Aviation Safety

At about 1130 Eastern time, a Piper Cherokee Six and a Piper Dakota were substantially damaged when they collided in mid-air about five nautical miles north of the Ply-mouth Municipal Airport (PMZ). The private pilot aboard the Cherokee Six and the private pilot in the Dakota suffered minor injuries. Both airplanes were operating in visual conditions. The Cherokee Six pilot was practicing the GPS Runway 21 approach, using the autopilot. The Dakota pilot was inbound to PMZ and navigating via GPS.

The airplane was destroyed when it impacted flat terrain at an unknown time, killing the solo pilot. Visual conditions prevailed. The flight was to test a retractable tailwheel installed on the airplane. It was a flight of two, with a friend of the pilots flying behind to observe the tailwheel operation. The second pilot reported nothing unusual was noted with the flight until he observed the accident airplane flying “erratically.” He attempted to raise the accident pilot on the radio, but received no response.

Weve all struggled with it at some point. Maybe as a student you kept neglecting to add power when leveling off after a descent, or perhaps you couldnt quite grasp whether to pull back or push forward. Im currently helping a friend of mine teach a primary student to fly. Our student is really struggling to get a clear handle on how all this fits together. After I suggested some additional study and reading that didnt produce the desired “Aha!” moment, I came up with a few new ways to try to get the concepts across. Figuring it never hurts to review the basics, perhaps this might help you or someone you know gain a better understanding of the sometimes subtle effects that even small changes in power or pitch can have on altitude and airspeed. This better understanding may help a VFR pilot simply maintain better control of their aircraft. It might even help an old pro keep the needles glued to the center. Well look at examples of both.

Most turbine airplanes have three-screen panels, with a PFD for both front seats. In the event the pilots-side PFD dies he/she is expected to continue using the PFD on the other side of the airplane, although the option of manually selecting PFD information on the center screen always exists as well. Pilots brought up flying traditional round-gauge IFR might not even consider the reversionary mode to be “partial panel” at all. This valuable feature makes partial panel flying easy…if the partial panel results from failure of the PFD hardware. Because it is an important advance in ease of flight in the case of primary flight instrument failure (i.e., those directly in front of the pilot), it gets top billing as a safety advantage of glass cockpit airplanes. Except for a little parallax (viewing the instrument from the side, not head-on) everything is exactly as it normally appears for the partial-panel flyer, and all functions (including the autopilot) remain fully operable. The biggest difference is that large-scale moving map, engine and fuel management, checklists, charts and other functions are relegated to a small window in the corner of the most recent-model MFDs when in reversionary mode, and are not available at all in some earlier installations. Pilots who grow too dependent on these functions, or who eschew paper checklists and navigational charts in favor of electronic versions on the “big screen” will find themselves outside their comfort zones in the event of a PFD hardware failure.

According to Darwinian Theory, species that do more than survive and actually thrive tend to be the ones best able to adapt to their circumstances. Transferring that perspective from biology to aviation, we can see a direct parallel: The best pilots adapt to their situation-or conditions-depending on the circumstance. Got a forecast for Level 4 or 5 weather along the route? We adapt by making a decision, maybe go around the turmoil, maybe wait for a better day. Runways are a good example. If the runway we need is the one weve got, we cant automatically say, “Not going.” Delaying the trip may still be the only smart response. But often, the best response is to adapt. Wet runways, icy runways, snow, slush, slopes, peaks and lengths all complicate the published runway-performance numbers for a given airplane. And all are generally surmountable, as long as the pilot-in-command knows how and why to adapt to the variables. Lets take a look at considerations for a sloping runway, regardless of which direction. For example, we know that managing our approach speed is critical to a good outcome. But adapting to a downhill-sloping runway requires more of us than accurate speed control; it also requires us to be as slow as we can get away with, and that we touch down as close to the threshold as possible. Heres what happens if were too fast when flying a generic airplane, according to a presentation by Sam Harris of V1 Aviation Training LLC: If your approach speed is five percent high, your landing distance can increase by 10 percent. For every degree of downhill slope, count on an increase in landing distance of 200 feet.

We have a love-hate relationship with cockpit gadgets. On one hand, were strongly in favor of anything that simplifies aviating, navigating and communicating. On the other hand, weve too often seen people get caught up trying to make the gadget work while ignoring the airplane. In the end, we (and our wallets) always have yearned for some kind of inexpensive all-in-one magic box to simplify cockpit chores. Garmins latest GPS portable, the GPSMAP 696, comes about as close as weve seen. Its not perfect, its definitely not cheap and it occupies a lot of space in what might be cramped quarters, but the sheer volume of features and the ease with which they can be accessed pretty much demand anyone shopping for a portable GPS navigator take a close look at the 696. Moreover, having one of these in the cockpit might save what otherwise could be a very bad day. Lets look at what those safety features are and how they work.

Altitude is your friend.” So says a common clich instructors and old-timers pilots drill into their less-experienced contemporaries. The idea-especially when considering failure of a single-engine airplanes powerplant-is greater altitude affords more time to find and glide to a suitable landing area. But having plenty of altitude isnt always a good thing. Its not a good thing when were on fire, for sure, nor is it a good thing on final to a short runway. In those instances, it can be said we have too much altitude. Another occasion when we can have too much of a good thing is on an instrument approach in for-real conditions. Approach procedures are predicated on being in such-and-such position at so-and-so altitude, then flying a measured distance, perhaps descending to another altitude, where a runway magically appears through the mist. At least thats what we tell passengers unfamiliar with the concept. The basic idea of an instrument approach sometimes is misinterpreted, however. We arent trying to get as low as we can; instead, were trying to fly along a prescribed path and altitude, arriving at a point in space from which a relatively normal landing can be made. Too high, and we may not see the runway environment at the right time. Too low, and we may hit something before we have a chance to land on the runway. The latter is far worse than the former.

The left engine was cutting out but youve kept it running with the aux pump. Weather at the big airport, 15 miles from your destination, has been dropping slowly; its down to 500 feet overcast and a mile visibility, which just happens to be the published minimums for both of the approaches into Homeplate Regional, where you base your light twin. The couple in the back seat had been fighting about him drinking vodka from the bottle for the first hour of the trip, but once he passed out, things quieted down. Just as ATC gives you the clearance for a lower altitude, the rains intensity goes from light to firehose and the left engine again demands attention. Full rich mixture smooths it out. A moment later the remaining conscious passenger in the back seat announces her water has broken and shes in labor. Your right seat passenger asks if youre going to declare an emergency and shoot the ILS into the big airport. “No way,” you reply, visions of John Wayne, Chuck Yeager and The Right Stuff in your mind as you turn to focus your steely, glinting baby blues on him. “Im not filling out all that paperwork; Ill just make sure were number one for the approach into Homeplate.” Over the next 10 minutes the mother-to-be in the rear seat makes increasingly vocal announcements regarding contractions at regular and diminishing intervals, and when you make a power reduction as you near the final approach fix the left engine resumes its misbehavior.

The end of autumn and beginning of winter in North America is always an unsettled time. That Thanksgiving Day falls squarely in this stretch of shortened days is one of those good news/bad news things. Its good to get a break, and renew associations with friends and family. Its bad because I eat too much. Its also bad because the weather can be so unpredictable-almost winter, but not really. On more than one occasion, Ive been lulled into a false sense of security with benign weather on my flight preceding the holiday, changing to apocalyptic just about the time I want to depart for home. Too, each year, a few of us find a way to bend sheet metal-or worse-during the last few days of November. This year was no different. My flight before the holiday was about as serene as could be. Widespread high pressure blew away all clouds along my route, providing smooth air, bright sunshine and just a hint of headwind. By staying in the southeast, I thought, Id avoid the bad stuff possible in other areas. Checking weather for the return, I discovered I wasnt immune.

I enjoyed Decembers article on tips to manage the workload of single pilot IFR flight (“Six SPIFR Tips”). One thing I think is often overlooked on this topic is the distinction between single-pilot and solo-pilot IFR operations. I use my plane for business and Angel Flight operations in the northeast, which presents the opportunity and need for a considerable number of LIFR flights into Class B airports. On most occasions (obviously excepting Angel Flights), I fly not only SPIFR, but solo operations. My observation is, from a safety standpoint, I would rather fly solo in demanding conditions than with non-IFR rated passengers. Why? Simply because inexperienced passengers can be distracting and unpredictable. When flying a SPIFR approach, one needs to find time for a passenger briefing amidst all the other approach chores. And even then, Ive come to expect the unexpected: passengers waving a hand in my face after breaking out to point out an airliner on parallel final as Im establishing my crosswind crab angle, reading back my landing clearance and keeping my speed below VLE.