Uh-oh... Looks like an American Airlines Boeing 737 suffered a runway excursion at Kingston, Jamaica today. Early reports indicate there was heavy rain at the airport, so hydroplaning could've been a factor. Looks like there was either a loss of directional control on landing and/or a runway overrun. The great news: No serious injuries have been reported!
More on this later...
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
You Snooze, You Lose
The FAA ordered an emergency revocation of the airline transport pilot certificates of the two pilots of Northwest 188 immediately following the October 21 incident. The pilots stated they were "distracted by their laptop computers." Yeah, right. Maybe they were dreaming about their laptop computers.
Whatever the case in the cockpit of that A320, it's clear the pilots became complacent. They had probably flown that route hundreds of times before. They thought it was a routine operation and that the flight would follow the same progression as previous flights. It did not. The pilots failed to maintain the high degree of vigilance required during air operations and placed hundreds of innocent people at tremendous risk. The fact that no one was hurt can be attributed to dumb luck.
Complacency kills. There's no place where that's more true than an airplane. The pilots of Northwest 188 were experienced, yet they failed in a very basic and fundamental way. All the experience in the world doesn't make a pilot immune to death by airplane. Most pilots have heard the story of the two Civil Air Patrol ATPs that flew a Cessna 182 into a mountainside near Las Vegas in 2007. That's stuff pilots learn how to avoid in the infancy of their pilot careers. Hours in a logbook made no difference that night at Mount Potosi. I'd argue all those hours even worked against these pilots by breeding complacency.
One of the world's best and most competent pilots, Richard L. Collins, has said, "Hours in a logbook aren't important because the most important hour is the next one." The next hour you spend in an airplane is the only one that has the power to kill you, and it will do so without hesitation if you allow it. Sometimes years of logbook pages only amount to blatant disregard and disrespect for the basics of aviation safety. It's as though some pilots think of hours in a logbook as a form of body armor which will protect a pilot from death in a crash. The truth is, a twenty thousand hour pilot is just as vulnerable to the risks of flight as a thousand hour pilot.
That thunderstorm in the windscreen doesn't care how many hours you have written on pages in some logbook. That mountain lurking in the night won't be any more forgiving to an experienced pilot, and an in-flight fire will feel just as hot to an airline pilot as a student pilot.
The risks stay present no matter how long or how far you fly. Risks don't diminish as logbook pages are filled. The dangers of flight don't discriminate between young and old, inexperienced or experienced, routine or nonstandard... We're all vulnerable. No one is exempt or immune from the risks of flight.
Remember the expression, "Stay alert. Stay alive." If you stay vigilant each hour you fly, you'll survive each hour you fly. Relax or become arrogant and the airplane won't tolerate it. The inherent dangers of flight will reach up and snatch you when you least expect it.
One of my favorite things about flying airplanes is the requirement to focus solely on the task at hand. I love how airplanes hold me accountable for that each moment I'm in them, and if I stray the airplane will remind me to re-focus because there's a lot at stake. Remember, all those hours in your past won't protect you from the most important hour, the next one.
Whatever the case in the cockpit of that A320, it's clear the pilots became complacent. They had probably flown that route hundreds of times before. They thought it was a routine operation and that the flight would follow the same progression as previous flights. It did not. The pilots failed to maintain the high degree of vigilance required during air operations and placed hundreds of innocent people at tremendous risk. The fact that no one was hurt can be attributed to dumb luck.
Complacency kills. There's no place where that's more true than an airplane. The pilots of Northwest 188 were experienced, yet they failed in a very basic and fundamental way. All the experience in the world doesn't make a pilot immune to death by airplane. Most pilots have heard the story of the two Civil Air Patrol ATPs that flew a Cessna 182 into a mountainside near Las Vegas in 2007. That's stuff pilots learn how to avoid in the infancy of their pilot careers. Hours in a logbook made no difference that night at Mount Potosi. I'd argue all those hours even worked against these pilots by breeding complacency.
One of the world's best and most competent pilots, Richard L. Collins, has said, "Hours in a logbook aren't important because the most important hour is the next one." The next hour you spend in an airplane is the only one that has the power to kill you, and it will do so without hesitation if you allow it. Sometimes years of logbook pages only amount to blatant disregard and disrespect for the basics of aviation safety. It's as though some pilots think of hours in a logbook as a form of body armor which will protect a pilot from death in a crash. The truth is, a twenty thousand hour pilot is just as vulnerable to the risks of flight as a thousand hour pilot.
That thunderstorm in the windscreen doesn't care how many hours you have written on pages in some logbook. That mountain lurking in the night won't be any more forgiving to an experienced pilot, and an in-flight fire will feel just as hot to an airline pilot as a student pilot.
The risks stay present no matter how long or how far you fly. Risks don't diminish as logbook pages are filled. The dangers of flight don't discriminate between young and old, inexperienced or experienced, routine or nonstandard... We're all vulnerable. No one is exempt or immune from the risks of flight.
Remember the expression, "Stay alert. Stay alive." If you stay vigilant each hour you fly, you'll survive each hour you fly. Relax or become arrogant and the airplane won't tolerate it. The inherent dangers of flight will reach up and snatch you when you least expect it.
One of my favorite things about flying airplanes is the requirement to focus solely on the task at hand. I love how airplanes hold me accountable for that each moment I'm in them, and if I stray the airplane will remind me to re-focus because there's a lot at stake. Remember, all those hours in your past won't protect you from the most important hour, the next one.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Right-of-Way, The Right Way!
"Niner Four Charlie, traffic 12 o'clock, one mile, climbing through 2,100, opposite direction, a Cessna." That's the kind of traffic advisory that gets your attention. I was approaching the downwind at forty-five degrees for landing at my home base and was level at pattern altitude, 2,100 feet. I spotted the Cessna, less than a mile away and converging head-on with me. My brain unlocked the right-of-way rules folder which had been stored away for quite some time and was accumulating some dust. "Head-on, give way to the right," I recalled. I rolled into thirty degrees of right bank. The pilot of the Cessna evidently did not have right-of-way rules stored in his brain, or at least not correctly, because as I rolled right, he rolled left. From my seat, his airplane looked like a heat-seeking missile chasing after me! A quick roll back to the left and away from the Cessna remedied the situation, and I landed uneventfully.
This happened to me quite a few years ago, and since then I've never again encountered a head-on convergence situation. Few pilots do, and that's why right-of-way rules fall out of our brains after many years of disuse. But you'll need to know where to turn, possibly on short notice, in the event you do come near another aircraft. Don't make a mistake like the pilot of the Cessna did and interfere with evasive maneuver attempts by the other aircraft. Let's review a few of the key right-of-way rules:
This happened to me quite a few years ago, and since then I've never again encountered a head-on convergence situation. Few pilots do, and that's why right-of-way rules fall out of our brains after many years of disuse. But you'll need to know where to turn, possibly on short notice, in the event you do come near another aircraft. Don't make a mistake like the pilot of the Cessna did and interfere with evasive maneuver attempts by the other aircraft. Let's review a few of the key right-of-way rules:
- Remember, when converging with another aircraft head-on, always give way to the RIGHT.
- When converging with an aircraft of the same category other than head-on, the aircraft on the RIGHT has right-of-way (just like at an intersection in a car).
- When approaching an uncontrolled airport for the purpose of landing, the lowest aircraft within similar range of the field has right-of-way (and don't cheat by ducking lower just to cut in line!).
- When converging with an aircraft of a different category, the LEAST maneuverable aircraft has right-of-way (for instance, an airplane must give way to a hot air balloon or glider).
- An aircraft in distress ALWAYS has right-of-way over ALL other aircraft.
Remember also that tower controllers do not separate aircraft in the air; only aircraft on the runways and taxiways (airport movement areas) are positively separated. DO NOT rely on the tower to keep you separated from other traffic. They'll provide traffic advisories if they can, but you're responsible for seeing and avoiding threats all the way down to the runway.
Keep right-of-way rules accessible in your brain so they'll be there if you need them. Next time you need to give another aircraft right-of-way, do it the right way.
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