Wine and balance

For you non-pilot readers (I love you!) there’s a thing called weight and balance we pilots are supposed to do before every flight. It’s a series of mathematical machinations that are used to make sure the plane is not too heavily loaded and that whatever load it’s carrying is positioned so that the aircraft won’t be too nose nor too tail heavy to fly safely.

In the old days we used complex charts, slide rules, and pencil and paper to confirm that we were safe to fly. Now there are a slew of modern electronic options and apps for the purpose.

Is this really necessary for the small, car-like planes most of us fly? Damn straight! Most four-seat airplanes can’t actually fly with four people, some baggage, and full fuel—so this becomes important. Even the Plane Tales Plane is incapable of flight with two of us onboard and all three of her fuel tanks full to the brim.

For us at Plane Tales, it’s really all about the weight. As a two-seat, side-by-side airplane, the balance side of the equation for Tessie really doesn’t come into play as she has no backseat. I just need to make sure that no more than 75 pounds of baggage goes into the luggage compartment and I’m good to go on balance. Weight, on the other hand, has a huge impact on us, but perhaps not the impact you’d expect. We can actually pack the plane to her gills if we want to, but if we do, we won’t be able to go very far.

You see, every pound in the cockpit means a pound less fuel in the tanks. Actually, we pilots don’t think in pounds, we think in six-pound units. That’s because a gallon of aviation gasoline weighs six pounds. [Technically, it weighs 6.01, a difference which would matter in very large planes, but with the typical fuel loads in general aviation airplanes the difference is marginal, so we use the easier-to-manage six pound figure for weight and balance calculations.]

In the Plane Tales Plane, as we burn something in the neighborhood of six gallons per hour, each gallon of fuel gives us 10 minutes of flying time. At our current performance, in no-wind conditions, that gallon of gas will take us 18 miles.

It doesn’t sound like a much. And it isn’t. For six pounds. But consider what a typical travel suitcase weighs. The airlines cap carry-on luggage at 50 pounds per bag. Putting a 50-pound suitcase in Tessie would reduce her range by one hundred and fifty miles!

This is why we are the kings of packing light. Every ounce we save lets us fly farther without refueling. Refueling is kinda fun, because you see all kinds of places you’ve never seen before, but it’s always time consuming with approach, pattern entry, landing, taxiing, talking to the airport bums and answering the obligatory “does your ‘Coupe have rudder peddles” question. (She doesn’t.) Plus, many times there simply isn’t an airport where you really need one, so a cross-country flight can become a serpentine zigzag affair resulting in the elapsed travel time of an oxcart.

So if we really need to get somewhere far, far away, we need as much gas in the tanks as we can safely muster.

Now, I need to divert from our course to talk about my wife. She actually enjoys flying. At least now and then. For short periods of time. When the air is absolutely calm. And when I’m content to limit the bank angle of turns to about five degrees.

The rest of the time, visions of fiery crashes dance in her head, and she pictures Rio an orphan. Accordingly, she’s the least-flying member of the family, and because of that, I’m never 100% sure how much aviation lore and knowledge is actually in her head.

But recently, I learned that, in her quiet way, she has been paying close attention.

Second diversion: There’s nothing that I enjoy more at the end of a long day than a nice glass of red wine. Or two. And sometimes three. This is a mission easily accomplished at home. But during the last race season we had some problems. There are dry counties that aren’t marked on aeronautical charts (they should be). There are strange liquor laws in some states about where wine can be sold. And on what days. And at what time of day. In short, wine shops proved to be in shorter supply than airports on our travels. Plus, there’s the problem of what to do with a partly un-consumed bottle of wine on the road. And sometimes the cost of wine in far-flung locations was more than the cost of the Avgas the plane was drinking.

The obvious solution was to bring our wine with us as part of our luggage.

But wine weighs. In fact, as a pure liquid, it weighs more than aviation gasoline. Wine tips the scales at 10 pounds per gallon. And worse yet, the typical packaging of wine is in glass bottles.

And glass bottles are heavy. More on that in a minute.

Plus there was the problem of multi-day trips. There was no way we could carry enough wine for long journeys, but I could at least protect myself from wine-free zones by carrying enough to cover me for one dry landing, and attempt to resupply “on the road.”

Bottles being out due to the weight and balance, I tried wine “miniatures” first. They come in both plastic and glass. I sent Debs to town with orders to find the plastic bottles. They were light enough but suffered the Goldilocks syndrome, with one bottle being too little, two bottles being not quite enough, but three bottles being too much. And traveling with a wine-drinking copilot the number of miniatures needed ended up requiring math harder than the most complex weight and balance equation.

Next, I considered boxed wine, but the boxes typically hold the equivalent of four bottles of wine and were excessively heavy. I didn’t want to have to choose between wine and clothes. I’ve never flown naked, and I don’t see why one couldn’t (with enough sunscreen) but it would be excessively embarrassing (and probably illegal) at fuel stops.

So the problem was one of those that seemed to be eluding a solution until the day Debbie came home triumphantly with something new. It was called a “brick” of wine, and sure enough, is about the size and shape of a typical construction brick. It held the equivalent of two bottles of wine, enough to fuel the crew for a typical cross-country. “How much weight do you think this will save over a pair of bottles?” she asked me.

“Let’s find out,” I replied, and got out our kitchen scale and two bottles of wine.

IMG_4510

The pair of bottles weighed in at 5.7 pounds. The box at 3.5 pounds. Debs had saved us a full 2.2 pounds and added just a hair over six and a half miles to our range.

My non-pilot wife had worked out the perfect wine and balance.

 

2 thoughts on “Wine and balance

  1. Merry Christmas from N3989H.

    With a little luck. I will finish my Epic Annual this afternoon! Not bad considering I started February 1st 2016!

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