The pilots and flight engineers of Amerijet have been on strike since Thursday, Aug 27, 2009. Problems cited include:
Pay that is below average
Having to relieve themselves in bags because aircraft do not have lavatories
Excessive duty days
Losing pay for calling in sick
Visit here for more details.
Please help the flight crews at Amerijet in any way you can. More information can be found here.
If you would like to show your support for their cause, please visit them at the Miami International Airport at the address below:
Amerijet's Cargo City Facility
6185 NW 18th St BLG 716-B
Miami, FL 33126
Friday, September 4, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
West to Marco Island
I wanted to fly, but not too far. I wasn't in the mood to sit in the plane for 3+ hours today, so we decided to go to Marco Island. We took the same plane I used for my instrument checkride, 04D. A solid airplane, but the pilot's seat is a little low. I've had to deal with worse problems, so this one hardly phases me. I'm flying for the second time with this pilot. All in all, I think he's a good pilot, but he sometimes does things that cause me to scratch my head. Since he's relatively inexperienced at ~80 hours, he does get a little nervous at times though. I wonder if I was like that at 80hrs...
I use my handheld radio to get the ATIS. The ATIS is a synopsis of the pertinent weather details, and operational status of the airport. It is normally updated every hour. We close the doors, and start the engine. It fires on the first attempt. That's been happening a lot lately. Either I'm getting better at starting engines, or they've changed the engines somewhat. I turn on the avionics, finish the checklists, and am ready to taxi. My PNF isn't quite ready though. He wants to get the ATIS again- just in case it changed since we checked it 2 minutes ago. Um...okay.
He's running the radios for this leg, and before he calls for taxi instructions and flight following, he verifies our intended routing before making the transmission. We taxi to runway 09L behind a Cirrus and do our engine check. All is well, and we are ready to depart. The Cirrus has left, and we call the tower, advising them that we are ready for departure. We're told to hold short for a Piper Arrow on final. We watch as the pilot makes a nice corsswind landing. As he clears the runway, we are cleared for takeoff. I check that the arrival path is clear, and do a mental checklist as we line up on the runway. I verify my PNF is ready, and then smoothly apply full power. The old girl rattles down the runway and makes it into the air. We're climbing at a whopping 500fpm. With 2 grown men and full fuel, she doesn't climb too well in the 32C heat. Leaving 700ft, we turn westbound and contact Miami Approach, where we're instructed to maintain VFR below 2000ft. Not a problem. I prefer to go higher though, as the air is smoother and cooler. We also get a slightly faster speed and better fuel economy.
As we leave the lateral limits of the Miami Bravo airspace, we start a climb to 4500ft. We have to dodge a few clouds to maintain VFR, but it's nothing serious. One could hardly ask for a better day to fly in the Summer in South Florida. We're soon handed off to Miami Center, where they continue to track us via radar. My PNF confesses that he's never been higher than 3500ft, and he's rather excited. This doesn't surprise me. He isn't the first to tell me something like that. I'll never understand the reluctance some pilots have when it comes to flying higher. The entire experience improves when you fly higher. That's not to say that I take my Cessna to the service ceiling though- I'm not silly. However, I've heard of pilots who go on 3 hour trips and never fly above 2500ft. What a waste of all that altitude above.
Miami Center eventually has us contact Fort Myers approach. We switch frequencies and get no answer. Back to Miami Center, and the controller gives us yet another frequency, that turns out to be Miami Approach. We go back to Miami Center and he gets on the land line with Fort Myers. Soon, he gets back to us and says that they're unable to pick us up, and radar service is no longer available. Just great. I'm not fond of flying around without talking to anybody, which is why I prefer to fly IFR. VFR without flight following represents an unnecessary risk. The South Florida sky is crowded, and it helps to know that the controller is able to advise us of traffic in the area. It doesn't make sense going back now, so we exercise increased vigilance in scanning for traffic.
For some reason, I usually have a hard time spotting Marco Island; more so than other airports. Today though, I spot it with ease, and we enter the pattern, making announcements on UNICOM since the field doesn't have a control tower. As I turn final for runway 35, I have an 8 knot crosswind. Not unduly difficult, but you have to pay attention if you want it done safely and smoothly. I start out with a crab, and at ~200ft, transition to the wing low twchnique my instructor taught me not long ago. I'm still amazed at how well it works, as the pilots I've flown with used way too much control input. I manage a nice touchdown, right wheel first, and roll to the end of the runway. We park and note the flight time. Exactly an hour. We'll go inside, chill for a bit, then return home.
I use my handheld radio to get the ATIS. The ATIS is a synopsis of the pertinent weather details, and operational status of the airport. It is normally updated every hour. We close the doors, and start the engine. It fires on the first attempt. That's been happening a lot lately. Either I'm getting better at starting engines, or they've changed the engines somewhat. I turn on the avionics, finish the checklists, and am ready to taxi. My PNF isn't quite ready though. He wants to get the ATIS again- just in case it changed since we checked it 2 minutes ago. Um...okay.
He's running the radios for this leg, and before he calls for taxi instructions and flight following, he verifies our intended routing before making the transmission. We taxi to runway 09L behind a Cirrus and do our engine check. All is well, and we are ready to depart. The Cirrus has left, and we call the tower, advising them that we are ready for departure. We're told to hold short for a Piper Arrow on final. We watch as the pilot makes a nice corsswind landing. As he clears the runway, we are cleared for takeoff. I check that the arrival path is clear, and do a mental checklist as we line up on the runway. I verify my PNF is ready, and then smoothly apply full power. The old girl rattles down the runway and makes it into the air. We're climbing at a whopping 500fpm. With 2 grown men and full fuel, she doesn't climb too well in the 32C heat. Leaving 700ft, we turn westbound and contact Miami Approach, where we're instructed to maintain VFR below 2000ft. Not a problem. I prefer to go higher though, as the air is smoother and cooler. We also get a slightly faster speed and better fuel economy.
As we leave the lateral limits of the Miami Bravo airspace, we start a climb to 4500ft. We have to dodge a few clouds to maintain VFR, but it's nothing serious. One could hardly ask for a better day to fly in the Summer in South Florida. We're soon handed off to Miami Center, where they continue to track us via radar. My PNF confesses that he's never been higher than 3500ft, and he's rather excited. This doesn't surprise me. He isn't the first to tell me something like that. I'll never understand the reluctance some pilots have when it comes to flying higher. The entire experience improves when you fly higher. That's not to say that I take my Cessna to the service ceiling though- I'm not silly. However, I've heard of pilots who go on 3 hour trips and never fly above 2500ft. What a waste of all that altitude above.
Miami Center eventually has us contact Fort Myers approach. We switch frequencies and get no answer. Back to Miami Center, and the controller gives us yet another frequency, that turns out to be Miami Approach. We go back to Miami Center and he gets on the land line with Fort Myers. Soon, he gets back to us and says that they're unable to pick us up, and radar service is no longer available. Just great. I'm not fond of flying around without talking to anybody, which is why I prefer to fly IFR. VFR without flight following represents an unnecessary risk. The South Florida sky is crowded, and it helps to know that the controller is able to advise us of traffic in the area. It doesn't make sense going back now, so we exercise increased vigilance in scanning for traffic.
For some reason, I usually have a hard time spotting Marco Island; more so than other airports. Today though, I spot it with ease, and we enter the pattern, making announcements on UNICOM since the field doesn't have a control tower. As I turn final for runway 35, I have an 8 knot crosswind. Not unduly difficult, but you have to pay attention if you want it done safely and smoothly. I start out with a crab, and at ~200ft, transition to the wing low twchnique my instructor taught me not long ago. I'm still amazed at how well it works, as the pilots I've flown with used way too much control input. I manage a nice touchdown, right wheel first, and roll to the end of the runway. We park and note the flight time. Exactly an hour. We'll go inside, chill for a bit, then return home.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Airplane Multi Engine Land (AMEL)!!!
When it rains, it pours, and thank God for that! On Tuesday I finally got to start my multi-engine training, and it was every bit as exciting as I thought it would be. The first surprise on the external inspection is that the ailerons are much heavier than the 172 ailerons. We also have to be careful to properly inspect the landing gear to make sure all is well. Next up is an engine start procedure that's a bit more complex than the 172. Important differences are that we make sure the propeller is in the high speed (low drag) setting for the start (this eases the load on the starter), and there is a dedicated start switch, unlike the combined start/magneto switch in the 172.
Taxiing the airplane immediately reveals how much heavier the plane is. At ~1300lb heavier than the Cessna, the Seminole takes a bit more effort to taxi with finesse. At the same time, the plane has tons of power relative to the Skyhawk, so will start moving, and quickly gain speed at idle power. Unless you want to taxi quickly, idle power is all that's needed for taxi. As we approach the runway, we perform the engine runup. In the 172, all you test is the magnetos (and carburetor heat on an older plane), but in the Seminole we also have to test the propeller governor on the manifold pressure, tachometer and oil pressure gauges. Typically 10-15 minutes will pass before we're ready for takeoff.
Once cleared for takeoff, we make an initial power setting, check the instruments, then go for full power. The acceleration is reasonable, but it eats up the 5000ft runway pretty quickly in the 31C heat. "Positive rate, gear up". It feels good to say that! We feel the performance increase as the gear tucks into the belly. At around this time, I'll notice that the number 2 prop control has slipped a bit, and so that propeller isn't producing maximum thrust. I push it forward and get a positive yawing motion to the left- which is quickly correct with some right rudder. Leaving 500ft, we reduce power to the climb setting and accelerate to 105kt. This power reduction thing is pretty new for me. Even in the more powerful 172's, any reduction in power meant a tremendous decrease in vertical speed.
Withe climb power set, we usually get a solid 600fpm at 105kt; maybe 1000fpm at 88kt (best climb speed). I tend to prefer 105kt for better engine cooling. Even at that speed though, the vertical speed is still locked, unlike in a 172 where it will drop every now and again. In no time we're passing 4500ft and ready to do some maneuvers. This essentially entails all the private pilot stuff- stalls, steep turns and slow flight. Next, we move on to some single engine work. That means identifying the dead engine and shutting it down. Be careful not to shut down the wrong engine- it's poor form, and examiners frown on such mistakes. Whenever I go to shut down an engine, I remember BMI92.
On my fist flight, I got to do an ILS approach, which was interesting. The basics are all the same, but the plane is VERY sensitive in the pitch axis. One moment, you're descending at 300fpm, the next moment you're climbing at 200fpm. I've re-learned how to use pitch trim. The slightest out of trim condition will cause the vertical speed to change, and controlling that all flying tailplane (stabilitor) leaves my fingers numb if the plane is out of trim.
Landing the Seminole is something else that takes getting used to. Firstly, unless you're REALLY tall, you can't see the nose. Unless I make an effort to look over the glareshield, I'll never see the nose of the plane. That makes it a little harder to judge your attitude as the ground gets closer. Secondly, you land the Seminold with only the slightest flare. Hardly any flare at all.
At the end of my first flight, I got the feeling I had just flown a real plane, not the metal duck they call the 172. It was really an amazing experience. One I hope I can do a lot more often.
Watch this space for more details on CSEL and CMEL preparation.
Taxiing the airplane immediately reveals how much heavier the plane is. At ~1300lb heavier than the Cessna, the Seminole takes a bit more effort to taxi with finesse. At the same time, the plane has tons of power relative to the Skyhawk, so will start moving, and quickly gain speed at idle power. Unless you want to taxi quickly, idle power is all that's needed for taxi. As we approach the runway, we perform the engine runup. In the 172, all you test is the magnetos (and carburetor heat on an older plane), but in the Seminole we also have to test the propeller governor on the manifold pressure, tachometer and oil pressure gauges. Typically 10-15 minutes will pass before we're ready for takeoff.
Once cleared for takeoff, we make an initial power setting, check the instruments, then go for full power. The acceleration is reasonable, but it eats up the 5000ft runway pretty quickly in the 31C heat. "Positive rate, gear up". It feels good to say that! We feel the performance increase as the gear tucks into the belly. At around this time, I'll notice that the number 2 prop control has slipped a bit, and so that propeller isn't producing maximum thrust. I push it forward and get a positive yawing motion to the left- which is quickly correct with some right rudder. Leaving 500ft, we reduce power to the climb setting and accelerate to 105kt. This power reduction thing is pretty new for me. Even in the more powerful 172's, any reduction in power meant a tremendous decrease in vertical speed.
Withe climb power set, we usually get a solid 600fpm at 105kt; maybe 1000fpm at 88kt (best climb speed). I tend to prefer 105kt for better engine cooling. Even at that speed though, the vertical speed is still locked, unlike in a 172 where it will drop every now and again. In no time we're passing 4500ft and ready to do some maneuvers. This essentially entails all the private pilot stuff- stalls, steep turns and slow flight. Next, we move on to some single engine work. That means identifying the dead engine and shutting it down. Be careful not to shut down the wrong engine- it's poor form, and examiners frown on such mistakes. Whenever I go to shut down an engine, I remember BMI92.
On my fist flight, I got to do an ILS approach, which was interesting. The basics are all the same, but the plane is VERY sensitive in the pitch axis. One moment, you're descending at 300fpm, the next moment you're climbing at 200fpm. I've re-learned how to use pitch trim. The slightest out of trim condition will cause the vertical speed to change, and controlling that all flying tailplane (stabilitor) leaves my fingers numb if the plane is out of trim.
Landing the Seminole is something else that takes getting used to. Firstly, unless you're REALLY tall, you can't see the nose. Unless I make an effort to look over the glareshield, I'll never see the nose of the plane. That makes it a little harder to judge your attitude as the ground gets closer. Secondly, you land the Seminold with only the slightest flare. Hardly any flare at all.
At the end of my first flight, I got the feeling I had just flown a real plane, not the metal duck they call the 172. It was really an amazing experience. One I hope I can do a lot more often.
Watch this space for more details on CSEL and CMEL preparation.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Murphy's Law
Do I really need to say anything? After all the planets lined up- instructor, my schedule, plane and all. I get to the airport, and this is what the weather radar shows. All that nice yellow stuff heading towards us and evolving into red stuff. It looked as if we could make it out, but the return to the field may have been dicey. Good thing I canceled too, because within half an hour there was lightening and a solid 15kt direct crosswind that I'd have to handle on my first flight.
Again, I've rescheduled, so now I sit and wait.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
I'm getting miffed
It's been a while since I tried to schedule my first multi-engine lesson. Last week, my instructor had no time. This week the plane ran out of time, and is down for a 100hr inspection. Tomorrow, I have the dubious pleasure of heading down to the airport for some ground instruction, and I've re-booked the multi for Sunday since it's being used so often.
The core problem is that the school has a handful of multi's and a ton of students- most of whom will have to fly them at some point. In the mean time, my single engine training has paused while I wait for some multi time. I'm also waiting for the weather to cooperate so I can do my 250nm corss country flight. The past week's been pretty frustrating. Hopefully I'll have some good news on Sunday.
The core problem is that the school has a handful of multi's and a ton of students- most of whom will have to fly them at some point. In the mean time, my single engine training has paused while I wait for some multi time. I'm also waiting for the weather to cooperate so I can do my 250nm corss country flight. The past week's been pretty frustrating. Hopefully I'll have some good news on Sunday.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Commercial Maneuvers pt.2 plus backseat in the Multi
This week I got to do my second commercial lesson, where I learned how to do a steep spiral and "eight's on pylons". I got to demonstrate all the maneuvers, and they were all done fairly well (although my CFI talked me through the eight on pylons). I think I'm going to stop booking flights for 1pm. The midday temperature is stupidly hot. By the time you get back on the ground, your clothes are soaked in sweat and smell like a pig. I have a lot of respect for the ramp personnel who work in this heat all summer long to ensure that flights move on time. I salute all of you.
After spending the next few hours at the airport, I finally got to ride in the back seat of the Seminole I'd use for my training. On the climbout, we were getting just about 1000fpm, which seemed respectable given the temperature. I observed some steep turns, Vmc demonstrations and engine out procedures. The procedures are a fair bit more complicated than those of the 172 I'm used to flying, so they'll take some getting used to, but I'm still looking forward to it. As we went back to the airport, night was falling and the student prepared for an instrument approach. This is where the plane really interested me, as it had backlights for all the instruments, a Garmin 530, plus a Horizontal Situation Indicator (HSI). It really looked like it would be a joy to fly under IFR. This was to be the student's first night landing and it was, umm, firm. Let's hope I fare better when my turn comes around. Once we got in, I scheduled the plane for my own lesson. I'm looking forward to writing in that MEL (Multi-Engine Land) column of my logbook. See you next time!
After spending the next few hours at the airport, I finally got to ride in the back seat of the Seminole I'd use for my training. On the climbout, we were getting just about 1000fpm, which seemed respectable given the temperature. I observed some steep turns, Vmc demonstrations and engine out procedures. The procedures are a fair bit more complicated than those of the 172 I'm used to flying, so they'll take some getting used to, but I'm still looking forward to it. As we went back to the airport, night was falling and the student prepared for an instrument approach. This is where the plane really interested me, as it had backlights for all the instruments, a Garmin 530, plus a Horizontal Situation Indicator (HSI). It really looked like it would be a joy to fly under IFR. This was to be the student's first night landing and it was, umm, firm. Let's hope I fare better when my turn comes around. Once we got in, I scheduled the plane for my own lesson. I'm looking forward to writing in that MEL (Multi-Engine Land) column of my logbook. See you next time!
Friday, July 3, 2009
No part 2, but some multi!
I was really psyched for lesson 2, since we'd review the last lesson, then do some new maneuvers. The ATIS reported a temperature of 34C (93F); in case you're not familiar, that's 34 degrees IN THE SHADE. There isn't much shade on the ramp, so you have to do a lot of walking in direct sunlight. I'd guess that the temperature in the sun was upwards of 40C (104F).
You'll be pleased to know that after all the sweat and preparation, when I engaged the starter, I was greeted with only a faint clicking sound. I tried once more, then my instructor tried with a similar result. At 1735z, the battery was pronounced dead, and the lifeless body was removed to the ME's office for autopsy. Criminally negligent homicide is suspected. My opinion is that it was too darn hot and the battery just said #&^%. It's just as well anyway, because with that sort of temperature, the climb performance will be poor, and the maneuvers will not be executed efficiently.
In the mean time, I've rescheduled and talked with my multi-engine instructor to schedule some lessons. If all goes well I'll have my first ride in a multi within a week. I'm really looking forward to that, since all my flying thus far has been in a 172 or 152. I'm excited to learn a new design philosophy and some new systems. Hopefully the performance of the Seminole is better than the 172.
You'll be pleased to know that after all the sweat and preparation, when I engaged the starter, I was greeted with only a faint clicking sound. I tried once more, then my instructor tried with a similar result. At 1735z, the battery was pronounced dead, and the lifeless body was removed to the ME's office for autopsy. Criminally negligent homicide is suspected. My opinion is that it was too darn hot and the battery just said #&^%. It's just as well anyway, because with that sort of temperature, the climb performance will be poor, and the maneuvers will not be executed efficiently.
In the mean time, I've rescheduled and talked with my multi-engine instructor to schedule some lessons. If all goes well I'll have my first ride in a multi within a week. I'm really looking forward to that, since all my flying thus far has been in a 172 or 152. I'm excited to learn a new design philosophy and some new systems. Hopefully the performance of the Seminole is better than the 172.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Commercial Maneuvers, lesson 1
It's been a while since I've posted anything- this is primarily because I haven't flown. In the time that I've been away, I was studying intensely for my commercial written exam. I passed it, and so the flying has resumed. I started learning commercial maneuvers today, and they were a blast. We started off with some basic stuff- slow flight, stalls and "private pilot" steep turns. Then we moved on to "commercial" steep turns that required a 50 degree bank. For some reason, the extra 5 degrees caused a bit of trouble, and they were a bit coarse. We'll need to do some polishing next time round. Next up, we did Chandelles. I think of this as a terrain escape maneuver. Say you're flying along one day, and need to escape some terrain that's rising faster than you can climb, you'd use a Chandelle to save your butt. It's a minimum radius, climbing 180 degree turn, where pitch is varied for the first half, and bank is varied for the second half. After 2 tries, I was doing them well enough, but keep your feet on those rudder pedals, as adverse yaw will bite you.
Next on the menu was the dreaded lazy 8. Don't ask me when you'd use this maneuver- because I haven't a clue. I'll take it as an exercise in aircraft control. It's much harder to explain than it is to do, so I won't waste your time going into it, but suffice to say that they're fun. It takes a while to get accustomed to, so I tried maybe 4 times before getting it right. A major problem was that by default, I'll look at the gauges, and this is one maneuver where I've been bitten. Once I tried doing it with my eyes outside, it worked like a charm. Proper positioning is key though, because the wind has a major effect on the outcome of this demonstration.
After all that yanking and banking, my stomach has just about enough, and we went back to the field for some circuits. That was interesting. My first landing was a soft field demonstration, which requires minimum airspeed, full flaps and a gentle touchdown. Now the tower was estimating the wind from 220 degrees at 6kt as they cleared us for the first touch and go, but I was to find that their estimate was WAY off. When we saw the windsock on short final, it was showing us at least 16kt blowing straight across the runway- no wonder I needed so much crosswind correction. Full flaps don't help in a crosswind either, so the landing was less than dignified. I figured that it was as good a time as any to practice some crosswind landings, and my instructor agreed, but he insisted on teaching me the wing low technique that he knows I loathe.
Now, flying with other pilots (students and instructors alike), they all seemed to slam the rudder and drop the wing when using this technique, causing all the luggage to shift to one side. That causes the terrible feeling of nausea I described in a previous post. My CFI showed me another method- use JUST ENOUGH rudder to keep on the centerline, and opposite aileron as required. Well I tried it, and a light went off in my head. Yes, the controls felt funny, but I wasn't looking at the ground at some odd angle while trying to keep my food down. It was a perfectly docile maneuver, and you wouldn't realize what was going on unless you were looking at the instruments. It worked a charm, and now I'm WAY more comfortable with the wing low technique. Most of the people I've flown with were way too aggressive. Small corrections are the secret. Of course, I don't consider myself an expert after a hand full of wing low approaches, but now I'm far more open to the idea, and I'm looking forward to trying it again.
The rest of the lesson was spent doing power off precision approaches, short and soft field landings. Given the stiff crosswind, we elected to use a lower flap setting for better aircraft control. For my final circuit, we had to extend the downwind leg for a Cessna Citation (aka SLOWtation) on a 5 mile final. It took forever for this plane to pass us. Man those things are slow! We stayed above his approach path to a flapless landing and vacated the runway. By this time, I was sweating like a pig. Circuits are fun, but the low airspeed and power setting result in very little cabin airflow, and the low altitude means it's hot, so as fun as it is to do circuits for half an hour, you're glad when it's over.
All in all, a good day of flying. I'm going to do some chair flying later to practise the maneuvers for the next lesson. Until next time, keep the dirty side down...
Next on the menu was the dreaded lazy 8. Don't ask me when you'd use this maneuver- because I haven't a clue. I'll take it as an exercise in aircraft control. It's much harder to explain than it is to do, so I won't waste your time going into it, but suffice to say that they're fun. It takes a while to get accustomed to, so I tried maybe 4 times before getting it right. A major problem was that by default, I'll look at the gauges, and this is one maneuver where I've been bitten. Once I tried doing it with my eyes outside, it worked like a charm. Proper positioning is key though, because the wind has a major effect on the outcome of this demonstration.
After all that yanking and banking, my stomach has just about enough, and we went back to the field for some circuits. That was interesting. My first landing was a soft field demonstration, which requires minimum airspeed, full flaps and a gentle touchdown. Now the tower was estimating the wind from 220 degrees at 6kt as they cleared us for the first touch and go, but I was to find that their estimate was WAY off. When we saw the windsock on short final, it was showing us at least 16kt blowing straight across the runway- no wonder I needed so much crosswind correction. Full flaps don't help in a crosswind either, so the landing was less than dignified. I figured that it was as good a time as any to practice some crosswind landings, and my instructor agreed, but he insisted on teaching me the wing low technique that he knows I loathe.
Now, flying with other pilots (students and instructors alike), they all seemed to slam the rudder and drop the wing when using this technique, causing all the luggage to shift to one side. That causes the terrible feeling of nausea I described in a previous post. My CFI showed me another method- use JUST ENOUGH rudder to keep on the centerline, and opposite aileron as required. Well I tried it, and a light went off in my head. Yes, the controls felt funny, but I wasn't looking at the ground at some odd angle while trying to keep my food down. It was a perfectly docile maneuver, and you wouldn't realize what was going on unless you were looking at the instruments. It worked a charm, and now I'm WAY more comfortable with the wing low technique. Most of the people I've flown with were way too aggressive. Small corrections are the secret. Of course, I don't consider myself an expert after a hand full of wing low approaches, but now I'm far more open to the idea, and I'm looking forward to trying it again.
The rest of the lesson was spent doing power off precision approaches, short and soft field landings. Given the stiff crosswind, we elected to use a lower flap setting for better aircraft control. For my final circuit, we had to extend the downwind leg for a Cessna Citation (aka SLOWtation) on a 5 mile final. It took forever for this plane to pass us. Man those things are slow! We stayed above his approach path to a flapless landing and vacated the runway. By this time, I was sweating like a pig. Circuits are fun, but the low airspeed and power setting result in very little cabin airflow, and the low altitude means it's hot, so as fun as it is to do circuits for half an hour, you're glad when it's over.
All in all, a good day of flying. I'm going to do some chair flying later to practise the maneuvers for the next lesson. Until next time, keep the dirty side down...
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Circumventing thunderstorms for the night dual cross country
After grabbing a bit to eat and admiring the A319 at KPGD, we checked the weather, and it didn't look pretty. The system that was coming up from Cuba moved much faster than anticipated, and there was a solid line of radar returns dividing the east and west coasts. Thankfully, there was a decently sized gap in the line so we decided to try the flight. If things got bad, we had several outs- multiple airfields behind us, and Immokalee, Okechobee and Dade Crollier in the middle.
Immediately after departure, we called Fort Myers Approach for flight following. We take note of where the lightning strikes are coming from, and fly right in the middle to avoid them by as much as possible. The controller asks in we have weather radar on board. I laugh and think "If only he knew.." I ask the controller to keep us abreast of the weather up ahead, and for maybe half an hour, I keep talking to him to make sure what we see in the darkness is similar to what his radar is showing. It's never good when ATC uses phrases like "area of extreme precipitation" and "moderate to intense echoes". We're going balls to the wall to get out of the weather ASAP and this is the first time I've seen an older 172 get all the way to the yellow arc in level flight. It's a good thing the ATCO was only talking to 3 planes. He was able to give us a lot of assistance as we flew into the darkness that was only illuminated by flashes of lightening some miles away. We gingerly navigate around the weather as best we can. All the time communicating with ATC to make sure we weren't flying into hidden danger. In those times, more than ever, you appreciate the hard work and training ATCO's go through. No doubt controllers have saved the lives of countless pilots by providing services such as I was receiving. Thank you again, Mr. Fort Myers Approach!
When we're told to contact Miami Center, I express my gratitude to the approach controller. The center controller is a lot busier, but is able to tell us that our heading will keep us in the clear, and he's able to keep us abreast of what the weather is doing. By the time we contact Miami Approach, we're in the clear, but continue east for a bit more to ensure the weather doesn't catch up with us. Pretty soon, we're back in our comfort zone on the east coast where there are lots of airports, and the nasty weather is behind us. The rest of the flight is completed uneventfully. Not a moment too soon though. As I walk back to my car, the wind picks up and it starts to rain as one of the storm cells reaches the airport.
I've included a picture of what the weather looked like. Of course it's a little misleading because radar shows the weather at the time I printed it and not while I was flying, but you get an idea of the weather that existed and the kind of course deviations that were necessary.
As I hoped, I learned a lot on this cross country flight with my instructor and gained some valuable experience. I hope I don't forget it any time soon. For now, I'm back to the books.
Immediately after departure, we called Fort Myers Approach for flight following. We take note of where the lightning strikes are coming from, and fly right in the middle to avoid them by as much as possible. The controller asks in we have weather radar on board. I laugh and think "If only he knew.." I ask the controller to keep us abreast of the weather up ahead, and for maybe half an hour, I keep talking to him to make sure what we see in the darkness is similar to what his radar is showing. It's never good when ATC uses phrases like "area of extreme precipitation" and "moderate to intense echoes". We're going balls to the wall to get out of the weather ASAP and this is the first time I've seen an older 172 get all the way to the yellow arc in level flight. It's a good thing the ATCO was only talking to 3 planes. He was able to give us a lot of assistance as we flew into the darkness that was only illuminated by flashes of lightening some miles away. We gingerly navigate around the weather as best we can. All the time communicating with ATC to make sure we weren't flying into hidden danger. In those times, more than ever, you appreciate the hard work and training ATCO's go through. No doubt controllers have saved the lives of countless pilots by providing services such as I was receiving. Thank you again, Mr. Fort Myers Approach!
When we're told to contact Miami Center, I express my gratitude to the approach controller. The center controller is a lot busier, but is able to tell us that our heading will keep us in the clear, and he's able to keep us abreast of what the weather is doing. By the time we contact Miami Approach, we're in the clear, but continue east for a bit more to ensure the weather doesn't catch up with us. Pretty soon, we're back in our comfort zone on the east coast where there are lots of airports, and the nasty weather is behind us. The rest of the flight is completed uneventfully. Not a moment too soon though. As I walk back to my car, the wind picks up and it starts to rain as one of the storm cells reaches the airport.
I've included a picture of what the weather looked like. Of course it's a little misleading because radar shows the weather at the time I printed it and not while I was flying, but you get an idea of the weather that existed and the kind of course deviations that were necessary.
As I hoped, I learned a lot on this cross country flight with my instructor and gained some valuable experience. I hope I don't forget it any time soon. For now, I'm back to the books.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Commercial Dual day cross country
I arrived at the airport looking forward to my VFR cross country. It's been a long time since I've done one of those, and I figured I'd need some pointers because of rusty technique. I was relieved to see that the west coast was pretty clear, and the nasty radar returns were northeast of us, and moving away. The only other weather in the area was moving northeast out of Cuba, but seemed pretty far away. I decided to go to Charlotte County, an uncontrolled field north of Fort Myers since I'd never been there before. Flightplan in hand we headed out to the airplane which was still at the maintenance center fresh out of a 100hr inspection. When we got there, the plane wasn't quite ready; while they adjusted the seats and performed a ground run, my instructor took the time to go over some of the finer points of a VFR cross country flight. We finally got the plane and taxied to the FBO ramp for fuel. Taking fuel samples is something a number of pilots get complacent about. I learned early in my training not to do so, and that lesson paid off again. Presumably because of the afternoon rain, I had to drain a significant quantity of fuel from one wing tank, and I also found water contamination in the engine. Flying over the everglades, it would not have been amusing to hear the engine sputter.
Fresh out of maintenance, the engine run went flawlessly, and we readied for takeoff. I was in full VFR mode, noting airspace limits and headings. Not that these things aren't required for IFR flight, but the focus would normally be more on radials, frequencies and intersections. We depart and request flight following. The frequency isn't busy, so we got to do pretty much as we pleased. I'm noting times, heading and distances as we pass the cement plant, antenna farm, I75 and the twin canals. I remembered why I hate VFR flying so much. It's pretty annoying having to search for checkpoints on the ground. As distinctive as some features look on the map, when you're several miles away, and looking at them at an angle, it takes a while to positively identify the checkpoint. Nevertheless, I think i did a reasonable job, as my instructor was not complaining.
The flight continued uneventfully, and I note that the Fort Myers TRACON was unusually quiet. Little did I know that it would be to my benefit later on. When we switched to the common frequency at Charlotte County, we listened as a Saratoga with an unsafe gear indication did a flyby to verify that his gear is down. After confirmation from 2 sources, the pilot attempted a landing. We wished him well and hoped for the best. A few tense moments later, he announced that he's vacating the runway, and we all breathed a sigh of relief.
We decided to do a power off 180 landing at KPGD. This is an exercise in precision control. On the downwind leg, abeam the point of intended touchdown, you cut the power and leave it at idle. You then remain close to the filed and glide to land within 100ft of that point. It's pretty much the same thing as the engine failures you need to demonstrate for the private pilot checkride, but you must touch down at the preselected spot. There are no points awarded for finesse and a smooth landing, just on speed, on centerline, and on the mark. It's pretty fun to do.
Arriving at the FBO I saw a Virgin America A319 parked at the ramp. The things you see when you don't have a camera...We relaxed for a bit and waited for nightfall to complete the second half of the requirement. The FBO is pretty nice, and my instructor and I enjoyed the comfy chairs in the lounge as we caught up on some television. Stay tuned for the return trip...
Fresh out of maintenance, the engine run went flawlessly, and we readied for takeoff. I was in full VFR mode, noting airspace limits and headings. Not that these things aren't required for IFR flight, but the focus would normally be more on radials, frequencies and intersections. We depart and request flight following. The frequency isn't busy, so we got to do pretty much as we pleased. I'm noting times, heading and distances as we pass the cement plant, antenna farm, I75 and the twin canals. I remembered why I hate VFR flying so much. It's pretty annoying having to search for checkpoints on the ground. As distinctive as some features look on the map, when you're several miles away, and looking at them at an angle, it takes a while to positively identify the checkpoint. Nevertheless, I think i did a reasonable job, as my instructor was not complaining.
The flight continued uneventfully, and I note that the Fort Myers TRACON was unusually quiet. Little did I know that it would be to my benefit later on. When we switched to the common frequency at Charlotte County, we listened as a Saratoga with an unsafe gear indication did a flyby to verify that his gear is down. After confirmation from 2 sources, the pilot attempted a landing. We wished him well and hoped for the best. A few tense moments later, he announced that he's vacating the runway, and we all breathed a sigh of relief.
We decided to do a power off 180 landing at KPGD. This is an exercise in precision control. On the downwind leg, abeam the point of intended touchdown, you cut the power and leave it at idle. You then remain close to the filed and glide to land within 100ft of that point. It's pretty much the same thing as the engine failures you need to demonstrate for the private pilot checkride, but you must touch down at the preselected spot. There are no points awarded for finesse and a smooth landing, just on speed, on centerline, and on the mark. It's pretty fun to do.
Arriving at the FBO I saw a Virgin America A319 parked at the ramp. The things you see when you don't have a camera...We relaxed for a bit and waited for nightfall to complete the second half of the requirement. The FBO is pretty nice, and my instructor and I enjoyed the comfy chairs in the lounge as we caught up on some television. Stay tuned for the return trip...
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Welcome to Summer in the Tropics
I dutifully prepared for my flight this weekend, but it never materialized. Because of the FAA requirement, we have to do the flight in the late afternoon so we can log day and night time. That's a problem down here in the lovely tropical weather since summer afternoons characterized by isolated and embedded thunderstorms. It was no different on Sunday. The radar was showing lots of green surrounding different intensities of yellow, orange, red and some purple.
As if that wasn't enough, small abnormalities kept popping up. I had to get new charts, do a rushed VFR flight log, then switch planes to something I'd rather not fly. When I got to the plane, the landing light was inop, and we needed fuel. The fuel truck wouldn't come to us in the drizzle, and it was getting so late we had started to rush. Too many holes in the cheese; besides that, it just didn't "feel" right. I spoke to my instructor and he agreed that he could also see some links starting to form in the error chain.
I was proud of myself. That's what being a pilot is all about- making decisions. The first command decision to be made on any flight is whether or not it's going to happen, and I'm glad my instructor agreed with my assessment. We both were eager to get this flight done, but good sense and airmanship prevailed, and we stayed on the ground. We're scheduled to try again this week, but the weather still looks uncooperative- we'll see.
As if that wasn't enough, small abnormalities kept popping up. I had to get new charts, do a rushed VFR flight log, then switch planes to something I'd rather not fly. When I got to the plane, the landing light was inop, and we needed fuel. The fuel truck wouldn't come to us in the drizzle, and it was getting so late we had started to rush. Too many holes in the cheese; besides that, it just didn't "feel" right. I spoke to my instructor and he agreed that he could also see some links starting to form in the error chain.
I was proud of myself. That's what being a pilot is all about- making decisions. The first command decision to be made on any flight is whether or not it's going to happen, and I'm glad my instructor agreed with my assessment. We both were eager to get this flight done, but good sense and airmanship prevailed, and we stayed on the ground. We're scheduled to try again this week, but the weather still looks uncooperative- we'll see.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Time to start writing in the DUAL column again
As part of my commercial training, I'm required to complete a trip with my instructor. The destination should be at least 100nm away, and the flight should be at least 2 hours. I think this requirement is a little silly for somebody who should have nearly 250hr. It's a bit of a waste of time IMHO. Not that I think I won't learn anything, but by this stage, that time (and MONEY) would be better spent on things like advanced maneuvers.
A pilot's got to do what a pilot's got to do, so this weekend I'll be off on another adventure. Hopefully I'm wrong, and I'll learn a lot more than I think I will. My bank account is unhappy though. The thought of paying for dual flight time sends chills down my wallet's spine.
A pilot's got to do what a pilot's got to do, so this weekend I'll be off on another adventure. Hopefully I'm wrong, and I'll learn a lot more than I think I will. My bank account is unhappy though. The thought of paying for dual flight time sends chills down my wallet's spine.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
How much is your safety worth?
It's not every day that the news media publishes sensible information, but yesterday MSNBC made a valiant effort.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30809955
The article touched on a key problem in the aviation industry- passengers expect to be flown safely to their destination, and pay next to nothing for that privilege. With airline prices as low as they are, airlines have to cut back on costs. Things like good maintenance, fuel and wages are probably the most expensive items on the list of costs.
When the crew is overworked, fatigued and underpaid, mistakes become more numerous. The crash of Colgan 3407 shows how fast a seemingly normal flight can end in a smoking hole in the ground.
Next time you board a plane, do you want the pilots to be on their omteenth leg at night, in the clouds, dodging thunderstorms in icing when they are tired and worrying about the bills? No, you want the industry's best pilots to be fresh and ready for the challenge. Nowadays, the pay and working conditions are driving the finest pilots out of the cockpit. Think about that nest time you grumble because you have to pay $200 to fly from Boston to Miami.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30809955
The article touched on a key problem in the aviation industry- passengers expect to be flown safely to their destination, and pay next to nothing for that privilege. With airline prices as low as they are, airlines have to cut back on costs. Things like good maintenance, fuel and wages are probably the most expensive items on the list of costs.
When the crew is overworked, fatigued and underpaid, mistakes become more numerous. The crash of Colgan 3407 shows how fast a seemingly normal flight can end in a smoking hole in the ground.
Next time you board a plane, do you want the pilots to be on their omteenth leg at night, in the clouds, dodging thunderstorms in icing when they are tired and worrying about the bills? No, you want the industry's best pilots to be fresh and ready for the challenge. Nowadays, the pay and working conditions are driving the finest pilots out of the cockpit. Think about that nest time you grumble because you have to pay $200 to fly from Boston to Miami.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
"Leaving 6,000, preceed direct Pahokee"
With the plane refueled by the ramp staff at Vero Beach, we hang out by the plane for a few moments enjoying a light night breeze. My friend tells me of some amazingly beautiful girl that he's agreed to fly with tomorrow. We chill out under the wing for a while while he describes how stunning she is. He's now piqued my interest, and I'm looking forward to meeting her. When I ask why he isn't interested in her, he admits he isn't interested in Latin ladies- oh well, that's his loss, not mine.
We get the clearance, and the tower issues a void time that's 4 minutes in the future. The clearance void time was issued because the tower was about to close. If I don't depart by that time, I'll need to call Miami Center to issue a new clearance. I don't bother to rush, because I know we won't make it. Just as we get to the runup area, the tower announces that he's closing up for the night. There's another aircraft on the frequency, and we both wish him a good night.
We complete the runup and get a new clearance from Miami Center. After takeoff, we contact Center and he tells us to fly east until reaching 6000ft, then turn direct to the Pahokee VOR. My PNF is about to accept the clearance by reading it back when I stop him. I don't think he fully understands the clearance. That would require us to fly some 13nm over the water before turning back towards the VOR. That's undesireble from an engine failure point of view. I state my concerns to the controller and ask for an alternative. We're told to fly South, the proceed to the VOR once leaving 5000ft. Thanks Mr. Miami Center!
The flight southbound is mostly uneventful. We penetrate a few small cumulous clouds on the way. Controlling the airplane in a cumulous cloud is difficult because the turbulence really gives you a beating. If you're not focussed, you'll find yourself 300ft high/low and 50 degrees off course. The controlller points out some traffic, and declines a few requests for flight following before handing us off to Palm Beach approach.
Approaching Tamiami, I get ready for an ILS approach. My PNF always laughts when I put on the view limiting device. He thinks it looks funny because he's never used anything like that in Europe. He claims what they do is to cover the forward windows! I find that hard to believe, and chalk it up to something that was lost in translation...
Some tine around here, my PNF completely loses it. He starts playing with the flashlight, shining it in my eyes, covering the instruments and announcing every swing of the compass. He even adjusts my headset! I'm getting more and more pissed, but I try to ignore the distractions and focus on the ILS. His antics continue all the way down to 200ft where I remove the hood, and see the runway just off to my right. The deviation is within standards, and I think I did a pretty good job considering I'd been flying with a maniac for the past few minutes.
I slow the plane and get it in the proper position for landing. At about 100ft, for no reason whatsoever, the PNF decides that Flaps 20 isn't enough, and moves the flap lever to full deflection (40 degrees). Needless to say, I'm a little shocked, and now the plane requires a massive amount of power to stay in the air. I contemplate raising the flaps to salvage the situation, but deem it too risky, as we're now at about 50ft. I make a decent landing, though not as good as I had wanted.
As we vacate the runway, I hear over the radio:
"Tamiami traffic, N123 entering runway 09R for departure, closed traffic."
N123, Tamiami tower, no you're not. The tower is still open and you'll need permission. Continue holding."
I start laughing hysterically, and almost immediately begin to forget the preceeding few minutes. As I'm securing the airplane, I reflect on what had happened. Was the PNF a jackass for doing all that crazy stuff? Yes. But maybe it was for the greater good. When I'm by myself, shooting an instrument approach down to minimums on a dark and stormy night, it won't be an easy, relaxing affair- it will be pretty stressful. I safely completed tonights approach and landing with all the distractions- it was thus a good training experience. I'm one step closer to dealing with that dark and stormy approach...
We get the clearance, and the tower issues a void time that's 4 minutes in the future. The clearance void time was issued because the tower was about to close. If I don't depart by that time, I'll need to call Miami Center to issue a new clearance. I don't bother to rush, because I know we won't make it. Just as we get to the runup area, the tower announces that he's closing up for the night. There's another aircraft on the frequency, and we both wish him a good night.
We complete the runup and get a new clearance from Miami Center. After takeoff, we contact Center and he tells us to fly east until reaching 6000ft, then turn direct to the Pahokee VOR. My PNF is about to accept the clearance by reading it back when I stop him. I don't think he fully understands the clearance. That would require us to fly some 13nm over the water before turning back towards the VOR. That's undesireble from an engine failure point of view. I state my concerns to the controller and ask for an alternative. We're told to fly South, the proceed to the VOR once leaving 5000ft. Thanks Mr. Miami Center!
The flight southbound is mostly uneventful. We penetrate a few small cumulous clouds on the way. Controlling the airplane in a cumulous cloud is difficult because the turbulence really gives you a beating. If you're not focussed, you'll find yourself 300ft high/low and 50 degrees off course. The controlller points out some traffic, and declines a few requests for flight following before handing us off to Palm Beach approach.
Approaching Tamiami, I get ready for an ILS approach. My PNF always laughts when I put on the view limiting device. He thinks it looks funny because he's never used anything like that in Europe. He claims what they do is to cover the forward windows! I find that hard to believe, and chalk it up to something that was lost in translation...
Some tine around here, my PNF completely loses it. He starts playing with the flashlight, shining it in my eyes, covering the instruments and announcing every swing of the compass. He even adjusts my headset! I'm getting more and more pissed, but I try to ignore the distractions and focus on the ILS. His antics continue all the way down to 200ft where I remove the hood, and see the runway just off to my right. The deviation is within standards, and I think I did a pretty good job considering I'd been flying with a maniac for the past few minutes.
I slow the plane and get it in the proper position for landing. At about 100ft, for no reason whatsoever, the PNF decides that Flaps 20 isn't enough, and moves the flap lever to full deflection (40 degrees). Needless to say, I'm a little shocked, and now the plane requires a massive amount of power to stay in the air. I contemplate raising the flaps to salvage the situation, but deem it too risky, as we're now at about 50ft. I make a decent landing, though not as good as I had wanted.
As we vacate the runway, I hear over the radio:
"Tamiami traffic, N123 entering runway 09R for departure, closed traffic."
N123, Tamiami tower, no you're not. The tower is still open and you'll need permission. Continue holding."
I start laughing hysterically, and almost immediately begin to forget the preceeding few minutes. As I'm securing the airplane, I reflect on what had happened. Was the PNF a jackass for doing all that crazy stuff? Yes. But maybe it was for the greater good. When I'm by myself, shooting an instrument approach down to minimums on a dark and stormy night, it won't be an easy, relaxing affair- it will be pretty stressful. I safely completed tonights approach and landing with all the distractions- it was thus a good training experience. I'm one step closer to dealing with that dark and stormy approach...
King Air incident
Chilling radar images and audio from the King Air incident the other day. For those of you who don't know, shortly after takeoff, the pilot of a King Air died. A single engine pilot on board was able to land the plane with the aid of the excellent controllers in the Fort Myers TRACON.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhMom-YHgoU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XhMom-YHgoU
Going to the beach
After several failed attempts, I'm finally sitting in the plane copying my ATC clearance to Daytona Beach. I'm pretty excited about going Daytona, since it's the site of the main Embry Riddle campus. For the uninitiated, ERAU (or "Riddle") is pretty much the best known flight school in the US; It may also be the biggest.
I'm the PNF on the first leg. As I'm programming the GPS on the way to the runway, I make a note (for the nth time) to find out how to enter airways in the unit so I don't have to program each waypoint manually. The first point in the flightplan is the Palm Beach VOR, which is maybe 60nm away. In theory, we can just take off and turn north and fly directly to Palm Beach. The South Florida airspace is way too busy for that though, so instead, the skilled controllers of the Miami TRACON keep the traffic flowing by making us zig-zag around the airspace until we're handed off to Palm Beach Approach, where we'll be told to proceed directly to some point down-route. Becausse of the zig-zags, the most expedient way to get someplace is to depart VFR then pick up the IFR clearance once you're well on your way. I don't do that since it puts extra stress on the controller who has to issue my clearence.
Shortly after being handed off to Miami Center, the PF suggests that since we got off to a late start, we should land at Vero Beach instead. Daytona Beach is still a far way off and he has to fly early tomorrow. I have to go to work in the morning too, so I get an ammended clearance from the controller. I'm concerned about the time. Our ETA is 8:10pm, and last time I visited the FBO closed at 8. If they're closed, we won't be able to get fuel. That was a Sunday, so hopefully they'll be open a bit later today. We request a visual approach in order to save time.
In no time, we've been vectored for a visual approach to Vero Beach. Turning final, there's a crosswind from the right, and the PF corrects for it. Now there are two methods for handling a crosswind. My preferred method is to crab the nose into the wind and maintain the airplane in coordinated flight. Just before touchdown, you align the nose with the runway so there's no side load on the gear. My PF prefers the wing low method, where you bank the plane into the wind, then use rudder to keep the nose on runway heading. This uncoordinated configuration is maintained until touchdown. I dislike the method for 2 reasons:
1. It stresses the airframe.
2. It's EXTREMELY uncomfortable. It's just about the most uncomfortable feeling you can experience in an airplane. I'm a pilot and I hate the feeling- I can only imagine what a non-pilot would feed like.
We fly a 2 mile final like this and my stomach turns. I'm trying my best not to feel sick. I look to my left and the PF is smiling boradly and cheering himself on. He's having the time of his life. He's trying for a greaser, so he keeps the power on as we float down the runway. For a second, I'm tempted to ask what the hell he's doing, and chop the power, but that would be both unprofessional and dangerous. We finally run out of airspeed and the plane settles onto the runway. A fairly smooth touchdown for sure, but we were way past the touchdown zone, so it almost doesn't count. I still compliment his touchdwon though.
We taxi to the ramp and find the FBO is still open. That's good. We grab a bite to eat and start preparing for the trip home. This time, it will be my turn to fly through the night sky.
I'm the PNF on the first leg. As I'm programming the GPS on the way to the runway, I make a note (for the nth time) to find out how to enter airways in the unit so I don't have to program each waypoint manually. The first point in the flightplan is the Palm Beach VOR, which is maybe 60nm away. In theory, we can just take off and turn north and fly directly to Palm Beach. The South Florida airspace is way too busy for that though, so instead, the skilled controllers of the Miami TRACON keep the traffic flowing by making us zig-zag around the airspace until we're handed off to Palm Beach Approach, where we'll be told to proceed directly to some point down-route. Becausse of the zig-zags, the most expedient way to get someplace is to depart VFR then pick up the IFR clearance once you're well on your way. I don't do that since it puts extra stress on the controller who has to issue my clearence.
Shortly after being handed off to Miami Center, the PF suggests that since we got off to a late start, we should land at Vero Beach instead. Daytona Beach is still a far way off and he has to fly early tomorrow. I have to go to work in the morning too, so I get an ammended clearance from the controller. I'm concerned about the time. Our ETA is 8:10pm, and last time I visited the FBO closed at 8. If they're closed, we won't be able to get fuel. That was a Sunday, so hopefully they'll be open a bit later today. We request a visual approach in order to save time.
In no time, we've been vectored for a visual approach to Vero Beach. Turning final, there's a crosswind from the right, and the PF corrects for it. Now there are two methods for handling a crosswind. My preferred method is to crab the nose into the wind and maintain the airplane in coordinated flight. Just before touchdown, you align the nose with the runway so there's no side load on the gear. My PF prefers the wing low method, where you bank the plane into the wind, then use rudder to keep the nose on runway heading. This uncoordinated configuration is maintained until touchdown. I dislike the method for 2 reasons:
1. It stresses the airframe.
2. It's EXTREMELY uncomfortable. It's just about the most uncomfortable feeling you can experience in an airplane. I'm a pilot and I hate the feeling- I can only imagine what a non-pilot would feed like.
We fly a 2 mile final like this and my stomach turns. I'm trying my best not to feel sick. I look to my left and the PF is smiling boradly and cheering himself on. He's having the time of his life. He's trying for a greaser, so he keeps the power on as we float down the runway. For a second, I'm tempted to ask what the hell he's doing, and chop the power, but that would be both unprofessional and dangerous. We finally run out of airspeed and the plane settles onto the runway. A fairly smooth touchdown for sure, but we were way past the touchdown zone, so it almost doesn't count. I still compliment his touchdwon though.
We taxi to the ramp and find the FBO is still open. That's good. We grab a bite to eat and start preparing for the trip home. This time, it will be my turn to fly through the night sky.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
"This is so cool"
I must have heard that fifty times on Friday.
A friend of mine has been wanting to go flying for a while, and I finally took him for a flight yesterday. Predictably, he wanted to fly the 172SP, since it's newer, more powerful and is in much better condition than the rest of the fleet. The wheel fairings make it look nice and sleek too.
I explain some of the major differences between flying an airliner and flying a small plane so he's not disturbed if the engine doesn't start on the 1st attempt, or if something sounds odd during the engine run on the ground.
We departed the airport to the east, remaining below 1500ft so he could admire the scenery. I gave him the controls so he could do a few climbs, descents and turns. It's always funny to watch somebody new to flying put both hands on the yoke. It never fails- I say "you have control" and immediately, both hands grip the yoke so tightly the knuckles go white.
As we turned North along the beach, I showed him that if he just let go, the plane would fly along quite happily all day. After that, the death grip went away, but both hands were still on the yoke. Oh well...
We go maybe 50 or 60 miles up the coast before turning back. I tell him to make a 180 degree turn and head south, and before I know it, we're in a 40 degree bank. Most first timers never bank more than about 15 degrees. I take over, and use the opportunity to show him a 60 degree steep turn. He got a kick out of feeling his weight double under the increased aerodynamic forces. He didn't too fancy the reduced gravity environment when I pushed the nose over to descend to to 500ft as we pass Fort Lauderdale. At the same time, all I'm hearing is "this is so cool, man".
All good things must come to an end, and we're soon on a short final to runway 09R. Because of the wind, I've crabbed the plane to stay on the centerline. He asks why the plane is pointing at the grass and not the runway. He doesn't know that if I aimed at the runway, I'd end up in the grass!!
Now, a smooth landing in an airplane (aka a "greaser") is 50% experience and 50% luck, and sometimes they come in waves. It so happened that the tide was out, and there was to be no greaser. We touched dows firmly and with no finesse whatsoever. He didn't think it was bad at all. I quickly explained that had my instructor been on board, he'd smack me upside the head and say "we're doing another one".
All in all, it was a good day (sans landing for me). My friend got lucky since we didn't have a hint of turbulence above ~700ft, so the ride was pretty smooth. He wants to fly again- let's see what we can work out.
A friend of mine has been wanting to go flying for a while, and I finally took him for a flight yesterday. Predictably, he wanted to fly the 172SP, since it's newer, more powerful and is in much better condition than the rest of the fleet. The wheel fairings make it look nice and sleek too.
I explain some of the major differences between flying an airliner and flying a small plane so he's not disturbed if the engine doesn't start on the 1st attempt, or if something sounds odd during the engine run on the ground.
We departed the airport to the east, remaining below 1500ft so he could admire the scenery. I gave him the controls so he could do a few climbs, descents and turns. It's always funny to watch somebody new to flying put both hands on the yoke. It never fails- I say "you have control" and immediately, both hands grip the yoke so tightly the knuckles go white.
As we turned North along the beach, I showed him that if he just let go, the plane would fly along quite happily all day. After that, the death grip went away, but both hands were still on the yoke. Oh well...
We go maybe 50 or 60 miles up the coast before turning back. I tell him to make a 180 degree turn and head south, and before I know it, we're in a 40 degree bank. Most first timers never bank more than about 15 degrees. I take over, and use the opportunity to show him a 60 degree steep turn. He got a kick out of feeling his weight double under the increased aerodynamic forces. He didn't too fancy the reduced gravity environment when I pushed the nose over to descend to to 500ft as we pass Fort Lauderdale. At the same time, all I'm hearing is "this is so cool, man".
All good things must come to an end, and we're soon on a short final to runway 09R. Because of the wind, I've crabbed the plane to stay on the centerline. He asks why the plane is pointing at the grass and not the runway. He doesn't know that if I aimed at the runway, I'd end up in the grass!!
Now, a smooth landing in an airplane (aka a "greaser") is 50% experience and 50% luck, and sometimes they come in waves. It so happened that the tide was out, and there was to be no greaser. We touched dows firmly and with no finesse whatsoever. He didn't think it was bad at all. I quickly explained that had my instructor been on board, he'd smack me upside the head and say "we're doing another one".
All in all, it was a good day (sans landing for me). My friend got lucky since we didn't have a hint of turbulence above ~700ft, so the ride was pretty smooth. He wants to fly again- let's see what we can work out.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
It's been a while...
Right now, I'm in the hour-building phase of my training. I haven't flown at all in the last week though, as my partner in crime has gone AWOL. We're supposed to be flying tomorrow though, so lets hope he shows up this time.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Northbound to Orlando
As I drive to the airport from work, I’m excited. Today’s adventure takes us to Kissimmee (KISM), which is just southwest of one the 3 major airports in Florida- Orlando McCoy. It’s not unusual to be dodging airline traffic on the way to the Orlando TRACON. We’re flying my favorite airplane in the fleet- 01A. I’ve long enjoyed flying this plane, because everything works more or less the way it should. No need to say “we’ll just make do” in this airplane, since it’s well taken care of. I haven’t flown it for a while though. I recently finished my instrument training, and I liked to leave that plane for other students going on cross country flights, so today will be the first time in a few months.
I arrive at the flight school and start chatting with the staff. It’s hard to find a nicer group of people. In a few minutes, my flying pal turns up. He’s in the US to build a few hundred hours. I like flying with him. Even though we’ve only done a few flights, he seems like a pretty good pilot. There is one caveat though- English is not his first language, so we have to be extra careful with our communication so there is no misunderstanding. The good thing is that (unlike some of the other pilots I’ve flown with) he acknowledges his weakness and will normally let me talk to ATC if he gets confused.
Preflight complete, the plane is in top shape, and we get the clearance and start taxiing to the runway. The PNF does the taxi as I set up the GPS. He’s forgotten to adjust his seat and visibility is a little difficult for him, so I keep an eye on how things are going. There’s a King Air on the ramp who will be taxiing to our runway. ATC asks if he’ll be ready to go when reaching the runway. Since the pilot says yes, and we’ll have to do an engine run, we’re told to give way to the twin turboprop. He moves onto the taxiway and promptly starts taxiing at 1.25 knots, sometimes stopping to watch the grass grow. AAAARRRGGGHHHH!
A few minutes later, all our checklists are complete, and we’re cleared for takeoff. As we line up on the runway, I do a brief mental checklist. Cleared for takeoff, I smoothly advance the throttle to full power and off we go. Engine instruments are all in the green and the plane is accelerating normally. We rotate, and I immediately need to add a bit more rudder to maintain runway heading, as assigned.
Until now, I have done all of the radio work. The PNF is reluctant to use the radio because of his weakness. I tell him that the only way to improve is to practice, so I want him to start talking to ATC. We come up with a plan to help him with his RT skills. This is a pretty important thing to do. Firstly, as an aspiring airline pilot, he needs to ensure that his aviation English is up to speed. Unless you’re flying into some remote landing strip in the middle of nowhere, the default language used in ATC communication will be English. Secondly, having the non-flying pilot talk to ATC keeps both pilots in the loop, and so situational awareness is enhanced- you can never have too much situational awareness in the crowded skies over south Florida. ATC vectors us up the south east coast to stay clear of the jet traffic. As we pass Fort Lauderdale international, we are in and out of clouds, climbing through 4000ft.
With Palm Beach approach, we are told turn to heading 360 to intercept the V531 airway. “Um, we are on a heading of 360”. I understand the controller’s confusion. The wind is causing our track to be some 20 degrees west of our heading. We’re flying almost parallel to the airway, and aren’t going to intercept it for some distance, so ATC clears us to proceed direct BAIRN, a waypoint pretty close to the destination. We put that into the GPS and turn towards the fix. I adjust the heading to correct for the wind.
Closer to the destination, I check the weather. Conditions favor an easterly landing, so I brief the GPS approach to runway 6, which is good because it’s a short taxi to the FBO, where fuel price is a relatively cheap $3.15 per gallon. Around now, It’s time to turn on the instrument lights. I rotate the dial, but all the instruments are still in the dark. I go to full intensity, but still nothing. Great. I’m about to fly an approach at night with no instrument lighting. I’m starting to get pissed, but I try not to lose sight of the big picture- I still have to safely navigate to the ground. I pull out a flashlight and have the PNF hold it in position. Becaue of the shadows, it’s sub-optimal, but it’ll have to do.
As we pass the waypoint depicting the start of the approach, I put on the foggles to block my view outside the plane. This is one of the “T-approaches” where a 90 degree turn is required to intercept the final approach course. It’s a fun challenge to properly time the turn to final, because you don’t want to overshoot. I’m paying careful attention to the groundspeed and track. I overshoot by a little, but not too much, so I’m soon back on course. Now that I have an accurate groundspeed for the final approach, I can refine the rate of descent required to achieve a normal glidepath to the runway.
Unfortunately, a problem I’ve been trying to ignore for the entire flight is finally proving too much to handle. The course deviation indicator on the GPS (that shows us how far off course we are) is now oscillating wildly now that the unit sensitivity has been increased for the approach phase. I’m trying to fly a smooth approach, but it’s getting ridiculous. I elect to remove the hood and continue visually, as I see no need to subject myself and the PNF to the stress associated with a defective indicator.
The wind is fairly strong and again and I elect to land with 20 degrees of flaps. As we cross the fence, I wait for the landing light to illuminate the ground so I can better judge my height in the darkness. I wait some more- nothing. Great. The landing light is inoperative. Nothing can be done about it now. I just have to make do with the illumination provided by the runway lights that appear to be set to low intensity. I try my best, and we settle onto the runway with a safe, but inelegant thud. I am not amused.
As we taxi to the parking spot in the darkness, I make a mental note to write up all the maintenance discrepancies on this flight. When did all these things go wrong with the star aircraft in the fleet? The tower informs us that the clearance back home is available on request. We plan to be back in the air within half an hour, sans landing and instrument lights. I think that it’s going to be an interesting ride back south.
I arrive at the flight school and start chatting with the staff. It’s hard to find a nicer group of people. In a few minutes, my flying pal turns up. He’s in the US to build a few hundred hours. I like flying with him. Even though we’ve only done a few flights, he seems like a pretty good pilot. There is one caveat though- English is not his first language, so we have to be extra careful with our communication so there is no misunderstanding. The good thing is that (unlike some of the other pilots I’ve flown with) he acknowledges his weakness and will normally let me talk to ATC if he gets confused.
Preflight complete, the plane is in top shape, and we get the clearance and start taxiing to the runway. The PNF does the taxi as I set up the GPS. He’s forgotten to adjust his seat and visibility is a little difficult for him, so I keep an eye on how things are going. There’s a King Air on the ramp who will be taxiing to our runway. ATC asks if he’ll be ready to go when reaching the runway. Since the pilot says yes, and we’ll have to do an engine run, we’re told to give way to the twin turboprop. He moves onto the taxiway and promptly starts taxiing at 1.25 knots, sometimes stopping to watch the grass grow. AAAARRRGGGHHHH!
A few minutes later, all our checklists are complete, and we’re cleared for takeoff. As we line up on the runway, I do a brief mental checklist. Cleared for takeoff, I smoothly advance the throttle to full power and off we go. Engine instruments are all in the green and the plane is accelerating normally. We rotate, and I immediately need to add a bit more rudder to maintain runway heading, as assigned.
Until now, I have done all of the radio work. The PNF is reluctant to use the radio because of his weakness. I tell him that the only way to improve is to practice, so I want him to start talking to ATC. We come up with a plan to help him with his RT skills. This is a pretty important thing to do. Firstly, as an aspiring airline pilot, he needs to ensure that his aviation English is up to speed. Unless you’re flying into some remote landing strip in the middle of nowhere, the default language used in ATC communication will be English. Secondly, having the non-flying pilot talk to ATC keeps both pilots in the loop, and so situational awareness is enhanced- you can never have too much situational awareness in the crowded skies over south Florida. ATC vectors us up the south east coast to stay clear of the jet traffic. As we pass Fort Lauderdale international, we are in and out of clouds, climbing through 4000ft.
With Palm Beach approach, we are told turn to heading 360 to intercept the V531 airway. “Um, we are on a heading of 360”. I understand the controller’s confusion. The wind is causing our track to be some 20 degrees west of our heading. We’re flying almost parallel to the airway, and aren’t going to intercept it for some distance, so ATC clears us to proceed direct BAIRN, a waypoint pretty close to the destination. We put that into the GPS and turn towards the fix. I adjust the heading to correct for the wind.
Closer to the destination, I check the weather. Conditions favor an easterly landing, so I brief the GPS approach to runway 6, which is good because it’s a short taxi to the FBO, where fuel price is a relatively cheap $3.15 per gallon. Around now, It’s time to turn on the instrument lights. I rotate the dial, but all the instruments are still in the dark. I go to full intensity, but still nothing. Great. I’m about to fly an approach at night with no instrument lighting. I’m starting to get pissed, but I try not to lose sight of the big picture- I still have to safely navigate to the ground. I pull out a flashlight and have the PNF hold it in position. Becaue of the shadows, it’s sub-optimal, but it’ll have to do.
As we pass the waypoint depicting the start of the approach, I put on the foggles to block my view outside the plane. This is one of the “T-approaches” where a 90 degree turn is required to intercept the final approach course. It’s a fun challenge to properly time the turn to final, because you don’t want to overshoot. I’m paying careful attention to the groundspeed and track. I overshoot by a little, but not too much, so I’m soon back on course. Now that I have an accurate groundspeed for the final approach, I can refine the rate of descent required to achieve a normal glidepath to the runway.
Unfortunately, a problem I’ve been trying to ignore for the entire flight is finally proving too much to handle. The course deviation indicator on the GPS (that shows us how far off course we are) is now oscillating wildly now that the unit sensitivity has been increased for the approach phase. I’m trying to fly a smooth approach, but it’s getting ridiculous. I elect to remove the hood and continue visually, as I see no need to subject myself and the PNF to the stress associated with a defective indicator.
The wind is fairly strong and again and I elect to land with 20 degrees of flaps. As we cross the fence, I wait for the landing light to illuminate the ground so I can better judge my height in the darkness. I wait some more- nothing. Great. The landing light is inoperative. Nothing can be done about it now. I just have to make do with the illumination provided by the runway lights that appear to be set to low intensity. I try my best, and we settle onto the runway with a safe, but inelegant thud. I am not amused.
As we taxi to the parking spot in the darkness, I make a mental note to write up all the maintenance discrepancies on this flight. When did all these things go wrong with the star aircraft in the fleet? The tower informs us that the clearance back home is available on request. We plan to be back in the air within half an hour, sans landing and instrument lights. I think that it’s going to be an interesting ride back south.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Return from Vero Beach
Fully fuelled and ready to go, we get the current weather at Vero Beach. I can see the Global Express will be departing shortly. I’d love to stay and watch it leave, because it really is a beautiful plane. I imagine myself sitting in the cockpit and going through the myriad of preflight flows. For a moment I’m lost in my imagination as I feel like a 5 year old again, seeing the majesty of this 50 ton airplane heading for lands far away. My PF brings me back to reality by reminding me that we need to get back before dark because of the unserviceable landing light.
All good things must come to and end, and so I jump into the right seat of the cockpit and start reading the checklist. Since I flew to Vero Beach, he’s the pilot flying (PF) on the return trip, and I will perform the duties of the pilot not flying (PNF). That means I handle the radios, charts etc. so that they are handy whenever he needs them.
We taxi out to the runway and perform the runup. We move slowly past the Global Express to admire its majesty. Runup complete, we are cleared for takeoff. As we pass 200ft, I take a quick glance at the bizjet with it’s gracefully swept wings engulfing the taxiway. Soon enough…
We contact Miami center and request flight following along the heavily trafficked eastern coast. Flight following does not abrogate our duty to look out for traffic, as the controller’s main responsibility is IFR traffic, so we keep scanning to make sure we don’t bump into anybody. Shortly after contacting Palm Beach approach, we learn that the transponder is inoperative, and our troubleshooting efforts are unsuccessful. The controller is in a good mood today though, and seems to be watching us with only the primary target on his radar display. We are grateful for his assistance.
I’m starting to worry about getting back to Tamiami. All aircraft in the vicinity of Miami International are required to have a functioning transponder. Just before leaving Palm Beach’s airspace, I ask the controller about coordinating with Miami approach to let us enter the airspace without the transponder. He tells us that it now appears to be working normally. I am relieved, but continue thinking of a backup plan in case the thing goes titts up again.
Southbound, we get to fly over Fort Lauderdale international. It’s kind of cool to see the airport below you, looking pretty much like a diagram. We’re turned to the east to transition Miami’s airspace along the coast. At this point, I request vectors for the ILS at Tamiami so the PF can maintain proficiency. It will add a few minutes to the flight, but we should have enough light to complete a normal landing. When we get switched to the final approach controller, my favorite airplane in the fleet is practicing approaches. I’d rather be in that airplane. I chuckle as the controller points out that another airplane practicing approaches is half a mile north of the localizer. The confused sounding student acknowledges and states that he is correcting. I can almost see the instructor sitting in the right seat with his blood boiling.
We are vectored around the field for the approach and are told to maintain visual contact with the preceding traffic. His approach seems a little off too, as this airplane is well south of the approach path. Something tells me his instructor is going to make him do a missed approach. The PF completes the approach and does a good landing. This is my first landing with him, and I’m not disappointed. We taxi to the ramp just as the last of the sunlight is fading; our timing is good today. I can’t wait to get home- a seafood dinner awaits!
All good things must come to and end, and so I jump into the right seat of the cockpit and start reading the checklist. Since I flew to Vero Beach, he’s the pilot flying (PF) on the return trip, and I will perform the duties of the pilot not flying (PNF). That means I handle the radios, charts etc. so that they are handy whenever he needs them.
We taxi out to the runway and perform the runup. We move slowly past the Global Express to admire its majesty. Runup complete, we are cleared for takeoff. As we pass 200ft, I take a quick glance at the bizjet with it’s gracefully swept wings engulfing the taxiway. Soon enough…
We contact Miami center and request flight following along the heavily trafficked eastern coast. Flight following does not abrogate our duty to look out for traffic, as the controller’s main responsibility is IFR traffic, so we keep scanning to make sure we don’t bump into anybody. Shortly after contacting Palm Beach approach, we learn that the transponder is inoperative, and our troubleshooting efforts are unsuccessful. The controller is in a good mood today though, and seems to be watching us with only the primary target on his radar display. We are grateful for his assistance.
I’m starting to worry about getting back to Tamiami. All aircraft in the vicinity of Miami International are required to have a functioning transponder. Just before leaving Palm Beach’s airspace, I ask the controller about coordinating with Miami approach to let us enter the airspace without the transponder. He tells us that it now appears to be working normally. I am relieved, but continue thinking of a backup plan in case the thing goes titts up again.
Southbound, we get to fly over Fort Lauderdale international. It’s kind of cool to see the airport below you, looking pretty much like a diagram. We’re turned to the east to transition Miami’s airspace along the coast. At this point, I request vectors for the ILS at Tamiami so the PF can maintain proficiency. It will add a few minutes to the flight, but we should have enough light to complete a normal landing. When we get switched to the final approach controller, my favorite airplane in the fleet is practicing approaches. I’d rather be in that airplane. I chuckle as the controller points out that another airplane practicing approaches is half a mile north of the localizer. The confused sounding student acknowledges and states that he is correcting. I can almost see the instructor sitting in the right seat with his blood boiling.
We are vectored around the field for the approach and are told to maintain visual contact with the preceding traffic. His approach seems a little off too, as this airplane is well south of the approach path. Something tells me his instructor is going to make him do a missed approach. The PF completes the approach and does a good landing. This is my first landing with him, and I’m not disappointed. We taxi to the ramp just as the last of the sunlight is fading; our timing is good today. I can’t wait to get home- a seafood dinner awaits!
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Visiting Vero Beach
Today, I find myself in 02B. We're leaving Tamiami VFR along the coast all the way to Vero Beach. We arrive at the airplane and I am reminded that it's no SP, but having flown it before, I know it doesn't have any unduly unpleasant characteristics. It even has a "proper" flap selector. My PNF attends to the external inspection while I set up the cockpit. He brings to my attention that the baggage door is tempestuous and is only "sort-of" locked. We try our best to secure it and remember to avoid steep turns to the left!
Since we anticipate the flight continuing into the night, we're careful to inspect the external lights before we depart. Unfortunately we discover that the landing and taxi lights are both inoperative. While not required, it isn't prudent to fly at night without a landing light, so we decide not to waste too much time faffing about. We want to get back home before the sunlight runs out. The PNF goes back inside to grab something for his in-flight meal while I fill out the paperwork for the inoperative lights. Ten minutes later, we're back in the plane and ready to go. I'm told we have full fuel- more than enough for a 2 hour trip. The engine starts on the second attempt and the clock starts ticking. As the PNF sets up the Garmin 430 GPS for the flight, I taxi the airplane out of the ramp towards the taxiway. I have to be careful moving the airplane between 2 rows of aircraft- a little too far left or right and the wingtip will touch something- not good.
Safely out of the parking ramp, I push the PTT switch:
Tamiami Ground, good afternoon, 02B
Silence
Tamiami Ground, good afternoon, 02B
No reply
I'm hearing other transmissions on the frequency, so I know the volume is properly adjusted.
Ground, 02B, how do you read?
At this point, I notice that the transmit caption on the GPS is not displayed, indicating that the radio is not transmitting. I exchange a knowing glance with the PNF as he pushes his PTT button.
Tamimi ground, 02B.
02B, Tamiami ground, go ahead.
02B with ATIS Bravo, requesting taxi for departure to the north, flight following to Vero Beach
02B, Taxi to nine left via Delta. Standby for the squawk.
I hold the brakes. My PNF asks if I'm sure I'd like to fly with my PTT inoperative. He's comfortable if I am. I think about it for a second; although I've never seen him fly, he's competent on the radio, and I'm willing to make the trip. I release the brakes and start taxiing towards the runway. I note that the right fuel tank indicates only 75%. I think of the regulation that states that the fuel quantity indicators need to read zero when there's that much usable fuel left. Nothing says they need to be accurate at other fuel levels. I wonder why that rule isn't in place...
Ground gets back to us with the transponder code and departure frequency. The PNF sets up the avionics accordingly. As we approach the runway, the windsock is standing at attention in the 20 knot wind. Thankfully the wind is straight down the runway, so directional control should not be a problem. We do the engine run and all seems well. During the flight control check, I feel the airplane pitch up and down as we test the elevators. A 20 knot wind will do that to a one ton airplane.
Runup complete, we're cleared for takeoff. The acceleration is brisk (for a 172) and the climbout is equally impressive at about 800 feet per minute. That's nothing for the jet jocks, but for an airplane with a 160hp engine, it's quite a feat. We level off briefly and she wastes no time accelerating to 110kt before I pull back the power. This airplane most likely has a climb propeller. We contact Miami approach and are told to proceed northbound once we get to the coast. We're cleared to maintain VFR below 2500ft. In short order, we level off at 2000ft, as further climb will probably put us in the clouds. Hopefully we can get to fly over Fort Lauderdale at this altitude. As we go along the beach, we're still low enough to spot hundreds of people soaking up the sun.
Unfortunately, we're not allowed to fly over Fort Lauderdale today, so we're told to fly east of the shore below 500ft. From an engine failure point of view, this is not good, but I have faith in the powerplant, and take the opportunity t admire the scenery going by at 90knots. We continue up the coast at that altitude until we're past Boca Raton, where we're told to contact Palm Beach Approach. They clear us to 2500ft while remaining clear of clouds. Again, we stop at 2000ft to satisfy that condition.
We're around half way there, and everything is going pretty smoothly. I decide to practice my approaches, and select the VOR approach into Vero Beach. I find it amusing that such a relatively large airport hasn't got an ILS. Doesn't matter anyway, I've done plenty of ILS approaches, but only 2 VOR's so this will be fun. Plus, this is one of the few aircraft that is equipped with Distance Measuring Equipment (DME), so I'm happy to be able to use it.
The PNF requests the VOR approach to runway 11R, the southerly of the two parallel runways at Vero beach. Once we start getting vectored for the approach, I put on the hood (view limiting device) so that I can't see outside. I remind my PNF that he's now fully responsible for making sure we don't hit anything.
The approach goes pretty well, and I manage to keep the needle within one a dot deflection. Not bad considering we've got wind from the east at 14kt, gusting to 21, so we're getting a pretty bumpy ride. At the minimum descent altitude, I remove the foggles and I'm nicely lined up with the runway. Now comes the hard part- landing the thing. In light of the wind condition, I elect to fly the last segment of the approach at 70kt. The decision of what flap setting to use is tricky today. A lower setting affords better directional control, but a higher setting means I have better forward visibility. I elect to land with 20 degrees of flaps. The controls will be slightly mushy, but I'll clearly see where I'm going. The gusts seem even stronger than advertised, because the airspeed is fluctuating by a bit more than 10 knots. A gust of wind comes along at 200ft and drops the wing maybe 20 degrees. My PNF expresses his displeasure at the situation, and I'm sure he's thinking about going around.
As I cross the runway threshold, The speed starts bleeding off just as planned. We float a bit because of the excess speed, but I'm aggressive with the controls. The last thing I want is to stall too high above the runway. As I flare for the touchdown, I resist the urget to just let it plop onto the ground like a drunken duck. I do as I was taught, and fly it all the way to the ground. The touchdown is smooth, but positive, just as I hoped. We slow down, and The PNF makes some comment about being happy he didn't have to do that landing. I grin to myself. It wasn't the most challenging landing I've done, but it did take effort to complete safely. We vacate the runway, and I turn off the strobes and raise the flaps as we taxi towards the FBO. We pass a Global Express, my all time favorite business jet, and I think of how much smoother the approach would be in an airplane fifty times the weight of mine. One day...
Since we anticipate the flight continuing into the night, we're careful to inspect the external lights before we depart. Unfortunately we discover that the landing and taxi lights are both inoperative. While not required, it isn't prudent to fly at night without a landing light, so we decide not to waste too much time faffing about. We want to get back home before the sunlight runs out. The PNF goes back inside to grab something for his in-flight meal while I fill out the paperwork for the inoperative lights. Ten minutes later, we're back in the plane and ready to go. I'm told we have full fuel- more than enough for a 2 hour trip. The engine starts on the second attempt and the clock starts ticking. As the PNF sets up the Garmin 430 GPS for the flight, I taxi the airplane out of the ramp towards the taxiway. I have to be careful moving the airplane between 2 rows of aircraft- a little too far left or right and the wingtip will touch something- not good.
Safely out of the parking ramp, I push the PTT switch:
Tamiami Ground, good afternoon, 02B
Silence
Tamiami Ground, good afternoon, 02B
No reply
I'm hearing other transmissions on the frequency, so I know the volume is properly adjusted.
Ground, 02B, how do you read?
At this point, I notice that the transmit caption on the GPS is not displayed, indicating that the radio is not transmitting. I exchange a knowing glance with the PNF as he pushes his PTT button.
Tamimi ground, 02B.
02B, Tamiami ground, go ahead.
02B with ATIS Bravo, requesting taxi for departure to the north, flight following to Vero Beach
02B, Taxi to nine left via Delta. Standby for the squawk.
I hold the brakes. My PNF asks if I'm sure I'd like to fly with my PTT inoperative. He's comfortable if I am. I think about it for a second; although I've never seen him fly, he's competent on the radio, and I'm willing to make the trip. I release the brakes and start taxiing towards the runway. I note that the right fuel tank indicates only 75%. I think of the regulation that states that the fuel quantity indicators need to read zero when there's that much usable fuel left. Nothing says they need to be accurate at other fuel levels. I wonder why that rule isn't in place...
Ground gets back to us with the transponder code and departure frequency. The PNF sets up the avionics accordingly. As we approach the runway, the windsock is standing at attention in the 20 knot wind. Thankfully the wind is straight down the runway, so directional control should not be a problem. We do the engine run and all seems well. During the flight control check, I feel the airplane pitch up and down as we test the elevators. A 20 knot wind will do that to a one ton airplane.
Runup complete, we're cleared for takeoff. The acceleration is brisk (for a 172) and the climbout is equally impressive at about 800 feet per minute. That's nothing for the jet jocks, but for an airplane with a 160hp engine, it's quite a feat. We level off briefly and she wastes no time accelerating to 110kt before I pull back the power. This airplane most likely has a climb propeller. We contact Miami approach and are told to proceed northbound once we get to the coast. We're cleared to maintain VFR below 2500ft. In short order, we level off at 2000ft, as further climb will probably put us in the clouds. Hopefully we can get to fly over Fort Lauderdale at this altitude. As we go along the beach, we're still low enough to spot hundreds of people soaking up the sun.
Unfortunately, we're not allowed to fly over Fort Lauderdale today, so we're told to fly east of the shore below 500ft. From an engine failure point of view, this is not good, but I have faith in the powerplant, and take the opportunity t admire the scenery going by at 90knots. We continue up the coast at that altitude until we're past Boca Raton, where we're told to contact Palm Beach Approach. They clear us to 2500ft while remaining clear of clouds. Again, we stop at 2000ft to satisfy that condition.
We're around half way there, and everything is going pretty smoothly. I decide to practice my approaches, and select the VOR approach into Vero Beach. I find it amusing that such a relatively large airport hasn't got an ILS. Doesn't matter anyway, I've done plenty of ILS approaches, but only 2 VOR's so this will be fun. Plus, this is one of the few aircraft that is equipped with Distance Measuring Equipment (DME), so I'm happy to be able to use it.
The PNF requests the VOR approach to runway 11R, the southerly of the two parallel runways at Vero beach. Once we start getting vectored for the approach, I put on the hood (view limiting device) so that I can't see outside. I remind my PNF that he's now fully responsible for making sure we don't hit anything.
The approach goes pretty well, and I manage to keep the needle within one a dot deflection. Not bad considering we've got wind from the east at 14kt, gusting to 21, so we're getting a pretty bumpy ride. At the minimum descent altitude, I remove the foggles and I'm nicely lined up with the runway. Now comes the hard part- landing the thing. In light of the wind condition, I elect to fly the last segment of the approach at 70kt. The decision of what flap setting to use is tricky today. A lower setting affords better directional control, but a higher setting means I have better forward visibility. I elect to land with 20 degrees of flaps. The controls will be slightly mushy, but I'll clearly see where I'm going. The gusts seem even stronger than advertised, because the airspeed is fluctuating by a bit more than 10 knots. A gust of wind comes along at 200ft and drops the wing maybe 20 degrees. My PNF expresses his displeasure at the situation, and I'm sure he's thinking about going around.
As I cross the runway threshold, The speed starts bleeding off just as planned. We float a bit because of the excess speed, but I'm aggressive with the controls. The last thing I want is to stall too high above the runway. As I flare for the touchdown, I resist the urget to just let it plop onto the ground like a drunken duck. I do as I was taught, and fly it all the way to the ground. The touchdown is smooth, but positive, just as I hoped. We slow down, and The PNF makes some comment about being happy he didn't have to do that landing. I grin to myself. It wasn't the most challenging landing I've done, but it did take effort to complete safely. We vacate the runway, and I turn off the strobes and raise the flaps as we taxi towards the FBO. We pass a Global Express, my all time favorite business jet, and I think of how much smoother the approach would be in an airplane fifty times the weight of mine. One day...
Monday, April 27, 2009
Preparation
I'm a private pilot who hopes to make it to the airline world one day. I've started blogging to share my experiences in the world of flight training so folks can experience a day in the life of a wannabe airline pilot.
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