Too many questions

Initial reports of the crash of a Cessna 421C air ambulance on departure from Las Cruces, New Mexico, strongly suggested misfueling—although it took nearly three years for the board to formally attribute the accident to an inexperienced lineman having serviced the piston twin with 40 gallons of Jet A while the pilot looked on. Others, like the 2009 crash of a Pilatus PC–12 on approach to Butte, Montana, leave the lay reader to wonder whether the cause can ever be determined. (It was. See “Frozen Fuel,” November 2016 AOPA Pilot Turbine Edition.)

The preliminary report on the fatal landing overrun of a Falcon 50 in Greenville, South Carolina, on September 27, 2018, is of a third type: one that raises more questions than it answers. The puzzles start with the accident sequence itself, which began about 1:45 p.m. local time with the airplane’s arrival at the end of an IFR flight from Florida’s St. Pete-Clearwater International Airport. On board were two pilots and two passengers. Conditions were dry, with 10 miles visibility under a broken ceiling.

Air traffic controllers reported that the trijet landed “normally” in the usual touchdown zone of the 5,373-foot runway. The sole thrust reverser (on the center engine) and spoilers deployed, but the airplane didn’t decelerate appreciably. Instead it continued down the runway, veering off the left side just before the departure end and off a 50-foot embankment onto the airport perimeter road. The impact collapsed the landing gear and snapped the fuselage in two just behind the cockpit. Both pilots were killed. The passengers survived with serious injuries. The engines continued to run after first responders arrived, two of them for “at least” 20 minutes and one for about 40. The fire handles for the center and right engines had been pulled.

The preliminary report on the overrun of a Falcon 50 in Greenville, South Carolina, raises more questions than it answers.The preliminary report offers little insight into why the crew was unable to stop the airplane. The brake anti-skid switch had been placarded inoperative, but even without it, braking action should have been sufficient to slow the airplane perceptibly. Investigators found the flaps and slats deployed and the parking brake off. Examination of braking system components, engines, and control systems—and analysis of the cockpit voice recorder—presumably are still in progress.

Other questions center on the operator and crew. Investigators quickly determined that the pilot flying left seat, a 49-year-old, 11,650-hour airline transport pilot, was type-rated in Learjets and Westwinds but held only a second-in-command rating for the Falcon 50. The 66-year-old in the right seat, identified in press reports as the owner of the company operating the airplane, was a 5,500-hour private pilot with multiengine qualifications but no instrument rating. The Falcon 50’s type certificate requires a minimum crew of two (one of whom, needless to say, must be qualified to act as PIC and both of whom should be at least SIC type-rated).

The flight itself was operated under Part 91 and described by the NTSB as “personal,” though in post-accident interviews the survivors didn’t mention any friendship or even acquaintance with either pilot. The NTSB listed the operator as holding a Part 135 certificate, but neither the company nor the aircraft appears in the FAA’s most recent listing of certificate holders (perhaps, to be fair, as a result of the accident itself). Friends of the right-seater referred to his running a “charter company.”

The passengers may well have been unfamiliar with the regulatory requirements for offering common carriage. The two men in the cockpit, however, either knew the flight was illegal or had every reason—and an inescapable responsibility—to have known.

Details of the accident are likely to remain murky until the NTSB’s investigative team is able to catch up on its backlog and complete its factual report. The first responders’ descriptions of the engines “operating at full power” might perhaps be discounted on the assumption that they’d spent relatively little time around jet engines running at any power setting.

Caustic characterizations of the airplane’s operator that began appearing shortly after the accident should likewise be viewed skeptically until the factual record is complete. In the meantime, popular attention may focus on the various ways in which this particular flight might have circumvented the regulations intended to keep the flying public safe. Within the aviation community, greater interest is likely to center on why this airplane didn’t stop on the runway. Too much speed is likely, but history shows that all accidents are the products of a chain of events.