A friend asked me recently about airplane partnerships. “How have they worked for you?” he wondered. He owns an airplane now but would like to upgrade, and he thinks a partnership is the way to go. He sought my advice because he knows that I have a few partnership notches on my belt.
I’ve been a co-owner of 4.5 airplanes. That’s four whole, airworthy, flying airplanes and one I referred to at the time as a Stearman in a box. It was mostly a collection of parts that was continuously under construction. It was still unfinished when we finally sold it.
Asking someone about their airplane partnership, or partnerships, is like asking someone about their marriage, or marriages. For some, the answer is an easy and honest “Great!” or an equally easy and honest “Disastrous!” For many, however, it’s not a question that can be answered in 25 words or less. It’s complicated.
You might look at my checkered airplane ownership record and make a comparison to someone who has been married that many times. It must be my fault. The fact that I’ve been through 4.5 partnerships must say something about my inability to commit to a relationship. Or, perhaps I’m just a difficult guy to get along with. But like the guy who gets a divorce and then goes right out and remarries, I seem to keep coming back to airplane partnerships, so something about them must appeal to me.
That’s correct. Airplane partnerships are appealing, and there’s one simple reason why: I get virtually all the use I need or want from the airplane at a fraction of the cost. In my case that fraction has been one-half, onethird, and one-quarter of the cost of ownership because I’ve been in two-, three-, and four-person partnerships.
It’s difficult to argue against the economics of an airplane partnership. And here’s the really good news about my personal history: None involved a contentious divorce. Each of the partnership arrangements ended for some reason other than an inability of the partners to get along. In each case some circumstance changed, and the partners parted amicably.
Inevitably airplane partnership draws comparisons to a marriage, but that may be stretching the point. Marriage is a union based on a deeply felt emotional connection, a desire to share your life with another. An airplane partnership is essentially a relationship of convenience. Unlike a marriage, which is all about the relationship itself, an airplane partnership is focused on the shared asset—the airplane.
But, there’s a problem with airplane partnerships, and it’s the same one that poses problems in a marriage. Both involve people. Every person is different, a unique personality, and when more than one personality is involved in anything, things can get unpredictable.
With that in mind, I’d like to offer a few observations about airplane partnerships based on my experience and what I’ve seen in other such arrangements of convenience. The first observation is that there are no hard and fast rules governing airplane partnerships. Just as every person is different, every airplane partnership is different. No rules, just guidelines and suggestions.
To the extent possible, each partner should be comfortable with all of the other partners in terms of compatibility. It’s not a marriage, but unless the airplane is one that is used solely for business related transportation, a partnership is more than a strict business arrangement. It’s not easy to determine compatibility, but it’s very important to try. If in doubt, go with your gut.
Each of the partners should be able to afford the airplane. If one partner struggles just to make the monthly payment and then complains that he or she hardly ever flies the airplane because it costs too much, that partnership is headed into troubled waters.
Understand that a partnership lowers the cost of owning the airplane for each partner compared with sole ownership, but not necessarily the cost of operating it.
Fixed costs—acquisition, insurance, monthly hangar rent—are proportional to the number of partners. This is where the savings occur. Direct operating costs, however—fuel, oil, landing fees, hourly reserves for maintenance and engine and prop overhauls and anything else you factor into the reserves fund (repainting and interior refurbishing, for example)—should cost the same as if you owned the airplane by yourself.
Have realistic expectations. Most people rationalize buying an airplane because they will use it often and for a variety of missions—weekend trips, extended vacations, visiting family, business travel, sightseeing, and proficiency. Reality usually turns out to be something less ambitious.
Address problems quickly. Here’s where an airplane partnership is most like a marriage. Communication is essential to the success of each. In the absence of communication, people assume the worst. If one partner has a problem involving the other partner or partners, it must be put on the table. Did one of the partners have a hard landing that wasn’t disclosed? Is someone leaning improperly? We’re getting very little life out of the brakes and tires before they have to be replaced—who’s standing on the brake pedals on touchdown?
If such problems aren’t addressed quickly and satisfactorily, frustration builds quickly to the point where it may be beyond resolution.
Work out an equitable arrangement for paying for your fair share of the use. If you fly 25 percent of the hours, should you pay for 50 percent of the maintenance? That can be a tough one, because not all maintenance correlates directly to use.
It’s the surprises that will get you, and unscheduled maintenance leads the list of unpleasant surprises. Unscheduled means unexpected, and an unexpected maintenance event means an expense and an inconvenience that no one anticipated. You can reduce the angst of unscheduled maintenance by accepting the fact that it affects every airplane, and factoring the cost into your hourly operating expense.
It’s impossible to know how much unscheduled maintenance will cost each year, but you can arrive at a ballpark figure by talking to shops that have extensive experience maintaining the same make and model of airplane. They are often more realistic about maintenance issues than are owners.
Buy the best airplane possible. You can always find a deal, a good price, but remember the cliché that you get what you pay for. If you pay less, you get less. And then there’s that most hackneyed but truthful saying, you can pay me now or you can pay me later. In terms of partner relations, it’s much better to pay more up front for an airplane that will give you relatively trouble-free service than it is to get a great deal on one that has been rode hard and put up wet, and will require constant care to keep going.
It’s possible to make almost any partnership arrangement work. One of my airplane partners lived 1,000 miles away. We shared the airplane by allocating it seasonally. I got it for three months at a time; he got it for the next three months. Maybe it was the fact that, like a marriage, the physical separation made each of us work harder at making the relationship work.
Mark Twombly is a writer and editor who has been flying since 1968. He is a commercial pilot with instrument and multiengine ratings and flies a Piper Aztec.
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