Watson's Third Aeroplane
Watson's No.3 in flight at Buc in France during the Concours de La Sécurité en Aéroplanes competition, photographed by German magazine Flugsport's Paris correspondent. Much larger than Watson's previous machines, its overall size is evident in comparison to its pilot. Flugsport via Author.
Buoyed by the success of achieving powered flight in one of his own aeroplanes, Watson built a third machine, his last, in 1913. Completed in either late October or early November that year, the No.3 was deliberately designed to supersede its predecessor in capability, since his theories had been proven in flight. Compared to his previous machines, the No.3 was a different beast, although it still incorporated the same reverse sesquiplane layout and was devoid of a definite fuselage.
It represented a more professional approach to Watson's aeroplane building, being of considerably smarter appearance than his earlier efforts. It was sturdier, the proliferation of bracing wires were testimony to this. Constructed of aluminium alloy tubing, or duralumin, an alloy designed specifically for the aviation industry, as opposed to bamboo in his earlier aeroplanes. Its wings were of conventional design; the bracing struts were fitted with streamlined aerofoil shaped fairings, made from aluminium or possibly wood and covered in fabric. Streamlining extended to the wheels as well, with each hub being fabric covered.
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Structurally, the No.3 was simpler, the multitude of bracing wires taking the strain, rather than the messy arrangement present on the No.2. Its wide-track four-wheel undercarriage chassis comprised a neat and robust vertically mounted strut arrangement, with small skids fitted inboard of the wheels that protruded ahead of them by a small margin only.
The A-frame cabane supports for the rocking wing commenced at the point on the top surface of the main wing where the undercarriage struts met the wing underside and sloped inward toward its apex. As with its predecessors, this was crowned with the parasol rocking wing, controlled by Watson's patented single lever, which was attached to the upper wing's underside. This actuated both the moveable elevator and rocking wing.
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Camber on the wings was gentler on the No.3, in profile its trailing edge sloping away to a point considerably lower than the leading edge. Based on his experiences with a monoplane elevator on the No.2, the No.3 followed suit, although the tailplane was attached to the aircraft centre section by two single horizontal spars, which were heavily wire braced. As with the No.2 in its final form, on completion there was no vertical tail surface except triangular fillets above and below the elevator with their leading edge forming the upright for the tail skid. Skids were also fitted to the main wing tips, two each side.
The No.3's pilot was perched in the usual place in the one-piece main wing centre section, but he was afforded an element of protection from the slipstream with the provision of a wickerwork oval cockpit nacelle that started behind the engine and flared out to its widest point, where the pilot sat, tapering back to a point overhanging the rear of the wing trailing edge.
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Although the pilot's legs dangled below the wing, stirrups were provided for his feet. It is unlikely that movement of these instigated any control input. The six-cylinder Anzani radial engine was mounted between two uprights inboard of the front cabanes that were angled inwards to the centreline of the rocking wing. Placed slightly above the wing leading edge, the engine sat directly in the pilot's line of sight, no doubt showering him with lubricating oil and exhaust fumes, as engines of open-cockpit aeroplanes of the period had a tendency to do. A cylindrical fuel tank mounted transversely behind the engine fed it.
Overall, the No.3 was significantly bigger than its predecessors; the tips of the bracing struts on top of the rocking wing stood at least another six feet above the top of the No.2's. Its wingspan was nearly 30 feet, with an overall length of 20 feet. The wide-track wheels were about eight feet apart. This increase in physical size over Watson's earlier aircraft was probably brought about by the use of metals in its construction; it also shows a greater confidence in his own ideas that was not present until he had achieved a certain competence in handling his designs in flight in the No.2.
A six-cylinder 45 hp Anzani on display at the RAF Museum at Hendon, of the same type as fitted to Watson's third aeroplane. Author.
To power his big No.3, Watson approached another British manufacturer of a French engine, The British Anzani Engine Company of Scrubbs Lane, Willesden, London. By 1913 when the No.3 was completed, British Anzani offered a choice of up to seven different types of engine, all with differing power outputs and cylinder arrangements.
Watson settled on a six-cylinder two-row radial costing ï¿¡300, the first of its kind produced. Comprising two three-cylinder fan engines with their cylinders at 120° apart and rotated 60° to give each cylinder equal cooling, the Anzani radial's cast-iron cylinders were 90 by 120 mm. Weighing 189 lbs, it had an advertised power rating of 45 hp at 1,300 rpm.
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Beginning work on the No.3 sometime in mid 1913, it would be some five to six months before he completed it. This estimation of time comes from a folder of letters kept with the AIR files of the National Archive, in which Watson had written to the War Office in an attempt to interest it in his newest aeroplane. The earliest date recorded in the paperwork is 7 June 1913, followed by a letter by Major William Sefton Brancker, General Staff for the Director of Military Training dated 17 June, to the Officer Commanding of the Royal Flying Corps Military Wing in which Brancker states that he had received an invitation from Watson to inspect his aeroplane;
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"The design of this machine seems sound and I am to request you to arrange for an officer from Montrose [the RFC aerodrome in Angus, some 36 miles from Dundee] to inspect it and furnish a report as early as possible."
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This invitation from Watson included drawings and a description of the machine, which was forwarded to the War Office for its consumption.
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Something of a comic, but sharp as a tack, the monocle wearing William Sefton Brancker was one of the great early characters of British Aviation; allegedly, at social events he used to eat his own monocle, then miraculously present it again, to the bemusement of assembled guests! A leading light in civil aviation post war, tragically, he was one of the 48 who lost their lives during the loss of the airship R.101 on 5 October 1930.
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Following contact being made with Watson in June, he postponed the intended visit by No.2 Squadron, RFC personnel stationed at Montrose on the grounds that he had yet to complete the machine. It wasn't until 10 October that Captain F.St.G Tucker made his way to Watson's workshop to examine the incomplete aeroplane, at which time Watson, having been notified in advance of the visit, called the OC 2 Sqn, Major C.J. Burke on the telephone to advise that the aeroplane wasn't finished and to postpone the visit. Arriving at Watson's place at 370 Perth Road, Dundee, Tucker made his observations, with Watson offering the squadron his disused No.2 for its use, although there's no evidence the offer was taken up.
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Following receipt of Tucker's report by Maj Burke, he penned correspondence to the OC Military Wing, RFC, advising caution about the machine, since it was not finished and had yet to fly. Burke wrote that Watson had previously travelled to Montrose to meet him and to show him drawings of his machine, but frustratingly for Burke, he had postponed the visit again.
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Capt Tucker's report contained the following description of Watson's patented rocking wing means of control, as copied by Maj Burke to the OC Military Wing, RFC on 22 October;
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"The plane corresponding to the top plane in an ordinary biplane instead of being fixed rigidly to the lower plane is carried on a central V-shaped strut, which allows the top plane to be pivoted in the manner of a see-saw in a vertical plane. In its normal position it lies parallel to the bottom plane but can be tilted either to the left or right. This plane is smaller than the lower one."
"The design does away with;
(1). Ordinary [wing] warping or ailerons.
(2). A rudder.
All control is thus placed under one lever, which can be moved (1), from side to side in order to tilt the top plane, and (2), backwards or forwards to move the elevator."
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"The inventor claims on the analogy of bird flight that this design eliminates the ordinary third means of control for turning by the rudder."
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What the military thought of Watson's novel means of control is not recorded, but Burke's frustration with Watson's continual postponement of visits by 2 Sqn personnel is evident in his letter dated 13 October. That War Office personnel actually got to witness the No.3 in flight cannot be confirmed.
A retouched image of the No.3 that appeared in Flight magazine in May 1914, but with the background not blanked in. This is the configuration of the machine on completion. The original image is reported to have been taken at the blacksmith foundry of family friend John Gourlay, who assisted Watson with his earlier aeroplanes. via Author.
Exactly when Watson flew the No.3 for the first time is not known, but with some prescience he enrolled the machine in the first Concours de La Sécurité en Aéroplanes competition. From 1 January to 1 July 1914, L'Union pour la Sécurité en Aéroplane organisation held the Concours, the first of its kind at Buc Aerodrome, near Paris, France, in which some 56 aircraft were entered with the intention of displaying advances in safety devices for aeroplanes from a design standpoint.
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According to an interview with James Manson, son of a cobbler and an employee of Watson's fathers produce firm, Watson was present in France at Buc from March to July 1914, and took Manson with him as a mechanic. Manson also recalled how he was involved in the construction of the No.3, so felt an affinity with it, as he also got to fly it in France. Nicknamed the 'Wiggle Waggle' because of the rocking wing, Manson was present when Watson interviewed potential pilots to fly the machine. Some controversy was caused when a French pilot offered his services, but was officially barred owing to reasons of patriotism.
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Manson stated that the fastest speed the machine could reach was 80 mph, and whilst flying it was unfortunately involved in a crash at Buc, the machine diving into the ground from 300 feet; the cause being that Manson felt he did not have enough experience flying it. Damage to the machine must not have been too severe, as it was repaired in seven days.
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Somewhat incorrectly, Manson stated that the aeroplane received a third placing in the competition for an invention to counteract sideslip, but Watson's name is not mentioned within the listing of prize winners.
Read the abridged interview with James Manson on the Scrap Book page.
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Furthermore, inexplicably for Watson, the No.3 was disqualified from the competition, "...for no apparent reason...", as recorded in the 3 July 1914 issue of Flight. In the book British Aircraft Before the Great War (Schiffer, Atglen, PA, 2001), the authors offer the following reason for the No.3's disqualification; "...the pilot was classified as a novice and excluded."
Why Watson did not fly the aeroplane himself is not known, but presumably during the interviews Manson mentioned, he employed a Mr S. Summerfield of Melton Mowbray. Very little is known about Summerfield, but he must have impressed Watson sufficiently to allow him to pilot the No.3 at the Concours. He did own his own aeroplane, a Blériot XI, in which he gave flying demonstrations in his home town, although during one such flight, the aircraft entered a spiral dive and crashed, with little injury to Summerfield. Apparently, the Blériot's rudder detached in flight.
In the 7 July 1915 issue of The Aeroplane, as an obituary to Watson, the following records another reason why the No.3 might have been ruled out of the competition;
“Last year Mr Watson took the machine to France and entered it into the “Concours de La Sécurité”, or Security Competition. The machine was not a success, partly no doubt, as Mr Watson claimed, because of its being underpowered. Nevertheless, it did at time get off the ground for short distances.”
The No.3 flying at Buc during the 1914 Concours de La Sécurité en Aéroplanes. Somewhat later, this picture was captioned as claiming that the No.3 won a safety prize for side slip in a competition in France in 1913. This is false as the Concours competition was the first of its kind and the No.3 was disqualified at that event. The Trustees of the National Museums of Scotland.
Photographs of the No.3 at Buc show modifications to the tail surfaces after completion. Most noticeable are two prominent ellipsoidal vertical tails fitted to the elevator, which protruded above and below it; these were probably fitted because of the lack of a side surface component at the aircraft's rear. There was little in the way of vertical surface on all Watson's aeroplanes; he probably found that there was a degree of induced roll when the aircraft commenced a turn, something that he was keen to avoid.
At different times, different fabric covers fitted to the wheel hubs are missing, perhaps as a result of inspections of the wheel assemblies, or was it as a result of the crash that Manson mentions?
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Around the time of the outbreak of war, Lituanian born Leo Anatole Jouques enters the story of the No.3, as Watson had shown him photographs and drawings of the aeroplane, owing to his connections within British military society. Commissioned by the Royal Aircraft Factory at Farnborough to manufacture R.A.F. B.E.2 aeroplanes under licence, Jouques had his own aeroplane manufacturing firm, Jouques Aviation Works at Willesden, later at King's Road, St Pancras, which was a member of the Society of British Aircraft Constructors, today the Society of British Aerospace Companies (SBAC). According to letters written by Watson, Jouques was keen to put the No.3 into series production. Little else is known about this transaction, but it coincides with Watson's failed attempts at gaining a commission with the RFC.
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According to a letter from Watson to his wife Beatrice, Jouques had in his employ a Mr Poesner, who was Chief of the Aircraft Inspection Department who viewed the No.3 with favour; the following is directly quoted from the letter:
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"Well, I showed Jouques the description of my machine, [Ashby] Mitchell had mentioned it to him, and immediately Jouques is on it like knife and called in Poesner who went off and spent seven hours over it. He evidently reported something good to Jouques..."
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Jouques then stated he could obtain a commission for Watson in the RFC through contacts of his, notably Secretary of State for War, Field Marshal Lord Kitchener, no less, through his wife, and requested that Watson demonstrate his machine to the War Office, which Watson was reluctant to do. This comes as a surprise since he had been keen to do so a year earlier, but kept postponing visits by RFC personnel, who were sent to examine it for exactly that. Jouques advised that if Watson would pay for a demonstration at Farnborough, he would pay ï¿¡25 royalty for each aeroplane manufactured and ï¿¡40 for each one built elsewhere, to Watson. He politely declined the offer.
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Undeterred, Jouques' second offer was quite generous in what it promised, the RFC commission and position as inspection officer at the Royal Aircraft Factory at Farnborough, his first job being to supervise the demonstration of his own aeroplane. This was to be dismantled at Dundee and delivered to Farnborough for a flying demonstration, then returned to Dundee in original condition, all funded by Jouques, on top of the original payment offered for licence production. Jouques also offered to make modifications to its undercarriage, with the fitting of; "new skids and springs and brakes on it..."
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Once again, nothing came of all this, which, had it transpired, would have changed the course of Watson's life - even if his aeroplane was not accepted for production by the War Office (it's difficult to fathom what military role his machine might have fulfilled since it had limited load carrying ability and couldn't carry a second crewmember, as well as rather average performance, even for a machine of its day, which all meant its potential was restricted), Watson would have had an influential position within one of the world's foremost aeronautical research establishments. He certainly believed Jouques to be a man of his word; he had visited the Lithuanian's aeroplane factory and was impressed by it.
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In the same letter as quoted above, Watson appears to show some disdain for his aeroplane, but no clue is presented as to why. perhaps his dissatisfaction with its performance on the world stage at the Concours earlier in the year? Nevertheless, Watson's father urges him to have nothing more to do with it.
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After all this, Watson wasn't finished with the No.3 and continued experimenting with it, however. In March 1915, during an interview with a Flight magazine reporter, Watson mentioned that he had fitted floats to it. It is most likely that they were floatation devices that provided buoyancy in the event of the aircraft ditching during over-water flights. Watson said that he intended on carrying out further experiments with it after the end of the war, since he had applied for a commission with the Royal Naval Air Service.
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The fate of Watson's last aeroplane is unknown, although James Manson claimed it was dismantled at the outbreak of war, but clearly, this wasn't the case. It was possibly destroyed after Watson's untimely death later in 1915.
Next, read about the Concours de La Sécurité en Aéroplanes: