Search Results for: general aviation inc

Its said we learn to make good decisions by experience, and that experience results from making bad decisions. The flaw in this plan is that in flying, bad decisions can have awful consequences. How can we learn to make good flying decisions without exposing ourselves and our passengers to undue risk? What are we as an industry doing wrong, that pilots regularly make such poor decisions about safety of flight? After all, as much as 80 percent of all aircraft mishaps result from a chain of poor decisions on the part of the pilot, with actual mechanical issues being secondary if they indeed are a factor at all. I think whats going on is the whole culture of how we “learn to fly.”

When engineers developed the ILS so many years ago, they simultaneously created one of the most reliable and accurate navaids ever. The basic ILS is in use throughout the world and, with appropriate air- and ground-borne hardware, site prep, training and certification, we can use it to fly down to and land without seeing much at all out the windshield. But those engineers couldnt do everything. They couldnt, for example, eliminate the ever-narrowing of the desired course and descent path as we get closer to the runway. They also couldnt eliminate the need to descend in the first place. In the bargain, were “saddled with” a well-understood and predictable means to transition from straight-and-level flight in the terminal area to sitting upright at the airport bar, with a few moments of needle-chasing thrown in for good measure. Like so many things in life and aviation, there are ways to cheat-err, simplify-the ILS. Many pilots-especially those with a newer instrument rating-may not have grasped them yet.

A few years ago, as a relatively low-time private pilot with a brand-new instrument rating, flying a normally aspirated piston single in northern New Mexico, I decided that before I venture into the mountains on my own, I should take a mountain flying course offered by a local CFII. The three-day program was extraordinarily valuable, particularly to a low-time lowlander like myself. One thing we did made a huge impression on me; Id like to pass it along under the general heading of hypoxic stupidity. After taking off from Telluride, we headed back to Taos “over the ridge,” taking us to approximately 14,000 feet. About the time we actually got that high, the instructor told me to shed the oxygen, start the panel timer and give him reciprocals to headings hed give me. Normally, I can do that in my sleep, and for the first 1 minutes, I complied.

For a long time now, loss-of-control accidents in general aviation have been driven by relatively few but recurring causes pointing to fundamental problems in pilot training. These problems seem national in scope. The NTSBs findings in two recent crashes illustrate the point. One was the fatal stall/spin of an American Champion Decathlon in Oroville, Calif., in October 2005; the other the much-reported crash of a Cirrus SR20 into a Manhattan apartment building in October 2006. In both accidents-the Decathlon involving a high-time ATP, the Cirrus an 88-hour major league baseball player new to aviation-there were common threads. Both reveal systemic errors and omissions in our standard flight training. Methodology, in my estimation. These two accidents vividly show that our training is deficient in teaching stall/spin awareness, cockpit resource management and risk analysis. Why cant we figure this out?

It should be a simple question. After all, it seems like almost every classroom, hangar, shop or production area has posters reminding people that “Safety Comes First” and to “Be Safe,” “Fly Safe” and “Work Safe.” Yet when I ask the people attending my Preventing Human Error seminar to define safety, to explain how to […]

Happily, the days of a dealer tossing the keys to a new owner and wishing him luck are gone, at least for most of the industry. The delivery process today, even for light airplanes, is extremely involved. Before a new owner leaves the factory with his brand-new, shiny flying machine, he’ll have to sit down […]

The year 1979 was the last big year of aircraft shipments. Almost 18,000 were sold that year. About 3,000 of those airplanes were piston twins. Today, any single that sells 534 units a year is red hot. In 1979, that’s how many Seneca twins Piper sold. If the piston single business looks lethargic when compared […]

I recently read an online comment from a wizened aviator to the effect that weather, by itself, has rarely if ever been responsible for an aviation accident. On the other hand, failure of the airplanes crew to correctly fly the airplane in that weather will mean a bad day for everyone aboard just about every time. Since the airplane is an inanimate object capable only of responding within its limitations to what its crew commands, the comment is exactly on-target. One of our challenges as pilots is to bring the required judgment, skill and experience along in the airplane. Of course, the average general aviation airplane is a marvel of reliability and capability. Even when considering an older design, the advances in technology since its introduction make trivial the task of equipping it with the latest in automated systems, allowing its crew to benefit from detailed information and situational awareness only dreamed of a generation ago.

According to the AOPA Air Safety Foundations 2007 Nall Report, you have a 57.4 percent chance of dying if you lose control while maneuvering an airplane, up from 50.5 percent in the reports 2005 edition. Maneuvering describes a host of flight operations including aggressive turns from base to final, confined-area course reversals and retreats to the runway following an engine failure. In other words, turns. Why cant Johnny turn safely? One reason might be losing understanding of and appreciation for the dynamics of a turn, regardless of bank angle, airspeed or pitch. Lets take a look

I wanted to write in response to the recent Learning Experience entry Ground Reference (September 2007) and the idea of ducking under a cloud deck on a flight between Buffalo, N.Y., and New York City. I dont doubt the author knows the route like the back of his hand, so flying it under a low overcast may be safe. Ive flown the route from Buffalo to Utica, N.Y.; the moisture pumped in from the lakes was something else. I didnt want to be high and on top, but I cant recall why. Despite my best efforts, the flight ended well thanks to Buffalo approach. They took me up and over the tops all the way to UCA where I made a simple, safe approach. The ceiling there was at minimums but it was the smoothest air Ive ever flown in, and some of the safest. The writer mentioned hills, but no reference to antennas as he flew. Hills in general are favored by radio stations and cell phone companies, and most often harbor a danger I learned to call “Porcupine Ridge.” Every radio station wants to be there.