Rotor & Wing International

Ask Ray Prouty?

At AHS International’s annual Technical Forum in Fort Worth, Texas, last month, I encountered a longtime reader of R&WI.

At AHS International’s annual Technical Forum in Fort Worth, Texas, last month, I encountered a longtime reader of R&WI. This gentleman, an engineer for Bell Helicopter, kindly offered some compliments on my Editor’s Notebooks. He generally enjoyed reading them, he said, except for one in which I strayed too far into politics. He took me to task for that and cautioned me against repeating the error. Then he added:

“I really loved reading Ray Prouty’s columns. I miss him.”

Don’t we all.

A rotorcraft engineering legend, Ray began his career in 1954 at Hughes Tool Co. He went on to Sikorsky as a helicopter aerodynamicist, to a Bell stability and control specialist and to McDonnell Douglas (later Boeing) Helicopters as a group engineer for helicopters. For 30 years, Ray also wrote a column on rotorcraft aerodynamics for us. I assure you his words were consistently among our most widely read.

“Generations of rotorcraft engineers have cut their teeth on the wealth of aerodynamic knowledge that Ray so freely imparted to anyone who could understand the arcane equations underlying his conclusions, and to many, many more who may not have understood,” but they could trust his insight, we wrote upon Ray’s death October 2014.

That insight lives on in the collection of the columns Ray wrote for us. My encounter with that Bell engineer at AHS led me to believe those columns still hold interest and value for you, our readers. So, to further commemorate R&WI’s 50th anniversary this year, we plan to begin republishing those columns on our website. I hope new readers of Ray Prouty will enjoy his works and old fans will share with us their list of favorite Prouty columns. Sadly, we can “Ask Ray Prouty” no longer. But we can go on enjoying his past responses to our questions.

On a separate topic, all of us at R&WI and parent company Access Intelligence extend hearty congratulations to our colleague Woodrow Bellamy III, editor of Avionics. He was honored at the annual Aerospace Media Awards on the eve of the Paris Air Show as 2017’s recipient of the Bill Gunston Technology Writer Of The Year Award.

Sponsored by Boeing, the award is named after the renowned and prodigious aviation historian, author and journalist. Born in England in 1927, Gunston was a de Havilland Mosquito and single-seat Vampire fighter pilot and instructor with the Royal Air Force in the mid-1940s. In 1951, he joined the editorial staff of Flight (now FlightGlobal) and became its technical editor, then went on to become editor of the legendary aviation reference Jane’s Aero-Engines. He authored more than 300 books and countless articles.

Competition for the award was stiff. Other nominees included Stephen Trimble of FlightGlobal, Patrick Veillette of Business & Commercial Aviation, Peter Donaldson of Shephard Media, Bill Read of Aerospace and Suman Sharma of Chindits. Woodrow’s honor was well warranted. Having observed his work over the past two years, I consider him cut from similar cloth as Gunston. RWI

A Toast to Load Masters

The purpose of the trip was to help a client evaluate an experimental firefighting apparatus.

I write this June 15, the week after I was in Ottawa, Canada. A little flat, lots of green stuff and anywhere you step off pavement, you get wet. I have to say the Canadians I ran into are true glass-half-full folks. They would say, “Nice day, eh,” “No wind, eh,” “No clouds, eh.” I’d say, “Great day? It’s 42 **** degrees on June 6. You’re crazy...eh!” (The next day was a nice day. I even managed to work without a sweater after 10 a.m.)

The purpose of the trip was to help a client evaluate an experimental firefighting apparatus. The device generates and drops a swath of very-high-expansion foam while being hauled via helicopter on a 100-foot line. All of this was conducted at Helicopter Transport Services (Canada)’s hangar outside Ottawa. Its chief pilot, Michel Bussieres, was our pilot for the day. I must say, the professionalism and hospitality of Michel and his people were very welcomed.

The initial briefing went well — a Bell Helicopter 212 was to be employed and a dirt runway was the target du jour — until Michel asked who was going to be his load master. I, of course, thought that somebody would volunteer for that job, but when I looked around, everyone was looking at me.

This reminded me of the induction center stories regarding the U.S. military draft in the late 1960s, when draftees were directed to line up in a single line, shoulder-to-shoulder, and to count off by threes. The Army sergeant told the ones and twos to take one step back. At this point, a Marine Corps sergeant walked in and said,

“Congratulations, threes, you are now part of Uncle Sam’s Marine Corps!”

At this point, I knew I had rolled a three. I have spent a career making a concerted effort at being the picker-upper rather than the hooker-upper. This all relates to one of my first days in Vietnam. I didn’t have an assignment one day, so somebody decided I should go out and monitor the landing zone. At the landing zone, Chinooks were lifting full conex shipping containers two at a time. Just as I arrived, I observed a loader on top of the conex container trying to hook the very short lead line to the belly hook on the CH-47. The Chinook came so low that the loader was forced to jump down between the two roughly 6,000-pound conex containers. At about that time, the pilot pulled the Chinook up and the two containers slammed together with the loader in the middle. That’s when I decided working under helicopters was not conducive to longevity.

Michel and I discussed how he was going to handle the load, where he wanted me to be located and, most importantly, which way I was to run if things go wrong. What could possibly go wrong with an experimental unit that had never been flown before, lifted on a 100-foot line?

As the operation began, I was well equipped with my favorite Trans Aero yellow baseball hat, eye protection and hearing protection. My wife will tell you that hearing protection for me is about as useful as birth control pills to a pregnant woman. But us more experienced folks need to set a good example for the fledgling aviators.

On the first lift, all went well until my bright yellow hat got ripped off by rotor wash — even though I had a headset on. Nice thing about yellow is you can see it when the thing winds up 100 yards from where you are standing. Bad thing is, 100 yards out and back, in Ottawa, on grass, means you will be working with wet socks and shoes for the rest of the day.

The rest of the day was spent ingesting Ottawa’s fine sand and gravel, getting doused with high-density foam and getting sunburn, beak and cheeks. So much for my plan of wearing a hat.

In the end, my client got his data, the folks at Helicopter Transport Services did a great job, and I used all the hot water the hotel had in one shower.

I will now offer to anyone that has ever worked under a helicopter I flew the following piece of advice: Next time I see you, the first drink is on me. You earned it. RWI