Check ride day, so I’m in a a no-nonsense mood.
As the chief pilot of Ure International Airways, a concept admittedly borrowed from the late Ernest K. Gann, author of The High and the Mighty and one of the finest aviation writers of all time (along with Richard Bach of Jonathan Livingston Seagull and One), there are requirements to stay current on flying skills. These have to be dragged out and shown off to a flight instructor or check ride pilot every so often, or you’re grounded.
It was almost 35-years ago I’d met Ernie Gann. He’d just done the television special Masada based on his mini-series story The Antagonists.
After all these years, the home-base of great author/pilots has blurred a bit, no doubt the effect of long-chain sugar molecule relatives and too many after-flying stories. This is called “hangar flying” and the proof runs anywhere from 3.2 to 86, depending on heat and local supplies.
Gann and his wife, as I recall lived somewhere up on or northeast of Whidbey Island, north of Seattle. Richard Bach, and his wife, lived up in the San Juan Islands, but for reasons I never understood, they moved to somewhere down in Oregon. Seems like a fair number of pilot/writers despite sometimes awful weather.
Let me take that back. I do understand.
It all depends on which is more important to a fellow; sailing or flying. If yo8u like flying and sailing or boating, there is nowhere better.
The principles are the same, in either case. You have a wing (which is all a sail is) and you control the angle of attack (with a yoke if by plane or sheets if by sea) and the lift is what makes adventure happen.
This time of the year, and in fact usually starting in late August, the San Juans tend to develop morning fog. Some of the best (and safest) pilots you’ll ever meet fly for Kenmore Air Harbor which makes regular stops at places like Friday Harbor and Roche Harbor.
Gann lived, as I recall, more inland, away from the foggy Straits. I want to say Coupeville, but memory is likely bad on that. Bach’s move to Oregon would make a lot of sense. The Cascade range tends to “scrape the rain out of the clouds” before they head east and that means central and eastern parts of Washington and Oregon have lots of clear days.
This morning, as fate would have it, the weather looks to be clear in the San Juans, Coupeville, WA, and even Seattle looks like good flying. Portland, Oregon, on the other hand is looking at dense fog. Just moving to Oregon doesn’t solve all problems, after all. Next week there will be rain in Eastern Oregon and possibly snow on the backside of the Cascades where it’s cold.
Check rides, like today’s, aren’t especially difficult. Once learned, manipulating the controls of an aircraft is sort of like riding a bike. But it’s the “head work” that takes a little bit of doing. Even with a good memory, the process of staying sharp involves practice, study, and testing.
So yesterday was spent mastering a course in Aeronautical decision-making which involves working out acronyms like PAVE, IMSAFE, and PPP. And just when you get all that done, you remember that you need to brush up on the colored light flashes from a tower which are still used in the event of total radio failure at night.
The education part never stops. I even carry my Washington DC SFRA card. (SIFF-rah) Not that I plan to fly into Washington…it’s sort of like a USCG 6-Pack Captain’s ticket for ther serous boater: Brag point.
The main difference, though is that if you have a captain’s ticket (even a 6-pack, not a 7 oceans sailing master 300 tons) and something goes wrong, the insurance outfits will point at the captain for not avoiding trouble. In aviation, its somewhat the other way around: The more study and recurrent training you can document, the more insurance companies like you. Rates come down because 80% of aviation accidents are people issues, not mechanicals.
And then there’s the fine points of chart-reading. What does the little “H” in a circle in the corner of the VOR information box on a chart mean? (HIWAS service available.) And the Acronyms go on….and on…. until you get to the final CIGARS (controls, instruments, gas, attitude, run-up, safety before take-off) and finally you can get back in the sky.
The FAA has a continuous education programs called WINGS and it’s a fine service. On tap for today, amd, we’ll see how much of the following I get through to bag WINGS basic:
From the Commercial Pilot Practical Test Standards for Airplane
- Area of Operation IV, Task A: Normal and Crosswind Takeoff and Climb
- Area of Operation IV, Task B: Normal and Crosswind Approach and Landing
- Area of Operation IV, Task F: Short-Field Approach and Landing
- Area of Operation IV, Task K: Power-Off 180º Accuracy Approach and Landing
- Area of Operation IV, Task L: Go-Around/Rejected Landing
Successful completion of an Instrument Proficiency Check in accordance with 14 CFR Part 61, section 57(d) [FAR 61.57(d)].
The Instrument Proficiency Check must comply with the requirements set forth in the currently approved Instrument Rating Practical Test Standard, FAA-S-8081-4. The Rating Task Table in that publication lists the minimum tasks required.
From the Private Pilot Practical Test Standards for Airplane
- Area of Operation II, Task A: Preflight Inspection
Area of Operation II, Task D: Taxiing
Area of Operation III, Task A: Radio Communications and ATC Light Signals
Area of Operation III, Task B: Traffic Patterns
Area of Operation III, Task C: Airport, Runway, and Taxiway Signs, Markings, and Lighting
Area of Operation IV, Task E: Short-Field Takeoff and Maximum Performance Climb
As luck would have it, there’s not going to be much of a crosswind this morning, but I might propose that I “slip” the airplane in, instead of using flaps, and then straighten out just before landing. That’s how flying was done in the old days: By dipping one wing (say the right) while applying opposite rudder (left in this case), the airplane flies “sideways.” Since more frontal area is presented, the airplane tends to lose altitude…fast!
When you land in a crosswind, the process is about exactly opposite. You make your approach normally (with flaps if needed) and you’ll be flying a crab angle in order to track over the ground on the runway heading while the wind is trying to blow you off course.
Once you get the feel of the correct crab angle, you simply fly this all the way down to the ground until you are just about to touch down. Holding the nose at the proper attitude (up) you apply enough “slip” so that the airplane “straightens out” and lines straight ahead onto the runway center line. As speed comes down (and the nose wheel drops, you increase aileron down (on the into the wind side, right in this case) and smoothly slow the airplane.
If the wind is from the right (pushing you to the left), you slip with the right wing going down and the left rudder pedal. For wind from the left, (pushing you right) the left wing does down and in goes right rudder.
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