Career flying in small-town America

Agricultural aviation is big business in small-town America. If checking in for work in a uniform with a funny hat at a major airline hub isn’t your thing, aerial application may be right for you.

Allen Chorman and Son Inc. is the largest aerial applicator on the Delmarva peninsula, an agricultural mecca comprising Delaware and the eastern portions of Maryland and Virginia. Delmarva is not far from some large cities—Baltimore, Washington, D.C., and Philadelphia—but you’d never know it from the scenery and the slow pace of life in the area. It’s a whole ’nother world east of the Chesapeake Bay.

Chorman’s predecessor, Joe Hudson, started his operation at the Rehoboth Airport 75 years ago. Rehoboth is long gone thanks to development that has swarmed Delaware’s coastal Atlantic beaches. When the city folks escape to the shore every weekend, this portion of Delaware gets a lot of transient traffic. Because of this, Chorman moved the operation inland in 1991.

While jet flying seems to get the lion’s share of attention when it comes to pilot career paths, it can be a monotonous job. Aerial application is the opposite. You fly alone in a big, expensive, single-engine airplane carrying a hopper full of high-dollar seed or chemicals. Your living is made by dropping your payload from less than 10 feet above the ground while performing dramatic wingover course-reversal maneuvers. It’s not easy flying, but it is thrilling, mentally rewarding, and requires excellent piloting skills. It can also pay well if you’re willing to put in the long days of hard work.

“We don’t want cowboys here. This is a very serious operation that we’re doing,” said Jeff Chorman, son of company founder and current president of the operation. “Things are very expensive and there’s a lot of liability so you want the right person in that airplane.” Minimum requirements are a commercial certificate and tailwheel signoff but most important to Chorman is good common sense and the ability to fit in.

“We try to homegrow our pilots,” said Chorman. “It can take five years to get someone productive and safe to the point where I don’t have to worry about them. [Prospective pilots] can expect to spend a year on the ground learning the operation, mixing chemicals, washing airplanes, working the hours.” At Chorman, it’s essentially all on-the-job training. Pilots put about 50 hours in an Aeronca 7EC Champ to get them comfortable with tailwheel aircraft and low-level maneuvering.

Pilots can expect to make around $50,000 per year at first, although Chorman uses incentives based on how many acres are covered. Senior pilots who cover a lot of acreage can make up to $200,000 per year. Chorman pilots stick with the same airplane and work the same areas to increase safety through familiarity with the airplane and the fields they often spray.

When the weather is right, Chorman and his pilots may be working sunrise to sunset, up to 100 hours per week at peak times. A 12-hour day isn’t unusual for Chorman and his team. But today’s airplanes accommodate the pilots much better than those of the old days. Open cockpits, biplanes with lousy visibility, and temperamental radial engines have given way to turbine power and reliability, air conditioning, and superb guidance methods to ensure the minimal amount of product is placed exactly where it needs to be.

Ag operations are good homes for those thinking of becoming an airframe and powerplant technician too. These airplanes don’t make money unless they’re flying, which makes good mechanics crucial to the operation. Chorman has six full-time mechanics that work in a huge, air-conditioned hangar. “We spare no expense on maintenance,” Chorman said.

If you’re a pilot who likes to work alone and prefers to live in a rural environment, aerial application may be a good alternative to the more traditional airline/corporate piloting gigs.

Peter A. Bedell is a pilot for a major airline and co-owner of a Cessna 172 and Beechcraft Baron.