Training with an engine actually feathered, now long mandated, gives an opportunity to explore the "zero thrust" power setting and how close it is to reality over the speed range of interest. The same training session offers an opportunity to explore the effect of delayed feathering; a near certainty when an engine quits for real. I had occasion to see the shocked disbelief on the face of a very proficient pilot, thoroughly familiar with the airplane, when an engine failed during gear retraction on a training flight. He knew I hadn't pulled an engine at that altitude, but it took a couple of long seconds before he got back to doing pilot stuff, all of which he did correctly.
That shock delay is probably inevitable and ought to be factored into training. But more important might be the lesson that there is time to think and act deliberately. There is no imperative to do something in haste right this very split second (and a strong imperative not to do the wrong thing). This is the best of all occasions to rein in any misdirected sense of urgency and revert to training.
It's hard to state generalities when airplanes vary so much in engine-out performance, the criticality of VYSE/VMC, and the difficulty in cleaning them up. But one certainty is that it is safer to crash slowly on the ground at the far end of a runway than to crash fast and possibly inverted anywhere. In an ambiguous situation it might be far better to chop power, stay or get on the ground, and make a max-effort stop (possibly with the aid of the airport fence) than to risk a far more serious accident by continuing a takeoff that might be impossible. Crash energy is the square of groundspeed, and the gear takes impact much better than the nose. Most pilots would be surprised at how short a distance a light twin can be stopped in if the engines are silent and the tires expendable.
The author mentions some light twins that have a hydraulic pump on only one engine and the implications of failure of that engine. One guy I heard of had the practice of extending the manual hydraulic pump handle before takeoff and briefing his passenger, "If I yell pump, work this thing rapidly up and down 'til I yell stop." I don't believe he ever had occasion to yell "pump," but it was an example of creative crew resource management!
David Shaw
Penn Yan, New York
The pictures in "Short Field, Soft Field--Off Field?" (June 2006 AOPA Flight Training) sure remind me of Wax Orchard, a private field on Vashon Island, Washington. I made several landings and takeoffs in a Piper J-3 Cub there in the course of my tailwheel training out of Vashon Municipal (2S1).
Mike White
Kennewick, Washington
Editor's note: You have a sharp eye. Senior Photographer Mike Fizer flew with Jeremy Wilson of Galvin Flying Services Inc. to Wax Orchard to conduct the photo shoot.--Ed.
I enjoyed Barry Orland's "Learning Experiences: Flight Not Taken" article in the June issue of AOPA Flight Training. I have had similar experiences, but not on that scale. However, I disagree with not relating the information to the director of the FBO. Habits, good and bad, are learned. At this stage in the student's training experience he should be told by someone that there is a problem with the condition of the aircraft as he exits it. Apparently the CFI has issues that need to be dealt with also. Are his students allowed sloppy preflight, run-ups, and maneuvers? How accurate and safe will this or his other students become after obtaining their certificates? How many other students/renters/prospects have gone elsewhere due to negligence and sloppiness on the part of one or two people? The FBO owners and operators generally have large sums of money tied up in their facility and depend on repeat business.
I am a dentist. The only way I ever find out about a problem is if the individual calls or approaches me. Bad news does not readily filter uphill.
Dr. Richard M. Holmes
Indian Trail, North Carolina