end of the First World War and only 16 years after the first powered flight, pilots Francis Lewis Wills and Claude Grahame-White founded Aerofilms Ltd. and took to the skies to photograph the United Kingdom from a never-before-seen vantage point - the air.  It is simply fascinating to see locations - areas one can be familiar with today - looking so very different during the 1920s and '30s, in their first appearance from an aerial platform.  Already I've found images of local places, such as my local railway station, that give a glorious insight into the life of the area during the first half of the 20th Century. 

Wickford railway station - from where for 10 years I commuted to London - in 1928.
Image courtesy of Britain from Above.

Early aerial photos of the UK go online

Truly this is a remarkable resource and one I feel sure I shall continue to delve into for a long time to come.  There really is something for every amateur (and, dare I say, professional) historian here - I can almost guarantee that there will be at least one picture of a place near you - and things aren't finished yet as barely 20% of the 95,000 images in the 1919-53 collection have been digitised so far.  Over the course of the next four years English Heritage aim to turn the project into one of the premier sources of early British aerial photography, and I for one can't wait!

Southend seafront, Marine Gardens, pier entrance, Palace Hotel and the High Street, 1920.
Image courtesy of Britain from Above.

Vintage aerial photography of Britain

We can help in the creation of this ultimate collection too by sharing memories and knowledge of locations, many photos of which have little or no information attached to them.  One can sign up for free, join groups, annotate pictures and even download them!  This is one of the most magnificent archives I've come across in recent years, deserves to flourish and is possible thanks to Heritage Lottery and other private donations for which we should be inordinately grateful.  Happy browsing!

Radio-controlled Spitfire achieves cross-Channel flight

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Radio-controlled Spitfire achieves cross-Channel flight

A Spitfire crossing the Channel is by no means a new thing - after all they were doing it every day 70 years ago - but this is the first one where the "pilot" has been controlling it from another aeroplane!  Of course, the reason for this is that the Spit in question is in fact a ¼-scale model.

A bit of fun on the part of the aircraft's builder - who quite understandably wanted to undertake the ultimate test-flight - the crossing is also a minor testament to those young men who flew the real thing during the war, ending as it did at the Spitfire & Hurricane Museum at Manston in Kent.

Scale model aircraft have obviously come a long way for one to be able to cross the Channel in under an hour at an average speed of 100mph.  It certainly puts my Airfix models, polystyrene & elastic-band wind-up kits and an old petrol-powered wood-and-papier-mâché Spit that was controlled by two metal wires and which could only be flown around in circles(!) into perspective!

A super-realistic model able to fly over long distances (albeit with the controller in attendance!) must surely be the next-best thing to the real article.  I hope Mr Booth continues to enjoy his aeroplane, and maybe even take it on further long-distance flights.

Britain from the air in times gone by

Britain from the air in times gone by

A splendid series of images from The Daily Telegraph now, which highlights a project currently under way at English Heritage to digitise their extensive collection of pre-war aerial photographs - part of the Aerofilms Collection.

As you will see, these fantastic snap-shots show British landmarks and countryside from a then-new vantage point - with many aspects that today seem somehow familiar and yet at the same time have changed enormously.  In some of them we can see the beginnings of the sprawling urbanisation that is more and more prevalent nowadays and for perhaps the first time we can appreciate on a larger scale just how fresh, open and unspoilt some places once were.  Indeed one of the secondary aims of this Britain From Above project is to observe and compare building expansion and how it affects and has affected the natural surroundings over the decades.

For us it gives us the opportunity to pore over some wonderful vintage pictures, with the promise of yet more to come - 95,000 by 2014! - and think back to those pioneers of flight who instigated the idea and how amazing it must have been for people, like those in the above clip, to fly over places they had only ever seen before from ground level.  These photographs truly did (and do) give a whole new perspective on the British Isles of the 1920s, '30s and '40s.

Harry Dolman's Flying Flea housed in Bristol's M-Shed

Harry Dolman's Flying Flea housed in Bristol's M-Shed

An amusing footnote in the history of aviation gets a mention in this article from the B.B.C. now, as an example of one of the odder aircraft ever to fly is put on display in a museum at Bristol - itself a well-known location in early British aeronautics.

We may look back now at the "Flying Flea" and laugh but in the 1930s powered flight, while barely 30 years old, was big business and already looked upon as having a great future.  However that vision of the future often took the form of every man and his dog buzzing about the skies in little aeroplanes much as people did (and do) in cars and on motorbikes.  "Flying for the masses", with the aeroplane becoming as ubiquitous as the motor car, was still considered a viable possibility - hence the proliferation of aircraft like this Pou-du-Ciel.

Alas numerous stumbling blocks meant we never got to see "skyways" filled with Joe Public in his little aeroplane (probably for the best!) and now the likes of the Flea remain as static museum pieces, a tantalising glimpse into pre-war attitudes to flying and a vision of a future that never was.

Spitfire celebrates 75th anniversary

Spitfire celebrates 75th anniversary

Today marks a special date in the history of aviation and, ultimately, the history of this country.  On the 5th of March 1936 at Eastleigh Aerodrome, Hampshire  (now Southampton Airport) a single-engined, low-wing monoplane fighter prototype flew for the first time.  That aeroplane, designated Type 300, became the Supermarine Spitfire - designer R. J. Mitchell's magnum opus and the aircraft that went on to define and ultimately help win the Second World War in the air.



The Spitfire can trace its roots back to the successful Supermarine S.5 and S.6/S.6B seaplanes that won the Schneider Trophy in 1927, 1929 and 1931.  Here were the first examples of Mitchell's streamlined, one-piece designs complete with (from the S.6 onwards) Rolls-Royce engines, which would eventually lead to the Spitfire.  Together with the RAF's first low-wing monoplane fighter the Hawker Hurricane, which pre-dated it by a matter of 5 months, the Spitfire became the backbone of Fighter Command in World War Two and has forever cemented itself in our nation's consciousness.

Spitfire flight marks 75th anniversary in Southampton

As part of the celebrations the "Grace" Spitfire performed a flypast over Southampton, where Supermarine was based, and a statue has been commissioned as a permanent memorial.



But the most fitting tribute to this enduring aircraft are the 44 or so (out of total 22,500 manufactured) that still fly and perform at airshows around the world.  Perhaps more than any other aeroplane it has earned an abiding glamour that will, with luck, ensure it remains at the forefront of our cultural heritage for another 75 years.  In the meantime, Happy Birthday Spitfire!

The return of the airship

The new vehicle set to revolutionise the skies

The return of the Zeppelin: not just a flight of fancy

I've been following the progress of this machine for a couple of years now and it's actually beginning to sound like it's on track for success. The promise of 1,000ft-long airships sailing through the skies again sounds almost too good to be true.

Never mind all this nonsense about it being a "Hybrid Air Vehicle" and a "revolutionary new vehicle" - they can say what they like ("airship has negative connotations" indeed!) it is an airship. OK, maybe nowadays it's better than the dirigibles of 80 years ago, but that's only thanks to new technologies and designs. The direct antecedents of this machine are still the wondrous Zeppelins of the 1920s and '30s. In a way, this is a good example of the ideal I've been talking about in previous posts - vintage ideas and solutions revived with modern equipment (and British equipment and know-how at that!).



Airships may have ruled the skies during the interwar years (and what I wouldn't give to have been able to see a zeppelin in flight!) but now they look to be on the cusp of a proper renaissance and will be put to uses Count von Zeppelin and Hugo Eckener could only have dreamed. Who knows, if this new airship is successful in a cargo-carrying capacity it may herald the restart of a passenger service (not to take anything away from Zeppelin NT who have been offering sightseeing tours in Germany, and elsewhere, for several years now) and a new Golden Age of airships may well be on the cards!

Jetman performs new aerial stunt

Jetman performs new aerial stunt

Swiss pilot Yves Rossy, aka Jetman, has once again caught my attention with the testing of a refined version of his jet-pack wing. I admire M. Rossy immensely, for having the ability to create such a fantastic device (particularly so considering previous attempts at jet-packs, which barely get the user off the ground) and the skill and nerve to fly the thing at all. In these times of health and safety and reams of paperwork M. Rossy and his invention are something to marvel at in much the same way as people followed the exploits of Lindbergh, Earhart and Johnson in the '20s and '30s, I'd like to think. Long may he continue to thrill us aeronautical-minded chaps with his jet-pack designs.

To add a bit of a vintage theme to this post I'm going to use this story as an opportunity to include some clips of my other favourite "rocketmen" (albeit fictional, alas!) from down the years. I should warn you that these are classic examples of or homages to dodgy mid-fifties B-movies so if that's not your kind of thing best stop reading now!

To start us off is the 1949 Republic serial King Of The Rocketmen which introduces us to the idea of a jetpack-powered flying man in the character of Jeff King. Our hero is a scientist who, with the help of a colleague, uses an "atomic powered rocket flying suit" and sundry other inventions to battle the evil Dr Vulcan:


Three years later and Jeff "Rocketman" King has given way to Commando Cody (still, however, in the same Rocketman suit) whose first appearance was in the 12-part serial Radar Men From The Moon. In this series, the first part of which you can see below, our intrepid flying man foils evil moon ruler Retik's plan to invade the Earth!


Then, in the same year, came the brilliantly-titled Zombies Of The Stratosphere (perhaps nowadays best known for being the first film of Star Trek's Leonard Nimoy) and another change of name - now the Rocketman is Larry Martin, but who in every other respect is exactly the same as Commando Cody. This time Earth is menaced by malevolent Martians, whose devious plan is to set off an H-bomb to blow the Earth out of its orbit and put their planet in its place!


Next, and somewhat confusingly, comes the 1953 serial Commando Cody: Sky Marshal of the Universe which is a prequel to Radar Men From The Moon and reintroduces the character of Commando Cody. Unlike the previous Rocketman adventures each episode was an individual story in itself (although there was still a chronological order to them), as the villainous alien The Ruler attempts to take over the Earth. I can't find a clip or trailer for this one so instead I'll include this hilarious over-dub, Commando Cody and the Hatless Planet, which affectionately yet effectively sends up the series and '50 B-movies in general using clips from the serials:


For the next 30 years fictional Rocketmen became rather thin on the ground but then in 1982 the late Dave Stevens, illustrator and comics artist, came up with the character of The Rocketeer in homage to the Rocketman/Commando Cody serials and other sci-fi/fantasy films of the '30s. Rocketeer stories appeared sporadically between 1982 and 1995 and are now collated in the recently launched The Rocketeer: The Complete Collection graphic novel. However the high point came in 1991 when Disney released the film The Rocketeer:


This is by far and away one of my favourite films ever, although sadly it didn't perform well at the box office (it was unfortunately released at the same time as some piece of nonsense called Terminator 2) and the subsequent planned sequel was cancelled. I'm pleased to see that it is on Youtube in 11 parts and it is also readily available on DVD (which of course I have). Perhaps the 1990s was the wrong time for a '30s-style adventure film but now what with the sudden explosion of interest in vintage and M. Rossy's jet pack flights, perhaps we will see a Rocketman on our screens again soon...

Norfolk's magnificent autogyro specialist has sights on new record

Norfolk's magnificent autogyro specialist has sights on new record

A fantastic article about an amazing man and the equally amazing machines that he flies. Wing Commander Wallis sounds every inch the plucky British aviator and the fact that he is 94 years old and still flying - and what's more, keen to break the autogyro speed record - is a wonderful testament to the man and his life in the air. His past history and experiences sound incredible and I shall now seek out his biography forthwith. I wish him every success in his attempt on the 4th of July and hope he can overcome the mindless bureaucracy he's facing (the man's probably got more knowledge in his little finger than in the whole of the CAA, but that's pen-pushers for you...). I'm sure he will be successful and that the event will become yet another feather in his cap.

As to the machine, the autogyro has always held a particular fascination for me. Widely regarded as the "missing link" between aeroplanes and helicopters, I find their unique appearance and flying characteristics most interesting. Personally I much prefer the earlier pre-war designs rather than the later types (also known as gyrocopters) but generally speaking they are extraordinary machines. Here are two Youtube videos of early autogyros; the first shows their invention and refinement by the Spaniard Juan de la Cierva and the second is some wonderful recent footage of the Pitcairn PA-18, which was the American licence-built version of the Cierva autogyro.

Work starts in £15m plan to get Concorde flying

Work starts in £15m plan to get Concorde flying

One of the greatest Anglo-French engineering projects ever built, the Concorde deserves a place in aviation history and could rightly be argued to have died before its time. Certainly that is the feeling of those involved in trying to get an Air France example airworthy again in time for the 2012 Olympics. I wish them the very best of luck; hopefully as the aircraft in question is, I believe, one of the last to be taken out of service and still in comparatively good condition this should not be impossible. The least we can do for this astonishing aeroplane is to have one flying, albeit in a heritage capacity, so that future generations can enjoy seeing this beautiful machine where it belongs - in the air.

I have been lucky enough to see the Concorde airborne twice before it was retired and both times have been magical, memorable experiences. There are very few machines that can match the majesty and otherworldliness of Concorde and I consider it to be one of the greatest technical achievements Britain, or indeed the world, has ever seen. I hope to be able to see her flying a third time, and many more besides, from 2012 onwards.

Solar-powered plane takes to the skies - at the speed of a bicycle

Solar-powered plane takes to the skies - at the speed of a bicycle

You may recall that back in November I made mention of the impending test-flight of the Solar Impulse, the solar-powered aeroplane that aims to circumnavigate the planet. Well the day of its test flight has come and, I'm happy to say, seemingly gone without incident.

A slow and steady inaugural hop, one might say, but then again such an approach often wins the day. Everything looks to be on course for an attempt on a round-the-world flight (although it may take some little time at such low speeds!). Good luck to all involved in the endeavour, I say, and don't forget to keep checking this blog for updates if and when they do launch!

Historic airship hangar for sale

Historic airship hangar for sale

I watched the episode of the B.B.C's Top Gear the other week in which James May converted a caravan into an airship, and it was shown launching from a hanger just like the one in this story (in fact, it may have been the one in this story) and the size of the hanger in comparison was astounding. How big airships like the R.100 and R.101 must have been to take up all that room is almost beyond comprehension. What must it have been like to see these majestic "liners of the air" in their heyday of the 1920s and '30s! Now all that is left to remind us of these aerial leviathans are these huge hangers that used to house them. I'm glad to see they're listed buildings, and hope that whoever ends up buying them is mindful of their heritage. If Mercedes-Benz can make such a good job of the Brooklands racing circuit in Surrey, then there is surely some hope that this hangers will fall into some capable, appreciative hands too. In the meantime, I look forward to the day when we are all once again floating serenely through the skies in giant, luxurious airships. Despite what some people might say, I believe the airship still has a future!