Skipping the Paint Shop

As I walked through the production department the other day, I was a little taken aback by some of the photos I saw of BJT's February/ March 2015 cover subject. Filmmaker Francis Ford Coppola was standing in front of a bare-aluminum airplane, which at first I assumed had to be some sort of restored vintage classic. I was surprised to hear it was his very own Daher-Socata TBM 850, a decidedly modern, sophisticated turboprop single. Yes, the airplane’s exterior had painted trim elements in shades of gray and black that made for a compellingly tasteful design. But most of the TBM’s sheet metal was completely bare.

I started to put the pieces together, remembering that I had seen the airplane at the National Business Aviation Association convention last year. But I had assumed then that it was a special company-owned display model, not meant for day-to-day flying. With the exception of some restored World War II-era and retro-vintage light models owned by collectors, no one flies unpainted aircraft anymore, right?

Apparently, wrong. 

Granted, Coppola’s TBM is an anomaly among current aircraft, nearly all of which are painted. And in the early era of flight, airplanes were also painted or, more accurately, “doped.” Almost all early aircraft, starting with the Wright Flyer, used fabric covering, at least on their wings. The fabric was applied by stretching it as tightly as possible over the structure, then painting on layer after layer of a clear lacquer concoction known as “dope” to make it shrink. The airplanes’ fuselages were covered in the same way. And since the dope stain looked ugly, pigment was added to provide a paint-like appearance.

But when manufacturers started building all-metal airplanes, the need for coating was eliminated. So most early metal aircraft, like early humans, went naked. Since they used aluminum, which is much less susceptible to rust than steel, these airplanes were not particularly vulnerable to the elements. Over time, however, corrosion did become an issue, particularly in coastal areas where the air had a high salt content. And keeping all that aluminum shiny was a lot of work. So painted airplanes became the norm.

For decades, one exception to that rule was American Airlines. Its aircraft were, literally, shining examples of traditionalist décor. Starting with its fleet of Douglas DC-3s in the 1930s, American kept its airliners in bare polished aluminum, with the classic art-deco blue and orange accent striping melding into the American eagle logo.

When Coppola asked for a paint-free airplane, it wasn’t as simple for Daher-Socata as just skipping the paint shop. The manufacturer wasn’t going to release an unpainted aircraft before carrying out a long test process to explore all the implications of operating it in today’s environment. And once the company was certain there would be no unintended consequences, it had to invest more than 250 man-hours to strip green undercoat paint from Coppola’s airplane, since today’s aircraft are assembled with much of their green anti-corrosion paint already applied. Then came the long process of adding polishing compounds to bring out the aluminum’s luster and protect its structural integrity. 

One positive aspect of the project is that Coppola’s TBM is 100 pounds lighter without a coat of paint. That’s enough to make room for at least a couple of cases of the filmmaker’s favorite wines.

Mark Phelps is a managing editor at BJT sister publication Aviation International News.