That's why I called him Dick. (Part 1)
Posted: Tue Dec 17, 2019 3:19 am
Talked so much this time that I had to break the story into 2 parts.
Here I sit on the 16th of December 2019 in Dallas TX looking out over the hotel car park watching the wind blow the flags in the parking lot horizontally, temperature 37 degrees F, wind 17 mph gusting 26 mph, chill factor 23 degrees F. Reminds me of another time about 40 years ago when I stood on the airfield ramp in another Texas town under very similar conditions about to make what could have been a premature last flight.
I had been furloughed by my airline at that time as a result of the "oil crisis" and I was employed as a sales/demonstration pilot by an aircraft sales company that had the franchise for a very nice corporate turboprop which was not selling too well because everybody had jet fever. This company had purchased a used model of the turboprop from a previous customer and had been fortunate enough to resell it almost immediately to a new customer that we will call Snow Products.
Here is the picture, Snow Products had had a twin recip. corporate aircraft, they had sold this and they were buying the turboprop. Snow already had a pilot that I will call Dick in a jovial way for a reason that you may see later. The turboprop was a single pilot aircraft. Unfortunately the previous owner had messed up the aircraft by sending it to a cheap customising operation and my company had to get all of the problems, such as wiring harnesses glued together into irrepairable messes by sealant, sorted out and the new owner wanted a new paint job. The aircraft was sent to a Texas airfield for this work. Things did not go well because everything the Texas company fixed seemed to reveal a new set of problems that needed work so the work completion date was continually slipping. However, finally, we were told we could pick-up the aircraft in a week, a prediction which any sensible man would have laughed at, however the Boss made the plans. Here was how it was supposed to work.
Snow's pilot and I would airline down to the Texas location and meet at our hotel. When the aircraft was ready we would fly it on an airtest and if this was OK we would then fly the aircraft to Snow's local airport. After this I would fly with Snow's pilot until he felt comfortable and I was happy, then Snow's pilot would fly me home as a final check before he turned around and flew home solo. Simple, what could go wrong, go wrong, go wrong?
Well, we made it to the Texas airport and, as expected, met a further delay. The result was that we were stuck in what we may call an unsophisticated night life consisting of real cowboy bars and wannabee cowboy bars all playing what is known in the US as "***** Kicking" music from the juke box (remember them). Unfortunately the most popular song at the time was "Happiness is Lubbock Texas in My Rear View Mirror" hereinafter known as "HILTIRVM". Every darn bar you went into seemed to be playing this tune when you walked in and some morons would then continually play it again for a dozen times. I grew to hate that song.
Back to the aircraft, some last work had to be done on the avionics but it had also developed a pressurisation problem - no workee. A more cerebral mechanic had decided to try some logical troubleshooting over the lunch hour. He cleverly worked out how to pressurise the aircraft on the ground by pulling breakers, shorting switches and using a ground compressor. This worked quite well until he tried to depressurise the aircraft to exit - you guessed it, he could not get out. He could not open the aircraft door to release the pressure, he could not make a radio call for help because the avionics were unpowered so he was reduced to flashing the landing lights until somebody returned from lunch, saw the flashing lights and shut down the compressor. The good part of this sub-story is that is that it provided enough info. for the clever mechanic to work out where the problem was. Somebody had drilled a neat hole in a sensor line in the cockpit wall panel when fitting a pop-rivet.
Back to the main story. Pressurisation problem fixed, avionics work completed, airtest flown with no problems whatsoever, a little general handling and a few rollers (touch and goes over here) and we are ready to leave town, thank Heaven no more "HILTIRVM", the next day after the paperwork was completed.
The next day the weather had changed. Whereas the airtest had been flown in coldish conditions at least it was only partially cloudy with nearly a 20,000 base. The next day the cold was still there but the wind had picked up and the cloud base had lowered to 4 - 600 feet of gray yuck dropping light snow which the wind attempted to blow horizontally to the Gulf of Mexico. I had never seen such high winds with such a low stratus layer but apparently this wasn't unusual for this flat part of Texas. The good news was that we only had to get out of town, the aircraft could do it and we could fly it so we prepared for departure, Dick was to fly, he would get a great crosswind take-off and then some IMC on his new instrument panel before we hopefully broke out on top for a pleasant flight home.
I should mention the instrument panel. You see, this was a single pilot aircraft. Dick had a very nice Collins FD109 instrument package in front of him which he had to transition to but this would be no problem for him. In the right seat I had a simple electrical attitude indicator, no flight director or other gubbins, and a basic compass display with a zero reader off to the side. I did not even have a VOR or ILS glide-slope display. Somehow, watching Dick work I had managed to take almost no interest in my own instrument panel.
So here we go, power up, blast down the runway with Dick's feet moving like a ballet dancer in the crosswind, rotate and up towards the cloud base. Departure clearance was to fly the assigned heading. We entered the cloud in the turn and that is when all Hell broke loose. The transition from visual to the cloud base was accompanied by 2 or 3 pretty exciting jolts, in fact we could hear stuff in the back of the aircraft crashing about. The next thing I see is Dick rolling into a very high angle of bank and I think he has lost it so I call for control and roll the wings level, meanwhile Dick is screaming "Watch your bank angle, watch your bank angle". I check my instruments and everything seems OK, wings level compass steady. I look over a Dick's panel and see his attitude indicator is showing a lot of bank. I panic and get back to my instruments to prove that I am still sane. My wings are level, I look at Dick's compass and it is steady. OK get calm, we are OK, we are flying and climbing. Dick's attitude indicator shows 40 degrees of bank and it moves as I make gentle turns but the big bank angle is still there, no flags.
Obviously we can't go anywhere like this especially because the people who can fix the problem are behind us. We call for a return to the field. An ILS approach that wasn't that great but I had to fly the aircraft and I only had raw data. When we get visual I give Dick the aircraft, he might as well get a crosswind landing, in any case it stops me making a fool of myself.
End of Part1
Here I sit on the 16th of December 2019 in Dallas TX looking out over the hotel car park watching the wind blow the flags in the parking lot horizontally, temperature 37 degrees F, wind 17 mph gusting 26 mph, chill factor 23 degrees F. Reminds me of another time about 40 years ago when I stood on the airfield ramp in another Texas town under very similar conditions about to make what could have been a premature last flight.
I had been furloughed by my airline at that time as a result of the "oil crisis" and I was employed as a sales/demonstration pilot by an aircraft sales company that had the franchise for a very nice corporate turboprop which was not selling too well because everybody had jet fever. This company had purchased a used model of the turboprop from a previous customer and had been fortunate enough to resell it almost immediately to a new customer that we will call Snow Products.
Here is the picture, Snow Products had had a twin recip. corporate aircraft, they had sold this and they were buying the turboprop. Snow already had a pilot that I will call Dick in a jovial way for a reason that you may see later. The turboprop was a single pilot aircraft. Unfortunately the previous owner had messed up the aircraft by sending it to a cheap customising operation and my company had to get all of the problems, such as wiring harnesses glued together into irrepairable messes by sealant, sorted out and the new owner wanted a new paint job. The aircraft was sent to a Texas airfield for this work. Things did not go well because everything the Texas company fixed seemed to reveal a new set of problems that needed work so the work completion date was continually slipping. However, finally, we were told we could pick-up the aircraft in a week, a prediction which any sensible man would have laughed at, however the Boss made the plans. Here was how it was supposed to work.
Snow's pilot and I would airline down to the Texas location and meet at our hotel. When the aircraft was ready we would fly it on an airtest and if this was OK we would then fly the aircraft to Snow's local airport. After this I would fly with Snow's pilot until he felt comfortable and I was happy, then Snow's pilot would fly me home as a final check before he turned around and flew home solo. Simple, what could go wrong, go wrong, go wrong?
Well, we made it to the Texas airport and, as expected, met a further delay. The result was that we were stuck in what we may call an unsophisticated night life consisting of real cowboy bars and wannabee cowboy bars all playing what is known in the US as "***** Kicking" music from the juke box (remember them). Unfortunately the most popular song at the time was "Happiness is Lubbock Texas in My Rear View Mirror" hereinafter known as "HILTIRVM". Every darn bar you went into seemed to be playing this tune when you walked in and some morons would then continually play it again for a dozen times. I grew to hate that song.
Back to the aircraft, some last work had to be done on the avionics but it had also developed a pressurisation problem - no workee. A more cerebral mechanic had decided to try some logical troubleshooting over the lunch hour. He cleverly worked out how to pressurise the aircraft on the ground by pulling breakers, shorting switches and using a ground compressor. This worked quite well until he tried to depressurise the aircraft to exit - you guessed it, he could not get out. He could not open the aircraft door to release the pressure, he could not make a radio call for help because the avionics were unpowered so he was reduced to flashing the landing lights until somebody returned from lunch, saw the flashing lights and shut down the compressor. The good part of this sub-story is that is that it provided enough info. for the clever mechanic to work out where the problem was. Somebody had drilled a neat hole in a sensor line in the cockpit wall panel when fitting a pop-rivet.
Back to the main story. Pressurisation problem fixed, avionics work completed, airtest flown with no problems whatsoever, a little general handling and a few rollers (touch and goes over here) and we are ready to leave town, thank Heaven no more "HILTIRVM", the next day after the paperwork was completed.
The next day the weather had changed. Whereas the airtest had been flown in coldish conditions at least it was only partially cloudy with nearly a 20,000 base. The next day the cold was still there but the wind had picked up and the cloud base had lowered to 4 - 600 feet of gray yuck dropping light snow which the wind attempted to blow horizontally to the Gulf of Mexico. I had never seen such high winds with such a low stratus layer but apparently this wasn't unusual for this flat part of Texas. The good news was that we only had to get out of town, the aircraft could do it and we could fly it so we prepared for departure, Dick was to fly, he would get a great crosswind take-off and then some IMC on his new instrument panel before we hopefully broke out on top for a pleasant flight home.
I should mention the instrument panel. You see, this was a single pilot aircraft. Dick had a very nice Collins FD109 instrument package in front of him which he had to transition to but this would be no problem for him. In the right seat I had a simple electrical attitude indicator, no flight director or other gubbins, and a basic compass display with a zero reader off to the side. I did not even have a VOR or ILS glide-slope display. Somehow, watching Dick work I had managed to take almost no interest in my own instrument panel.
So here we go, power up, blast down the runway with Dick's feet moving like a ballet dancer in the crosswind, rotate and up towards the cloud base. Departure clearance was to fly the assigned heading. We entered the cloud in the turn and that is when all Hell broke loose. The transition from visual to the cloud base was accompanied by 2 or 3 pretty exciting jolts, in fact we could hear stuff in the back of the aircraft crashing about. The next thing I see is Dick rolling into a very high angle of bank and I think he has lost it so I call for control and roll the wings level, meanwhile Dick is screaming "Watch your bank angle, watch your bank angle". I check my instruments and everything seems OK, wings level compass steady. I look over a Dick's panel and see his attitude indicator is showing a lot of bank. I panic and get back to my instruments to prove that I am still sane. My wings are level, I look at Dick's compass and it is steady. OK get calm, we are OK, we are flying and climbing. Dick's attitude indicator shows 40 degrees of bank and it moves as I make gentle turns but the big bank angle is still there, no flags.
Obviously we can't go anywhere like this especially because the people who can fix the problem are behind us. We call for a return to the field. An ILS approach that wasn't that great but I had to fly the aircraft and I only had raw data. When we get visual I give Dick the aircraft, he might as well get a crosswind landing, in any case it stops me making a fool of myself.
End of Part1