The Legacy of Pierre Robin
Pierre Robin was one of the great names in general aviation and he leaves a remarkable legacy. We talked to his son Christophe, who shared a treasure trove of photos. Sit back and enjoy…
25 September 2020
One of the great names of light aviation, Pierre Robin, has died, aged 93. His name lives on with Robin Aircraft which continues to manufacture aeroplanes at Darois, near Dijon, France.
Robin’s best known aircraft is the DR400. More than 3,000 have been produced and most airfields and flying clubs in France will have at least one on the fleet. It’s still in production as the DR401, with the same airframe, enlarged cockpit and electronic flight displays.
Avions Pierre Robin was founded in 1957 as Centre-Est Aéronautique by Pierre Robin working with Jean Délémontez, one of the founders of Jodel aircraft. Robin’s first aircraft were based on a Jodel design. Later, he produced a metal aircraft, the two-seat HR-200, working with Chris Heintz of Zenair.
Guy Pellissier, part of the management at modern day Robin Aircraft, paid this tribute: “Pierre Robin was an outstanding flying entrepreneur. Jean Délémontez was an outstanding aeronautical engineer. We miss them both and it is a true privilege to extend their legacy.”
Philippe de Segovia, now a director at Daher-TBM, was an editor at Aviation magazine in France in the 1980s, meeting him for the first time in 1984.
“Pierre Robin didn’t speak much, but when he did he had some witty remarks with tongue-in-cheek humour, styling himself as the country farmer,” said Philippe.
“In fact, he was definitely smart, being able to make a living in light aviation where so many people lost fortunes.
“When asked about his beginnings, he explained he was just a flight instructor who wanted to offer his students a three-seat aeroplane for navigation training.
“He started from the plans of the Jodel D-13. People who visited the club in Dijon asked him if he could build the same for them, pushing him to become an aircraft manufacturer and building his first design, the DR-100. He admitted he was successful because he received a lot of help because of his ‘country guy’ style. Even the French civil aviation authority was supportive.”
Pierre was also a successful racing pilot, winning the Rallye de Sicily with Jodel DR1050, “Quietly modified with small wheels and the help of a ground assistant to tape all the aerodynamic gaps before the daily task,” said Philippe.
Pierre sold Robin Aircraft in 1988, and left two years later. His son, Christophe, launched his own aircraft company, Dyn Aero, and is now Head of Design at Daher-TBM.
We spoke to Christophe for a video interview (click here to watch). Christophe talks about growing up in an aviation-mad family and later events when the company was sold to Apex Aircraft and the Pellissier family.
One of Christophe’s earliest memories is taking a train for the first time. “I was 12 years old,” he said. “Otherwise, at the weekend, going on vacation or going to see friends it was ‘taking the aircraft’. It was a wonderful experience to take a train!
“Everything with my father and my mother was about aircraft. There was no frontier between the family and the factory. Our house was next to the factory. There was also the house of Mr Délémontez and the houses of the other engineers in the company. It was like a small village in which everything was about aircraft. I grew up in this.
“I think my father would be proud that he did what he did after starting with nothing. He didn’t have any plan to be an aircraft manufacturer. He was a flight instructor and he was good at wood manufacturing – his father was an ebonist (wood carver) – so he started building aircraft during the winter.
“They built a D12 for the aero club and when my sister was born he added two seats in that aircraft with the help of Mr Délémontez. Most of the first aircraft were built in Saone in Normandy and when that factory closed and stopped building the aircraft, my father was left with about 100 orders for his aircraft – and that’s why he became an aircraft manufacturer.
“My father was the creative guy and my mother was the organisation. He was the optimist and she was the realist. They always worked together in a very complementary way. In all the difficult moments she was there, helping my father.”
Pierre has left us, and there will be no doubt about the extent of his legacy. I leafed through my log book and in terms of hours flown, more have been logged between bent wings than anything else. Jodels and Robins are the kind of aeroplane I like to fly, and perhaps more important, can afford to own. Robins suit small and occasionally rough strips and they carry a good load – in many cases more than they should – and do so without protest. The visibility is great and they are simple to maintain. And they are nice to fly and look great – one of the aesthetic details to which the late Pierre first attended was ‘the look’.
Compare a DR1050 with the earlier inspirations from the Great Originator Jean Délémontez (the ‘D’ in ‘DR’) and you’ll see what I mean. Bubble windscreen, wider track undercarriage, sleeker cowls, more interior space, better panels. Some of that was because Robin had become a volume manufacturer – the Délémontez originals were intended for amateur builders at French flying clubs, so the construction needed to be simple and the materials readily available. That’s why the wing is one piece and the brakes and door handles were borrowed from a Citroen. Some of Robin’s input was following fashion, sometimes even to the detriment of absolute aerodynamic efficiency – like the swept fin and all-flying stabilator. Robin definitely kept the Jodel’s essential practicality, but he developed the models and went on to create a market where wood and fabric was no longer a vintage curiosity.
My first DR was a Continental-powered 1050 which I bought with flying best chum Geoffrey. I had already established that there wasn’t anything on the market within my budget that could perform as well, so Geoffrey and I flew to Etrepagny, a nice grass strip about 70 miles south of Le Touquet, to look at a French-registered Sicile. It had been upside down, the other side of hedge, but that proved to be only one of its best attributes. It meant that the local craftsmen had rebuilt and recovered the wing and made it look very smart. The panel was functional, and a bit like Trigger’s broom it showed the various radios and instruments that had been added and removed, plus the seats were a bit tatty, trimmed in some kind of industrial plastic. Which is pretty much how it remained for the best part of 20 years. What seems now like a very small pile of euro swiftly changed hands, and I set off for Le Touquet to clear immigration. In the two decades since, whatever flight of fancy had tempted me towards something else, the faithful DR1050 remained an essential means of transport for both of us. The brakes were always a pain, but everything else remained a complete joy and it never seriously let us down.
Geoffrey obviously felt the same, so when I discovered a Belgian-registered Robin DR400RP – the one with the Porsche Flugmotor and a big MT three-blade prop – it seemed like the obvious thing for him to purchase. Robin was ever the innovator, and always willing to try new things, and his Lycoming-powered DR400 Remorqueur glider tug was already a staple at French gliding clubs – large canopy, brilliant visibility, good lifting/towing ability, nice to fly – so when Porsche developed its Carrera car engine for the Mooney PFM, Pierre spotted an opportunity. The engine is super quiet, more so than the car from which it came, and because it retains its engine-driven cooling fan, it couldn’t be shock-cooled on the drive down from 10,000ft. It was a natural for noise-sensitive areas like Switzerland.
The RP, which we duly fetched back from Wevelgem, was equipped with super-sleek extra long cowls (no need for cooling inlets) and single lever control for the engine and propeller, and with 39 litres per hour showing on the bespoke Porsche engine display, it would always cruise at a genuine 140kt in almost complete silence. Which is faster than the Mooney for which the engine was designed, and still remarkable for any 220hp fixed gear aeroplane. And… one whose engine would always start straight away, hot or cold. It felt heavier than an ‘ordinary’ DR400, mainly because it was, but it leapt off the runway with such ease, that nobody cared, well not in these parts anyway. The aircraft was still nicely responsive once in the air, and it’s still in the family, awaiting official certification from its eventual move from the ‘F’ to ‘G’ registers. Some things never change… Robin built about 50 RPs before Porsche ceased production of the engine, but if they had gone to Robin instead of being seduced by the apparent glamour of a link with Mooney, who knows what could have happened. The marriage was definitely a glimpse of the future, and I’d fly it any day in preference to a Lycoming, or anything of its ilk.
I couldn’t afford an RP, and anyway, there weren’t any on sale, so instead I purchased a DR253 which appeared at an opportune moment. Yes, it has a nosewheel, but all three were extravagantly spatted and it had the wider fuselage which was more recently adopted for the DR500 President, and the diesel-powered DR401, more of which in a moment.
The rare DR253 is a wonderful aircraft, boasting all the traditional Robin strengths, but with more room, more lifting ability, more range, and more power from a 180hp Lycoming driving a fixed pitch metal Sensenich. It was certified with a Hartzell constant-speed propeller so already good short field performance could have been even better, but Robin had embraced Jean Délémontez’ core value that if you make the design efficient enough aerodynamically, you can do without the expense of a wobbling propeller. They remain a ‘nice to have’ extra, albeit at a price. DR253 prices have also since gone up, so obviously, other people have discovered its virtues. About 100 253s Regents were made between 1967 and 1971.
I then came across an HR100, which is most commonly equipped with a 200hp Continental IO-360 six and Hartzell constant-speed, with a fixed undercarriage. This one though, had retractable gear and a 285hp Continental Tiara engine, the company’s ill-fated attempt at a geared engine which spins at higher rpm and drives the propeller from the camshaft. Robin was certainly a great collaborator, but I’m not sure why he formed a partnership with Canadian-born engineer Christophe Heintz (the ‘H’ in HR). I’m sure somebody does. Heintz already had an impressive CV by the time he became Robin’s chief engineer in the late 1960s and he was responsible for Robin’s first venture into aluminium, designing the Robin 100 and 200 HR series before he departed in 1974 to form Zenair, which is still alive and well today as popular makers of kit-built aircraft. The HR100 was based on the DR253’s fuselage, made in metal, with the thick-section wings which are still apparent on Heintz’s later designs, in this case containing huge fuel tanks which gave an enormous range. It also featured the large sliding canopy which was about to be a signature feature of Robin’s wooden DR400 (developed from the popular DR300 series, which had evolved from the DR200, mainly by the addition of a nosewheel).
The HR100-285 ‘Tiara’ taking its moniker from the engine, was certainly stylish – mainly because of that sliding canopy – but it didn’t go as well as the power suggested it might and definitely not as fast as the fixed gear RP, which is 50hp shy and used a lot less fuel. Thirty-seven Tiaras were built, together with 24 Lycoming IO-540 powered HR100-250 models which were similar in most respects (including the retractable undercarriage) and were built mainly for the military as trainers. The volume model was the Continental powered HR200, of which 113 were made. Robin also experimented with a long fuselage 4+2 version, the fuselage of which lay outside the factory at Dijon for years, and I know he built an aircraft for an experimental but ultimately still-born V6 aero engine from a major French manufacturer. Well of course he did…
I took a DR360 in part exchange for a Mooney (something else that didn’t go as well as the numbers promised) and in some ways it was back to normality, and in a good way. Similar to the 1050 in general handling and visibility, but with a sense of greater room in the cockpit thanks in part to a slightly wider fuselage than its forbear (only a few cm, but it felt like more), but mainly thanks to the absence of the fuel tank behind the panel, which moved forward under a bigger windscreen set further away. And of course more power thanks to a 180hp Lycoming. It was stable on instruments, fast enough to cover big distances and would carry pretty much whatever you could fit in. It went to finance a Jurca MJ53 (another story), but that didn’t last long, replaced at last by a Mascaret which I found in Mulhouse. Not strictly a DR, but almost, powered by a 105hp Potez which I liked and still do. Keeping it should have been the sensible thing…
“The DR250 Capitaine was the first real development of the DR1050, but the 250 is usually regarded as the ultimate DR, some say the ultimate Robin”
As long as you can manage with just the two seats, a D150 Mascaret has all the virtues of a Jodel/DR but with more speed and more range than any bladder can stand (Délémontez shortened the wings for speed, and the fuselage to match, and put a 107 litre tank in the back seat space), plus the 40 litre tank in each wing root. It carries a huge load which you can cram onto the large shelf over the fuel tank and I flew it for many happy hours until my sensible head was turned by the discovery of a DR250 at a price I could almost afford.
The DR250 Capitaine was the first real development of the DR1050 which flew as early as 1965 (despite the numerical confusion, the smaller engined DR220 and 221 Dauphins came after the 250) but the 250 is usually regarded as the ultimate DR, some say the ultimate Robin. The 1050’s fuselage had been lengthened and was slightly wider round the cockpit and the wheels were further outboard along the wings, which gave it a more purposeful ground stance. The windscreen was more steeply sloped and the panel more distant, the nose was longer and the cowls were more streamlined. Range (always a Robin strength) was even greater, thanks to four fuel tanks (one in each wing root, one under the rear seat, and an auxiliary in the rear fuselage, switchable by the pilot). Engine was the 160hp version of the Lycoming 0-320, which in my opinion is the nicest of the Lycoming fours, driving a fixed pitch metal Sensenich propeller (they were certified with a wooden Evra, or a constant-speed Hartzell). It’s a spec, which on paper, and apart from the bigger engine, reads much the same as the 1050’s, but which adds up to so much more than the sum.
I can even remember thinking as I cruised back from somewhere in the South West at a relaxed 115kt, that this was a properly ‘grown up’ 1050. It did of course have all that model’s virtues as well, but seemed to make so much more out of them. And it looked so good sitting on its tail, showing off its sleek cowls and big spats. In many ways, I wish I’d never sold it, but another less happy part of the Robin story is the sale of the company and the insistence of its new owners to hang on to all the DR200 Type Certificates. That’s its prerogative, of course, as is the freedom to charge the prices for spares, but it means a 1960s 200 series wood and fabric Robin is an EASA aeroplane, just like a 2020 Cirrus, and with all that entails…
I have now at last found a DR1050M1, which was Centre-Est Aéronautique’s last development of the 1050 (CEA was founded by Pierre Robin as a production facility in the late 1950s). The M1 is really a prototype 250 (swept fin, all flying stabilator), but with less room in the cockpit for reasons already mentioned, and traditional airbrakes instead of flaps. And I’m sorry to say, lacking some of that subtle, hard to define coolness which enhances the 250’s chill. It’s not far off though, and my diesel engine, I’m hoping will make up for some of it…
Talking of which, just after it was launched six or so years ago, I flew the Continental diesel-powered DR401 which represents the very latest in the DR line. It features another 10cm extra width in the cockpit (similar to the DR253’s), which in turn allows some subtle reshaping of the instrument panel – that and the presence of much Garmin glass and of course the main item, which is the 155hp diesel engine and the MT 3-blade propeller up front. It was all fantastically smooth and quiet – I wrote at the time that the big difference is not so much that it burns oil, but that it is a modern engine with modern refinement – the diesel bit is just a bonus.
I’m not sure though that it’s that much more refined than the Porsche Flugmotor installation in the RP, and it definitely doesn’t go as fast. It is however still very much a Robin because the theme that runs through this and all DRs thankfully remains common. They all fly nicely, carry a good load, have brilliant visibility and so on. And they all have a stick, not a yoke. Did I mention that? Even the latest DR401 still has a stick. It’s part of the Robin DNA.
Pierre Robin was first a racer, and there’s something about racers that gets things done quickly, and makes them open to new ideas. Think motorsport’s Colin Chapman, Jack Brabham, Gordon Murray, Jim Hall. Some have an eye for line as well (Sydney Camm, Beverley Shenstone and Reginald Mitchell, Rene Caudron). Pierre Robin was definitely one who possessed both. His DR line grew out of a set of plans offered to homebuilders (of which he was one) and which he developed into a wonderful and very successful line of aircraft.
So, given that I’m clearly a Robinista, I’d still like to build my ideal Robin. It would have the fuselage of the 253 (or 401, or 500) and the third wheel would definitely be at the back. I’d probably have the forward sliding canopy for practicality, although it doesn’t look as good on a taildragger as the 250’s sloping screen, but I’d like to draw both and see. A bit extra on the gear legs might do the trick. I’m still not sure about the engine though. The Continental diesel is refined and economical (and modern) certainly, but the Porsche is just as refined even if it’s not so modern, and it’s much more powerful. Maybe I’ll just have to do my own engine. Now there’s a thought…
