Pilotage

The one-year anniversary of owning my second airplane is fast approaching. Actually, I am one of two owners. Lots of airplanes are owned by two or more partners, for the obvious reason that, when compared to sole ownership, a partnership reduces the initial investment and ongoing expenses for each owner. For those of us involved in such arrangements, the financial benefits of a partnership outweigh the chief disadvantage, which is nonexclusive use of the airplane.

However, my partnership is fundamentally different, in that my partner and I live about 1,000 miles apart. How do two people who live halfway across the country share one airplane? Here's the story.

I owned my first airplane, a Cessna 172M, for five years. I bought it in California, flew it home to Maryland, then took it with me to Kansas City in 1994. In December 1996 I ferried the airplane to our new home base in southwest Florida.

The move to Missouri resulted in a precipitous decline in the number of hours that I flew the 172. With my business travel needs fulfilled by the company Beech F33A Bonanza, I had no good cross-country destinations with which to keep the Skyhawk busy. It became increasingly difficult to justify the cost of owning an airplane.

Then my friend Doug came into the picture. An accomplished pilot who had previous experience with airplane partnerships, Doug offered to buy into the 172. It worked out perfectly. We were compatible airplane partners in virtually every respect, from flying techniques to maintenance philosophy. The only thing that rubbed me wrong was my son's offhand comment that Doug made better landings. Even if it was true (and it was), he didn't have to say it.

When I moved from Kansas City, I bought Doug's interest in the Skyhawk and once again became sole owner. My flying increased, mostly because I no longer had use of a high-performance airplane for business transportation. I soon realized, however, that although the Skyhawk was great for flying around Florida, its sub-110-knot cruise speed made longer, out-of-state flights a test of patience. It was time to move up to something faster.

In the midst of looking at several older Mooneys, I heard from Doug. Stop wasting your time looking at singles, he counseled. I needed to be flying a twin, he said. But not just any twin. I needed to be flying a Piper Twin Comanche. But not just any Twin Comanche. Doug said that I needed to be flying his Twin Comanche, the one that he had bought after I left town with the Skyhawk.

I liked the idea of a twin, especially a Twin Comanche. It's the Mooney of piston twins — a mechanically simple airplane with good cruise performance on relatively modest fuel consumption. I also liked the idea of partnering again with Doug. There was just one problem with his proposal, a problem that was a thousand miles long.

Not a problem, but an opportunity, Doug countered. He wasn't flying the airplane enough, especially during those cold western-Missouri winters. On the other hand, where I live summers are hot and the air is bumpy. Winter is the ideal flying season. I was beginning to sense the synergy.

Why not split possession of the airplane, Doug proposed. It would be his for six months during the summer, and I would take it over the winter. If either of us needed it for a special trip when the other had it, we could work that out, too.

I was intrigued. The time-share arrangement just might work, I thought, especially since I have access to airplanes during the summer through a local flying club.

There were other positive factors about the proposed partnership. Soon after buying the Twin Comanche, Doug made a considerable investment in upgrading the panel. A handsome new black metal panel housed overhauled backlit instruments and a lot of new stuff, including a two-axis coupled autopilot, HSI, attitude indicator, IFR-approved GPS, a VFR GPS with a small but useful moving map display, a digital combined voltmeter and ammeter, electric clock, and four-place intercom with music input. I probably would have had to search long and pay dearly for equal treatment in an older Mooney.

Doug also had begun to bring up the airplane to a higher standard of maintenance by replacing critical older components including engine hoses, and by thoroughly researching compliance with applicable airworthiness directives.

The deciding factor was financial. Doug made an attractive offer, one that enabled me to fly more airplane for less money than if I'd bought a single on my own.

That was 11 months ago. I've had my six months of sole possession and exclusive use, during which I flew about 130 hours. The Twin Comanche proved to be a wonderful transportation tool. Because of its speed and IFR capability, I considered it a go-anywhere, go-anytime airplane.

By sharing expenses and doing much of the maintenance under the supervision of an inspector, we can afford to maintain the airplane well and pursue upgrades that probably wouldn't be possible if we were going it alone.

Our six-months-with, six-months-without partnership enables us to enjoy more airplane than we could as sole owners. Although I have possession of it for only half the year, when I have it, I have all of it. I can set up the cabin the way I want, keep my stuff in the airplane between flights, and not have to worry about scheduling the airplane in advance.

Of course, it would be ideal if I had use of the airplane all year, but unless I can convince Doug and his family that they would be warmer, have perpetual tans, and be able to wear tank tops and shorts all year if they left Kansas City for sunny southwest Florida, we're destined to continue trading seasonal possession of an airplane owned by long-distance partners.