-
Confessions of a New Corporate Pilot
by
[sc name=”post_comments” ][/sc]
In the Citation III Confessions of a New Corporate Pilot
Life would be sweet, I thought, now that I’d successfully passed my Cessna Citation III (CE-650) type rating check ride (this was a few years back). It meant I’d be flying my first swept-wing jet. Surprisingly, my first day at the new job at Chicago Executive Airport (PWK) would also be the first time I’d been up close to a real Citation III since all the training and even my check ride happened in FlightSafety’s full-motion simulator.
From my research, though, I knew the 650’s cabin was roomy enough for eight, and its rocket-like performance was nothing short of spectacular with a VMO (maximum operating Mach) of Mach 0.85 and 39,000 feet on a standard day. In its day, M.83 was pretty fast. That meant we could make the West Coast out of PWK with four people in the back. I learned quickly, too, that the 650’s awesome performance meant I needed to stay much farther ahead of the airplane than I’d had to in the much slower Citation II (CE-550) I’d been flying in a 12-pilot charter department.
A privately held corporation owned this Citation III and I was the junior of three pilots. The chief pilot, my new boss, brought experience from several other flight departments, while the other pilot, I’ll call him Tom well, I was never really too sure where Tom had come from because the guy kept to himself as much as possible and wasn’t the chatty type. That made three-hour flights long when the entire conversation at FL390 ended with an occasional shrug of the shoulders.
But who cared what one guy acted like, I thought. I was there to learn how to fit into a flight department that needed another pilot on their team. Just like in charter flying, my job was to keep the people in the back happy. I came to know these passengers much better than we ever did in the charter world. These folks sometimes invited the flight crew to their home on Nantucket when we overnighted there.
The Interview
Looking back on this job now though, I guess the 10-minute interview the chief pilot and I engaged in before he offered me the job should have been a tip-off that maybe something was a little odd. But with a four-year-old daughter growing up at home, the chance to dump my charter department pager that always seemed to ring at 2 a.m. beckoned hypnotically.
Cessna Citation CE-650 Corporate line training began right away with me flying in all kinds of weather, where I regularly rotated flying left seat with the chief pilot and Tom. Having flown left seat on the Citation II, I wasn’t brand new to jets, just speedy ones.
After a few months, however, I began to notice a few operational oddities that started making me a little uncomfortable. Some sketchy flight planning and questions I asked were sometimes answered with annoyed expressions. If I appeared not to agree, someone might ask if I’d finished all the Jepp revisions (In those days there were no electronic subscriptions. Updates were handled by hand). I found the best solution for getting along seemed to be to just shut up and fly the airplane. Ignoring those distractions did help me pay closer attention to the little things that made my flying the jet smoother.
Then again … On one flight back from Cincinnati (CVG), I was flying left-seat with the chief pilot in the right. I wanted to add fuel before we left since the Chicago weather was questionable, but the boss overruled me explaining, “We’re fat on fuel.”I didn’t say anything. As we approached PWK, the ATIS reported the weather had worsened, considerably. The Swiss cheese holes began to align when Chicago Approach dumped us early. We ended up burning more fuel than planned. I flew the ILS right down to minimums, but my scan uncomfortably included the fuel gauges every few seconds. After a safe landing, we taxied in with 700 pounds of Jet-A, not much for an airplane that burns 1,800 pounds an hour down low. What if we’d missed at Chicago Executive Airport and needed to run for Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport I wondered? We’d have arrived on fumes. The boss looked at me after we shut down. “Don’t tell me that whole thing bothered you. It all turned out fine, didn’t it?” (more…)
-
Remembering Gordon Baxter: Bax Seat was a Flying Magazine Reader Favorite
by
[sc name=”post_comments” ][/sc]
(Reposted by request)
Each time I stand near my desk, my eyes naturally focus on the framed cover of the August 1983 Flying magazine. Below it is page 100, the “I Learned About Flying from That” (ILAFFT), where my first column appeared. On it, the author of Bax Seat, scrawled in brown ink, “To my friend Rob Mark. His story, my push. Gordon Baxter, August 5, 1983.”
Many months before, Gordon Baxter had given me the Flying editor’s phone number. When I rang with my brief pitch, all I heard was “yes.” I suddenly had an assignment for my first column. That 1983 issue was the first, but not the last, time my name and stories appeared in the aviation industry’s iconic magazine. That same issue also ran a pilot report about the then-new Cessna Citation III, an aircraft I later added to my list of type ratings. Looking back, there were so many aspects of my aviation career that came to life around Bax and that August 1983 issue, not the least of which was that we became friends.
Gordon Baxter, Bax as he preferred folks call him, helped shape my career as an aviation journalist like no one before him and only a few people since. The author of 13 books, Bax’s own magazine writing career at Flying spanned 25 years. His monthly column, Bax Seat, focused on vivid descriptions of his adventures. It was known simply as “Bax Seat.” Did I mention he was also a long-time radio personality in Beaumont, Texas, another interest we shared.
A Bit of Bax’s Background
I first met Bax in the mid-1970s. He brought his show, his act, or whatever the heck he called his evening of storytelling, to the Stick and Rudder Flying Club at Waukegan Airport. I was a tower controller not far away at Palwaukee Airport. Having been an avid Flying reader since high school, I switched shifts with another controller so I wouldn’t miss the event. Bax captured the audience for over an hour with stories from his flying career and his columns that often alternately “em rollin’ in the aisles” with gut-wrenching laughter and an emotional Texas-guy style that also brought tears to many an eye. Another way to think of Bax’s storytelling night was like an evening of improv but all about flying and airplanes.
Born in Port Arthur, Texas, he learned to fly after World War II following his stint as a B-17 turret gunner. Bax was no professional pilot—just a guy with a private certificate, an instrument rating, and eventually his beloved Mooney. On the back cover of one of his books, appropriately titled Bax Seat, Flying’s Stephan Wilkinson said “Bax tries to pass himself off as a pilot, but don’t believe him. He never could fly worth a damn. But Gordon feels airplanes, loves and honors them in ways that the rest of us are ashamed to admit. And he’s certainly one of the few romantics who can express what he feels so perfectly.” I couldn’t have written that myself, but I, too, felt it.
(more…) -
Making the Brazilian ATR-72 Spin
by
[sc name=”post_comments” ][/sc]
Note: This story was corrected on August 10th at 10:23 am, thanks to the help of a sharp-eyed reader.
Making an ATR-72 Spin
I wasn’t in Brazil on Friday afternoon, but I saw the post on Twitter or X (or whatever you call it) showing a Brazil ATR-72, Voepass Airlines flight 2283, rotating in a spin as it plunged to the ground near Sao Paulo from its 17,000-foot cruising altitude. All 61 people aboard perished in the ensuing crash and fire. A timeline from FlightRadar 24 indicates that the fall only lasted about a minute, so the aircraft was clearly out of control. Industry research shows Loss of Control in Flight (LOCI) continues to be responsible for more fatalities worldwide than any other kind of aircraft accident.
The big question is why the crew lost control of this airplane. The ADS-B data from FlightRadar 24 does offer a couple of possible clues. The ATR’s speed declined during the descent rather than increased, which means the aircraft’s wing was probably stalled. The ATR’s airfoil had exceeded its critical angle of attack and lacked sufficient lift to remain airborne. Add to this the rotation observed, and the only answer is a spin.
Can a Large Airplane Spin?
The simple answer is yes. If you induce rotation to almost any aircraft while the wing is stalled, it can spin, even an aircraft as large as the ATR-72. By the way, the largest of the ATR models, the 600, weighs nearly 51,000 pounds.
Of course, investigators will ask why the ATR’s wing was stalled. It could have been related to a failed engine or ice on the wings or tailplane. (more…)
-
How the FAA Let Remote Tower Technology Slip Right Through Its Fingers
by
[sc name=”post_comments” ][/sc]
In June 2023, the FAA published a 167-page document outlining the agency’s desire to replace dozens of 40-year-old airport control towers with new environmentally friendly brick-and-mortar structures. These towers are, of course, where hundreds of air traffic controllers ply their trade … ensuring the aircraft within their local airspace are safely separated from each other during landing and takeoff.
The FAA’s report was part of President Biden’s Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act enacted on November 15, 2021. That bill set aside a whopping $25 billion spread across five years to cover the cost of replacing those aging towers. The agency said it considered a number of alternatives about how to spend that $5 billion each year, rather than on brick and mortar buildings.
One alternative addressed only briefly before rejecting it was a relatively new concept called a Remote Tower, originally created by Saab in Europe in partnership with the Virginia-based VSATSLab Inc. The European technology giant has been successfully running Remote Towers in place of the traditional buildings in Europe for almost 10 years. One of Saab’s more well-known Remote Tower sites is at London City Airport. London also plans to create a virtual backup ATC facility at London Heathrow, the busiest airport in Europe.
A remote tower and its associated technology replace the traditional 60-70 foot glass domed control tower building you might see at your local airport, but it doesn’t eliminate any human air traffic controllers or their roles in keeping aircraft separated.
Max Trescott photo Inside a Remote Tower Operation
In place of a normal control tower building, the airport erects a small steel tower or even an 8-inch diameter pole perhaps 20-40 feet high, similar to a radio or cell phone tower. Dozens of high-definition cameras are attached to the new Remote Tower’s structure, each aimed at an arrival or departure path, as well as various ramps around the airport.
Using HD cameras, controllers can zoom in on any given point within the camera’s range, say an aircraft on final approach. The only way to accomplish that in a control tower today is if the controller picks up a pair of binoculars. The HD cameras also offer infrared capabilities to allow for better-than-human visuals, especially during bad weather or at night.
The next step in constructing a remote tower is locating the control room where the video feeds will terminate. Instead of the round glass room perched atop a standard control tower, imagine a semi-circular room located at ground level. Inside that room, the walls are lined with 14, 55-inch high-definition video screens hung next to each other with the wider portion of the screen running top to bottom.
After connecting the video feeds, the compression technology manages to consolidate 360 degrees of viewing area into a 220-degree spread across the video screens. That creates essentially the same view of the entire airport that a controller would normally see out the windows of the tower cab without the need to move their head more than 220 degrees. Another Remote Tower benefit is that each aircraft within visual range can be tagged with that aircraft’s tail number, just as it might if the controller were looking at a radar screen. (more…)
-
Seething About the Buffalo Crash
by
[sc name=”post_comments” ][/sc]
I don’t know what makes me more angry, the story in the Wall Street Journal that claims investigators are pointing the finger of blame at the pilots of the Dash 8 Q400 in the Buffalo crash a few weeks ago, or that from a pilot-training perspective we seem to be reliving a reality that should be all too familiar after the ice-related 1994 ATR crash in Roselawn Indiana, as well as the Brasilia crash near Detroit in 1997.
The issue of pilot qualifications and training are sure to make headlines again soon, as well, after Buffalo – not to mention pilot hiring standards, crew duty times and an overall focus on the bottom line. The historic conflicts between NTSB recommendations and actions taken by the still leader-less FAA are certain to get in the way as well.While the NTSB’s job is gathering all the facts to determine a probable cause, I – as a flight instructor – see issues related to wing contamination that should be well-known to other aviators, like letting the autopilot fly the aircraft in icing conditions. I’m not waiting for every single detail to emerge before I remind students and fellow pilots that ice of any part of the airplane is nothing to screw around with. It seems senseless that any pilot is forced to reread the basics of aerodynamics on lift generation, but as long as people keep breaking airplanes in ice, we seem to have little choice. The myriad of NTSB accident reports related to ice are a great place to begin reinforcing the deadliness of complacency around contamination of wings and tail plane.
-
EMS Helicopter Safety: First, Do No Harm
by
[sc name=”post_comments” ][/sc]
A confirmed rotorhead, I recently invested some unexpected free time looking into the NTSB’s public hearing on Safety of Helicopter Emergency Medical Services (HEMS) Operations. I didn’t have the time to watch four days of video available, so I settled for the executive summary in the NTSB’s Special Investigation Report on Emergency Medical Services Operations, which includes four safety recommendations.
Now at the top of its Most Wanted List of Transportation Safety Improvements, what attracted the NTSB’s attention were the 41 HEMS crashes, 16 of them with fatal consequences, between January 2002 and January 2005. The report said HEMS flight time grew from 162,000 hours in 1991 to an estimated 300,000 hours in 2005. And so did the accident rate, from 3.53 accidents per 100K to 4.56. Last year was the worst on record. Four of the 35 fatalities perished when an independent medevac helo hit a guy wire on a 734-foot radio tower near Aurora, Illinois, one VFR night last October. The patient was 13 months old. The company suffered its first fatal accident in 2003, and this one put it out of business. The NTSB report never said it directly, but I inferred that the medevac pilots were seen as cowboys, riding to the rescue on rotary wings no matter what. Or maybe I’m oversensitive and took the NTSB’s four recommendations the wrong way. What do you think? 1. Conduct all medical flights in accordance with Part 135 regulations. 2. Develop and implement flight risk evaluation programs. 3. Require formalized dispatch and flight following procedures that include current weather. 4. Require terrain awareness and warning systems (TAWS) on all EMS helicopters.
To get some perspective, I called the local air medicine program, ThedaStar, which is just up the road at Theda Clark Medical Center in Menasha. There I met Flight Nurse Pam Hillen, who’s been flying ThedaStar since it first took wing in 1986, and Ron Ries, a high-time pilot who launched his helo career with the Army and still flies Blackhawks for the Guard. Making it clear that they could only speak for how ThedaStar operates, Hillen said the patient’s condition is not a factor in the go/no-go decision. Why? The first rule of medicine, she said, is “First, do no harm.” Last year ThedaStar flew 498 patient missions, and didn’t launch on another 300, mostly because of weather. -
A Boston Tea Party for TSA
by
[sc name=”post_comments” ][/sc]
The heart and soul of social media – blogging, Twitter, podcasting and a host of other new tools – is its ability to create a buzz around an issue – often within within seconds – much the way we saw with Janis Krum’s TwitPic post of a US Airways Airbus hitting the icy waters of the Hudson River last month, proving again that the ways we communicate with each other about anything and everything are evolving in front of our very eyes. It is time for aviation professionals to raise their fists against a piece of impending legislation in the pattern of our forefathers 250 years ago.
Sending a Signal
On December 16, 1773, American colonists stopped shouting and took action to protest an act of their then overseers, the British Parliament. Outraged at what they considered an unfair taxation policy on tea, citizens dressed as American Indians, climbed aboard freighters docked in Boston harbor and dumped thousands of tons of tea into the water to send a signal to London that the little people were not happy about government treatment of this necessary part of Colonial life.
Aviators … it’s our turn again.
