Concorde is flying into the black

Press, 12 June 1984, Page 13

Concorde is flying into the black

Just two years ago, the French were threatening to pull out of the Concorde partnership. Now, the supersonic airliner is flying out of the red into the black, to amaze the pundits who claimed Concorde would never pay its way.

By

FRANCIS COOPER

Features

International

To the amazement of the aviation industry, the lame duck of the airways has suddenly become a graceful swan. All at once, everyone wants to fly Concorde. Two years ago next month, the French "government was pressing for the supersonic airliner to be scrapped after massive losses. Now, the British Airways Concorde fleet is expected to make a handsome $25 million profit this year, to the consternation of aviation pundits who claimed that the plane would never pay its way. Indeed, demand is now growing to such an extent that British Airways has been able to take another Concorde out of mothballs and add it to the existing fleet of six planes. This is just another indication of how Concorde, after years in the doldrums, is at last flying high. It is a dramatic change from just two years ago, when Concorde was costing the taxpayer $36 million in spares and maintenance. The summer of 1982 was particularly grim for the French government; whose Concorde (iterations

that year notched up losses of $3O million, leading to a slash in services to Mexico and Washington, and only one flight a day between Paris and New York. France was driven to warn that she wanted to pull out of Concorde participation completely. Britain, on the other hand, was building up a surplus on its Concorde New York and Washington operations — but only after nearly 20 years of nail-biting anxiety and disappointments. It was on December 11. 1967 — six years after the original signing by the British and French governments of the document committing them to the joint venture — that Concorde was first unveiled. The day in Toulouse was bitterly cold, temeratures plunging to eight degrees below freezing. Reinforced with free issues of whisky, politicians, civil airline execu-

tives, and journalists saw enormous hangar doors slide open. A big yellow tractor then hauled out on to the apron what looked like a giant seagull. One British observer commented sardonically: "It looked marvellous. It did everything but fly.” Concorde was supposed to do that just three months after the unveiling, but, a full two years later, she remained obstinately grounded. The truth was that, at the very time of the unveiling, the British M.P.. John Stonehouse, whose boss was the Energy Minister, Tony W’edgwood Benn, had nervouslyfaced Jean Chamant, France’s Transport Minister, in a hastilycommandeered office at Toulouse. Both men were keen that nothing of their meeting should leak out, guards were placed on the doors. Mr Stonehouse was in possession of I

two disturbing facts. A recent devaluation of the pound had led to Britain having to pay an extra $55 million towards its share of Concorde costs. But, far worse, was the evidence that Concorde had serious technical faults. A report by the Concorde Directing Committee stated bluntly: “On a hot day, the aircraft will not be able even to take off with a full load of passengers, let alone fly from Paris to New York with safe reserves of fuel.” It was not until March 2, 1969, that Concorde, carrying 100 tonnes of fuel, was able to make her 27minute maiden flight over the south of France — one year and two days behind schedule. In the time leading up to the flight, there had been mounting pressure for more information on why the first flight had been delayed for so long. In the House of Commons, Mr Wedgwood Benn listed ten items of equipment which had presented particular difficulties. Major faults had been found in the air conditioning, aircrew equip-

ment, drooping-nose mechanism, electrical generating, flight-test instrumentation, gas turbine starter, inertial navigation system, landing gear, braking system and powered flying controls. More was to follow. Concorde 002, assembled in Britain at Filton, near Bristol, was undergoing tests a month after the maiden flight at Toulouse, when a tyre burst amid clouds of burning rubber. Anxious technicians diagnosed a fundamental braking fault. In normal circumstances, a succession of blow-outs was regarded as routine during aircraft trials, but they were known to be dangerous for Concorde which needed unique handling. This was particularly true at lift-off, which was at a higher speed than other aircraft. Concorde was still suffering from blow-outs during the closing weeks of 1981, when there were two multiple bursts on the main undercarriage wheels as a BA London-New York Concorde climbed from Heathrow’s runway at 340 kilometres an hour with 99 passengers on board. Captain Brian Walpole, the air-

line’s leading Concorde pilot, kept the plane’s undercarriage down, flew over the Channel to jettison fuel, then returned to make a safe emergency landing. The previous August, another BA Concorde came to a screeching halt on the runway at New York. Seven of its eight wheels had deflated, and flying debris had holed the fuel tanks and damaged three of its engines. In addition, tyre bursts on Air France Concordes at American airports during the previous two years had led to a violent clash between the United States National Transportation Safety Board and the French government. The board urged the airline to adopt specific safety procedures after four “potentially catastrophic incidents.” Over the last three years, radical changes have meant that stronger wheels and tyres have been fitted, and there have been no more significant cases of blow-outs. Now, it appears, Concorde no longer needs the propping arm of the taxpayer. It has, it seems, clear . skies ahead of it at last. v