Simulators and their close kin, flight-training devices, do a couple of things very well. They are great for learning and practicing procedures, including instrument procedures. I earned an instrument rating with the help of an ATC 610 desktop training device. I spent mornings in a conference room hunched over the 610 with an instructor coaching me while I practiced climbing and descending turns and intercepting NDB bearings. In the afternoon the instructor and I got in an airplane and applied what I had learned that morning.
Simulators also are invaluable for staying healthy while learning how to cope with emergencies. I'll never forget taking off in a twin turboprop and, at about 50 feet agl, experiencing a complete loss of power in the right engine. After verifying that the right engine was indeed the sick one, I feathered the prop, then reached up to the overhead panel to turn off the engine control switch, which shuts off fuel flow to the affected engine. I gave the rotary switch a quick counterclockwise twist through several detents, and immediately the left engine — the good engine, the engine that would get us back to the runway safely — began to spool down. I had turned the wrong switch, shutting off fuel to the left engine.
The resulting off-airport hard landing didn't require an investigation by the FAA or the NTSB because it all happened in a simulator. You can bet that on subsequent engine failures (it's indicative of a cruel streak running through the ranks of multiengine sim instructors), I gave those engine control switches just what they deserve — my undivided attention and utmost respect.
Too bad all pilots don't have access to simulators, especially for practicing emergency response. That leaves us with book learning — studying the emergency procedures section of the pilot operating handbook or airplane flight manual. Then we discuss those procedures with an instructor and practice them in the airplane as best we can. Who hasn't had an instructor pull the throttle back to idle to simulate a complete loss of power? It's dramatic on-the-job training.
In one respect, a sudden loss of power is an easy emergency with which to cope. It's impossible to ignore or misinterpret a loss of engine power. You hear it and feel it immediately, and powered by adrenaline, you react.
Other problems, in particular those involving the electrical system, are more insipid. There may be no sudden or easily recognizable indication that a problem has occurred. At most an overvoltage light on the panel may illuminate, or an ammeter or voltmeter may display unusual values. A thorough, consistent scan should pick up some indication of an electrical problem, but the fact is the scan is the first thing to suffer when there are distractions, however routine or minor.
If you miss the light or gauge indication, the first sign of electrical trouble involving a failure somewhere in the charging system may be a problem receiving or transmitting on the communications radio. Or the autopilot may disengage or begin to act strange.
Recently I was cruising at 8,500 feet east of the Crestview, Florida, VOR with the autopilot engaged so I could chat with my friend and passenger, Chester. The airplane began to slowly bank left, then right, and then the nose began to drop. Lights on the autopilot mode controller flashed randomly.
Autopilot problems are attention-getting because the autopilot has hands-on control of the aircraft. I disconnected it and began to troubleshoot. Scanning all the instruments and gauges, I noticed a small amber light on the combination ammeter/voltmeter that meant the charging system had failed and the battery was now in charge, so to speak. A small analog voltmeter on the subpanel confirmed the diagnosis.
Fortunately the weather was good VFR, and we were only a few minutes from our destination. I shut down nonessential avionics, gave thanks when the electrically actuated gear extended, and made an uneventful no-flap landing. Later I returned to pick up the airplane, which now sports overhauled generators that produce amperage with youthful enthusiasm.
The incident brought home several lessons. First, there is no substitute for understanding the aircraft electrical system, arcane though it may be. Apparently I hadn't detected that one generator had failed some time earlier. Second, troubleshooting problems in flight is tough, especially if the symptoms are confusing, as is the case with most electrical glitches. Add adverse weather and/or darkness to the scenario, and troubleshooting becomes a seriously difficult challenge.
Third and most important is reacting correctly to an in-flight problem of any kind and magnitude. What is correct? The first response should be to maintain or reestablish control of the airplane. It doesn't get any more basic than flying the airplane. Nothing is more important than keeping the wings level and the airspeed in check.
It may sound like stating the obvious, but until you've been through such an experience, either simulated or on the job, you'll never realize how easy it is to become distracted by a problem and forget about what matters most.