Over the past century many beautiful aircraft have graced the skies above Britain.
The flying kites of Sopwith and Bristol, the sleek beauty of the Supermarine Spitfire,
and the terrifying but awe-inspiring lines of the Avro Vulcan.
But there have also been an equal number of aircraft that didn’t look quite as good,
and that’s the topic of today’s video.
Now while these aircraft may represent some deeply disturbing visual horrors, or questionable
design decisions, they weren’t all necessarily bad aircraft – I want to make that clear.
Beauty did not guarantee success, nor did ugliness always lead to failure.
So, with their effectiveness put aside, lets take a look at what I believe to be ten of
the ugliest planes built in the United Kingdom.
Coming in at number 10 is this: the Vickers Vulcan.
Designed at the start of the 1920s, the Vulcan was built as an eight-passenger airliner,
one of the first of its kind, and at first glance it appeared that Vickers designers
couldn’t figure out if they were designing a plane or an airship.
Originally, its design was based on the Vickers Vimy, but by the time the first Vulcan flew
in 1922 there was little resemblance between them.
Built for efficiency and reduced cost, it featured just one engine, and its two-blade
propeller looked comically small in comparison.
Nicknamed the Flying Pig for its looks, it quickly earned a reputation for being underpowered
and unreliable, even after its 360hp Rolls Royce Eagle was replaced with a 450hp Napier
Lion.
Despite numerous problems, this tubular aircraft was put on display at the 1925 Empire Exhibition
at Wembley…ostensibly as a representative of Britain’s progress in civil aviation,
which no doubt did wonders for the morale of international competition.
At number 9 we have an aircraft that’s been featured on this channel before: the A.D Scout.
In the first world war, the British Admiralty became obsessed with creating the perfect
wonder weapon for hunting down and destroying the Zeppelin Menace.
However, they also had limitations with budget and resources, so they drew up a requirement
for an aircraft that could be made from so-called ‘commercially available resources’ and
it was to be equipped with a quick-firing 40mm recoilless cannon.
The end result was an aircraft so strange and flimsy in appearance that I suspect a
medium-speed collision with a pigeon would have been enough to knock it out of the sky.
The A.D Scout looked about as stable as an intoxicated giraffe, and it flew as badly
as it looked.
After its cancellation its designer went to work for Blackburn, where he “improved”
this design into what would become the equally unsightly Blackburn triplane.
But this proved no more successful than the original, and the brave pilots of the Fleet
Air Arm were spared the traumatic experience of ever seeing these things in numbers.
Wading in at number 8 is an aircraft that was as ugly as it was successful: the Fairey
Gannet.
With a jet pipe sticking out of the side like the siphon of an octopus, bent wings, contra-rotating
propellers with a psychedelic yellow and black spinner, and often equipped with a radar that
made it look like it was in its third trimester, the Gannet was the chunky darling of the Fleet
Air Arm.
The Gannet had a long and fascinating service life, operating for 25 years between 1953
and 1978.
If looks could kill, it was certainly an effective weapon, but seeing as it could carry four
nuclear depth charges it wouldn’t matter if the gannet looked like a swan or a swine,
its enemy was going to either be blinded by its looks, or its payload.
The Fairey Gannet was also an innovation, being the first turboprop aircraft to see
carrier operations in the world, and its powerplant system was remarkably practical and reliable.
It featured not one, but two fuselage-mounted Armstrong-Siddely Mamba engines; these drove
the two contra-rotating propellers, but each engine drove its own propeller independently.
This allowed the Gannet to shut down one engine to enter a low power, loitering mode for sub
hunting, and in the right conditions this reduced its fuel consumption to just a pound
of fuel for each mile covered.
And so, despite looking like a plane that stayed too long at the all-you-can-eat buffet,
it was remarkably frugal.
Up next in sixth place we have the Miles Aerovan.
If the Oxford Dictionary had an aviation equivalent, then this aircraft would have appeared under
the definition of the word ‘rotund’.
This plump looking thing was designed in 1944 as a twin-engine, short-range, low-cost transport.
Affordability was a core aspect of its design, to both make it appealing as a wartime transport,
and as a peacetime transport during the expected economic austerity when the war had concluded.
Unfortunately, its development was put on hold until the end of the war, as Miles had
developed it privately and the British Air Ministry took issue with this unauthorised
use of materials.
When the war was over, the predicted demand for the Aerovan immediately appeared, but
because of the Air Ministry’s ruling Miles had been unable to prepare for this demand
and customer orders outstripped their ability to deliver.
Despite this, the Aerovan proved incredibly popular, and it was used to transport everything
from furniture, to food, to livestock.
In one incident an Aerovan was nearly brought down by its cargo of pigs, who in a panic
began charging up and down the cargo hold when the aircraft was about half-way across
the English Channel.
The undulating motion caused by the rampaging porkies, combined with the large mess they
made, resulted in the poor pilot being rather unwell when he finally managed to land.
Ironically, the success of the Aerovan, an aircraft designed for cost-saving transportation,
was curtailed with the bankruptcy of Miles in 1947.
Coming in at number five we have what appears to be a Hawker Siddeley Nimrod that lost a
fight with a couple of bees.
This is in fact the British Aerospace Nimrod AEW3, which was a proposed airborne early
warning aircraft from the 1980s that proved to be nothing but a cornucopia of problems.
The Nimrod on its own had its fair share of issues as it was, and wasn’t much of a looker
either, and apparently nobody stopped to question the idea of making a complex, unreliable airframe
even more complex and unreliable, and making it even more ugly into the bargain – courtesy
of a pair of complex radar systems.
The complexity of the project was compounded by the fact that it was a joint venture between
British Aerospace and GEC Marconi, who both had the wonderful tendency of blaming each
other whenever something went wrong.
The end result was an over-budget, over-built, comically bulbous aircraft who’s computer
memory was so small that it was sometimes full and had to be cleared before it had even
left the runway.
Ultimately the project was cancelled, and the Avro Shackleton, which this failure was
meant to replace, had to soldier on until the 1990s.
In fourth place, just short of a podium finish comes the Handley Page Heyford…boy this
was an ugly biplane.
Entering service in late 1933/early 1934 this jacked-up abomination was obsolete pretty
much from day one.
Despite this, it was still taken on in force and 125 of these unflattering bombers were
delivered.
The unique placement of the fuselage, being attached to the upper wing rather than the
lower, allowed ground crews to safely attached bombs even when the engines were running.
It also meant that the pilot was at a lofty 17 feet -5 meters- from the ground, which
while good for visibility made landing a tricker affair.
Designed for night-time bombing and with a maximum speed of just 142 mph – or 229 kmh
- its service life was destined to be brief, and they were gradually phased out between
1937 and 1939.
Though not kept on as a bomber, a few Heyfords saw service during the second world war either
as testbeds or as glider tugs, some were actually used to test inflight refuelling.
They were reportedly a constant cause for amusement amongst the younger RAF pilots who
wondered why Hadley Page had built their old bomber upside down.
Lumbering into third place is the Blackburn R.1 Blackburn, perhaps one of the ugliest
things to ever spoil the deck of Her Majesty’s aircraft carriers.
Designed as a fleet spotting and reconnaissance aircraft, the Blackburn had a deep slab-sided
fuselage that was dictated by the dimension of its large W-12 Napier Lion engine.
Function over form had been the mantra when designing this thing, and perhaps Blackburn
had taken it too literally as it had been originally so uncomfortable for its three-man
crew that numerous alterations had to be made during its development.
Though it looked atrocious, the Blackburn did its job pretty well, serving for over
eight years and being built in fairly respectable numbers for its time.
It even spawned a training variant, which was somehow even more ugly than the original,
but by the early 1930s it was totally obsolete, and it was finally replaced with the much
easier on the eyes Fairey Fox.
Coming in second place is a product of the cold war.
In the 1950s and 60s many aircraft were built around the delta wing principle, and many
of these were sleek, elegant, and refined…the Handley Page 115 was none of these things.
When viewed from the side it looks like the placement of the engines and the cockpit was
misaligned at some point during construction, as nothing properly lines up.
But there was a reason behind this, it was a testbed to evaluate the handling of delta-wing
aircraft at low speeds and at a high angle of attack.
This is why it is probably the only jet-powered delta-wing aircraft to come with a fixed landing
gear.
Owing to the nature of its design, it was not expected to be particularly stable.
As a result of this test pilots had to undergo a rigorous training program with a simulator
before they were allowed to operate the actual aircraft.
At one point Neil Armstrong was scheduled to test fly the aircraft as part of an international
co-operation program, but after his selection for the Apollo missions NASA revoked his permission
to fly the HP 115 from fear of losing him in an accident.
He would eventually go on to fly it after he had been to the moon.
Despite looking about as stable as British fiscal policy in the 1970s the 115 enjoyed
a relatively trouble-free life.
It completed its test program in 1974, and is now on display at the Fleet Air Arm museum
where it attempts to terrify the local visitors.
Finally, in first place, we have something truly horrific.
Ironically it comes from a company that would give us some of the best-looking aircraft
ever made, but not this one.
This was their first, their dark secret, their villain origin story, the skeleton in their
closet, this was the Supermarine Nighthawk.
Yes, I know its horrible, even now I’m avoiding the urge to wash my eyes out with bleach but
there you have it.
This was another product of the Admiralty’s obsession with Zeppelin hunting.
It was originally designed by the Pemberton Billing company, but when its founder tired
of aviation and moved into politics the company was re-formed as Supermarine.
Completed in 1917, it was a swept-wing quadraplane that was apparently built to the principle
of “if I don’t believe in drag coefficient, it can’t hurt me”.
Although it was claimed to have a top speed of 75 mph -121 kmh-, the prototype barely
managed 60mph and took over an hour to reach 10,000 feet.
Its failure as a potential zeppelin hunter is further crystalised when it is considered
that Zeppelins themselves could be capable of top speeds that matched the nighthawk,
which would have made for the slowest arial chase in history had they ever met in action.
Had it managed to somehow intercept a Zeppelin, it would have brought to bear a 37mm recoilless
Davis gun and a swivel mounted Lewis Machine gun.
But its probably a good thing this never happened as the nature of the Davis gun limited its
fire-arc considerably, as you didn’t really want the ejected shell case perforating your
fuselage, and the unreliability of the Anzani engines that were meant to equip it made the
advertised endurance of 9 hours seem more like a fantasy rather than an actual projection.
Success or failure aside though, the Nighthawk was one ugly beast, and thankfully only one
was ever built.
And that rounds of my list of Britain’s top 10 ugliest aircraft.
As always thank you all so much for watching, a big thank you of course to the Patreons,
with a special shout out to Kevin, Delliardo, Bane, FB, Christopher R, Tronathon, Erik Hindman,
John Austin Jr, Ray Culotta, Keith Tarrier, Greenseaships, Northlincsweb, MCT, Ted Parsons,
and Capitano Lorenzo for their support as Wing Commander Tier Patreons.