Fulfilling a childhood dream

In French, Demoiselle means young girl or dragonfly and the tiny monoplane first designed by Santos Dumont in 1908 does look like a dragonfly. It was the inspiration for Julian Aubert to create his own as he explains.

Iwas 13-years old when, on Argentinean television, I saw the film Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines made in the UK in 1965. One of the planes featured in the film was a replica of the Demoiselle of Santos Dumont (flown by a Joan Hughes). I was so thrilled by the film that I said to my elder brothers that one day I will build a Demoiselle. Nobody believed me, as one would expect, it was a kid’s dream after all. The film awoke an interest in the Edwardian aviation period and my passion for aviation in general. When I was 17, we emigrated to the UK and during a visit to the Science Museum saw a model of the Demoiselle.

With a rather poor command of English, I made enquiries about the plane. Kindly the curator talked to me about the plane, its history and mentioned the

Working in the Annex of the Wellington Hangar. Strut number 1 is taking shape as Julian could then assemble the front section of the fuselage and measure properly.

existence of the Science Museum Library. It was at the library that I started to read books from the period and where my interest in that particular period of aviation strengthened. In 1985, I bought a copy of the two A1 sheets of drawings for the Demoiselle and read articles about the plane.

Research It is worth mentioning that before the Wright brothers made their first flight in 1903, there was a strong belief that heavier than air machines could not fly. The debate dominated a number of scientific forums of the period. Creativity was at the forefront with all sorts of designs, layouts and configurations being tried and tested. One of the most interesting aspects of the period is perhaps that one person would design, build and attempt to fly his machine, without any knowledge as to how it would behave. Unthinkable in today’s world. Years went by and life presented other priorities. Before getting married, I told my wife about my dream of building a Demoiselle and my intention to fulfil it. She agreed to it for her sins!

According to the research, there was the original Demoiselle that Santos built at the Musee de l’Air et de l’Espace in Paris. I thought it was really important to see it and find out exactly how the ‘original Demoiselle’ looked. We didn’t have a lot of money and, at the time, our only means of transport was an old small motorcycle and with it we went from London to Paris. When I saw the Demoiselle, a big disappointment. I was convinced that it was not the original Demoiselle. The plane exhibited could not have been built by Santos Dumont. There were a number of refined details in Santos’ Demoiselle that were not present in the one exhibited. For example, it had pedals to control the rudder instead of a small wheel on the left-hand side, round tubes instead of oval

Prince Michael of Kent was intrigued by the Demoiselle.

tubes, a central control column instead of one on the right-hand side for the elevator and one behind the pilot’s seat for the wing warping mechanism. The wings had profiled ribs made out of wood instead of simply bent bamboos. The fuselage was longer than the original and the strut designs differed from the original. King posts with landing wires were added, something the Demoiselle didn’t need nor had, among other significant differences. While at the library of the museum, the more I read the more convinced I was the information provided appeared to be tailored to mislead visitors who did not know much about the Demoiselle. At one point, I saw a photo of Santos in the Demoiselle displayed at the museum in flight. After close examination of the photo, it was clear that the plane was hanging from a wire.

Disappointed by my experience in Paris, I decided to contact John Bagley, the curator of the Science Museum in South Kensington, London. I explained what happened and that I thought we ought to write a letter to the French museum. I felt strongly that it was wrong to tell the general public something that was not right. John said there are many exhibits that may not be exactly right and gave me the example of the Apollo Spacecraft at the Science Museum. On that basis, he felt it was wrong to intervene.

A bigger challenge Faithful to my principles, I decided to write a letter to the Director of the French museum. In the letter, I asked if he could confirm whether or not the plane was the original. A number of details explaining why I was questioning its authenticity were outlined. A couple of weeks later, I received a reply from the Vice-Director, stating that indeed I was right, the exhibited plane was found in a factory during the 1920’s. It is believed to be a prototype of the original design for a production run, which did not take place because of the First World War. After the war, aviation advanced so much that it was of no interest to build this plane. At the same time, he insisted that it is the only original that exists in the world. I agree that it is an authentic reproduction of the period but it remains an interpretation of the Demoiselle, not the one that Santos designed or built, let alone flew. Being a prototype for a production run justified the removal of a number of refined features of the Santos original design.

A couple of weeks after receiving the first letter, a second one arrived. This time from the Director of the Musee de l’Air et de l’Espace in Paris. In his letter, he stated the aeroplane displayed is the original and only one in the world. He also sent a small booklet explaining the history of the Demoiselle and Santos Dumont, in case I wanted to learn something about the plane. This letter incentivised me to write another letter enclosing the response of the Vice-Director including an explanation as to why the answer of the Vice-Director was consistent with my research. It goes without saying that a reply was never received.

Over time, I came to the conclusion that neither the original Demoiselle nor a reproduction of the period existed. Remember, Santos didn’t patent his designs and encouraged others to build his designs. To some extent, this made me question my project. On the one hand, it made it a bigger and more interesting challenge than I originally thought but on the other I didn’t have any reference to see exactly how it was designed and built. When the Demoiselle was made, photography was

Gerry discussing alternative ways of covering the centre section.

in its infancy, information was limited and records about the construction details scarce. If I built a version of the Demoiselle, faithful to that designed by Santos, would the public be aware of it? Would anybody care?

Where do I start? It was December 1995 and we were expecting our first child when, with the agreement of my wife Kareen, the construction started. But, how do you go about building an aeroplane? I am an economist by training not an engineer. Contacting the Popular Flying Association (PFA) and explaining my intensions was a good starting point, I thought. Not only would the PFA give me advice but also encourage me.

When the PFA saw the project, it was clear that there was no way they would give me a permit to fly ‘an aeroplane made out of bamboo’! A recommendation was made to make a replica of the replica made for the film Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines. However, I wanted to build something faithful to the original and this was the last push and incentive to go ahead with the project. Challenges give me energy, motivation and determination. The tail was relatively easy to build, principally made of garden bamboos. While building it, I realised it had an intricate crucifix linking it to the fuselage, allowing the tail, consisting of elevator and rudder in unison, to move in all directions. Once the tail was completed, it was time to move on to the fuselage, which is made of bamboo longerons and mild steel oval tubes brazed together. A friend talked to me about Nuneaton college, which provided car restoration courses. I registered but I could not do the complete course because I was working full time in London. My boss would allow me to take days off to go to Nuneaton to braze struts. Going very early in the morning, I would spend the whole day at the college welding as many pieces as I could. By the time I went home, I had the impression I was floating probably from the oxyacetylene welding gas.

Eventually a place was identified in Haywards Heath where bamboos could be bought. Typically, bamboos were sold for furniture making. It was a major discovery as the internet barely existed at the time. I asked if I could select the bamboos myself and I carefully looked at many but selected only a few.

John Penney brings the propeller, which we fitted and take a moment to enjoy our work.

Soon, the aeroplane was growing in the back garden shed, but space was running out. There was a replica Demoiselle at Brooklands Museum, but rather different to the original as it was made of steel tubing. After contacting Julian Temple, former Curator of the museum, it was agreed for Edwardian aviation expert Mike Beach to assess my project prior to Brooklands’ acceptance.

Faithful design Meeting Mike in April 1996 was fascinating. My wife was heavily pregnant by then (Constance was born in May), but she helped me to assemble the fuselage section of the plane at Brooklands for Mike to inspect. Mike was very pleased to see how it was being built and he complimented the construction of the tail because it was faithful to the original

design. On that basis, the project was accepted by Brooklands, which meant that I would have a bit of space to continue with the construction in the former annex of the Wellington Hangar, which flooded from time to time.

Mike and I developed a sound relationship and he became a formidable mentor. Often I would go to Mike’s house to show bits made and he would send me back to re-do them with lighter material or a slightly different shape. In the end, there were probably more than two Demoiselles built if we consider the number of parts that were remade. Mind you, Mike was very knowledgeable and his advice was invaluable.

Eventually, we had to do the fabric work on the plane, so I asked Brooklands’ volunteers for help and they suggested Gerry Winter, who was the former team leader for the construction of the SE5 replica at Brooklands among other roles. By then Gerry had stopped being a volunteer but I managed to persuade him to work on the Demoiselle. Gerry and his daughter, Caroline, were very happy to meet up at Brooklands in the evenings to work on the fabric. It was challenging during the winter, requiring many tea breaks. My wife Kareen and daughter Constance were also part of the working team at weekends.

The subsequent challenge was the engine, originally built in 1909. Only a handful were ever made, making it almost impossible to source. A compromise had to be achieved but it had to look right. Mike suggested a Douglas or the ABC Scorpion engine from the 1920s. After searching for a long time, I came across a DAF 44 (Variomatic) that has an interesting flat twin air-cooled engine. Having spoken to Mike about it, he mentioned that a friend of his, John Penney, had modified a DAF to fit into a plane and that I should contact John with a view to finding out the modifications he made. Following a visit to John in South Wales, I realised the complexity of the modifications and decided to advertise in the PFA magazine for a flat twin engine. John saw the advert and kindly offered the engine to me, all I had to do was to pick it up. He loved the Demoiselle project and not only did he give me the engine but also made the propeller currently fitted to the plane.

In March 1999, we carried out the first engine run on the Demoiselle, meaning the project was completed in three years and three months. It is thanks to Brooklands’ support, its volunteers and passionate aviators that my dream was accomplished.