Name That Plane

This is one fast, sexy looking bird and lives next door to 817SP

 OK, it looks easy right?

You say it's a P-51,  and of course it is a P-51 - that's one of the most identifiable aircraft of World War II.

But wait, let's test your knowledge further, is it a P-51 A?  Is it a P-51 B, or is it a C model?  Now those who really know their planes will tell you this is a P-51D, because the A, B, and C all lacked the highly identifiable "bubble canopy".

Cavalier II Mustang, with Merlin V-12 engine

So, it's a P-51D you say?  Look closely at the end of the wings....what are those doing there?
Tip tanks were not in use during the second world war, but this was clearly a military P-51D.  And there's a local connection too.

The year is 1957 (I'm ten years old, but know a P-51 from a P-40 as well as a P-38) and the last of the active duty P-51's have been pulled from Air National Guard service, with many released to the civilian market.

David Lindsay, a newspaper publisher, forms Trans Florida Aviation in Sarasota, to transform these former warbirds into well equipped and fast civilian business aircraft.  He bought up surplus P-51s and added a second seat, updated the avionics, and installed a new tail (taller) vertical stabilizer with a laminar flow airfoil.  He called these "Cavaliers".  The plane, known for its ability to protect the bombers all the way to Berlin and back, was a logical choice for CEO's wishing a fast, long range (110 gallons on the Cavalier 2500) and plush.  Lindsay renamed Trans Florida into Cavalier Aircraft and purchased the right to the P-51 from North American Aviation.   He would gain Military Assistance Program money from the federal government and also convert P-51D's for several South American air forces.   The Cavalier Mustang project ran its course, but not before one was modified from the Merlin V-12 engine to be powered by a Rolls Royce Dart 510 - at Lindsay's expense.  The military here (USAF) and elsewhere were not interested, in this Turbo Mustang III, and Cavalier sold that project to Piper.  Piper built two (2) PA-48 Enforcers, but they had little in common with the original P-51.

This Cavalier conversion has returned home to SRQ, now has a hanger next to the Manatee Sheriff's Helicopters at Retrix North Fixed Base Operation.  It had spent a number of years with the El Salvadoran Air Force

I'm now the oldest Wild

My uncle's ashes, held for internment in the family plot (5 generations already) in Noblesville, Indiana

John David & William Logan Wild

Sadly, following the loss of my Uncle Jim, I'm now the oldest, by two years, of the Wild family in Florida.  That's my cousin, William Logan Wild, standing next to me in the parking lot of The Christian Church in the Wildwood, near Weeki Wachee, Florida, where the memorial service was held.

My uncle's health took a turn for the worst while we were in Hawaii, and he passed away several weeks ago at age 87.  My dad, "Colonel Jack", who was his older brother, passed away eight years ago at age 86.  Dad called Jim "PeeWee".  Jim hated it.  I don't recall having given my little brother a nick name - maybe we learn over time and don't follow every nutty family tradition.

Aside from the fact gravity is conspiring to put me into the ground (as seen in the picture with my taller cousin Bill), I hope to have another twenty good years left on this big blue marble.  My mom, whom I'm convinced "enjoys poor health" is still in there pitching at age 94.  She still lives in the same house (since 1955) in Indianapolis, the ancestral home of the Wilds.  She turned 94 on February 20th, which was also the day the Lord took my Uncle Jim home.

God bless my little brother, age 56, for watching Mary Catherine Stair Wild, born 2-20/20 (although her eyes now require glasses).  His name is George Daniel Wild, named after my mom's uncle and her grandfather.  I'm John David, not sure why (maybe it's biblical, could be the UPS guy), but most likely because my mother had the "naming rights" and was determined I'd not become John Franklin Wild IV.  Dad was J.F. Wild III, his father was Jr., and John Franklin ("Frank") was the banker.  My son's middle name is Benjamin - none in the family (although his visage is on the five dollar bill....Franklin, get it?  OK, another reach).

Back to Uncle Jim, or James Pierce Wild.  His mother was Lucille Pierce (of the Franklin Pierce ancestry)..........gee, there's Franklin again.  Cousin Bill is William Logan Wild.  His mother is Margaret Logan Wild.  Aha - now we're starting to understand American family naming traditions.

My daughter is Caitlin Case Wild.  The Case comes from my wife's mother's name (Nancy Case Frampton).  I wanted to also give my daughter my mother's maiden name, but Elizabeth balked at a double middle name of Caitlin Stair Case Wild.  I told her two middle names (ex. George Herbert Walker Bush) was "oh so social", and with a Stair Case she could easily climb that ladder.

Well, hopefully the next time we get together (the William Wilds of Atlanta, the Julie Wild Malott's of Spring Hill, and the many grandchildren AND even a great grandchild, will be for a wedding and not a funeral.   It was a nice sendoff for Uncle Jim, another member of the Greatest Generation and a U.S. Navy veteran.  Bill also is a Navy vet, and his son Daniel just retired from the Air Force.  And there's another family military tradition, but we'll save that for another day, another blog.

James Pierce Wild, USN, I salute you for your service, and love you for being the father figure in the family for the last eight years.  Now the title falls to me, and I'll wear it proudly until my demise.

Fifi flies in, wins the hearts and minds,

and leaves the crowd calling for more.  And yes, there indeed was a crowd, large all day on Saturday and even larger on Sunday.   When I arrived on Sunday, this winsome lady had just taken off with her ten crew and a handful of wealthy sightseers.  She would return one hour later, and fly a few times more.  Since it isn't exactly inexpensive to run those engines, she's a lot more expensive in the air, than on the ground.

On the ground, those who would have to content themselves with getting up close and walking through her, began at  paying an entrance fee of a $10 donation to the Commemorative Air Force.

Here I am, complete with big boy pants

 Additional costs were based on where a person would be seated during the actual flight.  Some would sit up front with the flight crew, others would occupy mid-ship positions, and the tail gun position (reached by crawling through a pressurized tunnel) could imagine the view of the guy looking back at the mushroom cloud over two Japanese cities, after being dropped by a similar B-29.

I even got my picture taken by a buddy,  in front of the number 3 & 4 engines on the right wing.  An interesting tidbit - Fifi taxis after landing with only her inboard engines turning props.  Why?  Because she's so big, with a wingspan of 141 ft,  her propeller tips are only 18 inches off the tarmac.  Up north, where runway lights are taller (to not be covered by snow) they can be chewed up badly, which is also not too great to Fifi's propellor tips either.  This month, she will tour another eight or nine Florida towns - like a snowbird, this bird doesn't care for Winter, with her home base just a bit north of Dallas.

She also can carry a lot of bombs (two bomb bays held 20,000 pounds of bongs, so think about how many people if could carry if not hauling ordinance.  Of course, bombs are denser than people.  Well, some people are pretty dense and will pay from $500 to a thousand bucks for a ride of their lifetime.  The best things I observed were the many 80 year old Army Air Corp veterans who came out for their last glimpse of the aircraft type that won the war in the Pacific.  Some were former B-29 aircrew, others were Army and Marine vets who faced a determined enemy committed to defend their island.

Fifi is the only current flying B-29.  The B-29 that dropped the Hiroshima bomb is in Washington, DC at the Smithsonian.  Flown by Paul Tibbits, it was named after his mother, Enola Gay.  The other nuclear B-29, "Bocks Car" now resides at the Dayton, Ohio airbase that houses the U.S. Air Force Museum.  After today, I can say I've seen all three.

The lines were long all daySunday

It flies, just not far

 The young man with his arms folded and a determined look on his face is the Chief Pilot for the 817SP LLC organization.  He is also my son, John Benjamin, 36,  and had every hope of getting our Cessna 172 off the ground this weekend.

Last weekend, he and a friend had hopes that new solenoids were the solution to an electrical problem that caused an aborted takeoff.  So, a decision was made to replace the alternator.  That was done by the other man in the picture, our friend James, a Coast Guard aircraft mechanic who has become a good friend - to us, and to 817 Sierra Papa.

My son today suggested we change the tail number to Hotel Quebec.  I asked him why, and he suggested it fit our aircraft better this past month.  HQ in his mind stood for Hanger Queen.
I actually had the plane up in the air for one hour after recent replacement of the alternator.  I had our flight school owner, and James the mechanic aboard.  We were good at takeoff, and made it all the way to Venice.......and then, the annunciator light for 'voltage' came on AND stayed on.  A hard turn to port and set the course toward SRQ.

Now, the plane still would fly -  after all we still had a battery that had been recently charged overnight, with an assist from me by stopping at Publix for some distilled water.  At $1.18 per gallon jug, the cost of filling a few 'low' cells in the battery was going to be an extremely easy, low cost fix.

I am here to tell you, there are no low cost fixes, but it goes with owning an aircraft.  Yesterday I added one hour to my logbook, plus one landing.  Today, my son "flew" the aircraft as shown in the middle picture, as the assistant driver on the "tug" and the plane took a place on the apron as a static display (sans battery, being recharged for the next ignition attempt following the installation of a alternator regulator.  That SHOULD fix the issue.  Hope springs eternal.

Postscript - yesterday (3/3/14) we ordered a regulator for the alternator, which ought to fix her.