Unusual attitude: See for yourself

I was glad to try—but nothing I said was likely to make any difference. But showing him what actually happened when his airplane’s tires met the runway using an airplane-mounted video camera could let him solve the mystery himself.

I attached a Garmin VIRB to the bottom of the left wing and pointed it at the nosewheel. The VIRB’s wide-angle field of view showed all of the long-bodied airplane’s landing gear and their orientation to the runway centerline.

The pilot’s first approach was on speed and glideslope, but touchdown was flat on all three wheels and the airplane rocked forward and aft, hopping awkwardly as it decelerated. It was a classic, ugly setup to a possible prop strike—something that happens all too frequently (and needlessly) in these speedy airplanes.

We ended up making several more approaches and landings, and each one of them got better. The approaches were consistently good, and more back-pressure during the landing flare produced a slightly higher pitch attitude and several good landings in a row.

As soon as the flight was over we reviewed the VIRB video—and it was telling. The video did more to clarify the problem (and its solution) than any words of wisdom a flight instructor could have provided.

First, the pilot saw that his approaches were fine. No changes were necessary. Next, he was genuinely surprised, maybe even shocked, to see how flat his airplane was touching down. He sincerely believed that the nosewheel had been off the ground when the main wheels touched during that problematic first landing, and seeing indisputable video proof that all three wheels hit simultaneously was a revelation.

The video also showed that the nosewheel was properly off the ground during subsequent landings, but less so than he thought. He estimated before seeing the video that the nosewheel was at least one foot off the ground at touchdown when, in fact, it was only about six inches. That gave him the peace of mind to know that he could lift it even higher without risk of a tail strike.

That single 45-minute flight with a well-placed video camera did more to improve the new Mooney pilot’s landings than endless hours of discussing landing theory. He’d already heard plenty of opinions. Seeing the video allowed him to identify the real culprit and fix it. More back-pressure during the landing flare and a slightly higher nose-up attitude at touchdown was all it took. (He also simplified his landing procedure by avoiding last-minute elevator trim changes during the landing flare.)

Point-of-view cameras have a somewhat checkered history in flying. They’ve recorded all sorts of pilot foolishness during the relatively few years they’ve been available, and there’s reason to believe that much of this bad behavior would never have happened (or been shared on YouTube) if not for the cameras’ presence.

But these tiny video cameras can be fabulous teaching tools. They allow us to slow things down; review what really took place (in slow motion and high resolution); and see things from a clinical perspective far removed from the noise, distractions, and confusion of the cockpit.

It’s rare for a persistent technique problem to get recognized, addressed, and repaired in a single flight. But the VIRB video camera let a rookie Mooney pilot do just that.

He just had to see it for himself.