I was thinking the other day when someone asked for a comparison between a couple of tailwheel airplanes that we often have folks here with experience flying in just about everything. But we don’t have a lot of pilot reports about a particular airplane. I’ve also noticed that people who ask questions about tail wheel airplanes tend to focus on a half dozen or so fairly common models while there are many many other options that may not be as well known today. Also, some of these, like the Fairchild 24W, are not only great flyers but fairly reasonable in cost to own.
So, I thought I’d give a Pirep on my 1946 Fairchild 24W.
The Fairchild is not an airplane I ever thought I’d want to own until I saw this. I’m a sucker for red airplanes, was looking for an enclosed cockpit tailwheel to fly during colder weather, saw it on Barnstormers, and as luck would have it I was going to be in the seller’s hometown the next week.
The F24 is bigger than I expected. It’s got a slab-sided fuselage much like cabin Waco’s. It’s got massive outrigger landing gear which gives it a bit of an odd appearance from the front. Originally equipped with Warner radials the plane isn’t bad looking but it doesn’t have the prettiest of antique lines. With the optional inline inverted Ranger engines, it has a fairly long, narrow snout, which is an acquired taste I haven’t yet acquired. My particular plane was restored with a Continental W670 engine which is even bigger around than a Warner so it sticks out of both sides of the plane. It’s another visage only a mother could love. I call the plane “Jimmy Durante” because of its big nose.
The fuselage is tall and the wing is high enough to walk under. The physical size of the plane makes an impression, and it is also easy to preflight without lots of stooping, bending, and crawling around.
The story of the Fairchild, perhaps somewhat of a legend, is that the designer wanted a more stable platform for aerial photography than existed elsewhere in the 1930’s so he designed his own plane. When he did he overbuilt everything. The fuselage, wings, gear, well, everything is hell for stout. The landing gear for example is a series of triangles and ultimately tied into the spar. With the wheel pants and fairings on the gear looks massive. Undressed it still looks massive. It is.
The interior is classic 1930s with room enough for three comfortably and four if you don’t need to carry a lot of baggage. You need to be a bit athletic to get in and out of it though as there is a tall step on both sides of the fuselage just below the two passenger doors with which to lever yourself up. Once inside the cabin, though smaller than a Waco, is quite comfortable. For the pilots, the seating position takes some getting used to as you sit a couple of blocks away from the panel. I have to loosen my shoulder straps to work the radio. But this seating position is comfortable and there is plenty of leg and shoulder room.
Of course, befitting a plane designed in the 1930’s there are roll-up windows in both doors. There is also a floor-mounted air scoop for more fresh air which I never use. The windows are enough. Though there is no heater I find the plane very comfortable down into the 20s and in the summer it’s quite comfortable into the 90s.
Unlike most other cabin airplanes the Fairchild has real, honest, sticks to control the plane with. They are topped with a knob made out of some kind of ancient plastic which is a convenient place to place the palm of your hand. Think of it as a sort of walking stick from a different time that you are going to nudge the plane around with. The stick is fairly short which takes adjusting to but, like the distant panel, gives the cockpit an open, roomy feel.
There is an active owners group for Fairchild’s and a lot of easily accessible tribal knowledge and help available at http://www.fairchild-club.org. And there are actually a lot of these planes flying. Despite that they aren’t all that common and they are also not expensive. You can’t spend $100k on one and most sell for between $40-60k. Yes, they have old, antique motors that require some deliberateness in seeking maintenance or finding parts. But, really, that’s an over-exaggerated concern. With a mid-time motor, most owners will never see overhaul flying as little as they really do and the engines are pretty bulletproof.
So, how’s it fly? Take off is leisurely. Stick back, throttle up, and take your time. The plane will too. After a bit of neutralizing the stick, add a bit of right rudder and the plane flies off nicely in a three-point attitude. You can force the stick forward if you need some isometric exercise but don’t count on popping the tail up like you do in many tail wheel planes. It’s called a tail “dragger” for a reason. Liftoff is about 60 miles per hour. I like to climb at 80 which you’ll reach just after takeoff. In the summer with full tanks (60 gallons!) and another pilot, the climb rate is about 500 fpm. Today, by myself with half tanks and 50-degree weather my plane climbed about 800-900 fpm. It cruises at 110 mph at about 1850 rpm burning 12 GPH.
My plane stalls, straight ahead at about 50 mph. I say “about” as my speedometer is like an old politician and likes to approximate rather than get pinned down to a number you can actually verify. When it does stall it’s not very exciting. It just bobs its head sort of like an old nag walking down a dusty road with a bored five-year-old on its back. Stick forces are a tad heavy in roll. The plane is sensitive in pitch I find but when you get the pitch trim dialed in you can fly it hands off. Feet off too for that matter. On long cross countries, just rest your hand on the walking stick, and recline your right foot against its pedal and you’ll hurry right along with no issues. It is super stable in cruise and would make a great IFR platform if you didn’t mind ruining the panel with a bunch of modern, ugly-looking, electronic crap.
Regardless of the engine, the planes seem to cruise at 110 mph. At some point drag always wins.
The yellow arc is 120 MPH and it’s not too difficult to get into it in the descent unless you pull the power back to about 1500 rpm. At that setting a nice, gentle 500 fpm descent works well. To set up to land there are only a few things to remember: full up pitch trim, flaps down no faster than 104 mph, and carb heat. It flies the pattern well at 100 mph with the pilot pushing on the stick to counteract the trim. Power back to about 1100 RPM and just drive it around. The flaps don’t add any lift just drag. I come down around 85-90 mph indicated but the indication is wrong. You’re going slower than that. Over the fence slower than that too but I’m not looking at the speedo.
Assume the position says Nedermeyer. That’s nose up of course and the plane settles into a nice three-point landing. I find this plane somewhat difficult to wheel land compared to most tail wheels I’ve flown so, unlike most other planes, I hardly ever wheel land it, even on concrete and even in strong crosswinds. The gear is wide which is forgiving. And it has a lot of travel and dampening which is also forgiving. And, unlike some others, you can actually use the Hayes brakes without mortal fear.
The one negative to the F24’s landing behavior is tail wheel shimmy. It starts when you bring the tail wheel onto the pavement going too fast sometimes. Other times, even when things seem perfect, it just shakes like it’s trying to loosen the fillings from your teeth. Today, for example, on my last landing, I was beginning to think I had a flat tire it went on so long. But, sure enough, get the speed down and stick pressure off the wheel and it stops.
To summarize, the Fairchild F24 is not the best-looking tail wheel airplane ever built but it is attractive to those who have learned to appreciate its strength of character (and airframe). It’s not the most luxurious liner from the golden age but it is more comfortable than many planes built since then. It’s economical to buy and operate. It’s easy to fly and pleasant to fly into the bargain. It is a bit different so it draws attention and interest unlike a Cessna 170 or some version of Citabria. It’s a real antique if a 1930s model, or a charming anachronism from the classic period if you have a post-war example like mine. I have a 1946 Cessna too. The same year as the Fairchild but a completely different era. Both are fun and easy to fly. I don’t think I need to tell you which I like better. Sort of like the old dog from your childhood, you forgive its puddles.
If you like to cook things out of a box or can an F24 is not for you. If you take everything in life literally and have no imagination an F24 is not for you. If digital precision and flying by numbers (Eckalbar anyone?) rather than the seat of your pants is your bag the F24 is not for you. If you think the earth is flat and so should motors the F24 is not for you. If your happy place is to be inconspicuous the F24 is not for you. If flying is the thing you do until 500 feet AGL or after 500 feet AGL the F24 is not for you. If you’re in a hurry to cheat yourself out of building time in your log book, don’t like looking around at the ground while going nowhere in a hurry, and can’t bear the thought of driving around with the windows down, well the F24 isn’t for you either.
But, if none of those things apply to you well maybe you should consider one for your tailwheel toy. Like things simple and simple things? Check. Art Deco combined with functional aesthetic? Check? Rather be comfortable than fast? Check. Willing to clean up a little oil in exchange for the music made by a radial? Check.
Happy to answer any questions.
Written By
Tony Caldwell



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