CREME DE LA KLEMM
Flying Impressions of the Klemm 35D
By Martin Burdan
An early, still February morning, a lush paddock airstrip, two colorful Swedish aviators and their equally unique and colorful aeroplane ...
‘Want to fly her?’ asks Benni as we wander across the grass.
Two days earlier Sam, Dave, Catherine and I slipped in via Tiger Moths and are staying with Russell and Linda Brodie, soaking up the warmth of their hospitality, immersed in grass-roots aeroplane nirvana at Rangitata Island.
And it’s about to get better.
Hawkeye Wijkander and Benni Olafsson have again shipped their rare Klemm 35D from Sweden to New Zealand, this time for the 2004 Vintage Air Rally. Two days ago they completed reassembly and, after sitting out a 30 kt nor-wester the previous day, a more promising sky gradually unveils this morning.
The Klemm, with its orange wings, black fuselage and cranked wings is a striking sight, not to mention a scarce one. There are just four of this ex-Luftwaffe trainer left flying in the world and, by remarkable coincidence, Hawkeye’s father used to fly this particular example. The Klemm was used to train Stuka pilots in the art of the dive, being able to get to 340 kph with the engine howling at redline 3400 rpm. While such knowledge gives me confidence in the strength of the airframe I don’t feel any inclination to emulate a fledgling Stuka pilot on this flight.
I climb into the rear cockpit, watching my footing on the angled walkway of the cranked wing. The cockpit is much more spacious and less delicate than the Tiger, with the more solid, businesslike feel of the Stearman. A lever protruding broom-like from the lower right hand side of the seat smoothly adjusts seating height, giving one the feeling of either fuselage immersion at the lowest point or virtual ejection at the highest setting. I select something in between, hopefully balancing best visibility with least draft.
Benni assists trussing me with the very original looking five-point sutton-type harness. This is thankfully assisted with an extra hip strap, ensuring no adrenalin-inducing draft between my backside and the seat when inverted. Never a nice feeling in the Tiger and, unlike the Tiger, this aeroplane can prolong the event by running happily upside down.
Left to right around the cockpit. The throttle lever culminates in a large combination wood and metal spherical knob which begs for duty. No finger and thumb job this. The magneto switch is a similarly imposing lever protuding from the top left of the instrument panel with a flat circular knob at the end of it, rather like one of the keys on those old cash registers from the pre-electronic era. It moves up vertically from ‘off’ through three positions: left, right and both, clacking with reassuring solidity into a gate at each position. The ASI reads in kilometres per hour starting at 50 kph, with the Stuka-dive redline at 340 kph. ‘Climb at what feels right’ says Benni helpfully, which turns out to be between 130 and 140km/hr.
Altitude is indicated in metres, with every rotation of the larger hand of the altimeter being 500 metres, rather than the accustomed 1000 ft. I pause at this point to do some careful altitude translations, especially in anticipation of some aeros later on. The absence of an oil pressure gauge reveals one basic design feature of the 4.5 litre engine - no oil pump. The main bearings, around which the 11 piece crankshaft rotate, are roller, with lubrication entirely splash feed. One thing less to watch.
There are two fuel gauges, one for each wing tank on the right hand side of the panel, and surprisingly they both read zero. Hang on, aren’t the tanks both over half full? Benni reaches over and pumps a knob beneath each gauge and up rise the needles to the correct reading. This unusual system pumps air into the relevant tank and converts the air pressure differential against the fuel into a readout in litres. The needles fall to zero again as the pressure bleeds away. Nice to know about that, as first glance could be startling when airborne.
The extremely functional looking metal joystick has an ‘S’ bend near the top, both for ergonomic concession and in respect for the finer points of male personal comfort when the stick is held hard back. Elevator and ailerons are rod activated rather than cable and this contributes in part to the extremely positive response of the aircraft in all axes.
A shot of prime, crack the throttle a notch, hold the toe brakes and ‘contact!’ Hawkeye swings the laminated wooden prop and the 110 hp 4 cylinder crackles into teutonic life with a noticeably harsher tone than its British counterpart. Mostly this is because the headers from each exhaust port exhaust to atmosphere exactly where they join, unlike the Gipsy Major manifold which has a length of tailpipe to soften the percussive effect of each spent charge.
Check the mags with the cash register, squeeze on the power, full left rudder with just a touch of brake and we’re weaving onto the strip. ‘Careful on the brakes’, cautions Benni, as the left one has a tendency to snatch and lock. Won’t be touching those after touchdown. Once through the fairly sparse DVA checks we line up. Just a rustle of wind through the trees, take note of the three-point attitude, and I smoothly open the throttle.
Acceleration is sedate as expected from a reasonably loaded 110 hp aeroplane. Stick forward and up comes the tail, greatly improving visibility. A slight tendency to swing left which is easily corrected. Instantly the wheels leave the ground I am drawn to the precise control response and feedback of this wonderfully harmonised aircraft. There is instantly no desire to fly in straight lines - the Klemm just begs to frolic in three dimensions!
Exercising some restraint I gain some height to try a couple of stalls. No problems there - a little burbling and airframe nudging without any tendency to drop a wing. While not so tame when provoked with power and a little ‘g’, recovery remains straight forward throughout. I notice the cockpit is pleasantly draft-free and goggles are not needed. Try this in the rear cockpit of the Tiger with air funneling from all directions at once and your eyes are streaming bloodshot within 30 seconds.
Let’s have some fun and see what those ailerons can really do. A couple of crisp max rate turns and I ease the nose down for a roll. Hold her in the dive until things sound about right, nose up to the 45, check, and full right aileron with a touch of rudder. Wow! This makes the agile Chipmunk feel like flying in porridge, and remember the Klemm was designed ten years earlier before a time of rapid aeronautical advance. Pure luxury in the slow roll, being able to regulate matters throughout, especially through the inverted. Precisely unlike the Tiger which rapidly resigns any enthusiasm for the manoeuvre once gravity has strangled the engine to a splutter. And just at the worst possible time too, when the things you didn’t find in the cockpit preflight float past your goggles adding to the adrenalin. Of course such drawbacks serve to reinforce what a superb trainer the Tiger was, because once mastered everything else of a similar vintage feels straight forward.
But for now I wouldn’t want to be in any other cockpit. I’m hooked. What a beautiful aeroplane. The stall turn can be prolonged right to the last without any concern for stopping the prop. She rotates cleanly from the vertical with no hiccups in prop-wash providing plenty of rudder authority. Loops are fun, although perhaps a little more horsepower and a spare wing on top would help make them smoothly circular. Barrel rolls are pure joy with such precise response allowing a varied selection of barrel size.
Time to try some landings. The hard part. Better reign in the euphoria and concentrate again. I opt for a curving slip to keep the touchdown in sight. She locks into the slip beautifully, sitting on 110 kph with little increase in cockpit discomfort. Grass rushing up, straighten up, back on the stick, gently does it (those elevators are sensitive), up comes the nose, blind ahead now and I’m scanning the side of the strip ... stick fully back and she kisses the blades of grass. Stay with it though as the tail wheel is castoring and grabbing brakes won’t be useful if things go astray.
Three more circuits and I taxi in and shut down elated. Phew! Didn’t bend it. Later I am fortunate to fly this exceptional aeroplane solo, and without the extra weight up front she performs noticeable better. My sincere thanks and gratitude to Hawkeye and Benni for entrusting me with their magnificent flying machine. We hope to see you back in New Zealand soon!
