Inquisitive pilots want to know all of an airplane's secrets
The benefits of flying the same airplane every time you take to the air are almost too numerous to count. It's a luxury afforded those who own airplanes — a luxury sometimes taken for granted. Renter pilots, though, may face the problem of getting to know a different airplane on every flight. And no doubt about it, each airplane is different. Even those of the same year and model may be equipped very differently, and each has its own quirks, dents, dings, and don't dos.
George Beaumont of Stuart, Florida, figures he knew his Piper Saratoga about as well as anyone can know an airplane. He picked it up himself at the Vero Beach, Florida, factory in 1981. When he sold it 20 years later in August 2001, this cherry 'Toga had sat outside only two nights. Over those two decades, Beaumont and his wife, Vera, had flown the airplane some 5,000 hours. He sold the airplane three engines, two interiors, a paint job, and a million-plus miles later because of a minor incident that told him he was getting to the age when he might make a mistake. "I was at 400 feet on short final to Stuart when the tower controller called me to tell me that the gear was not down. I put the gear down, landed, and almost immediately put the airplane up for sale. I didn't want to be tempted to fly anymore."
Giving up flying is a tough call for any pilot — even one who is 78, as Beaumont is. But it's especially difficult for an old World War II fighter pilot. Beaumont learned to fly Stearmans at age 17 in the early 1940s. As a British citizen, he eventually ended up in the British Fleet Air Arm of the Royal Navy. He flew Spitfires over the English Channel, defending England from German attacks. He was shot down twice. During and after the war he flew Corsairs, Hellcats, and P-51 Mustangs.
"You get to know an airplane fast in those kinds of conditions," he says. "Your life depends on it." Listening is the key, he says. An airplane will tell you a lot just by the sound and feel of it. A vibration here or there isn't a bad thing. It may be normal for that airplane, but once you pick up the tune, you know it forever.
On trips throughout North America, the reliable Saratoga never forced him to put his emergency training to the test, but he stayed current by practicing often, another piece of advice for those wanting to feel comfortable in an airplane. "Practice makes perfect," Beaumont reminds, "and I practiced a lot even in that airplane I knew so well." On at least an annual basis Beaumont would find the toughest instructor he could to wring him out in the airplane, especially on emergency procedures, such as engine failure situations. "If you know exactly how far your airplane can glide and what field you can put it in at any time, you know your airplane," he says. "Know who the good instructors are. He will know in a few minutes of flying whether you can handle the airplane. If you can, too many of them just put you through a few maneuvers and then you're done. I want one who will give me a workout."
Renter pilots can get to know the airplanes on the line through a thorough checkout and regular proficiency flights and also by asking the instructors who fly them every day about their quirks. Who else can tell you more authoritatively about the "normal" nose gear shimmy on the green-and-white Cessna 172 or the sticky trim wheel on the Piper Archer? Dig deeper by asking to review the squawk sheet on the airplane you're about to launch in. If you see that the transponder has been squawked three times in the past month, you won't be surprised if ATC growls, "I'm not getting a Mode C on you. Remain clear of the Class Bravo."
Want to know all the mechanical maladies of an airplane? Wander out to the maintenance shop and ask the techs. They can tell you which airplanes are the hangar queens and which ones get a quick oil change every month and a slap on the rudder as they head out the door for another 100 hours of trouble-free service.
Finally, ask the pilot who just flew the airplane. If she hands you the "orange juice can" air vent from a Cessna, you won't be surprised when it pops out and lands in your lap right after takeoff.
Airplanes on the rental ramp aren't the only ones with their own nuances. Airline pilots face the same issues, says Peter A. Bedell, a captain for a regional airline and former technical editor of AOPA Pilot. "I try to get out on the ramp early so I can quiz the pilots turning the airplane over to us on what's wrong," he says. They are usually minor items: an anemic environmental system, a radio that won't autotune, a weak brake or maybe one that pulls to the left on takeoff. "If you know about it, there are no surprises to troubleshoot later," he says — especially in the busy terminal area where you need to be concentrating on flying the airplane.
Flying a different airplane every day or two was a new experience for Bedell when he started at the airline. His family for decades has owned a Cessna 172M and a Beechcraft D55 Baron. He and his brothers fly the airplanes often, especially the Baron, and they assist with most of the maintenance — both to save money and to learn more about the airplanes.
Bedell can tell you down to the knot what speed the airplane should be cruising at for a given weight. If it's off even a little, something is wrong. "If the speed in the Baron is down about two knots, then probably one of the cowl flaps didn't close completely," he says. With both cowl flaps open, the speed is down by five knots. "If you climb at 165 mph, 50 feet before leveling off you can flip the cowl flaps closed and the airplane will level itself off."
Bedell regularly flies out of a short grass strip on Maryland's Eastern Shore. "We know where each airplane will get off the ground on a short-field takeoff. If it's not off by then, there's a problem."
Bedell studies accident reports for the airplanes he flies. "For the Baron, you see that a lot of guys get themselves in trouble with fuel mismanagement in the earlier models, V MC-spin crashes, and generally poor single-engine control. Reading the AOPA Air Safety Foundation's type-specific safety reviews would help people get up to speed on the airplane they fly."
John Yodice, AOPA's general counsel and a contributor to this magazine, is an accomplished pilot and longtime owner of a Cessna 310R. He bought the airplane new in 1981, the last year Cessna built the 310. With more than 20 years of experience in the same airplane, he's learned a lot about the nuances of operating it. It starts with the preflight.
Yodice entered the items from Cessna's preflight checklist into his computer and used that to create his own real-world checklist. Some of the original items on the checklist are not worth looking at, he says. They simply aren't problem areas. He has learned that there are certain landing gear components that deserve a close look before each flight — they've been added to his homemade checklist.
The book says that nine quarts is the absolute minimum amount of oil you should have in the engines. "If you put the recommended 11 or 12 quarts in, they're just going to blow at least a quart out the breather anyhow, so I don't fill them that full."
Yodice knows exactly where to position the elevator trim tab for each takeoff, depending on loading. "If I'm by myself or with just one passenger, I know to set the trim tab to the aft end of the range. If I do, the airplane will lift off and climb at blue line." Ditto with weight-and-balance situations. Once you've calculated the weight and balance for all conceivable loading scenarios, you know whether it's within the envelope and what to expect.
You can get to know the airplane you fly by flying often, but it doesn't stop there. When you fly, do it in an inquisitive and thoughtful manner. What power setting brought the cruise speed you experienced and what was the fuel burn? How does the airplane feel and sound during taxi, takeoff, cruise, and landing? How can you learn everything there is to know about this piece of machinery that you're about to commit your life to? Once you can answer these questions, you'll know your airplane and know what it's like to truly feel comfortable in flight.
E-mail the author at [email protected].
Putting It Into Practice
Getting a feel for it
Having never been an aircraft owner, I fought the condition common to renter pilots as I worked my way upward through the ratings: Going from one aircraft to another, you rarely get a chance to develop a one-on-one relationship. Sure, knowing a particular model's systems and nuances is important to passing checkrides, but renters don't go out to the tiedowns early every Sunday morning to visit their aircraft, and few have the opportunity to take a rental on enough long trips to develop a sense of timing and tune with the engine and airframe.
Then I became a flight instructor and den mother to a trio of Cessna 152s. Sure, I handed the controls over to one student after another. But the time spent, seat in seat, with 6211H, 6386L, and 25197 accumulated to the point where I could tell when 11H was losing performance that belied its clean exterior, and that the new engine hung in 197 made the previous ugly duckling of the fleet its new champion. Though the hours are melding together in my memory, it seemed one of them — was it 86L? — always dipped right after the power-on stall break, no matter how coordinated you held the ball.
And trust me, you can tell whether you know an airplane after a student sends it over on its back for the first time in an (unexpectedly) cross-controlled stall.
The older Cessna 172 never fit me as well — how can a copilot's seat be so much less adjustable than the pilot's? And the Piper Warrior was just a little stuffier, a little stodgier — frankly, a little less fun. And the other aircraft in the fleet never saw the same action.
Even though I'm several years past those days as a new flight instructor, I feel a sense of coming home when I get a chance to fly a 152. No other airplane can I strap on and move through the sky like that simple two-seater. Spot landing? Where on the stripe do you want it?
The contrast sharpens when I think of an airplane I fly regularly, a Beechcraft A36 Bonanza. I have 85 hours in the model now, and I have to admit the old boy is still a mystery to me.
I have the luxury of access to expert instruction all around me. As AOPA Pilot Editor in Chief Tom Haines suggests, I've tried increasing my knowledge of the Bo by flying with those whose experience far outweighs mine in Beechcraft — including Haines himself. No, I'm not trying to score brownie points with the boss; I have simply learned to take advantage of those hours he's spent in the American Bonanza Society's tutelage until I can get to specialty training like the Bonanza/Baron Pilot Proficiency Program myself.
They've written books on Bos, and I admit I tried to read the one handed to me by another instructor-member of the editorial staff. But honestly, the book couldn't capture my interest like the insides of my eyelids after a long day — or like hours in the airplane.
So I've taken the Bo on trips — not just business trips and proficiency checks, but local flights, any mundane errand. Because, as Beaumont, Bedell, and Yodice all note, you get to know an airplane by flying it often, and with a lot of critical thinking.
Sitting behind the big engine and big instrument panel in the left seat, I search for clues to let me know what's going on behind those layers of metal. My tools for exploration? I'm really glad to have an engine monitor. Was that a normal vibration? The display helps me place those random feelings of unease in proper perspective — and learn the sweet spots of the engine, keeping the cylinder head temps below 380 degrees in an attempt to prolong the big beast's oft-fragile heart.
I'm also becoming quite attached to the autopilot, a capable Bendix/King KFC 200. It makes single-pilot IFR possible — even enjoyable — though frankly my minimums in this airplane remain pretty high.
And then there's the electric trim, my personal hero. Without it, I can land the Bo, but the effort required makes my sweaty palms slip on the old plastic yoke. With two people in the front seats and full fuel, the airplane is close to the forward CG limit, and nowhere is this felt more painfully than in the landing flare. Dial in 9 degrees of nose-up trim on final, roll the trim up through the flare, and — ahhhh! A smooth landing every time. (Of course, I'm prepared for a big push in the event of a go-around and know all the ways to disengage the electric trim.)
The light, friendly 152 was my training buddy and one of the few airplanes I can move unaided. I need a tug, a wing walker, and a priest to hangar the Bo — but as I log more hours, its envelope unfolds for me. I can fly farther and faster sitting in its left seat. I soloed the Bo not too long ago, and we shook hands in friendship for the first time. I look forward to getting to know the old boy well. — Julie K. Boatman
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