| CONTRAILS How Practice with Flight Simulation by Are Barstad |
|||
|---|---|---|---|
|
Editor's Note: Developer Are Barstad is well known to flight simulation enthusiasts for the many aircraft and panels he's contributed to the Fly! community. You'll enjoy visiting Are's Fly! Hangar!
But in this feature Are tells of his personal experience in what started as a pleasure flight with a pilot friend, but turned out to be a harrowing experience when they found themselves in IFR conditions—for which they had no experience, let alone the necessary certification. Nevertheless, Are relied on knowledge gained in desk-top flying with PC-based flight simulators to get back to earth alive, a feat that was possible only because Are's airmanship—despite many mistakes—avoided fatal disorientation so common to attempted flights in IMC conditions. And he offers some very good advice for General Aviation pilots based on this experience.
I am about 60% finished building an experimental aircraft (Van's RV-8) and will equip it for IFR and have a very good reason why I should. Keep in mind that an aircraft is only safer when IFR equipped if you are IFR trained. In fact, you would be safer being IFR trained without an IFR equipped aircraft than being in an IFR aircraft without IFR training. Most IMC related accident happens in aircraft that are equipped sufficient for IFR flight. I didn't have 'official' IFR training when the following took place but there is no doubt in my mind that the Flight Simulator saved my friend's and my own life. On with the story…
14 years ago a friend in his late 50's (also colleague at that time) and myself flew a ~1 hr. flight from Parry Sound where I lived at that time to Collingwood. We went to Collingwood to work on a Mitsubishi MU-2. I was to perform an A/D (Airworthiness Directive) by adding an autopilot disconnect switch on the yoke while my friend (painter and AME) was to paint Canadian registration letters on the fuselage. We flew in my friend's very old Cessna 170B. It was not equipped for IFR flight—all we had for NAV was an ADF. We did however have a gyro attitude indicator (which I would never be without!).
I was 24 years old at the time. I had started flight training 1 1/2 years earlier but the small flight school with a fleet of 2 172's went bankrupt so I hadn't been flying at all for 1 1/2 years. I soloed after 6 hours and had 2 or 3 hours after that—a total of 9 hours at the most and not even close to get a license. I was however a flight sim freak and played with them since they first came out on the Atari's and Apples (same simulator as is now Microsoft Flight Simulator). I would almost always set clouds to 100 ft above the deck and visibility to <1 mile and enjoy immensely breaking out of clouds with the centerline right in front of me. I can't tell for sure but wouldn't be surprised if I had at least 1000 hrs doing this over a period of ~7 years.
On the way to Collingwood that day I thought the engine sounded a bit rough. This was strange since I had never in my life been in this aircraft. My friend had just bought it a few weeks earlier. I mentioned this to my friend whose primary job was as an AME where I worked and he told me that he thought it sounded just fine.
We finished the work for the day and headed for the 170 for our flight home. He visually inspected his fuel tanks and decided we'd better top the tanks. Good move!!! Maybe the only good move... He then called FSS to file a flight plan and asked for weather since it looked a bit gloomy but they said the worst we could expect was some rain about half way there. We had no idea what was waiting ahead...
We took off and headed north towards Parry Sound (CNK4 – see map below). The engine sounded a bit rough still but I decided not to say anything in fear of insulting the experienced pilot in the left seat. About half way we saw a front that looked like heavy rain and bad visibility. I suggested to my friend (a pilot with over 35 years of VFR experience in several types) that we turn around. He did however think we could just go around it to the south and then get north once east of the front. I had just moved from Norway to Canada a year earlier but have later learned that weather almost always moves from west to east so this was bad move #1.
We got around the worst of it and started heading north. The ceiling was getting lower and lower all around us but he kept flying north. It was bound to happen... the ceiling and ground was about to meet. My friend pulled up, into the clouds. I just remembered reading how an experienced VFR pilot would last for an average of 176 seconds before the propeller would be firmly screwed into the ground.
As soon as we entered the clouds I focused on the attitude indicator as I was used to do with Flight Simulator. My friend was staring out the windshield. Oh no! He's banking to the right... what am I going to do?!? I had my hand on top of my right knee and pushed gently up on the yoke to level saying at the same time "Frank, you're banking to the right!" He responded "Oh!" and started banking to the right again – this time sharp. I pushed again. Now it was hard since I had to overpower his hands. I said, "Frank, you're banking again." He responded by letting go of the yoke and told me "it seems like you have a better feel for this than me." His face was white, as were his knuckles. I grabbed the yoke with both my hands and watched as my knuckles turned white too. I focused on the VSI, altimeter and attitude indicator, just as I do in the flight simulator. Note: I did not even have the required 5 hours of instrument training we get in Canada to teach us to do a 180 out of bad weather. In fact, I had never in my life been in a cockpit in clouds...
Here I was, in the right seat in a very old plane with no instrumentation (except the ADF which I soon realized didn't work!), 9 hours under my belt in a period of 3 weeks, 1 1/2 years earlier and absolutely no instrument training other than playing with Microsoft Flight Simulator. On top of that, the pilot was now sitting with his arms straight down, a white face and leaning forward staring out the windshield... and we were in clouds! Ouch!
As I was climbing thinking I could get out on top, the airspeed started to get real low. I should have done a 180 but was worried about this as well since we were now at a higher altitude (I know, stupid move!). I kept going north at this time. I initially climbed at ~100kts then lowered the nose as the speed dropped to 90, then to 85. I kept dropping the nose but airspeed kept dropping, now at 75. I had a brief look out the window and could barely make out the wheels – wheels with a solid layer of ice on the rubber – yikes!!!. The airspeed kept dropping while I tried to keep the wings level – now at 4500ft (elevation was about 800ft). I MUST AVOID THE DEADLY SPIRAL IN CLOUDS! The airspeed was now down to 50kts and then 40 and I kept pushing the nose down to gain speed. At this point I could hear the engine over-revving—just like a hurt plane in a WWII movie. I screamed out from the bottom of my lungs "We're going to stall!, we're going to stall!" Frank didn't say a word – he was now completely paralyzed – still staring out the windshield. What was he looking for???
In the panic I never noticed that we were diving – big time! I then noticed that the airspeed indicated 40,30,20,0 ???? What the hell? Ahhh, the pitot tube is frozen! I instinctively pulled the throttle all way back and pulled the yoke back. (Ok guys, I did many wrong things but this is hard when you can't see anything!). At this point I was waiting for the ground to come up through the windshield but somehow I managed to level out without folding the wings but had no airspeed indicator so I had to fly by noise. Speaking of noise, another loud noise started. Hail, that was all I needed, hail! Oh no... what's with the loud bangs? I could hear some very loud banging, just like a shotgun firing?!? Frank finally spoke up "It's ice hitting the tail feathers..." then he was silent again. I guess as I got back down to warmer air, the ice let go. Well, that was a relief although I learned later than another 500ft would have got us on top. I finally felt I had some control over the aircraft but it was now – very – turbulent... I told Frank that I had flown in clouds many times before and that he could relax. My lie obviously didn't work; he still appeared to be paralyzed...
"Frank! Lean back, I can't see the instruments!!!" I had to yell this several times as I started practicing gentle turns and focusing on relaxing my grip around the yoke. In this old plane we didn't use headsets but rather had one of those old hand microphones for radio use. We literally had to yell back and forth. I pointed the nose southwest hoping we could get out of this but the hail and now snow just got more and more intense. I descended slowly over a long period of time and could see an opening through the dark clouds and then water below. This was a huge risk but I carefully stuck the nose out and noticed that I had descended through the clouds over a small bay surrounded by hills and trees, which were both higher than me. I had no choice "Frank, I'm sorry but I have to go IFR again" I said as I pulled back into the soup. I can't remember what I was thinking but do remember asking Frank (as a joke) "Is this what they call marginal VFR?" He never laughed – just kept leaning forward, staring out the windshield.
I flew the plane at 2300rpm and at a fairly steady altitude so I guess the speed was ok. I started feeling more relaxed and looked at the time. We had been airborne for almost 2 hours (where had the time gone???) and luckily we had full tanks that I knew would last us at least 4 hours. 4 hours to where? What is next? I grabbed the microphone and tuned the radio to the nearest Flight Service Station, which was Toronto. Frank came to life again "What are you doing? Who are you calling?" I responded, "I'm calling for help, Mayday I think." He said "no, that will get us into trouble." I honestly didn't care and called Mayday anyway. Frank ignored me and went back to his 'trance'. Toronto responded immediately and asked me to switch to 121.5. I briefly told them what was going on, what type (or lack of) instrumentation we had and that I could really need a smoke as soon as we landed (I since quit smoking many years ago & life is too precious!). Well, I didn't say I needed a smoke but was thinking about it... Toronto asked for my approximate location and told me that they thought they could see me on radar (we had no transponder either): "Stay calm, climb to 3500 and turn to 180 degrees" (or close to this). There are towers in the area that are very high so this was the MOA. They further told me that weather was bad in Toronto as well but that we had to deal with a landing when we get there. As I slowly climbed towards 3500, I kept a close eye on the tires for ice build-up. At 2500 it started accumulating again. I had to ignore Toronto and descent back to 2000 and hope we'd miss the towers. There was that shotgun noise again as ice hit the tail feathers. As this wasn't enough the VSI started to jump around on me, then the altimeter stopped working and seemed to be jumpy... Ice must have clogged up the static port. I had never been taught that I could smash a gauge to get static air so I now flew without airspeed, altimeter and VSI. I have no idea why the pilot didn't think of this but he was in another world. I advised Toronto and they asked if I had an alternate static source. I told them "no" as this is what I thought. The pitot heater was turned on but was obviously not serviceable or I had turned it on too late. Why didn't Toronto ask me to break the glass in the VSI gauge??? This would have given me back airspeed and altitude.
The attitude indicator, turn & bank and RPM gauge were now my only useful instruments. I thought if the RPM was fairly constant we couldn't dive or climb too fast. I then thought of the ice and slowly climbed until I could see ice build-up then leveled off and thought the smashing ice would warn me about too low altitudes. Man, this was nerve wrecking! For some reason I was fairly collected and was thinking clearly—I just had very limited knowledge of basic flying, never mind IFR in IMC conditions with lack of important instruments. It may have helped that I was an avionics tech. at the time and had good knowledge of instruments which is all I had to go on – very few of them...
Suddenly, just like a miracle, we came out of the soup—right over Barrie, a city with a small airpark. I had just been thinking how the heck Toronto could talk me to a safe landing based on a 2 dimensional radar and we could see stars!!!. I advised Toronto that I could now see Barrie airport and that the airfield was in sight after successfully turning on the ARCAL system.
Then, the engine... that rough sound I heard earlier in the day now sounded even rougher. I had added carb heat every 5 minutes or less (this I had learned) so I didn't think that was a problem and I checked mixture right away. Full throttle was now 1600 rpm but I couldn't maintain altitude. I couldn't make the field either. I all of a sudden noticed how dark it was. Pitch black... I could see all the lights below but no other contours. I knew about the large lake (Lake Simcoe) and thought our best chance at night was to touch down at or close to a beach. This would also minimize chances of hurting people on the ground. I headed for the big area without lights (water) and started descending in circles with almost full throttle.
Then another miracle, the engine came back to life—I now had over 2000 rpm. Instinctively I added full throttle and climbed towards the airport to have enough altitude to get there even if the engine quit. As we approached the airport I told Frank that he should take over and land since I probably couldn't land it… He said "what???" and took over. He landed safely and I stepped out and had the best cigarette in my life... When I turned around in the soup and went south I was only a few miles from the destination. I called my wife to come and pick us up. She told me that she couldn't because the highways were closed due to a heavy snowstorm with squalls. The highways were closed in the exact area I was flying in. The airport manager (also an Avenger pilot) took us up to his house while the roads cleared up. 2:00am in the morning my wife picked us up. My friend burst out crying almost hysterically in the car on the way home and told my wife that I saved not only my own life but also his. He told me later that he had 'given up' and just resigned himself to the fact that we were going to die. I think he had a much harder time with this than me.
He told me a week later that I had a 'good ear for engines'. I said oh? And he told me that when he went back down to pick up the airplane, he couldn't get it to start. Upon closer examination he found that BOTH magnetos were unserviceable and needed to be replaced.
I learned a lot from this trip. As soon as my RV-8 is flying I will take the IFR training. I have considered it now but won't be able to upkeep it with rentals. I will only fly aircraft with attitude indicators and a heated pitot/static tube. I recently bought one from Gretz Aero for my own RV-8. It may not be needed but it is a phobia I developed. I can easily sacrifice that pound for safety... When people ask, "Why a heated pitot/static tube, I answer, "I have my reasons..."
Be careful out there! I have seen many planes with just a turn and bank indicator. At the very least make sure you have an attitude indicator and maybe ask a CFI at your local flying club if he can give you 5-10 hours of dual instrument flying. A well-equipped RV is no good if you will be staring out the windshield. If I had asked my friend before this flight what he would do in sudden IMC he would no doubt have thought that with his 35 years experience he would just look at the instruments. There is a reason 176 seconds is time to live in these situations! It turns out (much like a real power off landing) that things are completely different when they actually happen.
I made a map of the route to my best recollection. Please note the airport where I show us finally landing is not the actual airport but only a few miles south. The actual airport is not displayed on this map. The actual flight was much more back and forth, side to side etc, than you can see. Actual flight time in clouds was estimated to almost 1.5 hrs. The black line shows intended route and the red shows actual flight. You can see us attempting to go around the bad weather by going further east then back north towards our destination. We then got IFR, I took over and started flying south after climbing for a while, diving and getting control again.
The red circle is at the point were I broke out and circled and decided to get back in the clouds. The route towards the water shows where I was going to land around the shores of Lake Simcoe.
|
|||
|
