Graveyard Spiral

The graveyard spiral, or "spiral dive," has claimed the lives of many pilots. In my years as a flight instructor, I've come to find that graveyard spirals are not well understood by many pilots. That's part of the reason graveyard spirals continue to kill people. I believe education is the answer to managing risks in flying, so I'd like to provide some information about spiral dives and how to respond to them and, more importantly, how to prevent them in the first place.

First of all, what is a graveyard spiral? Graveyard spirals usually occur in instrument conditions when the pilot becomes spatially disoriented. The pilot's spatial disorientation could be the result of turbulence, instrument failure(s), lack of instrument training, or simply cockpit distraction. Whatever the case, the pilot loses control of bank attitude and one wing begins to drop. As the bank steepens, the nose falls through the horizon and the aircraft begins descending. The airspeed increases and the bank angle and rate of descent continue to increase. The pilot senses a descent and pulls back on the yoke or stick in an attempt to arrest the descent, but this only steepens the spiral. The load factor increases dramatically and the descent rate becomes incredibly steep. Often in fully developed graveyard spirals the aircraft suffers an in-flight breakup before it reaches the ground. Other times the aircraft strikes the ground in a nose-low attitude at extremely high speed. Accident sites of graveyard spirals are usually breathtaking... Thousands of aircraft fragments (and other things) scattered around as though a bomb went off.

Recovery from a fully developed spiral dive is sometimes impossible. Once the airspeed exceeds a certain value, structural failure will occur during any type of recovery attempt. For this reason it's very important that we never allow a spiral dive to fully develop. The answer to preventing the formation of a spiral dive is to avoid situations where we might become spatially disoriented. Never fly in instrument conditions unless you're instrument proficient, not just instrument current. Minimize cockpit distractions and always remember keeping the airplane under control is your top priority. Never conduct other cockpit tasks during turns because there is a higher risk of losing control of bank during a turn. Use an autopilot, and always maintain a proactive instrument cross-check to detect instrument failures. Luckily, instrument failures are much lesson common now with glass panel systems and laser gyros. We don't have to rely on undependable vacuum pumps anymore for attitude information.

If a spiral dive starts, rely on your unusual attitude recovery training. Reduce power to idle, level the wings FIRST (that's very important because leveling the wings reduces load factor exponentially), and slowly recover from the resulting dive. The most important component of attitude during flight is bank. If you control bank, there's very little pitch can do to hurt you. If the wings are level, positively stable airplanes will fix pitch on their own and the nose will eventually return to a safe attitude after oscillation cycles. Some new airplanes are being built with a "wing leveler" feature for this reason. If the pilot feels like he's losing control of the airplane, he hits a button and the autopilot levels the wings. If the wings are level, a spiral dive can't develop. Remember, spiral dives are the result of runaway bank. Maintain control of bank, and you won't find yourself in one of these terrible situations.

AAL 2

Have you heard about this? On May 4, American Airlines Flight 2, a Boeing 767-200, declared an emergency on approach to JFK after ATC denied their request for landing Runway 31R. Here's part of the ATC audio.

JFK's Runway 31L was closed for repairs, so I believe Runway 31R was being used for departures and Runway 22L (and Right?) was being used for arrivals. When American 2 Heavy checks on with Tower, the controller issues a landing clearance and wind check of 320 at 23, gusting 35. That's a heck of a lot of crosswind (and even some tailwind component!). The crew declares an emergency, makes a turn, and lands Runway 31R. This was an unusual event, and it's difficult to determine whether the crew acted appropriately without knowing the full details of what happened.

I'd like to hear the ATC audio from New York Approach between the controller and this flight crew. The conflict started there, and I'll bet the crew requested landing 31R multiple times and the controller didn't oblige. New York Approach controllers can be stubborn. After hearing the wind check from Tower, the crew, fed up by the Approach controller's lack of assistance, decided their only option was to use their emergency authority and land their aircraft where they deemed fit. I'm assuming there was a minimum fuel situation, and if there was, I wonder if it was communicated to ATC. If there wasn't a minimum fuel situation, why didn't the crew divert to another airport with a suitable runway for landing? Not enough fuel, probably.

After the crew declares an emergency, the Tower issues them a go-around vector which they do not comply with. This seems out of line unless the fuel state was dire. Listening to the Tower audio, it sounds like the controller understood the flight's situation and was attempting to initiate vectors for an approach to 31R. I think the crew was fed with ATC at that point and their brains had switched into "I'm not listening to anything you have to say anymore" mode. That's understandable, and I don't necessarily disagree with the crew's decision to override the controller's instructions but I'm not sure that was totally necessary when the controller was already trying to send them to 31R. Again, maybe fuel state was a factor. Maybe the crew felt they couldn't take more vectoring.

So, was this a justified "emergency?" That depends on the fuel remaining. If the flight was at minimum fuel, yes, this was an emergency. They needed to land now at this airport, and the only way they could do that safely was to land on a runway better aligned with the wind than the runway ATC allegedly insisted on giving them. If the flight had fuel to divert, no, this was not an emergency. The FAA will decide.

Crosswind Limitations

Ideally, wind would always be perfectly aligned with runways. When runways are constructed, a consideration of the average wind direction for the area dictates the runway orientation. Los Angeles International, for instance, has east/west runways because of its proximity to the ocean and prevailing east/west winds. Dallas Fort Worth International, on the other hand, has mostly north/south runways because the wind in the area usually blows north/south. The problem is, fronts and other meteorological factors disrupt wind flow sometimes, and uncharacteristic crosswinds make pilots tighten their grip on the controls a bit.

The FAA requires airplanes to be satisfactorily controllable with no exceptional degree of pilot skill or alertness in 90° crosswinds up to a velocity equal to 0.2 Vso. For example, Vso, or the stalling speed in the landing configuration, for the Piper Archer I fly is 47 knots. That means the airplane can be landed by the average Joe pilot who isn't particularly skilled or alert in a direct 9.4 knot crosswind. A non-average Joe test pilot, on the other hand, who is highly skilled and alert, picks a windy day and lands the airplane with as much crosswind as he can handle and that number becomes the maximum demonstrated crosswind component for the airplane. Any airplane certificated after May 3, 1962 must have this number placarded in the cockpit where the pilot can see and be reminded that a test pilot could handle that amount of crosswind, but he probably can't. The maximum demonstrated crosswind component is NOT a limitation, and it can be exceeded. You can legally land with as much crosswind as you want. But if a test pilot could only handle say, seventeen knots, it's reasonable to consider that a limitation, or at least a very strong recommendation not to take on more than that (or even close to it).

When the wind is blowing across the runway and not along it and you're not certain you can land safely in the existing conditions, divert to an airport with a crosswind runway better aligned with the wind. Better yet, avoid that situation in the first place by giving a thorough check of the weather and forecasts before your flight. Wind isn't generally all that difficult to forecast, so if it looks like there's a possibility of encountering too much crosswind, delay the flight until the wind dies down or come back another day.

Looking for Students

Hello, readers. I'd like to take a moment to extend an offer to anyone seeking flight instruction to contact me. I'm taking on new students and would be glad to hear from you. I offer a full range of instructional services from Private through Airline Transport Pilot, including instrument, flight reviews and instrument proficiency checks. Please email me at ee.stuart@gmail.com to discuss your training needs or schedule a lesson. I look forward to hearing from you! --Gene

Salute to Captain Burkill

"It changed my life." That's what Captain Peter Burkill of British Airways Flight 38 said about the crash of his Boeing 777 in London on January 17, 2008. At four hundred feet on final approach into London Heathrow both of the 777's engines failed without warning or explanation. Listen to Captain Burkill's recount of the crash here. Due to Captain Burkill's proper management of the emergency, there were no fatalities.

Captain Burkill and his family suffered through a difficult year following the accident. Nasty rumors began to spread about Burkill's ineptitude as a captain, and how he "froze" on the flightdeck during the emergency. In fact, British Airways cabin crew trainers were propagating the insulting gossip and talking badly about Captain Burkill during recurrent training sessions. Not long after the accident, Burkill was shocked while cruising over the Atlantic when a couple of his flight attendants informed him of what was being said about him during their annual safety equipment training session. Negative media perceptions were formed of the captain, too.

What a shame. Captain Burkill did everything right, in my opinion. The entire emergency lasted less than one minute before impact. During that short time Burkill remained calm and did everything within his power to to manage the situation. He quickly troubleshot and tried to identify what may've caused a sudden loss of thrust on both engines simultaneously. When it was apparent power could not be restored and there was not enough time to continue further with that effort, Burkill made a smart split-second decision to shed drag by reducing flaps by five degrees. This action alone may have been the difference between life and death for passengers and people on the ground. Burkill was aware that reducing the flaps by five degrees would increase the glide range while not dangerously increasing stall speed. And within seconds before impact he made a mayday call to the tower so that firefighting and rescue equipment could be dispatched immediately.

Burkill may have been criticized for not taking aircraft control from his first officer, who was the pilot flying for the landing. Actually, I think that was one of the best decisions he made that day. Burkill knew his first officer was highly experienced in the 777, almost as experienced as he was. And Burkill knew that time was so limited before impact that he needed to have full, undistracted access to his captain's knowledge and wisdom. I think his decision to let his very capable first officer continue flying was a fine display of crew resource management (CRM). Had he taken the controls so low with so little time, Burkill may not have thought to partially raise the flaps and the accident could've ended in tragedy.

In my opinion, Captain Burkill's handling of that unprecedented and very challenging emergency was a fine display of airmanship. The man deserves respect and recognition for a job well done. Many people could've died that day, but everyone survived. It disappoints me how disrespectfully Captain Burkill was treated after the accident. I personally would like to extend to him my respect and congratulations for his work that day. Well done, Captain Burkill.

Directing Attention

I keyed the mic, "Direct DUSTT, hold as published, maintain 3,000, EFC 0315, Nine Four Charlie." The world outside was dark and dimensionless. Pitch black, actually. It was a low IFR night and I was single pilot. The engine noise had just transformed from a relaxed purr to a roar as I executed a missed approach. During instrument training, pilots learn to expect a sensation of tumbling backward during a throttle up in IMC. I felt that sensation that night and responded as I was trained -- disregard the sensation and hunker down on the instruments. Even our own bodies lie to us sometimes. It's important not to allow that unusual sensation to cause hesitation during application of climb power. I was climbing, turning toward the missed approach fix, configuring things for the hold, cleaning up the airplane (retracting flaps and completing the after takeoff checklist), and I had no autopilot. I was task saturated. Suddenly, I stopped.

I've trained myself to do this whenever I feel the current workload is becoming overwhelming. I stop what I'm doing, put my non-flying hand on my leg, and just fly. I transition back to the flight instruments and reallocate my attention to attitude-instrument flying. "Am I sending the airplane to where it needs to go? To a safe place?" Anything else can wait. The most important thing is to keep the airplane in a safe attitude and positively under control. I have programmed a mental alarm of sorts that monitors how much of my attention is on flying the airplane. When that figure dips below the 75% range, the alarm trips, and I respond by suspending all tasks that don't directly involve flying the airplane. That night, I climbed to the assigned altitude, established on-course to the missed approach fix, and resumed other cockpit tasks only after I was straight-and-level. If the airplane departs from controlled flight, all those other tasks don't matter anyway.

During single pilot IFR operations, this type of thought discipline is especially important. Too many airplanes are lost to loss of control accidents in instrument conditions. Remember, if you don't fly the airplane, no one is. During high workload or task saturated situations, remember that the only thing that matters is to first stash the airplane in a safe place in the sky, nicely under control. There are some situations in instrument flying where there is simply too much for a single pilot to think about all at once. That's where workload management tactics, or task prioritization, comes in. We all know how many accident reports cite a loss of situational awareness as a cause or contributing factor. The most important aspect of your situation is always the attitude of the airplane and its position in space, particularly in relationship to terrain and obstructions. Although there are many other important situational elements to maintain awareness of, they are all secondary to this. The airplane must remain under control for any of those other tasks to even stay possible. Pilots have been lost when their attention was diverted from basic airplane control because they were fixated on another task or problem.

I recently completed an instrument currency session in a flight training device. The flight was approach intensive, as most instrument currency flights are. There were lots of rapid re-configurations, frequency changes, OBS resets, GPS tasks, and checklist duties. I was a busy pilot. I noticed my mental "stop and redirect" procedure was being used frequently due to the high workload. I'd be programming the GPS for the next approach and would suddenly and very deliberately move my hand away from the dial mid-rotation and put it on my leg. It almost always feels unnatural to do this. Often the GPS would be left with a flashing highlight on a selection screen. No matter, it can wait. It won't go anywhere. I needed to focus on flying and keeping the airplane heading in a safe direction.

This is my own personal workload management tactic that I've found to be very useful. It's effective at breaking a fixated thought pattern. If I feel that the GPS or finding a number on a chart is consuming too much of my precious attention--of which there is only so much of to go around--or that I'm becoming fixated, I break that thought pattern by forcing my hand to leg. It's a way of not letting my mind address anything at that moment other than flying the airplane. This procedure reminds me of Cesar Millan's, The Dog Whisperer, technique of touching a dog in a specific place on the body and making a "Sh!" sound when the dog is acting out. He's breaking the fixated thought process and redirecting the brain's attention.

I had a sharp flight student who I would occasionally challenge with task saturation. I wanted to see how he'd respond when the environment was asking too much of him all at once. I'd be barking commands at him and playing ATC as he was running checklists and flying. When the workload became too great, he'd begin to shed lower priority tasks and focus on flying. I was so proud when he'd ignore me and hunker down on the instruments. After he was sure he had the airplane under control, he'd begin responding to me. He reacted perfectly.

Pilot-in-command authority is more than just a term in the regulations. It's a mindset. It's an attitude. We have to be able to take charge of the situation, to be the "alpha dog" up there. When we are bombarded by too much input, we have to take charge by confidently selecting which tasks to focus on and which to address at a later time, and we must do this authoritatively. When we feel our minds losing situational awareness, we must recognize this and react by immediately eliminating distractions to flying the airplane. Get back to the rest when it's safe to do so.

We talk about resource management in flying. To me, resource management extends to the most valuable resource on the airplane, the pilot's brain. That brain has limited capacity. Too many demands can start to pull attention away from flying the airplane, and most of the brain's resources should be continuously attached to that effort. If attention starts peeling away from aircraft control, it should activate a mental alarm and that attention should be restored and re-attached to flying immediately. Be aware of where your attention is directed. Keep enough attention in the right places, that's what situational awareness is all about. If things start slipping, stop and just fly.

Brief Yourself

You might be thinking, "He's talking about briefings again?" Yes, I am. Briefings in GA are widely underused and under-rated! I've previously written about approach briefings, which are arguably the most important of all briefings. But, there are others that deserve mention, too. Several different briefings are used routinely in airline operations, and we need to beef up our "briefings culture," for lack of a better term, in GA. Today, let's discuss departure briefings.

Remember, it's important to conduct briefings even in single-crew (single pilot) operations. In multi-crew environments, briefings benefit the briefer just as much as the brief-ee. It's been proven that information that is verbalized tends to stick better in our brains, which is why it's critical to brief aloud, even if you're the only one listening. In a moment, I'll give an example of a self-briefing I conducted for a departure out of Arcata, California on a low IFR morning. First, let's go over some departure briefing basics.

A departure briefing should be performed before every departure, no matter how simple or routine it may seem. VFR, IFR, good weather, bad weather, familiar/unfamiliar airport, no matter the case, conduct a briefing. Pilots screw up even simple departures sometimes, and they pay the ultimate price. The more organized your mind is, the more sharp your flying becomes. A departure briefing should be performed just prior to engine start and should cover these items:

Current position on airport and anticipated taxi route

Determine your current position using the airport diagram and brief the taxi route you anticipate (consider highlighting during your preflight planning). Discuss any taxiway closures.

Departure runway information

Determine which runway will be used for takeoff, available runway distance for takeoff, runway lighting, etc.

Runway conditions

Is the runway dry, wet, icy, contaminated? Abnormal runway conditions may increase takeoff roll distance.

Takeoff procedure and special considerations

Discuss what type of takeoff is required: normal, short/soft-field, crosswind. Discuss aircraft configuration requirements (flap settings, etc.).

DP walkthrough/departure transition and automation mode (if applicable)

If a departure procedure will be flown, brief it the same way you would an instrument approach procedure. If a DP will not be flown, discuss the plan for a custom departure transition. That could be as simple as "left turn on course, up to 5,000." Whatever your plan is for transitioning from the runway into the enroute structure, brief it. If autopilot will be used, discuss when and what modes.

Terrain/obstructions

Any terrain or obstructions of interest should be noted. Keep it simple, otherwise you'll forget anyway. Something like "high terrain to the east" works. The idea is to know which way NOT to turn in the event of an engine failure or other emergency.

Emergency considerations

Discuss the plan for an emergency return to the airport if one becomes necessary. I don't recommend departing from an airport where the weather is too low to permit an emergency return, but if there's a good alternate nearby, discuss the route there and the approach to be used.

Here's an example of a departure briefing I conducted for a flight in a Piper Archer out of Arcata Airport in California:

"We're currently at the GA ramp here. We'll plan to join Alpha via Delta from the ramp and taxi southbound on Alpha to Runway 32. Looks like there is a run-up pad at the approach end of Runway 32, so we'll conduct a run-up there. We'll use Runway 32 for takeoff. We've got six thousand feet of takeoff distance available. We do have edge and centerline lighting for this runway. The runway is wet but we have plenty of available distance for the roll. We'll do a normal takeoff, little bit of a left-to-right crosswind. We're cleared for the HOCUT THREE departure, Crescent City transition. I have the HOCUT THREE departure, Arcata, California, Alpha Charlie Victor. This chart is current eleven March 2008 to eight April 2008. For departure Runway 32, it'll be a climbing left turn to join the 250 outbound Arcata to position HOCUT, then a right turn to join Victor 27 northbound to TRIAL, then Crescent City. We'll climb unrestricted to 9,000. I'll hand fly until established outbound on the 250, then engage NAV GPS roll steering and Vertical speed modes. We'll use GPS as primary for navigation with VHF data as backup. I have Arcata set and positively identified on NAV2 with 250 set on the OBS with Crescent City in the standby. Once we turn northbound to join Victor 27, it will be the Crescent City 161 and 341 on the OBS. We'll be out over the ocean almost immediately with high terrain to the east. If we have to return we'll proceed directly to KNEES for the ILS 32 and continue climb to 5,900. Departure briefing complete."

I've always enjoyed briefings and found them to be very helpful. They help instill a clear mental picture of the game plan and help things go smoothly as planned. There's a lot to keep straight up there, so verbalizing a clear and concise plan will help keep you on the straight and narrow. Blog post complete!

Sterile Cockpit Enforcement

After the recent string of air carrier accidents and incidents involving violations of sterile cockpit rules, the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) is recommending the FAA use cockpit voice recorders (CVRs) to check up on pilots on a regular basis. Before, CVRs were only used in accident or incident investigations. Now, though, the FAA will use these devices to review routine flights to ensure pilots are maintaining a sterile cockpit. The Air Line Pilots Association (ALPA) and many line pilots are upset about this, claiming the new use of CVRs is an "invasion of privacy." One ALPA spokesperson also commented that he believes this will cause a distraction in the cockpit because pilots will be afraid to speak up about safety issues. Those are ridiculous arguments.

Get over it, you big babies! You shouldn't be participating in non-pertinent discussion during sterile periods anyway. If you just follow the rules, you won't have a problem. It's simple. ALPA's outcry reminds me of habitual drunk drivers protesting field sobriety checkpoints. If you're doing something wrong, you'll be upset when someone calls you on it. If you're doing what you're supposed to be doing, you won't notice any difference! The only pilots that have a problem with this idea are the violators.

Maintaining a sterile cockpit is crucial to flight safety. And because many pilots can't get that through their heads, the FAA is stepping in. God bless them. Pilots have repeatedly demonstrated that they're incapable of following sterile cockpit rules consistently, and that's why Big Brother is stepping up oversight. That's fair, and it makes perfect sense. For airline pilots, all you need to do is follow the rules. That's what you should've been doing in the first place because your passengers place trust in you to be people of integrity. If you don't agree with sterile cockpit rules, get over it. A rule is a rule, and all rules can be traced back to safety, so following them is not a matter of debate.

ALPA's non-sensical and downright silly arguments will likely continue, like a rowdy child being sent to time-out. It's embarrassing, really. I read an airline pilot's blog, and he wrote of a recent flight where he texted his dispatcher via ACARS to inquire about the score of a football game. He was angered when his dispatcher replied that management had decided sports scores are a distraction to flight operations. He commented that his anger became a distraction during the descent and approach and had the audacity to blame this on the company. The problem wasn't with the company, it was with his childish attitude and tantrum. Check the score after you land, act like an adult, and focus on flying.

The FAA monitoring CVRs on a routine basis is anything but an invasion of privacy. Do airline pilots think the flight deck of an airliner is their own personal living room? Pilots aren't entitled to privacy on the flight deck. It's the company's jet being used to haul hundreds of passengers in a complex and very public environment. Who says pilots have a right to privacy in that domain? And what would they even need privacy for? They shouldn't be discussing non-pertinent information anyway. I can't think of any reason that a pilot wouldn't want the FAA to hear him saying things like "Flaps 15," or running a checklist. So, what's the problem? Big Brother still wants to hear you saying those things. Just leave out the conversation about dinner plans. That's reasonable, right? Considering how many lives are at stake?

Ideally, pilots wouldn't require oversight by the FAA because they'd always follow the rules, but they don't. So, the FAA has to implement less-than-ideal solutions (like this one) to get things back on track, or at least closer to the track. It's a good, fair solution to a pilot-created problem. Stop whining, follow the rules, and the FAA will leave us all alone.

Call to Arms

Two are injured, one is missing after a Piper Cherokee was flown at high speed into an office building in Austin, Texas this morning. The individual who flew the airplane into the building, which contained an IRS office, is not believed to have been a certificated pilot. News reports indicate the man set fire to his house then stole the Cherokee from Georgetown Airport, north of Austin. The crash is believed to have been intentional.

We're only a few hours into this thing, and the media is already taking shots at light aircraft security. Frankly, they're right. Obviously, whatever security system was in place at the Georgetown Airport completely failed this morning. This aircraft theft happened in broad daylight at a decently busy airport. I'd bet the perpetrator had little to no difficulty stealing the Cherokee. My guess is that he walked onto the ramp unquestioned, untied the airplane, opened the unlocked door, fired up and took off. Security? What security? There's nothing secure about that at all.

Any security system that relies solely, or even mostly, on trust and faith alone is not truly a security system at all. Most general aviation airports are participants of the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association's (AOPA) Airport Watch program which was created after 9/11. The program, while well-intended, does little to increase GA security because it relies primarily on pilots and airport staff to watch for and report suspicious activity. Many aircraft owners and FBOs who rent aircraft leave their aircraft unlocked and unsecured on the ramp, often unattended for long periods of time. And with push-button start systems now much more prevalent in piston airplanes, thieves don't even need a key to start the engine. At my home base, our FBO was good about keeping rental airplanes locked and secured with a prop lock for a short time after 9/11, but we soon reverted to old familiar (and less secure) ways.

The media has attacked GA security before, and the government has threatened to implement increased security requirements for light airplanes. AOPA's rebuttal has been to explain that light aircraft, even when fully loaded, simply can't do that much damage to people or objects on the ground. I think that argument is no longer valid after today's attack on the office building in Austin. The Cherokee involved was not even fully loaded, and it caused extensive structural damage, a couple of injuries to occupants of the building, and possibly even a fatality. That's certainly not 9/11-scale devastation, but it's also not a pinprick. The bottom line is, even a lightly loaded Piper Cherokee can cause sufficiently significant damage to warrant increased security at GA airports. I hate that it's true because that translates to more inconvenience to pilots, but I hate it even more when innocent people on the ground die as a result of aircraft crashes.

I could go on and complain about the nut job who did this horrible deed this morning, and I certainly have some nasty things to say about him. But, I don't think that would be productive for me or my readers. We all know there plenty of nut jobs out there in the world, and sometimes they do stupid things that impact good people. That's just a fact of life, so instead of getting mad, let's make this a call to arms. Let's make our airplanes inaccessible to the nut jobs. Let's take security matters into our own hands before the FAA and TSA forces it on us through increased regulation. We need to start taking aircraft security seriously because innocent people's lives are at stake.

Keep your airplane locked. Further secure it with a propeller lock. Don't leave keys in your airplane! These are a few extremely basic things we can do routinely to enhance GA security. Abiding by these guidelines is hardly an inconvenience.

Like all pilots, I'm concerned about new security regulations being born in the aftermath of today's crash. It's always a pain when we are subject to increased scrutiny by the government because some clown did a bad deed. But, I also believe firmly in putting the safety of innocent people on the ground before anything else, and because our current security system (or lack thereof) made possible today's incident, maybe it's only fair we admit some improvement is necessary in our security department. If it will prevent something like this from happening again, I'm willing to work a little bit harder to insure the safety of innocent bystanders. I hope you are, too.

CRJ Runway Excursion

It's interesting that I just wrote a post about pilot discipline. Maybe you've heard about the US Airways Express CRJ-200 that suffered a runway excursion following a rejected takeoff at Yeager Airport in Charleston, WV. Preliminary investigation data indicates the accident was likely caused by, you guessed it, crew error and lack of discipline.

Luckily, there were no injuries. The CRJ overran runway 23 at Charleston and was effectively arrested by the EMAS pad at the departure end of the runway. EMAS (Engineered Material Arresting System) pads are constructed of crushable concrete blocks that are designed to collapse under the weight of an aircraft and absorb kinetic energy in the event of a runway overrun. Chalk up another victory here for EMAS because it performed its function perfectly.

I'll be interested to read the cockpit voice recorder (CVR) transcript from the accident, but it sounds like the crew violated sterile cockpit rules (big surprise, right?) during taxi, became distracted by non-pertinent conversation, and improperly configured flaps for takeoff. I'm not sure if they didn't extend flaps at all, but I'd bet that was the case. The crew began the takeoff roll and rejected the takeoff after a takeoff configuration warning activated, then overran the runway into the EMAS. I read one news report that said the crew began to rotate the airplane before the reject was initiated, but that sounds fishy to me. Either way, it seems the aircraft had entered the high speed regime of the takeoff, and I'm wondering how the takeoff progressed to such an advanced stage before the crew abandoned it. I also read a news report that suggested the crew attempted to extend flaps during the takeoff roll, but news reports are quite often flagrantly incorrect. If that did happen, though, it definitely suggests that these pilots should never fly passengers again.

As is typical, this accident likely resulted from a chain of mistakes that led to an unsuccessful outcome. The crew violated sterile cockpit procedures during taxi, failed to configure the aircraft for takeoff, then likely mis-handled the attempted takeoff and subsequent reject. Professionalism at its finest! Not. Thank God there were no injuries, but this accident certainly doesn't contribute much to the case for regional airline safety or professionalism.

Sterile cockpit procedures are used to prevent accidents just like this one. Violate these procedures, and you see what can happen. For pilots of all aircraft, cease chatter, focus on the task at hand, and save the conversation for dinner (or at least cruise!).

The Right Stuff

"What makes a good aviator?" This is a question we've all heard and pondered. Each of us has our own idea about what makes a good pilot. The term "airmanship" has taken on lots of different meanings. Pilots can't seem to agree on a common definition, and many have differing ideas about the profile of a superior pilot. We each have our own experiences, our own values, that lead us to conclusions about what it takes to be the best up there, and we're all entitled. After ten years of flying, I've finally figured out my definition of superior airmanship. I'd like to share my thoughts on that here.

If I had to pick one trait to describe what makes a good pilot, it would be discipline. It's taken me ten years to finally land on this, and I'm completely convinced. For me, the elusive search for that one magical trait has ended. It's all about discipline. Everything we do in airplanes comes back to discipline. History's most successful airmen have all embodied this characteristic -- Charles Lindbergh, Captain Al Haynes, Captain "Sully," even Orville and Wilbur Wright. Flying safely and efficiently requires great precision and strict adherence to operating procedure. Deviating from these principles is usually the result of undisciplined behavior, and history demonstrates some of aviation's most tragic accidents have been caused by this. Almost all major air carrier accidents have been mostly or entirely attributed to human error. The world's most unsuccessful pilots have been those of weak discipline on the flight deck -- the crews of the aircraft involved in the collision at Tenerife, the recent crash of Colgan Air 3407, the crash of an L10-11 after a windshear encounter at Dallas, and even the recent Northwest A320 overflight at Minneapolis. All of these accidents could be attributed to a lack of flight crew discipline.

Human error is aviation's last major area of concern in the risk management battle. After only about a hundred years in the air, that's pretty darn amazing. Humans have successfully eliminated (or at least come close) all major areas of risk in aircraft operations except human error. That's why human factors research is such a big deal right now. It's the only remaining area where we're losing the fight. The ingredient of discipline in pilot action is the savior. The phrase "straighten up and fly right" is valid here. That's exactly what we need to do. We must hold ourselves accountable for the mistakes and failures we make as human pilots and devise methods for correcting those mistakes. When an airplane malfunctions during flight testing, it must be fixed before it's certified to fly. The same standard needs to apply to humans. After all, an airplane is only as safe as the human flying it. Even in the age of aircraft automation, pilots can still override computers and crash airplanes (i.e. the crash of Colgan Air 3407). No matter how smart airplanes continue to be built, pilots of lesser intelligence or discipline will continue to send them to bad places in the sky, places where airplanes shouldn't be. I've written about this before (see post: Drawing Lines in the Sky).

Advancements in avionics technology are wonderful, and they're doing much to reduce accident rates. A flight computer is supremely disciplined. Set a minimum altitude, and it will never descend below it. Not even one foot. Set that same altitude in a human brain, and the outcome won't be so certain. That's the result of lack of discipline. I've written about the imperative requirement to never descend below instrument approach minimums unless the runway is in sight because many aircraft have crashed this way. Again, those accidents were caused by undisciplined behavior.

All pilot action, whether it be in a cockpit, during a preflight inspection, or in a flight planning room, is a test of discipline. I've realized that's why I love flying so much. It evolves me, challenges me, makes me a better person. The more care and precision you put into your flying, the more it will reward you. Discipline is involved during all phases of flight, including pre- and post-flight tasks. Is your flight planning sloppy and hurried? Slow down, force your mind to relax, and get it done correctly and precisely. Safety starts on the ground. Are you breezing through the preflight inspection? Stop. Go back and start over, and do it right this time. Instrument flying calls for the highest degree of discipline. Not only in the form of strict adherence to headings, altitudes, power settings, and course guidance, but also in the decision making department. Let's say you're in cruise and you calculate your fuel remaining on landing to be fifty-seven minutes and your personal fuel reserve minimum is one hour. That should be a simple decision... Divert and re-fuel, then continue on to the destination. Your fuel reserve minimum is one hour, not fifty-seven minutes, right? Keep it simple, and keep it highly disciplined. Take as much discretion out of your aeronautical decisions as you can. That's how the airlines do it, by following policies and standard operating procedures. It works very well for them.

Apply this same level of discipline to every aspect of your operation. Pilots should never use the phrases "close enough," or "that's about right." How about your airspeed on final? You know your landing reference speed is eighty knots, so if the needle is sitting on eighty-one, you'd better be correcting. Your landing reference speed is eighty knots, not eighty-one, right? That's simple. I'll quote Richard Collins again here, "The needle has to be somewhere, so why not have it be in exactly the right place?"

There are endless examples of how discipline interacts with our flying. The best pilots I've ever flown with have been highly disciplined people. They've also had an outstanding ability to keep things very simple in the cockpit, and in a way I think that's a byproduct of discipline. It's disciplined thinking. It's as though pilots could always come back to one question during any part of a flight operation to keep them on the straight and narrow: "Here's the result I need. Here's the result I currently have. Do they match?" If they don't, make them. And think precisely. The example I gave of adherence to landing reference speed demonstrates this. Eighty-one knots is not the same as eighty knots. Remember, don't let your mind fall into the "close enough" mode. That results in sloppy thinking, and sloppy thinking yields sloppy (and often dangerous) flying. Challenge yourself to stay sharp, stay precise, and maintain discipline. You'll be speaking the aircraft's language and it will appreciate your partnership.

There are many important traits and characteristics of superior airmanship, but after ten years of questing to be the best pilot I can be, I've come to the conclusion that discipline trumps them all. "The right stuff" used to be about stick and rudder skills, and now it's become about pilot character. That stick and rudder stuff is just a small fraction of what makes a good pilot. More importantly, it's about becoming a professional from within. Flying transforms our lives in amazing ways, and in turn, we transform flying. The more we improve ourselves as pilots, the better the system works.

Sing to Me, Turbofan

To me, the most beautiful sound in the world is the spool-up of a turbofan engine. It gives me chills every time. Years ago at my home base airport, our flight academy building was located across from our mother FBO. We shared ramp space with transient parking, and if I happened to be walking across the ramp when a jet began its start sequence, I'd always stop and listen. There's just no other sound like it. I'd wait for the "click, click, click..." and then hear the whine start to sing as the turbine began spinning faster and faster. Major cool. I'd always grin, and I still do.

A jet takeoff would bring business to a standstill for a few seconds inside the flight academy building as everyone inside peered out the window and listened to the engines roar. Nothing inspires me more than watching and listening as a jet rockets down the runway and leaps into the sky.

For the turbine-challenged (or unexposed), which many piston pilots are, here are the basics of turbofan operation. Surprisingly, jet engine operation is much more simple than piston engine operation. A turbofan engine consists of three major parts: the compressor section, the ignition/combustion section, and the turbine section. Air is sucked into the engine by a series of compressor fans at the front of the engine. The speed of the first and largest compressor fan is expressed as a value of N1 in the cockpit. After intake air is compressed it enters the ignition/combustion section. Here the compressed air is mixed with fuel and ignited. The expanding gas then accelerates over the turbine causing it to spin very quickly (turbine speed is expressed as a value of N2 in the cockpit). The burned fuel/air exhaust gas then travels out the back of the engine through the exhaust nozzle. The spinning turbine, in turn, spins the compressor fans and the process becomes self-sustained. Bleed air from an auxiliary power unit is often used to set the engine into this self-perpetuating motion on startup.

The hot exhaust gas stream out the back of the engine results in high pressure behind the engine. Because the pressure in front of the engine is much lower than behind it, the engine (and airplane it is attached to) are sucked forward. This works similarly to how an airfoil produces lift. Airplanes fly by altering pressure around them, and they are quite literally being sucked upward and onward. Many older jets express engine power in terms of engine pressure ratio (EPR). EPR (pronounced "e-per," if you want jet pilots to think you're cool) compares the pressure at the back of the engine to the pressure at the front of the engine. The larger the difference, the greater the power.

Modern turbofan engines are high bypass engines, meaning most of the intake air bypasses the engine core and is simply accelerated and directed out the back of the engine. High bypass engines are quieter and more efficient. If you've ever seen an old military fighter takeoff and noticed black exhaust streaks behind it, it was probably a low bypass turbojet engine. Those black streaks are basically unburned fuel.

A byproduct of jet engines is bleed air. Bleed air is compressed air that is "bled" from the engine during some stage of the compression process. It is directed away from the engine and is used for ice control and environmental control purposes. Because the bleed air is hot, it can be circulated through engine nacelles and leading edges of the wings to heat them up for anti-ice functionality. The remaining compressed air is usually directed into the cabin for pressurization and heating or cooling. In some jets, engine bleeds must be left off during takeoff so all available intake air can be used for the production of thrust. Flight crews refer to this as a "bleeds off takeoff," and it's normally performed on shorter runways and/or at high density altitudes and high weights. Just like a good hunter doesn't waste any animal, a jet engine doesn't waste any of its capability to produce power and useful bleed air.

Another cool thing about turbofan engines is that their thrust production is non-linear. On takeoff, for example, as the airplane accelerates down the runway, more and more air is being rammed into the engine because of the increase in speed. This is called "ram recovery." Because the engine is moving through the air faster, more air is being gulped in for compression and the engine produces more thrust. This means the rate at which the airplane accelerates down the runway increases during the takeoff run. It is, indeed, a spirited affair.

Jet engines, they're a thing of beauty. Extremely reliable, efficient, and incredibly sexy. And they sing so beautifully, like a serenade to my ears.

(Citation CJ1 engine start) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L8TboIEJyg8

Shallow and Coordinated

The FAA is concerned about low altitude stall/spin accidents these days. As well they should be. Quite a few of these accidents have happened in the past, so they've become a focus area. They're rather scary, too. Being low and [usually] slow, banking steeply, stalling and spinning in with no room for recovery is a grim scene. Luckily, there are things that can be done to protect you from becoming a stall/spin statistic.

Low altitude stall/spin accident usually happen in the traffic pattern, often during the turn from base to final. A tailwind on base is usually a contributing factor because it sets the stage for an overshoot of final, which invokes potential for a steepening bank at low altitude and airspeed. To make matters worse, the steep bank is often cross-controlled because the pilot subconsciously tries to cheat by turning the nose of the airplane back toward the runway using rudder. The steep bank plus the added adverse yaw most likely calls for opposite aileron deflection. The steep bank and increased load factor causes stall speed to increase exponentially and rapidly, the wing stalls in an uncoordinated turn, and presto, a spin is born. The base-to-final turn is usually executed below five hundred feet, so there's no room to recover and an almost certainly fatal crash results. It happens fast.

This does not have to happen to you. All that's required is a little vigilance in the pattern, and bank and airspeed discipline. Limit banks made in the traffic pattern to no more than thirty degrees. This will guarantee stall speed won't spike suddenly when you have little airspeed in the bank. Banking steeply causes a sudden withdrawal to your angle of attack margin savings account as the margin between current angle of attack and critical (stalling) angle of attack is cut exponentially. And during a phase of flight where airspeed isn't on your side you can't afford to make large withdrawals like that without changing something first. Banking can be thought of as a form of withdrawal from your angle of attack margin when airspeed remains constant, so limiting banking at low airspeed and altitude ensures you won't suffer an overdraw when you least desire it. Make a policy that banks in the pattern can never be steeper than thirty degrees. If greater bank is required because of an overshoot of final, the only option would be a go-around and an earlier turn to final on the next approach. There is never a reason to roll steeper than thirty degrees when a go-around is available.

In addition to the low altitude thirty degree bank limit, focus on making coordinated turns in the pattern. Your turns should always be coordinated, but this is even more important when low to the ground and slow. An airplane simply can not spin unless it is uncoordinated, so even if a stall occurs, if it's coordinated it will almost certainly be recoverable. Stall recoveries usually don't require more than one hundred feet, but spin recoveries can require thousands. Keep your turns coordinated and you'll never have to worry about spinning. Cross-check your inclinometer ("ball") and make sure it stays centered throughout the turn. When the airplane is coordinated, it's very unlikely for the wings to stall unevenly, so that protects you from entering a spin.

Of course, proper airspeed control is also important. Getting low and slow while banking is not a low risk form of flying. Keep the proper amount of airspeed in the bank to stay healthily away from a stall. But, remember, stalling is ALL about angle of attack. A gust of wind can change the wing's angle of attack, so in gusty conditions it's wise to carry extra airspeed (proportional to the velocity of the gusts). Bank angle increases load factor, and increased load factor causes stall speed to depart from the numbers in the POH and the arcs on the airspeed indicator and rise quickly. That's why banking should only be done conservatively in low altitude/low airspeed situations (i.e. the traffic pattern).

Don't forget to anticipate tailwinds on base, too. A tailwind on base calls for an earlier-than-normal turn to final. Anticipating this will reduce your likelihood of feeling tempted to over-bank to re-align with the runway. If you do overshoot, though, that's one of the worst places to bank steeply and a go-around should be given serious consideration.

Keeping your turns shallow and coordinated in the traffic pattern will offer your reliable protection from low altitude stall/spin accidents. It's a simple way of setting safety boundaries during low altitude/low airspeed operations.

New York SFRA

In the aftermath of the August 8, 2009 mid-air collision killing nine over the Hudson River, the FAA has implemented a new Special Flight Rules Area (SFRA) for the New York City terminal airspace. Having just completed the recommended training on the new SFRA, I thought I'd offer a summary of the new rules.

Essentially, the new SFRA works to group aircraft into similar types of operations (transient or local). Mid-air conflicts arise when airspace becomes congested with aircraft of dissimilar performance characteristics, missions, and types of operations. The SFRA attempts to reduce traffic conflicts by creating a more orderly flow of traffic over the Hudson and East Rivers.

Hudson River Exclusion (Transient and Local Operations)

If you wish to conduct a transient operation (flying from one end of the Hudson River to the other without maneuvering or loitering), you've got two options. First, you can transition the class Bravo airspace above the Hudson river (with an ATC clearance, of course) if you wish to operate at or above 1,300' MSL. Second, you may operate in the "Hudson River Exclusion" between 1,000' and 1,299' MSL without an ATC clearance. Local operations operate over the Hudson River below 1,000'.

Transient operations are expected to "keep right" over the Hudson River. Meaning, southbound flights should fly along the west side of the river, and northbound flights should fly along the east side of the river.

East River Exclusion

The FAA does not distinguish between transient and local operations for aircraft flying over the East River. The East River Exclusion extends from the surface to the floor of overlying Class Bravo airspace and does require an ATC clearance to operate within.

Hudson and East River Exclusions

There are some general rules that pertain to both Exclusions:

• Do not exceed 140 knots indicated airspeed.
• The use of navigation/position lights is required (if equipped), even during daylight hours (as is the use of anticollision lights, but those would be required anyway). The use of landing lights is also recommended.
• Self-announce your position on the appropriate radio frequency for the Hudson River or East River. Frequencies can be found on the New York TAC chart.
• You must have a current New York TAC chart onboard and be familiar with the information contained therein.

The New York Terminal Area Chart contains the info you need to navigate the SFRA, including locations of mandatory position reports that are required to be made on the appropriate advisory frequency.

Local operations (below 1,000' MSL) that wish to circle the Statue of Liberty should circle counter-clockwise.

That sums up the major points of the New York SFRA. Although specific training is not required to operate within the SFRA, it is recommended. Visit FAASafety.gov to take the free training course.

Drawing Lines in the Sky

It is well documented that pilots who fly multiple instrument approach attempts to an airport are engaging in high risk flying. Many pilots crash on a second, third, or fourth (or more!) approach attempt in bad weather. This is why it's illegal for air carriers to attempt an instrument approach to an airport when the reported weather conditions are below minimums. Many pilots have perished while "taking a peek" on an approach. If the advertised weather at the field is below the approach minimums, don't peek, just divert. Peeking often involves fudging on minimums, and fudging often involves crashing.

If memory serves me, I remember reading about a pilot of a single engine airplane who crashed after seven approach attempts to an airport in bad weather. Seven! What was he thinking (or rather, not thinking)? So, what caused this pilot to crash? Was it the low weather? The approach procedure? The airplane? None of the above. It was the human that caused the crash. Clearly, this pilot deviated from the charted approach procedure and wandered into a dangerous area. Had the pilot not strayed from the charted procedure's courses and/or altitudes, he would not have crashed. No one has ever come to grief while flying on the final approach course at or above the minimum descent altitude (MDA) or decision altitude (DA). It just doesn't happen.

During the descent out of the enroute structure and into the approach structure the risk level is continuously rising. If only we had a "current risk level" gauge on the panel, color coded in green, yellow, and red arcs. Instead, we must visualize this in our minds throughout the various phases of flight. As we descend closer to those things which can hurt us, terrain and obstructions, we must be extra careful. When I'm flying IFR, I like to think of the ground beneath me as a spike pit. Airports are small areas carved out of the spike pit that are safe for airplanes to touch. The approach phase requires us to operate closer to the spike pit for a longer period of time than any other phase of flight. Because we can't see the spikes (trees, antennas, structures) while operating in clouds, one of the simplest and most definite ways of staying safe is to follow the lines and altitudes drawn on the approach chart. The chart could be thought of as a treasure map showing the only tried and true way through the cave to the destination. Deviating from the published path will lead you into uncertain and dangerous conditions. That's what happens when pilots "duck below" the MDA or DA to try to get a better view. The spikes get them.

When I reflect on accidents involving multiple approach attempts like the one above, I become aware of the true problem which causes these accidents. Lack of discipline. Every approach procedure should be flown exactly the same. They would be if pilots would let them be. If pilots would simply follow the charted procedure exactly, we would see no IFR approach accidents. Every instrument approach procedure is guaranteed to keep the airplane safely away from terrain and obstructions if it's flown and adhered to properly. It's when pilots stray from the beaten path out into uncharted airspace that they find trouble lurking in the gray. The pilot who flew seven approaches, however foolish, still wouldn't have had to crash on the last attempt had he just followed the charted procedure.

The approach phase of an IFR flight requires the greatest level of discipline and strict adherence to course and altitude guidance. The only way to avoid flying into something we can't see is to draw lines in the sky, and never cross those lines for any reason. Approach charts draw those lines for us. They're clear and simple, and we're prohibited from crossing them because danger lurks on the other side. Instrument approach procedures promise to keep us safe as long as we promise to never stray from them. If you reach the missed approach point and don't absolutely positively see the runway, you've reached the line drawn in the sky on the approach and you must immediately and enthusiastically initiate a missed approach. That's the only way to stay safe for sure. Venturing across that line is a massive gamble; you may or may not crash, but you're guaranteed to at least come closer.

Sometimes humans overthink things. That can lead to trouble on an instrument approach. The best way to fly an approach is to keep it very simple. Runway environment not in sight at the decision altitude? Simple: Go missed. Don't wait, don't hope, just move on to the next course of action. Multiple approach attempts are situations where pilots are likely to cross lines drawn in the sky, and unless there was some major weather event that might indicate the weather has improved for the next approach, don't do this. If the approach was flown properly the first time and it resulted in a miss, the same will be true the second and third time. Diverting to an alternate is a good way of ensuring you won't cross the line into unprotected and dangerous airspace.

"Intercept the Localizer..."

"Cherokee five mike charlie, turn left heading 120, intercept the runway 8 Left localizer." Most instrument pilots have received an ATC instruction like this, but many don't understand its meaning. Implicit in this instruction is a limit not to descend or otherwise fly the approach procedure via your own navigation. Some pilots confuse this instruction with an approach clearance and believe they're cleared to descend and fly the charted procedure. Not yet. That clearance will most likely come shortly.

When a controller issues an instruction to "intercept the localizer," he's giving you a simple lateral instruction, much like an instruction to join an airway. He does not expect you to do anything other than just what he said, join the localizer. You might also hear a controller use this phraseology in lieu of "intercept." "Join the localizer" carries with it the same meaning and expectations. Turn onto the localizer, fly it, and await further clearance. DO NOT fly the approach procedure until you hear the words "cleared for XXX approach." You're not authorized to descend or make any turns called for by the approach until you've received approach clearance.

When a controller does issue an approach clearance, he's releasing you from his instructions to fly the approach under your own navigation following the charted procedure's courses and altitudes. Until you hear those magic words, "cleared for XXX approach," the controller is keeping you tight on his leash and you must obey only his commands.

So, why do controllers issue instructions only to intercept the localizer instead of fly the approach? Controllers have rules about when they can issue approach clearances to aircraft depending on traffic and your distance and altitude from the airport or some other fix. The controller can't let you off his leash to conduct the approach procedure until certain conditions are met. He'll clear you when he can, and in the meantime maintain your assigned altitude and simply do as he says, intercept the localizer and track it inbound.