32 | AUGUST 2019 FLYINGMAG.COMBut the siren call of jets eventually became
overpowering, as it does for so many others, and I spent
the next few decades f lying high and fast. Kerry Richter—
head of engineering, research and development for
Progressive Aerodyne, the company that produces the
Searey light-sport amphibious aircraft—says I’m not
alone: “Our customers include lots of ATP-rated pilots
who want to get back to basics.” Richter’s company builds
the Searey Adventure and Elite seaplane models.
Across the country in Vacaville, California, is Icon
Aircraft, maker of the sleek A5—another amphibian that,
while similar to the Searey, is a very different machine. But
both have the same mission: to provide their pilot’s with
unforgettable memories splashing in and out the water—a
form of flying that is pretty near aviation nirvana in the
minds of many adventure-seeking pilots.
A few years ago, my friend Matt and I coordinated a
seaplane-training weekend to return to our roots. One
Friday morning, we headed northeast from Chicago toward
Traverse City, Michigan, and Traverse Air. After two days of
training and about $1,700 out of pocket each, we both headed
back to Chicago with fresh temporary airman certificates
proclaiming we were rated for Airplane Single-Engine Sea.
Being an aquaphobic kind of guy—sorry, I can’t even
swim—I knew nothing about boats when we arrived in
TVC, but I was intrigued by the thought of low and slow on
the water, not to mention a fresh aviation education. Our
instructor, Tom Brady, got me comfortable pretty quickly
with terms like bilge pump and buoyancy, as well as how to
deal with currents and plowing and step taxiing. And most
important: Once you start the engine on a seaplane unteth-
ered from the dock, the airplane starts moving. I promptly
realized jamming the tops of the rudder pedals is pointless
because seaplanes don’t have brakes. There’s only a water
rudder for some help.Matt and I took turns training in
a Piper PA-18 Super Cub on f loats.
During my first takeoff, I pushed in
the throttle of the old Cub and felt the
tail end of the f loats sink lower into
the water although I had no idea why.
I immediately felt the increased water
resistance against the f loats, but I’d
been taught to keep the stick back
until the Cub gained some speed. That
mistake didn’t take long to correct.
I eased off just a bit on the stick, and
I felt the Cub reward me by almost
leaping ahead now that it had shed
some of the water’s resistance. Soon,
we were skimming lightly across the
surface like a f lat stone precisely
thrown from shore. I later realized
I never really looked at the airspeed
indicator at all; with a tiny bit of back
pressure on the stick, the Cub left the
water. The entire takeoff took no more
than 10 or 15 seconds.A FUN AND INTERESTING ADD-ON
With the advent of light-sport air-
craft and the Light Sport Pilot cer-
tificate, how a pilot earns the right toAD
VE
NT
UR
ES
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N
TH
E
W
AT
ER
Above: Icon added
a Seawing just
above the A5's
main gear for
added stability on
the water.
Opposite: The
rugged Searey
Elite handles
nicely, even on
rough water.
lying low and slow
seemed normal to me
in my early flying career,
having been lucky
enough at 25 to own my
own Aeronca Champ.
The little taildragger—“a bag of rags,”
one of my buddies called it—allowed
me to enjoy the world from “just above”
while flying along at a blistering 95 mph.