President’s Perspective
Dave Brown, AMA president
Maynard Hill and the TAM team conquer the Atlantic!
On August 11 at 2:08 p.m. Irish Daylight Time (IDT), 9:08 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time, history was made when Maynard Hill’s TAM 5 (Trans Atlantic Model) touched down in the area near where Alcock and Brown landed in Clifden, County Galway, Ireland, completing a 1,912-mile, 38½-hour flight from St. Johns, Newfoundland.
I was honored to be the pilot who took over control from the autopilot and landed the model. To say the emotions were high would be an understatement. While the entire story will be told in a future article, I’ll outline the highlights so you will get an idea of the magnitude of this accomplishment.
The total weight of the model could not exceed 5 kg (just a little more than 11 pounds) in order to satisfy the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale (FAI) rules for setting records. This meant the model had less than a gallon of fuel. I figured it had approximately 100 ounces based on its weight.
The 10cc engine, the maximum size allowed by the rules, appears to have consumed 98 ounces of that fuel, leaving roughly 2 ounces at landing. Talk about cutting it close! That works out to a little less than 2.5 ounces per hour.
In order to complete the flight in the estimated 32 hours, the aircraft needed a tailwind. Flying at roughly 43 mph in still air, it would need to average nearly 60 mph.
Launched at approximately 8 p.m. Newfoundland time (11:30 p.m. IDT) on Saturday, August 9, the model headed east but encountered crosswinds rather than the needed tailwinds. The model was “porpoising” slightly in altitude and the rpm was varying, so there was a lot of early concern. Previous models had been steady in altitude and rpm and the fact that this one wasn’t was disconcerting.
A few hours into the flight, the model increased in groundspeed as the tailwinds materialized, and it was off to Ireland. It was still porpoising and the rpm was still varying from the desired 3,800 rpm, sometimes going as high as 4,200 and down to 3,600. Concern was expressed about the needle valve setting, but there was nothing that could be done.
The flight would now take roughly 34 hours—assuming it continued—and with an estimated 36–37 hours of fuel on board, it was expected to arrive at approximately 9 to 10 a.m. IDT in Clifden.
On the Irish end of the effort, we went to bed Sunday night with a plan to assemble the crew at the landing site at 7:30 a.m. in order to prepare for the arrival. The satellite tracking of the model was giving the crew in St. Johns an update on the position and performance of the aircraft at approximately one-hour intervals. We in Ireland were to be informed by cell phone if there was any problem.
The Irish Aeroclub observers—the officials who were to oversee the landing to verify its accuracy—came from Dublin, so they had to depart for the site at 3 a.m. The people from Cork left at 3:30 a.m.
Sally and I, who stayed in Clifden, and those from Galway got to the site about an hour before the others and tried the Society for Technical Aeromodel Research (STAR) website to get an update on the model. We found only old data—from 3 a.m., as I remember—so I called the St. Johns base to get a verbal update. I got a surprise when the first words I heard were, “The model has apparently not gone down!” They had not received a satellite update for three hours and had started calling people with the bad news when the model “reported in.” They just hadn’t gotten down the calling list to me. They called the others to reverse their earlier notification—TAM 5 was alive!
The cheers turned to concern when it became known that we had lost the tailwinds and were back to ground speeds of approximately 42 mph with a long way to go. It probably would not make Ireland given the speed and fuel remaining. The aircraft needed that tailwind.
I didn’t keep a log of the times, speeds, and distances, but at 10 a.m. we tried to acquire it with the telemetry equipment operated by the amateur radio people from Galway. They should have been able to pick it up nearly 200 miles out but it was silent. We waited and we waited. Finally we began to hear faint signals from TAM 5. It was alive, but would it make it?
Assuming it was 200 miles out, some quick figuring indicated it probably wouldn’t make it. We didn’t get anything but the noise of the telemetry which was getting louder. The tension was so high you could have cut the air with a knife.
We found out that the model was closer than we thought and moving a little faster. It had “reported in” to St. Johns, but the estimated time of arrival was after 2 p.m.—an hour past the projected fuel remaining. Yet, it was still flying.
We learned that we shouldn’t expect direct telemetry data until the model was inside 15 miles. The telemetry noise was still getting louder, so we knew it was still flying, but how much fuel remained? I had visions of TAM 5 getting within sight, yet falling short. It was agonizing!
Making matters worse, the radio operators had to disconnect the speaker to connect the computer to see if we had telemetry, so the “noise” would shut off and give us a start. They finally figured out how to have both units hooked up or I think we would have needed a cardiologist!
At ten minutes before 2, a shriek went out, “We have data! It’s 13 miles out, making 94 kilometers per hour.” A quick calculation and we realized we needed 13 minutes! I remember the six-minute point, but the rest is a blur.
All eyes were on the horizon. The distance kept descending, yet we couldn’t spot the model. It got to 1.5 kilometers but we still couldn’t see it. I had time to ask if they had the right arrival point in the computer when a cry went out, “There it is!” It had snuck up on us and was almost over us. Boy, was it a beautiful sight!
Sally immediately called Maynard, who claimed to be turning blue, having not breathed for a while. They just knew it should be there. I flipped the proper switches, took control of the model, and landed it. History was made at 2:08 p.m. IDT. Maynard Hill and the TAM team had conquered the Atlantic.
When I signed the official forms, I remember shaking and I just looked at my signature. I hope they can make it out!
The model had flown a little more than 38½ hours—on what should have been 36 or perhaps 37 hours of fuel! Talking with Maynard on the telephone after the flight, he concluded that the reason for the erratic engine performance was that he had mistakenly set the needle valve a little too lean—just lean enough to give us the extra fuel necessary.
The Spirit of Butts Farm—also known as TAM 5—was truly a spirited bird.
Dave Brown AMA president [email protected]
This column is dedicated to the TAM team, comprising volunteers from the United States, Canada, and Ireland, without whose efforts, along with the vision of former AMA president Maynard Hill, this would never have been successful—as well as those proud models, TAM 1, TAM 2, TAM 3, and TAM 4, which were lost to the sea, paving the way for TAM 5 to succeed. The Spirit of Butts Farm glows bright indeed.
Transcribed from original scans by AI. Minor OCR errors may remain.
