In today’s episode we’ll be exploring an unusual and little-known flying boat hailing
from interwar France - with a single engine, a large capacious hull, and very… ‘unorthodox’
looks – we are of course talking about the Loire 130.
Now some of my wonderful viewers were a little upset that this featured in my “top 10 ugliest”
French aircraft video, so hopefully today will make up for that.
The Loire 130 originally had its design roots in a specification drawn up by the Aéronavale
in 1933, which requested a multirole three-seater reconnaissance aircraft capable of being launched
from a ship-borne catapult.
The specification put strict requirements on weight, length, and wingspan to accommodate
use aboard both cruisers and battleships, but to allow aircraft designers some leeway,
both floatplanes and flying boat designs would be accepted.
The specification was adopted quickly by Chantiers de la Loire, which had a rich history of designing
seaborne vessels as far back as 1881.
The design they proposed was a high-wing monoplane, with a central buoyant hull (thus classifying
the aircraft as a flying boat), and twin outrigger lateral stabilising floats.
Its single inline engine would be mounted on struts above the central fuselage, driving
a three-bladed propellor in pusher configuration.
The specification, however, would not be one easily won - no less than five rival companies
submitted competing designs.
These included the Bréguet 610, Gourdou-Leseurre GL-820
HY, Levasseur PL.200 and Potez CAMS 120, all of which were united primarily by having extremely
unusual designs, and also by having virtually no success.
The 130 - although its hard to believe by looking at it - was the most conservative
of the proposed aircraft, and was ultimately considered the best of the batch.
Development was relatively speedy, and by late 1934 the first prototype was complete
and prepared for its flight trials.
It made its first flight on the 19th of November at Saint Nazaire, and it immediately showed
promise.
The prototype’s performance exceeded the requirements set out by the specification:
boasting a top speed of 223 kmh and achieving an altitude of 5860 meters within 45 minutes.
It was reported to perform well both on the water and in the air, and the only major complaint
was that the engine radiator had a tendency to leak.
Following some minor tweaks to the design to address this, the prototype was sent off
for catapult trials a year later in November 1935, where here, too, it performed better
than expected.
A series of catapult launches were made from the seaplane carrier Commandant Teste in Saint-Mandrier
bay; all of these were completed without incident, and in January the prototype went back to
Nazaire for more tests on various other catapult systems.
The testing phase of the prototype was extensive, perhaps too extensive as it went on for about
3 years, which delayed the type’s entry into service.
But by the middle of 1936 the French Navy was happy enough with things to place the
first official order for the aircraft as the Loire 130.
The order put through was for two different variants, 40 of the 130M (Métropole) and
5 of the 130C (Colonial).
The Métropole version was essentially the original design for home use by the Navy in
France and around Europe, whilst the C variant was altered to suit Colonial duties in North
Africa and East Asia, featuring reinforced construction for improved ruggedness and an
enlarged radiator for operating in hotter, tropical climates.
Production for both versions of the 130 began in August of 1936, and this initial production
batch was quickly expanded by further orders.
10 more aircraft were ordered before the end of the year; this was followed by a contract
for 20 more in 1937, and another 19 or 21 in 1938 (sources conflict on the number).
Despite entering production a little later than hoped, the 130 would prove to be a good
upgrade for French Warships.
In standard operations, the aircraft would be crewed by three - a pilot, nose gunner/flight
engineer, and dorsal gunner, though if used for transport duties a further four people
could fit inside the fuselage.
Forward of the cockpit was the first gunner position, operating out of a hatch which could
be closed when not in use.
This position, along with that of the dorsal gunner, would house a 7.5mm Darne machine
gun.
The dorsal gunner did not have an enviable job, this was because they sat slightly below
and behind the 130s three-blade propeller.
This, combined with the large tail unit of the 130, meant that they often had to operate
the machine gun at angles that exposed at least one side of their face to the unpleasant
forces of prop-wash.
The propeller was driven a Hispano-Suiza 12Xbrs, a 12-cylinder V engine which produced 720hp.
This particular engine did not see much use due to its relatively low power output, but
it was enough to give the production 130 a top speed of 230 km/h and allow cruise speeds
of around 160 kmh.
Two wing racks on the inboard section of each wing could hold up to two 75kg anti-submarine
grenades or G-2 bombs.
Not a huge payload but adequate for a reconnaissance seaplane of its type.
A far more important consideration was range.
With an endurance of almost eight hours and a range of over 1,000km, the Loire 130 did
have a longer flight time than comparable ship-launched reconnaissance planes such as
the Aichi E13A or the Arado Ar 196, both of which saw significant use in the second world
war.
Speaking of use, The first Loire 130s entered service near the end of 1937.
French capital ships were the first to receive them, with the Battleship Dunkerque receiving
the second production 130 in December, and this was then followed by the seaplane carrier
Commandant Teste.
In the following years at least twenty cruisers and capital ships would receive the 130, and
by January 1939 at least 50 130M aircraft were operating in French service – most
of them within the fleet.
In its Colonial variant, the Loire 130 served within the squadrons 8S2 (in Fort-de-France),
8S3 (in Dakar) and 8S4 (in Tripoli).
The aircraft even served so far as French Indochina, eight examples equipping squadron
1/CBS which was based there.
As the 130 entered service almost a year behind schedule, its short life before the war in
Europe began consisted almost solely of training up the air crews.
At the outbreak of war, a further order for the aircraft was placed, but of course not
all of these would be delivered before the capitulation the following year.
Still, for an aircraft produced in relatively small numbers, it would have an active service
life.
Following the German invasion it was used for both reconnaissance and anti-submarine
duties, but it would not be until after the armistice between France and Germany that
things got interesting.
The 130 would be operated by both the Vichy French government, and Free French forces
-albeit the latter would only operate it in small numbers.
It would also technically be on the books of the Luftwaffe, but this only amounted to
a single aircraft that was evaluated for use in air-sea rescue.
The 130s in Vichy service saw use in a variety of far-flung theatres; in 1940 they were operational
in Syria, Northern Africa, and the Far East.
130s saw service in the defence of Dakar during the Franco-English invasion attempt, and in
early 1941, numerous Loire 130s participated in the conflict with Thailand.
Additionally, by 1942, almost all the major ships of the French fleet were finally equipped
with the type.
In fleet service they were used to carry out missions of reconnaissance, observation, artillery
spotting, coastal surveillance and escort of convoys, as well as liaison flights.
In a nutshell, they were kept very busy.
When Germany occupied the rest of France in 1942 things got a bit more confusing, a majority
of the aircraft were given over to the Italians, but they appeared to have found no use for
them and many were eventually scrapped.
Others were destroyed in the chaos.
And Some Loire 130s were carried over to the allies via various plans of escape.
Indeed, one of the few unresolved losses of a 130 came from one of these attempts.
This event occurred well before the chaos of 1942; on the 15th October 1940, two Loire
130s with French crews defected from Bizerta, Northern Tunisia, and attempted to fly to
the British seabase at Malta.
One of the aircraft, piloted by Sergeant George Blaize, successfully completed the trip and
landed - though the other half of the duo had mysteriously disappeared.
Reportedly, on the trip the two seaplanes had run into thick cloud, that had resulted
in them being separated, Blaize deciding to continue onwards and hope they would meet
at the destination.
It was thought that the other 130 missed Malta and may have landed in the sea, or it might
have been intercepted by enemy aircraft.
Either way, its loss is still a mystery.
At least twenty Loire 130s were lost in service, a considerable number for a small production
run, and enough of these losses were due to accidents for it to earn a reputation for
being somewhat fragile.
The strict requirements on size and weight meant that the airframe could only be reinforced
by so much, and an unhappy consequence of this was a tendency for said airframe to literally
break in half when under heavy stress.
This often happened during landing in moderate seas, where the waves would sometimes be enough
to compromise the engine mounts, or even damage the hull; but it also happened during catapulting.
The first time this happened actually occurred before the outbreak of war, when a 130 aboard
the Dunkerque broke in half whilst be launched, an event that was repeated at least two more
times before the end of 1939.
Still, despite this, and considering they had an active service life, at least a dozen
of the aircraft actually survived until the end of the war.
The last Loire 130 in active service was used by 8S Squadron in Cat-Lai, which operated
their aircraft as late as 1950 before finally retiring it and sending it away for scrap.
This unfortunately means that there are no surviving Loire 130s today.
This small, aesthetically striking aircraft was not a huge performer in any real metric,
but it was reliable, simple to produce and well-liked among its crews - operating from
the English channel to Indonesia.
It was also part of a relatively brief design philosophy: the ship-launched reconnaissance
seaplane.
This was a role that would soon be replaced by a combination of long-range radar and helicopters;
but it lasted long enough for us to see some truly interesting aircraft leave the design
board, the Loire 130 being among them.
As always, thank you all so much for watching and a big thank you of course to the patrons,
who’s names you’ll see here.
This video is probably going up four or five days late, owing to some fairly catastrophic
problems – mostly caused by human error – so apologies for that.
A big thank you of course to our wing commander patrons, our highest tier members, and a heads
up to everyone that the video schedule for the next two months may be a bit slower than
usual.
I plan to be away for at least two weeks in April to visit my partner, and I’m also
working on some fairly major long-term projects that are taking up a lot of my time, so there
probably won’t be many mid-week uploads, just the weekend ones.
Anyway, that’s enough waffling from me, thank you all for your continued support,
and I’ll catch you all next time.
Goodbye.