Down at the airport where I first worked as a flight instructor, my friend Maurice kept trying to get me to fly in his Ercoupe. For the pilots unfamiliar with the Ercoupe, it is a lovely little airplane powered by an 85 horsepower Continental. It is of low wing design, with a somewhat bubble canopy and twin tails. The engineers designed the craft without rudder pedals and limited elevator travel. The intent was to design a spin-proof airplane. I have flown one three times: the first time, the last time, and the only time.
Actually, that’s not true. I would fly the airplane again, but only on perfectly calm days.
The Ercoupe Ad from 1946
My friend, Maurice, bought and sold airplanes on occasion. I don’t know what he did fulltime, but he would always have an airplane or two that he had up for sale. One day, he acquired this little Ercoupe and as with all airplanes I had never flown, I wanted to try it out.
Maurice was always a good sport and willing to let me have a go at the Ercoupe, but with good weather, students kept filling my schedule. Finally, one day the students gave me a break and I looked at Maurice and said, “Okay, let’s go take her around the patch a time or two.”
Maurice looked at the windsock and said, “No.”
I was a little befuddled. There was only a slight wind right down the runway. “What’s wrong with today?” I asked.
“Not enough wind,” Maurice said.
“What do you mean, ‘not enough wind,’” I questioned.
“Oh, we have to have wind to fly the airplane,” he said. “Got to have at least 12 knots.” I walked away scratching my head. Maybe Maurice was getting a little daft in his later years. So, while we watched the limp windsock, we talked of airplanes and flying and tailwheels and Cubs. Maurice, like most older pilots, had like me, learned to fly in tailwheel airplanes.
Talking with Maurice was always pleasurable. Maurice was always good for saying something out of the norm. He was very well read on many different topics. One day, he came into the FBO and said, “I finally finished reading it.”
“What?” I asked.
“The Bible. Second time from front to back. Finished it nine months this time.” As I started out the door to fly with my student, I wondered where he found all the time he had to do the things he did.
One day, I had to cancel a student. The student was in the beginning of his flight training and the crosswinds were too much for him at his stage. Suddenly, Maurice burst through the door and said, “Com’n! It’s time!”
“Time for what?” I asked.
“Time to fly the Ercoupe!” Maurice was like a madman. He grabbed a half cup of coffee, slugged it down, and yelled, “Let’s go!”
I must admit, I had never seen Maurice in this condition. It was almost comical. He wanted to get out in the Ercoupe and said we had to hurry before the wind died.
After a quick preflight, we were at the end of the runway. In a short time, we were airborne and turning downwind. Maurice was almost giddy with excitement.
Soon, I turned the little airplane on final.
It was then I learned why Maurice was so excited about letting me fly the Ercoupe. In a crosswind. In a fairly strong crosswind.
I was doing my best at slipping the airplane to align it with the landing area. I was pushing with all my might on the…
Wait! There were no rudder pedals!
I turned the wheel into the wind and pushed on the floorboards where there should have been rudder pedals—but not. The result was my S-turning all along on final. I looked over at Maurice and his silver hair was flying in the relative wind and he was cackling as hard as he could.
He was laughing! At me!
We went around the patch three times and each time, it seemed as hard as the last. And Maurice seemed to laugh harder with each landing.
When we finished, I asked what that was all about.
With a sly grin, he said, “There’s nothing funnier than watching a tailwheel pilot fly an Ercoupe for the first time in a hard crosswind.” Looking back on it from all these years, he was right—it was funny.
Thanks, Maurice, for one of the best flying lessons ever.
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© 2011 J. Clark
