Experimenter is a magazine created by EAA for people who build airplanes. We will report on amateur-built aircraft as well as ultralights and other light aircraft.
Issue link: http://experimenter.epubxp.com/i/178050
At the time, Mark was working as a field technician for the gas company, but the thoughts of working on things that fly wouldn't leave his head. "I ran into a guy who had a Porterfield and was building a Hatz. His name was Mark Story. I knew the Hatz fairly well and liked the way it looked, although I had never even sat in one. And it was rag and tube, so it was well within my comfort zone. Mark had decided he was going to move to Mexico with his Porterfield and wanted to sell his Hatz project, which consisted of wing ribs and most of the center section. So, I bought it." As luck would have it a good friend of Lightsey, Jack Pickering, had just finished an RV-6 and was looking for a follow-on project. "Jack and I were good friends, and we became partners in the Hatz, even though Jack had zero rag-andtube experience," Mark said. "However, like most builders, he was eager to learn something new. And it turned out that I enjoyed teaching new skills to him. "When we started, Jack not only didn't know anything about tube and fabric, but he had no tail wheel time at all. So, when we finished the airplane ten years later, he logged some Cub time and got a no-drama checkout in the Hatz. He flew it really well, but he's a classic serial builder. He'd rather build than fly, so he sold me his interest in the Hatz and started building an RV-12." It took them ten years to build the Hatz, not because it was such a complex, big project but rather because Mark decided to follow his passion. He quit the gas company and started AeroCraftsman, first in Hemet, then moved it to the legendary Flabob Airport in Riverside. There his penchant for old airplanes built of everything except sheet metal led him to a client base that had him restoring all sorts of antiques, including Travel Airs and WACO cabins, and replicating airplanes, the best known of which was a tiny little speedster, the C.460 Caudron racer of 1936. However, when he'd have a free hour or two, he and his partner would be banging on the Hatz. Mark said, "The Hatz is about as simple as an airplane can get. You might even say rudimentary. It wasn't hard for me to envision this as a 1930s factory-built airplane because almost everything in it could have been from around 1933. "The biggest part of the project was building the wings. Even though we had a set of wing ribs, there were still the ten wing and center section spars. And the drag/anti-drag wires. We bought clevis for the wires but fabricated the wires themselves by threading 3/16-inch stainless rod. Gotta save a buck or two when you can. That's one of the nice things about the Hatz: With few exceptions, the metal components can be built with just a grinder and a welding torch." One of the discouraging aspects of building a biplane, besides there being more parts involved than with a monoplane, is that you have four leading edges that have to be kept looking good. Often they are easily dented, but Mark and his partner, Jack, handled that by forming plywood leading edges that resist denting and can be finished as straight as glass. "The fuselage is your typical square box fuselage," Mark said. "You lay out the sides on a jig table, then stand them up and add the crosspieces. This is the way airplanes have been built for nearly 75 years, and the Hatz is faithful to traditional building technique in every way, shape, and form." Mark didn't pay any attention to the various offshoots of the basic design or the faster, sleeker versions many Hatz builders were crafting. He had antiques on the brain, and since his shop was filling up with the bigger versions he was restoring, he was constantly keeping his eyes open for items that would give his airplane that new-in-1933 look. This included just about everything on the instrument panel. When asked where he got a particular thing, such as the globe compass, he always said the same thing: "I don't know. I've been collecting stuff for a long time and it just showed up." The same thing applies to the unusual altimeter, the bigger-than-average mag switch, and the tach that appears only to go up to 2000 rpm but has a second inner scale that supplies the extra 1000 rpm to get him off the ground. Oddly enough, the tiny Microair radio is barely noticeable and doesn't detract from the overall effect. "One of the neatest things I found was some sort of an old, wooden military data case. I didn't sand it or refinish it or anything. I liked the patina it had, so I just fixed some cracks and fastened it to the back of the front seat. It's the perfect place to put an iPad." Wait! Did he just say iPad? Is it an antique iPad from the '30s? Mark just laughed. "I fly this airplane everywhere I'd fly a regular airplane, even though I'm only doing 95 EAA Experimenter 17