Aviation Safety

Briefing a passenger, as the FARs require, can be as elaborate as an airline-style event or as simple as, “Don’t touch anything.” Somewhere between the two extremes is the happy medium many of us employ when flying with non-pilots. I recently learned the hard way how presuming a person who is competent outside the airplane isn’t necessarily as good as when seated in it. I also have to share some blame for this event.

The nosegear collapsed on landing. The nosegear actuator was removed and tested in a controlled environment. When the actuator was cold-soaked, the microswitch (p/n 1CH16) failed to activate properly, giving a false indication the gear was down and locked. Due to gear failure, both aircraft propellers struck the ground, causing sudden stoppage to the engines. The aircraft also suffered structural damage to the nose section.

It has been said that every approach to a landing—whether from the VFR traffic pattern or an ILS, and everything in between, should be treated as a a go-around situation. If conditions are conducive to actually, you know, landing, then by all means do so. But be prepared—spring-loaded, some advise—to execute a go-around balked landing or rejected landing, whatever the term du jour is. That’s all well and good, but there are two problems. The first is determining when to go around. The other and larger problem is what happens when pilots make that decision. Sadly, they often mishandle the maneuver and wind up in the weeds next to the runway or prang it onto the pavement just past the threshold.

It really only takes three things to make our piston engines go: air, fuel and, of course, a spark to set things burning and those pistons churning. We, the pilots, are responsible for making sure our engines have enough fuel to mix with air (and enough air, for that matter) to make it all burn. We pretty much know where the air and fuel come from, but what about that spark? The answer is an engineering marvel, but an ancient one. As pilots in the 21st century, more than 100 (nearly 110!) years after the invention of the first flying aircraft engine, we rely, amazingly, on nearly the same technology to generate spark today as did the Wright Brothers.

On October 12, 1997, popular musician John Denver flew his new-to-him LongEZ into the Pacific Ocean off Monterey, Calif. He died on impact with the water. According to the NTSB, “witnesses saw the airplane in straight and level flight about 350 to 500 feet over a residential area, then they heard a reduction of engine noise. The airplane was seen to pitch slightly nose up; then it banked sharply to the right [and] descended nose first into the ocean.” The probable cause statement included, “…the pilot’s diversion of attention from the operation of the airplane and his inadvertent application of right rudder that resulted in the loss of airplane control while attempting to manipulate the fuel selector handle.” The distraction of reaching and repositioning the airplane’s fuel selector led to the distraction.

Your retrospective on the VOR (“The Day The Waypoints Died,” April 2012) was of interest in a reverse sort of way. I’m one of a few horse-and-buggy types who navigate by map-reading and compass alone, using VORs occasionally as a backup to map reading as opposed to a backup for GPS. I just returned from a VFR trip in a Cessna 182 from British Columbia to San Francisco, then to Palm Springs, Lake Havasu, Las Vegas and back through eastern Nevada and Idaho, using lines drawn on two WAC charts (CF 16 and CF 18) and a protractor for heading. Does anyone still fly to see the country as displayed on a sectional—lakes, rivers, mountains and valleys? I’ve always thought that the journey, not just the destination, was half the fun.

As we were putting the finishing touches on this issue, the NTSB announced it would be holding a two-day forum next month, “focused on safety issues related to general aviation.” The event is scheduled for June 19 and 20, at the NTSB’s Board Room and Conference Center in Washington, D.C. The forum is open to the public, free of charge and may be viewed live via Webcast on the board’s Web site, www.ntsb.gov.

At about 1340 Eastern time, the airplane was substantially damaged following a collision with water. The private pilot and passenger were fatally injured. Instrument conditions prevailed; no flight plan was filed. The pilot departed VFR and climbed to approximately 2000 feet. The airplane was observed on radar for approximately two minutes before descending to 1800 feet. Witnesses heard the airplane flying overhead but did not see it due to heavy fog. Shortly, they heard a loud splash in the lake and saw a large spray of water.

The airplane was substantially damaged during a forced landing to a field at about 1430 Eastern time following a total loss of engine power. The private pilot and passenger were seriously injured. Visual conditions prevailed. The pilot subsequently reported the airplane was in cruise flight at 5000 feet msl when it experienced a total loss of engine power. The pilot attempted to glide to a field; however, during the landing, the airplane struck a fence and trees. A post-crash fire consumed a majority of the wreckage.

At about 2154 Alaska time, the airplane sustained minor damage while landing at the conclusion of an aeromedical flight conducted under FAR 135. None of the six people aboard, including the airline transport pilot or commercial pilot, reported any injuries. Dark night visual conditions prevailed. It was the first-officer’s leg. As the flight descended below clouds, the pilots discovered that the first officer’s windscreen was entirely covered with ice, and she would be unable to continue the approach. The captain’s windscreen was partially covered with ice, but he could see the runway environment and took control of the airplane.