Known to some as the Harley Davidson of the sky, the de Havilland Beaver’s squat-nosed appearance has a rugged handsomeness.
With its pug-nosed fuselage and no-nonsense radial engine, this is a go-anywhere machine. In fact, unlike the majority of fixed-wing aircraft, the Beaver can get out of pretty much any situation it can get itself into.
The preferred choice of nearly all bush pilots, Beavers have been flown to small mountain lakes, glaciers, and remote beaches. They’ve carried torpedoes and delivered parts to stranded boats. They’ve been used as crop dusters, passenger caravans, and sightseeing apparatuses. You think of it, a Beaver can probably do it.
https://kenmoreair.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/de-Havilland-Beavers-docked-in-Desolation-Sound.jpg380720Mikaela Juddhttps://kenmoreair.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/logo_kenmoreair_main.svgMikaela Judd2023-08-16 00:00:002023-09-05 13:29:58The Origins of the de Havilland Beaver
To most of us, flying is simply a fast and efficient way of getting from here to there. But it can be so much more. Accelerating across the water at the point of a sparkling vee of spray, lifting off to look down through big windows at the shining towers of a city beside a deepwater bay, skimming close over a jigsaw puzzle of islands and inlets, soaring around the ice-draped peaks and looming volcanoes that make up some of the most impressive mountains on the planet… Now that’s flying.
That this remarkable experience can be had by simply buying a ticket on Kenmore Air is due entirely to a single gust of wind which shortly before the outbreak of World War II flipped over a tiny, two-seat Aeronca floatplane on Seattle’s Lake Union. Seattle seaplane pioneer Lana Kurtzer salvaged the plane, stacked the pieces behind his shop and forgot about it until 1944 when a pair of young Navy Reserve aviation mechanics asked if he’d be willing to sell it.
https://kenmoreair.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/75_years_of_doing_the_right_thing.jpg380720C. Marin Faurehttps://kenmoreair.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/logo_kenmoreair_main.svgC. Marin Faure2021-07-11 00:00:002022-10-12 12:33:4075 Years of Doing it Right
How an iconic seaplane and observation tower came to define the Pacific Northwest experience.
It was 1960, and the morning mist was still rising off of Lake Washington as Howard H. Wright climbed into the yellow and white Cessna 180 seaplane patiently bobbing alongside the wooden dock with pilot Bob Munro. The short flight to the San Juan Islands, about 60 nautical miles northwest of Kenmore’s Air Harbor, was the first intersection of two Seattle families that would go on to shape, and sometimes define the Pacific Northwest experience.
In fact, flying above the Puget Sound today in a Kenmore Air seaplane is still the best vantage to understand how these two families, the Wrights and the Munros, influenced the Pacific Northwest — and how their descendants are still doing it today.
Laying the Foundation
Howard Wright owned a construction company that helped build the Grand Coulee Dam on the eastern side of the state in the years before World War II. Industry and population growth in the region was fueled by its construction, as were the wartime industries located in the Northwest.
The seaplane company, whose services Wright hired on his inaugural 1960 flight, was started by three friends who reunited after World War II to put their flying and mechanical engineering skills to new use.
Wright played his own part in the fate of the region when he and a group of men thought that visitors of the soon-to-be-held 1962 World’s Fair needed something remarkable to remember their visit to Seattle. His company would build one of the country’s most iconic structures: the Space Needle — a symbol for the Century 21 Exposition and America’s commitment to the space race.
Getting Started in Seattle
Four generations of Wrights have left their mark on the Pacific Northwest since the family arrived in Seattle. Howard H. Wright, whose weekly flights with Kenmore Air brought him to the beautiful San Juan Islands, was from the second generation. In the Great Depression, the family had moved to Seattle and built an apartment building on Capitol Hill, a central neighborhood now frequented for its buzzy bars and highly rated restaurants. It was one of the first projects that he and his father took on together in the city.
Those regular flights to and from the San Juans in the ’60s made him a Kenmore Air regular. Kenmore Air had developed a reputation for safety, customer service, and reliability that was unmatched and grew over the decades. Similarly, the Wrights’ construction company continued to grow. By the 1980s when the company was sold by the Wright family, the firm was one of the largest in Washington, where a series of high-profile projects had brought the company from humble beginnings as a builder to a developer of the high rise cityscape.
Foremost among those achievements was the Space Needle.
Photo by Alex Mertz
For Wright and his son, the Century 21 Exposition was an opportunity to introduce the Pacific Northwest to the wider world and, in doing so, write a new chapter in America’s history. The 1962 World’s Fair would be held just north of Seattle’s downtown core, at the southern foot of Queen Anne Hill. To its west lay Elliott Bay and the shores of the Puget Sound. To its east was Lake Union, where Kenmore Air would eventually expand.
At the time of its construction, beginning in the early ’60s, the world was under the shadow of the Cold War. A small group of developers that included the Wrights had dreams of creating a landmark that the world would remember as the symbol of the exposition. They hoped to place their creation alongside the Eiffel Tower and the Chicago Ferris Wheel, as structures that inspired generations to dream of the possibilities the future would bring.
The company, founded years earlier by the elder Wright as a small builder before moving to Seattle, had already made a name for itself when plans for the World’s Fair began. The risk they took in taking on this project paid off, though, and the Space Needle became an instant hit.
Postcards featuring the Space Needle made their way to mailboxes around the world. They still continue today, with one distinct addition — the unmistakable Kenmore Air seaplane, caught mid-flight, usually in the foreground of the Space Needle.
Taking off from Lake Washington
Bob Munro, Reg Collins, and Jack Mines, had no idea what Kenmore Air would become when they founded the company in 1946 at the edge of a bog in the northern corner of Lake Washington.
The three friends had simply reunited after World War II with an idea to create a seaplane business in the Pacific Northwest. With one plane and a hangar, they started making repairs and chartered flights from the then-sleepy shores of Lake Washington. They also started selling Seabees, another photogenic seaplane which, under the skillful flying of Munro and others, would make daring glacial landings while in Kenmore Air’s fleet.
Though based just outside Seattle, Kenmore Air grew up alongside the Northwest’s largest city and earned a reputation for hard work and safe flying. While Howard S. Wright Construction Company was at work getting the city ready for the Century 21 Exposition, Kenmore Air was expanding their Air Harbor on Lake Washington.
In 1959, Bob Munro announced that Air Harbor was in a position to begin construction on a new office and shop building, built near the original hangar. Chartered flights would increase over the next few decades. During that time, the cities surrounding Seattle also grew, including Kenmore. The sleepy towns on the edge of the lake were getting busier, industries were growing, and flight service expanded.
In the ’50s, Kenmore Air had also started flights to the San Juan Islands. The short flight from Air Harbor was exactly what the community was looking for when they wanted to connect with the seemingly far-flung outposts of the San Juan islands and beyond.
The ’60s and ’70s were challenging times in the Pacific Northwest. In 1971, a famous billboard asked, “Will the last person leaving Seattle turn off the lights?” Still, Kenmore Air and the Wrights soldiered on, and the city bounced back.
In the ’80s, Kenmore made another expansion, this time towards the waterfront just a couple miles from the former site of the Century 21 Exposition, the Seattle World’s Fair. The company was growing, and room was to be made for expanded operations, including a seaplane terminal on Seattle’s Lake Union. They purchased the land of a competitor and opened the terminal at 950 Westlake Ave N, where Beavers, Otters and Caravans now take off and land beneath the backdrop of the Space Needle.
Reaching New Heights
In 2018, a new relationship between Kenmore Air and the grandson of Howard H. Wright took root when Seattle Hospitality Group invested in Kenmore Air.
Howard Wright by Mandy Mohler of Field Guide Designs
Seattle Hospitality Group was founded in 2002 by H.S. Wright III, a grandson of the men whose company shaped much of Seattle’s modern-day skyline and whose weekly flights introduced him to what would become the largest seaplane operator in the world.
As his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather did before him, this Wright also takes a personal interest in businesses that would enhance the city’s ethos of arts and culture. In the years since building the Space Needle, the construction business also built the Columbia Tower, the tallest building in the state. Though the construction business has since been sold and its headquarters moved, the company retains its original name.
For visitors to the Pacific Northwest, stops at the Space Needle and seaplane flights with Kenmore Air often top their travel lists. The history of the region is intrinsically tied to these two icons, and longtime residents will often conjure the very image of the Beaver flying over Lake Union with the Olympic Mountains in the background as the perfect shot to describe the Pacific Northwest.
The partnership established in 2018 between Seattle Hospitality Group and Kenmore Air is the result of a decades-long relationship between two companies and the families that shaped the Pacific Northwest.
For more than 70 years, two family-owned companies shaped the Seattle skyline and filled the sky. Their buildings and planes captured imaginations and inspired people to look up and dream higher. That legacy continues today as old partners discover new possibilities.
You have a good chance of seeing Sarah at any one of Kenmore Air’s three Seattle terminals. As the Operations Manager, she oversees all aspects of each location. And every location benefits from her guidance and leadership.
At the end of the day, whether Steve Bjorling has flown to the northern tip of Vancouver Island or the quaint dock at Roche Harbor, he’s put a smile on someone’s face. That’s what keeps this former police officer passionate about flying year-after-year.
It’s said, one of the secrets to happiness is making your vocation your avocation. For Ken VanWinkle, Director of Operations and Pilot at Kenmore Air Express, this couldn’t be truer. Flying is more than Ken’s job — it’s his passion.
An iconic fixture of the Seattle skyline, seaplanes have been landing and taking off from Lake Union since 1914.
Adventure beats through the veins of Seattle like the sound of a piston Beaver ripples across Lake Union. The call of the mountains, the beckoning of the San Juans, and the roar of the Alaskan wilderness makes those in the Emerald City natural born explorers.
For more than 100 years, Seattle seaplane pilots have been answering that call from the tranquil waters of Seattle’s downtown lake. They still do today.
Initial Flight From Lake Union
The lake welcomed its first seaplane in 1914. Hired to fly exhibition flights over the city, Silas Christofferson displayed the military value of an aircraft. The initial flight was a leisurely cruise, during which Christofferson took Seattle Mayor Hiram Gill (1866-1919) on his first plane ride.
From there, Christofferson’s flights took a daring turn. He flew by night with roman candles attached to the underside of his plane. And, he flour bombed the city with 21 three-ounce flour sacks.
The plane was nicknamed Bluebill. It made its initial flight in June of 1916 with Boeing holding the controls. By November, Mallard (Bluebill’s brother) had been completed. Both seaplanes called the Roanoke hangar home until they were sold to New Zealand in 1918.
March 3, 1919, Lake Union became the first international airmail destination in the United States. Flying a Boeing C-700 seaplane, Eddie Hubbard and Bill Boeing carried 60 letters over the border from Vancouver, British Columbia to Seattle.
Following the initial flight, Hubbard purchased a Boeing B-1 seaplane. He began regular delivery between Seattle and Victoria, British Columbia. Over the following eight years, Hubbard flew more than 350,000 miles between the two cities.
The B-1 returned to Lake Union in 2012 when the Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI) relocated to the former Naval Reserve Armory. Located at the southern-most tip of Lake Union, the B-1 is now suspended from the lofty ceilings as though primed to land.
South Lake Union’s Seaplane Base Established
In 1931, Lana Kurtzer relocated his business, Kurtzer Flying Service, to the southern side of South Lake Union. (Eventually, he renamed the business Kurtzen Marine and Flying Service School.) Kurtzer Flying Service was initially located at Terry Avenue North and Valley Street. The business was housed in a hangar that had originally been stationed at Pier 3 on the Elliott Bay waterfront.
Ed Davies and Steve Ellis reported in Seattle’s Commercial Aviation 1908-1941 that the hangar had been towed through the locks by Vern Gorst and was eventually purchased by Kurtzer.
Kurtzer’s flying school was among the largest in the country. He trained thousands of pilots and provided transportation to remote destinations.
Following Kurtzer’s death, the terminal was purchased by Lake Union Air. A mainstay in the seaplane community, Lake Union Air operated from 950 Westlake until it was acquired by Kenmore Air in 1933.
Seaplanes on Lake Union Today
Today, seaplanes remain a vital part of our city’s unique character. Sharing the water with boaters and kayakers, skilled seaplane pilots take off and land from on Lake Union daily. Seattle Scenic Tours offer once-in-a-lifetime views. International flights to Victoria and the B.C. Islands allow for easy border crossing. And, quick trips to the San Juan Islands let visitors and residents get out of town in just 45 minutes.
The two most common seaplanes you’ll see on the lake are the six-passenger de Havilland Beaver and the 10-passenger de Havilland Otter. Pilots choose their landing zones based on a variety of factors, including wind and water obstructions. However, mid-day you’ll often find them approaching from the south after they’ve passed the Space Needle – creating the iconic skyline view we’ve come to love.
It wasn’t the first seaplane Kenmore Air ever purchased. It wasn’t even the first de Havilland Beaver. But Six-Six-Zulu is definitely the best-loved member of Kenmore’s fleet.
https://kenmoreair.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/lake-union-black-white.jpg380750Mikaela Juddhttps://kenmoreair.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/logo_kenmoreair_main.svgMikaela Judd2017-09-06 00:00:002017-09-06 00:00:00History of Seaplanes on Lake Union
At the corner of Bothell Way and 73rd, where traffic is common and horns often honk, Gaul Culley and Staci Adman are adding the finishing touches to the Kenmore Mural.
The two artists are on a tight schedule. The official ribbon cutting ceremony is scheduled for September 5 from 11 AM – 2 PM.
Spanning 188 feet, the mural pays tribute to Kenmore’s rich and eclectic history.
“There were definitely parts of the city’s history some people didn’t want showcased, but it was really important to us to tell the true story – the story of a place where everyone was accepted,” Gaul told me on day 80 of active painting.
At the time of our interview, more than 5,000 man hours had been poured into the project. From time-to-time, volunteers joined the ladies – including the mayor and his wife. But mostly, it was just Staci and Gaul armed with their brushes and their wit.
While these two definitely take their art seriously, they are quick to have fun. It shows in their bright color palette, their use of Northwest inspired realism, and their sense of imagination. If you watch long enough, you might even catch one of them pretending to pluck an ice cream cone from the wall.
Designed specifically to be viewed from the street, the mural features large blocks of color and images that are scaled draw the eye upward and forward. The design causes the viewing experience to change drastically based on your perspective. Pedestrians walking beside the mural are treated to small details such as a portrait here and the furry rump of a deer there. Passengers driving past enjoy a flip-book-esc view as images blend into a story. Even from the air, the mural catches your eye with bold shapes.
Among their favorite pieces is the image of a Native American woman. “For me, she not only pays homage to those who were here first, she is a representation of how this project is a collaboration. Gaul did the body and the portrait. I did the basket and the headdress. It just means a lot to me,” Staci told me.
Gaul also pointed to the shopping cart, located near the center of the mural. Like a modern day cornucopia, it honors those within the community whose homes might be on four wheels. “It makes you consider, ‘What would you put in your shopping cart?’ And that’s really important as we think about and include every member of our community,” Gaul explained.
What’s my favorite part? The Kenmore Air seaplane of course! (I might be biased.) You’ll find it located on the east end of the mural with a wingspan stretching nearly 18 feet!
Were pieces of Kenmore’s history left out? Undoubtedly, yes. For example, the city had a single jail cell in its early days. “If we’d known about it from the beginning, I’d have put Gaul inside,” Staci said.
But for the most part, the year of research and collaboration the women poured into the mural has culminated in a comprehensive – and undeniably beautiful – addition to Kenmore’s landscape.
https://kenmoreair.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/Kenmore_Mural_featuring_a_Kenmore_Air_seaplane.jpg380750Mikaela Juddhttps://kenmoreair.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/03/logo_kenmoreair_main.svgMikaela Judd2016-08-19 00:00:002016-08-19 00:00:00Kenmore Mural – A Beautiful Tribute to the City’s Rich History
It wasn’t the first seaplane Kenmore Air ever purchased. It wasn’t even the first de Havilland Beaver. But Six-Six-Zulu is definitely the best-loved member of Kenmore’s fleet.
A fixed wing single-engine beauty, she came off the line in 1953. Her early years were spent with the United States Air Force. She flew with six different units including the 6600th Air Department AMO (Air Material Overseas Unit). This was an especially appropriate beginning for a plane that would one day haul Navy torpedoes and land on remote glaciers.
Torpedo Hauling Purchased in 1967, Six-Six-Zulu arrived at Kenmore on wheels. In those days, this was common. Most Beavers were coming from Military and Air Force bases.
Stripping Six-Six-Zulu of her hardtop landing equipment, Kenmore installed floats and a little something special she’d need for her first assignment. Joining Kenmore’s original Beaver, Six-Four-Zulu, she began transporting Navy test torpedoes.
In the ’60s, the Navy was testing torpedoes at a firing range in Canada. Once fired, the torpedoes needed to be collected and transported to the Keyport Navy Base for analysis. Prior to Kenmore’s help, the torpedoes’ trek was typically a two-day affair – including nearly three hundred miles of road, two ferry rides, and a border crossing.
The Beaver’s task was seemingly simple. Retrieve and deliver quickly. The practicality of carrying the heavy and awkward torpedoes was a different story.
Bob Munro, one of Kenmore’s founders, saw a solution. He’d mounted dozens of rowboats and canoes aboard the float struts of various seaplanes. He didn’t see any reason not to do the same with torpedoes.
In order to carry the torpedoes, she was equipped with a pair of racks designed by Munro; Bill Peters, Kenmore’s fabrication genius; and Navy personnel. A special crane designed to fit around the edge of the Beavers’ wings was used to heave the heavy and awkward shells. But the payoff was worth it. The Beavers cut the two-day transport to a couple of hours.
The Bond Between a Plane & Her Pilot Six-Six-Zulu was much more than a test weapon transport. She formed a special bond with Munro. While she’d take a spin with other pilots from time to time, her almost exclusive relationship with Munro was well known among the Kenmore staff. If Munro was scheduled for a Beaver flight, he and Six-Six-Zulu would be spending the day together.
[Munro] knew every one of [Six-Six-Zulu’s] quirks and how it would handle in virtually any situation. The engine and flight instruments in the panel simply confirmed what he felt through the seat, saw out the windshield, and heard in the rush of air past the fuselage and in the thunder of the engine (341).
It was a relationship that served them both well.
Glacier Landings Just a year after flexing her carrying capabilities, Munro asked Six-Six-Zulu to test her durability and dexterity.
Research scientist Mark Meier was studying South Cascade, a small glacier just 75-miles northeast of Seattle. At the time, South Cascade was just two miles long and half a mile wide. Compared to the other cliff-hanging monstrosities nearby, it was a pussycat. Its mild slopes provided a relatively easy to traverse terrain. It was getting there that posed some problems.
The small glacier was surrounded by rows of razorback ridges. The eastern wall of its narrow, north-south valley was dominated by Mt. LeConte and Sentinel Peak. South of the glacier, a pyramid of rock towers, known as The Lizard, topped out at 7,339 feet. At the glacier’s foot, a lake bent around the base of a ridge, escaping down a tiny stream.
The hike in was treacherous, especially for scientists lugging heavy and awkward cases of delicate instruments. Supporting the project by air was a logical choice. It was logical, except for the fact that the carrying capabilities of a helicopter were limited and arriving by seaplane was considered downright crazy.
Meier called every seaplane owner in Seattle to see if they’d make the trip. By the time he called Kenmore, he was used to hearing, “No.”
It took a lot of careful planning and an immense amount of skill, but Munro and Six-Six-Zulu made it to the glacier. During the first flights, they landed on the lake at the base of the glacier. But when the lake froze over, Munro was not deterred.
“I’ll come in over the lake and then head right up the glacier. I’ll touch down where the surface is pretty level,” Munro reasoned.
And that’s just what he did. Munro flew Six-Six-Zulu onto the snow-covered ice, delivering vital supplies and picking up the collected samples.
The Kenmore Restoration At 60-plus, many a working stiff would at least be talking about retirement. Six-Six-Zulu is still an active member of Kenmore’s fleet. And, she will be for years to come. That’s the beauty of de Havilland Beavers and the Kenmore restoration program.
While the last Beaver came off the line in 1967, like-new Beavers are coming out of the Kenmore Air maintenance shop on a regular basis.
Kenmore’s world-renowned maintenance crew has earned an impeccable reputation among aviation enthusiasts. Their overhauled Beavers are often referred to as “Kenmore Beavers.”
The nickname is duly earned. The hundreds of modifications developed by Kenmore over the years have not only improved performance and customer satisfaction, but helped equip the planes to handle changing technologies.
Six-Six-Zulu alone has undergone 55 separate modifications. More than once she’s gone into the machine shop for a complete overhaul and restored. Tearing a plane like Six-Six-Zulu apart and putting her back together like new is no small undertaking.
During her 1999 restoration, nearly 7,700 new parts were installed. The process took almost 1,963 hours. If it had been a one-man job, it would have taken a mechanic practically a full year to complete.
She is old to be sure. But she’s in great shape and Kenmore’s going to make sure she stays that way.
Facts & Figures Tail Number: N9766Z Manufacture’s Serial Number: 504 L-20 Serial Number: 1283 U.S. Military Registration Number: 52-6121 Gross Weight: 5,600 pounds (Fully fueled + max carrying capacity) Useful Load: 2,016.7 pounds (Available weight for fuel, passengers & baggage) Tank: 828 Pounds
