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...

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.

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.

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.

"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...

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

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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!