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 I think that argument is no longer valid after today's attack on the office building in Austin.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.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
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!).
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!).
Thursday, February 11, 2010
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.
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.
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