francoflyers

Getting 'Aloft'—The search for the Holy Grail (3)

A year has come and gone since my Jodel airframe arrived in component form on a large curtain-sided lorry outside chez nous in the dark heart of rural France.

It should have been swooping in the open Vienne sky by now but it rests still in the upper floor of my barn, like the glider in Colditz, no doubt also dreaming of an escape from captivity.

The delays, hold-ups and cock-ups have been many and various, mainly a testament to my inexperience both in aircraft construction, the French language and in negotiating the mysterious labyrinth of French aeronautical bureaucracy.

Some progress has been made transplanting organs from my sadly deceased Robin that had been strangled to death by foul bureaucracy. It gave its life so that the Jodel might take to the sky under the affordable French homebuilders regime, the CNRA (as opposed to the unaffordable EASA CofA under which I had operated the Robin until I was forced to pull the plug on its life support). [All of this and more drivel is to be found in the first two episodes]

In fact the Jodel is now nearly ready to cover and paint if I ever secure the necessary permission from the French authority, GSAC (best not to ask what these acronyms stand for as it passes all understanding).

Pushing the medical metaphor through VNE, the operation has been far from painless and the prognosis is still not entirely clear. The donor Robin and the recipient Jodel had never been a perfect match even though they are closely related. The two types are separated by two intervening generations (the DR200 & 300 series). Even in France some things do change in the course of 50 years.

At the outset I had intended to use only the Lycoming, prop and instruments from the Robin so had concluded that the evolution of the airframe would not be of great significance. This changed as work progressed, as I decided additionally to use the motor cowlings, underside fairings, sliding canopy and various other bits and bobs from the Robin such as the entire electrical system and most of the fuel system.

Without boring you with the details, these changes have just about doubled the project hours compared to the original plan. The changes have also involved untold bureaucratic difficulty with which I am still struggling. I am still convinced they will be worthwhile in the end, just painful in the interim.

Perhaps it would be useful to pass on some hints drawn from my experience so far just in case there are other disturbed people out there who might be sufficiently deranged to want to take on a similar project in some other far-flung corner of France.

1. When you first respond to some appealing ad for a wonder project make sure it comes with the bundle of plans specifically related to that type and variant. If, say, the type normally has a tail wheel then there should be supplementary plans relating to the change to a nose wheel layout if that is what it has. There should be a cover sheet with a unique number incorporating the authority to build a single aircraft. If the plans have already been used to build then you will certainly have to purchase another set to get it registered with GSAC.
2. There is an obligation to register a new project as soon as possible with GSAC. That will require the unused unique plans number mentioned above. Any delay in registration must be capable of reasonably explanation.
3. The seller must be able to provide sufficient receipts for materials and major components used in construction. You will be expected to establish the provenance of these at the time of the first inspection by GSAC. They are not at all keen on the use of whole assemblies such as a wing or fuselage from a production aircraft even though it is permissible to use smaller salvaged components like wing ribs. The line does become blurred but if you or your seller were deemed by the individual inspector in his individual region to have transgressed then that may be that. I recommend you obtain a statement from the seller that the construction is all his own work and entirely in correspondence to the plans.
4. Enquire specifically whether there have been any changes from the plans made by the constructor. If so these must have the formal approval of the designer. If changes have been made but not duly authorised you will have to seek and obtain the dispensation yourself before GSAC will give authority to proceed with construction.
5. If possible purchase a project where GSAC have concluded a preliminary inspection and granted an authority to proceed with construction. They will only do so after any snagging list work has been completed and dispensations granted, so that is the safest bet. (Unlike the LAA whose inspectors carry out various stage inspections, GSAC, for non-aerobatic aircraft, generally do only two. The first is at airframe completed but uncovered stage and the second prior to first test flight. Aerobatic types have an additional inspection prior to spar closure.)

Needless to say in my case I had taken very few of the steps I have suggested here. Had it not been for my genuinely very honest and helpful seller, I think I would have probably fallen at the first hurdle. Given the inevitable language and cultural differences, that determination of honesty and future helpfulness is possibly the hardest judgement of all. As helpfulness may be inspired by the prospect of cash, it might be best to agree a signed statement before payment.

As it is, my Jodel has just had its first inspection. (considerably delayed by my failure to appreciate a two-month waiting time is normal). Yes, a snagging list was drawn up but nothing too drastic. Also I need to get a couple of changes authorised: namely a change in position of the battery for C of G purposes and the use of a fibre glass material as a fairing over the original front fuselage to connect the Robin motor cowlings smoothly to the Robin sliding canopy. This means I will have to wait longer for my authority to proceed as the lengthy summer hols are with us when virtually nothing gets done here.

On the other hand the Inspector was more helpful and friendly than anyone familiar with French ‘fonctionnaires’ might expect. He turned a blind eye to various omissions obviously necessitated through the need to take the aircraft apart for covering once his authority was granted.

The vetting of the documents took at least as long as the physical inspection and I was glad that Barbara, the English Secretary of the Chauvigny flying club, had agreed to act as translator: ‘la plume de ma tante’ just does not cut the mustard with this technical stuff. I was relieved when formal proceedings were brought to a close by the appearance of the mandatory lunch.

Of course most of these complications would be avoided by just buying an existing aircraft with a valid CNRA. The down side is cost. No self respecting Frenchman would want to go through all this torture then give it all away especially to an Englishman so such aircraft carry a premium! Bear in mind that even if the CNRA has, on the face of it, some considerable time to run, a change of ownership will trigger the need to renew. As a mere purchaser you will be on the annual inspection regime that applies to all except the original constructor who is, by concession, entitled to the three year cycle.

So, as matters stand, I am at the ‘90% done, 90% to go’ stage. The next task is to track down another illusive acronym (this time the DGAC) to reserve my registration. I anticipate this will be as much fun as a hornet’s nest down one’s ‘Y’ fronts but what the hell!

All homebuilts in France are registered Foxtrot Papa Something Something and I am hoping for Victor Echo as my Something Something in memory of my dear departed Robin and, for that matter, my Super Emeraude that was also a Victor Echo.

When I concocted the previous episode, I was snuggled up to the life-saving wood burning stove in order to survive the ridiculously cold central France winters. Now I am panting in the summer heat wave. If the Aviation Gods are kind to me I might just get the green light in time for covering and painting in the pleasant weather we often get here in the autumn.

In the meantime I’m going to play with the pretty little Pioneer 200 ULM the club has just bought. On brief acquaintance this seems a well-mannered uncomplicated aircraft that is a pleasure to fly. No trace of the unwelcome high drag/low inertia characteristics with this one.

Maybe I will catch a glimpse of that elusive Grail caught momentarily in a shaft of sunlight illuminating its hiding place in the dark recesses of the black river Vienne just beyond the threshold of runway 05 (the only place Dan Brown didn’t look).

Getting 'Aloft'—The search for the Holy Grail (2)

The first part of this account tried to make some sense of my decision to break my perfectly good little Robin DR400-120 for parts. The objective was to reuse as much as possible and permissible in a project intended to take advantage of the cost savings which should be available by operating under the CNRA (French homebuilders) rules.

‘Les Voisins’ must have thought ‘Les Anglais’ were plotting the next revolution. Why else would they erect a giant guillotine in the back garden? In fact the 5-meter tall lifting frame was intended to deliver up the airframe components of the Jodel into the upper floor of our conveniently large but draughty barn rather than beheading Sarco, tempting as that prospect might be.

 

The trip to Nantes had been a success. The Jodel airframe I had found advertised on the RSA site turned out to be very close to what I needed: a bare airframe without an engine or instruments but otherwise nearly complete.

As always, a few things were not as I would have preferred. The fuselage was set up for the French Potez motor rather than the 0235 Lycoming from my Robin and the airframe was configured as a tricycle whereas I would have liked to stick to the original tailwheel design. The empennage had the all-moving rudder/fin but elevators rather than the all-moving horizontal surface. This is the converse of the more widely favoured set-up found in later models. Even so, I decided this was as near as I was likely to find.

The vendor, Joel, seemed like a genuine guy. An engineer through and through, he had spent the best part of a lifetime servicing the RR gas turbines fitted to some French warships. He had been working on the Jodel project for years, on and off, collecting bits here and there while constructing the basic airframe in his workshop on the far side of Nantes airfield.

Eventually the powers that be decreed that a new security fence was necessary for his side of the airfield in this terrorism-dominated climate. The route chosen would cut off his little workshop from the runway. The historic aircraft group who tend an eclectic collection of mainly static exhibits clustered around the crumbling Art Deco ‘English side’ tower were also affected although they may well have other facilities.

The historic groups collection on this remote part of the airfield included an ex-Air France Constellation, her stately elegance still intact, various Migs and Mirages whose days of thunder were now just a muted memory, and the remains of the ‘Utterly Butterly’ AN2, no longer in a condition to play host to the aerobatic teams’ corporate sponsors and their cosseted guests. In truth only the spirits of this incongruous little group now had aneed to access the runway. Any barrier would not trouble them.

In the end Joel had to give up the unequal struggle and in consequence he put his long-standing project up for sale.

I gave him a small deposit then and there. Transport is always a tricky proposition mainly because of the 8.72 metre one-piece Jodel wing. This may be good from the strength and lightness points of view but a real pain when it comes to moving it around. A glider trailer can sometimes be used but the French have driving restrictions once trailers are over a certain length so Joel kindly made arrangements with a local haulier and agreed to do the transit packing himself plus supervise the loading.

The lorry arrived over an hour early on the due day, something of a rarity in France. The few Brits who live in this neck of the woods had all promised to help, but were naturally still in bed. Several local worthies pitched in to help along with Joel who had made the trip in his little camper just to see his baby safely to its adopted home.

The transit packing had been predictably well done with the long wing sitting chord-vertical on its custom-made trellis in the approved fashion. Very quickly, all the various components were safely manhandled from the lorry to the ground floor of the barn so we did the French thing and adjourned for a long lunch leaving the ascent to the upper floor for another day.

As if by magic, the missing Brits turned up just in time for lunch. Needless to say a good time was had by all. I was pleased to be able to offer Joel a little hospitality in what must have been a day of mixed emotions for him.

Although I was itching to start work on the assembly I knew it was essential to make an early start on the formalities just to get going on the long paper trail that would hopefully lead, in the fullness of time, to the grant of the CNRA. Joel had given me a detailed briefing.

The first thing required is the letter of ‘demande’ to GSAC in Paris. This is just a request for the necessary forms. To my surprise these arrived very promptly even though it was August and I had fully expected a material delay. It just goes to show that any assumption you make about how things work in France will probably turn out to be wrong!

The most serious part of the forms to be completed in triplicate was the technical dossier. I turned to the plans I had purchased from Avions Jodel for the answers. Some hope! You might naively expect fundamental parameters like the angle of incidence to be expressly addressed, but no. The faded photocopy plans were far from clear and might just as well have been the lost portion of the Dead Sea scrolls.

Fortunately I was not faced with the daunting prospect of decoding the hieroglyphics sufficiently to build the thing from scratch, just enough to fill in the dossier. The angle was determined by measurement at 4 degrees and Joel confirmed this was correct. In fact I sent all my draft answers off to Joel to check before I plucked up courage to send off the completed forms to Paris.

Now I might have some time to get on with the assembly while the technocrats in Paris pored over my pathetic attempt. Wrong again. The very next day after sending off the forms I answered my phone to find the head honcho from GSAC well and truly on my case and on the warpath.

At the best of times my understanding of French on the telephone is pathetic and I was certainly not up to answering the third degree. Understanding about one word in ten I had the distinctly uncomfortable impression I was under dire suspicion of fraudulently passing off an aircraft of ‘industrial fabrication’ as a homebuilt in order to obtain a CNRA. I decided the take the Fifth Amendment and quickly passed him over to my long-suffering wife in an attempt to pacify him. He was clearly not going to fall for such an obvious ruse. The best we could do was to offer to get Joel to explain the history and the call ended as frostily as it had started.

Joel duly held a lengthy conversation with the irate fonctionnaire and then submitted a formal statement confirming that he had indeed been the constructor. This did the trick and the dogs were called off.

As a last swipe GSAC decided that I could not be classed as the main constructor as I had not done any of the woodwork even though I would be doing everything else. I would not be entitled to the 3-year inspection period conceded to an owner/constructor but would be in the same position as a purchaser.

Given the ferocity of the spate I decided not to question this decision as I could live with yearly inspections and would actually welcome another set of eyes over the plane on a yearly basis. The letter granting the project number and passing me on to our local GSAC at La Rochelle arrived not long afterwards and came as some relief. I did not feel particularly fairly treated or that the decision was equitable but that’s life. Just get on with it.

In the meantime and more happily ‘Madame Guillotine’ and the press-ganged local Brits had done their stuff and all the bits had been lifted to the upper barn. The only casualty was our lime tree that had to be severely pruned to allow that long wing to be lifted sufficiently before being trundled forward into the loft whilst dangling from the wheeled lifting frame hoist.

It was a nice surprise to find that mating the fuselage to the wing, the first major operation, was not as tricky as I had feared. The bare fuselage is quite light and was lifted into position over the wing with the aid of the multi-purpose wife and a pallet fitted with castors (both are invaluable devices but the pallet is not able to cook).

To counterbalance the success of that first operation some of the ‘little jobs’ proved to be anything but. Altering the seat belt mountings for example proved more difficult. Even now some French pilots seem to regard seatbelts as a bit sissy and are content to bolt the end to any old bit of spruce.

Our club Regent still does not have shoulder straps even in the front. The smaller Robin does but the shoulder strap sweeps down between the unfortunate rear passengers’ legs to be bolted to the front of the rear bench seat support. The angle at which it does so would almost certainly reduce your stature considerably in the event of a sharp stop. CNRA at least gives you the freedom to update the safety of what, after all, is a 1950’s origin design.

For anyone contemplating a project like this that should, in theory, be relatively straightforward (at least compared to a scratch build) it is vital to be prepared for difficulties round every corner. For instance, although the 0235 Lycoming is a recognised option by Avions Jodel they do not offer a suitable motor mount or any suggestions as to how to source this vital component.

After going down a blind alley trying to modify another mount, I decided to use the original DR400 mount as at least the motor end was correct even though the bulkhead spacing is much wider on the DR400, which does not have the tapered fuselage sides of the 1050. In sourcing the Chrome Moly steel for the motor mount mods I found it much easier and cheaper to deal with the USA where the service ethic is alive and well along with its friend, healthy competition. Even with transport costs, the cost saving was dramatic particularly as small personal packages may not attract the attention of Mr 20%, the French taxman. While I love France and most aspects of French life, failings in customer service and lack of competition are noteworthy exceptions.

To date progress has been slower than I had hoped and my February waypoint for first inspection is now impossible. My motor mount, which I took to the TIG welder way before Christmas, has still to materialise. It is not possible to glue anything on the airframe as it is quite impossible to get enough heat into my barn given the current arctic conditions so, for the moment at least, I am literally unstuck.

I have to share some of the blame for the delay myself. I was extremely reluctant to start taking apart my Robin and this undoubtedly slowed down progress. However hard I tried to see things in a positive light it is difficult to lie convincingly to your heart.

The Jodel is still a wooden wonder in my mind but it is also a ragtag collection of bits, pieces and sizes from most of the aviation world with plenty of ancient, unobtainable French car parts in the magic mix. A challenge is all very well but what I need is a flyable aeroplane within a sensible timescale. Quite a few more obstacles need to be cleared before the end is anywhere near in sight so I will just have to be patient.

‘Bon Courage’ as our hosts are inclined to say!

Getting 'Aloft'—The search for the Holy Grail

Although the writing had been on the wall for some time it took me a while to digest its unpalatable message: It has become just too expensive for me as a sole owner of modest means to run a C of A aircraft. My trusty little Robin was stuck in her hangar eager for some new adventure but grounded by irresistible officialdom and my lack of cash.

The truth is I should have known better when I bought the Robin with its Dutch C of A but enthusiasm had triumphed over common sense yet again. I had been looking for a Jodel 1050 to replace my Emeraude that had become one seat too small with the arrival of my daughter. Nothing had turned up and I had grown impatient.

Up to that point the Emeraude had been an excellent fine-handling aircraft operated under the equally excellent PFA scheme, now the LAA. With its dedicated volunteer inspectors, this scheme had made me forget earlier C of A nightmares. I highly recommend it to any pilot who might enjoy looking after their aircraft better and saving dosh at the same time.

At the time, one of the minor drawbacks with the PFA scheme was that it catered mainly for two seaters. In other respects the PFA was very family-oriented but in this regard it was constrained by its parent, the CAA, who took the view that one passenger seat was ok but any more needed their own grown-up protection.

Times have moved on somewhat and there are now a few new homebuilt kit designs with more than 2 seats and some older designs, no longer commercially manufactured, which have been adopted under the LAA scheme.

The difficulty for me was that I had decided to flee the rat race and move my family to France to live so the LAA route was not really an option and, in any event, I had not been able to find a suitable aircraft even after some months searching.

A Dutch-registered Robin DR400-120 2+2 turned up on the market at a good price. It flew well and looked nice so I snapped it up without regard for my previous painful experience of the high cost of running an aircraft with any type of C of A. The spar directive was already on the cards but I had a couple of years to comply at a known cost. Little did I know!

Following the Apex bankruptcy and the consequent unavailability of the spar repair kit, I had plenty of time to reflect on my failure to learn from past experience. The annual trek to Holland had paled from an adventure to a bit of a chore. The flying was fine but two rail trips through three countries each way was less fun and not at all cheap.

Dutch maintenance organisations had proved to be the equal of some of their British counterparts in terms of greed and inefficiency. While visiting Minorca I removed the cowlings to find a plastic tray stuffed with oil-drenched hand wipes still wedged under the mags following a 2000 plus Euro annual. The previous year they had thought it a good idea to replace the pilot seat over, rather than in, its runners and to arrange the throttle linkage to foul the alticoder mount so that minimum revs were now 1500.

The Dutch CAA had also added to my financial woes. They had been keen to adopt an expensive mode S requirement at the first opportunity. Now GA traffic is often asked to turn off mode S as Amsterdam is swamped by returns! Similarly they opted to make the expensive fixed ELT mandatory even though there were much cheaper but viable options available.

I hope this is not just crying over spilt milk. This is what you can expect from any country’s CAA in these ‘precautionary principle’ days. I hope the UK CAA will learn from the Dutch experience when considering the Stansted requests to expand mode S compulsory airspace but I suspect I will not be the only one to fail to learn from experience.

Enough gloom and doom. What was I going to do about future flying now that I was established in France with its marvellous flying environment?  Clearly I had to keep flying, that goes without saying, but how could I salvage the situation? Chatting to my French buddies suggested there are really only two ways to go for the pilot who is not made of money, either ULM (Ultralight/Microlight) or CNRA.

There is no doubt that the advances made in ULM design have been considerable and in the index of performance stakes they have arguably overtaken many traditional aircraft. They also attract a lesser medical requirement which is an important factor for the aging GA pilot in France.

The drawback is mainly capital cost particularly if you want more than two seats. Capital was and remains in short supply so I decided to investigate the possibilities under the ‘certificat de navigabilité restreint d’aéronef’ (CNRA).

CNRA is the French homebuilders charter. There are distinct parallels with the LAA but some differences as well. It seems to have much in common with the U.S. ‘Experimental’ classification with a similarly liberal ethos when it comes to mods. In my case I was pleased to discover that it caters quite well for people who want more than two seats.

The constructor himself enjoys a concession of an airworthiness check on the aircraft only every three years but this is reduced to one year for a subsequent purchaser or if you just finish off an existing project. There is an open market both for finished CNRA aircraft and partially completed projects (see the RSA and Fox Papa homebuilders sites) (all French homebuilts are registered F-P-- ).

Generally, where there is an overlap with an equivalent but factory-built aircraft, the CNRA aircraft will command a premium because of the much lower maintenance costs. In particular, there is no TBO on motors which is the most common cause of demise of French CofA aircraft.

You do not need to join any particular homebuilders organisation but you will of practicality be a member of a French aeroclub and have the FFA cover. You do not need to be French to register a project (but of course it helps!) but you would probably have trouble if you were not resident at least part of the year with a French address.

My first exploratory outing was to investigate the Oceanair, a homebuilt type with an uncanny resemblance to the DR400 except without the characteristic Jodel/Robin ‘bent’ wing. Just the job as a home for many of the parts of my grounded Robin you might think.

By chance my spies had located a freshly constructed ‘straight’ wing, which you might have expected to be more elusive than the Yeti. Too good to be true?  Yes! It turned out the seller had the wing professionally built then hassled officials to have his time-expired Robin re-christened an Oceanair in double quick time. In a trice the mighty official GSAC (Groupement pour la Sécurité de l'Aviation Civile) stamp had crashed down on his paperwork ‘NON’ so that was that.

GSAC will not stand for passing off an entire factory-built aircraft as a homebuilt and who can blame them. On the other hand it is not unknown for quite large and important pieces of a former CofA aircraft to be incorporated into a homebuilt by the canny and frugal French constructor. The official telescope may have turned momentarily in the other direction on occasions it seems. The situation is complicated by the existence of a separate CDN(R) category for factory-built aircraft that have been orphaned.

The next project to catch my eye was a Jodel 103T airframe advertised on the RSA site by a well-established group of homebuilders at Royan. This turned out to be a king-size Jodel some 5cms wider in the beam than the DR400. The woodwork was finished and most of my Robin bits would have fitted although my 0235 Lycoming might have been a bit marginal. There was only one other of this type already flying but this one did not seem to have been registered with GSAC plus there was doubt about the availability of a full set of plans. All I came away with was an autographed photo of Delmontez (the much revered father of the Jodel family) doing the washing up at some aeroclub do which I accepted with due solemnity.

Unless you buy an existing aircraft with a valid CNRA you need to make sure any project has a full set of authorised plans with the leave to construct. Projects should be registered at an early stage with GSAC but this may not have happened when planes are constructed with a borrowed set of plans or whatever. Plans (if available) cost around 400 Euros and the vendor will have to explain to the satisfaction of GSAC the reason for the delay in registration. Unlike the UK there are no early inspections (except in the case of aerobatic aircraft) virtually until ‘airframe completed but uncovered stage’ where you are constructing an accepted design from the plan rather than building a prototype. This is followed usually only by a ‘ready to fly’ inspection.

Another ad in the CNRA section of the RSA site caught my eye. It was for a Jodel 1050 airframe. Once again this had the potential to legitimately use important bits from my Robin so I e-mailed the vendor to try to find out what I could about the project. This proved to be the start of another quest in search of the Holy Grail: the three seat affordable aeroplane.    

To be continued........

More Information

Fox-Papa main site

Fox-Papa Homebuilt Aircraft photos

RSA (Reseau du sport de l'air) Small Ads

FFA (Fédération Française Aéronautique) Small Ads

Getting ‘Aloft’—Syndicate Ownership

What do you do after you have gained your PPL?

In my case, the answer was “not a lot”—flying has always been an expensive business, the aircraft of successful clubs are rarely available at short notice and the club will usually insist that you undertake a ‘check ride’ if you haven’t flown for a while.

The upshot was that I flew sporadically for several years and then allowed my licence to lapse”—to get it back, I effectively completed the PPL course again (in about 18 hours) and was obliged to re-take the ground examinations.

For me, everything changed in 1986 when I was offered a one-sixth share in a Piper Cherokee 160 which had been operated on a ‘syndicate’ basis for many years—I wasn’t previously aware of aircraft syndicates though there are a quite a few operating in the UK.

Suddenly, I was able to fly whenever I wanted as the aircraft was hardly used in the week and any conflicts at the weekend were always resolved amicably—often, by the conflicted members flying together.

Taking the aircraft away for a few days was never an issue, even if I only put a few hours ‘on the clock’.

Being based at Redhill, the aircraft ‘knew it’s own way’ to Le Touquet and Deauville—try taking a busy club aircraft to France for the whole day for less than 2 hours-worth of billing.

And, the flying turned out to be a good deal cheaper.

In essence, I moved from flying little more than the bare minimum to maintain my licence (at the time, 5 hours every 13 months) to flying around 40 hours annually which is quite a lot for a Private Pilot.

I was also able to ‘park’ the aircraft at Southend for a couple of weeks while I completed my ‘IMC Rating’—I also completed the ’Night Rating’ over two evenings.

Of course, this sort of advanced training is a lot more effective in a familiar aircraft.

We had a ‘bit of a setback’ in September 1992 when the aircraft suffered an engine failure on final approach to Redhill at night—probably due to ‘carburettor icing’ which was a common problem with Lycoming engines.

With traditional courage and 'true grit', the pilot wrestled with the controls to steer the aircraft away from the M23 which was only half-a-mile away.

Fortunately, nobody was hurt and the insurance paid-out quickly so the group purchased a rare Fuji FA200-160—there were just 14 Fuji aircraft on the UK register at the time.

Although similar in performance to the Cherokee, the Fuji was stressed for basic aerobatics—with front-seat occupants only and within certain weight limits.

Additionally, you could batten-down all of your papers and fly with the canopy open—which never seemed terribly popular among non-pilots.

The Fuji gave us 11 years of good service though maintenance costs were mounting towards the end so we decided to disband the group and sold the aircraft to one of our engineering contacts who completely refurbished it.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time with the syndicate though there were some stressful periods, particularly when dealing with engineers—a definite case of, “you can’t live with them and you can’t live without them”.

Inevitably, members came and went with some ‘fitting-in’ better than others—after the Cherokee crash, the group seemed to become closer and members flew together more often.

It’s always good to fly with another pilot and share the duties—there was always some friendly banter over who flew the outward leg and got to drink wine with their lunch at Le Touquet.

Towards the end, I began to feel that I would like to fly something a bit more modern and ‘pokey’ so I was looking to move-on even before we decided to sell the aircraft.

Also, having run the administration (booking, accounts, log books, etc) for about 10 years, I was quite keen to fly an aircraft, pay the money and just walk away.

To some extent, I have achieved both objectives by flying with a club in France but I do miss the ability to drag the aircraft out and fly ‘on the spur of the moment’ when the weather looks nice.

I also miss my full involvement in the management of the group together with the fast, effective, considerate and democratic decision-making.

As far as I can see, flying syndicates are not so common in France but it would be good to hear from any who would like to make their presence felt.

Points to ponder

Is it cheaper to fly with a Syndicate?

Whatever the charging structure, the economics of a syndicate tend to depend on how much the aircraft is used.

Even if the aircraft never leaves the ground, costs such as hangarage, insurance and annual maintenance are incurred—you could postpone the annual maintenance or the Certificate of Airworthiness inspection (when due*) but you can’t fly without them.

* Maintenance requirements vary depending on the type of aircraft registration,

The principal advantage of group ownership is 'availability' rather than cost although significant savings can be made if the aircraft is flown frequently.

In our 7-strong syndicate (increased from 6), the economics worked well if the members flew at least 15-20 hours per year.

With those sort of numbers, there were few conflicts over availability.

Does a group share hold it’s value?

On our Fuji Group Website, we addressed this issue as follows:

The Group have no direct interest in the value of Group shares which may be sold for whatever the buyer can get.

Although well-maintained aircraft do tend to hold their value, new members are essentially buying the right to fly this aircraft on the stated terms.

The Group is run for the benefit of active members and should not be regarded as a form of investment.

I would mention here that it is essential to have a good 'group agreement' so that every member is aware of their rights and obligations while also having clear title to their share in the aircraft and group assets.

I notice that an increasing number of UK syndicates do admit members without any capital outlay—presumably, the capital cost of the aircraft is recovered in the other charges or perhaps there is a ‘majority’ owner simply recouping some of the running costs.

As UK-registered aircraft in the ‘Private’ category cannot be operated on a ‘hire and reward’ basis, anybody paying to fly them must be a part-owner.

Nothing to stop syndicates registering their aircraft in the ‘Public Transport’ category but insurance costs are higher and maintenance requirements more stringent.

What is the best charging structure?

This was a discussion which dominated most of our semi-annual group meetings where these sort of decisions were made on a democratic basis.

In common with many syndicates, we charged a fixed ‘monthly fee’ which was kept as low as possible in the hope that we would make a profit on the ‘hourly rate’ to cover some of the larger annual bills such as insurance and maintenance.

The trouble was that some members flew less than a dozen hours a year which inevitably led to regular ‘whip-rounds’ to make-up the shortfall.

From speaking to other syndicate members, I found that most group aircraft were underused and experienced similar problems.

After a few years of operating the Fuji, we had a clear idea of the normal running costs and agreed to fix the monthly standing charge at a level which would cover all predictable costs.

We then charged for flying hours at the cost of fuel/oil which, at 2009 prices, would be about £50 per hour in the UK (it was only £30 in 2002)—I had previously measured fuel consumption accurately, over the first year of operation.

We had an account with Redhill Aerodrome but the cost of any fuel uploaded elsewhere by individual members would simply be deducted from their flying charges—an arrangement which my present French flying club would do well to adopt.  

If travelling abroad, you can, of course, claim a fuel duty rebate which would significantly contribute towards the cost of a trip to Le Touquet—even better was a trip to the Channel Islands where you could claim the fuel duty rebate at the UK end and then fill-up with duty-free fuel when you got there.

The result of this change was that the ‘flyers’ were encouraged to do many more hours and the others sold their shares, without any great difficulty, to people attracted by the low flying rates.

The higher monthly charge worked better from the administrative point of view as the money was always there when the big bills came in.

It was also fairer for members joining or leaving the group—for example, you wouldn’t join to suddenly face a large maintenance bill or leave shortly after you had paid your share towards the annual insurance.

It would be interesting to learn how other groups structure their charges.