Someone once told me that aircraft accidents happen every 5,000 hours during a pilot’s flying career. Well, mine came at 6,000 hours rather than 5,000. I have been flying small airplanes and helicopters since I was a teenager. My life has been pretty much the epitome of “will fly for food.” Stints as a police helicopter pilot, National Park Service floatplane pilot, aerial survey pilot, traffic-watch pilot, helicopter tour pilot and flight instructor have satisfied my flying addiction (albeit not all of my bills) over the years.
On June 14, 2008, I was loving life, using my day off from my regular job as a police sergeant to fly a Robinson R44 helicopter for a Los Angeles-based helicopter tour company. Showing the canyons and shorelines of Southern California to excited tourists was (and is) one of my favorite types of flying. The enthusiasm of folks enjoying their vacation, and often their first flight in a helicopter, is infectious. Every tour flight is fun.
The flight in question departed Whiteman Airport at 6:45 p.m. This was my fourth and last flight of the day. My clients were a wonderful young couple from the United Kingdom. After receiving a weather briefing and preflighting the helicopter, I brought the passengers aboard and gave them a safety briefing. Their excitement was palpable, as both told me this would be their first flight in a helicopter.
Departing Whiteman to the west, I said “so long” to my friends at Whiteman tower, climbed to 1,300 feet mean sea level and contacted Van Nuys’ tower. After crossing Van Nuys’ midfield, I turned southwest, climbed and began providing a tour narration to my guests. The visibility was great: no turbulence, not a cloud in the sky and very light winds. As I began transitioning over the Santa Monica Mountains, I remember pointing out the first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean to my English guests.
That is when it happened: A huge bang emanated from the rear of the helicopter, followed by a violent, uncommanded right yawing motion. Instinctively applying left pedal, I instantly realized that the pedals no longer had any effect on the aircraft. I have often heard that time seems to slow for a person exposed to extreme danger. I can now attest to the accuracy of that statement. Although the entire event lasted probably less than 30 seconds, it seemed much longer.
I distinctly remember realizing that I had experienced a tail-rotor failure, entering autorotation and looking for a place to land the helicopter. The terrain in front of the aircraft was not suitable for a landing, so I began a right turn, searching for a spot. At 180 degrees into the turn, I saw a ridge-top trail and small clearing. Aiming for the spot, I flared and pulled in collective to cushion the set-down. As the helicopter began to rotate right (due to the reintroduced torque), I rolled off the throttle, and the aircraft touched down. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of lift that the aircraft was able to develop at the termination of the autorotation.
Impacting a sloped hillside, the aircraft rolled and came to rest on its right side. The noise and movement made by the main rotor striking the hillside was, to say the least, dramatic. Thankfully, neither my passengers nor me was injured. We climbed out the port side of the aircraft and hiked down to the nearest house.
The National Transportation Safety Board is still conducting its investigation. The lead investigator has determined that the entire tail-rotor assembly, including the tail-rotor gearbox, departed from the aircraft in flight. Theories include a bird strike or a catastrophic failure of some component of the tail-rotor assembly. Unfortunately, the majority of the tail-rotor assembly has not been located, adding to the difficulty in determining the exact cause.
The accident emphasized to me the critical importance of regular emergency procedures training. I had recently completed the excellent Robinson Helicopter Co. Safety Course, which included both extensive ground and flight training. I completed numerous autorotations during the course, including a full-down auto-rotation to the runway at Torrance Airport. In addition, I had three helicopter students at the time and had performed or supervised dozens of autorotations during their training. There’s no doubt in my mind that remaining current on emergency procedures made the difference.
