Hod Carrier

You may be interested to know that "The Badger", as the loco is affectionately known, still exists. I drove past it just today at Crewe. Your model is a very good likeness and immediately recognisable. Just one small observation, if I may. The pantograph is facing the wrong way and needs flipping around so that the elbow points towards the centre of the loco.

I'd just like to add my own thanks and appreciation for your time, effort and devotion. I wish you every success with whatever direction you take next.

I always think that if you're building a model of something real it would be good to include at least some of the more obvious markings and other decorations. How far down this particular "rabbit hole" you want to fall is entirely up to you, but I do think that a loco should have it's number and the railway's identifying crest/logo. Printing onto bricks is the Rolls Royce solution for getting logos, numbers and other decoration onto parts, but it is permanent and a bit pricey. May I recommend a couple of alternatives...? An option that I've made use of is printing my own graphics at home and then applying them to the finished model. Design and scale them on your computer and then print them onto self-adhesive inkjet vinyl (available in A4 sheets of white or transparent from retailers such as this one). Just a couple of tips with this technique. Leave the sheets for a few minutes after printing to dry before handling and then seal the print with some spray-on craft sealer before cutting and sticking. As well as the sealer you should also get a selection of Sharpies in different colours, as the white edge of the stickers will still be visible and may need to be coloured-in before applying them to the model. If you want to try to match your stickers to the colour of LEGO bricks, Rebrickable has this useful guide giving you the RGB code for each colour, although bear in mind that there can be quite a bit of colour variation between individual parts of the same colour and that your printer may not necessarily replicate the desired colour perfectly. The other option is to use waterslide transfers. Most LEGO train models are tolerably close to UK 7mm scale/O-gauge (a scale of 1:43.5) and you can buy sheets of crests, numbers, markings and lining that you can apply directly to your model. For British models, like your Ivatt 2MT, a retailer like Fox Transfers should be able to provide all your needs. Hope this helps.

I've done something along similar lines, although not exactly the same thing. Being primarily a builder of trains, I started off using luminous parts to replicate interior and exterior lighting, which has worked out quite well. With the basics covered, I moved on to using them to try and provide realistic lighting for enclosed spaces, much as as you might do for modulars and other similar builds. In my case, I applied the technique to underground and subway stations. One small innovation was to combine luminous parts with custom graphics to provide stencils to replicate illuminated signs. The closest that I have come to using luminous parts out-of-shot to provide a sort of lighting rig was when I fell down a bit of a 2001: A Space Odyssey rabbit-hole and created some artwork pastiches. Replicating some of the lighting effects from the original film poster (the lighting of the space station and the reflections on the helmet visor) required luminous parts in various configurations. As well as the original film poster pastiche, I recreated a couple of artworks released to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the release of the film that required the use of luminous parts. These included an alternative poster featuring the famous corridor scene in which the lighting is provided by luminous parts in-shot, and my version of the Dave O'Flanaghan Monolith scene on the lunar surface. One thing that I have struggled with is just how shiny the surface of regular parts are when rendered, forcing me to make heavy use of the rubber colours palette to create matt surfaces that wouldn't simply reflect everything like a mirror. Part of this might have been due to how close the parts were to the light source (e.g. in the London Underground scene) and also because I was trying to light a scene rather than a single MOC. Whatever the case, it looks as though you've not been hindered by any such problems enabling you to get some great results using this technique. Your renders certainly look a lot richer as a consequence of the interplay of light and shade that you've been able to achieve compared to the slightly less interesting results the standard lighting creates. I will certainly be looking into this a bit more as a result of your ideas. Thanks so much for sharing.

I investigated this issue a few years ago and there is quite a long thread detailing the process. I don't necessarily recommend you read the whole thing (unless it particularly interests you), but you can read my summary here.

Thanks folks. I'm not sure how buildable this design would be, as it uses a whole hill of SNOT (and I really doubt it would be strong enough to support a pot plant). I've spent a lot of time looking at it and fiddling with it and I'm still unsure about it. I had an idea about powering it, but that also is still just an unproven idea. I don't release instructions or files but am happy to share techniques. The track has sleepers/ties and ballasting using conventional methods with an added 3rd and 4th rail using clip tiles and flex tube.

Interesting. Not sure how many people are sticking to the part limit, but might be worth a tickle.

BBCode has been disabled, but you can still embed Flickr content by following the instructions in this post. Click Nice "Chopper", by the way. Good to see some triple grey.

Oops!! My bad. I have flagged the post and asked if it can be moved. In my defence, the descriptor for this board on the forum index does still mention "military" and probably was what stopped me scrolling any further down to find a better home for this thread. Thanks, Dave. Wikipedia are pretty good at listing surviving aircraft, so they may have a better list than me. The only two I am aware of are a complete Mk.X at the RAF Museum in Hendon (free entry) and an Australian Beau that has been under restoration to flying condition for more years than I can recall at the Imperial War Museum in Duxford (admission charges apply).

I’ve been a big fan of the Bristol Beaufighter since boyhood and have made several attempts down the years to build one in LEGO. The big Bristol fighter was a compromised design from the beginning and for a long time lived in the shadow of the faster de Havilland Mosquito, but it still managed to carve out its own niche as a potent strike fighter, which endears it to me enormously. In my opinion, the Beaufighter is one of the great unsung heroes of WW2. It was not a fast or pretty aircraft, and most of its exploits were carried out away from the public’s gaze, either in the night skies over Britain, far out over the sea in the North Atlantic or over the dense jungles of the Far East. However, its ruggedness and its ability to land a mighty punch made it an indispensable weapon. Its design may have been compromised from the beginning, but it more than made up for its shortcomings with its abilities. Annoyingly, the Beaufighter is a difficult shape full of LEGO-unfriendly curves and every design I came up with looked wrong or out of proportion, in particular around the nose. In the end I decided to shrink the design down to approximately Microfig scale which seems to have worked relatively well, although I have had to use one or two illegal techniques. It requires a couple of tabs of double-sided tape and some modified parts, in particular around the landing gear and the obvious 2x6 wedge tile on the rear fuselage sides to allow for stickers which would be difficult to apply to a 2x6 wedge plate. So here is my design for the Bristol Beaufighter. I have done some test builds to prove that it is buildable but I am presenting it here as a digital design. I have gone a bit mad and varied the design to depict not only the first prototype but also all five major production marks, although colour availability would mean that only four of these models are actually possible to build. The origins of the Beaufighter go back to the Munich Crisis of 1938 which highlighted the RAF’s need for a heavy long-range fighter. Development of the Westland Whirlwind was delayed, and so Bristol submitted a proposal for a twin-engined cannon fighter based on the Beaufort torpedo bomber that would use some of the same assemblies to speed the production of the type. The result was the Bristol Type 156 “Beaufort Fighter”, a name that was shortened to Beaufighter. The unarmed, unpainted first prototype flew in July 1939 and achieved 335mph, although this came down to 309mph with the second prototype which had operational equipment fitted. Changes were made to help improve aerodynamic efficiency, but concerns remained about performance due to the engines used. The intention had been to use Bristol Hercules VI 14-cylinder radial engines rated at around 1,500hp, but these were still being developed and priority for them was given to the Short Stirling heavy bomber. The model design depicts the first prototype, R2052, in its original configuration with the oil coolers under the engine nacelles (later moved to the wing leading edge) and short landing gear doors that did not fully enclose the main wheels when retracted. The Beaufighter Mk.I went into production using a less powerful version of the Hercules engine than originally intended, but it still packed a mighty punch. Armed with four 20mm cannon in the fuselage and six 0.303in machine guns in the wings, the Beaufighter had the heaviest fixed armament of any aircraft of the time. It was originally intended to be used by RAF Fighter Command as a day fighter, but it’s large size and low speed made it less than ideal in the role. Combined with airborne interception (AI) Mk.III radar the Beaufighter was an ideal night fighter, having the speed to intercept enemy aircraft and the weight of armament to deal a lethal blow. Night fighter squadrons who had been saddled with less effective aircraft, such as the Bristol Blenheim, and were frustrated at being on the sidelines of the Battle of Britain eagerly took to the Beaufighter. Very soon, a number of night fighter pilots had become aces flying the type, including John “Cats Eyes” Cunningham, and night fighter squadrons were soon accounting for more enemy raiders destroyed than ground defences. In addition to its success as a night fighter, the Beaufighter (or “Beau” as it became known to its crews) continued to operate by day against air and ground targets, particularly in the Mediterranean and North Africa where it was used to provide air support to ground troops. Beaufighters were also supplied to RAF Coastal Command for use as long-range strike fighters. Mk.I aircraft were initially built to a common standard and then adapted, but the differing requirements of the two commands meant that they eventually had to be built separately. Coastal Command’s Mk.1C differed from Fighter Command’s Mk.1F by trading the wing-mounted machine guns for additional fuel capacity for increased range, different radio and radio-navigation equipment and no radar. These aircraft performed a variety of operations including long-range fighter patrols as well as strikes against enemy shipping and ground targets. Patrols over the Bay of Biscay and success in destroying long-range bombers operating against allied shipping, such as the Focke-Wulf FW 200 Condor, effectively removed the aerial threat from the Battle of the Atlantic. A single Coastal Command Beaufighter Mk.IC, flown by Flt Lt Ken Gatward and his observer/navigator Sgt George Fern, took part in a daring one aircraft daylight raid on Paris. Codenamed Operation Squabble, Gatward and Fern flew at extremely low level to cross occupied France unopposed. They overflew the Arc de Triomphe and dropped a French Tricolour, continued at rooftop height along the Champs Elysee to strafe the Kreigsmarine headquarters on the Place de la Concorde and drop another Tricolour before escaping again. It was later described as “perhaps the most impudent raid of the war”. Although the Mk.I wore a multitude of different colours, including day fighter and desert camouflage, I have modelled a Mk.IF night fighter in matt black camouflage. I have attempted to include the AI Mk.III radar antennae on the nose and wings of the aircraft. Following the slightly disappointing performance of the Mk.I, the quest to unlock the potential of the Beaufighter continued. The original specification stated that the aircraft should be capable of using either the air-cooled Bristol Hercules radial engine or the liquid-cooled Rolls Royce Griffon vee engine interchangeably. Although a Griffon-engined prototype was flown, this engine, like the Hercules VI, was prioritised for another aircraft and so was unavailable for the Beaufighter. A potential solution came in the form of the Rolls Royce Merlin XX which was being offered in a self-contained “power plant” installation that would be seen again later in the war on the Avro Lancaster. The result was the Beaufighter Mk.IIF. The Beaufighter Mk.IIF was used primarily by Fighter Command as a night fighter. A small number were also delivered to the Royal Navy Fleet Air Arm for use in a variety of secondary roles such as operational training and convoy escort. Although the change in engine did give the Mk.IIF slightly better performance at high altitude compared to the Hercules-powered Mk.I, the Merlins were still insufficiently powerful to improve the overall performance. As well as a lack of power, something about the installation and characteristics of the Merlin XXs on the Mk.IIF exacerbated a problem inherent in the Beaufighter design. Right from the start it was observed that the Beaufighter had a directional instability at low airspeeds. The Mk.IIF in particular could swing violently to port (left) during take-off runs, potentially causing the aircraft to ground loop. This made the Mk.IIF unpopular with crews. Wing Commander Pearson, commanding 600 Squadron, who were one of the first to receive the type, observed that it was “an unnatural and dangerous aeroplane … No matter how the aircraft is trimmed, it will not fly straight and level hands off”, concluding that “the Beaufighter is a great aeroplane; the Merlin a great engine. Together they are a great disaster”. Various solutions were tried, including a taller tail fin and a dorsal fillet, but the designers settled on enlarged tailplanes set at 12 degrees of dihedral for all marks, but only the last Mk.IIFs built received this design of tailplane. Of around 450 Mk.IIFs built, around one third would be lost in accidents, and by mid-1942 the Mk.IIF was withdrawn from frontline service and relegated to secondary duties. My model of the Mk.IIF is in night fighter matt black, which is the role that the majority of these aircraft undertook. The big difference is in the shape of the engine nacelles. A change by RAF Bomber Command in aircraft procurement meant that the Short Stirling was no longer in demand and the Hercules VI engine could now be made available. At last, the Beaufighter would receive the power that it was always intended to have. The Beaufighter Mk.VI was, like the Mk.I, built to two different specifications as the Mk.VIF for Fighter Command and Mk.VIC for Coastal Command. As before, Fighter Command would initially use the Mk.VIF as a night fighter, although they would eventually transition to the de Havilland Mosquito for home defence. However, it would continue in the role in other theatres of operation, including with the USAAF in the Mediterranean and Italy. Once again, it would be Coastal Command who would put the Mk.VIC to best use. The additional power meant that the aircraft could now lift external weapons including bombs, rockets and even air-dropped torpedoes. Squadrons would be formed into Wings operating out of strategically located airfields so that they could operate in large formations of rocket or torpedo armed aircraft to harass enemy shipping from the Bay of Biscay to the Norwegian Fjords. I have adapted the design to show a Coastal Command Mk.VIC in the short-lived white and grey scheme with rocket rails under each wing. The tailplanes have the now standard 12 degrees of dihedral. Eventually, with Fighter Command’s interest in the Beaufighter waning, Bristol would offer Coastal Command a bespoke low-altitude strike fighter specifically suited for low-level attacks on shipping and land targets, the TF Mk.X. With the Hercules engines now producing 1,750hp each at 500 feet, the TF Mk.X was equipped with ASV radar to search for shipping and could carry an air-dropped torpedo. The “Torbeau”, as it became known, also provided rear defence in the shape of a Vickers K gun at the observer’s position. Initial versions looked similar to the preceding Mk.VI, but the TF Mk.X was later equipped with updated ASV radar in a thimble radome and the dorsal fillet first trialled on the Mk.IIF to aid directional stability. Alongside the TF Mk.X, Coastal Command received the Mk.XIC, which was identical to the TF Mk.X but was armed with rockets instead of a torpedo, which became known as “Rockbeaus”. These would be the definitive versions of the Beaufighter. This model shows the final iteration of the TF Mk.X with thimble radome, dorsal fillet and Vickers K gun for the observer. Air-dropped torpedoes had a plywood aerodynamic tail to ensure that they entered the water in the correct attitude. This would break off when they hit the surface of the water. The abilities of the Beaufighter as a strike fighter meant that, as well as serving in the war against Germany and Italy, it also served in the Far East and Pacific against the Japanese. The RAF were using the type over the jungles of Burma and South-East Asia while the Australian RAAF were operating Beaufighters in defence of New Guinea and other territories adjacent to their northern borders. One of the most notable actions in this theatre of operation was the Battle of the Bismark Sea, in which Australian Beaufighters flew in support of Australian and American bombers and torpedo bombers against a large Japanese troop convoy. The RAAF received British-built Beaufighters of various marks (all of which appear to have been confusingly classified as Mk.IC irrespective of their specification) but soon the type was being built under licence in Australia. This version was classified as Mk.21 and was broadly equivalent to the Mk.VIC, although local operating conditions meant that the precise nature of the equipment and armaments carried could vary. These Australian-built aircraft became known as DAP Beaufighters, after the Department of Aircraft Production in Melbourne that built them. This model of a Mk.21 DAP Beaufighter is in overall dark green as used by the RAAF with SEAC roundels to aid identification of friendly and hostile aircraft.

Thank you, gentlemen. That's most kind.

<-- Supermarine S.6B (Calshot 1931) The most successful designs throughout the history of the Schneider Trophy were of conventional design, and the Macchi designs, penned by Mario Castoldi, exemplified this approach. Given how far aviation technology was being pushed, simplicity in design allied with sound engineering was how races were won. That said, it is likely that no nation involved with the contest innovated more than Italy, especially during the latter half of the 1920s. Piaggio-Pegna P.7 Giovanni Pegna was a designer who was clearly in a hurry for the future to arrive. He seemed to be completely unconstrained by convention and willing to push technology beyond its capabilities at the time, such as his 1917 idea for an aircraft capable of stratospheric flight. The Schneider Trophy exercised a huge degree of fascination for Pegna who penned quite a few designs for racers that never made it off the page. What was clear from all of them was that he had a good understanding of the principles of streamlining and its importance for high-speed flight, but what made them so challenging was the degree of impracticality they exhibited. The only one of his Schneider Trophy designs to be constructed was the Piaggio-Pegna P.7. In essence, the Piaggio-Pegna P.7 was a new take on the flying boat. The aircraft had a fully watertight hull and would sit up to its wings on the water. Where it differed from other seaplanes is that it was much more streamlined than either a conventional flying boat, with its separate hull and engine nacelle, or a floatplane. Instead, the P.7 made use of hydrofoils. Looking more like something from last week rather than the 1920’s, the P.7 had a slender fuselage and comparatively small elliptical wings. Three hydrofoils were provided, one under the tail ahead of a boat rudder, and two on outriggers. Power for the P.7 was provided by an Isotta-Fraschini 12-cylinder vee engine producing 970hp mounted amidships. This engine drove both the conventional aircraft propellor at the front of the aircraft and a high-speed boat propellor under the tail through a series of clutches that would be engaged and disengaged by the pilot. As there would not be enough clearance for the aircraft propellor when the P.7 was at rest on the water, this would be held horizontally by a shaft brake while disengaged from the engine. The idea was that the P.7 would start and be accelerated through the water using the boat propellor until it had reached the speed where it had been lifted clear of the water on its hydrofoils. Once there was enough clearance to divert drive, the pilot would operate a series of levers in the cockpit to engage the propellor, allowing the aircraft to continue to accelerate to take-off speed. Only a single P.7 was completed and was delivered to Desenzano on Lake Garda for evaluation, where the only pilot willing to try it was W.O. Tommaso Dal Molin. One disadvantage of the design immediately became clear, as the aircraft sat very low in the water. This may have been fine on a fairly smooth lake but it may have been more of a problem on the open sea where the Schneider Trophy trials usually took place. Waterproofing the P.7 would have been crucial to prevent it being swamped in a swell. A somewhat larger issue is that the P.7 never achieved flight. Part of the reason is that the mechanism for diverting the drive was too complicated. Operating the clutches correctly in a coordinated manner to manage the engine revolutions while controlling the aircraft would have required the pilot to have had three hands. This was probably for the best, as alighting the P.7 is likely to have been hazardous in the extreme as it probably could only have been achieved with the engine stopped to prevent the propellor striking the water. Image from Piaggio P.7 / Piaggio-Pegna Pc 7 Schneider Racer | Old Machine Press Savoia S.65 Designed by Alessandro Marchetti, the Savoia S.65 was a somewhat unconventional twin-engine aircraft. Like the Piaggio-Pegna P.7, it was intended that the S.65 would compete for the Schneider Trophy in 1929, but technical problems prevented it from coming to the start line. However, the Italian team still brought the S.65 with them to Calshot where it was displayed to give the British something to think about. The Savoia S.65 was distinctive in that both engines were contained in a central nacelle in a “push-pull” configuration, with the pilot sandwiched between them. The tailplane and rudder were supported on booms and strut-braced to the very long slender floats. The engines were a pair of Isotta-Fraschini Asso 12-cylinder vee engines rated at 1,050hp each. Confidence in the design was high and it was believed that it would be faster than the Supermarine S.6. The location of the cockpit of the S.65 and its position between the two engines meant that it was incredibly cramped and not suitable for every pilot. Indeed, the only pilot on the Italian team small enough to fit was W.O. Tommaso Dal Molin. Some accounts record that he had to dispense with a parachute to make sure that he would fit, although attempting to bail out of the S.65 would have been highly risky given the hazard posed by the rear propellor. The S.65 was dogged by problems with fuel starvation and overheating, especially for the rear engine. It was also found that the cockpit would fill with exhaust fumes, but this was cured by moving the exhaust ports from the top of the engine to the sides. However, by the time these issues had been rectified the window had closed on its participation. The S.65 was also fitted with an enlarged tail fin and rudder to try and remedy longitudinal control issues. Development work continued until early 1930 when the S.65 crashed on a test flight. The aircraft pitched up steeply after take-off, stalled and crashed into the lake, killing Dal Molin. The aircraft sank immediately and it was more than a week before it, and the body of Dal Molin, could be recovered. Image from Savoia-Marchetti S.65 Schneider Racer | Old Machine Press Macchi-Castoldi MC.72 At the conclusion of the of the 1929 Schneider Trophy race at Calshot, Italian Air Minister, Gen. Italo Balbo, declared “We have obtained the results we expected, but we have now finished playing our part as sportsmen. Tomorrow our work as competitors will begin.” Italy had suffered two defeats but clearly considered themselves capable of beating Britain and were determined to get back to winning ways. Rather than trying to develop multiple types as before, all energy would be focused on one all-conquering design. This design would be the Macchi-Castoldi MC.72, the ultimate expression of Mario Castoldi’s seaplane racer design. The heart of the MC.72 was the monstrous FIAT AS.6 engine, a huge 24-cylinder vee engine producing 2,500hp which measured 11 feet in length. It was essentially a pair of AS.5 12-cylinder engines mounted back-to-back on a shared crankcase, each driving one half of a counter-rotating propellor through co-axial driveshafts. The use of a counter-rotating propellor was primarily to aid take-off by cancelling out the problem of torque reaction, something that had plagued the high-powered seaplanes entered into the Schneider Trophy for years. The inertia of the engine and propellor as it was spun in one direction would result in the rest of the aircraft attempting to spin in the opposite direction, in accordance with Newton’s Third Law of Motion. This afflicted floatplanes in particular, because this interaction of forces could result in one float being driven under the water during take-off, causing a huge amount of hydrodynamic drag. It was not uncommon for Schneider Trophy racers to make uncontrollable arcs on the water and fail to “unstick”. The most common solutions were to address the buoyancy of the aircraft by making one float slightly larger than the other or by rebalancing the fuel load to lighten whichever float was prone to submersion. Other techniques included taking-off at an angle to the wind until enough speed had been gained to start hydroplaning, by which time the aircraft would have turned itself into the wind. However, the configuration of the FIAT AS.6 cancelled out torque reaction at source making take-offs much safer. The prodigious power and clever configuration of the FIAT AS.6 would be the MC.72’s greatest strengths, but it would also be its Achilles Heel. One of the disadvantages of such a massive engine was how to dissipate the huge amount of heat it generated. As well as the usual wing surface radiators, the requirements for engine cooling meant that the MC.72 was also provided with radiators on the fuselage flanks, the floats and the float struts. It was also a difficult engine to set-up and was a constant source of trouble to the Italian team. The first of a total of five aircraft was built and delivered to the Italian team at Desenzano for testing, but problems with the engine immediately became evident. The two halves of the AS.6 engine were not linked and, with the rear 12-cylinders also driving the supercharger for the whole engine, the two propellors did not always rotate at the same speed. In addition to this, the engine suffered with carburettor issues and would backfire violently in flight, which cut short the first flight of the MC.72 in the hands of Lt. Giovanni Monti. This would be an enduring problem with the FIAT AS.6 engine. On a later test flight, Monti overflew the engineers on the ground so that they could hear its irregular firing. As they listened and watched, the aircraft suddenly pitched upwards before diving into the lake, causing Monti’s death. An investigation concluded that a bearing had failed in the co-axial driveshafts causing the two propellors to touch. Similar engine-related problems were encountered with the second MC.72, raising doubts as to whether it would be ready to compete for the 1931 Schneider Trophy. In the end the decision to withdraw from the contest had to be taken but, despite this, Italy was not going to give up and allow the British to have everything their own way. The potential of the MC.72 was already evident and so, two days before Britain would win the Schneider Trophy, an attempt would be made on the world air speed record. Sadly, the attempt ended in tragedy. While making a high-speed run, the aircraft flew into rising ground without any attempt to deviate and was destroyed. The official investigation found that the engine had back-fired violently into the carburettor air intake setting fire to the gravity fuel tank just behind it and incapacitating its pilot, Lt. Stanislao Bellini. With the conclusion of the Schneider Trophy series, Italy invited British petrochemical engineer Rod Banks to help solve the problems afflicting the FIAT AS.6. Banks had been involved with the development of the Rolls-Royce R engine that had powered the Supermarine S.6 series and had been responsible for formulating the special fuels that they ran on. He was surprised to find that ground testing of the engine had not been done in a way that replicated flight conditions, as Rolls-Royce had. He persuaded FIAT to install a wind tunnel and then formulated a special fuel for the engine and set about dealing with the big engine’s carburetion problems. With the fuelling problems fixed and the engine now producing 3,000hp, the MC.72 could finally show its full potential. In April 1933, with W.O. Francesco Agello at the controls, the MC.72 set a world air speed record of 423.82mph. This was raised to 440.68mph by Agello in the MC.72 in October of the following year, a record that still stands today for the fastest piston-engine seaplane. Image from Wikimedia

<-- Supermarine S.6 (Calshot 1929) Britain was now in a position to take permanent ownership of the Schneider Trophy, but it’s defence of the title nearly didn’t happen. Official reluctance from the RAF to further involvement in the contest, as well as the cost of staging the event in the economic aftermath of the Wall Street Crash, meant that the British Government decided it would not meet the costs of fielding a team, preferring to leave any entry to private enterprise. Even when three entries each were received from France and Italy, all of which were backed by their Governments, the British Government would not change its position, making clear that it would not release the specially trained RAF pilots from the recently disbanded High Speed Flight nor take steps to police the Solent over which the contest would take place. Matters were finally brought to a conclusion by Lady Lucy Houston, reputedly the wealthiest woman in Britain. She offered to sponsor the event up to £100,000 provided that the RAF pilots needed could be released. The Government assented to this, and the contest was saved. All of this delay meant that Britain’s aircraft manufacturers only had nine months to build and prepare an entry for the next meeting at Calshot in 1931. Supermarine and Rolls-Royce had already been in discussion but, without funding, no substantive work had taken place. In the end, their efforts would be limited to improving their existing designs, as there was not enough time to develop an entirely new aircraft. What came out of this process was the Supermarine S.6B, a refinement of the previous S.6. Rolls-Royce had tuned the R engine to produce 2,300hp while Supermarine had updated and refined the airframe to improve aerodynamic efficiency and heat dissipation from the engine. Two new aircraft were built and the S.6s from 1929 were modified and brought up to the same standard and classified S.6A. These considerations had not affected the French or Italians, who had been busy getting on with developing their designs in time for the contest. France continued to develop the designs that they had intended to enter for the 1929 event, but a series of accidents and technical setbacks meant that, once again, none of their entries were ready for the contest and they were forced to withdraw. Meanwhile, in Italy, work had continued with some of the experimental types that had debuted at the previous Schneider Trophy meeting, but none of these were going to be entered for 1931. Instead, all hope had been pinned on a new design from Mario Castoldi’s Macchi concern. This was an ambitious design but one that would also not be ready in time due to difficulties with the engine, and so Italy also withdrew. A request for a postponement was received but, due to the nature of the private sponsorship, it was not possible to grant one. Therefore, in order to claim the Schneider Trophy in perpetuity, all the British team needed to do was to fly the course. There had been no intention for the British team to race each other over the course, but rather to run one aircraft at a time and hold the others in reserve in case of failure. Should the last reserve aircraft not be needed it would be used to make an attempt on the world air speed record. As it turned out, the reserves were not required. Without any competition, Flt Lt. John Boothman could make a careful and measured attempt in the first Supermarine S.6B, ensuring that the engine was not over-stressed, and completed the course to win the Schneider Trophy for Britain for the final time. Later that afternoon, Flt Lt. G. H. Stainforth used the second of the S.6Bs to set a world air speed record of 379.05mph. Image from Wikimedia. Postscript: The Italian Triplets -->

<-- Supermarine S.5 (Venice 1927) The amount of time needed for research and development required to design a high-speed racing aircraft and their engines was now so great that staging the Schneider Trophy annually was no longer realistic. Therefore, it was agreed unanimously that the competition would run every two years, with the winner being the nation that won three out of five successive events. This meant that it was 1929 before Britain could mount its defence of the title. Once again, the contest would be held over the waters of the Solent, but this time the event would be based at Calshot using the facilities of the RAF’s seaplane base. After an absence of several years, France decided it was time to stage a return. Sadly, none of its contenders were ready in time, mostly due to engine development difficulties, and so they withdrew. The USA once again was relying on private enterprise and the wit of Lt. Alford J. Williams, but his Williams Mercury monoplane proved reluctant to take to the air and, when it did, the engine overheated almost immediately forcing it back down again. They also were compelled to withdraw. In Italy, Mario Castoldi had been busy further refining his racing monoplane design. The biggest change was a switch from FIAT power to the Isotta-Fraschini Asso 18-cylinder “broad arrow” engine producing 1,800hp. The Italian team struggled to make these engines run smoothly at full throttle in flight and eventually opted simply to reduce the maximum revolutions, even though this would also reduce performance. Three Asso powered Macchi M.67s were built for the contest and delivered to the new Italian high-speed centre at Desenzano on Lake Garda, but one was lost, along with its pilot, Capt. Guiseppe Motta, in a practice flight. The cause of the crash was attributed to exhaust fumes entering the cockpit. Its place in the team would be taken by a Macchi M.52R, an improved version of the aircraft previously entered at Venice two years before. The Italians had not been idle, as it was not just Macchi who had been building racing seaplanes. A number of different designs were brought to Calshot, including the tiny FIAT C.29. This diminutive racer was powered by a 1,000hp FIAT AS.5 engine and should have been fast, but a series of testing mishaps meant that it was not ready. Also at Calshot was the Savoia S.65, an unconventional twin-engine design that was also not quite ready for competition. The British had also been busy working on different designs. The Gloster VI was a very streamlined monoplane powered by the venerable Napier Lion, now producing 1,320hp, but the Glosters were withdrawn as the engine could not be made to run reliably in flight. Supermarine, on the other hand, had decided that the Napier unit was reaching the end of its developmental life and turned instead to Rolls-Royce, who had been working on a 12-cylinder vee racing engine. This engine promised more power and reduced fuel and oil consumption from a lightweight design with a small frontal area and, when it was ready for installation, produced 1,850hp. Testing of the engines had been done in a wind tunnel to replicate the conditions during high-speed flight and included running the engine at full power for an hour to ensure reliability. As the Rolls-Royce R engine was larger than the Napier Lion, the resulting aircraft, the Supermarine S.6, was also larger than the preceding S.5 but shared a lot of the same design features. Two aircraft were built and delivered to the RAF High Speed Flight for testing. The race teams were Lt. Giovanni Monti and Lt. Remo Cadringher in the Macchi M.67s, with W.O. Tommaso Dal Molin in the Macchi M.52R, against Flg Off. H. R. D. Waghorn and Flg Off. R. L. R. Atcherley in the Supermarine S.6s, and Flt Lt. D. D’Arcy Greig in a Supermarine S.5. With the race underway, it became clear that the cockpits of the Macchi M.67s were still filling with exhaust fumes despite the additional ventilation provided following Motta’s fatal crash in testing. Cadringher lasted only two laps before being overcome and could not even overtake Dal Molin in the slower M.52R, so opted to retire. Monti in the second of the M.67s showed better pace and was challenging the Supermarine S.6s, but he was also suffering the effects of exhaust fumes and only lasted two laps before the cooling system failed, badly scalding him with steam and boiling water and forcing him out of the race. Misfortune of a slightly less dramatic nature struck the British team, as Atcherley, in an attempt to clear his goggles, lost them in the slipstream and was unable to put on his spare set. Unsighted, he turned inside a marker and was disqualified. This left the battle between the two old warhorses, Dal Molin in the Macchi M.52R and D’Arcy Greig in the Supermarine S.5. Although both aircraft were slower than the others it became imperative to stay ahead in case the other S.6 of Waghorn failed to finish. It looked as though this might be possible, as Waghorn’s S.6 started to lose power and misfire. He climbed in the hope of being able to glide to the finish line, but the engine finally cut out as he rounded the final turn and he was forced to alight. He was initially distraught, but a motor launch came alongside to give him the news that he had won. Like Webster in 1927, he had miscounted his laps and flown an additional lap, running out of fuel as he did. Waghorn’s victory very nearly did not happen, and it was only thanks to an attentive Rolls-Royce engineer that it did. During routine maintenance of the engine on the night before the race, a fleck of metal was found on a spark plug as it was removed, which warned the engineer of an impending problem. As changing the whole engine was not permitted in the rules, the only solution was to change the cylinder block. This was not a simple job, but luckily there were several hundred Rolls-Royce engineers who had come down to watch the race, billeted in hotels and boarding-houses across Southampton. A team was quickly assembled and the cylinder block was changed and the engine test run by 8am on the morning of the contest. (A piece of trivia that I particularly like also relates to Rolls-Royce. Because the run-time between overhauls for the R engine was only 5 hours, it was necessary to shuttle the engines between Calshot on the south coast and the Rolls-Royce factory in Derby in the industrial Midlands. To do this, Rolls-Royce converted a Phantom I motorcar into a lorry, and the engines would be ferried overnight. Clearly the competitive spirit of the Schneider Trophy had rubbed off on the transport crews, as each vied to complete the journey in the fastest time. On one night, the Police caught the Phantom as it sped through a sleepy Hampshire village at around 80mph.) Image from Wikimedia. Supermarine S.6B (Calshot 1931) -->

<-- Macchi M.39 (Hampton Roads 1926) After coming so close to winning the Schneider Trophy outright, interest in the contest in the United States had begun to wane. The US Navy had already stated that it no longer wished to participate and the Army had yet to declare its intentions. It appeared that there would be no official entry sent to Venice to defend the Trophy. American interest came only in the form of a private entry from Navy Lt. Alford J. Williams with an aircraft designed by Charles Kirkham. Looking like an enlarged Curtiss R3C, the Kirkham-Williams was to be powered by the 1,250hp Packard X-2775 engine, a 24-cylinder X configuration engine basically comprising the cylinder banks from two Packard V-1500 12-cylinder vee engines stacked one on top of the other on a shared crankcase. Problems with the engine and doubts over its performance relative to the competition meant that the aircraft was withdrawn. In the meantime, Britain was starting to take the contest much more seriously and had understood that specially trained pilots would be required to get the best out of high-speed aircraft such as those required to win the Schneider Trophy. In the period following the 1925 contest, the Air Ministry had contracted Gloster, Short and Supermarine to produce racing seaplanes and, in 1926, the RAF High Speed Flight was established to provide the pilots who would fly these designs. The result of these efforts was ten new racing aircraft to three different designs, the most that Britain had ever assembled to contest the Schneider Trophy. Gloster had built three Gloster IV biplanes to individual and slightly different specifications, all using versions of the Napier Lion VII engine. Supermarine had built a similar number of S.5 monoplanes using the same powerplants, while the Short-Bristow Crusader (nicknamed “Curious Ada” by the pilots of the High Speed Flight) ploughed a slightly different furrow in that it used an 860hp Bristol Mercury 9-cylinder radial engine. With the Kirkham-Williams racer already out of the contest and the Italian team set, the British took as many as six of their potential entries to Venice for final evaluation; two Gloster IVs (IVA and IVB), the Crusader and two or possibly three of the Supermarine S.5s. The Crusader had been troublesome from the start and the selection of a radial engine had resulted in an aircraft with a huge frontal area which made streamlining difficult. In the end, it was withdrawn following a crash on a test flight caused by the aileron control wires having been reversed. In the end, the decision was made to enter two of the S.5s and the Gloster IVB, which would become the last biplane ever to contest the Schneider Trophy. The design of the Supermarine S.5 incorporated some of the lessons learned the hard way with the S.4. There would be no unbraced cantilever wings and the general layout of the aircraft was changed to improve visibility for the pilot. The Napier Lion VII engine now lived under a very close-fitting cowling to reduce drag and use was made of wing surface radiators for cooling. Engine oil was cooled in corrugations that ran down the fuselage sides. Given the success of the Macchi M.39, Italy decided to take a slightly more conservative, evolutionary approach. The result would be the Macchi M.52, powered by the 1,000hp FIAT AS.3, the most powerful engine used in the contest at the time. Problems during testing meant that some concerns remained about the reliability of the engine so, to act as an insurance policy, one of the Macchi M.52s would fly with the older 800hp AS.2 powerplant. Caution regarding engine reliability was clearly well-placed. Just as he crossed the start line, the AS.3 in Capt. Arturo Ferrarin’s M.52 expired and he was out of the race immediately. Maj. Mario de Bernardi, flying the other AS.3 powered M.52, lasted only until the second lap when a connecting rod failed and punched a hole in the crankcase. The hopes of Italy retaining the Schneider Trophy rested on the shoulders of Capt. Frederico Gauzetti in the third of the Macchis, but the technique favoured by the Italian team for taking the almost 180 degree turns on the course was not as efficient as the British technique and he started to fall behind. In the end, his race was ended prematurely when a fuel line broke and sprayed fuel around and into the cockpit forcing his retirement. Also forced into retiring was Flt Lt. S. Kinkead in the Gloster IVB, which had appeared to lose performance as the race went on. When the aircraft was inspected it was found that the splined propellor shaft had cracked three quarters of the way around its circumference. This just left the two Supermarine S.5s to complete the race, with Flt Lt. S. Webster coming in ahead of Flt Lt. O. Worsley. Webster, who had lost track of how many laps he had flown, flew one additional lap just to make sure of the victory. An unsuccessful world speed record attempt was made using an S.5 flown by Flt Lt. Kinkead. Diving into the run to gain speed, Kinkead failed to level out and flew the S.5 into the sea, causing his death. It is likely that the conditions (flat calm sea and light mist) meant that he failed to see the horizon and that he could not correctly judge his height and the attitude of the aircraft in order to pull up. Image from Wikimedia. Supermarine S.6 (Calshot 1929) -->

<-- Curtiss R3C-2 (Baltimore 1925) The USA had inflicted two crushing defeats on the European nations to win the Schneider Trophy twice in successive contests. Now they, like Italy before, were in the position to take permanent possession of the Trophy if only they could win the next race at Hampton Roads on Chesapeake Bay. The Europeans were scrambling to catch up and made suggestions for rule changes in an effort to level the playing field. The British wanted a postponement until 1927, arguing that the annual cycle of events did not give enough time to develop high-speed aircraft, while the French and Italians argued for 400kg of ballast to be carried by all competitors. Both suggestions were rejected. The result of this was that there would be no entries from either France or Britain, despite plenty of patriotic fervour in British aviation circles and persistent rumours of world record beating designs from Short and Supermarine. However, over in Italy, new fascist dictator Benito Mussolini had sensed an opportunity to show that fascism could achieve the impossible and was getting behind his country’s aviation industry, declaring that the Schneider Trophy must be won at all costs. To attempt to defend the Schneider Trophy, the Americans fielded a team of Curtiss R3Cs, along with a float-mounted Curtiss F6C-3 Hawk biplane fighter powered by a 520hp Curtiss D-12 engine in reserve. Two of the R3Cs received new engines, one a 685hp Curtiss V-1550 (R3C-4) and the other a 650hp Packard 2A-1500 (R3C-3), while the third retained the 565hp Curtiss V-1400 from the previous year (R3C-2). Tragedy struck when team pilots, Marine Corps Lt. H. Norton and Navy Lt. F. Conant, were both killed in separate accidents. By contrast, the Italian entry was a bold step forward. Instead of a biplane design, the Macchi M.39 was a monoplane. Mario Castoldi, Macchi’s technical director and designer, had attended the 1925 Schneider Trophy and, through observation and questioning, absorbed a lot of what was good (and bad) about the designs used that year and incorporated them into his design. Like the winning aircraft from Curtiss, his design would have a small frontal area and wing surface radiators for cooling to give maximum streamlining in the pursuit of speed. The intention had been to acquire Curtiss V-1400 engines, but this had been blocked by the USA. Consequently, it fell to FIAT to get the required power from one of their own designs, the FIAT AS.2 which managed to develop an impressive 800hp. A total of five aircraft were built, three as racers and two with longer wingspan as trainers. The Italian team suffered its own tragedy when team commandant, the Marchese Vittorio Centurione, was killed flying one of the M.39 trainers. Attrition during the contest was remarkably low. In spite of technical difficulties and damage caused by mishaps, all three aircraft in both teams were able to compete. The first casualty came in the form of the Packard powered Curtiss R3C-3, which stalled on alighting and ended up inverted in the water. Fortunately, its pilot, Navy Lt. William Tomlinson, was unhurt and could return to shore to take the reserve F6C-3 Hawk instead. The race between the Macchis and, in particular, the R3C-4 flown by Schneider Trophy veteran, Navy Lt. George Cuddihy, was close throughout. The Italian challenge weakened slightly when the M.39 of Capt. Arturo Ferrarin dropped out due to a fractured oil pipe, but in truth the leading competitors were also feeling the pace. Maj. Mario de Bernardi decided to gain height to improve engine cooling while Cuddihy’s R3C-4 was suffering fuel starvation due to a partial fuel pump failure, but entering the final lap the contest could have been won by either of them. In the end, the matter was decided when the Curtiss R3C-4 succumbed on the final lap and the race was won by Maj. de Bernardi. The undeveloped Curtiss R3C-2 still running to the previous year’s specification and flown by Lt. Christian Schilt, finished second ahead of the remaining Macchi M.39 flown by Lt. Adriano Bacula. To underline just how far racing aircraft had advanced beyond the capabilities of the military designs of the day, Lt. Tomlinson finished a distant fourth in the F6C-3 Hawk recording an average speed 110mph slower than the winning Macchi. The wishes of Il Duce to win the Schneider Trophy had been met at the first attempt, and the Italian team could celebrate with the Chianti that they had reputedly smuggled into the United States in the fuel tank of one of their aircraft to beat Prohibition restrictions on alcohol. Image from 10214092966_c2e961fa37_o_zpse41af4f3 | This Day in Aviation Supermarine S.5 (Venice 1927) -->

<-- Curtiss CR-3 (Cowes 1923) The Schneider Trophy event moved across the Atlantic to Baltimore in the USA for the first time in 1924, with a course laid out across Chesapeake Bay, but sadly there was to be no competition. Following a series of technical failures and mishaps, neither the British, Italians or French were ready for the contest and all withdrew. It would have been possible for the Americans to win the Trophy unopposed but there was no interest in doing so, and the contest was postponed until 1925. When the Schneider Trophy did finally convene on the shores of Chesapeake Bay, three teams were present; the USA, Britain and Italy. Given the technical supremacy that the Americans had shown two years previously, the Europeans had been bold with their designs and each had brought a monoplane design, the first to contest the Schneider Trophy since before the First World War, and had been especially daring in using cantilever (unbraced) wings. The Italians had brought a pair of Macchi M.33 monoplane flying boats that, in a nod to American dominance in the field, were powered by Curtiss D-12A engines, while the British had brought the Supermarine S.4 floatplane using the ever-dependable Napier Lion, now producing 700hp, backed up by a pair of Gloster III biplanes. Ranged against the European entries was a trio of Curtiss R3C-2 floatplanes. This biplane racer had been developed from the R2C-1 landplane racer and had been ready to compete the previous year. The engines were the Curtiss V-1400 rated at 565hp, which was a development of the D-12 with a better power to weight ratio. It was a compact design that shared a lot of the advantages of the older CR-3. The US pilots were split between the Navy and Army, with the Navy represented by Lt. George Cuddihy and Lt. Ralph Ofstie and the Army by test pilot Lt. James Doolittle, who would go on to further great exploits such as leading a force of B-25 bombers taking off from the carrier USS Hornet to bomb Tokyo. Conditions at Bay Shore Park were primitive, with very basic accommodation and canvas hangers which were almost wrecked in a gale. Fortunately, the weather improved enough for preliminary testing to commence. The first casualty was the ambitious Supermarine S.4 monoplane which crashed during testing. The official report stated that the crash was caused by the aircraft stalling, but Supermarine’s test pilot Henri Biard blamed wing or aileron flutter for the accident. Soon to follow was the Gloster III flown by Bert Hinkler, which was severely damaged in a heavy alighting, and Riccardo Morselli’s Macchi M.33 which suffered engine trouble. The race itself ended up being a processional affair. The three Curtiss R3C-2s were the class of the field, but of the three it was Army pilot Doolittle who displayed the greatest skill. Using his experience as a test pilot to make the turns much tighter than his Navy colleagues he was able to lap faster than them. Unfortunately, both Navy planes failed to complete the distance due to mechanical troubles and had to retire during the latter stages of the race. Hubert Broad in the Gloster III had a trouble-free run to second while 1921 Schneider Trophy winner, Giovanni di Brigante in the sole remaining Macchi M.33, came a distant third. Despite exhaustive bench testing, the Italians had never been able to get the full rated power out of the American Curtiss engine, leaving their entry seriously down on power and no match for their competitors. Once again, the USA had dominated the Schneider Trophy contest and demonstrated their supremacy. As if to hammer this home, Doolittle used his R3C-2 to raise the world speed record for seaplanes to 245.71mph. (Note: Fans of Studio Ghibli production Porco Rosso will know that the eponymous hero flies an aircraft described as a Savoia S.21, but it is actually based on the Macchi M.33. Other Schneider Trophy aircraft feature, including the Curtiss R3C.) Image from https://airandspace.si.edu/collection-objects/curtiss-r3c-2/nasm_A19280002000 Macchi M.39 (Hampton Roads 1926) -->

<-- Supermarine Sea Lion II (Naples 1922) 1923 was a watershed year for the Schneider Trophy. This would be the first year that the USA would compete with an official entry, and they would bring a number of technical innovations that would revolutionise the competition as well as a level of professionalism and preparation that would be copied by other competing nations. The American team arrived at Cowes with four different aircraft, but technical problems during preliminary testing had sidelined two of them. The remaining two aircraft were Curtiss CR-3s flown by US Navy pilots Lt. Rutledge Irvine and Lt. David Rittenhouse. All post-war Schneider Trophy contests up to this point had been won by flying boats, but the Curtiss CR-3 was a floatplane design. Originally designated CR-2 as landplane racers with wheeled undercarriage, they had competed in the Pulitzer Trophy air races and had set US absolute air speed records. It was decided that they should be converted to floatplanes and prepared to compete for the Schneider Trophy against the best European designs. The Curtiss CR-3 made use of a number of advanced features that gave it an advantage over its competitors. The first was the Curtiss D-12, a 12-cylinder vee engine producing 465hp which had a very small frontal area compared to other engine types, allowing for a more streamlined shape. The other was the use of wing surface radiators for engine cooling which did away with the need for a bulky and drag-inducing conventional radiator. This allowed the CR-3s to achieve 200mph, some 40mph more than the Supermarine Sea Lion II flying boat that had won the Trophy in Naples the previous year. Competition for the Americans came from both Britain and France, although the French suffered their usual degree of misfortune. One of a pair of Latham L.1 flying boats suffered engine trouble and was damaged en route, forcing its withdrawal, while the Blanchard-Blériot C.1 never met performance expectations and crashed after collided with another aircraft during a test flight with a more powerful engine. This left them with the remaining Latham L.1, a CAMS 36 and a CAMS 38. The British team fared little better. The brand-new Blackburn Pellet was a purpose-built racer which proved extremely troublesome. It capsized almost immediately after it was first launched and when it did fly it was found to be extremely nose-heavy while the Napier Lion engine was prone to overheating. It was finally lost during the navigability trials when its pilot, R. W. Kenworthy, tried to take avoiding action when a boat moved across his path. The aircraft took off in an exaggerated nose-up attitude, bounced off the water several times before plunging into the sea nose first, wrecking the aircraft. This left the British with just the improved and updated Supermarine Sea Lion III, the same aircraft that had won in Naples. The starting order for the race saw the two Curtiss CR-3s of Irvine and Rittenhouse start first with Henri Biard next in the Supermarine Sea Lion III. The speed of the Americans was so great that, even though the improvements to the Sea Lion III made it faster than its previous incarnation, it was impossible for Biard to match their lap times. No help would come from the French quarter as their challenge once again failed to materialise. The Latham L.1 flown by Jacques Duhamel suffered magneto failure on one of its engines forcing its withdrawal, the CAMS 36 was damaged when its pilot, Lt. Pelletier d’Oisy, collided with a moored yacht, and the CAMS 38 suffered engine trouble on the second lap forcing pilot Lt. de Vaisseau Maurice Hurel to retire. In the end, the result was inevitable. The two Curtiss CR-3s romped home ahead of the pursuing Supermarine Sea Lion III, with David Rittenhouse taking the victory ahead of Irvine. The Schneider Trophy was heading to the USA for the first time and it was clear to the Europeans that it would take something a bit special to wrest it back. Victory was no longer going to come through private entrepreneurs and gentlemen pilots simply modifying existing designs to take bigger engines. Image from Wikimedia. Curtiss R3C-2 (Baltimore 1925) -->

<-- Macchi M.7bis (Venice 1921) With two wins already secured, victory for Italy at Naples in 1922 would see them retain the Schneider Trophy for good. They came well-prepared and with a strong entry, expecting to win. However, there would be no easy “fly over,” as this year there were entries from France and Britain intent on making a contest of it. The Italians once again fielded a full team comprising three different aircraft. There were two Macchis; an M.7, similar to the previous year’s winning entry, and an M.17, and the fast and highly fancied Savoia S.51. While the Macchis were modified versions of existing designs, the Savoia was a purpose-built racer. As a consequence, the Savoia was the fastest of the three and Italy’s best hope for victory. The French brought a pair of very pretty CAMS 36 flying boats adapted for racing. The sole British entry came in the rather workmanlike shape of the Supermarine Sea Lion II flying boat. Supermarine had used the same formula they had employed with the original Sea Lion of 1919, taking an existing aircraft and garnishing it with a 450hp Napier Lion 12-cylinder “broad arrow” engine. In this case, the aircraft in question was Supermarine’s Sea King II amphibian, an already very stable and aerobatic design. Luckily these characteristics were carried forward to its new more powerful guise, something that pilot Henri Biard was probably quite thankful for when he overflew the crater of Mount Vesuvius in an attempt to look inside and was caught in a powerful thermal that lifted the aircraft a further 2,000 feet above its previous level. The contest was conducted in an atmosphere of distrust, as each team attempted to find out the capabilities of their competitors while hiding their own from each other. Biard, knowing already that the Sea Lion II was capable of speeds in excess of 150mph, never flew at full power if he suspected that he might be observed, only doing so when far out to sea beyond prying eyes, and never showed any expertise in rounding the turn markers. So successful was he in disguising the potential of the aircraft that the Italians publicly declared that the British entry was slower than both the M.17 and the S.51. It was the French team who were the first to show their hand. When one of their CAMS 36s capsized during preliminary trials the team decided to withdraw both aircraft. Controversially, the Savoia S.51 also capsized during the six-hour mooring-out trial but was righted by the Italian team in contravention of the rules. In spite of this, no protests were lodged and the S.51 was not excluded from the race. Biard in the Sea Lion II would be the first pilot to take the race start, and he opted to fly flat out. By the time all four competitors had completed the first lap it was clear that Biard was the fastest with Alessandro Passaleva in the Savoia S.51 second. Without the speed to challenge the Sea Lion II directly, the Italian pilots resorted to bunching up at the turns to try and slow the British aircraft, but Biard was able to nullify this by using his speed advantage to leapfrog over them before diving for the turn. After half distance, Biard decided to ease back on the throttle to take some of the strain from the engine, but in doing so this allowed Passaleva in the S.51 to reduce the lead he had built up. Slowly the Savoia inched closer to the Sea Lion II before Passaleva himself was forced to reduce his pace due to a vibration, and the pursuit was over. Although the capsizing of his aircraft had not resulted in its disqualification, the soaking it received meant that the laminations in the wooden propellor were starting to fail, which is what slowed his progress. Ultimately Biard won by two minutes ahead of Passaleva and Italy was denied the chance to claim permanent ownership of the Schneider Trophy. Image from https://flyingmachines.ru/Site2/Crafts/Craft30115.htm Curtiss CR-3 (Cowes 1923) -->

<-- Savoia S.12bis (Venice 1920) The Schneider Trophy meet for 1921 was held again at Venice and followed a broadly similar pattern to that established the previous year. The Italians could select their entries from a field of no fewer than sixteen aircraft, while the opposition comprised just a single entry from France. Once again, accident and technical problems had reduced the Italian field from sixteen to nine, from which three were selected for the contest. These were a Macchi M.19 and two Macchi M.7s. The Macchi M.7 was a single seat flying boat fighter which enjoyed a very long service life. Its slender hull and slightly swept-back wings made it a very pretty aircraft. In its definitive form, as the M.7ter, it was exported and used by air forces across the world. For racing, the M.7bis was stripped of its military equipment and had its wingspan reduced to help improve performance. The rules of the contest had undergone another change in order to encourage more entries. Gone was the requirement to carry 300kg of ballast and the seaworthiness trial was changed from two mandated alightings during the race to a mooring-out trial, where competing aircraft were required to be left moored, fully loaded and unattended for six hours. Once again, the French opposition dissolved when their aircraft’s alighting gear failed during the navigability trial causing it to be withdrawn, gifting the Trophy to Italy. However, there was still a race to be won between the three Italian entries to decide whose name would go on the Trophy. In the end, the race became more about reliability than speed. The crankshaft in the M.19’s Fiat engine broke and caused a fire, forcing the pilot Arturo Zanetti to alight hurriedly, and Piero Corgnolino’s M.7 ran out of fuel just 2km from the finish. The winner was Giovanni di Brigante in the slowest of the M.7s. (Finding accurate sources for modelling these aircraft has been difficult, especially for the early contests, due to the lack of photographs. Colours, markings and details have sometimes had to be guessed and reference made to verbal descriptions of what an aircraft may have looked like. This is especially the case for the Macchi M.7 that won the 1921 Schneider Trophy, as there do not appear to be any published contemporary pictures or descriptions of this aircraft. The only sources that I can find are for the M.7bis that was entered into the 1922 event, which may be a completely different aircraft. However, given the lack of information, I have no choice but to model this aircraft instead as an example of the type. I hope that I can be forgiven for this.) Image from Wikimedia. Supermarine Sea Lion II (Naples 1922) -->

<-- Sopwith Schneider Trophy (Monaco 1914) With the outbreak of hostilities in 1914, competition for aerial supremacy took on a new and more lethal form and the Schneider Trophy went into a hiatus. It wasn’t until 1919 that the next race meeting took place, but sadly it was not a glorious return as it was marred by accident, disorganisation and bad weather. As the previous meeting had been won by Britain, this first post-war event would be held at Bournemouth with a course set out over the Solent. The weather that greeted the competitors on the day of the contest was poor, as the Solent was blanketed in a thick mist. It was decided to delay the start, but when the mist started to lift word came that the start time would be brought forward. The French team, who had taken the opportunity to carry out repairs to their entries which had been damaged en route to the event, decided they would not be ready in time and withdrew. The British team fared little better. Harry Hawker in the Sopwith Schneider (a totally different design to the 1914 contest winner) and Vincent Nicholl in the Fairey III gave up on the first lap after Nicholl narrowly avoided colliding with a ship’s mast and another aircraft due to poor visibility. The team’s third entry, Basil Hobbs flying the Supermarine Sea Lion, had alighted in Swanage Bay, fearful that he would fly into the cliffs in the poor visibility. He attempted to fly back to the start to get his bearings and start again but struck an object in the water and holed the hull which caused the aircraft to flood and invert when he made his first mandated alighting. In the meantime, Italian air force pilot Sgt Guido Jannello in a Savoia S.13 flying boat continued to pound around, but it was noticed that his lap times were too fast compared to what was known about the speed of the aircraft. He was advised to fly an additional lap to ensure that he had covered the correct distance but was concerned that he had insufficient fuel to comply with this. Sure enough he was right and ended up stranded out in the Solent waiting for a rescue boat to find him. Jannello was initially disqualified for failing to complete the course, a fact confirmed by the crew of the marker boat at the Swanage turn who said they had not seen him at all. When asked to indicate on a map where he had turned, Jannello indicated a location in Studland Bay where a reserve marker boat had been moored. When the Italian team protested, the committee decided to award Jannello the win after all, but this decision was overturned by the FAI. The race was declared void, but Italy was awarded the right to host the next event. If the 1919 Schneider Trophy meeting had been a farce, the 1920 meeting at Venice was a damp squib. The inevitable post-war economic downturn meant that there were no entries from Britain while France entered only a single aircraft. When the French entry was inevitably withdrawn before the race, just the Italian team was left. The Italians had a choice of four designs, but technical problems ruled out all but one from competing, a Savoia S.12bis flying boat specially prepared for racing and flown by naval pilot Lt. Luigi Bologna. This relatively large aircraft had been the prototype for a seaplane bomber but the design had not been taken-up by the Italian military, making it available for modification as a racer. The span of both the mainplanes and tailplane were reduced and power came courtesy of a 550hp Ansaldo-San Giorgio 12-cylinder engine. Its size made it well suited to a new rule introduced by Italy which required all entrants to carry 300kg of ballast to represent a payload. Although the event had become a “fly over,” high winds and rough seas still provided a challenge to be overcome, but the large Savoia proved equal to these and completed the race distance without incident. Image from Wikimedia. Macchi M.7bis (Venice 1921) -->

<-- Deperdussin Monocoque Coupe Schneider (Monaco 1913) Having won in 1913, France chose to run the 1914 Schneider Trophy contest in Monaco over exactly the same course as before. With the previous year’s success in mind, the entry list was swelled with entries from France, Germany, Switzerland, Britain and the USA. However, in spite of the increasingly international nature of the entry list, the aircraft entered were still predominantly of French origin. One notable exception to this was the Sopwith Tabloid Schneider. Originally flown in 1913, the Sopwith Tabloid was a small two-seat biplane powered by an 80hp Gnome 9-cylinder rotary engine. Seeing the potential of racing for publicity as well as technical development, T. O. M. Sopwith sought permission to remove one airframe from the production line to modify into a single seat seaplane racer. This aircraft would be powered by a 100hp Gnome “Monosoupape” 9-cylinder rotary engine that Sopwith himself brought back from Paris on the train as part of his personal luggage. The development of this aircraft did not go smoothly. Initially it was equipped with a large central float but, while being tested on the River Hamble, the nose of the float dug in when the throttle was opened and the aircraft capsized and sank. It wasn’t until the following morning that the aircraft could be recovered from the river and returned to the factory for repair. With time running short the solution was to simply saw the central float in half lengthways to create a pair of floats. Testing of the new arrangements were limited due to the interference of the Thames Conservancy Board, but the new floats mounted further forward under the aircraft were found to be satisfactory. When the British team arrived at Monaco they were initially dismissed by their rivals. The small biplane design was not considered as advanced as the French monoplanes, and the measly 100hp produced by the 9-cylinder engine, already showing signs of rust following its dip in the Hamble, was around half that produced by the 18-cylinder dual-row engines they used. However, they were soon to be disabused of their opinions. With Sopwith test pilot Howard Pixton at the controls, the Tabloid Schneider took off fourth behind the Nieuports of Gabriel Espanet and Pierre Levasseur, and Swiss pilot Ernest Burri in an FBA flying boat. Pixton carried out the two mandated alightings and take-offs on the first lap without reducing speed and got round in half the time of his nearest competitor, going on to build up a commanding lead. The pursuing Nieuports were pushed hard to try to keep up, but both were forced to drop out when their engines overheated resulting in seized pistons. Having seen the speed of the Sopwith, Charles Weymann and Roland Garros delayed their starts, opting to wait and see if Pixton would fail to complete the distance. In the end, Weymann and Garros waited in vain. Although the Sopwith’s engine developed a misfire on one cylinder and the speed dropped, lap times improved again and it could not prevent the little biplane from completing the course. Pixton went on to fly an additional two laps to secure a new world seaplane speed record over 300km. Although the French had been soundly beaten there was magnanimity in victory, as Sopwith reasoned that the win would not have been possible without the use of the French engine. The Sopwith Tabloid Schneider became the pattern for the Sopwith Schneider scout (fighter) of the First World War. This seaplane was used by the Royal Navy Air Service (RNAS) in defence of Britain against Zeppelin raids. The Sopwith company went on to produce some of the Royal Flying Corps (RFC) best known fighters, such as the Pup and Camel. After the First World War it was taken over and formed the basis of the Hawker Aircraft company, going on to produce the Hurricane, Typhoon, Tempest, Hunter and Harrier. Image from Wikimedia. Savoia S.12bis (Venice 1920) -->

I had a little dabble with trains and EV3. Maybe this will be of some help...?

<-- Introduction The first ever Schneider Trophy meeting was held in 1913 at Monaco. Given France’s pre-eminent position in the field of aviation at this point in history, it is perhaps not surprising that the majority of entries for the first ever Schneider Trophy were French. The only exception to this was Charles Weymann who, although educated in France and flying a French Nieuport aircraft, was representing the USA. As might be expected, this first meeting was to be a test of endurance rather than out-and-out speed. First away was Maurice Prévost in a Deperdussin Monocoque design. Although slower than Weymann and Gabriel Espanet in their Nieuports, Prévost was able to build a lead thanks to his superior technique in taking the turns on the course. One by one, the challenge of the Nieuports faded as each in turn dropped out with engine trouble. Having completed the race distance, Prévost alighted and taxi-ed across the finish line. This was a mistake as the rules called for competitors to fly over the finish line, and so he was disqualified. He initially refused advice to go back up and comply with the rule, but when he saw that his final competitor, Roland Garros at the controls of a Morane-Saulnier, had managed to overcome some initial engine troubles and enter the race, he saw sense. He quickly took off and flew over the finish line to be declared the winner. The Deperdussin Monocoque Coupe Schneider flown by Prévost was an enlarged version of the landplane design that had proven so adept at winning races in the Gordon Bennett Trophy series as well as netting a number of performance records. The Monocoque name referred to the method of construction, whereby the fuselage was constructed in two halves using wood laminations glued together over formers and then joined, giving the fuselage it’s strength. Designed by Louis Bécherau, it was powered by a 160hp 14-cylinder dual-row Gnome rotary engine and equipped with pontoon-style floats. In spite of the many successes that came the way of Bécherau’s designs under the Deperdussin banner, the company was not to survive the discovery that Armand Deperdussin had built his success on money that was not his own. Arrested and convicted of fraud in 1913, Deperdussin was to take his own life eleven years later. The company was taken over by Louis Blériot the name was changed from Société pour les Appariels Deperdussin (SPAD) to Société Anonyme pour l’Aviation et ses Dérivés (SPAD), under which banner Bécherau designed the famous Spad fighters of the First World War. Image from Wikimedia. Sopwith Tabloid Schneider (Monaco 1914) -->

As a small plane-obsessed boy I was obviously aware of the Schneider Trophy. I knew that Britain won the Trophy three times in a row in order to retain it permanently, and that the aircraft that finally achieved this success went on to inspire the design of the Spitfire. It was only relatively recently, when I was designing a model of the Supermarine Baby seaplane fighter, that I learned that it formed the basis of the Supermarine Sea Lion, the company’s first foray into the Schneider Trophy, something that I had previously been unaware of. Clearly there was a lot that I did not know about this important race series, and so I set out to find out more. This lead on to a desire to build a model of each of the winning aircraft designs, and in doing so to tell the story of the Schneider Trophy. The idea for a Trophy for seaplanes came from Jacques Schneider, heir to a French arms manufacturer. He was a keen hydroplane racer and had become an avid aviation enthusiast after meeting Wilbur Wright in 1908. He had seen how air racing had helped to develop land-based aviation and was keen to generate the same benefits for marine aviation. The idea was that competition would help to improve technology and in turn to foster a global transport revolution based on marine aviation. Any aero club affiliated to the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale (FAI) could challenge the trophy-holding club. Organised along national lines, each team would comprise a maximum of three entries and the club that fielded the winning entry would host the following contest. Although the Schneider Trophy is best known today as a race, it was a little more complicated than that. Entries were tested not only for airworthiness, but also for seaworthiness. While the winning entry would be the one that completed the race distance (not less than 150 nautical miles over open sea) in the fastest time, it could not do so unless it had already passed a number of trials to prove its design. Navigability (the ability of the aircraft to make progress on the water) and seaworthiness (how well the aircraft could cope with sea conditions) were as important as speed through the air. The rules were tweaked from time to time, but the aims remained the same even if the long-terms goals were somewhat lost. What resulted from this contest was perhaps the greatest outpouring of technical development in aviation during peacetime. Aircraft and engine design, materials science and pilot skills were all hugely advanced during the course of the Schneider Trophy, creating aircraft that could fly at speeds far in excess of the military designs of the day. Air speed records would tumble and pilots taking part in the contest would be the fastest human beings of their age. Here, then, is the story of the Schneider Trophy and the winning designs. I will be adding further models over the coming days to illustrate the extraordinary story of the Trophy Series, so keep checking back for updates. (Note: I will be presenting the models as a mixture of photos and decorated renders. The reason for doing this is that it is easier to show the details of each build using renders than it is by photographing the real models.) Deperdussin Monocoque Coupe Schneider (Monaco 1913) -->