Air Traffic Controllers Usually Do An Outstanding Job

Just recently the quick thinking of an air traffic controller in the Midwest saved the life of an older couple in a high flying Cirrus. You probably have heard or read about it. As the controller was communicating with the pilot, he noticed that the pilots speech became slurred. To the controller that meant one thing, probable hypoxia. The plane was at 17000 feet, and was unpressurized. So, if the pilot and passenger were on oxygen, maybe something wasn’t working right.

The controller immediately shifted his focus to this pilot, in spite of working numerous other aircraft. He was able to talk with the pilot's wife, in the right seat, a non pilot. She had to take over the controls, which in this case meant learning to work the autopilot. She accomplished that with with the help of a nearby commuter turboprop pilot who followed along, assisting in this dramatic rescue. The goal of the controller was to have the plane descend to a lower altitude so the increased oxygen in the air would revive the pilot. This plan worked and finally the pilot was able to resume control of the plane and safely land as the hypoxia cleared.

In my opinion, this is juxtaposed to the mishandling of an A36 pilot in the mountains of the southeast by ATC. In that case a somewhat rusty, questionably skilled instrument pilot was placed on a vector into high terrain, below a safe altitude, and wasn’t alerted before he augured in. The official NTSB report doesn’t clearly define who was responsible, only that the pilot did not request specific flight following to warn of low terrain. Yes, there were some extenuating circumstances, but I believe them to be poor excuses. The bottom line is that a pilot crashed and burned on ATC’s watch.

OK, now compare this to the first example. Rather than consider who was responsible for the condition of the pilot ie. pilot or controller, the controller intervened immediately. Thus began a successful scenario that ultimately saved all aboard. ( By the way this dramatic event is available on the FAA website under Accident and Incident Data: Air Traffic Control Tapes-Cirrus, May 11, 2011)

My personal experiences with ATC have almost always been positive. I had some rather scary scenarios early in my career. For example, a flight between Syracuse and Boston in a Cherokee 140 almost ended in disaster. It was a long flight with deteriorating weather along the route. ATC helped out by suggesting a course of action that got us on the ground before the fuel ran out. Other times, a helpful vector or a shortened approach in bad weather, or a heads up warning of low terrain were greatly appreciated by me. That is why I felt so bad when I read about the crash of the plane in the mountains, an area I have flown in many times.

ATC does an outstanding job everyday, handling thousands of flights safely. Their fine work mostly goes unnoticed. So, when there is a goof, why not step up to the plate, accept some blame and then FIX the problem?

I Wonder Now More Than Ever, How Prepared Some Pilots Are....

I wonder now, more than ever, how prepared some pilots are for what they are about to encounter, whatever that may be. A difficult instrument approach, landing in a crosswind or just starting up and taxiing are some examples. If you check the FAA accident sites as often as I do you, you will understand my concern. Another stimulus to these thoughts occurred to me when observing the irrational and totally dangerous things that pedestrians and drivers can do at times. I wonder whether that impatience or inconsideration has worked its way into the cockpit.

For example, while waiting to cross a street on foot in Charleston, SC, the blaring sounds of a fire truck horn and siren stopped us dead in our tracks. Watching anxiously for the truck, here came a stretch limo turning directly unto the road in front of the oncoming fire engine. Luckily the engine could get by the unfazed limo. Not only that, a pedestrian stepped off the curb without looking, almost getting hit by an ambulance racing close behind the fire truck. So what gives?

Are people too engrossed in their lives to pay attention to what’s out there? Is it that they just don’t want to follow or play by the rules? Or, more cynically do they just not give a damn? Now for the common man that’s one thing, but for a pilot to think like that, it becomes personal for me. OK, look at some of the reported accidents. Here are some examples seen on a daily basis. Planes land long ending up in the water, or land short and suffer major damage. How hard is it to remember to lower the gear and to check for three green (or maybe just one) light? Flying into weather conditions that one is not able to handle is another often fatal error. Starting the engine before having done a good pre-flight and forgetting to pull the chocks or check the gas caps are more examples.

In my last article I reviewed some flights into heavy IFR resulting in fatal crashes. These were flown by very experienced pilots. Maybe experience isn’t always the best teacher after all. Just maybe it leads to complacency and the attitude “it can’t happen to me”. Oh yes it can and will if you don’t play by the rules. It requires discipline among other things such as knowledge, to safely fly an airplane. Not only to follow certain rules, but to understand basic aeronautical physics, as well as to have an understanding of the correct parameters such as airspeeds for all the flight configurations one might encounter. Such as: stall speeds at different bank angles, proper climb speeds and approach speeds under various flap/gear configurations. Wow, there is just a lot to know isn’t there?

I think back to my earliest flying days and realize just how much I didn’t know. But then I wasn’t flying complex airplanes in complex environments in rotten weather. Flying the J-3 Cub out of a small airport was a way for me to learn basic flying skills without the encumbrance of radios, sophisticated navigation or even an electrical system. I just had to FLY the airplane. If it was uncoordinated flight a little string would dangle off kilter below the compass. The needle and ball wouldn’t be centered. If instead I had taken my training in a complex airplane, maybe I would have let the autopilot do most of the work. If more pilots had more basic flight training, then perhaps they would know how to crab into a cross wind when needed on landing. Or, they might just pay more attention to correct approach speeds, as for example for a short field landing over an obstacle such as trees. Several landing accidents in high performance Cirrus type aircraft would attest to that.

So, as more distractions present to those in the cockpit, it will take more effort to just fly the airplane. The gadgets are great at times, but really do nothing for the thrill of flying. Also, try to leave some of the anxieties of modern life behind on the runway, you might just enjoy the flight that much more.

One Of The Things That Stays Emblazened In My Mind:Never Bust Minimums

One of the things that stays emblazoned in my mind is: never bust minimums. No not never! Minimums are there because the powers to be have decided that is as low as you can safely descend without ground reference.*

Oh, sorry. I am of course writing about instrument approaches. Particularly about following the prescribed approach procedures to the letter. Why am I writing about this? Because I just reviewed some recent fatal accidents on the NTSB web site. This website is recommended for any serious pilot by the way. A good place to learn from the mistakes of others.

Two recent accidents stand out. Both resulted in pilot and passenger deaths and destroyed airplanes. Both were flown by airline transport rated pilots (ATP’s). So maybe experience isn’t always the best teacher.

In the first accident, a Beech twin tried unsuccessfully to land at weather below minimums. Specifically: ¼ mile viz in light drizzle and a ceiling of 100 ft. The lowest minimums allowed on an ILS are ½ mile viz and a ceiling of 200 ft. Yes, there are lower minimums at some facilities, but these above are standard. To go below these requires special equipment and training (not generally available to the general aviation pilot).

In the second accident, again an ATP rated pilot makes a fatally bad decision in a light twin. Flying an RNAV GPS approach with a minimum descent altitude (MDA) of about 500 ft above ground the pilot continues decent to almost 250 ft above ground and crashes killing all, and destroying the plane. You have to wonder what were those guys thinking? They did not declare an emergency in either case, so conceivably could have continued to a safe alternate. Anyone filing an IFR flight plan must list an alternate airport. To list an alternate, the weather at the ETA must be at or better than 600/2 for a precision approach (ILS), or 800/2 for a non precision approach (GPS or VOR). Sometimes that means cancelling the trip if it becomes unlikely that an alternate can meet these weather conditions and/or if the amount of fuel aboard is less than required to get there.

As an example: If one were going from NYC to BOS, about a 2 hour flight in a small plane, and the weather in BOS is iffy there would have to be enough fuel in the plane available to reach an alternate airport and still have 45 minutes of fuel aboard. If everything along the pilot’s route from NYC to BOS is socked in and there is nothing better within reach of BOS then the pilot might have to go all the way back to where they started, NYC in this case. If they encounter a headwind on the way back they probably won’t have enough fuel to do it. So what to do? CANCEL and rent a car. Been there done that! Read some of my earliest blogs where I recount just such a scenario.

*The minimum descent altitude (MDA) depends on the particular airport, which runway and type procedure. The lowest standard ILS MDA is usually 200 ft. The one caveat about “busting” the MDA is this: if at the MDA and/or decision point as a marker beacon, the high intensity or other lights extending from the runway are visible, the pilot may continue the approach to the runway even though the runway is not yet in sight. That means the pilot may go lower than the published MDA under those conditions.

You Gotta Sleep Sometime

Reading about the problems that fatigue and boredom are causing in the cockpit and radar rooms, made me think back some. Sleep, we must remember is something we can’t do without. At some point it will come, regardless. The problem of course is that if you are alone at the controls, it could be a disaster unless corrected right away.

When I was flying occasional charter up in Vermont, I frequently would get a call late in the evening or even the wee hours to take a flight. It always was some type of emergency, some more vital than others. The powers to be knew that I didn’t drink much and could be counted on to be sober, hence the late calls.

One evening, about 2300 hrs or so, I got a call from the dispatcher. There was a Saab 340,a small airliner, at the Hartford Airport with a bad starter on one engine. They needed me to fly a mechanic and spare parts to fix things ASAP. Off I went down interstate 89 at METO speed and was ready to go in a little over 30 minutes. Oh how I did love to fly those birds.

The mechanic and I took off in one of the Pa-31’s and we were in Hartford (KHFD) in about 40 minutes. It was after midnight when we arrived, and I had been up since 0700 that morning, working at my “real” job as a radiologist. Yes, it was already a long day, and I was starting to yawn a bit. As the mechanic was doing his thing, I stayed in the cockpit and tried, successfully for a few z’s. An hour or so passed and in bounded the mechanic. Repair done and ready to go. I shook myself awake and cranked up the engines. Not much clearance needed, good VFR, and away we went.

I used the autopilot as was customary, fortunately. As the flight progressed, I caught myself nodding off for just a few seconds every few minutes. Somehow I was able not to get into deeper sleep. The passenger was sound asleep in the right seat. What confidence.
Staying awake while at cruise with little to do, monitor or communicate about, was the worst. Once nearing home (KBTV), things were required of me and no time for a snooze.

I feel now, even in retrospect, that if an emergency had occurred I would have been able to respond. The question is, what if something like a near miss that required me to be looking out had happened? Might not have been a good outcome. Well, there is a gamble in so much we do. Most of the time we do get away with it. This can be a dangerous way of thinking however, especially if other lives depend on us.

So, when doing your thing. Whatever it may be, flying, driving or just playing, do get your sleep, or who knows?

Hans Look Up In The Air

The last day of the year seems like a good time for reflection. I think back many years when as a boy of eight or nine, I would hop on my bicycle and head for Laguardia airport (KLGA), some two or three miles away. My intent, to stand at the end of one of the runways, and wait for a landing plane to pass closely over my head. Close enough in fact, that if I could jump up ten feet in the air I would hit one of the planes wheels. DC-3’s. DC-6s and Constellations would scream by. This continued until one day a policeman happened by and pointed to cuts in the bushes at the end of the runway. He explained in a sarcastic manner that those were due to the wheels slamming through when the plane was a bit low. After that I moved off to the side and watched from there, avoiding getting squished by a landing plane. It was only fitting that one day I would end up landing at KLGA myself. There were two of us flying down from the Boston region in an old Cessna 172 headed for Flushing airport, a small field across the bay from Laguardia. Well, when we got there it was IFR and I was only a VFR pilot at the time. Fortunately, LGA approach control was in a good mood and helped us line up on the localizer and we landed safely. Finally back at Laguardia. Was anyone watching us land?

Yes, I was hooked on aviation from the get-go. While going for a walk, regardless whom with, if I heard a plane go by, I would have to look up and see it. I still do. My wife still chides me by saying “what did your father call you when you did that?.” Hans guck inn der luft, German for Hans look up in the air. Hans being generic for any gawker I guess.

Well my love for watching planes continued. As I grew older, I would beg my mother to drive us out to the Grumman factory, farther out on Long Island, to watch the production fighter jets getting test flown. My first flight was on a Pa-18 on floats on Fourth Lake in the Adirondacks. A thrill for a little kid and one I still remember.

It wasn’t till many years later that I finally started flying myself. At the age of twenty something, in the army, I began my flying lessons in a tail wheeler, the L-19 (O-1).
From there on it was a slow progression. Getting the ratings and flying at every opportunity.

After 40+ years of flying, I decided it was time to hang up my wings. I remember my flights and continue my love affair with aviation, albeit by looking up in the air.

Why Fly An Approach Coupled To The Autopilot?

The other day I was having lunch with a pilot friend. We were discussing my recent blog “How To Execute An Actual Instrument Approach”. Apparently he got the idea that this was a coupled approach, one that uses the autopilot (AP) to follow the commands of the ILS signals. In fact, I hadn’t written that this was the case, rather describing a “hand” flown approach, without partial or complete use of the autopilot. Anyway, he questioned its use and so this blog.

As I believe that there are many advantages to making the approach, particularly the ILS, coupled to the autopilot, I will explain how to do it. Before going into the nitty-gritty however let me give my reasoning for doing it.

As you can see from my former article, or if you have done an ILS approach, you realize how busy things can get at certain times, especially in single pilot operations. The autopilot frees one up a bit to allow you to fully be aware of what and where you are in the approach. Meaning that you have some time to look at the all important approach chart without fighting a wing drop or altitude change. The latter assuming you have both heading and altitude coupling capabilities. That said, here is how it would work.
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Basically, before the approach you would have been using the “nav and alt” features of the 2-axis AP. Different models of AP have different presentations. The picture above is just one, albeit quite popular. As the controller turns you to the inbound localizer course you should have your Nav 1 tuned to the ILS frequency. Set the inbound heading on the HSI and engage the Approach button on the AP control head. The AP will guide the plane deftly onto the localizer course while you, the PIC, verify that all is well, The altitude will be held until the glide slope is intercepted, usually at the outer marker (OM). There will be audible and usually visual indication as the altitude hold grabs onto the glide slope. Again, just monitor the approach as you manage the flight taking care to slow, add flaps, check fuel selector, mixture full rich, change the props to high RPM and drop the gear. A lot to do in a short space of time.

Ok, so that’s that. Sure I practiced flying non-autopilot approaches to make sure I stayed sharp, but also used the AP as needed, respecting its limitations (just like those of its pilot).

I just ran across an excellent article discussing all of this as a further reading:
http://stoenworks.com/Tutorials/Flying%20the%20coupled.html.

How To Execute An Actual Instrument Approach

Executing an instrument approach in actual “instrument” weather (ceiling below 1000 ft and visibility less than three miles) is not a game. A simulation done at home or at an FBO (fixed base operator) doesn’t create the same level of anxiety. Why should it? Just turn it off and go about your chores.

In this article I am going to lead you through the thought processes that I deem important to get an airplane and its passengers safely on the ground in really bad weather. OK here we go.

Before arriving at MHT (see my last blog), I tuned in the weather and got the following:
Information foxtrot: Visibility less than ¼ mile in fog and light rain, ceiling indefinite. You can’t land under these conditions unless you have very special equipment and expertise to handle this essentially zero zero weather. The active runway was 35 so I got the instrument approach plate for an ILS to Rwy 35. This plate illustrated everything needed to carry out the approach and landing. It delineates the proper procedure, specifying altitudes and compass headings needed if you were to fly the procedure without being vectored by approach control. All the required radio frequencies for navigation and communication are specified. It is very important to have up to date charts as changes to the above can occur.

So, about 20 miles out from MHT I was handed off to Manchester approach by Boston center. “Navajo 711EB contact Manchester approach on 124.9, good day.” I reply:”roger
Manchester approach 123.9”. Then after changing frequencies:“ Manchester approach Navajo 711EB 6000 with foxtrot”. This lets the controller know my altitude and that I have the latest weather. Approach tells me to descend to 3000 ft. He also advises me to expect a hold until the weather improves. On hearing that, I look at the approach plate and study the hold procedure which is like a racetrack carried out on specific headings with 1 minute legs. The hold area is 8 miles NW of the field, with the starting point, an intersection called Scoop.

I have decided since I have over 4 hours of fuel remaining to try a landing and “Miss” if I have to. Miss is short for a missed approach. A very important thing to clearly have defined in your head before starting any approach, but especially in conditions like this. The controller assigns me a heading of 150 degrees which will place me east of the inbound localizer course for RWY 35. Also I am told to descend to 2000, which is 1766 feet above the runway landing zone (as noted on the chart). Now it’s time to set up my nav receivers for the localizer. After dialing in the proper frequency, I listen for the identifying Morse code signal to make sure I am on the right station. This ILS signal is what can bring us down through the murk. Without it, get the parachute out, or pull the handle if you are in a Cirrus and low on fuel.

About 5 miles beyond the airport I am waiting for the turn in to intercept the localizer. The controller tells me to turn right to a heading of 240 degrees, which will bring me to intercept the localizer. Proceeding further, the course deviation indicator (CDI) is starting to move and I am “cleared for the approach”. Now I have to go through a bit of a check list: Fuel on mains, approach flaps, advance the prop controls to high RPM, mixture controls to full rich, ready for gear down at the Outer Marker (OM). The engines now are set to go to full power in case of the go around. The OM named (DERRY), is normally the start of the approach, and is announced on the instrument panel by a blinking blue light and a specific audio tone heard in my headset. I now descend to 1800 ft and prepare to intercept the all important glide slope, which if followed in concert with the CDI needle (both centered) will place me 200 ft above the runway threshold and on centerline.

Well the OM starts blinking and the audio beeps at me so I watch for the glideslope needle to move. As it comes down, my hand is on the throttles and I prepare to drop the gear, go to full flaps and reduce power to the engines. So now it’s watch, wait and hope for a break in the fog. If at the minimum altitude of 434 ft, I “don’t have the runway” in sight, I will have to execute the missed approach. The point of minimum descent is defined not only by altitude, but also by a DME (distance measuring equipment). As the DME is at the point of minimum descent, if one stays on the glideslope, it is the point of leveling off at 434 ft. There also is a chart of time to the decision point, depending on the ground speed. This is shown on the DME instrument. In our case, at about 100 knots, the time to decide to land or not is 2:31 (Min/Sec). Although I couldn't land on my first approach, after one Miss I manged to get safely on the runway. The details of how I finally landed after a 727 landed ahead of me, were discussed in my former blog.

I hope this has given you insight as to the main things a pilot does and thinks about when landing in bad weather

The main things to glean from this article: plan ahead, follow approved procedures, be current in your flight experience, fly a well maintained airplane and practice, practice and more practice.