Category: Blog

disclaimer: I wrote this entry entirely from my Blackberry while on a trip, so if there are gross gramatical errors, I apologize.

Seems like an eternity since I’ve started flight training, yet here I am years later still training. I guess a pilots life is defined by it, maybe one day I’ll get use to it.

Even after giving hundreds of checkrides I myself still get nervous. At no point in anyones career is it fun to be put under a microscope. Especially when it involves such a skill that you excersice with great pride in performing flawlessly. To have someone observe and ridicule or rejoice of your abilities, makes for a very stressfull day. I don’t think you will ever feel as truly exposed and vulnerable about your job than when on a check ride.

The stress to perform, the stress to impress or do a good job, or even to just pass, is immense. No matter where you go, or who you will be checked by, they will likely have years of experince in excess of ten fold your own. They will squint funny when you exclaim an incorrect detail, or smile when you are perplexed by a question they’ve asked hundred of applicants just the same as you. I know because I do it. It is this behind the scenes detail of repitition that I fear and loathe.

If this event was good for anything it was definitely a wonderful regaining and refreshing of a perspective I haven’t had in a while. If you knew the reputations and the rumors of my check rides you would understand as do I, the stress I create. Nothing of purpose or intent towards the applicant, I’m not malicious as I am thorough and strict.

On the morning of my checkride, I woke from an uneasy and uncomfortable sleep. The clock barely moved past 2 AM as I stared in bewilderment at it. I had the feeling of a young child on the morning of Christmas. I wanted it not to be 2 AM but rather closer to noon. Done with my check ride and hopefully newly printed certificate in hand. Yet no matter how strong my will power for time changing telekenisis, it was a fruitless labor.

The hours grinded by, marked by shifting in bed relentlessly and checking the time. It was like torture and my brain joined in the treatment. I envisioned my checkride, going over every detail I could possibly think of, yet my brain focused on the dismal outcome it pretended would occur. Apparently my mind had little faith in my abilities and decided to show me pictures of my pathetic failure. I envisioned not even get to the runway for takeoff, failing, and the ridicule I would receive. It had been on my mind for days, yet this early morning was an all out assault on my ego and conscious self image. How could I walk around doing my job so strict and composed if I had failed to even pass a check ride of my own? Oh how they would cackle with revenged pleasure. This torturous thought plagued me and stole a night of sleep.

When I finally ended the clock watching, it was 5 AM. My alarm wasn’t set to alert me for another hour, but I was done pretending I had any ability to sleep anymore. Almost automatically I prepared myself for the day. Completing my morning routine without so much a thought on what I was doing, yet almost entirely on what was about to be. It’s perhaps a miracle I didn’t arrive to the examiner with a half shaven beard, missing shirt buttons and my pants unzipped. Then again, maybe I did.

I got to the airport just over an hour ahead of the time I was to meet the examiner. I knew this examiner well, not in a personal friendship manner, but merely professionally. He had completed an earlier check for my muti engine instructor rating and countless checks for my students. I know what he likes, what he hates, and how to keep him relatively happy. In reality I don’t think he’s ever happy, just degrees of how unhappy he is, and you hope he isn’t when you are scheduled to meet him. He is the perfect example of old world aviators. His balding hair is mostly unkempt and ragged, in place of grey is wrinkled proof of experience and stress. His thick glasses rest heavily on his face and he frequently adjusts them as they must be uncomfortable. Everytime he moves them he squints his eyes as if he now can’t see the floor in front of him. His short stature is accented with his overweight belly. He walks with a slight limp from an injured knee. He carries a milk box crate, holding his headset and documents for todays flight. This primitive flight bag is also used as his step stool to board the aircraft.

His experience is only surpassed by his age. Regardless of truth, its commonly believed he has flown anything and everything that was ever created for the purpose of flight. His legacy stems from an in flight emergency in a fleet Seminole at our airport. Details are blurry but somewhere in flight a propeller seperates from the engine. As if giving up its responsibilities mid-flight, it left an engine shuddering like an earth quake. Without the balance of two blades the vibration will ultimately end the life of the still operating engine. Within moments the vibration is so fierce it removes the engine from almost all its mounts and half ejects the block from the underside of the nacelle. This is problematic for a flying airplane. If you think assymetrical drag is bad with a windmilling propeller, imagine if you can, the drag created from an entire engine dangling beneath the aircraft. As if a Cliffhanger cameo was happening right then, the engine lingered by what must have been a thread. The aircraft was under control but they struggled to ease it down for landing. Once in the traffic pattern to land, they extended the landing gear. This proved to be the near fatal decision of the day. Introducing even more drag to the situation, airspeed became a hot commodity they had little of to spare. In the base to final turn the airplane was no longer able to sustain flight and began to lose directional control. No matter what input for heading control was commanded, the aircraft lethargically declined to perform. This resulted in a predictable roll over towards the half ejected engine. Due either to extreme luck, precise decision making and aircraft control the aircraft struck trees in what is retold by many to be nearly an inverted attitude.

Examiner and applicant walked away.
reference: I was sent a link to the NTSB report for this incident. Something I very well should have done on my own! Thanks Charles.

Now you know the stigma and lore of one of the oldest and most experienced pilot examiners in my area. How could you not tremble with fear at the idea of trying to impress him? Before you even introduce his attitude and demeanor, this tale strikes fear in anyone set to spend time with him for an evaluation.

We sat down at the table after a short exchange of paperwork confirmations. The adrenaline is now flowing with intense vigor. My heart rate has at least doubled. After a few minutes it will subside, but I’ve just been amped by a Niagra sized rush of the best drug ever created. All this excitement and I haven’t even stepped foot in an airplane.

The actual oral consisted entirely of systems of the aircraft. A subject I regularly test of applicants and to be frank, if I didn’t get this one right I probably would have quit my job. As I should have. Luckily, I apparently know the systems of the Piper Seminole. Better than I should if I could brag.

This portion of the exam was much shorter than expected. Cruising through questions with ease, we progressed quickly to discussion of the flight. In a short while I was out preflighting the aircraft.

It was during my preflight that I gave myself a heart attack. One of the many preflight duties includes ensuring the aircraft will fly in the we’ll known ‘envelope’. I had calculated this days prior based on a typical aircraft and planned to adjust it as neccessary the day of the flight. In my haste of the morning, not only did I not update it, I didn’t even check the position of the center of gravity to ensure its position was kosher. Well. It wasn’t. Not by a little, but a lot.

I swore out loud.

How could I have made this stupid mistake? I have done this thousands of times. Just looking at the number that was calculated I could see it was clearly out of range. Yet in my blind thoughtless work, I missed it. Complacency. It could have hurt a lot had that gone unchecked. I was angry I let myself make such a blatent error, yet I was glad that I not only caught it, but had made a mistake prior to the flight. Perhaps superstition, but there will always be at least one thing wrong with evey flight. Its inevitable. I was happy to get it out of the way early and without my examiner privvy to it.

When he limped out to the aircraft he boarded without much of any words. We strapped in and I had a feeling wash over me that I hadn’t felt for a long while. A strange nervousness blended with confidence and stress. A focus ensues that reassures my body and brain of what I’m about to do. I have visualized over and over this moment and the moments to come. If I were ever prepared for anything, it was this event.

I began my work that I had so many times done before and instructed. Its always glorious when a flight instructor gets to do, and not watch. We spend 90% of our time watching, coaching, and teaching. Very few times do I get to demonstrate or even fly myself. So this check ride is fun because I’m in the hot seat making it happen. That alone fills me with a sense of purpose and ability. Quickly and efficiently getting the airplane ready for taxi, we leave the parking spot destined for a runway.

Performing the required checks and briefs of emergency actions, we move for the runway. This is it. The sun has risen halfway to high noon and the heat is following. Waiting for takeoff clearance is like watching someone eat a hearty meal while you druel and starve in wonderment of what it must taste like. Watching the previuos aircraft roar to a full speed gallop towards the sky. Anxious to take that leap as well, they make us wait, as if to punish my child like eagerness. This moment makes me know I chose the right profession. I am madly in love with my mistress, aviation.

“Seminole four three one six uniform, runway two-niner left, cleared for take-off”

“Runway two-niner left, cleared for takeoff, one six uniform, good morning”

My glee was surely felt through the radio and in the control tower. I expect no complementary return of politeness. I just feel like sharing that I’m excited to fly and everyone needs to know it.

Shortly after takeoff, the left engine grew quiet and showed signs of giving up. Controlling the airplane first, I started a sequence almost as memorized and easily recalled at a moments notice as the pledge of allegiance.

Mixtures, props, throttles, flaps up, gear up, identify failure, verify failure, feather dead engine prop, mixture cutoff dead engine, cowl flap closed, alternator off, magnetos off, fuel pump off, fuel selector off.

Before I could perform the feathering the engine awakens from its momentary slumber and I have finished the first of many simulated engine failures for the day. Before the end of this flight the engine will have been ‘failed’ in every conceivable scenario deemed critical. One will end in a complete shutdown and feathering to show my competence and lack of fear(I guess) of flying with only a single engine to keep us aloft.

Overall the flight was begnign. I struggled many times to hear and understand the commands of my examiner. He showed frustrations in having to repeat and clarify what he wanted me to perform. However I was relentless in seeking clarification. A miscommunication of expectations is never good, and the applicant is always the one to blame for lack of understanding the examiner. An excuse I have heard personally many times on check rides, and one I refuse to be subjected to myself.

With little to no commentary from my examiner, I knew he must be somewhat happy with my performance. He made no substantial comments, and just commanded items next to be completed. By the end of the flight I began feeling I had done what I should have, when I should have. Some mistakes had been made that were corrected quickly- none so much outside the boundaries of the requirements. All had gone as planned.

So now my certificate holds three levels of pilot capabilities. Private pilot for seaplanes, commercial pilot for single engine airplaned, and the fresh minted airline transport pilot for multi engine airplanes. It is unlikely that I will ever add another level or class to this. I have reached the top.

Now if only we could get this industry turned around, furloughed men and women back to work, and the natural flow to resume. I can’t wait for the opportunity to continue my never ending aviation education in the form of different airplanes, locales, and duties.

Four.

This has happened four times. To me.

The first time it happened I hadn't been a flight instructor for two weeks. I was doing touch and go landing practice at an airport just north of Vero. Shortly after take off, the airplane began running rough and lost power. I think I had somewhere around 350 hours of flight time then. This was a pretty monumental test of my ability two weeks into the job. I remember it vividly.

We had just taken off runway 8, probably around 200-300 feet above the ground when it happened. I said a very nervous "my controls!". I turned the plane around and re landed on the runway we just departed on. This plane gave power back after the initial power loss, which will prove to be the case with each. The engine never really 'fails' it just temporarily loses power. However when you fly a single engine airplane and the only thing keeping you in the air starts to sound unhappy, the effects are very scary.

The second time it happened wasn't much time after the first. About two months later I experienced this again, but this time it was in the traffic pattern in Vero. I was with a student practicing touch and go landings (I should avoid this huh?) on the small runway. We were upwind of the runway at about 700 feet, my student was just starting his crosswind turn when the engine shuddered and lost power. We were in a much better position than previously. We had altitude and the airplane was nearly pointed at the airport. Easy peasy.

The third time it happened was almost exactly 2 years after the first. It's incredible the way experience shows you the way. This time it happened at nearly 1200 feet. We had just departed from Vero and were climbing out to the practice area for some maneuvers. I took controls, informed tower that we were returning to the airport, and landed without incident. I knew the scenario, I knew the engine wouldn't completely lose power, I knew we were ok.

The last time it happened was just a short while ago.

It was more complex and time critical than any of my previous attempts.

I was on a night flight with a student. We had to complete 16 landings and fly for a little over three hours. It was going to be a long flight. We took off from Vero and after a few touch and go landings we departed to the north. In an effort to make the flight not feel like a three hour flight, we did a few landings at random airports along the way. In hindsight, I'm very happy that this didn't happen at one airport in particular.

There is an airport just to the south-east of where our evening stay was. We did a few landings here; short runway, water on one end of the runway, and congested buildings and houses on the other end. This story would read much differently if this had happened here.

Anyways, I'm getting a little ADD'ish. Focus.

We went to Titusville for some touch and go landings(hrmm). One thing to know about Titusville, they have quite possibly the largest fleet of helicopters for a flight school. The airspace is always buzzing with helicopters, day or night. This evening was no different. When we first arrived there were 2-3 helicopters in the traffic pattern. No problem, we joined the traffic pattern and began our work. Since I had to do 16 landings I was just interested in getting them over with as quickly as possible.

I think we had done 2-3 landings when it finally happened. Promptly after a touch and go at or around 100-200 feet the engine shuddered, began running rough and lost power. This was a new place for me. I have almost 2000 hours of flight experience, yet only 150 hours at night. Night time alone adds a dimension of difficulty, yet an overcast layer of clouds blocked the moonlight. It was dark.

"My controls"

I immediately idled the engine power and pushed the nose down to look in front of the plane. All I really noticed ahead of the airplane were the red lights telling me where the end of the runway is. I didn't have enough runway ahead to stop the airplane safely. I looked to my right and saw another runway with plenty of distance for me to be able to stop the airplane. I hesitated for a moment. Taxiing across that runway was a helicopter. Here I was at night, trying to re land an airplane over a helicopter. If this were a movie, John Woo would be the director and this next part would happen in slow motion with explosions in the background.

I looked back in front of the airplane again to be sure there was no way I could possibly just land straight ahead. Oh no. Those red lights just got a lot closer. I wanted to say something on the radio to warn the helicopter to move his butt off the runway. My mouth wasn't ready to speak yet. My brain power had been diverted to my hands and feet flying an airplane. I made the turn to the crossing runway, which was 90 degrees from the runway I took off from(departed an east runway, landed on the south runway).

"two zero victor landing 18!"

It was an excellent landing. Intense focus and adrenaline really make for great landings.

I taxied clear of the runway and stopped and ensured my students were still breathing. I have to say, every single student that was sitting in the left seat when these four events occurred, really took it well. As a flight instructor you always hear horror stories of students that will lock up on the controls, panic, or puke. Those are three things you never want a student to do. All my students just sat back, didn't say a word and watched it all unfold.

I knew what happened was more than likely fouled spark plugs, and I knew that the likeliness of it happening again that night was extremely rare. However I was not comfortable leaping back into the air at night to possibly have to attempt this again.

We use AVGAS that has an octane rating of 100. Specifically we use 100 low lead. Now even the name is a lie, because this 'low lead' fuel has a lot more lead than your run of the mill unleaded fuel. Lead is an additive that works really well in preventing engine 'knocking' or technically known as detonation. Essentially when an engine burns fuel it is desirable for it to smoothly burn in the precise cycle of the engine. When it instead explodes it creates engine 'knocking' and can seriously damage an engine. Unfortunately lead works the best for this.

Now speaking to aviation, the lead content is there for the same reason. Even though it's considered to be 'low lead' enough exists to create problems. This is exacerbated by Florida's heat and humidity. Warm air is less dense, which creates an excessively rich fuel to air ratio. This means a lot of unburned fuel is left in the cylinders during combustion, this in turn leaves lead deposits in the cylinder. Now if you paid attention in chemistry you would already know that lead doesn't conduct electricity well. SO essentially what happens, over time lead builds up and can get caught in the spark plug. Now most of the time the lead is just ejected from the cylinders by the exhaust valve, but sometimes, when you get REALLY lucky they stay. Even luckier, stuck in the spark plug.

This essentially kills the cylinders power, and an engine is all about balance. When one cylinder stops producing power it really messes with the rest of the engine. This is what causes the shuddering and the engine roughness.

The lessons learned from these four events are very diverse for nearly being the exact same event. Every time this problem presented itself it was due to fouling of spark plugs. I hope one day when the engine actually fails, loses complete power, or just stops, I will be as ready for it as I was with these.

Through it all I learned to be patient, aware and always looking for the next spot to land a disabled airplane.

If you have worked at or attended as a student at FlightSafety, perhaps you've heard of the Dirkmaat Flu.

It hasn't been quite an epidemic as of late, but for a while there it was a real killer. A modern day polio. Maybe even black plague. Some weeks it struck multitudes of the population, seemingly spreading like fire. Other weeks it was tame, possibly in remission. Just when you would think it was all but extinguished it would come right back out of remission and rear its ugly metaphorical head.

Nobody wants to do a stage check with Dirkmaat.

How did we get to this place? What happened along the way to create this symposium of hatred? Who did I offend? Who did I fail that thought it to be unfair? Oh that's it, everyone. Everyone wants to pass. I get it. Nobody really wants to fail. It's not human nature to desire failure. Nobody wants someone else to fail. Nobody really does. If I pass everyone what does that make me? Better? Worse?

I have never wanted anyone to fail. OK. I lied there. But most people I don't want to fail. Honestly.

When I became a check instructor I thought it would be an excellent learning experience for me. Let me tell you what. You think you're nervous going on that commercial check ride? Imagine being responsible for GIVING the check ride! It's now your responsibility to ensure this guy knows what he's talking about, and can fly an airplane without making you feel like you're about to die. You could quite possibly be the last person he flies with before moving onto some job. You could be the last person to say 'He's good' before he rams that Lear jet into a mountain with 5 of his boss' closest friends. You think you got pressure?

I think the mantra of my father to me growing up was "If you're going to do anything, don't do it half-assed." I'm pretty sure growing up I had no idea what "half-assed" meant. I've tried to take that advice to heart. I saw it as a big responsibility accepting the position, and I didn't want to let anyone down(including dear old dad). Now that sounds pretty pathetic I know, but lets be honest. I'm a high school dropout that never went to college and here I am in charge of giving people a license?! This is about as big as I've been yet. This is my only shot at doing it right. I have to do this right, otherwise I have nothing else.

I've really tried to be the best evaluator I could be.

I will admit that I had a rocky start. I took it a little too seriously, or more appropriately too literally. I feel truly sorry for the guys and gals that took those first stage checks. Unfortunately it was a learning process and I had to learn. Just like I had to learn to become a flight instructor, I had to learn to become a successful evaluator. That takes time just like anything else.

I feel like I've hit my groove now.

Coming back into the traffic pattern today on a multi engine stage check, I noticed we were unable to clearly hear the towers transmission. After the student made the initial radio call to establish two-way radio communication and receive traffic pattern entry instructions, the towers reply came back broken. Missing key words including our call sign, and detailed entry instructions. Instead we heard bits and pieces of what should have been a complete response.

My student understanding that it was extremely likely to be the radio call intended for us, and correctly assuming what the instructions were, read back a response that would have been considered normal. This made me think. I didn’t like that we had just accepted pattern entry instructions for who we can only ASSUME was intended for us.

Being the check airman I am, I began thinking. Have we actually established two-way radio communication? I never heard tower read back my callsign. My student could have easily just read back a clearance intended for someone else and were about to enter the airspace without established communication. Or worse, I could create a traffic conflict with the aircraft that the radio call was actually for. This thought process was not making me feel comfortable. I thought about it a little longer.

I thought about how upset the tower would be if I asked for clarification on a radio call I wasn’t sure about. I thought about the different ways he would yell at me, or how he would condescendingly re-read the clearance. I thought maybe the problem would just go away. Maybe there is no problem. I thought if we could just get our landing clearance nobody would notice.

It’s funny how the human brain works. I would and will always teach any student that if you are ever unsure about a clearance, an instruction, or suggestion; Never ever hesitate to request clarification, a repeat, or a new clearance. Here I am saying how I’m totally unsure to myself and I’m debating myself on if I should or shouldn’t query ATC about it!

“Tower radio check, how do you hear?”
“I hear you loud and clear”
“Tower, I read you broken”

This would prove to be a very frustrating conversation. In my mind the word “broken” must mean something completely different.

“Well apparently you’re experience problems, so better just land and check out the problem”
“How about I check out our second radio”

Second radio had the same issue. The towers transmissions were coming through “broken”. Now if you’re unfamiliar with how radios work, I’ll make it really really easy. Having the same problem with both radios at the same time is like winning the lottery twice in a row on a Wednesday in July. Unpossibile(sic). Unlikely.

“Still experiencing the same issue tower, I’ll keep you advised”

Of course he doesn’t respond to me.

After landing we heard the next few transmissions perfectly clear. I again stated that our problem was resolved, and he didn’t care. I had to terminate my stage check because the tower believed I had an issue, that really didn’t exist. It frustrated me to no end to have the tower make a decision for me when I didn’t need them to.

The moral of this story is this: Don’t ever hesitate to ask for clarification, or a repeat of a clearance. Even if the controller is a complete psychopathic jerk.