Discover the thrill of training in a Piper Super Cub on floats at an iconic facility that has trained over 22,000 seaplane pilots since 1963.
By Grant Boyd
Jack Brown’s Seaplane Base in Winter Haven, Florida, has trained over 26,000 pilots during its more than six decades in business. The operation has become synonymous with quality seaplane instruction, and Piper Cubs have long headlined its fleet. Today, three of the company’s seven aircraft are Piper PA-18 Super Cubs, which are widely regarded as one of the best float-equipped aircraft.
In late February, I was able to get a glimpse of what it would be like to pursue a single-engine sea rating at Jack Browns. I have had many great experiences as an aviation writer, but flying a seaplane was definitely toward the top of the list.
Jack Brown’s Seaplane Base has been located on Lake Jessie since 1963, directly off the approach end of Runway 5 at Winter Haven Regional Airport (KGIF). With near-perpetual sunshine, Central Florida has many flight instruction firms, and Winter Haven is no different. The airport itself is home to several providers, and there was almost always a light piston in the sky during my time at the seaplane base.
If planes constantly buzzing overhead isn’t enough to excite you, the laid-back, aviation-centric vibe at Jack Brown’s will. The weather the day I visited in late February was nearly perfect. The high climbed to 77 F, augmented by clear skies and a beaming late afternoon sun. To top it off, the winds were light and variable.
Seeing two employees standing on the floats of a De Havilland Canada DHC-2 Beaver, working on its stoutly radial, cemented my thought that this was going to be a fun time. Jimmy Buffett played from their speaker on repeat, and I hummed along while walking to the front desk.
“There are airplanes in the sky. There are ships on the horizon. And a beach always nearby…How did I get this lucky? Tell me, who gets to live like this?”
I was looking for Ben Shipps, who joined Jack Brown’s as an instructor shortly after graduating from college and became its president in 2019. He was just finishing up a checkride with a student but would be back shortly, I was told. That was perfectly acceptable, as the extra time would give me the opportunity to become more acquainted with the facility.
While this was my first visit to the base, my suspicion is that it had not changed much since 1963. The facilities are comfortable and welcoming, with several areas where you can sit and watch other students taxi out or look at the boats sharing space on the 189-acre lake. Heads turn when you hear an engine turn over, even if your eyes have to temporarily avert from study materials.
A short while later, Shipps joined me in the reception area. I had just finished signing my name in the guest book and looking through a scrapbook showcasing memorable moments throughout the years. Flipping through the pages, I learned that Jimmy Buffett being played aloud was no coincidence, and I could actually hear his duet with Alan Jackson off in the distance. Both musicians had earned their seaplane ratings at the facility.
“You must be Grant,” Shipps said, as he shook my hand and advised that the world just gained a new seaplane pilot. The pilot’s newly acquired distinction as the “world’s newest seaplane pilot” would only be valid for a few more minutes, as another examiner was conducting a checkride at that very moment.
Who should get seaplane training?
“We have around 450 new seaplane pilots each year and fly with about 800 others who are doing introductory flights or additional training. People come back fairly regularly, even a few times a year to fly with us, and we have friends from lots of other countries who visit us for training. They overfly a lot of seaplane training facilities to come here, and that’s humbling,” Shipps said, noting that he knows they could train more pilots, but the business’ primary concerns are safety and keeping a high level of quality.
One of the misconceptions I arrived with was that seaplane training is just for those who own a floatplane or want a job doing that type of flying. Shipps explained that the training is applicable to land pilots as well.
“The attraction of seaplane flying is the freedom of it, which is both a blessing and a curse. Freedom means you are erasing the structure. Usually, the inspiration behind a pilot’s decision-making is trying not to get into trouble with the powers that be. What people find out when they get into seaplane flying is that when the structure gets wiped clean, it requires more self-discipline in order to be successful,” Shipps explained. “Flying a rectangular pattern around an oddly shaped body of water is more of a task than it is lining up to an asphalt runway. I tell a lot of people that flying a seaplane is like you just turned 16 again. You got the keys to the car, and you have a lot of freedom—but you need to learn how to exercise it properly.”
Jack Brown’s Cubs
Jack Brown’s currently has three Super Cubs, with years of manufacture ranging from 1953 to 1967. The model I flew while here previously operated in Maine before sitting unused for several years. It was then transported to Florida in boxes and restored by the base’s in-house maintenance team. This Super Cub, sporting a 160 hp Lycoming O-320 engine and EDO 2000 floats, has a 36-gallon fuel capacity. Its useful load is around 700 pounds, thanks to a 2,000-pound gross weight increase modification.
“Cubs are, in my opinion, the best seaplane trainer out there because it’s a natural marriage of looking outside with a lot of feel and pitch attitude flying,” Shipps said. “We always, especially if someone has never experienced a tandem seat and stick like a Cub, try and push them in that direction a little bit because they’re very surprised at the simplicity of flying this way. It’s like strapping the plane on, and you have a good feel for everything.”
To level reader expectations, I am a rusty, low-time pilot who had never previously flown a Cub before—or anything on floats. There was a lot to learn, but I found the experience, bolstered by Shipps’ expertise, to be intuitive and enjoyable.
When stepping onto the floats and working to wrangle my life jacket-wearing six-foot-tall frame into the aircraft, I saw firsthand how simple an aircraft the Cub is. There are no unnecessary buttons, gauges, or switches that would distract me from learning to fly off the water. The preflight flow was quick (focusing on the location of the magnetos, fuel pump, mixture, throttle, trim, and a few other controls). Within minutes, I was yelling, “Clear prop!” Is there a better phrase for warning scuba divers of pending overhead danger?
To the water…and then, the air!
At this point, most students would have already completed their ground school training and would be familiar with the various nuances of seaplane flying. My initial experience with these aspects would be in the aircraft, and water taxiing was the first task on our to-do list. Shipps informed me that there could be a whole course on water taxiing alone, and he let me guide the floating Cub along as we approached the runup area.
The pre-departure checklist isn’t much different in this aircraft compared to a land plane, although a key consideration is that the water rudder must be raised prior to takeoff. Our mag check was good, and the lone boat sharing the lake was far away, so it was time to really start having fun.
Most of the training at Jack Brown’s is completed within a 10-mile radius of their facility. Polk County, where the base is located, has more than 600 lakes, most of which seaplanes can operate on. All training starts at Lake Jessie, which has an unmarked north-south 3,600-foot-long-by-2,200-foot-wide seaplane lane. The base’s FAA identifier is F57.
The winds still hadn’t picked up in the half-hour Shipps and I talked before the flight. While a lake day on a boat is best enjoyed when there are calm winds, they make the most dangerous conditions for a seaplane pilot.
“In most landplanes, you have no angle of attack when taking off; you need to rotate . There are a wide variety of seaplanes that I’ve flown, and I cannot tell you one liftoff speed in any of those. It’s all about geometry, and your goal in a seaplane is not to leave the water: it’s to set the airplane up for success, meaning ensuring there is the least amount of drag. You will feel it when we are on step, much like a boat on plane,” Shipps said.
“The way the floats are mounted on the aircraft, there’s a built-in angle of incidence where the step attitude gives you a great AOA (angle of attack) on the takeoff. But if the water’s sticky, what we call ‘glassy,’ it will increase your takeoff distance by up to 30% (most takeoffs in this aircraft in ideal conditions are less than 800 feet). If you want to get off the water more quickly, you can actually roll a float plane slightly left and break the surface tension off one float. The aircraft will then rapidly accelerate and get you airborne.”
Once in the sky following my first seaplane takeoff, it was a quick jaunt at about 700 feet agl to a nearby lake. There, I was able to observe the same principle in action but inverse, landing on almost perfectly still water.
“Crystal calm lakes look beautiful, but they are the most dangerous. Have you ever had the runway lights go dark on short final? That is what glassy water is like. You know the ground’s down there but don’t want to go searching for it with the nose of the airplane,” Shipps explained as we began heading toward our first intended landing site.
He then asked if I would like to take the controls, to which I enthusiastically replied, “My controls!” and wiggled the stick and tapped the rudder pedals to signal the same. After a few clearing turns while still at our initial altitude, I felt that I had become “one with the machine.” It was easy to see why the Jack Brown’s team typically recommends the Cub for initial training.
I began setting up the aircraft to enter a pattern of our own design while simultaneously pulling the fuselage-mounted throttle back. One of the distinct aspects of this aircraft is that it descends fast. With large floats and hefty barn door flaps (with two settings, half and full), losing altitude is never an issue. Soon, we were on short final, aiming to land a hundred feet or so into the lake.
The winds still had not picked up so it was hard to tell how far above the (probably) alligator-laden lake we were, just as he advised. One of the psychological things to overcome when flying a seaplane in these conditions is that the shore is your friend. The closer you are, the better reference you have for landing.
At a descent rate of around 500 feet per minute, the cattails of the nearest bank were quickly approaching. Our aircraft had already been properly configured for landing, and our primary concerns were that the water rudder was not down and that our plan of action was established. Taking off in a seaplane was fairly easy, I thought. Would landing be the same story?
“When you are on the highway, do you look out front or out the window?” Shipps calmly asked, after catching my gaze shift over to the quickly approaching water over my right shoulder. I adjusted my eyes forward and began pulling back on the stick – knowing that the water would soon hit our floats. Nearly 10 seconds later, I was finally correct, and we quickly decelerated. Most landings in this aircraft happen in less than 300 feet.
After touching down, we pulled the throttle back to idle. A few seconds later, Shipps said that he wanted to show me a high-speed taxi. Soon we were jetting around the lake, making sweeping left-hand turns rivaling those of a V-hull speedboat. We then performed what is known as a confined area maneuver, one that maximizes a body of water’s space when there may not be a straight section long enough to accommodate a takeoff (especially in the event of rising terrain once airborne).
Trees and brightly painted waterfront homes were quickly below our floats as we set the nose toward the south. When pitched for altitude, the Super Cub typically ascends at 900 feet per minute and cruises when straight and level at around 100 miles per hour. About a minute or so later, we spotted another lake where I could further refine my burgeoning seaplane flying skills.
My final test during the quick flight would be at Lake Jessie, which was visible on the horizon following our most recent takeoff. Coming back to land at the seaplane base, I began thinking about how exciting it was to be learning a new skill—and the lessons that would transfer to my land flying. But I didn’t have much time to soak up the soon-to-be-setting Florida sunshine before we had to land and taxi back to the dock.
Knowing what my answer would be, Shipps asked, “How was that?” as I pulled the mixture, letting the Super Cub on floats naturally drift to the shore. He then welcomed me to the ranks of pilots from around the world who have flown with Jack Brown’s.
“How did I get this lucky? Tell me, who gets to live like this?”
I am currently almost 10 years into a sales strategy career in the business aviation industry and moonlighting as a writer. Now, I think that my second career may just have to be as a seaplane pilot. Maybe I’ll end up flying supplies to remote hunting lodges in Alaska or tourists to white-sand-flanked resorts in the Caribbean. Wherever I end up, there is one thing I know: Jack Brown’s will be the start of that journey.
Grant Boyd soloed at 16. In the 12 years since, he has been involved in aviation through a variety of avenues, from customer service to marketing. He has written more than 400 articles for various aviation publications and enjoys learning about aircraft/pilots with unique missions. Send questions or comments to editor@www.piperflyer.com.
