Ask a Grumman Tiger owner what they like about the airplane and you’ll likely get an earful of energetic praise. Most owners gush over the Tiger’s snappy handling, healthy climb performance and slide-back canopy that allows for open-air flight. There’s arguably lots of appeal to these little cruisers. Non-Grumman enthusiasts (and even some mechanics) just won’t understand. Some call them silly little airplanes.
The bad news is that, no matter how cleverly you design it, putting a boat hull on an airplane does not make for efficient aerodynamics. You also wind up with a complex airplane that has all the costs of maintaining a retractable landing gear and constant speed prop, plus the expenses of keeping a boat alive and well. There are those who assert that you should combine those costs and then square the sum to get an accurate number for owning an amphibian. Oh yes, and you get to own an airplane that can sink.
Everyone knows the Ercoupe was designed to be super safe by making it stall and spin-proof, yet few know it racked up a number of firsts including first successful production GA airplane that had a nosewheel or that had a fully cowled engine—making it faster than most of its contemporaries. Even fewer are aware that its design means it can handle a crosswind of double the velocity that can be dealt with by almost any other airplane.
When it first appeared in the mid-1980s, the Malibu rocked the GA world. Here was a pressurized, high-flying luxury ride capable of 200 knots and with impressive range to boot.
The quest to come up with the perfect personal airplane, which would sell in droves, was probably the dominant force in the evolution of general aviation ever since the post-World War II boom and bust. It looked easy: it only needed to perfectly combine ease and cost of operation, ability to carry the right number of passengers and operate from most all airports in the country. Piece of cake. Aeronca, Luscombe, ERCO, Piper and Cessna, among others, all eventually came to the conclusion that the future for mass-marketing airplanes was wrapped up in something that had four seats and on the order of 150 HP. ERCO (the Ercoupe folks) never went past a prototype.
Mooney aficionados tend to be clustered in the end of the gene pool that has “I want a fast airplane” in the DNA. For years, they flocked to the marque that promised and delivered speed while sipping fuel. Starting with the single-seat Mite, they were willing to shoehorn themselves into tiny cabins in return for not having to stay in them long when going someplace, while assuming a certain look of superiority over others due to miserly demands at the gas pump. Over the years, Mooney obliged its faithful with progressive aerodynamic clean ups, making quick airplanes steadily faster. However, Mooney eventually shocked the aviation world by tacitly admitting that they’d gone as far as was economically viable with aerodynamics, and it was time to accept that there’s no replacement for displacement when it comes to sheer speed.
Still the only production four-seat or side-by-side, conventional gear airplanes being built in the U.S., Maules have been attracting owners who march to a slightly different beat for over 50 years. In general, the airplanes are easy and forgiving to fly when in the air, yet not so much on the ground—the runway loss of control accident rate is distressingly high. They’re simple to fix, good at going slow but capable of decent cruise speeds, although the published speeds for many in the line are considered humorously optimistic.
The original Swift wasn’t. With but 85 HP, the post-war, two-seat, tailwheel retract would barely climb out of its own way. However, its fighter-like handling, good looks and aerobatic ability, plus a management decision to almost immediately certify a model with 40 more HP, generated an enduring core of aficionados. Globe and its follow-on manufacturer, Temco, created a true sport airplane that is demanding of its pilots, rewarding to those who can fly rather than drive, and proved to be amazingly amenable to being extensively modified.
Some insist it began production as the world’s largest flying sweet potato and evolved into Snoopy crouching as he waited for his supper. The original PA-23, the Apache, seemed almost round and had such modest powerplants that single-engine operation could be hazardous—just as with other twins with small engines. The last versions, the Aztec series, by contrast, are capable load-haulers with very good short-field performance.
There was a time when almost all light airplanes had tailwheels. They were cheaper and lighter to build than nosewheel airplanes and, besides, “we’ve always done it this way,” has always been very powerful in guiding design decisions. In the little airplane world, save for a few non-conformists such as the Ercoupe, Navion and Bonanza, tailwheels ruled. By the late 1940s, the all-metal Luscombe had been around for 10 years, Beech and Cessna were going all-metal and the Piper Aircraft Corporation was seen to be lagging the field because it was still making its wide range of airplanes of mostly fabric stretched over a wood or metal frame. Piper had seen the popularity and safety of the few nosewheel airplanes that had been introduced and, needing to find a way to stay in the swim after the great post-war boom went bust, looked at what it could do with what it had. While the company apparently didn’t have the financial horsepower to develop an all-metal airplane quickly, it could convert its four-seat, conventional-gear Pacer to the tricycle-gear configuration, beating out the competing four-place designs from Cessna and Aeronca.
It’s not fast, nor is it that slow, but it is stable, rugged, reliable, has six real seats and is remarkable for being able to carry a half-ton or so after the tanks are filled. You can put it on floats, turbocharge it, dump skydivers from it, and carry small packages or just your family. It has proven tough and reliable enough to be a fixture in the bush throughout the world, holding on even as turbines shoulder out piston-power.
Owners who have the eventual need for more speed might eyeball the used Mooney market. The search might logically start with the M20J or 201, which first appeared in 1978. While lacking some creature comforts and panel space, these machines are known for having respectable cruise speed, fuel efficiency and simple systems, while delivering the flying sports-car appeal that pilots love about flying Mooneys. If you find an older pre-201 Mooney that’s been we’ll maintained, has a low-time engine and the most popular mods, there’s a lot to love. But it’s not all roses. Since the biggest numbers of pre-J models were produced in the 1960s, age is a concern, as is Mooney’s serial bankruptcy and perceived economic instability, although most shops we spoke with have little trouble getting parts and support. The earliest models had wooden wings. Some of the rest had corrosion problems, fuel tanks with sealant trouble and an aftermarket bladder mod from O & M Aircraft that has an AD. Resale value is another issue.
