The Stearman 75 draws much of its design from the earlier Model 70, which was flight tested for the US Army and Navy in 1934. The Navy ordered the Model 70, while the Army waited
for the improved Model 75 two years later.
The Model 75 would probably have passed into obscurity had the Allies not been caught so unprepared for the Second World War. Not only were the Allies in desperate need of weaponry,
but of men and the tools needed to train them. A total of 8,584 Model 75s were built in five variants. Most were divided between the USAAF and USN, although the RCAF also obtained
300 winterized models.
Students quickly nicknamed their brightly painted trainer the "Yellow Peril" in reference to its somewhat tricky ground handling characteristics. This contrasted with the Royal Air
Force's evaluation, which concluded the Stearman was too forgiving an airplane to fly. Americans preferred to work up to more challenging planes, while the British felt it was
better to challenge their students right away.
Later in the war another version, the Model 76, was sold to Argentina, Brazil and the Philippines. The Model 76 featured wing mounted 0.30 calibre machine guns, a bomb rack between
the landing gear and a single machine in the rear cockpit.
After the war, thousands of surplus Stearmans flooded onto the civilian market. Many found employment as crop dusters, sprayers, and even fire bombers. Others were used for aerobatics. Many simply rotted away when newer, metal airplanes replaced them. A common modification was to remove the Lycoming, Continental, or Jacobs engines and replace them with 450hp Pratt & Whitney R-985s. These planes became known as Super Stearmans, Stearman 450s or Buhl Stearmans and were quite the performers.
Notice the smile?
(S. McTavish)
September in Calgary is a bit cool. Most of us spend our flights with the cabin heat engaged and certainly not contemplating a
flight in an open cockpit biplane. But when you're given the chance to actually fly a vintage warbird personal comfort sometimes
takes a back seat.
For several years Sunwest Aviation has been offering biplane rides, usually as sight seeing trips around Calgary. But for licensed
pilots, or those interested in truly experiencing a Stearman flight, they'll install the control stick in the front cockpit. That's
what I did.
Before leaving Calgary International I bundled up in some heavy clothes, a full length flight suit and a jacket.
Once airborne and near the twin stacks I took control and proceeded into my usual performance of gentle, then steep turns. That's
when Gary Radjo, Sunwest's pilot walked me through some fighter breaks, bank over to 60 degrees and yank. Wow, that was fun. Do it
again then let's try a loop. Even though I knew I was well strapped in I tightened my harness just a little more then gave the
okay. Dive for the ground, get 120 mph, then pull back. Despite all my mental preparation I caught myself hanging onto that
control stick with all my might. Enough so that Gary jokingly told me not to hold it so tight. Knowing that I wasn't going to fall
out once inverted, we tried it again.
All this time we'd been working our way north to a grass field near Crossfield for some circuits. Grass and running north-south the
field was a pilot's dream and Gary told me he used to fly Harvards in there. So we set ourselves up for landing. I'd been told to
use the valve covers on the cylinder heads as a guide for my three-point attitude and it worked great. A couple more circuits and I
was really becoming comfortable with the Stearman's characteristics. Then a heavy thump. My perfect approach turned to an
ungraceful touchdown. Thinking I was a couple inches too high I asked Gary about my altitude. "Oh, about three feet. Let's keep
it lower next time." I fell from three feet? I guess those extra wings kept me from entering a full stall. The big tires and 12"
oleo travel certainly helped.
Still thinking about the poor landing I took off and quickly found myself an extra 500 feet above the circuit. Thinking I'd need to
overshoot Gary reminded me about side-slipping. With all the wings, wires, wheels and two heads sticking out of the fuselage making
drag we came down faster than an elevator. A nice flare and smooth touchdown salvaged the day.
Back in Calgary, the Stearman waits for its next customer.
(T. McTavish)
The shear enjoyment of open cockpit flying in a vintage warbird wiped the cold from my mind. Even today, years after my flight,
I still find myself looking back at that flight with a smile on my face.