Continuing Ed

When it happens, you'll be ready

We watched a homebuilt taildragger with military markings taxi out and maneuver onto the runway for takeoff. The wind was from the northwest, but the active was Runway 4, the primary runway at the airport. Other than a few bounces on some of the landings we had witnessed, the wind didn't seem to be giving pilots much of a problem.

The pilot of the taildragger lined up on the centerline and shoved the throttle forward. As it gained speed the tail rose a few inches off the asphalt runway. A moment later I saw dust and dirt being kicked up. "He's gone off the left side of the runway," I said to my friends. We were on the opposite side of the runway a few hundred yards away, but we could see the taildragger bouncing along on what must have been some rough ground. The tail was still up, however, and it looked as if the pilot was trying to continue the takeoff.

Suddenly, the airplane pitched straight up on its nose and bounced high in the air. For an instant it looked as if it would flip over, but it tottered briefly, then fell back upright and shuddered to a stop.

We held our breath. In a moment the canopy opened, and someone climbed out of the passenger seat. A moment later the pilot got out and walked around the airplane. We breathed out--they were OK. A half-hour later the airplane was towed over to the ramp. The left main gear was bent backward. The airplane had hit a ditch.

The pilot made three mistakes. First, he could have used a runway aligned into the wind. Mistake number two began when the tail came up and the left-to-right crosswind blowing on the vertical fin caused the airplane to weathervane to the left. The combination of the crosswind and P-factor from the prop, which causes a left-turning tendency, proved to be too much. The pilot apparently failed to correct the yaw with right rudder, and the airplane skittered off the left side of the runway.

Mistake number three was not aborting the takeoff when things started to go bad. The pilot elected to try and rescue it, but it may have been beyond saving the moment he lost directional control. The result of his decision to continue is that, instead of suffering the ribbing of fellow pilots for botching the takeoff and having to taxi back for a second try, the pilot now has a severely busted airplane--and ego--to repair.

As pilots, we make countless split-second decisions during a flight. Many are made consciously; most are not. Decision making is a constant process when we fly, but very few of those decisions really need to be made instantaneously. There's almost always time to consider the circumstances, evaluate the options, and chose the best one. The exception is an emergency that, because of circumstances--an engine failure on takeoff, for example--does not allow the luxury of deliberating before reacting. And, generally speaking, we are ill-prepared for that kind of emergency.

The more we fly, the more comfortable we get with normalcy. Things happen just as we anticipate and expect them to. Airplanes and engines are so reliable that we naturally come to assume that everything will work as expected.

As we lapse into complacency about reliability, we're setting ourselves up for a nasty surprise. The less we anticipate problems, the less prepared we are to deal with one when it does arise. I'm sure the pilot of that taildragger did not expect to veer off the runway. When he did he was surprised, possibly to the point of being momentarily frozen with fear. The moment the airplane left the runway, the pilot and his passenger may have been along for the ride.

The cure for complacency, for failing to react quickly and effectively to an emergency situation, is to always expect that an emergency will occur. It probably won't, but if it does you'll be ready for it.

When a pilot trains for a turbojet type rating, the education dwells on emergency procedures. Checklists, briefings, simulator sessions, and debriefings all revolve around anticipating and reacting properly to emergency situations. Checklists contain a number of memory items--procedures that the crew is expected to perform from memory when an emergency occurs that demands immediate action: an engine failure or fire on takeoff or approach; sudden decompression of the cabin; smoke in the cockpit; and an overheating battery or batteries are some of those immediate-response-required emergencies.

It's not just the training, however. On every flight, the pretakeoff briefing includes a discussion between the crew of how they will respond to an emergency that occurs during the takeoff run.

The irony is that turbojets are highly reliable. Serious problems such as an engine failure on takeoff are rare to the point of being statistically insignificant, yet pilots are thoroughly and regularly trained to deal with such emergencies. Piston engines are not as reliable, but because there are few simulators devoted to piston training, the typical training curriculum has nowhere near the focus on emergency procedures as does turbojet training. The emergency training we do receive must be done in the airplane.

One technique that some instructors and training organizations use, especially for multiengine training, is to consciously anticipate a problem on takeoff. There's even a crew briefing--the pilot says, either silently or aloud, how they will react to an abnormality that occurs on the takeoff roll. I recall attending a multiengine refresher class at which the instructor urged us to expect an engine failure on takeoff. Assume that it will happen, that an engine will fail. "If you do that," he said, "you won't be surprised if and when it actually occurs. You'll be mentally prepared to deal with it."

That's good advice for any pilot flying any type of airplane. Before taking the runway, say to yourself that a problem will occur on the takeoff roll--a tire will blow, the wind will push the airplane off to one side, a bee will sting me on the nose, the door will pop open, the engine will fail. When it does, I will react by pulling the throttle to idle, applying the brakes as appropriate, and maintaining directional control as I bring the airplane to a stop on the runway. If I have a loss of power immediately after takeoff I will lower the nose to maintain airspeed above stall, and look for a suitable place to put it down. If there is any time I will switch fuel tanks, but maintaining control takes precedence over troubleshooting.

Just as you have a good idea of what you will do when things go as expected, have a clear idea of how you will respond if the original plan doesn't go as planned. As my mother used to say, "Expect the worst and you can only be pleasantly surprised."

Mark Twombly is a writer and editor who has been flying since 1968. He is a commercial pilot with instrument and multiengine ratings and flies a Piper Aztec.