Beverley part2
Thank you Danny, very neatly stated! Here is the second part of some Bev memories:
Sometimes regarded initially with dismay by those assigned to fly it, the Beverley was in general well liked by its crews. One of the first RAF aircraft with powered control systems, and thus easy and docile to fly despite a formidable bulk, it earned respect both for an ability to cope with almost any task thrown at it plus the capacity to absorb endless ill-treatment while so doing. The reverse pitch propellers, in association with powerful anti-skid brakes (the first RAF aircraft to be so fitted), gave great confidence in short field operations while also providing the useful if potentially hazardous ability to taxy backwards. However, being early specimens of their kind these props occasionally provided a few hair-raising moments: such as failing to come out of reverse when maneuvering in confined spaces (a fault later corrected by the introduction of propeller interrupter switches, and no don't ask me to elaborate on this mod – not here, anyway!) or, on one alarming occasion, allegedly going into reverse just before touchdown resulting in one of the shortest Beverley arrivals on record.
As for short field operations, despite being chronically under-powered the Beverley did quite well although takeoff performance never matched its stopping capability. However, a run of up to 600 yards for lighter weights was still quite impressive, with about 400 yds required for a short landing. Early on there had been trials with rocket assistance for take off, but nothing came of them. More seriously, the power shortfall necessitated useage of relatively high rpm in the cruise, with the inevitable result of a high rate of unscheduled engine renewal; and, since much of the fleet's work was performed in hot climates, this problem was of course compounded thereby.
In fact the Beverley was probably a greater challenge to those who had the unenviable job of looking after it, a task necessarily performed in ways that would probably be illegal under present day health & safety laws. With engines so high off the ground that a tall guy could safely walk beneath running engines without risk of decapitation, the chore of working on Bristol's finest could be both hazardous and uncomfortable. Chasing oil leaks, sorting out propeller problems, the inevitable frequent plug changes (36 plugs per engine) were just a few of the many tasks facing engine fitters on their lofty, draughty perches, from which tools were only too easily dropped - a nuisance to retrieve, and also a potential hazard to anyone below.
The airframe mechanics' lot was scarcely more congenial, for much of their work was also accomplished at dizzy heights. The tailplane was the least desirable location, fin & rudder assemblies being almost 40 ft agl; true, safety harnesses were available but then some brave individual had to go up there and fit the anchor straps in the first place. Similar protection was available for those working on the wings, failure to use which could result in a rapid descent onto hard concrete. Carelessly opened boom para hatches were responsible for at least one fatality, for it was only too easy to fall through them when emerging backwards through the rear toilet following completion of work in the tail cone. A further potential hazard was provided by the interior wing crawlways, giving access to sundry engine-driven components behind the firewalls. Always claustrophobic, and in hot climates positively dangerous to those foolish enough to venture unsupervised into their oven-like inner reaches they provided a real hazard; indeed, there were a number of cases of heat exhaustion from this cause, one fatal. But despite all these difficulties, the monster was well served by its ground crew, among whom the spirit of "can do----will do" was universal; just as well, for aside from providing a fairly hostile working environment, frequent role changes were an inevitable consequence of its multi-task capability.
From the passenger point of view sleep is of course the best way of passing time, but even the most noddy-inclined individual has limits in that field - so what other recreation was available to passengers? They were normally carried in the boom compartment, providing some relief from the deafening noise in the hold but offering a very poor view out from the slightly upward-sloping windows; so, to see whatever was on offer, it was first necessary to scramble awkwardly “downstairs”, using the stringers as a step-ladder.
The hold was not soundproofed, but occasional carriage of motor vehicles (especially private cars carried as indulgence freight on homebound flights) offered some escape from the interminable din. Slipping inside one with a good book, one could read for many hours in greater comfort than was possible in most contemporary airliners. Unfortunately however any encounter with turbulence, always likely at the Bev's comparatively low operating altitude, necessitated a rapid evacuation if nausea were to be avoided - vehicle suspensions are designed to deal with surface irregularities, but exaggerate the effects of rough air.
Should the hold be empty, athletically inclined persons could jog to & fro. Noticing a bicycle lashed to the cabin wall on one occasion, I rode it in a figure eight pattern for a few minutes; who else can claim to have cycled over France at 150 mph? (though it was rumoured that someone once actually did the same with a motor bike!). Then there was the supply aimer's position in the nose, giving a superb view of the passing scene through its clear glass panel. I spent some time thus, and during one clear passage over the Massif Central was able to garner much useful data towards the planning of a forthcoming French holiday. Nearer home, when hitching a ride one weekend from Abingdon to Dishforth I was able to take my car with me, thus saving a dreary six hour drive on pre-motorway roads; how many other service aircraft offered such a facility? - free, too!
Rest in peace, AVIS MAXIMUS -
the world will not see your like again