Igor Sikorsky (1889-1972) was, like Demens, born in Russia to a wealthy family. After failed attempts to build a helicopter at an early age he focused on fixed-wing aircraft. His first designs were small but flew well. Encouraged, he designed the passenger ship, Grand in 1913, the first aircraft in the world to be powered by four engines. The Grand was a futuristic leap with a fully enclosed cockpit and passenger cabin appointed with four seats, a sofa and a table. A washroom and a clothes closet were aft. Its wing span was 92 feet, and it stood 12 feet off the ground, supported on 16 tires. A “balcony” in front of the cockpit accommodated up to three people for an open-air ride. With Igor at the controls, a co-pilot and mechanician completed the crew. For four months the Grand gave hundreds of demonstration flights at St. Petersburg’s air field, and carried dozens of passengers. The Grand was followed by a series of Sikorsky’s large multi-engine transports which he named Ilia Mourometz, after a legendary Russian warrior. Many were adapted as bombers in WWI.

Skillfully piloting the Ilia Mourometz V, in 1914, Sikorsky made the world’s first round trip, cross-country flight of a four engine airplane from St. Petersburg to Kiev. On the maiden flight the co-pilot’s job was to stand in the passenger cabin and run forward if the aircraft was tail-heavy or to the rear if Igor indicated it was nose-heavy. Fortunately it was neither, and flew level. The co-pilot was also responsible for air to ground communication, which was successfully achieved by putting messages in aluminum cans (with money for telegraphic fees) and tossing them overboard. Cruising at 2,000 feet, going an average of 65 mph, the crew took turns eating breakfast in the passenger cabin. During the 1600 mile round-trip Sikorsky gave the controls to his co-pilot, and stepped out onto the “balcony.” Holding on to the handrails high above the earth, he later recalled his ship seemed “motionless” beneath his feet and below him was a “fairyland formed by clouds.” Returning to the passenger cabin he gazed out the window and sipped tea.

Earlier that year in St. Petersburg, Florida, there was no enclosed, warm cabin, much less hot tea awaiting Abram Pheil when he won the bid at $400 to be the first passenger in SP&T’s Benoist which they called the “Safety First Seaplane.”

The circuitous route connecting St. Petersburg and Tampa required two hours by train, yet it was only 21 miles across Tampa Bay. Three thousand spectators lined the waterfront for the inaugural flight. Pheil climbed into the hull of the biplane which had no windshield, no seatbelts and not much leg room. It looked like a cross between a kiddy-car and a boat with wings. But Pheil was in good hands. The sturdy seaplane was built by Thomas Benoist of Chicago, powered with a 75-hp Roberts engine. At the controls was well-known exhibition flier and test pilot, Antony “Tony” Jannus. Jay Dee Smith was the only other employee for SP&T, who later recalled, “I was traffic manager, ticket agent, chief of maintenance, and line mechanic. The Commerce Department ruled that all flying boats came under the Steamboat Inspection Service rules. We were required to carry life jackets, a fire extinguisher, and a tin horn for signaling.”

Jannus revved the engine, taxied away from the shore and was soon skimming above the water at 15-50 feet. They gently splashed down in Tampa 20 minutes later where Pheil had a business meeting. Jannus delivered him back to St. Petersburg in time for dinner. For the next four months the airline ran two flights each day, six days a week. One-way fare was $5. There were no refunds for those opposed to water spray. SP&T ended the season with few delays and a perfect safety record.

Benoist and Jannus were but memories when Igor Sikorsky emigrated to the U.S. in 1919. His land and amphibious aircraft designs are legendary. Today his helicopters are modern marvels.

The next time you view the clouds through your aircraft window remember the tale of two cities named St. Petersburg.