Access: The Spruce Goose

The “Spruce Goose” moves into a geodesic dome next to the Queen Mary, 1982

One of the perks of filming on location is being granted access to people and places that — for any number or reasons — are off-limits to the general public. It’s another form of “cinematic immunity,” and part of the fun of being in the biz.

While transitioning from the brutal beat-downs of low-budget features to the more lucrative and considerably less abusive world of television commercials, I landed a gig as a juicer on a spot promoting the “Spruce Goose,” an enormous seaplane built of wood by Howard Hughes during WW 2. Although the program was cancelled before the plane went into production, the prototype Hughes H-4 Hercules was maintained in pristine condition for the next thirty-five years before being put on public display in a giant dome next to the Queen Mary in Long Beach Harbor. Once the plane was in place, the public needed to know about it, so we got the job of filming a commercial — and this was before a big hole was cut in the side and a glass partition installed to allow the paying public to look but not touch: the plane was still intact, and being part of the film crew, I was able to explore it to my heart’s content.

I’d been fascinated by rockets and airplanes while growing up, and knew about the Spruce Goose, but never dreamed I’d actually get to see the huge plane, much less have the run of it. Once the lighting was set, I went everywhere, first to sit in the pilot seat where Hughes himself took the massive plane for its one and only flight, then to walk out into the wings via passageways that were tall and wide enough for mechanics to work on the engines in flight. I went all through the cabin, which looked like a set from a ‘50s science fiction movie, then picked my way through the interior of the fuselage to the back of the plane, where a rope ladder dangled inside a dark shaft running up into the enormous 80 foot tall tail fin. For a moment I considered climbing that ladder, but given that it had been hanging there, slowly and imperceptibly decaying for nearly 40 years, I decided to heed the wisdom of Falstaff in Shakespeare’s “Henry IV” that “the better part of valor is discretion."

Howard Hughes at the pilot’s controls

We spent two full days making that spot, with a “money shot” featuring two football players in full uniform atop that massive wing: a quarterback throwing a pass to a receiver who caught the ball. The entire commercial isn’t on the internet, but I found this short clip, which was broadcast as part of a promo for an upcoming news show hosted by Connie Chung in 1983.

(Photo and text courtesy of the Long Beach Library)

“With a wingspan more than 319 feet, Howard Hughes’ ‘Spruce Goose’ perches in its permanent resting place inside the world’s largest clear-span aluminum dome beside the Queen Mary in Long Beach, California. The legendary aircraft, which was hidden in a temperature-controlled hanger following its one-and-only flight on November 2, 1947, is open for public viewing for the first time in more than 30 years. The Spruce Goose exhibit features the 400,000-pound, all-wood flying boat surrounded by a display of aviation artifacts and memorabilia of Howard Hughes’ aviation and film careers.”

That gig was a long two days of working on a hard concrete floor (when I wasn’t exploring inside the H4, anyway), but whenever I began to feel tired or bored, I’d just turn around to look at that big plane, and everything else was forgotten.

I thought the Spruce Goose had a forever home in Long Beach, but the involvement of the odious — and utterly soulless — Disney Corporation resulted in eviction, and after a decade in the dome it was disassembled and moved to Oregon. I feared it would remain in pieces and rot in a warehouse up there, but the Evergreen Museum did a wonderful job reassembling and displaying the big plane along with several other rare vintage aircraft. If you want to see for yourself, here’s a fifteen minute video tour of the exterior and interior of the Spruce Goose.

Maybe I’ll make the trip north sometime to see the Goose again, but nothing will top those two days forty-plus years ago when I got to explore it for myself, with nobody looking over my shoulder … and was paid for the privilege.

As one of the juicers on my crew used to say: “You’ve gotta love it!”

Note: If you want to know how this massive airplane was moved from Long Beach to Oregon, take a look at this — and thanks to veteran key grip Jon Woolf for pointing the way!