Consistent with the above, it would be well to remember that flying with passengers, necessarily, is about the only thing flight training doesn't prepare you for realistically. If anything the reverse is true; in training a student pilot gets used to flying with the other pilot seat occupied by a flight instructor, and sometimes students must be weaned off the dependency that this dynamic creates. How real passengers can behave, the questions they ask, their ability to distract even when they think they are behaving themselves (have you ever been tapped on the shoulder just as you are flaring for landing, despite your sterile-cockpit briefing of a few minutes before?) -- all this a new pilot has yet to experience. Flying with children is a joy and a reminder of a pilot's duty to be worthy of the trust placed in him or her. Flying with all the seats filled will demonstrate your aircraft's performance at the bottom of its capabilities -- be ready for that! Flying thus loaded with persons and baggage, on a cross-country in weather that fails to meet expectations, will challenge your training, skills, and perhaps your nerves. Show any signs of concern and the expression on your face will be scrutinized by all aboard as if it were the front-page headline of a tabloid newspaper.
After the private pilot practical test it is rare for the right seat or rear seats of a small aircraft to remain empty for long. But now those seats are occupied by people who know little or nothing about flying -- and they are situated close to flight controls, instruments, and switches. More than one passenger has reasoned that if your controls are functioning, his must somehow have been switched off, and they would make a good place to rest one's hands. Those pedals on the floor make a tempting footrest, too. Sometimes passengers have a tendency to simply fiddle with things. Hmmm. That big red knob projecting from the panel looks interesting.... Any conscientious pilot must go beyond required briefings and give pax some awareness of their surroundings, look after their safety in a responsible way, and make sure they know what not to touch, when not to talk, and how to react if certain minor things go wrong -- such as a door coming ajar or a stall horn blowing in gusty conditions.
Most of the time in accident reports, the focus is on pilots -- what they did or didn't do. We give stats, bewail repeating omissions such as running out of fuel and flying into bad weather, and we attempt to learn from the occurrences. Rarely do we lavish a lot of attention on passengers, but we should, in the interest of that effort to learn. Sometimes pax have a causal role in accidents, but this could represent a lapse by pilots who didn't brief them, or who didn't look after them or anticipate their potential discomforts.
On August 6, 1993, a Mooney M20J ground looped during takeoff at King City, California. The NTSB accident summary noted, "According to the pilot, the ground loop was induced when the right-seat passenger accidentally pressed on the left rudder pedal as the aircraft neared liftoff airspeed during the takeoff. The pilot reported that the aircraft yawed 45 degrees to the left when the passenger stepped on the left rudder pedal, and he could not regain control of the aircraft prior to the ground loop." The probable cause of the accident was stated as being "the pilot's loss of directional control during the takeoff ground roll due to the inadvertent interference with the controls by a passenger." You might not specifically mention rudder pedals during a routine passenger briefing. But now you will.
Sometimes passengers are injured in accidents in a way that might be traced back to a pilot's rules for occupying his or her aircraft. That's when passages such as this one appear in reports of aircraft accidents: "[Mr. Stone, the passenger] was not wearing the installed shoulder harness and suffered a badly broken jaw and a lacerated thumb...He stated that the engine ran fine as far as he could tell and while looking out the window sightseeing he heard an '[explicative]' followed almost immediately by impact with the trees...." This was a case in which the aircraft was engaged in the time-honored practice of overflying a campsite and looking for, as the NTSB put it, "specific campers" on the ground. So it may not be truly surprising that no one said to the passenger, "I say, old boy, now might be a good time to cinch up that shoulder restraint."
It is quite true that under the federal aviation regulations Mr. Stone was not required to be wearing his shoulder harness at that moment, since the aircraft was neither taking off, landing (intentionally, anyway), nor moving on the surface. But why not insist on keeping it fastened at all times? If any of your passengers know the regulations in sufficient detail to quarrel with that request, tell them about Mr. Stone, following your dissertation on rudder pedals.
Never allow a passenger to talk you into doing something against the rules, or against your better judgment. You spent a lot of time and money learning how to fly, and how to do it right. You know that the regulations prescribe certain minimum safe altitudes -- and regardless of what you're flying over, if you hit trees, you're far too low.
Sometimes just the number of pax on board becomes part of the cause of an accident -- for example, the common case of an overloaded aircraft in high density altitude conditions common during summer -- and this too is a pilot lapse of a fundamental nature. Ask their weight or take a conservative guess, if the former is too indelicate for your tastes. Handle baggage yourself to secure it and to know its heft, but don't ignore the issue. Find a diplomatic way to arrange for an acceptable center of gravity position, which may mean depriving one person of a prized front seat. Explain about weight and balance. Then slip in a word about Mr. Stone and the rudders.
Although passengers aren't pilots, their account and recollections are valued by investigators and are often included in accident reports -- sometimes casting doubt on the claims made by the pilot involved. At other times they corroborate pilot accounts of mishaps that might have been skeptically received.
When a Cessna 182 landed hard at Oshkosh, Wisconsin, in August 1997, the National Transportation Safety Board included this passage in its accident summary: "The pilot and both passengers noted that while established on final another high-wing airplane overflew their flight path in an attempt to land on the same runway. The other airplane did execute a go-around; however the pilot thought that due to turbulence from the other airplane, he lost control of his airplane and it experienced a hard landing." This became the report's probable cause of the accident.
The decisions you make when commanding a passenger-carrying flight could set the scene for how successfully that flight transpires. This includes your preparation, and your assumptions about the flying you plan to do. On August 3, 1997, a Beech F33 with pilot and three passengers on board was about to cross the Continental Divide -- but the pilot had placed himself (and the pax) in a dangerous situation. "He departed Grand Junction and flew east until he was just south of Gunnison, Colorado, then he turned onto a more southerly course. He said he was using a WAC chart (World Aeronautical Chart, at a scale of 1:1,000,000) instead of a sectional chart (1:500,000) for navigation, and he thought he was at a safe altitude for the surrounding terrain. As he approached a saddle in a mountain ridge near the Continental Divide (which he thought was 11,500 feet msl), he realized he was well below the summit. Surrounding terrain prevented him from turning around, so he applied full power in an attempt to climb above the summit. The airplane struck a rock ledge, skidded, and came to rest inverted against an embankment at the 12,200-foot level," reported the NTSB. Campers who saw the event came to the rescue and took care of the injured persons until rescuers arrived. Probably they are still talking about that memorable camping trip.
Nothing creates a new supporter of general aviation as well as a good ride given by a competent, safety-conscious pilot who clearly loves what he does. By contrast, all of us should cringe at pilot misdeeds that place innocent people at risk and tarnish the aura of professionalism most aviators strive for. At times, being a pro means pilots must protect passengers from themselves. A firm "no" must be given to requests that you hurry a mission at the expense of preflight attention or weather updates. Passengers forget or misunderstand instructions not to bother you during critical periods of a flight -- but you must wave them off. Apologize later; you'd be amazed at how many pilots will turn around and engage in cheery chat with the back-seaters during a takeoff climb, or will lavish more attention on calming a pouty child than on complying with an altitude or heading assignment. Flight instructors see this often when flying with a pilot and his or her family. After seeing a pilot do it, the CFI never stops worrying about it.
Have fun flying with passengers. It's what you wanted to do. But be wary of the distractions and stresses they may impose. To seek out this subject matter in its natural habitat, get your commercial pilot certificate and fly sightseeing flights around a national park for a summer, when your pax will be total strangers out for a thrill. Or become a charter pilot, and fly passengers on those zesty days when joyrides would be out of the question. Even if you never do that, it won't be long before you have some advice to offer any new pilot who mentions that he'll soon be giving his first rides as a certificated pilot. Enjoy the ride, but stay focused, and never slack off just because you're having fun. And be ready for anything.
Dan Namowitz is an aviation writer and flight instructor. A pilot since 1985 and an instructor since 1990, he resides in Maine.