The Executive Jet

As soon as the whine of the Boeing 707's four jet engines stops, the door opens and a man hurries down the steps, followed by a cluster of aides. They cross the ramp, still damp from a late-afternoon Washington shower, and enter a waiting helicopter. Lifted by whapping blades into the darkening skies over Andrews Air Force Base, the chopper heads northwest to land at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Air Force One (any Service (text continued on page 129) aircraft in which the President is a passenger is given the designation One) is, of course, the world's best-known executive jet. It is office, bedroom, communications center and magic carpet. What Air Force One is to the President of the United States, more than 1000 other jets are—in varying degrees—to company executives, entertainers, high-level salesmen and engineers: They offer their owners increased maneuverability, expanded corporate horizons and greater opportunity for either in-transit work or relaxation between high-pressure appointments. The most famous privately owned jet—Hugh Hefner's DC-9-32—has enabled its proprietor and his staff of Playboy executives to scout new resort sites, whisk celebrities from one coast to the other for Playboy Club or television appearances and even embark (continued on page 208)Executive Jet(continued from page 129) on an African safari in total comfort and convenience, all the while maintaining constant communication with headquarters in Chicago.

The private jet's unique ability to transport valuable talent with minimal fuss and delay has proved an incalculable asset to many firms. "Our Jet Commander," says the management of Harrah's club at Reno, "is frequently the deciding factor in booking an artist when time is at a premium." With the club's jet, the indefatigable Jerry Lewis was able to honor an important commitment in Los Angeles and return the same day to Harrah's for the first evening show.

Although the use of the private airplane in business precedes Lindbergh's coaxing of the Spirit of St. Louis from the mud of Long Island to the mob at Le Bourget, it is the executive jet that has given world-wide mobility to the big men of big business. The jet cuts to hours not only travel time but work that used to require days or weeks. A typical flight log of a business jet is listed by the executives of Oregon's Riviera Motors. As a distributor for Volkswagen, Riviera has 70 dealers in five northwestern states, including Alaska. Leaving Portland, the Jet Commander sped to Annette Island, Ketchikan and then to Juneau. In two hours and 45 minutes, the team flew 1600 miles the first day, with time for two business meetings. The second day, three business meetings were held—at Kodiak Island, Fairbanks and Anchorage. It took only three hours and 15 minutes to traverse the 1600 miles. Two more stops were made in Alaska and the team was back in Portland on the evening of the third day. The jet covered more than 5000 miles of territory in ten hours and 25 minutes. Before the company acquired its own jet, the same trip required nearly two weeks of grueling travel by commercial airline.

This kind of saving not only makes the executive more productive but drastically reduces travel costs. One company that frequently requires a team of Manhattan home-office execs at one of its plants in a Midwestern state figures the jet saves more than $1600 every trip on lodging, meals and executive time than if they had traveled by scheduled carriers. Some of the productive work of the bizjet, however, can't be measured by a price tag. For example, a business jet once helped to put a sports car on the starting grid at Sebring. The car, which had won the German and Canadian Grands Prix, was being transported by van from Dallas to compete in the Florida event. Near Atlanta, the van whipped off a drive shaft. It was a holiday, and finding the parts locally was impossible; but time trials were to begin the following morning. The car's owners were able to locate a truck dealer in Enid, Oklahoma, who took the drive shaft from a new model. The required parts were loaded aboard an executive jet at six P.M. and, by ten o'clock that holiday evening, the van was on the road again, taking its precious cargo to Sebring.

Unheralded but frequent missions of the business jet are mercy flights contributed by the owners. One such flight involved a badly burned 11-year-old boy. The owners of a business jet were contacted shortly before noon by a member of the Shrine Temple in Reno seeking assistance in getting the boy to Galveston, where the Shriners support a special burn-care hospital. The jet was in Portland, Oregon, picking up company personnel. It was directed to Reno. By early evening, it had deposited both the boy and his doctor in a waiting ambulance at the Galveston airport.

In a lighter vein—though a matter of some import to animal lovers—was the gorilla airlift via Hefner's Big Bunny last July. Pining away in the Phoenix Zoo was a recently widowed female gorilla, Hazel. The most eligible simian suitor, 18-year-old Jack, was three quarters of a continent away, in Baltimore. Officials of the two zoos agreed on Jack's transfer to Phoenix, with hopes that a consummated union would produce a few bouncing babies to swell the diminishing ranks of the species. But no commercial airline would take a chance on hefty (6' 3", 283 pounds) Jack as a passenger, and the stress of slow, overland transportation might prove ruinous to his health—not to mention his romantic instincts. Enter Amanda Blake, a member of the Phoenix Zoological Society, who is just as resourceful offscreen as in her longtime television role as Gunsmoke's Miss Kitty. Miss Blake called Hugh Hefner, requesting the loan of the Big Bunny. Always ready to promote romance, Playboy's chief executive obliged, and a thoroughly tranquilized Jack took over Hefner's personal airborne pad, elliptical bed and all, for a deluxe pre-honeymoon flight from Baltimore to Phoenix that was a first in veterinary science. (At last report, the courtship was progressing slowly but satisfactorily.)

Most business jets, despite their glamorous aura, are pressure cookers that force busy men to do even more—but make it enticingly exciting for them to do it. Time is always at a premium for the man with heavy responsibilities and both time and manpower are in short supply at management level. Top personnel are usually in the 35–55 age bracket and, right now, this age range is decreasing, since fewer babies were born during the Depression years of the Thirties. It is estimated that by 1975 there will be 1,000,000 fewer people in this management-age bracket than there were in 1965. This, coupled with decentralization of business and the increasing numbers of companies, demands greater efficiency and productivity from key company men.

The man who depends on public transportation, while his competition moves with business-jet flexibility, may soon find that he and his company are no longer in the race. Airline flights arehighly centralized and getting more so. Twenty percent of all scheduled flights are from only five service points; more than two thirds of all airline passengers depart from 22 cities; and nearly 100 of the more than 800 domestic airports served by scheduled airlines average less than three scheduled flights a day. By contrast, the executive jet can go into any of several thousand airports, usually many miles closer to the ultimate destination.

This kind of flexibility and speed is why 98 of the top 100 corporations in the U.S. transport their people in their own aircraft. In total, the business fleet numbers over 120,000 planes. The pure jets and jet-props in this fleet number almost as many as are operated by all the scheduled airlines.

When the airlines introduced jets a decade ago, the bizjet quickly followed. The Morane Saulnier 760, a pert import from Fiance, was the first. Although it broadened the horizons of the planes-man, its four-seat configuration severely cramped his style. Consequently, only a couple of these small speedsters ever saw use as business planes. The man on the move needed more than transportation: He required conference-room comfort, office efficiency and some of the amenities of life in order to make getting there a pleasure instead of a chore. It wasn't long before the aircraft manufacturers got the message and brought forth a plethora of models.

Today, over a dozen manufacturers are offering a variety of private planes to match the mood, money and motives of any man who measures his business or social progress by Mach speeds (see Playboy's Guide to Executive Jets on page 212). With such variety, and with price tags ranging from about $600,000 to the $5,000,000 mark, the selection of a machine to fill the needs of management is done only after careful deliberation.

While some bizjet owners, such as Arnold Palmer, are as competent behind the controls as they are at running their far-flung business interests, most business jets are flown by professional crews. The chief pilot usually recommends to his bosses the type of jet best suited for their appointed missions. He will consider such variables as the number of people to be carried on the average flight, the length of trips and a matching of aircraft performance to runway availability at destinations. Often, the needs are highly specialized. Richard Burton is said to be eying the executive version of an airline jet, so he will have more space for carrying his and Elizabeth Taylor's luggage. But occasionally, even the best-laid plane plans go awry. Frank Sinatra, never one to travel anything less than first-cabin, has been heard to complain that his jet "isn't big enough to get the damn piano in."

And the vagaries of business can alter one's requirements. One corporation with ambitions to expand its foreign markets selected the executive version of a jet airliner to take large numbers of personnel to overseas meetings. The interior was designed to make the group self-sufficient for sleeping accommodations and to provide conference-room facilities for elaborate presentations. When the company's changing plans de-emphasized foreign investments, owning the big jet turned out to be like having a destroyer when a couple of speedboats would do.

But, like Air Force One, most such executive versions of the large airline jets continue to meet the special requirements of heads of business as well as heads of state. Owners of these large business jets form an elite corps. There are fewer than a dozen. Among them are Hefner, Kirk Kerkorian, head of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and owner of two Las Vegas casino-hotels, Howard Hughes, rock singer James Brown, the Ling-Temco-Vought Corporation. Greek shipping magnate Stavros Spyros Niarchos and Peter Grace, head of the shipping-line family. (Aristotle Onassis, on the other hand, has an entire airline, Olympic, at his beck and call.) For this type of business machine, the investment can run in the neighborhood of $5,000,000, plus another $1,000,000 or so for a custom interior.

Boeing's 737 and McDonnell Douglas' DC-9 are series designations for air-craft that are available in different model versions. Built for airline use, the interior and the corporate name on the outside are the only things that make these business jets different from those on scheduled routes. Capable of matching the airlines in coast-to-coast or international timetables, the executive jet provides interior arrangements to suit particular business needs; it can be showroom, office or hotel.

For the smaller jets, there are standard interiors available to provide high-density seating or comfortable divans with fold-away work tables, or a combination of both. Fabrics and color coordination are worked out with design specialists. With small cutaway models of the aircraft, scale furniture can be selected and arranged to make the interior conform to both aesthetic tastes and desired efficiency. And if none of the pre-designed interiors fits the executive's exact personal requirements, it can be custom-tailored to his particular specifications—for a price. AiResearch Aviation in the West. Kerr Aviation in the Midwest and Atlantic Aviation in the East are just three of the many firms that will take the bare fuselage of a jet—large or small—and create an interior as distinctive as a corporate trademark.

Like the selection of the type and size of jet, the design of the interior is dictated more by the job the aircraft is to do than for pampering the boss. For companies whose jet is principally for transport of teams of key people, airline-type seats will usually suffice. When the passenger list is limited, such options as desks and paneled-off sleeping quarters can be included. If transportation of customers or clients is part of the regular use of the jet, the interior can feature a beverage center and a galley for preparing full-course meals. Eight-track stereos and adjustable lighting can offer a living-room environment while cruising at more than 500 miles per hour, as much as eight miles above the earth. The larger the jet, obviously, the greater the range of interior options. A big jet can serve as a self-sufficient ground accommodation that avoids the necessity for hotel rooms.

Largest (119.8 feet long), costliest ($5,500,000) and most unusual of the big-business aircraft is Hefner's Big Bunny. This jet-black jet, with the Rabbit insignia on each side of the tail, illuminated by twin 75,000-candle-power searchlights built into the wings, has inspired countless witticisms from the press corps, who have dubbed it "Hare Force One," "Leer Jet" and so forth. But even the most cynical correspondents have ended up admiring its skillful blend of opulence and efficiency, with flexible adaptations that facilitate getting down to business while up in the air. Accounts of the Big Bunny's inaugural flight last February appeared in Spanish, Flemish, Turkish, German, Italian, Swedish, Norwegian, Portuguese and French, as well as English-language newspapers and magazines around the world. In the U.S., Newsweek called the jet "mind-boggling"; Women's Wear Daily cited it as "a masterpiece mixture of function and luxury"; and Look, while labeling it "the world's most extravagant toy," conceded that the Big Bunny was a sound business proposition and "an effective aerial advertisement for its proprietor's product."

Inside or out, the Big Bunny looks like no other aircraft in existence. The tunnel atmosphere and row-on-row, eyes-front seating common to commercial-airplane interiors have been eliminated by lavish use of curved, sculptured fiber-glass surfaces, which divide the passenger cabin into three distinct areas, and an original combination of lounge chairs, divans and cushioned benches.

As you enter the plane through its forward end, you're greeted by one of the Jet Bunnies. These girls, at least three of whom are assigned to each flight, are specially trained for service, Playboy style, and garbed in clinging, wet-look nylon ciré outfits created by Chicago's internationally renowned fashion designer Walter Holmes. Your first view, beyond the Jet Bunnies, is a glimpse of the custom-equipped galley, outfitted with three regulation ovens capable of cooking full-course meals aloft, as well as a half-ton-capacity refrigerator-freezer. No TV dinners for the Big Bunny's pampered passengers. No plastic plates, either; two complete sets of crystal, china and silver, each sufficient for 36 guests, are carried aboard.

Proceeding aft, you enter the main cabin—like the rest of the passenger area, decorated in white, accentuated by shades of orange and beige, with hand-rubbed rosewood paneling and anodized-bronze fixtures. The game-and-dining tables in use there during the day can be removed at night, when curtain panels and custom-tailored inflatable bedding can be used to convert the area into private sleeping compartments. The Big Bunny, exclusive of Hefner's private quarters, berths 12 comfortably.

Amidships is the powder room—largest ever installed in an aircraft—equipped with such niceties as full-length mirror, hair dryer and curler, and lighted button controls for hot, cold or warm water. The living-room area, which can become—according to the whim of its passengers—a movie theater, stereo showcase, conference room or discothèque, occupies the space above the wings of the Big Bunny. An elaborately appointed built-in bar is stocked with push-top liquor dispensers and man-sized imported glassware. And color video-tape equipment plays prerecorded programs for viewing on seven television monitors located in the plane. When the program calls for 35mm slide presentations—or even for feature films in Cinemascope, which can be shown without interruption by two concealed 16mm projectors—a screen panel drops down from the ceiling. Special eight-track stereo-tape equipment provides distortion-free music throughout the interior. Aviation buffs may keep track of the Big Bunny's progress on instrument panels—including digital clock, altimeter, air-speed indicator and compass—located in the living room and in Hefner's private quarters, that duplicate those in the cockpit.

In the aft of the craft is Hefner's bedroom, with his celebrated 6' x 8' elliptical bed, covered with silk sheets and a spread of Tasmanian opossum skins. Electrically operated swivel chairs, there and in the living room, are upholstered in black Himalayan goat leather. Hefner's quarters are furnished with working gear as well; there is a contour-modeled desk with illuminated light box, on which he can edit slides and color transparencies for Playboy; dictating equipment; and an air-to-ground sky-phone installation, duplicated by one in the entertainment center. Daylight for the compartment is regulated through three polarized windows, operable individually or as a unit, so that with the turn of a dial Hefner can, if he wishes, turn day into night.

Adjacent to Hefner's quarters are his private lavatory and a unique shower compartment boasting recessed high and low spray heads, a shallow wading pool and smoothly sculptured pool-edge seat. Finally, at the tail of the plane, Hefner has his own private entrance, a drop-down airstair.

Not seen by the average passenger, but vital to the long-range operational capability of the Big Bunny, are two auxiliary tanks, built into the fuselage, that add 1780 gallons to the jet's fuel capacity, giving it a range of 3250 miles; as well as Doppler and loran instrumentation and a periscopic sextant for use in overseas flights. The Big Bunny is powered by two Pratt & Whitney JT8D-9 engines, which develop full take-off thrust of 14,000 pounds and a cruising speed of 565 mph.

While both McDonnell Douglas and Boeing are in the business-jet business now, the field was pioneered by Lockheed and foreign manufacturers. Early in the jet era, Lockheed took its made-for-the-military JetStar and dressed it in a business suit. North American Rockwell's Sabreliner also flew under military colors for years of experience before it was offered commercially. Early models of the JetStar were powered by two engines mounted on the aft of the fuselage. Now there are four Pratt & Whitney JT12A-8s to push it along at 570 mph. Since 1961, Lockheed has delivered 140 Jet-Stars. The price tag is $2,150,000.

Also in this price range is the Grumman Gulfstream II. A purchaser of this flying carpet for the high and mighty can expect to invest over $3,000,000. For it, he receives the biggest jet designed exclusively for the business market. The spacious Gulfstream II interior allows for not only convenient conversational groupings but also for the other amenities of home and office. High-fidelity consoles bring resonant bass and treble sounds eight miles above the earth andcustom galleys make it easy to prepare full-course meals in flight.

A new entry in this price range is the F-28, manufactured in Holland by Fokker Aircraft and marketed in the United States since mid-1969 by Fairchild. Designed for short-haul airline operations, the executive version sports a 43-foot-long cabin with headroom just shy of seven feet. A shower can be installed in one of the two lavatories.

North American Rockwell's Sabreliner can carry up to ten passengers and a crew of two, at a cruising speed of 560 mph. More than 300 Sabreliners have chalked up over 1,500,000 flight hours. Typical of the plush interior extras available are electrically operated sliding doors for the galley and lavatory. A touch of the button and the door slides into the bulkhead. For the Sabreliner, expect to invest about $1,400,000.

Unlike piston-powered models with production dominated by U.S. manufacturers, the business jet can be bought with a foreign accent. In addition to Fokker's F-28, there's a popular import made in France by Avions Marcel Dassault, and marketed in the States by the Business Jet Division of Pan American World Airways. Thinking the original name, Mystère, wouldn't capture the imagination of American business barons. Pan Am rechristened the twin jet the Falcon. More than 200 of these $1,600,000 speedsters are in use around the world, with Pan Am accounting for upwards of 135 sales. A new, smaller version is undergoing flight tests now and is expected to be available late in 1972. Each of the two Garrett TFE 731-2 fan-jet engines in the new Falcon 10 will generate 3400 pounds of thrust.

Surprisingly, America's entries in the business-jet race did not originate with the dominant general-aviation manufacturers. Of the big three—Beech, Cessna and Piper—only Cessna has designed and is producing a business jet, the Citation. A plane designed to carry six people and their baggage over 1500 statute miles, the Citation is just now going through certification tests, with first deliveries expected this fall.

Beech jumped directly into the market with a you-make-'em, we'll-sell-'em arrangement with the British firm Hawker Siddeley. Long a purveyor of practical business planes. Beech has added its own Yankee dash and daring to the BH 125's sturdy bulldog-and-tweed lineage. The BH 125 is powered by two Rolls-Royce Bristol Viper 522 engines, each delivering 3300 pounds of thrust. An auxiliary power unit can provide complete air conditioning or heating to the spacious walk-around cabin, even while the aircraft is on the ground. Price tag: $1,130,000. Another import in the million-dollar-plus category is the Hansa Dash 9, manufactured in Hamburg, Germany, by Hamburger Flugzeugbau Gmbh. The Hansa has a distinctive exterior appearance because of its rakish forward-swept wings.

There is no "bottom of the line" in the jet business. Each one is a thoroughbred with spirit and specifications mated to the missions of the men who climb aboard. Two business jets are available in the "popular" under-a-million range. Two—and possibly three—will be making their debuts soon. The question mark on the third is the Russian-built YAK-40. This tri-jet is now flying in Europe but there is speculation as to when—or if—it will be certificated for operation and sale in the U.S., and just what the price will be if it is; it sells for under $800,000 in Europe, but that figure will move up to $1,200,000 in the U.S.

Almost one fourth of the business jets operating today are Learjets. Three different models are now available, one priced under $800,000. Designed by Bill Lear, the Learjet is a no-nonsense, beautiful machine, with emphasis on getting people to places they want to go without unnecessary frills. "People don't mind sitting in the comfort of a Cadillac for a few hours, and they won't be in airplanes longer than that," commented Lear when questioned about the size, or lack of it, of the Learjet. It's a theory difficult to argue with, particularly when Lear points with understandable pride to the effectiveness of his jet.

The Commodore Jet, now priced at $900,000, with an engine-leasing program, began life as an American product but changed citizenship and is now produced by Israel Aircraft Industries. When North American Aviation, producer of the Sabreliner, merged with Rockwell Industries, maker of the Jet Commander, the Justice Department saw signs of monopoly and forced the sale of the Jet Commander division before approving the merger. Israel Aircraft Industries bought both design and tooling and moved the entire production to Israel to become a part of its own thriving aircraft-building business, which includes production of the Super-Mirage fighter plane.

Another French contender is the SN-600 Corvette, which made its maiden flight last July 16, off the runway at Melun-Villeroche. It's a six-to-eight-passenger speedster, named after one of the fastest types of warship; it won't be available until 1973. Price: $825,000.

If management doesn't want to tie up capital in a plane, it's still possible to get the benefits of a personal jet through charter or leasing. Several firms offer contract service. It can be on a trip basis or a contract for so many hours of flight over a given period of time. Pan Am Business Jets, as an example, offers charter service with its Falcon, complete with Pan Am captains, first officers and flight engineers as crew, and stewardess service if desired.

Just coming into its own in the pure-jet business market is the helicopter. The man who speeds across the country or the ocean at up to 590 miles per hour has no patience with ground traffic jams before departure or after arrival. So he goes up, over and away in his helicopter. And the jet chopper does it in high style. The Hughes 500—a sleek five-seater—has a 400-mile range, 150-mph top speed. The Alouette III, a French design marketed by Vought Helicopter Corporation, is now dressed up for business calls with interior seating design and fabrics that turn the whirlybird into a seven-place limousine with outstanding mobility. Bell and Fairchild-Hiller also have entries in this rapidly expanding market for the executive on the go.

Jet or prop, a private aircraft offers a new dimension. It may cost a half million—or six. It may have gold fittings in "the throne room" (as does one belonging to a jetster member of royalty) or it may have nothing more than a stowaway table. It can be office and conference room or pad and playroom. And if 590 miles per hour isn't fast enough to help one conquer the business world, on the drawing boards now are supersonic private planes. In the competition of the contemporary business world, the man who makes it moves not only in the best of circles but in the fastest of straight lines. The executive jet gives him both.