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Learning Experiences

Twin Terror

Everyone who has ever taken multiengine instruction knows that of all pilot ratings, it's probably the most fun. However, most multiengine instructors (MEIs) seem to be scared to death of actual single-engine instruction. Like many students I actually feathered an engine several times in the process of my instruction, but always at altitude and always very carefully.

Typically we'd climb to 5,000 or 6,000 feet and trim the airplane in a cruise configuration. Then I'd reduce power on one engine to idle, cut the mixture, and then feather the prop. The airplane would always yaw and require a rudder input on the side of the running engine. After securing the engine we'd do our single engine maneuvers. But always at altitude.

When it came time to practice single-engine landings and takeoff engine failures, my instructor, and almost every other instructor I know, used the "zero-thrust" method. The instructor usually reduced power on one engine and told me to go through the procedure verbally, "but don't actually shut the engine down." By the time I'd earned my new multiengine rating, I had never landed an airplane with one prop actually feathered.

Not long after I got my "multi," I landed a marketing research job with Cessna. One of the benefits at the time was getting checked out in nearly every Cessna you had the certificates and the ratings to fly. Soon, I had the opportunity to check out in a Cessna 310.

In previous months I'd been checked out in a number of the Cessna singles. Most of these checkouts consisted of a written exam, an oral briefing, and a flight that included stalls, steep turns, landings, and takeoffs. If you had an instrument rating, you also flew several instrument approaches. Rarely did the flying take more than 90 minutes, and after the staff got to know you and how you flew, the checkouts grew progressively shorter.

The morning I added the 310 to my checkout list I really wasn't expecting a rigorous flight. My instructor for the day, Nick, had the reputation of being cautious, but I had flown with him several times before and we were comfortable with each other in our respective roles.

Like most checkouts, the 310 ride started with a review of the written examination. It was always taken from the pilot operating handbook and contained questions that took some real digging to answer. I'd done my part of the job well and hadn't missed any of the questions.

Unlike other checkouts, Nick began with a one-hour discussion about how I was to fly this twin, and every other Cessna twin. He wanted 23 inches of manifold pressure on the approach and 19 inches in the pattern, with the first increment of flaps set. Opposite the point of intended landing I was to extend the landing gear, and when all three green gear indictor lights appeared, I was to begin my turn to base.

On base leg he wanted the second increment of flaps, and when I turned to final I could advance the props and the mixtures. When I had the runway made I was to extend the final increment of flaps and then land. If I did everything right, the descent from downwind to the runway would be accomplished by the increasing drag. I should never have to change the power until I was over the runway and ready to touch down. Never was I to allow the airplane to get slow.

I was skeptical. Nothing in my experience had prepared me for this "by the numbers" type of flying. Nick said that with few modifications, the procedure would work on any Cessna twin. I should increase the manifold pressure by two inches for turbocharged airplanes and I should use 24 to 25 inches for the Cessna 421. Otherwise, everything else remained the same.

The airplane was a beautiful new Cessna 310Q. I'd never flown anything with so much stuff on the panel, and I was excited and anxious to get going. With 260 ponies on each side the 310 accelerated rapidly. With Nick's help I executed the departure procedure from Cessna field and we climbed out to the northwest.

Nick really put me through my paces. In the air we went through every imaginable maneuver. We did slow flight, VMC demonstrations, steep turns in both directions with both engines, and with one or the other feathered. We even did full stalls.

Then we went to an abandoned Naval Air Station to practice landings and, sure enough, the procedure Nick had outlined worked perfectly. If I followed the procedure, all I had to do was to start reducing power as I came across the runway threshold while slowing the airplane with increased pitch. It resulted in a near perfect-landing every time.

As Nick became more confident in my multiengine skills he began selectively reducing power on an engine on downwind to simulate zero thrust. None of this was new to me. After a few landings with a simulated engine out, he began simulating the loss of an engine on the takeoff. Again, nothing was new.

After 2.5 hours I was getting tired, so Nick suggested that we go to Hutchinson for lunch. Hutchinson had a great airport restaurant that was famous for their large servings. During lunch Nick continued to fill me with the importance of flying the airplane the same way every time.

After lunch we returned to the old Navy field for more takeoffs and landings. On arrival I half expected Nick to pull an engine for the landing, but too my surprise he didn't. He indicated we should do a simple touch and go.

I was getting comfortable with the 310 so the landing and subsequent takeoff went exactly as expected. Passing 300 feet during the climb-out, the 310 suddenly yawed to the left. I knew Nick had pulled an engine, but I was surprised when I looked over and saw both hands in his lap. Confused, I went through the engine shut down procedure. When I got to the fuel supply, I discovered that Nick had turned the fuel off to the left engine while I was preoccupied with the takeoff.

"OK, let's take it around for a landing," he said.

"You mean like that?" I said, indicating the feathered prop.

Nick looked at me and said, "Look, after today you're going to be flying this airplane without me. I've got to know that you can do it." With that Nick turned his eyes away and began looking at the scenery as if everything was normal.

My heart was pounding. I don't know that I had ever expected to actually land a multiengine airplane with one of the props feathered. I was trained to do it if I had to, but this was just a training flight. It's just not done.

It didn't take as long to reach pattern altitude as it had taken with a simulated engine failure. As a matter of fact, the airplane was much easier to fly. As Nick had taught me, I carried two more inches of manifold pressure on the good engine, but did everything else exactly the same way, including the use of flaps. It all worked like clockwork. On final I looked at Nick, who appeared to be interested in something off to the right side of the runway, not in what I was doing.

The landing was perfect. As I taxied off the runway I asked Nick how he could be so calm with one engine shut down and a low-time multiengine pilot in the left seat.

His response was gratifying. "If I'd had any doubts I wouldn't have let you try it. I just wanted you to have the experience of landing an airplane with one engine actually shut down. Now you know there's nothing to fear from an engine failure. The airplane is actually easier to fly with one feathered than with simulated zero thrust."

Nick and I flew many times after that flight. We became friends, although not close. It had taken more than three hours of work and practice before he had enough confidence to allow me to go through with it. Later, when I was taking one of my regular six-month instrument proficiency flights, he feathered an engine and had me fly an entire instrument approach under the hood to a full landing.

I'm grateful to Nick, my friend and flight instructor. He had confidence in himself to know when I was ready for the ultimate test. His confidence gave me confidence in myself that reached far beyond flying airplanes.

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