It had all of the elements of a romantic sunset flight.  Sadly, it also had the makings for disaster!  It was just after sunset on April 12, 2005 near Palm Beach, Florida.  The moon was waxing crescent with 15 percent of the moon's visible disk illuminated.  The surrounding terrain was flat, featureless and consisted of new growth sugar cane.  

The pilot had received his pilot certificate just three months earlier from a Florida flight school and had completed 30 hours toward his instrument rating.  He was flying a Beech A-36 Bonanza.

With the setting of the sun, this VFR pilot suffered an insidious loss of horizon.  The dark sea to the east, featureless sugar cane fields to the west, and nearly no moon to help illuminate the darkness of night obscured any semblance of a horizon.

The winds were from 170 degrees (true) at 11 knots; visibility 10 statute miles; a few clouds at 4,000 feet; scattered clouds at 25,000 feet; temperature 23 degrees C; dew point 18 degrees C; altimeter 29.87 inches.

Was it VFR or IFR???

In the unlikely event that we have pilots lacking a genuine respect for thunderstorms, below are a couple photos of what happened to BAX Global flight 705BX last week over Alberta, Canada.

The B-727 was cruising at 35,000 feet when it encountered tennis ball sized hail.  All landing lights were destroyed, as was the radar. The crew was forced to make a "blind" emergency landing.

Upon safe return to the ground the first officer and flight engineer were rumored to have quit the company!  It is expected that the aircraft is a total loss as its structural integrity has been compromised.
 

The aviation textbooks recommend that active thunderstorms be given a 25 mile wide margin of safety.  These photos provide excellent evidence of what can result from hail being tossed out of a thunderstorm!

Thanks to B-747 captain Dan Maloney of Clarence, NY for sharing these photos with OTA.
 

Given the fact that we continue to experience one fatal stall/spin accident per week in the United States, it would seem reasonable that a good many of us could benefit from a refresher course on the variability of stalls and resultant spins.

The sad but likely true problem is that few private pilots are given anything more than a rudimentary understanding of stalls.  Their hapless instructors take them out to the practice area to learn about stalls.  The airplane is slowed (after clearing turns, of course), the nose is allowed to pitch up until the stall warning horn sounds, then the CFI pushes the nose over and recovers the airplane.

"See, Mary, that was a stall," says the CFI proudly before turning the controls over to the student.

Mary then dutifully repeats the exercise all by herself as the CFI observes.  She slows the airplane, pitches up until the stall horn sounds, then she pitches the nose over and smiles.  "I did it," she says.  Her CFI is proud.  

That's it . . . a couple of anemic incipient stall entries.  It is little wonder why we continue to experience fatal stall/spin accidents each week!

The truth about stalls

There are two basic truths about stalls that every pilot should know.  These are:

1. An aircraft can stall at ANY airspeed within the limits of its structure.

2. Stall speed increases in proportion to the square root of the load factor.

Exceeding the wings critical angle of attack, which results in a stall, can occur at any airspeed.  In a high speed dive, for example, a sudden pull up can easily exceed the wing's critical angle of attack. 

When a sufficiently high angle of attack is imposed, the smooth flow of air over an airfoil breaks up and separates, producing an abrupt change of flight characteristics and a sudden loss of lift, which results in a stall.

A more insidious form of stall occurs when the aircraft is banking.  As it banks, its weight and the weight of its payload increases due to the combined effect of gravity and centrifugal force.  For example, the load factor for any airplane in a 60° bank, is 2 G’s. The load factor in an 80° bank is 5.76 G’s.

This means that an airplane with a normal unaccelerated stalling speed of 50 knots can be stalled at 100 knots by inducing a load factor of 4 G’s.  If it were possible for this airplane to withstand a load factor of 9, it could be stalled at a speed of 150 knots.

Let's look at another example.  If we bank an airplane to just beyond 72° in a steep turn, the resultant load factor is 3.   If this turn is made in an airplane with a normal unaccelerated stalling speed of 45 knots, the airspeed must be kept above 75 knots to prevent inducing a stall.

Mary allows her airspeed to drop to 60 knots in the turn as she pitches up to regain lost altitude.  Her outboard wing (right wing) experiences more induced drag (from lift) and parasitic drag (from the lowered right aileron). 

Wham!  Her right wing instantly drops out from under her . . . and that's the end of Mary.  

What happened?

As every primary student knows, big airplanes throw off wingtip vortices or wake turbulence at sufficient strength to put trailing airplanes into uncommanded 360 degrees rolls.  When this happens close to the ground, these events are largely unrecoverable.  These vortices can also produce significant airframe and control surface damage as well.

Vortex Generation

Lift results from the pressure differential over the wing surface.  Low pressure occurs above the upper wing surface and high pressure occurs under the wing. 

This pressure differential triggers the rollup of the airflow aft of the wing resulting in swirling air masses trailing downstream of the wingtips.

After the rollup is completed, the wake consists of two counter-rotating cylindrical vortices.   Most of the energy is within a few feet of the center of each vortex but can extend 100 feet or more beyond the vortex core.

The strength of these vortices is governed by the weight, speed, and shape of the wing of the generating aircraft.  These vortices are also influenced by the extension of flaps or other wing configuration devices as well as by a change in speed.  The greatest vortex strength occurs when the generating aircraft is heavy, clean, and slow.

Vortices are generated from the moment an aircraft leaves the ground.  The vortices circulate outward, upward, and around the wingtips when viewed from either ahead or behind the aircraft.  Wind tunnel tests have shown that vortices remain spaced a bit less than a wingspan apart, drifting with the wind, at altitudes greater than a wingspan from the ground. 

These tests have also shown that the vortices sink at a rate of several hundred feet per minute, slowing their descent and diminishing in strength with time and distance behind the generating aircraft.

When the vortices of larger aircraft sink close to the ground (within 100 to 200 feet), they tend to move laterally over the ground at a speed of 2 or 3 knots. A crosswind will decrease the lateral movement of the upwind vortex and increase the movement of the downwind vortex. A tailwind condition can move the vortices of the preceding aircraft forward into the touchdown zone.

Wake Turbulence Mantra

This refers to our rotation and touch down points.  When taking off behind a heavy aircraft, reach your rotation point before the rotation point of the larger aircraft.  Similarly, when landing behind a heavy aircraft, touch down beyond where the heavy aircraft touched down.

Meet new private pilot, Jay Rolls, of Atlanta, GA pictured here with his instructor, Landon "Doc" Harkins.

In his other life, Jay is a vice president of engineering at Cox Communications, and along with his wife Terri, are proud parents of five year old twins.  Jay set out last year to earn his Private Pilot in 6 to 12 months and achieved that last week with the successful completion of his PP-ASEL checkride.

Good going, Jay.  And thanks for the OTA help!

Here is another regrettable photo of the fatal Avenger/RV6 mishap at Oshkosh last month.  We do not see taxiing B-747s overtaking commuter jets in commercial operations.  Why does this stuff happen in the GA world?

Distractions are something we all experience.  A passenger asks a question;  ATC calls us at the wrong time;  we have to scratch our neck (or something else).  The end result is a momentary lapse of attention and disaster results.

Like our big brother airline crews, we GA pilots should adopt the "sterile cockpit" rule in our operations.  From start-up to cruise altitude, then again from initiating the descent to engine shut-down, there should be NO cockpit conversation unrelated to the conduct of the flight.

A cautionary word about when ATC calls

Unless ATC is giving us an urgent traffic conflict call, our job is to (1) aviate; (2) navigate, then . . . when everything else is done, (3) communicate.  Let's NOT let an ATC call interrupt what we are doing.  Be certain everything is under control BEFORE you push the transmit button in response to an ATC call.  If a controller gets annoyed by your delayed response, tell him you were on the land line!

Few things are more discouraging to us pilots than to come out to the airport and discover that it is "too windy" to fly.  We see the windsock fully extended and the reported winds to blowing at 18 knots with gusts up to 25 knots.  Close up the hangar doors.  Too windy to fly today.   Right?  Maybe not!

It is even more frustrating to primary and instrument flight students who show up for their lesson only to find that the flight school or CFI says it's "too windy" to fly.  And off to the classroom or simulator they go.  The hapless student loses yet another opportunity to learn and master crosswind operations.

Study the Wind Chart!

The first thing to keep in mind is that winds are relative.  If they are blowing right down the runway or somewhere close to the runway heading, winds present little, if any, risk to the pilot. 

Actually, the only challenge such winds pose occur during the taxi phase to the active runway.

Having a crosswind component chart handy is a "must" for any pilot operating in high winds.  Remember, it is the crosswind component, not the actual winds, that determines the risk of flight on a windy day!

Far too many pilots have too little crosswind training and experience.  If your CFI or flight school cancels training when the winds kick up a bit, discuss your concerns with them.    If they will not prepare you for crosswind operations, who will?

Lots of things go into selecting the perfect airplane.  Some pilots go for speed, others go for "ramp appeal," some go for price, and others go for load carrying capacity.  For my wife, Jo, it's color!

For Kelly Brannen of Williamsville, NY, it was mission, mission, mission.  Like all wise aircraft shoppers, Kelly first decided WHAT he wanted his planned airplane to do.  For him, it was a combination of business and personal cross-country travel throughout the northeast, much of it during the rugged winter months.   Six seats were too many, two seats were too few.

He required turbocharging to get above the weather, a TKS anti-icing package to get down through the ice (just in case), a full glass cockpit (Garmin G1000), with traffic and terrain avoidance, uplinked weather and XM music (for those long, lonely flights home).

Kelly is also a low time pilot in the midst of his instrument training.  He wisely realized that a high performance, glass composite airplane was more than he can handle at this time.

Kelly stands well over six feet tall (pictured left below, with me, right in front of his new T-182).  So cabin size, particularly hip, shoulder and leg room, was a major consideration.

Kelly spent months looking at new and used airplanes, studying the strengths and weaknesses of each.  Price (both new and re-sale), operating costs, and insurance were major factors in Kelly's decision-making process.  Ultimately, he decided upon a new Cessna Turbo 182.  For him, the T-182 made the most sense.

Once he made up his mind, Kelly cut a deal with Louie Nalbone, owner of Dunkirk Aircraft Sales and Service in Dunkirk, NY.  Louie took Kelly's Piper Archer in trade and fast-tracked delivery of the new C-182 in first class fashion. 

Selecting and purchasing the right airplane for you requires that you first decide on its primary mission.  Once that's completed, then do your homework!

Take an otherwise highly maneuverable airplane like a 1973 Bellanca 7GCBC and stand it on its tail just a few hundred feet above the ground.  The results are predictable!

This day started out as a demonstration of bush flying by a 127 hour pilot during a family outing.  The demonstration included short field takeoffs and landings along a river.  It ended in a fatal tragedy!

According to witnesses, the accident airplane was observed flying level about 600-800 feet above the trees, when it started an abrupt, near vertical climb, and then spiraled straight down, impacting in trees beyond the river's edge.
 

What went wrong here?

One need not be a senior NTSB accident investigator to conclude what happened here.  A low time pilot pushes the operational envelope limits of his airplane close to the ground.  In this case, the observed vertical climb resulted in a stall some 600 to 800 feet above the trees.  So far, no real problem.

The problem that resulted in the pilot's death was likely an improper stall recovery.  Rather than keeping his wings level with rudder, the pilot allowed the airplane to yaw which, in turn, resulted in a predictable spin.  When such spins occur close to the ground, there is not enough time or altitude to safely recover.

Remember the early days when desktop computers first emerged on the scene.  We struggled with factory prepared manuals, authored by technicians instead of end-users like you and me?  Fortunately, much has improved in the computer industry and our avionics factories are doing a much better job of teaching us how to operate their products.

We still do it better!

Like many of you, I have struggled through nearly every new cockpit technology in the past 30 years.  And I am still convinced that we end-users do a better job at writing the training manuals than the factory. 

Take Garmin's new G1000 glass cockpit, for example.  This is the most sophisticated, most powerful suite of avionics ever designed for the GA airplane.  When it works . . . it is magnificent.  Fortunately, it works 99.9% of the time. 

But what happens when a glitch occurs, at the worst possible time?  A frozen screen as we pass over the outer marker inbound in the clag - that's when we wish we were G1000 power users.  That's when we wished we had read Max Trescott's G1000 Glass Cockpit Handbook!   I've read it . . . and it's worth every penny.

If you are flying a G1000 equipped aircraft, you need to read this book.  You can order it HERE.  And if you are interested in taking an online course, click HERE.

Every primary student has heard about maneuvering speed or Va speed.  We know it is the indicated airspeed that we reduce to whenever penetrating rough or turbulent air or when initiating any performance maneuvers. 

But what is it, really?  What does it really mean?

In the most simplistic terms, Va is the maximum speed at which sudden control movements and/or turbulent bumbs will cause the airplane to stall before doing any structural damage to the airframe or control surfaces.

Take a look at the Vg (velocity vs. g loads) diagram below. The lines of maximum lift capability (curved red lines) are the first items of importance on the Vg diagram.

The subject airplane in the illustration is capable of developing no more than one positive “g” at 62m.p.h., the wing level stall speed of the airplane.   Since the maximum load factor varies with the square of the airspeed, the maximum positive lift capability of this airplane is 2 “g” at 92 m.p.h., 3 “g” at 112 m.p.h., 4.4 “g” at 137 m.p.h., and so forth.

Any load factor above this line is unavailable aerodynamically;  i.e., the subject airplane cannot fly above the line of maximum lift capability.  It will stall.

Essentially the same situation exists for negative lift flight with the exception that the speed necessary to produce a given negative load factor is higher than that to produce the same positive load factor.

As mentioned above, maneuvering speed or Va is the maximum speed that an airplane can fly where sudden control inputs or turbulent air are able to produce a G loading greater than the load limit shown in the table above.

Remember, the Vg diagram developed for any airplane is based upon maximum gross weight.  Any overloading of the aircraft places excessive stresses on the airplane.  For example, a 100 pound overload adds 380 pounds of excess stress when the airplane is operating at its normal category 3.8 G limit! 

This excess weight, when placed anywhere other than directly over the CG (center of gravity) of the airplane has a compounding effect (excess weight x 3.8) on weight and balance considerations.  Thus, if you are tempted to overload your aircraft (which, of course, you should NEVER do), keep you CG as close to the center of your loading diagram as possible.

In summary, maneuvering speed or Va is a very important number, particularly when conducting performance maneuvers or when flying in turbulent air. 

Learning to fly is difficult and for high achievers like eye surgeon, Dan Schaefer, MD from Buffalo, NY (standing right in the photo below), it can be very intimidating!  But Dan persisted and passed his private pilot checkride this past week. 

Appreciative of his noteworthy accomplishment and the instruction he had received, Dan and his wife, Marlene (sitting right) took me and my wife, Jo (standing/sitting left) to dinner at Western New York's premier steak house, the Buffalo Chophouse in downtown Buffalo, NY.  

The Buffalo Chophouse is owned by another of my former students, Mark Croce (standing center), a Cirrus SR22 and Robinson R44 helicopter owner.  After a delicious dinner, we partied over at the Buckin' Buffalo Saloon, also owned by Mark Croce.

Celebrating the a new pilot certificate, rating, or aircraft purchase has become standard practice here in Buffalo, NY.  Great going, Dan.  We pilots love a party!

Buffalo, NY, like much of the nation, has had a remarkable string of good weather.  Clear skies, warm temperatures, and gentle winds.  It has been ideal weather for everybody except instrument students!

Rather than cancel instrument training when the weather is CAVU (clear and visibility unlimited), CFII's have had no choice but to simulate nature's ugly side.  We use various shapes of view limiting devices that do a very poor job of limiting the view.  One peek at the wet compass (to align the DG . . . hmmmm) and the whole outside world is exposed to the hapless student. 

Or we sit this same student down in front of a desk top computer with the simulated images of the panel.   He or she is told to believe that this table, chair, and computer screen is REALLY what it is like to be descending down through  dark, turbulent skies to just 200 feet above the ground.

But if that is all we have to work with on sunny days,  let's use it.

A warm front passes - the ceiling is down to 500' AGL and it's raining.

A wonderful thing happened this past week here in Western New York.  A warm front created ideal instrument training conditions.  A broken ceiling at 500' AGL and an overcast layer at 1,200' AGL.  Tops were well above 10,000'.  There were no thunderstorms within 200 miles.  Winds were light and variable.

When my instrument student and I took off that day I expected the local instrument approach procedures to be busy with students and IFR pilots practicing approaches.  I was wrong.

The training aircraft in one local flight school remained nested securely in their hangars.  The school's flight simulator, however, was just as busy at it was on sunny days!   I thought to myself, "There is something definitely wrong with this picture!"

Has all instrument training been reduced to simulator and hood work?  Has the flight training community been convinced that the vagaries of nature can really be simulated . . . and that's the only way instrument flight can be safely taught?

Nature had blessed Buffalo with a tremendous IFR learning opportunity this past week and my instructor colleagues remained planted in their flight simulators!   Yes . . . there was something terribly wrong with this picture.

I wondered about the rest of my GA pilot friends.  Over 1/2 of them have instrument ratings.  One would have expected to hear at least a few of them on the radio shooting instrument approaches.  I logged over 5.5 hours of flight training that day.  With few exceptions, the radio chatter I heard between Buffalo and Rochester was from the airline and corporate guys.  

The good, bad, and dangerous weather

There are three types of weather.   The first type is GOOD weather.  Clear skies, unlimited visibility, and light winds.

The second type is bad weather.  The ceiling is down to 200'AGL, visibility is 1/2 mile, and the winds are blowing at 15 knots with gusts to 23 with no associated thunderstorms or below freezing temperatures.

The third type is dangerous weather.  This is the weather that posses a serious risk to all aircraft.  Thunderstorms, icing, freezing rain, and extreme turbulence are the main players in the dangerous weather category.

When people pay good money to earn an instrument rating, they quite reasonably expect to be taught to become proficient in good and bad weather (as defined above).   They also quite reasonably expect NOT to fly in dangerous weather (again, as defined above).

The sad truth . . .

The sad truth is that, for the most part, only GOOD weather training is being provided in airplanes.  With few exceptions, bad weather training has been reduced to feeble simulations, e.g., hood work and simulators. 

In short, bad weather training in airplanes does not appear to be happening very often, leastwise here in Western New York.

Curiously, the number ONE contributing factor in most fatal GA accidents is bad weather.  Connect the dots.

If we are instrument rated and have either not been trained in bad weather (as defined above) or we have not flown recently in bad weather (again as defined above), we would be well advised to RETIRE our instrument ticket until we receive proper weather training. 

NOTE:  Proper weather training does NOT incorporate view limiting devices and GA flight simulators!  Believing or promoting otherwise is a serious self-deception.

While the word "currency" might make us think of the money we pay to fly our airplanes, its meaning here refers to the "time" between flights.  

IF there is one factor other than training that explains why the general aviation fatal accident rate is 100 times greater than the airlines, it is the level of GA pilot currency. 

A typical airline pilot is aloft between 900 and 1,000 hours a year.  The average GA pilot, according to some estimates (Plane and Pilot Magazine, September, 2006), is aloft only 35 hours a year!!

Sure . . . much of that airline guy's time is spent watching the other guy and the autopilot work, reading a crumpled newspaper, and (gasp!) catching a wink or two.  Nevertheless, he or she is in system three, four, or five times a week.

35 hours per year . . . yikes!

Imagine, 35 hours per year.  That's equivalent to about 40 minutes a week!  If some of those 35 hours are spent in a couple of four or five hour round trip cross-country flights and fair weather summertime flying only, literally months could go by between flights!  And we have big GA organizations telling us that general aviation is getting safer year after year.  Go figure!

While big gaps in VFR flying can be problematic, similar big gaps in IFR flight can be deadly!  There is nothing in this world as fragile as instrument flying skills!  Two weeks between flying on the gauges can leave a low-time instrument pilot dangerously behind the aircraft.

What a busy flight instructor sees!

Aloft between 80 and 100 hours a month gives a busy flight instructor like me a unique opportunity to see what the lack of currency does to pilot skills. 

Whether it is an aircraft checkout, a biennial flight review (BFR), instrument proficiency check (IPC), or simply a returning flight student, I get to see first hand what the passage of time does to a pilot's airman skills.    For the most part, it is pretty scary!

My experience suggests that serious VFR proficiency gaps become evident any time more than 60 days pass between flights.  Dangerous IFR skill gaps are often observed with the passage of just a couple of weeks between gauge-only flights, particularly for low time instrument pilots.

Examples of these skill gaps for IFR rated pilots include momentary confusion in negotiating assigned holds, inability to maintain simultaneous heading and altitude, failure to stabilize the localizer/glideslope needles inside the final approach fix, and descending below the decision height (DH) or minimum descent altitude (MDA).  They are killer items! 

How do we define the proficient pilot?

Answer:  Simple!  VFR pilots . . . if you believe you would have difficulty passing the private pilot oral and checkride today, you may not be deemed proficient. 

IFR pilots . . . if you think you would have difficulty passing the instrument pilot oral and checkride, you are not only non-proficient, you're dangerous to both you and to others in the sky!!

Each of the rating orals and checkrides are the minimum standard of proficiency.  If you were still in high school, consider them as achieving a "D" or "65%".  You passed, but that's it.  If you couldn't achieve a passing score on your private or instrument checkride today, beware!

But . . .

But if you can only give 35 hours a year to flying, here's what Plane and Pilot Magazine (September, 2006) suggests you do:

Other than recurrent training, the one single thing we can do to minimize our risks aloft is to fly often.  The more often, the better.  Sure, fuel prices are hurting us badly.  The more these prices keep us on the ground, the greater risks we incur when we fly.

The bottom line is . . . . fly often, or consider folding your wings.  The price of non-proficiency is quite often death.  No sugar coating, positive spin here.