COVER STORY

Tiger Moth

Craig VanderKolk

24 SEPTEMBER 2005
Flying Qualities of an honest airplane

I
Ed Kolano have my leather flying helmet. I have my
goggles. Mike Williams, of Mike’s Hangar &
Aircraft Restoration and owner of the airplane,
completed my cockpit briefing: Don’t pay any
attention to the airspeed indicator or the “very
insensitive” altimeter. Noticing my sideways glance
under raised eyebrows, he offered,
“The airplane’ll talk to you.” He probably
caught my broadening grin. Keep an
eye on oil temperature and
pressure. Any questions?
Just one. Where’s
my silk
scarf?

Mike Steineke

EAA Sport Aviation 25

 Bravado aside, I had a few
trepidations about this flight. Rich
Davidson and I were scheduled
to fly this airplane during EAA
AirVenture 2002, but bad weather
scrubbed that flight. At EAA
AirVenture 2003 we made it 5 miles
from Wittman Field, still at 500
feet above the ground to comply
with the departure instructions,
when the propeller threw 2 inches
of its metal leading edge from one
of its wood blades. Of course, we
didn’t know the source of all that
shaking at the time. A quick look
at the wings and tail and a survey
of the limited engine instruments
gave no clues. But the little engine
that could chugged us back to
the airport where the controllers
cooperatively cleared us for an
immediate landing, which
Davidson completed flawlessly.
Third time’s a charm, right?
Well, it turned out to be just
The top wing is equipped with leading edge slats outboard of the
wing struts.
26 SEPTEMBER 2005
that. The sky was clear. The wind
was calm. And the airplane had a
brand new propeller.
Although there are little fold-
down panels on either side of the
cockpit, entry is really a vertical
affair. After stepping onto a rather
aggressive-looking non-skid
surface on the left wing, I grabbed
the handhold at the rear of the
front cockpit, took one large step
onto the rear cockpit seat with
each foot, and then walked down
from there. With the doors up,
there’s about 23 inches between
their upper edges, which were
shoulder height. Sounds narrow,
but that’s not how it feels. The
cockpit is wider below shoulder
height. It’s cozy but not cramped,
and everything I needed to touch
could be easily reached, including
the mag switches mounted on the
outside of the fuselage between
the cockpits.
Craig VanderKolk
The throttle is where you’d
expect it on the left side of the
cockpit above and forward of the
pitch trim lever. Trim can be set
in 29 discreet increments, which
turned out to be about 25 more
than I needed. There’s a similar
lever on the right side used to
limit upper wing leading edge slat
deployment. I flew with the lever
all the way forward, allowing the
independent slats to automatically
deploy fully at higher angles of
attack (AOA). Placing the lever
all the way aft locks the slats in
their retracted position for spins,
lomcevaks, and other rapidly
changing AOA maneuvers. Sadly,
we did not get to enjoy these
maneuvers—no chutes.
The control stick travel,
measured at the top of the grip,
was 16.5 inches longitudinally
and 17 inches laterally. Rudder
pedals could be displaced at least a
couple of inches fore and aft. Heel
brakes were installed in the rear
cockpit only.
Instrumentation was vintage:
Airspeed, altimeter, turn needle
and sideslip pointer, tach, oil temp,
oil pressure, and a horizontally
mounted compass that protruded
from the wood panel. A pocket
watch also occupied the panel—
not original but a nice touch. We
also had a handheld VHF radio
and portable intercom to make
life a little easier flying during EAA
AirVenture. The radio’s temporary
mount precluded the adjustment
of the slat lever.
The field of view (FOV) from the
rear seat is quite limited for taxiing
in congested areas. The forward
fuselage obstructed the entire 50-
foot wide taxiway ahead except
for a wedge of concrete extending
about 25 feet ahead of the lower
wing. With the doors folded down
and my arm outside, I could lean
to either side up to my armpit to
sight forward along the fuselage.
This allowed me to keep my S-
turns to about 20 degrees. With
the doors up, the heading changes

Despite fold-down ‘doors,’ entry into the cockpit is still a rather vertical affair.
needed were at least double.
The tail wheel was not connected
to the pedals. The rudder pushed
the tail wheel left and right, so
taxi turn radius was limited by the
+/-30 degrees of rudder deflection,
making pivot turns impossible
without blasting the rudder with
prop wash and scraping the tail
wheel around the corner. There
was sufficient authority for normal
taxi turns.
Slightly more than idle power
kept the airplane rolling on level
grass or pavement. Pulling the
throttle to idle slowed the plane
to a graceful stop. More aggressive
slowing took at least 50 pounds
of brake pedal effort for mediocre
results.
Easing the throttle forward
for takeoff, the airplane tracked
straight with only minor pedal
activity. I held the stick a couple
of inches forward of neutral,
and the tail moseyed up about 5
seconds after power-up. Although
the 145-hp Gypsy Moth inverted
four-cylinder engine turned the
propeller counterclockwise, there
was no significant left pedal
requirement when the tail came
up. Not twitchy in the least, the
appropriate two-point attitude was
slightly tail-low, and the airplane
gently rose from the runway
about 5 seconds after tail-up. The
airspeed needle was slowly passing
50 mph. The largest control force
involved was 7-10 pounds of stick
push during the initial takeoff
roll.
As a member of that unique
population of multitaskers known
as pilots, I made easy work of
establishing the 60 mph climb
speed while listening to this
repeated comment: “This is so
cool!” Pitch attitude during the
climb was deceiving. All that
airplane in front of me gave the
impression of 20 degrees nose-
Craig VanderKolk
up, but it was probably much
less. Measuring the climb rate
was a brief bit of futility, because
one complete revolution of the
altimeter needle spanned 17,000
feet. I estimate we zorched upward
at no more than 300 fpm loaded
with two pilots and full fuel.
Heading changes of +/-20 degrees
allowed peeks ahead during the
climb.
Leveling off what seemed like
a few days later, I set the throttle
to keep the tach needle bouncing
between 1950 and 2050 rpm.
The airspeed indicator vibrated
between 85 and 90 mph. There
was also a vane airspeed indicator
on the left wing strut that showed
80 to 85 mph. Resetting the pitch
trim lever’s pin two holes more
forward than the takeoff setting
was about right for cruising.
The elevator, like ailerons and
rudder, was controlled by cables,
and there was a good bit of free
EAA Sport Aviation 27

Fully loaded, the airplane climbed at a modest 300 fpm.
play, aka slop, in the system. There
was also some friction. These
combined to create a potential
for pilot-induced oscillations
when attempting the simple task
of flying straight and level. Here’s
how it went. To stop a slow nose-
up pitch, I’d have to push the stick
across nearly an inch of travel
where nothing happened (free-
play band), and then a bit more
forward (2-3 pounds) to actually
change the elevator’s deflection.
Now, with the nose coming back
down to where it should be, I’d
relax my push, but the friction
held the elevator at its airplane-
nose-down deflection. So, I’d
have to repeat the process in
the pull direction. Each cycle of
this control stick hunting took
about 2 seconds. There were two
immediate solutions. I could have
continued to bounce back and
forth across the free-play band
in a continuous series of tiny
corrections, or I could nudge the
28 SEPTEMBER 2005
stick into the friction, apply a quick
counter-correction in the opposite
direction to stop the pitch rate,
and then consciously return the
stick to anywhere within the free-
play band when the elevator was
in the correct position. Option
B became the method du jour.
(Mike Williams reports that he
has since re-rigged the elevator
control system, and the pitch-
hunting tendency is gone.)
Actually, there was a third
solution, which really became the
primary answer. Don’t fly straight
and level. There was way too much
fun to be had with the Moth to
waste time in non-maneuvering
flight.
Using the same “just blowin’
the carbon out” logic teenage
drivers use with their parents’ cars,
I saw maneuvering as a necessary,
effective implementation of my
see-and-avoid responsibility. I have
no analogy for repeatedly seeing
and avoiding throughout the
Mike Steineke
entire sphere of sky surrounding
the airplane—just being thorough,
I guess.
Despite the control system
friction, which is also apparent in
the roll axis along with more than
an inch of free play, the feel of the
airplane still inspired confidence.
Roll control forces are low; I’d
estimate 2-3 pounds to start the
plane rolling and no more than
10-12 pounds of force for full-stick
displacement. With the maximum
average roll rate probably around
60 degrees/second using just
enough rudder for coordination,
the low stick force beckoned tireless
exploitation. The roll performance
should be no surprise. First, two
wings had to be paddled through
the air. There were ailerons only on
the lower wing. And the ailerons
behaved more like spoilers—full
left stick deflected the left aileron
upward fully (except for the last
fraction of an inch of stick travel
that actually decreased the surface
deflection slightly), but the right
aileron deflected downward just
a few degrees. Once established
in a left bank, the airplane slowly
rolled toward wings-level with the
controls released. In a right bank
it maintained the bank angle on
its own.
There was a substantial positive
dihedral effect. I’d step on a pedal,
and the plane yawed and rolled
in the direction of applied pedal.
The difference in roll performance
between full-stick, full-pedal roll
rate, and full-stick pedals-free roll
rate was huge. Although the spoiler
action of the differential ailerons
is designed to minimize adverse
yaw, there was still enough to
warrant a conscious coordination
effort.
Control forces during pitching
maneuvers were also low enough
for a prolonged round of Red Baron.
Aggressive pitch maneuvering was
not about g in the Tiger Moth,
but the pitch rate was impressive.
Rolled to nearly 90 degrees of bank,
I gave the stick a modest pull, 10-
15 pounds, and the nose swept
the horizon at a conservatively
High nose angle limits forward visibility on the ground.
30 SEPTEMBER 2005
estimated 60 degrees/second. Of
course, the increased induced drag
bled the speed off rapidly, but
this performance sure allowed for
expeditious seeing and avoiding.
Throughout the rolling and
pitching the slats moved out
and in, but their action was so
transparent that I knew it was
happening only when watching
them.
“There is one problem with
the airplane, and it’s a serious
one. If you fly the airplane,
you’re going to want one.”
The airplane’s predictable,
friendly behavior was supported
by its stability characteristics.
A single, small pitch overshoot
followed an abrupt stick pull or
push. Alternately kicking the
pedals resulted in just two yaw/roll
overshoots after the pedals were
held fixed. Without fixing the
pedals, the airplane’s single Dutch
roll oscillation occurred as the
plane rolled slowly to the right.
It would perform a slow (about 2
degrees/second yaw rate) flat turn
to the right unless a little—maybe
5 pounds—of left pedal was held
during wings-level flight.
Idle stalls were not stalls at
all. Full aft stick took at least
20 pounds of effort, and the
airplane gently descended with
the airspeed needle wandering
between 50 and 60 mph. The vane
indicator showed its minimum
40 mph speed. Roll and yaw
controls continued to provide
their intended functions with
no indication of an impending
departure. Relaxing the pull caused
the expected airspeed increase.
Repeating the stall from
a steeper nose-up attitude had
the airplane about 15 degrees
nose-high when I felt the stick
reach its aft stop. The airspeed
indicator was showing in excess
of 5 mph/second deceleration
Craig VanderKolk
passing through the 40 mph mark
when the nose lowered to about
10 degrees below the horizon in a
manner that might be personified
as apologetic. From there the
plane sought the same non-wing-
rocking descent as before.
Flying around at the final
approach speed of 60 mph, the
airplane’s response to flight control
displacements was slower. More
rudder coordination was required,
but there were no particular
piloting challenges to achieving
my desired response.
Preparing for pattern work, I
tried to compare the descent rates
between straight flight and a full
slip, both at 60 mph with idle
power. Due to the meager 1/8 inch
between hundred-foot marks on the
altimeter, I couldn’t measure the
difference with numbers. However,
I can say—emphatically—that
the slip transforms the machine
into an elevator—the express
one. Interestingly, you run out of
lateral stick long before reaching
full pedal. Applying more pedal
would probably have increased
the descent rate, but it would have
been while turning.
The marked difference in
descent rate between straight and
slipping flight came in handy on
final approach. I could make small
adjustments in glidepath with
the flight controls while keeping
airspeed and power constant.
Considering the slip was necessary
to see the 50-foot wide grass strip,
this character was a welcomed,
easily performed feature. With the
fold-down doors open for pattern
Craig VanderKolk
work, I could poke my head to out
the side and keep the runway in
sight on final approach with less
slipping than would have been
required with the doors up. There Vane airspeed indicator on the
were no flaps, fuel selectors, boost left strut didn’t precisely match
pumps, or any other modern the panel-mounted one, but it’s a
contrivances on the Tiger Moth, nice touch.
EAA Sport Aviation 31
 only was invisible.
Upon our return, Williams was
aside the 64-year-old airplane as
soon as the prop stopped turning,
seeking my impressions. Trying to
gather my thoughts while my inner
child-pilot was shouting, “Let’s do
it again!” I recalled what he said
at the completion of my preflight
briefing. He turned toward me
with an attention-capturing, eye-
to-eye expression and said, “There
is one problem with the airplane,
and it’s a serious one.” With
slightly squinted eyes and a hint
of furrowed brow he continued,
“If you fly the airplane, you’re
going to want one.” He was right.
After my flight, I lamented the
assumption of how few of these
trainers remain. There are some
airplanes they should never stop
producing, and the Tiger Moth is
high on the list.

Craig VanderKolk

Mag switches are located outside

the cockpit, but within easy reach.

reducing the traditional GUMPS

check to S for seat belt.
Carry power or fly the final
at idle—the plane doesn’t care.
Just keep the slipping descent
performance in mind. It’s a draggy
machine power-off, so there’s not
a lot of finesse time during the
flare. Even so, I found it easy
to judge height, line-up, flare
aggressiveness, and touchdown
attitude. In short, the Tiger
Moth couldn’t be a more honest
airplane. I suppose I should
mention the calm-wind caveat,
but both Davidson and Williams
say crosswinds are not a problem.
My landings were close to three-
point, but not quite. Nailing the
three-pointer would probably have
been the best idea considering the
airplane was not stalled at full aft
stick, but even with a couple of
extra mph the touchdowns were
soft with no tendency to bounce.
With both rudder and tailwheel
steering working for me during
the initial roll-out, I had no
trouble with directional control.
Out of habit I kept the stick in
my lap, but didn’t sense that this
was necessary. The transition from
mostly rudder to tailwheel steering

32 SEPTEMBER 2005