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Basic Instruments

Keep the pointy end forward and the dirty side down.

Flying along, watching the Stormscope and radar and adjusting the heading to try to minimize the challenges of the day, I thought for a minute about how nice it is to have so much information on weather. As my mind wandered, so did the heading — about 10 degrees. That brought me back to the moment, as well as to the realization that all the devices in the world are worthless unless the airplane is flown properly. Pilot ability and judgment is a 10 on the scale of importance where equipment beyond the minimum required is a far lower number.

This takes us to the subject of basic control of the airplane, on instruments in this case. Instrument training consists of a lot of things, including almost endless instrument approaches and holding patterns. It is all good practice, but it is also all rooted in basic instrument flying. If you can't hold a heading, turn accurately to a heading, maintain airspeed and altitude, and change both as required, you simply don't have a chance. If you rely on an autopilot to do all this for you and don't maintain the basic skills, a simple failure of one of the most failure-prone things in an airplane can lead to serious trouble.

In light-airplane flying, our weakness in this area is evident. Every year, we lose a lot of airplanes during enroute flying, many due to a loss of control. The airlines and military lose very few airplanes in the enroute phase of flight. This raises the immediate question of whether the chore is more than a lone pilot can handle. I'll address that in a moment.

Further evidence of a problem can be found in talking with any instructor who does proficiency training. They will almost always say that the greatest weakness they see is in basic instrument flying.

Maybe this shortcoming comes from the subject being so basic that it also seems simple. It may seem so, but the fact is that if you are a VFR pilot who blunders into a cloud, or you are an IFR pilot faced with the necessity of hand flying, you have two choices. You fly basic instruments, or bang, you are dead.

Starting with everything in the airplane working, you likely have at least an attitude indicator, a heading indicator, a turn coordinator or indicator, and the other usual instruments. With all this, it is possible to fly the airplane with astounding precision. In normal weather, you can go all day with the altitude precisely nailed, the heading within a degree, and the airspeed always in the proper place. It can only be done, though, if the attention of the pilot is always in the proper place at the proper time and if the principles are understood.

The attitude of the airplane is the foundation of basic instrument flying. If the wings are level and the ball is in the center, the airplane is not turning, so the heading will remain okay. If the pitch attitude is correct and the power and trim are set properly, the altitude and airspeed will be just fine. The weakness that most pilots develop comes from having so much stuff on the instrument panel that they look at the wrong thing at the wrong time.

For example, say you are hand flying, and you need to get out a new chart, select the proper approach chart, or reprogram the loran. This has to be classified as a diversion, a time when the risk of a loss of control is greatest. What to look at? The attention has to be divided between two things — the diversion and the attitude of the airplane. If the airplane is properly trimmed and the power is set correctly, the airplane is stable in pitch, so that is no big deal as long as the wings are kept level. So the chore is relatively simple as long as proper attention is paid to important things. Glance from the attitude indicator to the diversion and back with a single purpose when looking at the attitude indicator: Keep the wings level. In airplanes with an effective rudder, many pilots take their hands off the control wheel and use rudder to keep the wings level when the entire attention span cannot be devoted to the attitude of the airplane.

The heading is also an important basic element of instrument flying. When going somewhere, there is one heading that will take the airplane along the desired track. Some pilots wander 20 or 30 degrees either side of that heading, chasing little aberrations in the VOR indication. Until you fly a constant heading for a while, though, you have no earthly idea of whether or not the airplane is on the proper track. A good loran is a great aid here. If it gives the current track and the desired track, you quickly know whether or not the heading is correct. But again, you have to fly a constant heading for the loran to give you the actual track.

Perhaps the best way to settle into a good pattern of basic instrument flying is to prioritize the activities. You are cleared to somewhere, to maintain a certain altitude. That is real simple; all it takes to accomplish the objective is management of the heading and the altitude of the airplane. They are thus the most important items. The heading takes the airplane down the airway or direct routing, and the altitude keeps the controller and his computer happy.

Little diversions like managing charts and other things count, and bigger diversions, such as turbulence or mechanical problems, escalate the importance of basic instrument flying to a critical level. There are times when a pilot needs to discard from his mind all thoughts other than keeping the airplane in the proper attitude. I thought a lot about this on a recent trip when precipitation static aced all the navigational radios in the airplane and when information from the Stormscope dictated the heading and turbulence was a possibility. "Wow," I thought, "now all I have to do is select a heading based on the Stormscope information and fly that heading and maintain the assigned altitude." Life, and flying, had suddenly become simpler. No real bumps appeared, but if they had, I was of the proper mind-set to do nothing other than keep the wings of the airplane level.

When the real bumps do occur, as they inevitably will if you fly much, the most basic thing to do is keep the wings level. If they are kept within 15 or 20 degrees of level and if the airplane is properly trimmed and the power is correct, the airplane will likely ride out the squall. In real turbulence, the feeling can become one of being trapped in a small ship in a big and angry sea, but if the pilot can relax as much as possible and smoothly keep the wings level, the effect of the turbulence can be minimized. Turbulence seldom requires the pilot to move the controls abruptly, though some pilots do counter each bump with a jerk on the controls, whether or not it is needed. On a clear but turbulent day, experiment with just holding the control wheel stock still to see how much the turbulence is affecting the attitude of the airplane and how much reflexive, and not necessarily correct, pilot inputs are affecting the airplane. We do make a lot of the turbulence for ourselves.

Basic instrument flying becomes even more important when things start to go wrong. If the problem is with an instrument or with the instrument power source, we have to first identify what is giving correct information and what is giving incorrect information. Then, using the correct information, we have to tend to the basics of having the airplane trimmed properly, having the power set properly, and keeping the wings level unless a turn is desired. I once had the opportunity to fly after a vacuum failure from Flight Level 190 down to about 2,000 feet in clouds, using the turn coordinator only. It was quite uncomfortable at first, but once I told the controller that he was taking care of the navigation and I settled in on the turn coordinator, just concentrating on keeping the wings level, it became easier — but still not so easy that, once the airplane was safely tucked away in the hangar, I didn't go buy some electric instruments.

When we set out to improve our basic instrument flying, the best question to ask relates to where and when we look at various instruments and indications. If there is trouble flying ILS approaches, it is almost always because of fixation on the navigational data. If, for example, the ILS shows the airplane to be right of the localizer and a little high, that information has to be taken to the attitude indicator where a little turn and a slight pitch adjustment is made. Still concentrating on the attitude indicator, the wings are leveled and held that way for a moment. Then a furtive glance at the ILS information gives a grade on the new heading and attitude. It is probably not possible to reduce something like this to percentages, but I'd bet that, on a well-flown ILS, the pilot spends only about 10 percent or less of the time looking at the ILS indicator — unless a flight director is fitted.

The flight director gives us a good lesson in the basics, too. It takes the navigational data and commands the attitude of the airplane to make things work out. The pilot's basic attention is always on attitude. To fly an ILS properly without a flight director, all we have to do is remember how one works and fly with that in mind. Attitude is primary.

A lot of things can add challenges to basic instrument flying. I remember a pilot saying one day that the chore given him by a controller was more than could reasonably be asked. While this pilot was in the process of intercepting the ILS, the controller was asking for maximum speed for as long as possible. Where the pilot erred was in not getting the basics down and in mentally making the task more complex than it really was. The assigned heading had to be flown until the localizer was intercepted. One power setting could be maintained to keep the speed up until closer to the airport. Then the power could go to another value, the landing gear and approach flaps could be extended, and the pitch attitude could be adjusted to track the glideslope. That is not really a lot to do.

I asked the question earlier: Is all this attention to basic attitude flying while trying to navigate and perhaps solve a problem too much for a pilot flying alone to manage? Can and does it overwhelm the lone pilot often and lead to the losses of control that are relatively common in general aviation? I think the answer is yes and no. I also think there is no reason the answer has to be yes.

Where the answer is yes, it has to be traced back to training. The Federal Aviation Administration prescribes what is done during training, but in reality, that has to be a minimum. Contrast what the FAA requires and the actual demands on an instrument pilot, and you can see what I mean. The rules do not specifically require that an applicant for an instrument rating have talked to an air traffic controller on the radio or have flown using radar vectors, yet these two things are high on the list of diversions that we deal with. The rules do not require that an applicant have any ability at flying in turbulence, which is a major diversion. The rules do not require realistic training in dealing with instrument malfunctions. These are all things that are covered in type-specific simulator training but that can be glossed over in basic instrument training. There is a reason for it, too. These are simply difficult things to regulate, but pilots can and should insist on as much diversion training as possible.

There are times, too, when the greatest diversion of all can be nothing. When the air is glassy smooth and the airplane feels like it is suspended in a glass of milk, it can be difficult to keep the mind on the job of basic instrument flying. It is at such a time that the possibility of spatial disorientation might be greatest. Certainly in training, we don't learn the fine art of droning along with no bumps or events to keep the thinking process on high alert.

If we are to fly IFR alone or are faced with managing the airplane after an inadvertent entry into instrument conditions, all that is required for success is the proper perspective and attention to the basics.

Here is something to practice the next time you go hood flying with an instructor (when I worked in instrument training for the Air Force, we called it the Vertical "S-1"): Fly a specific heading and altitude. Simultaneously roll into a left standard-rate turn and begin a 500-foot-per-minute descent. After descending 500 feet, transition to a 500-fpm rate of climb, and reverse the direction of turn to a standard rate to the right. Do this until you get back to the beginning altitude where everything reverses again, but this time, you descend 400 feet and then reverse and climb back to the beginning altitude and change again. Next time, go down 300 feet, next time 200 feet, and, finally, 100 feet. At first, you may feel like you are patting your head and rubbing your tummy simultaneously, but anyone who can fly a perfect Vertical "S-1," especially on partial panel, is one hot basic instrument pilot.

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