Friday, August 25, 2006

Admiralty Compass Observatory

Below: 1917 picture of a workshop.
And now... some extracts from a 1932 article in a national newspaper about the (tremendous) ACO.
Note the tensionous jostling of rustic and high-tech imagery in the mens' room, and the (when seen detachedly) hilarious separation of gender, both literally (different rooms) and by association (painting, faces, gardens etc).
So, the journalist is being taken on a tour of the buildings....

“Then the workshops – the faint murmur of machinery and the rustling tick-tick-tick of lathe-belts passing round their pulleys. Men manipulating queer metal shapes from the complicated internals of gyros, men peering through magnifying glasses, men gently waving magnets near hesitating compass cards, each man with the blank, abstracted face of concentration.”

Next...
“Three girls in a room apart, touching the small cylindrical faces of aero compass cards with fine paint brushes tipped with radium paint.”

And then, in the Magnetic Test Room...
“high French windows looking out upon the garden. Two women were bending over compasses on turn-tables, one a boat’s compass, one an aero compass. Had they been busied with embroidery the scene would scarcely have been more peaceful.”


Ha!

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Photo-history of the aerocompass

This is the first decent aerocompass.

On hearing of pilots' compass-troubles Captain Creagh-Osborne, of the Compass Department, put a submarine compass in a bedding of horsehair to counter the effects of the aeroplane's vibration and took it up in Colonal Cody's plane. This was only a year after Cody's first powered flight and made Creagh-Osborne the first Naval Officer to fly. Yippee.

This little beauty is from 1915, when Creagh-Osborne was working in close communication with a few manufacturing firms. Their joint design has fancy new ways of dealing with vibration (rubber, springs, blah), a vertical and simplified reading card to make things easier for those pressured pilots, and an inverted pivot to make the card spin in a more groovy way.

Of course, the RAE (precursor to RAF) over at Farnborough wanted to have a go too, and came up with this rather inelegant effort, also in 1915. It has a much slower period (i.e. the needle oscillates much more slowly) than those of the Admiralty Compass Observatory; this was the RAE's solution to the wild behaviour of the needle when the aeroplane turns. Known as 'northerly turning error' this problem was due to the fact that when the aeroplane banks, the needle begins responding to the vertical component of the earth's magnetic field. We're not interested in that component. It really sucks. It means that when you turn towards the north the compass under-indicates the turn, so that you turn too far and may even enter a spin, and when you turn towards the south it over-indicates it so that you don't turn enough. The idea of the slow period compass is that it registers turns so slowly that these problems don't have time to take effect, and the pilot doesn't end up constantly over-correcting his course.

The ACO, however, began employing two Proper Scientists in about 1918. With a military-industrial-academic complex under full swing, what should appear but an aperiodic compass! This was really very cool. The needle didn't oscillate in a silly way when the plane had finished a turn, and yet responded quickly. By now the compasses also has a better way of dealing with the problems caused by flying at high altitudes. There the low pressure and temperature would cause the liquid to contract, and so result in the formation of bubbles, which screw up the movement of the needle system. At first they used expansion chambers; then Creagh-Osborne asked his manufacturing buddies to put in an airtrap, which was a little better. Really what they wanted to do was make the liquid out of pure alcohol, but then this would cause the paint inside to dissolve, so that a) the markings couldn't be read so well and b) little bits would get into the liquid. It really was tricky business.

From 1922, separate compasses for the plane's observer/navigator and its pilot were designed by the ACO. Above is a rather lovely observer's compass, complete with azimuth for taking bearings and serving as a bombsight, and the picture before was a pilot's compass. This 'observer' entity existed for a short, 50 year period and then dissappeared again, poor chap.

Then they had the Second World War, and all sorts of other stuff happened.

Friday, August 18, 2006

bombs <-> aeroplanes <-> people/mail

1919, Jan 16th:

"It is perfectly certain that we are on the eve of a tremendous development in commercial aviation... It is true that the machine designed for war is not the best type for commercial purposes, but it is equally true that the one designed to carry a large number of passengers or a heavy weight of mail or goods is quite capable of carrying a corresponding weight of bombs"

- Editor's comment, Flight magazine, the first journal of the aircraft community (hooray!)